Romance Collection #7: Garden T-shirt

I started writing chapter 6 of my next romance novel, temporarily titled Romance Collection #7, yesterday. Before I did though, I played around with a T-shirt design for the garden centre that appears in the novel. Here’s what I got.

I believe uniforms are important. They provide instant notification to whatever group the person is associated with. It’s why armies, hockey teams and companies use uniforms.

For the individual, feeling part of a team gives them confidence. They are not alone. It erases diversity and makes everyone the same. This sameness creates a common goal and empowers the individual to act for the good of everyone, not just the individual.

In military and sports, everyone wearing the same outfit gives the impression to the enemy and opposing team that there are many against them. They can’t target an individual for looking different.

In a retail setting, a uniform separates customers from store staff.

From my experience, a positive feeling is generated by ‘suiting up’. Putting on a uniform triggers something in my brain that tells me I’m ready for business. This might be a baseball jersey or a garden centre T-shirt.

Origin of Wednesday

Have you ever wondered where Wednesday came from? No, it wasn’t a hill, aka hump. When I was a kid, I called it Wind’s Day until I wanted to learn how to spell it, then it became Wed Nes Day.

Wednesday came from Old English Wōdnesdæg. This translates to Day of Odin. With Marvel’s blockbuster movies over the pass dozen years, most people know who Odin is – Thor’s father.

Wait you say, that’s a stretch: Wōdnesdæg = Odin? Odin, the ruler of the Norse gods’ realm, also went by Wōden. So Wōden’s Day is Wednesday.

Wōden is associated with wisdom, magic, victory and death. On that note, let’s put death aside and focus on making this Wōden’s Day magical, one in which we gather wisdom and are victorious over our problems.

Happy Wōden’s Day.

The Inner Spirit Listens: Eivør Pálsdóttir

There is something distinctly ancient about music. I feel it has been with humans from conception. Perhaps we learned it from the birds, or we always had an inner rhythm we expressed in various forms from singing, tapping a foot or beating a stick upon a rock.

My love of music runs deep. It has been part of my life since I was conceived. The only way I can explain why I enjoy certain music is that it touches a spirit deep within.

Several months ago, I stumbled upon a playlist on YouTube. After listening to it several times, I hunted down the singer of one of the songs. While it wasn’t in English, I felt a strong connection to it.

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Romance Collection #7

Over the holidays, I watched A Castle for Christmas, and it inspired a new romance novel. The working title is Romance Collection #7. However, this story doesn’t have a castle in it. At least I don’t think it does. It takes place in New Scotland, not Scotland. Also, it won’t take place a Christmastime. Actually, there are few similarities, but that doesn’t matter.

I’m on chapter three, racing towards chapter four. I’ve already introduced the two main characters and a few supporting cast members. Here’s the first, unedited chapter.

Romance Collection #7

Chapter 1

The large wooden sign attached to the front of the building over the front entrance desperately needed a new coat of paint. It read Walker’s Feed and Garden Store only when looking directly at it. Angled views made it appear as Wa ker’s Fee and arde tore. Grey siding did nothing to invoke charm or energy, two qualities required to enrich the garden and farm life. Remnants of the recent snowfall lingered near the doorway in dirty mounds, slowly melting in the mild temperatures of late March. An overcast sky dulled the setting further.

Introducing herself at a new feed store was the last thing Freya Dawson – No! Freya O’Clery wanted, but it was a must if she were to buy supplies for her chickens and garden locally. Driving an hour to her old shop was out of the question, nor did she want to be reminded of what had transpired there shortly before leaving the community. Releasing a defeated sigh, the gloom enveloped her thoughts. Leaving was difficult; so was arriving. The ideal time was in the transition, neither there nor here.

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Fruit Art in “A December Knight”

My mother always said, “Don’t play with your food.” I listened to her most of the time, but chose not to say the same thing to my kids. Perhaps because of this, they sometimes arranged their food in interesting patterns and made animals from them.

When I was a kid, no one created interesting figures from food, and they certainly didn’t create fantastic art with it. I remember first seeing fruits and vegetables transformed into art about 20 years ago.

When I thought of what Georgina in A December Knight wanted to do with her life, food art felt like the perfect profession for her. Transforming food into a work of art is not only cool, but I think as a teen in the late 1990s, I might have wanted to make a career out of it.

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Twas the Night Before Christmas

This is my 55th Christmas Eve. While I don’t remember all them, several stand out, including the Christmas Eve I flew home from Montreal.

A week before Christmas in the late 1980s, my brother and I went to Montreal, Quebec, to watch an NHL hockey game. My favourite team, the Philadelphia Flyers, was playing his favourite team, the Montreal Canadiens.

The days leading up to the game were spent touring the city, going on my first subway ride and shopping for gifts. I don’t remember who won the game, but meeting the players afterwards was extremely fun. These were the days of Ilkka Sinisalo, Peter Zezel, Ron Hextal and Dave Poulin. Oh yeah, and Patrick Roy and few other Canadiens, but that was the other team. Haha.

The days after the game were also spent visiting stores we’d never been in before, including one that was several storeys tall. I think one shop was on the seventh floor. Here in Nova Scotia, the best we have is Mic Mac Mall, which is only three storeys.

Running out of money and not having bought anything for Mom, I came across a pink and white pull-on shirt in that 7th-floor store. It was the right price and size, so I bought it. [Just to note, Mom wore the shirt for decades. It became quite faded from all the washing, but I swear she got 20 years out of that shirt that cost me about ten dollars.]

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Replace Vanilla with Rum

Every year around this time, I make carrot cake. It’s become a tradition. It’s a large cake, and I’m the only one in the house who likes it. I give about 1/4 of it away to someone else who loves it as much as I do, put 1/2 of it in the freezer to savour in January and leave the rest out to eat over the holidays.

I’ve shared my recipe for this cake here: Recipe: Carrot Cake.

This year, instead of using vanilla extract, I used rum. Coldstream Coconut Rum to be exact since that was what I had on hand. I was told a few years ago that alcohol, particularly rum, can be a substitute for vanilla, but I had never tried it. After reading a horrifying article about the future of vanilla extract, I’m looking for alternatives. Vanilla sticks are expensive, and rum is still needed to make homemade vanilla flavouring.

When substituting rum for vanilla, double the quantity. In other words, if the recipe calls for 1 teaspoon of vanilla, put in 2 teaspoons of rum.

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Evergreens for the Season

Our tree came into the house yesterday and today, I strung lights and garland on it. Tomorrow, I’ll decorate it completely. There were years when I’d do all this in one day, but I’ve come to enjoy breaking it up. Not because it’s a lot of work. I used to work at Christmasland at Lakeland Plant World Garden Centre, and there I learned to decorate a tree in 15 minutes.

But I’m no longer in a rush.

Years ago, when the kids were small, the tree came into the house, but it wasn’t lit or decorated until after they went to bed on Christmas Eve. On Christmas morning, with colourful lights shining brightly, the kids ran into the living room with sparkle in their eyes. It wasn’t only the few gifts beneath the tree that gave them joy but the whole transformation of the room while they slept.

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Happy Winter Solstice

Today we mark the longest night and shortest day of the year. Many around the world will have gazed upon the sun as it rose, quietly giving thanks for the return of light. Some had the good fortune to stand at significant locations, such as Stonehenge, to welcome the bright star. I watched the sunrise from my backyard though grey clouds obscured it, pausing during barn chores to reflect on the rebirth of the day.

Winter Solstice has been celebrated for centuries around the globe. How many centuries? No one knows. It goes back to as far as the stones are old.

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