Thanks to all of you who entered the contest I ran this summer. I’m pleased to announce that Barbara Braun of Michigan and Jackie Kenny of Rhode Island have won the last two Family Tree knitting kits. Congratulations, Barbara and Jackie. Your knitting kits will be on their way to you ASAP. For the others of you out there who want to knit up these patterns, which were inspired by Dana, Elizabeth, Saundra, and Lizzie, please visit your LYS (that’s local yarn store). Alternately, you can order the Family Tree Knitting Collection straight from Berroco.

I highly recommend it, because, now that September is here, we knitters are thinking of warm wools. In my case, it’s hats. I’ve gotten away from knitting full sweaters for my grandkids – they outgrow them too quickly! Hats are the perfect solution. I pick a different pattern each winter and make hats out of the same pattern but in each child’s favorite colors. The fall before last, I knit sweet little berets. Last year, I knit hats with ear flaps that came down in a long strip to form a built-in scarf.

What to do this year? I was just starting to wonder when, coincidentally, I picked up a new book called Great Garter Stitch – and there it was, the perfect hat for my grands. It is worked in two colors, in a clever pattern that involves stitches of either straight knitting or knitting in the row below the current row. The end result gives a herringbone or polka-dot effect, depending on your vision. In either case, it’s really cool. What’s also cool is the favorite colors that came (humbly, of course) in response to my request. Ariel’s will be orange and pink, Sasha’s purple and green, Hannah’s brown and pink, and Ruby’s – what else? – ruby and white. I’ll have a ball working with all these different colors.

Of course, the pattern in the book is for an adult head, and the four children mentioned above range from 11 months to 6 years, so some adjustments have to be made. No sweat. I bought the yarn I wanted to use (actually, the one that gave me the best choice of colors), knitted up swatches, and used my trusty calculator to figure out how many stitches to cast on for each child. I’m only on the first hat, but the pattern is great fun to do. It’s also relatively easy, which is going to be important as I get into fall and back to writing again. Once I’m concentrating on work, knitting must be relaxing.

By the way, I do have that new book idea now and am just starting to flesh it out. I’ll tell you about it soon. First, though, I want to share the promised author photo thoughts. That’s for my next blog.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 12:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This blog is not about politics. It’s about survivorship, and it will be short.

Ted Kennedy is a survivor. He has lost family members under tragic circumstances, has seen one son battle bone cancer, a daughter battle lung cancer, another son battle drug addiction. He has broken his back in a plane crash, and lives with the guilt of driving the car in which a young woman died, an accident that derailed his greatest political dreams. But he keeps coming back. He has spent the last forty years fighting for those less fortunate than him, has learned the art of compromise, has taken stands that, while not always the most popular, are ones in which he deeply believes.

Now he battles brain cancer. Yet there he was last night, clearly thrilled to be speaking about the causes of his heart at his party’s convention. He didn’t tug on JFK heartstrings or evoke RFK images, though he might have done both. When the audience roared their approval of his words, he laughed in delight.

Here is a man making the most of life, even in the midst of chemotherapy and radiation. For all we know, this was his last prime time appearance. For all we know, this may have been his last public appearance, period. The prognosis for the cancer he suffers is not good.

But last night, he was upbeat and strong. We could all take a lesson from him.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 11:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I’m from Boston, where one’s first thought on hearing the phrase “going green” is that it must be St. Patrick’s Day. That’s a big day around here – a holiday, actually. Oh, the holiday is formally called Evacuation Day, but it means that state offices are closed, so local folks can enjoy St. Patty’s Day parades.

But that’s not the green I mean. I mean the environment. And wow, am I bad about some things. I use paper towels like they’re going out of style. I buy bottled water by the case, drink those little plastic suckers dry, and toss them out. When I’m cold, I raise the heat.

That said, I’m starting to think green, which means that I feel guilty when I do the above. I was mystified last week, listening to a news piece about oil fields in west Texas that were abandoned twenty years ago but are now being reopened with new technology that can bring up oil the old technology could not. Hey, I’m thrilled for the locals. But when are we going to put our efforts into producing alternative fuels – renewable fuels?

In a recent speech, Hillary Clinton referred to “green collar jobs.” Now please. I am not endorsing Hillary Clinton, simply borrowing a phrase from her speech. “Green collar jobs” is a great term. I had never heard it before, but I do believe that we need to develop an economy around alternative sources of energy. Of course, that’s still a ways off. So what do we do in the meantime?

Well, I bought a hybrid last spring. Granted, it’s an SUV, but it’s still a hybrid, which means that instead of getting 18 mpg, I’m getting 27 mpg. That’s an improvement of 50%, which means significantly less gas used.

I’ve also purchased reusable supermarket bags. They’re nice green things with the supermarket logo on the front, good storage space inside, and long handles. I keep them in the trunk of my car – that’s my hybrid – and take them with me into the market. I get a nickle rebate each time I use one of these bags. That’s four bags totalling 20 cents, times five visits per month, equaling $1.00. Bingo. I’ve paid for one reusable bag in full.

My latest green endeavor is one I picked up while working out last week to the TODAY show. Do you get endless catalogues? How many do you read? Me, I toss half of them in the recycle bin (hey, there’s another good thing!) on my way into the house from the roadside mailbox. Think about the waste – of wood, paper, water, time, effort, muscle (my poor postman!) – I could go on and on. But that’s where www.catalogchoice comes in. Click on it and register, then start declining those catalogs. I registered right after the show, and now, each day, I take the catalogues as they arrive in the mail, go to my computer, pull up www.catalogchoice, and click “decline”. If you have a customer number, great, but it’s not necessary. You do have to be careful to enter the name to which the catalogue is addressed; some use my middle initial, some do not. But even adding names is simple, which means I can decline on my husband’s behalf as well. The TODAY show says it may take up to ten weeks for a denial request to take effect. But that’s better than nothing. And I feel good in the process!

Next up? Those spiraling, fuel-efficient light bulbs.

What do you do to help the environment? I’d like to hear.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 04:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I don’t know about you, but I’m growing wary of expiration dates. Reach for the Tylenol in your medicine chest, and it seems that the expiration date on the bottle has just come and gone. Same with a tube of Neosporin, a container of Airborne, or a sheet of cold tablets. Same with eye drops and rubbing alcohol. Same with vitamins. And these are non-prescription items. Prescription ones are even worse.

A doctor’s prescription is only good for a year – and I can understand that, given the all-too-frequent abuse of prescription drugs. But once you have a tube of prescription face cream in your possession, is there a problem using it past the “discard after” date on the label? Is it about potency – that the strength decreases with time? Or simply that when you toss the old one, you have to buy a new one, which means more money for manufacturers and vendors?

What made me think about this was the Thanksgiving holiday, when my son was home and looking for mayo in the fridge. There was an unopened bottle … whose expiration date was last month. He chose to use mustard on his sandwich instead. So, was there a danger in using the mayo? Had it gone bad by the expiration date, even if the bottle hadn’t ever been opened?

What about bottled water, whose expiration date is a year after it is produced? Does it go bad after that first birthday? Does canned soda lose its fizz? There looked to be plenty of fizz last month when I systematically opened a dozen cans of soda and dumped the contents because the expiration date had passed. What about all those canned juices, soups, and fish that some of us stockpile for the epidemic of bird flu about which the media terrifies us from time to time? Does it go bad by the expiration date, even if it’s sitting unopened in a cool basement?

Some things we can eyeball, like lettuce. The printing on the bag says, “Best sold by such-and-such a date,” but does that mean we shouldn’t use it after that date? What if it looks, smells, and tastes perfectly good?

Tea bags have an expiration date. Same with oatmeal. And olive oil. And toothpaste. Even my cat’s food has an expiration date, and it is dry, hard food.

Are expiration dates nothing more than scare tactics to ensure new sales? Or is there a very practical and important purpose for them?

I’d love some feedback on this. Any of you work for drug companies and want to give it a try?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and here I am, at six in the morning, with a little window of time. The prep work is done -- turkey in the fridge, counters lined with feast-makings, sofa-beds pulled out and made up, PackNPlay assembled, car seats installed -- and, on their end, the kids are getting ready to leave home for the airport to fly to see us.

My family is well and happy, and I have four beautiful grandchildren to celebrate this year. I am thankful for that.

I am thankful that my husband and I are healthy, and so looking forward to having our whole family around us. It isn't often that it happens. Once adult children get married, they have to split holidays between in-laws. This year we've lucked out and are having everyone here. I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful for my friends, who have put me so well on a path toward a Happy Thanksgiving, and I'm thankful for my agent, my editor, my assistant, who take care of business while I write.

I'm also thankful for you. Without my readers, I'm no writer at all. So please know how appreciated you are, wherever you are, on this Thanksgiving. And have a wonderful holiday!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 06:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I’m thinking of libraries that have suffered from fire or flood and are trying to rebuild. I have a book stash in my basement and would love to send a CARE package of backlist titles, but believe it or not, I’ve had trouble getting the names of libraries in need.

Do you know of any? I don’t mean libraries with funding problems. Sadly, they all have those. At this time, though, I mean libraries that have been hit by catastropic damage. Katrina victims are obvious targets, but I’ve already exhausted those.

Help!!!!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The penalty against the Patriots and Coach Bill Belichick for videotaping the opposing team has made me think about the ubiquitous presence of cameras. In the instance of the Patriots, the equipment used was large and obvious – after all, they didn’t think they had anything to hide. Now that the authorities have decided that the Patriots’ filming activity was illegal, videocams on every field will be watched with an eagle eye to make sure nothing like this happens again.

But it seems to me that some time ago we lost the ability to monitor what’s being captured on film and what is not. Cameras are everywhere, some so small that they fit in the palm of a hand. Watch a concert, and hands in the air are holding cameras as often as they’re clapping; watch a baseball game, and fans are taking pictures as often as they’re doing the wave. You can’t buy a cell phone that doesn’t have a built-in camera – and these can prove useful. Remember the recent tragic collapse of the bridge in Minneapolis? People who took tapes and photos as the bridge collapsed helped the authorities zero in on possible structural causes. Amateur photographers captured license plate numbers that helped police trace the identities of missing cars that subsequently slipped into the Mississippi.

I used to be a photographer. I was very sensitive to those people who happened to be in my line of fire – and for good reason. My camera used film and a sophisticated telephoto lens. That camera was large. If you took someone’s picture, they knew it. I can’t tell you the efforts I went to making sure that I had the okay, preferably written, of those who appeared on my film.

Not so today. We’re photographed all the time, often in the name of security, so we’ve become inured to it. The rules have changed, and it’s just the beginning. The Patriots may come to look like Saints, if we learn that other teams have been using smaller, hidden cameras.

Then again, if that’s the case, we may never know.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I can't open things up. I'm talking mouthwash, Clorox, pill bottles -- all those caps that you have to push down on and twist at the same time. Oh, I press and twist, and still the cap doesn't open. I repeat the motion once, twice, and maybe then I succeed. If not, I call on my husband to help, and then I start wondering what's wrong with my hands.

Is it just me?

I have this problem with peel-back tops, too. Like with the little cartons of egg beaters and yogurt, with the fine foil lids that have to be pulled back. I grab the tab and pull. And pull. I let go, dry my hands, and try again, then shift and try with the other hand. Finally I take a knife and cut through the foil, which, of course, makes things messy. And then there are "pull-tabs," the things that are supposed to let you open a mailer, say, a book you've just received from amazon. You pull the tab, and it tears off. You try the other side, struggle with it, then grab a pair of pliers, grit your teeth, and pull.

Is it just me?

And those plastic containers -- you know, the 8-pack of batteries or the new card reader for my camera or, goodness, even the cat toy I just bought for Chelsea. Cat toy! Ok, I go straight to the scissors for that kind of plastic packaging, and not my little knitting scissors or even my normal kitchen scissors. I grab the heavy duty scissors and cut one end of the package, then try to tug it open. Nothing. I cut the other end of the package and tug. Maybe I can squeeze part of the item out now, but more often than not I have to cut a third edge before the whole thing comes free.

Is it just me?

I do understand that manufacturers are trying to deter theft. But really. All of these items have the store's little electronic tab that sets off the alarm at the door, so isn't this kind of mega-packaging overkill? My sister suggested that manufacturers are also trying to deter people from neatly opening a package and, undetected, inserting something that shouldn't be there (like poison), and I can actually buy this argument. But how sad it is that we have to worry about this. The world has become a scary place.

That's the reason I buy relaxation CDs. I get them home, remove the thin plastic wrap (with a knife, thank you), then struggle with the label that holds the case closed. If you pull, you get the label torn raggedly and not open at all. If you pull too hard, you risk breaking the CD case itself. If you use a knife, it slips and you cut yourself. I actually got a how-to tip once from a young woman at the checout counter of a music store. Mind you, she knew nothing about New Age music, which was what I wanted, but she did open lots of CDs. She suggested that once the outer plastic wrap was off, I gently disengage the bottom hinge of the CD, raise the now-disconnected top lid and, still gently, peel the label from the bottom lid, then peel it from the top, re-engage the hinges, and -- bingo -- done! I does work ...

... which means I have soothing music to listen to while I struggle to remove the tiny labels on each of twelve new juice glasses I just bought at Crate and Barrel. Next time I buy glasses, I'm going to get everything to the register, pay for it, then tell the clerk I'll return it there and then unless he removes the labels before I take the glasses home. Can you imagine if we all asked that?

Or ... is it just me?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 06:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I have a convertible. It is eleven years old, and we’ve taken good care of it, so it remains in mint condition. As with so many convertibles, the visibility out the back window is marginal, so I only drive mine with the top down. My very favorite season to do this is spring, after a long winter inside, when the air is starting to warm and the sun to gain strength. I’ve been known to drive with the top down on a cool but sunny April day with the heat blasting.

Okay. So there I am on the road, driving around with the top down and a sense of freedom second to none, and I come to a four-way stop. Here in Massachusetts, we have a lot of these now, and I like them. First come, first served. You stop, then proceed in the order in which you reached the stop sign. On occasion, it’s questionable as to who got there first. When I’m driving the convertible, feeling relaxed and benevolent, I usually gesture for the other driver to go ahead, which he always does. Does he wave? Or nod? Or even smile his thanks? Not usually.

Same with when I’m turning off a main road toward, say, the drive-thru at McDonald's for my trusty medium Diet Coke, no ice. If a person is waiting to exit, I wave them on before I turn. Same with most any turn I make when I’m in laid-back mode. I'll confess that when I’m in the convertible, it’s partly self-defense. I’m smaller than most cars and am not about to pick a fight. But I also drive an SUV and many, many times will wave someone on before me. Do they acknowledge this? Rarely.

I do acknowledge another driver’s politeness. If I’m coming from a side street and someone motions me forward onto the main road, I make a point to wave or smile or, at the very least, nod vigorously. This makes me feel really good, like I’m contributing to a civility that we seem to have lost. When I let people go ahead of me on the road, it makes me feel polite and generous. It actually makes me feel more in control.

I’ve often thought that what we need in our high-tech cars is a mechanism whereby we can press a button and light a sign saying, “Thank you,” or “You go first,” or even “What’s your rush, bub?”

Coincidentally, I was in the middle of writing this blog when I paused to watch the Mid-Day News and saw that the Pope has issued a Ten Commandments of Driving. Now there’s an idea, too. Give it some thought.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

A while back, I had addressed a group of writers and readers, when, in the Q & A session that followed, the subject of the many, many, many hours I spend writing came up. Specifically, a reader asked, “What do you do when you’re not writing books?” “Laundry,” I replied without a second’s thought – and I actually think it’s true. Laundry is right up there with food shopping and housecleaning on a list of things that simply can’t be put off for the whole nine months it takes me to write a book.

Having mothered three sons, I’ve done so many loads of laundry that I pretty much do it in my sleep. It’s actually a productive work break for me, meaning that whether I’m gathering the dirty things, loading the washer, transferring wet clothes to the dryer, or folding the finished product, I’m away from the computer but still thinking about my book. Sometimes that thinking is so on-target that I’ll drop the laundry in the middle of whatever stage, and run back to my computer to make sure that I don’t forget the brilliant idea, argument, or phrase that had come to mind. Laundry can be truly inspiring.

It can also be frustrating, which is why I’d like to share a tip or two and invite more. Not all laundry is run-of-the-mill with fabulous results. Let’s talk about the stubborn little stains that come more often now that spring is here and we’re apt to be wearing a lighter weight, lighter color top that shows every little stain in ways that winter sweaters do not.

Take the tiny dots of grease that appeared on my tee-shirt tunic the other day. How’d they get there? It took me a while to realize that they had spattered on me when I pulled off the top of the can of cooking spray. I mean, really tiny dots right there on my chest for all the world to see. I’ve found that the best way to get them out is to squirt a little Shout Gel on them, scrub them a little with the built-in brush, then wash. If the shirt in question is white, a little clorox on a Q-Tip, dabbed on the stain before washing, does the trick.

Speaking of tricks, here’s another. Jeans shrink a tad each time I wash them, even if I don’t put them in the drier, but if they don’t tumble a little, they’re stiff and hard. So I do put them in the dryer – but only for 12 minutes. Literally, I set my kitchen timer for 12 minutes and go about my other business while the drier is tumbling. When the timer goes off, I take the now-damp jeans out, pull them by hand first widthwise, then lengthwise to stretch them. Then I hang them to air dry the rest of the way.

This stretching trick works on other clothes, too, like the tunic that did cover my butt pre-washing but post-washing does not. A little tug here or there prior to drying does it.

If you have tips and tricks -- like how to most efficiently remove all of those tiny white shreds when a piece of tissue accidently goes through the wash and gets all over everything, or how to get towel lint off wool socks -- I'd love to hear them. Post ‘em in the Guestbook, maybe?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 04:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

How many of us turned on the evening news to see Katie Couric on her first night at the job? How many of us picked up the phone when she was done and phoned a friend to discuss her performance? How many of us have found Katie to be a topic of conversation among groups of our friends, particularly when those friends are female?

Me. Me. Me. I'm guilty of all three -- guilty, because there is a certain ... cattiness to it. Were we as eager to assess the performance of Charles Gibson when he took over as evening news anchor on another station? No. Charles isn't a woman. If he were, we'd have been more avid critics. We would have taken his performance more personally.

That, I think, is the gist of it. My knitting group discussed the phenomenon yet again last night, this time with regard to Meredith Vieira. Women are harder on women because we identify with them and SO want them to succeed that we protest each and every tiny fault that, we fear, might prevent that. As a woman rooting for a woman, we look at hair and makeup and clothes, because the real world has conditioned us to deem these important. Yes, we consider substance. But we know that if we show up somewhere wearing a jacket that is too tight or makeup that is too heavy -- or if we've put on a couple of pounds -- the men in the room will notice and pass judgment before they hear much of what we have to say.

On the Katie issue, I'm as guilty as the rest. I want her to look perfect, as I define perfect. I want her to sound perfect and report on exactly the things I want to hear. I want her to set the world on its heels. Poor Katie. I'm a tough critic.

For the record, I am a devotee of Charles Gibson, in large part because the ABC White House correspondent, Martha Raddatz, is a close friend of mine. I loved Elizabeth Vargas before Charlie, and I loved Ann Curry on TODAY.

I'm loving Meredith Vieira more and more as she grows into the job. I'm enjoying her maturity, her humor and her gravitas, her banter with Matt and Al. I don't love all of her clothes, but then, I don't love all of my own. I like her makeup, and I love the fact that she has bad hair days, just like me. I'm counting on other women feeling the same and, thus, guaranteeing her success.

Yes, I'm harder on women, but only because I want them to succeed.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm in heaven! Yes, I wear jeans, but I think they are very uncomfortable. Me, I'm a leggings person -- still have them in my drawer from the last time they were in style. And now they're back. No, I won't wear them with under a micro-skirt the way kids are doing, but I think they have an elegance when worn with a long, belted blouse or a belted sweater. And with high boots? Really smart, really comfortable, really warm in winter. I gotta say, the return of leggings does compensate some for the demise of summer.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yesterday is another example of what I was saying in my last blog -- and I feel torn on one hand talking about this, with so much of the world at war. But maybe we all need time out to breathe. So here goes.

I woke up leisurely to a delightfully cool and dry morning. Took a long walk. Returned, read the paper, knitted. Went out on the boat to cross the lake, dock in Meredith (NH), have lunch under umbrellas overlooking the bay. Shopped around. Got back on the boat and returned to our home. Knitted. Talked on the phone. Took a long kayak ride on a whisper-quiet lake as the sun lowered at the end of the day. Had an amazing dinner cooked by a friend. Hazelnut decaf at the very end, with loon calls in the background.

Yes, with so much turmoil going on in the world, updated regularly on my computer screen, the day was truly a moment out of time. We all need an escape. What's yours?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In a nutshell? Get away from work! For the first time since I began writing, I am doing zero writing this summer. Rather, I'm visiting with family and friends, knitting and reading, enjoying the lake in ways I've not done in previous years. Know what, though? During quiet times, I've thought a lot about my next book. I've worked out many of the plot twists and turns, and have finally bonded emotionally with my protagonist, which means that a week from today, when I'm back in my office, I'll be able to start writing. I'm eager to do that. I feel really refreshed!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ever have one of those? Yesterday was my turn. I was taking a day away from the lake and returning to the city for a few hours of work and errands, and I had everything planned down to the minute. Sure enough, that alarm clock went off at 4:15 AM on the nose.

Then I realized I had forgotten to shower the night before, so I raced into the shower. And Chelsea's litter box was unusually full, so I cleaned that out, too. I was on the road by 5:05 and then 10 minutes into the drive to the highway when an emergency light came on. Do YOU know what each of those symbols mean? I pulled over at the nearest gas station, took my manual from the glove box, discovered that the problem was tire pressure -- and this gas station had no air pump. I drove fearfully to the next and filled one very, very low tire, but only after I had shoved in extra quarters when the last of the requisite three jammed.

Hit the highway at 5:55. Dead standstill in traffic at 6:55. Another standstill at 7:35. Home at 8, 50 minutes late. Did my work, left in my husband's car for the hairdresser's, only to find my husband had only one quarter in his little change bin for a quarters only meter -- and that in the two weeks since I'd last parked in that lot, the meters had been changed to one quarter for 30 minutes, rather than one for an hour. Hairdresser ran late (I knitted), making me late for the manicurist, and I had to drive through downpours (and a few other traffic standstills) on the way home.

But hey, I got a good night sleep and today's another day. Granted, it's still raining, and the first time I wrote out this long blog it disappeared into cyberspace, nowhere to be found, when I clicked on "Add." But you got it this time, right? So things are looking up!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here we are at June 21. I do love the lead-up to this date, because the days have been getting longer and longer, and I love long days. Remember back in the middle of winter, when things turned dark and the day felt over at 4:30? To have light well past 8:30 at night is a true gift!

The bad part of reaching June 21, of course, is that it's all downhill from here. So let's make the most of the long days, appreciating them more precisely because they are fleeting.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I hate having my picture taken. If I were to pinpoint the single most painful part of my career, it's that. Too many times, I've gone through the fiasco of having a photographer, two assistants, a stylist, an art director, and an editor all focused on me -- and I'm expected to relax? Well, I've found the antidote for that. His name is Jerry Bauer.

Jerry is a photographer, an American who lives in Rome and comes to the States several times a year to photograph authors. I pick him up at my local train station, and he's carrying a small shoulder bag that holds two cameras -- one loaded with color, one with black and white. That's film, ladies and gentlemen. He does not use a digital camera. And he uses no flash, only available light.

He and I wander around my home. When he sees a natural light moment, we stop, and he takes a few pictures, some in color, some in black and white. We move on, take a few more, I change outfits. It's just the two of us, and over an eight year span and three sessions like this, we've come to work well together.

And the resulting photos? Fabulous! I have plenty of new ones now to keep me for another few years, until Jerry and I get together again. Oh yeah, you'll see them. I'll be posting them here at the site, starting with the HOME page. Keep an eye out for it!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

As I write this, I'm listening to the Dixie Chicks' new CD, "Taking the Long Way." It's absolutely amazing! If you haven't heard it yet, buy a copy now. Hurry, while it's heavily discounted on amazon.com! Likewise Bruce Springsteen's "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions." Whether you're a folkie like me who remembers Pete Seeger, or a fan of Springsteen, or simply someone who wants to have a rollicking good time, get your hands on this CD soon!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 01:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Simply put, please know how grateful I am for all of you, and how sincerely I wish you the best of holiday celebrations. In this season of lights, may your own lives be radiant with good health, happiness, and peace.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Is it possible? I think it is, because I had such an experience yesterday. I dared go to the mall for a last minute errand -- actually contemplated putting it off until after the holiday, coward that I am -- but it turned out that I had a great time. Here's how.

First, knowing that the roads, parking lots, and stores would be crowded, I allowed extra time for my errand. I assumed there would be delays and wasn't impatient when, in fact, there were.

Second, I had cleared my schedule to allow enough time to just walk around for a few minutes after my errand was done. Now, that's the way to enjoy holiday shopping -- have NO shopping to do and just wander around enjoying the decorations, the other shoppers, and the spirit.

Third, caught up in that spirit, I smiled. Funny, how when you do that, people smile back. And this, too, is a factor of slowing down. Meandering through the crowds, I found myself chatting with others who were doing the same. I had a really nice time!

Okay. With so few shopping days left before the holidays, I'm probably saying what you all already know, or what it's too late for you to DO! If not, try it. Mingle with holiday shoppers and make that an activity in and of itself.

By the way, if you notice that I refer to "holiday" or "holidays," it's a deliberate thing, and I guess I'm weighing in on the current controversy and, in so doing, risking annoying some of you. But there are many different holidays celebrated this December, all of which support the economy. Would you have stores say Merry Christmas only, and exclude those who don't celebrate Christmas? Would you have stores put up only Chanukah banners, and exclude those who don't celebrate Chanukah? Isn't it a matter of respect, in public places, to use the more general "holiday"? It's called being inclusive, and, if memory serves me, it's the credo on which the creation of these United States was based.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One of the things I like about the holiday season is being able to thank, with a gift, the people who have helped me during the year. I'm talking about the person who delivers my morning paper, the mailman, the UPS guy. I'm also talking about the people in publishing with whom I've worked. In past years, I've sent out gifts whose content related to an about-to-be-published book of mine. In some instances, I put in much time, effort, and expense to do so. But I came to realize that few of the recipients even got the point of the gifts, much less bothered with a thank you.

So this year I made a charitable contribution in the names of all of these people, then sent them cards to this effect. To date, I haven't received a single thank you, but at least my gift is going for a good cause.

That is some solace for what seems to be a decline in manners. I was taught that when I received a gift, I owed the giver a thank you. This could be a note, a phone call, or, now, an email. It's very easy. Yet friends I talk with have found the same thing, that few of the people they send gifts to acknowledge them.

What's wrong with us? Are our lives too busy? Do we get so many gifts that no single one matters? Think about it, please. DO something about it. If you receive a gift this season, thank the giver. It's the right thing to do.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just took off my watch. I un-latched it and removed it from my wrist -- and not to adjust the time, as I do twice a year when Eastern Standard Time becomes Daylight Savings Time. This morning, I put my watch on a closet shelf and left it there.

I can't tell you how out-of-character this is. I've probably worn a watch since I was six, when my birthday gift was one with Snow White on its face. Time mattered to my family. We were never late going places. NEVER. (My sister is probably laughing in appreciation as she reads this.) We were either early, or right on time.

But here we are, more than halfway through the holiday season, and I don't know where Thanksgiving went! Ten more days, and Christmas will be over, then, a week after that, New Year's, then we're into January, which may drag, what with all that ice, snow, and darkness, but that's not my point here. Time flies way too much of the time.

So I'm going to try to slow it down by keeping it off my wrist. This is my protest. I mean, it's not like I won't know what time it is. There are wall clocks all over the place, plus read-outs on the TV, the radio, the dashboard of my car. Will the need to have a read-out on my body get to me after a day, a week, a month without? I'll let you know.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thirty-one years ago tonight, I went into labor. It was two weeks before my due date, which was exactly how early my first son had come. But this time I was carrying twins. Since I was warned that twins often came really early, I had been expecting them for weeks.

So this evening -- I remember it was at 8-ish on a Friday -- I felt the first tell-tale cramps. And suddenly, much as I wanted this huge weight and girth gone from my body, I didn't want the babies born just then. It was December 13, the anniversary of my mother's death. I was eight when she died, and the day has always been a poignant one for me.

So I willed off the twins' birth, labor and all, until the next morning.

Afterward, it occurred to me that their being born on the date she died would have been beautiful in its way. But I'm glad things worked out as they did. I like being able to remember my mother on December 13 and celebrate my twin sons on December 14. And celebrate I do. They weighed in at nearly 13 pounds combined. That's lots of baby.

They're lots of man now, each of them. How else could they be, and still encompass my mother's spirit?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This week, we suddenly lost someone who was very dear to someone who is very dear to us. He wasn't old, and had much living to do, much happiness to experience. Too soon and without warning, he is gone.

So I was going to write you about valuing each and every day as if it were your last.

And I did start to write that. But the meaning changed halfway through. I found myself writing about the people whom we see gathering in this holiday season for a rite they hadn't expected, and the comfort we have found in these friends and family, many of whom we haven't seen in months. And I'm suddenly remembering a song from the past. It speaks of the need for community and, perhaps, sends a greater message of peace in these troubled times.

"No man is an island, no man stands alone. Each man's joy is joy to me, Each man's grief is my own. We need one another, so I will defend, Each man as my brother, Each man as my friend."

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Whew. That's done. All the pictures I took over Thanksgiving are finally printed -- a set for me, a set for my husband to take to work, a set for our kids. All were taken with my digital camera and printed in high-gloss after varying amounts of rotating, cropping, and other miscellaneous fiddling.

In theory, there is no need for me to make any prints at all. I am perfectly capable of storing the pictures on a CD. So why do I spend so much time editing and printing?

Because it isn't enough to be able to turn on the camera or put a CD in the computer. I want to look at these pictures again and again, whenever, wherever, and with whomever. There's a kind of security in having them in my hand, like the spare pound of coffee in the freezer. Yes, I have my memories. But having hard copy, so to speak, means I never run out.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

As I drove through the center of town last night, I saw that the blue lights were lit -- a sign of holiday tidings decorating the maples on the town green -- and I felt something warm inside.

I am a Jew. Growing up in schools that were largely non-Jewish, my sisters and I were taught Christmas carols in three-part harmony in Glee Club (I was an alto), to sing at school assemblies and at nursing homes. Was I corrupted? Of course, not. Did my Jewishness suffer for my having sung of the birth of Jesus? Of course, not! Not only did these songs teach me about Christianity, but they gave my parents the opportunity to discuss how our religion differed from it and why.

We were confident in our identity, all the more so for having grown up in the wake of Hitler's scourge. We enjoyed seeing others celebrate their holidays, while we celebrated our own.

It is in this spirit that I welcome these blue lights on the town green. They mark the start of a season that I love for its message of tolerance, good will toward men, and peace.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This was the topic on which two other women and I spoke this morning to a group of 120 women, members of the Hebrew Senior Life Women's Auxiliary, centered in Boston. I was the last of the three to speak, and normally would have been too focused on my own notes to hear what the others said. But not this time. The two others -- one a State Representative and the other the head of a major business -- told fascinating stories of how they quite unexpectedly got to where they are today. What intrigued me most was that they touched on issues similar to mine. They talked about recognizing one's strengths -- and then taking risks. They talked about personal growth, about daring to do something they hadn't originally seen in their life plans. They talked about wanting to do something for the public good. As I sat with these two women, in a room filled with people who don't just talk about being compassionate and generous, but actually DO it, I felt ... proud.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When the sun came out on a gorgeous afternoon at the lake yesterday, we went hiking, which is what one does up there after the summer equipment has been stored and the water temperature becomes unbearably cold. We picked a mountain we've done before, a mild one that takes maybe ninety minutes to climb. Halfway up, huffing and puffing (though I'm in good physical shape), I had an epiphany.

I hate climbing. I love walking. But I hate climbing.

Trudging up that hill, I kept trying to remember details of the climbing I'd done as a child, but the memories that came back were of the peanut-butter-and-jelly crackers we ate up on top. Guess that tells you were my priorities lay.

I remember recent hikes more clearly. Yes, indeed, I hated the climb, but loved the summit -- which is probably why next time my husband suggests we go hiking, I'll nod and lace on my boots. But I'll know the truth and be prepared.

Actually, once I admitted yesterday how much I hated hiking, I climbed better. I like to think that honesty is good for the soul, but who knows? Maybe I just got my second wind.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Huge thanks for the notes that you all are sending in response to my website redesign. It's gratifying to me when you say that you like the ease of navigation, the prominence of the new books, and the serenity of the colors. These are all things we shot for. Looks like we hit the target.

That said, many of my regulars miss the Daily Poll. We've been sending notes to all of you, but I say here for the record that while I miss it in theory, I don't miss it at all in practice. Know what it's like coming up with a different poll for each day of each of the last three years? It's tough. I mean, my expertise is writing books, not polls.

This blog is another matter. It's like writing a few paragraphs of a book, but done on a fresh topic every few days. So those of you who are used to dropping by here often, please continue to do it to read my blog. I'll be posting entries every few days. You'll also be able to read the latest entries in the GUESTBOOK posted by fellow readers. I'm hoping that this feature will be operational within a few days.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Last night I spoke at a fundraiser for Casa Myrna Vazquez, the largest sheltering program for battered women and children in New England. The function was called, "Words to Live By." Each year a writer is invited to talk. This year, it was me.

Since Casa Myrna Vazquez focuses on helping and empowering women who have been abused, I spoke of the role of books in giving women a boost. If you've read my novels, you know that I write about women who face unusual challenges -- no, I take that back, they face challenges that may be tragic but are not so unusual. Reading about how and what they do can be inspirational.

I brought with me -- and read from -- a collection of letters from women were inspired enough by my books to make changes in their lives. These letters always amaze me. As I said to the group at Casa Myrna, knowing I can touch the lives of others is what makes the endless work I put into my books every bit worth the while.

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)