Just a quick post to let everyone know that Ashford is officially available online at the link below. Amazon.com is currently pending, but it should be available there shortly, also available by request in your local bookstores and libraries. Anyone who requests it shall have my undying gratitude, and if you come to Chewelah I'll make you fresh-brewed espresso and home-made tiramisu. Tired now. It has been a very long but productive day, and I intend to leave my book-launch preparations for tomorrow and go downstairs to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa and somebody else's brilliant prose.
https://www.createspace.com/3695713
Showing posts with label hot cocoa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hot cocoa. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
111 on 1-11-11
I must have some sort of celebration. It is the eleventh day of the first month of 2011, and at this moment my blog has been viewed 111 times so far this month. So thank you, anonymous 111th viewer, for turning a rather dreary day into something more auspicious.
It's cold today, not just ordinary winter cold, but that fierce biting cold that creeps into your bones until you feel like you'll never really be warm again. That type of cold doesn't seem to care what the thermometer says. Sometimes I can feel it on a summer day, although it does come more often in the winter. It's cold the way some people's houses are cold. It doesn't matter what the thermostat says. It's simply cold, uninviting. It doesn't want you there. It wants to freeze you out. Of course, this could only be my overactive imagination, but I don't think so. The only solution is to warm it somehow, like trying to thaw open the car door with a hair dryer.
This afternoon my warming solution is hot cocoa in a tea-cup, one hour of silence, the music of A. R. Rahman, a ballet class, and a quiet evening with my husband.
It's cold today, not just ordinary winter cold, but that fierce biting cold that creeps into your bones until you feel like you'll never really be warm again. That type of cold doesn't seem to care what the thermometer says. Sometimes I can feel it on a summer day, although it does come more often in the winter. It's cold the way some people's houses are cold. It doesn't matter what the thermostat says. It's simply cold, uninviting. It doesn't want you there. It wants to freeze you out. Of course, this could only be my overactive imagination, but I don't think so. The only solution is to warm it somehow, like trying to thaw open the car door with a hair dryer.
This afternoon my warming solution is hot cocoa in a tea-cup, one hour of silence, the music of A. R. Rahman, a ballet class, and a quiet evening with my husband.
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