Holiday plans didn’t go as planned.

I intended to head south for Thanksgiving to spend it with my mother and older son and his puppy. My older son made the journey from Alabama to South Carolina, but I decided to stay home and keep my germs to myself. This cold–I refuse to think of it as anything but–lingers. It’s par for the course. I get sick with upper respiratory issues, after a week the cold descends into my chest, then I cough for a few more weeks. It happens every time. Just in case anyone cares, no, I don’t think it’s C19. I have not had the one symptom that practically all C19 victims profess: a loss of taste and smell.

So, I stayed home and watched sappy-sweet Hallmark movies. Took a nap. Cleaned stalls. Snacked. My husband brought home a plate of leftovers from his family’s Thanksgiving gathering. On Black Friday, I made soup in the crock pot with turkey leftovers. (I hoped my husband didn’t notice the lack of celery. We didn’t have any and I forgot to buy some.)

My oldest brother is once again a grandpa as of November 25. This makes his second grandchild. The baby, a boy, was born four weeks early, weighed 7 lbs., and is 20 inches long. Pretty darned big for a preemie. The newest member of the family is doing well. Mama had some complications, but is reported to be doing all right. 

(No, I don’t pester my own children about reproducing. They’ve got enough going on in their lives without that.)

I’m still not writing. I’ve got stories swirling in my head, but not the impetus to filter them through the keyboard. I don’t know whether this has to do with a lack of creative spark, general discouragement, or something else. It’s probably a mix of factors that contribute to my hiatus in production and sussing out which are responsible is about as helpful as picking lint from one’s navel. It really doesn’t matter.

The 9th Annual Christmas Bazaar in Toledo, Ohio was postponed until next spring. I can’t say I was surprised. Assuming the nation recovers its collective mind and realizes that we can’t stop a virus, 2021 promises to be a busy year. I’ll be doing some traveling in the region. As for public gatherings and the pandemic, I’ll jump off the soapbox right now.

More disappointing news: my younger son cannot visit over Christmas. He called to let us know that the military forbade travel. The entire base is on lockdown. I haven’t seen my boy since my father’s funeral and miss him terribly. Fingers are crossed that we’ll get to see him in July.

The next few weeks will be disjointed and irregular, expected for the peak holiday season. I wish you well.

Daughter of the Dark Moon 

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n nWorlds fear the powerful, ruthless, and cold-hearted Unseelie king. Deposed and his kingdom conquered, Uberon answers the call of a young human woman’s soul and claims her as his mate. Corinne’s clever mind captivates him, her compassion intrigues him, her beauty enchants him, and her body stokes his libido like nothing else ever did or could. n nDiscovering that myths and legends really are based in fact, Corinne soon learns her fate as the Unseelie king’s chosen mate and the consequences of fae immortality as she adapts to a new world and her relationship with Uberon develops. She revels in Uberon’s passion and shoulders the burden of power and responsibility beyond anything she ever dreamed.n n n nn n n n

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Excerpt 

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n​“You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice low, quiet, and calm as though he declared nothing more momentous than the state of the weather. He gestured at his plate with his fork and added, “This is good.” 
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n“Glad you like it,” she replied in a dry tone and wondered why she felt no danger in his presence, especially following his strange declaration and understanding her own vulnerability alone with a stranger in a remote cabin. “You do realize that I have rights and freedom of choice. You can’t just claim me as your property.” 
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n“You’re weary,” he said between bites as though she’d not spoken. “When you’ve finished eating, go to bed. I shall clean up.” 
nDirecting an annoyed glare at the handsome brute, Corinne said, “You are sleeping on the sofa.” 
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nHe nodded, not seeming at all disturbed by her assertion of personal autonomy. A frisson of excitement—or terror—tingled up her spine. She met his mysterious silver gaze and, strangely again, felt no fear. This man meant her no harm, despite the weird and disturbing claim of possession. 
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n“Uberon?” 
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n“Yes?” 
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n“Why are you here?” 
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n“Because you’re mine.” 
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nThey finished the simple meal in silence. Uberon ate the other half of her fillet.n

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Twin Moons Saga

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Every so often I stick my foot in “it.” I did it twice last Thursday on LinkedIn. What was my crime?

I expressed an opinion contrary to the prevailing narrative of the “woke” liberals who took objection to it. Expressing a contrary narrative apparently invites attack, although I don’t know why I’m to blame if supposedly intelligent people cannot read for comprehension.

(Yes, I’m aware that using the term woke liberals may be taken as an insult. It’s meant as one, and it’s also the best term I have for the people described below. But then, they modify conservative with racist, because, according to them, one can’t hold conservative values without being racist. Fair’s fair, folks.)

Here’s what happened. A lawyer–someone blunt and opinionated and scary-smart whom I follow–posted a disturbing video of a white woman confronting her Black neighbors with ugly (and false) accusations seasoned with racial epithets. That lawyer mentioned systemic racism.

OK, before you get your panties in a twist, my response did not deny the existence of systemic racism. I don’t think it’s nearly as prevalent or pervasive as the political left would insist, but that’s beside the point. (I’m not going to digress by getting into political viewpoints specifically.) My response stated that all the “isms” were alive and well and that everyone has biases. I then included an example of having known a stallion that preferred dark mares to light mares. (Getting him to breed a pale colored mare was a challenge.)

Two people, of course, took exception. The first accused me denying systemic racism. No, the term “not necessarily” does not indicate the absence of something, merely the lack of likelihood. Racism exists, but its presence does not equate to it being systemic. The second accused me of crass insensitivity in comparing Blacks to horses. No, the comparison shows that biases are not limited to human beings. Then I added that person #2’s limitation of his comprehension of racism to the past 250 years of US history made him an idiot for failing to comprehend the vastness of human history.

Yeah, I used the word idiot. I went a little far with that. I lost my cool.

Still, I have noticed, repeatedly noticed, that those who most loudly claim the virtue of tolerance for themselves are the least tolerant of opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints contrary to their happy little narratives. Those who say they are most tolerant show themselves as intolerant … and nowadays they don’t even bother with the exercise of civil interaction. They go straight to attack.

Then I stuck my foot in the muck again. Someone posted a picture of a the cover of a recent issue of Vogue showing a man in an evening gown. Many people commented, cheering it. One man responded that he didn’t like it and would appreciate if those who did wouldn’t shove their views down his throat. The sniping and accusations of intolerance ensued. I forbore responding until one person commented on the supposed utopia of secular humanism: every person should have the right to do anything he or she pleases as long as it doesn’t hurt another sentient being.

I took issue with that, pointing out that such thinking led the way straight to relativism. What I think is hurtful will differ from what you think is hurtful, so whose opinion takes precedence? Religion, I wrote, seeks to establish a firm foundation of right and wrong. That doesn’t make religion always right: God knows religion has been responsible for and used to justify grievous crimes against humanity over the ages. But at least people who have a strong moral code have a solid basis from which they can distinguish right and wrong; their sense of honor doesn’t shift with every wave of public opinion.

Yes, Virginia, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I am a conservative white woman. I don’t apologize for that. If you’re not white, female, or conservative, that’s fine. My ego can handle your difference. I might even find some common ground in your world view upon which to agree. But none of your “woke” protests and accusations of my lack of understanding and utter failure as a human being will change the bedrock of what I believe and reason to be true.

I haven’t just witnessed this on LinkedIn, but on Facebook, too. The vitriol is appalling. The commonly understood freedom of the First Amendment (which is incorrect, by the way) means nothing when someone utters a contrary opinion on a public forum. Forget responses, that might simply say, “I disagree” or “Why do you say that?” No one wants to know why, they just want to pound their viewpoints into the dissenter’s head. They bully to get their way, to be acknowledged right and just and the one true way.

I’m one thin thread away from disengaging entirely from social media, because I don’t need this bullying. I don’t need to see it and I certainly don’t need to experience it again. I’m tired of the virulent cesspit that is social media.

Give me one good reason to continue engaging.