Fun puffin facts.

Book Two, The Sorrow of Bees, is off to the editor, and I’d like to share some fascinating things I learned about bees.

Book Three in my eco-romantasy series is The Unbearable Melt. It’s in the hands of my beta readers, so I’m free from rounds of editing, for now.

Book one was rage, book two was sorrow. The emotional theme for this one is abandonment, coming through as parental abandonment, loss of love, loss of tribe (or pack), forgotten lands, and the slip of our connection to the Divine.

There’s a meme describing Canadians as the nice neighbors who live above a meth lab.

They aren’t feeling so friendly these days. Canadians are cancelling their trips to the US. Many are selling their second homes. From what I read, a lot of them no longer feel safe in the US, nor do they want to tangle with the border police.

I called Mom for Thanksgiving yesterday. Four times, she asked where I lived. I explained as though she’d only just asked, enthusiasm with each response. I told her it’s beautiful, and I have a garden, something she’s loved throughout life.

She always remembers my husband, and asks how he is. Sometimes more than once. She knows he loves bikes and he loves me. I believe that’s why she always inquires. She wants to make sure I’m still loved.

Every time we talk, she confirms that I’m happy. Even if my hair was on fire, I’d tell her I’m good, it’s all good.

I’m researching for Book Two, tentatively called The Sorrow of Bees, continuing the story of our feisty mermaid, Jelly, this time addressing pollinators and pesticides.

I had to share the small amount I’ve uncovered because it BLEW MY MIND.

Life, you dirty bird. Strong butts do life better.

I’ve had a personal trainer since January, and I meet with Val three times a week to get my butt kicked. He’s a Strongman who, in addition to building my body, is teaching me how to curse in Russian so I can swear at him in the gym without making too much of a scene.

Although I’m not saying it correctly, as illustrated by his smirk, something to the effect of “Yeah-butt” is F* this. He hears it a lot.

As you know, I’ve been beavering away on my first novel, The Mermaid’s Mark (now The Mermaid’s Wrath). I sent it off to the editor, full of promise, waiting on pins and needles for his response.

Would he love it?

Could I send it out to the world with minimal changes?

For two weeks, I vibrated with hope. Then I got his feedback.

Hedva Haykin, a doctoral student at the Israel Institute of Technology in Haifa, has made an astonishing discovery. How you think affects how you heal. Now, tell this to any holistic health practitioner, and they’ll say, “Yeah… duh,” but this is a breakthrough for allopathic medicine.

Did you reach a certain age and lose all interest in nooky? You aren’t the only one; roughly one in three women find their libido decreases from the mid-40s. Often, we only look at one culprit - hormones. But that’s not the only reason.

To recapture your libido, we’ll need a multi-pronged strategy.

I’m learning how to skate ski. It’s Nordic Skiing, but instead of classic skiing, where the skis are held parallel, with skate skiing, the skis are in a V shape. As a result, the motion is more side-to-side rather than out-front.

Do you remember the scene in Bambi when he hits the patch of ice and can’t stand up? Yeah, that’s me on skate skis.

Did you know that in 2018, 25% of all books and one of two mass-market paperbacks sold were romance novels? Reports state that the industry is worth about $1.8 billion annually.

That’s a lot of steamy writing, and it’s good for your overall health. Truth.

Why is romance so popular?

Nothing dramatic happened to make me fall off the wagon. There wasn’t a significant party, holiday, or event. There wasn’t any pressure. It was just a Tuesday night. And I decided to drink.

Mostly, I was curious.

Do you get freaked out when reminded of the dead, or do you embrace it with goose-bumping glee?

Dad’s been gone for twenty-seven years, and he still visits me. No, not Poltergeist hauntings, but little signs, coincidental things that make me think of him. They don’t come often, so I relish their random arrival. 

You’ve heard about leaky gut. It’s when the lining of your intestinal tract is damaged, and it’s pegged as a major cause of unexplained obesity and a long list of chronic inflammatory diseases.

Maybe you’ve worked on healing your gut for ages with no happy returns. You still have lousy skin, your stomach hurts, or you suffer from something much more severe. A study published a few days ago shows dishwasher detergents damage our intestines, specifically rinse aid.

Banning books is the antithesis of free speech. What is possibly so scary we have to gag the authors? This banned book list comes from a CBS news report, and I will place the titles into rough categories so we can understand what has twisted all the knickers into knots. 

I quit drinking booze on May 1st, 2021. I wrote a tongue-in-cheek piece called I Quit Drinking and My Life Went to Shit a few months later. Recently, my dedication to my sobriety was questioned by a friend. She wasn’t hounding me. She was just curious. It was kind of funny, though, because she seemed so hesitant to ask the question. Like she was either worried I was glugging back personal bottles of gin every night or she was concerned I’d be offended.

Life, when drinking, is like a beautiful, intact piñata. It looks so pretty and colorful, but it’s fragile. Quitting is the stick. If you pick up a quit stick, for whatever reason, you will whack the living bejesus out of your life. Mine was smashed to pieces when I stopped eight months ago.

Recently, several frustrated patients, all middle-aged women, have asked me what in the sweet hell is happening to their bodies. They’ve had flat or flat-ish tummies their entire lives, and suddenly their waistlines are growing exponentially without them changing their diet or exercise routines. What’s going on? Is there anything they can do?

This isn’t a piece to shame you and tell you that your changing body is unattractive and that you should “do something” about it. I researched because these lovely women are seriously puzzled, and I wanted to see what science had to say. Much of the research is on mice and men, sigh, but I did find a few that focus on us older women.

The Japanese have a name for “forest bathing” called Shinrinyoku. Here’s something spectacular. It was found that the immune system, specifically natural killer cell activity, was significantly increased while forest bathing. The NK (natural killer) cells that are activated can kill tumor cells by releasing anti-cancer proteins. And, even more exciting, the improved immunity lasted for more than seven days after the walk.