Written in a month by month journal style, Shenandoah Watercolors features rural life in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. I enrolled the book in the kindle lending program where you can borrow it for free at this Amazon link.Shenandoah Watercolors is a 2012 finalist in the nonfiction category of the EPIC Ebook Awards, ‘Kind of a big deal’ in the publishing world. Winners to be announced in March. My American romance Red Bird’s Song is a finalist in the historical romance category. Fingers crossed for a win!
Back to Shenandoah Watercolors:
“This is perhaps the most beautifully written memoir I’ve ever read. Its lovely and languid descriptions of the picturesque valley, the farm and gardens are equaled only by the charming and funny descriptions of the antics (and conversations!) of the farm animals. What a joy this is to read.”
~Amazon Reviewer C. G. King
January Excerpt from Shenandoah Watercolors:
“The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.” ~ Gerard Manley Hopkins
Pale
streaks of mauve feather the western sky above the frozen pond and the
golden glow of the sun illuminates the ice as it sinks below the ridges.The hardcore group of hockey players who’ve been here for hours still whack the puck around the smooth space cleared of snow and a lone couple circle together in one corner, reluctant to leave.
The frigid twilight breeze rustles the dry leaves that cling to the bare branches of the maple and I caught my breath as I trotted Mia past the wintry scene of skaters, timeless in its way. It seems as though the ice will last on and on, but we rarely have more than a week when the pond is frozen hard enough for skating. Weather in the Shenandoah Valley swings back and forth between north and south as though it can’t quite decide which we are.
Considering that my brother John said it was twenty degrees below zero in Vermont, I’d say we qualify as the South, just on the Northern fringes. Our sentiments are decidedly Southern.
Unlike
the dedicated skaters, I scurried back inside. If it weren’t for the
need to exercise my plump little dog and idle self I’d just lie on the
couch like a slug. I’m well into my winter hibernation mode. Every fall I
swear this lethargy won’t overcome me, but inevitably it does. Ernest
Miggleton remains immune. He’s one pesky kitten since we took the tree
down and climbs into the cabinets, raids the trash, steals Elise’s new
fuzzy socks, her fluffy dog toy, and annoys the heck out of the big
kitties. But all this sport pales in comparison to the daily assaults he
launched on that enticing pine, resplendent with baubles hung just for
his amusement.
Elise
pointed out how seriously bored Ernest was yesterday as he perched
eagerly beside her printer waiting for it to whir and buzz magically to
life. She’d just finished printing a paper for ninth grade English lit
and he was enthralled. Every time she gathered him up he wriggled to get
back into position, not wanting to miss anything. So she printed
another page, but that only feeds his fetish.We’re endeavoring to find the little fellow a hobby. He has expressed interest in bird watching, the nurture of mice, and collecting kewl stuff.~
*Our latest kitten rescue is our Siamese mix, Pavel, picture by daughter Elise. *Snow covered Nandina berries photograph by my mom Pat Churchman. *Sunset over the frozen lake I bought from istock because I don’t have a good one on hand and out pond isn’t currently frozen.
*My brother John Churchman is an amazing photographer gaining much long overdo recognition. For his scenic, artistic images visit: Brickhouse Studios
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