Stephanie Wilson

New Release: Easy Steps to an Organized Life in 31 Days

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 11 Mar 2017 00:29:00 +0000

When our homes become cluttered, untidy and disorganized, life has a way of becoming difficult. Yet the thought of organizing that clutter from top to bottom can be equally stressful. Time has a way of eating up even the best of intentions.

There is a solution, however, even for the busiest among us. You can clear the clutter, separate the meaningful from the meaningless, and create a home environment that works for everyone.

And you can take easy steps to get there… in 31 days or less.

From storage ideas to simple cleaning tricks and time management, you’ll be well on the way toward the sanctuary you’ve dreamed of.

It’s simply one step in front of the other. Tackling one small project after another, until in 31 days, you will find yourself… simply organized. With a system and routine that will keep you organized for life.

Written for 31Daily.com, Easy Steps to an Organized Life in 31 Days or Less is available through Amazon.com in both print and e-book formats. It's a lifestyle change that's easy to make with the reward to reclaiming your home and your sanity.

E-Book

Print

Finding Joy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 01 Dec 2016 18:03:00 +0000

As I drove up the hill from an early morning school drop-off, followed by a "Starbucks-In-A-Red-Cup" run ... and a quick stop at the grocery store; I was reminded yet again about finding small joys.

The rain is pouring in Seattle today, the streets are wet; but in our neighborhood, while most trees are bare and ready for winter snow (hopefully), some are still dotted with a few golden-russet leaves, tenaciously clinging to their dark branches. Those streets and sidewalks are lined with golden brown leavings making perfect autumn rimmed lanes. It reminded me of a Thanksgiving postcard. And all the while, with the sounds of windshield wipers on a rainy window mixed with XM Radio's Holiday Traditions softly playing those beloved and quintessential Christmas tunes with their tight harmonies … I was once again reminded of finding joy.

I promised to highlight a few landmarks woven into the storyline of “Home for Christmas.” I’m excited to share soon the inspiration for the house. But today, I wanted to share a few pictures that reminded me of joy.

Artist Watercolor of Sanctuary on Christmas Eve: View Source

Seattle's University Presbyterian Church is the church mentioned in the book. It's located very near the University of Washington campus and is a church with a deep and rich heritage. I remember attending some Christmas services way back when I was a student at Seattle Pacific University, very near the U-District. This church was a church plant from Seattle’s First Presbyterian Church back in 1908 to serve the university community.

Today, the church continues to be vibrantly active in its community and serve the needs of people. I encourage you to check out their website … here.

Excerpt from Home for Christmas as it describes the beautiful UPC sanctuary:

“She let her eyes roam the beautiful sanctuary; the tall stained glass windows lining its length on both sides and depicting stories of Jesus’ life in gloriously warm hues, the glass hurricanes and candles at each base, lit for evening services and would cast a flickering glow, creating an almost tangible feeling of warmth, the pair of pointed arched paneled doors at either side of the platform. The chancel had an angled back and housed the towers of cascading pipes, leading upward to a central focus of a trio of stained glass windows representing the resurrection and sitting atop a stunning limestone carving of The Last Supper, a simple yet masterful piece of art … She let its beauty wash over her; the Christmas decorations – the advent wreath, the garland swags embellished with red velvet bows draped the chancel and balcony, candles lit on the altar and in every corner served only to accentuate her church’s beauty and the holiness of the season.”

And while I’m not a photographer, the above is a snapshot I took on my phone while visiting the church on a rainy, stormy weekday morning, much like today.

The day is marching on and I’ve got some baking planned … and a few Christmas presents to wrap … and yes, some sticky, syrupy plates leftover from a hurried breakfast, run-out-the-door-before-you’re-late-for-school kind of morning. And yes … while my fingers feel yucky … and the wet morning seems particularly cold and damp … I will remember the small joys of the morning … and be ever thankful for them.

Have a great and joyful day!

Home for Christmas

Available:

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Paperback

Read Chapter 1

The World of Same

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 08 Jun 2016 18:36:00 +0000

We live in a world of sames.

Same... styles, cars, homes. Same... thoughts, ideas, beliefs.

I'm grateful I didn't grow up in that world. A world of sames.

My mom wore aprons and my dad wore suits. My grandmas baked and my grandpas fished.

It's an intended oversimplification. Of course, my mom liked to fish with her dad and wear beautiful dresses. My dad -- well, he liked to eat the baked goods my grandmas made.

There are always variations of a stereotype. Because... we are not sames. No matter what anyone claims.

The idea of sames homogenizes and blends an individual, who is wonderfully and marvelously made.

I would argue that my world, the world not of sames, celebrated individuality, my world allowed far more diverse thought and expression than that of today.

I grew up in the 80s, married in the early 90s.

Girls were allowed to be girls and boys were allowed to be boys. Sames were saved for another day.

And there was no one looking over our shoulder determining if our dreams and hopes and aspirations were acceptable by the sames.

We didn't think much about the sames. We were free to dream. We were free to follow our natural instincts instead of re-training our minds, our words, and our beliefs to comply with the sames.

This is not an argument against standards. Instead, it's an observation about standards. Natural standards that have governed the lives of all humans since the beginning of time.

Natural standards that allow for feminity and masculinity.

The idea of sames began with "unisex." It has evolved.

The ideas of sames began with control. It has evolved.

The idea of sames began with power. It has evolved.

Sames celebrate the idea intolerance. While their language speaks individual expression, the reality is that of adherence, or else suffer public shaming.

I do not believe in this world of sames.

I look back with sadness on the beauty of my world that is no longer. The beauty of romance, the beauty of peace. The beauty of joy instead of the gray of domination, suppression, and compliance.

Will Willimon observes, “A person who is externally determined, who lacks freedom of choice, who has succumbed to any limitations upon self-expression is hardly a person.”

"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." --Psalm 139:13-16 ESV

Why, when we were so beautifully and wonderfully made, would we throw away the essence and the freedom of who we were created to be? Why would we then reject that unique beauty to adopt sameness? When we were once free... why would we choose a form of bondage?

Why would we become citizens in the world of sames?

Just a thought...

Words

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Feb 2016 07:32:00 +0000

Do you ever have days when a “word” seems to leap out at you from... everywhere?

Conversations, texts, commercials…

And finally, it gets your attention. That word. And sometimes, it's one you’re not particularly fond of?

Yep – that was my day.

The word?

Age.

Horrible, awful, depressing. Need I go on?

If you’re anywhere north of 40, you probably get my drift.

I had a sad conversation with a stranger today. Humbling, really, that she chose me to tell. She said she’d never done that before.

It was an all too common story of divorce, betrayal, loss, family. And kids who pay the price. And the other party, the one who never saw it coming. Twenty-seven years of marriage and a senior in high school.

Sad.

Depressing that it’s not the first time I’d heard that story. I’m sure you can relate.

But back to… age.

Awful, horrible things can happen with age. Lots of “goodbyes” happen with age. And I hate goodbyes. Simply hate them.

Other things happen too. Jaded, cynical… complacent?

I don’t like to be north of forty and I don’t like parts of my body to travel south.

But it happens. Right?

What do you do? Become maudlin, contemplative… dismissive? Forget about it all.

If you can!

But to perk up my creative spirit, I logged onto Pinterest. Something to distract myself from that ugly word.

Only, guess what?

I found it AGAIN!

After searching in vain for new cookie ideas to fill the stomach of my ever hungry teenage boy, I browsed through images of unbelievably exquisite living rooms. And that always perks me up. One image lead to another, and another search, and another idea…

I soon found myself mesmerized with the beauty of all things, well, old. Vintage. Aged.

That was the phrase, “Aged to perfection.”

And as image after image swiped across my screen, all beautiful, all “pinned,” I began to realize exactly how much I loved “old” things. Beautiful, exquisite, tantalizing old things.

New words began to fill my head. Words like “timeless.”

I like “timeless.” And after a while I began to like the word, “aged.”

I want to be “aged to perfection.” I want my years on this earth to count for something and although I’d like to look in the mirror and see some smoother parts, I wouldn’t trade my experiences for anything in this world.

And I wouldn’t trade the tears I’ve shed, the people I’ve embraced, the sad stories I’ve heard… and told, the hard times and the good. It all counts for something, in the end.

Here’s to all things perfected with time.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 01 Jan 2016 23:54:00 +0000

View on Amazon.com

Dreaming

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 14 Sep 2015 17:51:00 +0000

Do you dream?

I mean, of course, everyone dreams at one time or another. Good dreams, bad dreams, day dreams. I'm particularly fond of those. The night ones -- not so much.

Today is a new day, an end of summer, first of autumn kind of day.

What are you dreaming of today? You are dreaming, I hope. You are envisioning, hoping, planning... day dreaming, aren't you?

The beauty of life can be found in our hopes... our dreams.

Do you dream of possibilities or only dread obstacles?

Proverbs 29:18 declares, "Without a vision, the people will perish..." And Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick."

Today, open your eyes and fill your mind with the wonder of today and a hope for tomorrow. Surround yourself with beauty, even in the midst of ugliness, and your future will brighten. For there is beauty, even in ashes, if you're looking for it. Imagine possibilities, leave the obstacles to God.

It's a really a matter of ...faith. And what is faith? "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1).

Enjoy your day... inspire someone.

Labor Day and a Connection to our Past

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 07 Sep 2015 15:22:00 +0000

Today is Labor Day. In my neck of the woods, it doesn't actually feel like it though. Traditionally, it seems, we celebrate this day as the last hurrah of summer. The last of... fun before we settle down to the rigor of our everyday except-for-summer lives.

So, today isn't sunny, it isn't warm -- it's a typical fall kind of misty, chilly day in Seattle. Our traditional summer party in the backyard will wait for another year, although I'm still hoping for that last of the season grilled barbecue chicken, corn on the cob, potato salad, and apple... something. And for us, school has been in session for a week, which changes the landscape of the last summer celebration.

Isn't that how life is, though? Adapting while keeping alive the traditions of our past?

Let me take you back -- way back.

Held on a Tuesday, September 5, 1882, the first Labor Day in the United States was celebrated in New York City. Thousands celebrated, 10,000 workers marched from City Hall to Union Square and all celebrated with picnics, concerts and speeches. 133 years later, not much has changed. We still celebrate, host picnics and concerts.

On this Labor Day, 133 years later, I'm mindful of our collective past -- a legacy once birthed as a new idea now etched into the lives of most Americans -- celebrating Labor Days in similar fashions. Those kinds of legacies bind us together as a people and as a nation. That's one of the reasons traditions are vitally important; to families and to nations.

I hope you're celebrating today and remembering why.

Have a great start to your fall season!

The Tomato Quandary

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Apr 2015 02:29:00 +0000

This is one of those, "Did you know?" articles. To which many of you who read on may say, "Of course. Everyone knows that."

Except... I didn't. So just in case, here's my "Did you know?"

Background.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that great writers either hire amazing research staffs, or they innately love to research themselves.

Me? While I would love to become a great writer, that's a ways off yet. However, I do love to research... anything and everything. Believe me, Siri and I have become the best of friends.

"Siri, what is the origin of ___ word?" "Siri, when did this event happen..." and on and on it goes.

Back to the "Did you know" part after,,, almost.

I'm cooking for tables of one tonight. Plural intended. Yes, our household consists of more than one, but we're all filtering in at different times this evening. My job? Keep the food flowing, especially to the large teenage son who can't quite get himself filled up these days.

Spinach ravioli. That's dinner tonight with homemade Marinara Sauce. And finally I'm coming to my point. The Marinara.

Canned tomatoes... or fresh. I have both.

Quandary.

Fresh -- canned?

And then I remember that my son isn't overly fond of chunks of tomato and then I remember a snippet of conversation I overheard.

"Did you know that canned diced tomatoes are coated with a chemical so that they keep their shape and will never get soft?" the one asked the other.

Hmmm.

Off to the kitchen laptop I go.

It's true! Seconds later, question answered. Canned diced tomatoes are coated with calcium chloride.

Susan Brewer, Ph.D. University of Illinois, Department of Food Science and Human Nutrition says, "The calcium chloride helps whole and diced pieces stay firm and keep their shape and is also a nutrient."

Calcium chloride?

And what is that? I wasn't sure. More clicking on the keyboard.

Calcium chloride is an ionic compound of calcium and salt. It is solid at room temperature but highly soluble in water. It can be directly produced from limestone.

We all need calcium. So it's good... right?

Many say a resounding "yes."

That may be true. I'm not sure.

This is what I do know. Calcium chloride is used for the following:

Deicing roadways
Swimming pools and aquariums
Food firming additive
Flavor enhancer (pickling)
Treatment of hydrofluoric acid burns, magnesium intoxication, and other uses
Animal sterilization
Concrete mixes
Plastic additive

And there are more.

Hmmm.

Back to the quandary.

And the tomato.

I answered my initial question but raising a whole lot more, in my mind at least.

Just in case you're curious. I used fresh. And it was simply amazing. More from the knowledge than the skill. But I enjoyed my service for one and will enjoy serving it to the others who float through hungry tonight.

Aren't you glad you know that?

Have a great evening.

Happy Easter

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 03 Apr 2015 16:41:00 +0000

An early spring in the Pacific Northwest heralded sunny skies and beautiful blossoms in early March. I wondered if anything would be left for Easter. I was disappointed with the vision I crafted in my mind. Dull, rainy... only green. None of the double pink cherry blossoms I so dearly love.

Shameful, actually. Those dismal thoughts.

Today is Good Friday, an especially important event in the Christian calendar. A day of remembrance, of reflection, of mindfulness. A day to contemplate an overwhelming act of love, selflessness and suffering on our behalf. The word "love" can't even begin to describe it.

And then came Sunday... that first Easter. A day of fulfillment, a day of rejoicing... a day of victory. A day of conquering all that came before. A day where we have the promise of a forever future if we choose to accept it.

The Easter blossoms? Yes -- I was incredibly wrong. I'd forgotten about the tulips and the bluebells and the white flowering trees and the garnet colored azaleas and the rhododendrons just now forming their buds in my area. I'd been distracted by the "what wasn't" instead of looking forward to the "what was to come."

May this Easter remind us all of the incredible promise of a glorious future extended to us through a horrific and loving and willing sacrifice. May we accept the gift and may we look forward to an everlasting future through Jesus.

And yes, anticipate a glorious tomorrow!

Happy Easter everyone. May this day, especially, be filled with a overwhelming sense of joy!

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past." Isaiah 43:18 (NIV)

Happy Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 26 Nov 2014 23:39:00 +0000

My pumpkin pie is baking in the oven as we speak and while my house is still warm with the colors of autumn and leaves and pilgrims and ghords, the outside is being transformed into that most exciting time of the year. Tiny white lights will begin to twinkle at my doorstep before the day is finished.

But there is something so special and intimate about Thanksgiving that I hope, even in my excitement of the coming season, never to overlook this wonderful and pure remembrance.

May your day tomorrow be filled with gratitude for the blessings and challenges you've faced this year. Big and small, good and ... even hard. There are lessons to be learned, friends and family to cherish, memories to make, celebrations to commemorate. And through it all, may thanksgiving fill your heart and mind as you gather with those you love.

And may we also never forget those first settlers that came to a distant land because they believed in a better way of life, a place to worship God as they chose. Through hardship, disease and even death, they set in motion a set of ideals that Americans enjoy today, some 393 Thanksgivings since.

Autumn's Splendor ... at Last

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 23 Sep 2014 20:50:00 +0000

It's finally arrived. The very first day of autumn. Officially, tonight at precisely 10:29 p.m., EDT for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. It's a happy day when one doesn't feel a bit odd for hanging the fall leaves wreath, displaying the pumpkins and acorns and all things russet and brown and golden, for wearing sweaters and drinking hot steaming drinks. Well ... the weather has a bit of catching up to do for those of us in the Pacific Northwest. While the leaves are definitely turning ... those longed for crisp fall days are yet ahead. But the best news of all... it is coming! And that, my friends, is the beginning of all things wonderful!

Happy 1st Day of Autumn.

One of my favorite poems is oft quoted, but I couldn't help share it once again for those who like me, relish every falling leaf.

FREE: Updated Home for Christmas at Amazon on Saturday

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 20 Dec 2013 23:57:00 +0000

Christmas is just around the corner ... and we were blessed with our first dusting of Christmas snow overnight. It's been a delightful day spent last-minute shopping and, of course, baking. I couldn't let a snow pass without Russian Teacakes coming out of the oven ... or shortbread ... or Peanut Blossoms. That's on the agenda for the rest of the day.

But more importantly, I wanted to let you know that Amazon is offering the updated e-book version of my novel, Home for Christmas, free all day on Saturday, December 21.

I'm counting down the days until Christmas ... my oven is in non-stop cookie baking mode and my fingers are a little sore from cutting paper and wrapping bows, as I'm sure yours are too, but I wouldn't have it any other way! I love this time of the year and am trying to soak up every last moment of this beautiful season. Thank you for the Christmas cards, reading them is my indulgent break from the hub bub.

As we ring in 2014, I'll be working on the last chapters of my latest novel, Treasures of the Heart, a prequel to Whispers of the Heart. I'm looking forward to the new year ... but cherishing every last minute of this one.

Have a wonderful Christmas and may you find Joy this season and tremendous blessing in the New Year!

Merry Christmas!

Available:

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Paperback

Read Excerpt

Savannah's Giant Molasses Cookies

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 11 Dec 2013 01:55:00 +0000

Cookies are synonymous with the holiday season. The Pinterest boards are teeming with lots of yummy looking confections, inspiring us all to expand our horizons and try new things. I have tried a few new recipes this year, and yes, I did find them on a board. And ... they were yummy; a sugar shortbread kind of icebox cookie with pistachios, dried cranberries and even white chocolate folded into the mix. I can't wait to get the reviews once the big and little fingers of my family members have dug into my seasonal treats later this month.

But Christmas is also about the familiar ... and even the tried and true. In Home for Christmas, Savannah Wentworth has many fond memories of hours spent in the kitchen, baking Christmas cookies with her mom. She is determined to continue the tradition and is not only baking for Austin's colleagues and associates but for neighbors as well. Several times throughout the text, you will see particular references to molasses cookies. Yes, there is a reason. My family -- my boys, actually--love molasses cookies. In particular, they love giant molasses cookies.

I'm baking tonight -- a little behind on my list of requested and expected treats, but determined to get caught up soon! And while I'm duly inspired by the new, I'm sticking with tradition tonight and baking Savannah's Giant Molasses Cookies. I thought you might want to view this recipe ... perhaps even try them as well. They are robust with the flavors of the season and a favorite of all Savannah's friends; literal and fictional, of course.

Savannah's Giant Molasses Cookies

1 1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg, plus an egg yolk
1/2 cup full flavored molasses
4 1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon ground ginger
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon cloves
1/3 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (or more) of coarse sanding sugar

Directions

Cream butter and sugar. Beat in eggs and molasses. In a separate bowl combine the dry ingredients, including spices. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients.

Shape dough into 2-inch balls and roll in coarse sanding sugar.

Bake in a 350-degree oven for 13-15 minutes or until set. Allow to cool on the baking sheet for a couple of minutes before removing them to a rack to cool completely.

Home For Christmas

Available:

Kindle
Paperback

Read Chapter 1

The Inspiration Home

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 22:54:00 +0000

The sun is shining brilliantly in Seattle today … and it’s cold. Incredibly so in the morning. But oh so delightful. I splurged after school drop off and drove around our hills this morning – it was silvery white and I listened to the tunes that make Christmas so incredibly special – the oldies. Fog lay in the valleys, the rooftops, trees and hillsides were crusted in a 23-degree frosty glaze, and I was singing, “I’ll be home for Christmas,” at the very top of my lungs. Yes … I did get a few looks. Oh well – it’s Christmas! Almost.

Writing “Home for Christmas” has been one of my “joys." If you’ve read it … or any Christmas novel this year, you know what I mean. You love Christmas as much as I do. This season … this time of the year ... is special in so many ways. While anyone would admit to its challenges, there isn’t another grouping of days anywhere on our calendar where the world pauses, reflects, and gathers quite like they do at Christmas.

For me, the season begins with a frenzy of activity and expectations and to-do lists … and yes, lots and lots of dreams. But as the season progresses and we come right down to the days of Christmas, everything, for me, becomes peaceful and pure and good. What’s done is done and what isn’t will remain so. There will be other years to accomplish what wasn’t. It is that time of reflection, of gathering all who mean so much, that truly makes Christmas so incredibly special and worthwhile.

Nothing embodies Christmas quite like … home. And home is what started me on the path of writing, “Home for Christmas.” Unlike most landmarks mentioned in the book, which are real, the inspiration for Savannah Wentworth’s home, as specifically described in the text, comes from several sources. The setting, the views of the city, the attributes are taken from a hand-full of period homes of the era. But of course, as one would expect, there is one that was the catalyst for my Christmas imaginings.

Parker/Fersen Historic Home. Source.

This home, my inspiration, is an historic home located on Seattle’s Capitol Hill, a neighborhood atop a narrow ridge overlooking the city and more specifically in an area within Capitol Hill referred to as “Millionaire’s Row.”

The area has a rich history that I attempted to incorporate, very loosely, into the fabric of the storyline of, “Home for Christmas.” This area was birthed in 1872 when pioneers cleared a wagon road through the forest to a cemetery now named Lake View. It was logged in the 1880’s and in 1901, James Moore, Capitol Hill’s chief developer, gave the hill its name.

Millionaires’ Row was a premier street in Capitol Hill running along Seattle’s 14th Avenue from E. Prospect to about E. Mercer and consists of a grouping of grand scale, early 20th century residences the elite of Seattle built around the turn of the century. The Seattle Times describes this area, “THE FAMILY NAMES associated with palatial residences on Seattle's Millionaire's Row recall the days when lumber, banking, shipbuilding and retail were rapidly turning the city into an up-to-date metropolis.”

1917 Postcard of Millionaires' Row

Strangely, as affluent as the Row was, it merely served as the last leg of the wagon road leading to the
hilltop’s cemetery. In this early photograph of my inspiration house, the wagon ridges are still evident.

Many years ago, I was privileged to attend an engagement party in a specific home located on the corner of E. Prospect and 14th Ave. It’s a gorgeous, 30-room, 7,500 square foot Colonial Revival home my college roommate’s in-laws-to-be had just purchased. It’s called the Parker/Fersen home and has a story so intriguing; one would believe it legend or a fictional masterpiece. For me, though, it is the quintessential, picture-perfect, postcard kind of home to be a featured residence in any story about coming “home” for Christmas. While I’ve taken many fictional liberties and woven other residences of the area into its description, my inspiration was largely this home.

Click here for additional images of the Parker/Fersen home in the fall.

Here is a YouTube video I found featuring some of the homes on Millionaire’s Row on a rare snowy day in Seattle. Enjoy.

Wishing you a blessed Thanksgiving.

Home For Christmas

Available:

Kindle
Paperback

Read Chapter 1

Joy Comes ... In All Shapes and Sizes

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 07 Nov 2013 23:26:00 +0000

I braved the blustery late autumn storm we're having in the Pacific Northwest today for two reasons. First, I had to stock my pantry for Thanksgiving dishes I'm already planning ... and secondly, I needed a little Christmas cheer, and Woodinville's Molbak's Garden center was just the place. Bringing my three and two year-old niece and nephew, we browsed and shopped and listened and smelled ... Christmas.

As the days are getting shorter and the storms are coming more frequently, I'm reminded again of how much I love this season and the coming days ahead. It's a time to nestle in, a time to prepare, and a time to be grateful for what we've been given in this life. Sometimes what we've been given are big and glorious gifts ... but sometimes, they are small gifts, even insignificant to others, but immeasurable to us.

I know you're life is busy ... as is mine. How many times do we forget to pause, just for a moment, and savor or even acknowledge those small blessings as they fleetingly come our way? The elderly man who waits to hold the door, the barista who smiles into your eyes while handing you a steaming cup of coffee, the parking spot that opens up at the very last minute when you're late for an appointment, the busy mom toting two toddlers who runs after your shopping cart that gets loose in the parking lot ... the smile of a stranger. When I stop to think of the small blessings and moments of Joy life has brought my way, even in the last few weeks, I can say it has been a season of immeasurable blessing for me. Not in the size, or frequency ... or even significance; but in those rare moments when I've stopped that running list in my mind and savored the little things in life that when added together, are making a beautiful whole.

As we open our homes during this coming season and share the bounty of what we've been given, I'm reminded again of how blessed I am with amazing family and dear friends. In "Home for Christmas," Savannah is reminded that it takes more than "things" to make a home. It takes people to fill empty spaces with laughter and memories ... and especially Joy. It is those people that make our fondness for home so incredibly alluring.

May we continue to reflect and recognize the small Joys of our lives and count them all as blessings.

Merry Christmas, a little early.

Stephanie

Home for Christmas

Now available in paperback

Available:

"Home for Christmas" Free Giveaway

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 04 Nov 2013 00:05:00 +0000

For those of you who are Goodreads subscribers, 5 copies of the paperback edition of "Home for Christmas" will be given away this month. The promotion went up early this morning and there has already been a good response. If you're interested, follow the links below.

Hope you've had a great weekend! Ours has been stormy and blustery -- with local trees down and power outages. Brilliantly colored golden leaves are lining our sidewalks and roads and even a tenacious few are still clinging to baring branches. It's beautiful.

But storm or no storm ... the season is quickly approaching and there were things to do this weekend. After exchanging all of our jack-o-lanterns for pilgrims and turkeys, we visited a Holiday Bazaar, attended a basketball tournament, went to church, I'm currently baking chocolate chip cookies for the week ... and my men are off to our storage unit to retrieve our Christmas village pieces. I think setting it up won't be far behind. They are still telling me no on any trees. Hope you're loving this time of the year as much as I am!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Home for Christmas

by Stephanie Wilson

Giveaway ends December 02, 2013.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

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Goodreads Free Giveaway
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It All Begins ...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 30 Oct 2013 21:02:00 +0000

"The moon was full, as it should be on this night; the sky … clear; as it almost never was. Crisp, almost frigid dry air whistled around the door as she closed it to the very last trick-or-treater, an oversized vampire who had cleaned out the bottom of her candy basket."

Excerpt from, "Home for Christmas."

It's almost here ... the holidays, that is. As far back as I can remember, I've always believed that the Holidays began the moment we closed the door to the last trick-or-treater. It was always a passage of sorts for me. The Christmas music could then be played overtly instead of covertly. And no one much cared if little vestiges of Christmas were placed here and there. When I grew up and had my very own home, well, there was no stopping. Yes, very often my Christmas village makes its debut long before the goblins come knocking at my door.

And speaking of those goblins ... I'm busy in my kitchen this week. Savannah, one of the main characters in my latest book, will pass out 2,100 pieces of candy Halloween night. I won't pass out that many ... but yes, I did count. I have 600 pieces, thanks to the oversize bags at Costco. Come late Halloween night, the late-night teenager vampires may just get more candy than even they would dream of. Smile.

My special treats for my toddler niece and nephew and neighbors kids have been made and are ready for bows tomorrow. And the apples will be candied sometime in the afternoon. My mom started a Halloween tradition that I think all of us children mimic. Halloween is always chili night, corn muffins and because I have one of those teenagers who doesn't too often get hotdogs ... we've added "Mummy Dogs" to the mix. Oh ... and of course, the box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts ... in the Halloween box. As if we weren't already getting enough sugar as it is. Sigh.

And so it begins ... the Holidays officially begins for me on Friday. Happy, happy smile.

Happy Halloween everyone.

Home for Christmas

Now available in paperback

Available:

Seattle Landmarks Featured in Home for Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 24 Oct 2013 19:02:00 +0000

I've already had some email from readers of my new book, "Home for Christmas," which was released just a couple of days ago! Thank you for the kind remarks and encouragements! It is very thrilling to hear from you.

One question I've been asked several times from readers not in the Pacific Northwest is whether some of the landmarks mentioned throughout the book are real.

Over the next few weeks, I thought it would be interesting, to those of you reading the book, to discover which landmarks are real and which are a product of this author's imagination.

Early in the story, Seattle's Great Wheel makes an appearance. It is a new but iconic landmark on the Seattle skyline.

The Seattle Great Wheel is a giant Ferris wheel located on Pier 57 on Elliot Bay and overlooking Puget Sound. On opening day, June 29, 2012, it was the tallest observation Ferris wheel on the west coast with 42 fully enclosed gondolas, each seating up to eight people. And yes, mentioned in the book is a special gondola that Savannah and Austin ride in, and it really does exist. It is called the VIP Gondola and features four leather bucket seats and a glass floor. Can you just imagine how spectacular that ride would be? Or scary ... to some of us not fond of heights. Smile.

While the Wheel is an incredible vision in the daytime, it becomes pure magic once the sun sets over that Western horizon and the lights of Seattle begin to twinkle. The light show is a spectacular vision you'll not want to miss.

Christmas, to me, is about hope and promise. It is about dreams. The story behind the Wheel is a story of dreams ... and a lesson in tenacity and vision and determination. For 30 years, Seattle businessman Hal Griffith had worked to build his dream of having a second Seattle landmark. His dream finally came to fruition when he realized he could build it on a pier he and his family had owned for decades. Lesson? Never, ever give up on your dreams.

For more information on Seattle's Great Wheel, click here.

Thank you to all you who are reading my latest book, "Home for Christmas."

Merry Christmas ... a little early.

Image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/leerentz/8662208688/

New Title Released: Home for Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 20 Oct 2013 22:11:00 +0000

Just in time for Christmas, my new book, "Home for Christmas" has just been released in e-Book format, with the print version coming next week.

It was such a joy to write a Christmas novel. It's my absolute favorite time of the year.

My son and I have a running dialogue, "What's your favorite time of the year?" For me, it's always a toss up between fall and Christmas. We usually lump them all together and say that as of September 1st, we can beginning celebrating the "holidays" clear through January. And right now ... I'm in full "holiday" mode. My vehicle, my home, my iPod ... and yes, my phone are all programmed with my favorites Christmas tunes. My Pinterest account has no less than 4 boards specifically designated for Christmas, yet all the other boards have Christmassy things in them too. Smile. It's a wonderful time of the year.

Home for Christmas e-book is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and others. If you want to read more about the title, or read an excerpt from Chapter One, visit my website.

Merry Christmas ... a little early this year.

Read Excerpt.
Amazon Kindle
Barnes & Noble Nook

FREE: Whispers of the Heart at Amazon

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 19 Oct 2013 03:11:00 +0000

For those of you who have a Kindle and have not read, Whispers of the Heart, I wanted to let you know that Amazon is offering this title for free until Tuesday, October 22nd. It's a heart warming story with a setting that will take you through autumn and into Christmas at Priest Lake, Idaho. It is perfect for fall reading on these chilly nights that I'm so loving right now.

Let me know how you like it!

Click here for purchasing options:

Discover this stunning romantic drama of youthful passion, family loyalty and the miracle of a second chance with Erika and T.J. and their chance meeting at Priest Lake, Idaho.

A public humiliation sends Los Angeles textile heiress Erika Crawford on a defining journey to Priest Lake, Idaho where through a changed identity; she discovers what could be a love everlasting. In the majestic mountains and pristine waters of a village known as Kootenai Bay, Erika, now Marie Bancroft, finds more than she bargained for in T.J. Morgan, corporate magnet and notorious playboy, heir to one of the world’s largest fortunes. T.J. meets Erika at his Priest Lake ancestral home, Bear Creek Lodge. T.J. is drawn to Erika in spite of her obvious deceptions. She could be the woman of his dreams. What he loves most is her honesty and candor. Will their love survive once the truth is revealed?

Corn Husk Dolls

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 15 Nov 2012 17:57:00 +0000

It's one of those rare fall days in Seattle ... the sun is actually shining, brilliantly, I might add. I'm doing the final edit on my new holiday novel, also set in Seattle and, of course, the sun is also shining in it.

But my mind has strayed this morning. I'm thinking about corn husk dolls, most likely because they make an appearance in the novel during a Thanksgiving Dinner. This morning, I'm heading out to gather my very simple supplies because I'm determined to have these harbingers of yesterday festoon my Thanksgiving table this year.

Do you know the story of corn husk dolls?

Corn husk dolls are one of the oldest dolls known to the Americas, most likely originating from the Iroquois and their Legend of the Faceless Doll. They were subsequently adapted by European settlers and have enjoyed a rich history in our land. The tie between its Native American and European American roots make the doll so fitting for the Thanksgiving table.

The Legend of the Faceless Doll:

The story tells us that the Iroquois people have what they call the three sisters, the “sustainers of life”. These sisters are called corn, beans, and squash. The corn Spirit was so thrilled at being one of the sustainers of life that she asked the Creator what more she could do for her people. The Creator said that a beautiful doll could be formed from the husks. The Creator set to work to form the doll. When finished he gave the doll a beautiful face, and sent it to the children of the Iroquois people to play with, and to make them happy.

The doll went from village to village playing with the children and doing whatever she could for the children. Everywhere she went everyone would tell her how beautiful she was, so after a while she became vain. The Creator spoke to her and explained that this was not the right kind of behavior, and she agreed not to be this way anymore. The Creator told her that if she continued with this behavior he would punish her, but he would not tell her how he would do it. She agreed not to act that way again, and things went on as before.

One afternoon she was walking by a creek and she glanced into the water. As she admired herself, she couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was, because indeed she was beautiful. At this time the Creator sent a giant screech owl out of the sky and it snatched her reflection from the water. When she looked again, she had no reflection. This was the punishment the Creator put upon her.

When an Iroquois Mother makes a doll for her child, she tells them this legend which is to remind the child that it is wrong to think they are better then any one else, and they must know that the Creator has given a special gift to everyone.

Do you have any memories of corn husk dolls?

While I've never had one of these handmade treasures, there is a family story about them. My Great Grandmother, Julia Becker Schell, a German from Russia American immigrant is said to have made these dolls every Christmas. She would sequester herself in the barn for hours on end, it is said, making these and other gifts to the delight of her children.

It is in that spirit of giving, and in keeping with our American heritage, that I intend to follow in my great grandmother's hand-prints, and make my own this year. If you're interested in learning how to make them, I'll post instructions on the Good Living website.

Enjoy the sun today ... even if it is above the clouds. The holidays are in the air!

Halloween

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 31 Oct 2012 21:18:00 +0000

It's Halloween today and I'm busy in my kitchen with all kinds of festive projects. This is the first year my parents won't be here and we will miss them. Next year ... as they say.

Halloween has always been a fun holiday in our house. While we have never gone into the scary and wicked, we do love our harvest celebrations; hay bales, pumpkins, cornstalks, gourds, yes ... even black cats in honor of the family cat simply named, "Black."

I'm writing a new holiday novel, as yet untitled, that I hope to be finished with next week. The story begins Halloween night. That's how much I love the festive atmosphere of this night; the glowing jack-o-lanterns, the neighbors visiting, the darling little munchkins who visit our door, year after year; the princesses and knights, the firemen and Darth Vaders ... and even the big kids with their crackling low voices and scary, scary costumes.

It's a special night because for me, it is the beginning of the most wonderful time of year. It's a benchmark, a beginning, an, "It's okay to play Christmas music after Halloween" time.

So enjoy this night as your doorbell rings hundreds of times. Make it special and remember ... Christmas is just around the corner.

Better go and tend to my chili, make our mummy dogs and check to make sure the frosting is set on our pumpkin cookies and the Carmel as hardened on our apples. Have fun and be safe tonight.

Recipe Cards

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 13 Oct 2012 00:46:00 +0000

My Grandma Marie passed away in 1982. But I had a visit with her today. Together we did what we used to do together. We baked.

As I write, I have a Raw Apple Cake baking away in the oven. Autumn scents of apples, cinnamon and mace, bound together with a little sugar and a little flour, is making an aroma that is simply divine.

Here in Seattle, we ended an 82-day dry record, it's Friday, and my husband is ending a long week spent on business in Canada. He will be so delighted when he walks into our kitchen. And I'm expecting my son to bound down the stairs any minute demanding food, proclaiming himself famished. Smile. (Yep ... just happened).

Familiar. Comfort. Warm. Rich.

That is autumn to me.

When is the last time you cooked or baked something according to a handwritten recipe? Okay ... here's another. When is the last time you actually wrote out a recipe? If you're like me, it's probably been awhile. Magazines, cookbooks ... Pinterest ... truthfully, it is so much more convenient.

Online; I shop, send recipes and shopping lists to my phone, save family favorites virtually and rarely print or save electronically. It's our fast-paced world.

But today ... today I remembered why printed recipe cards can be so meaningful. What if my grandmother had access to all that we have today? Would she have taken time to write recipe cards? I don't know. But if she hadn't, I wouldn't have had my visit with her today.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I read her words, lovingly followed along a very narrative kind of recipe. I could "hear" her speaking. And I had a visit with a grandmother that understood me more than most people. We shared so many similar traits. Shyness, in particular. And because of that recipe card, we had a connection, thirty years later.

You know, most of us will never really know the impact our life has on others. The neighbor, the friend, the child ... the acquaintance who saw something of themselves in us. If we don't leave something tangible for those coming up behind us ... way off in the distant future (smile), all that is left is memory. And as we know, that can be fleeting.

Take time to leave something tangible, a hard copy reminder of your life. Whether it be journals, or memoirs ... or even a recipe card.

My son and even my husband never had the pleasure of meeting my Grandmother Marie. But tonight ... tonight through her recipe, they will see a glimpse of her. They will experience something that was so important to her. And in a small way, they will have a connection to her as well.

All because of a little recipe card.

Checking the "Box"

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 16:33:00 +0000

It's October now and we're easing into this fall schedule I love so much. Leaves are turning, routines are becoming just that ... routine. The Holidays are approaching ... and I'm doing something I've developed quite an aptitude for ... making lists.

I didn't use to make lists. You know, way back when ... certainly before this 40's decade. Well, to be honest, I guess I did make lists, I just didn't write them down. They were all neatly organized in my head, instant recall. Now ... my excuse is our busy schedule, and we'll just keep it at that. Smile.

Grocery Lists, To Do Lists, Honey Do Lists, Appointment Lists, Weekly Goals List, Gift Lists, Chore Lists ... Bucket Lists. Truly, there is a list for everyone. For me ... I have lists of lists. No, that's not exactly right. I have notebooks for my lists.

But, I enjoy it. I love always having something to look forward to. I never have to get, say, bored. There is always something more on "the list" to do before I could even contemplate boredom. My creative mind is always whirling with ideas whether they be decorating for the holidays, novel ideas, storyline edits, recipe lists, knitting ideas or even travel ideas. I simply have to write them down.

Making lists is a "good" thing. Right? Of course.

I recently had a conversation with my dad where I bristled a little. After a recent visit ... I think he noticed all my notebooks of lists (especially the Christmas Baking List which consists of 32 variety of cookies) he did what all good fathers do, he had a "conversation" with me.

Remember those? Except I like to be on the giving end instead of the receiving end.

It went something like this: "If the summation of your life to is check something off a list, you aren't really living." And ... "When your old and your children have grown, they will never remember what you checked off your list, they will never remember how organized your home was or, say, how many variety of cookies you baked for Christmas one year; they will remember the things you did together, the memories you shared, the experiences you had."

Balance. Reality check. (Parent's are good for those -- even in your forties).

I have worked hard on my lists. They're all about accomplishing something. Where I had gone astray ... was the end result. I found myself distracted by the "process" instead of the goal. (I think someone recently wrote a book about that). And the goal has always been, for me, to give my family the best of what I have to give. Period. The process needs to support the goal, not the other way around.

Thanks, dad. I think I have it now.

And ... I can move on with my day. I've blogged ... "check"!

Dedication: To my fellow listmakers.

Parties and Summer ... and Remembering

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 25 May 2012 16:51:00 +0000

It's Friday of Memorial Day weekend. I always look forward to this holiday. It is the beginning, as some say, of the "unofficial" beginning of summer. It's that. But truly, it is so much more.

As we speak, I'm writing out a menu that will serve about 4 families, lots of teenagers; I'm calendaring activities from croquet on the lawn to archery to baseball; baking brownies that will sit on our table with tiny American flags ... and trying to pack all at the same time.

Memorial Day is certainly about fun and about family ... and even about summer, if the weather cooperates.

But in all the fun and celebrating, I am always mindful of what Memorial Day is really all about.

Did you know that Memorial Day was originally called, "Decoration Day"? I love that ... Decorating. It speaks of remembrance and honor. It is fitting and it is worthy.

I wrote a blog last year called, "Poppies of Memorial Day," where I posted on the history of the poppy. This year I had planned to write about peonies ... because to me, peonies always represent Memorial Day. Most of our family graves are in Central Washington where the peonies are in abundant bloom.

Memorial Day history: (see source)

"Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State."

I am a genealogy lover. It is one of my most beloved hobbies. I am now tracking almost 15,000 ancestors. It's my way, I guess, of keeping their memory and their life and their significance ... alive. They matter, to someone at least.

That being said, I came across a disturbing article from CBS 60 Minutes recently that reported an egregious trend, which began in the outskirts of Chicago, where headstones were destroyed and removed, bodies dug up and put in mass graves so that the existing plots could be resold at staggering profits. And Chicago is not alone. Cemeteries in Los Angeles have told their workers to pack coffins in so tight that they crumble and break, all in order to make greater profits.

The disturbing news is that, at least in the case of Chicago, there are no records. Where are the families, the friends, the offspring or descendants? Is there no one left who can visit their graves, who will come, even on a holiday weekend, and "decorate" their graves on Memorial Day? Does no one remember, or perhaps, care any longer?

So, as we have our fun and our celebrations and our "previews" of summer this weekend, let us also not forget the true meaning behind Memorial Day. Visit a family member's grave, if you can. If there are no grave sites near you, visit a cemetery and walk through the plots, look at the flags and the beautiful flowers ... and remember the people buried there. They once had lives and loves and families. They are people who should be remembered.

Have fun this weekend ... and be mindful of who you are, where you came from, and to whom you belong.

To find family grave sites of ancestors ... here is one of my favorite sources: findagrave.com.