I’ve been married to the same man for 47 years. Yes, we are spring chickens. He became a father maybe before he was ready, but he was thrilled both times. We had two children when we were young, and then quit having kids when we were still young. One of each and the bedrooms were filled up, so we quit. But they were the light of our lives. We didn’t have a penny to our names, and they were the entertainment. We learned to be parents. 
Today he is a grandfather and still hanging around with us. The kids have kids and lives of their own, but we see them as often as possible. 
Tomorrow we’re cooking hamburgers and hotdogs (his request) with as many of the family as we can get here. Everyone is busy. I’ll bake him a cake in the morning and share it with the other fathers in our family. Cake from a box and hotdogs – nuthin’ but the best! But it’s what he wants. He’s easy to please when it comes to food. That is good since I’m not a world renown chef.
He mowed the grass today and we’ll cook the burgers and dogs on the grill. Not much has changed in the last 47 years. He still likes the simple things.
Happy Father’s Day to the father of my children. And happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there.
What are you doing for Father’s Day?
My guest this morning is Laura Boon. She hails from Sydney, Australia, though she’s lived all over the world. Laura is a fellow “Rose” writing romance for The Wild Rose Press. Please help me in welcoming, Laura Boon!
I recently e-published a novella with The Wild Rose Press, Witches’ Cliff, along with several other very talented authors. So far I count 11 novellas set at the same Vermont inn all with different stories to tell. I’m sure there are more to come.
I’ve gotten off the track of life-long learning in the last few weeks, but I feel I learn something new every day. So, to get back on track, I wanted you to know I am trying to learn to write poetry. Now that’s putting myself out there to say something like that on the internet where nothing ever really goes away. But I have some help. I have the Enid Writers Club and one poet in particular, Jim Arnold, who is always trying to encourage me to write poetry. He has even gone so far as to write prose to show that old dogs can learn new tricks.
Spring in Oklahoma! If you’ve lived here long, or even if you haven’t, you know why Oklahoma was given the nickname “Tornado Alley.” Some years are worse than others. The above picture is a free stock photo, not my own. I am not one of the Oklahoman’s who run out to video tornadoes as they sail over. I have great respect for the giants. The funnel pictured above could cause damage, but at least it isn’t a mile wide like some have been and it appeared with enough daylight to see it, not in the dark.
Erin grew up on Keystone Lake and the little town of Mannford, Oklahoma in northeast Oklahoma. It was an idyllic life for her and her mother until her father died on a cross-country trip. Then the two became even closer. Her mother owned a flower shop until the big corporate grocery store with their own floral department ran her out of business. Then she went to work for them. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. But Erin’s mother raised her daughter in the small town where she was born and along with help from her sister, a lawyer in Tulsa, the women not only survived but thrived.
Home from OWFI conference I am exhausted. I always feel this way after spending a weekend with like minds from all over. It was exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. I renewed old friendships and made some new ones. It’s Sunday and I am supposed to put out my blog. I will try, but I am tired. 
I’ve always been active and able to do what I wanted. I know I’m not getting any younger but my allergies have been terrible this year. I’ve had a stopped-up ear for over three weeks now, gone to the doctor, gotten a steroid shot and changed my allergy medications. Something needs to give. I want to work in my garden!
When The Wild Rose Press decided on another collaborative writing event for their authors, I thought what fun to give a topic and everyone write something different for it. I was right! The idea was to take a setting with a few main characters and all the different authors, with all their different writing styles and genres, and have a ball with it. And we did.
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. Oh, that’s already been done. But it sums up this weekend fairly well. It was the weekend of the biannual Heavener Runestone Viking Fest at the Heavener Runestone Park in Oklahoma. I’ve been a part of this event for several years now but this year Mother Nature did not approve. I should have asked her first.
On the way back the GPS took us over unfamiliar territory in the deluge with skies so dark it looked like midnight and we were almost involved in a wreck on a two-lane rural Arkansas road.
It would be too cold and muddy to set up at the festival for those of us not as young as we used to be. Cold, wet and disillusioned, once again we avoided the mountain. We met for breakfast and the cousins headed back toward Texas and we packed the car for home. I hate that I missed it, but I don’t think nature meant for me to be there this year. I miss the forest and telling people about the magic of the place. 
Peggy Chambers "Views from the Hammock" site 