I had been anticipating (dreading) my radio interview for weeks. It took at least a month to schedule, so while I was working toward making it happen, I was just fine that it wasn’t. Then suddenly, in the last two weeks of December, it was a go. Careful what you wish for.

On December 19th, Mercedes Fleming, the DJ, came down with a bug, so we postponed it to the day after Christmas. There was, though, a possibility of snow in Georgetown, a chance of yet another delay. Hooray! 

The importance of a great partner is that they hold you accountable, even if they don’t really show their hand. As I made excuses the day before about not making it into Georgetown if it snowed, Rick didn’t even let on that he knew I would welcome another delay. Instead, being a man who has grown up in the snow, he just responded, “not a problem, honey, I can get you there.”

Really? Are you sure? Okay… I guess. God bless this man I’m lucky enough to be married to.

As Sunday morning arrived, I awoke stripped of any final excuses. Since I didn’t have to be there until noon, I had time to join Amy for coffee and her fantastic chocolate bread for breakfast. We cuddled on the couch watching The Unforgivable with Sandra Bullock, a compelling enough movie to keep my mind off the interview. Perfect!

At 10, with no extra time to think, I threw myself together, wearing my favorite sweater and good luck ring, jeans and boots, layers as it would be cold. I grabbed a few books, and out the door we went. As we neared Georgetown, the skies darkened, snow was on the way. A little late, but thanks for the effort.

I jest— in truth, at this point, I welcomed the snow just because I love snow; it’s one of my top favorite experiences. So if it couldn’t save me from this experience, it would help make it that much more special.

I arrived on time at the sweet little radio station in Georgetown. And Mercedes was a doll, so welcoming and calming. Turns out she’s a kindergarten teacher, which for me, was a plus. She calmed me as she began to educate me on what to expect, how we would proceed, etc. 

As we began the interview, my voice quivered a bit, but I found my footing with each minute and actually began to enjoy the experience. About midway, I was having fun, anticipating the next segment that I would be included in. The music in between was lovely, chatting with Mercedes was enchanting, and telling the people listening about my book made me feel as if I was sprouting baby wings that would one day carry me where I needed to go.

The only thing I hadn’t anticipated was being asked to read a segment from my book. I chose quickly what chapter to read as I only had a song or two to decide. I chose Opening Doors. I thought it was a good chapter as it set the tone for the story. The few things I didn’t anticipate in that quick decision was that the last page was an emotional one for me and the first page had a swear word in it. Oops. Not a disaster in either instance; I saw Mercedes’s eyes avert as I said, “What the hell,” but I kept my train on the track and didn’t look back. In those next moments, I silently thanked Dennis, my editor, for helping me keep any thoughts like these to a minimum because I knew there wouldn’t be any more to come, at least not in this chapter.

About midway, the snow was beginning to color the streets outside. I was settling down, which meant I was starting to take in the moment. I was doing my first radio broadcast… about my published book… and it was snowing outside. I would estimate that I had to fight back happy tears at least five times in that hour and a half. I kept telling myself that I would have time to cry about this fantastic gift later. And thank goodness, I was able to concentrate and recover each time.

As we were nearing the end, I realized that one of the last pages I had selected to read contained a sentence about my mom that made me choke up even reading it silently to myself. Luckily I only had moments to consider that reality.

And I was right; I couldn’t read it on the air without choking up. But I felt no apologies in the end. Nothing wrong with emotion, one of my mottos. 

I left the station on a high. The next day I woke up to that snowstorm, more snow than we’ve ever had here. I considered it a gift from my angels up above congratulating me. 

As I wrote this post sitting at my desk looking at a striking pink sunset layered in blues, contrasting with the bright white snow still covering the ground, I understood that, as I suspected, my greatest gifts this holiday season were not wrapped in paper and bows.

Thank you to my family, which includes many who are not blood-related… those souls who nurture and feed me on this journey, who carry me spiritually and receive me whether I fall or triumph. In the end, the blessing is the same, connection, a reason for being… love.

It’s only been one week since I last posted, a week which I anticipated would not hold much to talk about. I was wrong. I also mentioned in my last post that some of our most precious gifts don’t arrive wrapped in paper and bows. How right I was about that.

Our plans this season were quiet in nature, Amy heading up for Christmas, and Sammie and Scott coming this week. I was looking forward to snuggling in close around the fire, good food, and a few good Netflix originals in the mix. Oh, and the possibility of snow! 

My first surprise came Thursday evening while watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I had minestrone soup on the stove simmering as I did last-minute decorating around the living room, a little late this year. I went to the wine cabinet to open a bottle of wine for dinner and discovered a wine label in our pantry I recognized, but… wait, what the heck? 

Rick had created new wine bottle labels, peeled the existing labels off a few bottles, and replaced them with… my book cover. Oh my gosh, I was laughing and crying all at once. The cutest dang thing ever! I love it so much I think we need to serve Lessons of a Wayward Yogini table wine going forward into 2022! 

And our wonderful neighbor Glenn had just given us the most beautiful handmade (by him) wooden wine bottle/glass holder for Christmas. What a lovely start to Christmas.

The next day, I looked through my recipe book for scalloped potatoes recipe ideas. I have a few recipes of my mother’s that she actually went to the trouble to type out years ago, one of which is scalloped potatoes. I’ve probably had this in my book for 40 years and never really looked at it, not a big fan of scalloped potatoes.

For the second time in two days, I laughed and cried all at once. Rick’s questioning eyes as he entered the room softened as he read the card, after which he joined in my amusement. 

This is how I cook. “Oh yeah, I forgot the…” you can fill in the blank on almost any recipe. Luckily for my family, I’ve been at this long enough to usually recover from my oversights.

The experience left me feeling like my mom had sent me a sweet Christmas card reminding me that I am my mother’s girl.

I have a great deal more to share about my radio interview, so stay tuned next week for that.

Rounding the corner toward Christmas, anticipating family coming to visit, and connecting virtually with those who can’t be here, I am thinking about how much I have to be grateful for. Yes, I published my first book, which makes me feel blessed. But as I’ve said many times, without loved ones to share the accomplishment, the experience would lose much.

Update: my interview scheduled for the 19th on KFOK was canceled due to illness. We are hoping for next Sunday, the 26th, at noon, but there is a snow forecast in Georgetown, so that date may also cancel. I will post any changes that morning on FB @waywardyogini. If weather permits, you can listen to the interview streaming live on their website, KFOK.org. 

Like any dream, our expectations differ dramatically from reality. This week exceeded all expectations, but not for the reasons I might have anticipated. Our friends Janet and Lalo accompanied us on a quick trip to Lake Tahoe. When they arrived, they had a fantastic surprise for me. I’ve spoken before about Lalo’s beautiful mosaic work. With Janet’s help, they created a mosaic of my little yogini. It is simply gorgeous in person; the colors are perfect. If I didn’t already love the little symbol, I would have fallen in love with her all over again. We hadn’t even been together five minutes, and I was crying tears of gratitude.

My tears continued that evening when they shared with me what they thought of the book. I was humbled by their kind words. 

The waterworks have continued each day since, for one reason or another. My friends from far and near, old and new, have been sending along the nicest of comments about the book. I have to tell you, those comments mean far more than any dollars. They settle into my soul and warm me from the inside out. 

This experience of hearing from others about my book feels much like those days of positive bombardment. I replay a comment over and over until the next one comes along, and the cycle begins anew. I’ve genuinely never experienced anything quite like this, and I’m beyond grateful. This dream has lived up to every minute I fantasized about it, regardless of whether I ever sell another book.

On Friday, when we returned home, we readied for the book signing on Saturday at the Rosa-Lucca wine tasting room in Cool. Janet and Lalo stayed on for the festivities! I thought maybe the winery would attract a good-sized crowd, especially since they were having a pet adoption. And they did draw a crowd… for the puppies! 

I was seated behind them, and most people never left the puppies. Can you blame them? I need to learn from these events; my spot should not be next to gorgeous jewelry or puppies! 

Joking aside, the evening turned out to be something far different than I anticipated, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. 

As I was setting up, I noticed two people standing to my left. They announced they were there for the book signing. 

Were my eyes deceiving me? It looked like my old friend, Ray, and Shelley, his beautiful wife. I hadn’t seen Ray in probably fifteen years.

Turns out my eyes weren’t playing tricks. They had traveled from Redding, a three-hour drive. Like I said a few weeks back, friends are something else. 

Having no takers for the book signing that evening turned out perfectly. The six of us sat around the fire pit, sharing stories, putting color to the years we’d been apart. I choked back tears of gratitude numerous times throughout the night. I was surrounded by five beloved people, as well as the wonderful staff at Rosa-Lucca, who we indeed enjoyed. It couldn’t have been a lovelier night.

I’m learning one thing for sure, not to predict nor set rigid intentions and no expectations. It’s far more fun to let the universe paint my canvas.

Next Sunday is the KFOK radio interview. Wish me luck.

As I write this, I’m settling into the comforts of home after the third day of promoting my book, but my first day doing it solo. Rick had a fire burning in the fireplace to welcome me home, and he’s making a veggie chili as I write this blog post which smells like heaven. How did I get this lucky? 

My day went better than I anticipated. But I have to admit, this selling yourself is not all that comfortable, at least not for me. I had two events planned for the day, selling my book at the Christmas Fair put on by the Georgetown Library from 11:00-2:00, followed by a book signing afternoon at the Georgetown Main Street Mercantile beginning at 3:00. Today was Georgetown’s tree lighting/parade, which we have yet to attend. 

As I readied this morning, Rick tended to me like I was his child going off on her first day at school, ensuring I had everything I needed. Not that I can be a bit scattered… but I can be a bit scattered, like when I arrived at the airport with my kids on our way to Cozumel without any passports. The passports were at home. No passports, no travel, but not the end of the story.

We had a few angels on our side. The airport staff exchanged my tickets at no charge for the next day. The limo driver that had taken us to the airport and witnessed the debacle also drove us back home. He volunteered to come early the next day to transport us back to the airport. He felt like an old friend the following morning when he arrived on time. The three of us crawled into his car, so happy to finally be heading out only a day behind our friends. 

I also thoroughly enjoyed meeting new people from our little town of Cool and many of the residents of Georgetown.

As I headed over to the Mercantile after the library, I once again felt the tears rising, but I had no doubt they were tears of joy this time. I had spent a wonderful morning, and as I came around the corner, I saw the workers getting ready to raise the holiday tree. Christmas music echoed from somewhere nearby. The street was blocked, and there were people everywhere working on the project, tree companies, firemen, etc. This is a significant effort every year in Georgetown.

Apparently, the tree is cut down up the road from Georgetown. Looking at the 50+foot tree lying in the middle of Main Street, I was instantly mesmerized by the whole process. I watched as long as I could and then followed along throughout the day. The workers have to decorate the tree while still lying on the ground. And then they raise it, putting the trunk into a manhole in the street. It’s quite the process. Once they have it standing, the lighting crew comes in with the boom truck. At dusk, they light the tree, and a parade follows. 

Sitting out in front of the Mercantile selling my books was equally as enjoyable as the morning had been. Georgetown is one of those towns where everyone knows one another. I felt a tinge of envy, wishing I was one of them. I wrote a chapter in my book about belonging, and today I took from that page. Every journey begins with those first steps, and today I set my baby footprint down in the town. The next time I return, I at least won’t be a stranger.

As the sun was setting, the temperature dropping, and the town getting ready for the parade, I closed up shop. I was tempted to stay and watch the parade, and I actually felt a little bit bad about leaving just before it was going to start. But truth be known, I didn’t want to watch the parade without Rick. And after a long day, I just wanted to go home.

As I drove down 193, the crimson sunset on the horizon was beckoning me home. A star/likely a planet, was shining brightly on my left. For the third time today, my tears arrived, but this time I welcomed them. It had been a lovely day, the kind of day I dreamed it might feel like being an author, definitely worth a few tears of joy.

So grateful to the people of Georgetown for their hospitality. I look forward to attending next year’s tree lighting/parade with Rick, where I hope to recognize a few of the people I met today. Many thanks to Sharia from Georgetown Library and Judy from Main Street Mercantile for including me on this special day.

Finally, my post about friends has arrived, a little delayed. 

I’ve talked at length about my family and how important their support has been to me. I likely would never have accomplished this goal without them.

But friends are not those bound by blood. They are souls who choose you at any given moment in your life or all the moments of your life. It’s a lovely distinction. I’ve mentioned before that friends took on a special place in my heart early on in life, actually beginning at age 3, likely having to do with the fact that I was an only child.

I’ve had my fair share of beautiful holidays, and I’ve had a few heartbreakers.  As enjoyable as the best of them have been, it’s likely the worst of times that have left me appreciating each new holiday season with childlike anticipation. At 66, I understand that it’s the weaving of the individual threads that creates the beauty of any fabric. If every strand was perfect, the garment might seem uninteresting or rather dull. Such is life.

I will welcome Thanksgiving day with excitement for the smells emanating from our kitchen, the busyness that will descend upon our typically quiet home as family arrives. Turkey, gravy, Julie’s sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, to name a few of my favorites, soon to adorn the table, such blessings. 

And this year I have something extraordinary to be grateful for, the achievement of my book. I will be sending enormous gratitude to the heavens.

But I also understand that I likely will have a few more holiday seasons that are less than optimal. Luckily at 66 years old, so many beloved people and memories are now a part of my holiday spirit. They drape my shoulders with warmth and comfort that will stay with me forever. 

Wishing my readers a most joyous Thanksgiving, filled with gratitude for all of life’s moments.

(Early morning dew on the grapes and fog in the hills as we arrived at the vineyard for the fair.)

The fair was definitely a mix for me, uncomfortable moments coupled with gratifying experiences connecting with neighbors from our association that I’ve never met, as well as people from as far away as Davis. 

I attended the fair with my dear friend Lynette who sells gorgeous jewelry at a modest price. You can find her @Mjewelryus on Instagram, or Facebook and visit her shop here. We were fortunate enough to land booths next to each other. 

I have written about Lynette before, a yoga instructor living in Cool, who I became friends with a few years ago; I subbed a few yoga classes for her. She also was one of the proofreaders for my book. Many thanks, Lynette. But if anyone finds errors, we’ll have to blame her. I’m moving on. 

And just a few minutes later, Rick arrived. He’s got such a calming nature. Plus, he’s been in the hardware business his whole life, so he’s used to selling and talking to people. He eased in next to me, and for the rest of the weekend, he greeted people like it was his book. Once he snagged them in, I could take over and talk about the book. I learned a lot this weekend about selling and also about myself. Always something new to learn.

Sunday was much more comfortable from the get-go, and I enjoyed many conversations with people throughout the day. I had a young couple talk to me early on and then leave without buying a book. About an hour later, the husband (if they were married) came walking back to my booth. I looked at him in wonder, why are you back? He wanted to buy the book! I was so blown away that I couldn’t make my new little square work right. I finally had to ask him to Venmo me. Hilarious, my client had to help me figure out how he was going to pay me. Thankfully he was very kind. We laughed about home yoga since Covid and our cats making yoga a bit interesting. We had much in common.

As we talked, she began to share her story. She had lost many of her loved ones, her son was critically ill, and she was now facing a life-threatening illness herself. I needed to take a yogini breath to formulate my response. 

Before she left, we shared a moment, that connection that I believe is what life is all about. It lasted maybe two to three seconds, but it left me beyond grateful that I had written my little book and attended a local fair. Whether or not she likes my book or hates it once she has read it, is beside the point; my book is what brought us together. 

Gosh, one weekend in, so many blessings, taking flight… 

The first printed copy of my book arrived today! This post won’t go live until next week, as I always write ahead to allow Janine from Build & Balance time to put together her efforts and coordinate the media posts. 

Just a short side note (really, already?) What can I say? I’m pretty hyped. My feet haven’t touched the ground since Monday morning.

I prepared the post on FB Monday afternoon because it was a surprise that the book was live. It was late in the day, and I thought I could remember the little I knew to make a quick announcement, and then I would let Janine take over Tuesday. Let’s just say this, I made a sage decision deciding to hire Build & Balance a few months back. I’m using one of my editor Dennis’s favorite acronyms, SMH, at what I don’t seem to retain about social media.

On to bigger and better things, the last few days, as you might imagine, have been a little surreal. I haven’t slept all that great, not in a bad way, but I just wake up with a million thoughts. And receiving my first copy of the book today was monumental. 

I awoke this morning somewhat refreshed to await the arrival of the book. And many thanks to Amazon, it arrived as scheduled, with no significant issues that I could detect with a cursory examination.

Rick took the picture of me holding the book. We sent it to our loved ones. I stared at my book curiously, examining every detail of the cover and leafing through the pages, reconnecting with the photos I had selected to be included.

I set it down on my dining room table. I left it be and went about my day. As I would pass back by, I’d lift an eyebrow and tilt my head… is that really you, little book? I moved it around the house, from one room to another, getting used to this creation of my making, seeing it from all angles in all rooms of the house. Tonight as I write at my desk, it’s sitting by my side like any great companion. We seem to have bonded quickly. 

I will be posting about friends finally next week, a bit delayed due to the big news.

(Photo above: Halloween in Montara, Amy Wilk, Sara Freitas, me and Peter Jeute.)

I had another post all ready written for this Thursday. I thought I was still about a week out from the book being published. Surprise! My editor texted me first thing this morning, “You’re live!” 

“WHAT?” I was still wiping the sleep from my eyes after binge-watching Halloween flicks all day yesterday on TCM. For those who don’t know, Halloween is high on my list of faves. I used to live on the Halloween destination block in Montara, California. People came from miles around to visit the witch’s house at the end of our block, about five houses down. The first year we lived there, we had been warned about the number of people who visit the area on Halloween.

But nonetheless, I was shocked when I opened my door to the first trick-or-treaters; the street sounded like a shopping mall at Christmas. I was thrilled. I had landed right where I needed to be for a few years. 

I’m a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan; I love all of his movies, especially The Birds. We began collecting blackbirds, and every year, we added more, a little like the birds collecting in Bodega Bay as the movie progresses. By the time we left Montara, we had enough blackbirds to line our gutters, litter our lawn, etc. We played the soundtrack from the movie at our doorstep, and I dressed as Melanie Daniels with a bird in my hair and blood on my face. 

Sadly, we now live in an area with no trick-or-treaters, but I still put my birds out. I also put them all around my fireplace and the front door to mimic Alfred’s movie. This is the first year my birds didn’t make it out because I was busy finishing up book projects.