Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 01-14-2021

Dear Reader,

Looking for some good news? Today is my January Chocolate Chip Cookie Giveaway. I love to bake, it's relaxing--actually a kind of therapy for me, so please lend a hand and enter today. Are you a coffee, milk or maybe like one past cookie winner--a Dr. Pepper cookie dunker? Whatever your pleasure, get ready to dunk and munch, if you're one of this month's four lucky cookie winners.

You'll love my cookies, but you have to enter the giveaway for a chance to win. To enter the drawing and to see photos of past winners (and the latest funny dessert I made for my grandchildren) click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Get ready to dunk and munch!

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise these titles deserve your attention:

(Fiction) ALL THAT WE CARRIED by Erin Bartels

(Fiction) THE WRONG KIND OF WOMAN by Sarah McCraw Crow

(Fiction) UNFETTERED JOURNEY by Gary F. Bengier

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

This month's Penguin Classics book is Romance in Marseille, by Claude McKay. Start reading and enter for a chance to win a copy.

Dear Reader Column 01-13-2021

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Melanie Benjamin, says, "I live in Williamsburg, VA with my husband and children, I mean, cats. My previous books included the New York Times Best Sellers The Aviator's Wife and The Swans Of Fifth Avenue. My new book, The Children's Blizzard is my seventh historical novel."

Melanie would love to hear from you. It's always such a pleasure to hear from readers. You can reach her at: melanie@melaniebenjamin.com

My Life in Cats
by Melanie Benjamin

First cat I loved: Angel. A black stray who adored me. She also adored eating birds and may have been the victim of poisoning by a neighbor who loved birds more than cats.

First cat who should have had a movie made about him: Sammy. Sammy was a long-haired dishrag of a cat who let me dress him up in doll's clothes. My brother and I loved Sammy passionately. Then one day Sammy didn't come home, and for a couple of months we mourned him. Until the miraculous day when he showed up at our front door, skinny but happy. Had my brother and I not been smothering him with hugs, we might have noticed a startled look on my mother's face. Decades later, we found out the story: My mother hated Sammy because he ate rabbits, and one weekend she made my father drive him out to the country and abandon him, miles and miles away. But he found his way back, and my parents were so stunned they didn't have the heart to do anything but accept him as the miracle cat that he was.

First cat I owned as an adult: Mickey. I got Mickey after an excruciatingly bad break-up, pouring all the love I couldn't give anyone else into him, and he accepted it with the good graces of a cat who knows he's landed in clover. Mickey lived a long life, even getting to know my sons until he passed on, still the bemused recipient of a household of love.

First cat my children loved: Beauty. Beauty was a rescue we got when my sons were toddlers, and she didn't like me or my husband or really anyone but my oldest son, who she would follow around like a puppy.

First cat who is an Instagram star: Loki. Another cat who knows he has landed in clover, the obsession of two Empty Nesters who are not yet grandparents. He has a companion named Luna, and the two of them have the record of the most photographs ever taken of a pair of cats. Loki is more the aloof, regal type who tolerates our affection, but Luna likes to curl up and purr against my chest so loudly all the troubles of the world vanish.

They don't take the place of our children, but shhhh--please don't tell them!

-- Melanie Benjamin

Welcome Melanie to the book club, melanie@melaniebenjamin.com

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

UNFETTERED JOURNEY (Fiction) by Gary F. Bengier

Email me at gary@garyfbengier.com to win one of ten signed copies of my new title... Dare you stretch your heart and your mind with something truly different, a cross-genre novel combining thrilling action, adventure, and a love story? "Unfettered Journey" is the near-future story of an AI scientist who seeks to create true robot consciousness. He leaves everything behind to find answers. But a mysterious woman on a personal mission interrupts his search. Fighting unjust forces, he is swept into an evil plot that neither can elude.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on UNFETTERED JOURNEY to read more and to email author Gary F. Bengier, you'll get a reply.

This month's Penguin Classics book is Romance in Marseille, by Claude McKay. Start reading and enter for a chance to win a copy

Dear Reader Column 01-08-2021

Dear Reader,

The quality of writing in the 2020 Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Today's Honorable Mention piece was written by Mrs. Dorothy Mitchell. Thanks Dorothy for sharing your story with us.

Never Too Old!

Last year at the age of 73, my 92-year-old, sharp Aunt gave me a call. She was inquiring about me finding new friends or a new love interest. She felt that I was too "young" to be alone!

My sister, who had lived nearby, would be moving out of state. My husband had died and my sons have their own families in other states. Though, I have been active with craft projects, book clubs, hiking and genealogy pursuits; I had made no real friends here in Florida. Just enjoy calling and writing to old friends and family.

My Aunt felt that was not enough!

My persistent Aunt suggested getting involved with the senior center. I have a hard time accepting that I am a senior! However, I decided to go and ask for a tour of the place. A wonderful, caring woman was available to show me around. She had me join a group called 'Friends Connection.' People that are in similar circumstances. I reluctantly agreed!

To my surprise, I found that there were more men in the group than women. All were very welcoming.

However, being rather shy, I would leave immediately after the meetings. Others were making plans to go out for coffee and further socialize. One day, I lingered a little longer. One of the men came up to me and asked about my life. It seemed that he was very popular with everyone. At least two of the women had invited him for lunch, and had asked that he drive them to an appointment. Therefore, I thought his friendship would be fleeting!

However, I was attracted to him. I was impressed that he held doors and pulled my chair out for me. Once I told him that I was planning on visiting a local museum. Just wanted to go by myself to explore. Bill then asked if he could meet me there and then go for coffee? It all took off from there! This year, we decided to rent a house together and get married!

You never know what life has in store for you. I learned that sometimes you need to get out of your comfort zone and take a chance on a new adventure! Maybe fall in love again!

Mrs. Dorothy Mitchell
Honorable Mention, 2020 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 12-24-2020

Dear Reader,

Years ago, I tried my hand at writing some holiday poetry for readers--an amusing version of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, and now it's become a tradition at the book clubs.

Okay, I admit it's a bit hokey, but it's really kind of a catchy little number once you start reading it. There's a syncopated beat throughout, and if you throw in a little sing-song rhythm, you'll be smiling by the end.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas at the Book Clubs

'Twas the night before Christmas and in every house
All good book club readers were clicking their mouse.

They'd hung all their stockings, decorated their trees
And now it was time to sit down and see
What their email had brought them on this Christmas Eve.

A five-minute break to read a good book
Was just what they needed, but oh my--look...

When they opened their email, no read could be found.
"Oh no, we're afraid Suzanne went out of town.
Could she have forgotten to send us our read?
How could she do this in our time of need?"

The readers all panicked, they shivered in fright,
They pined for their emails and settled in for the night.

"Could we have misplaced them? Did we hit the wrong key?
Did it go in our deleted files?" Oh such misery.
And then in a flash, with a stroke of a key,
One by one, they discovered their Christmas Eve reads.

Their eyes how they twinkled, they laughed and they smiled
And they settled into their chairs to read for awhile.

Their hearts were delighted, they felt just like kids,
But it's still such a mystery where that email had hid.
Was it there all the time and they just didn't see?
Or did Santa step in and do a good deed?

Good boys and girls are on Santa's list
And good book club readers he vows never to miss.

It's been a long night, time to climb into bed,
So they shut down their computers and laid down their heads.

But in the quiet of night, before things came to an end,
They heard, "Thanks for reading with me,
It's so good to read with friends."

Happy Holidays. I wish you peace, good health and joy.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise this title deserves your attention:

(Fiction) WILD FIRE by Kristen Ashley

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

Dear Reader Column 12-21-2020

Dear Reader,

Peppermint sticks and grasshoppers make the perfect holiday pies.

When I was growing up every December my mother would make two pies to take to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Red and green desserts--perfect for Christmas dinner. Peppermint Stick Pie and Grasshopper Pie.

Two recipes that have never failed me.

PEPPERMINT STICK PIE

1 chocolate cookie crust
24 large marshmallows
1/2 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
6 drops peppermint extract
6 drops red food color
1 cup whipping cream
2 T crushed peppermint candy

(This time of year you can easily buy a chocolate cookie crust in the grocery store to save time and it's just as good. Or you can make your own.)

Heat marshmallows and milk over low heat, stirring constantly, just until marshmallows are melted. Remove from heat; stir in vanilla, salt, peppermint extract and food color. Refrigerate, stirring occasionally, until mixture mounds slightly when dropped from a spoon.

Beat whipping cream in chilled bowl until stiff. Stir marshmallow mixture until blended, fold into whipped cream. Pour into chocolate crust. Refrigerate at least 12 hours. Just before serving, sprinkle with crushed peppermint candy.

CHOCOLATE COOKIE CRUST
(if you want to make your own)

Heat oven 350 degrees. Mix 1 1/2 cups chocolate wafer crumbs and 1/4 cup melted butter. Press firmly against bottom and side of ungreased 9-inch pie plate. Bake 10 minutes. Cool.

GRASSHOPPER PIE

1 chocolate cookie crust
32 large marshmallows
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup creme de menthe
3 T white creme de cacao
1 1/2 cups whipping cream
Few drops green food color
Grated semisweet baking chocolate, optional

Heat marshmallows and milk over medium heat, stirring constantly, just until marshmallows are melted. Refrigerate until thickened; stir in liqueurs.

Beat whipping cream in chilled bowl until stiff. Fold marshmallow mixture into whipped cream; fold in food color. Pour into crust. Sprinkle with grated semisweet chocolate. Refrigerate until set, at least 3 hours.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Happy Holidays,

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

WILD FIRE (Fiction) by Kristen Ashley

It seems I can't leave the Chaos Compound. But when I met Dutch and Jagger, Keely and Black's boys, the brothers born of the man who was the heart of Chaos, and raised by the one who was the soul, I knew their stories had to be told. I started with Dutch, and he broke me down, and then he fixed me up. I'm so very glad Georgie came into his life. He needed a woman just like her. Now you get to read how he found her.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on WILD FIRE to read more and to email author Kristen Ashley, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-17-2020

Dear Reader,

The quality of writing in this year's Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Today's Honorable Mention piece was written by Nancy Bader. Thank you very much Nancy, for sharing your story with us.

Cheap Is as Cheap Does

Floridians don't need a clock to tell time. If the summer skies open up with a sudden deluge so intense you half-expect to see drenched cats and dogs falling from the sky, you know it's 3:00 pm.

Only, in our family, we didn't call them "deluges." We called them "Jaslow Carwashes," an eponymous designation in honor of my Dad. I won't say that Dad was thrifty or a penny-pincher. No, he was downright cheap. In the more than 60 years that he owned cars, he never went to a commercial carwash, and he never soaped up his car himself. But, if we were in the middle of a conversation at his house and it started raining hard enough, he'd get up, without bothering to excuse himself, open the garage door and back his car out onto the driveway to let Mother Nature clean off the car's surface dirt. If the rain kept up long enough, he'd back my mother's car out, too.

It didn't matter what we were talking about--life, death or taxes, world-altering news or neighborhood gossip--or whether he'd "washed" the car the day before. Any heavy rain warranted a Jaslow Carwash. When I lived in Florida, near my folks, the local newspaper columnist ran a contest to find the cheapest reader. He reasoned that, in a state where the Unofficial State Bird was the "Early Bird (dinner)," there must be some real cheapskates out there. He wanted to find the worst--or the best, depending on how you looked at it. There wouldn't be any prizes. Prizes would defeat the whole idea of being cheap. But you would earn bragging rights.

I told the family I was going to write about "the Jaslow Carwash." Everyone said it was a great idea, except Dad, who couldn't fathom why we thought it implied he was cheap. He maintained that he was just taking advantage of an opportunity.

I submitted my entry, certain that Dad would be named the Cheapest of the Cheap. After all, the story had been circulated so often and so widely that not only did relatives and neighbors talk about going for a Jaslow Carwash, so did friends who had heard the story but had never even met my father.

Alas, victory was not to be. I came in second.

First place went to a couple who, each year on their anniversary, would go to a local Hallmark card store. They'd split up and go to different anniversary card aisles and peruse the offerings until they found a card they thought their mate would like. They would show the cards to each other, kiss, replace the cards on the rack and go home.

They may have earned the right to call themselves Florida's Cheapest Couple, but I bet they pay to get their cars washed.

Nancy Bader
Honorable Mention, 2020 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise this title deserves your attention:

(Fiction) THE DEAD HEAT OF SUMMER by Heather Graham

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

Dear Reader Column 12-16-2020

Dear Reader,

The quality of writing in this year's Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Today's Honorable Mention piece was written by Sheila Painter. Thank you Shelia for sharing your story with us.

I'm a city girl trapped in a country life.

Well, not trapped, exactly. You see, my husband grew up in an old farmhouse 2 1/2 hours south of us in northwest Ohio. Farm life is in his blood. The property has been in the family almost 80 years. After his mom died and his brother moved out, the siblings rented out the house and found a local man to farm part of the sixteen acres. When the renter moved out, my husband hoped to move us in. He knew I wouldn't leave my suburban life: my modern home, nearby malls, theaters, and social groups. So, he carefully broached the subject: what if he fixed up the 130-year-old house with all the modern amenities? Would I consider going down there for a week or so every month?

How could I say no? I reluctantly agreed. True to his word, he made the old homestead palatable for me. As a quilter, I needed a duplicate sewing studio, so we set up a fully equipped one in the dining room. We made the trek back and forth, bringing food in coolers, household items, my sewing projects by the dozen. It became a monthly regular routine, but I still didn't like being in the middle of nowhere. We had to drive thirty minutes to stores, restaurants and activities. The local library was inexplicably closed on Thursdays.

We had our country home activities: he killed frequent bugs and chased out random critters, I sewed my quilts. He puttered in the barns, fixing things. I sewed more quilts. He happily mowed the acre of lawn, I worked jigsaw puzzles and read books. But I was always glad to return to my 'real life' of exercise classes, quilt guild meetings and live theater performances.

And then something shifted. My husband offered to give me a tour of our property. It had been years since I had seen it all, and I had never been in our woods. He hooked up a rustic trailer to his garden tractor, placed a sturdy blanket-padded toolbox seat upon it, and I clung to the cart sides for dear life as we bumped across the 'back forty.'

Over unmarked burial sites of long-gone farm animals, through spongy grass near the old leaking pond, past the once-electrified fence, we surveyed it all. Our tour went on for a long time, and I craned my neck this way and that as my husband proudly pointed out things of interest, shouting to be heard above the rumbling tractor motor. He indicated where an aging tree recently toppled and it had taken him hours to cut up and remove it. He showed me how he had spent over two years of visits to clear a path in the woods and collect long-abandoned rusty metal for recycling. We rumbled past the tree deep in the woods where, with our permission, a neighbor sets up his hunting blind every deer season.

The farm no longer keeps animals. Now the sheep/horse barn is storage and a refuge for wild animals seeking shelter, and he explained the repairs he had made. We examined the old fruit trees on the back lawn, once so stately and bursting with peaches, apples and pears, but now aging out, sparse, dying. The grapevines near the garage no longer yield much fruit either. We saw that the local farmer who rents the crop area had recently cut hay, so it sat awaiting baling. Along with its earthy aroma, birds sang their songs, distant cicadas droned, and the sun warmed our faces. Our senses feasted on the delights of the countryside.

This is our little corner of the heartland where my husband was raised. It's his happy place, and this city girl goes along, because I love him.

Sheila Painter
Honorable Mention, 2020 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 12-15-2020

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author Stephen Mitchell.

About the Author: Stephen was born in Brooklyn in 1943, educated at Amherst, the Sorbonne and Yale, and de-educated through intensive Zen practice. He is married to Byron Katie.

Stephen Mitchell says his gift is to breathe new life into ancient classics. In The Way of Forgiveness, he offers us his riveting novelistic version of the Biblical tale in which Jacob's favorite son is sold into slavery and eventually becomes viceroy of Egypt. Tolstoy called it the most beautiful story in the world. What's new here is the lyrical, witty, vivid prose, informed by a wisdom that brings fresh insight to this foundational legend of betrayal and all-embracing forgiveness.

Please say hello and Happy Holidays to Stephen. Your email will be forwarded to him via his publisher.

Enter today's book giveaway. Stephen has 5 copies of his book, The Way of Forgiveness to give away to 5 lucky readers.

Welcome Stephen Mitchell...

The Swordmanship Exhibition

When I was a young, ardent Zen student, sent out to begin the Cambridge Zen Center, my teacher billeted on us a master of Zen swordsmanship. Two friends of mine set up an introductory exhibition for him at MIT, hired a large hall, and plastered Cambridge with posters.

Sunday comes around: the big day. The exhibition is set for noon. Its climax will be an amazing feat by the sword master: a student will lie supine on the floor with an apple on his bare stomach; a hundred yards away, the sword master, blindfolded, will run toward the student, roll across the floor in a few sword-flashing somersaults, bring the blade slashing down, slice the apple in two, halt the sword a millimeter before its edge touches the student's flesh, turn around, take off his blindfold, and bow to the audience, now in a frenzy of relief and admiration.

At ten o'clock someone discovers that a crucial element is missing: there's no apple in the house. Panic. Pandemonium. The sword master is yelling bloody murder. Zen students rush through the house like chickens at the shadow of a hawk. Furthermore, it's Sunday and the markets are closed. I, calm and confident, take control of the situation. I will drive to Somerville, where there's a fruit and vegetable stand that's open on Sunday. I don't have a car, so my house-mate Kevin lends me his.

As I drive, I am totally focused on my mission. I think only Apple, apple.

Uh-oh, a police siren. Is it me they're after? Why? The courteous policeman tells me I've been driving 30 mph in a 25-mph zone. He asks me for my registration. I open the glove compartment. There, right up front, sits a plastic bag of marijuana. The policeman asks me to take it out and give it to him. He sniffs it and looks at me as if he were a cartoon cat and I a cartoon mouse whose tail is caught under his paw. "Is this yours?" he says. I nod. I don't want to get Kevin in trouble.

The policeman hauls me off to jail. I am allowed one call. I call the Zen Center, explain where I am and why, and tell them to get someone else over to the fruit stand, pronto, bring an apple back to the sword master, then please come bail me out.

The exhibition takes place, complete with apple, to great enthusiasm.

Six months later, my record is purged with hyssop and washed whiter than snow.

-- Stephen Mitchell

Stephen has 5 copies of his book, The Way of Forgiveness to give away to 5 lucky book club readers, click here to enter.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 12-14-2020

Dear Reader,

Your emails are beautiful holiday notes. Thank you so much for writing to me throughout the year. It's the time of year to exchange gifts and in that spirit, I'm giving away three signed copies of my 2010 book, Muffins and Mayhem: Recipes for a Happy (if Disorderly) Life, to three book club readers.

To enter the drawing, click here.

Reader Emails:

"Hello Suzanne, I want to extend a heartfelt and grateful thank you for your dedication and hard work in sharing thoughts, ideas, feelings, and, of course books, with your readers each weekday. You have a wonderful talent in written expression which is open, realistic, and joyful." -- With thanks for all you do, Gail W.

"Dear Suzanne, what a great column [about hand-writing your holiday cards]. I'm Jewish and I always try to find non-denominational holiday cards, or blank ones, as you did, so that I can write a note. It takes much longer, but I figure it means much more than just signing my husband's and my names to a card.

About 20 years ago, I started doing a holiday letter. My cousin always sent the doom-and-gloom letter--who was sick, who had died and who was about to. When she finally sent one detailing her husband's shingles and her grandson's 'accident' in the community pool during potty-training, I decided to start writing a tongue-in-cheek one. I work on it all year, and it has become so popular that, if I don't send it, people call or email asking why.

Like you, I debated doing cards and my letter this year, but then I decided maybe a little levity was called for. This year's letter is definitely the least funny of all the ones I've done, but a couple of people who have already received it have said it brightened their day. Below is an sample of this year's holiday letter, in hopes that it might bring you a smile or two, too."

(Suzanne replies:) Nancy, your holiday letter made me laugh, so I couldn't resist sharing a bit of it with readers.

An excerpt from reader Nancy B.'s holiday letter:

Dear Friends, Wishing you hopefully Happy Holidays from the Land of Let's-Pretend-This-Year-Never-Happened. So far, it's been like looking both ways before crossing the street, and then getting hit by an airplane. It came as no surprise that Dictionary.com chose 'pandemic' and "Collins English Dictionary" chose 'lockdown' as their respective 2020 Words of the Year. And for a made-up word, consider Coronacoaster (noun): the ups and downs of a pandemic. One day, you're loving your bubble, working out and baking banana bread, and the next you're crying, drinking gin for breakfast and missing people you don't even like...

"Suzanne, your newsletters have been a year-round Christmas present for me, and one for which I am especially grateful this year. I get up at 6:00 to feed the cats and then go online, and you're almost always in my inbox waiting for me. I'm as anxious to read your column as I am to see what book you're promoting each week. Happy holidays, and may the new year bring you all good things--starting with a vaccine." -- Regards, Nancy B.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

Congratulations to Carol B., Ann B., and Darlene H., the winners of this month's Chocolate Chip Cookie Giveaway.

And congratulations to the winners of The Anne of Green Gables Devotional by guest author Rachel Dodge: Karen C., Kathryn D., Gretchen B.

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE DEAD HEAT OF SUMMER (Fiction) by Heather Graham

Casey Nicholson opens a shop in the French Quarter using her understanding of people to read tea leaves and tarot cards. She's not a medium, but while visiting an old cemetery, she is stunned when a ghost appears to her, begging for help. The departed woman is desperate to ensure the safety of her daughter and her sister--both of whom appear to be on a murderer's hit list. But trying to do the right thing brings Casey to odds with the striking Special Agent Ryder McKinley of the Krewe of Hunters--and secures her place on a murder list.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE DEAD HEAT OF SUMMER to read more and to email author Heather Graham, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-11-2020

Dear Reader,

The quality and fearlessness of writing in this year's Write a DearReader Contest was outstanding. Today's Honorable Mention piece was written by Barbara Parker. Thank you so much Barbara for sharing your story with us.

You Can Send It Where?

Have you ever wished you could just start over? Did you ever think your life was boring? Same address, same phone number and yes the same old routine for over 2 decades. Yet, be careful what you wish for because you just never know what will happen. For nearly 25 years at the same job, my husband seemed to be in a middle aged slow motion routine. He was unhappily thinking ahead to the next 10 years or so to retirement with the same mindless, yet somewhat comforting job.

In an idle conversation one night, Clarke announced he was applying for a new job. What's that honey? Suddenly, he had my full attention and not just the left ear. He sounded excited for the first time in a very long time, new job possibility, new people and what's that dear...we have to move where??? Clarke was a traditional person, he didn't like change. Yet, he was willing to leave his hometown, childhood friends and his comfortable, yet now boring job for something brand spanking new all in the space of two months time. Oddly enough, I was the clog in this turn of events. Fifteen years ago, I might have been on board with this idea. Now, suddenly I was not on board. Let's just say I had become comfortable in my two decades old boring routine and "liked" things just the way they were. Thank you very much for asking. Despite the two vastly opposing opinions, interviewing occurred, plans were made and the move took place.

At first I thought it was my wifely duty to try and be positive and believe all would work out. Most, if not all family, and friends figured I'd fall in line sooner or later. Clarke even tossed aside that idea that this was only temporary and we could visit as often as I liked.

It was doing one of these visits that I decided that I would rather remain behind. Now the phrase his, mine and ours is very much present in our conversations. Just like thinking of what item is in what location and where does the cat go this month and on and on. By the way you can send this at....wait where do I live again? Sometimes there really is no place like home, again.

Barbara Parker
Honorable Mention, 2020 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.