PASSAGES: Travel the USA and more!

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“It’s Lei,” I said, and that was the end of our ‘nothing’ day, because you don’t let a call from Lei Texeira go to voicemail.

An impression of my three muses It’s booklaunchweek for Talk Story, #7 in the Paradise Crime Cozy Mysteries...and readers are loving it, especially how Lei and Sophie fit neatly into Kat’s investigation. As I scratch my head about how neatly all these books fit together, you’d think I PLANNED to create a whole world of interlocking characters and related genres, all set in the Hawaiian islands we love. Nope.

The four of us, me and Keone, Elle and Pali, met at the Thai place in Hana—a little hole-in-the-wall with six tables, a chalkboard menu, and no cell signal.

Aloha faithful readers! Brief update announcement: We are getting toward launch day for this TALK STORY book, so I’m going to add on Friday chapter postings to speed things along. I hope that’s OK with you! And just so you know, I’m already planning #8 in this series. CHICKEN SKIN! You can check out the preorder and description on my website, HERE.

The wood has gone silvery in a year. Mike built large cedar planters, raw and square, last August, on the sidewalk outside our daughter’s house in San Francisco—a city where tiny yardlets intrude on the sidewalk but porches or stoops are few. A year of fog and sun have weathered them soft and gray. They’re packed with blooms now. And along the front, in the confident colors of a child, our grandgirls have painted rainbows and draped twinkle lights.

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After settling in to our new campsite at Indian Creek and a quiet evening, we planned for the next day out to be exploring a far-flung corner of Yellowstone, the Lamar Valley. We were on the road by 6 AM, and watched the sun rise over the vast valley in primordial splendor as the plains below us emerged gently into view. As we topped the rise to begin our descent into the valley, the powdered gold air of dawn filled with the eerie song of wolves.

(We have a wild yard…and the turkeys appreciate it. Here’s how a one eats seeds!) I wanted chickens when we moved into our Oregon house. I imagined a handful of hens with names. I pictured myself scattering grain and enjoying soft clucking at my feet as I collected warm eggs. But after lots of discussions with my husband, I had to admit that I travel too much to fulfill the kind of care and commitment domestic chickens need.

The Changs have their moment...and so does Pua