#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller


Hurray, Hurray…

It’s a writing day!

I LOVE unobstructed writing days, and they seem to be harder and harder to come by lately.

Mary Ann, the Trail Boss, is still under the weather with a very bad cold. Yesterday, I asked Chris, aka the Nazi Dog Nanny, who is filling in, to throw together the ingredients of a homemade chicken soup for her, while I was busy in Blue River, with Austin McKettrick and his lady (soon to be) Paige Remington. He did a fine job–and made chilli for MY supper, too–and we took the soup and a few other goodies (pistacios, chocolate covered cherries, and some Hostess cupcakes, her perennial favorites) next door to the invalid. You’re probably thinking if she eats those things in combination, no wonder she’s sick, but it’s a cold. Really.

I wasn’t feeling all that great myself this weekend, and most of the writing I did was in my head. I made one foray to JoAnn’s and to the grocery store, but that was my excitement. The big whoopee was felting a length of yarn I’d knitted–it came out great. (And since, unlike my good friend Debbie Macomber, I am a lousy knitter, felting is just my cup of tea. It doesn’t matter, in the end, if you drop a stitch or two.) It quite literally all comes out in the wash.

For those of you who don’t know from felting, it’s what happens when you wash wool in hot water. The fibers blend into–voila!–FELT. I love it. It can then be cut or sewn or whatever, and attached to other things, like purses or jackets. I am, apparently, a woman of simple pleasures.

Speaking of pleasures–I’m due in Blue River pretty soon, so I’ll wrap this up for now.

See you tomorrow.

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Texas was the most active gunfighting state, with some 160 shoot-outs from the 1850’s through the 1890’s.

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