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Hiya!

Two updates this week. First, a blog interview at www.betsy-ann.blogspot.com. Nicely done, Betsy!

Second, in celebration of the release of "Take Flight!" Cindy and I will be at a booksigning in October. Details below. Our pal, Karen Kingsbury will be there, too. Please come!

Take Flight!
A Sisterchicks Devotional
by
Robin Jones Gunn and Cindy Hannan
Signing at
Branches Bookstore Cafe Divine
October 14, 2006
10-12
6709 NE 63rd, Vancouver, WA 98661
360.694-6461

Hope to see a whole flock of you sweet Sisterchicks at Branches!

Much joy,
Robin

Happy September, Sweet Sisterchicks!

For almost a year I've been writing a column in mtl magazine called, "Sisterchicks Savvy Travel Tips". It's been a lot of fun! We wanted to let all of you know about the magazine and now seemed like a good time since mtl a special running for sign ups. I hope you enjoy this magazine that is all about bringing women More To Life!

In other happy news, the release of our very first Sisterchicks Devotional is only three weeks away! EEEEE! The title is Take Flight!

My real life Sisterchick, Cindy Hannan and I went to work on this project a little over a year ago. Every writing project changes as it goes along and every project seems to take longer than expected. Cindy and I had such a great journey together as we worked on this book that it's hard to believe a year has passed.

This afternoon Cindy came over so we could work out a few details for upcoming book signings for Take Flight! We'll let you know about those in the next few weeks. Check back, okay?

Soaring in His Grace!

Robin

Wheeee!

What a fun way to say so long to summer! You have to check out this Sisterchicks Parade! http://pantagraph.com/features/feat090506.shtml

Oh, you creative, alive and very real Sisterchicks!!! How cool!

And to all of you who sent ideas for new mood music while I write, may I say you have excellent taste! Some of the CD's mentioned I already had but I have successfully added to my collection, thanks to your recommendations, and I am happily humming a few new tunes as my fingers do the tap dancing on the keyboard.

Many thanks.

And happy back to school for those of you with young ones boarding the school bus. I wrote a little piece for moms about back to school feelings. The story first appeared in "Tea at Glenbrooke". I'll copy it below, for all you moms who are watching the big yellow school bus swallow your child this week in one big bite.

Smiles,
Robin

Where the Wildflowers Grew
By Robin Jones Gunn -- "Tea at Glenbrooke"

The wildflowers are all gone.

The Queen Anne’s Lace have disappeared. So have the blue cornflowers and the dainty yellow buttercups. All summer the field by the mailbox was full of them. The entire knoll wore the wildflowers like a brightly embroidered shawl. Every time I walked down to get the mail under the warm August skies, I smiled at them and they waved back at me.

Everyday.

Today, they’re all gone. Done. Dried and blown on the wind. The knoll has exchanged the laughing colors of summer for a rich golden mantle of approaching fall. Deeper, more thoughtful amber shades now stretch across the countryside.

Next Tuesday, the jolly yellow school bus will roll down this street. It will open its’ smiling mouth and swallow my youngest in one bite. I will stand right here and watch as she joins the other scrubbed faces starring out the windows. I will wave at them and they will smile back at me.

Everyday.

It is the start of a new season. A beautiful new season. A season with brisk mornings, fat pumpkins and translucent yellow maple leaves.

But no wildflowers.

I will miss the afternoon melody of the ice cream truck. In its’ place will come the afternoon whistling of my tea kettle and steaming cups of Irish Breakfast tea with a splash of cream and a dash of sugar. The fragrance of pool chlorine permeating my daughter’s skin will be exchanged for the scent of freshly sharpened wood from a #2 pencil. Instead of slicing into a round watermelon and lighting the barbecue, we’ll soon be dining on slow cooked stew and whole grain rolls, still warm from the oven. I will light candles in my living room when the sun goes down and the air will fill with the scent of cinnamon laced with vanilla.

One season of beauty is about to be exchanged for another. Each equally beautiful and wonderful in its own way. I need to remember this. I need to cling to the truth that indeed, “He has made everything beautiful in its season” and “there is a time for every purpose under heaven”.

I must believe this is true because, you see, yesterday our son left for college. The end of one season, the beginning of another. As we drove away from the dorm I felt a force greater than my own muscles tightening around my abdomen. “Oh, my stomach,” I moaned.

“Are you okay?” My husband asked.

“Are you sick, Mom?” My daughter looked worried.

“No. I’m not sick.”

“What does it feel like?” she asked.

“It feels like…it feels like contractions.”

She looked at me oddly. “Aren’t those what you get when your baby is about to come?”

I nodded. Then I told my daughter a great secret of womanhood that I did not know until that very moment. “I guess you also get contractions when your baby is about to leave.”

I didn’t cry. I’m not crying today.

I know it’s the next season in his life. I am happy for him. Delighted that he’s moving on in such a wonderful direction. The transition is natural and beautiful. Really.

Yet here I stand in the middle of the road beside the mail box, staring at where the wildflowers grew. I can’t move. I can barely breathe as another contraction comes over me.

Yesterday my boy was here, running down this laughing knoll; his hair the color of buttercups, his eyes as blue as cornflowers.

Today, all the wildflowers are gone. And so is he.

However, I am completely confident that one of these brisk autumn weekends, when the house smells of meatloaf and baked potatoes, the front door will open and there will stand my wildflower boy. He'll be a little taller, a little wiser. Over his shoulder will be slung a duffel bag stuffed with dirty clothes.

And all my contractions will mysteriously disappear.