Happy New Year!

           Let’s start this first letter of the New Year the way I normally start my yearly letters. Are you ready for Letter Facts of 2025?

          I started writing and sending letters in 1998. That was twenty-seven years ago.

          Sometime in 2014 I started a blog site and almost everything I’ve written since then is posted there. 660 of them!

          “Almost?” you query.

          The story of Kat’s death isn’t posted because someone said it’s too personal. I may go back and edit out some of the details that would make identity fraud easier but until then, it’s not posted.

          The other story I removed was also the death of a loved one because it hurt one of the relatives. I never want to hurt anyone with my stories.

          Last year I wrote forty-seven letter blogs, missing five weeks. I always tell you why I miss a week in case you’re curious as to what can keep me from my weekly tradition. I missed once in April because I’d undertaken a job that needed to be done so I didn’t have the time. I missed once in June because I didn’t have anything to write about. In August I missed a week because my bestest, oldest, and most beautifulest friend from West Virginia was visiting. October I missed twice because we’d gone west to visit family.

Those forty-seven letter blogs add up to a full-length novel at 105,932 words. And when I printed them—with all 1,561 pictures—it came out to 401 pages.

I did a much better job this year putting the letters in a binder within a day or so of printing them so it wasn’t such a big job to do all at once like it was last year.

This New Year starts with two sick old women. Two! That’s right.

          “Who?” you ask.

          My peeps on the morning love note chain already know. I’m one and my Miss Rosie is the other. We’re both sick.

I started getting sick Saturday a week ago. My symptoms were more annoying than severe and I didn’t go to the doctor.

Miss Rosie, on the other hand, went to the doctor and has been diagnosed with bronchitis.

I’ve mostly stayed home, choosing not to help spread this thing, but I did have to go out one day. The cats were almost out of food so I had to go to the store. But I didn’t share my germs. I wore a mask. And if anyone looked at me funny, I just coughed.

We were behind a truck that had a scrolling sign in the back window behind the driver’s seat.

“What was it saying?”

River Lover. That’s all. Over and over.

“Why?” I asked Mike, but he didn’t have a guess.

We were almost home when I got a shot of a hawk in a tree.

          As I’ve already told you, I was sick, but not that sick. I had a cough and a slight sore throat. I had some body aches but no fever. I had a general feeling of... what’s the medical term? Ah yeah—blah.

          I tackled a project I’ve been wanting to try for a while now.

          “What’s that?” you ask.

          I know you guys like to know where my creative bent has taken me and this time I ventured into the field of bookmaking. Making sketchbooks not taking bets.

          There are several methods to bind the books. You can glue them or sew them. I wanted to sew mine. There are several methods of sewing and the first one I looked into is called a Coptic stitch. I did NOT like the look of an exposed spine.

          I found a Long Stitch. Even though the spine is closed, the stitching is on display. It can be decorative but not what I wanted.

          I wanted a more classic book look. And that lead me to a French Link. I started assembling my sketchbook in this manner only to discover you needed an even number of holes for it to work. I had five. That’s odd.

Back to You Tube.

I ended up doing a Link Stitch.

          My first book I made with paintable wallpaper. It can be used for acrylic paints, crayons, markers, or maybe even ink. I don’t know — I didn’t try it. But I do know it doesn’t work for watercolors.

The second one I made I used a cheap watercolor paper, not 100% cotton but watercolor paper nonetheless.

The third and fourth ones were made with paper made to cover holes in walls. It can be used for just about anything. The watercolors don’t sink through but do take a really long time to dry.

          I didn’t get too fussy making my books. The pages might not be all the same size — wait a minute. There’s no “might not” about it. The pages are all different sizes. Some stick out a little more than others and I could’ve trimmed them to all the same size, but it didn’t bother me so I left them. The pages might not even be true. Which, let’s be honest, they’re definitely not.

The signatures don’t all line up but that won’t affect the way they work.

          The outside is cardboard covered with scrapbooking papers.

          Having cut the papers and cardboard myself means I can make them in any size and for any purpose. It was a fun project. And I say with affection — they’re charmingly wonky and full of character.

          My creativity dried up with the advent of burning lava taking up residence in the back of my throat Thursday night. Every cough was pure agony. I gargled with salt water, took NyQuil and went to bed.

          I woke up at ten minutes to five, well ahead of my alarm, and had to get out of bed. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t cough — well, I could cough but the agony of it doubled overnight. I started a regime of gargling with warm salt water and taking DayQuil on schedule. And that helped. An hour or so later I was feeling much better.

          The advice from my friends and family (who all love me) came pouring in.

          “Rest and stay hydrated,” was by far the most common.

          Some chores wait for no man — or woman. Critters had to be fed, I did a much-needed load of laundry, made lunch, and washed dishes. Then I spent the afternoon in the recliner watching movies.

          Saturday was off to a bit of a rocky start but not as bad as Friday morning.

I’m going to stay home one more Sunday and hope to be completely better before another Sunday rolls around. I don’t like to miss church service with all my Christian peeps but, by the same token, I don’t want to be the cause of anyone else getting sick.

 

I’ve had duck guts all over my floor several times this week. I don’t even mind cleaning it up. Do you know why?

“Because you love them?” you guess.

I do. I love the girls. But that’s not the reason.

“Why, then?” you ask.

Because it means someone was having fun tearing it up. Even though I do toss the ball for them a couple of three times a day, the rest of the day there isn’t much else for them to do but sleep.

“Don’t they play with each other?” you wanna know.

Bondi and Raini have been playing with each other a little more in the last couple of weeks and I love seeing that—as long as Raini remembers not to be too rough.

And now, for the pictorial part of your letter blog, more pictures from our October trip.

          

          Never fear, there are still lots more pictures from that trip.

With that, let’s call this one done.

          Remember, don’t ever forget, that you’re all in my heart.

 

          Done!

Two!

 

          Two!

          That’s how many eagles I saw sitting in a tree.

          “There’s two eagles!” I exclaimed excitedly to my handsome mountain man as he zoomed along at sixty miles an hour.

          I didn’t have my camera up and ready so I missed the shot altogether.

          “You have to turn around! It’s a special picture because they were sitting side-by-side! Pleasepleaseplease?” I implored with no breath between the pleases.

          Mike frowned but he turned around. He slowed as we came to the spot and I took as many shots as I could. They were pretty far away and this is the best one.

          I cropped it and sharpened the image.

          And that, my loves, is the most exciting thing to happen to me this week!

          My beautiful, feisty, red-headed neighbor saw two eagles, too — but not at the same time. Whether it was the same eagle twice or two different eagles, we’ll never know. Once it was sitting on the dead tree that extends over the creek and Miss Rosie saw it from her dining room window. The second time he was flying down the creek. It’s really cool that we have an eagle living and hunting in our area.

          Seeing two eagles in the same week isn’t the only thing Miss Rosie and I have in common. I guess we were on the same wavelength in another aspect, too.

          “Why do you say that?” you wanna know.

          The short and simple answer is cardinals.

          Miss Rosie and I exchanged Christmas gifts. She gave me a whole bagful of wonderful gifts and a plate load of homemade Christmas goodies to boot. It was surely a five-pounder! Not what the treats weighed, but how much more I’m going to weigh after eating them all! They’re so yummy. She even included an extra big bag of homemade peanut butter fudge. She knows it’s my favorite.

The Christmas card she gave me had cardinals on the front.

          And my gift to her was also cardinals.

          “Do you recognize the piece of wood I painted it on?” I asked her.

          “No.”

          “It’s your old picnic basket. I assume it was your mother’s too, since her name is written on the underside.”

          “Yes it was,” Miss Rosie said, flipping it over. The writing is faint so I pointed it out to her. She flipped it back over and as she gazed at it (and maybe her mind flooded with all the memories that picnic basket held), her eyes welled up.

          “Thank you,” she said.

          While I was there, Lamar showed me the quilt his sister had made him from handkerchiefs. It was his birthday gift but wasn’t done by his birthday. Isn’t it just gorgeous and fun!?

          Miss Rosie is absolutely the queen of cards. Whether it’s a birthday, holiday, get well, or thank you card, she’s prompt in getting them written and sent out.

          Mine arrived in the mail this week. I read and re-read her sweet words.

          Thanks for making my eyes tear up and my heart fill up with joy and gratitude. The painting would have been treasured on any format, but you — dear and special you — have made it so much more by putting it on the lid of my mother’s picnic basket. It touched me deeply and is so special to me. Thank you.

          Gosh, golly, gee-whiz! Here I thought I was the only one who thought I was special!

          Speaking of my paintings...

          Mike’s cousin Dennis gave his son the framed painting of Charli for Christmas.

          “They love the picture!!!!” Dennis gave it four exclamation points.

          I finished the portrait I was working on. I did deepen the shadows but I could maybe deepen them even more. Remember I said I wasn’t looking for photorealistic, just recognizable?

I took it to church with me on Sunday.

“Don’t say anything,” I warned Mike.

“Like what?”

“Like, ‘Do you recognize him?’ or anything like that. I don’t want Pastor to have any clue that it’s someone he should know. I want to see if he recognizes him.”

“Wanna see what I painted this week?” I asked Pastor Jay.

“Sure.”

I stood in front of him and flipped up the cover of the block of watercolor paper.

A grin spread across his face. “Wow.”

“Do you know who it is?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s my dad.”

And that’s who it is.

“He’s here this week if you want to show it to him,” Pastor said.

That was an unexpected and pleasant surprise.

I did show it to Pastor’s parents and they both knew who it was. In fact, everyone knew who it was; even the kids knew!

Mission accomplished!

          “What are you working on now?” you ask.

          I’m working on a commissioned piece, but I can’t show it to you yet.

          “Why?” you ask.

          Well, I’m not sure it’s done, for one thing. For another, because I haven’t shown it to the buyer yet. I’ll show it to you when I can give you an end to the story and let’s leave it at that. Just know that I’m working on something and I have at least two more projects rattling around in my head that I want to try.

          “What projects?” you ask.

          You’ll have to wait and see.

 

          I only have two more photos to show you this week. This handsome guy, waiting and watching for his people to come out of Walmart.

         And Raini and I went out and took a sunrise picture for you. She doesn’t know what all the fuss is about but when she sees me get my camera, she takes off for the door!

I had a visitor at my feeders on Saturday. I was putzing around, getting things ready for the dinner after church the next day, when I crossed in front of the window and caught a glimpse of a hawk lifting off from one of the branches under the awning. He definitely wasn’t here for the birdseed. He was hunting the smaller birds that come to my feeders.

Several times this summer I’ve noticed feathers scattered around the yard. I always blamed the cats. But now I’m thinking it’s entirely possible he’s been visiting all along.

And, with that, we could call this one done, even though it’s not even four pages long.

          “Show some more pictures from your trip,” I hear Miss Rosie say in my head.

          Let’s do that.

          These photos were taken on our trip to Missouri and Kansas this past October.

          This is a stretch of highway we always recognize and call Elmer’s Hill. Our old friend used to have a towing business at the top of the hill and made a living pulling trucks up the hill in the winter. As you may well imagine, that was many years ago.

          We didn’t see a lot of buggies but I happened to take a picture of this one.

          A little farther down the road, I see this gal standing in the driveway. Do you think she’s waiting for him?

          They ran strings from the overhead lines for climbing plants. Is this allowed?

          I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them flip the round bails up on end like this before.

That would be a yummy place to work, don’cha think?

 

          Let’s end with another sunset photo from that trip.

          Until next time, remember, you’re all in my heart.

          Done