You might not realize, but there is a huge difference between San Diego beaches and the shores along the Washington coast.

I have always loved the seashore. There’s a special solitude I seize in my alone time on the coast of the Pacific. My theory has always been a beach is a beach. However, this summer, I wondered if that is true.

In San Diego, surfers spend hours riding the highest waves along the shore. From young to old, where you find a surfer, you find many.

Seagulls fight for bits of food left lying around. They sometimes swoop down on food left for a split second on a blanket. In fact, if you hold something edible in your hand and raise it up as far as you can reach, more than likely a gull will fly down and pick it out of your hand. I have rarely noticed other types of birds hanging out on a busy San Diego shore.

I have seen people on the beaches near my home, no matter what time of year or type of weather. For the nine glorious-weather months, people of all ages JOYfully crowd the sandy area. They dot the warm sand with towels and blankets. Sun worshipers lie back and soak up rays. I walk along the shoreline because there is barely room to move among the groups of beachcombers.

Frisbees and footballs tossed to partners soar over the heads of the sun worshippers. An occasional barefoot person runs across someone’s towel while players attempt to catch the ball or Frisbee. Boogie boards and surfboards lay flat on the sand or set upright to form tepees with other boards. There’s much laughter, fun, and JOY at the beach.

But, in Washington, it’s different. Only a family or two dot the shore. I walk the coastline and rarely come across a beachcomber, walker, or family having a day at the shore. When I stroll on Washington beaches, there are miles of coastline waiting for me. However, I find myself dodging cars, trucks, jeeps, horses, birds (dead and alive), dogs, jellyfish, and even an occasional dead sea lion.

The only cars allowed on California beaches are the lifeguard vehicles. In Washington, however, anyone can drive a car along the ocean. There are no lanes for the traffic. Some people like to drive along the shore, some steer their vehicles in the wet, packed sand, and those with giant tires maneuver through the dry sand. Consequently, there’s no safe place to walk. I have to watch for the moving vehicles and get out of their way.

Dogs only walk free by the ocean in San Diego if they are at the specified dog beach. Washington State allows off-leash canine in the ocean and on the sand, not just in dog parks. The dogs frolic in the water and run along the sand after Frisbees and birds.

I have seen occasional horses as well. They usually come out in groups of three or four. They are domesticated, complete with saddles and riders. Their riders walk, not gallop, their horses along the shore. These large, well-behaved animals cause one problem—the piles they leave behind.

Washington beaches have a variety of birds, not just gulls. Some fly above the water in groups of twenty to fifty. They swarm together and drop into the ocean for their prey. As the tide goes out, they eat and play along the shore. One day, I saw not only seagulls, but an eagle, vulture, and pelicans. Another time, the sandpipers, Cassin’s auklets (some combing the shoreline; others dead in the sand), and many migratory birds caught my eye.

The wind seems alive at times. There are days I walk south on the beach and all is well. Then, I turn to walk back from where I began and face intense winds that will blow off a hat, swirl sand toward the eyes, and freeze the face. Although I wear glasses, these incredible winds cause my eyes to water intensely. I end up closing my lids, except for a slit, to protect them from the fierce, moving air.

One other significant difference between San Diego and Washington beaches is the weather. In San Diego, I don’t always need a jacket. I use sunscreen instead. In Washington, I have never walked along the shore without a windbreaker. A cold bite penetrates the air, even when the sun is brightly shining.

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Regardless of the differences between the oceanfront near my California home and the ocean shore 1,200 miles up the coast, I can say with absolute certainty, a beach is a beach. No matter how different the activities, people, and animals may be on the many beaches of the west coast, one thing remains the same. These God made creations of beauty give me peace.

No matter which beach I walk in solitude, I find the peace I get nowhere else. As I ponder the world around me, I learn so much about myself. I grow JOYously closer to God and myself through my walks along the coastline. In turn, I am closer to my family and friends. The walks I take in the sand, salt air, and wind work magic on my mind and body—I am rejuvenated. My alone time at the seashore JOYfully blesses me.

Do you have a favorite place to spend time in solitude? I hope you often find much JOY and pleasure at your place of peace.

As I write today’s blog, my husband and I are relaxing to the sound of soothing music. The inspirational songs on our national park CD’s have proven to be some of the best music we own. My favorite is The Grand Canyon CD, which we purchased on one of our first camping trips to the Grand Canyon National Park.

Along with the JOYful music, I hear sounds of rain and wind. The coast of Washington is experiencing an intense storm. In the middle of the night, we woke to the sound of the wind rushing against our motorhome. Sections of our rig have slideouts to give us more room when we set up for our camping fun. Each slideout has a tarp-like topper to keep the mechanism and top of the slideout dry. We spent the night listening to the wind make a feast of the toppers.

This morning when my husband did his walk around the motorhome to survey the possible damage, he found the largest topper had ripped off the motorhome. We now sit in a smaller motorhome because my husband made the decision to close the other three slideouts, hoping to save the remaining toppers. The wind is blowing fifteen to twenty mph with gusts bursting through the air at up to thirty-five mph. The weather report indicates possible fifty mph winds before the end of the day.

This little adventure reminds me of a time in 2012 when we sat in our motorhome with the slideouts closed because of the wind. We stayed in an RV park in Michigan during the month of August. We were enJOYing a tasty breakfast when the weather took a turn for the worse. The wind turned violent in a matter of minutes. The trees looked as if they would uproot and fly away. I recalled that during a tornado warning a few weeks prior while camping in Minnesota, I found the Underground weather on my computer. But the current conditions made sure I couldn’t get the internet. Instead, we found a weather channel on TV and watched the storm move across the screen. I realized we were camping in a tornado alert area. The chaos of the tornado hung directly over us.

A few of the neighbors left the area in their cars. We rode out the storm in our rig, as I continued to watch the weather unfold on the television. Scary, but we made it through the day without the tornado swooping down upon us (although next time, I think I’ll follow the neighbors).

For me, the most interesting part of riding out a storm is what people choose to do while trapped indoors. If the area has power, people watch television, listen to music, or read.  My husband enJOYs watching the lightening, rain, and trees blowing in the wind. Some people eat or sleep during storms. I prefer to read a good book or write, as I’m doing now.

When I look around the campground today, I see a flurry of activity. Some campers sit inside their rigs and watch the storm. Outside, in the rain and gusts, people continue to walk their dogs. The animals appear to enJOY their walks, regardless of the downpours and wind. A teenage boy attempts to fly a kite in the twenty mph wind. Some of the campers have opted to leave, even though a strong wind advisory for high profile vehicles is in place, and the ranger advised them to stay put.

Many years ago, my husband and I took our children on a camping trip to the High Sierra’s in California. We didn’t have a rig to camp in, so my husband set up a tent. At that time, there were five of us. The kids ranged in age from nine to thirteen, and I remember our tent barely fit our five sleeping bags. We had to squish our duffle bags in the corners of the tent.

One day while camping on the shore of Bishop Creek, a huge thunderstorm hit the area. We needed to get out of the pouring rain and had the choice to either sit in the car or scrunch in the tent. We grabbed the Yahtzee game from the trunk of the car and sat in the tent for over two hours while the loud, drenching storm circled around us.

That afternoon was one of the best times for our family. We bonded over loud thunder, screams from our daughters at the clap of the thunder, laughter and silliness, and the sound of the dice rolling in the Yahtzee box. We munched from a tub of red licorice. Thrown together in closed quarters, we made the best of the situation. The storm took us all by surprise, but not as much as the delight and JOY we shared that afternoon.

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Have you made JOYous memories in the midst of storms? My readers and I would like to hear about your adventures. Please reply and share the JOY a storm sent your way.

The next time you are stuck inside during bad weather, may JOY cross the path of the storm and fill your home with delight.

Have you ever really looked at a tree that should not be alive or standing upright? They fascinate me. These trees began their existence in the same manner as all others but survived the many storms of life. They started as single seeds, and decades later, still stand tall and sturdy. They continued to live after volcanic ash and lava covered the ground where they stood majestically rooted in place. If the trees could communicate, they would have incredible stories to tell.

Humans are a lot like these determined trees. Each of us began the same way as every other human being. We have developed, grown, and lived our own unique lives. There is a story behind each living person and thing.

When I snapped these pictures, I felt the trees’ determination. Strength played an important part in their lengthy survival. Your guess is as good as mine as to why these particular trees made it through the storms of life. Was it luck? Personally, I don’t believe luck had anything to do with the resilience of the trees, any more than luck carries a newborn through his or her life to the ripe old age of one hundred. Some may not agree with me, but others will concur wholeheartedly.

A friend of mine told me about a woman she knows who lives with the misshapen, gnarled hands of RA (rheumatoid arthritis). Her hands are not pretty. The fingers point outward, away from her body. Many arthritic lumps and bumps cover her hands. Nevertheless, she paints her long fingernails bright red and wears beautiful rings her fingers. She does not allow the trials in life to take away her JOY. She puts a smile on her face and lives life to the fullest.

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I don’t know about you, but I want to be strong, resilient, and determined through every valley and peak in my life. Even on the not-so-good days, I want to transform myself into a positive, JOYous human being. I plan to live JOYfully until I’m a hundred. After all, life is for living.

I hope you join me. Paint your nails red, buy an outlandish tie, dye your hair a new shade, put on your favorite outfit, and stand tall. Make each day a day of JOY for yourself and those around you.

This afternoon, I attended a Barnes & Noble book signing for my author friend, Kate Breslin. Her new book, “Not by Sight”, was released four days ago. I had the privilege of reading this lovely story prior to the release date and wrote the following review.

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A historical romance, “Not by Sight” takes place in England during WWI. Grace meets Jack for one brief moment at a costume ball. Months later, they meet again under different circumstances. She becomes the chauffeur and eyes for Jack, who was blinded since Grace last saw him.

Their path takes them on a journey through danger, betrayal, friendships, hope, faith, and love.

As a reader and writer, I enjoyed the characters and what they stood for in “Not by Sight.” From the very first page, Kate had my undivided attention. By the end of the book, I decided it was time for me to ‘paint with words’ in all that I do. Friends, acquaintances, and even survivors of war need to be heard. Most importantly, it is never too late to rediscover faith in God.

This fabulous book is worth reading over and over again. Kate Breslin is my new favorite author.

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An insightful author, Kate’s writing captured me from the first page and left me full of JOY. She has a unique way of weaving historical fiction with the plot, characters, and life.

I first met Kate last summer when my sister introduced us. My husband and I were visiting the state of Washington where both women live. My sister is a friend of Kate’s and had given me a copy of Kate’s first book, “For Such a Time”, for my birthday. When I visited the Pacific Northwest a few months later, Kate was gracious enough to meet us for lunch.

The lady I met was a beautiful, down to earth woman who spoke with confidence and enthusiasm. She had no way of knowing her impact on me that day. As a wannabe author and budding writer, I was blessed by Kate’s expertise and passion for life. She encouraged me to continue writing and believe in myself.

“Not by Sight” is a compassionate love story between Grace and Jack. Set in England during WWI, the history woven into the story intrigued me.  When I finished reading, I formed a list of observations that inundated me.

As a reader, the people in the book fascinated me. Perhaps I felt this way because I have shared some of the character’s issues and concerns in my lifetime.

In the book, suspicious first impressions and negative opinions of other people  soon changed relationships into forever friendships. Characters learned to believe in one another. They discovered that honesty leads to trust.

The book left me with a desire to somehow help veterans reenter society. I realized that I often hear what I want to hear, not what someone is actually sharing with me. I need to sharpen my listening skills.

I admired Grace’s JOYful spirit and positive attitude. This main character worked hard and kept her faith and hope in God. When I finished reading, I experienced newfound hope for the human race. It is never too late to rediscover our faith in God.

I am a tremendous advocate of personal growth. The characters in this book became better people as they moved along their journey in life.

As a writer, I learned a few valuable lessons. ‘Painting with words’ became one of the themes of the book. As I read, I realized I do not use enough descriptive words. I am going to try some new techniques and improve my descriptions by ‘painting with words.’

Kate’s book confirmed to me the importance of life lessons in fiction. Her characters had redeeming qualities. Also, she weaved tension throughout the entire book.

Kate, you did it again. Your first book, “For Such a Time”, brought me great JOY. You have developed and written another insightful and honest novel of faith, hope and love. You are one of my favorite writers of all times. I want to be just like you when I grow up.

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Kate Breslin’s book, “Not by Sight” hit the store’s on August 4, 2015. I encourage you to get your copy as soon as possible and take the journey with Grace and Jack through love, war, fear, intrigue, friendship, hard work, acceptance, and faith.

While you’re at it, pick up a copy of Kate Breslin’s first book, “For such a Time.” You too can find JOY by reading inspirational historical romance.

Today, I share some of the JOY I have received from the steps in my life—stepparents, stepchildren, and stepsiblings. Stepfamilies are unfamiliar to some, but, since the age of three, I have been a part of a blended family.

I grew up with a stepdad, stepmom, stepsisters, stepbrother, and grandparents who were not blood related. Now, I am a stepparent. Among other things, these unique people have brought me JOY, trouble, love, and discomfort. They have left me happy and sad, sometimes at the same time. I have learned to be the person I am today because of the people in my life—including my steps.

The experiences of my stepdad’s children were not positive. However, these four individuals educated me. Through their sloppy habits, they taught me how important it is to keep my body and home clean. More importantly, when they used foul language and acted mean to others, they showed me the importance of keeping a pure mind. Their sneaky ways formed me into the honest person I am today. Through the heartaches and tears they caused in the household, I felt encouraged to love and accept each member of my family for their uniqueness.

My stepdaughter celebrates her birthday today. Granted, I was not the woman who gave birth to her so many years ago, but I secretly thanked her mother for bringing her into the world. You see, a few days after her ninth birthday, she came into my life. I believe I understand her almost as well as I know the children I carried and birthed. It doesn’t matter to me that I did not carry her for nine months—she is my daughter and I love her.

As the mom of the house, I had the privilege of giving her a bit of myself. I treated her as my own. I instructed, loved, scolded, cared, laughed, hugged, and became her friend. With her sensitivity and caring heart, she made a difference in my life.

For more than thirty years, I’ve tried to be there when she needed me, without overstepping my boundaries. I remember telling her, from the very beginning, that she had a mom and I did not want to take her place. I reminded her I was the mom of the house and hoped to be her friend.

There have been difficult times. We had many days of frustration. I am sure there were days she didn’t like me. What I quickly realized, however, is that there were times of frustration and difficulties with the children I brought into this world, as well. It’s easy to categorize and blame the most likely culprit, the stepparent or stepchild. Steps make great scapegoats. I, however, will not go there. Just because she’s my stepdaughter doesn’t make me love her any less.

How was I able to be a stepparent who cares, loves, and protects one who is not my natural born child? How does anyone love another person’s child? A lot of it is determination, need, and a decision.

My stepmother was a beautiful example of how to be a loving, kind stepparent. Although I only spent a few weeks each summer with my dad and stepmom, she opened her heart to me. She accepted me for me. To this day, my second mom blesses me. What a JOY she is in my life. I thank God for this special woman. I will always love and appreciate her.

Because of the people I’ve spent time with and the trials I have been through, my life is full of blessings. When my husband and I joined our families together thirty-two years ago, we became a blended family. My two children and I moved in with him and his daughter. Two years later, our daughter was born, making us a clan of six.

In my mind and heart, there was only one way to look at us—we were a family, period. Sometimes one child might have felt singled out, picked on, or ignored. I recognized the signs, since I grew up in a blended family. My husband’s and my family was a blended unit of people who shared experiences. Fun, growth, nurturing, love, and closeness filled our house with JOY. We were, and still are, a family. Ours was like any other group of humans living under the same roof—the good and bad melded together. That’s what happens in a family.

A few weeks ago, we took family pictures at the lakes by my home. I was a proud mom when everyone showed for the photo shoot. As I viewed the proofs, I couldn’t wipe the JOYous smile from my face. Our four loving children have given us ten grandchildren (grands). Six granddaughters and four grandsons fill my husband and me with JOY. Seeing their sweet faces in the photos brought tears to my eyes.

So are they grands or stepgrands? I made a rule a long time ago, and it’s near and dear to my heart. The rule goes something like this: Thou shalt not love one grandchild more than another—even if the child isn’t a blood relative. You see, I love each one of my ten grandchildren unconditionally. Only three have my blood—but all ten have my heart. And, my munchkins, it will stay that way forever and a day.

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May you find JOY in your family and treasure each moment you have together.

Happy Birthday, Dawn. May you be blessed with JOY and happiness, today and always, honey.