I love my husband.  I just wanted to put that out there before I go any further.  He’s a timeless jock with a heart of gold and shows his love through his actions.  When I was a young, very poor, woman, in my first apartment and facing a Christmas without any means to celebrate, he surprised me with a Christmas tree and box of lights and ornaments.  I knew that night that I would marry him.  How could any woman pass up somebody that kind?  He’s quite a guy.  He is not, however, the smoothest talker in the world.  He often says things that make my eyebrows jerk together.  Tonight, as I tried my protect myself against the Midwestern winter winds by turning on our fireplace, he asked me one of those very unsmooth questions.  “Are you semi-comfortable yet?”  He was warm and wanted to turn the fireplace off.  Was I semi-comfortable?  Is that the best it’s going to get for me?  Not “comfortable” just “semi-comfortable.”  I could have been irritated at his question, but I just filed it away in the dialogue folder in my brain.  You see, I am surrounded by an odd assortment of people who say odd things often.  If you’re a fan of my books, you know that my male characters are often not sophisticated or smooth and sometimes trip over their own words.  In Lost and Found in Laurel Ridge, when Trey calls Erin “boo” and she says “What have I told you about that?”—–that comes right out of my own life.  In Wait for Me, when Kevin’s dad says “I-talian” with a long “i”—yep, that’s my dad talking.  I don’t have to go searching for inspiration; these people I love are feeding me the words constantly.  Semi-comfortable yet?  I will find a place for that question in one of my future books.  Now, excuse me while I put on a second layer of socks.