Weird Facts About Cats

Thanks to all who offered to share their kitty behaviors. I found it interesting to hear that older cats have different mannerisms than younger cats. My sister-in-law told me that she had an “attack” cat who could detect strangers. I never knew that!

I am wrestling with my manuscript at the moment. Same old pattern.

Me: write, write, write. Huh. That sounds stupid. delete, delete, delete

And so on. Every once in a while, I get a good scene on the first shot, but more often than not it’s the above process. I cut an entire chapter this month. I keep reminding myself that I need to make FORWARD progress, not backwards.

But anyway, I will be writing kitty scenes fairly shortly. I’d love to hear weird facts about your cat! What’s one bizarre behavior he/she has? Or more than one, if you feel so inclined.

Also, if you posted a comment any time this week, you’re eligible for my February contest! I’m giving away three fabulous romances, and all you have to do is post a comment.

I’m gearing up for March, and once I nail down this next turning point, I need to really step up the page progress.

10 Weird Facts About Me

I have been buried under this past week with trying to jump start my book. I found a serious error in the middle (Namely, the hero was being entirely too nice to the heroine and that’s the kiss of death to a romance.). Ironic, isn’t it? But if you let up on the tension for even a second, your book starts to go south. I found the problem, deleted 12 pages (ow, ow, OW that HURTS), and now I’m back on track. I’ll need to step up my page progress for the next few days and then I should be right where I need to be.

So did anyone watch the Oscars? I was glad to see that Jennifer Hudson won. It’s a great story–hope she can handle the fame. So many people like Britney Spears become famous too quickly and can’t seem to deal with the pressure.

Jan Kenny tagged me with this one, so I’ll try to come up with some new ones:

1. I hate seafood.
2. I have composed piano music.
3. I was once a freestyle ice skater.
4. My favorite bulbs are hyacinths. LOVE the scent of them in the springtime.
5. I listen to movie soundtracks while I write. My favorites include “Braveheart,” “Last of the Mohicans,” “Batman Returns” and “Gladiator.” Every book I write has a song associated with it.
6. I have read Clan of the Cave Bear at least fifteen times.
7. I can play “A Bicycle Built for Two” on the ukelele. Quite poorly, I might add.
8. Both of my children were born two weeks shy of their due date.
9. My favorite drink is Bulmer’s Cider (ahh, Ireland)
10. I’m allergic to cats.

And speaking of cats, does anyone have a cat as a pet? I need to write a scene with a cat and I’d like to get a sense of feline attitude. I haven’t been around them much, due to reason #10, and I’d love to hear cat stories.

How I Spent My Weekend

Before my husband and I got married, we had to attend Pre-Canaa, which is basically a marriage counseling retreat. Ours was fairly straightforward. We were getting married at Notre Dame, so we decided to have our counseling there over a weekend, even though we live in Virginia. It also gave us a chance to finish up some last-minute details like cake, flowers, etc. I liked the way they would have married couples talk about how things change over time–whether you’ve been married 1 year, 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, etc. Some of the topics they included were money issues, children, beliefs, etc. But there’s one topic they left out. Something that challenges your marriage almost as much as what you’re having for dinner (and food is a big marriage issue). Home improvements.

I’m very proud of my husband’s engineering skills. The man can build almost anything. If he can’t, he’ll figure it out. He has a way of visualizing the finished product and making it happen.

As for me, when God passed out spatial reasoning, let’s just say I got left out. I can’t visualize diddly-squat. If you send me into a room and give me a project, unless it involves something basic like painting, I’m more inclined to stare at it with a confused expression. While some people thrive on taking their homes apart and giving them face lifts, the idea of it scares me.

So if you put a guy who can fix anything paired up with a girl who has no clue what he’s talking about, it equates to trouble on many levels. Bless my husband, he’s a patient soul. But after 8 years of marriage, he’s learning that I have to have it spelled out for me. Step by step, that’s the way to go. And don’t give me instructions like, “Hand me the channel-lock pliers.” Just say, “Give me the blue-handled tool that’s hanging next to the hammer.”

This past weekend, we decided to rip up the vinyl flooring in our children’s bathroom and do ceramic tile. I was looking forward to it like a root canal. My husband asked, “Aren’t you excited? Isn’t this going to be fun?” Uh, no, honey. Because if anything goes wrong, it’ll be my fault. If the room spontaneously combusts and the house burns down, it will somehow come back to me.

I’m almost afraid to say this (because the bathroom could STILL spontaneously combust), but it actually went well. Aside from none of the home improvement stores having white tile (what’s up with that? Yes, I’d like to tile my bathroom in slate stone, thanks.), there were no major catastrophes. I’ve never tiled before, but we did use one technique that helped immensely. We laid out the entire first half of the floor and made all the cuts first. Then we took a digital picture, printed it out, and taped the picture to the bathtub. After we took up all the tile and laid the thinset mortar, I actually had a pattern to follow. Much easier!

Have you done any home improvements lately? Are you an engineer-minded person like my husband or clueless like me?

Researching Sheep

I’m at the point of my new book where I’m having to do a bit of unusual research. I love learning new things about a time period, and there are two items I’m researching. One is sheep shearing in the 12th century. It became clear to me, when I visited Ireland this past summer, that sheep and wool are a huge part of the Irish industry. They were also part of the early monetary system. Instead of using money, they would often pay people in terms of cattle, sheep, or even horses.

I’m looking for information on what tools would be used in the 12th century for shearing or whether they used tools at all? If any of you own sheep, I’d love to know their personality when it comes to shearing. Do they stand by and let you take care of business? Or will they fight you off?

The other research topic is the festival of Lughnasa. I’m really looking forward to researching this summer festivity, because it gives me the chance to pass along some trivia to readers and it makes the book more interesting. In The Warrior’s Touch, I used the feast of Bealtaine. It’s more commonly known as Beltane or May Day. The Irish used to make several fires along hilltops, to honor the god Belenus. These were known as Bel fires. They would drive the cattle between the Bel fires to bless them and pray for a fruitful harvest. And let’s just say that the humans weren’t opposed to celebrating their own fertility rites.

Women used to wash their faces in the morning dew in the hopes that it would make them beautiful. Men would bring hawthorn branches to decorate the thatched huts of the women they admired. And a May Queen and King were chosen to play the part of Danu the goddess and Belenus, her lover.

Can’t you just imagine the story possibilities?

Sugar, sugar everywhere

The one downside to holidays is all the candy hanging around the house. There may come a day when I let my kids just gorge themselves silly on the stuff, in order to get it out of the house! For now, we ration it out a few pieces a day. Even so, my daughter has a low tolerance and even one lollipop makes her behave like I’ve given her an amphetamine.

Still, I think there is a candy conspiracy going around. No sooner do you get rid of Halloween candy, but you end up with Christmas stocking candy. Then Valentine’s candy. Then Easter candy, and so on until you suddenly realize there’s a reason why you haven’t been able to shed those last five pounds. Oops.

For me, Easter is the worst. Those of you who’ve kept up with my blog know that I have an unhealthy obsession with Cadbury’s Creme Eggs. Oh sweet heaven. European chocolate is so much better than American. It’s to die for. And then there are the jelly beans. I’ve loved jelly beans since I was a kid. And God help me, those forms of torture are already in the stores. I’m trying to show restraint.

Ash Wednesday is coming up soon, and many people give up something, usually a bad habit, during that season. My own personal sacrifices need a little work, I think. Last year I gave up exercise. Another year, I gave up Diet sodas in favor of the real thing.

This year, I haven’t decided what to give up. Cleaning the house comes to mind.

How about you? If you could give up a bad habit, what would it be?

Valentines Day!

Happy Valentines Day! Here’s hoping you enjoy a fun day. If you don’t have a significant other, I recommend curling up with a box of amazing chocolates.

If you love Harlequin and Silhouette books, I have some $1.00 off coupons to share! They arrived in my mailbox yesterday and I’d love to pass them on to readers. Just send me an e-mail with your name and address and I’d be happy to send them your way. I’d rather they go to people who love reading romance. I have $20.00 worth of coupons, so the first 20 folks who e-mail me will receive them. Just go to your local bookstore and hand them the coupon with your book and it’s redeemable at the register (I don’t think they work online).

Last night I was a Good Mommy ™ and baked cupcakes for my daughter’s Valentines party. I also made a cutesy shoe box with paper hearts and addressed all her valentines to her classmates while my son practiced his handwriting and addressed his own (and thank goodness for that!). Then a horrible thought occurred to me. For the past six months, my daughter has been in the Stegosaurus daycare classroom. Last week she started transitioning into the next room up, the 3-year-old class of Triceratops. This means she spent a few hours in the room each day until Friday when she spent the whole day. She is now full-time in the 3-year-old class, as of yesterday.

I had to get a printout of the class list from the main office in order to address her valentines. But I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if she wasn’t penciled onto the Valentine list passed out to the parents last week? WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T GET ANY VALENTINES?? Can you imagine?

It reminds me of those times in high school and middle school when they passed out secret valentine-grams to people. Don’t you remember how the popular girls would get a bazillion of them, and the rest of us would pretend like it didn’t matter? But I love my sixth grade boys. They send them to themselves. Smart men.

So back to the important Valentines stuff–topic. What’s your favorite kind of chocolate to receive? For me, it’s the Russell Stover Caramel assortment (BIG HINT TO HUSBAND HERE). Mmmm….:banana:

P.S.–check back later and I’ll let you know how the 3-year-old valentine trauma plays out.

Update: The teacher didn’t realize she was left off the list. On the bright side, many parents didn’t write To: on the valentine and she got some of those. Also, a few parents who are friends of mine knew she had been moved up and added her in. Catastrophe averted!

And guess what my husband got me? A new lemon tree.

The Watch Curse

I have a strange little curse. I lose watches. All the time. I believe I’m on my fifth watch in two years. I lost two watches last year within a six month period. Trust me when I say I will never be buying a Rolex.

My husband can’t understand why I lose so many of them. I’m convinced the children took the last two and threw them in the garbage, since the last place I had them was on their bathroom sink while washing their hair. It’s a subtle form of revenge really. When I don’t allow them to eat doughnuts and candy for dinner, the watch goes missing.

The most recent addition to the Watch Disaster Collection was a Target bargain special. $19.95 for a fake gold watch complete with cubic zirconia bling bling. It was actually rather pretty. I first lost it in the YMCA when it fell off my wrist in the parking lot (stupid clasp) and they thought it was real gold and diamonds. When I called about it, they had it in their safe.

Yesterday, I was taking out the trash and it fell off again. I didn’t notice it until I was at work. After I got home, my husband showed me the watch, which he’d found at the bottom of our driveway. The face was cracked and it looked like I’d run over it (I probably did). He just shook his head at me. Amazingly, it still works. I will likely go back to Target and buy an identical replacement.

What about you? Is there anything you always seem to lose or destroy?

You do more juggling than you’d think…

One thing I’ve found interesting about how my writing life has changed since I sold my first book, is the amount of juggling you have to do. I’ll be in the midst of working on one book when copyedits for another will come in. It’s an interesting experience ripping your head out of one story and trying to recall what exactly you were trying to do in book #1. Then you start to panic because book #3 isn’t written yet and it’s due in MAY, but revisions on book #2 come in and you have to stop writing to fix those. Then back to book #3. I just know copyedits will be coming in the next month. It’s a constant state of juggling. But at the same time, I’m so grateful to be able to do this. Having someone pay you to write is like having someone pay you to eat chocolate brownie sundaes. It’s every bit as good as you thought it would be.

The downside is, there are times when blogging takes a hit. I am reading, but just not getting to respond as often as I’d like.

Today, I was almost busted by the YMCA. Yes, I tried to register my 2-year-old daughter (who will be turning 3 in a few weeks) for a 3-year-old beginner swimming class. The child thinks she can walk on water. Last week she was cannonballing over the side of the pool (with a float belt, I might add, lest you think I am that insane). She truly believes she can swim and LOVES it. So I thought, hey, she’s almost 3. She’s having her birthday within the swim session. They’ll never check.

Um, they checked. I got the big hairy eyeball from the coordinator and had to do some hasty ’splaining. Yes, she’s toilet trained. Yes, she’s turning 3. At last, I convinced her to give it a shot. When I got home and told my daughter she was going to start swimming lessons in a few weeks, she had the biggest smile on her face. Then she yelled to her brother, “I’m going to go to swimming! Isn’t that SO COOL?” (yes, from the mouth of a two-year-old). And she proceeded to bounce with joy on my bed.

So maybe they caught me. But it was worth it to see the smile on her face.

Missing in Action

Sorry about being AWOL the past few days. I’m trying to wrestle my new proposal to the ground. I have the editor’s revisions and I made some goofups on the first draft. My nights have been spent trying to convince a hunky Irish warrior to do what I tell him to. My life is so hard sometimes.

So what are you doing for Valentine’s Day? My husband and I are going out to our favorite swanky restaurant, The Regency Room in Colonial Williamsburg. LOVE IT. They even have sommaliers. Now you know you’ve moved a step above Taco Bell when there’s a person dedicated to wine. A good thing, that. We’re celebrating my second sale and also having a night out without the kids. Can’t wait!

Surviving Birthday Parties and Solving Tantrums

The birthday party went well. I ended up scheduling a gymnastics party, due to weather. The thought of 8 children running around inside the house made me a bit wary. Since my son has a February birthday, we couldn’t go outside. Also, because the age range was from age 2 to age 5 (his sister is 2), I needed something that everyone would enjoy. It worked out well. They were exhausted afterwards, and they fell into bed while my husband and I watched the Superbowl.

The new book is starting to take shape. Honestly, until I get to the midpoint of the book, it’s this amorphous mass of semi-connected chapters. But it’s getting there.

I never told you how I solved the Screaming Tantrum Dilemma. Remember how my daughter threw a fit every day at daycare when I dropped her off? Yes, almost two weeks of throwing herself on the ground and crying (after she announced to me her intentions to throw aforementioned fit). You know what fixed it? A sticker. A My Little Pony sticker, left over from the doctor’s office. On the second to last day, I showed off the sticker.

“Wouldn’t you love to wear this sticker?” I asked.
Her little head bobs up and down.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Oh, yes, Mommy.” She smiles, her eyes wide.
“I’ll give it to Ms. Lorna and after I leave, she’ll let you wear it. But only if you don’t cry or throw a fit.”
“Okay, Mommy.”

So I handed the sticker over to Ms. Lorna, and Miss Skippy trotted over with nary a tear to be shed. She even smiled when I left. Little stinker. 8 FULL DAYS OF CRYING AND SCREAMING, AND SHE STOPPED FOR A FREAKING STICKER?

Why didn’t I try it sooner?