For many years, I wrote technical manuals. For even more years, I edited them. So for all those years, writing erotic romance was my creative outlet. When I wasn’t working at such technical jobs, I used counted cross stitch,
crochet, a little knitting, and crewel work as creative outlets. I stopped counting cross stitch when I had to use a magnifying glass to see the tiny little holes (oh, vanity!), but crocheting is still a relaxing activity.
Now, I have to qualify that by saying I’m not a terribly good crocheter, so I have to keep things pretty simple. I once knitted my dad, who was a rural mail carrier, a hat with the inscription U.S. Male and that was a huge 
endeavor for me. Mostly though, I crochet scarves and afghans—nothing greatly detailed that involves shaping, like sweaters or booties.
Although I have gotten away from needlework, I’ve lately been giving thought to asking hospitals, nursing homes, and shelters if they could use afghans or baby blankets. For 
them it wouldn’t have to be anything too intricate, just hypoallergenic and washable. I think even I could manage that. And in that case, I would once again be using needlework as a creative outlet, but with greater ramifications.
I’ve always admired my mother and aunt for many reasons but mostly because they are always thinking of others. They’re just plain good women. They routinely buy small, travel-size hygiene products, toothbrushes and toothpaste, brushes and combs, and little teddy bears to package and give to women’s’ shelters, since those victims often have to leave home with 
nothing but the clothes on their backs. They crochet winter scarves and donate them to Native American schools in the Midwest where they live. And they do this on very limited incomes! Maybe we can all do a little more to help out those who have less? I’m going to try. Will you?
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!
beach, school concerts, just hanging out with friends, dinner at Dairy Queen, talking about books. For eight years we drove nationwide as long-distance truckers where, even as tired and cranky as we were on occasion, we viewed sunrises and sunsets, wide open spaces, and horrific traffic jams all while holding hands (metaphorically).
Jack has always been there to remind me that that’s the ticket to a good life. He’s always been able to make me laugh, and that’s fun no matter if we’re dressed or not.
t time, I was in Virginia finishing up my year’s teaching contract and Jack was working in Kansas City as an IT consultant. We decided to spend my spring break in San Francisco.
Flowers lined the street, which has to be taken at a low speed not only due to the curves but to the grade, and it was not only quite the adventure, but not something we would have thought to do on our own.
Probably I like contemporary because I’m lazy. In contemporary romance, there is little truly in depth research that has to be done. I can make up pretty much whatever I want and make it fit into a storyline, whereas when writing historical there is so much to find out about day-to-day living.
I like some of the best known authors like Julie London, Eloisa James, Mary Balogh, and others, but lately have discovered 
