Book Magic
The great news is that the book magic has returned. I fall in love with writing, particularly when I can sit down, and the story flows.
The great news is that the book magic has returned. I fall in love with writing, particularly when I can sit down, and the story flows.
I understand the snowdrops are blooming at the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh, Scotland. I’m so jealous.
The holidays are always fraught with activity. The busyness seems to take over every moment as we plan and execute a fabulous celebration and gifts for friends and family. I love the holidays and their magic. The busyness, not so much, but it’s a swift happening as we slip into the New Year and the throes of winter, so I can’t complain.
When I’m very homesick for Scotland, to close my eyes and remember the time I was there, sort of a visual, waking dream. I do have an ache in my heart for Scotland. Many people don’t understand, and I’m not sure I understand myself, but there is a definite connection.
Perhaps it is because I was raised on Andrew Wyeth’s paintings, with each brushstroke, use of color, and style drummed into me since birth, but I adore the moody, cloudy December days.