Dive In at Any Age
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Inspiration
Did Someone Hear A Bell
I lived in Southern Pennsylvania for most of my life. Winter memories are stored in my heart like scenes out of a Currier and Ives postcard. We lived down a winding lane where my house was tucked away next to my only neighbors, my dear parents.
Those winters were filled with shoveling and plowing amid snowball fights, building snowmen, and carving toboggan runs, as exhilarating as the Indy 500. The crisp snow would sting our skin as it slipped into our boots, and inside our gloves with frozen mini-crystal balls. No one complained, we had the time of our lives. Of course, the magic always faded when it was time to head off to work the next day.
Snowcrete on Kent Island
As I sit in my new home on Kent Island in Maryland, I find myself encountering a new experience.
Snowcrete.
Unlike the powdery snow of my childhood, this storm delivered a solid sheet of ice at least six inches, as unyielding as concrete. The snowcrete, as the locals call it, could be used as a foundation for the next Empire State Building! There is no hope of shoveling or plowing, making a snowman or having snowball fights, and a four-wheel-drive vehicle doesn’t make a difference in the unmovable cement. The only hope of getting a daily fix outside is a possible skate to the mailbox at the end of the lane, which is quite a distance and, at my age, rather treacherous. The talk on the island, “It hasn’t been this way since 1970.”
And now…
The Bay today!
As I am imprisoned at my keyboard, this snowcrete has caused me to reflect on those winter childhood memories. What I miss most is my doorbell. In my youth, the doorbell inside most every home consisted of long hollow tubes hanging from either a plastic or metal box. Most played the same traditional “Westminster Chimes.” According to the Carroll County Comet article by Susan Holsinger, this sequence of notes makes up the fifth and sixth bars of “I Know My Redeemer Liveth” from Handel’s “Messiah.”
The Old Fashion Door Bell
The doorbell symbolized home and family, who in our house were usually congregated in the kitchen. At the first note of melody, everyone raced toward the front door. My mother or grandmother usually in the lead after shoving us kids aside. We stampeded in a train down a long narrow hallway from the kitchen. Grandma wringing her hands in her apron preparing to greet whoever with eager expectation.
The Ring of Fairy Dust
In my daily routine, writing is solitary. I spend hours waiting for responses from editors and publishers, which test my patience—never my strong suit. The ring doorbell is plugged in unnoticed somewhere in the house and breaks the monotony with a sweet sound as if from Tinkerbell herself is zipping around the room sprinkling her magic dust. I rush toward the door, leaping over my dog Scarlett, who bulldozes her way to greet the arrival with the same enthusiasm as my grandmother decades ago. We are in search of presents; the delivery of packages from Amazon or a new blouse from Macy’s—small presents that I hide before hubby gets home!
Getting ready for the big show!
I must admit the snowcrete here is just as beautiful as bygone days and is ringing the bells of inspiration to create more surprises for 2026! It is locking me in to prepare for my next big event where I hope to see you!
Come see me at The Horse World Expo, Pennsylvania Farm Show Complex with special guest authors, Montie Eagle and Maria Hilagras! This show will kick off my new writing adventure for 2026!
Fingers-crossed that my non-fiction, The Garden of Horses Between Us, and my fictions, Private Mom II and The Last Butterfly will be headed to the publisher later this year!
Happy Reading!
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Healing from Horses
Do you ever feel overwhelmed?
I have been working on my next novel, The Secret Life of….. This project has been lurking on my computer and consistently calling my name for decades- no kidding. I have now vowed to address this novel before I dive deeper into another.
The Secret Life of….
The words and chapters have been ruminating inside me and I have reached the crucial point of dissection; too many words. This stage of editing can be daunting. When I need a break or diversion, I head to a place of enlightenment, a place that has changed me forever with no words, only hugs and whinnies!
THE BARN
Photo credit Susan Hale
I have found that when feeling overwhelmed or unappreciated, volunteering is simply fulfilling because of what it gives back to my heart, especially when the staff is furry!
The incredible healing of horses!
Let me tell you about Talisman Therapeutic Equestrian Center-=q, where horses provide healing!
After even one session of working and watching these creatures transforming the lives of children, veterans, the elderly, and every human they touch, I can return to my writing desk changed and recharged to tackle the novel or other issues. There is never a moment after I volunteer that I feel unappreciated. Instead, I leave feeling blessed. They have given so much more to me than I could give them. If you search for an uplift in your life, please consider volunteering or donating. A single lesson requires multiple assistants along with the instructor. All of which is funded by donations.
To help continue the life-changing programs at Talisman Therapeutic Riding, consider making a gift here: https://talismantherapeuticriding.org/donate/
So on to the dissection of The Secret Life of…. Sorry the title is a secret!
But hopefully coming soon!
Reading can relieve life pressures too!
What better than novels with furry characters and strong WOMEN!
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Retiring With A Vision
Have I told you I am afraid of birds? (Thank you, Alfred Hitchcock and his dreadful movie,
The Birds.)
Although this fear of feathered friends has not stopped me from reaching the age of retirement, I have decided to include birds in my future vision. Meet Miss Piggy, a Gyrfalcon. At our first meeting, Miss Piggy was only 17 weeks old, but not small in size by any means. She was already on her way to a possible 63 inch wingspan. Ms. Piggy will grow to become one of the largest breeds of falcons in existence. This raptor is known for its size and powerful hunting abilities.
Why would I even consider entering her cage, and how would she be connected to my vision for retirement?
In the above picture, Falcons are hooded by Falconers to remove their primary sense of sight, which is extremely sensitive. This allows for safe transport and controls their environment to focus on training. Removal of the hood indicates the time to hunt and builds a trust relationship between falcon and falconer. When the hood is on the falcon, it is called being hoodwinked
Recently, I have been focused on expanding the list of publications I query. The beauty
industry included. I have stored a collection of journals from my forty years of
practice that are jammed on every shelf of an old refrigerator.
In my past, I have neglected to send even one article to publications specializing in cosmetology, barbering or simply beauty for one simple reason. I was hoodwinked much like Miss Piggy in the above picture. Hoodwinked by one critic’s remarks.
Years prior, I had queried a well-known beauty industry organization proposing an article for
their publication. The rejection came quick in one sentence, “We only accept articles from our visionaries.” No apology or no let me down gently with an, “after review, we simply cannot…”Just a blunt, “You are not one of our visionaries.”
A single rejection ended my querying in the industry I spent decades contributing to in so many ways, from simply styling to owning a business, and mentoring. And although rejection and writing go hand in hand, this response sliced my heart. I felt hoodwinked into being a chicken!
Placing your work into the public eye is like presenting your soul on a platter. Rejection is the serrated edge that shreds it into pieces. I was not confident enough to try again at that time.I can tell you one thing: At this age, I do have a vision. I will be writing and submitting as I turn the corner in my next chapter of life. This time before submitting, I reached out to the publication editor, “Just whom do you consider a visionary?” To my surprise, she answered. “We have a visionary team, consisting of our largest sponsors, you know, Redken, Goldwell, TIGI etc…”
Well, I too am a visionary, and I will not be hoodwinked again! I decided my future retirement will include inspirational people and organizations who offer more than a simple rejection.
Organizations like Talisman Therapeutic Riding Center, which bring hope through equines and people like Jon Shaw and, of course, Miss Piggy.
When I heard about Jon Shaw through a fund raiser at Talisman. I immediately was intrigued. I had to research this man who is a lifelong expert on the ancient art of Horseback Falconry. This is not a sport but a form of hunting before even the invention of the musket. When he invited me to join Miss Piggy’s socialization training as she learns to hunt on horseback how could I say no. Never suspecting I would truly become an involved participant.
Notice my eyes are shut. But I am smiling at this accomplishment not only for Miss Piggy but mainly me! Thankfully, Yuma (the equine expert) was relaxed for all of us and a pro at her job!
My retirement vision:
Don’t be hoodwinked,
join the hunt, face your fears!
Please join me as I write future articles (and novels) about the journey with Miss Piggy, Jon Shaw, and Talisman Therapeutic Equestrian Center, where they deliver hope to so many.
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