It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything about my books or writing in general. Since I am a published author, I guess I should probably talk about my books on occasion, right? Today is that day. I thought I’d share with you some of my ideas and how my creative process works when I’m writing.
(more…)Archive for the ‘deserts’ Category
It Really Is The Little Things
Posted in Amazon.com, Baer House Inn, deserts, dessert, dieting, eating, Family, food, humor, innkeeping, Jansen Schmidt, laughter, writing, tagged appliances, baking, Cooking, Cuisinart, dinner, food processor, hand mixers, kitchen appliances, meal planning, meal prep, meals, mixers, smoke, warning labels, warnings on February 1, 2021| 4 Comments »
A few weeks ago, I was in a baking / cooking kind of weird mood. I don’t think I was bored exactly, just looking for a creative outlet other than writing. My hubby and I have been trying to eat sensibly so I thought that if I pre-made some meals, we could have half the portion now and freeze the other half to eat later. It was a good idea and it worked, until I stopped pre-making the meals and we ran out of the frozen stuff. Now it’s back to “what are we going to have for dinner tonight?” (sigh)
(more…)What Is It About the 48th State?
Posted in Autumn, blooms, books, bucket list, cowboys, desert, deserts, Fiction, inspiration, Jansen Schmidt, mystical, On Common Ground, On Hallowed Ground, travel, vacation, words, writers, writing, tagged American Civil War, Arizona, Battle of Picacho Pass, cacti, cactus, Civil War, cliff dwellings, Confederate States, copper mines, copper mining, Copper State, evergreen trees, Flagstaff, forests, ghost towns, Gleeson, Goldfield, Grand Canyon, history, horseback riding, horses, Jefferson Davis, Jerome, mountains, Oak Creek Canyon, On Common Ground, On Hallowed Ground, Picacho Pass, Sedona, silver mining, snow, veterans day, western states, winter on November 11, 2019| 8 Comments »
The last of the contiguous states to be admitted to the Union, achieved statehood on St. Valentine’s Day, 1912. It is part of both the western and the mountain states. It is the 6th largest and 14th most populous of the 50 states in the United States of America. The southern most part of the state is desert, with extreme high temperatures in the summer. The northern part of the state is mountainous and often sees significant snowfall in winter. (more…)
A Unique Passion
Posted in Autumn, blogging, books, cowboys, desert, deserts, Family, Fiction, friends, Jansen Schmidt, reading, travel, Uncategorized, vacation, writing, tagged AQHA, Arizona, Babbitt Ranches, cattle, cattle ranches, cattle round-up, cowboys, cows, debut novel, fiction, fiction writing, Flagstaff, horses, Northern Arizona, On Common Ground, quarter horses, ranches, ranching, romance fiction, romance writers on October 8, 2018| 13 Comments »
Over the past few weeks I’ve been introducing you to the main players in my upcoming release On Common Ground. In case you haven’t seen it yet, here is the cover.
I don’t know about you, but I love it!
My Dad’s Four Favorite Words
Posted in blogging, desert, deserts, Family, Fiction, friends, hill billy, humor, Jansen Schmidt, love, mowing lawn, redneck, resolutions, Uncategorized, words, writers, writing, tagged Dad, deflated basketball, Desert of Sin, dump, hoarder, hula hoop, Israelite, junk, manna, pagurian, sacrilege, scrapbook, shed, shop on June 16, 2014| 24 Comments »
We all have at least one quirky relative. Some of us have more than one. In my case, it’s my dad.
Let me begin by saying that I love my dad very much, warts and all. He’s far from perfect, but he’s the person God entrusted my care with so I owe him my deepest gratitude for not killing me as a child. And everyone knows that it’s okay for us to poke fun or our own family, but no one else is allowed to – right? That’s just an unspoken rule.
So now that that’s all established, I want to share with you my Dad’s four favorite words: “I’m throwing that away.”
I know – weird. But my dad has a fascination with junk. He’s a crap hoarder. His house is not cluttered to the rafters, but his sheds, or as he calls them collectively, his “shop,” is a different story. There is not one square inch of uncluttered space in his “shop.”
If anyone knows my dad, you can get an immediate visual of this “shop,” but for those of you who haven’t had that . . . ah . . . privilege, let me just say that the “shop” is a series of crudely-constructed sheds, attached together by staples, bailing wire and duct tape, in a row, much like box cars on a train track. When one fills up, he constructs and attaches another, sometimes cutting a hole in the adjoining walls – for walk-through purposes – sometimes not. Collectively this row of mind-blowing dilapidation is known as “the shop.”
My dad will drag home anything. He often does yard work or minor brush clearing for older folks or single ladies and he brings home whatever he uncovers. If someone is moving and cleaning out a garage, my dad is the first one to volunteer to help. He’ll haul home anything left behind, including stuff intended for the dump. Recently my husband and I started cleaning out the ravine below our house. We unearthed a dented hula hoop, a deflated basketball, a plastic oar with a broken handle, and a three-wheeled wagon with a broken axle. My dad’s eyes lit up with pure joy when he saw these treasures in the refuse pile.
“What’re you doing with that stuff?” inquires my dad.
“We’re throwing it away,” I reply.
“Oh, don’t do that,” says my dad with barely contained excitement. “I’ll take it home.”
What in God’s name my father is going to do with a dented hula hoop and a deflated basketball is anyone’s guess, but I let him load that crap up and cart it home. I didn’t even want to ask his intentions. I’ve just learned that shit like that is to my dad like manna was to the Israelites in the Desert of Sin. It delights and nourishes him in indescribable ways. (Is it sacrilege to use a swear word in a biblical metaphor?)
That’s my dad – gotta love him. Or as they say in the south, “Bless his heart.”
What weird-o family traits are kept in your closet? Come on, spill it. I’d love to hear about your quirky relatives.
Word of the Day: Quandong (it sounds dirty, but it’s not)
Fun fact about me: I like to scrapbook.
Original post by Jansen Schmidt, June 2014. Photos courtesy Google Images.