One might think I might be a bit of a pervert, based on this post. And one might, in fact, be correct. “Write about what one knows” indeed!

Completely forgot to report I’d gotten contributors’ copies of The Big Book of Bondage and Serving Him: Sexy Stories of Submission. Aren’t they pretty, especially on the leather chair?

Also, I just received official word that my story “Bridle Party” will appear in the female-sub anthology Slave Girls, edited by D.L King, coming from Cleis. No cover or pub date yet, but the Table of Contents is below, and it boasts some impressive names:

Noise by Evan Mora

Out of Sight by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Cubed by Alison Tyler

Serving Mr. Baldwin by Veronica Wilde

Press My Buttons by Nina Fairweather

Breathe by Sommer Marsden

What’s Not to Like by D. L. King

Hell Bent for Leather by Victoria Behn  (sorry, Victoria, but I couldn’t find your Website)

Passing the Final by Donna George Storey

Bridle Party by Teresa Noelle Roberts (hey, that’s me!)

The Red Envelope by Erzabet Bishop

Greens’ by Lisette Ashton

Breaking Fiona by Cecilia Duvalle

Muse by Lisabet Sarai

Postcards From Paris by Giselle Renarde

Flight by Cela Winter (sorry–couldn’t find your site either)

Savoring Little One by Graydancer

Day Job by Deborah Castellano

Stand Here by Nym Nix

Dirty Pictures by Thomas Roche

My Master’s Mark by Lydia Hill (aka Lise Horton, when she’s writing slightly less naughty stuff)

I have a cover for Cougar’s Courage and it’s gorgeous! Kim Killion of Hot Damn Designs/The Killion Group is the cover artist. Rick Mora is the handsome guy portraying my hero Jack Long-Claw. I love that he’s not a kid and has a bit of weather on his face and experience in his eyes, because Jack, though only in his early thirties, has mileage (being both a shifter and a shaman means he’s had an interesting life) and acquires a lot more in the course of the book.  I don’t know who the blond model is, but she works well for Cara, who’s a tough, competent cop and no wilting flower, but is also a bit vulnerable because I’m a mean, mean author and piled troubles on the poor woman, including Jack, who could paraphrase Tony Stark in Iron Man 3: “You’re involved with me, you’re never going to be ‘all right.’ ” Except, of course, they’ll be fine… in their own special way.

Today I decided to eat my breakfast on the back deck, listening to the birds in the backyard trees and watching the world go by. And that decision made this a non-productive, but wonderful day. I decided I couldn’t bear to go inside and spent a couple of hours in the garden, planting out a few tomato seedlings and putting others into bigger pots, repotting a viola, planting more lettuce seeds, and weeding.

By the time I was done, I had just enough time to shower and get to my dental appointment. Not a lot of fun, of course, but it went well. Look Mom, no cavities!

Being in the dentist’s chair gave me time to think. I’ve been a bit stressed out of late, mostly due to worrying about my mom (she’s doing better, but the Mother’s Day trip back to the Land of Apples just proved “better” is relative. Mom is eighty. I worry. I can’t help it.) On Tuesday, Jeff had suggested a trip to the beach might do me good, but I had too much to do, I thought–and besides, Tuesday was cold. Today, on the other hand, was beautiful. While I certainly had a lot to do, I figure that one of the benefits of being self-employed is being able to play hookey and make it up later.

So I did.

Horseneck Beach in Westport, MA, is not my favorite beach. It’s rocky. It attracts a lot of college students from nearby UMass Dartmouth, and a lot of teenagers from nearby Fall River and New Bedford, so on a classic beach day, it can be packed and loud. Luckily, today was warm, but windy, so it wasn’t over-crowded.

And it was gorgeous. Just what my soul needed. I feel a bit physically tired, but mentally and spiritually refreshed.

Which is good, because I came home to a print proof for the re-release of Cat Scratch Fever as well as a book to revise, one to finish–and at two stories, possibly three, I’d like to get out for June 1.

I’m thrilled to announce that Little Kisses Press, an imprint of Soul’s Road Press, has released “Catalyst” by Sophie Mouette as a stand-alone ebook. “Catalyst” was the first Sophie Mouette collaboration between me and my dear friend Dayle Dermatis. This long short story/short novella, a lesbian erotic paranormal, has led to many more collaborations, many of which will be released or re-released by Little Kisses Press in the future. (Next up, unless plans change: Cat Scratch Fever, originally published by Black Lace in 2006.)

I’m delighted to announce that The Harder She Comes: Butch-Femme Erotica,  edited by DL King, won a gold medal for erotica in this year’s Independent Publisher Awards (IPPY).  This is the second year in a row that one of DL King’s books received this award–and I was honored to be in both titles.

The Harder She Comes is also a finalist in the lesbian erotica category for both the Golden Crown Literary Society Goldie Award and the prestigious Lambda Literary Awards. The Lambda Literary Awards are a particularly big deal, honoring serious literary luminaries who have made a major contribution to GBLT literature, as well as genre writers who are doing our best to make the world of books a little more inclusive and a lot more fun for all readers. (Or is that the other way around? Works either way!) What a thrill to have one of my stories in a nominated title.

Book Tunnel- photo by Petr Kratochvil. The book tunnel is the Prague library and book tunnel in Prague's library was created by Matej Kren in 1998. I want one!

Tomorrow I’m off to the New England Chapter of RWA (Romance Writers of America) annual conference. It’s no great travel adventure, just a hour drive up route 95 from my little home. I’ve been several times–it’s always a great event, and I come back replete with knowledge (for at least a few minutes–I love learning new things, part of the reason the Internet is dangerous for ) and social interaction with my fellow writers. I’m excited and curiously nervous. I keep changing my mind about what to wear, as if that matters. My promo materials are packed. I got a haircut today. And tomorrow I’m off to talk writing and books, learning about writing, meet new people, reacquaint myself with people I rarely see, and more than likely drink a bit too much. Oh, and sell books! Let’s not forget the book signing on Saturday. 3:30-5:30 PM at the Burlington, MA Marriott.I’ll not only be talking about books, and acquiring books, I’ll be selling books. Perhaps this is the source of my anxiety. I should have all my ebooks available, but I’m really not sure how one goes about “autographing” ebooks. I have postcards for some of the books, but not all of them. And now I’m panicking a little about that.

In any case, I’ll be back on Saturday night, with a lot of new freebie books to read, and, I hope, some words of wisdom to impart!

Picture by Petr Kratochvil, from PublicDomainPhotos.net. More information here: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=11604&picture=book-tunnel”>Book Tunnel</a> by Petr Kratoch

On the morning of March 28, I got a call that my mom was in the hospital. Luckily the situation wasn’t serious–she made the call herself, perfectly alert and calm–but she had fallen and broken her right thumb. With her hand immobilized, she was going to need help for a time, so off I went to the Land of (Frozen) Apples, where I spent nine days alternately fretting about Mom (was she really well enough to continue living on her own?), plotting stories in my head, and thinking about my garden. Mom and I talked gardens a lot during that week. I read some of her garden books and bounced ideas off her for the front flower garden we want to redo into a semi-orderly flower-and-herb bed instead of the chaotic mess it became in recent years.

And when the cold rain and sleet finally cleared, I took a ride out into the hills, where snow still lingered, and breathed. Just breathed in the open spaces and the sky and the hills and the farm fields, and came back refreshed to help Mom some more.

Mom is doing much better, so I headed back to Massachusetts over the weekend (actually, Jeff came and got me. We’d gone to New York together, but he’d headed home again once it was clear Mom was stabilized and just needed assistance with things until she figured out left-handed workarounds). At home, I discovered an exciting package from Miller Nurseries, containing one peach tree and one self-pollinating apricot tree, and one rhubarb.  Perfect timing, just as the weather finally turned springlike! So for the past few days, we’ve had a whirl of garden activity: digging, planting, revitalizing raised beds with new soil and compost, and then more planting. Jeff has been a saint. He actually took time off from work to help me by digging huge holes and moving soil around.

As of today, we have two baby trees and one rhubarb in place, beds suddenly full of blooms where a few days ago there were only buds, seedlings sprouting where a few days ago there was bare earth, and many seeds tucked into the ground. I’ll be heading back to Mom’s this weekend for a rather subdued 80th birthday celebration–dinner out will have to wait, since she doesn’t want to show off her left-handed eating skills to the world–but I’ll go knowing my early-season garden is well underway. Thank you, beloved Cat-Herder, for all your help!

The yard is still a mess, but we have fruit trees! The closer one is the peach.

Plant something: Trees! Rhubarb! Lettuce, mizuna, mustard greens, additional peas (as the peas planted on 3/25 show no signs of life yet), chard, and Chinese cabbage

Harvest something: Kale and microgreens

Preserve something: I’m sure I froze something recently but I can’t recall

Waste not: Composting, recycling, donating or passing on items instead of tossing them. Recycling at Mom’s, which goes counter to her habits.

Want not: Stocked up on spices and staples at the Mennonite store on the way home from Mom’s.

Eat the food: Many meals with freezer beef, local eggs, and on-hand staples. Making bread regularly.

Community food systems: Getting eggs from the Cat-Herder’s co-worker and giving veggies (kale, this week) in return as they become available. Starting seedlings for friends with less space.

Skill up!: Nothing new here.

You may wonder how I have enough kale to harvest and share this early in the spring. The answer is simple: some of last fall’s kale wintered over!

Survivor Kale: on the left is Red Russian, on the right Beedie's Camden, an heirloom variety from Maine (not my favorite, alas, but I like the hardiness)

Image courtesy of James Barker/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Religion and spirituality play major roles in my two paranormal romance series, Duals and Donovans: the Different, and Seasons of Sorania Cycle. The witch characters in the Duals and Donovans series pray to the Lord and Lady, the deities representing male and female energy, as part of their spells, and tend to be quite religious. Shapeshifting duals have a direct relationship with the divine, and especially their androgynous patron deity Trickster. One character, Akane (Foxes’ Den) is an avatar of Inari, a Japanese face of Trickster, sent to do Inari’s work on earthly shaking up stuffy order in productive (or at least amusing) ways, and Trickster and Trickster’s avatar Coyote play important roles in the forthcoming Cougar’s Courage. The characters in the Seasons of Sorania Cycle are, for the most part, extremely religious, which is understandable in this imaginary world: the gods and the spirit world play an active role in human lives, so it’s downright foolish not to believe. Adimir and Miryea are brought together thanks to divine intervention in Lady Sun Has Risen and act to bring about the will of the gods and defeat an enemy that has been deceiving humans into thinking it is a god in Threshing the Grain. In A Satyr for Midwinter, Kallios’s  dead lover and the gods themselves work to bring Kallios and Laeca together. Rain at Midsummer centers on a religious ritual that brings rain to a drought-stricken region. (It’s an erotic ritual; I created the world so I got to invent a religion that worked for my plot.)

Yet I have no idea what religious beliefs, if any, Nick and Selene, the hero and heroine of Knowing the Ropes, might have. Same with Drake and Jen in my current work in progress, another kinky contemporary called Out of Control (working title). I realized that gap just the other day, well into the draft of Out of Control, and found myself wondering why I never considered the spirituality of the characters.

Jen and Drake’s religion doesn’t have any obvious bearing on their story—it’s not part of their conflict or their growth as a couple. But considering how much I know about these characters, even if it doesn’t work its way into the book directly, it seems odd I never considered whether Drake is an atheist or a believer of some sort, whether Jen, who creates a Green Man and Spring Goddess sculpture in the book, is a neo-pagan or just drawn to seasonal imagery. I figure Selene in Knowing the Ropes is a Protestant by heritage, simply because she grew up on a grape farm in central New York; the little farm towns in that area have far more Protestant churches than Catholic ones, and other religions are distinctly in the minority. But it never occurred to me to ask myself whether she actively goes to church or prays when she’s troubled—despite the fact that her best friend is a church deacon.

And despite the fact that my own journey to self-acceptance as a sexual submissive involved spiritual searching and, in the end, an evolution in my beliefs. (That’s a topic for another post—or maybe a book.) Knowing the Ropes isn’t autobiographical, but my own experiences should have led me to wonder if Selene’s journey (or Nick’s, for that matter) might include a spiritual or religious dimension.

Religion and sexuality are contentious companions. Just check out any online discussion of marriage equality or reproductive rights. (Better yet, don’t. It’s better for your blood pressure.) Individuals’ religious beliefs, or lack thereof, are important facets of character—defining characteristics, for many people in the real world. But in a realistic book that focuses heavily on sex, especially sex that may push readers out of their comfort zone, I instinctively shy away from introducing religion or spirituality, other often uncomfortable topics. At least I do if it’s real world religion, which presses buttons for many people simply because it is important, and sometimes painful.

The spiritual dimension in my paranormal series, on the other hand, is not drawn from a familiar real-world religion. No one on earth grew up following the gods of Sorania because they’re wholly my invention. While the Donovan witches practice something similar to contemporary Celtic-path paganism, they’re clearly not living in the world we know. (The shapeshifters are a dead giveaway.) The magical element seems to make it all right to talk about the divine and spiritual growth, even in a book rated as “red hot,” and involving menages, BDSM, and sex magic.

In fact, most of the erotic romances I can think of that involve any spiritual or religious element are paranormals. (Joey W. Hill’s angel books are an obvious example.) Most contemporary romances with a spiritual element are sweet inspirationals without explicit sex, and usually no sex at all until a couple marries. I wonder if readers would be open to contemporary erotic romances with a spiritual or religious dimension, since spirituality and sex are both important, and frequently intertwined, aspects of real life.

Can anyone recommend romances that successfully tackle both eroticism and belief? Or would that juxtaposition take a story out of the friendly genre of romance and into the more challenging and uncomfortable realm of “serious” fiction?

Each year, the National Leather Association: International (NLA-I) recognizes excellence in writing about BDSM, D/s and fetish/kink. I’m thrilled to say that two anthologies in which my work appears are nominees!

The erotic anthology finalists are:

Bound by Lust: Romantic stories of submission and sensuality, ed. Shanna Germain (Cleis Press)

Cheeky Spanking Stories, ed. Rachel Kramer Bussel (Cleis Press)

Luscious: Stories of anal eroticism, ed. Alison Tyler (Cleis Press)

Whatever Lola Wants (and Other Wicked Tales), ed. Wes Royal (FDC Publication)

LIPSTICK LOVERS, ed. Elizabeth Coldwell (Xcite Books)

I’m proud to say I have stories in Bound by Lust and Cheeky Spanking Stories. We’re in great company, as I know Alison Tyler consistently rocks, Xcite’s books are always sexy and literate, and well, I don’t know Wes Royal’s work, but how could I not love a book called Whatever Lola Wants?

I ♥ watching. I have to admit that. Okay, so I’m talking about the people in my books. But still, I’m a bit of a voyeur at heart.

I tend to write quite a few peeking scenes in my book. A lot of my books! People are always peeking at each other. Seeing things. Using what they saw for sexual fodder.

There’s something wonderfully naughty about seeing something you shouldn’t see. It’s a good thing to make the heart race and the blood flow.

Once, when I lived in another state, I was walking down an alley and found a bunch of Polaroids up on a fence. They were dirty pictures. Pictures of people shot in the most intimate of moments. I have no idea who put them there. If the couple put them there, if he did—if she did. I don’t even know if it was done intentionally as a turn on or even in a malicious manner. I like to think it was a small act of exhibitionism on their part and I was their inadvertent voyeur.

Either way, it’s a moment I remember vividly. Seeing something I technically should not. I think most of us have witnessed things that maybe we shouldn’t. And probably, we can recall those things a bit better than most of the stuff it was okay for us to witness.

See, wonderfully naughty.

By the way, some of you might recognize that story of the Polaroids on a fence from one of my short stories, Picket Fences. That scenario has snuck into more than one of my stories and books. Because the naughty stuff sticks with you. It’s the naughty stuff—deeds, thoughts, glimpses—that linger in your mind.

Just ask my character Cameron…

From Beast in Me (book 2 of the Divination Falls trilogy) by Sommer Marsden

He was never going to sleep. Not unless he …

Cameron jumped up and moved quickly across the cool stone floor. He didn’t think it was possible to feel any more ridiculous, but here he was proving himself wrong. He slid the small dresser by the door across the doorway.

Yeah, that’s real stealthy, I’m sure.

It didn’t matter, though. There were no locks on the guest quarters and there was no way in the world he was going to have the custodian, or worse – Father Finn – walk in on him while he was tossing off.

‘Pervert,’ he mumbled. Cam swore he heard a dark, deep chuckle and he froze. But there was nothing to be heard but for a blonde anchorwoman chattering on about a local quilting bee for charity.

When he flopped back on the bed, he pushed a hand into his boxers and started with a long, easy stroke. It had been ages since he’d even done this, he realised. He was a sexless maniac prodded about life by lightning, he realised. His last “job” had been helping a family whose crops kept getting struck. It turned out there was a body on the property. A restless spirit that had been murdered years before the family had ever owned the farmland.

It made no sense helping people with lightning, and yet, it was what he did. The life he lived was a never-ending march of aiding farmers with rain and helping with unsettled energy. Energy was energy and he was a slave to the juice.

Cameron ran his thumb over the slick bit of precome on his tip. It felt good to be touched. Even by himself. His hips rose up before he realised they would, his body so eager for release that it revelled to even his own familiar hand.

Pressing his lips together, he set his mind to picturing that big man, that big body, that somehow elegant hand on that big cock. He could see the custodian, Trace if he remembered correctly, jerking off as clearly as if it were playing on a movie screen.

His eager mind changed the film to the man’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth while eyes he imagined to be just-before-the-lightning grey watched him with almost predatory glee. He’d suck that man’s cock until he wept, Cameron thought, and he felt a resounding tug as his heartbeat seemed to rattle around inside his bones, his gut, his balls.

He squeezed a bit harder, slid his hand a bit faster, and imagined those lips on his. It was a strong mouth, from what he’d seen, and he imagined those lips on his would be demanding and … spectacular.

A soft sound slipped out of him as he felt his body inch a bit closer to coming. He wanted to come right that instant, but it had been for ever so he also wanted to draw it out. Tough call.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, just like the custodian, to block out the intrusive ghost flicker of the TV, he put himself in his fantasy. Imagined himself being kissed, touched, manhandled, and then flipped. Cool, lubricated finger sliding inside him, flexing so that he opened – blossomed – for the man. The kiss of a silken cock tip. The first blissful push of flesh to flesh and the heavy, stretched pleasure of being slowly filled.

Cameron’s breath was almost suffocating in his lungs, the humid, substantial breath of lust and need. He was full of his urges and his wants, jittery with arousal and attraction. His tired mind supplied the image of big hands on his hips, yanking and grabbing possessively as he was fucked beyond any thought but yes. Yes, take me. Yes, fuck me. Yes.

Cameron came with a gasp, biting his tongue quickly between his teeth to make no more noise. He had to be silent. He couldn’t be heard.The secrecy added to the staggering pleasure and another shiver hit him as he emptied all the way. His semen sticky and warm on his hand. How long had it been? Too long, because it felt like it would never, ever end. And that was fine.

His senses returned, giving him the news of an upcoming peach festival and a shark spotted in a close by bay area. Then the voice came, a resonating baritone that seemed to come with an audible smile. ‘I take it that was good? Sleep well, visitor.’

Then silence. Cameron scrambled to a sitting position, his heart wedged firmly in the back of his throat. He knew that voice. The custodian. But there was no way he could know. No way he could have heard. Not through that thick mahogany door with the TV going and Cam working so, so hard to be silent. Right?

Blurb:

Weather worker Cameron Bale rolls into Divination Falls after being prompted by Spirit and Brother Lighting. He discovers that the small, hidden town full of shifters and magical types is suffering a series of unsettling events. There’s speculation from the town seers that he could be the answer they’ve been looking for. Cameron’s willing to try and help: he’s got nowhere to go and nothing to lose. His life is simply about loneliness and it turns out that Trace, a grumpy wolf with stunning eyes, knows just what that feels like. Cam finds himself wishing maybe they could be alone … together. Oh yeah, and battle whatever evil it is that still lurks in Divination Falls.

Buy Links:

US: http://www.amazon.com/Beast-Divination-Falls-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00BYFA1LS

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Beast-Divination-Falls-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00BYFA1LS

Sommer online:

Blog: http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com

Twitter: @sommer_marsden

Facebook: http://facebook.com/sommermarsden

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/sommer_marsden

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/sommermarsden

I’m very proud to announce my story, “Mine Like the Rest of You” appears in the new release Coming Together: Triumphantly. This book is a bit different from the usual run of sexy anthologies in which my work appears. It focuses on “reclaiming the body and sexuality after trauma,” including illness, accident, and assault. All proceeds from the anthology go to benefit the National Women’s Health Network, dedicated to promoting and protecting sexual health and productive autonomy.

So buy a sexy book and benefit a good cause. Triumphantly is available at Amazon and several other vendors.

My particular story deals with healing in the context of a lifestyle D/s relationship. (Act shocked. Sorry, not convincing!) BDSM and particularly D/s and master/slave relationships are sometimes depicted as sources of trauma, or results of trauma (see Fifty Shades of I Would Have Thrown It Into the Wood Stove but I’d Borrowed It) so I wanted to show how a healthy D/s relationship can foster healing. Kinky love is not magic–no relationship is–and a Dom is not a substitute for a therapist or any other professional resources a traumatized person might need to find their way toward healing. Like other forms of relationships, though, a healthy kinky relationship can provide a safe, supportive space for a person to recover their inner strength and re-explore parts of themselves they may have needed to close off for a while.

Sophie Mouette has been quiet for far too long now. Sophie Mouette is the pseudonym of Dayle Dermatis and myself when we co-author erotica and erotic romance, but of late, Sophie has taken a back burner to our individual projects and general life insanity that made it hard to coordinate collaborations.  But Sophie’s back! Plans are afoot for further collaborations…watch this space… and there’s even more exciting news.

Sophie has her own imprint now. I’d like to introduce you all to Little Kisses Press, an imprint of Soul’s Road Press, which publishes Dayle under her many pseudonyms. Here’s the official scoop, via Soul’s Road:

We here at Soul’s Road Press have an exciting announcement to make: We’re about to unveil our first imprint, Little Kisses Press!

Little Kisses Press will showcase the work of popular erotic romance and erotica author Sophie Mouette. She has quite a backstock of stories and a few novels as well, so we have a fun time ahead getting all of her work published! We’re delighted to have her as a part of our publishing venture.

First up will be “Catalyst,” a short paranormal lesbian erotica, followed by erotic novel Cat Scratch Fever (originally published by Black Lace Books in 2006). After that, probably more short fiction, so stay tuned!

Very excited that Sophie is back in action. Dayle and I have such a blast working together.

Read the rest of this entry »

I’m not much of a material girl. While once in a while I’ll get an urge to do some recreational shopping, it’s rare. Bookstores, yarn shops, and garden centers can always lure me in, of course, but department stores literally give me headaches–something about the lighting. I like pretty clothes and cute shoes, but I also wear my pretty things until they’re not so pretty, and then use them as writing or gardening togs. I adore jewelry, but often forget to wear anything except my wedding ring and the eternity knot choker the Cat-Herder gave me long before we were married–and I only remember those because I never take them off. My husband and I gave each other cookware for Christmas, and I’m seriously considering asking for a load of compost as a birthday gift.

But once in a while, some random object will get under my skin and I’ll yearn for it with all the lust a marketer could hope to inspire.

For years, I’ve wanted a pair of Wellies. Not just any rubber rain boots, but Wellies, those tough, durable, shiny British classics. Beloved of Paddington Bear and British gardeners and gentleman farmers, they called to me like Jimmy Choos or other shoes with staggering heels and equally staggering price tags call to fashionistas. But for some reason, I’ve never gotten a pair–and by “for some reason” I mean I’m frugal with a side order of cheap and don’t replace my rain boots until they start leaking. So generally I’m swimming through a spring rain storm to look for new boots and I’m stuck taking whatever they have in the local mall.

I wear rain boots as “mud boots” in the garden, and if you haven’t noticed by now, I spend a lot of time in my garden, starting early in the spring and ending late in the fall. Good boots are important. And I do like the boots to be visually appealing as well as comfortable and functional, because they leave the garden and go to town with me on rainy days. This spring I decided I’d start looking early, before the need for new boots became a crisis to be solved by buying some flimsy knock-off at Target.

Somehow, I’d missed the important memo that LL Bean now sells branded Wellies in a variety of colors. I don’t want to swear they’re the same boot as the classic Wellie, but they’re about three times as heavy as “fashion” rain boots, with much better soles that seem suitable for tramping through gardens and fields. Success! And LL Bean was having a sale when I stopped in, so my new Wellies were cheaper than the much flimsier knock-off rain boots I managed to destroy within a year–something about getting snagged  on the chicken wire fence around the vegetable garden, I suspect. (Must learn to use the gate!) I always figured I’d wind up with daffodil-yellow Wellies–so cheerful on a gray spring day–but how could I resist this adorable plaid? They even look cute as well as functional with my hideous gardening sweat pants.

I suspect my new Wellies will come in handy later this week. We got a few inches of snow this morning but it’s turned to rain. Wet and cold now and muddy soon–the perfect weather for boots from Maine via England.

Belatedly, it’s time for another Independence Days update. We’ve had another substantial snow since the first update (20 inches!). It all melted within 48 hours, leaving a big, muddy mess. It’s only recently gotten dry enough to play in the dirt again–and more snow is on the way. But it’s almost 7 PM and it’s still light out. True spring is coming. It feels so good to spend time outside, even if it’s still quite chilly, getting my hands into the dirt.

Plant something: Serrano chiles and more sprouting peas inside; arugula, two types of spinach, and mustard greens outside. I’ve prepared the bed for peas, but did not have a chance to plant them.

Harvest something: Pea sprouts and microgreens for salad.

Preserve something: Chicken stock

Waste not: Composting, recycling, donating or passing on items instead of tossing them. Only unusual thing was collecting coffee grounds from several local Starbucks to add to the compost.

Want not: Purchased some new garden tools at a reasonable price, and found a source for reasonably priced organic fertilizer. I’d love to make my garden grow using compost alone, but without livestock to make their contribution to the cause, we sometimes need a little boost.

Eat the food: Many meals with freezer beef, local eggs, and on-hand staples. Making bread regularly.

Community food systems: Getting eggs from the Cat-Herder’s co-worker. Starting seedlings for friends with less space. Will be bartering veggies as partial payment for yoga classes as the garden starts to produce.

Skill up!: I’ve been lazy in this area where gardening and sustainable living skills are concerned, though I’m working on my marketing/social media skills.