Kensi always wants what she's not allowed to have. She wants to sit where she's not allowed to sit. Here, she's on the top shelf of my knick knack stand...forbidden territory. But little Miss Kensi isn't content. She wants to play with Hubby's mounted deer head. If only her arms were a little longer...

I now have a treadmill. It’s in my basement, facing the big window looking out into our backyard. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how Darling Hubby found me a used one. Well, yesterday, we went to pick it up. The trip alone was a bit of an adventure. He had to put the battery charger on the old pickup truck to get it started. It’s a 1990 Chevy Silverado Heavy Duty. We bought it new when gas was around a dollar a gallon. I love that truck. It pulled my horse trailer for many years. The horse and the trailer are gone, but we still have the truck. We just can’t afford to drive it. I commented to DH as we cruised down the road yesterday, “I feel like I’m on top of the world.” Compared to my Saturn Ion, where my backside is about six inches off the ground. DH just grinned. He loves that truck, too. What we expected to be a forty-five minute trip turned into an hour. One way. Gracie Garmin, the GPS, took us a long way around to avoid 25MPH traffic through a park. But it was a nice day t...

The thermometer has reacquainted itself with the sixty degree mark…even if just for a couple of days…so I’ve been able to shed the funk I’ve been along with my winter coat. But it’s not only the weather that’s lifted my spirits. Yesterday, I downloaded the proofs for the upcoming Guppies Anthology, Fish Tales , including my short story “A Murder Runs Through It.” All contributors were asked to check their pieces for typos and such. I’m a lousy editor where my own work is concerned, so the fact that nothing glaring jumped out at me doesn’t mean much. Well, it means that after the thing is published and readers start pointing mistakes out to me, I’ll have no one to blame but myself. The other thing that perked me up yesterday was the release of the list of Agatha Award nominees . I’m thrilled to see so many friends’ names. I was jumping up and down as if I were on the list. Hey, if I’m not there, at least I can live vicariously through my mystery writing pals. Congratulations all around!

I'm over at Working Stiffs today blogging about my role as Conference Yoda for the 2011 Pennwriters Conference. Actually, I'm touting the wonderful work done by this year's conference coordinators while I simply sit in my cave in my swamp and offer advice. Come over and see what's in store for this year's conference goers.

I shot this while wandering around my yard this afternoon. I love the texture of the bark and the contrast of the snow and the blue sky.

Yes, I know I haven’t been blogging as much as I should. My excuse? It’s winter and there hasn’t been anything to write about other than the miserable snow and cold. And since I’ve been griping about that since early December, I figure it’s getting old. To show how miserable this winter has been, let me tell you what just happened this morning that absolutely made my day. My darling hubby came home with the news that someone he works with is selling a really nice treadmill for really cheap. As in we-can-afford-it cheap. Did I want it, he asked. Hell yes, I want it, I replied. Pathetic, don’t you think? With the aforementioned snow and cold, I haven’t been getting out to walk. With the dreary, dark mornings, I’ve been sleeping in all too frequently instead of getting my backside out of bed to workout or do yoga. As a result…well, let’s just say not only don’t my skinny jeans fit, but I’m starting to fill out the fat jeans. Plus, my mother keeps coming out of the grocery store with baker...

Over at Working Stiffs, I'm subbing for Will today. Since there was a little football game going on during the time I would normally write my blog post, I simply made it a diary of the Super Bowl. Unfortunately, the ending didn't turn out the way I'd hoped, but if you can stand to see a grown woman cry, come on over and check it out.

Steeler mania is rocking my brain this week, and since it's my day to blog at Working Stiffs , what else would I possibly write about?

It’s too early for spring fever, but signs that we’ve had our fill of winter are cropping up all around. This coming Wednesday is Groundhog Day. The little town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania becomes the focus of the world for one morning each year. Punxsutawney isn’t all that far from here. Easy driving distance to be honest. However, don’t look for me in the crowd. More often than not, February 2nd is a crappy, gray, cold, snowy day, and I am not a morning person. Besides, is there any doubt what the little rodent is going to predict? If he sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t, about a month and a half. No, I look for other signs of spring. Hubby is talking about getting his fishing license. That’s a good one. The RV show in Pittsburgh has already come and gone. I missed it, though, darn it. Last winter, I had great fun there, although I still refuse to consider owning a camper that’s nicer and bigger than my house. The best sign of spring for me came in the mail t...

The Pittsburgh Steelers are Super Bowl bound yet again. The thrill never gets old. Possibly because the Steelers know how build tension and create drama better than most thriller writers. We never seem to play some boring old blow-out game. Never mind that minutes before halftime, the score last night was Steelers 24-Jets 0. Like a good mystery/suspense/thriller writer, they had to throw in a twist at the midpoint by letting the Jets get a momentum shifting field goal. Then came the second half. The Jets scraped and clawed their way back into the game and the Steelers seemed content to let them. Just to keep us fans on the edge of our seats. One never falls asleep in front of the TV during a Steelers game. I’ve learned a lot about writing a good page-turner by watching Steelers football games over the years. Never mind that about half of my gray hairs can be directly attributed to this team I affectionately refer to as “the Cardiac Kids.” The big lesson is keep the fan—or reader—guessi...

A morning in Kensi's life. In her words. I very cute. But bored. Must find trouble to get into. Let's PLAY! I vicious beast! Rawrrr! Attacking toy ball. Must kill it! Ah, there's big sister Skye looking much too content. And now she has a toy. MY toy! Gimme my toy! Oops. Skye means business. I outta here. BYE!

On a cold night in December, my Citizen's Police Academy class toured the Allegheny County Medical Examiner's Office. As in morgue. I'm sharing the experience today at Working Stiffs .

One of my Christmas gifts this year was a Nook e-reader. I dragged my feet a long time regarding the e-book phenomenon, but rather than get left in the dust of what seems to be the brave new world of publishing, I asked Santa for the Nook, and he acquiesced. (Actually, I told my husband what I wanted and he told me to go out and buy it. Much easier.) Anyway, I’ve stocked it with books…something that is dangerously easy to do…and carry it with me everywhere I go. Something odd has started happening. At least, it seems odd to me. In the short time I’ve had the thing, TWICE total strangers have approached me while I was reading and started a discussion about e-readers. Even odder is the fact that both times it was a man. Okay, don’t try telling me these guys were flirting…I’m too old for that crap. They weren’t. Trust me. I can’t remember the last time someone came up to me when I was reading a real book and asked me about it. And these guys weren’t asking “what are you reading?” They wer...

It’s a good thing one of my New Year’s resolutions wasn’t to stop procrastinating, because here it is, January 9th and I’m only now getting around to sorting out my goals and intentions for the year. Basically, I’m limiting my resolutions to TWO this year. I’m tired of failing at a long list of things. Better to only fail at two, don’t you think? First, I intend to get back to my health and fitness routine. I’d rather say I was planning to expand on it, but I’ve really derailed, so simply getting back on track will make me happy. I can handle the yoga, weight workouts, and eating healthier parts. But getting on a good walking routine when it’s 11 degrees outside will be a real challenge. Anyone have an old treadmill taking up space that you’d like to donate to my cause? The second goal is one that I really hope I can stick to. I hope to write every day. I’ve never really stated that before, because I’ve known that I’d fail at it. Life and family get in the way. And I may very well fail...

Last night I graduated from the Pennsylvania State Police Citizen's Police Academy. We had a lovely buffet dinner and received our certificates of completion. I'm still not a cop, but I feel I can write about them with much greater understanding now. Over on Working Stiffs, however, I'm still only on Week 8 of CPA, which was the week we toured the Allegheny County Jail and visiting night court. Click here to read about the experience.

A large portion of 2010 was clouded by my hubby’s seven-month bout of unemployment. And I started out the year by parting company with my agent. Nevertheless, there were some moments worthy of acknowledgment before we send the year packing. First would be February’s snowmageddon. It was one of those things that’s better to look back on than it was to live through. Once the roads were cleared and the power restored, we had to travel to Confluence to shovel six-plus feet of snow from our camper’s roof. This involved snowshoeing into the campground, which was an adventure by itself. Continuing 2010’s fun with foul weather, in March, our local Sisters in Crime chapter ventured to Confluence (otherwise known as weather central) during a major flood (not part of the plan) for our weekend writing retreat. I can’t believe none of us have written a murder mystery story about that weekend yet. While the rising river vied for our attention, we did manage to have a lot of fun, eat a lot of food,...

I’ve lived my entire life on property that at one time belonged to my grandfather. My folks built a house on one corner of Grandpap’s farm. When I married, we built our house on another ten-acre chunk of it. These two lots are the only ones that remain in the family. Over the years, I’ve mourned as the rest of acreage was sold off to others. But some things didn’t change. The neighboring farm remained in the same family it had since long before I was born. Mr. C kept a large herd of beef cattle on several hundred acres. As I sit in my office at my computer, I look out my window to a view of his hillside. Pasture, some woods, and those beef cattle. Amazing how you take something for granted when it’s been there for decades. Mr. C is one of those guys you just assume will go on forever. He never changes. Except he is. He’s getting older, like the rest of us. His hips are bad, so his jaunts around his property are done on tractor instead of on foot. Still, he loves his herd of cattle. Or ...

Anyone who knows me will tell you I am not a fan of winter. I don’t ski or ice skate. I used to love to sled ride, but suspect I’d break something vital if I tried it now. At least if I tried some of the stunts I did when I was a kid. But that’s a blog for another day. No, I don’t much care for cold weather, snow, and ice. Hibernation has always seemed like a good idea to me. And when people ask me if I miss owning horses, I can honestly say, yes. I miss Jenny and Brandy and Gypsy. And most of the others who passed through my barn. However I do not miss breaking ice out of water buckets and chopping up frozen manure and sawdust to clean the stalls. This morning, though, I bundled up in multiple layers and headed to Mountaineer to visit my friend Jessi. The excuse was that we had Christmas gifts to exchange and I had Avon stuff to deliver to her. But I really needed to get my hands on a horse. Yes, I’m an addict and there are times when nothing else will quench the craving…twenty degree...

Today at Working Stiffs , I'm blogging about week 7 of Citizens' Police Academy. It feels odd because last night I actually attended week 10 of it. Since I'm only blogging at Working Stiffs every other Wednesday now, I'm behind. So while last night I heard all about the relationship between the police and the media, I'm blogging about drug investigations. Come check it out.

I figured I'm overdue for both a Photo Friday post AND an update on the cats, so here goes. While it's still not sisterly love, at lease we've reached a truce of sorts. Kind of a sisterly tolerance. And here's Skye taking a bath. Kensi doesn't look much like a kitten any more. Still acts like it, though. And she loves having her picture taken.