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Warm Feet

I hate having cold feet and this time of year that can be a problem, even in Alabama. Years ago my sister-in-law, Jean, knitted me and her brother wool socks. If you’ve never worn wool socks, especially those lovingly hand made for you, you have no idea of the difference they can make with frozen toes.

I learned to knit when I was nine years old. Jean encouraged me to learn to knit socks. I was hesitant because you do it with three needles like these.

It seemed too daunting to learn, but I did. Thank you, Jean! I’ve made over fifty pair of socks since I first started. They’re the ideal lap project, especially in the Alabama summers when I can’t stand to have a sweater or afghan in my lap working while I watch TV. They’re small enough I can take them on trips to work on in the car.

I like to have pictures of people wearing what I’ve made for them. Some of the shier recipients have sent me pictures only of their feet. One person sent a picture of their feet in red socks and their basset hound’s head–he was sniffing the socks. Two of my sisters have enough socks for every day of the week, maybe a few more. A couple of special friends seem delighted to open their Christmas package to find a new pair of warm socks.

I enjoy the comfortable rhythm of knitting on three needles. I’ve made one particular pattern so many times I know it by heart. The added bonus of knitting while you’re watching TV is that your hands are busy so you can’t snack unless you make a conscious choice to put down your needles. I confess that sometimes I make the choice, but it slows the snack intake a bit!

A little Author News:

Landing On Her Feet, my second novel that came out July 2, 2023, is one of three finalists in the traditionally published fiction category for the Southern Christian Writer’s Conference notable book award for 2023. Judging looks at writing quality, publishing quality, and inspirational message. I’m over the moon excited to be a finalist. The winner will be announced February 10th.

And I turned in the final galleys for my third Lansdale based cozy mystery, Those Ties That Bind. I hope to have a publication date soon. I’ll keep you posted!

Wishing you good friends, fun, love, joy, and warm feet in 2024! Enjoy!

The Gift of Family

The best gift I got was when my sister, Lori, was born. She was the first of my nine siblings. I love being part of a large and loving family. The second wonderful gift I got was when I married my husband and became part of his, then much smaller, family. Holidays are a time when I especially think about both of those amazing gifts of love.

When I married we began the tradition of one year with my family at Christmas and the next with my in-laws. As my siblings married, they fell into the same rotation so we could, hopefully, all be together at least every other year at Christmas. It worked well until my parents divorced. Initially, my mother moved to California, but once she came back to the Midwest, every other year split between Mother’s or Daddy’s. A little more complicated bookkeeping, but manageable. As grandchildren arrived, schedules became more unwieldy and some years we weren’t all together.

Since I’ve lost both my parents, my family focuses on summertime reunions to try to get together or the occasional Schnepper girl weekend somewhere warm in winter–but that is just siblings and spouses. The last time all my siblings were together was for a funeral years ago. In Canada. It makes me sad but time marches on and weaving together everyone’s schedules and managing within their means can be very hard.

My husband’s family started small and grew prolifically. He was the baby with only one brother and one sister–both much older. His sister has two married children and one grandchild. His brother had one son and two girls who are all married and have taken then Biblical directive to go forth and multiply quite seriously. Most of them live in or near the small town my husband grew up in. That fact makes orchestrating a gathering slightly easier but everyone still has to make the effort to come together.

Last week we celebrated an early Christmas at a Mexican restaurant with my husband’s family. We couldn’t find a free day for 100% of the target attendees but we did for most of them. People who had to work or conduct youth group managed to get together and visit with us before the main event. We so appreciated their efforts to see us while we were in town. We missed those who lived farther away but many of them had been home at Thanksgiving this year. There were thirty-eight of us for dinner. Lots of hugs. Lots of smiles. And Christmas joy at being together as a family. We were in a separate room off the main dining room so we could move around to talk. It was wonderful. Our Christmas celebration on the day will be just the two of us this year starting a new tradition.

I know that everyone can’t get to see their families at this blessed time of year. Distance, work, sickness, financial worries–all put up impediments to getting together. I hope you’ll consider making a family experience with the friends who are near or volunteer to help someone who is alone and share the love you have. Embrace the joy of the season and let it shine from your heart!

As Tiny Tim would say, “God bless us every one!” Merry Christmas to you! May the New Year bring you peace and happiness.

With Gratitude

This is the time of year when we focus on things we are thankful for instead of what is wrong in the world. It’s a good thing to do because the best things in your life can be overwhelmed by the nagging aggravations, day-to-day troubles, and the just pure evil that is out there buffeting your ship of life with high winds and roaring waves.

I am thankful for all my people: my husband who perseveres at my side all these decades, for my extended family including those I acquired by marriage, for many friends who have become part of my family, and for my blog followers and readers! I’m living proof of having lots of good food to eat and shelter from the weather. I’m thankful for many interests that enrich my life like my author journey, spinning, helping on the railroad, weaving, knitting, crocheting, and generally crafting. If I don’t have to leave my house or watch the TV news, life is truly great.

The picture shows a symbol of something else I’m especially thankful for this year.

Some of you who have had to dig up your yard for any reason may recognize the brightly colored flags mixed with the silk flowers. Those are marking the water, gas, cable, phone, power and other buried lines that run to your house. This summer we had an adventure that started with our phone line (yes I still have a landline) and internet service going out completely for five days due to a fiber optics contractor laying yet another buried line and cutting through our lines in the process. For over four months we ran on a temporary line that lay across the neighbor’s driveway and along the gutter bypassing the break point on the main line. We were waiting for the new line to be buried.

Patience is not my strong suit, as some of you know, but persistence is my forte! We experienced the dismal state of today’s customer service, being repeatedly lied to, and general incompetence. I can’t tell the details of the full service restoration here (there are too many lawsuits possible) but after two rounds of flag placement and line painting my husband said an immovable object (the telecom company) met the unstoppable force of Kim Ligon. I am especially thankful that the seventy-two year old technician–who was able to get it working when others failed–had not retired yet! I wonder who will be able to make things work when he does!

May your annoyances be few, your triumphs many, and the people you love most in this world are close enough to hug you! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Enjoy!

Follow the Signs

One of the things I enjoy when we travel is reading the signs posted in front of churches along the way. We like to avoid the interstates when possible so we ride more on two lane roads populated with little and not so little churches.

This church isn’t from any farther away than my basement. It’s one I built for my husband’s model railroad layout.

I often wonder why pastors want to post comments on the board in front. Is it to attract new members? To remind existing members to come to church? To give a sense of the preacher’s sense of humor so you’ll know what to expect at sermon time? Some comments are clever, some miss the mark, and some are a little too cryptic for me. Recently, I’ve come across these:

Be kind to your enemies. It’ll mess with their minds. Hmm where is that in the Bible?

Don’t make me come down there. – God It might be good if he did!

Members are expected. Guests are welcome. Is there an attendance problem here?

The Law is not a moral compass. Okay not sure about what this means.

Give Satan an inch and he’ll become your ruler. LOL

Jesus is my Rock and I’m on the Roll! And when it’s called up yonder you’ll be there!

Free ticket to Heaven. Inquire inside. Is it free? I thought it was prepaid!

Prayer works. Ain’t it the truth!

A little food for thought.

A bit of author news: I recently signed a contract for my third novel with The Wild Rose Press. It is called Those Ties That Bind. I expect to start edits the first week of November. I’m very excited. It’s another mystery set in my favorite small town, Lansdale, Wisconsin and some of the characters you met earlier will be there as well as some new ones. I can’t wait to share it with you. You know these things take time so it will be out sometime in 2024. Thanks for coming along on my journey. I appreciate the company! Hug somebody today just because you can! Enjoy!

My Readers

One of the fun things about being an author is getting to meet my readers, both virtually and in person. I greatly value and appreciate my blog followers who buy and read (and review) my books but there’s always room for more at the bookshelf!

In May I was invited to spend an afternoon with the Illumen bookclub and their many friends in Moundville, Alabama. We had a lovely lunch and then discussed my debut novel, “Polly’s List”. I’m not sure I have the words adequate to describe the humbling and awesome experience it was to be in a room with such palpable love from women who truly enjoyed my work. Several of them came in July for my Tuscaloosa book signing to get “Landing On Her Feet” and they left the bunnies you see here since they learned I collect bunnies. Thanks Peggy and Cheryl.

One of my readers, the mother of a friend, even sat with me at the July book signing while her daughter was shopping. Thanks Mrs. Ammons!

I saw on my publisher’s website that the Shell Harbour City Library in New South Wales, Australia bought my books to share with their patrons so I’ll have Australian readers!

Below is a picture of new reader friends I’ve only met in email. They are the O’Fallon Missouri Landing’s Bookworm Buddies with Margie O’Quinn reading them “Landing On Her Feet”. They already finished “Polly’s List “. My husband’s cousin, Mary (in the middle in black and white) recommended my books to them because they were engaging without being offensive. Thanks so much! They’re already asking when the next one is coming. Thanks for all the encouragement! I hope it will be in 2024. Birthing a book all the way to print once you do the labor to get it to an editor takes almost as long as having a human baby! Hugs and blessings to my Buddies! Thank you for wanting more of my books!

My author journey continues to be more than just fun. It has been a blessing to me to hear from my readers and to know I touched their hearts in a positive way. Sometimes I still can’t believe it has really happened. Dreams do come true if you do the work. Don’t be discouraged. Keep trying. And thank you for continuing to read my stories and share your thoughts with me! Enjoy!

My Uncle John

This week my father’s youngest brother, my Uncle John, escaped his pain leaving us thankful for his peace but sad for our loss. I’m very thankful we got to spend time with him at the family reunion in May. A back injury and a nasty recent round of COVID are going to keep us from traveling right now.

My memories of Uncle John as a little girl were of a gangly teenager and young man with blond hair and twinkling eyes above an ever present smile. He looked more like the Shipley side of the family than the Schnepper.

John was only fourteen when I was born and before he was twenty he had four little nieces by his oldest brother. Daddy used to “sic” us on his baby brother whenever we’d get ready to leave Grandma and Grandpa’s. We’d go around kissing everyone goodbye including Uncle John who would turn bright red and try to escape the horde of little girls ready for a kiss. The more he fought us, the harder Daddy laughed, and the more determined we became to get him kissed. He usually willingly gave up in the end resulting in a lap full of nieces.

John wasn’t a morning person. He liked to sleep in as much as possible. When we were in town, some of my sisters thought that was an invitation to jump on his bed to wake him, kissing and tickling him until he finally gave in and got up. It was kind of tradition even after everyone was way old enough to behave better!

John liked fast things whether cars or motorcycles. He had a passion for flying and racked up hours as a military helicopter pilot and later as a charter airline pilot. I remember his picture in Grandma’s house in his formal uniform, quite handsome and dashing. He came home to make his love of flying a career doing crop dusting, freight services, and charters with his company. He was a flight instructor and infected Daddy with the flying bug too. After he retired from flying, he worked with his brother Gordon on the family farm transformation into a vineyard. And even spent a stint as a cross-country trucker.

He didn’t marry until he was almost thirty-one. He and Judy made a great team. They headed a massive volunteer effort at Thanksgiving and Christmas through their. Church preparing and delivering hundreds of holiday meals to those in need. Their sons, Dodd and Jay, followed in John’s footsteps driving race cars and even building a race track. Eventually, the boys married and grandchildren, and even great grandchildren joined the family. All of them a source of joy for John and Judy.

The defining characteristic of Uncle John was always his smile. For most of his life he never seemed to be without it. Always a smile and a good story to tell. Usually a funny story. His was a whole face smile from his chin to his crinkling eyes. A beautiful smile. Below is one of my favorite pictures of him from my wedding.

Smiling and telling my brand new husband something that made us all laugh in the reception line. Probably something like “it’s too late to run now!”

For the last several years, there have been more and more times when John wasn’t smiling. His personal health issues were a challenge and then he lost Judy. More doctors and physical issues. His kids and grandkids were nearby but he was still mostly alone. He wasn’t a man meant to be alone. He loved people too much for that kind of solitary life.

This week my Uncle John’s smile came back to stay. And he’s got a flock of angels around him listening to a funny story they’ve heard before but he can still make them laugh. Out loud. We love you and we miss you. Rest in Peace and keep smiling!

Oh, Deer

It’s a little early, but last week a doe strolled from one side of our cul de sac to the other. About thirty seconds later a little white spotted fawn on legs so spindly you wondered how they could carry him went as fast as he could to catch up with her. I’m glad we haven’t got much traffic on our dead end short street. The fawn didn’t hesitate to jump into the street and certainly wouldn’t have stopped for a car.

Later that same day, a clearly pregnant doe, wandered through the woods in our side yard stopping to munch a tuft of grass here and there. Usually, we don’t see the fawns until mid-August but Mother Nature has been running a little ahead all year so I’m not surprised. More than once we’ve been delightfully surprised by twins.

We discovered soon after we moved in that we had four legged neighbors who were used to being fed by the prior homeowner. Our house sets at the end of the street with woods on three sides and a stream at the bottom of the hill. When we first got here no one was on the far hill across the side yard. It was the ideal place for the deer and we even had wild turkeys.

For many years, we made a regular trip to the feed store to buy a fifty pound sack of shelled corn. It had to be shelled. Those were spoiled deer we inherited with the house. They didn’t know corn came on a cob. And they were a wee bit demanding! One doe in particular would go stand in the clearing under the bird house and wait to be fed. If she saw you watching her from the kitchen window she would paw the ground with her front foot, bow her head twice and snort. We decided that meant “Get your butt out here and feed me” in native Alabama deerspeak.

We were well trained. We’d go across the deck, down to the garage and get a pitcher full of corn. When they heard the garage door go up, the whole herd came out of the woods because they thought it was chow time. Boy, did they look confused and a little put out with us when we were just going some where in the car. They would stand and watch us drive up the drive way in disbelief until we were out of sight.

We learned that having corn means mice will appear to snatch up any that you dribble when you’re scooping it out of its sealed container. Some mice took to storing corn kernels in the wheel well of my husband’s car. Having mice means your attract snakes–everybody’s got to eat. The evening I ran into a snake on the deck on the way to the garage I screamed until my brave husband got the shovel and wacked its head off. It was colored like a copperhead but it had a spoon shaped head instead of a triangular one. It was an Alabama pine snake. He never should have come on my deck!

We stopped feeding the deer shelled corn. Of course they still ate every flowering plant I tried to put out, but they did that even when we were feeding them corn. They even ate a knock out rose bush to a stick out of the ground, thorns and all. They left the gardenia bush alone because they don’t like waxy leaves and the fire ant mound at its base proved to be a mighty deterent. More houses have been built in the area and that cut down on deer traffic too. We still get a few like the ones last week. I wanted to get a picture but I wasn’t quick enough so here’s one of a fawn from several years ago.

Happy August! Be on the lookout for youngsters crossing the street without looking! It’s that time of year. Enjoy!

Polly is a Big Sister!

As many of you know, I’m the oldest of ten children. I’ve been a big sister since I was almost fifteen months old. I don’t remember ever being alone. I am sure there were times growing up when I wished to be an only child—a mythical being I could hardly imagine. But those were fleeting thoughts because I love being the first of my tribe of siblings. 

Now, my debut novel, Polly’s List, has a sibling too! Polly doesn’t have to be an only book child. She now has a sister named Landing On Her Feet. I am truly thankful to all of you who read my first book and to my many encouragers who helped to breathe life into Katrina and Chase’s story. I can’t wait for you to meet all these Lansdale denizens and to get reacquainted with some you met with Polly. Landing On Her Feet is a rated G, suspenseful romance with a generous splash of faith. 

Kat Russell narrowly escaped death at Dirk Crowe’s hands six years ago. He’s out of prison. To protect her family, she must flee Philadelphia—the only home she’s ever known—with her five-year-old son, Timmy. Is Wisconsin far enough away to escape evil? 

Chase Merrick, father of Timmy’s new best friend, wants to help. What is Kat hiding? Why does she insist she must face whatever it is alone? 

When can Kat stop constantly looking back over her shoulder? Will secrets and shame stop her from accepting Chase’s protection? Or unite them in the face of danger to keep their sons safe? 

As with my first Wild Rose Press publication, this book is available at your favorite online e-tailer. I’ll provide links below. It is available in paperback and as an e-book beginning today. If you are in the area, you can purchase one at the Tuscaloosa Midtown Barnes and Noble at my book signing July 15th noon- 4 and they will be stocking it after that. If you aren’t in the area, but would like the author’s autograph for your hard copy, please let me know and I’ll send you an autographed book plate to attach to the inside cover. 

I hope you will join Kat Russell and Chase Merrick on their adventure. I am so grateful that Polly already has a sister. She’ll never remember being alone either. I’m hoping she’ll be the head of a large tribe of siblings too! Thank you for your continued love and support. Enjoy!

Landing on Her Feet Links

Amazon

https:// www.amazon.com/Landing-Her-Feet-Janine-Ligon/dp/1509249737

Barnes and Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/landing-on-her-feet-kim-janine-ligon/1143205488

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123737915-landing-on-her-feet/

Bookbub:

Https://www.bookbub.com/books/landing-on-her-feet-by-kim-janine-ligon

A Father’s Love

My father loved being a veterinarian. He had a large and small animal practice in southwestern Wisconsin for over fifty years. He always encouraged his children to find a career they would love as much as he did his. But as much as he reveled in what he did, he loved his family even more. 

This is a nostalgic time of year packed with family reunions, anniversaries, and Father’s Day. This year it’s all hit me especially hard since it’s the tenth anniversary of Daddy leaving us. I was blessed with always knowing my father loved me. He wasn’t shy about reminding me of that fact. He loved all ten of his children and made each of us feel special in our own way. He loved the ones who joined the family through marriage, adoption, and friendship. It is a testament to that love that eight of his children, including me, one daughter-in-law, one ex-wife, and three colleagues he mentored all spoke at his funeral.

The night before I left home to go to college hundreds of miles away, my father said he loved me and was proud of me. He told me to remember that I could always come back home. There was nothing I could ever do that would close that door. Talk about a boost of confidence. Knowing Daddy always had my back, I never had to return home in defeat. 

The organ played. The mothers were seated. The love of my life stood at the altar with his groomsmen. The flower girl and ring bearer were coaxed down the aisle. My sisters Lori and Ann walked down the path and took their places. Daddy took my arm and said, “I’ll go with you if you want to leave.” I shook my head and said, “I want to stay.” Then he said, “Okay, then smile. It’s your party!” And down the aisle we walked forty-eight years ago this month.

We bought our first house. A tiny, little, white house just 24 x 24 with one bedroom, one bathroom, a dining room, a kitchen, a living room, and one itsy bitsy closet on a large lot in a small town near the university we attended. My father-in-law assisted by my husband after he finished work each day and a fourteen year old nephew built a one room addition on the back. It was to be my husband’s study and two large, much needed closets.

Daddy was anxious to help us get settled in our first home. In truth, I think he was a little jealous that my father-in-law had been so involved in the expansion of our little nest. He was in town at the time when the existing roof line had to be cut into to marry the roof for the new room under it. He wanted to work, to make sure he’d contributed to the project. 

My husband and father-in-law were concerned that it was threatening rain in the afternoon. Not the best time to peel the roof away from the walls on the existing structure. But Daddy was only there for the one day and was certain they would be done in plenty of time before the rains came. Daddy convincingly pled his case and against prevailing better judgment, they cut into the roof. The thunder roared and the heavens opened up and it poured rain. 

In the dining room, water started running off the wagon wheel light fixture and pooling on the table. I ran, in tears, to put pans, bowls, buckets—whatever would capture the runoff—under the stream. I was crying and screaming for them to do something. A plastic tarp was stretched across the open roof. It wouldn’t stay in place. The wind was too high. Soon, the rain stopped pouring into the dining room. Anchors were put in place to hold the plastic tight against the gaping maw.

Live anchors!

The blurry plastic covered figure on the left is my father-in-law and the shirtless figure on the right is Daddy. Luckily, the storm passed quickly and no lightening found the dads on the roof! When the rain stopped, the construction successfully continued.

Daddy, you would have loved this year’s family reunion with 87 attendees. We had great fun on a perfect day. You were missed, but your love blanketed us.

RIP. Love you!

Don’t Pinch Me

This week I had another first on my journey as an author. My book was read as a book club selection and I was asked to answer questions about it and about the publishing process. 

It was a bit of a softball since it is a book club I am a member of and this was only it’s third meeting and the second book they’d read as a group. All of that didn’t matter. It was a first for me. Kim Janine Ligon got to talk about being a published author. I couldn’t have had a better place to have my first book club appearance. 

I was nervous. So much so I ate a big lunch so I could skip dinner right before the meeting. I’d met with moderator last week and we’d drafted some reader questions about the book. Exactly like the kind you would find in the back of a famous author’s book published by a big name publishing company. 

The moderator was fascinated by the fact that, like my character Polly, I am a spinner. So I brought pictures of my spinning wheel and loom and various bags of different types of fibers: Merino, Corriedale, Zwartbles, Chinchilla, Hemp, Cotton, Cashmere and some sample yarns I’d created. I explained one of the fun parts of spinning is naming your unique yarns. Like my two ply yarn made of one ply of a yarn from a fiber named Sycamore and another ply of a yarn from one named Mojito, I dubbed Cocktails Under the Trees. 

We talked about my journey to publication and even had time for some of the questions about the book. One woman said she knew who CJ was because she had a son like him whose heart had been softened by love. The women had such kind words for Polly’s List. I was humbled to hear them. Several women were encouraged by my success with The Wild Rose Press and had renewed interest in pursuing their own publishing dreams. At one point, I was overwhelmed and a little teary. It was amazing and I so appreciate it.  

I have an invitation from another group. Next month I’ll be making an author appearance at a second book club meeting. I’m doubly excited after such a wonderful experience this week.

My journey keeps getting more interesting. This  July 3rd my second book will be published. “Landing On Her Feet” is also set in Lansdale, Wisconsin. While it’s not a series, you’ll recognize some of the locations and some of the people you met in “Polly’s List.”

The extra special exciting news is if you are in the Tuscaloosa, Alabama area you will be able to come to the 

Barnes and Noble in Midtown on 

Saturday, July 15th from Noon – 4 p.m. this is a revised date!

and get your autographed copy of “Landing On Her Feet” at my book signing before it will be available to ship from online retailers on July 3rd.

I hope no one pinches me. I don’t want to wake up from this dream!!!