A Novel Creation www.WatersWords.com

My blog posts are published on Wednesdays. As I write this I am well aware that most of my readers will be fully engaged in family activities the day it appears. Christmas Day.  I actually had a rather convoluted Christmas season. I think that happens more as we age and our children are out on their own.  For the past twelve years or so, our family has celebrated what my youngest daughter referred to as “Thanks Christmas” every other year on Thanksgiving, and Christmas on the even years. All three of my girls are married and have their husbands’ families to consider. It was a plan that worked. Of course there were exceptions. The year Tom died, all three spent both Thanksgiving and Christmas with me. They needed that time together as much as I did.  In 2016 we weren’t together for Christmas either. We had a Disney cruise planned but only two of the families could go. My middle daughter gave birth to a sweet addition to the family that year and couldn’...

December 18, 1971 December 18 th .  My wedding anniversary. Forty-eight years ago on a Saturday evening one week away from Christmas, Tom and I committed our hearts to each other.  We were kids really. I was eighteen and he was nineteen. But our parents approved. We were supported by family and friends, as we stood at the front of Lutz Baptist Church in Florida and spoke our vows. We took those vows seriously. We repeated them to each other every year on our anniversary. We would light our anniversary candle ( You can read  The Candle  story by clicking here ) and in the quiet of the evening, we would say our vows again. It wasn’t a ritual. It was a sweet and tender celebration between the two of us. Every year, since Tom died in 2014, I’ve hosted a caroling party at my house on my anniversary. My family and close friends come and we sing. We talk, share memories, and laugh. We eat Christmas cookies and treats; we visit. And we sing. I often sha...

Many people I know are collectors…of something. I know people who collect books. Others collect salt and pepper shakers or sports memorabilia. Golf balls, coins, stamps? You name it. People collect things that bring them joy. My daughters were collectors. When they were young. Allison collected porcelain dolls. Danielle collected music globes. Kendall collected Cherished Teddies. Pokey Allison grew up, got married, and has two sons. She kept a few of her favorite dolls. Perhaps one day she’ll pass them on to a granddaughter. Or not. Danielle still has most of her music globes, though now they are safely tucked away. She has four young children. Enough said. Kendall married a minimalist. Don’t misunderstand. It’s a quality I admire. She may have one or two of her “Cherished” figures around, but some other collector dropping in on a yard sale benefitted from “drastically reduced still in box” prices.  I understand. You grow up. As a little girl, I col...

At the end of this semester, Cincinnati Christian University (CCU) will close its doors. Many people who know I had the privilege of serving at CCU for nearly fifteen years have asked me how I feel about the closing. Most want me to speculate on what went wrong. They don’t understand how an institution of higher education can suddenly stop being an institution of higher education in the middle of a school year. I don’t fully understand myself so I won’t begin to offer a hypothesis here. What I do know, is that for nearly 100 years, CCU did its job and did it well. There are countless lives changed in this world because of the instruction and charge given to graduates of CCU.  And there will be countless more.  Lives all over the world will continue to be changed in powerful and positive ways by CCU graduates and those who dedicated their time and talent to the school.  This post is to the students who are in the throes of mourning the closing of CCU. To t...

In our culture we talk a lot about being thankful. We strive to be appreciative of what we have and even set aside a day for it.  Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is not exactly a true celebration of the Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth in 1620. Nor is it a true representation of the reported celebratory dinner shared by the English Pilgrims and Native Americans in 1621.  Thanksgiving has come to mean different things to different people: A day or two off of work or school, a home cooked family meal, football, or the start of the Christmas season.  In truth, we should be giving thanks every day.  For everything. When our daughters were young, like many other parents, we gave our girls the opportunity to pray. We all took turns praying at the evening meal. Allison, our oldest was articulate at an early age and was always ready to pray. Our youngest, Kendall offered simple, sweet prayers for the food…if it was something she liked.  But ...

My maternal grandmother made quilts. Often they were created from scraps of fabric left over from other sewing projects. I can remember my mother saving remnants from dresses she made for me and taking them to Grandma.  As a child I would lie on my back under one of grandma’s quilts in the early morning as the sun would shine through the window. I would put my feet and arms up in the air, stretching the cover over me as a sort of tent. I could see all the colorful patterns on the walls of my makeshift dwelling. Sometimes I pretended I was in a cave where my ancestors, the Cherokee Indians had painted colorful markings on the cave walls. At some point, each time we visited my grandparents, Grandma would take me and my mother to one of the bedrooms and one by one show us the quilts she’d made since our last visit. I would trace the patterns on the quilt tops naming the fabric I recognized. “That was my Easter dress!” I would say. Or, “I remember that red material! Mommy...

Several weeks  ago I invited readers to enter a writing contest based on the names of Yankee candles. Today I'm pleased to announce the winner, Ellen Burton of Ohio! Congratulations to Ellen and thank you to all entrants and judges! In addition to a $10 Amazon gift card, Ellen's story is featured below. Enjoy! Seaside Woods  by Ellen Burton Erica stood on the pier breathing deeply. She closed her eyes, imagining the cleansing ocean air filling every space in her body. The sun would be up soon. Erica watched as an older couple made their way up the sandy beach. Few people were out this morning. You could always tell when the school year started. The beach was calm and quiet. Young families were nowhere to be seen.  Erica sighed. If Rob hadn’t left her totally out of the blue six years ago, they might be one of those young families. And then one day they would have been that older couple, simply enjoying each other. Past the hustle and never in a rush....

I'm excited to have my friend and fellow author, JPC Allen as my guest on today's blog. Enjoy! Writing YA Mysteries by JPC Allen I’ve loved mysteries since I first sat down in front of the TV on Saturday mornings to watch Scooby Doo. In the past two years, I’ve had two crime short stories published in anthologies from Mt. Zion Ridge Press. I could have written my short stories from any point of view, but I felt most comfortable writing from the POV of a teen. In the process of writing “Debt to Pay”, a country noir, and “A Rose from the Ashes,” a Christmas mystery, I learned some important lessons about writing mysteries for teens.  Meet Author JPC Allen Teens make great amateur detectives. Stories with amateur detectives have always attracted me because they are the ultimate underdog in mysteries. And I love underdog stories. Who could be more of an underdog than a teen, especially one who isn’t even a legal adult yet. Without the aid of offic...

If you are a regular reader, you’ve noticed the focus of my blog this month has been on my late husband Tom. He died on October 29, 2014.  Five years. Unreal. So please bear with me for one more story. It is as much mine as it is his. I come from a long line of farmers. As a child, I lived on a farm and now I am blessed to live in a house built on a piece of my grandparent’s farm. Tom grew up in Florida. His family raised a few animals but farming wasn’t ingrained in them as it was in my family.   When Tom started working for the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH), his research focus was on preventing musculoskeletal disorders. His inquiries eventually led him to the area of farm safety. He was particularly interested in safety for children and adolescents working in agriculture. I was pretty excited. Finally, Tom was speaking my vocabulary. I even forked over the money to attend a farm safety conference with him. I learned quite a ...