Time for a Midwinter Break

We have been enjoying what I suppose is considered a mid-winter thaw. The snow cover that has largely been present for months has melted over ever enlarging patches revealing bare ground with grass and sometimes matted leaves underneath. Edges of fields and roadways are streaked with muddy ribbons of dirty snow thrown up by removal efforts. A hint of spring to come. A tease, perhaps. I realize we have something like six more weeks of winter, but I can’t help but be aware that we are at least headed toward spring.

Lesley remains steadfast in her belief that the weather outside is terrible although she has admitted to the sunshine being nice and the warmer temperatures surprisingly comfortable after the below-zero weather we had been dealing with. The Amish market is nearing completion I think, and they appear to be constructing a new sign at the edge of the village to announce its presence. We are eager for the opening. Honey, cheeses, baked goods, locally grown meat, and in-season vegetables. What’s not to look forward to? I have enjoyed catching an occasional glimpse of one of their carriages or buggies going by even during the coldest period. I have to admire their fortitude.

So, village life goes on and, while I can’t say the muddy season—as I think of it—is pretty in all aspects, it is a harbinger of spring, which I’m sure we will enjoy all the more for having endured the winter. Better not get in a hurry though. Temperatures are going down again, and rain and sleet are in the forecast for next week. Meantime, the leftover split pea soup I made is all the more appealing, and I can spend some time getting set for the many projects now lined up for the summer. I actually took advantage of the soft ground, went outside and dug up some yucca plants that threatened to overtake everything in their vicinity.

As to writing, I was feeling pretty good about the start I had made on my next novel when Lesley pointed out that it was too similar to a previous mystery I had written. I’m redoing the beginning, but that’s not as much fun as forging ahead. I still like the idea of taking Bobby to Cape Cod for his latest adventure, though. I must make sure I save some time to go there myself for some refresher research. I’m looking forward to that. The Cape has fantastic light conditions–one of the things I have also enjoyed about the winter snow-covered landscape. There are attractive villages up and down the Cape, and there is great food to be enjoyed. What more could I ask for?

I realize, many people flock to Florida this time of year to get away from the winter. Understandable, we can all enjoy a getaway on occasion. Where is your favorite place to get away to and what do you look forward to most when you go there?

Before the Thaw

 

                                       

Still Shoveling

With January about over and the scene through the windows still showing bare-limbed trees and snow coming down instead of palm trees, I have to reflect on the fact that we are still in New York and not in Florida. For my part, I have enjoyed getting out in the snow nearly every day. Lesley has found the walking too insecure for the most part and has been confined to the house. She’s not been happy. The cats have probably wondered what’s going on, but they are indoor pets so the world outdoors is mainly a visual tablleu experienced at the windows. They just want to be fed on a regular basis. Of course, it has not all been recreational for me either. I’ve done what seems to be a fair amount of snow shoveling and recently added ice-removal to my list of renewed skills. Have I mentioned I don’t like shoveling snow that is wet and heavy? Ice is no fun either.

I have enjoyed getting out and walking, hiking, or snowshoeing. Another thing I do like about the winter routine is the comfort food that seems permissible under the circumstances. I’ve enjoyed sourdough biscuits most mornings and sourdough English muffins on occasion. Sundays mean enjoyment of a weekly treat of sourdough pancakes. Needless to say, I do enjoy cooking with sourdough. Yep, you guessed right, Bobby Navarro actually got his sourdough start from my own experience and cooking enjoyment as well as from the ranch cook in his first adventure, Murder on Route Sixty-six.

So far, I haven’t put Bobby to work shoveling snow. Did I mention, I don’t like the heavy stuff? The first time I ever shoveled a driveway, I had just finished when the plow truck came by and covered the entrance with a deep mound of frozen slush and heavy snow. I wasn’t happy then either. Right now, I have Bobby out on the dunes of Cape Cod in his next adventure, my current work-in-progress. The warm tropical airs of Key Largo, his last mystery, now seem a distant and delightful memory. If you’re interested, here is the Amazon link to click on to get your copy . https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07L4Q5J15?pf_rd_p=c2945051-950f-485c-b4df-15aac5223b10&pf_rd_r=G7ZS771KVGE41ABVG74Y

I am delighted to be able to say that I am making progress on the next Bobby Navarro murder mystery. Still don’t know when we’ll head south, but it looks as though we are here for a while.  I’m looking forward to more time outdoors and more animal tracking. Not more shoveling. Meanwhile, our own animals seem content to curl up in warm places and sleep away the rest of the winter if possible. I’m not sure they even bother to watch me out the window when I’m shoveling the drive and the walkways. Oh, did I mention? I hate shoveling the heavy stuff. How’s your winter, and what do you enjoy doing for this season?

 

 

Village Life in the Winter

Since we have not yet made our annual sojourn to Florida, we have had plenty of opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with winter life in upstate New York. We have added new cold weather clothes to our wardrobes and dug out some things we had questioned whether we would ever need again, like ski gloves. Good thing. The cold has taken a bit of getting used to what with our being so accustomed to warm weather year around.

While some days are dark and dreary—it’s often cloudy, and the sun sets an hour earlier here than in Florida—winter skies can be gorgeous, not only with brilliant colors but with the contrasting shapes of bare limbed trees silhouetted against the evening sky.  My walks through the woods have been fun as well. I caught glimpses of Canada geese on the pond nearby until it became almost completely frozen over. Then they left. It was kind of sad when I no longer heard their honking calls, but I could understand their need to go south. The main pleasure has come from day after day of light snow on the ground, enabling me to track small animals as well as whitetail deer. Squirrels and voles have created runs on their daily forays. I’ve also been able to track a gray fox.

Tracking animals can be as exciting as glimpsing the animals themselves. Sometimes more so. Tracking their movements is like solving a puzzle, looking for the next piece needed to fill in a complete picture of what they have been up to, undisturbed by my presence.

Of course, after spending a couple of hours in the freezing cold, there’s nothing like cup of hot tea or cocoa to put a warm cap on the afternoon’s explorations. Sitting out back and watching the birds, and sometimes an alligator, down south is certainly enjoyable and another way to relish a good cuppa, but coming in from the cold to a hot drink is its own special pleasure.

Naturally, our wintry stay has stirred thoughts about how Bobby Navarro would take on the winter season. Knowing how Bobby loves to get out on an open road in the southwest where he can see from one horizon to the other, I have to ask myself how he would respond to these days of darkness and cold. I think the answer is likely that he would get outside as often as he could. He is an outdoor guy. He would enjoy filling his lungs with the crisp freshness of the winter air. I suspect he would thrill to the feel of freezing wind against his face just as he loves the rush of wind off the high desert when he’s on his Harley.

So, am I going to put Bobby in a wintry situation in an upcoming novel? I’ve been asking myself that very question. Any thoughts?

Reflections and Resolutions for 2019

I enjoy being reflective this time of year. I think that’s connected with why I like to make New Year’s resolutions. It’s a time to think over the past year and attempt some tweaking of the way I’ve bee  engaging life. I’m feeling pleased regarding the resolutions I made for the present year. I don’t mean that boastfully, and I can’t say I either fulfilled my resolutions completely or kept them with steadfast dedication. I have a long way to go. But, I did make progress on the things I resolved to do and maintained the effort all year. Good enough. I must admit though, I went for improvement rather than specific, quantifiable goals, even though that was against advice given in the media. To each his own.

So, for this New Years, I intend to keep working on last year’s resolves, strengthened by a sense that progress is doable and the results rewarding. But, my reflections over the past year won’t let me keep it at that. I suspect there are many of us who feel concern reflecting over the past months. I’m not going to go into great detail in this regard either, in case you were worried. I engage in too much of that kind of reflection every day I read the news and learn about the latest atrocity or inexplicable blunder on the world scene, especially when our own country is partially or heavily culpable.

What kind of New Year’s resolution regarding national and world events would be called for in the case of an average citizens such as myself? Get out and vote? I did. I suspect there are a range of answers, and I’m hoping those reading this blog will give thought to sharing their ideas on the matter. I can try reading and watching less news, but that only provides me a little insulation and does nothing to address the issues. So, here’s my thought. It was inspired by things I’ve read recently concerning the term “liberal”. I’ve always been comfortable owning something of a liberal identity—I went to Berkeley, how could I not? But, I never embraced change simply for the sake of difference. I have always felt it worthwhile to maintain those parts of our past that have value. I suppose that makes me a little conservative as well. The problem is, these terms have both become political slurs. So, liberalism and conservatism aside, I intend to reflect on my core values and give myself a refresher course in their use in my daily life. Really. It’s easy to take one’s core values for granted. It can be self-enlightening to examine how they play out in daily behavior. I can recall philosophy classes in which this was an intentional, thought-provoking challenge.

On an entirely different matter, my mystery writing is not intended as a New Year’s reflection/resolution exercise. It’s supposed to be entertaining, and I’m still feeling excited to have my latest Bobby Navarro mystery, Murder in Key Largo, available through Amazon and Kindle. Here is a link for anyone who would like to take a peek at his latest adventure: https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Key-Largo-Navarro-Mystery-ebook/dp/B07L4Q5J15/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1546211608&sr=8-2&keywords=Murder+in+Key+Largo

Murder in Key Largo: My Latest Bobby Navarro Mystery

I’m thrilled to announce the latest Bobby Navarro mystery, Murder in Key Largo, has just been published and is available both as eBook and paperback. Dive into another Bobby Navarro adventure as Bobby takes his Harley to the fabulous Florida Keys. It’s a fishing vacation turned into a hunt for the killer of a young lawyer helping people defend their homes against real estate development. The victim’s parents aren’t convinced his death was accidental, and neither is Bobby after he joins forces with an old Marine Corps buddy, now private investigator, to solve the mystery. An uninvited visitor Bobby hasn’t seen in years—his mother—competes for Bobby’s time and attention, and a young woman Bobby is teaching how to kayak goes missing. Bobby fears for the worst, but we can be sure he won’t give up until he has solved the—Murder in Key Largo. You can find this book at Amazon by clicking on the following link: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Murder+in+Key+Largo

Hot Cocoa and a Snowy Day

There’s nothing like a mug of hot cocoa on winter’s day. Lesley dug out some marshmallows that were left over from a camping trip with my son’s last spring to add to the treat. I had forgotten how well they topped off a hot cup of cocoa. Tasty and fun. It took me back more years than I want to acknowledge to when I was a kid in California. Then, it was hot chocolate made with milk heated in a pot over the gas burner of our stove. (That was before we moved to the hills and reverted to using a wood stove.) Hot chocolate. It was  also the best accompaniment to a grilled cheese sandwich ever. That, along with a cup of tomato soup, was a real lunch treat for my sister and me. You know, it still sounds good. I still love grilled cheese. Come to think of it, I haven’t had tomato soup in years . I don’t even know if I like it anymore, but it sounds good.

When we moved from Oakland to the northern California hills, I got my first taste of snow.  Literally. We were coming home from school, and the bus couldn’t make it all the way. Stranded in the snow. We had to walk about four and a half miles to get home. Mom was waiting for us, worried but thankful to have us there safe. After getting us dried off and thawed out, she made something she called “snow cream”, a cup of snow mixed with canned milk and maple syrup. We thought it was terrific, but then, we were kids. These days, I’m sure I would prefer French Vanilla ice cream or frozen custard.

We didn’t have snow often where we lived, just occasionally. Most of the winter, it was  just cold. For college, I moved back to the bay area, but I got a refresher course in winter snow when I was in the navy and in New Port, Rhode Island. I remember going to a Christmas midnight mass during a snowstorm. Everyone was heavily bundled, and you could see your breath when you talked. Several inches of snow made everything feel like living in a Currier and Ives scene. That night still stands out as a special Christmas experience.

On another occasion, I was at a donut shop in New Port. Several kids sat at the other end of the counter, enjoying donuts and hot cocoa. One of them wasn’t taking part in the eating and drinking. A portly beat cop demanded in a loud voice to know why that one wasn’t having anything. He said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want anything. One of the other kids said it was because he didn’t have any money. The cop, in the same loud voice, told the wait person to give the kid a hot cocoa and whatever kind of donuts he wanted. The young boy tried to turn down the offer, but the cop told him he would either “. . .eat it or wear it”. Some police officers know the street–and care. They can be great. I think some are still out there.

I like to think Bobby Navarro would be the kind of guy who would notice a young boy in a group of kids doing without in order to at least be a part of the group. I don’t think such a boy would turn down a command to accept a couple of donuts and mug of hot cocoa from a biker like Bobby either.

Funny how something like a mug of hot cocoa can stir memories of cold days past. How about you?

 

Warm Winter Thoughts

We received a good eight inches of the white stuff outside the other day, and it seems to be lasting. The forecast is snow off-and-on for the foreseeable future, and it’s snowing outside as I write this blog. Lesley keeps mentioning that we made a mistake in delaying our trek south. Since we’d rather not have to drive through snow, especially through Pennsylvania, we keep trying to look ahead for a break in the weather, but we haven’t noticed anything encouraging. She doesn’t care for the cold weather. Even one of our cats seems to be spending his time on an upstairs bed looking out a window at the whitened landscape as though he feels trapped inside. We’ve been trying to tell him as an indoor cat he is always trapped inside, but he seems to feel this is different.

In a way, I’ve been trapped inside too–by projects like making a plumbing repair in the basement. And, my forays outside have had mainly to do with shoveling snow. It’s been years since I’ve done that. Good thing we kept a snow shovel. After these “outings” I’ve opted for a mug of hot chocolate rather than finding out if I still remember how to ski. I keep putting that moment off until my indoor obligations are tended to.

Not complaining, mind you. It’s been great weather for hearty seafood chowder, bean soup, and other comfort- food-and-drink appropriate to the season. I’ve always loved fall and winter as seasons for baking and roasting. Root vegetables have taken over the daily indulgence in sautéed kale, steamed pole beans, and fresh salads. I guess Lesley is right, I tend to think with my stomach. Not surprising that I put my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, on a cattle ranch in the southwest learning how to cook like a sourdough in his debut novel. The other day I read over a notebook I had kept on some earlier cross-country rides of my own to do research for that book. It was impressive reliving some of the rides I encountered on those trips. A lot of rough weather and difficult driving conditions, but great encounters with interesting people, too.

Well, people say you should write what you know. I also think you should write what you love, what you have a passion for. Presumably, that passion spills over into your writing, inspires your imagination and drives your work. No, that doesn’t mean I have a passion for murder, but I do have tireless fascination with people. Like other writers, I’m an incurable people-watcher. So is Bobby. It’s one of the things he loves about being on the road. Another is being in the outdoors, and simply being on the road itself.

Speaking of the outdoors, I’ve been loving the snow in spite of the need for shoveling. I have managed to get out a few times for extended walks, and I might dig out those old cross-country skis yet. In the meantime, Bobby’s latest adventure has been formatted for publication, and I’m looking forward to seeing Murder in Key Largo finally make its way into print. How is the onset of the season affecting you?

At the Start of the Storm

Magical Beans

I learned early in life that a beanstalk might grow up into the sky, into the land of giants. I never did understand why giants would live up in the sky, their being so big and heavy and all. Of course, I’m talking about Jack and his magical beans. As it turns out, his exploit was the only one I recall having turned out that way, although our experience seemed to be headed in that direction for a while.

Last summer we tried growing pole beans. I don’t have any previous experience growing them, so I was anxious to see how they would turn out. The woman who provided us the beans to start with was at a local nursery. She had run out of pole beans to sell but gave me a few from her own store, warning me that they would grow to a considerable height. Sound ominous yet?

We happily planted the beans and I built a framework to provide a trellis for the vines to grow on. It was around eight feet in height, so I figured that would be plenty tall enough. Amazingly, the beanstalks grew even beyond the top of the framework. The beans they produced were delicious, and we both agreed to give them another try this year.

Again, there were no beans available at the stores and nurseries in the area, but a neighbor gave us a few beans she had on hand. Do you see a possible pattern here? We planted the beans and waited in anticipation. They certainly grew well in terms of climbing the trellising I had built. However, it seemed to take a long time for them to produce any blossoms, let alone beans. Lesley gave up on them, but I held onto my belief they would do something eventually. And, eventually they did.

I thought the beans delicious, although Lesley said they tasted strange.  Undeterred, I  ate them along with fresh kale we had grown as well. As before, the stalks grew beyond the top of the trellis and proved quite fruitful. I finally let them mature to the point where the beans inside the pods could develop then dry on the vine. I shelled the dried pods and was impressed to find the yield nearly three pounds of beans from the few stalks we had planted. 

I was intrigued by the way the beans adsorbed the pod inside which they were attached from their vegetable umbilical cords, or umbilical threads, and grew into miniature  nutrient storehouses. It was like discovering the magic of food production all over again. I had tended our vegetable garden when I was a kid and delighted in the tastes of carrots and radishes and tomatoes picked and eaten on the spot. For most of my adult life however I have looked to grocery isles in the local supermarket as the source of fresh produce. It has been a treat to rediscover growing some of our own.

From what I read in the news, a lot of people are returning to locally grown produce and planting gardens all over the country. I hope others enjoy the sense of magic through this experience as I did. Of course, I had to ask myself whether my protagonist, Bobby Navarro, would have any gardening experience in his life. For the most part, I think the enjoyment and magic of a vegetable garden would not be practical for Bobby. He spends too much of his time on the road. But, that’s important too. Sometimes our characters are defined by things they don’t have, or do, as well as the things they do. When I was pitching my first book to an editor at a conference, I said, “Looking for a home is what keeps him on the road”. She made me stop and write that down. She said it  was a compelling description of Bobby’s character, defining him by something missing in his life. 

I wouldn’t say not having a garden makes one’s life incomplete, but having one can help enrich it. How about you? Is gardening a part of what makes your life good? Remember, there might be some magic in those beans.

Picking Those Magic Beans

On a Rainy Day

It’s snowing today. Just showers, but snow nevertheless. Naturally, conversations with others are focused on the weather. The other day, I was sitting in the dentist’s office and overheard two people talking about the weather. Outside, it was rainy and cold, and one of the people said she liked rainy days. Her comment reminded me of a coworker in Los Angeles many years ago. She was from Portland, Oregon, a city with a reputation for considerable rainfall. My coworker’s approach was that you just dress for the rain and do what you want to do anyway.

The second person in the dentist’s office said she didn’t like rain, but she loved days that were windy, not hurricane windy, but with winds that were strong. Her comment made me stop and think as well. When I was growing up in northern California, I lived on a farm and always seemed to have reason to be outside, no matter the weather. I loved storm winds and remember clouds scudding across the moonlit sky, carried by strong winds. It was exciting, so much so I didn’t mind the pelting raindrops on my face, the cold, or the buffeting force of the wind against my body. I was skinny in those days, so maybe I should have feared being blown away. I didn’t, though.

When I lived in the Los Angeles area as an adult, I recall going out on the pier at night during the winter and embracing the winds off the ocean. I had crossed that ocean more than once while in the navy. I still thrilled to the excitement of faraway places those winds seemed to promise. I do today.

Of course, not all weather conjures up thoughts of adventure. Cold, wet and rainy days summon images of coffee shops, warm fires and a good book as well. Blustery, cold days stir thoughts of soups and stews, fresh baked bread, and hot, homemade pies in any cook’s heart, don’t you agree?

My series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, must have some of my love of winds and weather when he’s not actually on the road and exposed to the elements on his Harley. I think his enjoyment of cooking must include a repertoire of favorite dishes to match the weather like many of us as well. So, I assume rainy days carry a litany of images and memories for Bobby as well as me. How about you? Is the first snowfall exciting? Does a rainy fall day make you want to curl up with a good book, get something baking in the oven, or dress for the occasion and go outside?

 

A Portentous Season

 

I watched a tree squirrel from the window as it hopped across the front of the house to the flower garden at the side, where it buried a nut beneath a hydrangea bush. I was taking the morning off. The squirrel was busy as usual. Not that I haven’t been busy. Whenever the weather half permitted, I worked to finish the tag ends of summer projects that still await completion. I mowed the yard the other days as well, and for a few hours the yellow and brown carpet of fallen leaves that had covered the ground was only to be seen at the edges of the yard beneath the bare flower stalks and leafless shrubs.  Of course, today the carpet has returned in increased measure.

The other day, I surprised a deer in the backyard. We seldom see them, or evidence of their passing, although they use the yard as a thoroughfare during the winter. I think she was checking out the garden, perhaps assessing the height of the fence I built to keep out the woodchuck that insists on using the  stream bank as a place for its burrow. I’ve been letting the pole beans mature and look forward to harvesting the beans from the dried pods. Maybe she was eyeing them.

Fall has settled around the village in a sudden blanket of seasonal change. Not much color in the trees, for the most part. The leaves seem to be turning brown and falling, a simple capitulation to summer’s end. The weather is still pretty warm and remains cloudy and rainy. I would like to enjoy some dry, crisp days before the cold sets in. Don’t know if that is in the cards.

Yesterday, they held a demolition derby at the fairgrounds down the street. The entrants were paraded in on trailer beds all morning, and the you could hear their engines defiant roaring as participants crashed into each other until only the winner was able to continue movement. It’s a popular sport in these parts, although having lived in Los Angeles and driven in New York city and Boston I find it difficult to understand the attraction. Making-do with what you have seems more consistent with village life than intentionally ramming a vehicle that still runs well into another one. It is popular, though.

Life in a village sometimes seems to provide an immunity from outer social chaos. Here, everything appears to be readying for the season to come. Geese are gathering, squirrels are stockpiling supplies, crops are being harvested and put away for the months ahead. Life feels almost normal, a combination of satisfaction and relaxation from summer’s endeavors and an adrenalin rush to prepare for the coming months. It usually offers a dazzling celebration of life. This year, that social insulation from the outer world has proved somewhat thin, and fall is simply slipping into whatever lies ahead. Time to get those projects finished and get back to writing another Bobby Navarro adventure. How about you? Is fall a time of pumpkins and pies, or a time of darkening days and menacing goblins?