New Release! Always, Montana by Deb Martin-Webster

Always happy to share a new release! Today's book is Always, Montana by Deb Martin-Webster. It's the follow up to her book Love, Montana. Check out her books here at Shorehouse Books. Here's a little information about the books, and the first chapter of Always, Montana.

Love, Montana

Love, Montana is a story of romance, commitment and eternal love. Set against the backdrop of the majestic scenery of Montana, this novel tells the story of western fiction novelist, Montana Joe and the love of his life, Rose. From their first tempestuous meeting, you will be drawn into this smart and funny story and will find yourself rooting for these two lovers as they realize that they are each other’s destiny.

Always, Montana

Always, Montana is the sequel to the popular western romance Love, Montana. In this installment, author Deb Martin-Webster reacquaints the reader with the characters who weaved the story of Rose and Joe, an epic love that could not be diminished even by death. She also introduces us to new characters who come into Rose's world and turn it upside down. Twists and turns abound in this tale about the famous Joe Montana and his high-spirited family.

Chapter 1

"Excuse me Ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt your bitch session; however, you do realize your hair is on fire?"

Joe’s been dead for two years, and he still makes me laugh.  He was so relaxed in front of an audience.  Unlike me, who would panic at the thought of giving a five-minute PowerPoint presentation, Joe loved entertaining his fans for not only was he a renowned author and accomplished writer but a prolific storyteller as well.  The video was from a charity event he attended in Princeton, New Jersey.  Some affluent donors weren’t very happy about the lack of seating.  Joe was famous for drawing large crowds. He noticed a well-dressed, older woman sitting by the exit door complaining about the seating arrangement.  Joe, being the gentleman that he was, excused himself and headed toward the back of the room.  She was so engrossed in her own bitching that she failed to notice that he was standing directly behind her.  Inadvertently, she leaned into the table’s candle centerpiece and set the front of her hair on fire.  Without blinking an eye, Joe gallantly grabbed a glass of water from a nearby table and doused the flames.  Needless to say she was humiliated, but ever so thankful for his quick action.  

Joe flashed his infamous shit-eating grin and said, “You’re welcome, Darlin’. Now, how about you come up front and sit with me. And by the way, that’ll cost you another thousand dollar donation for my heroic firefighting service.”

The audience gave him a roaring round of applause.  He informed the guests that his tip jar was in the back and that it was pathetically empty – nothing her thousand dollar donation couldn’t fix.  Joe knew how to work a crowd and please his fans.  He was good at what he did, and he knew it.

I turned my computer off and continued to tidy his office.  Funny, I still called it his office.  Has it really been two years since his death – seems like yesterday.  I thought if I left the room the way it was, it would in some way comfort me.  Regrettably, it did just the opposite. It irritated me beyond belief.  I’m a neat-freak, and he was an incurable pack rat.  Receipts from gas stations, fast food restaurants, numerous coffee shops and illegible crib notes on discarded manuscripts littered his desk.

There was still the matter of scattering his ashes.  I couldn’t bring myself to do it, but I knew it was time to honor my husband’s last wish which was to scatter his remains at the place where he proposed.  In my mind, I knew I needed to let go and move on, but in my heart his untimely death still hurt like hell.  I’ve heard people use the term heartbroken or heartache.  I’d never experienced either – until Joe died.  It was an endless, helpless, hopeless pain.   I needed to let go.  I needed to move on.  No matter how painful the task, Joe’s ashes had to be spread. 

When the time was right, Raymond said he would accompany me to the spot Joe designated. He was very patient and understanding when it came to my grieving.  

“Joe was a procrastinator in life so why would he change in death—always needing to be in control,” Raymond would joke. “He still annoys me from the grave—arrogant son of a mangy coyote!”

I knew it was Raymond’s way of expressing his grief and how he too missed Joe.  To be honest, in some strange way, it made me feel better.   I missed being referee to their incessant bickering.  They had a lot in common.  Their inimitable friendship was cherished more than they were willing to admit.

Charlotte was now in her terrible-twos and quite skilled at navigating herself around the house. She was becoming quite a beautiful little girl.  I know all parents think that their children are beautiful and talented, but Charlotte was truly a beautiful child. I called her our little golden girl because of her glowing olive complexion and curly, sandy brown locks.   She had my focus and temper and Lash’s (Joe as his fans knew him) curiosity and smile. 

She toddled into the office and climbed onto his rawhide leather chair.  I remembered him gloating when he finished assembling it.  He wasn’t patient when it came to following directions or handling tools.  He called it his one-and-only successful IKEA achievement.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that if I’d given Charlotte an Allen wrench she could have put it together. 

Lord, I miss him. I miss those final edit nights when I’d come in with coffee and sit in his lap.  It saddened me to think I’d never see him sitting at that desk again.  I picked up Charlotte and gave her a big hug.

I turned away to keep her from seeing my tears.  She placed her small hands on my cheeks.

“Happy . . . h-a-p-p-y Mama,” she whispered.

Her attempt to console me brought a smile to my face.  I kissed her tiny palms. 

“This one’s from me and this one’s from Daddy.”

Charlotte instinctively knew when I needed her happy reminder.  She was wise beyond her years.  Raymond called her “Nadie”. Blackfoot and loosely translated, it meant the wisdom of an old soul. 

Keough cracked the office door and peeked inside. 

“You gals okay?  Both of ya’ need to get some rest.  It’s long past your bedtimes.” 

Charlotte climbed off my lap and ran over to Keough and latched onto his leg.  He picked her up and swung her onto his shoulders. 

“It’s time for this little cowgirl to hit the hay. Come on let’s get you into your bunk.  Lou and I will tell you a story about the time I tried to lasso and ride an ornery wild mustang. Would you like that?” 

She bounced up and down on his shoulders squealing, “Pap-Pap, horsey!”

“Don’t worry, Rose.  It’s a very short story.  It took me three seconds to lose that man-versus-beast battle.” 

I chuckled at Keough’s honesty and said goodnight.

“Okay, Baby Girl –a quick story then bedtime.  That goes for you too Mama.”  He paused for a moment and whispered, “And don’t think I haven't notice you sneaking into this office in the middle of the night.  It ain’t healthy for you to deprive yourself of sleep.  And it ain’t good for this baby to see you so dang sad all the time.  Now, don’t make me tie you up and drag your ass to bed.”  

“I promise I’ll go to bed.  Just a few more minutes, okay?  Thank you Keough.”

 “You’re welcome, Darlin’ and goodnight.”    

I was leaving the office when I noticed something on the side of the door jam.  Funny, I’d never noticed it before.  There were two perfectly shaped hearts carved into the trim with the initials MJ loves R.  I rubbed my finger over them.  When did he do this?   What other little treasures has he left behind for me to discover.  I went back to his desk, picked up some paper and a pencil and rubbed it over the carving and then tucked it into my shirt pocket. We miss you too, Joe.

About the Author

 Originally from Pennsylvania, Deb and her husband Pete moved to Western North Carolina and live on a small farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

She enjoys the simplicity of their country lifestyle and takes pleasure in the daily antics of their horse Colonel, half dozen rowdy barn cats and a large but friendly black snake they’ve affectionately named, Licorice. 

After retiring from a successful career in Art Administration, Deb has taken on a new career as a novelist and humor writer.  In October of 2012, her novel Love, Montana was selected and published by HumorOutcasts Press.  The sequel, Always, Montana is published by Shorehouse books.  Her other books include, A Hot Dog Stand in the Himalayas  a daily diary for their granddaughter Sammie that  develops into a collection of heartwarming fictionalized short stories and The Adventures of Annie Banana Bread and Larry Cranberry a  tale that teaches the acceptance of children with disabilities and diverse health conditions.  

Deb is one of the original writers forming the successful online humor magazine, Humoroutcasts.com.

Get in touch with Deb on 

Twitter

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Author Page

Kitten Rescue - Need Help!

This last year, we have noticed an dramatic increase in cats in our neighborhood. I have three older cats in my backyard who have been spayed. Since I have food out there for them, more cats have started hanging out in our yard - some of them have collars. I don't know who they belong to, but the owners have not had them fixed. I've caught several of them and have taken them to the low cost spay and neuter clinic here in town, but I can't afford to get them all fixed. As a result, three of the cats got pregnant and decided our yard was the best place to have their kittens.

The first litter was born on April 19th to a cat who was mostly feral. Soon after, she got a terrible abscess wound on her stomach, so we were able to catch her and bring her and the kittens inside. We treated her, and she has completely healed. She had four kittens.

The second two cats are co-parenting, which is really interesting to see them taking turns nursing and cleaning all of the kittens. They had their litters on May 7th and May 13th, and they keep them all together. It's so cute. One had a litter of four and the other had five. So there are 13 kittens altogether.

My plan was to take care of them and get them used to people, so that, at eight to ten weeks, I could take them to a cat rescue, where they would be spayed/neutered, and put up for adoption. However, I started calling around to the different no-kill shelters, and everyone is having the same problem. There are way too many cats/kittens who need help, and the rescues/shelters are overflowing. The animal control places who euthanize animals will take them, but there is no way I can do that. It's not an option.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to adopt these little kitties out myself, but I don't want to add to the growing feral cat problem. I don't want give these kittens to people not knowing whether or not they are going to have them fixed. I would like to work with the low cost spay and neuter clinic to get all the kittens and their mothers fixed before I send them out to new homes. However, I can't afford to pay for all of them. It costs $35 for males and $56 for females. I don't want to be part of the kitty problem here, so if there is any way you can help, I would appreciate it. I am doing a Go Fund Me campaign to try to take care of the kittens myself. If there is money left over, it will go towards food (kitten food is expensive) and vet bills (one kitten had an eye infection, and it cost $81.00). I would also love to be able to pay for them to get their first shots. Any money that isn't used directly for the kittens will get donated to one of the local no-kill shelters. Thank you for taking the time to read about our bitty kitties!

You can find out more about the kittens and follow them on their journey on Facebook. And follow us on Twitter @KittyPosse1.

The Ugly Truth About Funeral Costs

Sorry I haven't been around lately. I know people say that if you want to write, you will. You'll find a way. But sometimes, life has to take priority, and your time isn't yours to use. That's what's been going on with my life for awhile now. I don't mind taking care of loved ones, so it isn't a burden, but it is time consuming.

For those of you who follow my blog, you know my terminally ill father has been living with me for almost 10 years. He has a neurological disease that is slowly killing his brain. We finally got him into a care home in October, but we have been dealing with other personal and financial issues for him during the adjustment period. Having him in care, I thought I would be able to take a breath and return to writing. Then my grandmother, who had been stable in a wonderful board and care home for some time, took a turn for the worse. I have dealing with her financial issues and trying to find a good nursing home for her.

With the little bit of money she had left, I wanted to prepay her funeral expenses. She doesn't believe in cremation, so I wanted to honor her wishes. She and her second husband bought a plot together at a cemetery shortly before he passed away, and she wanted to be buried with him.

Since she didn't have a lot of money, I opted just to have her buried without any services and planned to do something privately with the family. I knew funeral expenses were insane, but I was in for a shock. I knew she already purchased the plot, so I didn't think it would cost a ton at the cemetery. I was wrong. To open and close the grave, lower the casket, and pay for some kind of holder for the casket, it cost almost $3700.00. I told him I could rent a backhoe and do it myself for much less. He wasn't amused. I told him he was lucky he wasn't talking to my grandmother.

That didn't leave me much money for the rest. But I didn't think it would be a lot, since it would just be a casket and transportation to the cemetery. I was worried about the cost of transportation though, since she will have to be transported over 200 miles to the cemetery.

I decided to try to use the same company who owned the cemetery, hoping I might be able to get a deal. Nope. No deals. I spoke to a woman on the phone who agreed to meet me at the funeral home to discuss details. When she told me how much it would cost, I felt the same way I do when I'm at the movie theater, and they charge me $7.00 for 50 cents worth of popcorn. It's a slow rage that makes me crazy. I want the popcorn, but it isn't like I can shop around. I'm in the movie theater. If I want popcorn, I have to pay the crazy inflated price.

That woman (with a straight face) told me that it would cost $4362.06 to transport and bury my grandmother. I just stared at her, blinking the same way I do at popcorn lady at the movie theater. I keep waiting for them to laugh and say, "I'm just joking! It doesn't really cost that much. I'm just messing with you."

They wanted $2995 for an immediate burial. That means, no embalming or other services to make the person look nice for viewing. It's just putting the person in the casket. Then she added on the additional mileage for travel, the casket, and don't forget the tax, which added up to the final total of $4362.06. No funeral. No flowers. No limos. No graveside service. Nothing but picking her up, putting her in a casket, and taking her to the cemetery. I did ask her if she thought those prices were a little high, and she didn't even bat an eye when she said "No."

Unlike the movie theater, I wasn't stuck with this funeral home, so I decided to shop around. I was able to find a very reasonably priced funeral home that was able to give me exactly what I needed for my grandmother for half that price.

Before doing this, I didn't believe in cremation either. But this made me a believer. Even cremation costs start at around $2000.00. I'm not going to make my family pay $10,000 just to put me in the ground. That's crazier than the price of movie popcorn and nearly as tasty.

Emu Oil? Rook Piercing Follow Up

So check this out...many of you read my nightmare piercing story about the rook I had done over a year ago. I hadn't done a follow up, but the stupidity continued.

My sister-in-law finally got fed up and took hers out. My sister battled with her helixes, and finally switched to a smaller gauge, which helped. They finally healed. My best friend's helixes also continued to give her trouble until she switched her jewelry as well.

Me? My rook would not heal. No matter what I did, it continued to look red and irritated. If I didn't clean it every day with saline, it would get infected again. If I didn't like it so much, I would have taken it out, but I'm stubborn that way.

After fighting with this piercing for over a year and a half, I decided to try moving to a smaller gauge, like my sister did. I went to a body jewelry place with the intention of buying the jewelry there and taking it to my regular piercing guy to have him change it.

While I was at the body jewelry place, the sales lady suggested I talk to their piercer. After the trouble with my rook, I don't trust anyone but my usual guy. However, I figured it couldn't hurt since she wasn't going to do any piercings on me. When I met her, I was happy to see she looked like my piercer guy, like she'd been hit in the face with a shotgun blast of pellets. She had more piercings than I could count, and that was only the area I could see. That's a very good sign.

She took one look at my rook and said "It's crooked." What? Not that I was surprised, mind you. It just pissed me off. Sure enough, my rook piercing is not straight, so the hoop is constantly rubbing on the edges, which is why it is always irritated and won't heal.

I asked her what she would recommend, even though I knew the answer would be to take it out, let it heal, and get it pierced again. Still, I needed to hear her say it. She surprised me by saying that I had one other option before starting over...Emu oil. What? Emu oil? As in, the bird? Yep, that emu. Apparently, I'm behind the times. It's the latest and greatest first aid thing. It has natural antibiotic and anti-inflammatory properties.

I tried not to laugh. I figured they stored it next to the snake oil (wink, wink). Still, she had a point, it was cheaper and less of a pain than taking it out and starting over, so I bought it. She said to use it twice a day for at least three weeks, but that I would be able to see a difference in a few days if it was going to work.

I have to say, I'm shocked. It's actually working. I don't know if the piercing will totally heal and stop getting irritated if I quit using it, but I'll see when the bottle runs out. The redness, discharge, and irritation are gone. Emu oil? Who knew?

Here is the website for the emu oil she sold me. I paid about $16.00 for the 1 ounce bottle at the store, but it's much cheaper online (of course), running $7.95 for the one ounce bottle. When I looked it up, they were also offering free shipping. On the website, they claim that it can be used for dry skin, sun burns, inflammation, scars, burns, and muscles and joints. I don't know about all that, but I can definitely say it has helped with my piercing. I've also started to see some emu oil products in drug stores, and the pharmacy sections of other stores, but I don't know how effective those products are.

Trailer Trash With A Girl's Name by Stacey Roberts

I just started reading Trailer Trash, with A Girl's Name by Stacey Roberts. I love the way his mother gives everyone titles. This book is cracking me up. Stacey found a way to take his troubled childhood and turn it into something positive by using humor. The following is an interview he did with Donna Cavanagh on HumorOutcasts.com that they have given me permission to share. Links to buy the book and connect with Stacey are at the bottom of this post.

1.Tell us about Stacey Roberts: Where were you born and where did you grow up?
I was born in New Jersey, in a little town called Garwood. We lived there for nearly ten years before we moved into the famous Winnebago and traveled the country. We went from New Jersey to San Diego, California, to Lake Tahoe, California (where my stepfather Ted the Drug Dealer began his life of crime) to Hollywood, Florida (where he perfected it).

2. How would you describe your family life growing up?
My mother, my grandmother, and my aunt all lived pretty close to us in New Jersey, so we got to see family all the time. My parents got divorced when I was five, and after that we moved into the basement of our house like we were hiding out from the agents of a totalitarian regime. My mother needed the living space to start a business. For the next ten years, I lived in spaces that weren’t much bigger than my bed. I also remember being very poor; there was never money for anything, but it didn’t stop my mom – we took vacations and things like that, just always on the cheap. We went to Washington, DC once and slept in the car at the Washington Monument. The DC police enjoyed that.

3. A lot of people have “dysfunctional” childhoods and grow up bitter. You went the funny route. How has humor helped you? (not trying to be insulting here but trying to show that it was not all fun and games for you.)
Humor was a surprising side-effect. I had been telling these stories for years to my friends, expecting sympathy, a hug, or maybe some edible food (since my mother can’t cook). I was looking to share my pain. But all my friends just kept laughing. That was my first sign that my dysfunctional childhood was not as tragic as I thought (or hoped). Once people whose opinion I trusted told me that my childhood was hilarious, I started looking for the funny instead of the sad. Perspective is everything.

4. Your book  is funny and poignant.  How did it make you feel writing it?  What about your family?  Did you consult them writing it?
Dysfunctional or not, you only get one childhood. One of the symptoms of growing old is that you forget what it was like to be a kid, with all the wonder and helplessness that comes with it. Writing this book made me remember incidents and even people I had forgotten. The next door neighbor who kind of took my father’s place after the divorce – the guy who could fix my bike or teach me to throw a baseball, the kids my age who I ran around the neighborhood with, etc. Stephen King once wrote that you never have friends as good as the ones you had when you were a kid. I was glad that writing this book made me remember them.
Some of my cousins read these stories in blog form. They were the best sounding board, because they told me that I had nailed the characters of my mother, my brother, Ted the Drug Dealer. They never knew about some of the stories, particularly the ones after we moved into the motor home and left the east coast. The feedback from my cousins could be distilled down to, “Well. That explains a lot.”

My mother hasn’t read them. She doesn’t have Internet. My brother read a couple and took issue with them – he never thought he was the favorite son. It is important for him (and the readers) to know that this book is not a memoir – I took events from my childhood and added a few things for humor’s sake, and exaggerated some of the characters. But the people who know my mother recognize her easily in the book.
Finally, one of the things I gained from writing Trailer Trash is a whole new appreciation for my mother. I may have disagreed with her methods, but she did the best she could after her divorce with two small kids.

5. Besides the humor, what is the one thing you want a reader to take away from this book?
Family matters.

6. Tell us about your writing? You have another career as well, so what made you decide to be a writer as well?
I always wanted to be a writer. I was carrying around a notebook at 11, making up stories.  I went to college to get a history degree – I have a masters in European History, but I started an IT company while in grad school. The career I have now is the side job that’s lasted 20 years. If I could write books and teach full time and still be able to maintain the lifestyle my daughters have become accustomed to, I would do that.

7. What are your future writing plans?  Where would you like to go from here? Would you stay in humor or do you want to try other genres as well.
I have a series of four Trailer Trash stories called The Fall of Ted the Drug Dealer – the story of the cop who pursued him and put an end to his life of crime. After that, Trailer Trash, With a Girl’s Name Book 2. I am also working on a novel called Rain Songs about the Kennedy assassination that is due out this November. Mark Gosson, creator of the Xombee Guy webcomic and I are working on a zombie novel unlike any in the genre that we hope to have out in 2014.

When the author was born, his mother did the unthinkable. She gave him a girl’s name—Stacey. But Stacey’s name was just the first hurdle he’d face in his uphill climb from birth to manhood. He also had to deal with an entitled older brother, the hodgepodge of different men his mother was involved with, and the nomadic lifestyle he was forced to endure for five years. And to top it all off, his mother couldn’t cook a decent meal to save her life. Trailer Trash, With a Girl’s Name is Stacey Roberts’ lighthearted, often hilarious account of growing up in an unstable household during the 1980s. Full of humor, history, and hope, it follows Stacey from the hospital room where he was born to the Winnebago that carried him across the country, filling in the gaps with a wit and humor that anyone with a dysfunctional family can appreciate. So go ahead and start reading. Once you hop aboard the Winnebago with Stacey and his quirky family, you’ll find that you’re in for the ride or your life, where what you learn along the way is not only entertaining, but also enormously enriching.

Get a copy of Stacey's book on Amazon

 Connect with Stacey on 

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New Release! Unsurpassed by Charity Parkerson

Unsurpassed

By

Charity Parkerson

Blurb:

Book 1 in the No Rival series

Aubree is infatuated with two men, Max and Ryan. The two former Marines have been her close friends ever since she made her first misguided attempt at joining their kickboxing classes. When the pair invites her to join them at a weekend party thrown by Drew, a famous MMA champion, she has no idea what they have in mind. After spending one hot ménage night with the pair, Aubree learns the men’s intentions are not all about her. Feeling betrayed, Aubree turns to Drew who is also tugging at her heart. She must choose between the two men who have been the center of her fantasies, and the one man who could make all her dreams come true.

Inside Scoop: This sexy tale includes a ménage and male/male encounters that may leave you wishing for an alpha male fighter of your own.
A Romantica contemporary erotic romance from Ellora'sCave Publishing

Buy Links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/unsurpassed.html

Excerpt:

Leaning against the cool wood of the hotel room door, she met his stare trying hard not to smile like an idiot.

“This was fun.”

Drew’s eyes flashed. “If you ask nicely, I’ll let you take me to bed.”

She shook her head at his antics. “What if I’m not feeling especially nice?”

Drew brushed his hand over her hip. “You’re right. You do feel naughty,” he agreed. Holding her stare, he bent closer, giving her time to protest his advance. The door opened at Aubree’s back. If she hadn’t hit the solid wall of Max’s chest, she might have ended up sprawled across the floor. Tilting back her head, she took note of the angry expression on Max’s face before switching her gaze back to Drew. His eyes danced with humor as he mouthed, “Denied,” and Aubree slapped her hand over her mouth to smother her giggles.

“Have a nice night, Drew.” Drew ignored Max’s snarling words.

“May I see you again?”

“I’d like that,” she answered without hesitation. Max growled. At the sound, Drew flashed him a cocky grin before giving her a wicked version of it and turning away. As soon as he moved out of the doorway, Max slammed it closed, focusing his ire on her. She’d never seen him truly angry before now. She laughed nervously.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” she answered, incredulous. “I’ve had two glasses of champagne all night.”

“Your face is flushed.”

Aubree shrugged. “I’m happy. I had a good time.”

Max prowled toward her. The hard set of his jaw caused a flutter of desire to run through her. “Did you forget who you came here with?”

Unable to think of a single retort, she shrugged again. “I’m young and single. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself?”

Max’s eyes flashed dangerously. His tone had a bite to it when he spoke. “You are not single.”

Author Bio:

Charity Parkerson is an award winning and multi-published author with Ellora's Cave Publishing. Born with no filter from her brain to her mouth, she decided to take this odd quirk and insert it in her characters.

*2013 Readers' Favorite Award Winner
*2013 Reviewers' Choice Award Winner
*ARRA Finalist for Favorite Paranormal Romance
*Five-time winner of The Mistress of the Darkpath
*Named one of the top 10 best books by an Indie author in 2011- Paranormal Reads Reviews
*Best Paranormal Romance of 2012- Paranormal Reads Reviews

Connect with her online:

--Website:

 http://www.charityparkerson.com

--Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorCharityParkerson

http://www.facebook.com/TheMenofSin

--Twitter:

http://www.twitter.com/CharityParkerso

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Navigating Nursing Homes

I hate nursing homes. I'll just say that right off the bat. Of course, I don't know anyone who loves them, but unfortunately, many of us will struggle with placing a loved one in nursing care at some point. I understand they serve a purpose, but I have rarely seen the care match the cost. The basic rate in California is currently $250.00 a day (some cost more), which works out to over $7,000.00 a month per person. I realize there are costs involved in running a facility, but there is no excuse for poor care.

Recently, I was forced to put my grandmother in a nursing home. She has been staying with board and care operators who have treated her like family for the last few years, but I knew her money would run out eventually, and it has. In addition, her health has declined, so board and care is no longer an option. She needs around the clock care, and she doesn't have enough money to pay privately.

The information in this blog is about nursing homes in northern California. I can't speak for other states or countries, although, with the internet, it's easy to do research on nursing homes (long term care facilities) in your area.

Many of the nursing homes here have both short term rehabilitation care and long term nursing care. My grandmother has been in several nursing homes for short term rehab while she was recovering from bladder infections and a fractured hip. What I've learned from those experiences is what I want to share with you.

1.   Do your homework: A simple Google search for long term care facilities in your area will often give a listing of nursing homes in your area along with other basic information (address, phone, number of beds, etc.). Some will also offer a star ratings based on things like staffing, health inspection, quality measures, etc. I found this one from Medicare that was really helpful. Also, make a list of the top three facilities, so you will have alternatives, since they may not have openings in the place you want to use when you need to move your loved one in.

2.   Visit the facility: No matter what it may say on the internet, it's important to see for yourself. Talk to the staff and other residents. Does the place look clean? Does it smell bad? Are the other residents clean and dressed appropriately? Go around mealtime and see what they are feeding the residents. Ask for a tour of the facilities. This isn't a guarantee either. The last place I had my grandmother in was beautiful and looked fabulous, but they were horrible when it came to care, but it needs to be done.

3.   Personal belongings: The short answer - don't take in anything you don't want to go missing. The first time I had to put my grandmother in a nursing home, just about everything she owned disappeared, including her cell phone, her glasses, her dentures, and almost all of her clothes and shoes. For short term rehab, only take the necessities. Most places have phones, so don't bring a cell if the patient isn't aware enough to keep track of it. For clothing, label everything! I used iron on tape near the factory labels and put my grandmother's name on it in big letters with a permanent marker, so it can be easily seen by staff. I did the same for her blankets. Take pictures of everything you take in. Facilities have a personal items inventory list that they have you sign. Make sure it's accurate. This last time, I did my own inventory list, cataloging everything in minute detail along with pictures and the cost of each item. I had the staff initial each one and sign the bottom. Overkill? Maybe, but my grandmother's been burned too many times. Her stuff may still come up missing, but at least this time, I have the proof I need to make the facility reimburse her. They also want you to sign the personal items inventory list on the way out. Don't sign for anything you don't have on the list.

4.   Visit often: This is a must if at all possible. They are more likely to care for your loved one if they know people are watching. I definitely have experience with this. Trust me, the care will be different if you make sure they know you will be checking on them.

5.   If you think there is a problem, or you think your loved one is being mistreated, don't hesitate to talk to the facility administrators. If you don't feel like the problem(s) has been resolved, or you think there is true abuse, contact your local state licensing agency or your state's Ombudsman. Every facility my grandmother has been in has had me sign a paper saying that we can't sue them. However, that doesn't mean that complaints can't be made. I did make a formal complaint to the California state licensing department over the care my grandmother received in the last nursing home. I was really relieved to see that the licensing people followed up and called me back with the results. The nursing home was at fault and was cited and fined for over $10,000. That didn't really help my grandmother, but hopefully, they will try to improve their care for the other patients they have.

6.   If you don't like the care your loved one is receiving, and your complaints to the administrators have not been resolved, move him/her to another facility.

My heart goes out to every family member who is having to deal with this right now, or who has a loved one already in long term care. Please feel free to add any tips or websites you think might be helpful. Thank you!