Cathy McDavid

Cathy McDavid has been penning Westerns for Harlequin since 2005. With over 55 titles in print and 1.6 million-plus books sold, Cathy is also a member of the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s Honor Roll. This “almost” Arizona native and mother of grown twins is married to her own real-life sweetheart. After leaving the corporate world seven years ago, she now spends her days penning stories about good looking cowboys riding the range, busting broncs, and sweeping gals off their feet — oops, no. Make that winning the hearts of feisty, independent women who give the cowboys a run for their money. It a tough job, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice.

Buckboard Wagon Seat Ideas and Giveaway

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Last month I started a home redecorating/downsizing project that turned out to be much more work than I anticipated. Yeah, go figure, right? We switched four rooms around, which wound up giving us a much more functional TV den and an extra sleeping nook for when company visits over the holidays. I also found a place for those many things of my late mother’s I can’t seem to part with. While I have lots of small stuff left to do, like hanging pictures and finding a place for knick-knacks, I’m approaching the finish line. Whew!

One of the biggest tasks I took on was reorganizing and clearing out the closets. What a chore! I tell you, I don’t want to do that again for a long, long time. I wound up making two trips to the local Goodwill Donation Drop-Off and scheduled one special bulk trash pickup.

I decided to also use this opportunity to freshen up some of my décor. Nothing like giving your rooms a new look to lift your spirits. Along those lines, we decided to reupholster the couch and get an old table my husband inherited from his grandfather refinished. Problem is, I have this one antique buckboard wagon seat I’m not sure what to do with. It had been sitting in an unused corner of what is now the sleeping nook, so I need to give it a new purpose. To that end, I got online looking for inspiration. I think some of the ideas I came across are really cute. The questions now are 1) is what I want doable, and 2) how to accomplish it?

As you can imagine, the most popular idea is a bench. Of these three ideas, the one with cushions appeals to me the most. I think some colorful pillows would be cute. But where to put the bench?

This one where the wagon seat is turned into a painting is very cool. However, I have no artistic talent, and I don’t know anyone who does and could take on a project like this.

These last two are probably my favorites. I’m thinking of combing the two of them: putting the wagon outside my front door and staging it with an outdoor plant, a birdhouse, a weathervane, and other country decorative items. I think that might be very charming and original.

What about you? What would you do with my buckboard wagon seat if you were me? Drop a comment below, and I’ll enter you in a random drawing for a giveaway that includes two of my backlist books and some author bling, including a cowboy coffee cup and Starbucks gift card. Even if you don’t have an idea about my buckboard wagon seat, just say hi, and I’ll enter your name.

 

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Happy National Daughters Day – Celebrate with Me

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Today is National Daughters Day, and I’m inviting everyone to celebrate with me by either posting a picture of you and your daughter(s) or telling me about her/them. No daughter? Then share something about you and your mother because you’re a daughter and need to be celebrated, too! Or even someone you think of as a daughter.

According to the National Day Calendar website, National Daughter’s Day reminds us of the young women and girls in our lives. Parade says: “National Daughters Day is a great way to celebrate the joy a girl brings to her family, as well as affirm and encourage her—reminding your little girl (even if she’s an adult now) that she is strong, capable, intelligent and so very loved.” The Courier Journal reports the United States adopted the day in recent years to honor the mother-daughter bond.

All great reasons to take a moment today and tell your daughter (or mother) what they mean to you.

Here are some pictures of my beautiful daughter and me having a blast on a Mexican cruise we took a couple of years ago. She is the light of my life and the song in my heart.

 

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Get Your Kicks on Route 66 – AZ Style

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I’m sure some of us here remember the song that line is from or the TV show from the 1960s of the same name. Well, the longest remaining stretch of that famous (or perhaps infamous) route John Stienbeck once called the “Mother Road” can be found in my home state of Arizona. There are fascinating and entertaining stops along the way for those who like viewing impressive scenery while driving a piece of living history. One of my favorite places to visit is a former mining town located northwest of Lake Havasu in the Black Mountains called Oatman.

Beginning as a small mining camp in the early 1860s when two prospectors struck it rich by finding $2 million in gold. Over the years, Oatman’s population waxed and waned as gold petered out only to be rediscovered. The town was named after Olive Oatman who was abducted by Indians as a young girl and later adopted by the Mohaves. During her years in captivity, and prior to her eventual release at Fort Yuma in 1856, her face was tattooed in the tradition of the Mohave people. Her story became well known, being chronicled in newspapers and books. In addition to having the town named after her and gaining national recognition, Olive was also the inspiration for the character Eva on the television show Hell on Wheels.

The last “gold rush” in Oatman was around 1915 and ended a few years later. These days, Oatman is a popular stop on Route 66 for tourists and adventure seekers and boasts an authentic western atmosphere with its saloons, mining tours, wooden boardwalks, tourist shops, old-timey photographers, and staged shootouts. The  Oatman hotel on the main drag includes a second floor museum which includes the Clark Gable/Carole Lombard honeymoon suite where the couple stayed after their Kingman wedding in 1939. People pinning one-dollar bills on the hotel’s saloon walls is a tradition that has continued for decades.

However, one of Oatman’s biggest claims to fame is the wild burros that have free roaming rights in the town and surrounding desert. These cute little critters are direct descendants of the donkeys used by the original miners in the late 1800s to prospect and pull ore carts. Over the years, the donkeys have become used to tourists and very friendly, thanks to “burro chow” which used to be sold at local shops until the practice was discouraged by the Bureau of Land Management. So far, this reduction in treats hasn’t stopped the burros from coming to Oatman on a daily basis. And, really, they are a big tourist draw, contributing to the town’s economy.

So, if you find yourself traveling Route 66 and looking for a great place to stop for a great western-themed day trip, check out Oatman, Arizona. And when you do, give the burros a scratch between the ears for m

The Old West Time-Life Books

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When I was a child of about 12-years-old, my mother subscribed to a then popular historical, science, and cultural book club put out by Time-Life Magazines. There were series such as Voyage Through the Universe and Lost Civilizations. But the one we owned was by far one of the most popular: The Old West.

The books were beautiful constructed and truly collectable. Bound in imitation leather and tooled to resemble saddles or belts, replica authentic artwork adorned the covers. The books – 26 in all – were filled with old photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, drawings, painting, anecdotes, and stories. These truly beautiful books brought history to life for me and helped fueled my love of all things Western.

When my own children were young, my mother gifted me with the books, and I proudly displayed them for years in my living room. When I began writing western historical romances, I used the books for research and “borrowed” many story ideas and plot elements from real life incidents. It’s true what they say about true life being better than fiction. Some of my favorite books were, of course, The Cowboys, The Forty-Niners and The Miners (several of my western historicals take place in mining communities), The Spanish West (because I live in Arizona), The Canadians (my father’s family originally came over from France and settled in northeastern Canada and New England), and The Women – I still marvel at their courage and determination.

My favorite book of all, perhaps, is The Pioneers. From the time I was a very little girl, my mother and grandmother would tell me stories of my maternal family, who came over on the Mayflower. They would often speak about John Bidwell, a relative from New York who, as a young man, was lured by the call of the West in the days when people were crossing the country in droves. According to the stories, John Bidwell did well for himself in California, becoming a prominent and wealthy landowner who eventually served in the California Senate and House of Representative. All this when he arrived with but a few dollars in his pocket. Well, the stories my mother and grandmother told were true. John Bidwell appears in The Pioneers, and quite a few pages are dedicated to him and his contribution.

 

I can’t say I read all the books or even one of them from cover to cover. There was just too much information. But I’ve read something from every one of the books and studied at the pictures. Sadly, some years ago, I lost the books through a series of unforeseen events. These things happen. But I often thought about the books and wished I still had them. Well, thanks to the powers of Ebay and $99, I now do. I was recently able to buy a complete set of the books in pristine condition, and they are once again being proudly displayed on my living room bookcase. And while not the books my late mother gave me, they nonetheless warm my heart when I look at them and run my fingers over the imitation tooled leather covers ?

Dog Companions Throughout Time

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Most people acquainted with me know that I’m an animal lover. And that love goes beyond dogs and cats and, of course, horses. Besides fish and hamsters and even a hermit crab once, my many pets over the years have included chickens, ducks, bunnies, goats, calves, and a pot-bellied pig.

But dogs still remain my number one, and the only time I was without a dog sharing my home was when I was away at college. Most of my canine companions were typical ranch dogs. Border collies (too many to count), Australian Cattle dogs (too many to count), and sporting breeds like retrievers and spaniels. Now, I know that we’ve talked about pets in the old west before here at P&P, but I’m going to focus just on dogs and go a little further back in time. Specifically, to the beginning.

I’ve heard that early humans and dogs first bonded sometime during the Palaeolithic or, as it’s more commonly called, the stone age. As both humans and dogs were hunters, perhaps somewhere along the way, they realized if they teamed up, they might enjoy more success in bringing down prey. And then affection grew. I mean, stone age puppies were probably pretty cute, right?

I also imagine as mankind developed, moving away from hunting and gathering and toward agriculture (raising crops and domesticated animals), the jobs of their dog companions changed accordingly. Humans used dogs’ natural instincts to guard and protect their crops and livestock from the threat of predators. Those dogs showing superior intelligence and a tendency to herd were trained to assist modern farmers with controlling and relocating their cattle, sheep, and goats. In the United States, as people moved westward in the 18th and 19th centuries, they took their four-legged companions with them and before long, dogs were mainstays on ranches, farms, and cattle drives.

I suspect the lives of dogs in the old west weren’t easy. No prepackaged, nutrition rich kibble from a bag or hearty stew from a can. No regular veterinarian care and vaccines against rabies. No comfy raised pet beds or special shoes to protect their feet from the rough ground. Old west dogs likely had to sleep outside regardless of the weather and eat scraps­—if they were lucky.

But it seems from old pictures and written accounts that dogs were valued and loved as much back then as they are today. I’m pretty sure if I lived during the old west, I’d have owned a dog just like today. And I probably would have had my picture taken with them, too.

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Hometown Hoedown – Cathy McDavid (April 30)

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I moved to Scottsdale, Arizona when I was thirteen years old. And while I’ve lived here ever since and consider it my home, I was born and raised in Connecticut. Our house was in Scantic—a small community near East Windsor with not much more than a church, a cemetery, historical society, State Park on the Scantic River, along with several home-run businesses like a construction company, art studio, and auto repair. The only new additions since I was a child are a few Airbnbs and some more houses. Otherwise, it’s pretty much the same picture-perfect heart of Colonial New England all these decades later.

Just to give you an idea of what old and quaint Scantic was and continues to be, our house was built fifteen years post the end of the civil war. The original property consisted of many, many acres with the main crop being tobacco—specifically a broad leaf variety used for cigars. Some of you may have heard of the book by Mildred Savage called “Parish” which was made into a 1961 movie of the same name starring Troy Donahue, Connie Stevens, Claudette Colbert, and Karl Malden, among others. Much of the movie was filmed in East Windsor and featured vivid scenes of shaded tobacco fields. Of course, the tobacco industry has died off since then, but there were still some fields when I was a child and one of the original tobacco drying barns on our property remained standing, although it was in great disrepair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was able to return for a visit about a year-and-a-half ago. Both my parents are buried there And while it’s far from where I live now, I honored their wishes as they were so happy during the time we lived there. It seemed only fitting they are resting in the cemetery, not far from the graves of Colonial settlers who lived in Scantic during the 1700s.

When I visited, I brought with me and donated a collection of painted primitive art that was done by a friend of my mother’s, Jean Dewey, to the historical society. The scenes on the items are from Scantic and depict the idyllic life from then and now. Small tidbit. Jean Dewey’s adorable son Christopher was in my class at school, and I had a terrible crush on him. In the third grade, he gave me a kiss on my cheek, and after promising not to tell anyone, I proceeded to blab to every girl in my class the following day.

One last note of interest. Scantic was so small, we didn’t have a school and were bussed to Broad Book, the next town over. While considerably larger, Broad Brook is still as charming as ever, and when I visited recently, I was delighted to find that some of the original buildings, like the opera house and general store, were much like they were in my youth.

Thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me and visiting my hometown. Tell me something memorable about where you grew up and if you ever return for a visit.

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Choosing the Perfect Name for Your Horse

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I’ve owned horses most of my life, from the time I was a preteen until a few years ago (we won’t mention how many decades there are in between). The very first horse I called my own was a bay gelding named Mac. That was it. Just Mac. He wasn’t particularly beautiful, but he was gentle and well-behaved. By the time I turned fourteen, I was ready for a more advanced horse, and we acquired Torno – short for Tornado. Now, he was a beauty. A striking black, high-stepping Saddlebred who sailed over fences. In college, I switched from English riding to Western and Baldy was my horse of choice. She was pie-bald mare with an entirely white face and pale blue eyes.

In all three cases, my horse came with an established name, and it seemed to fit them and their characteristics. Not that I would have changed it. As a youngster, I once read in book that changing a horse’s name was bad luck, and I believed it. Over the years, my husband and I came to own many dozens of horses and mules—some of them with silly or just plain awful names. Still, I wouldn’t change them. Instead, I’d come up with a tolerable, if not cute, nickname. A few of the more memorable ones were a pony named Tinkle and an older white swayback called Dumpy. I couldn’t bring myself to call them by those terrible monikers, so I dubbed them Tinker Bell and Dimples. I figured the nicknames were close enough to not rain any bad luck down on us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was also tasked with the job of naming the many babies we had and any nameless horse or mule that came to us. One of my favorites was a baby mule that we had after several years of trying and much money invested. The moment I saw him at a few hours old, I pronounced him Dollar, which made perfect sense. Eighteen months later, his full sister Penny was born. I mean, seriously, what else could I call her? A dun mare we fostered produced a handsome male foal that looked just like her, so I called him Son of a Dun, Sonny for short.

Not all the names I picked were humorous, although I admit I often leaned that way. Neither were all the names clever and original. We had our share of classics like Lady and Fancy and Patches. I named my favorite horse of all time Tiger because he was born in the year of the tiger. What mattered most is that somehow the names all came to fit the horse or mule.

Oh, and this doesn’t take into account all the names of fictional horses and bulls and even dogs that I had to come up with for books. I once had a fierce bucking bull called Orange Crush and most recently a diminutive mule I gave the name of Short Stack.

Just for fun, tell me, what would you name this silly fellow? Who knows? I just might use him and your suggestion in a future book ?

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The Curious and Useful Broom Corn Plant – and a giveaway

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Have you ever played that game: what is your state (or town) famous for? I met someone recently from a small town in Colorado. He told me that where he lived grew more broom corn than anywhere else in the country. Now, I can’t verify if what he claimed is 100% true, but our conversation was interesting, and I learned a lot about broom corn.

Full disclosure, I never really thought about how people made brooms in olden days. I figured they used some kind of thin, hard plant stalk. I had no idea brooms were actually constructed by using the top part of a plant. And as it turns out, broom corn isn’t really corn at all. It’s a type of sorghum (Sorghum bicolor), a plant with long fibrous seed heads. Once the seeds are (easily) removed, the remaining strands can be bound together to make great bristles for brooms.

In case you’re interested, here’s a video of a man making a broom from the broom corn seed heads. It’s kind of cool. Though sweeping with one of these old-fashioned brooms looks like hard work. I now have a new respect for people in centuries past.

Short Video on How to Make a Broom with Broom Corn

Seems brooms aren’t the only thing you can use broom corn seed heads for. The stalks make great decorative items like festive spring or fall wreaths, dried flower arrangements, and fun Halloween ornaments. After watching the video, I’m wondering if I couldn’t craft a witch’s broom for the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, my research in to broom corn and its many uses inspired me. I thought it might be fun to have a giveaway. Who doesn’t want a genuine broom corn whisk broom? I decided to give away this little fellow along with a couple of my backlist books. I think it might look cute hanging on a laundry room wall or in the pantry.

To enter the giveaway, all you have to do is comment below on how you use a whisk broom. I’ll start. Sweep crumbs off the counter (ha, ha). I’ll randomly choose one winner from everyone who comments.

P.S. – don’t forget to check out the Petticoats & Pistols FB Readers Group page at:

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