#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller
Sundays

I don’t normally blog on Sundays, as most of you know. Today, though, I received an email from a reader named Shirley. She’s thirty, and her husband, Jim, is dying of brain cancer. I was struck to the heart by her bravery–she said she likes to read my blog because it reminds her that life goes on, and the joy lies in ordinary blessings. What courage!

This blog is for you, Shirley, and your Jim. You inspire me, and I wanted to share that inspiration with the rest of our group.

We’re walking with you, sweetheart. Every last one of us.

May God hold you both in the warm palm of His mighty hand.

Still MORE snow

I guess the charm of all this snow could wear off–sometime. :)

For now, it seems magical, maybe because I’m one of those lucky people who don’t commute by automobile. Just a hike to the barn, that’s all I need to worry about at present.

I was keying in some changes to my October paperback romance, “The Rustler”, this morning, and the fuel guy had the unmitigated gall–at least in Sadie’s opinion it was gall–to pull in and refill the tank. She barked and barked, in her snug bed in front of the living room fireplace, alerting the entire household to imminent propane delivery. Silly dog. Unlike Yorkie Bernice, who will fling her small body at any intrusion, yapping her fool head off, Sadie prefers to simply sit tight and bay.

Anybody who says animals don’t have distinct personalities isn’t spending much time with furry folks. :)

Buck, my beloved old horse, is a staid kind of guy, laid back unless trouble comes.

Coco is the leader of the band, and she makes sure every other horse in the stable knows it.

Skye, aka the spotted horse, is beautiful–and vain about her looks.

April is shy and sweet.

Traveler, though gentle, is also stubborn.

ChaCha, my long-haired kitty, is regal and quite officious, willing to show affection only when there are no human witnesses around. :)

And Jitterbug, her sister, is a blabbermouth. Talk, talk and more talk, that’s her M.O.

All these critters have one thing in common, beyond four legs apiece and fur.

They are deeply, permanently and completely–LOVED.

Cattle drives rarely went more than ten or twelve miles a day, as the cattle had to be given time to rest and graze. A drive from Texas to Montana could take up to five months.

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