It’s as if we’ve moved to a new house, maybe even like we’ve built a new house – across the country. Ha.
But we haven’t. We just moved back into our renovated house. Anyone who has gone through home renovation knows how it feels. So does anyone who has moved. The amount of work is startling. The dust is startling. The amount of cleaning involved is downright shocking.
And so what? Now that the worst is over, I’m enjoying the challenge. I’m also loving the updates.
Are you the type of person who wants to hang the pictures almost before unpacking or do you focus on the less obvious tasks? Neither my husband nor I worry too much about the surface stuff at first. We’ve moved a lot and we’ve sort of nailed our routine. And each move – because that’s really what this is – is different, with different requirements.
For one thing, we’re not quite finished with updates. There’s going to be a Round 2. At least it should be a lot simpler. In the meantime, my husband is tackling some tasks himself. This “move”, he doesn’t have to worry about setting up the electronics. But he is installing our new stove tonight.
The kitchen cabinets have been cleaned, everything taken out, washed, and put back. Of course, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to purge and rearrange. This afternoon, I plan to unpack some books.
We’ve had more help than we ever imagined. Our family has been wonderful.
But the space has changed in all sorts of little ways and will change a little more before the renovation is complete. There’s still so much to do. Our bedroom hasn’t even been unpacked.
That’s why I’ll be taking a bit of a hiatus. It won’t be for long, maybe a week or so.
At least we know where the pictures will go. 😊
Wishing you all a wonderful week.
Hidden secrets could tear them apart as fast as their passion drove them together.
Welcome to Medieval Monday! I have the honor of hosting Ashley York. For this last week of the spring session, enjoy a "first kiss" snippet from Lachlann's Legacy.
For more more medieval romance, be sure to stop by Medieval Romance Lovers on FB. We can also be found on Twitter, #MedMonSpring21.
For more of Ashley's beautiful work, be sure to visit her website.
Now for the snippet:
He clamped his teeth, then blew a breath, puffing out his cheeks. He decided not to answer her at all. Best if she believed he was asleep. Never had his hands, his entire body ached so, urging him to set aside his chivalry and test the desire smoldering in her eyes. A need she probably couldn’t name. No, it was better to find an experienced wench to see to him. Soon. As soon as they were done here. As soon as they found the silver, returned it to the priory, and were done with this. As soon as he could get Ethne out of his thoughts.
About the book:
An 11th-century highlander must deceive a lovely woman living among outcasts in order to save his priory, but it’s his heart that’s truly at stake…
On the Moray coast in Scotland…
Ethne’s genuine and caring nature makes her invaluable to her brother as his son’s caretaker, but he and his wife treat her as little more than their servant. When she learns their tribal leader would use her chaste status for his own purposes, Ethne plans to escape and reluctantly accepts the help of Lachlann—a handsome pilgrim she only just met at the local faire.
Despite her independent spirit, Ethne feels drawn to Lachlann. Her instincts say his intentions are honorable, but can she trust him with her heart?
Raised by his godfather with few clues to his family’s past, Lachlann values his freedom and the brotherhood of his highlander kin. Disguised as a pilgrim on a mission for the priory, he encounters Ethne, a warm, intelligent maiden whose courage in the face of a loveless marriage awakens an intense need to protect her.
Unfortunately, Ethne is one of the very people he must deceive to explore the cave system containing clues to the lost treasure he seeks. But he cannot abandon her to an uncertain fate—or deny the simmering tension between them.
With religious prejudice running high and both of them facing tests of loyalty, Lachlann and Ethne may realize the only way to fight for their futures is to surrender... to each other.
Get your copy of Lachlann's Legacy here.
Happy Medieval Monday!
I am sitting under our children’s gazebo, enjoying a beautiful morning. I think it’s the fifth and probably last week of our stay here. It’s been lovely. Work – a lot of it – looms in the near future. So does summer’s intense heat and humidity. I’d might as well relax while I can.
So here I am, gazing out at their swimming pool, peaceful and shaded from the morning sun, and at their perfect ligustrum hedge. It’s about four years old, lush, and flowering.
Ours, on the other hand, is about twenty years old, sparse, and it never flowers. I feel guilty.
Ever since we moved into our current home, I’ve rather resented the fact that I have a non-native hedge along the fence. Granted, ligustrum isn’t known to be an aggressive or invasive plant and it is quite the trooper. But it commandeers the water, which stresses my newer plantings, and it does nothing for the local bugs and ecosystem.
Or does it? At the moment, our children’s backyard is still and quiet. But on a sunny afternoon, butterflies flit from one flowering shrub to the next. Not a few butterflies, but a lot. Bees also visit. Squirrels scamper across the hedge, beneath the trees that comprise the greenspace behind their house. Our children’s standard green hedge gets plenty of action.
In contrast, our hedge has gaps, and I’ve never seen flowers. And what have I done about it? Nothing. I’ve only just realized that in almost seven years of living there, I’ve not fertilized that hedge once.
Shame on me. I might not be a fan, but the hedge is still a living thing. It’s still our hedge. It didn’t ask to be planted. It deserves a little love and care.
Our garden(s) will need all sorts of attention once we’ve settled back into our house. I have a list. The hedge wasn’t even on it, but it is now and near the top.
In the meantime, our daughter-in-heart has one rose bush. She mentioned liking our specimen Belinda’s Dream a couple of years ago, so of course I hunted one down as fast as I could. I don’t think Julia has time to give it a moment’s care, but it blooms away for her. That makes me smile. A rose blooming for a rose.
True love is eternal.
Welcome to Medieval Monday Week 13! I am excited to be featuring a snippet from Judith Sterling's time travel romance, Return of the Raven.
For more enticing snippets, be sure to stop by Medieval Romance Lovers on FB. We're also on Twitter, #MedMonSpring21.
For more about Judith's wonderful books, visit her website.
About the book:
Margaret, Lady Ravenwood, is trapped in a loveless marriage and firmly entrenched in the medieval world. Along comes Griffin Nightshade, a historian from the future whose soul resonates with hers. He persuades her to return with him to the 1950s, but heeding her heart means courting danger from a curse that could spell her doom.
Haunted by his parents' sudden deaths, Griffin knows all too well the pain born of love lost. He guards his emotions, but Margaret delves deep and goes straight to the soul. She's hard to resist…and harder to set free.
The heart's desire and history's demands don't always agree. Yet true love is eternal.
Enjoy the snippet:
Realization dawned and struck a blow to his gut. “You saw the future.”
Wordlessly, she nodded.
I was right. I’m going to lose her. Nausea swept through him. “Did you look older in the vision?”
“Not particularly.” She frowned and clenched her hands into fists. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here. With you.”
See last week’s snippet on Sherry Ewing’s blog: https://www.sherryewing.com/blog
Follow along next week on Jenna Jaxon’s blog: https://jennajaxon.wordpress.com/
Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Return-Raven-Novels-Ravenwood-Book-ebook/dp/B08RYD2GW8
Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/return-of-the-raven-judith-sterling/1138556276
Keep me away from the wisdom that does not cry, the philosophy that does not laugh, and the greatness which does not bow before children. – Gibran Khalil Gibran