It’s very hot and unusually dry here in Kentucky, but this is nothing compared to what the folks in Colorado Springs are dealing with. The Christian Writers Guild is based there and I have friends there. The small town of Manitou Springs at the base of Pike’s Peak was evacuated. I have visited Manitou and it’s a beautiful place. I remember walking through the town and stopping to taste some of the waters from the springs. Please pray with me that lives and homes will be spared.

I’ve been watering my lawn, trying to keep the grass from browning out, but I think it may be a losing battle. We need some of the rain that Florida is getting. I’ll bet they would be glad to share!

On the other hand, this is the perfect weather for reading a good book (hint—hint) under a beach umbrella or maybe while sunning by the pool. Maggie and I will be in lawn chairs watching the sprinkler mimic rain. You can bet there will be a book and a glass of iced tea close at hand.

Blessings to you dear friends. Stay cool.

P.S.  I just went outside to turn off the water to the hose which I had on a drip under one of my trees, and came face to well—not quite face—with a skunk! Good grief. I ducked back inside and missed the spray, but things don’t smell very good at my house right now. Plus, Maggie is barking her little head off and I can’t get outside to turn the hose off. Guess I’ll wait awhile and try again.

My newest novel, Skip Rock Shallows, has been successfully launched thanks to Central Baptist Hospital Gift Shop, Kentucky Soaps and Such and The Bluebird, and Joseph Beth Booksellers. Each of these venues graciously had me as a guest during the past few days. I’d like to especially thank, Carla Conley, Angela Correll, Michael Cruikshank and Brooke Raby for facilitating my appearances, and Chef Bob for the divine meal on Thursday night. Thanks also to the Danville Advocate Messenger and to the Lexington Herald-Leader for including news of my events. It’s always a pleasant surprise to be turning the pages of my newspaper and see myself staring back.

My favorite part of a book signing is the Q&A at the end. You might like to see a couple of the frequently asked questions and my answers: Q: “Why do your book titles have a water theme? (creek, springs, falls, run, pond, shallows.”) A. “The first book, Troublesome Creek, was inspired by a story my grandmother told me about the terrible flash flooding of a normally docile creek during which a baby was swept away. The first title set the tone for the next books. Also, I spent many happy hours of my childhood playing in a creek on my family’s farm.

Q: “What is your writing style? Do you outline your chapters?” A: “To quote William Faulkner: ‘The primary job that any writer faces is to tell you the story.’ That’s what I do; I start at the beginning and write to The End. I write in story form. I don’t outline, do character studies, or write random chapters. My books are character driven.”

I’d love to answer any questions you might have about writing. Have a happy but not so hectic week.

We all deal with momentous problems: Health issues, the plunging stock market, who to choose for the next president of theseUnited States; So why is it that the small issues bedevil us so?

Case in point: Because of my snail slow internet service I decided to switch carriers—seemed simple enough, especially since the commission driven salesman promised me the moon and a couple of stars for one low price.

A very nice and competent young fellow worked diligently all of Tuesday afternoon to install my new connections. I was pleased. My internet speed is much better, my cable television is fine, the only ant at the picnic is that I had poor to no telephone service for 5 days.

First they told me (even though I was the purchasing agent on the contract) that I was not an account holder because the previous service was in the name of my husband. Funny, they’ve been accepting my checks since 1999, but they couldn’t switch on the phone until I personally went to their local office with two forms of ID. I suppose they thought I might be impersonating myself.

So, I drove to the office and stood in line so that I could tell the person behind the keyboard that my husband is deceased. You wouldn’t think that would be so hard after 7 years, but it is. The nice lady said, “No problem, you are connected.”

For the next few days, I had service on and off, mostly off. When I tried to call Insight from my cell phone I was disconnected or told by the person on the other end of the line that they couldn’t hear me. Yesterday my phone was dead as a doornail. So—I skipped church this morning and took my cell phone outside to hopefully improve my range.

Once I got a technician on the line he gave me instructions about repairing my problem (mine—not theirs.) It all had to do with modems and batteries and crossing my fingers and toes while whistling “When the Saints Go Marching In”.  I must have sounded a little tentative because there was a repairman at my door within 20 minutes. Now, that’s my kind of service.

Turns out the modem they had previously installed was defective. Whew, that’s one problem solved. Now my water heater is leaking, I’m sure a thoroughly chewed wad of bubble gum will fix that right up.

For some good news: Maggie and I sort of rescued a dog in distress yesterday. We were walking when the dog from across the street came running to us. I forget what breed he is; he’s wide bodied and low to the ground and has long hair. Generally speaking, Milo does not like Maggie. He growls if she comes within 6 feet of his property, but Milo is like Maggie in that he is as well cared for as a spoiled child. He is never off his lead unless his parents (excuse me—owners) are out with him.

So Milo comes tearing up to me, completely ignoring Maggie, and jumps up to gently put his front paws on my knees. His furry face said, “I’m in trouble. Can you help?” Maggie and I took him home and I rang the door bell. No answer, we went around back. The door to the sunroom was ajar. I said, “Milo you go in.” He did, but gave me an aggrieved stare. I looked in through the open door. He was standing at his empty water dish. I laughed and thought this is a very smart dog.

Maggie and I went back across the street and fetched Milo some fresh water. He seemed satisfied when I pulled the door closed.

Milo’s family had gone shopping. They thought the door was shut. Evidently, Milo knew just who to ask for a little help in a time of trouble. I wonder if he’ll growl at Maggie the next they meet.

I just love dog stories with happy endings. Don’t you? Indeed it is the little things.