Before I started writing, many years ago, I didn’t consider myself a particularly crafty or artistic person. I crocheted a little, never deviating from a pattern. I did some needlepoint and embroidery—again, always following the instructions to a T.

Then I started writing, and all my hobbies fell away. I was a writer. I was creative. The more I wrote, I swear, the more my left brain talents began to atrophy. Math? I was a straight-mathlete throughout college, and now? Dear Jesus, don’t show me a tenth-grader’s homework. Can’t help there.

Still, I thought writing was my ONLY talent. Until, I accompanied my mom to her art group meetings, and decided I’d try something crafty. Suddenly, I’m painting (not well, but not putridly either); I’m making jewelry; I’m collaging, doodling… If it involves color, I’m there.

Now that writing is work (hey, it’s what pays the bills, so yes, it’s work), I have to do something else to wind down. Sometimes, art and jewelrymaking takes too much brainpower, so I needed another hobby. An outlet that didn’t require me to prep a thing, didn’t require me to count stitches. I found POTHOLDERS.

I know, it’s damn weird. But finishing up one of these suckers while I watch some mindless boob tube show to let my brain relax is sooooo soothing. And I found it by accident. I bought a grab bag of arts and crafts supplies at the local thrift shop, and inside the bag was a small plastic kid’s loom. I remembered having one when I was little, and feeling nostalgic, I went online, found some nice cotton loops, and made my first potholder. Then I discovered they have metal, “grownup” potholder looms that are twice as large, and I had to have one. See the potholder below? It’s the second I’ve made on the new loom. Pretty isn’t it? For this one, I didn’t follow a pattern. I just put colors next to each other that I liked and repeated the pattern once I got to the middle. That’s all the thinking it took.

So, tomorrow AM, I’ll be back at it hard, editing for a friend. I hope to wrap her story up tomorrow, because I have another last minute edit job arriving. I’m hoping that, by Tuesday, I’ll be writing my own dang pages, but in the evenings when I’m ready to let my mind rest, I’ll be sorting through my stash of cotton loops, making myself happy with color combinations that please my loopy brain.

So, I shared my weird hobby. Do you have something you love to do that fills that “resting brain” prescription?

On 9/11, I worked in a large insurance company in San Antonio, Texas. I passed by a break room and saw a large group of people standing beneath the televisions mounted on the wall, watching coverage of some disaster in New York. I was on my way to a meeting, but I paused. Everyone was quiet, whispering. I heard someone say, “I think a small plane crashed into one of the trade center buildings.” As I stood there realizing a tall skyscraper was on fire, another plane entered our view, and we all watched horrified as it crashed into the second tower.

Meeting forgotten, I stood, listening as news people tried to make sense of what we’d all witnessed. When the towers leaned and began to tumble down, I knew what had happened was intentional. That something profoundly ugly and cruel had just occurred.

Over the following days, like so many others, I couldn’t look away from the coverage—the people running away, gray and covered in dust, of people leaping from windows, of the stories of the first responders who’d been inside those buildings, trying to move people to safety, of the person who’d stayed with a wheelchair-bound friend in a stairwell… So many horrible/wonderful stories.

At the time, I was still in the National Guard. During my unit’s first weekend together after the attack, we reviewed what it meant. What we had to prepare for. Another war was coming.

Today, eighteen years later, I remember all of that like it was yesterday. It’s one of those days that remains forever emblazoned on my mind—like the days JFK, Martin Luther King, Jr., Bobby Kennedy, and John Lennon were assassinated—like the day I watched the moon landing, although my feelings while watching that miracle of technology and perseverance left me feeling light and hopeful for the future rather than somber and angry. They are all seminal moments, ones you remember what you were doing, and who you were with when you first heard…

I think of the first responders who arrived to search for survivors. Of the dogs with their booties, who suffered from finding so much death that men lay down in the rubble to give those dogs a joyful “win”. So many heroes who suffer to this day.

I remember. Do you want to share your memories?

Not much of a post today. My dd is over to help get the house ready for my mom. She had back surgery on Friday and is coming home today. We’re happy because all seems to have gone very well. She had crumbling discs, and the doctors went into her back and “roto-rooted” away the debris which had caused her pain for years.

After we finished getting things right for mom, we descended into the basement to the craft room where Kel worked on her Cricut, and I worked on some bracelets. Here are a few I finished:

Of course, as always happens when I make bracelets, I ended up giving some of them away. I made a lovely rosewood and lavender quartz bracelet as well as one just like the red one above to my dd. I gave the second red one to my aunt when she admired it. So, I’m ahead just two bracelets in my efforts to build inventory for my Etsy shop. At this rate, it will be a very long time before I can re-open. 🙂

So, now we just wait. Mom will be back soon. My sister, Elle James, stayed with her at the hospital throughout the ordeal. I had the fur-babies to take care of—five of them. I had to sleep in mom’s bed where they all join her at night, and she gets up to walk them two or three times a night. So, yes, I’ll be happy when everyone is home and mom is well! LOL

Hi, my name D. V. Stone and I want to thank Delilah for having me here today. Like many of you, I wear different hats. Wife, mother, grandmother, author, and full-time medical receptionist. It’s a busy life for all of us and trying to keep up with chores and work can sometimes suck the life out of a person. No, I don’t have the cure. Sorry. But there are things that I do to help keep the sanity and balance.

I love to cook. I love to camp. Not on the ground mind you, we have an RV. Bonus! It has an outdoor kitchen. Why do I bring this up? I’m learning to cook over the open fire.

Recipe

These are called Hobo Bags.

I sprayed the foil with non-stick spray and then added seasoned chicken topped with potatoes and corn. A pat of butter, twist them shut and cook for about 45 min. No muss. No fuss. No dishes to clean up. You can do it on a grill or in the oven, too.

Camping reminds me of the old ways. Maybe you remember when you were a kid, unexpected dinner guests. Whoever was at our house got fed. “Mom, can fill in the blank stay for supper?” Could be heard from a lot of houses, including ours. Especially popular with my husband was finding out what his mom was making and then getting himself invited to a friend who wasn’t having a veggie-centric meal.

Since I live in the suburbs, daily shopping is a waste of time and gas. Also trying to eat healthier is hard in a grab and go situation. So, what are some of the things a busy person can do to

I keep a pretty well-stocked freezer and pantry of basics. I’m a big believer in semi-homemade. That means things like a rotisserie chicken is a staple in my house. Dinner, then sandwiches, and finally leftover pieces tossed with some frozen vegetables and seasoning gives me a great lunch for work. Onions, garlic, and peppers are always in the fridge.

In my local market, I found this huge bag of stir-fry and tossed out the sauce because of how much salt is in it. If you have some chicken or frozen shrimp and a few spices add some liquid and you’ve got a tasty meal. I’ve used wine, chicken broth, and I discovered a jalapeno peanut butter which cooked down adds a kick.

Later this year I have a book coming out titled Rock House Grill. The story is about a restaurant and characters with hopes and dreams. I get to combine several things. Classic Rock, cooking, and medical. I used to be an Emergency Medical Technician, and Shay, my female lead character, dreams of being a chef.

What about you? What can you pull out of your magic hat at a moment’s notice? Even better, what do you do to keep sanity and balance?

About the Author

D. V. Stone is a multi-genre author of two independently published books. Felice, Shield-Mates of Dar is a fantasy romance. Agent Sam Carter and the Mystery at Branch Lake is a mid-grade paranormal. Recently, Rock House Grill, a contemporary romance has been signed with Wild Rose Press. She also hosts Welcome to the Campfire where each week she interviews authors about not only books but their life. You may pick up a recipe or two there.

Born in Brooklyn, D.V. Stone has moved around a bit and even lived for a time on a dairy farm in Minnesota before moving back east. Despite her wandering, she always considered herself a Jersey Girl. She met the love of her life and moved, this time to Sussex County. Her husband, Pete, is a lifelong Sussex County man. They share their home with Hali a mixed breed from a local shelter and Baby a small gray cat who bosses everyone around.

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Not trying to channel Joan Rivers, but can we talk? I feel that I need to have this conversation. Anytime a story begins, “See, what had happened was…” Yeah, you know the ending isn’t a pretty one. So, before I begin, grab a drink and sit back for this tale of cosmetic horror.

Now, listen, I’m not one to beauty shame anyone. By no means am I a beauty guru, but I do like to look cute. (Or at least, I like to pretend that I look cute.)

Listen, I have a problem, not unlike many women. It’s not one that is discussed in polite company, but let’s get real. It happens. So, I’ll just throw it out there in all my shame. I’m a sweater. There, I said it. My grandmother tried to convince me that ladies don’t sweat. They perspire. Gurl! That’s a bunch of bull. I pump out sweat like a human Niagara Falls. Sorry, Grammy, but sell that elsewhere. And you know what? I don’t give a rat’s pahtoot about all these dainty deodorants in their all-too precious packaging and artsy logos. They don’t do diddly-squat to prevent my pits from being soaked. But that I can take. Here’s what I can’t—a runny foundation. OMG!

So, here is my tale of woe. For much of my life, I’ve been a drugstore beauty type of gal; that is, until, I grew sick of these companies taking my shades off the market. I understand that companies need to update and progress with the times. I get that consumer wants and interests change and evolve. But seriously, can the replacements not be crappy or, at least, easily found? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind. Read the rest of this entry »

I spent the day far away from my desk. Why? Today was the little one’s 6th birthday, so, of course, I had to be there for ALL the festivities.

She’s a lovely little girl: smart, pretty, kind, and she has a bohemian soul like her “Nina”. For her party today, she made her own list of invitees, which included four little ones like herself and the rest were the teenaged friends of her older siblings, because she considers them her best friends as well. Of course, they all came.

She may have been the center of attention, but everyone had fun. The little ones pinned the tail on the pig (the sixteen-year-old thinks a pig is more fun than a donkey, and since she provided the drawing…).

Everyone played Twister, although the little ones played in the first round and the teens in their own…

Everyone came away with a prize, so no one begrudged the little one her day…

Nina scored big points for a kitchen set with sink/oven/microwave/pots and pans and food! We ate pizza and cake, and I had to come home for a nap before posting this… yawn…

I hope your day was just as much fun.

Okay, so I’m late posting this. I’m doing it anyway. I hate leaving blanks in my blogging calendar. I already had two this year, the first in four or five years, but April followed some pretty gritty family things, so I’m excused, right?

Let me tell you how yesterday got so FU’d, because I know you want to know what a day in the life is like with me. And even if you don’t, this is my blog, so I get to tell you anyway. 🙂 And after I tell you my sad story, I’ll tell you about the new release! Yay!

So, yesterday, I was playing the good grandma. My dd and SIL are in Virginia at the moment, so I have the two teenagers to ferry back and forth to football and volleyball practices, as well as “play dates” at the community pool with their friends. The boy told me he HAD to be at the football field at O-five-thirty because they had some special deal and had to be bussed. So, I was up at 4:30 to make sure he got his own ass out of bed (he’s a teenaged boy, he needs more sleep than Sleeping Beauty). I woke him, took him to the school, and we sat. The field was dark. I asked him to check his schedule again. “Nina, it says we have to catch the bus at 6PM.” I must have given him bug-eyes, because he handed me the phone and said, “See?”

WTF do they teach kids in school? I took a deep breath and instead of punching him in the throat told him “PM” indicated that he had to be there in the evening.

Soooo, back home we went. I stayed awake, because the girl had to be at volleyball at 8 so I woke her at 7, because, even though she doesn’t need as much sleep as Sleeping Beauty, she still NEVER hears her alarm.

So, I went back in two hours to pick her up. Back home, I worked on edits that were due yesterday. Took me all my time, up until I had to head out to drop the boy at his bus, then the girl and I caught a craft club meeting in town, then back to the school to pick him up. By the time I arrived home again, I was too tired to post a freaking blog, and I went to bed.

So, that was my shitty day.

I didn’t have time to tell you about my new release, but here it is. Only, it’s not really new if you picked up a copy of Stranded: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology. It’s one of the thirteen stories in that sexy volume.

However, if you haven’t read my story and want to drool over the cover, you are very welcome and encouraged to pick up a copy of the short story, all by itself! It’s just $0.99 or FREE to KU subscribers!

Quincy Down Under

A bounty hunter following a lead is trapped in an underground-bunker-turned-beauty-salon with a pretty beautician…
Get your copy here!

P.S. If you’ve read the story, and want to help an author out, post a review! I’d be forever grateful!