My oldest daughter was writing an essay recently in which she had to discuss the first book she ever read.  She couldn’t remember which book it was and of course thought I would.

The problem was, there were so many.  I couldn’t remember which she’d read first.  There was Are You My Mother?  You are not my mother, you are a Snort.  (my favorite line).  There was Sam and the Firefly.  Hop on Pop.  So many books we read together.

There was one I couldn’t recall, but it nagged at me.  The first time I read it, it moved me to tears, but I couldn’t remember the words.  I remembered a cadence, a rhythm of words and part of a verse:  “As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” 

My daughter went off blissfully and wrote her essay about the first book she remembered choosing herself, while I compulsed over that story I couldn’t remember and the little half-verse that was haunting my mind.  So I Googled what I could remember and readily found the book.  I also found I wasn’t the only person moved to tears by this book.

It’s called Love You Forever.  If you have any small children to read to, read them this book.  Even if you don’t have kids to read to, read this book for yourself.  It’s a beautiful tale of living and loving.  If you’re easily moved, have a box of tissues on hand.

I started thinking about the books that I loved as a kid.  I couldn’t remember my first book either - there were just too many. My all-time, hands-down favorite is Little Women.  (At eight years old, the 1922 edition with full color plates was my greatest treasure.)  Jo March was my role model.  I wished for the comraderie of the four sisters and their friendship with Laurie next door.  I devoured Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mysteries - for the sleuthing and once again for the friendships.  Sue Barton, Student Nurse made me (for a long time) focus on nursing as my future career.   The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet tickled my fantasy of sci-fi space travel - and once again, I loved the friendship between the kids and Mr. Bass.  High Heels for Jennifer - Jennifer and her best friend Sara Beth loved horses (High Heels was a horse) and ballet dancing and as I read, I dreamed I was Jennifer. 

There’s a pattern here, I think :-)  As a child I loved the books where friendship was the main theme.  As I grew older, the friendships were still key, but I added a love of romance.  Then I added serial killers and cops.  Okay, it can’t all be fuzzy rainbows!

So many books.  I can’t remember my first.  I just remember loving them all as they sucked me into a different world every time I reverently turned back the cover, usually under the covers with my flashlight.

Do you remember your first book?  Which books did you love as a kid?  Which kid books do you love as an adult?  What is your favorite book of all time?

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I just got back from Ireland which was absolutely wonderful. I love going over there (there being anywhere over the Atlantic). It always helps to fill my historical romance well. We hike through green hills, tour big stately mansions, and pick up obscure history and novels that you probably couldn’t find here. But one of my favorite things about it is the men in tights.

Not real men in tights, but those on the walls of every hotel, stately mansion, or castle you enter. Men on horseback, men standing over a fallen stag, men posing in full courtly gear.  It reminds me of the men I love to write about and see in films and read about. There is something about a man in a coat and waistcoat and pristine neckcloth…and those tight trousers that just makes me swoon.

Can’t you imagine these guys riding to your rescue or coming to court you, or better yet, watching you play the piano?
What about you? Does a man in tights make your heart sing? Or do you prefer the pirate type–long haired, dirty, but not dirty enough to turn you off, and a little rough around the edges?

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Yes, my lovelies! It’s For Refreshment Only Sunday!

And what hunky he-man have your favorite goddess authors chosen to light up your dreary weekend and make your little goddess heart pitter-pat with renewed energy and happiness?

Behold, beloveds! It’s C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N B-A-L-E!

As little Oliver said as he held up his empty bowl . . . “MORE, PLEASE!”

And one last shot . . . our sexy Christian Bale, a bit battered and damp with sweat, but still looking oh-so-heavenly from the movie 3:10 to Yuma which is coming out this weekend!

AHHHHH! Another successful and refreshing FROS brought to you straight from Mt. Olympus to add a bit of ZEST to your lives!

Enjoy!

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I know several people who collect things—teapots, artwork, quilts, dirty laundry (oh, wait, that’s me). The teachers of one of my son’s autism classes collected pigs (not real ones, although they did seem awfully fond of BBQ pork). A couple of my friends even have collections so grand they’re featured on TV or in magazines (wave to the nice bloggers, Suzanne!).

It seems to me you’re either a collector … or not. I’m not. My collections are all accidental. Mom gives me a couple of ornamental boxes, people see them and say, “Aha, she likes ornamental boxes,” and next thing you know I’ve got twenty. My “collections” consist of eleven dolls, five fans, twelve perfume bottles, lots and LOTS of blue-and-white Thai ceramic ware, and, yes, about ten ornamental boxes. Most of which I did not buy myself.

I genuinely like all the pretty items in my pseudo-collections. Occasionally I consider expanding them into REAL collections by spending every waking hour on Ebay. But then I think … Why? Will I play with my collections? Will I even look at them once I’ve made them magnificent?

I end up talking myself out of it, especially when I think of the disadvantages:
a) they take up space
b) they require dusting (which is against my religion … hey, there must be a religion SOMEWHERE that bans dusting)
c) you have to buy things to display them with, in, or on
d) if you start one, you’re sure to be inundated with items for it, which increases the possibility of a), b) and c)

So I remain collection-less.

What about you? Do you collect things? Monkey parts? Legos? Hot guys? (That particular collection, though tempting, would require a lot of expense and a more accommodating husband than mine.) Are you the collecting type or does amassing a collection take more effort than you can muster?

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it will be forever.

Or that’s the hope.

But even if it doesn’t last forever, I’m guessing that each of us has fallen in love at least once. There’s the first time. That amazing, stomach falling upward into your heart first time. You know what I mean. Maybe it was in grade school. Maybe it was at summer camp. Maybe it wasn’t until you were working your first job. But sometime, somewhere, you fell in love for the first time and you’ll never forget it.

Everyone talks about their first love, but today I want to know about the last time you fell in love.

The last time I fell in love it was summer and I was in the Colorado Rockies. He saw me and I saw him. He liked what he saw and I liked what I saw. He asked me to lunch. We talked and talked and talked. I won’t say I fell in love at first sight, but I did fall in love at first conversation.

While we were lingering over lunch, he asked me out for the following week and I said yes before the words were out of his mouth. This one, I thought, might be a keeper.

We were married a year later. That was 27 years ago, and he’s still my favorite person to talk to. I stil like the way he looks.

That was the last time I fell in love. What was yours? Are you one of those rare people whose first love was their last love?

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Since I complained in a recent blog about some of my favorite products becoming obsolete, I thought I should be fair and discuss the flip-side: New inventions. Manufacturers are improving their products all the time (mostly for the better), and brilliant folks regularly come up with new ideas that make our hectic lives a little easier and more productive.

For example, a lot of moms (and diaper-changing dads) greatly appreciated the arrival of disposable diapers. I remember when we kids were little and living in Germany in civilian quarters, my mom had to start a fire in a boiler in order to heat water to wash our cloth diapers. Thankfully we’ve come a long way, baby.

And I actually played a role in making that happen since I worked for Proctor & Gamble’s Paper Division as a production manager and project engineer for many years. My Pampers lines made the first elasticized diapers in the world (how’s that for a claim to fame?!) And my lines also test-produced the first “wings” for Always sanitary napkins. Not to mention my involvement in making Bounty paper towels more absorbent and Charmin toilet tissue softer.

Yeah, I know these are luxuries, but I’m grateful for them. And I love how new stuff helps my life. Computers are getting faster by leaps and bounds. DVR’s now do what VCR’s did, only much better. I haven’t had to watch a commercial in two years (except for Super Bowl ads, which I want to see.) My new cell phone not only keeps me in touch with the world when I’m not in my office, it can take pics, videos, and access my e-mail from just about anywhere I can find a phone signal

Speaking of e-mail, I still remember not too long ago when the Internet was just a twinkle in some cyber-geek’s eye. What would we do without e-mail and websites now?

As for best inventions, my favorite gadget is my microwave. I couldn’t survive without it. Well, I suppose I could, but I sure wouldn’t want to.

Do you have favorite gadgets that you wouldn’t want to live without? Inventions that make you say, “I’m so glad they thought of that!”

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I used to like Spam, back when it was its own food group and Monty Python chanted about it. I never knew what it was, exactly, and I think I was probably better off that way.

The new Spam, I don’t like. The Spam I find in multitudes every morning when I open my virtual mail box. The two things I hate most about it are 1) its absurdity, and 2) the fact that on rare occasion it fools me into opening it.

First, the absurd Spam. The “You’ll Be Able to Unhook Her Bra with Your Penis” (I kid you not, that’s a real subject line) junk mail. The “You’ll Be Longer and Harder” or “Dude, What if Your Wife Finds Out?” Spam. Because, believe it or not, I don’t have a penis. I don’t want to unhook someone’s bra with one. If I did have a penis and if I wasn’t happy with its size, I would quietly speak with my doctor. I wouldn’t click on Spam and expect to have my problems solved.

Second, the tricky Spam. Sometimes I’ll get an email from a normal-sounding person (not Persnickety P. Alfalfa) not otherwise known to me with a subject line that says “I Love Your New One”. Yes, it could be referring to the above Bra-Removing Penis, but it could also be a thank-you from a reader who enjoyed my new book. Sometimes, it’s a thank-you. Usually, it’s an ad for Cialis or a secret about some stock that’s going to go through the roof on Monday.

Luckily, Spam frequently defeats itself. Before I open an email from someone I don’t know, I look at the rest of the subject lines in my bulk mail box. When Marge, Daisy, Matt, Clark, and Eva all say “I Love Your New One”, then I’m pretty sure I don’t need to know what it is they love. I suppose that it’s fortunate Spammers overlap themselves and are otherwise stupid, making the greatest inconvenience the fact that every morning I have 60-90 questionable messages in my bulk folder. Messages I can’t just leave there, because every so often it’s me that somebody loves.

How do you view Spam? Have you (or your computer) ever caught a virus because of Spam? Have you found a way to block it without blocking people you might actually want to hear from?

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I have a cat and I love her.  Her name is Bella, short for Belladonna, apropos for a mystery writer, wouldn’t you say?  We adopted her from the local animal shelter.  Her likes:  ice cubes in her water dish, sleeping in the bathroom sink, and leaving me kitty kibble at my place at the dinner table.  (Better than a dead mouse for sure.)  Her dislikes:  being held and cuddled.

I do love my cat, but I miss the whole holding and cuddling thing.  Plus I’ve been watching the Dog Whisperer on Nat’l G Channel. 

So, I want a dog.  I always had dogs, from the time I was ten years old until about three years ago.   When I was growing up we had a Spitz named Jody.  After I got married, Mr. R and had Bearded Collies.  Byron was our first, followed by Maggie, Roxie, and Shelley.  Roxie lived the longest and she left us at age sixteen about three years ago.

I love Beardies.  They have a sweet disposition, are beautiful, and maintain practical herding skills.  Byron was a certified herding dog - not with sheep but with ducks, which was a hoot to watch.  I’d love to have another Beardie, but now I live in FL and it may be too hot for their long coats.  Plus, I really would like a dog that requires less maintenance.

I want a sweet dog that will growl at intruders, but that I can train without a house call from Cesar Millan.  I want one that I can walk but doesn’t need me to run (’cause that ain’t gonna happen).  I want one with a low maintenance coat that is medium or large sized.

So anybody have an ideas?  I’ve considered rescue dogs also, perhaps a Greyhound.  There’s a dog racing track nearby and the rescue group finds retired Greyhounds good homes.

What dog do you love?  What do you love about him/her?  What don’t you like or what at least makes you annoyed?  Any ideas about a dog who will get along with Bella the icecube-loving cat?

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So I’m sitting on the couch Sunday morning, a chilled can of Diet Dr Pepper at my elbow and my computer with my revisions on my lap. And then it happens. First a small sideways shift, then a lift and a roll, followed by a thud. Yes, it’s an earthquake.

Having been born in Southern California, I’ve been through quite a few earthquakes. San Fernando in 1971, Whittier Narrows in 1987, and Northridge in 1994 were the largest of them for me, but there have been many, many more.

Like other residents, I stay where I am, waiting to see whether the shaking will stop or if it will get worse, becoming the dreaded “Big One”. As soon as it’s finished I call my mom, because no matter how small the quake she will immediately have started imagining me pinned and drowning beneath my 80 gallon aquarium, little fish flopping about on my face.

Now this may be because I haven’t been at the epicenter of a HUGE quake, but the earth shaking really doesn’t bother me. It can be inconvenient, yes, causing disrupted power and broken knick-knacks, but in a way it’s kind of…cool. Like however awesome the human race thinks it is, all the Earth has to do is hiccup and we hit the ground.

What does terrify me, though, is tornadoes. And hurricanes. And tsunamis. And really bad snow storms. Heck, with an earthquake you don’t have to worry about anything in advance and then you know pretty much right away if you’ve survived or not. Those other things, though, entail running away, hiding in basements, stocking up supplies, and otherwise waiting for an extended period while knowing that disaster is lurking. I’m not fond of lurking disaster.

Have you been through any big natural upheavals? What bothers you more – an earthquake or a whirling tornado of death? Has anyone found a place where none of that stuff happens? You know, a paradise?

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I like a man with a really big gun.

I also like a man who knows how to turn ‘business casual’ into ‘business sexy.’

And then, there’s that man who has both a big gun . . . and Big Guns!

Fellow goddesses, welcome to the World of Daniel Craig! Shoot me, baby!

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