Countdown to Christmas with Cate Masters

Hello and welcome to Day 20 in my Countdown to Christmas Blog! Today’s featured guest is Cate Masters. Cate is here to share a few favorite Christmas memories with us.

Oliver, his heart all a flutter with only a few days left before Christmas, gazes out the window as the snow comes down. He quietly observes the neighboring houses, a warm, fuzzy feeling nestling deep in his gut. He waves a cheery hello to some kids, sled riding, their eyes shimmering with excitement. A man and woman walk hand in hand, smiling at the kids. Twinkle lights sparkle beneath the eaves of homes, snowmen frolic in the yards and doors are decorated with fresh sprigs of holly. When Cate pulls up, he rushes out to greet her, belting out a tune of his favorite song.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks,
Dressed in holiday style
In the air
There’s a feeling
Of Christmas
Children laughing,
People passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on every street corner you’ll hear
Silver bells
Silver bells
It’s Christmas time in the city

Sharon: (rushes to embrace Cate and wish her holiday greetings) Welcome, Cate! Have a seat around the roaring fire and Oliver will bring refreshments.

Awe struck, Oliver stares at Cate, totally unabashed, mouth agape. Hearing his command, he takes off, but not before flexing his biceps with a wicked wink.

Sharon: One of these days I’ll trade him in. LOL But not today. As you know, I love to chat about favorite Christmas memories and traditions. Do you have a favorite memory to share?

Cate: When I was little, my dad was a rural mailman. Christmas time meant tons of goodies from
the people on his route! We couldn’t wait till my dad came home each day to see what
yummies he had. Although the USPS probably frowns on it, I continue the tradition
by leaving cookies for our own mailperson each holiday season.
Being the youngest of seven kids, every meal was an occasion in our household!

Oliver swaggers out, pushing a caddy full of coffee, te, hot cocoa and oven fresh chocolate chips. Humming away to Silver Bells, pours into Santa mugs.

Sharon: Thank you, Oliver. That will be all. Cate, what lovely memories those are. Now do you have a favorite tradition, and if so, why?

Cate: Every year since my kids were little, I’d buy a new ornament for each one. Once they
start families of their own, they’ll have a good start on their own Christmas trees,
and hopefully some happy memories to share with their future kids! That, and decorating
our house to the hilt. Every nook and corner contains a decoration to make the season
special. It takes awhile to finish, but is well worth the effort!

Sharon: I agree. I love to decorate and dress up the home. What fun. Do you have a story about your child or your pet at Christmas that will always
make you smile?

Cate: My husband and I loved to take our kids to Santa events when they were little. When
my son Chris was five, he made the local newspaper during a train ride with Santa
when he gave the Jolly Old Elf a big smooch. By the time Becca, my third and youngest,
was born, breakfasts with Santa were already a tradition. All my kids share a love
of music, but at one such breakfast, three-year-old Becca cut loose dancing to Christmas
tunes. I snapped a photo, and it still makes me laugh to see her exuberant smile
while she’s dancing away all by herself.

Sharon: How funny. A star is born! Did you ever give a gift to a child that would make his or her Christmas wish
come true?

Cate: Other than trying to fulfill my three kids’ wish lists, I also tried to
instill in them a desire to help others. They always helped me pick out stuffed animals
to donate to Toys for Tots, and we’ve donated clothing and other necessities to families
in need. I wanted my kids to realize the joy of giving can be greater than getting.

Sharon: And that’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it. Sad but true, there are a lot of children, adults and pets out there without a home or tree or anyone to care about them. Let’s all spread the cheer this season!

Oliver presents Cate with an apron as they go into the kitchen to bake. Cate has agreed to share her favorite cookie recipe with Oliver and he is overjoyed.

CHRISTMAS RECIPES
These little cookies are bite-sized, tasty and with their colorful sprinkles, add
a festive touch to any table. My Mom’s maiden name was Narducci, so as you might
have guessed, we grew up on Italian food. My sister Claudia makes these the best
(she was blessed with all the cooking genes in our family!).
Italian Anise Cookies a la Claudia
2 ½ cups flour
1 tblsp baking powder
¼ cup softened butter
3 tblsp. Oil
½ cup sugar
3 eggs
1 tsp grated lemon rind
½ tsp anise extract
Small pinch of salt
Stir together flour, baking powder and salt. In a separate bowl, beat butter and
oil. Add sugar and beat thoroughly. Beat in eggs one at a time. Add lemon rind and
anise. Add flour mixture, mixing well. Chill to handle easily.
Form into balls. Bake on ungreased cookie sheets for 12 minutes at 400 degrees. Makes
about 40.
Glaze: Mix 2 tblsp. Butter with confectioner’s sugar. Add a small amount of milk

Cate Masters writes fantasy/dark fantasy, historical, contemporary and speculative
fiction, described by reviewers as “so compelling I I did not want to put it down,”
“such romantic tales that really touch your soul,” “filled with action scenes which
made it a riveting story,” and “the
author weaves a great tale with a creative way of using words that makes the story
refreshing to read.”

The proud mom of three adult children, she currently lives in central Pennsylvania
with her husband, Lily the dog, their dictator-like cat, Chairman Maiow, and dozens
of characters inhabiting her imagination.
Visit Cate online at
www.catemasters.com
http://catemasters.blogspot.com
or follow her on Facebook or Twitter.
Thanks so much
www.twitter.com/CateMasters
www.facebook.com/pages/Cate-Masters/89969413736?ref=ts

Oliver walks Cate to the door, but not before stealing a kiss under the mistletoe!

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Christmas Countdown with Helen Hardt

Hello and welcome to Day 8 of my Countdown to Christmas Blog! Today’s featured guest is Helen Hardt. Helen is in the kitchen with Oliver to share one of her favorite family recipes. With the heady scent of pine drifting from the beautifully decorated Douglas Fir, Oliver, donned in his Santa cap and reindeer apron, sings to Helen as she mixes up the perfect hot toddy.

Have a holly, jolly Christmas
It’s the best time of the year
I don’t know if there’ll be snow
But have a cup of cheer!

And here’s Helen to share her hot toddy recipe with us!

Sharon, thank you for having me today!

One of my favorite holiday traditions is my family’s rendition of this hot beverage favorite. Nothing warms you up like a mug of Wassail, especially when it’s spiked with an ounce of Wild Turkey!

Wassail

1 c. sugar
2 c. water
1 c. lemon juice
1 ½ c. orange juice
14 whole cloves
4 sticks cinnamon
8 allspice berries
1 qt. apple cider

Boil sugar and water for ten minutes. Add spices and let stand one hour. Strain the spices and add fruit juices and apple cider. Heat carefully so it doesn’t boil. Serve warm in mugs or punch cups. Great with 1 oz. Wild Turkey added! Try brandy, as well.

Happy Holidays to all!

Current releases:

Slow and Wet, Ellora’s Cave
Blood Wolf in Got Wolf? Volume On, The Wild Rose Press
Montego Lay, The Wild Rose Press, Wilder Roses

Coming December 11:

The Cowboy and the Cougar, Aspen Mountain Press

Bio:

Helen Hardt is an attorney and stay-at-home mom turned award-winning romance author. She met her real-life hero in law school, and they live in Colorado with their two teenage sons. Helen writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave, The Wild Rose Press, and Aspen Mountain Press. Her non-writing interests include Harley rides with her husband, attending her sons’ sports and music performances, traveling, and Taekwondo (she’s a blackbelt.) Visit Helen at http://www.helenhardt.com/ and http://www.helensheroes.blogspot.com/.


Sharon and Oliver, sipping on a cup of Helen’s holiday cheer, wish Helen a Merry Christmas. Oliver escorts her to the door and helps her on with her coat and scarf. But not before stealing a kiss under the mistletoe!

Have a holly, jolly Christmas!

Countdown to Christmas with Jane Richardson

Hello and welcome to Day 5 in my Countdown to Christmas Blog! Today’s featured guest is Jane Richardson. Jane is chatting with me about some of her fondest Christmas memories. And with the snowflakes swirling down on the bristly pines, coating the branches like spools of angel hair, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Oliver, donned in his Santa cap and reindeer antlers, puts his favorite tune on the stereo and sings along with glee.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,
Everywhere you go,
Take a look in the five and ten glistening once again
With candy canes and silver lanes aglow
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Humming along, he hangs candy canes on the tree. Hearing the silver bells jingle on the door, off he runs to greet Jane.

Sharon hugs her friend as she rushes in, her cheeks all aglow from the cold. Merry Christmas, Jane! You look a bit chilled. Have a seat in front of the roaring fire. Oliver, do bring us some wine and cheese, please!

Oliver, still singing, winks at Jane as he pours mulled wine into two glasses. He unveils a piping hot loaf of crusty bread and Blue cheese. Handing her one glass, he snatches up the other with his jack-be-nimble fingers.. Merry Christmas, Jane!

Sharon: Ah, Oliver, wasn’t that wine supposed to be for me, your boss? You know I haven’t gone shopping for your present yet, but…

Oliver, taking on the role as a magician, produces another glass out of thin air. Pours it for Sharon.

Sharon: Thank you. Sigh. So Jane, do you have a favorite Christmas memory near and dear to your heart?

Jane: You know, with children in the house, you always think ‘well, that was the best Christmas ever!’ every year, and then the next one comes around, and they’re a little older and do things differently this year, and have different interests, but they still love Christmas to bits. You see them grow and change and yet still retain that Christmas magic inside them, and I don’t think that ever really goes away. I can honestly say that every Christmas brings its own unique moments, and adds to the memories of all the years of the children growing up, and each one will always be special to me.

Sharon: That’s lovely. And how about a favorite tradition? You know how I adore them and cherish them. Please share.

Jane: Making decorations for the house in the lead-up to the big day, everything from simple paper chains or cinnamon stick bundles to embroidered and scented felt hearts. I love sitting around the table with the children, a selection of Christmas songs playing and maybe a glass of mulled wine nearby. It’s a lovely way to get everyone involved in the preparations, and it’s so relaxing – a lovely way to ignore all the madness going on in the shops and the town and remember that the special thing about Christmas is all being together at home, safe and warm and happy. That’s what matters.

Sharon: How very true. And you know another thing I love to collect at Christmas is those recipes that have become tradition, passed on from generation to generation. Do you have any to share?

Jane smiles, reminiscing. I do. And here it is from me to you!

Daddy’s Golden Toast!

When we were little kids, it was a tradition that Dad always made the toast for us on Christmas morning. Most of the year he’d be at work, of course, so having him around in the holidays to do ‘cooking’ things always seemed like such a novelty when we were small! Well, over the years, ‘Daddy’s Golden Toast’ developed into a huge part of our Christmas morning tradition. It was just ordinary buttered toast, but he’d make sure it was done to a perfect gold, buttered lavishly right up to the edges, cut into perfect squares and served with great ceremony, still piping hot, on the best china. It still makes me smile to think of it, how my sister and I used to squeal with delight when the toast arrived. As with the best traditions and the very best seasonal recipes, it’s found its way into my own family Christmases, only now it’s my husband who is ‘Daddy,’ and who makes the extra-special golden toast on Christmas morning!

Sharon: Mmmm. I love it. Thank you for dropping by to chat with us during this busy time, Jane. Wishing you and your family a very Merry Christmas!

Oliver rushes over, mistletoe in hand. Holding it above Jane’s head, he steals a kiss, running off, his heart all a flutter!

Take time to reminisce this holiday season. The magic of Christmas will make all the hustle and bustle come full circle! What’s that, Oliver? Sharon slaps herself. But of course. How could I forget. Jane has a Christmas Wishes Contest on her blog, Home Thoughts From A Broad, so don't forget to enter!

Oliver once more elbows Sharon in the ribcage, nearly knocking her over. All right, Oliver, give me a moment, will ya, while we check out the lovely photo on today’s blog. Yes, Oliver, I agree. All those sparkles puts one in the Christmas spirit!

Scots-born Jane Richardson now lives on the south coast of England where the sun always shines and it never, ever rains, not ever never. She lives in a state of permanent yet jolly chaos with her husband, two children (she thinks they might be hers), several felines, a pooch, a tank full of goldfish and an invisible fox who barks beneath her window every night and keeps her awake. She’s been a management trainer, a stage manager, a dresser and part-time costume assistant and a holistic therapist, so it’s fair to say she’s Been About A Bit!’

Countdown to Christmas with Sharon Donovan

Too Tired for Christmas
“So are you all done with your Christmas shopping?” a friend asked, quickly adding, “Mine are all wrapped and tonight I’m baking my cookies.”
“I haven’t even started yet,” I replied, wondering why people were always in such a hurry to rush the season. But even before the words were out of my mouth, a surge of panic shot through me as that little voice in my head warned me that if I didn’t get out there, all the “Must have” gifts would be gone. With a sinking heart, I recalled last year when all those gifts that were supposedly so easy to find sent me on a wild goose chase all over Pittsburgh. I spent hours surfing the net only to find that every gift on my quest was either sold out or out of stock. No way was I going through that again. What choice did I have? It was time to hit the sales.
Has the world gone mad or are we robots programmed to do battle until every hard to find gift is found? Outrageous price tags come down for one day to their original value only to cause complete mayhem and utter chaos. Nonetheless, countless shoppers are willing to stand in line for hours in the bitter cold to get the hottest computer games and the latest trend to hit the market. No kids -- no problem. Buy it on sale and sell it for three times its worth on eBay. The clock is ticking. The race is on. It’s time to get swept up by the commercial vacuum of Christmas.
For a solid two hours, adrenaline pushed me from store to store through the mall. My mind buzzed with turmoil. Will Aunt Joanie be terribly disappointed with the dead ringer knock off bag I fought two other women for? Where can I find those gourmet coffee beans everyone wants and no one has? Not one store I’ve been to has one DVD on my list. Did I get enough batteries? And now that every single person on my scratch off list sent me a card, I have to reciprocate. Another stop at the card store. “Bah! Humbug!”
Just as I sat down to compose myself, the train whistle blew, sending a cargo of giggling children racing around the Santa village. Their joyous laughter was contagious. Before I knew it, I was filled with nostalgic memories of my own childhood when the spirit of Christmas was brought in with the putting up of the Lionel train set.
Around the first week of December, my entire family trooped down to the basement where we proceeded to make a village into a Christmas spectacular. We pulled out box after box, remembering exactly what was stored in each one. After that, we got busy, and like little elves helping Santa, we all had a job to do.
The first thing my dad and brother did was set up the platform on two wooden horses while my mom and sister and I unpacked the Lionel train set and accessories from yellowed newspapers. We squealed with delight when we came across all time favorites.
“Here’s the duck pond with the wooden bridge,” I yelled over the pounding. “Remember last year when we froze water and made it into an ice skating rink?”
“I found my favorite house!” my sister held up the snow-covered cottage with the bristly pine tree nestled against it. “I can’t wait to see it light up!”
A quick glance showed the platform was up and the track was being nailed down. As we waited impatiently for it to be secured, our dog Spark yipped around in playful circles, dragging around whatever he could sink his teeth into. As snowflakes fell and the village went up, the aroma of sugar cookies wafted through the house. With Christmas carols playing in the background, it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Everyone was so busy no one noticed when our mom disappeared, but everyone noticed when she came back with a plate of freshly baked cookies and mugs of hot cocoa. “Time for a snack.”
As the hours unfolded, our little village was just about complete, and the anticipation for “Light up” night mounted.
“Put this capsule in the engine,” my dad told my brother. “Once the train heats up, steam will come out.”
“I’ll be the conductor,” my brother took his place at the control station as we all gathered around for the big moment.
Turning out the lights, we stared in awe at the village we created. Charming cottages glowed in the dark as the train rolled down the track and through the two tunnels. As it made its way around the town, a puff of cherry wood scented smoke billowed out of the engine. Lugging its cargo to the other end of the village, the freight train whistled as it took a sharp bend, “Woo—woo,” proving it was the little engine that could.
Snapping out of my revelry, realization dawned. What happened to the spirit of Christmas?
Suddenly, fighting the maddening crowds at the mall took a back seat. With all the rushing around, standing in line and worrying about a million things, the spirit of Christmas had been sucked up by the savage hunger of commercialism. Like Scrooge waking up from a dream, I was struck with an epiphany as I realized too much emphasis is placed on the commercial value of Christmas. Reflecting on simpler times, better times, I left the mall with a much lighter heart. Christmas isn’t about how many gifts we give or receive – it’s about the magic of the season. And if you need a reminder the next time you’re at the mall fighting the crowd, take time to reminisce. Take a break from the madness. Grab a hot drink, take a seat and remember when the joy of Christmas was contagious.

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Christmas Countdown with Sharon Donovan

Hello and welcome to Day 1 of my Christmas Countdown Blog! I would like to start the countdown with my favorite Christmas memory. Putting up the train set. Won't you take a trip with me through the Swiss Alps? Enjoy the tour!

The world of make believe is portrayed through a child’s imagination each year through the magic of Christmas. Anything is possible. Hearing a favorite story or watching a movie or reading a book unlocks the door to an endless array of fantasies. This is a mystical and enchanting time for a child, and I was no exception.

The magic started at my house when we put up the Lionel train set. Around the first week of December, my family transformed the basement into a captivating village from another place and time. I couldn’t wait. As my mom and sister and I unwrapped the train set, cottages, tunnels, and other accessories from their boxes, my dad and brother made a platform out of a piece of plywood and two wooden horses. Once that was up, they nailed down the track and rigged the lights to bring the village to life.

As the evening unfolded, the pounding dwindled off to a few final taps of the hammer. With the track safely secured on the platform, we set up the train station along with the transformer to make it run. As our village went up, anticipation soared. Nothing in this world could compare to watching the rural town come to life with its stucco cottages, duck pond and covered bridge, and a farmer’s stand surrounded by a rough fumed fence.

Standing back to admire our little town, I wondered where the train was heading. Deciding it could go anywhere I wanted it to go, my creative mind went to work as I allowed myself to drift off into a fantasy. Conjuring up images of pine forests lined with chestnut trees, blueberry bushes, and long walking paths, I gave my imagination free rein.

I’d just finished reading Heidi, and her adventures in the Swiss Alps sounded like so much fun. Rolling green pastures under snow-capped mountains high in the hilltops flashed through my mind along with fresh country air, pine trees, and friendly people. Thinking of the millions of paths to explore and all that rich Swiss chocolate and good cheese, I decided to take a trip to the Swiss Alps. Scurrying to catch the train before it took off, I was just in time as the conductor rang his bell and bellowed out, “All aboard!”


Large sturdy farmhouses framed by green pastures landscape the mountainside. Lazy milka cows graze in the grass alongside old wooden barns. White chalets with flowering window boxes and carved wooden doors sit amidst the sunny valley, and a cheerfully splashing creek meanders through the forest thickly studded with needle and moss-covered boulders.
Looking up at one of the mountain chalets, I notice a lady leaning out the window holding a sprinkling can, ready to water her wild purple orchids. Hearing a rustling in the pine needles, she waves a cheery greeting. “Hello down there!”

Toward the gushing water stream, a man whistles as he turns the wheel of the butter churn. From the charming cottage trimmed in bric-a-brac, the aroma of blueberry pancakes waft through the clean mountain air. A lady sticks her head out the door and yells, “Breakfast is ready – come and get it!”

Dairy farms are nestled in the valley beneath snow-capped peaks. Cow bells tinkle in the breeze as cattle wander freely in lush undulating meadows, munching on grass without a care in the world. “Moo – moo.” Higher up on the slopes, mountain billy goats roam the hillside, and a golden eagle soars across the sunny blue sky.

My adventure takes me deeper into the woods where there are huge boulders embedded in the ground. Cheerfully chirping mountain birds sing to me as I pick a handful of blue bells, and a woodpecker busily drills in the bark of a tree. The white speckled plumage of a nutcracker disappears into a bristly pine tree, emerging a moment later with a pinecone between his toes.
Hiking further up the alpine trail, I look down and stumble into a world of untouched beauty. A waterfall tumbles over jagged peaks and deep gorges into a sprawling lake beneath. Red deer frolic in a mystical meadow of wild flowers, and a swan splashes about in a crystal clear stream.

My next adventure takes me skipping through a dense forest coated with pine needles and fruit trees. Hungry from my hike, I pluck some ripe juicy berries from the vine and pop them into my mouth. The echoing hoot of a long-eared owl warbles across the forest as I follow another winding path.

Crushing pinecones as I walk, my path takes me to a rural village with a schoolhouse, weather-beaten sheds, and a water mill. The smell of cinnamon cookies and Swiss chocolate drift out of a bakery. A factory worker smiles as he sells a pair of hobnailed shoes to a lady wearing a Bernese hat with a black veil. Handing her the parcel wrapped in brown paper, he smiles warmly and says, “Thank you kindly, miss.” A bell jingles on the door as she leaves.

As the sun breaks through the morning dawn, a farmer wearing a tall black hat stands on a mountain top herding sheep. His cheeks are rosy from the cold, but he yodels as he works. “Yodel-ay-hi-hi. Yodel-ay-hi-hi!” Picking up his alpenhorn, a long, curved wooden horn, he blows into it, signalling to a neighbor across the Alps.

My trip across the Swiss Alps takes its final journey as the train goes through spiral tunnels and looping viaducts. When it comes out, it emerges into a winter wonderland surrounded by glaciers glistening in the snow like diamonds.

A hidden valley makes a picturesque scene as skiers sweep down the steep slopes of the mountains. Giggling kids bobsled in the snow, and a St. Bernard yips around them in playful circles. Frosty the snowman, dressed in a Santa hat and red scarf, waves to me as he stands tall amidst the bristly pine trees, bidding me a cheery farewell as I depart the majestic Swiss Alps. “Ho Ho Ho!”

Did your family put up a train? And if so, do you carry on the tradition with your kids? I'd love to hear your memories. Comments are most welcome!

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!