First, let me tell you where I am not right now - eBook of Kitchen Addiction! is no longer on Smashwords.com.

I've become a KindleTouch user; finally discovering the world of immediate wireless downloads directly to my Kindle - wow; talk about immediate gratification...

But what gave me jungle/Amazon fever was this:  the Kindle version of Kitchen Addiction! that's available online now at Amazon.com, is part of their KDP Select - for a period of 90 days, if you belong to Amazon Prime, you can BORROW my book - for free.

AND - on July 7th and 8th you will be able to download Kitchen Addiction! for free.  Yes, that's right - for those 2 days it will be a  $0.00 Kindle eBook.

I'm still learning, so bear with. 

And of course you can download the recipe booklet, based on Kitchen Addiction! on the samples page of this site any time for free.

It's taken me awhile to research and make these decisions - along with a host of daily downers (broken wrist; family stuff; pet problems; car bashes, etc.).  But read on my twitter account a quote that I really took to heart; I THINK it was a Mark Twain quote; and I'm paraphrasing here -- but it went along the lines of:  if a writer waits to write until she feels like writing; she'll never write.

Hence; my dilemma - that's where I've been. 

Nose is fully out of my burrow and I'm trundling along the writer's path now...hope hear from you soon along the way.
 
 
Writing is weird.  But then my life leans toward odd, too.  Luckily, this pretty inspirational. 

So, when I try to come up with a new chapter in Mina Kitchen’s life, I have a trove of funny memories to dust off.  These I introduce to characters and plots I make up from pixie dust.  I then mash the whole mess together until I come up with what I hope is a funny story.  Otherwise called a whopper.

SPOILER ALERT

It’s no wonder then I had to blog about this one.  It’s definitely going to be one of Mina’s new adventures.  This is a true story:

This weekend I drove to Maryland to visit an old co-worker in her new digs.  Since she used to live near Boston, and now is just a car ride away, we were happy for the opportunity catch up in person.  We hung out; gossiped; window shopped in antique stores and had a lovely late lunch outside at a local bistro. 

Happily, my friend now also lives just 45 minutes from my sister.  So, after visiting with her, I drove off to have dinner and spend the night with my sister and nephew and my mom.  Ma had been visiting my sister last week, to help babysit her grandson during that awkward week post-school closing and pre-camp starting.

I arrived just in time for dinner (of course) and we sat down and chatted about their visit.  The nephew filled me in about his outings with Grandma, which included meeting Mommy for lunch at work on Friday. 

That was when the bickering began.  Mostly, because Grandma was supremely late for the lunch appointment.  But that was because she was supremely lost in DC – easy to do.

“Ma calls me from her car and asks me, where am I?” said my sister.  “How was I supposed to know?”

“But I turned left like you said.”

“You were supposed to turn right at the cross street.”

“But I couldn’t do that.”

“Yes, you could, it’s a one way street going in your direction.”

“No, I could not, because that’s when the two men with machine guns stood in front of the car and stopped us.”

I look at my nephew, who is happily munching salmon.  He catches my eye, and says, “Well, actually Grandma, they weren’t machine guns.  They were rifles.”

This data I wash down with a large glass of wine.

“When were you going to tell me this?” asks my sister, holding her forehead. 

“I forgot,” Ma says. 

My sister looks toward her son.  He shrugs.  “It was no biggie.  Besides, the one guy gave Grandma directions while the other one stopped traffic so we could turn around.”

You see?  If my memory stays in tact; I’m golden.

 

My Zimbio
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