In August 2027, abstract artist Karin Dahl and I will exhibit at the Columbus Cultural Arts Center. Karin Dahl is represented by Hammond Harkins Gallery (Columbus) and Ball Hill Gallery (Newark). The galleries that represent her tell you how talented she is. Karin and I met when we both became members of the distinguished National League of American Pen Women. I attended one of her exhibits at the McConnell Center in Worthington. What I saw in her paintings was different than what she intended. She works with colors and wanted to show the collaboration of music and color. I saw the auras of characters. I asked if she’d mind if I developed characters from her paintings. She said yes.

This is the short story that I wrote from the character Captain Macmillan Darcy that stepped out of the painting Karin named “Gold.”

Mac always stops when Penny, his granddaughter, comes close to watch. Her small fingers hold the ruler while he marks the wood. “Measure twice, cut once,” she says.

“Where did you hear such wisdom?”

“From you, Grandpa,” she giggles.

“Are you going to help me paint these for your mom when I’m done building these?”

“Can I? I’d love to!”

I’ll saw these pieces now; you might want to see what Grandma is up to.

Penny nods and runs into the house. At nine, she’s got her father’s long legs.

After working a few hours on a set of nightstands for Penny’s mother, Mac sits down in an easy chair he keeps in the garage. Now at 64, he remembers teaching woodworking to his son. He loved looking down on his son as he sanded something, or held the ruler while Mac marked a piece of wood. Patrick’s brown eyes and smile looked up at him when he complimented him. Mac sighed. Denise, his wife, would say he wants to be just like his dad. He settled into his chair and nodded off.

Feeling as if he were moving, he opened his eyes to see he was in the right rear seat of a hook and ladder. He moved around to see what was happening, confused. He was accustomed to sitting in A Seat-the Truck captain’s seat. Someone else sat in the seat in front of him. To his left, a young man looked out the window at the cars parked along the road. The siren shrieked, and the horn blared. He tilted to the right as the truck took a turn at a major intersection. Spotting the Hallogan bar, he leaned forward, put his hands on his knees to be ready to grab it as soon as the rig stopped.

The horn blew four fast blasts as it entered another intersection. A semi was coming perpendicular to the engine. Again, the horn blasted. The hook and ladder was stopped by traffic clogged by the fire ahead. The semi entered the intersection and kept coming. Mac instinctively leaned to the left, away from the advancing semi. “What’s wrong with that guy? Why doesn’t he stop?”

The semi-cab grew larger until Mac saw the driver’s eyes large and his hand waving the hook and ladder to move. The driver’s mouth was wide as he yelled something. Mac raised his arms to fend off the semi-cab as it crashed into his door. Glass shattered. He heard cursing and a scream. The fire truck tilted and skidded as the semi pushed it. Mac tasted blood.

Mac startled awake. His lip ached. Reaching up to touch his mouth, blood. He leaned forward in his chair and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he leaned forward for a moment and remembered his dream.

He walked into the house and to the kitchen. Opening the freezer, he grabbed some ice and dabbed his lip. He wrapped the ice in a dish towel folded on the counter and stepped over to the sink. Looking out the window, he watched Penny play with her dolls in the treehouse he and his son had built when his son was about her age.

He heard Denise walk into the kitchen. “She loves that house. Maybe you could put a fresh coat of paint on it. Maybe make it more hers.”

Mac turned to her.
”What did you do to your lip? Let me see.”

She took the dish towel, walked to the refrigerator, and added more ice. Looking up at him, she returned to put the towel back on his lip. She admired his full head of white-and-gray hair and his piercing blue eyes. He grimaced as he tried to smile at her. Lifting his hand to hold the towel and ice in place, he said, “I bit my lip when I was dreaming.”

“About?”

“The hook and ladder crash.”

She nodded.

“Maybe after the trial, that dream will go away.”

“It’s been two years.”

“But every time the news reports about the accident, you have that dream.”

“The trial is about to start.”

“Looks like your lip stopped bleeding. It’s swollen a little.”

He nods, and she takes the wet towel and what’s left of the ice.

Penny waves as she sees her grandfather walking toward the treehouse.

“Hey, Penny, come down a minute,” he said as he looked up at her.

“Should I bring my dolls?”

“We’ll decide in a minute.”

The treehouse was built on a sturdy three-stump tree. It was a faded blue color now. It was Patrick’s favorite color. The house was tall enough for Penny to stand in it. After raccoons made a home in it one spring, they added glass to the two windows. They could be opened to let in a cool breeze. Penny was climbing down through the door in the house’s floor.

She ran to Mac. “What’s up, Grandpa?”

He looked up at the house with his arms folded. “Your grandma thinks your house needs to be spruced up a bit.”

“What does spruced up mean?”

“Repainted. Maybe you need shutters?”

“Can we paint the inside too?”

“Hm,” Mac was thinking about whether he could get up into the door of the house and if he could actually paint the inside. “We might have to get your Grandma to help there.”

Mac was agile, even at 64, but at 6’ 2”, he didn’t know if he was still agile enough for that.

“Could we have a sign on it?”

“Like what? No boys allowed?”

Penny thought about that. “No, that wouldn’t work. You couldn’t come in then.”

Mac raised his eyebrows, impressed that he would be invited. “Why don’t we make a list of things we need? Come on.”

Holding hands, they walked back toward the kitchen. “Grandma, we’re going to fix up the treehouse! We might need your help.”

Denise was putting clean dishes away when Mac and Penny walked in. “Really. What do you need my help for?”

“Grandpa doesn’t think he can get up and paint the inside, so he thinks you might have to help. Huh, Grandpa.”

Denise mouthed thank you to Mac. Mac shrugged.

Sitting down at the table, Mac took the pencil and pad Denise handed him. “Okay, Penny, what color would you like your house painted?”

Penny pulled out a chair and sat down. She said, “My favorite color is green, but I don’t think that would look good on the house. Maybe the inside could be green.” She paused as if she were trying to visualize her house. “How about white with fire-engine red shutters?”

Denise looked at Mac. His face had paled under his tan.

“My, that would be nice, Penny,” Denise said. “What about those murals that look like somewhere pretty for the inside and the other walls just white?”

“Could we have a sign saying ‘Penny’s Firehouse’?”

Denise saw the stricken look on Mac’s face. “Why don’t you two go off to the hardware store? I’ll get online and find some wallpaper murals. I’ll have a few for you to choose from when you get back, Penny.”

“Come on, Grandpa! We don’t have much time. School’s going to start soon, you know.”

Penny ran out the kitchen door to Mac’s truck. Mac grabbed his keys from the key ring as he shook his head. Denise stopped him. “Mac, just because she wants those things doesn’t mean she wants to be a firefighter.”

“That’s how Patrick started.”

“We’ll talk later. Your granddaughter is waiting.”

With Mac walking and Penny skipping, they made it through the hardware store parking lot. As they picked out paint samples, Mac tried to persuade Penny to go with a darker shade of red for the shutters.

“Nope, it’s gotta be bright red.” Penny shook her head, and her mouth was set.

While the clerk in the paint department mixed the paint, he said, “Looks like you’re going to paint a stop sign.”

“No,” said Penny, “my firehouse. Grandpa, we forgot some stencils for the sign.”

Mac shook his head, grabbed the paint cans and supplies, and put them in their cart.

They found the alphabet stencils. Penny paged through all the stencils on display, but couldn’t find the kind she wanted.

“Most of these are for a baby’s room,” she said. “Do you have a piece of wood for the sign, or should we go to the craft store?”

“I think I can put one together for you,” Mac said, hoping she would forget about it after the house was painted.

The trip had taken only about an hour, but by the time they returned to the Darcy house, Penny’s mom had come home from work.

“Patricia Darcy, what have you and your grandfather been up to today?” she said.

“Grandpa and I are going to paint the treehouse! It’s gonna be white with bright fire engine red shutters.”

“Wow, really. Sounds like fun.”

Her eyebrows were raised, and her head tilted to the side while she looked at Mac. “School will start in two weeks, you two know that, right?”

“We’ll get it done. Won’t we, Grandpa?”

Mac waved his hand, stating, “No problem, provided the weather stays dry.”

“Okay, hey Penny, where are your dolls?”

“They’re in the treehouse. I’ll go get them,” Penny said.

Her mom nodded.

Penny and Mac worked on the treehouse the next day. They had three good weather days before rain set in. Penny painted the walls from 3 feet to 5 feet with the help of a scaffold Mac set up for her. Mac, of course, did the rest using a ladder. The rain allowed them to work in the garage on the shutters. Mac tried to dissuade Penny again to change the color, but Penny persisted.

“Grandpa, it won’t look as good if the color isn’t bright red.”

When Penny’s mom came to pick her up, she asked if either of them had listened to or watched the news today. “No, I had lunch with a friend and was busy doing laundry,” said Denise.

“Penny and I were in the garage, and I don’t like that stuff being on with her here,” said Mac.

“Penny, are you packed and ready to go?” Said her Mom. Penny knew her mom wanted her to leave the room.

“I’m good,” she said.

“Wait for me in the garage, so I can see what you did today?”

Penny knew she might as well go. She would not tell her grandparents what she wanted until she left.

She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. “David Premrose, the driver of the semi, pleaded guilty today. There won’t be a trial.”

Mac’s jaw tightened. After putting his head down for a while, Mac raised it then asked her, “How long did he get?”

“The judge said he would consider the fact that,” her voice wavered, “he took responsibility and make that judgment next week.”

Mac nodded. Denise walked forward and put her hand on his arm. She turned back and looked at Penny’s mom. “Thank you, Betsy, for letting us know. How are you?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m glad for all our sakes we don’t have to go through a trial.”

Denise nodded.

“Okay, I’d better get Penny home.”

Mac and Denise nodded. They both stayed frozen where they stood, immersed in their own thoughts after Betsy left.

The next day, Penny brought a little kid’s book with pictures of a hook-and-ladder rig that she was going to trace for her sign. Denise had already stenciled her name on the plaque. Together, they measured how big the rig could be so they could fit "Fire House" on it.

Mac sat at the kitchen table where they were working and watched her trace the rig on a piece of paper. She would color, glue, and then decoupage it onto the sign. Mac’s forehead was scrunched, and his mouth turned down.

“What’s wrong, Grandpa?”

Mac leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “I just don’t understand why you would want firehouse on your treehouse.”

Penny colored with her red pencil, making tiny strokes to brighten the rig. Her tongue at the side of her lips. She paused and said, “It reminds me of Dad.”

Mac pressed his lips together. “Come here. Your old grandpa needs a hug.”

Penny got up, walked over to Mac, and hugged him, putting her head on his chest.

“How’d you get so smart?” he said to her. “You keep teaching me things.”

“I love you, Grandpa.”

We will be showing over a dozen paintings with characters stepping out, plus more beautiful paintings by Karin starting on August 13, 2027.

Wishing loads of sunshine to you.

Sandra

Feeling as if I lived in the Rainforest, my one doodle was living in her Thunder coat; the other thought she could chase the thunder away with barking. I was cooking a complex dinner of Chicken Parmesan Rossoto. When it takes 15-20 minutes to ladle warm chicken broth into rice, it’s complex.

Anyone who doesn’t feel Climate Change is relevant should be in the homes that are destroyed by these storms. Yes, yes, Zenia has several tornadoes. Yada, yada, yada.

I remember growing up when a storm would knock out the electricity in our then rural home in Middleburg Hts. Dad would build a fire in our fireplace, and it was fun. When we lived in Apple Valley and Jackie and I lived through several times without electricity, I would build a fire in our fireplace stove, and it was my turn to make it fun.

I told my doodles all about it. (My husband is on a golfing trip in Michigan, wearing his Ohio State Golf shirt, of course.)

This storm was dynamic. Lightning was all around us and struck nearby, causing a high-pitched sound in the house and knocking out two of our lights.

We lost one lamp and the internet modem. Not bad considering there are lots of folks without any power. All around us, trees are still down. The airport recorded 82 mph wind.

***

I participated in the Mid-Ohio Indie Author Expo this past weekend. My husband, Ed, was with me (earning his golf trip to Michigan). I was fortunate. Not only was I visited by friends (fellow members of The National League of American Pen Women), but The Lady in Gray was again the best seller for me. We estimated about 75 authors were present. Some gave out candy, pens, stickers, and whatnot. Some dressed up in the genre of their books. There was a girl with pink hair and a pink fairy dress, for example. (No wings.) They come with a hope there will be an audience for their prized project- their book or books. I must tell you each one should be congratulated on their courage. It is hard. Some will never try again to participate because the audience was sparse. The organizers are angels who spend their year putting it together and giving the authors the best they can.

I don’t know the quality of these authors’ writing. I don’t know their expectations. But I do know they came here to share their work. And that is something. It takes courage to create… and share.

Sunshine to you,

Sandra

Never have I viewed any surgery lightly. Never. When I was told I should have cataract surgery, I started to worry. Then I thought about my dad. During the blizzard of 1978, he had cataract surgery at Riverside Hospital. He was to stay three days. Due to the storm, he couldn’t leave and had to stay longer. From then on, he had to wear special contact lenses and then glasses.

My great-aunt Anna also had cataract surgery and, from then on, wore glasses that looked like the bottom of a bottle.

Last Tuesday it was my turn. I went in at 10:30 AM and was home by 3 PM. For two hours, my eye felt as if I had an abrasion on my cornea. I had to wear sunglasses for two days because the light, any light, hurt my eye.

Yesterday I felt distracted or airbrained. I walk every day with or without my doodles. When I walked, I felt lightheaded, and the sidewalk looked hazy. I had to go to the grocery store a few blocks away, and I noticed the signs were blurry. Immediately, I thought something had gone wrong with the cataract surgery. Whatever it was had affected both my eyes.

Then I saw a blue line on the lower left-hand side of my left eye. Blue? My sunglasses are a dark…brown. It turned out I had not exchanged my reading glasses for sunglasses the whole morning. No wonder. That explained everything. I am telling you this because I can laugh at myself, and I hope you joined me.

By the way, by the time I am done with both eyes, I shouldn’t have to wear glasses.

My new projects are coming along. I love jigsaw puzzles, and putting my character’s point of view in the first person and telling about her encounters with other strong, smart women is like a puzzle as I place the pieces of their lives in proximity to each other.

I have received two new challenges for my other project. Working with my friend Karin is wonderful as she challenges me not to divert from my original premise. We live about thirty minutes from each other, and this time, we met halfway. How fun it was to discuss our project at a restaurant and in the parking lot on a very hot day. Somehow, the weather didn’t matter.

Sunshine to you!

Sandra

The Columbus Library Book Festival surprised everyone again. Every year, the number of people who come shocks the participants. The weather included rain and sun, but it did not keep the crowds away. I met people from Cincinnati, Cleveland, Chillicothe, and, of course, Columbus. I was there to let people know about the Ohio Writers Association, which I believe is the best writing group in this town. Having The Lady in Gray on the table as a featured book was exciting. Having someone pick it up, given all the choices, was reassuring.

What I want is what I have. I sit and enjoy the evening heat. I want my daughter and granddaughter to remember what they have achieved as they look at the gardens of joy and the harvest of their hard work. I don’t know what they will see, but I see gardens of knowledge and regret that I have made into flowers. No, I don’t hear from the many students I taught, and perhaps they don’t connect their achievements with me. But that’s okay. Was I the perfect teacher, advisor, or parent? Ah, no. Sorry, that died with the 50s sitcoms. My focus is on my daughter and now her family.

There is so much going on that I don’t understand. I don’t get it when people say they don’t like to talk about politics. Right now, it’s urgent that we talk about what is going on in our country. I have talked to folks who are tired of getting upset about what is happening in Washington, but that only makes the danger easier to ignore. When people shut down, they leave the stakes to others. Isn’t that what those in power want?

Take, for example, the worry about Trump canceling the midterms. Shouldn’t people be preparing to do whatever if he does? Shouldn’t election boards be exploring what to do? Shouldn’t the Democrats and Independents be formulating a plan? I would include Republicans, but I haven’t seen a lot of pushback from them in anything that Trump wants. With the speech he is giving on Thursday, come on, folks. He is prepping to try and cancel the midterms. The media can’t cancel his speech; that’s not their job. But we can turn it off. He will lie and cheat because that’s what he does to preserve his …whatever that is.

Now we are back at a war that he started. Remember, this was not supposed to last long. Secretary of State Rubio and Vice President Vance have said it would be against international law to take control of the Strait of Hormuz. Trump comes out and says that is his intention. I can’t imagine their reactions when he embarrasses and contradicts them, and I can’t ignore what that means for the country.

I am like you. I am an author and retired teen teacher. But I love our democracy and want it to continue. I am ashamed of the generation that followed the Greatest Generation because we had so much potential. We produced a president who is a pedophile, and all his Republican fellow baby boomers are covering their own baby boomer asses. This president, whom I did not vote for, could be an operative of the Russian president. Fiction writers have written more impossible occurrences, but historical authors will in the future.

Now that the fireworks and parades are over, I hope you all had a wonderful Fourth of July. The Obama Presidential opening, the T and T wedding, FIFA games, the many golf tournaments, and friends gathering made it special. I love watching children at parades and the proud individuals who march in them.

Notice I left out fireworks. I used to love them, and I have seen my share on wonderful rooftop places, but now I have to deal with terrified dogs and neighbors blasting them off at wee hours of the morning; they have lost their appeal.

I thought a lot about where I was in my life in 1976. I had just started my teaching career at Berea High School and sat with friends at the Berea Library. Gerald Ford was president then. According to my research, he spent the day giving a speech at Independence Hall, reviewing the “Tall Ships” in New York, and watching the fireworks in DC from the White House. How things changed. Our current president wasn’t welcomed in Philadelphia (according to relatives who live there); cabinet members attended the “Tall Ships,” giving interviews and speeches, and the president, against advisors, gave a speech at 11 p.m. to whatever audience stayed after they were evacuated because of severe thunderstorms. (The advisors wanted to cancel the festivities because of the storm.)

I am working on my two projects as the heat beats down on my poor flowers. My backyard looked a bit strange during the last blast of heat. I had made two tents to protect my hydrangeas and potted flowers. Yes, I am that type of gardener.

The projects are at the same stage. I have a time of doubt when my books and other projects are in process. I work through it, but at least I am used to the feeling now. This weekend is the annual Columbus Book Festival. This year, The Lady in Gray was chosen as a backup featured book for the overall festival and a featured book by the Ohio Writers Association. I will be at Booth #89 on Sunday, 10 a.m. to noon, to sign books. Hope to see you there.

Sunshine to you (But let’s have a break from the heat index!)

Sandra

People face many things as they grow older, such as weight gain, life and physical changes, and ageism, but we have to find richness in our lives so that we can keep growing.

I have friends who are discovering their passion for painting, playing the piano or other instruments, textiles, encaustic art, photography, and writing. They are taking classes and enjoying their new growth. They are also going to rallies to protest.

Women are strong. I watched the opening of the Obama Presidential Center. OMG. He is amazing, but Michelle is spectacular. No offense, Mr. President, but she is a diamond. The special guests, two grown daughters and a famous husband, an exemplary speaker, and she outshone them all. Can you imagine how strong she had to be to survive the nastiness of being in the White House? We all have criticism and barbs thrown our way. It could be from an associate, a boss, your teenager, a supposed friend, or a competitor. We also have the criticism in our own heads to survive. Focusing on a strength rather than a weakness can reduce insecurity, broaden your perspective, and help you grow.

I have come across yet another amazing piece written by one of our American sisters: Elizabeth Cady Stanton. She submitted the Declaration of Sentiments during the first Women’s Rights convention, “to discuss the social, civil, and religious conditions and the Rights of Women” in 1848. (O’Donnell, Norah, The Women of Seneca Falls, We, the Women: The Hidden Heroes Who Shaped America, p. 85) In this declaration, Stanton modeled it after the Declaration of Independence. https://www.gilderlehrman.org/history-resources/essays/second-declaration-independence-1848-declaration-sentiments

A few points struck me as I read it. “The history of mankind is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations on the part of man toward woman,” and the last point of several, “He has endeavored, in every way that he could, to destroy her confidence in her own powers, to lessen her self-respect, and to make her willing to lead a dependent and abject life.” I ask myself, “Why are we women letting men try to do this again?” Think about our rights and the voting plan recently put forth.

When I was teaching, we had standards that we had to teach in our classroom. I am not familiar with the requirements for American History, but why was not more information like this included so our young women would better understand our history? Maybe it is up to women to teach our daughters our own history.

I don’t think a lot of us were raised to be strong. I do think we are finding our strengths, or can find them if we look for them. We can keep growing. I also think we can stop this latest usurpation of our rights.

Sending Sunshine to you.

Sandra

Sitting on the patio and enjoying my flowers that are bringing color to the garden. It’s been a spending week, you know, there are weeks when several things break or need fixing. In our case, it was the air conditioner that led us to realize the furnace was old and that it might be better to replace both at the same time.

We took our one doodle in because our wonderful vet found that one of her teeth was cracked. (Don’t let your dogs have Benebones.) It turns out she had other issues as well, but the cracked tooth alerted us to the problems.

My exciting news is that The Lady in Gray is a featured book of the Ohio Writers Association at the Columbus Book Festival, July 11,12. It will be on sale, and some of the proceeds will go to the OWA. I will be there to sign books the morning of the 12th.

I’ve been busy working on my new projects. The future novel (I hope) is fun to work on because I am back in touch with history. It centers again on the 1850s through 1860s. The center of the book again is the Civil War, but not the battles this time. It is more about how both sides discovered information. My other project is exciting. My partner, Karin Dahl, and I found out we will be featured at the Priscilla R. Tyson Cultural Arts Center in Columbus starting August 13, 2027. I am working on both projects consecutively. The exhibit area is grand, and it will be a challenge to fill it.

We visited my daughter’s family in early June. It is so special to watch my granddaughter dance, play soccer, learn to speak French, and play the piano. She challenges me. I could always read music and could play piano with my right hand, but I never learned the left-hand bass clef. But I started to learn to encourage (I hoped) Evelyn, my granddaughter, to practice. Now, I’m hooked. I just purchased my second piano book and will learn more on the adult level.

I am reading We the Women: The Hidden Heroes who shaped America. I am surprised by all the women who contributed so much, and I didn’t know their names or their achievements. Norah O’Donnell, in her introduction, said as I did, these women were not mentioned in any of my history classes, and they should have been.

I have read The Correspondent by Virginia Evans. I really enjoyed the book's unique style. It took me a bit to understand and piece her letters together to form her story. Probably because I was reading it in short doses. Once I lengthened my reading time, it all made sense. It is special.

I am looking forward to reading World News from Waverly High by Linda Kass, a fellow member of The National League of American Pen Women. Linda keeps me aware of books I would miss if it weren’t for her newsletter and wonderful bookstore, Gramercy Books. On my reading list are Atlantic staff writer Gal Beckerman’s April book, How to be a Dissident, Roger Berkowitz, whose upcoming October release,A World We Share: Hannah Arendt and the Power of Friendship in a Broken World, Jacqueline Freidland, upcoming August novel, Breathing Under Water, and Ann Patchett, Whistler,

Sunshine to you!

Sandra

Thanks for joining me.

I’ve been thinking about people and what their lives are like right now. Of course, I’m an author, so I am wondering what people are actually in the mood to read when the days get long or times are tough. I realized I’ve never actually asked you directly.

So here’s my question:

When summer rolls around and the days slow down a little, which calls to you more?

Please comment below if you prefer something that fully absorbs you, such as a story you can completely disappear into.

Or, please comment if you prefer something you can return to in small moments, like short poems, stories, or essays.

No wrong answer! I just want to make more of whichever one actually lands for you.

Your click (or a quick reply, if you feel like it) shapes what I share next.

We all need things that lift us up or offer escape. Seeing the Apex truck in the neighborhood reminded me of a summer in Columbus during a 90+ degree heatwave, when our air conditioning went out, and we ended up in a motel with our dog. To avoid that panic again, we now keep a portable air conditioner as backup.

We are going to see the musical Water for Elephants this weekend, and the Columbus Arts Festival is happening downtown. We will roam around and enjoy the artists' hard work.

Let me know what you prefer in the comments below, or how you are doing as summer comes around.

Sunshine to you.

Sandra

Cultural Art Center Exhibit 2027

Hocking Hills Book Fair

Outlander

Columbus Book Fair 2026

The last two months have been swift. I looked at the calendar today and thought, “Where did the last two months go?” After Amelia Island, the pace picked up! My husband and I call our backyard and its patio our eighth room. It’s where I spend more time from Spring through October. We put up my very small greenhouse, and as the garden stores start putting things out, I shop with my coupons in hand. I have already plotted out my gardens, so I rely on my list to guide me. All the sensitive plants go in the greenhouse until Mother’s Day. This year was a real roller coaster ride. I didn’t bend to the temptation to take the plants out when it was really warm here.

Now I have all the plants out, and I noticed today that the tomato plants have flowers. (It’s the little things.)

I received a call from my friend Nancy DaFoe. She is now the president of The National League of American Pen Women. She asked me to take on a minor role on the board. I am going to help with outreach for our group. She is a wonderful author. If you haven’t seen her Substack, you should check it out. It’s called the Long and Short of It.

Karin Dahl and I continue preparing for our exhibit at The Cultural Arts Center in September of 2027. It seems so far away, but we both know better. We keep brainstorming how we will put a magazine together so people can look at, read, or listen to the paintings and the characters that have emerged from them. I’d love to hear if anyone has experience with Kickstarter.

I did a podcast for the Hocking Hills Book Fair, which was on May 16. It was fun to be in front of a microphone again, but now to talk about The Lady in Gray was bliss. Mark Bohack at 98.3 WLGN (The Wolf) in Logan was fun to work with. He has been doing radio for forty years. I was amused that the radio channel or program was called The Wolf. It seems to follow me. I taught at Worthington Kilbourne for 25 years and collected many versions of its mascot, The Wolf.

Preparation for a book fair takes planning. Inventory, brand color decisions, and advertising are tedious but worth it. After watching other authors and seeing how customers reacted to them, I decided that having candy and doodads didn’t really drive sales. It might bring a person or two to a table, but the books and how an author talks about them are key. I guess my mentors would call it a pitch.

The Hocking Hills Book Fair has such a nice venue. It rained at first that afternoon, bringing quite a few people down to the fair. I met a young woman whose name was Corinne. Tall and elegant with red hair and green eyes, she was striking. An older gentleman asked me, “How do you write a book?” and I had to say, “Every author is different”, but I did enjoy our discussion. I heard about a daughter who was studying Criminal Justice. She bought Undercover: Becoming Street Smart. An author I spoke to gave me things to think about. She had several books and talked about her four children: two who did not graduate from high school, one who took digital courses in the summer to graduate, and her youngest, who needed to complete one online course by the end of the month to graduate. I was surprised that, one, she is an author, and, two, with all the programs that school systems create, I really believed it was rare for someone not to leave with a diploma. No judgment. I was surprised.

I have enjoyed watching and reading people’s reactions to Outlander’s ending. I just finished the book Go Tell the Bees That I’ve Gone before the Finale aired. I was curious how the program would end. My husband was not satisfied, and judging from all the folks out there discussing and parsing it, he was not alone. I did like the book better. (No surprise.) Mainly, because it could take time to explain and give details that the program could not.

I do have good news. The Lady in Gray will be at the Columbus Book Fair July 11-12. It is a featured book at the Ohio Writers’ Association booth. I will be there the morning of the twelfth at least. It was one of the novels considered for inclusion in the Book Fair, and was placed on standby in case another author pulled out. Now it has found a place to be sold, and I am very happy to have been chosen by the Ohio Writers’ Association.

I wish you continued Sunshine!

Sandra

“I hit the floor at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner mid conversation with Rep. Jamie Raskin, who heroically protected me, whispering, ‘You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok,’ while my host from The Boston Globe laid on the ground while furiously taking notes, and thousands of journalists, photographers, and editors took cover under tables and beneath chairs,” Kennedy wrote in a Facebook post.

Raskin also said that after the two got up from the ground after two to three minutes, the “first thing” that Kerry Kennedy remarked was, “This is happening in schools across the country, and the kids have no resources to process their trauma,” (Fields of The Hill).

Talking about what he witnessed at the WHCD, Wolf Blitzer said, “Now the people in that room know what students and teachers feel.” He went on to say he hoped it would make a difference. But seriously, does it take something like this to have empathy for everyone who has faced or was required to prepare for this type of gunman experience? Is it so far-fetched to think that any person in any legislative position would believe that more gun laws should be enacted without having to be under gunfire? Or have one of their own children, wives, husbands, or relatives be involved in this type of horrifying experience? I, for one, can tell you that once you have experienced this, you are never the same because you then realize how easily it can happen again.

My daughter was glad when I retired from teaching. My classroom was on the balcony of an open cafeteria. The walls were made of medium-density fiberboard, designed primarily to reduce sound, not to protect against bullets. When the school had practiced lockdowns, I had three external doors to cover. Like many schools today, the school had a student bring a gun to school. We had students open outside doors for others, even after multiple warnings not to.

While my daughter was in high school, they had idiots claiming a bomb was in the school. She was determined to go to school anyway. Last night, she was the Boston Globe host Kerry Kennedy referred to.

For years, citizens have asked for reasonable gun control laws. Other citizens claim it violates the Constitution and that they have the right to bear arms. When the Constitution was written, the citizens had muskets and handguns. Does that reasonably include a gun with high muzzle velocity? They are used for long-range big-game hunting or precision shooting. Or the gun used at Sandy Hook XM-15? It resulted in 154 rounds being shot in less than four minutes.

I wish I had answers for this issue. There are a lot of things in society I don’t understand, and this is one of them. I would love to know what you think.

Wishing sunshine to you.

Sandra

.

This is our second visit to Amelia. We visited there two years ago.

rs ago and found it charming, friendly, and wholesome. The people who live there really do not want more people moving there, but they love the tourists. The beaches are not crowded and are kept clean. For the most part, I think individuals respect that. We loved seeing the rabbits and turtles among the sand dunes.

Fort Clinch, named after General Clinch, famous for his contributions in the War of 1812 and the Seminole Wars, is the best-preserved 19th-century fort I have seen. The masonry is beautiful as I walk through some of the tunnels, arched in red brick, and I could feel the difference in temperature. This had to make a difference in the hot Florida weather in preserving food and helping soldiers find relief. I didn’t feel the presence that I had felt when I visited other forts. No battles were fought here, and that could be the reason.

The park’s advertising boasts daily tours and period reenactors “depicting garrison life.” We saw only one grumpy man in uniform, who seemed more interested in carrying on conversations with other park rangers.

I have to confess, Lydia would have liked this fort (my main character in The Lady in Gray, who served in the Confederate Army dressed as a man). The latrines were singles, built into the buildings, and had doors. How her life would have been easier.

The fort was abandoned after the Spanish-American War, but in the 1930s, the CCC rebuilt parts that were deteriorated. During WW2, it was used as a security and communication post.

Amelia Island does a lot to preserve its dunes and save its creatures. We kept seeing translucent blobs on the beaches in the morning. It seems jellyfish beach themselves when they are dying, and the seagulls clean them up. I did read they were dangerous even in death. We had a resident turtle who had a bit of a cave built into the sand.

The lavender shop in Amelia was delightful. I liked how the coffee shop used the shop’s lavender in its lavender lattes. The shop gave its recipe, and I will use their lavender until mine is ready in my garden.

The hat was a plus. My sunhat needed to be replaced. So, here is its replacement.

Wishing you Sunshine!

Sandra

Now the leaves have started to come out, and it is in its next stage. The daffodils, tulips, and lenten roses are tougher, and they have withstood the pendulum of weather.

This time of year, I especially love Emily Dickinson. She has a way of expressing Spring’s character.

PURPLE CLOVER

There is a flower that bees prefer,

And butterflies desire;

To gain the purple democrat/

The humming-birds desire.

...

THE GRASS

The grass so little has to do,—-

A sphere of simple green,

With only butterflies to brood,

And bees to entertain.

...

We have uncovered my plant stand, and I have started spinach seeds. I have noticed our patio furniture is worn. Somehow, I didn’t notice it last fall. I did purchase a new rocking chair, the type that swivels and rocks. My husband will be glad. No matter where I put the one I have, he catches his ankle on its rockers. I imagine the old one will find itself on the curb as soon as the new one is put together. I’m hoping this new one is a tad higher, since I love to write outside, and the current one is low to the table.

The horseradish turned out so good this year, or I did a better job of grinding it. I recommend to everyone who loves horseradish to grow their own. Of course, in the early spring when it’s still chilly, you have to open all the windows while grinding. Picture yourself cutting into an especially juicy onion. The horseradish makes it hard to avoid its fragrance, and Kleenex is necessary for your runny nose and tearing eyes.

Greeting my neighbors and catching up with them is also one of my favorite things in the Spring. Walking Sunshine and Livie, our doodles, take a bit longer, but it is worth hearing their news.

Here’s to a continued good Spring Season and fewer scary threats from our President.

Sunshine to you,

Sandra

I have the good fortune of spending my birthdays with my husband and my daughter’s family. We live in different cities, six hours away, so it is not as if I can walk or drive to her home easily. It takes effort to get there. This year, due to the government shutdown, we had to decide which would be easier: driving or flying. Long lines, possibly ICE presence that I didn’t really want burned into my brain, and basic chaos, we chose to drive.

We enjoyed our ride, using the drive to reconnect with some of our favorite old songs by Elton John, Bruce Springsteen, Bruno Mars, Michael Bublé, and Billy Joel. Can you imagine riding down the highway with two people singing, “Piano Man, “The Lazy Song,” “Tiny Dancer,” “The Man,” or Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift? (Sorry, I admit the last two were my favorites.) It was fun. Even stopping to eat at Cracker Barrel with its huge menu was entertaining.

The chaos of the time has brought a need to find ways to find joy. Being a baby boomer, I thought that, in the sixties, after our generation had heard “Ask not...” from President Kennedy, we would do some good for our country. When I was in seventh-grade seminar, we were told that there were forces out there looking to destroy everything we thought and everyone we thought was good. Tough thing to hear when you’re so young, but here we are, and I still remember sitting thinking how is that possible?

I saw young men sitting watching television while numbers and birthdays flashed on the screen. They were afraid of where their number would fall in the draft. Classmates died in Vietnam. When I was teaching, I resented soldiers coming into the high school to sell enlistment to students. I am not against the soldiers. I just don’t want them dying in a far-off country for a reason other than to protect our nation. Or being sent to pick up garbage in our nation’s capital, frivolously. I hear on the news that the Secretary of War (and possibly our president’s sons) was profiting off our soldiers by buying stocks belonging to defense companies is despicable. (CNN, MSNow, Financial Times)

I was relieved to see the millions of people at the “No Kings” rallies. It is hard to believe anything at this point. It is confusing times, and taking a ride and singing at the top of my lungs and hugging my grandchild, my daughter, and her husband is the best I can do to quiet my anxiety about our country.

I’d love to hear what you’re doing to help your sanity in these times. I’ll read every thought.

Wishing you Sunshine.

Sandra

Thinking back to when I was in high school or teaching high school, I wondered how often women in history were mentioned. Of course, I remember Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, and Abigail Adams, but what about the women who worked to secure women’s right to vote? Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Alice Paul, or Lucy Stone. I think I would have liked to have known in 1872 that Victoria Woodhull was the first woman to run for president, with Frederick Douglass as her running mate. Now I do admit I graduated high school a long time ago.

Let’s fast-forward to when I taught high school, since I only retired about 5 years ago. I remember discussing women writers in my American Literature class. I was relating that it is said that quite a few Anonymous essays or poems were written by women who, at the time, were not supposed to write for publication. The discussion digressed into the politics of the day, when Hillary Clinton was running against Donald Trump. A boy commented that there was never a woman who did anything important and couldn’t run a country. A girl asked him if he hadn’t heard of Queen Elizabeth. He commented that his middle school history teacher said she was a whore. The girl became angry. She retorted that Queen Elizabeth was running the British government. I intervened. I asked him first which Queen Elizabeth he was referring to and why his history teacher would say such a thing. He smiled and said, “You know the one who knew Shakespeare.” For a Junior in high school, I decided he was either trying to get a rise out of the girls or we needed to have an individual discussion. The discussion was interesting, and all I can say is that his thoughts on women in general were a bit skewed.

The class did discuss important women and made a list. The list, however, was of modern women whom the girls knew: Margaret Thatcher, Gloria Steinem, Oprah Winfrey, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Sarah Palin, and Michelle Obama. The same boy said, but none of those women were running a country. I added information about Margaret Thatcher and Angela Merkel, but he seemed unimpressed.

Part of my teaching assignment was to run a high school news bureau. Every Friday, we ran a ten-minute news program, and I tried to insert real news subjects beyond the high school. In February, the administration required the news team to produce a piece on Black History. The team covered all aspects of individual achievements in society, from news to politics to science. Now I wish I had done the same for Women’s History Month.

Maybe if people knew more about Marie Curie, Ada Lovelace, Rosalind Franklin, or Rachel Louise Carson, women would have a better sense of what they can accomplish. Perhaps we would have less misogyny in our society.

How about you —what do you remember about what women contributed to history?

Wishing you Sunshine.

Sandra

I have finally cooled off after a comment from our supposed president to the Women’s Gold Medal Hockey Team. None of you wanted to read or hear what I was thinking. Misogyny has been in our society since its onset. The prejudice was brought over the ocean with the first settlers. Witches were women and could be burned at the stake or hung out from heresay. If they did not have a man to claim them, they were tossed out to fend for themselves. Women could not vote until 1920 and were considered property. The Married Women’s Property Act gave all women in the U.S. the right to own property in 1900. However, full financial independence, including the ability to obtain mortgages and credit without a male co-signer, was not achieved until the 1974 Equal Credit Opportunity Act.

Many inventions were claimed by men but created by women. Literature that was labeled “Unknown” because, by society’s standards, women were not allowed to claim their work. Even one of my favorite pieces of literature, The Great Gatsby, included passages taken from his wife, Zelda’s, diary. He gave her no credit and criticized her writing as substandard.

March is Women’s History Month. I was delighted to purchase Nora O’Donnell’s book, We the Women, to read. It just came out. I will be writing about women this month to celebrate.

We have entered a sad time in our history that would have been avoided had Hilary Clinton or Kamala Harris been elected. We have a person in a high office who has flaunted being a misogynist and a possible pedophile. I believe that women can unite to remove him and his minions from office.

Women are powerful if we believe in ourselves.

Sunshine to all.

Sandra

I am starting a new project. Like every artist or author, I’m sure, I don’t know if it will actually turn into a book. I have started researching, which is part of my creative process that might seem small.

But to me, it’s everything.

Before I write the first page, I research the time. Most of my main characters are women, so I review what it was like for them. I want to know how women of certain classes dress, what rights they had or did not have. We can believe a time is like now. But think about that. The rights we have as women have changed in the last year or two.

I don’t start in the beginning. I start where what inspired me. For The Lady in Gray, I started at Camp Chase Cemetery and worked my way to the battles that were central to the book.

Yesterday, I researched how a woman would change her skin tone. My character is a detective. She needs to have an olive skin tone. She is part of an investigation that takes place in 1855. They did have make-up like rouges and such during that time, but this was different. My character has two choices. She can use a semi-permanent process. It is a choice since she will be playing “this part” for a few days, but then she has to wait for it to wear off. She can take fresh green husks of walnuts and boil them until the water turns a deep, dark brown. Strain it through cheesecloth and apply it to her skin.

This could result in a lot of teasing from her male counterparts afterwards. It could lighten the story.

Or she could take greasepaint, mix it with cocoa butter, and add “bole armenia,” a reddish-brown earth pigment. This would be applied like makeup, and make sure all her exposed skin is covered.

Since she is not in any danger for this role, she could apply it every day she is investigating.

These choices are fun. It’s one of the things that keeps me writing.

Better late than never, my amaryllis will be flowering soon. Yes, they are Christmas flowers, but mine don’t have a sunny window until now, so they’re late. I’ll have them maybe for St. Patrick’s Day. Outside, even with the mountains of snow not quite melted, the warm spell (60 degrees, right now) has crocuses starting to show their leaves, and the Lenten roses (Helleborus) are turning a deep green. Mother Nature is amazing.

I finished reading Paula McLain’s Skylark. I love her description and depth of characterization. There are two stories that are connected to Paris and its underground tunnels. Once again, I learned, as I did from Kristin Hannah’s Nightingale, how horrible it was in Paris during the Nazi occupation. The similarities of the Nazis grabbing people out of their beds and homes are terribly similar to what ICE did in Minnesota. I recommend it.

Sunshine and warm weather to you!

Sandra

P.S. What project are you working on?

My battle with Technology and Loving the Mundane

It has been a week of working with technology. I advertise The Lady in Gray on Facebook. It seems more effective to expand to new readers. Suddenly, I was being blocked for a reason I could not understand. I fooled around until I was completely confused.

You have to know I take classes to help me understand all the new technology. I had taken an advanced course from Shelby Leigh’s Creative Content Club. Besides being a Creative Marking expert herself, she brings in experts in several areas for Master Classes. I took one on Facebook Marketing. I watched the class video several times to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Losing one night’s sleep over it, I decided to ask for help. It took an hour, but the problem was narrowed down to not knowing how to push a reset button. No, it wasn’t covered in class. Perhaps troubleshooting should be added.

After several letters to the audiobook company about The Lady in Gray’s quality control, I received an email saying it passed! It still has to go through Amazon’s quality control, but it will be on several other distributors soon, including Spotify. Since it was due in September, along with the paperback and ebook, I was relieved to have it off my To-Do List. Bouts of laryngitis and lack of time delayed its recording. It was set back further by the incorrect metadata. It took me a while to figure out a Metadata snafu.

Frigid temperatures have stopped me from taking my usual walks with my doodles. In the last two days, we have set off down the shoveled sidewalks. We are lucky there are very few owners who don’t shovel their walks. I love thinking about the mundane things around me to open up possibilities of description. I did love noticing how you can tell when a home has children. It has been a tad warmer, so the snow is settling as it melts. The houses with children had front lawns of choppy, wavelike snow. The homes without had pristine, smooth snow. Water sounds from snow melting, flowing off roofs, and swirling down sewer grates were relaxing. Birds are chirping again, and squirrels are keeping our doodles busy as they scurry around to eat the birdseed that is on the patio. One brave rodent tried to climb the shepherd’s hook to reach the feeder. It slid down the pole a few times but managed to hop up somehow, only to struggle and panic when it couldn’t quite find a place for one of its legs. It finally jumped to settle for the seeds left on the ground.

I am working on a new historical fiction idea and have begun researching. The woman I am researching has had other books written about her, and I have read them. One was very cut-and-dry research. The other didn’t really portray what had to be the woman’s personality and spirit. I don’t know if it will play out, but it is fun to do the research. I’ll keep you posted.

Hi Everyone,

I’m glad you are here.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about 2016.

That was ten years ago — which feels impossible to say out loud — and I dreamed of continuing to be an author, but I was teaching high school, and I just didn’t have the time or creative energy to do it. All that energy went into lesson plans and working with students.

I was aware that time wasn't guaranteed, but I just knew I couldn’t not do it.

Since then, a lot has changed, but that spark became a reality in 2019 when I retired from teaching high school. I did teach at Capital University for 4 years. During that time, I wrote and published two books. And I owe a big part of that to people like you, who’ve supported this creative work through the ups, downs, and everything in between.

Since then, I have published two more The Springridge Incident and my most recent, The Lady in Gray. I’ve worked with a few character sketches. One I will share today: Captain Macmillan Darcy. It’s connected with a new project I’m working on with Karin Dahl, abstract artist extraordinaire. When I examine her beautiful art and color, I see the auras of characters. It is fun to develop little stories about the character auras I see.

It feels good to reflect. It feels even better to keep going.

And that’s exactly what I plan on doing this year!

Here’s what I’m working on:

• A new historical novel with another dynamic female

• More character sketches based on Karin Dahl’s paintings. We will exhibit these at the Cultural Arts Center in Columbus, Ohio, in the Fall of 2027.

Thanks for being here for the journey, and here’s to another wonderful 10 years!

Sunshine to you (and the hope it will melt some of the 11” of Columbus, Ohio snow!)

Sandra

P.S. If you remember how you first found me or my work, I’d love to know! Hit reply and tell me. I read every response.

Captain Macmillan Darcy - Gold

Mac is sixty-four and lives outside Chicago. His hands are calloused, his fingers long. He has white and grey hair and piercing blue eyes. His smile is brilliant and loving. He needs to be useful, even in retirement. He works as a handyman for clients who find him through word of mouth.

Working out daily and playing golf keep him agile and slim. He dotes on his granddaughter, Penny, and his dog, Charlie, a German Shepherd mix.

Mac spent twenty-five years as a Firefighter, working in one of the busiest firehouses in Chicago. He earned his way up to captain, so his wife and friends call him Cap or Mac. He and his wife had one son who followed him into the service as a firefighter. Mac Jr. died in an accident when a drunk driver cut off the hook and ladder he was on as it raced to an industrial fire. They care for their granddaughter, Penny (Patricia), while her mother works. Mac still caresses his wife and brings flowers from his garden or store.

His energy is shown in the bright oranges, whites, and off-whites, and the blue patch is the creativity as he constructs a deck or a project for a client. His warmth to his family, especially Penny, vibrates in yellows. Green, on the lower right, comes from his love of Penny. Mac watches her grow and how she continues to teach him how to cope with the loss of his son. The scarring, some superficial, others deeper, are the experiences of loss when he was doing his job as a firefighter. They are more numerous in the darker upper left corner because they are in the past but remain in his subconscious. He still dreams of horrendous fires. The deepest cut represents blaming himself for his son’s death. He feels responsible for his son following in his footsteps and becoming a firefighter.

A friend of mine, Darlene Yeager-Torre, uses her art to raise awareness of the plight of birds. Her latest work made me stop to admire how she was doing this. She uses natural material as well as encoustic mixed media. “Encaustic mixed media is an ancient painting technique using heated beeswax, pigment, and resin, combined with diverse modern materials like paper, photos, oils, pastels, and found objects, fused together with heat to create rich textures, depth, and unique surfaces that blend traditional methods with contemporary collage and assemblage” (Google).

The robin-egg-blue shell has white encaustic birds melting on the outside, and inside are the facts of what we, as humans, are losing. A beautifully painted egg is found inside a real bird’s nest.

According to Cornell Labs, nearly three billion birds are gone. A new study shows deep, long-term losses have occurred in virtually all groups in the United States and Canada. On the rim of Darlene’s art piece, she displayed this troubling information. It’s genius.

I’ve been reading Skylark by Paula McLain. She ties two distinct centuries together in Paris through the common theme of strong, valiant women. One setting is 1600 Paris, the other 1940 Paris. Both portray Paris society as oppressed. With all that is happening in our society today, I am wondering if she had any idea that, as she wrote Skylark, it might serve as a wake-up call. Instead of the guild as in 1600 Paris, or Nazis in 1940s Paris, we have ICE agents gathering people from their homes.

In Columbus, the weather services are telling us we are going to have a burst of snow and cold this weekend. My husband and I went to the grocery and hardware stores today, and I noticed how quiet the stores were. We are customers who talk to the clerks and get to know them. They said they are bracing for the onslaught of people gathering groceries and toilet paper tomorrow and Saturday morning. (Yes, toilet paper. Remember when that was a thing? What a lasting memory!) The hardware store had a display of snow shovels and de-icer ready to be grabbed. The grocery had all the shelves stocked and a few displays of toilet paper stacked.

Until the snow falls, I wish you sunshine!

Sandra

Working to sell on Facebook

Scams

Decluttering

I started the new year off right by finishing the audio version of The Lady in Gray.

It’s been a trial. Between two bouts of laryngitis and redos, it has taken four months. The story requires pace changes and many characters to differentiate. Remembering each character as I moved from chapter to chapter was a challenge. It was fun. I did learn that my “studio” had a slight change in sound from early fall to winter. A fan came on as I was finishing the last of the narration. In all twenty-seven chapters, I did not have that issue, but doing the closing credits, I saw a wavering line appear on the soundtrack. It was then that I heard the fan.

Now I wait for quality control to give the okay to distribute the audio version.

I have been working on how to sell on Facebook. It is complicated, but it seems more efficient than advertising on Amazon. The system seems to target demographics more effectively. It took many lessons from “Marketing by Shelby” to create a good ad, but it is getting results. I have seen authors spend $ 600–$800 on Amazon ads. The sale result was not near that. I have learned how to create an AI image. It was fun, but I still feel it’s not particularly honest.

I have 39 scams in my folder. There are so many ways people will attempt to scam an indie author. The one thing I notice is that they all use the same patterns and words. They take the summary of The Lady in Gray and reword it in almost the same way. They all have thousands of people in their Book Clubs. They all have the same amount to buy your way in front of all these wonderful, interested readers. I received the first email the second week The Lady in Gray was launched. I was wary but pleased that someone would want me to speak at their book club. Ha! I even talked to my friends who were marketing experts, and they said maybe I should try it. Then the second arrived and the third. Now I warn others to avoid these scams.

As I am taking down the holiday decorations, I think about the fun we had. I am going through the decorations that I didn’t use. It has propelled me to clean out cupboards. I am amazed when I find cocoa from 2020 and many other items that have expired a long time ago. I am pitching pens long ago dry. Games that no longer have all the pieces. Puzzles that kept us sane during the pandemic are going to places where others can use them. I decided we put things “away” when we are not sure what else to do with them. It does feel good to see things organized and quite a few open spaces. I guess the official term is “I am decluttering. “

Best and wishing you sunshine.

Sandra