Karen Kay

Good Morning Western Romance Lovers!

 Strange topic for discussion, isn’t it?  But November means more to me than just Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season.  For me, it spells birthdays.  And today I’d love to hear about your birthday and anything special that you would like to share with us about them.

Okay, so why November and birthdays?  Well, it begins with my own, I supppose.  I’m a November baby.  Now, I must make mention here that I do not like my sign, never have.  And though some friends of mine might say that it fits me (somewhat at least) — to my way of thinking, it does not.

That aside, when I was young I always thought that my birthday was special, because in southern Illinois (where I grew up), November was probably the most beautiful month of the year.  Smells of leaves and the crisp air, combining with the scent of smoke from the leaves being burned (yes, in southern IL at that time, we burned our leaves) all made the month special for me.  However, never, not once in all my growing up, did I ever have an actual birthday party — not until I was older and with a family of my own did that ever occur.

My children say that November is a tough time for them because of all the birthdays in the month.  To start off, there’s mine, then there’s my brother-in-law’s and my favorite cousin’s, then there’s my ex-hubby’s wife’s birthday toward the end of the month and then right at the end of the month is my ex-hubby’s birthday.   There’s also a good friend’s birthday in there, as well.  The above picture to the left by the way, is of a birthday party for my kids a few years ago.

 This is Sammy, enjoying a birthday, as well.  Now, let’s also take a look at the traditional Native American style birthdays.  In the Lakota nation — or as I have been told — it was once customary for the person with the birthday to give gifts, not get them.  Note that in Native America, sharing with others was natural and one of the highest honors accorded to an individual.  No man could hold office who squandered his riches to himself.  But don’t think that this was a form of socialism, as I have read others to envision.  Definitely not, since socialism denotes the action of force in taking away the assets of another to give to someone else (and not necessarily to someone else who is more in need — often that asset goes directly into the pockets of the already rich and not-so-famous).

In Native America, sharing was an act of kindness and an act of selflessness.  It was considered one of the highest actions a human being could bestow upon another, and nothing was ever taken from one by force (as in our income tax system).  Things were given to others to show respect and to show one’s love of one’s fellows.

So please come and share your stories with me and with others today.  I and our wonderful audience of romance lovers, would very much delight in hearing from you.  But most of all, have a truly super November!

Thank you to all of you who shared some of your life’s stories with us today.  I enjoyed every single  post and read with interest about all our wonderful critters that so enrich our lives.  My thanks go especially to Taryn, Mary Connealy, Joy, Joanne, Chelley, Lynn/Elsandra, Jennifer Y, Jane Squires Terry Storm and Estella.  And thanks to my fellow Western Romance Authors, Lorraine, Stacy, Linda and Charlene.  Have a wonderful evening, and be sure to check in tomorrow.

Good Morning Everyone!

This morning I’d thought I’d share some pictures and insights on those wonderful animals who share our lives.  And of course, I would like to hear about your animals.  How many you have, what kind — does anyone have an unusual pet?  Like a skunk or something like that?  By the way, I’ve heard that they make great pets.

 Let’s start with Princess Sierra.  This was a recent picture taken earlier this year — in June — notice that there is a tiarra hanging over her head.  We did not touch up the picture or put it there and in all the pictures that we took of her, there is is, right there.  At first I didn’t know what it was, but when I showed it to my brother-in-law, he of course, said — it’s a tiarra, of course.  Princess Sierra is not only a calico, she was originally my daughter’s cat, who grew to love going outside so much that my daughter had to leave her with us — because my daughter can have only indoor pets.  She is, indeed, a princess and we appropriately treat her as such.  Sierra was also one of my characters in a back book, THE PRINCESS AND THE WOLF.

This is Sammy, our black and white kitty.  Sammy got bit about 6-7 years ago and developed feline aids and so he is our kitty who tends to be a little sick.  Though he no longer has feline aids, he does have a condition of the mouth called stomititis that we are finding just doesn’t seem to go away.  However, he is doing well and has become one of our most wonderful house cats.

And here we have Kali, whom I call our California bound kitty.  Originally I found her in Florida, and when I discovered that she had been abandoned by her family, I brought her home with me.  Unfortunately for both her and Sierra, it seems to be best to have only one calico per household.  To this day, they still play games (not so great games) with each other.  Maybe in another few years…

Here’s another picture of Sierra, who once accompanied my husband and I on a tour — here she is being our fearless driver.

And here’s Midnight Thunder — named after another book, NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE.  He was found by my brother-in-law while my husband and I were on tour — and he was found at night — at the time I was touring with the book, NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE and so we named him in honor of that book.  Midnight is quite a lady’s man — visiting the neighborhood women one by one each day.  He is one of the most popular cats in our neighborhood.  He and Kali, however, are official boyfriend and girlfriend.

We have many other pets, Puffin — our kitchen cat (she is pure white and stays in the kitchen most of the time).  Squeeky, who is my husband’s cat (she is all black) — they (my husband and Squeeky) were together when my husband and I first met each other.  And then there’s Bear, who was named because he so resembles a bear.  Bear is our only full-time outside cat.  He was my brother-in-law’s cat, who now lives with us.  Bear is also a black and white kitty, although he has long hair.

 In addition we also have three dogs, Bandit, who is 14, going on 15.  And two new pups, Prancing Wolf and Yoda — both of whom we adopted having met them on the Blackfeet reservation this past July.  We also seem to have acquired a few opossums.

So now comes the time when I would like to invite you to tell me about your pets, what they mean to you and how much they enhance your life (as I’m sure they do).

I would leave you, however, with this beautiful shot from one of our earlier trips to the Blackfeet reservation in Montana.  The horses are not ours, but rather a friend’s whose father kept and raised horses. 

Looking forward to hearing from you today.

Good Evening bloggers!

Thank you all for visiting our site today and for joining in the discussion.  I want to especially thank Taryn Raye, AndreaW, Mary Connealy, Paty, Tanya Hanson, Joanna Sheats, Cherie J., Connie Lorenz, Crystal Adkins, and my fellow Western Authors, Charlene Sands, Pam Crooks, Elizabeth Lane and Linda Broaday.

Thank you all for your delightful posts and insightful comments.

And now one more thing before I sign off for the day — I thought I’d share some photos with you from the weekend.  The first photo is a picture of the very first shot that I fired, along with the so very understanding and patient instructor — who was left holding the gun as I backed up crying.  The second photo was taken the next day, with me recovered from my original shock and shooting on my own.

Have a super day tomorrow and please remember that if you haven’t already done so, please be sure to enter into our contest.  There are some wonderful prizes.

Howdy!

Having  just returned from a four day weekend at a very unusual place, I thought I’d tell you a bit about it.  Since the name of our blog is Petticoats & Pistols, I thought it might be pertinent to talk a little about pistols…guns.

Now this is a subject that I know next to nothing about and anything I’ve ever written about guns has been research…in fact, outside of holding a gun in my hand maybe twice this lifetime, I’ve had nothing to do with pistols and in truth, up until recently, little interest in them.

However, since I often write about men at a time in history when a man was known by the kind of weapons he used and how well he kept them — not to mention how well he could shoot — it occurred to me that perhaps my hero should be carrying a weapon every now and again — particularly since he needs to protect the heroine against the bad guys.  So this weekend my husband and I attended a four day class on shooting.  The place was the hot desert area of Las Vegas area and the place was Front Sight.

Although I’ve always been a pro-second Amendment person, the one thing I learned is how much I really don’t know.  So please come with me for a moment and share a little of this unusual weekend with me.

Imagine this:  I thought it would be an easy weekend with me and my husband together, doing a little shooting and a little learning and a lot of one on one with my hubby.

Wrong…except for spending a good deal of time with my hubby — but time spent on a shooting range…

Little did I know the weekend would be spent much like a bootcamp.  Our hours were from 8AM to 7PM each and every day(sometimes later — on Saturday we had a night shoot), and we were constantly shooting or learning.  Now, since I exercise daily and since we had to be up long before the sun came up in order to make it to the complex on time, it soon became apparent to me that this was anything but a casual weekend.

One thing I thought was spectacular about this course (which was taught by former police officers or military personnel)was a required seminar on the ethics of owning a weapon and the moral choices one has to make if ever one is in a life and death situation.  In other words when to shoot and when not to shoot.

Okay with that said, now we get to the first time I have ever shot a gun.  At Front Sight, things are taken step by step.  First you practice with your gun without ammunition — we rented our guns, by the way.  Then you load up the gun with ammunition and you are ready to walk out onto the range to shoot.  Luckly, an instructor is nearby to ease you through your first shoot.

Never in my life would I have thought I would have reacted as I did to the first shot I’ve ever taken with a gun.  Never.  Not ever.  What was that reaction?

I cried.

Yep, I cried.  Luckily the instructor was there to hold the weapon for me as I literally left the weapon hanging in the air, put my head in my hands and cried.   And cried.  But knowing I was there to learn, and really wanting to learn how to defend myself if ever needed, I continued on — after some heady discussion with my hubby.  Subsequently, however, I cried again on the second and third shot, as well.  It got better, though, and after that initial response, the first day passed quickly into a gorgeous sunset.  I even started making some good shots.

However, it was back to the beginning for me on the second day with my first shot of that day.  Again, I cried.  I can’t explain it, nor did I want to try to figure out why.  Perhaps it was the extreme use of force or maybe it was something else.  I don’t know.  The only thing I knew for sure was that the only thing I could do was to bust through it.

And I did.  It was better on the second day, though — and with lots of instructor help, I came to eventually enjoy myself.  It was a rather large class there at Front Sight with the guys out numbering the gals by about 6 to 1.  However, I soon met someone who was a little like me and hadn’t shot before and we soon became friends.

On the third day, we were all put through simulator drills — where we went into a “house” that had cardboard figures in it of men with guns.  We students had to decide when to shoot and when not to shoot.  It was the first time I ran across the cardboard picture of a man holding a woman hostage with a gun to her head.  And I was supposed to shoot at the image of the criminal.

I put my gun down and said, no way.  I was afraid I’d shoot the woman hostage instead of the bad guy.  But the instructor was kind, understanding, and walked me through it — and I eventually took a shot at the cardboard figure of the bad guy, and I gotta tell you, I manged to lay a shot to the bad guy’s head in one shot alone.  However, as soon as I’d done it, I again cried.  Thank goodness the instructor was there to coach me through that, as well.

Looking back on it now, I must admit now that the entire experience was fun and exciting, though at the time I thought it was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done.  One thing did happen, though, and that is that I came away with the feeling that if ever I were caught in a life or death situation, I would not only know what to do, I would have the skills to do it.

Will I ever go back to Front Sight to improve my skills?  You bet.  

Hopefully, later today I will be able to get up some pictures of the weekend end (I have to wait for my hubby to download them first).  But for now let me share with you the cover art for THE LAST WARRIOR, my next book which is due to be released in March of next year. 

I would love to hear from you about your reactions to shooting, if you’ve ever done it — or your opinions about shooting, as well.  So come and let’s have a talk.