 I I have been to many functions throughout the years such as weddings, engagement and anniversary parties, bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs. And I am not a demanding guest, in fact quite the opposite. Once at a wedding a waitress served me coffee in a milk pitcher and when I complained it was cold she told me she just brought it from the kitchen so it should be hot. It was either her first time working at a venue or she never drinks coffee. But she was polite and unpretentious when she told me this so I left the cold coffee untouched and did not complain to our friends who made the wedding for their daughter. I also know what goes into planning a wedding. It's not easy finding the venue, organizing the flowers, the cake, a photographer, music and the caterer. I know this since my daughter just got married last year. So now I am at a wedding and the venue is lovely. The ceremony is taking place outside. There is a lovely rock garden with a creek running through. The day is warm and sunny, a prefect day for a wedding. Inside is just as nice with large old fashion chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, bright colourful flowers on the tables and the bride and groom sitting at the head table happy to begin a new life together. The band is amazing only playing in between meals so we can talk among ourselves. My husband and I are sitting beside a woman named Barbara and her husband. They are a nice couple to chat with. The food is great, the music contagious and everyone is dancing the night away. Then comes the coffee. The waitress is around 30, with a long dark ponytail that sways with her movements. She asks if Barbara and I would like some coffee. We are the only ones sitting on our side of the table, our husbands have disappeared. I am happy because the dessert has just arrived. She pours the coffee for me but she has run out and it only reaches the halfway mark. "I'll come back and refill it," she says to me. And off she goes with her ponytail swinging behind her. I put the saucer over the cup to keep it warm because I love my coffee hot. She comes back five minutes later and starts to pour coffee for Barbara. "I thought you were going to refill mine," I say nonplussed. "You already have your coffee." "But you told me you were going to come back and refill it because you ran out of coffee and it is only filled halfway." "I have never been at this table before." I glance over at Barbara and her mouth is open listening to our confrontation. "But you were just here." "I told you I have never seen you before!" She says glaring at me as if I did the unspeakable—ask for more coffee. "Well then can you just fill up my cup for me?" "No, you're going to have to wait like everyone else." Then she proceeds to pour Barbara her coffee and off she goes to another table her ponytail bouncing behind her. I wonder if she would act the same way if our husbands were with us. Would she refuse to do so then? But we are alone in this or should I say I am alone in this. "Can you believe this?" I say dumbfounded to Barbara not quite believing what just happened. "I felt so sorry for you," Barbara says. "Was she not the same waitress that was here before?" "Yes I believe she was." "I think I should report her." "Why don't you just let it go," Barbara says kindly. I think of 90 Days fiance, a reality TV series on TLC. Alexi is an Israeli who meets Loren, an american girl in Israel. They have to decide in 90 days if they want to get married and live in the states. He is angry at his fiancee's best friend because she organized a male stripper bachelorette party when he told her not to have strippers. She dismissed his request so he does not want her at the wedding. He looks into the camera and tells his audience that his fiancee keeps telling him to get over it and move on. "But I can't," he says, "Loren always tells me to get over things and move on but I cannot get over things and move on because this is not my nature. I cannot get over things." He does not want her best friend at the wedding. And I am like that too! I cannot get over things and this is one thing I cannot get over. I get up from the table and walk to the bar and ask the bartender for the catering manager. He goes and gets her right away. I explain to her what has happened with the waitress. "I have never had anyone talk to me that way especially at a wedding," I say. The manager apologizes. Since the bar is right next to the kitchen I see the swinging doors open and out walks the mean waitress with the ponytail with none other than a cup of coffee in her hand. "That's her!" I yell pointing at her. The coffee spills a bit when she sees me. She mutters something to herself and goes back into the kitchen, clearly rattled. Did she honestly think I would not report her? Would anyone not do so for that matter now that I think of it? "I will speak to her," the manager says. "Could I also have another cup of coffee please?" "Of course, I'll bring it to your table." I thank her and leave. The coffee is brought to me shortly after by the manager and I thank her. I drink it and glance around the room. After a while I notice that a waiter has come to the table and pours a cup of coffee for a man across from me. The waiter leaves immediately not even giving me a glance. I look over at another table and I see a waitress staring back at me and I wonder if they know what has happened and are sympathetic to their workmate. Perhaps I am being blacklisted or blackballed. Or maybe I am just getting paranoid. But the affair is almost over and I have had a great time despite the coffee incident. Nevertheless I look for the waitress with the ponytail to confront her again. I want to tell her how mean she was to me and that if she just filled up my cup the situation would have been resolved in two seconds flat. But she is nowhere to be found. As we leave I see an acquaintance of ours at the front entrance about to press his Uber app on his phone so we offer him a lift. In the car we start talking about the wedding and he says that he waited a long time for his meal. So I tell him and my spouse my coffee story. "Yeah," he says. "A waiter with a coffee pot came by asking if I would like some coffee. I said I would if I had a coffee cup since there were none on the table. He comes back later with a coffee cup and only pours me half. I asked him if he could fill it to the top." "Did he do it for you?" I ask gleefully, realizing now that perhaps I was being paranoid and that the coffee may have been in short supply. "Yeah he did." He says. Our friend though is a big guy and he looks tough even though he isn't so I don't know if that counts. No one wants a black eye when alcohol is running rampant. "Oh did you notice the permit on the building for permission to rebuild, probably another condo. The venue may be gone soon," he says. The next day I am contemplating whether to complain to the catering company which is the same name as the restaurant which will most likely be replaced by a condo. Could that be why the service was bad? Their jobs uncertain so why care? Nevertheless I still envision the waitress's eyes that were wide filled with anger as I google the caterer's phone number and debate about dialing. Should I? Is it worth it? And then I think of Alexi saying, "I just can't get over it!" |
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STEVE WADE MYSTERIES by Iris Wynne Promo Tour ~ Aug 26-Sept 2 Hope you will drop by! Hosted: (http://magicofbookspromo.blogspot.com) @MoBPromos Add the book to Goodreads ➜ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25565042-the-missing-mah-jongg-player & https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29858126-the-missing-housewife #Synopsis: Steve Wade is an ex-cop with an ex-wife and girlfriends he could never commit to. Now he’s a private investigator known for his knack in solving crimes. This handsome private eye never has a problem finding customers. His newest case involves five frantic Mah Jongg players who are in search of one of their players who disappeared after meeting a man on an Internet dating site. Wade is reluctant to take the case, believing it to be just another woman not wanting to be found. But the Mah Jongg players are insistent that Marilou did not vanish on her own. In the meantime, they organize a Valentine’s speed-dating gig inviting all the suspects who dated Marilou in an attempt to find her. As he watches the dinner play out he begins to realize she may not have gone willingly when all the suspects are before him. He even hires his sometime drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend for the event to lure the culprit out into the open. Steve just hopes no one goes home with a potential killer. Wade has to work fast as the case begins to unravel when lies and betrayal become evident and the truth of what happened to Marilou becomes clear. Will he be able to find the suspect before they choose another victim? This may be his biggest challenge yet. #BookLinks Amazon: http://amzn.to/2bBa4KJ #Synopsis: Steve Wade is an ex-cop and now private investigator. His reputation for solving crimes is growing. His newest client is a man charged with a murder he says he did not commit. The convict's sister has evidence that the person he supposedly murdered is alive and living somewhere in Shanghai after an old classmate of hers sees a double of the murdered victim while touring parts of Asia. Is the murder victim, a woman, really alive and the man charged with her murder innocent? Steve does not know what to think. Should he believe a convicted killer who was once a drug addict living on the streets? Steve however does not want an innocent man to spend the rest of his life in jail. It's a dilemma he must think through and to try to prove the convicted murderer's innocence. #BookLinks Amazon: http://amzn.to/2bkFFmp Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-missing-housewife #Author info: Iris has always wanted to be a writer even before her six-year-old daughter would sneak downstairs and read aloud her stories on the computer as she would type away. Iris has proof of this in an out dated filing cabinet crammed with old manuscripts and short stories in big binders containing historical romance, mysteries, even fantasy. When she is not working at her computer waiting for a story to come to life, she is busy dog walking, or organizing a game of Mah Jongg and of course reading. Iris lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband. Her children live on their own and her parents are relieved to receive a text message from them now and then. Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1YULoR4 Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/iriswynne Amazon: http://amzn.to/2bsTX62 Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14001283.Iris_Wynne
 Iris Wynne is the author of the previous Steve Wade mystery, The Missing Mah Jongg Player. Please welcome my new release! About Me I enjoy cozying up to a good mystery novel. Iris Wynne is a book lover, a day dreamer and a hopeless romantic. She is a writer of cozy mysteries with an element of romance. She is a mother of two girls and in her spare time she dog walks, plays golf in the summer and of course grabs a game of Mah Jongg whenever she can. (less) For Amazon.ca and Amazon.com http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01BUF9PDG http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BUF9PDG Kobo Link: http://bit.ly/214qddA BOOK BLURB: A man convicted of murder pleads his innocence to no avail until the likeness of a woman he supposedly murdered shows up alive in Shanghai. Steve Wade is an ex-cop and now private investigator. His reputation for solving crimes is growing. His newest client is a man charged with a murder he says he did not commit. The convict's sister has evidence that the person he supposedly murdered is alive and living in Shanghai after an old classmate of hers sees a double of the murdered victim while touring parts of Asia. Is the murder victim, a woman, really alive and the man charged with her murder innocent? Steve does not know what to think. Should he believe a convicted killer who was once a drug addict living on the streets? Steve however does not want an innocent man to spend the rest of his life in jail. It's a dilemma he must think through and to try to prove the convicted murderer's innocence. Excerpt: She had left her group and her husband in order to go to the Peace Hotel washroom which was one of or perhaps even the nicest washroom she had ever seen. Its decor was all black and white marble with gold faucets matching the gold chandeliers along the walls that lit the room. Each toilet had its own cubicle and a shiny black door. American style—no hole in the ground—to every tourist’s delight. And that is when she saw her. Connie stared at the woman beside her who was washing her face. A ghost from the past; a woman who was ostensibly dead four years ago. She blinked back at the woman a few times. She hadn’t seen her in over ten years. She had known her since childhood which was embedded forever as a memory. And Connie Stern’s memory was exceptional. She was the type of person who never forgot a face. The woman beside her was tall and slim. Her hair, once a shiny dark hue, was now peppered with gray. But those eyes were the same, an unusual dark green that glowed like emeralds. That was her trademark along with her natural beauty. She was the second child of a famous music producer from Toronto. His five beautiful daughters had lived in Rosedale, one of the wealthiest areas in Toronto. The youngest three were from another marriage, but they all lived together in harmony with the second wife, or so the story goes. If that was Patricia Gold, she would be in her forties and the woman across from her was definitely that age. Her attractiveness was gone, though, after years of living on the street. It had been a surprise in the community, to say the least, when she left her husband and children in search of drugs. Connie could not believe it when it happened. She had known Patricia well growing up and never saw a sign of it, of the unhappiness or the addiction to drugs. She did know, however, that Patricia wanted to be thinner so she could model. She glanced at her again. The woman glimpsed back at her briefly as she washed her hands. Connie thought of Patricia's husband, whom she knew in high school. He was popular and could pick any girl he wanted. When they married, she and Patricia were no longer friends which always happened in a big city. Different universities, new jobs, and location changes all caused people to make new friends. Nevertheless, they were the perfect couple, everyone thought. Connie always had fond memories of her. Connie put her hands in the dryer, peering over at the woman again. She remembered one of the last times seeing her. It was years ago when she and her own husband were walking their kids in strollers when Patricia and her husband drove by and asked them for directions to the nearest park. Their children were sitting in the back seat, silently staring up at them. It was only Connie who had recognized them but said nothing as her husband rambled off the directions. Too much time had passed for either of them to say anything. Everyone looked different with age anyway. Still, she never forgot a face. Another time, she had seen her at a bar midtown, around Yonge and Eglinton. Connie and two of her friends had decided to go out on the town without kids or spouses, like old times. She hated it though, missing her husband and children, and was just as happy to be home with them. Let the singles have the single life, she had thought. But she did see Patricia Gold there, all dressed up, looking lovely, holding a drink with another old friend who Connie also knew in high school. Her friend was a runner and to this day would be seen running down Avenue Road as if the devil was trying to catch up to her. And that was the last time she saw Patricia, until now, that is, if it was her. She held her breath. “Patricia?” The woman looked up and turned to her with a frown. “Patricia Gold, is that really you?” The woman’s green eyes opened wide along with her mouth. She stared back for a second and then ran out of the washroom, leaving Connie staring back at the swinging door. Connie put her hands down on the white granite sink and wondered, of all things, if the sink was real gold, gold plated or just painted gold. The chandeliers flickered and her reflection staring back at her in the mirror looked flushed and confused. Did she see a ghost or was it a double? She did what the other woman did and rinsed her face. She was wrong—she had hoped—and shook her head trying to ignore what had just happened. She would continue her vacation and carry on as if nothing had happened. Twitter: @iriswynne Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1YULoR4 Website: www.iriswynne.com Instagram iriswynne5 Buy link: For Amazon.com (USA) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BUF9PDG For Amazon.ca (Canada) http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01BUF9PDG  Please welcome Mandi Benet to my blog. To Rome With Love placed fifth in the 2014 Heart-to-Heart competition run by the San Francisco branch of RWA, and is the first in a series called Love in the City. Congratulations Mandi! To Rome With Love is being released Feb. 10, and is a sexy account of a funny and talented soon-to-be-divorcee chef trying to resist the irresistible in a city made for temptation. Book Blurb: When Gaby Conte’s Italian husband, Danieli, abandons her for a young Peruvian waitress at a restaurant they co-own in San Francisco, Gaby seeks refuge in Rome with her best friend Maria. There, she swears off romance for a long while and Italian men forever. That’s until she meets Silvio, who belongs to an old, aristocratic Roman family and lives in a palace alongside the best private art collection in Rome. Silvio, who is the cousin of Maria’s husband, is going through his own divorce. He’s gorgeous, of course, which Gaby doesn’t tell him. And arrogant and condescending, which she does. The last thing Gaby needs is more Italian trouble, but the attraction is instant and powerful, and against the backdrop of one of the world’s most romantic cities, both try—and fail—to resist the chemistry between them. But both Gaby and Silvio have made a rule never to make the mistake of trusting in love again. Will they realize some rules are made just to be broken? Bio: Mandi Benet grew up in England and published her first piece of fiction when she was twelve. She's been scribbling away ever since as an award-winning journalist— covering everything from the Democratic Convention to the Oscars for major American national newspapers and magazines — and as an author, writing women’s fiction and contemporary romance with rich, original characters. Mandi is a member of RWA National and the San Francisco branch of RWA.  Excerpt: Silvio pivoted to toss the tissue into the garbage, and then turned back. He stood rooted in place, watching her. Gaby shivered. Waited. Waited some more. She knew she should run but she couldn’t move. She felt locked to that room. Locked to that man. He stretched out his hand and stroked her cheek softly with his thumb. Goose bumps immediately broke out on her arms. He saw them and smiled, quirking an eyebrow at her in amusement. Her skin felt feverish now, and she could feel moisture settle between her breasts. Silvio ran his knuckles along her jawline, gently caressing her skin, and then moved to her lips, lips she hadn’t much thought about until now, until he touched them, until he made them burn. With one finger, he traced their outline, dipping in and out of the perfect Cupid’s bow that crowned them, and then sweeping along the seam. His own lips parted and he stared into her eyes. Was he asking for permission? She couldn’t give it to him. Her mouth was as dry as a crouton and her brain wasn’t working too well. The air around them pulsed and thickened and Gaby stood as still as a hot summer noon, her heart slowing to thick, solid beats. The banked fire in his gaze sent electrical charges zipping through her, and she felt desire spring crazily within her. She didn’t even like this guy, right? But she saw the lust in his eyes and wanted more. Maybe it was the heat, or too much Chianti the day before, or the fact that Rome exuded a widescreen romance impossible to resist, but only a thin slice of air separated them and, suddenly, she couldn’t wait for Silvio to breach it. She could feel his breath warm on her temple, see his nostrils flare wide, feel him ready to pounce like a lion spotting a limp. She closed her eyes in readiness and before she knew it, he had bent toward her and crushed her mouth to his. Mandi Benet's Buy links: Author | To Rome With Love | http://amzn.com/B01AO6MH96 Author | The Blasphemy Box | www.amazon.com/dp/0615736831 http://www.mandibenet.com/ www.facebook.com/mandibenetauthor https://twitter.com/MANDYSCRIBEISTA https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28789187-to-rome-with-love  I just came back from the Riu Guanacaste Hotel in Costa Rica which was fabulous. Sunwing was not. Before Sunwing came along charters flights were wonderful. To me a charter flight meant direct flights to your destination: meaning no stopovers which was a great advantage with charters flights. Sunwing I believe has changed all that. They changed our flight at the last minute making us get up at 4 in the morning instead of 8 because they were making an unscheduled stop to the Dominic Republic, combining two flights to drop off passengers going to the Dominican. This was something I was not prepared for. In fact I wouldn't have taken the package with Signature Tours. 3 1/2 hours were added to our flight time. It took us over 8 hours to get to our destination. I was hoping this would be the end of flight changes and that our return flight would go unchanged. It was not to be. At the very last minute while we were on the shuttle bus from our hotel traveling to the airport, we were informed that the flight would be delayed another five hours. We arrived at the airport around 5pm and the plane did not arrive until 9:15pm. In fact we were so happy to see the plane glide onto the runway that we all clapped, relieved that we were going home that evening. We left shortly after 10 and arrived in Toronto at 4 in the morning. (I also did not want to return from a destination at 4 in the morning.) Now I wonder when did this all happen—this disregard for people, the lack of respect not to answer our questions as to why the plane was delayed? And I know it was not because of the winter storm that descended along the east coast. Our flight pattern to Toronto did not go towards that direction. The pilot just said there were many reasons for the delay . . . When I look at the Sunwing website, there are a lot of complaints. They don't answer emails or address any problems. Will this be the trend now in charter airlines? I hope not. I will spend the extra money and go on charters that stick to their word. As to sending around a form on the plane concerning a Sunwing experience—please save your money . . .  Please welcome Ryan Jo Summers to my website and I'm delighted to promote her new release Chasing the Painted Skies. Blurb: Raven Koynes is a woman in hiding. Years ago she escaped to remote Gull Island Light Station, nestled far away in Lake Superior. She has carved out a life of peace and solitude for herself. Until famed nature photographer Sebastian Knight arrives--in the height of a nor'easter storm--to document the beauty of Gull Island. Unsavory treasure hunters also blow in with the storm, determined to find missing cargo from a sunken ship. And they are positive Raven knows where it's stashed. A power outage from the storm traps everyone at her keeper's cottage, fellow prisoners of the storm. Between her attraction to handsome Sebastian and the unwelcome advances and threats of the hunters, Raven is pushed to her limit. Help arrives in the form of a stray German Shepherd Dog, who takes an immediate protective interest in Raven. He becomes her constant shadow and listening ear as she sorts out her growing--and conflicting--feelings for Sebastian. Meanwhile, Sebastian came to the island looking for treasure as well, in the form of photographs. While he isn't so sure about missing cargo, he only needs to look at Raven Koynes to know he's found his own valuable treasure. One he hopes he can hang on to if she learns about his mysterious secret. Now that Madeline the resident ghost has found out, it's probably just a matter of time until Raven does too. And with the storm and power outage, no one is going anywhere any time soon. Excerpt: Did that include Sebastian? True, he had yet to take the photographs he came for. So was he willing to go without them? It didn’t sound like he had much choice. And did she really want him to go at all? Despite her talk with him earlier about liking to be alone on the island, his presence had awoken something inside her that dared to say otherwise. Something that dared her to deny its whispered suggestions that she might really be falling for him. She giggled. Too late, she’d already fallen for him and his bewitching green eyes and crooked smile and tender touch. That internal voice dared her to say she didn’t want him to stay, but as more than as a guest. Her heart leapt and beat fast. She wanted him to stay as her man. “There she is! Up there!” Arthur’s angry bellow reached her. Dropping the book, she scanned the rocky ground. Standing below, waving a short handled pick ax at her, Arthur beat his fist in the air. Dudley and Helen stood nearby, also holding out shovels. Cold fear crawled up her spine at the sight and a sweat broke out on her forehead. Pulse racing, she realized she was trapped at the top with no way down but through them. “She’s gonna show us that treasure and right now! Let’s go get her!” Arthur barked, waving his ax like a club. “I want that black-haired witch!” Oh Lord, where was Sebastian? Standing up, she considered her options. There was no lock on the light tower. She could never run fast enough to outdistance them all. Trapped like a rat, she could only wait. Could she maybe push them over the railing? Would she have the guts to? Shove another human over to their death? Her stomach flipped. Beside her Madeline materialized, drawing her attention to the house. Trembling, Raven gripped the rail and looked over the edge. Could a ghost scare them away? “Go after them, Madeline,” she stuttered. “You might be the only thing they fear.” Maybe. Madeline raised an arm to point to the house once more, slowly fading. Barking reached her ears as Salzburg broke from the trees at the corner of the house, racing for the trio, growling fiercely. Her hand pressed to her mouth in horror, Raven watched as Salzburg leapt through the air, aiming for Arthur. Connecting with his arm, he swung his weight, dragging the man’s arm, pulling yells of pain from him. Finally Arthur shook the dog off and Salzburg went rolling across the ground.  Author Bio: Ryan Jo Summers is a North Carolina author who specializes in writing romances with a twist. Love stories blended with inspirational, paranormal, suspense or time travel--or several at once. She also writes non-fiction for regional periodicals. Ryan's dad is a songwriter and his aunt wrote poetry so she claims she came by her writing skill honestly. Apparently it's in the genes. Her hobbies include bird-watching, houseplants, poetry and yard work. She loves to gather with friends, hike in the forest with her dog, paint ceramics and canvas and work on wiggly word find puzzles. She lives in a 1920 cottage with a menagerie of pets. Living in the mountains, she dreams of the shore and frequently uses the water as scenes for her stories. More about Ryan Jo can be discovered at her website, Home or her blog http://summersrye.wordpress.com Ryan Jo Summers WEBSITE: www.ryanjosummers.com BLOG: http:summersrye.wordpress.com FB: www.facebook.com/pages/Ryan-Jo-Summers-author-page/312875648810797 Proud author with Soul Mate Publishing & Black Lyon Publishing Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Chasing-Painted-Skies-Ryan-Summers-ebook/dp/B0189B2PB8/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8  The conversation started with, " Hey how are you enjoying the summer?" Continuing with "Maybe we should meet. We seem to have a lot in common." This conversation was from a lonely American having just transferred to Toronto Canada for a job opportunity. One night with the help from a glass of wine or beer he surfed the internet and settled on a dating site called Ok Cupid. This was where he spotted my daughter's profile. A proposal happened a year or two later with immediate wedding plans. (I did not question why) A wedding in Toronto, another one in Reno. Alas, a rush for a venue and a quick wedding began. My daughter had taken my husband and I to a restaurant to look for venues for the wedding. Sitting down for dinner and ordering at one venue site, my daughter informed us that after the wedding they were moving to San Francisco where her fiancé was just offered a job. He was absent at the dinner afraid or worried it would not go well. Needless to say both my daughter and I cried at the dinner. And that was when I realized my apron strings had never been severed. When we cried the waiter was concerned seeing two women crying until we told him the situation. He was relieved that it was nothing serious but understood my dilemma which made me cry even more. "You can go and visit her!" The waiter said excitedly. That sentiment would continue to haunt me. For the next little while I was gripped with panic and anxiety as the weeks went by to plan the wedding. Actually they planned the wedding as they tasted the food, ordered the meals, decorations, arranged the flowers not to mention the wedding dress and decided on George Restaurant on Queen Street as my husband and I paid. But nothing ever goes smoothly as we age. My mother had health issues almost every week as we took her to the doctor for unplanned appointments. My husband's mother wasn't doing well either and I did not know which way to turn. "Don't you dare die on us before the wedding," I'd tell my mother. Okay I also became mean. Then with all the stress something wonderful happened—I'd lost weight. It happened when I tried on an old one piece black bathing suit I had for years that I could never wear because it was too small. As I was about to throw it away I tried it on and it fit! Imagine losing weight without even trying. But my mother still wasn't feeling well and then I got that early morning call from my sister saying mum was in the hospital with chest pains. Meanwhile my husband was busy with his mother who had just fallen and could no longer stay where she resided the last ten years. She needed a nursing home immediately. Would the wedding ever take place? Somehow though everything falls into place. Even though my mother was put in a hospital ward with two men, the next day they took my ninety three old mother into the operating room to fix a blocked artery. My mother's only request was to make sure she could dance at her granddaughter's wedding. The wonderful doctors had put it on her chart. Two days later she was able to walk out of the hospital and go on as before excluding marathons. Then they found a nursing home for my mother-in-law, a five minute drive from our house. I was relieved and had some chocolate along with trying on my black bathing suit that still fit. Life at the moment was wonderful. But when my daughter and I went for the fitting of the wedding dress; it was slightly off. The style had been taken away by being too loose. I failed by not telling her this when she was unsure. I failed as a mother. It was when my other daughter who saw the picture of the dress on the cell phone that was being altered, demanded it had to be fixed and that it was not right. This was also confirmed by my sister. My daughter made the call to the dressmaker the next day. "So I will fix it," the dressmaker said calmly. " Next week you can wait while I do it."—Less than a week before the wedding. My anxiety started again thinking about the wedding dress and how I had failed my daughter. I should have been the one to say the dress was not right—I was the mother. My mother was not feeling well again and I took her to the doctor. Less than a week before the wedding. Between the wedding dress and my mother, I was getting plenty of anxiety attacks. Wasn't preparing for a wedding supposed to be fun? That night I tried on my black bathing suit which still fit. At least something was going right. However things weren't going that great for my future son-in-law. His best man couldn't find his passport the morning he was supposed to fly to Toronto with his fiancée. He had to miss the flight and drive to San Francisco from Reno to issue a new passport A.S.A.P. He somehow made his direct evening flight from San Francisco to Toronto. But a woman got sick on the plane and they made an emergency landing at Chicago airport in the early morning hours. (He could have gone to Australia in that amount of time.) Needless to say he landed safely in Toronto around four in the morning and at five he made it to the hotel. Just when we thought everything was going smoothly, my future son-in-law's five year nephew got sick and had to miss the ceremony dinner for the immediate family and best friend on a Thursday night. That meant that one of the parents would have to stay home after flying here with the kids and miss the wedding vows. But again everything fell into place and a wonderful babysitter was found and the parents could attend the dinner. And the children were able to attend the wedding party on Saturday where there was dinner and dancing and speeches with family and friends. But most importantly the kids were able to visit Niagara Falls and experience Canadian maple fudge. The wedding was a hit, the venue superb, the wedding dress just gorgeous, the food amazing and the dancing great! And my mother made it to the wedding. So perhaps stay tuned for the wedding party adventure in Reno. Find out if my anxiety disappeared? Did our luggage with the wedding dress in it arrive in Reno on time for the party? Did the best man ever find his passport? Did anyone get sick in Reno? Did I fit into my black bathing suit after Reno and San Francisco? And find out who won the maple fudge contest for the best maple flavor between Virginia City USA and Niagara on The Lake, Canada. And to all writers: Who was the author my daughters were listening to on their podcast on the flight to Reno, the author with only a few sales under her belt, that saw a photo in a magazine of Brittany Spears carrying her book . . . ? (No, it wasn't me)
 I am excited to invite Samanthya Wyatt to my blog and introduce Samanthya's One and Only Series- Book Three Thank you Iris, for having me on your blog. |
AuthorResiding in Toronto, ON. I love to write, travel with my husband, worry about my kids, and befriend the dogs in my neighborhood. I have a passion for all things romance and fiction - and I am excited for my new book release. Thank you for stopping by my blog! Archives
September 2016
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