Not Again!

   Water heading toward the house

The fire department to the rescue

Let's see: there were the spring floods wiping out my willows, then Irene just two weeks ago throwing wind and rain around the area, and then Wednesday when Lee's rain blew in, and it rained, and it rained, and it rained.  The county closed the roads early on Wednesday so my next door neighbor and I hunkered down in her house.  We watched the water overflow the banks and begin to creep up on our houses.  Then it got dark, and we had no idea how high the water was.  We knew our cellars were filling up.  By eight Wednesday night, I had over three feet.  She and I listened to the continuous rain and hoped the flood wouldn't reach the houses, and we'd have to be evacuated by boat.  She has two kids, two dogs and one cat.  I have my two cats.  There were no shelters we could reach because of roads closed and bridges out.  I didn't sleep.  

By morning the water had stopped rising.  It had come up to my garden, swung around the pine tree in the back yard and flooded my other neighbor's field on the right of my yard.  Finally, the water began to recede.  It was time to call in the fire department to pump me out.  They did,  Twice.  And although my furnace was under water, once dried out, it ran.  How lucky can I be?

I am grateful for not having experienced the devastation others have.  Entire towns have been wiped out, roads and  bridges down,  houses toppled and swept downstream.  Most of what I experienced was fear not knowing how high that water was Wednesday night.  I admit I was terrified. And then there's my wet, moldy cellar.  I left that for Glenn to empty and clean when he rides in here sometime the end of this week.  Oh, right, you didn't know?  He missed all of this because he was still on his motorcycle journey. 

Much as I like to move beyond these events, this one will have a lasting impact.  Not only did the flood remove the five to ten feet of bank we'd rescued after the spring high waters, yesterday when I went out to determine if it was still too wet to mow, I noticed a series of cracks in the ground developing.  These run parallel to the stream about ten feet from the bank's edge.  They are deepening, a sign the bank will soon break away.

Have a look:

I guess I won't mow.

Can I write humor with Irene Churning up the creek?

That's not a pretty sight, is it?  It's the once gentle, friendly and beautiful Butternut Creek, the trout stream that runs  the back edge of our property.  Irene came through here yesterday and I spent the day back and forth between my computer and the back yard checking on how fast the creek was rising.  It got almost as high as this spring when it took out the willows along its bank and forever changed our view up the valley.

I wondered if it would be possible for me to get any writing done worrying about the water level, and I was certain I'd never be able to write my humorous pieces.   The best I could do with the worry over the creek, the high winds and the rain was to watch mindless television, my favorite channel where people hunt for expensive houses and tear down and rehab ones not so impressive.  That's usually a good escape for me and a real treat since Glenn is away and, when here, hates that stuff.  I guess it reminds him what is left to do on this house. 

Since I found television not distracting enough (I kept getting up and looking at the creek level, driving my cat crazy since she wanted to sleep on my lap), I sat down at my computer and surprised myself by pounding out the rough draft of a chapter in a new manuscript.  It is the one I intend to be the sequel to Dumpster Dying.  I tentatively entitled it Grilled, Chilled, and Killed.  The chapter was about a tornado descending upon a campground and included humorous scenes between my protagonist and one of her beaus.  Maybe I could write the tornado part, but humor?  I surprised myself by working through the chapter in break-neck speed, shocked to find the time flying by and my mind off the weather outside my window.  I like to read escape literature for, well you know, escape, but who thought I would find pleasure in writing escape literature with a funny slant to it?

It got me through the day and part of the early evening.  When and if it's published, I hope it does the same for my readers.  And also gives them something to laugh at.  You be the judge.  Here's an excerpt.  Detective Lewis has rescued my tiny protagonist, barely five feet tall Emily Rhodes from the campground where the bathhouse in which she had taken shelter was destroyed by a tree falling on its roof.  Lewis is trying to drive her back to his condo when his car suffers the same fate, a tree limb falling on its hood.

“We walk.  Think you can make it?”

“Of course.”  She shoved open her door and stepped out onto the roadway into several feet of water. 

Lewis extracted himself from the driver’s side of the car and started down the road.  When he realized Emily was not by his side, he stopped and looked back.  “What are you doing back there?”

“Swimming,” she said.

It's not belly laugh humor, but it may be worth a tiny grin. It helped me get through the day. Glenn would agree it's better than watching someone demo a kitchen, but perhaps it's not as much fun as taking a sledge hammer to a real kitchen.  And no, honey, I'm not remodeling the house while you're gone.

A day to curl up with a good book

 

Okay, so she's not really reading it, but she doesn't mind leaning against it, so it can't be that bad!

This morning was cloudy.  By noon we got rain, a real downpour, although we could use more.  I thought I'd never say that after all the rain in May and early June.

The second Hera Knightsbridge Mystery

Good news.  I signed a contract with Mainly Murder Press for the second Hera Knightsbridge master brewer story.  The tentative title is Poisoned Pairings, and it focuses on pairing beer and food, and, oh yes, murder.  It is set against the backdrop of the controversial procedure for extracting natural gas from shale, a process called "fracking" or hydraulic fracturing.  Water and other chemicals are introduced into the shale layer under pressure to break it up and release the gas.  Unfortunately, there is evidence to suggest it may pollute well water as well as introduce carcinogenic chemicals into streams and waterways.  The release date for the book is May, 2012.  I'll keep everyone updated on it.  I'm very excited its being published.  Many readers have asked if a second one was coming out so here you are.  I'll post snippits of it here in the near future to entice you.

Food and Brews

For those of you who are interested in cooking with beer or like the idea of pairing beer and food and are off on vacations soon, take a look at the right hand side of this bog where I've listed cities where you can tap into places featuring great food and excellent brews.  Click on one of them, and you'll be sent to a site providing you with information about pubs, breweries, restaurants, and events featuring food and beer.  There are recipes also.

Countdown to Motorcycle Widowhood: Murder on Route 66 hits the road

The cowboy is off on his book promotion trip, leaving around the middle of August.  He left the date open.  I hope he doesn't think he can sneak off, not with those pipes!  If you live in the southwest or anywhere near Roue 66 and hear a roaring in the distance, that's him riding by.  Give him a wave and wish him well.  Send me some cyber scotch in which to drown my loneliness. 

Who is the mystery man?

The Mystery Man

Who is this handsome and mysterious-looking guy?  Why, he’s that author with a new murder mystery entitled Murder on Route 66.  Better yet, he’s my very own cowboy.  Get your own cowpoke, ladies!

Last Friday night we launched his new book with a celebration at a local restaurant.  It was fun to have our friends and others join us.  In case any of you are interested, here’s the good stuff on the book:

Bobby Navarro, a bad-boy biker with a heart of gold, promises a young boy he’ll find who killed his father and left his body lying in a parking lot along old Route 66 in Tucumcari, New Mexico. The victim was Bobby’s friend, and temporary employer. The boy is the victim’s son.  With his working vacation turned into a sleuthing quest, Bobby must deal with a hostile ranch foreman, suspicious police detective, and worried girlfriend to track down the killer before the victim’s widow, son, or Bobby himself becomes the murderer’s next victim.

Glenn will be promoting his book by taking a cross-country motorcycle trip on Route 66 beginning in August.  For those of you living in the southwest, Arizona, New Mexico, or in Texas, Oklahoma,and Missouri, go to his website www.GlennNilson.com to link to the blog he’ll be writing as he travels the country on his motorcycle. 

Condolences to me, his motorcycle widow while he's gone, will be gratefully accepted at this blog http://anotherdraught.blogspot.com.

Saying Goodbye

Remember the picture above?  It's similar to the one that serves as the banner in my website  www.lesleydiehl.com.  It was the view from my backyard.  You can see an old willow on the left.  The entire bank was dotted with one hundred year old willows.  They served as the homes for birds and squirrels, and Glenn and I sat under them on many summer evening listening to the birds sing songs and fly from one branch to the other.  But things have changed.  High water in May took out the largest of the willows, dumping them across the stream, their tops landing on the far bank.  Because the stream undercut our bank so severely, we had to remove the other trees which threatened to fall also.

So the trees that fell into the stream were cut into sections and dumped into a logging truck.

The remaining trees were topped, then removed also.

We sadly said goodbye to the birds, the shade, the squirrels, and the familiar view of the creek.  I'm sad to see all this go, and I've apologized to those animals we uprooted.  I hope they find kind sanctuary downstream in the small willows and the butternut tree that still remain there.

Some critters were more resilient.  Our resident woodchuck's burrow by the stream was flooded by the high water, but he simply moved it back into our lawn, dug another hole near another already existing one and then discovered a better place--under our porch!  The chipmunks ferreted out a new home under the back deck with easy access to the garden.  It's kind of a munk buffet for them.  It's time for have-a-heart traps, so they too can find a new home, perhaps across the stream.  I'm sure they will be very happy there, and I've told them so as we baited the traps.

As you can tell, I've not lost my sense of humor completely, although I'd feel better if the neighborhood cats wouldn't come to visit and leave behind a their calling cards to let our house cats know they're around.

Removal of the trees opened up the view upstream, and it is beautiful.  The kids in the neighborhood are still enjoying the water as you can see.

Still, I'll miss those old trees.  The good news is that branches are growing from the old root balls of the fallen trees  In another hundred years, the bank will look as it did and provide homes once more for the birds and squirrels.

Review of Jean Henry Mead's newest release, Murder on the Interstate

Senior Sleuths Reign: Jean Henry Mead’s Murder on the Interstate

Murder on the Interstate by Jean Henry Mead, new from Oak Tree Press

Not since Mrs. Polifax caravanned the Sahara has the senior sleuth pursued a villain so relentlessly and with such tenacity and cleverness.  This time it’s two sleuths who do the work: Dana Logan and Sarah Cafferty.  And this time it’s not camels or jeeps, but a well-equipped motor home the sleuths use to give chase to a murderer whose victim they find at the side of the interstate.  All good amateur sleuths call in reinforcements when needed and Dana and Sarah are no exception.  Dana brings in her journalist daughter Kerrie who has the credentials to get into places and interview people the women cannot.  There is a bit of romance also, including a law enforcement officer eager to help them, but Dana has reservations about how much aid and comfort she wants from Walter.  A case calls him back to his job leaving Dana and Sarah to take on the killer alone with only Kerrie’s help.  What appears to be a murder committed because of jealousy turns out to be much more, a case of kidnapping, drug trafficking and domestic terrorism.

Mead couldn’t have chosen a better venue for her murder.  Although the motor home crashes early in the story, the women continue to pursue the killer and their leads across roads and Interstate 40 in the southwest, their search for clues and encounters with the killer dictating travel from one location to another.  It makes for a fast-paced read and left me breathless and in awe of these feisty protags.  They could have retreated to their home in Wyoming.  Or could they?  It appears the killer or someone in league with him awaits them there.  Mead makes their search for the killer compelling, drawing them in tighter with each dangerous adventure.  Every chapter provides the reader with yet another clue in this complicated case.  Mead cleverly plants the clues in the life threatening encounters Dana and Sarah encounter.  The reader won’t want to miss a page of the exciting journey.

The plot is complex, compelling, and designed to keep the reader guessing, but the characters are no less fascinating, sometimes quirky, and always call forth a bravery every reader wishes he or she could count on if challenged in a similar situation.  Along the way, Mead uses strangers to offer rescue in the form of rides and advice.  It’s a well-designed device to introduce some really interesting characters such as Big Ruby McCurdy who drives a big rig and is the first individual to offer a ride to our sleuths and a pursuit vehicle to chase the killer.  Readers shouldn’t be misled by the occasional rescuer.  Our gals are not whimps, nor are they kung fu experts. Mead does not rely on others to do the hard lifting of solving the case nor of wrestling with the killer, but she is realistic when it comes to how much her protags can do in physical encounters.  She walks the line between over-the-top ninja work to whimpering in fear.  Mead uses surprise and good detective work as well as physical confrontation.

Since my husband and I travelled the US for several years in a tiny motor home, I salivated at the motor home piloted by these two and shed a tear or two when it was taken out of action.  But our gals rent a series of vehicles, usually large, usually trucks to continue their tracking down the killer odyssey.  I found their shifts from truck to truck both funny and delightful.  Maybe there’s just something I love about driving big trucks on those southwestern roads.  I suspect men will find that aspect of the story particularly provocative.

Dana’s daughter says it best when she comments on what she might consider writing if she leaves her job at the paper.  “I just might write a mystery series featuring two sassy senior sleuths who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”  Murder on the Interstate is the third book in the series.  We can hardly wait for the next set of troubles to tantalize Dana and Sarah.

Interesting People Celebrating Beer and Books!

The fellow on the left is Mike Benz, tasting Room Manager for Ithaca Beer Company in Ithaca, NY.  He gave us a tour of the brewery on Saturday.  Using the clear, cold water from Kayuga Lake, the eastern- most of the Finger Lakes, the brewery makes some tasty brews including an IPA named Flower Power, the perfect blend of flower essence with the bitterness of hops.  A quite exciting IPA.

I was in Ithaca as a guest at the spring meeting of a group of individuals-- writers, artists, a massage therapist, a lawyer, teachers, professors, business people and others--who come together twice each year to share friendship.  This meeting their theme was Brewing and Celebration.  On Saturday evening after the tour of the brewery, a dinner pairing food and the local brews was served up with a menu of apple salad, goulash, some of my Butternut Valley ginger stout muffins, and cheese.  The spiciness of the goulash was well balanced by the Ithaca Brewery's red ale.  I recommend a pairing event for your next party or dinner get together.  It's fun.  Don't worry about getting it right.  Just have a selection of beers and try them with your food.  Experiment and see what you like.  Be sure you include your local microbrewery's offerings.

Before dinner the group had an activity called "Advocating" during which each group member shared with us something important to them.  To avoid debates, my hostess, Susan, told me no contradictory opinions were to be offered only silence (no negative gestures) support or questions.  It was an interesting way for members to learn each others opinions and values without bitterness or argument.  "Metaphors" came next.  Each individual brought something to the group built on the theme of the weekend.  These gifts could be humorous such as the witch's costume for brewing or more serious with the presentation of some fine beers from Belgian or a tea cup and tea, also brewed.  The gifts were taken into another room and each individual drew a card for the order in which he or she could select a gift.  The selected gift was hidden somewhere in the house so that people didn't brag about what they had chosen.  Intriguing and sensitively designed events by people who like each other well enough to travel great distances (some drove for more than four hours) to share this weekend.

After dinner I talked to the group about writing, my books, and how the the publishing industry is changing.  Oh,sure, I sold some books, but what I took away was a sense of having experienced a special sharing event.  And, oh yes, I also ate the best brownie I've had in years!