Christmas Memories by Debby Myers

Here we are. One more month in the year. Another year gone by. We all say it. Time goes by too quickly. December is a special time. The month of the birth of Jesus. Christmas. A time that we all look forward to for different reasons. Being 59, of course, I’ve seen that many Christmases. Why is it that some stand out over the others?

My first Christmas memory dates back to when I was five years old, waiting patiently at Grandma Gigi’s house for one of my aunts to start handing out presents. Gigi loved to cook, so every Christmas morning she got up before dawn and prepared a feast. At least it looked like one to a little girl. All the comfort foods were there – the best fried chicken I’ve ever had, noodles, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans seasoned with bacon, buttered fresh corn cut off the cob, homemade biscuits with her special jam. And for dessert, her own cobbler and coconut cake. Gigi wouldn’t let us open presents until we stuffed ourselves first. That’s my first memory.

When I was around seven, my Grandma Betty let us come over to hang big shiny red balls on her Christmas tree. It wasn’t a traditional tree. The branches were silver tinsel. After the red balls were hung, she turned on the rotating light that shined a rainbow of different colors on the tree making it the most beautiful Christmas tree I believed I had ever seen.

Then there was the year I remember crying and crying because there was no snow for Christmas. Since there was no snow, I was convinced that Santa wouldn’t come. Mom struggled to make ends meet. I wanted a suede bomber jacket like my close friends had. I wanted it so much, but I knew mom couldn’t afford a coat that cost $100. (I thought that was a lot). Instead of asking for it, I asked for something else, and now I don’t even remember what that was. But guess what? Mom knew how much I wanted that coat. When I opened my gift on Christmas Eve with all of my family on my mom’s side there, I got my suede coat! I screamed. I hugged and kissed mom. I put it on and wore it the entire evening. I remember thinking she must have sacrificed something to get it for me. And I can’t remember ever being happier about a Christmas gift - even now.

Of course, there are many more Christmases that come to mind.

The year I was heartbroken because my older cousin revealed there was no Santa Clause.

The next memory of a Christmas holiday that stands out was when I was in seventh grade. My parents had divorced, and we moved into a trailer next to Hillcrest Lanes (remember the fun we all had there back then).

The year I went to my first candlelight service at church with a friend in high school. I was in awe of the love that touched me and made me a believer in the true meaning of the holiday.

The year I had moved to Texas with my ex, who had joined the army. I didn’t know anyone yet. I couldn’t afford to buy my own daughter Christmas gifts and a neighbor that I barely knew handed me (yes, gave it me) money and took me shopping for her.

The year I bought my oldest granddaughter a red velvet dress with white fur. She was only a year old, but she twirled around and around saying she was ‘soooo pitty’. She was the life of the party.

The year that I finally got to see my dad just before Christmas. He was in prison for habitual DUI arrests, and it had been nearly ten years that he’d been gone. He met my two daughters, his granddaughters, that day for the very first time. That Christmas will remain in my heart as one of my best, since he passed away suddenly one month later. 

We all know I could go on. There are even some years of my life I don’t remember Christmas at all. I hope hearing my memories will bring out many of your own. Be sure to share them with your grandkids.

"May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white."

Debby Myers has enjoyed writing since she was a little girl. She has just completed her third novel, the last installment of “The Vee Trilogy.”

In her spare time she directs plays for Ole Olsen Memorial Theater. She is a member of the Indiana Thespians judging high school theater competitions. Debby’s favorite pastime of all is spending time with her five grandchildren.

Her books are all available now on Amazon or get a signed copy directly from her by contacting her on her Facebook page “The Vee Trilogy.” 

And then this happened... by Liz Flaherty

It's been a busy week, and an exciting one, which means I won't be doing a regular post today. I'll be back, I promise!

The third and final book in the Second Chances Series from Magnolia Blossom Publishing is out! Not in paperback yet, although that will happen soon. 

In the midst of a summer of change, they’re both searching for an anchor.

Dinah is a mom, a giver, and a doer, so she’s used to change, but this summer is kind of overdoing that. The diner where she’s worked for half her life is closing, her college-age kids aren’t coming home for the summer, and a property on nearby Cooper Lake is calling her name, bringing long-held dreams of owning a B & B to the fore. Newcomer Zach Applegate is entering into her dreams, too.

Divorced dad, contractor, and recovering alcoholic Zach is in Fallen Soldier, Pennsylvania, to visit his brother and to decide what’s coming next in his life. He doesn’t like change much, yet it seems to be everywhere. But he finds an affinity for remodeling and restoration, is overjoyed when his teenage sons join him for the summer, and he likes Dinah Tyler, too. A lot.

Dinah and Zach each experience sorrow and tumult, but go on to dance in the kitchen. Together, they have something, but is it enough?

You can order it here. 

Then, for today, Debby Myers, Joe DeRozier, and I will be selling signing books at Revived at 53 E. 5th Street in Peru from 12:30 to 3:30 PM. I think Trunk or Treat is going on at the same time, so it looks like a fun afternoon for everyone concerned. 

Update: Debby Myers won't be able to join us today. 

I'll be back at the Window next Saturday. I hope to see you at Revived this afternoon. If not, have a great week and be nice to somebody!

Just Talking... by Liz Flaherty

It was a dark and stormy night...

Well, no, it wasn't. But my mind refuses to settle in today. Even if I can think of something to write about, I don't get much further than the first sentence. Usually it's a little more original than the one above, but not always. So, let's just talk. Want to?

We went to Fort Wayne on Thursday. We did the errands we had to and then had dinner at Hall's Tavern at Coventry. I'm not a fan of cities with lots of roads and traffic in them, but I do like that restaurant a lot. 

On Tuesday, we needed milk, so I went up to Raber's at Gilead. I had so much fun walking around looking that I almost forgot the milk. It's one of my favorite places to buy cheese, so I got some of Duane's favorite kind but neglected to get myself any. So now I have to eat his. 

I'm writing a new book and having so much fun with it. It's different, and I'm using first person, which I haven't done in years. If I had a dollar for every time I've written she instead of I, there'd be no reason to finish the book--I'd already have lots of money.

I have a cover for my latest book (not the one I just mentioned), but no release date yet. It'll be soon, though, so keep an eye out for Book 3 of Second Chances, The Summer of  Sorrow and Dance. I had a lot of trouble writing this book, although I'm pleased with it now that it's done. Its title, although it fits the story, has fit me, too, in this long season since my sister passed in April. The dancing part of it, for me, is metaphorical--having to do with my two left feet--but it's real, too. I will miss her always, but there's joy in the sorrow now. That's the dance. 

Election's coming up soon. Don't forget to vote. Do I necessarily think everyone's vote counts the same? No. But if you don't vote, it can't count at all. 

Regine Brindle

Hasn't the fall foliage been spectacular this year? Regine Bridle's photographs have made sure the colors will remain in memory long after the leaves are gone. Checking Gallery 15's Facebook page to see what Sarah Luginbill's painting with pumpkins and Ron Luginbill is building with gourds is always an interesting way to spend some time. Stopping in to visit is even better. 

I hope you'll stop by Revived at 53 E. 5th St. on October 29. The store will be open all day, but Debby Myers, Joe DeRozier, and I will be signing books from 12:30 to 3:30 PM. We hope to see you there!

Have a great week! Be nice to somebody!

The Act of Caring by Debby Myers

Dorothy and Alan Myers

Added Sunday, September 11 - Dorothy Pearl Owens Myers passed peacefully in her sleep at 9:01 PM on September 10. Alan was holding her hand. May she rest in peace and  joy.

Before I begin, I want to assure you that what I’d like to share is with the encouragement of my husband. Also know that I am, in no way, making light of what is happening right before his eyes. His mama is suffering from dementia, and she is dying.

For the last three years, Alan has been taking care of Dorothy at her home. It takes a special person to do this. Helping a parent isn’t easy, but being able to give back has many rewards. It stems from a promise he made her years ago during a conversation about dying. She said she wanted no artificial means to keep her alive, she appointed him her power of attorney, and said she would plan her own funeral. And last, she wanted to die at home if at all possible, without being a burden.

That is what Alan is giving her. Dorothy became homebound when she returned from their winter home in Florida with a virus that had nearly taken her life in March 2019. She’s on oxygen for COPD, making her high risk. Dorothy is a self-described tough farm girl. And she is right! In three years, she’s survived a heart virus that weakened her heart, a broken shoulder, Covid 19, and a broken hip, as well as a number of episodes of anxiety. Yes, Dorothy is one tough cookie!

I wanted to give you some background before getting into the meat of this message. A son, youngest child of four, on disability for his back, and my husband – has become his mama’s full-time caregiver. Yes, full-time, for 2 ½ years now. He has a few women, including his niece, who help him out, but make no mistake, even then he is watching on the camera in her room.

We want to share things Dorothy says to Alan that he says keep him sane, make him smile and giggle. But Dorothy says other things making him sympathetic to her declining health and dementia. Here are a few of those exchanges.

D: “Hey, where’s the man that feeds me?”

A: “Mom, that’s me.”

D: “No, not you. I want to see that man who feeds me.”


D: “I’m hungry.”

A: “Mom, you finished your lunch fifteen minutes ago.”

D: “No, I didn’t. I’m hungry.”

A: “OK, let’s eat!”


D: “Where’s my mom? I want to talk to my mom.”

A: “Mama, remember your mom went to heaven a long time ago.”

D: “Please, can I talk to my mom?” (then she cries)


D: “Am I old?”

A: “No, Mama, you’re only as old as you feel.”

D: “I must be, because you said I was.”
 

D: “Where is this?”

A: “What do you mean?”

D: “Why won’t you take me home? I want to go home.”

A: “You are home. This is your home. You’re here with me, and you’re safe.”

D: “You don’t understand.”


D: “Go tell your dad.”

A: “Tell him what, Mama? Remember Dad is gone. He died a few years ago.”

D: (Long pause) “Oh, but I just saw him.”


D: “Why won’t you give me my purse? No one will give me my purse!” (angry)

A: “I’ll get your purse. Why do you want your purse?”

D: “I have to get stuff out. My stuff.”


D: “Where’s my car?”

A: “Remember, we sold your car a while back.”

D: “I want it back! I’m going to go get it. I have somewhere to go.”

I am there visiting. Alan asks both of us if we want ice cream. Dorothy says yes, but I decline. He brings the ice cream.

D: “Why didn’t you get her ice cream?”

Me: “It’s OK. I didn’t want any.”

A few minutes later after Alan leaves the room. Dorothy motions me closer and whispers.

D: “I don’t know why he didn’t get you any. Would you like for me to go get it?”

Alan brings in her food tray for dinner.

A: “Sit up, mama. (joking with her) Get a little exercise.”

Dorothy sits up and starts waving her arms in the air like a conductor.

        A: “Mom, see the hummingbird outside at your feeder?”

Without even looking toward the window, she points up toward the ceiling.

A: “No, Mama, over here, outside. Can you see them?”

D: “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask them?”

A: “Ask who?”

D: “Them. They will know.”

She’s pointing at the TV. Andy Griffith is on.

A: “What’s wrong, mama? Why are you crying?”

D: “I am ready. Why doesn’t he take me?” Pointing upward.

A: “I don’t know. He must have more for you to do first.”

D: “I don’t want to do anything else. I’m tired. I want to go be with Jesus now.”

Recently, I took my 6-year-old grandson, Jameson, to visit. Jameson was gentle and sweet with her. He told her things about himself, asked her questions, showed her pictures on his tablet, and took a picture of her to keep. After he left, he told me he was going to take care of his mom when she was old, like Papaw does.

D: “Where did that boy go?”

A: “His daddy picked him up.”

D: “I wanted him to stay. (smiling) He is a good boy.”

D: “I want to get away from here! I want to go home, but not this home. I want to get a sandwich from that old restaurant.”

A: “Mama, you can’t drive. And you need to stay here where you are safe and loved.”

D: “What if I have Dad take me? We can visit Etta May.” (she has been her best friend for many, many years)

D: “I’m getting up. I’m walking right out of here.”

A: “Where do you want to go?”

D: “I’m going to get my car. I want to drive to my mom’s.”

While there is both humor and sadness in each of these, Alan says it’s how he makes it through the day. Dorothy does have occasional moments she is lucid.

Dorothy Myers and friend

Alan is amazed when he turns on hymns for her or the church service. She sings along loudly and knows all the words, even though when she speaks, she can’t finish a sentence. Dorothy is 87 and a woman of faith. I wonder myself why God hasn’t taken her. Why does she have to live through mental anguish, breathing treatments and now dementia? But we don’t get to know, only he does.

Please keep Dorothy in your prayers. And don’t forget Alan. And he’d tell you not to forget me. Although I have sacrificed time with him, I am filled with overwhelming pride for what he’s doing and how he’s doing it. It fills my heart with love watching him with her. Like I said at the beginning, it takes a special person to do this. If you are someone caring for a parent at home, praise to you too.

Giving MS A Place by Debby Myers

Debby Myers brings a special voice to the Window. Her experiences and her writing voice educate and inform as well as--not to be shallow about it--keep us interested. She's a thespian and a circus performer as well as a reluctant voice for Multiple Sclerosis. Welcome her please. Hold your applause till the end, but by all means, let her hear it.

My birthday is this month. From the time I was old enough to remember, it’s been hot outside on my birthday. I used to love it – I could tan, go hang out at the beach, or just enjoy the great outdoors watching my grandkids play. It’s just another perk that I’ve been robbed of by multiple sclerosis. Heat is no longer my friend, especially combined with our Indiana humidity.

I’ve written here before about my MS. It’s been six years now since my diagnosis. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, although I’m not sure I ever will be. It requires me to be in temperatures around 70 degrees as much as possible. Anything more exposes my body, particularly from my ribcage to my toes, to an awakening of prickliness and spasms. Pins and needles in my legs and jolts of uncontrollable muscle jitters in my thighs, along with tightness from my MS hug tugging at my ribcage, begin when the external thermometer climbs over 80.

Lack of tolerance to heat is just one of more than a dozen symptoms in my unpredictable life with this disease. Don’t get me wrong. I know we all suffer from ailments as we age. I’m 59 now. When my six-year-old grandson asked me how old I was going to be on my birthday, and I said 59, he made an awful face. Most days I make that awful face too. If we really are "only as old as we feel," then I must be 159.

A dear friend came to visit me last week. When he saw me, he said he thought I looked good – healthy and happy. I didn’t want to correct him, because I have become an expert at using my acting skills in these situations. I do my best in social interactions to put on my friendly face instead of an awful one. Because MS is one of those invisible conditions, I can get away with that. Despite my appearance, my body is constantly struggling with stability. It’s not to say there aren’t times when I do feel healthier and happier, but not like I used to before February 12, 2016.

I saw my neurologist in May. She told me she’s pleased that the MS is holding stable. I am getting infusions every six months of Ocrevus. FDA approved in 2017, it is the only drug used to treat Primary Progressive MS, so it came just in time for me. When I began taking it, the drug was new, so the only results to base its effectiveness on were trials. It is designed to slow progression of the disease, reduce new lesions that eat away at the myelin on nerve endings that cause new symptoms. For me, it seems to be doing just that. I am grateful.

I made the decision to attend the circus parade this year. It will mean being pushed around in a wheelchair. That is one of the things that wears away at my dignity. That chair is where I’ll be living permanently one day. I don’t even like anyone to see me in it. Yet I can’t miss the parade. My oldest grandgirl is the new drum major for the Maconaquah Marching Braves. She has been playing flute since sixth grade and was part of the group last year when they took the state title. At the parade I will see her for the first time in her hard-earned role. I can’t miss it because of a wheelchair or because of heat.

Often people ask why the wheelchair. Why not a cane or a walker? Well, those can only take me so far. I struggle the most with my legs, particularly my right leg. the signal from the brain that says “lift the front part of your foot” doesn’t make it. My brain says “take a step” but my body only gets part of the instructions. If I try to walk more than a city block, weakness sets in quickly, as does my balance.

Life with MS can be unpredictable and downright odd from day to day, due to the wide variety and severity of symptoms. All of these and more can be frustrating to experience, let alone try to explain to someone. No one sees the pain, the numbness, the tingling, the tinnitus, the eye problems, bowel and bladder problems, weak for a few days, strong for a few days, energy one day, totally weak the next, depression, the frustration.

I try my best to make peace with it, to give it a place. Yet my shelf is not big enough anymore. Sometimes I feel there is just no more room to hold it. Despite all of it, I will continue to fight it. For this is my life, this is my body, and this is my soul. Mine. And now I’m 59.

~*~

Pick up Vex and Valor or Verdicts and Vows at Gallery 15, Anita's Boutique, or from Debby - she'll sign them, too! Book 3 - the climax, Verve and Valor, will be out in the next couple of months, so now is the time to catch up on this amazing trilogy focusing on two families everyone can relate to. 

Also available on Amazon.

What Freedom Means by Debby Myers

With all that’s going on in the world around us, the word "freedom" is at the forefront of our minds and of our discussions. If you look up the word freedom, you’ll find many definitions. Many who are discussing it now are referring to communist Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and losing the freedom they’ve had for thirty years. In that sense it means the absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government. That kind of freedom is unquestionably the most important to anyone living here or in any free country. Pray for the people there.

I decided to ask a 13-year-old girl what freedom means. The answer was, “It means we can do whatever we want.” That is technically correct, to a degree. The freedom she was talking about is the right to act, speak, or think without hindrance or restraint. We are fortunate that our children and grandchildren are growing up free. But I think our young people take it for granted. They have the power of self-determination, the quality of being independent of fate or necessity without giving it a second thought.

Think about what freedom means to you. With its broad definition, it can mean many different things to different people. It’s what I’ve been pondering lately, and I’m sharing at the Window today.

Since having been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, I’ve shared information about my journey. One of the most personal ones I feel is a lack of freedom. Not exactly like the definition meaning not being imprisoned or enslaved, but I do feel imprisoned in my own body. Many would call that a selfish thought. Yet there are definitely things I can no longer do, so I can’t do whatever I want any more, like the teenager said.

Having a chronic disease like this has forced me to accept the limitations on my independence, but that doesn’t mean I like it. There are freedoms that aren’t often questioned until something like this comes at you head-on. Driving was the hardest thing I was told I had to give up. Driving a car gives a feeling of independence and freedom and is a part of learning to take care of yourself. I was in denial that I had to give it up at first, but I was convinced by others that it was for the best, and there’s no way around it. Due to the lesions on my spine, I have little feeling in my right foot and ankle. The entire leg is weak, forcing my left leg to compensate. In addition, cognitive issues not only make driving unsafe for me, but for others. The lesions I had in my brain can randomly get overstimulated. Especially at night, traffic lights, headlights, and rain cause me to get anxiety now, something that didn’t bother me before MS. I can’t think clearly, my eyes lose focus. Both of these symptoms hamper my reaction time. It all becomes a chain reaction of events that mean no driving for me. I still miss this freedom. I have to ask my family or friends to take me wherever I go.

I remember when I complained daily about my job. Truth is, I loved working and miss it terribly. It was another piece of being able to take care of myself. It was rewarding to be able to work hard to be successful, be with people and engage every day, and share my job experience with those around me. It provided financial stability, giving me freedom to give to others, something I miss.

I’ve brought to the Window my love for theater. It’s been more than a hobby for me for half my life. I didn’t want to give it up, even some of it. I’m not free to act on stage due to my physical limitations. It was how my love for theater began. I used to work on the set when I was in a production. I can’t do a lot of that kind of work, either. I can still be involved in directing, but even then, I rely on my assistants more than I used to. I lost part of my creative freedom.

I have to depend on others much more than ever before. Think about who you would turn to. It may be what I’ve fought the hardest. I’ve said I hate it, I won’t do it, it isn’t fair, I don’t need help. Yet what I’ve learned from those who do help me is that they want to do it. They don’t hate it or think it isn’t unfair. They are happy to help. I was talking to my son about paying someone to paint my kitchen cabinets, because I couldn’t do it myself. He told me he would do it. He would buy the paint and accessories, and he wanted to do it because he wanted to help. My cabinets look brand new! And, my husband helps take care of me, as well as care for his ailing mom in her home. He is giving up some of his own freedom. Yet he wants to help us.

I asked you earlier to think about what freedom means to you. Also think about who you could turn to if you lost freedoms. I’ve learned that any kind of freedom that is challenged is met with people who want to help. Don’t be ashamed or afraid to ask. I have to think about that whenever I feel imprisoned. It sets me free.

Thanks to Liz for letting me share today at her Window. Please pray for Ukraine’s freedom – they need our help.

~*~

Vex and Valor - Book 1 - Vanessa and Jason Hayes

Being the oldest at 10 years old, she knew she’d have to console her little brother, JJ, all the way to school. She told him a fib. She told him she found out that Mama and Daddy were both at work. It seemed to appease him. The two started their eight-block walk to school. Vanessa wanted to just forget. She wanted JJ to forget too. By the time school let out, he will have, but not her. Mama never would have left them alone. And it had been a doozy of a fight. No, she wouldn't forget after what she had seen. A large pool of blood on the patio. Bigger than the ones inside.

https://www.amazon.com/Vex-Valor-Vee-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B08VTT9174

Verdicts and Vows - Book 2 - 10 years later 

“Well, sis. Best I just say it. Dad...Ben, got early release. He got out yesterday. He hasn’t contacted me, but the correctional facility called my number to set up his probation appointment, so I assume I will see him soon. I’m not sure where he is. But…” Jason stopped when Vanessa abruptly ran out of the room. “Ness, what are you doing? Vanessa!” Jason yelled, but she had exited into the stairwell.

“Jason, what happened? Why did she take off like that?” Vanessa's husband, Joe, asked.

Jason told Joe about their dad, Ben. His sentence had four months left. Now it made sense. Joe didn’t think he’d heard Vanessa mention Ben since the family dinner at Nana’s all those years ago, when she disclosed to everyone that she had seen him strangle their mother in a drunk rage when she was ten, hiding in a closet with Jason. Their mother died the next day.

https://www.amazon.com/Verdicts-Vows-Vee-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B095CGG7NQ

Coming in late May, Verve and Virtue - Book 3 - 20 more years later

He began to explain going to talk to Dr. Bashar asking her to check into Ella’s case again. While he was in prison, he read that new DNA evidence was proving more and more useful in solving crimes and determining autopsy results. He tearfully told his children that being locked up, all he had was time to think. Knowing that Vanessa held him responsible for their Mama’s death was what weighed on him the most. He said he knew in his heart of hearts he would never have done anything to hurt Ella, no matter how mad he was, or she was. He thought it was worth a shot to have Dr. Bashar check.

Then Ben told them. Their mother had a disease she didn’t even know she had. She inherited it from their Papaw Tim, who also didn’t know he had it. No one did until he passed away and an autopsy was done. It was Ellers-Danlos syndrome, a disease of the connective tissue in the brain. It is what caused the aneurysm that led to her death. If she hadn’t died then, she would have died soon because the disease had built up a blood clot. He didn’t cause his Ella to die.

The only person who didn’t react much was Vanessa. She was skeptical, but afraid too. She watched Ben…her dad. He must have believed he was responsible too. She knew something did happen in that kitchen all those years ago, while she and Jason hid in the closet. She still wanted to keep pushing him to remember how her Mama ended up bleeding and unconscious on the patio. It may have been an aneurysm or mystery disease that she died from, but it didn’t explain her being battered by her drunk husband, Ben.

Debby Myers lives in Peru, Indiana with her husband, Alan. She has three grown children. She has five grandchildren who are the apples of her eye - Makenna,Taylor, Izaac, Jameson, and Joelle. Debby is a graduate of Maconaquah High School and International Business College, where she studied business management. Most recently she was employed as a co-manager for Kroger for 15 years. In the past she co-owned & operated a local day care for seven years, worked in development at the Honeywell Center for five years and "played" as a radio personality for Peru's former radio station 98.5 FM for nearly 10 years. Debby has been involved with Ole Olsen Memorial Theater for 25 years now. She has performed, worked backstage, costumed & served on the Board of Directors. But her true love is directing. This season she will direct her 25th show. Debby is also a member of the Ole Olsen Hall of Fame. Since her diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis in 2016, she has embarked on doing some writing. In her spare time she likes to read, listen to country music, and travel. Having been to 40 of the 50 states, her next destination will be the Eastern part of the US, particularly New York City to see a show on Broadway. 

Come Shop with Us

Welcome to the Window Over the Sink's First Annual Book Sale. Joe, Kathi, Debby, Nan, and I all just know you want to buy books as Christmas gifts, so we thought we'd make it easy for you. 

We also want to thank you for your readership, the laughs you share with us, your reviews, and your kindness. Consider this our leap into the holiday shopping season. Thanks for coming!

Joe DeRozier

Joe DeRozier sits at a big table in his bakery. The sheeter's over there. There are racks with trays of donuts. A police officer stops in. His kids come by. Someone up front wants a particular pastry--does he have it? His mother-in-law visits there. She's beautiful. Joe thinks a lot and writes it down. Those thoughts draw portraits of his mother-in-law, the police officer, and the town he loves. He says he just makes donuts, but he does more. Much more. Welcome to DeRozier's. Enjoy the visit.

Joe's offering both of his books for $30 with $5 shipping.  Book One, Heck, I Don’t Know…I Just Make Donuts, alone would be $20, Book Two, My Dog Pees When Company Arrives…I’m Glad I Don’t, alone is $10.  

You can order off this form. He can mail it or you can pick up at the bakery. He has both books there and you can often con him out of a donut and some really good conversation. https://www.deroziers.com/book-order-form

Kathleen Thompson

Tiger Lily’s Cafe, a Cozy Mystery Series

By Kathleen Thompson

Written for adults; safe for teenagers.

A tourist town on the shore of a Great Lake.

Sunset Avenue, filled with vintage shops and ending at the beach.

A town always in the middle of a mystery or a murder. Or two.

A capable Chief of Police who comes to rely on the town’s famous cats.

Have they really figured out a way to communicate with him?

Find out for yourself! Order using an email form at www.tigerlilyscafe.com.

Mention the holiday sale. Or send an email to kathi@tigerlilyscafe.com.

Debra Jo Myers

The Vee Trilogy - A Family Saga

Written by Debra Jo Myers

For readers who love a good story

 Book one -

Vex and Valor

 

Imagine two families from different sides of the track living in the small railroading community of Brookston, Pennsylvania in 1969.

Tim and Vee Crawford have a picture-perfect life. They are parents to four children and are lifelong residents of a reputable housing development and owners of a successful and popular bakery, Vee's Sweet Treats.

Georgia and Zeke Hayes struggle to make ends meet. They move with four of their seven children from Tennessee after Zeke is hired on the railroad. The family lands in a cul-de-sac for the railroad personnel searching for a better life.

Then a marriage of their two youngest children – Ella Crawford and Ben Hayes despite objection from both families.

They can barely support themselves driving Ben to alcohol. Their children witness fighting between them.

When Ella is found unconscious and the couples' two children are missing, the two families are forced to pull together to find answers. Will the truth ever come out?

 

Book two -

Verdicts and Vows

 

It's 1994 with the two families more entangled than ever.

An attack on Vee's Sweet Treats, the Crawford family bakery. Thugs in masks torment those inside - including members of the Crawford and Hayes families.

A steamy unexpected affair sparks friction.

Forced together again at the wedding of a Crawford granddaughter to a Hayes grandson. When the two bloodlines were introduced, in much the same way in Book One, the union ended in tragedy. Will tragedy strike again?

More discovery comes to light about the unsolved mystery of Ella.

The families twist and turn like a Juniper tree. Readers will become more connected to each character as Book Three begins. The climatic Verve and Virtue will be available soon.

Specially priced at $20 for both books and a Christmas ornament, plus $10 if you wish to have them shipped. You can also buy a single book for $10 and $5 shipping. Order and arrange for shipping or pickup from debra.myers922@yahoo.com or message her Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/debby.mullikin Free wrapping with pickup!

Nan Reinhardt

The Four Irish Brothers Winery is a romantic series from USA Today bestselling author Nan Reinhardt and Tule Publishing. The Flaherty brothers, Sean, Brendan, Conor, and Aidan have inherited their family’s historic winery in River’s Edge, a small town on the banks of the Ohio River that Nan modeled after Madison, Indiana, one of her favorite places. In the two touching and romantic holiday stories from the series, single dad and winemaker, Conor is waking from the grief of losing his wife, and rising star Aidan is an actor on a hit TV series, but has grown tired of the LA glitz and yearns to return to the stage. Maybe an old showboat can make that dream a reality. If you love sweet small town Christmas romances, you will fall in love with Books 1 and 3 of the Four Irish Brothers Winery series.

A Small Town Christmas

Christmas with You

https://nanreinhardt.com/four-irish-brothers-winery/

Liz Flaherty

You've been reading the Window ever since it opened over 30 years ago, and I am so grateful! Many of the columns have made their way into the books pictured above. They're available from online booksellers all over the place...or from me. Print copies would make...are you ready for it?...excellent Christmas gifts, especially signed and with a free ornament included in the package! I'm offering both books for $20 plus $5 shipping, or you can pick them up from me. 

 You can order from this form, email me, PM me, or leave a message here. 

Trees, Flags, and Better Days by Liz Flaherty

I'm writing this early (very unusual--I'm more likely to be writing the column before dawn on Saturday morning), so if it seems "out of time," it probably is. 

What do you do when you write a column that tries very hard to focus on the positive, but your neighbor two miles away is flying a Nazi flag on his property and you've heard the news that someone--presumably the state of Indiana--plans on removing the trees that line State Road 16 along its path through Denver? 

These are not--for me--positive things. Not that the neighbor doesn't have the right to fly that flag if he likes; it's part of the First Amendment, which is one of my favorites, and indicative of his values--something we are all entitled to express. 

Removing trees is a hard one for me, because I'm too old to see replacement trees grown up, and if the ones there now are removed, I'll never again appreciate the string of silver maples that shelter the front porches that line Denver's main drag. However. There's always a however, isn't there?

 

Sara Musselman

Yeah, it's a hard one.

But look what showed up on Facebook this morning. My friend Mary Snow shared it, and I was so glad to see it again. It's just the best idea, and I'm going to start my Advent collection on November 1 instead of December 1, so that it can go to the food pantry in time for the holidays. 

Last week, I read aloud at an Open Mic at Gallery 15, performing among singers and a "chalk talk" presentation by Sarah Luginbill. It was such a fun evening. I'm always amazed at people who say "there's nothing to do," but they never show up when things are going on. 

Trunk or Treats are everywhere--have you noticed? I was going to put a list here, but it got too long. Visit the Facebook page Positive Future of Peru, Indiana and find them. I love Trunk or Treats, don't you? They are gifts from those who care, and we can't have too many of them. 

Maconaquah's marching band brought home the prize from the ISSMA Scholastic state finals. We saw part of their performance--the First Place was definitely deserved. 

Borrowed from the Kokomo Tribune

We had a book-signing recently. I got to sit at a table with Debby Myers and Joe DeRozier and drink Aroma's delicious coffee and  City Wineworks' delicious white and have a DeRozier's donut while listening to Denny and Duane play. We got to talk to people. I bought cards from Sarah and talked to representatives of Anita's and Boho-Chic. We laughed a lot. 

It was, all in all, a good week. I'm sorry about the neighbor and his flag. I feel less safe in my community now and I no longer want to walk the stretch of the Nickel Plate Trail close to where he lives. I assume this is the reaction he was looking for, so, okay, he gets it from me. 

I'll miss the trees in Denver. I still miss the ones that were cut down on 1500 North when I was a kid. I never noticed if the road was actually widened, but I sure do still notice that big empty space. 

There were sad hours this week. Times I sat and stared into space and had to dig deep for happy. I was mad a few times. Hurt. Frustrated.

And it was still a good week. I hope you had one, too. Be blessed in the one coming up. And be nice to somebody. 

A Bit of A Party!

 We hope to see you there!

This Friday we're going to have a "Bit of a Party"

65 North Broadway

Peru, Indiana

Friday, October 15th

4-7 PM

We're going to have Wine from our Wineworks.

Art from our Gallery 15.

Coffee and Hot Chocolate from our Aroma Coffee

Some gifts from our Boho-Chic Hair Salon

Snippets of all the things at our Anita's

D O N U T S

Live music from Duane and Denny

And a book signing from Best Seller, Liz Flaherty, Debby Myers and her trilogy,

and your dusty donut guy and his two books.

4pm-7pm!

Stop in to say, Hi!