This post was from a few years back. I thought you might enjoy pictures of the flowers. The trumpet vine isn’t quite as lush as it was then and my hollyhocks have left me. We had a nice rain yesterday–in fact, it was raining as I left church but we didn’t mind. I heard comments […]
Jun 22, 2018
The Fly Who Came to Stay
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The Fly Who Came to Stay by Blanche Day Manos, who takes full responsibility for this goofy piece In my neck of the woods, everything gets ornery in the summertime. Critters, humans, even bugs are easy riled. There’s nothing like the heat of a white-orange sun blazing down from a copper-colored sky to make […]
Sep 23, 2017
Ending of Summer, Beginning of Fall
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This post from last year seems to be exactly what I’m feeling this morning. Summer’s Afterglow The melody of autumn is played on muted strings, A symphony of wind and trees, the song September sings. The rhythm of the autumn rain is somnolent and slow; From softened skies, a lullaby in summer’s afterglow. –Blanche Day […]
Aug 4, 2017
Delicious Supper, Lively Conversation,Tree Frogs
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Last night, Matt and Dawn invited me over for supper. Those of you who know my daughter-in-law know that she’s an excellent cook. I gladly accepted, hopped in my SUV, and trundled right over to the younger Manos’s abode. The sky was overcast and rain was in the forecast. “I hear thunder,” I said, as […]
Aug 3, 2017
An Enthusiastic, Heart-Warming Welcome
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The enthusiastic welcome you are giving By the Fright of the Silvery Moon is heart-warming. Thank you. It is exciting to know that Ned and her latest mystery is going to so many homes. If you enjoy the book, an honest Amazon review would be mighty welcome too. Yesterday, my talented publisher, Pen-L.com, sent […]
Jul 17, 2017
The Long, Hot Summer Night
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It was the kind of night when squirrels jump from branch to branch just to feel the breeze, when fireflies dutifully light up a few times then crawl under a cool rock. This mystery writer turned on her borrowed box fan (thanks, Dawn) and, knowing it was useless to try writing, attempted to forget the […]
