Category Archives: writing

Best of Both Worlds By Maribeth Shanley

Life is full of surprises. Some things you plan; and, well, some things turn up as complete surprises!

When Bob and I first discussed where we were going to retire, we had three destinations on our list.

We lived in the Nashville, TN area, so we decided that we might stay in the area but purchase a refurbished house in the historic district. Our second choice was in the Smokie Mountains area. In particular, we thought about living near the city of Gatlinburg. Our third choice was to move to Myrtle Beach, S.C.

As we weighed our choices, we decided that we loved both the ocean and the mountains. Thus, we decided to move to the Myrtle Beach area and then, later, purchase or build a small cabin in the Gatlinburg area which lies on the north side of the Smokie Mountains.

We loved Nashville, but it didn’t have anything more to offer us. Gatlinburg did. So did Myrtle Beach. Had we stayed in Nashville, we would have had to travel to both Gatlinburg as well as to Myrtle Beach. Gatlinburg was about four hours away, and Myrtle Beach was twelve hours away. Retiring in Nashville was the first casualty of our decision.

Gatlinburg was where Bob, I and all our critters had spent at least ten Christmases. The town is lit up like a fairytale during the season, and there’s so much to see in the area. On the other hand, it gets cold in the winter. Sometimes it snows. Did we want to be cold in the winter and shovel snow? The answer was no. Thus, the decision to permanently relocate to Myrtle Beach, yet purchase or build a small cottage in the Gatlinburg area became our plan.

We’ve lived in Myrtle Beach going on four years. We love it here. We both love the beach and, although we only went to the beach twice this year, we have promised each other that next year, we will go more often. I much prefer the ocean over a crowded pool. Plus, I love that, regardless of the time of year, there’s always an ocean breeze.

As we considered our small place in Gatlinburg, one day we walked out of our garage to see that our neighbor three doors up had an RV parked in front of their house. Martin, the husband, was out at the vehicle, so we strolled up to say hi. As we stood in his driveway talking to him, Linda, his wife strolled out with a tub of items she was carrying to the RV. They were headed out the following morning for a two-week jaunt to Montana. The couple invited us to look inside, which we did. After a long discussion about how they have enjoyed their RV and planned to go away at least once each month for a week or two, we walked back to our house.

I usually make all the financial decisions. I don’t recall how that happened. However, I seem to be the one who can make things happen. Bob lovingly refers to me as the CFO. I usually chuckle when he does.

The more I thought about Linda and Martin’s RV the more I liked the idea. Over the past four years, I managed to pay off everything, including a new car and jeep. Also, we own our home. We did that by cashing in two of our 401 plans. As I thought about an RV vs. a small cottage in the mountains, I thought, A cottage would be nice, but it would be a static venue. On the other hand, an RV would mean we could plan trips to many places, including the Gatlinburg area. It made sense to me to go the RV route vs. buying a second home and feeling compelled to use it vs. visit other areas of the country.

I brought up the issue to Bob, and he agreed with my reasoning. I then talked to Linda. She told me that they had made the same decision, i.e., purchase an RV vs. a permanent cottage in the mountains. They loved the freedom of their RV.

It didn’t take much more consideration before Bob, and I made the decision, then the leap to go purchase an RV.  We now own a 29 ft. RV that could sleep up to eight people. In other words, it’s big enough for us and all our critters, two small dogs, two cats, and four parrots.

RV
We purchased our RV four months ago. Our first trip was up to a campground in North Carolina. It was a trip we made where we stayed five nights for free, and it was part of the purchase of our RV.  Little did we know, there was a catch. We had to sit through a sales presentation where we could join Travel Resorts of America. We weren’t all that pumped up about sitting through the presentation and were pretty sure we wouldn’t join. So, on day two, a fella came by our site in a golf cart and took us around the campgrounds showing us all the amenities. As we sat through the presentation, I began to realize it was a very good deal for not as much money than it would cost us over the long run if we didn’t join.

After the presentation, Bob and I discussed our options. We managed to buy one of their packages which gives us free stays at three of their eight sites anytime we want to visit the sites. The three sites define our three “home bases,” which are free to use for as long as we want each trip. Also, we get to stay at the remaining five sites for $10/day anytime we want to visit. The sites are located in various States up and down the east coast.

On top of that, we have access to some other sites that are part of the Travel Resorts of America across the country for only $10/day. Normally, campsites cost $40-50 per day, and that doesn’t include the gas you purchase to get to and from the sites. So, we signed up.

We’ve been camping every month for the past four months and enjoying every minute of our new adventure. Three of those trips have been at our home-base campgrounds. Thus, those camping fees have added up to $0. One of those trips was a trip up to Ohio.

Hurricane Florence was due to come onshore, and as it moved toward the SC/NC shores, it was scheduled to be a category three hurricane. We had already experienced a category one hurricane two summers ago, and after moving into our current home, we decided a category three hurricane would be far scarier. The category one was scary enough.

At first, Bob wanted to stay home. However, after we purchased a generator for $900, and discovered that the generator would only power up one appliance and one lamp, we changed our minds. Being newcomers to natural disasters, we thought a generator would power up the entire house. So, once we realized the limited capacity of the outrageously expensive generator, we decided to take it back, get a refund and call one of our three home bases, to escape the hurricane.

We called the campground in NC where we first stayed. They were under a flood warning, so, we called the Ohio facility which was not one of our home bases. We discovered, however,  that they were offering members a free stay vs. the normal $10/day fee as a “hurricane” courtesy. We spent the following day, pulling in everything from the outside and securing them in our garage and house. We then loaded up our RV and headed out.

When the hurricane hit, the Myrtle Beach area basically suffered a category one. The brunt of the hurricane caused far more damage in North Carolina. Nonetheless, we didn’t have to sit through even the scary winds and rain of a category one hurricane. Plus, we thoroughly enjoyed our four days stay in Ohio where we will return to stay again and enjoy some of their amenities like horseback riding.

Reg. Pilot Mtn

Recently, we spent four days in North Carolina at a campground for which we paid the full charge. However, it was still a great trip. We camped at the base of Pilot Mountain in North Carolina and only fifty miles south of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

Pilot Mountain is beautiful, especially when the morning skies to the south are lit up with the pink of a rising sun, causing the granite rock that juts up on the top of the  mountain to appear pink as well.

The temperatures were crisp during the evenings. The days were cool but pleasant. It was pleasant sleeping under a few quilts with our two dogs and cats sharing the bed with us.

Our birds also enjoyed the trip. Their three cages sit above the cab, and we always bring plenty of covers to keep them cozy and warm during the evening. Our African Grey parrot, Jasper, especially likes traveling in the RV. His cage sits next to the window, so he can watch outside as we drive down the highway. He sings and talks the entire time. The cats love to travel as well. They spend most of the drive time under the driver’s and passenger’s seats. It’s warm under there. The dogs love it too.
When Bob drives, Slugger, our thirteen-year-old Schnauzer sleeps in his bed the entire trip up and back. Our other Schnauzer Bailey, who is still a puppy, takes advantage of me by climbing up on my lap. I don’t mind at all. This last trip, I drove both ways. Bailey slept on a pad in between Bob and me. Bob’s not the sucker I am. He prefers no pets wiggling around on his lap.

We’ve decided to stay home for Thanksgiving. We were planning a trip to the Outer Banks. However, we decided to add on to our downstairs patio instead. We’ll visit the Outer Banks next summer when we can go swimming in the ocean.

For Christmas, we’ve decided to spend it in our favorite Christmas town, Gatlinburg. We’ll stay in a campground just outside the town. We tow our Jeep whenever we camp. The Jeep gives us lots of mobility.

This next year we plan to take a trip up the east coast, all the way to Maine. Along the way, we’ll stop in Rhode Island, my birth State. I want to visit the beach I used to go to as well as eat clam cakes at Aunt Carrie’s not far from the beach, Sandy Point. It’s beautiful along the beach route which will give me a little bit of nostalgia and will introduce Bob to a part of the country he hasn’t traveled.

In a year or two, we plan a big adventure. Bob has traveled out west. I have as well, but only by air. I was once at the edge of the Rocky Mountains where I picked up my brother and his girlfriend and brought them back to where we lived in Illinois. However, I was only able to get a small glimpse of the Rockies.   A trip out west will  be a spectacular adventure for me. We’ll drive out by taking the northern route, then return traveling through the southern route. We’ll get to see a lot of the west, and we’ll take our time doing it. We’re talking about a month-long trip.

Despite the threat of hurricanes, we’re happy we chose to live at the beach. Fortunately, the Myrtle Beach coastline is indented, so it misses many of the hurricanes. When they do come on shore, they are the tail of the storm. We’re also happy we now have a means of enjoying the Smokie Mountains and Gatlinburg. Also, we will be taking a trip back to Nashville to see some of our friends and enjoying some of our old stomping grounds. Best of all, we will do all of that and more while driving our rolling home while towing our Jeep enabling us to go wherever we want while we’re camping.

We have indeed discovered the best of both worlds. We live at the beach.  Plus, it has been a wonderful, unplanned surprise to realize we have lots of trips to look forward to in our future.

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Filed under fun, Maribeth Shanley, Travel, writing

The Latest Buzz on Books by Sherrie Hansen

 

Please indulge me… I don’t mean to brag, but both of these reviews were recently posted on Amazon Canada by a new reader of my books. They touched me so deeply that I wanted to share them with you. If you’ve questioned what my books are about, or whether or not you should try reading one of them, perhaps this will help. Thank you in advance.

Daybreak in Denmark (3)

NIGHT and DAY

“Sherrie Hansen’s book Night and Day blew me away.

This was my Sunday afternoon read and the storytelling was so engaging I didn’t stop turning the pages until I was finished. But it still me kept me up late into the night because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

This NEVER happens to me! First, I can’t remember the last time I finished a book in one sitting! Second, it’s rare that I lose sleep over a book unless I’m reading it!

Night and Day is not a typical contemporary romance novel. It is sophisticated, mature, exceptionally written, and deeply, emotionally engaging. I am not a romantic, not really, but Night and Day has me questioning my cynicism, believing in romance, and seeing men through a new lens.

Sherrie Hansen is not only a beautiful storyteller, but she is also an accomplished writer. Her characters are vivid, realistic people that carry the weight of their pasts into their current lives. I identified and bonded with Jensen, a late-30s unmarried woman clinging to her roots while at the same time aware that time is ticking and she’s failing to realize her dream of having a family and a happy ever after.

Jensen leapt off the pages for me and became real, a friend I wanted to have, a woman I wanted to be. Jensen has little character quirks that if not well-written (and seldom are) can be off-putting, but under Hansen’s careful handling, they become endearing, sometimes a little maddening, but an integral part of who Jensen is and what makes her so believable.

Night and Day (1)

Jensen is loved by two men – Ed, who gives her the physical love she needs, but his own painful past prevents him from letting go emotionally and Anders, who loves her with all his heart, who tells her in his words and his emotional support but can’t be a presence in her life because they are separated by distance and their own stubbornness.

The story is so skillfully handled that I couldn’t predict the outcome until towards the end of the book. And it wasn’t a prediction by then, it was Hansen leading me to its beautiful conclusion.

Another element to this book that’s important to note is the deep ties Jensen has to her past, to her great-grandmother, Maren, who emigrated to the US from Denmark. A bundle of letters written by Maren in Danish tell a story of love, romance and difficult choices. Hansen deftly weaves the two love stories together using the letters as a catalyst for the growing relationship between Jensen and Anders. It’s beautifully done.

Night and Day is an emotional rollercoaster of a romance novel. It’s contemporary but set in the early days of internet, when dial-up connections were slow and unreliable. This is a clever inclusion as it adds an intense element to the story telling, an atypical roadblock on the often, rocky path to love.

I think this was Hansen’s first book and it is so obvious that she wrote it with love in her heart. I did not want this book to end, ever. I didn’t want to let go of Jensen’s story. I cannot wait to read Daybreak, Sherrie Hansen’s sequel to Night and Day. I just have to wait for another lazy Sunday afternoon because I have no doubt how I will be spending it.”

Quilt - bear

DAYBREAK

“Sherrie Hansen is a storyteller and understands the vagaries of life in all its messiness. She doesn’t write perfect characters which ironically is what makes her characters perfect.

They are right and wrong in their thoughts, their relationships, their selfishness and their desires. They struggle with the difficulties they encounter, get side-tracked by them so badly sometimes that they lose sight of the big picture. Like every single one of us!

Daybreak - N&D

It’s almost impossible to review this book and do justice to it at the same time. It had me on an emotional roller-coaster from page one because the interplay and conflict between the characters is so identifiable.

This extended to the relationship between Jensen and her parents, Jensen and Anders, Jensen and Bjorn (her stepson), Anders and his son, Anders and his boss and so on.

Daybreak sunset

It subtly showed that life is not perfect and that sometimes everything spins out of control in a way that takes you away from what you believed were your dreams, your beliefs, your priorities. In their desire not to hurt one another, Jensen and Anders do exactly that. Their story left me fuming and crying and frustrated. But also made me reflect on my own behaviour towards the ones I love and what truly is important in life.

Finally, this book, like Night and Day, was beautifully written and exceptionally edited, two critical components of a five-star book.

I shall be reading a lot more of Ms. Hansen’s books.”

Sherrie - book signing

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Filed under fiction, Sherrie Hansen, writing

Project Done by John E. Stack

Hi All.  It has been a while since I have been here, but I went through a rough time with lots of stuff on my mind and just not in the mood to write.  Anyway, I decided that it was time to once again try my hand at writing.

Last summer (2017), I undertook a remodeling project in our master bedroom and bathroom.  I waited all summer to build a door that would serve as the entrance to our master bathroom.   After everything else was complete I was able to start the door.  It took a while but since I was designing it as I went along that was okay.  The hardest part was getting the rail installed correctly since the instructions assumed that I knew a lot about installing barn doors.  Well, I finally completed the construction and finished the door with a paint wash (mix of 1/2 paint and 1/2 water).  It really allowed the grain in the door panels to pop.  I was pleased and Nana was pleased.

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Then, Suzanne (Nana) found a cabinet that she really liked.  It had a barn door covering half the front but was much larger and heavier than what we had room for.  Anyway, I had some time at the end of summer to start work on redesigning the cabinet and to start building.  I decided I would take their suggestion of using pocket screws and glue for assembly.  This would keep any of the screws from being visible and fewer holes to be plugged or filled.  Before the end of August, I was about 90% complete, but had to stop due to school starting.  Isn’t it funny how work really interferes with what you really want to do?  This is as far as I got…

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I knew that I needed to find time to work on it but with school going full force and life itself finding extra time was difficult.  Then we had a hurricane and our district decided to play it safe and close school on a Thursday and Friday.  Mostly, the weather was beautiful, so… I worked on my cabinet and finally completed it.  I did a paint wash on this one to match the original door, mounted the hardware and door and school started again.  This was as far as I got…

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Well, only a short time went by and I was able to get it hung in place.  I do need to replace the pully bolts with some a little longer, but it is now complete and being used.  The left side hides supplies behind the door like deodorant, TP, cleaner, etc.  Sooner or later the right side will be used for some type of decoration.  I’m happy with it and Nana really likes it.  So, it was worth the time taken to construct it.  I did cut some corners from the original plan.  Instead of using 3/4 inch plywood, I used 1/8 inch plywood which was a lot lighter (it was heavy without the back).

Instead of buying a hardware kit, I fabricated the hardware from two 1 inch iron bars and two clothes line pulleys.  I cut it to size and painted everything black.  It’s not fancy but it works.  Here is my finished product…

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I also designed it to be hung using a cleat so if we moved we could take it with us.  Sometimes you can’t leave all that hard work and creativity behind.  I hope you all have a great week.

***John E. Stack is the author of Cody’s Almost Trip to the Zoo, Olivia’s Sweet Adventure, and Cody’s Rescue Adventure at the Zoo.

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Filed under children's books, fun, John Stack, life, writing

Hurry-Cane Michael

For a couple of days now, I’ve been glued to my TV trying to keep up with the latest movement of Hurricane Michael. I live in New Port Richey, Florida, close to the Gulf of Mexico in west-central Florida. It’s 3:30 in the afternoon on this tenth of October, 2018 and we are experiencing bands of gusty rain squalls from this storm, which is almost 500 miles northwest of here, as the crow flies. I’m quite safe, but what has had me so intent on my TV screen is friends who are not.

One friend, along with his family, lives and owns a grocery store in the Apalachicola, Florida area, just about dead center of “ground zero.” Another friend is visiting her friends in Crawfordville, directly south of Tallahassee, not far from Michael, who has, at this point, just gained landfall as a Category 4 hurricane, just one mile-per-hour shy of a Category 5. That’s 155 miles per hour that it is spinning and causing havoc! Can you believe that? The weathercasters are saying this storm is one of three of the strongest storms in history to breach an American coastline.

I went through Hurricane Irma last year and that experience is still fresh in my mind. And as a Floridian since 2002, I’ve ridden through a few hurricanes and tropical storms since I moved here.

Some people have asked me why I would choose to live in such a dangerous place. I’ve actually thought about the answer to that question and have decided there really isn’t a place I’d want to live that is any safer, these days, anyway. I grew up in NJ. There’s snow there and hurricanes too. I’ve lived in Indiana where there are ticks in the grass. Ewww! I know, poor excuse. Montana got down to 50 degrees-below-zero the first winter I spent there and I vividly remember a storm that produced baseball sized hail right after I planted hollyhocks. Grrrr! I lived a couple of places in Texas where I had to deal with scorpions in one place and pigeon mites in another. Alabama was pretty safe except I moved from there to be closer to my son as I grew older.

My conclusion is every place will have advantages and disadvantages and now that I’m here, I’m stayin! I like the warmer weather until summer hits and I’m truly blessed to have a neighbor behind me who has a hurricane-safe-rated house. So, last year, during Irma, I sat securely in her house keeping an eye open on my house. Everything turned out okay and the only thing I lost was a wonderful old backyard hedge, which I replaced with a vinyl fence.

My friends I was worried about, I’m still worried about because I’ve gotten word they have lost power. So, at this point, my action calls for heavy prayer, but actually, that’s the action I started out with and it usually works the best. Please help me pray? I’d appreciate it!

Update: It’s Thursday the 11th and I heard late last night that my friends are safe. Thank goodness. I’m continuing to pray for all those others who have gone through this monstrous storm, and I also pray that Hurricane Michael will hurry out of the U.S. so we can start the healing process.

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Filed under musings, writing

How Did the U.S. Arrive at an Impasse? By Maribeth Shanley

In the era of Donald Trump and the Evangelical Republicans, we keep hearing that candidates and their voters have become divided into two distinctive camps.  Hatred of the other camp has become that divide.  The empty Supreme Court seat left vacant first by Justice Scalia and then by Justice Kennedy have become the pinnacle battleground for the two camps.  How did we get here?

Having no credentials to discuss the history of this impasse, I still have thought long and hard about how we have turned our backs on reaching across the aisle to become two closed, armed camps.  Even our closed arm posture signals how closed off to political compromise we have become. 

Trump folded arms2     Trump folded arms

When did we become so closed off from each other politically and ideologically?

I believe it began with the inauguration of our first non-white, African American president, Barack Husein Obama.  Ironically, the birth of the impasse was born during the first period in our U.S. history when equality had shown itself in all its glory. 

In 1863, as our nation approached its third year of civil war, President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation.  The proclamation declared “that all persons held as slaves” within the rebellious states “are, and henceforward shall be free.”

With President Obama’s election and 2009 inauguration, it seemed that we the people had finally ripped up one of our last and most brutal forms of hatred, and contempt for a group of people, most of whom arrived in the U.S. in chains.  We had our first African American president. 

As President Obama began to serve his first four years, he went to work trying to repair the broken economy that coincided with the 2008 stock market collapse which followed in the wake of 2007 housing market crash.   The Tea Party movement reared its ugly head immediately after Obama’s 2009 announcement of his plans to give financial aid to bankrupt homeowners.

A major force behind the movement was a group called the Americans for Prosperity, a conservative political advocacy group founded by businessman and political activist David H. Koch of the infamous Koch brothers. 

Following the announcement of the financial bailout of bankrupt homeowners, on February 19, 2009, CNBC reporter Rick Santelli, while reporting from the floor of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange, called for a “tea party,” a reference to the 1773 rebellious action taken in Boston, MA.   On December 16, 1773, angry colonists acted out the protest directed at Colonial Britain for imposing “taxation without representation.” The rebels dumped 342 chests of British tea into the harbor.

The 2009 Santelli call to action inspired over fifty conservative activists to unite against Obama’s agenda as they scheduled a series of protests, including the 2009 Taxpayer March on Washington.  This union of conservative and libertarian activists encouraged sympathizers and supporters to carry forth the protests turning the ultra-right sentiment into a movement that began to impact and infiltrate the internal politics of the Republican Party.  Although the Tea Party isn’t a separate or independent party, members of the Tea Party Caucus vote like a significantly farther right party than do the established members of the GOP.  Today those Tea Party politicians are referred to as the Freedom Caucus in the House of Representatives.

That ultra conservative sentiment and ultra-right voting tendency came full force into view after the 2010 mid-term election when the Republicans beat out the Democrats across the nation and took over the majority vote in the House.  An interesting admonition of this election was the deplorable turnout of registered Democratic Party voters. 

Statistics demonstrate that Democrats don’t vote as religiously as do Republicans, especially during non-presidential elections, i.e., mid-term elections.  Where the voter turnout during the 2008 General election hit a 40-year high, largely due to the overwhelming popularity of Barack Obama, the turnout during the 2010 Midterm election suffered dramatically.  In 2008, 57.1% of the voting-age population cast ballots; but, two years later, the cast votes dropped to only 36.9% of the voter population.  Then a rebound in voter turnout occurred in 2012 when Obama ran for his second term.  The turn out for President Obama during both the 2008 and 2012 general elections was due largely to Obama’s campaign success in expanding the electorate through successful inspiration to turn out both new voters and black voters.  Again, however, during the 2014 mid-term elections, voter turnout dropped dramatically resulting in the lowest turnout in seventy years.  Generally, Republican turnout during midterms is three percent higher than the Democrat turnout.  Following that pattern, the Democratic Party lost the Senate to the GOP in 2014.

During the Obama era, something more subtle was in the works.  There was resentment among many white groups within the population.  That racial divide was always there. However, it again became evident during the Obama presidency, and it began almost immediately.  Several incidents prove as definitive evidence of the still vibrant racial divide.

For example, that divide became evident the moment  President Obama declared in July 2009 that a white police officer acted “stupidly.” The police officer answered a call to investigate a possible break-in at the home of  Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr.   

It seems that, upon arriving home from a trip to China, Gates found a jammed front door. Gates and his driver began to push the door in, leading a neighbor to call the police to report a break-in.  Sparked by failed communication and acute misunderstanding on the part of both parties, the arrest was the result.  That arrest created a national discussion around racial profiling which is still a current topic whenever there is a white police officer involved in an incident with a black adult male where the black male winds up killed.  Later it was determined that the incident was a mixture of cause and effect that was fueled by the mix of race (white officer and black “offender”), class (professor and police officer), and displaced respect on both parts as well as the element of police authority.  The professor who felt he was being mistreated based on his race soon realized he was not in control of the situation.  Instead, due to his role of authority, the police officer was in control.

Of course, the racial issue was at the center of a secret meeting, headed up by Mitch McConnell.  During that meeting, McConnell and the other GOP members swore they would do all they could to prevent the reelection of Obama.  After all, there was a subtle shiver running through much of the white population in the U.S.  The shiver was the utter shock that a black man was now sitting in the White House. 

Probably the most notorious example of GOP obstruction came during Obama’s nomination of Judge Merrick Garland as the successor of the late Justice Antonin Scalia.  Republicans refused even to allow the interviewing of Garland, leaving the seat vacant for the duration of Obama’s presidency, March 16, 2016, through January 3, 2017.  One of the major excuses used by McConnell was that 2016 represented an election year which meant a lame-duck president shouldn’t have the opportunity to seat a new Supreme Court Justice.  Never mind that in 2018, also an election year, the man who sits in the White House and who is under investigation for multiple alleged offensives has been allowed to nominate a justice for the seat vacated by retired Justice Anthony Kennedy.  Such is the power of the majority party who, through the apathy of Democratic Party voters who chose to sit out the 2014 mid-term elections thus giving the majority to the GOP.  It is that same party of course which remained as the majority after the 2016 election of the outrageous phenomenon called Donald Trump.

Speaking of the Donald, it was he who stirred up the birther issue in which President Obama’s origin became questionable.  Trump is a notorious conspiracy theory believer.  Given his propensity toward conspiracy theories, it is not a coincidence that during Obama’s presidency, he was plagued by other trumped up conspiracy theories such as the allegations that he secretly practices Islam.  After all his middle name is Hussein.  How much proof is needed to prove his real religion?  

There were also other minor conspiracy theories such as the belief among some that Obama was the antichrist of Christian eschatology which portends the end of times.  All those conspiracy theories were believed not only by uneducated people, but they were completely embraced by educated people as well.  Especially true was the birther issue which laid claim that President Obama was not born in Hawaii, but instead his mother gave birth to him while living in Kenya and that his birth certificate was a fake.

The biggest irony of all was the election of Mr. Birther himself, Donald J. Trump.  During the first two years of Trump’s presidency, he has been responsible for fueling the fire of divide.  He is notorious for holding rallies even when they are unnecessary.  Those rallies, however, give the ultimate producer of TV the opportunity to keep his base of 30-some-percent voters riled up.  Ironically, many of those voters voted for Obama twice.  However, during the last few decades, those voters have felt ignored and left behind.  Many of them come from industries that are fast becoming obsolete.  Where presidential candidate Hillary Clinton promised to retrain those workers needing to be retrained, Trump has spent his first two years bringing back or fortifying the obsolete industries that employed these voters. 

Realistically though, if a person thinks about the events of the last ten years, and given all the consternation surrounding the Obama administration, it was predictable that a female president could never follow the first black president.  That is the case especially given that the opposing candidate is the conspiracy theorist himself, Donald J. Trump. 

Trump has also spent his first two years playing out his insane jealousy toward Barack Obama as he deliberately undoes as many advancements Obama accomplished during his tenure.   Trump is a consummate narcissist who spends his time carping and disparaging anyone who criticizes him.  He spends his time either watching TV and tweeting subjecting all of us to his lack of knowledge, refusal to learn and, in general, chaotic craziness.  His only accomplishment is the fear he has instilled in the GOP members of his party so that, a Representative or Senator has only two choices, continue to work toward reelection or quit as in retire.  Even the older, more conventional GOP members run scared of Trump’s threats to primary them.  Lindsey Graham is one of those who tow the Trump line to keep his job.  Until we can be rid of Trump and have a more stable, sensible career politician in the White House, we are doomed to continue to live as a divided people.

*  *  *  *

(Note:  Here is an interesting piece of modern history.  Until February 7, 2013, the state of Mississippi had never submitted the required documentation to ratify the Thirteenth Amendment, meaning it never officially had abolished slavery. The amendment was adopted in December 1865 after the necessary three-fourths of the then 36 states voted in favor of ratification. (https://abcnews.go.com/blogs/headlines/2013/02/mississippi-officially-abolishes-slavery-ratifies-13th-amendment/)

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Filed under history, Maribeth Shanley, writing

Why Wildflowers? by Sherrie Hansen

SW 57

Perhaps I carried a bouquet of goldenrod for good luck at some point in my life, because I certainly feel lucky to have visited Scotland three times – so far.

Scot - Callendish stones

As fans of Outlander know, most books set in Scotland revolve around highlanders, kilts, and keeps. My Wildflowers of Scotland novels (Thistle Down, a novella, Wild Rose, Blue Belle, Shy Violet, Sweet William, and Golden Rod) are modern-day mixtures of romance and suspense with the Scottish countryside as a backdrop.

Wildflowers - Stripes

They’re also colorful tales, rich in symbolism of wildflowers.

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There are plenty of dark, misty vales, cold, stone castles, and drab, colorless cottages scattered through Scotland. What I love most about the wee wildflowers of Scotland is that they provide the perfect bit of contrast, a much needed dash of color to an otherwise harsh landscape. I hope you can see the Scotland I love in the bouquet of wildflowers I’ve picked for you.

Thistle

THISTLE DOWN – A common, prickly, purple thistle saved the day when an Englishman doing reconnaissance stepped on a particularly thorny specimen and let out a howl, alerting Scottish guards to an imminent invasion by the English. We can all be a bit oblivious at times, especially when we’re up against hard rock on one side and well, hard rock on the other side, too. There’s nothing like the sharp bite of a prickly plant to make you appreciate what you have and see the beauty in your own backyard.

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Such is the premise for my novella, Thistle Down when tenderhearted Pastor Ian MacCraig tries to keep a pair of prickly sisters from marrying the wrong men. Emily Downey has found the perfect groom. If only she loved the man… Chelsea Downey is wild about her boyfriend. Trouble is, he’s two-timing her and everyone sees it but her. Their thorny situation gets even stickier when the church ladies come up with a plan. Can Pastor Ian MacCraig weed out the thistles and get to the heart of the matter in time to save the day?

 

 

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WILD ROSE – Wild roses symbolize perfect happiness, love at first sight, joy and gladness, and happy, forever love. Like other wildflowers, they’re hardy, stubborn and determined to find a foothold whether they be planted atop a stone wall, set amongst ruins, or left to fend for themselves along the side of the motorway. But even the sturdiest of wildflowers can be trampled on when their generous hearts are abused by ones not so honest or caring.

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Such was the case when Rose Wilson learned that Digby, the online friend she met for what she thought was a harmless rendezvous, was a common criminal. Enter Pastor Ian MacCraig, who is trying to capture the thief who is stealing artifacts from his kirk (Saint Conan’s on Loch Awe, Scotland.) The last thing he expects to find on his video is a woman engaging in a passionate romp under the flying buttresses. Rose is mortified and the church ladies are appalled to learn that Pastor Ian, the board of Wilson Enterprises, the constable, and half the town have had a glimpse of Rose half naked. What remains to be seen is how far Ian will go to defend Rose’s honor and if the church ladies will forgive Rose now that they know who she really is… and if Rose can believe she’s worthy of someone as good and kind as Ian MacCraig. Are Wild Rose and Pastor Ian MacCraig a match made in heaven or one hell of a predicament?

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BLUE BELLE – Bluebells are one of my favorite flowers. The first harbingers of spring, they’re known for their humility, kindness and constancy. They’re as down-to-earth as my characters, and like any springtime bloomer, all the sweeter because you have to endure a bit of weather each year before they return.

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Just as bluebells hide in off-the-beaten path forest glens, Isabelle has traveled to the ends of the earth to try to escape her past. Psychologist Michael is also hiding out, as far removed from his relatives and his practice in Wisconsin as he can get. When Damon starts searching for the centuries-old gold he thinks is buried at Tobermory Bay, it won’t matter what walls Michael and Isabelle think they are hiding behind. Rocks will fall. Castles will crumble. No secret will be safe. Set in colorful Tobermory, Scotland, on the Isle of Mull, it becomes very clear in Blue Belle that timing is everything – and that sometimes, you just have to jump.

 

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SHY VIOLET – Eilean Donan Castle, near Dornie, Scotland, is a modest castle – not as big, old, nor fancy as many, Eilean Donan is subtle and understated as castles go. Perhaps that’s why it’s grown to be so iconic. In Scotland, it’s “aboot” the simple, everyday things of life, pleasures born both of need and necessity. That’s why, if you keep your eyes open, you’re sure to see majesty galore in nature’s quiet offerings… a shy violet hiding behind a rock, a blush of heather in the hills, a splash of rhododendrons growing deep in the woods.

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Maybe that’s why shy Violet has been so long overlooked in her search for true love even though her name signifies that her thoughts are occupied with the fanciful notion. Violet has always put great stock in the virtues of modesty and faithfulness – particularly faithful love. But that ship has sailed right along with the pirate boat Violet jumped aboard, thinking she could hide from a string of bad decisions in her past. Violet didn’t even know Nathan existed when she inadvertently met his father and ruined any chance of a future with his son. But part of the violet’s essence is to take a chance on happiness. No one knows what will happen when Violet meets a bagpiper whose music spans the centuries in front of a castle with a troubled history. But is Violet fleeing the present only to collide with the past?

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SWEET WILLIAM – Sweet William is equated with gallantry, childlike awe, and the sensation of getting lost in a whole new world of wonder and enchantment. William McKnight is a true sweetheart, and as gallant a man as you’ll ever see, always ready with a smile. From Lyndsie Morris’s tart, hardscrabble childhood, there has gown a spirited flower with character and determination and a true appreciation of the things that really matter in life.

Sweet William Front Cover

But when Minnesota farm boy, William, and sassy Scot, Lyndsie, are forced to work together in the kitchen of Rabbit Hill Lodge, the atmosphere is as charged as an episode of Chopped. Will someone get cut, or will they find a recipe that works? Things just start to get spicy when an angry bull butts his way into the picture, and Lyndsie has to decide if she loves William more than everyone and everything she holds dear. Set in the Highlands near Eilean Donan Castle, on the Isle of Skye, and in volatile Minnesota, they face the harshest of conditions. Will their love take hold and bloom or will stormy weather crush the romance that’s blossoming between them?

Golden Rod Flood Bay 2016

GOLDEN ROD – Goldenrod flowers are thought to hold many symbols – from caution to encouragement, luck to good fortune. Superstitious folklore advises people to carry a bouquet of goldenrod flowers when seeking out treasure or venturing forth on new, but risky, ventures.

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All of these themes and more are explored in Golden Rod as the reader gets to know Lachlan—a centuries old castle overlooking Loch Carron, Scotland; Kacie—a twelve-year-old girl whose dying wish is to see it; Laird Valan and Lady Rosemary MacKenzie—500-year-old ghosts who desperately want to escape it; Golden-Haired, Most Fair, Prince Rod of Lachlan—the rightful heir who wants to live there happily ever after; and Katelyn O’Neal—the well-intentioned but clueless legal heir who’s about to pay a high price for selling Lachlan to a lowlife scum. Golden Rod is a two-week romp through a lifetime of legends and risky ventures, of bad luck and old curses turned to golden wishes. Rod MacKenzie is a gentle gardener and sometimes sailor born of adversity, and so much more lovable than Buck, the arrogant showoff who now owns the castle. How similar to the way of Scottish wildflowers – blooming not in showy profusion, but cropping up here and there in solitary clumps to bloom wherever there is a bit of fertile soil.

Wildflowers

If you’re a lover of wildflowers – wherever they blossom – and most particularly, Scotland, you’ll find the quaint surroundings – and the pirates, pipers and tales of days past that are part of Sherrie Hansen’s novels – to be fascinating. I encourage you to clutch a bunch of goldenrod and take a risk – try a new author!

~~~

Sherrie - bluebells

Twenty-seven years ago, Sherrie rescued a dilapidated Victorian house in northern Iowa from the bulldozer’s grips and turned it into a bed and breakfast and tea house, the Blue Belle Inn.  Sherrie grew up on a farm in southern Minnesota and has lived in Wheaton, IL, Bar Harbor, Maine, Lawton, OK, Augsburg, Germany, and Colorado Springs, CO. After 12 years of writing fiction, Sherrie met and married her real-life hero, Mark Decker. Mark and Sherrie divide their time between a cottage in St. Ansgar, and the parsonage where Mark serves as pastor. Their two houses are 85 miles apart, and Sherrie writes on the run whenever she has a spare minute. In her “free time”, Sherrie quilts, makes music on the piano, plays with her camera, renovates old houses, travels to the far off corners of the world, and goes on weekly adventures with her nieces and nephew. Her new release, Daybreak, is her twelfth novel to be published by Indigo Sea Press. Sherrie’s books have been called “the thinking woman’s romance” and her latest books also contain elements of suspense. While many of Sherrie’s books contain issues of faith and family, some also include “steamy” scenes, and some, a candid combination of both. Most are “second chance at romance” stories with primary characters aged 30 to 50. Many of Sherrie’s books contain at least one special quilt.

BlueBelle 2016

Links:

http://www.facebook.com/SherrieHansenAuthor
https://sherriehansen.wordpress.com/

https://www.amazon.com/Sherrie-Hansen/e/B007YXQJ4W

http://www.BlueBelleInn.com
https://twitter.com/SherrieHansen
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2870454.Sherrie_Hansen

https://www.pinterest.com/sherriebluebell/

 Daybreak in Denmark (3)

Books Titles: New Release:  Daybreak, sequel to Night & Day, Wildflowers of Scotland novels – Thistle Down (a prequel novella), Wild Rose, Blue Belle, Shy Violet, Sweet William and Golden Rod, Love Notes, and the Maple Valley Trilogy – Stormy Weather, Water Lily, and Merry Go Round.

Wildflowers of Scotland Novels by Sherrie Hansen (2)

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Bouchercon World Mystery Convention

I normally write something about writing in general or about my life in my blog, but this month I hope my publisher will pardon the account of my adventure of the last several days.

Bouchercon, the annual world mystery convention, this year began Wednesday, September 5th and ended early Sunday afternoon at the Vinoy Renaissance Resort and Golf Club in St. Petersburg, Florida. It is named for Anthony Boucher (rhymes with voucher), famous writer, reviewer and editor, is held each year in a different city and is organized by a group of volunteers. The authors represented are literally from all over the world.

The people who attend are fans, authors, agents, publishers, booksellers, and other people who enjoy reading mystery and crime fiction. This year we numbered almost 2,000. The first Bouchercon was held in Santa Monica, California in 1970 and there have been others in New York, NY; Chicago, IL; St. Louis, MO; Anchorage, AK; Austin, TX; Madison, WI; Washington, D.C.; Denver, CO; Toronto, Canada; to mention just a few.

Deadly Pleasures Mystery Magazine announces the Barry Awards each year at the Bouchercon opening ceremonies. This year those prizes went to:

Best Novel: The Marsh King’s Daughter by Karen Dionne

Best First Novel: The Dry by Jane Harper

Best Paperback Original: The Deep Dark Descending by Allen Eskens

Best Thriller: Unsub by Meg Gardiner

Attendees of the convention register and receive a book bag filled with books from publishers along with a Bouchercon book which contains ads for books and author’s biographies complete with photos, so we can recognize authors we don’t know by face, a schedule of events, maps of the hotel so we can find our way to various panels, Guests of Honors’ biographies and a listing of candidates and their books for the prestigious Anthony Awards which is announced at an awards ceremony on Saturday night.

Each day we all traipse to different panels that might be of interest covering all sorts of subjects. Some are funny, some are about the craft of writing, some are about helpful thoughts or experiences authors have had and are eager to share. After the panels, we rush to the book signing area to get authors to sign books we have purchased in the on-site book store and often to get a photo taken with said author.

In between all this, there are times when we may see an author we admire sitting in an alcove in the lobby area. They are always so friendly and willing to talk and share their experiences. It’s just amazing how giving mystery authors are.

The Guests of Honor this year were:

American Guests of Honor: Sean Chercover and Karin Slaughter

International Guests of Honor: Mark Billingham and Sara Blaedel

Lifetime Achievement (And Not Done Yet) Honoree: Ian Rankin

Toastmaster: Lisa Unger

Florida Guest of Honor: Tim Dorsey

Fan Guest of Honor: Judy Bobalik and Ayo Onatade

Ghost of Honor: John D. MacDonald

This Years’s Charity: Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library

 

And the nominees for the Anthony Award were:  (Winners in bold print)

Best Novel: 

  Bluebird Bluebird by  Attica Locke

The Force  by Don Winslow

Glass Houses  by Louise Penny

The late Show  by Michael Connelly

 Magpie Murder  by Anthony Horowitz

 

Best first Novel:

The Dry  by Jane Harper

Hollywood Homicide  by Kellye Garrett

The Last Place You Look  by Kristen Lepionka

Ragged; or, The Lovliest Lies of All  by Christopher Irvin

She Rides Shotgun  by Jordan Harper

 

Best Paperback Original: 

Bad Boy Boogie  by Thomas Pluck

Cast the First Stone  by James W. Ziskin

The Day I Died  by Lori Rader-Day

  Uncorking a Lie  by Nadine Nettman

What We Reckon  by Eryk Pruitt

 

Best Critical or Nonfiction Book:

Chester B. Himes: A Biography by Lawrence P. Jackson

From Holmes to Sherlock: The Story of the Men and Women Who Created an Icon by Mattias  Boström

Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann

  Rewrite Your Life: Discover Your Truth Through the Healing Power of Fiction by Jessica Lourey

The Story of Classic Crime in 100 Books by Martin Edwards

 

Best Short Story

  “God’s Gonna Cut You Down  by Jen Conley

“My Side of the Matter”  by Hilary Davidson

“A Necessary Ingredient” by Art Taylor

“The Night They Burned Ms. Dixie’s Place” by Debra Goldstein

“The Trial of Madame Pelletier”  by Susanna Calkins

“ Whose Wine Is It Anyway” by barb Goffman

 

Best Anthology

Coast to Coast: Private Eyes from Sea to Shining Sea- Andrew McAleer & Paul D. Marks, Editors

Just to Watch Then Die: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Songs of Johnny Cash-Joe Clifford, Editor

Killing Maimon-Dan & Kate Maimon, editors

 The Obama Inheritance: Fifteen Stories of Conspiracy Noir-Gary Phillips, editor

Passport to Murder, Bouchercon Anthology 2017-John McFetridge, editor

 

Best Online Content

  BOLO Books

Do Some Damage: An Inside Look at Crime Fiction

Dru’s Book Musings

Jungle Red Writers

Writer Types Podcast

 

Bill Crider Award for Best Novel in a Series

Dangerous Ends (Pete Fernandez #3)  by Alex Sequra

Give Up the Dead (Jay Porter #3)  by Joe Clifford

Glass Houses (Armand Gamache #13)  by Louise Penny

Two Kinds of Truth (Harry Bosch#20)  by Michael Connelly

  Y is for Yesterday ( Kinsey Millhone #25)  by Sue Grafton

 

All in all, Bouchercon this year was another exhilarating and exhausting few days of events. It was wonderful seeing old friends and making new ones, finding authors I had not read before and connecting with established ones, seeing some getting their well-earned rewards and being disappointed for others. And for you, dear readers, perhaps I’ve given you some names of authors to try for the first time. Next year Dallas, Texas will be the host city. Until then…

 

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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A Tribute to My Precious Husband of Forty-eight Years … by Maribeth Shanley

I recently read an article about a woman and her wedding that she canceled.

The bride wanted a lavish wedding.  It was a very big deal for her to enter her marriage with the obligatory fairytale celebration.  Once she finalized her plan, she figured the cost.  Although she desperately wanted her elaborate wedding, she realized she could not afford the event.  So she did something she thought was clever.  She sent out invitations with one stipulation.  She asked each attendee to pay $1,500.00 to attend her wedding.

As I read this article, I considered her request absurd and self-indulgent.  I thought, Perhaps if she weren’t so greedy and asked for a donation vs. a wedding gift, she may have been pleased with the outcome.  She would have at least been able to offset her cost a little bit.  I also thought about Bob’s and my wedding.

As I learned forty-eight years ago this Sept. 5th, it isn’t the actual wedding ceremony that matters.  Instead, what does matter are the years of marriage after the ceremony.

Young disco Bob and me       Young Bob

I was twenty-two when I met Bob. I met him the very first night after moving from my parent’s home in New Jersey to Washington, D.C.   I planned to work for the Federal Government for one year, then enter a program where the Government would send me overseas to work.  I wanted to relocate to Brussels, Belgium.  Although at twenty-two, I was unaware of my behind-the-scenes’ reason, I now realize I wanted, no, I needed to move as far away from my parents as I possibly could.  I needed to find out who I was and what I was capable of accomplishing.  I was never a prisoner of my past.  I absolutely refused to become a prisoner of something I had no control over.  I was me, not him.  I always looked forward and dwelled in the sunshine of life.  That was what I chose for myself!  My father lived in a dark, dingy, corrupt world all by himself.  I lived in another world, my own world I created, then, with Bob, we created.  My father tried to destroy me, but I called his bluff and became independent, happy and married to the most incredible man on this planet.  Oh, I never made it to Brussels.  However, with Bob, I did indeed move as far away as I possibly could from my parents and my childhood.

I was the oldest girl of six offspring.  For as long as I could remember, my parents promised me a big wedding.  That never happened.  Instead, and because I embraced my freedom with far too much eagerness, my parents turned their backs on me. I married a man who, at age eighteen, married a young girl with whom a pregnancy had occurred. Doing the right thing, Bob married the young girl.  That marriage ended in divorce not too long after.

I was raised in the Catholic Church, yes, the one that is populated by pedophiles. I was molested from the age of six until I can’t recall when, not by a priest, but, by a man, who intended to become a priest. After spending a short time in a seminary, the man returned home to marry the woman he met before leaving for the seminary. That man was my father. The woman was my mother.

When I announced that I would marry Bob, it was a given that, to stay in good graces with my parents, we would marry in the Catholic Church. However, the sinful Catholic Church was also the most judgmental of all organized religions as it banned marriage between a Catholic and a divorced person. However, in 1970, there was a loop-hole.

If Bob renounced his daughter, in the eyes of the Church, his marriage would be considered annulled, thus canceling out his marriage.  Bob was willing to do that for me. He wanted to marry me. At the time, we had no idea what was to happen only a month later. However, I refused to cave into what I considered a despicable request.  I was not about to start my marriage with cruelty.  I considered it cruel to label Bob’s daughter as a bastard daughter, thus, we announced to my parents that we would not marry in what I considered the obnoxious Catholic Church.  Instead, our ceremony would take place in a Unitarian Church.  That church’s pastor would perform the ceremony.  That was the end of my big wedding.

Bob and Me on Wedding Day

Nonetheless, we invited my parents. They did come to our wedding but intentionally dressed in casual old clothes. They were there for one reason only.  They wanted to see if I would follow through on marrying outside of the Catholic Church. I suspect they hoped that their presence would intimidate me into backing out of the ceremony and walking away from Bob.  They, especially my father, were extreme arrogant individuals who had no business getting married in the first place.  More, they were so inadequate as individuals, they should never, ever have had children, let alone, six children.

Hoping they would come to celebrate our marriage, Bob and I bought corsages for them, and my grandmother, who accompanied my parents.  However, my parents refused to accept the corsages.  Instead, they were hostile toward the pastor who offered the flowers to them.  Also,  they had so brainwashed my younger sister, Colleen, with disparaging words about what I was doing and the mortal sin I was committing, that, in the middle of the ceremony, Colleen had to rush out of the Church. She left because she needed to throw up.

I wanted a white dress for my wedding but knew neither Bob nor I could afford a wedding dress.  I was resigned to accepting a more humble wedding when my older brother stepped in.  He had just received a settlement from a former employer, so he offered to pay for my wedding dress.  Additionally, Danny walked me down the aisle. Later, we had a small reception held at Danny’s apartment.  Two ironies occurred after we married.

The first irony took place on the evening Bob, and I returned from our honeymoon which we spent camping in a farmer’s pasture in West Virginia where we spent several previous weekends caving, i.e., spelunking, in the wild caves of West Virginia.  That evening, Bob’s father called to tell Bob that, due to child abuse, his daughter, Kim, had been removed from her mother’s home.  Not only was she removed, but Bob’s father put pressure on Bob to fly out to California where Kim, her mother and mother’s boyfriend lived, to bring Kim back to the Washington D.C. area and his new marriage.

When Bob and I were to be married, we decided that we did not want children. That decision was more my decision than his.  Years later I learned that my decision resulted from the trauma I endured at the hands of my father.  Without realizing, I suffered from PTSD which haunted me into my forties for what my father did to me.   However, knowing Kim’s situation, I didn’t tell Bob not to go to California, thus, one month after marrying Bob, I became a mother of a seven-year-old, who, and resulting from suffering abuse was a very difficult child to raise.   We would learn later that Kim was deaf in one ear resulting from being struck by the boyfriend using his beer bottle on the side of her deaf ear.

The second irony occurred in April of the following year.  My younger sister, Colleen, who had flunked out of college, decided to marry a young man she met at college.  She would have the wedding denied me.  Several months earlier, my father, a U.S. Naval officer, had been reassigned to the Pentagon just across the Potomac River from  Washington D.C.  My parents were now living in one of the suburbs.

Bob, Kim and I were visiting my parent’s new home that evening during which wedding plans were discussed.  Colleen and my parents asked me to be Colleen’s Maid of Honor. No one considered my feelings; but, that was normal in my family.  However, I was so hurt, that I did express my feelings as I also refused to play a part in her wedding.  Bob, Kim and I attended the wedding.  However, we did not engage with my parents as we, my parents, Bob and I were in the midst of a cold war that lasted for several years.

There’s also a third irony that followed.  I am one of six siblings.  I am the only off-spring for whom a wedding was not paid for by my parents.  They did, in fact, foot the bill for each of their five children, including both boys.  Ironically, all five of my siblings have divorced the spouse the ceremony celebrated and, except for one brother, remarried. On the other hand, I am still married to and very much in love with my first and only husband, Bob.

On September 5th, Bob and I will celebrate our 48th Wedding Anniversary.  That’s not only an event.  Instead,  it’s also a genuinely joyous affair.  Bob and I are not only husband and wife, but we’re best of friends and have been each other’s cheerleaders for all forty-eight years.  Those forty-eight years annulled the manner in which our marriage began.  We know what is important and what is not important.

No wedding, regardless of the lavishness or expense, can compare to the solid bonds that we have formed over all these years.  Forming those bonds, however, comes with a solid dedication to the love we first felt for one another.  That dedication requires lots of work as we worked through the tough times.  We did the work, and now we are about to celebrate the result of that work.  We both hope there are many more years to enjoy with each other as we grow old, wrinkled, and slower physically and mentally.  It’s not only a feat to celebrate 48 years together; it’s a glorious feat.

Young me on Bob's bike

Someone recently commented to me, “Wait until Bob is around constantly, you will get sick of him.” My dogged answer:  Bob and I have not only been married for forty-eight years but, during those forty-eight years, we’ve done everything together.  When Bob goes to car races or car shows, I go too. When Bob began riding a motorcycle, I not only rode on the back but, I purchased a motorcycle so we could fully enjoy our adventures together.  Bob has always accompanied me as we did things I like to do.  That includes everything except shopping.  Ha, ha, I go by myself, but, Bob is with me even then.  He never complains about anything I buy for myself.  As I am for Bob, he’s a true friend and my most loyal supporter.   Several weeks ago, I spotted and purchased a plaque that resonated with me.  It reads, “When I first saw you, I knew an adventure was about to begin.”

❤…  HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, BOB …

Life with you has been a magnificent adventure.  You are my one and only hero!

 

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Summer: Where did it go? by John E. Stack

After a pretty rough school year, I was looking forward to getting some things done around the house. During the school year, I had to learn a new subject area, Social Studies. As much as history does not change, I really do not remember something I studied 20/45+ years ago (college second time and high school). Anyway, most of my normal free-time during the school year did not exist. I even had very difficult time feeding my reading addiction.
Last summer, I was able to undertake a bedroom/bathroom renovation (still haven’t found the right bathroom light fixture). But, I didn’t get the bedroom furniture refinished or the shower door replaced. Those were on my list for this summer. I also wanted to build a couple of new cabinets for the bathroom.
After taking a few weeks for relaxation/vacation, I planned to get things done. We spent a week up in the mountains of North Carolina, visited Chattanooga, Tennessee and a quick day trip to Helen, Georgia.
While in Chattanooga, we visited this beautiful place called Ruby Falls. After waiting in line or a couple of hours, we took a elevator one hundred and twenty-some feet down into the earth. We walked for about forty-five minutes through a maze of tunnels to discover an underground waterfall. It was highlighted by various colored lights but was absolutely beautiful. It was well worth the time and trouble.
On the day before we were to leave to come home, we visited a small mountain town of Helen, Georgia, where we decided to go tubing. The water level was a little low, but we went anyway. About half way through, we got stuck on a rock. Before we could get dislodged we were hit by a large group of adults. Allie was shot out of her tube in into the river. I went in after her but luckily another set of tubers grabbed her and held on to her until I got there. She was okay, just a little shaken.  Walking back down the river to where my wife anchored our tubes, a rock rolled under my foot and down I went. Now, if I were a much smaller guy, I would probably have been okay. Needless to say, I’m not and my foot jammed into the river bed. Ended up with a broken little toe, a broken big toe and a boot. I’m just glad it was the last day of vacation and not the first.
That pretty much destroyed my work schedule. Since then, along with a few weeks of healing, I have been able to refinish all the bedroom furniture and replace the shower door. I may even get to complete one of the cabinets before school starts back in a couple of days.  May be I’ll post some pics when I get it done.

Oh yeah.  In regards to my habitual reading, I’ve completed at least three eBooks and  6 hardbacks.  Even though my foot is not fully healed, life is good.

 

***John E. Stack is the author of Cody’s Almost Trip to the Zoo, Olivia’s Sweet Adventure and Cody’s Almost Rescue Adventure at the Zoo.

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Oh Really!! Revisited by John E. Stack

Hi again, last month I wrote about some issues within the foster care system.  This month, I still find my self irritated, and I wanted to make a clarification.  I will start with the clarification first.  I made a statement that it costs the state around $1500 per month per child that is in foster care.  That is a true statement.

What might be misleading is people believing that the foster parents get this money.  We do not.  We do get a monthly stipend to help provide for the children that we have.  For newborn babies up to toddlers around 4 (it maybe older), foster parents receive less than $500 per month to buy clothing, diapers, wipes, and formula if they use over what WIC provides. Most months we are in the red.   We do not get paid to get up three or four times a night when the baby wakes up crying, we don’t get paid for colic, or taking time off work for doctor appointments.

I am thankful for social programs like WIC (Women, Infants and Children) and it may have different names in different states.  We normally have children who need special formulas.  WIC usually allows 8 – 10 cans per month.  One of our recent children needed a formula and the cost is $39 per can or around $390 per month.   Our daughter was on a formula that cost $49.95 per can and she went through a can every two days.  Thank you WIC because who can pay over $700 a month for formula.

What does it cost birth parents? (Remember, they are usually the reason their child is in foster care).  They get supervised visitation from 1 to 4 times a week at government expense.  They do not have to help provide for their child, not even diapers.  Some have to get counseling, take classes, get a diploma, get their license, get a job.  They do not have to get drug counseling, or parenting classes.

Why do we do foster parenting when there are so many problems with the system?  We look at this as a ministry.  We believe that this is a job that God wanted us to do and has provided us with the means to do so.  Most of the time it is hard work, but the blessings we receive make it worthwhile.

Sorry for the rant, but sometime you just have to get stuff out of your system. My wife had a mom ask how much we got paid to take care of the kids that were placed in foster care.  When my wife told her what we were paid, she could hardly believe it.  She had been told that we got several thousand a month.  Only in a perfect world…maybe there would be no need for foster parents.  What a concept.

Okay, off my rant.  Who knows what next month might hold in store.  May you be blessed in all you do.

 

***John E. Stack is the author of Cody’s Almost Trip to the Zoo, Cody’s Rescue Adventure at the Zoo, and Olivia’s Sweet Adventure.

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