Merry in Madison, GA

Celebrating another glorious wedding anniversary, my sweet husband Bruce surprised me, per my suggestion, with a trip somewhere. I love surprises. A five hour drive northwest from Fernandina Beach, Florida delivered us into the historically charming city of Madison, Georgia. Spared from burning during Sherman's infamous march from Atlanta to the sea, Madison is brimming with antebellum homes. We passed by many a pillared porch and white-painted home in the tradition of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With The Wind. That set the mood for our destination, The Brady Inn, an 1885 Victorian bed and breakfast.

As we passed through the pretty parlor, its walls a rich red, the settee and matching cream upholstered chairs welcomed guests to sit and chat. Our room was filled with period antiques, the high carved headboard, hand quilted spread and marble topped dresser and table complimented the pink patterned rug and blue bordered wallpaper. No television in the room kept the outside world and worries away for two days. Even the full bathroom, cleverly concealed in the tiniest of closets, left us laughing. One could brush his teeth and spit in the sink whilst "seated" at the same time!


Breakfast was a delight both mornings. We were served at any of seven four-top tables situated on a cleverly painted faux rug in a sunny room at the back of the house. The windows overlooked grassy grounds dotted with flowers, new wooden trellises and arches, a bonfire area and an herb garden. Cherry tomatoes from that garden were the base of a spiced salsa of sorts our second morning. The yogurt, granola and fresh blueberries and the spinach quiche were wonderful but we adored the poached pears. Mary, the pretty and peppy hostess, I love peppy in a hostess, was kind enough to give us her secret recipe!



faux room down the hall!

We've staying in quite a few B&Bs over the years. We've been very blessed to do so. The Brady Inn is certainly a place we will visit again, any time we're in mid-Georgia. We recommend it to all with confidence that you will more than enjoy your return to the glory days of the deep South.

faux rug!

There was an unexpected bonus. Scattered discreetly around the inn were small pump bottles of hand sanitizer. For an admitted semi-germ freak, this was quite a perk!

The Brady Inn is located at 250 N. Second St., Madison, Georgia, USA
706 342-4400 or 866 770-0773
http://www.bradyinn.com/

Goodbye Lie Diaries - Miss Ella

1880s June
Fernandina, Florida

Miss Ella writes:  As I always do in the heat of summer, I had the boys remove the detachable headboards from all the beds. Sliding the beds to the windows to catch the breeze makes for much better sleeping. It is also a fine time to clean. The children get such a tickle from finding the big dust bunnies. Aunt Noreen thinks this is in poor taste. Grandmother Peeper giggles and cheers the babies on. So do I, but I am careful not to let Noreen hear me. No need making her moods worse.   

The Goodbye Lie Diaries - Clover

1880s June
Fernandina, Florida

Clover, handyman and fast family Dunnigan friend, writes:

For once, my cow shed smells better than the outside, what with all the smoke from them wild fires. God make it rain more than a splash to put 'um out.

My Favorite Father

Jane Marie, Daddy, brother Bobby

I was blessed with a wonderful father. We loved him so very much. Thank you to Daddy and all the fathers before, now and in the future, who understand their responsibilities and carry them out with patience and sweet love.

Happy Father's Day to all!

Little House on the Prairie

For the first time ever, at a book signing, a man asked me how my Goodbye Lie series set on Amelia Island, Florida is like Little House on the Prairie that takes place in the Midwest. I think he was being a wise-acre. You see, I use this tag line given me by a reader describing my novels: Where Little House on the Prairie meet Gone With The Wind. My answer was quick in coming. While the settings are different, the similarities between my books and Little House are historic and family driven. He pressed me on a few more things and ended up buying both The Goodbye Lie and Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow. Bottom line?  Don't challenge a writer who knows her material! Ha!

Goodbye Lie Diaries- Miss Ella

  ‎

1880s June

Fernandina, Florida

Miss Ella writes:  My sister, Aunt Coe, is visiting us for two weeks.  Our plan was to go sailing for a few hours. We packed a light lunch of fresh tomato sandwiches and sweet tea. Trouble is the smoke from the wild fires in Georgia is as bad as I've ever seen it. We can go out on the water another time and eat at home today.  And when we do eat, we shall say prayers for the dear animals escaping the fire and for those who have not.  Lord, please make it rain.  

Goodbye Lie Trivia

What is the name of the place in New York where Breelan honeymoons

 in the historic suspense novel, The Goodbye Lie, set in 1882 Fernandina on Amelia Island, Florida?



Breelan



Answer: Birch Bark Inn

The Case of the Missing Dryer Sheets

Do you recall me warning everyone that I decided to become eccentric? Just testing your memory. If you don’t remember, you can be a member of my Three Second Memory Club (no application, no rules, no meetings, no dues ). If you do remember, then you’re over qualified for the club but you can still read my blogs and books until you lose your memory.

Back to my so called eccentricities. Bruce, my sweet hubby, asked me if I’d seen the dryer sheets. Why? Because, he does most of the laundry. Actually, he does all the laundry unless we have a fight over him shrinking a linen blouse of mine or something similar. No worries. We become friends again and he’s back sorting the dirty clothes.

“The dryer sheets are on the shelf above the washer and dryer, “ I told him. He’s sometimes challenged in the logic department.

“I can’t find them. I’ve been looking for five minutes. Come show me where they are.”

Dislodging my computer from its Gracious Stick (stay tuned for full disclosure and photos of said G Stick coming soon…) and dumping Button aka Little Naughty, our calico kitty, from the arm of the easy chair, I walked through the kitchen, all 6 steps of it. Arriving at my destination, I pointed directly to the good smelly sheets. “There! Right in front of you.”

He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand to demonstrate a eureka moment. “My mistake,” he said. “Why didn’t I think to look for them inside the box of fresh Swiffer floor pads?”

It was clear he of little common sense craved an explanation.

“It’s like this. Those laundry shelves are overflowing and-“

“Could it be because there are three bud vases, one tall square vase, two tall round vases, a big crock pot, a smaller crock pot, a blender, a chopper, three cookie cooling racks, two detergent bottle, a window cleaner, a huge bleach bottle and assorting tiny, empty, mustard jars—I took inventory while I was searching – and that’s just on the bottom shelf.”

He expected an argument and, ha, ha, he didn’t get one. “You’re right. I do have lots of vases and crock pots. The better prepared I’ll be to welcome fresh bouquets from you and cook you such yummo dishes as Fish Stew, your favorite. (Fish Stew is featured in Mark of a Man, my next novel.)”

Defeated, his only reply was, “Right.”

“As I was saying, since the shelf is so full, I efficiently made more room. I put the dryer sheets inside the box of floor pads. It’s not like I tried to hide them. The box is open on the end for the whole world to see if they want. ” To bring my point home, I pointed at the box within the box.

“One of these days, I’ll learn to ask first,” he said.

We then did what we always do. I smiled as he shook his head.

Pet Peeve

Every one has a pet peeve or two or many.  Happily, I don't have a lot but this is one that jumps out at me from TV ads, magazine ads, talk shows, movies, interviews, newscast banter, radio, just about any media.  It's everywhere!  Want to know what it is? The over use of the word amazing. While the this word, to me, used to be fine to hear, now it seems to be nearly the only descriptive word used these days.  Just listen for a day and count how often you hear it.  So folks, lets expand our vocabulary with some of these old time favorites instead like wonderful, fabulous, magnificent, glorious, marvelous, splendorous, cool, swell, neat, keen or the bees knees?

Goodbye Lie Diaries Catch-Up

I thought we'd play "catch-up" with the Goodbye Lie Diaries since not everyone in the world sees my Facebook page. We can't leave folks out, so here are the latest everyday thoughts of the different historic series characters featured in The Goodbye Lie and Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow. Remember, you and I can read their words but they can't see one another's. SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS UPDATE and scroll back up as you read the entries in the order they were written.


‎1880s June
Fernandina, Florida


Michael Dunnigan (patriarch) writes:
My sister, Noreen, is a real pip. I heard her telling poor Clabe how a hurricane is only bad if it hits you. Charity certainly doesn't begin in her home. Why am I not surprised?

***
‎1880s June
Fernandina, Florida

Aunt Noreen writes:
It is hurricane season again. Heard it is supposed to be bad, what with all the recent tornadoes in Georga and mid-West. Then again, there is no telling. Of course, a hurricane isn't so bad unless it hits you.


***
‎1880s May
Fernandina, Florida


Carolena Dunnigan (oldest sister) writes:
Grandmother Peeper gave me a jar of bacon fat to prevent chapped lips. Aside from making me want a stack of flapjacks & a dozen slice’s of sow bosom, as my Uncle Fries always says, it works. Then I got a small irritation on my lip. Was I suddenly allergic to bacon grease? I a...sked Mama & Peeper. They laughed & said that was impossible. Could it be scurvy or rickets. As a remedy, I ate a half jar of orange preserves since oranges are good for you. That made me sick to my stomach. Hey, the sun cures lots of diseases and upsets. So there I was, sitting on a wooden crate behind Clover’s tool shed to ensure privacy while I sunned my bare ankles. While exposing my limbs, it came to me. I had burned my lip on fried catfish Daddy made for dinner last night. I hope to be healed by tomorrow. If not, I’ll take more drastic measures.


***
‎1880s May
Fernandina, Florida

Miss Ella (Dunnigan family matriarch) writes:
The church gave young Ben a covered dish meal this noon in honor of his departure to seminary tomorrow. His warm, glowing smile and gentle ways will make him a comfort to all in his work for the Lord. I
took fresh sliced strawberries and we served them over Peeper's Angel cake. That seemed appropriate for the occasion. Aunt Noreen made her ice cream. The day was warm but not so warm that the ice should have kept it firm. We suggested it might need more churning. Not one to take advice, the children drank their melted ice cream. Noreen was humiliated and we all tried to sooth her hurt feelings, except Peeper who laughed, by saying it still tasted good. Noreen would have none of it. She went off mad, dragging Clabe and Warren Lowell with her. Ice cream can be difficult to keep firm.


***
‎1884 May
Fernandina, Florida


Breelan writes (2nd  oldest Dunnigan daughter):
It's hot today. More than hot, it's blistering. Sometimes I wish I could go round wearing trousers every day like Daddy and Jack Patrick. It has to be cooler. Then again, I don't know how Waite would find me. One thing is for certain sure. He would still find me, no matter how I dressed.

***
‎1884 May
Fernandina, Florida

Carolena writes (oldest Dunnigan sister):
My hair just won't hold its curl in this Florida humidity. Curly hair gets curlier. Straight hair goes even straighter. It's not fair, diary.

***
‎1884 May
Fernandina, Florida

Grandmother Peeper writes:
I'm makin' up a batch a my best herb plaster ta send ta them poor folks over yonder. Wish I could be agoin' to help 'um but my poor feet is hurtin' me somethin' fierce. Won't be no good ifn' I can't walk around much.


***
1884 May
Fernandina, Florida

Michael Dunnigan (patriarch) writes:
We are so fortunate. Our little town was spared from the tornadoes. Not so lucky are some in our neighboring states of Alabama and Georgia. Fernandina churches are gathering supplies and such for those poor unfortunates suffering from the devastating tornado loss. Miss Ella and the girls baked a dozen loaves of bread and gave much of our store of canned preserves, tomatoes, snap beans and the like. Figuring it was the right color and size, as my father used to say, I wrote a check and delivered the lot to St. Michael's. We've never missed a penny or a thing we've shared.

***
‎1884 May
Fernandina, Florida

Breelan (2nd oldest daughter)writes:
While at the Florida Mirror, I heard it reported bad weather was coming. Tornadoes have been spotted touching down. Folks have lost their lives and livelihoods. God bless them all.

***
‎1884 April
Fernandina, Florida

Breelan (2nd oldest daughter) writes:
Waite heard about a fellow who fell in the pit beneath his outdoor necessary. Apparently, bad boys had moved the little house. Being a lady, after all, I pretended not to laugh, telling him it wasn't fitting, but being a full-time lady can put quite a strain on a girl.


***
‎1884 April
Fernandina, Florida


Captain Waite Taylor writes:
Breelan was down at the Florida Mirror today. I suggested she turn in the following story, Local Fernandina Man has a Moving Experience, about some young hooligans who slud back Oliver Tolliver's outhouse about four feet, and how Oliver was seen running through the moonlight, tearing off his long-johns yelling, "Lordy, Lordy! Lordy!" She didn't think her editor would find my story worthy. Too bad for the Florida Mirror.

Beware the Penguin

"Vicious creatures, they are, with great gnashing teeth. They might look cute but try keeping a cool head when they surround you on the ice in Antarctica."  So sayeth my brother, Bobby, a retired Navy chief, North Pole explorer and now South Pole adventurer. During his recent visit to see us, he brought along videos of his trip to Antarctica by way of Bark Europa, a tall ship. Being an intrepid Brig Niagara tall ship sailor, home port of Erie, Pennsylvania, Bob, knows his stuff when it comes to the sea and mother nature.

So there we were watching his videos. "Don't look at this part, Jane." What a sweet guy, looking out for me like that. When the polar bears ate the seals in his North Pole pics, I hid my eyes as I did now, dread racing through my veins. A prayer of thanksgiving went up from me for Bob because he had survived yet again.


"I mean it. Cover your eyes. This is where the penguins attack me. Except for my tattered clothes, my wounds are healing pretty well," he told us.  "The doctor said the scarring on my legs won't be too bad." These words came from my baby brother as fear of his reliving the attack worried me. How would he react? How would my husband react at seeing this savagery?


The camera's microphone picked up the sound of the frigid wind and the occasional squawk of an albatross or some sea bird. I couldn't look. I could only listen. And as I listened, I remembered how, from earlier photos, Europa was anchored  in deeper water. There was little Bob and his mates could do to save themselves, except wield weapons. A last resort would be the crack of gunfire but it might cause the fragile iceberg on which they stood to cleave, throwing them into the iced water.  A man could live for two minutes in that water he had said.


As my hands still covered my eyes, I waited for his gasps, his screams, hardly able to contain my own at the very idea of his enduring the gnawing teeth and claws of those heinous penguins so often portrayed as cuddly creatures.  I waited, listening. I waited, wondering. I waited until I could wait no longer. "Can I look? Is it over?"


"It's safe now," said Bob. Slowly, very slowly, I  spread my fingers, peeking through them. I can see Bobby wearing his orange thermal snow pants. But he isn't alone. He is surrounded by the vile, smelly black and white creatures. He is under attack!  Attack? One little guy takes three nibbles on his pants, pooh-poohs them from his mouth as if it tasted like a rotten piece of fish, unworthy of being eaten by a grand penguin and then, like Charlie Chaplin, waddled away.


That's when it happened.  Bobby and Bruce burst out laughing.  Oh, I got the joke, all right.  My sweet gullible self had been snookered by my prankster brother and go-along husband, yet again.  My first mistake, as they say, is I believed him, again. Shame on me!

My reward for experiencing such treatment was this official lapis and mother of pearl silver penguin necklace Bobby brought me from Ushuaia, the capital city of Tierra del Fuego Province, Argentina, the southernmost city in the world and the last gift shop on earth on the way to Antarctica.