I LOVE putting together jigsaw puzzles. If you’ve followed my blog for a while, then you already know this. You could say that I’m addicted to them. I find that putting pieces in place relaxes my mind and gives me a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment. Plus, I think they help keep my brain sharp.
I’ve been gifted quite a few puzzles (thank you, Julie–my sister, and several other friends), and I’ve purchased many more. Some puzzles I buy new, however, I love finding them at antique malls, yard sales, and Goodwill. Of course, when I purchase an already opened box, I resign myself to the fact that pieces may be missing. Or better still, will likely be missing! Whenever I get down to the last few pieces in the box, I wonder…will I have them all?
Whenever I put that last piece in place, I do a little happy dance. Not literally, but internally. Lots of joy!
Recently, I came across something I’ve never had happen before. While putting this lovely puzzle together, I kept grabbing a piece out of the box that I swore I could place. The area that had similar colors and design was nearly completed. However, I couldn’t find a spot for the piece, so I’d toss it back in with the other pieces, assuming I’d eventually find where it went.
I finished the puzzle, and that one piece remained. How could that be? I stared at the lonely thing. This particular puzzle had come from Goodwill, so on one hand, I was thankful that all the pieces were there, but where did the extra piece come from? My first assumption was that whoever donated it had inadvertently tossed in a piece that belonged in another puzzle box. But the piece had the design, shape, and texture of that completed puzzle.
I showed the puzzling piece to my husband and even indicated the area of the completed picture where I thought the piece should have fit. He agreed with me. He then pushed it to the exact part of the picture that it seemed to belong. Low and behold, it was a duplicate piece! Is it possible that when it was manufactured, a piece belonging in another box jumped ship and joined my box? Did someone out there purchase a puzzle that ended up missing this piece? Hmm…
So, yes, I’m puzzled. I’m thrilled that I have all the pieces to my puzzle, but I feel badly for whoever was shorted. I’ve had that happen before when I finished a newly purchased puzzle, but in those cases, I accepted that my dog likely got hold of a stray piece and ate it. It can happen! I’ve found half-eaten ones in his dog bed, and that has made me more careful when working my puzzles.
Oddly, I didn’t have the heart to discard my extra piece. When I took the puzzle apart, I kept both identical pieces. I imagine that the next time I put this puzzle together, I’ll smile at my ‘extra’ piece and remember just how puzzled I was about its existence.
I’ve written many posts over the years, and I know I mentioned the Partridge Family at least once in previous posts, but here I am, ready to talk about them again. Soon…
The 70s really were my era. I wholeheartedly embrace those years. I became a teenager during that decade, and I still get all mushy inside when I hear certain songs that remind me of those initially ‘uncomfortable’ junior high dances. I was the tallest girl in my class, and it was nearly impossible to find boys tall enough to slow dance with. It wouldn’t have been an issue if I didn’t mind having a boys face eye level with my chest. At that time, I barely had a chest at all, still… A girl had to set standards! Fortunately, their were two boys tall enough to accommodate by long, lanky form. Thank you, Brent and Terry!
I’ve been listening to a lot of 70s music lately, singing my little heart out, right along with the radio. Thanks to a free trial of satellite radio that I received when I got a new ‘used’ car, I found a station that plays only 70s music. Woo-hoo! This girl is dancing again! Not in the car, but I wanted you to understand my enthusiasm.
I’m surprised how many lyrics I remember. Of course, it helped that I sang in several bands for a while that covered some of those songs. There’s just something about a song that lingers in the brain longer than anything else. I’m sure you can recall certain commercial jingles from ‘way back when.’ Somehow, by putting music to words, our brains retain them better. That comes in handy for opera singers!
All that brings me to the Partridge Family. Since I’ve been listening to the 70s station for about three weeks now, during that time, I’ve only heard one Partridge Family song. I Think I Love You. Yes, it was probably their most popular song, but what about Echo Valley 26809? Or Rainmaker? Or how about Point Me in the Direction of Albuquerque? (Whew! Can’t believe I spelled that right the first time!) If you’re from my era, you’re probably singing those songs in your head right now. Do you have a favorite?
Granted, the only members of the Partridge Family who actually sang were David Cassidy and Shirley Jones, but still…those records shot up the charts! We should be hearing them on all the ‘golden oldies’ stations.
To my utter joy, I recently discovered reruns of The Partridge Family on Tubi. My husband rolls his eyes when he walks in and hears me singing along with the TV. He’s nine years older than me, and he doesn’t share my passion for ‘my’ decade. He’s a Beatles fan! Oh–and Rod Stewart. I like them, too, but they don’t tug at my heart the way the Partridge Family does. Well, maybe sometimes they do. It just depends on the song.
For a time, I tended to flip on the news when I wanted background noise in the house. I’d even listen to it in the car. I like to stay informed, but listening to so much negativity brought me down. I still keep up with current events, but I’d rather ‘Get Happy!’
The older I get, time has somewhat smooshed together. It’s hard to remember some exact dates, so I don’t recall the year I went to Nashville and saw David Cassidy in concert. It had to have been at least twelve years ago. I felt like a kid again going to that concert. I took an old poster I had of him, hoping for a possible autograph. I was so foolish. I left that concert feeling sorry for the man. Women my age crowded the stage, trying to reach him. I was afraid to get close to that mob, let alone lift my poster and pen toward David. The women acted crazy, and it interrupted his excellent performance. It got so bad that he stopped singing and said something to the effect of, “do you really expect me to go home with you? I’m married, you know.”
It broke my heart that he died so young. I wished I could have told him how much his show inspired me in my youth. I was young and innocent (only eight when the show first aired), and at that time all I knew was that I loved their music. My mother searched all over Seattle to find me a tambourine like Tracy’s. Little did I know that her tambourine didn’t actually jingle. It makes sense to me now. They lip-synced after all, and they couldn’t have the sound of an off-tempo tambourine messing things up. Still, I believed it was real back then, and that’s what mattered. A friend and I would put her record-player speakers outside her front door, and we’d stand on her porch and sing along to the Partridge Family. I’d play that tambourine like there was no tomorrow and belt out the words to the songs. I still have the tambourine, but it sits idle. I tried to play it when I was singing with the band, Jambeau, but our drummer told me I was off beat and I needed to let him keep the time. (grin) He made me promise to leave it home! I should have found one that didn’t jingle. At least then, I could have looked the part.
Still, I became a singer, and now I’m a writer. I pour out all the heartfelt songs I once sang, and I weave the memories they provoked into my work. Sometimes, I do actually sing. Music brings memory-packed joy and takes me back to my youth. I may not be up on a stage any longer, but I love sharing my experiences. I hope that this post has taken you back in time. Maybe you were a Partridge Family groupie like me! I just hope you don’t end up being one of those crazed women I saw at that concert. If you are, I do understand. We all want to embrace what makes us happy, and David Cassidy turned many heads. I was too young to have my head turned the way the older viewers saw him. I thought he was cute and I loved the way he sang, but I was thoroughly smitten with Donny Osmond. That’s another story! I got to meet him face to face. Almost got a hug. Sigh…
That’s me with Jambeau in 1992! Our drummer, Ted Williams, could play the bass guitar and drums at the same time. He sang, too! Chuck Borris played the guitar and sang. We had a great time working and singing in harmony at the Coeur d’Alene resort in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, on their floating stage. Great memories with these two wonderful friends! I treasure them and the time we spent bringing happiness to the listeners at the resort.
So, what music takes you back to your best memories? I’d love to hear your comments!
Would you like to know what’s hidden in the Blue Ridge Mountains? Well, if you love a good mystery/romance, you’ll want to read this book! Today, September 19th, through Thursday, September 21st, you can download the eBook for free on Amazon!
Here’s a little bit about the book:
Jason Williams is fortunate to be a stable worker at Biltmore Estate—one of the most luxurious homes in the country. He’s a troubled soul, and he’s hiding something. The obscurity of the Blue Ridge Mountains seemed like the perfect place. However, now that Mr. Vanderbilt, the owner of the estate, has married a woman who brings countless newcomers to the manor, Jason fears that what he has hidden will be unearthed.
Maisy Fulton, a kind and caring laundress, is intrigued by Jason. He’s handsome and dedicated to his work, but he avoids interaction with others as much as possible. He rarely speaks to anyone. She’s determined to find out why, even though her desire to befriend him isn’t well received.
Her loving heart pushes her to persevere, yet she soon discovers that the mystery of Mr. Williams may never be solved. Secrets and lies, heartache and loss, plague their lives and compound their troubled friendship. Only when the stakes are at their highest do their revelations heal the past and forge a path toward an unexpected future.
If you haven’t had the chance to read “His Heart’s Long Journey,” this is the perfect time to grab a copy of “Forsaken by Love,” which is the first book in the three-book series. May 7th thru May 11th, you can get a free eBook copy on Amazon! And don’t worry…book one doesn’t end with a cliffhanger like I do in several of my other series. You’ll be happy to find a satisfying ending. However, I hope it will inspire you to move on to book two and three for the continued story of Vern Harpole. He has some incredible adventures!
This series is based on the true story of my friend, Ann Wood’s, ancestor. Annie told me the story when we met for lunch one day, and she kindly gave me permission to write about Vern’s life and helped me with as many details as she could remember from things passed down through the family.
Vern Harpole was only eight years old when his mother left him on the porch of a bakery in Kansas City. She abandoned him and disappeared. Though Vern was taken in and raised by the kind baker and his wife, Vern still struggled with his abandonment. Once he became a grown man, he felt compelled to go West.
This story tells how he found his true love–who had her own troubled past–and how they supported each other and found a way to move forward together.
I imagine that the title of my blog sparked your curiosity, and that’s why you’re reading this right now! I’m not sure what exactly prompted me to choose this for my subject, but it popped into my head, and I decided to follow the inspiration.
Many, many years ago, I worked at a fast-food restaurant. It wasn’t my first job, but it was one of them. I was only eighteen when I worked there, but boy did I learn a lot! I feel everyone should have the experience of being employed by one of those kinds of establishments. It’s not easy work–especially if you’re at a popular location. I learned how to manage my time, and even more importantly, how to multitask.
I’ll never forget when my manager looked at me one day and said, “You have two hands, use both of them.” Honestly, I don’t remember what I was doing at the time, but what she said sure made a lot of sense. Maybe I was restocking condiments. Who knows? Still, whatever it might have been, her words remained in my head. I need to point out that she didn’t say it with any kind of nastiness, she said it with sincerity. She was a great manager–exceedingly patient, kind, and organized. Like I said, I learned a lot at that job.
It might sound silly that up until that point I’d never given much thought to using both of my hands at the same time. Being right-handed, that hand did my school work. I also like to draw, paint, and color, so again, my right hand stayed busy. I didn’t play sports, and if I had gotten into basketball, I might have learned that two-hand-usage lesson a lot sooner. I was one of the tallest girls in the school and the coach wanted me on the team, but I wasn’t a ‘sporty’ girl. I might have had the height the coach wanted, but I wasn’t exactly coordinated.
At this point in my life, I’m extremely thankful that I have two capable hands. I use them every day to type my stories into my laptop computer. I never dreamed that the typing class I took in Junior High would be one of the most valuable courses in all my years in school. I confess that I haven’t learned to master the ‘two-hand’ system on my phone. I watch young people work their thumbs over their screens in lightning-fast precision, texting up a storm. I have large thumbs, and I can’t figure out how they manage to sent readable texts and not just a mishmash of nonsensical words.
So, I may not be a whiz at texting, but I can still type like there’s no tomorrow. As long as ideas keep popping into my head, my two hands will keep flying over the keyboard.
Aside from the ‘two-hand skill,’ something else lingered from the guidance I received working in the fast-food industry. The way I manage my time. It’s hard for me to sit still unless I’m doing something. I can sit and write for hours on end and not even realize how much time has passed, but if I have to sit and wait for a program to load on my computer, I get restless. So, I’ve found things to do whenever I have those brief moments of wait-time. I keep a set of weights on hand. (Yep, weights for the waits!) I do a series of lifts. Using both hands, of course. I do twenty reps of ‘over the head’ and two variations of curls. If the wait is really long, I’ll get out of my chair and do a few other variations. I’m hoping this repetitive activity will keep my arms strong–not to mention avoid having my grandson comment about the ‘jiggle’ under my arms. Thanks to the weights, that jiggle is gone. Woo-hoo!
A friend of mine who has a tax services business also beta reads for me. You might wonder how this fits into my ‘use both hands’ subject. Well…she’s a multitasker, too. I feel bad when I ask her to read for me during tax season, but she’s always willing. When I asked her how she finds the time, she said she keeps the book open on her computer, and when she has to wait for documents to print, she reads a little bit. Sometimes, if it’s a lengthy document, she can read quite a lot. She’s like me. She doesn’t like to be idle.
So, if you find that you’re having a hard time fitting everything that you need to accomplish into your day, ask yourself, “Am I using both hands?”
It’s good to enjoy everything you do, and if you can find ways to squeeze more tasks into the little spaces that can be overlooked, you might find that you’re getting even more out of your life.
I’d love to hear how you find ways to multitask. Please comment below!
When I started writing, more than one person told me to “follow my muse.” I understand. My heart and mind will often lead me in a particular direction, and stories will come to me out of the blue.
My writing journey began with a dream that led me to write historical fiction. I love history and stepping back in time, so this genre fit. However, at one point, my muse had other ideas!
I spent a little over a year writing a medieval fantasy series called Shrouded Thrones. You can read more about it on my main page. Just click the Shrouded Thrones tab. Initially, I had only planned to write Island in the Forest, which was a rewrite of a children’s fairy tale I wrote when my son was young. I “grew it up” and made it into a novel. That single book led to four more. I found myself fully immersed in the realms I created, and the story simply took off by itself. My muse went wild! This particular series is darker than my historical fiction, but I’m still passionate about it. I found that many readers who love my historical books, weren’t as impassioned, and I decided to go back to my roots. I stuffed that other particular muse in a box, but it often begged me to be released.
I’m happy to say that I’ve recently been given the opportunity to reopen that box! My publisher, Jumpmaster Press, asked for short stories for a Fantasy Anthology that they were putting together, with proceeds going to charity. We were given specific parameters for the story, and I found it incredibly fun to write. That first anthology is called, “Realms of the Fantastic.” My contribution is: Riches of the Stone. You can find the anthology here: https://www.jumpmasterpress.com/product-page/realms-from-the-fantastic
Now, Jumpmaster Press is putting together another Fantasy Anthology called, “Enchanted Realms.” The story I have in this one is: A Noteworthy Enchantment. It tells the tale of a young girl who is under a spell to always sing. The story takes place in the same realm as in the first anthology. I’ve had so much fun writing these stories, and I have a strong feeling that there will be more to come that are set in Shanavar–the realm I created.
I was thrilled to be invited as one of the featured authors at the Civil War Reenactment scheduled for this coming weekend in Ridgetop, Tennessee!
Most of my books are set either right before the war, during the war, or after the war at the time of Reconstruction. When I first started writing, agents, other authors, and publishers cautioned me against choosing this time period to set my stories. However, if you’ve followed my blog, you know that a dream inspired my first series, and from then on, I’ve felt compelled to write about the struggles this nation went through during that difficult time. I believe wholeheartedly that although this was a sad time for our country, it’s crucial that what happened isn’t forgotten. Hopefully, by remembering these events, we can learn from them and prevent them from happening again. If you’re in the area this weekend, come by and experience something you’ll not soon forget!
Here are the books I’ll be featuring!
The Smoky Mountain Secrets Saga. Book one, “Whispers from the Cove,” takes place at the end of the Civil War in Cades Cove, Tennessee. You’ll learn about the struggles of the poor farming families as they try to cope with soldiers from both sides coming into their cove and helping themselves to whatever they please. The families are affected by the war in more than one way, and it forever changes their lives. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06ZYYY5WKA Confederate soldier returns to his Atlanta home to find it burned to the ground and his family gone. Distraught, he hops a train, thinking he’s going west, but wakes up in a hospital bed in Boston, Massachusetts. He fearfully pretends to be mute, so those caring for him won’t know he’s from the South. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PB84TTOFollow five families in the Southern Secrets Saga as they learn to cope with life in Mobile, Alabama after the war. This seven-book series spans two generations. This series is my dream-inspired work and definitely the steamiest of all my books! This is by no means a ‘typical’ romance series. It takes many surprising turns. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0139LASFSThe River Romance series begins prior to the Civil War, and a good portion of the stories take place on steamboats on the Mississippi River. Each book is a stand-alone and comes to a conclusion. Yet, the series continues the stories of characters you’ll meet along the way. In book three, “Forgotten,” young Billy goes to fight for the Union Army. He’s fallen in love with a mixed-race slave who works for his family, and he’s determined to fight for her freedom. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZYCQIP0
For more detailed information about all of these books, be sure to check out my book tab!
I’m excited to say that my publisher, Jumpmaster Press, is featuring my book, “Regenerates,” this month at a 10% discount!
This story is probably one of the most unusual books I’ve ever written, and it was inspired by an article I read online about a cat at a nursing home that could predict when someone was about to die. First, I have to say that I highly respect people who work in senior care facilities. I cared for my mother-in-law in the final months of her life. It wasn’t easy, but the experiences I had with her at that time far outweighed the difficulties of the task. It often seemed she had one foot here on Earth and the other in Heaven. I suppose my experiences with her would be a good topic for its own blog. 🙂
“Regenerates” has more than one quirky cat, but my favorite is Mr. Blinky–the nursing-home cat. The book was written for the young adult market, yet it’s an enjoyable read for anyone, thirteen and up! It deals with death and centers around a serial killer who’s preying on teenage runaways. Oddly, the killer dresses them in fine clothes, makes them up to look like fashion models, and positions them in the city parks. The story is set in Spokane, Washington–a place I lived for a few years when I was very young.
Two teenagers become sleuths and uncover what they believe is really going on, but they’re afraid to tell anyone for fear they’d be called crazy.
I’ve lived in Tennessee for almost thirty years, and I have a confession to make… I’ve never been to the State Fair. I’ve attended the Robertson County Fair several times, and it was great, but I’ve heard that it pales in comparison to the enormous state-wide event.
Needless to say, I’m super excited to be attending the State Fair this coming Sunday. What finally got me off my tail and headed in that direction? An invitation to participate in Author’s Day! If you live in Tennessee, (or even if you don’t and want to travel to a fun, family event), I hope you’ll join me at the fair.
You’ll find me, along with many other authors of an assortment of genres, in the Fiddler’s Grove Picnic Pavilion on Sunday, August 21st, from 2:00 till 5:00p.m.
It’s the perfect time for summer traveling, but with today’s high gas prices, it’s not always feasible. So, here’s an alternative!
Take a journey with me through the pages of “His Heart’s Long Journey!” This series is based on the true story of Vern Harpole. At the age of eight, Vern is abandoned by his mother and left on the porch of a bakery in Kansas City. The kind baker and his wife take Vern in after they’re unable to locate Vern’s mother.
They teach Vern everything he needs to know about baking and running a business. They also grow to love him, and vice versa. Yet, the need to know why he was abandoned troubles Vern, and he can’t let it go. In addition, something keeps compelling him to go West. His life’s journey takes him on quite an adventure.
Today thru Tuesday, July 26th, book one, “Forsaken by Love” is available as a FREE download from Amazon. Here’s a little more about the book!
Jeanne Hardt 