Author Archives: Lisa

About Lisa

Pinning the wilderness of my imagination, one Pin at a time. I love hiking, camping, watching my boys fish, and taking long walks with my yellow labs, Taylor and Mandi. I enjoy cooking when the mood hits, and not only have I published novels, but I'm the master of redesigning just about anything. I’m the DIY author who has made Idaho her home for 27 years, and I can't wait to spend another 27 years here.

Eleven things you probably don’t know about me…

So, a few weeks ago Sam and I were chatting…okay, it was more like she was being my ‘life editor’, but that’s a whole other story all together.Anyway, the topic came up that I’m pretty open with you about myself, my likes and dislikes, and probably more things about my life in general than you’d care to know. Sam challenged me to come up with at least ten things that you probably didn’t know about me, not that you cared, but I figured I could do it quite easily and came up with ten, plus a bonus one.

So to get the ball rolling I thought I’d start with things you do know about me.

Homemade caramel…yum!

Things you probably already know…

I’m a carmelholic, yup, I have a serious addiction to the sugary sweet stuff.

I’m an author who writes YA Novels.

I live in Idaho with my husband, two boys and Crazi Mandi, my yellow lab.

I love just about anything related to romances…movies, books, songs.

Eleven things you probably didn’t know about me…

Yup, that’s me in my
favorite leopard shirt.

1. I was born in Ohio and moved around a bit spending a good majority of my K-12 years in Colorado. Okay, I moved there when I was in third grade, but close enough.

2. I am the youngest in the family, yes, the baby. I have an older sister and brother and the stories I could tell…

3. I once got into a fist fight. Yeah, you read that right, a fist fight with the neighbor girl. Let’s just say my sister made me do it and the girl got what she deserved. I was bullied and well, had enough.

4. I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I started out babysitting and then moved up to Dairy King, not the Queen, but the King. 

5. My father insisted that I knew how to maintain my car. I can change oil, replace brakes, install new gaskets, give a tune up and change a tire with the best of them.

6. I begged for a flute as a child, my parents bought me a piano. I took lessons, but my loving siblings used to close the cover on my hands while I practiced…sweet, right?

7. I’ve been known to rip out drywall, tile, reroof, frame, lay hardwood, and paint just about any surface imaginable. I even once made a coffee table out of a garden gate…the hubby hated it. I kept telling him it was shabby sheik, but he didn’t buy it.

My garden gate coffee table…that I no longer own.

8. I love photography. My favorite subject is nature, flowers, bees, ladybugs, trees, leaves, and if you can name it I’ve probably taken a picture of it. What can I say? I’m an artist at heart.

Me and Santa

9. I’m related to Santa Clause, he’s the hubby’s uncle. And here’s your picture proof.

10. I hate spiders! As a child, my brother locked me in a crawl space and spiders were crawling all over me…hate them with a passion. I once even slugged the hubby in the face while I slept because I dreamed a spider was beside me. I laughed, he didn’t… 

And finally…

11. Like my book character, Cheyenne, I have the phrase ‘tease me’ tattooed across my forehead in some sort of invisible ink that I can’t see but others do…complete strangers will harass me, and of course I give it back.

So there you have it…eleven things that you probably didn’t know about me and now do. *The sound of thundering footsteps are heard in the background* Hey!! Wait!!! Don’t run away,  I have more to tell!

 

BYD Security…everyone should have it! NOT!

BYD Security on the job

BYD security is amazing, I think… What is it you ask? It’s Big Yellow Dog Security, yup that’s right, Big Yellow Dog who also happens to be named Crazy Mandi.

It’s a twenty-four hour service, seven days a week and could possibly save your life…um, well more like probably take my life in my case, but regardless it was activated in full last night and it went something like this:

Me: Dead asleep until BYD security’s alarm went off.

BYD (aka Crazy Mandi): Woof, thump, claw! Woof, thump, claw! (the pregnant BYD lodged herself under my bed and was fighting to get out and do her job)

Me: Eyes fly open and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. BYD has gone off randomly before.

BYD: Woof, thump, claw! Woof, thump, claw! Woof, thump, claw!

Me: Struggling to see because I sleep with my contacts in, can’t find eye drops.

In training

Hubby: Deep voice from bathroom, “What’s going on?”

Me: You activated BYD because you went in to the bathroom! Glance at clock, 3:30 a.m.

BYD: Woof, thump, claw! Woof, thump, claw! Woof, thump, claw!

Hubby: All I did was belch!

Me: “Dang, stupid pregnant dog! Mandi! Stop!”

Teenage son in other room: Snore…

BYD: Woof, thump, claw!

Ding-dong in the distance

Hubby: “What?!”

Me: Jumps out of bed to find out that BYD Security has emerged at the same time. Trips, but recovers, and reaches over to grab lounge pants while trying to avoid activated, pregnant, and fierce BYD only to fall over said laundry baskets that were there to remind me to put away the clean clothes in the morning…

Her best “You talking to me look”

BYD: WOOF! Darts down stairs leaving us in the dust.

Teenage son: Snore…

Me: Finds lounge pants and throws them on not knowing or caring that they are probably inside out and backwards. Stumbles down stairs.

Hubby: “Wait, I’m coming!”

BYD: WOOF, WOOF, WOOF!

Me: Peeks out side window to see that a cop car is sitting in front of my house with its lights on. I blink and then remember that teenage son is upstairs sleeping and other son is four hours away at school. Deep sigh.

Spying on neighbors, and yes there
are holes in my fence.

BYD: WOOF, WOOF, WOOF!

Hubby: “Hold on, let me grab her!” Struggles to find the off button on BYD only to realize there is none.

Teenage son: Snore…

Me: Opens door slowly, and officer steps back. Probably because I can’t fully open my eyes because I never found my eye drops. Secondly because I likely had green gasses coming from my mouth from the mexican food I’d eaten the night before. And finally, I’m sure, because my hair looked like a batch of monkey’s had their way with it.

BYD: Growl, woof, struggle!

Officer: Um, I’m sorry to wake you, but I just wanted to let you know that your garage door is open and since it allows access to your house…

Me: I blink and recover quickly. “Thanks…”

Hubby: “Crap!”

Officer: “Just want to let you know…” Saunters away looking over his shoulder.

Me: “Oops…”

Hubby: Releases BYD security and heads towards garage.

Yup, that’s what I’m releasing upon the world

BYD: Woof! Bark! Snarl!

Me: As hubby returns I shrug. “Must have been all the margaritas I had last night, sorry.”

Hubby: “Um, you only had one…”

After it was all said and done, and BYD Security had settled down I realized the full magnitude of what I’d done. In just a few short weeks I was expanding BYD Security and I was now going to have to change my name, move, and assume another identity. Because once the new owners figure out what they’d gotten, well, yes, they’d try and return the product to it’s original source.

Teenage son: Snore…

Resting after her BYD Security call at 3:30 a.m.

BYD: This morning: Snore….

Me: Making third batch of coffee…and begging for you to forgive me for all the typo’s I’m sure this thing has. Brain still isn’t function properly yet…

I blinked…

 

It was only yesterday when he came home with us, that little black haired, blue eyed, bundle. It was only yesterday that he fit in the crook of my arm and only yesterday that he gave his first smile.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that his first words were da-da, it was only yesterday that he was pulling all the socks out of the drawer just because.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that he was playing in the box instead of on the Playschool slide I’d just brought home. It was only yesterday that he was running around the backyard with his daddy giggling.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that he started kindergarten and I cried as he got on the bus and drove away. It was only yesterday that I had his first parent/teacher conference and read what he thought of me… “She’s a good cooker.”
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that he started playing football and it was only yesterday that I was sitting on the sidelines cheering him on.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that he was entering middle school and was watching out for his little brother. It was only yesterday he was helping me tile the bathroom.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that he began high school and it was only yesterday that he learned to drive.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that I walked upon the football field in his senior year, and gushed with pride as they announced his name. It was only yesterday that I watched him walk down the aisle and get his diploma and it was only yesterday that he began his college journey.
I blinked…
It was only yesterday that I heard him announce his plans, his future set and departure final.  It was only yesterday that I cried the tears as I said goodbye. It was only yesterday that my heart swelled with pride and I realized the journey I’d witnessed. It was only yesterday that I hugged him one last time.
It was only yesterday and I blinked…

I have an addiction…

I have a confession to make. It may surprise some, but others will understand as they suffer from the same type of illness that I do…I have an addiction to caramel.

There, I’ve said it and already I feel much better.

Now mind you it’s just not any caramel that I have an addiction to, no. I’m what one would call a Caramel Diva. Those Kraft caramels, well they just won’t do. The gooey running caramel in candies… yuck. I will except nothing else but the highest quality caramel readily available at my local Cash & Carry warehouse and I blame my sister-in-law for this addiction.

It started out simply enough. She talked me into trying a caramel frappe from Starbucks. I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker, didn’t for many years really care for the stuff. But I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I caved… that was day that my life changed.

It was a life changing event for me, as that was the day I started licking the creamy goodness from the lids. Yes, another confession… I lick the caramel from the lids on my caramel frappes. You have no idea the looks I’ve had to endure over the years, the ridicule that has fallen upon me for my actions… the caramel that has stuck to the tip of my nose. Sigh… but yet I endure.

Not only did my sister-in-law introduce me to those sinful delights, she also brought me a five pound brick of caramel many years later. I’d love the caramel on my frappe, however, eating caramel chewy candies straight or from the liquid stuff they sell at the grocery stores–I’d not touch them with a ten foot pole. But this, this was like a gift from the caramel gods themselves. You have not tasted caramel until you have tasted the caramel from Peter’s. You will have thought you died and gone to heaven.

She is evil I tell you–pure evil and I love her dearly because if she’d not have dropped this on my counter I wouldn’t have known what heaven tasted like. Now with this said… I only allow myself to purchase one five pound brick per year. Why you ask? Because within a weeks time, if I’d allowed it, I would devour the entire brick completely by myself. I don’t share, I’m the Caramel Diva, if you come within a foot of my caramel brick I will bite your fingers off. No really, but then again….

So, when my allotted brick has been used up for the year, I switch over to what I would call a lesser evil. Caramel apple suckers. I call them the lesser evil because it takes me longer to eat them. I can’t chew through them, they have to be savored, enjoyed. I snack on them when I’ve hit that afternoon sugar low and I’m sitting in my writing chair and needing something to make my brain engage once more.

And of course I mustn’t forget the original. My morning frappe. Now mind you I don’t drizzle the caramel on it everyday (mostly because I can’t find a smooth enough caramel that doesn’t taste like plastic). This is more of a once a week treat, but I do make my vanilla frappe every morning with the leftover coffee from my hubby and I do put whipped cream on it.

I’m odd I know… but it’s that oddity that makes me unique, one of a kind, special. Now if you were to ask my family what they thought of me being unique or special… I somehow think our definitions would greatly differ. = )

~The Caramel Diva

 

 

 

Yes, it’s that time of year again for me to go all out and overwhelm myself to the point of complete exhausting. It’s a tradition by now… a Lisa-ism if that’s what you’d call it. It always starts out innocently enough, just a little bit of Christmas celebration to share with friends, family, co-workers and neighbors… and possibly whomever seems to cross my path between now and December 24th.I fight to keep it under control, really I do, but somehow it just always seems to grow and grow and grow… It could overtake if I allowed it to, but my sweet, compassionate, loving husband seems to know when I can’t handle anymore and throws me the life preserver or parachute… whichever seems most appropriate at the time of course.

It starts with the popcorn… evil popcorn.

It doesn’t just pop itself either. Oh no, I have to use the hot air popper and then burn my fingers on the old maids and un-popped kernels so nobody will break a tooth or choke on them.

If you thought popcorn was evil, you just wait till you meet the caramel… oh my. Yes, this stuff comes from the very depths of all that is sugary, sticky and so stinking yummy (yes I said stinking) you’re willing to take the third degree burns that come with the job just so you can lick the spoon, pot or anything with the addicting substance still attached to it!

Alrighty then, third… the caramel and popcorn meet and instantly bond with one another in a chemistry match that can only be described as unbreakable!

 

It’s a match made in heaven I believe… or a curse. Still undecided after all these years.
Of course it has to cool someplace….
After that step I loose all sense of control and I become the machine….

 

Yes, everything must look pretty….

 

It’s all in the presentation you know!

 

Pretty, pretty pretty…

 

More pretty….

 

Then of course you have to add the bling!

By the time it’s all said and done, Mandi ponders…

 

I’m so tired of following you around all day….
Are you sure you’re done?
I mean really, I just don’t think I can eat another bite of caramel corn….

The Disappointing Candle

The disappointing candle…

So I was at a friend’s house the other day and upon entering their home with their daughter by my side, a brief smile emerges on the daughter’s lips only to be replaced by a frown. A wonderful aroma drifts before me and I take a deep breath. “Cookies.” I think to myself. “Lovely homemade sugar cookies to be exact.”

“Oh,” the daughter says with annoyance. “It’s just the disappointing candle.” She explains to me that when her mother burns the candle it smells like cookies. Cookies that she craves only to find out they don’t exist.

I blink and smile politely. “Ah, it’s just the candle,” I say to myself. “Just the candle that’s making my mouth water, nothing more.”

Then I began thinking. How many times in life have I entered a ‘so called home’ and been disappointed because what I thought was there really wasn’t? I was lured in by the scent, the smell that was enticing me to taste only to find out that what I thought was there wasn’t. I had gotten myself so worked up for the taste of the ‘cookie’ that I didn’t even pay attention to the details. There were no cookies sheets sprawled out over the kitchen counters. The mixing bowl and spatula were neatly put away. There was no oven timer beeping in the background as a reminder of what was baking. There was no plate piled high with the sugary delights. There was nothing but a simple candle burning on the countertop. A single candle on the countertop creating an illusion of something greater, tastier.

Life is full of disappointments, packed full in my opinion, jobs, marriages, friends. Am I paying attention to the details or am I just scratching the surface? Am I living my life as the disappointing candle? Am I just luring others in with what they see on the surface or am I really producing something for them to take a hold of? Would God or another walk in and say, “Oh, it’s just the candle?”

I don’t want to be the disappointing candle. I would rather expose myself for who I am and let other see and taste the real me. Sure I am full of faults; sometimes I add too much salt to the mixture and leave a bitter taste in your mouth. Sometimes I add too much sugar and leave your head spinning in a sugar-educed comma. And sometimes, only sometimes, I am just perfect and you want to come back for more.

Original post on Lisa Lehrke Wiedmeier facebook page Oct 5, 2010.