Not the famed Whitehorse Sewing Circle

I'm hanging out with a different crowd today. Usually I'd be with my characters in Whitehorse.
But in a few minutes I'll be going back to my 3-day quilting weekend at the local high school.

I have been looking forward to this for some time. Three full days of playing with fabric, visiting with talented, creative women who don't write and finishing up my first quilting project and starting another.

I'm sure this love of fabric has something to do with the same gene that made me a writer. Fabric is like the blank page. Anything is possible. It sparks my imagination. What should I make? How should I mix the different colors and patterns?

While I can't see myself actually making a "quilt", I love the process. My first project was a tablerunner. Today I "stipple" it.

Freehand stippling (that's the stitched pattern that holds the "sandwiched" quilt top, batting and bottom together) looks a lot more fun and easy than it is. I practiced yesterday and it was slightly embarrassing. Also a little scary. But I'm going back this morning to actually do the tablerunner. However it turns out, it's all my work, my first quilting project so I'm going with it.

Just think. Not that long ago I didn't even know what stippling was.

The one interesting thing I have noticed is that this weekend is nothing like the Whitehorse Sewing Circle in my books. The group hasn't suggested doing anything illegal! At least not yet.

First day on the water

Yesterday we put the boat into the lake for the first time this year in Montana.

I had forgotten how much I love being on water. I love the feel of the wind in my face, the smell of the lake, the sound of the motor.

I grew up in a boat. My father loved lakes as much as I do. I remember falling asleep in the bottom of an old aluminum boat, lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking and the sound of water lapping at the side of the boat. I was named for a boat builder who was a friend of my grandfather's.

Not everyone is a fan of water. I'm not a great swimmer and I hate being even on top of really deep water. Silly, I know, because it would only take 5 feet and 7 inches of water for me to drown. I also don't like really dark water. We've had our boat in some canyon gorges where the water is hundreds of feet deep and so dark it spooks me. I always wonder what might be living down there that we don't know about.

In my teens I lived on Hebgen Lake by West Yellowstone. It was there that I learned to swim and waterski and spent hours on the water. For many years I didn't live near a lake, which required driving many miles to spend every day off on a lake. When I didn't have a boat, I took up sailboarding. Anything to speed across the water.

Now I feel blessed that I live close to a lake and have no reason not to spend every morning on the water all summer long. Fortunately, I'm married to a man who understands my need for boats and days spent skimming across the surface of a crystal clear lake or rocking gently to the waves and listening to the birds splashing in the shallows.

I do my best daydreaming on the water. It's where many of my books are born.

The excitement of writing a new book

I've started the first book in: Whitehorse, Montana: The Winchesters. The six books come out April, May, June and Oct., Nov., Dec. next year.

I know. You're saying "A mini-series inside a series?"

Yep. That's what the current series is: Whitehorse, Montana: The Corbetts.
The only difference is: the Corbett family was normal. Well, as normal as any of my characters can be.

(Note: Book one, SHOTGUN BRIDE, and book two, HUNTING DOWN THE HORSEMAN, in The Corbetts, I should mention have both made Walden-Borders top ten for series bestsellers! I am thankful to say. The series continues: June, BIG SKY DYNASTY, one of my favorites; Oct., SMOKIN' SIX-SHOOTER and Nov., ONE HOT FORTY-FIVE.)

While all of that is fun and I'm tremendously grateful, I've moved on. I'm now having fun with the Winchesters and I've only met a couple of them so far.

There is nothing more exciting for me that meeting new characters. The first book of a mini-series is especially fun -- and difficult -- because it sets the tone, introduces some key characters and is the foundation on which the next five books will rest.

No easy job, true. But there is something about that blank canvas that makes me think anything is possible. At this point, I'm free to do anything I want. I haven't painted myself into a corner, heck I don't even have corners yet.

There's another reason this future mini-series excites me. These could be the weirdest, most interesting people I've ever written about. They seem real to me because of their wonderful quirky flaws. They are SO human. I feel like I know them. Or at least have known people enough like them to make me anxious to get back to them each day.

I haven't forgotten about the Corbetts. I keep an eye on how they are doing and I hear from readers who seem to like them. They're the kind of family we'd all would like to be a part of.

But then there are the Winchesters. :) You can't believe the skeletons -- in their closets and buried not far from the ranch house where matriarch Pepper Winchester has been a recluse the last twenty-seven years.

Just when you think it's spring

I woke up to white this morning. Somehow I'd been able to avoid that since our return from Florida on March 31.

Every morning I would wake up and look out, thankful that the snow missed us. Once May rolled in with beautiful blue sunny skies, I thought I was safe.

But this morning I felt the cold blowing in my partially open window (it's open all year even in the winter. I like fresh air.) I knew.

You can feel when it has snowed. There is a blanketed quiet. You sense something has changed. And not necessarily for the better. :)

It's s shock this time of year and a reminder of where we live.

Unfortunately, it was been so nice that we put out the flowers in the planters in front of the house and my husband planted some tomatoes and peppers. They were all covered in snow this morning.

But my husband says he believes everything will survive. He is such an optimist. But even plants have to be tough living this far north.

You bought a what?

This doesn't happen often but recently I saw something on television and knew at once that I had to have one. That's how I came to order myself a Trikke.

This is not to be confused with a three-wheel bike. There are no pedals -- just handlebars (with brakes though I can't imagine I'll ever need them) and from that are two arms that V out with a place to put each foot. as you can see in the photo. (Note I am going very fast here. :) It just doesn't show in the photo.)

You ask what makes this device move? Good question.

According to the video that came in the box, it takes most people an hour to learn how to ride it.

I watched the video and thought: no problem. I have skied (both water and snow and telemarked) and I snowboard. I had no doubt that I would pick it up in no time.

Amazingly, the first day I got on it out in the middle of street in front of our house, I couldn't get it to move. I recalled something about leaning, rocking it back and forth (it really lays over to the sides) and shifting my weight. The directions said it was much like rollerblading.

Uh huh.

My husband, who was more than a little skeptical when he put the Trikke together for me, just shook his head as I brought the crazy thing into the house after failing to go anywhere on it unless I pushed it.

I waited that night until he went to bed, then I moved the furniture in the living room, read the directions once more and began to practice. Every once in a while, I would feel it (what the directions called the "sweet spot") and I'd go scooting across the living room to crash into the fireplace. It was very exciting.

I practiced in the living room in secret -- until my husband caught me and predicted all I was going to do was fall through the television.

Finally the weather warmed enough that I could try the Trikke outside. (The directions said not to try to ride it if the street was wet.)

I took what I'd learned riding in the living room and applied it outside in the street -- giving myself a small advantage by starting on a slight downhill -- and it worked!

One of the reasons I bought it was because it looked like fun. Also because it said it was great exercise. Both have proved true. Riding the thing is WORK, even downhill. But it is also fun and after sitting at the computer all the time, I definitely need the workout.

I still need practice -- especially uphill. But I'm not giving up. If you want to check out what a person can really do on one of these, go to http://www.trikke.com/ (No, I don't get a kickback. :)

Meanwhile, I will be out riding when I'm not writing. I'm determined to get good at this and there is nothing I like better than a challenge. I have a long way to go before I'm doing tricks but hey, what else do I have to do? And, of course, I have to prove to my husband just how wrong he was. :)