I planted a kitchen herb garden this year and as of right now, all the plants are still alive. That’s because I bought them that way and haven’t had a chance to kill them yet. But it’s only a matter of thyme. Ahem. Sorry, but I had to work at least one pun in. It was mint to be. Okay, I’m stopping now. Really.

This looks like a little, no-big deal thing, doesn’t it? I spent all Saturday on this project. First, there were ugly bushes beneath the window, so I dug them out. Then I smoothed the dirt and put down landscaping fabric to keep out weeds. (Weeds, I can grow) I filled those giant pots and moved them into place. No, that’s not exactly how it went. What really happened is that I wanted a layer of rocks in the bottom for drainage. I’d been saving broken pottery for this. I wrapped pieces in a towel and banged on it with the shovel. Those plates and cups that broke so easily when I dropped them on the kitchen floor? Not giving up without a fight. I walloped the towel and when I checked, there were maybe a few more cracks, not the chunks I was looking for. There was a lot more walloping–very therapeutic–until I succeeded. Then I dragged the super-sized bag of potting soil from the patio where it had been ever since I got the idea for an herb garden. The thing is, I’ve been thinking about an herb garden for a while. Certainly since before the last rain. The bag wasn’t water-tight, so it was more like potting mud. Even so, there wasn’t enough of it. I needed dirt. Where better to get dirt than from my hubby’s raised vegetable garden?

Okay, there are better places, and the garden isn’t exactly raised any longer because I needed a lot of dirt. I mixed my potting mud with it and filled the giant pots. Giant pots filled with dirt are heavy, too heavy for me to move I now know. So I emptied the pots, moved them, and refilled them, making a mess in the process. I spread the rocks. (Bags of rocks are also heavy. I know, surprised me, too.) But I soaked the plants in their little biodegradable containers, stuck them in the stolen dirt, (“Heather? It looks like some animals got into our back yard.”) and they are still alive!

Except something is eating my mint.

So who’s got the gardening bug this year? What’re you growing?

It’s rodeo time in Houston and that means chili cookoffs. Whenever two or more cooks are gathered around a bubbling pot of meat and spices, someone is bound to ask whether or not to add beans. In Texas, the answer is, “No.” Usually expressed more colorfully, but still no. In fact, most chili cookoffs follow the official rules of the International Chili Society which strictly forbids the addition of beans or pasta. Some rules spell out more: “No fillers – No beans, macaroni, rice, hominy, or other similar items will be permitted.” When I was looking for pictures of chili, I had a hard time finding one without beans. Although I personally prefer chili without beans, I’m not going to refuse to eat any with beans in it. Recently, I made an insanely complex chili recipe because I happened to have all the ingredients on hand. It tasted fabulous and, yes, had black beans in it.

So how do you like your chili? Beans or no beans?

Last weekend, my family went to a Burns Supper. Each year, Scots, those who wish they were Scots, and anybody who just wants an excuse for a party, gather around January 25th to celebrate the life of the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns. Even if you know nothing else about the man, you’ll recognize his best-known work, Auld Lang Syne. Both my husband and I have Scottish ancestry, and so for many years our sons had both sets of grandparents and my sister at the table. They even wanted their own kilts. As one said, “I love that my heritage’s native dress includes a weapon.” That would be the sgian dubh, (skeen doo) the dagger thingie they wear in their sock. The whole issue of what to wear under the kilt was solved when one son declared he was going, and I quote, to “free ball it” and I said, “Sure.” Because a kilt is eight yards of unlined wool and our climate is semi-tropical. I’m not sure he lasted sixty seconds before accepting the long boxer briefs I’d bought him. That’s a picture of me and my boys in the MacAllister tartan.
The format for a Burns Supper starts with the Selkirk Grace: Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, Sae let the Lord be thankit. After that, the haggis is piped in. A procession of a bagpiper, guard, the man who will deliver the “Address to a Haggis”, the haggis on a platter, a man carrying scotch whiskey in tiny little glasses (holding a “wee dram”) and another guard solemnly process to a table where the haggis is displayed. With great fanfare, the address is delivered, the haggis is stabbed, sampled, and toasted, and then presented to the chieftain who tastes it and pronounces it “Fit to eat.”

Haggis has a bum rap. It’s really good. Basically, it’s meat (I’m being purposefully vague) and oatmeal and spices. If you eat sausage, you shouldn’t have a problem with haggis. For years, it was our family’s test. When the boys and my sister brought dates to the Burns Supper–would they eat the haggis? And, more important, did they like it? All the keepers did.

After dinner, a speaker delivers “The Immortal Memory”, a speech about the life of Robert Burns, toasts to the lads and lassies, someone performs “My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose” and then comes piping and Scottish Country Dancing and drinking Scotch. This is the only time of year I drink Scotch. I can see why people like it, but it’s not for me.

In Houston, we’re lucky to have the St. Thomas Episcopal bagpipers, who have competed and won world piping championships in Scotland. Texas bagpipers. World champs. In Scotland.

Burns was quite the ladies’ man, probably fitting the classic bad boy persona. I’m not sure he’d make a good Blaze hero, what with all the kids with different mothers, but he obviously appealed to women. You can read about him here.

So. Haggis. Have you eaten it? Would you eat it?

On New Year’s Day, I watched my alma mater, Texas Christian University, win the Rose Bowl. I can hardly believe it happened, even though I still have a red mark on my cheek from the game day tattoo. TCU is a small, private, church-affiliated liberal arts school. About 6,000 attended when I was there. Now there are about 8,000, but still. Music and ballet versus a behemoth like Wisconsin, with its 42,000 students? Imagine the video you shot of your child’s elementary school Christmas pageant winning an Academy Award and you can get an idea of the improbability of TCU playing in the Rose Bowl, let alone winning it.
They’ve finished the year with a perfect 13-0 record. There was no magic involved, only a lot of determination and hard work.

Determination and hard work are no fun, but what I’ve learned from watching TCU during the past few years can be applied to more than just football.

1. First you need a goal. Then you need to write it down. Then commit to it.
A pyramid of steps supporting the top goal of a national championship hangs in the TCU locker room. The bottom level includes attitude, extra effort, mental toughness, chemistry and accountability. They’ve taken a huge goal and they’ve broken it down into achievable steps and they look at those steps every day.

2. You actually have to work toward achieving the steps leading toward your goal.
The football team holds regular practices. Have you scheduled a regular time when you work toward your goal?

3. Be prepared to give something up to achieve your goal.
I’m sure there were times when the team would have rather slept in or watched TV or partied with friends instead of working out. But they knew if they weren’t physically prepared, they couldn’t win games.

4. You have to live with yourself.
There’s a saying that you should be careful how you treat people on the way up because they’re the ones you’ll meet on the way down. I’ve liked how their coach refuses to beat up weaker teams for the sake of running up the score. Decisive victories, yes. Obscene blowouts, no.

5. Stick to your game plan. Be consistent.
There are going to be ups and downs, but if you stick with what’s been working for you, you’ll achieve your goals. Sometimes in bowl games, teams forget the methods that got them there and try for flashy plays that don’t work and then they panic. And fail.

6. On the other hand, you need to adjust your steps if you realize they won’t help you achieve your goal.
To play for the national championship, realistically, a school must belong to a conference that’s part of something called the BCS (Bowl Championship Series). TCU is not and after winning all the regular season games for the last two years, it was obvious that they wouldn’t be able to reach their goal of a national championship unless they joined a BCS conference. So that’s what they did.

7. How you handle victory is as important as how you handle defeat.

8. Don’t lose sight of what’s important.
Sometimes it will be your goal and working toward it, and sometimes something else will take precedence. And that’s okay.

Anyone else setting goals this year?

Twenty years ago this month, my first book, DECK THE HALLS, was published. It’s a story about three sisters who run a Christmas decorating service and came out in the Harlequin Romance imprint under my pseudonym, Heather Allison. How appropriate that this month, A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS, also a Christmas romance, is out. Different line, different name, but still a Christmas romance. There have been five Christmas romances in between these two. I like Christmas romances even though I’m usually writing them when it isn’t Christmas.

Christmas is always a busy, stressful time of year, filled with expectations and calories and shopping and family. Great fodder for book ideas. I remember the moment I got the idea for DECK THE HALLS. I’d just returned from a handbell choir performance, got the kids in bed and was about to hit the shower when I remembered that I had to bake cookies for somebody’s pre-school class the next day. And they had to be homemade using the recipe the school sent home. I thought, “I wish I could hire someone to do Christmas for me.” And got the idea for the book. The SANTA SLEUTH was inspired by a newspaper article about a little girl’s search for the best mall Santa. I was involved in a Christmas program when I thought of the plot for THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE CUDDLY. Families and their expectations prompted both MR. DECEMBER, and CHRISTMAS MALE. LONE STAR SANTA was inspired by a cocktail napkin that said, “Donner and the Vixen.” That was my original title, but I didn’t get to keep it. However, LONE STAR SANTAS was the original title for CHRISTMAS MALE, so it all worked out. The carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas” gave me the idea for A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS because the giver gives his true love such an extravagant set of gifts. What’s more extravagant that a gift of twelve men?

One of the similarities in the books is the Christmas tree. All the trees are decorated with a mish mash of ornaments collected over the years and multi-colored lights, because that’s what I like.

To celebrate, I’ll give away books to 7 people who tell me if they prefer designer trees, where the ornaments have a theme and everything is color coordinated, or what I’m calling a jumble tree, with a mix of homemade, gift, and souvenir ornaments. Winners can choose my new Blaze or any of my backlist, as long as you understand that the older the book, the deeper I have to dig!

And the 7 winners are Patsy Roberts, EllenToo, CrystalGB, Chey, Cathy W, Robin Coll, and Laurie G! Please email me at Heather (at) HeatherMacAllister.com with your contact info. You can pick A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS or any of my backlist, which is on my website. And then I shall brave the post office. What was I thinking? :-O

Last Monday, it was 91° and six days later, there’s frost on the roof. I think we’ve finally seen the last of summer and that means it’s baking season! Let’s talk pie. My favorite is rhubarb, not in season and hardly seen in the south, but after that, I love pecan and Texas has great pecans. I also like mixed-berry pies, but again, not in season. Apple is good, especially mixed with cranberry. Pumpkin, I can take or leave. My family is adamant that the recipe on the back of the Libby’s can must be followed exactly, while I like to jazz up the basic recipe. I also like mincemeat and I make my own. My parents, my mother-in-law, and I love it. Everyone else will leave the room rather than watch us eat it. The kids demand a pumpkin fluff pie that’s made with pumpkin, pudding, and Cool Whip.

How about you? US Thanksgiving is coming up and the Canadians already had theirs, so what pie is going to be, or already was, on your Thanksgiving table? I’ll give away a copy of my December Blaze, A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS, to three commenters who talk pie today.
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And the random number generator has picked Linda Henderson, Cim Hardt, and Colleen as the winners of A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS!
E-mail me your address at Heather(at)HeatherMacAllister.com Thanks for talking pie!
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For years I’ve been loyal to my faithful cell phone, just the way I’m loyal to Windows XP—even Windows 98, which is on my writing computer. All my books are written using WordStar. For DOS. But last month, the ear piece broke on my cell phone and I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, which is kind of the point of a phone. I say “kind of” because I now own the new Samsung Epic 4G and as far as I can tell, making phone calls is barely the point. It can do anything. Seriously—I bet if I held it next to a mug of water, it would brew tea for me. There’s probably an app for that. Did you catch that? I said “app” like all the cool people, only now I know what it means. Apps (applications) are little programs that do things like calculate tips, show me traffic, where I’ve parked, turn itself into a flashlight, keep track of my grocery list, put my face on the Mona Lisa (not really—I put it on Mount Rushmore), identify all the stars and planets, and, this is seriously scary, it knows where I am with such accuracy, it knew when I walked from the back yard to the street. There’s even a Kindle app. I could download War and Peace and read it on my phone if I wanted to. You get apps in the Android Market. See, this is an Android phone, with a cute little green man who is really Google in disguise, and not an Apple iPhone.

And get this, there is something called Swype, which means I can smear my finger over the keyboard on the screen and it magically knows what I want to say! Neither of my technically savvy sons knew about that and they have iPhones. Anytime you can impress your kids, it’s golden.

Something else they didn’t know about were these little code boxes. You may have noticed them in magazines and advertisements. The phone reads them and shows me short bonus videos or goes to websites. By the way, I made these particular codes. If your phone can read these, it will take you to secret places. Okay, just various pages on my website and Amazon, but still, how cool is that?

Almost as cool as the camera. There’s one on the front AND the back so I can make video calls. I haven’t figured that out yet. I haven’t figured out a lot of things on the phone. I’ve accidentally called some numbers—numbers I don’t even recognize because I didn’t put them in my contact list and I don’t know who or what did. All I have to do is get my fingers close to the screen and something happens. I have taken several lovely pictures of my thigh and the bar code scanner has tried to read my freckles. I keep closing programs—I mean, apps—accidentally, and finding out others have been running for hours and quietly sapping the battery.

This phone is a remarkable piece of equipment. I only wish they’d provided an instruction manual for the instruction manual.

Do you have a “smart phone?” A favorite app? Or do you wish phones would just stay plain phones—preferably with large numbers and screen?

My family came over this past weekend and after they left, I put away the food and carefully separated the dishes according to those that could go into the dishwasher and those that needed hand washing. My hubby expertly loads the dishwasher, but he is not to touch the china or crystal, which he breaks. He loves it when I use the china and crystal. Anyway, I left him to the dishwasher and collapsed in front of the TV to watch TCU beat Oregon State. At halftime, I hear, “Come and see this.” I found him in the dining room. On the table, arranged precisely by type in straight lines (he’s an engineer) is the crystal and china, along with every other hand washable item. They are clean. And whole. “You washed them?” “And I didn’t break or chip any,” he tells me before I can ask. I’m stunned, but grateful, and also beginning to feel a little guilty. And then he hands me a Man Day Pass. It’s a little ticket that says he’s exempt from “engaging in any and all unmanly activities” for twenty-four hours. He’s completely serious. Am I going to argue when he’s just spent a couple of hours cleaning up the kitchen? Not if I ever want him to do the dishes again.

So what did he do with his Man Day? He put up a new antenna (he’s a ham radio operator). It took him all day and although I don’t think it enhances the exterior of the house, I didn’t say anything except, “Don’t fall off the roof.”

Boyfriends, husbands, brothers, fathers, sons–what would the men in your life do with a Man Day Pass?

To continue Rhonda’s theme from yesterday, I’ve returned from the RWA National Conference in Orlando where I also had fun at Harry Potter, but did not win any awards. However, I do have pictures.

The massive literacy signing that kicks off the conference raised over $55,000 in two hours. The authors are sitting alphabetically and since I’m an “M”, I took this picture from the middle. It shows just half the people. There’s an equal number behind me.

After a couple of days of workshops and meetings, we’re ready to party! Here I am at the Harlequin party with Geralyn Dawson. One of the food tables had candy apples with yummy sauces.

All too soon, I was back home and doing laundry.

When you return home after traveling, do you unpack immediately, or put it off until the next day—or week?

Why? The culprits are the vicious fire ants you see crawling on the boots in the picture. Within seconds, they aggressively swarm, attacking anything that disturbs their mound. Each one stings multiple times, injecting a venom that leaves pimple-like blisters that can scar and itch like, well, fire. Their mounds are huge and appear within hours, especially after a rain. A rain, like, oh, the one we had last week because we were on the wet side of Hurricane Alex. Did I mention that fire ants float? You don’t want to go wading in flood waters. ANYway, they build their mounds everywhere, including electrical boxes and air conditioning units and the edges of vegetable gardens belonging to writers who have deadline brain, as perfectly described by Sarah on Monday. And when these writers, who have recently finished their books, stumble outside to rescue their drowning veggies, they aren’t quite as mentally agile as usual and fail to notice the new mound until they are standing right in it. Wearing flip flops. That was Friday. As of this morning, my ankles are back.

Fire ants bring folks together. We can always tell people new to the area because they’ll stare at the ants instead of swatting at them as fast as they can. Complete strangers will race up and start batting at their legs while yelling, “Take off your pants!” People will do this even though they know they’ll probably get bitten on their hands. They’re willing to take a bite to save somebody from serious discomfort.

Fire ants are why you won’t find scenes with couples cavorting in the grass in my Texas-set books. Or wandering barefoot through the grass. Or having picnics on the grass. In fire ant territory, there is no splendor in the grass.

When I use settings I’ve had to research, I always wonder if I’ve missed something like fire ants that I wouldn’t know without living in the area.

What’s something that’s unique to your area of the country or world? What gets overlooked in books and movies? If I set a book in your hometown, what tidbit would I need to know? I’m after insider info, here.