Tina Radcliffe Coming Friday!

Our dear talented friend, Tina Radcliffe will arrive for a visit Friday, May 29, 2026!

She’ll tell us about the fictional town of Aspen Creek, Colorado where a brand new six-book series is set and give us some information about cowboy boots! It’ll be plumb interesting, I’ll bet’cha.

Her grand prize giveaway is a print copy of Book One plus a cowboy coffee cup and sticker. Five winners will only get the stickers.

So saddle up and head over come Saturday. You’ll have a passel of fun along with us!

Modern Conveniences and a Give Away

My house. I loved it.

I lived off the grid for twenty-two years. We only lived two miles from power lines, also two miles off a main road, but the power company wanted $500,000 to take a power line to our house. We chose not to do that, so we created our power with a generator, first propane with a wind backup, and then diesel. I learned a lot of basic mechanics over the years because the one rule of generators is that they will fail, and usually at a very inconvenient time. Ask me why I flinch when the lights flicker. My fridge was propane and a whopping 7.7 cubic feet. It too failed every now and again, so I am now quite adept at fixing propane fridges.

Now that I have “regular” power, I have it easy. At my old house, I had to schedule laundry, ironing, showers, TV watching, hair drying, cooking with the electric oven, and using the microwave around the times that the generator was running–from whenever we got up to 10:00 in the morning, then from 4:00 in the afternoon to bedtime.  I could not use a crockpot. I did not charge my phone at night. Oh–I also had one of the first cell phones because the telephone company took eleven years to run a line to us. It was so big that it was mounted on the wall, and if you took it somewhere you had a special carrying bag like a brief case to hold it. All calls, incoming and outgoing, were 60 cents a minute. If a telemarketer called you, it cost you.

I did love the “simple” life and it was a great way to raise kids.  That said, it’s so nice to take a shower without tuning on the power. To cook when I want, sew when I want, make a phone call that doesn’t cost 60 cents a minute (that did change to a more reasonable price as cell phones became more common).

Would I go back? Let’s say this–I could go back. It’s a tougher life, and expensive, but doable, and there are some definite advantages. It’s really peaceful and at that time, before phones and battery powered laptops, you looked to other things to fill your time. And even though it was a challenging life in some ways, it was nothing compared to how rural people lived in the first part of the last century. Now those were tough people.

My question to you today, for a $10 Amazon gift certificate, is an offshoot from my topic.  Let’s say you have a cooking stove that needs no electricity, an ice box, and (wonder of wonders) indoor plumbing. No communication or entertainment devices. What modern convenience would you like to add to the mix?  For me, it would be electric lights.

Fashion on the Frontier

There are few things as hopeful as a new dress.
Not a practical dress meant for scrubbing floors, hauling water, or feeding chickens. I mean a new dress. One sewn from carefully chosen fabric, trimmed with ribbon if one could afford it, and made for church socials, dances, weddings, or simply the pleasure of feeling pretty for an afternoon.

For women on the frontier, fashion was not frivolous. It was aspiration stitched into fabric.

Life in the West could be hard, dusty, and painfully practical. A woman might spend her days baking bread over a hot stove, mending shirts by lamplight, or battling wind that coated everything in dirt by noon. But even in rough mining towns and isolated homesteads, women still longed for beauty.  And when a new dress arrived? Oh, mercy. That was an event.

A woman might save for months to buy fabric from the general store, or eagerly await the arrival of a Sears Roebuck catalog to gaze at the latest fashions from back East. Imagine living in a tiny frontier town and suddenly seeing illustrations of elegant walking suits, velvet bodices, fitted jackets, lace collars, and sleeves shaped in the newest style. It must have felt like peeking into another world.

Sometimes dresses were ordered ready-made. More often, however, women sewed them at home or paid a local seamstress if they had the means. And frontier women could be remarkably resourceful. A dress might begin as one garment, then be altered and remade several times over its life. Skirts were recut. Bodices reshaped. Trims removed and replaced as fashions changed. Nothing was wasted.

Still, despite the practical nature of frontier life, women absolutely paid attention to fashion trends. Bustles, fitted waists, decorative buttons, embroidery, ruffles, and fine hats all made their appearance in western towns sooner or later. Even isolated communities wanted to keep up with the times.

And honestly? I love that.

There’s something deeply human about wanting a little beauty in the middle of hardship. I especially love imagining the excitement surrounding special occasions. A church social. A wedding. A town dance. A woman carefully pinning up her hair while smoothing her newest skirt, hoping the hem didn’t drag in the mud before she arrived. A husband pretending not to notice the new ribbon while secretly thinking his wife looked prettier than the sunrise.

Believe me, men noticed.

Oh, they absolutely noticed! I think that’s part of why dresses mattered so much. They represented more than fashion. They represented identity, femininity, dignity, and sometimes even hope. On the frontier, where life could become survival very quickly, putting on a beautiful dress was a reminder that a woman was still herself beneath all the work and worry. And let’s be honest… there is still a little frontier woman alive in most of us today.

Modern women may not wait six months for fabric to arrive by wagon train, but we still understand the thrill of finding the dress. The one that makes us stand a little taller. The one we smooth over our hips before turning to the mirror with a smile.

Some things never really change.

So now I’m curious…

If you could step into the Old West for one evening, what sort of dress would you wear to the town social? Something elegant and sophisticated? Bright and cheerful? Lots of lace? Or practical with just a touch of flair?

Remember & Honor – Memorial Day 2026

“Memorial Day is a time to honor the brave men and women who gave everything to protect our freedoms. It’s not just about remembering their sacrifice, but about ensuring their legacy lives on in the values we uphold every day. We owe them more than a moment of reflection—we owe them our gratitude, our respect, and our commitment to preserving the liberty they fought for.”

Charlene Raddon Has Winners!

Thank you for visiting, Miss Charlene! We loved your faro post! Come back soon.

Ready for the Drawing?

Two Commenters will get one of Miss Charlene’s books!

And the Winners are…………

ANN STEWART

BARBARA RAYMOND

Yippee! We’re doing the happy dance! Now watch for Miss Charlene’s email and select your choice. You can find the full list of her books on her Amazon Author Page and you’ll find a link at the bottom of her post.

Welcome Guest Author Charlene Raddon

FROM SODA TO HOCK – A Discourse on The Game of Faro, as Played in The Wild West

The first card out of a faro box was called the “soda” and did not count in the betting. The last card in the deck, the “hock,” was also dead. Thus, derived the expression, “from soda to hock,” meaning from beginning to end, one of many idiomatic terms that came into the language from the frontier’s most popular game (from The Knights Of The Green Cloth by DeArment).

In preparation for the writing of my book, Maisy’s Gamble, I did an in-depth study of the game of Faro (also spelled pharo). Dealing faro, you see, was how my heroine, Maisy Macoubrie, earned her living.

Between 1850 and 1910, the stereotypical frontier gambler was found in every mining camp, railhead, cattle town, and army post, plus a few places in between. Hiding his thoughts and emotions took no effort for this man, for he naturally avoided letting anyone too close; they might discover his secrets. His eyes flick over every surface, every face, while his brain calculates the possible opportunities to be had on site. His ear takes in every clink of a coin, every whisper of pastebacks being shuffled. No weapons are visible on his person. Gems flash from rings and stickpins. He appears amiable, but don’t be fooled; he can be ruthless to a fault.

Seeing a game starting up at a back table whose occupants wear fine broadcloth suits, gold watch chains and polished shoes, he saunters over, watches for a moment, then asks, “Mind if I sit in?” The other players eye him up and down, decide he’s okay and motion for him to take a seat.

The dealer, a young man in clean but ordinary clothes, isn’t taken in by the new player but says nothing. Folks in the Old West tended to mind their own business.

By the time the game is over, the new fellow has a pile of money and chips in front of him and the other men wear disgruntled expressions on their faces. Our young gambler knew his fellow players were not gamblers but townsmen seeking entertainment. He never plays against professionals except when he wants to test his skills and mettle.

Maisy, in my book, Maisy’s Gamble, would also recognize the young dandy as a professional and know how to deal with him. Of course, Maisy never cheated, except to save the life of a mistreated dog. And Hock, as she named the dog, was forever grateful and gave her his love and devotion, ready to lay down his life to defend her. Hock manages to get along with Maisy’s other pet, a grumpy calico cat named, of course, Soda.

But there’s only so much a dog can do to keep his mistress alive, particularly when she has an enemy who wants to see her dead.

That’s where The Preacher comes into the story. Preacher is a professional gunman who tends to pray over his victim’s graves. He and Maisy have a mutual enemy and soon join forces in the biggest gamble of their lives against a ruthless killer.

Maisy’s Gamble

For years, Maisy McCoubrie, a woman haunted by a past filled with betrayal and tragedy, manages to stay out of the clutches of one Gold Kingsley who seduced her when she was a mere girl. But now, as she navigates the saloon world as a Faro dealer, hiding her illegitimate son from the world, and his father, she spots Kingsley on the street and jumps on a departing train.

Tasked by Kingsley with finding Maisy, The Preacher, a man with a shadowy history and a notorious repute, harbors doubts about the man’s plans for Maisy. When he stumbles upon a seemingly lifeless saloon girl, he learns Kingsley’s cruelty knows no bounds. But again, Kingsley turns the tables on his enemy and frames The Preacher for the girl’s murder.
As danger looms, The Preacher and Maisy are drawn together by a force more potent than revenge—love. Their shared quest to bring Kingsley to justice unites their hearts in a story of unlikely alliances turned passionate devotion.
But Kingsley will stop at nothing to see his malevolent designs come to fruition. When Maisy’s son becomes an unwitting pawn in the final confrontation, the lines between right and wrong blur. With Maisy and The Preacher working together, justice will be served, even if it means taking matters into their own hands.

In this Western historical romance, love blossoms amidst the dust and danger of the Old West, and justice is found in the most unexpected places. Join Maisy and The Preacher as they navigate a treacherous path toward happiness, leaving a trail of redemption and reckoning in their wake.

Amazon Link

Charlene will be giving away winner’s choice of an eBook copy of any of her books to TWO lucky readers. To be entered simply leave a comment here.

An avid reader, Charlene Raddon never planned to be a writer. A vivid dream changed that. She dragged out a portable typewriter and began to put her dream on paper. Originally published by Kensington Books, Charlene is now an Indie author. All her books have received high accolades, contest wins, and awards. When not writing, she designs historical book covers at her site  where she specializes in westerns.

 

Charlene’s website

Facebook Link

Amazon author page

Gingham Mountain releases next Tuesday—and a giveaway

Wow, this re-release schedule is HECTIC.

Gingham Mountain is book three in what will be a NINE book series called

PETTICOATS AND COWBOYS

(I love that because it sounds so much like Petticoats and Pistols!!!)

Right now it’s listed as book 3 out of 6, but three more are coming.

GINGHAM MOUNTAIN

I always consider this book the story of my own life growing up. The tiny house…full of kids. All outside playing really year round…yep, it’s Nebraska. COLD in the winter. HOT in the summer.

But honestly our heater was pathetic and the air conditioning…well, I’m not sure air conditioning had been invented yet. Least ways there wasn’t much of it around my house.

So outside was actually cooler than inside in the summer. And it wasn’t that much warmer in the winter. Plus my mom’s solution to about 90% of discipline problems was GO OUTSIDE!!!

None of us are in jail (I’m reasonably sure none of us even is on the run from the law)

So I’m claiming that as a good discipline tool.

There were EIGHT OF US. In a TWO BEDROOM FARM HOUSE. Well, later it was a three bedroom farmhouse. So I exaggerate!

It was the baby boom. These things happened. Our neighbors across the road built a four bedroom house for their seven kids and man, was that fancy.

Anyway.

So Grant stacking kids in his ramshackle house was the absolute truth. I knew it could be done.

And Hannah, such a little pill. Driving Grant CRAZY trying to save the orphans he kept adopting. Her heart was in the exact right place. And Grant would have handled it better if she didn’t make his heart skip a beat every time he saw her. And if he didn’t end up kissing her a few times which was absolutely NOT his plan.

I love this book. It is, I believe, the bestselling book of all I’ve written, which is weird. I just figured that whole three book series just built and built and built. Until BAM Gingham Mountain.

What did you do back then that is absolutely NOT allowed today? My city grandkids can NOT be told to get out of the house. It’s DANGEROUS OUT THERE. Hah, as if we didn’t flirt with death all day every day climbing around the rafters of buildings and wandering into yard with killer bulls.

Leave a comment about your own childhood to get your name in a drawing for an ebook copy of Gingham Mountain. It’s available now for pre-order but it’s coming SOON!!!

Gingham Mountain

A devoted bachelor rancher, a determined schoolteacher, and the orphaned children who bring them together.

Grant Cooper has dedicated his life to taking in orphaned children others have overlooked, building a loving family on his rugged Texas ranch. When a new schoolteacher arrives in Sour Springs with strong opinions about his unconventional household, he finds himself drawn to her fierce spirit—even as she challenges everything about his carefully ordered world.

Hannah Cartwright’s own painful past as an orphan makes her wary of the bachelor rancher raising children alone. But as she gets to know Grant’s extraordinary family, she discovers there’s more to him than meets the eye. When dangerous enemies threaten both their futures, Hannah and Grant must learn to trust in God’s plan—and each other.

Can a man who’s sworn never to marry risk his heart for love? And can a woman who’s known only betrayal find the faith to build a true home at last? A touching story of healing, hope and the family bonds that transcend blood.

Charlene Raddon Will Visit Friday!

Our good friend Charlene Raddon will visit us on Friday, May 22, 2026!

We always look forward to her visits. This time she’s going to talk about the game faro that was played all across the west, especially in mining towns. Do you know what the terms “Soda” and “Hock” mean? She’s going to tell us. Very interesting information.

That’s not all. Miss Charlene is going to give away two books so don’t miss it.

We’ll have a lot of fun so shake the wrinkles from your bustle and hustle over.

 

Petticoats & Pistols