Musings

As we wrap up the editorial work on my next novel, Sour Notes, it’s time I sit down at my desk and answer the question, “What’s next?”

Boudleaux Bryant’s rock ballad performed by Nazareth declares Love Hurts. I witnessed a young man experience the pain just last week.

There are rules and there are rewards, but when a canine negotiator engages, revisions to the agreement will follow.

I struggled for an entertaining topic this week until dark thoughts entered my mind. A tree took out the power lines to our neighborhood.

How do you dress for a day in the Western North Carolina Mountains? Just answer what weather when? Good luck with that.

One of my dogs had an accident which resulted in a canine kitchen flood. No, no, not the way you just imagined. He’s more creative than that.

A British author asked if a common phrase would be misunderstood by Americans. The responses confirmed a language barrier.

As I fight to meet deadlines this week, my mind couldn’t help but turn to young Ian and his little, tiny book report that’s due soon.

Our quiet evening of dinner preparation took an unexpected turn when a kitchen mishap created an unexpected part of our meal.

While we were enjoying a great meal and bottle of wine in a special restaurant, we witnessed someone else having a dinner date disaster.

Growing up in the Southern part of the USA, a snow day meant the best thing possible—a day off from school.

A memory of a cross-country trek through small towns and eating at the diners and greasy spoons that served the best food and hospitality.