Kathy L. Wheeler writes contemporary and historical romance. She loves the NFL, NBA,
musical theater, travel, reading, and … karaoke! She moved from tornado alley
to the Pacific Northwest and is enthralled with the weather there. Learn more
about her and her books at her website.
My husband and I were at my cousin's house the other day for an impromptu cookout. It was so much fun. However, in the course of the kitchen conversation, he blurted out, "Kathy has a black thumb."
I looked at him a
little dumbfounded and said, “What? What the hell is a black thumb?”
“It means you
can’t grow anything.”
Now, I take
umbrage with that statement. For years, before our move to the northwest, he
was always trying to get me to garden. Garden! I admit, I was clueless
when it came to gardening. My mother said that when I was little, I would come
in the house crying because I had dirt on my hands. I hated it. I still kind of
hate it, truth be known.
Still. Really? A
black thumb?
When we decided on
our move to western Washington and bought our house, our dog Angel, our cat
Carly, and I drove up a month before my husband was able to join us. My aunt
and my late dad’s wife came over one afternoon for “high” tea (I was really
creative, if I say so myself! Cucumber and egg salad sandwiches,
notwithstanding) brought me a housewarming gift—a rose bush. I looked at them
and said, “Um. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Just put it on
the back porch and let it acclimate to the weather. Then plant it in the ground,”
they said (almost simultaneously).
Yeah, right.
I put it on the
back porch for several days. Then my husband called to say he would arrive in a
couple of days. I grabbed the bush, drove to Tacoma, and found an Ace Hardware.
I took in my bush and showed it to the employee and said, “I don’t know what to
do.”
I ended up buying
a small shovel, rose plant food, Miracle Grow, etc. etc.
I wanted that damn
bush in the ground before he got there. Otherwise, it would be things like: Do
you know what you are doing? Why are you planting it there? You need more dirt…Blah
blah blah.
In any event, I
planted my little rose bush.
See the photo
above? I ask you: Who has a black thumb?
Mail Order Bride: The
Counterfeit
The Mail Order Bride
Series, Book 1
After
a disastrous first marriage, Will Jeffers hasn’t the stomach for another
emotionally entailed union. All he needs is a wife to cook, nurse his mother,
and look after the homestead. But good women are few and far between in
Colorado mining country. A mail order bride is the perfect solution.
Amelia
Johannasen is running for her life. Her mother, the town saloon madam, has
decided it’s time her daughter joined the family business, shattering Amy’s
dreams of marrying for love. Imagine her surprise when she is mistaken for Will
Jeffers mail order bride.
She
has a head for numbers and a talent for spinning tall-tales but no notion of
how to cook or nurse a manipulative old woman. Can she reach the heart of a man
once burned so badly, he’s sworn off love?
2 comments:
Hi, Lois. How fun to be here! Thank you for hosting me.
If you have a husband like mine? Well, enjoy...
We're delighted to feature you today, Kathy!
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