Ah! Winning the lottery Who doesn’t dream of this happening? I’ve dreamed of it so often, for years I considered it my Retirement Plan. No. Really.
But then again, I’m already retired and have I won the lottery? Heck no. Good thing I kept my day job.
Still, it’s fun to play “What if…?” I know a few things I would do, for sure.
- Take the money in a lump sum. None of this doling out the funds year by year. No one knows how much time they have left, and if I get called to heaven sooner than I think I will, I want to have enjoyed every single cent I can before I go.
- Pay off all my debts. Not that there are all that many, but I’d like not to have to worry about owing anyone. That way I can lay on that beach with nothing niggling at the back of my mind. “Did I pay the mortgage this month?” “Do I have anything left on the student loan?” “Have I paid the pool boy his monthly stipend?” Nope. Don’t want any of that on my mind.
- Gift those I love and who have loved me all these years. I’d give my mom and aunt anything their little heart’s desire. Ditto for my wonderful in-laws. And my friends—I have a few who could really use some help. One dear friend has a son with autism, and another has a brother in the same boat. I’d like for them not to have to worry about their loved one’s futures.
- Donate to my favorite charities. Shriners Hospitals would get a big donation, as would several other places. If I have it, I want to share it.
- Go back to Scotland. It’s one of the places I’d like to visit again and
show it off to Jack. Scotland is one of my favorite places on earth. - Buy books. If I have anything left after all that, I’d buy as many books as I want.Yippee!
When we buy lottery tickets—which is not all that often—we buy only one. Don’t have particular numbers, don’t say a prayer beforehand or go through any special rituals. I figure if God wants me to win the lottery, one ticket will be enough, and it won’t matter which numbers I choose. If God doesn’t want me to win (and so far, not that I doubt His wisdom, but I do think it’s an oversight on His part), it won’t matter if I buy a thousand tickets or use the birth date of the Archangel Michael for the numbers. So far, God has seen fit to keep me humble…and poor. Oh well. Life is still good.
What would you do with lottery winnings?
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Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.
I might be one of those few people who really things the great outdoors is overrated. I don’t particularly enjoy being in the bright sunshine (I have to worry about a lady’s fair complexion), I’ve never been one for sports or strenuous activities, picnics only attract insects, and sitting out in the late evening with a cup (or glass) of an adult beverage has me swatting mosquitoes and wishing I were inside on my recliner. In other words, having an extra hour of afternoon sunlight has never been important to me.
Or one that doesn’t backup, only changes by going forward and you have to go through a whole day’s worth of hours in order to get it set properly. One year I forgot how to change the time on my car’s clock and had to keep the correct time in my head by mentally adjusting it back until I was relieved by the fall’s change. Such a pain!
While Australia is no stranger to bushfires, this season was unprecedented with out of control fires in every state and territory from September 2019 to February 2020. When our fireys were stretched to the limit, their brothers-in-arms from America, Canada, Singapore and New Zealand arrived to help. We were overwhelmed by the support, donations and prayers from around the world but what we needed was rain. And we got it when Mother Nature decided to turn on all her taps. Some drought-stricken areas received more rain in a few days than they’d had in two years. Sydney had flash flooding after weeks of being shrouded in smoke.
some other places received. The huge Warragamba Dam which supplies 5.2 million people in the Greater Sydney Area rose from just 43% to over 60% in 24 hours, and the rain didn’t stop. We watched the news showing ecstatic farmers splashing in water streaming through their properties and the faces of little children who’d never seen puddles. A man holding a glass under his overflowing water tank and gleefully drinking the contents with, “bloody good, mate.”
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.
A common question that authors are asked is what inspires them to write and where do they come up with their ideas. A lot of my ideas come from my experience. Let’s take Tara, for example, in 
And finally, I will talk about the cat shelter. This is where Evie and Jesse meet. Rescue cats are close to my heart as I am a foster carer for homeless kittens. These cute bundles of fur bring so much joy into our home, and sometimes a little trouble. I have taken inspiration from the kittens I have fostered and my own cats to help build Mike, the shelter cat’s personality. Kimmy my twelve-year-old cat is exactly like Mike at meal times. While Possum, is like all the
others.
Cynthia Terelst is a project officer by day and a writer by night. She is a contemporary romance writer who likes to share a little bit of history, some Australian scenery and a whole lotta love. Cynthia does not shy away from difficult topics, as she feels that they should not be ignored.
aren’t so many changes marked by editors now. Impatient Passion was the first time I’d ever been edited, excluding school where “editing” meant being graded. I didn’t view it as a fun experience then. Since then I’ve come to accept that it’s a part of the writing process—a good part!
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
I am of the firm opinion that D-I-E-T is a 4-letter word. It can make strong women gasp and weak women wilt. It stirs more feelings between the sexes as other, more sexual words do not. Such as, Gender A resents the feeling that they have to diet to please Gender B, and Gender B feels some guilt for the desire to see Gender A in skimpy bathing suits that might require—yes—a diet.
near the water. Nine years in Virginia Beach during my pre-teen and teen years meant that my mother and I spent March, April, and May eating lots of carrots and celery sticks. Neither of us wanted to be odd girl out when we hit the beaches—not that I did all that often with my Irish, burn-don’t-tan complexion. But still, I wanted to look the part. I can attest to the fact that dieting for summer is a stupid way to live your life, and fortunately, I gave it up many years ago.
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How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!
This month I’d like to talk about 
Yes, when I read something outside my comfort zone, it is likely to be non-fiction. Why is non-fiction kind of weird for me to read? Because I love romance, thrillers, police and FBI procedurals, legal mysteries, all things that spur emotion. And let’s face it, most non-fiction doesn’t really make your heart jump or adrenaline spike. Or the heart go pitter-patter. But once in a while I do pick up a non-fiction book. But only when the subject matter really (really, really) appeals to me.
Bradley) told the story of the U.S. Marines at Iwo Jima. This was a hard book to read at times, but my father-in-law fought in the Pacific as did my great-uncle, so I thought it was important. Marine! The Life of Chesty Puller (Burke Davis) tells the story of the Marine Corps legend. My father-in-law was a Marine and you say the words Chesty Puller and practically every Marine in the room stands to attention. I wanted to know why.