Even as I navigate the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, I can’t ignore the niggling prick in the back of my mind that insists on reviewing the memories of things done and left undone this past year. Recollections of new friends found, old friends rediscovered, and loved ones gone, but never forgotten. It is a time for merriment, reflection, and laughter. In that spirit, I want to share a few observations of life that a friend sent me. The author is anonymous. Hope they bring a smile.
LESLIE BUDEWITZ: ‘Tis the season for sharing books we love with people we love, right? I’ll be sharing mine at the annual Kalispell Art Walk Holiday Stroll, signing books at Montana Marie, a delightful shop on Main Street carrying work by dozens of local artists. (You may remember it as Think Local.) The Stroll is Friday, December 1, from 5-8 p.m. Come by and try a sip and bite of something delicious, and browse everything from candles to terrariums (terraria?), all locally made. And take home signed copies of my Food Lovers’ Village Mysteries and Seattle Spice Shop books, all made for you in a little house in the big woods outside Bigfork!
DEBORAH EPPERSON: The home of a Texas friend flooded during Hurricane Harvey. Debby lost almost everything, including her beloved books. After months of hard work work and many tears, Debby recently was able to move back home. But I think the Montana Women Writers would agree that a home without books is unthinkable. So several MWW authors stepped up and Debby will be getting two boxes of new books for Christmas. Thank you Betty, Marie, and Leslie!
In this time of giving, I am giving away Kindle eBook copies of Shadows of Home from Dec. 22-26. Also, Breaking TWIG will be on sale for $0.99 Dec. 22-26, 2017.
Wishing you and yours a blessed holiday season. ~ Deborah
December Book news from Betty Kuffel
I am excited to report Amazon Scout accepted my medical thriller Deadly Pyre submission to the contest for publication. Their acceptance came in yesterday!
Hello Betty Kuffel,
Your Kindle Scout submission has been approved for launch! Your campaign for Deadly Pyre will launch on December 8, 2017 12:00 AM EST and last for 30 days.
This will be the URL for my Kindle Scout campaign once it launches:
The Kindle Scout campaign for Deadly Pyre will launch on December 8, 2017 12:00 AM EST and end on January 7, 2018 12:00 AM EST!>
Please click on the link when it goes live, read the excerpt from my book and vote! This is sort of a Dancing with the Stars for authors. Votes for the book count in the final determination of a winner.
If you’re interested in the Scout contest, here’s a link to a blog post written by Debbie Burke, long time member of Authors of the Flathead whose thriller won a Scout publishing contract and is now available on Amazon. Deb’s website: http://wp.me/p7O7QO-6A
JOIN MONTANA WOMEN WRITERS
& INVITE YOUR FRIENDS
Holiday Tea and Book Sale
Downtown Columbia Falls at Business Locations
Saturday December 9th 1-3 P.M.
Montana Women Writers will be participating in a community event in Columbia Falls on Saturday December 9th. Authors will be at numerous businesses greeting shoppers. They will be selling books and serving tea with cookies.
Betty Kuffel and Patti Dean
TEA KETTLE CAFÉ
NORTH FORK PIZZA
COLUMBIA FALLS LIBRARY
Marie Martin and Becky Palmquist
ODD FELLOWS COFFEE SHOP
VAQUEROS (formerly Los Caporales)
Open- Need another author
BAD ROCK BOOKS
FOR MORE INFORMATION CALL NAN MCKENZIE 406-892-0055
By Author Nan McKenzie, November 10, 2017
My dad, Ed McKenzie, was forever looking for a way to make money; it was always in short supply in our house.
He began to cut Christmas trees, beginning in early November, and my sisters and I would often go with him to help. He would walk through the trees with an axe in hand, and with just a few blows, (sometimes only one) would cut down those he thought were the right ones. We would come behind and pile the trees up, spearing our hands down through the biggest limbs at the end, then hauling six or eight or more at a time down a hill, or up a heavy rise, taking them to the big truck.
One time, my sister Sue started screaming and running, slapping at her shirt and pants. A hornets’ nest had been jostled loose by all the action around it, and they were letting Sue know how unhappy they were about it. She was stung several times, the hornets working their way into her clothes and hair. Dad picked her up and ran to the truck, taking her coat and pants off on the way, hornets following the two of them. He was able to get most of the little stinkers off her, but our day was done—she had to go to the doctor’s office in Whitefish, about thirty miles away. Sue cried all the way there, never able to stand pain of any sort.
When we had enough to fill the back of the truck, Dad would climb in, and we girls would toss the trees to him. He’d try to separate them to save time when we got to the tree yard.
We had a tree yard at our house, and after several days of cutting and hauling, the yard would begin to fill up. He’d reload the trees on the truck, counting twos, fours, and so forth, meaning the length in feet of the tree, up to eights and tens. They’d be taken to tree lots in town for sale, or hauled somewhere exotic, like Arizona or Texas, places where there were no Christmas trees to be had. He’d either rent a lot at the edge of a town or sell them right out of the truck, making enough money to buy gas and food for the trip home.
I loved being in the woods with Dad, feeling the snow falling on my back, the stretch of muscles, marveling at how strong he was. The smell of the trees would almost explode on us when we walked into our warm house, and we could smell them for days afterwards.
Sometimes, he’d let me burrow into the trees and ride in the back on the way home, so cold that I thought my life was over, but relishing the sense of accomplishment, knowing I could help my dad in a significant way.
For years, I became antsy in early November, thinking it was time to cut trees, but Dad was gone by then, snuffed out in a car accident in 1964. I still miss the beautiful trees, scuffling through the leaves in the woods, pussyfooting over the tamarack needles.
Happy Holidays from the author of the Big Foot Series