Every March for the past five years I’ve pored over, proof-read, and polished my then-favorite manuscript and entered it in the SCBWI work-in-progress contest. And then I’ve gone on to the next project and the next and the next until March rolls around again and I send in that year’s favorite.

So yesterday, when I received an email with “SCBWI WIP Winner!” in the subject line, my first thought was, “Oh, how nice. They’re sending me a list of the winners.” And I was right, they were.


I got the shakes. I cried. I’m still a little flummoxed. But I’m also very, very happy.

Of course, I’m hoping this leads to more, but even if it doesn’t, it was just the thing I needed. At just the time I needed it.

Now. It’s time to go work on the next project.

Love, Chris

Happy New Year!

Two years ago, Mike and I tried to get to the top of Snow Peak and failed miserably. Today we made it.

Just as we turned onto the logging road going up to the old fire lookout we came across this beauty. It flew along the road, just ahead of the Jeep, before finally taking off into the tree tops. It was a lovely welcome.


We hit snow part way up.


And more snow.


Just enough to let us know we weren’t alone.



And just the right amount to make for a lovely hike.

And a slippery final scramble to the top.


Where Cola showed us up.

But the view was worth it.

And the company was grand.


We did a little math and decided we’ve been coming up here for 40 years. Here’s to another 40.

Love, peace, and a long and happy life!



Epic Road Trip, 2018

Harvest is over, so we decided to hit the road.

First stop: Seven Feathers Casino to shake the claw of the Eagle. Forty bucks won’t get us far, but it was a fun way to start.


Then we headed to Mike’s favorite place:


To do his favorite thing:


After the big trees, the rest of the tip was all about rocks. Steaming, bubbling rocks:


Fenced in campground of rocks:


Endless “Loneliest Road” of rocks:

A Great Basin of rocks:


A Grand Canyon of rocks:

Some more road travel with nothing to see but rocks:


A river that runs through rocks:

A road that runs through rocks:


To a campground filled with amazing rocks:

And sandy roads bordered by rocks:20181011_163212

And a couple of crazy old people with rocks in their heads:

And amazing desert plants growing in the rocks:

Then on to a valley full of monumental rocks:

Where a man can sit on a horse on a high rock:


And then he can channel John Wayne and make his embarrassed wife pose for the camera:20181012_16301620181012_162612

In front of an amazing view in a great campground.

Then it’s on to Mexican Hat rocks:


Rock switchbacks out of a rock valley:

Into a park of rock bridges, Indian ruins, prickly hearts, and cactus blooms:

Through more rocky roads:


To Moab, where Mike rode his motorcycle where no man should and I took a day off to hang with Cola:20181011_174403

And then we entered a land of rocks and fun with Jeeps:

Where we nearly gave ourselves whiplash trying to see everything:

And I got the Jeep muddy so Mike could stop worrying about it because I’m that nice:


Before we climbed some wicked switchbacks:


So we could eat lunch here:


Then bounced down the road some more:

Until we could look back at our lunch stop from a different perspective:


And take a walk on the wild side:

Which made Cola very happy but scared the crap out of me because I was afraid she’d follow the bird shadows right off the edge:

And we were sure we heard a jet breaking the sound barrier, then saw the dust from a falling rock:


But I braved the edge anyway because I just had to get this shot:


And we survived it all with smiles on our faces:


Saw a bridge no one should walk on:


And then we gave the Jeep back and headed into the sunset in search of more rocks:


Which we found:

Along with a few new friends:

A beautiful night under the stars:


Some ancient graffiti:

And a very long road home:


With a lovely break to visit a favorite uncle in a very flat place:


And ended with a very welcome return to the land of trees:


It was fun, it was gorgeous, it was epic. And, as always, it’s good to be home.

Peace and love,



A lot of people sing the praises of Labrodoodles. Somehow, I got stuck with a Labroduck. But at least she’s a rare, red-beaked one.20180522_194557

Cola at 2 and a half.

Highlights Nature Retreat Highlights.

Nature Retreat for ALL Writers & Artists 2018

This summer, I applied for and was granted a full scholarship to the Highlights Foundation’s first ever Nature Retreat. It was magical.

To try to write about the entire experience would be to fill volumes. I decided to focus on ten highlights instead.


1. Jo, travel arranger extrordinaire, sent me my welcome e-mail with this little note at the end:

“I see you live on the West coast, and I recommend flying into Newark perhaps—we provide complimentary shuttle service…and if you need to arrive a day early, we can make that work.”

I responded:

“Could you let me know what coming in a day ahead of time would cost? Thank you!”

Her response:


No charge this time for coming a day early…know you have long travel time.”

The very first communication I had with this wonderful organization made me cry.


2. Linda, of the complimentary shuttle service, picked me up at the airport.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Oregon.” I answered.

“Wow! I lived in Oregon in the early 80’s.”

“Small world! Which part?”


I break out in goosebumps. “No way! That’s the biggest town close to where I live.”

“So, where exactly do you live?” Sharon asked.

“Between Salem and Silverton, little community called Pratum,” I answered.

“Hmmm. That sounds familiar. You know, there was this Mennonite farmer who had a basketball court in the top of his barn. My husband and I would go out there and play, sometimes.”

By now, I’m one big goosebump and I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out if there could possibly be two basketball barns near Pratum.

“Linda, that’s the farm I grew up on.”



We fist bump like kids, grinning from ear to ear.


3.   Sue Heavenrich, there with her critique partners doing an unworkshop, after I tell her I saw a millipede, immediately says:

“Don’t eat it!”

You know, I’ve never in my life looked at a bug and wondered if it was safe to eat. 

I do now. 


4. In each cabin is a notebook full of notes from previous occupants. I’m flipping through, reading their testimonials, and come to this page.20180805_163333

Ingrid Sundberg, you will never know how much this means to me. How, all my life, I’ve struggled with feeling like I was enough. How I’ve gotten so much better at feeling like I’m actually plenty, but lately have been questioning if I am enough as a writer, and how this trip is partly to help me figure this out.

And here is my answer, in writing no less.

I am enough.


5. If you ever are so lucky as to get the chance to meet Kate Garchinsky, ask her what the owl says. Because this lady speaks their language. And she showed us how it’s done on a walk straight out of a fairy tale. A forest concert with katydids on percussion, fireflies in charge of the light show, and Kate and the owls in a full on call and response song that filled the air.


Now, when I walk in the woods and darkness is falling, I listen for owls. Better yet, I’m learning to talk back.


6. Chip took us out for a walk around the grounds and talked about taking pictures. It was a lesson in slowing down, paying attention, and being persistent. 



7. Mike and I have often bemoaned the fact there is no barn on our farm. We drive the countryside, looking at barns and saying, “That one! That one would look great up on the hill!” But none of them have ever compared to this one.



8. Dairy farms have cows, and cows only give milk if they’ve given birth. So, dairy farms also have calves. Do you know how much fun I had introducing my city friends to the slippery, slimy joy of a calf nursing on your fingers? Sometimes I forget that I’m living a pretty amazing life on my little farm. After all, it’s a lot of work and that part sometimes overwhelms me. But this was a good reminder.



9. I’m not a water person. (Well, except for showers. I can stay in the shower until the hot water runs out.) But deep water, flowing water, water that is WAAAAY bigger than me? Nope. I’ll stay on dry land, thank you.

However, one of my stories is about fear, and how it can both stop you from doing things, and drive you forward into doing things. So, in the name of research, I went kayaking on the Delaware while it was the color of coffee and just below flood stage. I saw eagles, dodged a rock, managed to let go of my paddle long enough to dip my fingers in the water, and, most importantly, I didn’t drown. Am I a kayaking convert?


No. The fear runs too deep. That’s me in the background, death grip on my paddle, so focused on going in a straight line I forgot to kick back and have fun.


But I did it. And the next time I am faced with doing something I fear, I’ll remember kayaking. And how I lived to talk about it. And hopefully it will make moving forward into that fear a little easier.


10. My fellow Nature Retreaters. There are not enough words to describe our short time together, but I’ve tried to capture just a few that, for me, describe the gift each of you gave me while eating and playing and laughing in a magical place in the Poconos. 

Carol: Maybe being a farmer and a writer isn’t so weird after all. Here’s proof!


Deborah: Find a way.


Chuck: Do what you love. (Like going fishing instead of visiting a flower farm.)


Nicole: See the world and all its wonders.


Sharon: Live out loud, laugh out loud, and sing with your whole body. (How I wish this photo was of you singing about a moose drinking juice.)


Myrna: Speak out.


Kate: Ask. The answer might be yes.


Kim: Yes. It is real.


Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.


Peace and Love,



#50PreciousWords 2018 Writing Challenge

Vivian Kirkfield issued a challenge and I accepted! A complete story, beginning, middle, and end, in 50 words. Enjoy!



by Chris M. Regier

The hay field was empty.
“Hey.” Patience bleated.
They’d been robbed!
“Hey!” Patience bellered.
Anxious to alert the farmer, she didn’t notice the bale wagon disappearing into the barn.
“HEY!” Patience bawled.
Hoarse and hungry, she finally trudged home.
Into a barn bursting with wispy, wonderful…


Last fall, on a camping trip, my husband found a rock painted with a mandala design. On the back was the hashtag #WCPR and the phrase, “Keep, or re-hide.”

I did a little research and discovered that WCPR stands for “West Coast Painted Rocks” and painting and hiding rocks as random acts of kindness is their mission.

And just like that, I had a new hobby.

Last night I hid painted Valentine rocks at the local grade school. This morning, I got love in return. Best. Investment. Ever.


Even better? I’ve been asked to come to school and teach the kids how to paint rocks. And to tell them why I hide them for others to find.

Because it’s fun.

Because it’s kind.

Because it’s love.

Rock on!