Monday, December 7, 2015

DIVERGENT DEATHS


DIVERGENT DEATHS, the third book in THE BANNER BLUFF MYSTERY SERIES is now available on Amazon as a paperback or as an eBook for your Kindle or iPad.
http://tinyurl.com/jr587el

It looks like the best one yet!  Get your copy soon!

Sunday, August 2, 2015

La Chapelle St. Sépulcre



La Chapelle St.-Sépulcre is a tiny village about 80 kilometers south of Paris near Montargis in the Loiret.   Montargis is known as the Venise du Gatinais due to its many canals.  But unfortunately, la Chapelle had no creek, no lake, no stream.  This was the main complaint of my brothers-in-law and sister-in-law.  They claimed the village needed water to give it charm.  But in my memories it glows idyllic.

            As a young Mother I spent the month of August at the family country home with my three children. The house and its outbuildings were once the hunting lodge of my husband’s great grandfather.  The walls were two feet thick and kept the house warm in winter and cool in summer.  The main building was relatively near the road, but was separated by a high iron fence and tall bushes.  Behind the house, to the South was a large meadow bordered by woods. At the time of the Allied Invasion this meadow had been filled with the tents and fires of the American troops chasing down the Nazis 

            Meandering through the woods was a wide dirt path, l’allée To the East were tennis courts with orchards beyond. To the West was the “potager,” the vegetable garden.  The woods, the meadow, the garden, the orchard, all of it was surrounded by a sturdy iron fence.  This was the summer wonderland of my children.

            Each morning we would have big bowls of café au lait flavored with chicory.  The bread basket was filled with slices of day-old baguette that had been toasted on the woodstove.  There were jars of ruby-red plum jam and golden apricot preserves.  On a blue and white oblong plate was a large slab of sweet butter from a neighboring farm.  After breakfast the children would escape to the meadow until I had finished my second cup of coffee and chatted about the day with my Mother-in-law, Mère, and my sister-in-law, Laurence.  As we were chatting, Yvonne would arrive from the village.  She would sing out, “Bonjour Mesdames.” She was a, sturdy red-faced woman with a cheerful disposition.  She appeared in the morning to do the previous evening’s supper dishes as well as the breakfast dishes.  Then she aired the beds, swept the floor and prepared the vegetables for the evening soup.

            Often before her arrival, Emil could be found in the potager; weeding, watering and fussing with the vegetable plants.  He had a long white moustache and sparkling eyes.  He wore wooden shoes, tattered woolen pants and a moth-eaten sweater. Emil had worked this garden long before the war and felt a curious allegiance to my Father-in-law and the family.  Periodically, he would stop to smoke his pipe, and growl at the children as they gamboled around the garden.  Each day, before leaving he would pick the vegetables that were ready to be harvested and bring them in to Yvonne.  

            After breakfast, I would harness the children for their summer homework of reading and writing.  Then, my three darlings and their cousins would escape into the meadow and woods, safely protected by the surrounding fence.  Often they would not appear until lunch having climbed trees, built forts and ridden bikes around the allée and on the tennis court.  They seemed to be eternally entertained. 

            After a luncheon of perhaps, tomato salad, veal scallops, sautéed potatoes, cheeses and peaches in red-wine, Mère and Père, my mother and father-in-law, would rest and I would take the children off for tennis lessons or a long walk in the woods or a trip to the swimming pool in Montargis. 

            But the best moment of the day, was tea time at 4:30 or 5:00.  We would prepare the tea tray with a cheerful rustic napkin.  There would be slices of pain d’epice (spice cake),” cake”, which in France is a fruit cake; pieces of dark chocolate, Petit Beurre cookies and meringues.  We would fill the ancient pewter tea pot which was happily round and squat with an acorn for a handle.  It was accompanied by matching sugar and creamer - two roly-poly dwarf pots topped with miniature acorns.

            Mère loved tea time.  She loved sweets of all kinds and there was always an over-abundance of cookies and cakes.  She spoiled the children.  She spoiled me and she spoiled herself.  I think her delight in pastries went back to the war when there was no sugar, no cakes and little food of any kind…when a spoonful of green-tomato jam was a special treat.

            We would gather in the garden for the daily ritual.  There was a clearing in the allée with a wrought-iron table and matching chairs… painted white.  We would place the tea tray on the table and sink in the chairs.  The children would bounce around or sit on laps and we would delight in our luxurious repast.  Conversation flowed smoothly with gurgles of happy laughter.

In my mind’s eye, it was always sunny and happiness warmed our hearts and souls.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Re-invented 

I've been re-invented from French Teacher to Literary Motivator and Consultant!

I spent the last two days back at York High School.  I spoke to the Creative Writing classes about Writing Strategies, the Power of the imagination and Freedom Writing. They were interested in how I became a writer and about all my travels.  With prompts, the students wrote imaginative, creative prose.  It was exciting!  I've missed the golden age of adolescence.

 

Monday, February 2, 2015

A FIX FOR WINTER DOLDRUMS

One day last winter, I picked up my eleven year old granddaughter and three friends at 10:30 AM. It was five degrees with a sprinkling of snow.   School was out for the day and there would be no school on Friday or Monday.  The mood was beyond exuberant.  In a flash NPR was gone, replaced by B96 at ear-popping decibels.  Singing along, taking selfies, giggling,...with these girls, I suddenly felt alive.  Here’s a poem to celebrate the moment:

A car ride with four eleven year old girls
Winter doldrums?  Need a fix?
Spend some time with preteen chicks.
Effervescent, sweet delight,
Joy in action, bliss in flight
Katy Perry hear her Roar
Giggles plenty, voices soar
Long hair flipping, raspberry lips
Taking life in sparkling sips
No tomorrow, just today
On the edge of child’s play.


Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Little poem

I liked the Goodread's quote of January 23rd  from Edith Wharton:  There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that receives it.  It made me remember a poem I wrote some year's ago.  I'll share it with you:



The Mirror that is you

Each one of us is a multifaceted mirror. 
A sparkling reflection to bring pleasure… 
Or pain to those around us.

Let your love and acceptance shine on your children. 
Reflect strength and wisdom to their tender hearts. 
Let them feel the warmth of your delight.

The world is dense, cold and hard. 
Let your spouse find a haven in your eyes 
Through your smile, your demeanor, small gestures, 
Mirror admiration and appreciation of their unique qualities.

Do not forget your siblings whose world might seem estranged. 
In truth you share the same intricate genome of values. 
Let your words, your voice warm the heart of your brother. 
Laugh with your sister and share your kindred spirit.

There is great power in the mirror that is you. 
Use it to affirm and strengthen those you love.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Lake Forest High School Event


News

  • Local Author Shares Writing Experiences with LFHS Young Idea Club

    Posted December 20, 2014
    Young Idea, the art and literary magazine club, welcomed Lake Bluff author, Deborah Rine, to the December 11th meeting. Mrs. Rine was a French teacher at York High School and began her writing career upon retirement. She has published three books: Raw Guilt, The Lake, and Face Blind. Mrs. Rine spoke of her life experiences and how they have shaped her stories and main characters. She then led the group through some creative thinking and writing exercises.