Yearly Archives: 2022

#SundaySnippet 1.9.2022

from the upcoming MIX & MATCH 3.1.2022

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09P48WPZC

The Friday night social scene in Heaven N.H. wasn’t the eclectic, happening, busy one she’d grown used to while living in Manhattan. She and her ex had routinely made Friday a date night when his work schedule allowed and they’d attended many a packed jazz bar or bistro over the years. Mood lighting, expensive décor and a drink menu that boasted thousand dollar bottles of wine and champagne had been the norm, along with cocktails going for upwards of twenty-five dollars a glass.

The Love Shack, Heaven’s own answer to the bar scene, was a wooden, rustic, brightly lit establishment with butcher block tables covered in gingham tablecloths and where the most expensive bottle of wine topped out at sixteen dollars. The costliest cocktail served was a four dollar cranberry Cosmo that was heavy on the Ocean Spray and light on the vodka and Cointreau.

Jasmine scanned the bar where Olivia told her her date would be waiting. There were three men scattered down along the rail. Two she recognized from high school and one guy whose face she couldn’t see because his back was to her. When he turned she realized immediately this was not the man she was due to have drinks with.First there was no way this guy was 36 years old. Her mother would have called him Gramps.Clue number two was the wedding band on the hand holding his beer. It was so tight, the skin surrounding it swollen, his knuckle hair squeezed around it, indicating it had been there for decades.Nope. This wasn’t her guy. A cursory glance around the place showed most of the tables were taken with couples.Her date had yet to arrive.

“Hey, Jazz,” the bartender and owner, Kick Loomis said from his perch drying beer glasses behind the bar.

“Kick.”

“You squattin’ or sittin’, sweetheart?”She’d been in the place enough times in her life to know he meant was she going to sit at the bar or take a table.

Jasmine was self-conscious enough she didn’t want to be seated on a bar stool, sitting alone while waiting for her date, especially when one of the guys she’d gone to school with tossed her an inquiring eye and a raised eyebrow. She didn’t want to get into a how-you-doing-what-you-been-up-to-since-high school chat. If her memory served, and it always did, the guy had been one of the football heroes of Heaven High back in the day. Those glory days were long gone and she had no desire to listen to him dredge them up.

She spotted an empty table in the corner and nodded toward it.

“I’ll send Raylynn over with a menu.”

She nodded and as she was about to head for it felt a tap on her arm.

“Excuse me. Jasmine?”

She turned at the sound of her name, spoken in a deep, soft voice blessed with a charming accent and found herself face to face with the gorgeous guy she’d spotted in her mom’s office. The one Sharmaine had been sucked on to like a tick

.Good Lord, he was even better looking up close and personal than he’d been, seated, and ten feet away from her. Stunning blue eyes, the color of freshly laid Robin’s eggs topped a face with high cut cheeks and a jaw forged from granite. Midnight hair curled around his ears and caressed the nape of his neck. Layered waves fell across his head in a chaos of perfection.

She’d been right about his height. Most men she could stare straight in the eyes due to her own long legs. But she had to tilt her head back a bit to look into this man’s striking ones.“You are Jasmine, aye?” Even his voice was gorgeous, the song of Ireland singing through it.

She nodded, her own voice deciding now would be a good time to leave on vacation. And when his smile took a slow stroll from one corner of his full, thick lips to the other, showing perfect, straight white teeth, the tips of her fingertips began to tingle like she’d fallen asleep on them and spent the night with them cuddled beneath the weight of her body.

He-of-the-handsome-face stuck out his hand and declared, “Good. Olivia said to meet you here. Donovan Boyd, but everyone calls me Van. Lovely to meet you.”

Jasmine knew she should shake his hand. It was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? For some reason, her brain wasn’t sending any signals down her arm to lift it up to his outstretched one.

Donovan, or Van, kept his hand out, his smile in place, and ticked his head to the left a hair. A clap of booming laughter rang out from somewhere behind her and finally propelled the gears in her brain to start turning again.

After a head shake where she actually heard her brains rattle, she extended her hand and slipped it into his.

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Photo of the day, day 9

The the epitome of lazy dog syndrome.

She’s still in the cone and still NOT allowed on the couch – but deems it okay for her to not only go up there but fall asleep in this ridiculous position as well using the arm rest as her own personal pillow.

Honestly, this dog is the love of my life and the bane of my existence!

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Photo of the day, day 8

So I didn’t go once during the pandemic year 2020 and only went back right before Omicron hit.

But…I have been going 3-4 times a week with hubby, masked, and keeping my distance from everyone. It actually feels good to be out and exercising instead of on the treadmill all alone in my basement ( which is where I spent 2020/2021.)

Keep fit, kids!

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Photo of the day, day 7

I’ll be taking this down today and returning it to storage until next year, but wanted to show it to you for today’s photo.

This is my Nativity set. The reason it is so near and dear to me is that the stable was my beloved mother-in-law’s. It is over 60 years old and get this: the light bulb still works and has never been replaced. It’s true when people say they don’t make stuff like they used to — even lightbulbs!

The Nativity set is mine, a Willow Tree set it took me three years to collect. I simply love it. The figurines may not be in proportion to the stable itself ( in real life they would be Amazonians!) but I think the overall aesthetic still works.

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Photo of the day, day 6

In my never-ending quest to be healthier, I purchased an Aerogarden for our family last Christmas. I grow lettuce, exclusively, in it because hubby and I like salad every night as our first course to dinner.

It’s a breeze to operate and so far we’ve been through 3 cycles of new plantings. AS a cost differential, I pay 15 dollars every 6 months for 1 box of 9 lettuce pods, which last me between 4 and 6 months of daily use. If I purchased the same amount of lettuce every week in the inflated grocery store now, I would pay about 4 dollars a week/16 a month.

15 dollars for 4-6 months instead of 64-96 dollars for the same time period?
Yeah, this garden is a good thing. It’s already paid for itself twice over.

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Photo of the day, day 5

This goofball has an abscess on her paw and continues to lick it despite our continual verbal commands not to, hence… the cone of shame.

I love this picture because she looks like she is smoking a cigar when it’s actually one of her organic bones she loves so much.

This dog is the love of my life and the bane of my existence. In the 15 months we’ve had her she’s been to the vet’s office more times than my older lab had been in 12 years. She’s definitely my middle child, kids – rambunctious, energetic, off the wall at times, but so sweet, loving, and smart, too.

~Peg

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Photo of the day, day 4

This flag and cap sit in a place of honor in my home. They are in memory of my beloved father-in-law who went to Heaven in November 2021. He had a military funeral and as the oldest child, my husband was awarded the flag with all his sisters’ approval.

Every day when I see this flag I am reminded of all the wonderful, brave, and self-less people who have served this country – on both sides of the political aisle. A Veteran is a veteran o matter who they voted for or what part they support. They performed an unselfish act of honor by serving to keep this country the great country it is and sacrificed family, home, jobs, and in some cases limbs and even lives for the cause of freedom.

If you know a veteran or see one today, you should thank them. Freedom isn’t free, peeps. It comes with a heavy cost.

~Peg

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Photo of the day, day 3

This little cutie is my 85-year-old mother. I took this right before the holidays when she had a routine MD appointment for a follow-up visit after her last hip surgery.

She’s wearing a Christmas sweatshirt I bought her last year – at her request – and the faux fur hat is from 1969. Yes, she’s had it that long. The blue jacket she bought on the dollar table at a local church bazaar 15 years ago. The woman knows the value of saving a penny and never paying retail if you can avoid it – lessons I learned at her knee.

In the past year she’s had an outbreak of shingles that incapacitated her horribly and left her with nerve damage in her forehead, broke her right hip in a fall at home that resulted in surgery and a 10 week stay in a rehab center, and welcomed her first great-grandchild. She is no longer mobile without the aide of quad-walker or a wheelchair, so she hasn’t been outside the house for anything other than hospitalizations and doctor visits in almost 2 years.

Despite that, she wakes up every day and the first thing she does is say a prayer of thanks to God.

When I was giving her a shower a few weeks ago she said to me, out of nowhere, “I can’t believe I’ve lived this long.”

I mumbled, “Me, either,” to which she shot me the glare she used to when I was an errant child.

85 years old and she can still instill parental fear in her 61 year old daughter. That’s the power of an old-school, Irish-gened mother, kids.

Cherish your parents, peeps, no matter how old you are. You won’t have them forever. Tell them you love them daily and show it whenever and however you can.

~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet from MIX & MATCH

#SundaySnippet

from the upcoming first book in my new HEAVEN’S MATCHMAKER series, MIX & MATCH, releasing 3.1.2022. ( here’s the preorder link for amazon:) https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09P48WPZC

Olivia Joyner smiled as she hit enter and sent her RSVP response to the on-line wedding site.  This affair was going to be such a joyous event and excitement filled her to be included on the guest list.

Of course, since she’d been instrumental in the bride-and-groom-to-be meeting and falling in love, it made perfect sense she would be invited to the nuptials.

Olivia sat back, still smiling, and gave herself a mental pat on the back. She’d done it again – another successful match between two people who might never have met if not for her.  As a third generation matchmaker, she got such a kick out of the wins – the couples who found their happily ever after.

But of course, for every tick in the match column, she could always depend on some not taking root. The couple might look perfect on paper, all the planets aligning, all the answers to her in-depth questionnaire in sync. But for some unforeseen reason there’d be no chemistry, no spark, no little zing when hands met, or gazes locked. Looking perfect on paper was one thing, but, try as she would like to, Olivia couldn’t force an attraction on someone if it wasn’t organically there.

Case in point, the client she was currently waiting for while at a cozy table for two in Joy’s House of Java. The coffee shop was a staple in the small town of Heaven, New Hampshire and once upon a high school age Olivia had worked as a barista.

The original Joy went to her maker a generation ago, the shop now owned and operated by her granddaughter.

“You want a refill,” Destiny, the said granddaughter, asked as she waddled up to the table, coffee carafe in hand, the other over her just-about-to-pop pregnant belly.

“I’m good, Des, thanks.” Olivia smiled. “I’m waiting for someone.”

Destiny nodded, her hair a cloud of waves courtesy of the fresh blowout she’d treated herself to at the Nirvana Day Spa and Salon, bobbing with the motion. “Jasmine Green. Heard she went out with the new doc in town last night.”

Olivia fought the strong urge to roll her eyes but kept her smile in place while internally groaning. Gossip was the mother’s milk of small towns and the residents of Heaven were devout lactose lovers.  Olivia strove to protect her clients’ privacy despite the wagging tongues surrounding her in the town she’d been born and reared in – no easy feat.

As if she’d been summoned by the utterance of her name, Jasmine Green blew into the coffee shop, glanced around, and when she lit on Olivia, came her way.

“Hey, Des,” Jasmine said as she tore off her sunglasses and plopped into the chair opposite Olivia. “Can I get a full brew, extra milk, four sugars, please?”

“I was already saying it in my head when I spotted you,” Destiny replied. “You’ve been drinking the same thing since we were in high school. Be right back.”

Another head bob and she left them.

Garbed in a bright blue scrub suit, a stethoscope wound around her neck and her nursing pins attached to the front of her scrub top, Jasmine had, obviously, just come from a shift at Holy Mother of God Hospital. Her red hair was tucked back into a messy bun, her face makeup-free. Weariness colored her deep hazel eyes and when she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, a heavy sigh escaped from between her lips.

“Tough day?” Olivia asked.

“They all seem to be lately.”

Destiny returned, carrying a steaming mug. Silently, she placed it in front of Jasmine.

“So.” Olivia took a sip of her own brew. “Tell me about last night.”

Jasmine took a breath and then blew on her coffee. “I hate doing this again, but,” she said after taking a gulp, “well.” She shrugged and Olivia got the impression she was embarrassed.

“What? Come on, Jazz, talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what happened.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Nothing happened, that’s just it. The date didn’t go well.”

“Why not? Did he say or do something to put you off?”

“No.”

“Was he rude? Condescending? Obnoxious?”

She answered with a shake of her head.

“Did he say something off color or insulting? Tell me. What is it? Because on paper you two are a pretty good match.”

And there were. Both were in the health profession so they had a lot to discuss on the work front. Both only children. Both divorced. They enjoyed the same type of music and both were exercise enthusiasts, in addition to a myriad of other attributes Olivia considered compatible.

“He’s, well, boring is the best word. And kinda…stuffy. He reminded me of an older uncle or even grandfather. Stodgy.”

Olivia did her best to hide her shock. The Hunter Reinhart she’d taken on as a client didn’t strike her as any of those things. Not boring, not stuffy, and certainly not like a man past his prime. She’d been thrilled when he’d hired her, and had been captivated by his good looks, respectful manner, and charming smile.

“There was just no…spark, no,” Jasmine shrugged “something special between us. Several times during dinner I wanted to yawn but knew I’d look rude if I did.”

“What did you two talk about?”

“In all honesty I can’t remember. None of it seemed particularly interesting.”

Once again, Olivia employed her face-blanking talent so she wouldn’t give her thoughts away.

“I’m sure he was as bored as me.”

“What makes you say that?” She refrained from telling her the doctor had called this morning, claiming the date went well and he wanted to see Jasmine again if she agreed.

Another shrug.

When Jasmine had contacted her, Olivia thought it would be easy to find her a match. The thirty-three year old nurse had recently moved back home to Heaven from New York after her acrimonious and public divorce, intent on getting her life back to some semblance of normalcy. She’d sought out Olivia because, as she’d stated in her email, she didn’t want to get involved in the bar scene and most of the guys in the small town she’d known all her life, attended school with, and hadn’t considered them marriage material before she left town, her opinion unchanged now that she was back. Even with that declaration, Olivia had thought it would be an easy task to match her with someone.

After three dates with three different men, the latest one the newest doctor in town, Jasmine found none to her liking.

All the men she’d met were perfectly charming, suitable, and successful, but Jasmine found flaws with each of them. Olivia was beginning to think the woman was looking for someone—or something—who didn’t exist.

Either that, or she still carried a torch for the ex who’d publicly humiliated her when he left their marriage for a model ten years Jasmine’s junior.

“At this rate, I’m beginning to think I’ll end up like my mother. Alone, depressed, and bitter,” Jasmine said, then heaved another soul-crushing sigh.

Olivia kept her own counsel. She never wanted to give up on a client discovering their one true love. But Jasmine’s words were worrying and Olivia was concerned they just might prove true.

Intrigued? Hee hee. More snippets to follow.

Happy Sunday, peeps

~Peg

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Photo of the day…day 2

So, my year-long quest to put up a photo a day that makes me happy starts with – what else? – food.

Specifically, blueberry muffins.

I made these yesterday for hubby – a full dozen – and snapped this picture just in time because right now, this morning, they are gone! All of them. And I didn’t eat a single one.

Baking is one of those things that gives me such joy and brings a smile to my face. Luckily, most of the stuff I bake isn’t for me – it’s for hubby – or else I’d be featured on My 600 Pound LIfe. Hubby? The man’s a furnace – burns everything he eats, unlike me, who is a store-er. Every morsel that goes in my mouth shoots right to my fat cells, storing up in case of the apocalypse.

Genetics really sucks, peeps.

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