Looking for a new muse

by Christie Kelley

I am currently winding my way down on the latest story. Soon revisions will be done and the manuscript will be off to my editor. After which, I'll be back to thinking of a new proposal. I already have some good ideas but I need a muse.

For the last three stories, I have had some beautiful muses. My April release, Something Scandalous, my hero Will was fashioned after Eric Bana. I think he plays a man who wants nothing to do with being a duke quite well.

My October release, Scandal of the Season finally features a secondary character who seems to grow more intense with every book. Jensen Ackels from Supernatural can play a perfect Somerton. And noboy can give a smirk like Somerton.

My untitled work in progress features one of the favorite muses in the lair. Nicholas could only be Hugh Jackman. Yep, he's just about perfect.

So now that I need a new muse, I thought I'd ask for help. I need three good men (oh, doesn't that sound naughty!). Since I haven't written a hero with blond hair yet, maybe I should. Somerton was the closest, but his hair is a little more brown. So for all you ladies who like the blondes, you are going to have to convince me.

I'm really looking for three hardened rakes for this series. Other than Somerton, I haven't written a good rake. I have a few ideas in my head so let me know what you think about these.

Matt Bomer who plays Neil Caffrey on the USA Network show, White Collar. He has gorgeous blue eyes and I think he might make a pretty good rake. What do you think?

Another possibility is James Marsden. He played in 27 Dresses and the X-Men movies. As you can see once again, I go for the dark hair and light eyes. I think I need something different!


So as you can see, I need more ideas. All three men will be hardened rakes, although the maybe the third will be more gossiped about than actual rake. Should I have a blonde? I'm really not sold on that so if you like them, convince me! So give me your bad boys!

Children or No?

by Jo Robertson

My friend Kelly is a single school teacher. She claims that she hates stories that have children in them. She wants the romance, the one-and-only dream of the hero and heroine’s love story.

Children just spoil that for her.

Many readers have clamored for J.D. Robb (aka Nora Roberts) to take Roarke and Eve Dallas’ relationship to the next level and bring a child into their family.

It’d certainly be interesting. Dallas has no idea what to do with children, much less how to adjust to a pregnancy and the stress and tension of a newborn.

Having been down that road seven times myself, I can say with some assurity that it wouldn't be pretty.

Remember when Eve's friend Mavis is pregnant and Dallas is required to do all those social amenities at which she is so

inept? Baby showers, birth coaching, dealing with pre-pregnancy jitters?

Not pretty.

Even though I have seven children and too many grandchildren to keep track of, I feel the same way as my friend.

When children enter a romance story, I yuck heartily and put the book back on the shelf.

Now, I love my children and adore my grandchildren, but I don’t want them in my romance stories. Come to think of it, I don’t want them in my mystery/thriller/suspense stories either.

And I definitely believe that introducing children into the Roark-Dallas dynamic would be a serious mistake.

Mind you, I think those pictures of babies with men are very sexy, much like having a man cooking. Something about men performing previously-dominated

“women’s” purview makes me go squishy inside.

A man who knows how to change a diaper? Worth my weight in gold.

A man who knows how to cook? Worth his weight in gold.

I’ve included a picture of Dr. Big with our granddaughter Emma. Precious. Sweet. But not sexy, or is that just the old guy in the picture?

So I was wondering what you readers think? Do you like the addition of a baby to a romance tale? The heroine already established with children or her own? The hero with motherless children perhaps?

What’s your fav family book or writer?

Or like me, do you prefer your romance stories to be unfettered by the presence of children? Why?

Or if you’re a J.D. Robb fan, what do you think about the childless Roarke family? By the way, Robb’s made it clear that she has no intention of creating a larger family for Roarke and Eve. I hope she sticks to that intention, but what do you think?

Winter Fatigue

By Trish Milburn

Anyone who knows me knows that winter is, by far, my least favorite season. I get cold easily, I hate gray days, and I've had some bad experiences traveling in wintry weather (like doing unintentional 360s down the highway until I ended up in a ditch). Even a normal winter here in the South has me layering up in fleece and watching for the earliest sign of spring -- my daffodils popping out of the ground. Of course, lately my daffodils, which popped up a few weeks ago, have been shivering. It's been a cold, gray winter with more snowfalls than we typically have. In fact, we have another covering the ground this morning, one that came overnight. There's a bit of iciness to it because it crunches on our street when people drive by. It's been so cold (down to single digits at some points) that I nearly had a stroke when I saw my last natural gas bill.

But this year, I don't think I'm the only one experiencing winter fatigue. People on the East Coast of the U.S. have been buried by one giant snowstorm after another. Residents of Texas and the Deep South even got a taste of winter -- a foot of snow in Dallas and snowfalls in atypical states such as Louisiana and Mississippi. I was supposed to go to Ohio today for a romance program at a library, but I just found out that it's been moved to March because of bad weather.

At times like this, I try to look for consolations and things to look forward to in order to get through the winter blues. For instance, I tell myself that it can snow and be cold now because I have to be inside doing revisions and reading RITA entries anyway. Maybe by the time I turn them in, the weather will have improved enough that I can start walking outside again instead of on the treadmill.

I think about where I'll be a month from today -- Disney World! I LOVE Disney World, and it'll be a nice treat in between two deadlines and a board meeting. And at the end of next month, I'll get to enjoy a visit with my sister and nieces when they fly in for a week. Yes, my entire March is full to the brim, but there's a lot to enjoy in there. And hopefully, it won't be cold and there won't be a snowflake in sight and the daffodils will be in full bloom.

So, how has winter been where you are? Are you looking forward to spring? What do you do to get yourself through winter? Or are you a winter lover? And for our friends in the southern hemisphere, what is the weather like where you are now? It's odd for me to think that Christmas and Valentine's Day fall during your summer.

Valentines Fun

by Tawny

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Here we are, once again, at that fabled day of love and romance. Once a year, even though we probably don't recall why, we honor February 14th with red hearts, glittery cards, flowers and chocolates. Oh, there are the less common celebratory gifts; diamonds, sexy lingerie, semi-automatic weapons (yeah, seriously, one year my husband asked for one of these representations of pure romance to celebrate the day. I said no.)

So now, let the Valentine's accolades begin...

Wait!! What's that I hear? (picture me with my hand cupped around my ear, looking inquisitive). Is that a groan? A Valentine's groan?

Why???

Its the holiday of looo-ooove (say it with me now, looo-ooove, really rolling those 'o's' up and down like a teasing lil kid). We're trained young for this holiday, aren't we? I remember back in early gradeschool, taking a simple paper bag, adding colorful cutout hearts and pretty glitter and then :::ta da::: I had a magic bag.

Yes, magic. Because in that bag, I was assured, I would collect lots and lots of love come Valentine's Day!! To my seven-year-old heart, that meant chocolate, of course. (Come to think of it, to my older-than-seven-year-old heart, it means chocolate, too) I remember spending hours, painful hours since my handwriting was atrocious, signing those little paper valentines with cutesy animals saying clever things. Matching up just the right animal to just the right classmate. Agonizing over the perfect candy hearts (chocolate or conversation - oh the choices!). And then... dum da dum... the big day arrived. Thanks to the teacher's rule of 'participation means everyone', all the kids had valentines for all the other kids. So my paper bag was filled. With magic?

Well, in my lil' mind, magic meant my name was spelled right. And the chocolate? Magic chocolate melts in your mouth, but mine was kinda on the ick side. And that maybe, just maybe, my magic bag would have a loving little Valentine in it saying those special words: "Love, your Secret Admirer". Or, you know, anything romantic and sweet. But did it? Nope, never.

My magic Valentine's hopes were dashed.

Sigh... yeah, now I think I understand those groans I heard.

Valentine's expectations, be they good or bad, carry a lot of weight. Magic, love, good chocolate. That's a lot to ask of a day and one lil arrow-toting dude in a diaper.

And those amazingly talented guys in advertising only add to the weight of the day, drawing on all of the romantic hot buttons to sell their merchandise and get us thinking.

And yet, here I am, on still another Valentine's Day, wishing you all the magic of love. And because I'm a big believer in love and laughter going together like chocolate and caramel (mmmmm), how about some fun?

How about we spend the day celebrating by coming up with the cheesiest Valentine's greeting possible? Poetry isn't my strong suit, but I'll try and kick us off:

Roses are red

The stars shine from above

I want Johnny Depp

To be my hunka hunka burnin' love!

There... now that's really REALLY bad, right? My Valentine's challenge to you? Top my lack of talent with YOUR cheesy Valentine greeting.

And at the end of the day, I'll draw one name to win a valentine from me -a copy of any of my books and a box of truffles. The good, melt in your mouth kind. Not the ick kind!!

Be Vewy, Vewy, Quiet....I'm Hunting Gwoundhog!

by Joan Kayse

I’m ready for spring. I want crocus and tulips and forsythias blooming. I want blue skies and Mama robins building nests. I want green grass and budding trees and soft breezes.

So Mr. Groundhog...you’re toast!

I know. I know, I know, I know my winter experience has not been of the apocalyptic proportions as Jeanne and Christie and many of our BB’s along the Atlantic seaboard. Here in my part of Kentucky we’ve had intermittent snowfalls. Yesterday’s was a measly 7 inches. On the now popular DC scale that’s a dusting. But the blankety blank stuff won’t stay shoveled! I woke to 2-foot drifts blocking my drive. (Note: There is no such thing as enterprising teens wanting to make some bucks...even the lure of my chocolate chip cookies couldn’t bring them away from their warm, snug Wii consoles.)

And now our weather guy is saying Sunday we’ll get at LEAST that much more.

I’m done.

Was it really only 11 days ago that our friend Punxatawny Phil saw his shadow? Personally, I think it’s a con as any groundhog thrust up into the glare of camera lights is GOING to see his shadow. He didn’t scurry back into his hole because of an impending six more weeks of winter! He had a flashback to those headlights on Route 86 that took his less well known cousin, Pete the Possum, out a few years back.

Now I wouldn’t really hurt anything furry and cute. After all, Marmota Monax is in the same family as squirrels (rabid squirrel!) and I like them ok. But I figure if we hunt him down and force him to see the error of his ways maybe spring will come next week!

So Phil...here’s the deal:

Snow hides the robins. We can’t see them and take comfort in knowing spring will not forget us.

Cold weather makes skin dry and rough and, well...you just don’t want to be in the Lair with scratchy Banditas. Sven does not have enough lotion.

No one can see my pedicure in boots up to my knees.

Snow bleaches everything out...until the traffic comes and then it turns into a black/gray glob that takes until July to melt. And don’t get me started on yellow snow....

Gray sky is depressing. Throw a little sun our way once in awhile. Oh, but wait. Let me put on these shades because sun plus miles of white snow = blindness.

So my question for you is, what do you have to say to Phil? What signals the start of spring for you? Whose your favorite Looney Tunes character and last, but not least, who wants to take in an oversized rodent until April?

One For The Money

by Susan Sey

Heads up, Evanovich fans--the movies are coming.

I just read (on one of the scurrilous celebrity gossip sites you guys know I'm so fond of) that Katherine Heigl has been tapped to play Stephanie Plum in the movie adaptation of One For the Money.

This causes me sincere & serious distress.

Katherine Heigl is just so...LA. Nothing against her, of course, but she's so impossibly pretty and fresh and...blond. Just really, really blond. Maybe I haven't been reading closely (it's possible--I tend to skim for dialogue when I'm really into a story) but I'm pretty sure Stephanie's not a blonde. Plus, Stephanie is so quintessentially Jersey, you know? Big hair, plenty of mascara, ass-kicking boots and a bone-deep knowledge of her neighborhood.

Katherine Heigel in the Berg? I can't see it. And I can't imagine anybody who'd actually read the books greenlighting that casting decision.

Then I heard who she replaced:

Reese Witherspoon.

A southern blond. A teeny southern blond. With a pointy (though admittedly adorable) little face. Who the hell is making these decisions?

I went to Janet Evanovich's website to see if there was any outrage on this score, & it isn't even mentioned. So I cruised over to the FAQs, & Janet did admit to thinking Sandra Bullock would be a great Stephanie Plum. I thought so too. I thought Julia Roberts might do, as well. But unfortunately, both of them are, what, 45 years old by now? And Stephanie is about thirty?

We need some outside the box thinking here, people. Who would you rather see play Stephanie Plum? (I'll leave the Ranger/Morelli casting for another post, because that's a topic that absolutely requires devotion and thought.)

Me? I'd kinda like to see Ann Hathaway do it. She's very East Coast, and while not traditionally beautiful, plenty hot enough to catch the attention of guys like Morelli and Ranger. Plus I could totally see her blowing up a car or two.

How about you? Thoughts on this very important topic?

Highly Recommended

by Christine Wells

Now that summer holidays are fast becoming a distant memory, I reflected today that I've been through rather a purple patch recently with reading matter. I thought I'd share some of these with you in case they hadn't come your way.

The Slightest Provocation by Pam Rosenthal

This is a novel I deliberately didn't read when it came out because I was writing a book on a similar subject. I'm so glad it finally found its way to the top of my TBR pile. Coincidentally, The Slightest Provocation is now being released in mass market paperback for the first time with this new cover, so please rush to the bookstore to buy your copy! It's always a comfort to find that a writer I like and admire as a person also writes wonderful books. This is a sexy, beautifully crafted novel, unlike anything I've read, devoid of cliches, yet it was such a satisfying romance, I cheered at the end.

The Mitford Girls by Mary S. Lovell

I became an Anglophile at an early age watching Love in a Cold Climate, the BBC dramatization of Nancy Mitford's witty fictionalization of her own life as one of English peer Lord Redesdale's six daughters. But in the Mitfords' case, reality was far more remarkable than fiction! Nancy wrote widely acclaimed novels and biographies and had a long-standing affair with Charles de Gaulle's right hand man while living in Paris; sister Debo married the man who became the Duke of Devonshire and is partly responsible for turning the grand estate of Chatsworth into the highly profitable business it has become; sister Unity was a fanatical fascist who became an intimate of Hitler and shot herself in the head when war broke out between Germany and Britain.

Another sister, Decca, was a Communist. She ran away to fight the fascists in Spain and eventually worked for the Communist Party in the United States, dodging the CIA. Diana married the head of the British fascist party, Sir Oswald Mosley and spent some of the war in prison because of her politics.

Their bewildered mother said of the Mitford girls that whenever she saw a newspaper headline that began "Peer's Daughter" she knew one of them had been up to something. On another occasion, she despaired that all her daughters must fall in love with dictators. This is a lively, witty biography that is well worth a read.

The C.S. Harris St. Cyr Mysteries

Anna Campbell first recommended this series to me and I heartily endorse her opinion. Nobleman, former soldier and unwilling sleuth, Sebastian St. Cyr is a complex blend of flawed human, aristocrat and superhero. Harris brings Regency London to life in all its seamy and glittering glory in this tightly plotted murder mystery series.

For Regency historical lovers, this series is a must. The romantic threads took a spellbinding twist in the latest instalment, What Remains of Heaven. I cannot wait to see how the characters deal with the tough choices ahead of them!

What books have you read lately that you highly recommend?

My Reckless Cover!

by Anna Campbell

LOOK! LOOK! LOOK!

I have a cover for my June 2010 release, MY RECKLESS SURRENDER!

Isn't it sexy? And that yellow just pops! This is going to look fabulous on the shelves of a bookstore!

I love the tagline too -

Seduction is a most dangerous game...

Yet her heart begs her to be reckless!

She has rather a come-hither look in her eyes, hasn't she? Something completely appropriate for the character. My heroine gets to be quite a naughty girl in this story - as you can probably tell from that steamy stepback with all the bare flesh. And he's pretty tsssss hot too, isn't he? Clearly, being reckless has its rewards.

Here's the blurb:

Headlong into sin...

A well-practiced rake, weary of easy conquests and empty pleasures, Tarquin Vale, Earl of Ashcroft, knows women—and his every instinct warns him to beware of this one. Diana Carrick’s brazen overtures have thrown the haunted, sinfully handsome lord completely off his guard. Why, the exquisite temptress stated outright that she wishes to be his lover! But it is neither Diana’s boldness nor her beauty that intrigues him so—it is the innocence he senses behind her worldly mask.

Intent upon the seduction that will finally free her, Diana has set her sights on the notorious Ashcroft—never dreaming that there is much more to the enigmatic rogue than sin and deviltry. His kiss is bewitching, his caress intoxicating—and even the dangerous secret Diana must protect cannot shield her from Ashcroft’s dark allure.

Unwittingly yet most willingly, they are playing with fire. Now the fuse has been lit and there is no escape…except surrender.

You can read an excerpt on my website. Check it out!

And while you're there, why not enter this month's contest which gives you a chance to win a signed trade paperback Aussie edition of one of my books? The question's really easy. Believe me, if you've seen this blog, you'll KNOW the answer, snork!

As has often been pointed out, the Banditas have been REALLY lucky with the cover gods. I think this is another one to add to the roll! You'll notice this is my first cover to feature a girl on her own. In fact, this cover to me is reminiscent of Christine and Donna's more recent releases. Definitely the glint in the heroine's eyes is something all of them have in common!

So what do you like to see on a cover? A clinch? An object of relevance to the story? A girl on her own? A guy on his own? An animal (I love Kate's cats!)? Does the cover ever convince you to buy the book?

And hey, don't you think MY RECKLESS SURRENDER's cover is indeed magnificent? LOL!

Hab A Colb?

by Cassondra Murray



I do.

Sucks.

Wait. Correct that. It blows.

I've had it since Saturday night, but I'm way tired of it already.

Generally, I am not sick much. This is a good thing because I'm a lousy sick person.

I get whiney, impatient and needy and want somebody to take care of me.

My husband, Steve, does an admirable job of this, actually, which I do not understand, because when Steve is sick with some kind of bug, it goes something like the following:

"Honey," I say, "your fever is 110, which puts you near death. I think you should call in to work and tell them you're sick."

"Can't," he says. "Have a patient coming from a thousand miles away, across burning lava fields and shark infested waters. Little old lady who won't let anybody draw her blood but me."

Later that day, while he wears a mask at work to keep from killing said little old lady and everyone else....

"Honey," I say, (on the phone this time) "how's your headache and fever?"

"About the same."

"Have you taken any Ibuprofen?"

"Yeah, I took some earlier."

“Do you think it’s time for more?”

“I’m waiting for this to kick in.”

"What time did you take it last?"

"This morning. "

"What time this morning?"

"Before I left the house." ( It's now two in the afternoon. )

"Honey, it's a four-hour medicine. You left the house at 7."

"Oh. I guess it's time for another dose."

Later that evening...

"Honey, how's your head?"

"About the same."

"Have you had any pain meds?"

"Yes. They're not working."

"They didn't work at all????!!!!"

"Well, it eased up for a few minutes, but it's back."

"How long ago did you take them?"

"When you called me at work. ."

"Honey, that was 2 o'clock. It's 9 now. That's 7 hours ago."

"Oh."

Now I promise you that Steve is a bright boy, and he can count to four and tell time. But when he's sick, he watches movies, cleans guns, pigs out on the junkiest food we have in the house (I don't keep junk food, but when he's sick, he will stop to buy some), piddles around the house, and does what he normally does. Oh, except he stays up all night. He does not normally do that. Except when he's sick.






I have to nag him into eating healthy food, hydrating, taking meds and resting. He refuses to cooperate with anything even potentially sensible. It's like being sick brings out the stubborn in him.


When he's sick, I'll get up at 3 in the morning, and find him at the computer, in a bathrobe with nothing under it, barefooted on our cold hardwood floors, with the thermostat set at 58 degees. He'll be huddled in the computer chair, shivering and miserable.

"What the blue bloody blazes are you doing up," I say, "and fanning around the house half naked when you're sick?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Did you take your Nyquil?"

"I had some earlier. I’m waiting for it to kick in.."

Yeah….like eight hours earlier. And here we go again.

When he's sick, I can't make him take care of himself. He does it the hard way. Fights off that dirty rotten virus alone, lonely and cold, in the middle of the street at midnight, with his bare hands, dammit.

I am the complete opposite. I crawl into bed under a mountain of covers with an enormous stack of pillows and a book, and wait for help to arrive.

And arrive it does.

"How's your head?" Steve says as he comes through the bedroom door.

"Hurzz"

"How's your nose?"

"Stobbed up."

"Not feeling any better at all?"

"Wah."

He comes into the room and pokes a thermometer in my mouth, which almost certainly reads the same as it did two hours ago, but he pours out the next dose of Robitussin and stands at the ready as I gag it down (Is that stuff gross or what?) and reach for my water chaser, which he also has ready, cap open, so I can get rid of the vile stuff as quickly as possible. He puts another blanket on the bed, and makes sure everything is in place.


Fresh glass of orange juice? Check. Bottle of water I'm drinking now, plus one or two more for backup? Check. Extra blankets? Check. Box of Puffs Plus? Check. A 600-pack of Hall's Honey Lemon cough drops, plus two extra 600-packs in the drawer?
Check. Enough cold meds of every kind to last until the end of time...you know...just in case he should time it wrong and I wake up in need while he's out feeding dogs? Check.

I have a distinct preference for the Medicated into a numb state kind of lousy feeling over the running nose, sneezing, can't breathe, cough yourself into an oxygen-deprived stupor kind of lousy feeling.

Tonight he called from the grocery store (where he was buying more of my favorite orange juice (all-natural, not from concentrate, lots-of-pulp please) to ask what I wanted to eat. I wanted Teriyaki Chicken, so he drove across town to the best Japanese place to get two orders. No huffing and puffing on his part, and absolutely no guilt thrown.

I honestly do not understand this phenomenon.

Could it be that some latent gene lies within him? Could it be that when I’m sick and in bed for long periods during the daytime, the gene activates, based on some primordial fear that if I am not well soon, there will be never again be clean laundry?

I dunno.

Yes, I can function when I’m sick and do just fine. I have done it in the past at a rather high level, and I likely will have to do so again. But I don’t like it. I’m a rotten sickie.

Last night when I was firmly sandbagged into my warm, pillowed, healing place, I read Kate Carlisle’s fabulous new mystery, IF BOOKS COULD KILL. Nothing like a good mystery when it's snowing outside and you're sick. Tonight I think I’ll go for Anna Campbell’s latest while I nurse my poor nose and sip my new orange juice.


You should see the stack of dishes in the kitchen. I am fairly certain that we are out of clean plates and silverware, and so I will have to get up and come back to the realm of regular people and do home maintenance at some point soon.

But not now.

Cuz I hab a colb.



So what about it?

What kind of sickie are you? Are you a stubborn, “can’t keep ‘em down” sickie?

Or do you sandbag yourself into a comfy spot and wait for the cavalry?

Do you like to be left completely alone to lie in a pool of your own misery while you heal?

Or do you like to be taken care of and pampered?

What do you crave when you’re sick?

And what absolutely must be available? Lotion enhanced tissues? Orange soda? Sherbet and 7-up?

Do you keep the pharmaceutical companies in business with your supplies of Nyquil, Dayquil, and Robitussin?

Or do you tough it out with the aspirin and hot water bottle?

What’s your poison when you're in bed sick or hab a colb?

Snow, Glorious Snowwww......

by Jeanne Adams

Okay, apologies to Charles Dickens and the rip off of "Food, Glorious Food" from the musical Oliver, but it fits for snow so well and the tune is SO catchy! Grins.

I've been longing for a good whalloping snow for a while now. I do believe that I have desired a blizzard right into existance, so I'm thinking I need to apologize to the other 2-million-plus residents of the DC Metro area for this weekend's storm. (I'm thinking I had help though, since 900,000+ school kids are rockin' this snow storm too)

Either way, I'll say "Sorry!" (But I'm not sure I'll really MEAN it....)

You see, we've had snow this winter already, so I was already grinning and happy with the Snow Gods. We've had more this year than we've had in a decade, which has pleased me no end. I'm a snow lover. It makes me smile, it makes me happy, and I get a lot of exercise out there shoveling, making snow creatures, snow angels, and snow forts. The snowball wars...well, they're even more fun.

Some people are tropical people. They love the beach. They love the heat, they love the day they can actually don shorts without freezing their patooties off; they think summer is da bomb.

Then there are the odd ones, like me, who just adore autumn and winter. I look forward to the day it's cool enough to wear a turtleneck, sweatshirt and jeans. I mourn when it gets too hot to wear them. I love football. I think crisp autumn days and snow filled nights are a glory beyond words.

In the last decade, we've had nice fall weather, and to my disgust in the dead of winter we've had 60 degree days. Total bummer for us snow lovers. Since I've managed to have two kids and get published in the last ten years, I've not had much opportunity to leave all-too-warm-DC to go skiing. Another total bummer. Sigh. On the bright side, my kids are finally old enough that we're going to get to go do the ski thing next year. Whooooppeeeee!

Imagine my delight, then, when this year, we got SNOWWWW! In January, we got enough to go sledding on the neighbor's hill for three days straight. Everyone in the neighborhood gathered for an impromptu potluck. Then someone planned another one for the next night and spent the day making a snow track for the kids. What a riot!

Then it all melted. Bummer. But hey, I was thrilled. We'd FINALLY gotten some snow! I resigned myself to that snow being the great "hurrah" for the winter.

No to knock it, we made some wonderful memories. The kids talked for at least two more weeks about getting together, hanging out with the neighborhood, and playing in the snow.

Then, about 10 days ago, they started talking about "A Storm."

The closer it got, the more they refused to say how much snow we would get.

A sure sign this could be a whopper of a storm.

And it was. It measures 30" in some places in my yard. Neigboring counties in Maryland and Virginia got 43" of snow.

Guess what?

It's supposed to snow again tomorrow night. Yipeeeeeeee!

As you can tell, I'm gleeful. My husband? Not so much. You see, he's one of those shorts-loving-give-me-the-beach kinds. We're so compatible in other ways, that we tolerate this gaping rift in our enjoyment of the seasons.

He's also not enjoying this as much as I am because he's a CFO. This is first quarter - AKA Panic Time for anyone with fiduciary responsibility in an organization.

The night of the storm, it was glorious. Big fat flakes, alternating with granular, hard pelting snow that piled up and up and up. It was so silent too. No cars, no horns, no traffic or sound, just white silence. Peaceful, and yet eerie in some ways too.

Yesterday and today, we're all playing in it. One of the good things about this snow business is that, unlike summer's intermnible heat, it's ephemeral. Even today, some melted. Not much, but it dropped of the branches in great lumps, freeing the trees from their pendulous burdens. The sky was bright, bright blue, which meant everyone was out assessing the "damage."

We have company because one of our friends has no power so she and her daughter were guests of Chez Adams last night and probably tonight too. We watched the SUPER BOWL!!! complete with Who Dat! and The Who. Then Julie and Julia as a nightcap. Fab movie but after all the shoveling we were all drooping with fatigue from all the fun exercise.

This exercise element is one of the great things about winter. If I need to lose weight, I wait till winter. So much more pleasant, you see to get lots of exercise - akin to running a marathon yesterday! - without sweating like the proverbial pig.

Yep. Now you know. The truth is out. It's why I love winter. I hate to sweat. Ugh.

So, I say, bring on the SNOW!!!!

What's your favorite snow sport? Skiing? Sledding? Tobagganing? Sitting inside looking out?

What's your favorite summer sport? Our Aussie pals are in the depths of a heat wave, complete with (double ugh!) high humidity. Like to swim? Boat? Play baseball, Suz? Grins.

If you were snowed in with your hunk-o-man for four days would you go shovel or do other things? Grins. Now, that's kind of a no-brainer, isn't it?

What's the record snowfall for your area?

Are you ready for the Winter Olympics!!??