We’re kicking Three Days on Mimosa Lane fun off big time beginning Monday–with my blog tour, where you can win great prizes at every stop and one commenter will take home a KINDLE PAPERWHITE ;o)
To prime the pump, I’m giving away a $5 Amazon gift certificate and an eBook of Three Days over at Fresh Fiction.
TODAY ONLY.
Just read the post, learn a little more about the book, and comment for your chance to win.
Don’t miss the fun ;o)
You hardly ever know what’s making a memory until the moment’s practically gone. Now can slip away so fast, then in a blink we want it back so badly. The things that anchor those memories are equally surprising when we discover them. People and places and experiences flash back with the simplest sounds and sensations: the feeling of wind against our skin, the smell of breakfast sizzling on the stove, the spell a particular song casts, the sparkle of a child’s laugh at dusk…
I had oddest sensation this morning with my teen and his friend as they took part in a neighborhood-type garage sale, where they set up a couple of tables along side friends and did their best to raise spending money for an upcoming band trip with the flotsam we had lying around our garage and a few electronic and household things we dug out of cabinets and the attic.
Everyone was laughing and having a good time and up at the crack of dawn and feeling like they were wasting their time when no one stopped by at first but hanging in there anyway. Then the cars began to show and people began to wander up and sift through things and the boys started haggling. I let them be–Mom’s can be such a drag. Then I drove and bought everyone (including the neighbors) breakfast and brought it back.
And it occurred to me as I did, what a warm, happy moment we were making, just going about our lives but having a mini-adventure, too, in a way I was somehow sure we’d never want to forget.
Weird, I know. It was only a garage sale. But I could feel it (it was one of those special occasions where I felt it WHILE it was happening), that future moment when I’d some day gaze back and remember this day and where we’re living now and how crazy, normal, bizarre things like selling your junk in the driveway was once the height of Saturday morning excitement. (more…)
