​Let's get this year going!

My energy has returned, post-cold. I was in a fog the first couple weeks of 2025. One day, there even was a thick fog blanketing all of the outdoors, matching my brain's interior malfunctioning. That has passed. One day I woke up, and it was like a reset button had been punched.

What's on the agenda? 

This being January in Colorado, lots more miserably cold weather. Deceitful days where the sun shines boldly, but the temperatures are arctic. Gardeners will persist in planning for a spring we're optimistic will return, as it does every year. We'll soon be perusing seed catalogs, visiting gardening centers, and preparing trays for seedlings.

Writing projects include a series my daughter and I are creating, with a hoped for release date in 2026. We've completed the YA, but need to think about how we want to pursue publication. I'm writing book 4 in the Rose Creek series, while waiting to hear the fate of book 3. The Body in the Cattails, book 1, is slated to be released in mass market paperback format by Harlequin this summer. I'm also trying to get back to short stories. Maybe shoot for writing two a year.

I don't know how my husband's imminent retirement will affect my schedule. He has a long to-do list he placed on hold in anticipation of quitting the day job. We've pulled up our Bucket List. Or maybe it's more appropriate to call it a No Regrets list, of things we want to do, and places we want to visit, while good health and finances still allow. Our kids and grandkids want to plan camping trips with us. While I love to write fiction, I might have to ration out my time more carefully later in 2025.

I plan to attend two writers' conferences this spring. Left Coast Crime is in Denver this year, so I have no excuse to skip it. And of course I'll be at the Pikes Peak Writers Conference. 

Sharing my completed book reads is a goal this year. Not necessarily as recommendations. I don't want to task myself with reviewing. Just to share what I've enjoyed reading. To keep myself going. I hope to stretch my reading tastes a bit. More history and biography. Some mainstream and literary crossovers. As well as cozy mysteries and my new interest, romantic suspense.

Keep walking and running. The accursed cold knocked me off my fitness schedule, and I need to get back into routine. I have a treadmill, so the aforementioned bad weather is no excuse.

At the same time, I want to pace myself. Take more moments to smell the flowers and notice the sunset. Time is precious. I want to be mindful about how I spend the minutes, hours, and days I'm given. 

How is your 2025 going? Have you experienced setbacks? I encourage you to take a moment to breathe. Clear your head. Hit your own reset button. Then dive back in with renewed energy. 

I can't imagine the angst experienced by the local beaver. After felling trees and damming a creek, causing mayhem in the midst of the city, the wildlife folks humanely relocated the animal to a safer environment.

As it was being hauled away, did it clutch its fists and wail about work left undone? There are a dozen trees along the urban walking path in the process of being gnawed.

One day they will fall. But the beaver is far away, in some mountain meadow, and will not enjoy the fruits of its labors.

The sight of these incomplete projects reminded me of the many things left undone in my life. I hoped to hit the ground running at the start of the New Year. Then a cold sidelined me. It was very frustrating to delay my projects. Or to work limited hours on them.

I have a backlog of writing projects, and I've only scratched the surface on a family history project. Then there is the spring garden to begin planning. Arts and crafts projects cluttering up the family room. Home improvement projects requiring finishing work. I'm afraid it sounds like whining, when I am truly grateful to have so many interests, and the resources to pursue them.

​I'm sure you have your own list with tasks both more mundane and more impactful. It could all become overwhelming, if we let it. I hope I don't end this year with the feeling that I frittered away my time on inconsequential activities. Busy work. 

Although it seems counterintuitive to the desire to complete a long to-do list, I plan to spend more time sitting quietly. Letting my mind clear. And practicing gratitude. Celebrating the accomplishments, big and small.

I rang in the New Year sober. (I quit consuming alcohol over a year ago.) Yet I didn't wake up feeling bright and cheerful. January second was even worse. I started my day feeling like I'd been run over by a truck.

My husband caught a bug during one of our holiday gatherings or shopping trips. I resisted for an extra day and a half, but it finally got me.

The good news is, we're almost over whatever it was. Plus, we both lost those holiday cookie and snacking pounds. Now if we can just keep them off. 

Do you know the saying for March, in like a lion, out like a lamb? Meaning the month starts wintry, but will end with spring weather? Maybe starting January with a cold means the rest of the month will be smooth sailing, health-wise.

I hope your year is starting out great. And if it isn't, may you overcome the early obstacles, and breeze through the next few months as you achieve your 2025 goals.

This was a tough year. Allow me a whining session before I move on.

​My husband and I did a partial remodel of our home. What began as my simple request to merely paint and re-carpet our bedroom morphed into gutting our bathroom, partially remodeling the other bathroom, painting and new flooring for the office, and painting and re-carpeting the guest bedroom.

That's good, right? Our 45 year old home was overdue for upgrades. Doing all this work, a good deal of it done by my husband, was stressful beyond my imagining. The house was turned upside down for months.

We ran out of money and energy before finishing two remaining rooms. The contrast is glaring. My husband is ready to begin gutting another room. I'm screaming inside my head.

All that pales in comparison to actual tragedy. My 89-year-old father passed in March. He was determined to make it to 100, but his body had other plans. In October we took his ashes, along with his wife's, and my mother's ashes (she passed in 2022), to South Dakota. As an amateur genealogist, I wanted a headstone to act as a physical notice of their existence. Plus, this felt like returning them home.

The trip to Sioux Falls, and then Willow Lake, was a whirlwind. High stress, but also a burden lifted from me and my siblings. A door closed with sad finality is so much better than the lingering feeling of a task remaining incomplete.

Then earlier this month, our oldest granddaughter totaled her car. Thank God for air bags. She came out of the wreck in better than expected condition. But it was a reminder of the frailty of life, and how things can change in an instant.

That's the big whine. Now for the good things. Lots of miles with my husband walking in a local park, meaning we have good health and mobility. Participating in the Pikes Peak Writers Conference in the spring, then the 24 Hours of Palmer Lake ultra-running event in the fall, with our older daughter. Welcoming our younger daughter's new puppy into the family, and proudly watching her navigate significant life changes with grace. Witnessing the accomplishments of our intelligent and beautiful granddaughters. The release of Rapid Fear, my most recent Annie's novel. Immersing myself in the wonderful world of true crime podcasts. Receiving a new e-reader with access to tons of great novels, and stocking up on physical Annie's books at sale prices. Backyard gardening, and summer mornings on the deck. Seeing my blue columbines finally flower. Tea at the Glen Eyrie Castle with friends Beth and Fred. The party celebrating our friend Joyce's retirement as she joins her husband Steve in the leisure life. Family dinners, celebrations, and recitals.

2025 will bring my husband's retirement from his career as a medical device quality engineer. We'll be starting, not so much a new chapter, as a whole new book. My 2025 goals? I have plenty of writing projects and genealogy research to continue. I don't have specific New Year's resolutions. More like striving for my own attitude adjustments. Letting the future tend to itself while I enjoy the present. 

Gratefulness. That's my key focus for 2025.

The Winter Solstice happened Saturday. It is officially winter. That might be cause for alarm for some folks, but for me, this signals lengthening days.

​Those of us with Seasonal Affective Disorder still have a struggle ahead of us. The sunrise is not earlier for a while, but the days are slowly growing longer. 

One way of coping with SAD is to get outdoors. Go for a walk. Exercise indoors if you have to, but try to get some direct sunshine, too.

Winter gives me more time to read. Encircle Publications is running a sale on their catalog of print books through December 31st.

"Looking for unique gifts for your family and friends? Or even a new read for yourself? Peruse our shelves at https://encirclepub.com/ and enjoy 20% Off your print book order when you enter “20Encircle2024” at checkout!"

My Rose Creek mystery novels The Body in the Cattails and The Body in the Cornfield are available, as well as my Rock Shop Mystery series, and the standalone Survive Or Die.

We're fast approaching the winter solstice. Saturday, December 21st, will be the shortest day of the year. I'm synched with the sun, as though my farmer ancestry is in control of my mind and body. You can't plow those fields by candlelight!

When the days are less than 9 1/2 hours long, my world implodes. As daylight shrinks, so does my life. My brain believes the sun is slowly disappearing. Forever, probably. Leaving us in perpetual darkness and cold. We'll all surely die.

The past couple weeks, I'm waking up without that signal of sun glowing through the curtains. Maybe that part of my ancestry hailing from Norway is awakening. The days are dark and the nights are long. It's time to go a-viking!

I understand on a rational level that longer days will soon return. Until then, I'll struggle to stay upbeat and busy as I fight to slay the dragon of SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Am I the only one? Or do you have the urge to hibernate, or perhaps go a-viking, when the days are short and the nights long? What are your coping mechanisms?

One of mine is to write. I have several fiction projects going that take my mind off the dragon outside my door.

When I first began my writing journey, I thought people wrote from where they were at - meaning, a thriller author lived an exciting life, and a romance author enjoyed the bliss of perfect relationships. I'm not sure what I thought about science fiction and horror authors.

Then I heard a speaker at a writers conference several years ago. The bestselling romance author gave an inspirational talk about how the tragedies and hardships in her life propelled her to continue writing. She was not writing from where she was at, but from where she wanted to be.

As a cozy mystery author and reader, I crave happy endings. That doesn't mean my life is rainbows and unicorns. (I touched on my family history in an article on Donis Casey's blog last month.) It means that I've found escape from the harsh realities of life in fiction that provides solutions to character problems.

The people in these stories have reliably happy endings. Well, the protagonist anyway. The bad guys and girls receive their comeuppance with astonishing speed, unlike real life.

What I'm realizing is that happy endings come in moments. It's not a permanent condition. Seize the victories, the peaceful hours, the harmonious family gatherings. Live in them, not looking to the past or anticipating (or dreading) the future.

Like the wild turkeys in the photo. Be a turkey.

I posted a two part article about my experience hiring a private investigator on the Type M for Murder blog:
Part One - What It's Like to Hire a PI
Part Two - I Hired a PI - conclusion

These wild turkeys are thankful they live in a safe neighborhood. We saw them during a recent drive through the Garden of the Gods park.

I'm thankful for a roof over my head, food on the table, and our wonderful daughters, son-in-law, and granddaughters. 

I'm grateful I've been able to pursue my dream of writing fiction. The publishing landscape feels like it becomes more difficult every year. At the same time, new opportunities for getting fiction to readers pop up. Just Keep Writing.

I'm thankful for writing groups where I feel I'm amongst my people. Pikes Peak Writers, the blog Type M for Murder, and Rocky Mountain Mystery Writers of America.

I'm thankful my husband and I continue to enjoy good heath, now that we're officially seniors. I love our walks and runs outdoors through the changing seasons. I'm thankful we have reconnected with our faith community.

Every day isn't perfect. Life has its trials and tribulations, aches and pains, highs and lows. But overall, there is much to be thankful for.

Combing through the family archives my siblings entrusted me with, I've found some nuggets. I'm sharing snippets with my middle granddaughter. She has an interest in history, and thinks our family's past is pretty crazy. She's not wrong.

I sent her one last week from my great-grandfather's 1931 journal. 

"Kenneth drove down and Pirate drove back. They are both good drivers. Kenneth is 14 Pirate 12."

These kids drove a car from Willow Lake, South Dakota, to Huron - a distance of almost 50 miles. Apparently this was legal in 1931. Granted, their uncle was in the car. But 12? I still haven't figured out who "Pirate" is, or how he fits into the family tree. 

My granddaughter's response to this blast from the past? "Dude you just know if someone tried that today CPS would step in so quick."

Child Protective Services. I doubt they had that agency in rural areas over 90 years ago. I was amused by my granddaughter's response. As a college student, she's not in a rush to jump into adult roles, although she did get her driver's license as soon as legally possible. 

It was a different world in 1931. The automobile was coming into common use, right alongside the horse and buggy in remote rural areas of the Great Plains. Right on the cusp of huge changes. The Good Old Days: better in some ways. Far worse in others. 

Wait until I share with her some of the child labor violations occurring on 1930s farms...