LONG BEACH ISLAND

It’s feeling summery outside on this pollen-laden Memorial Day weekend, and rather than the usual barbeque stuff, I’ve been working outdoors trimming hedges and sneezing my brains out. So I’m taking a break and writing (indoors), giving my nasal passages a much-needed break.

I checked my emails and found a very nice surprise from Dru Love of Dru’s Book Musings. She’s putting me on the schedule for another A Day in the Life of Colleen Caruso sometime in August. I really love doing Dru’s blog. She gets tons of followers and they always have wonderful comments (which I enjoy answering). If you’re an avid reader and follow the latest mysteries, this is the blog for you. Just click on the link and see for yourself.

Meanwhile, I’ve decided to give myself a birthday present! I made up my mind to completely finish a first draft of Recurring before the end of June. Yeah, I’m a Gemini, as if you couldn’t tell by the way I write, and I know it’s a strange present to give myself. Being a Gemini, I AM strange. People born under the sign usually are a bit odd – so giving myself a complete first draft as a gift isn’t as far-out as it seems. Back in February I was going to do “The Thirty Day Challenge” and complete a first draft in a month, but that didn’t work out with all my other writing obligations. I’m doing it now. I’m already fifty pages into Recurring and have several subsequent chapters outlined, kind of like cheating but in a good way, so maybe I’ll be able to pull it off.

As promised, above is great photo of Long Beach Island. Though LBI is a little far south to be considered part of Colleen Caruso’s territory, I love the romance of the place. Wouldn’t that be a terrific spot for Colleen and Ken to . . . oh, never mind! I won’t go there for now. But it really would, wouldn’t it?

On a more serious note, as tomorrow is Memorial Day, it’s fitting to remember those who gave their lives for their country. I found the above photo on tin in a box of my parents’ belongings and scanned it. This is my Uncle Jimmo (James) Lamon, who died in Italy during WWII. I believe only one of the soldiers made it out alive when his tank was hit. I understand the men inside the tank burned to death and they couldn’t distinguish one soldier from another, so they were all buried together. Though I never met my Uncle Jimmo (I’m far too young), he was my dad’s older brother and quite a good looking Irish devil in that Pierce Brosnan/Colin Farrell kind of way. My own father was in the South Pacific at the time, in the Navy – which always cracks me up because he used to get sea-sick in the row boats whenever we’d go crabbing down Seaside Heights. My dad was only fifteen or sixteen years old when he enlisted (he lied about his age, as many boys did back then), and because he was so tall (he topped out at 6’3”), I guess they thought he was over eighteen. Love to dad and the uncle I never met. Rest in peace guys.

Have a safe and happy Memorial Day weekend everyone.