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Writing is in my soul. And it always has been. It's something I have to do. Any writer will tell you that we are not given a choice. The words come at us, sometimes like a raging wind storm blowing in off the prairie, sometimes like a gentle rain falling in a meadow. Ignoring them is futile because stories and story ideas are relentless. They've been popping into my head since I was little. Not a day goes by that I don't think about a new story that needs to be written down. I've had a cookbook, a children's book, and two novels published, in addition to being a contributor to 12 Chicken Soup for the Soul books. I've also had more articles published than I can recall. My new novel will be published in August of 2024. Stay tuned here to find out more about it as the publication date draws near.

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Wednesday, March 13, 2024









 Spring has Sprung in Texas


In many parts of the country, snow is either still on the ground or still falling. But not here in central Texas. We saw several days with temps in the 80s last month, and now in March, we're relishing 70 degrees, my favorite time of year. Flowers have begun to bloom, especially our beloved state wildflower, the bluebonnet, and daffodils, tulips, and roses, to name just a few. And the redbud and fruit trees are showing off their flowery blooms as they prepare for the next cycle. It's so pretty outdoors it's enough to make a person cry. See what I mean? Don't these photos make your eyes water, just a bit? 

  

I assure you that I am not the only person in Texas who gets excited over bluebonnets and wildflowers. If there's a significant field of bluebonnets, rest assured that there will be cars and trucks parked bumper to bumper along the roadside, with families spilling into the field for moms and dads to take photos of their kiddos sprawling in the flowers. It's kinda a rite of passage in Texas; everybody does it. But of course, that doesn't make it right. "What?" you say? Yeah. If you walk among the bluebonnets trampling them before they go to seed, they won't sprout up next year. And that would be a real shame. Instead of walking in a bluebonnet field take those pretty photos of the kiddos standing in front of the field, not in it. You'll achieve the same effect, and you'll preserve the bluebonnets for a return performance next year. 

And then there is the not-so-obvious, possibly dangerous reason not to walk in a knee-high bluebonnet field. Snakes. Yep, snakes. They are known to hide in the foliage. If it's high and thick, you might accidentally step on one, and that would definitely spoil your outing. Take a look around. Can't see the ground? Then err on the side of caution. There could be a snake, poisonous or otherwise, lurking in the field. Probably not a chance you want to take with your kids. Bear in mind that snakes, especially rattlesnakes are not looking to tangle with you, rather they're looking for their next meal: rodents that are attracted to the fragrant scent of bluebonnets, and snakes know that. It's one big buffet out there for the copperheads and rattlers. 




Of course with all this flowery splendor, the temps and humidity will rise and the skeeters will soon be along en mass. I used that term a few days ago with a friend who doesn't live in Texas. She asked what a skeeter is. I immediately thought --"lucky you!" It's this guy, the bad boy bloodsucker of the insect world:



I've already seen a few on the back porch and fortunately, they're ignoring me, for now, which is a good thing. With complete confidence, I can tell you that if there's a skeeter within 50 miles of my house, it will find me. And all his friends and family will find me too. And they will bite me mercilessly. I will swell up like a circus balloon in minutes. It won't be long before I can't sit on my porch without getting bitten, which means it's time to set up my mosquito deterrent device. I bought it a couple of years ago and I must say it does a marvelous job at keeping the skeeters off the porch. If I leave the porch I have to douse myself with a mosquito deterrent spray, which I detest, but subject myself to because it sure beats getting bitten. 

Until the skeeters take up residence on my porch, for now, I'm good. I can sit there drinking a cup of tea or a glass of wine in the evening, and watch the light wane until day turns to night. Right about then my dog will likely remind me that it's time for supper, and he will keep reminding me until he convinces me that feeding him would be easier and quieter than listening to him barking and barking and barking to get my attention. And he's right about that. 

Till next time....