Do you love witches?
Do you wish you were a witch?
ARE you a witch?
Whichever . . .
A witty, spectacular, and timely tale of modern-day witches waging war on the patriarchy, from fan favorite Kirsten Miller, the author of The Change and Lula Dean’s Little Library of Banned Books.
There are places on earth where nature’s powers gather. Girls raised there are bequeathed strange gifts. A few have powers so dark that they fear to use them. Such a place is Wild Hill, on the tip of Long Island. For centuries, the ghost of a witch murdered by colonists claimed the beautiful and fertile Wild Hill…until a young Scottish woman with strange gifts arrived. Sadie Duncan was allowed to stay.
Five generations of Sadie’s descendants called Wild Hill home, each generation more powerful than the last. Then, in the aftermath of a terrible tragedy, the last of the Duncans, once prophesized to be the most powerful of their kind, abandoned their ancestral home.
One of them, Brigid Laguerre moved to California and turned her dark gift into fame and fortune. Her sister, Phoebe, settled on a ranch in Texas, where women visit in secret for her tonics and cures. Phoebe’s daughter, Sybil, has become a famous chef. Seemingly powerless, Sibyl has never been told of the Duncan bloodline.
Now Brigid, Phoebe, and Sibyl have been brought to Wild Hill to discover their family legacy. The Old One, furious at the path mankind has taken, has chosen three powerful witches to turn the tide. The Duncans will fulfill their destinies—but only if they can set aside their grievances and come together as a family.
And it never seems to be for "our" convenience.
How's your day going so far?
Here's mine.
A bill due tomorrow requested payment via QR Code.
No.
OUR money.
I think we should be able to choose how we make payments.
This is happening more and more and it's annoying.
THIS company wants you to use . . .
This OTHER company wants you to use . . .
So.
I called and requested they do it my way.
You would have thought I asked them to come paint our house.
In this instance, I needed to use our banking institution debit card.
Which was DECLINED.
Because I didn't get permission to spend this much money in one transaction.
So.
I made the phone call, jumped through security hoops and received the needed permission.
Called back to make the payment and now I'm gonna have a gummie.
And for the record - Fuck QR codes and Data Centers
It is a gorgeous day in our mountains
All the fans and monster dehumidifiers are gone!
I'd post pics, but there's nothing left down there to take pictures of.
So.
Here's some pretty pictures from our yard instead.
Don't you love October?!
Latest in the saga . . .
The walls are still holding an unacceptable level of moisture, hence the fans now added to the monster dehumidifier.
Estimated time of removal?
A minimum of three days.
Check back . . .
"I will say this for country people, or anyway the ones I know: If you call for a party, you’ll have it. On a week’s notice or two days, I don’t care what it is, a family supper or a cornhole game in the backyard. Give people a reason to get together, and they’ll be there with a covered dish. Mickie remarks on this because she knows people in more places, friends she’s kept up with from her UT days. She says they’re forever whining on Facebook how it takes four months for three people to agree on one day to have lunch together. When she speaks of it, I remember that too, from college. That the only answer to How are you? was Too busy! Now I live among people who might have been up before dawn with a sick calf, or have hay to mow before rain gets here; they might work mornings at the dollar store and nights cleaning floors at the hospital and have to pick up their kids from school in between. Or take somebody to a court date. They might like you a lot or very little. No matter. If you run into each other pushing your groceries to your cars in the Kroger parking lot, they’ll stop and talk to you. Busy is not a boastful thing. It might even be taken for a weakness. It’s not our way to make a show of telling friends we have something better to do. We are each other’s better thing."
The deconstruction crew arrived yesterday, were here again today, and will be back tomorrow.
Sick of the world news?
Me, too!
Here's an idea - download the new Louise Penny!
Clearing the air of some misinformation going around. Not EVERYONE has been disappointed or upset about Louise Penny's recent novels. Speaking only for myself, I enjoyed them. AND, I actually do know other people who liked the books that so many are claiming to have disliked to the point that they'll never read another. Bless your hearts. Your choice, of course, but why on earth assume the whole world hated them when that is simply not true.
A recap of what's happening at our house since the water heater flood.
The water mitigation people have come every day to check moisture levels since they put the monster dehumidifier downstairs.
Last Friday they came in a small truck and moved some of the smaller stuff out.
It's all going down the mountain to Hickory. The original idea about having a pod placed here on-site was scratched. The off-site facility is being used instead.
This morning these guys showed up with hopes that everything will be hauled off today.
Phttps://www.funeralfolio.com/obit/mark-a3zv
I did not have an opportunity to meet Mark Pryor.
Almost though.
We just missed one another in Paris a few years ago when he was there, along with his family, doing a book signing. Donald and I were arriving as he was leaving.
But I always felt sure I would have an opportunity to meet him a some point. Somewhere.
If not Paris, perhaps a Bouchercon. Although, Bouchercon, truth be told, has sort of fallen off my travel plan radar recently.
He was extraordinarily gracious when I dropped him a note being as much of a fangirl as a gal can be. If there's anything I do enthusiastically, it's fangirling.
This was after reading his first Hugo Marsten novel, The Bookseller. I was immediately hooked and have since gleefully read every word Mark Pryor has written.
We sporadically exchanged a few emails over the years. I loved his work. We shared a love of Paris, and politically aligned opinions.
Although I did not know him personally, I feel sad to know the world, specifically his much adored family, has lost a good man.
If you haven’t read any of his Hugo books ( who is also a good man), now might be a good time to try one – The first in the series is my recommendation. The Bookseller.
and lift a glass to Mr. Pryor while reading it.
For those of you still following our water heater disaster news, I have no real news.
The mitigation man comes daily to measure the levels of water remaining in the walls and there is still water in the walls. That's all I know.
No moving on to the next steps of removing everything until this issue resolves itself with the help of the monster dehumidifier.
In the meantime, Donald and I are slowly packing up breakables into boxes we're bringing upstairs and storing in the sunroom. Since I am a magpie kinda person drawn to pretty things, there are a LOT of breakables.
BUT.
Aside from all that - along with the madman living in our White House (and, seriously, the man is, IMO, certifiably fucking nuts. And dangerous).
I have a book to recommend.
Those of us who read a lot have learned over the years that certain books just somehow find their way into the lives of the readers who need them at the perfect time.
I read across all genres, but I tend to stay away from books and authors who advertise as "laugh out loud funny."
I enjoy laughter as much as anyone, but, to me, many of a these books just seem to try too hard.
I prefer a more natural approach to a laugh - a line the writer surprises you with; one you just did not see coming.
This book, THE MIDLIFE BIRTHDAY CLUB by Rachel Hanna, did make me laugh out loud. It also had me dripping tears down my face. Sometimes both those things happened all on one page. And i loved it all.
