Honorable Mention in News Digest Article Who's Who Among Authors and Publishers by Anthony Moreno

Happy Holidays

From July until October, I wasn't on the computer with the exception to check emails once in awhile. I didn't have time to miss writing for those months while my husband was sick. My wanting to get back to work came later when I had more time at home. Hubby is feeling much better and the new year is looking up. The daily work of writing involves spending many hours alone with my mind full of characters that I've made up. Sometimes, it seems like I am the one who is in their heads. After writing each book in the series, it becomes easier to put together another story about them, because I know each of them so well by now. In fact sometimes it is a surprise to me when the story leads me in a scene hadn't thought about until I was writing it. I'm editing the fifth Nurse Hal Among The Amish book right now titled Emma's Gossamer Dreams and will have it ready to publish by the first of January. So state tuned for the release. It really helps when I hear from readers after they read my books. Their opinion of the characters is very important to me. That's why I was so thrilled to find this message in my emails recently. I am a new fan of yours! I just finished reading Book 2 in your Nurse Hal series and was wondering if you plan a third book about Hal and the Lapps. Honestly, I feel as if all of the people I've read about in the series are friends of mine, and that's thanks to the way you write. I am so curious to know what's happened to Hal and John after their camping trip in the picnic grove and if Hal actually gets baptized, marries John, and becomes mama to the Lapp children. Guess you could say I'm not ready for that series of books to be at an end. I pray that you'll continue your writing career; what an awesome blessing from the Lord to be able to express yourself in such a way. I'm also praying for Book 3.....and 4....and 5.... The reader has A Promise Is A Promise and The Rainbow's End. Her prayers have been answered. I emailed her that she can find out the answer to her questions about Nurse Hal and the Lapp family in book 3 - Hal's Worldly Temptations and book 4 - As Her Name Is So Is Redbird. Now in a few weeks book 5 will be ready - Emma's Gossamer Dreams. There are many sites online that carry my books now. Amazon, Smashwords, Create Space Self Publishing bookstore, my own bookstore www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com and from me with an email to order. I put the readers on a mailing list and send notice of each new book. Not all in a bulk mail but one at time to each individual. I've never liked the idea of putting multiple names on a bulk email so everyone else can see other readers names. If you like ebooks, try the kindle, nook stores and smashwords. Looking for more places? Put my name in Google Search and come up with more. Just be careful about the price. Some sites charge way too much. I probably sell my books at a lower price than anywhere you can find them and to sweeten the deal I sign each book for the reader. I'm blessed to be able to get back to normal. I appreciate what I have more than before when I took for granite the important things in life. You have a great holiday season and look forward to hearing more from me in the coming year.

Author Fay Risner Winner in Nanowrimo Contest Nov. 2012

After months of not working on a book, I came back the first of November with a passion to write something so I entered the National Novel Writing Month contest. I've entered it before so I have a better understanding of how to work on my word count to make it to the finish line. It's easy to keep track of how I'm doing with the STAT board that tells me how many words I wrote and totaled them. I check on my computer, but my word count on it is always less than on the contest site. This time I had my 50,000 plus 657 more words by November 22nd then I stopped. For making the finish line, I will get some free books when I publish this book at Create Space Self Publishing.

Helpful Contributors Ebook filled with writers tips published by Publetariat Editor April Hamilton

I received word that some of my blog posts have been added to a book by April Hamilton editor of Publetariat an online site that is very helpful to writers. Title is Publetariat Omnibus 2008-2012 Publetariat editor April Hamilton has published an ebook which is a compilation of content from Publetariat.com, a site for which she is the founder and Editor in Chief. The site reprints articles in full from named Contributors, as well as printing excerpts and backlinks to other content of interest to Publetariat's readership. The only content appearing in this book is Contributor content, and every named Contributor (see book cover and title page) has given his/her express permission for the content to be compiled into this book and sold by April Hamilton. I'm proud to be a contributor to April's ebook and to be mentioned. For purposes of the book, the site from which the content was drawn is http://www.publetariat.com. This site is full of helpful content about successful book writing, publishing, publishers and sales. As the editor, April Hamilton has worked hard to keep the site up and running. For writers that could use tips to help them be successful authors the ebook complied from this site will be very useful. Also, continue to check out the site and learn more that is helpful to authors. Here's the book's link on Amazon's U.S. Site and in a few days, the book will be published on Amazon's international sites. Http://www.amazon.com/Publetariat-Omnibus-2008-2012-ebook/dp/B00ACCOP6G My blog posts appear in several places but one is http://www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com My posts are forwarded to Facebook and Twitter. Not only do I blog at this website, I have all of my books for sale here, bio, updates on the next book and accomplishments. So first go to the address for April Hamilton's new ebook to see about downloading it, check put the publetariat site to learn more information that will be helpful to you as a writer and author, then check out my bookstore site. Keep April's ebook in mind for a Christmas gift for an aspiring writer who could use the tips. Check my site to see if there are any of my books of interest.

My best sellers are my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series set in southern Iowa and these books are signed by me and sent through media mail as soon as you buy the book for quick delivery. One more bit of information. I have entered all my Nurse Hal series on ebay for a week at a lower price then at stores and will sign the books if you need a gift for someone that likes Amish stories. Happy web surfing!

A Break From Writing

I've been lucky for two decades now that my time has been spent doing what I loved to do. First a CNA position at a local nursing home, taking care of elderly residents. Then retirement with plenty of leisure time mixed with gardening, fishing and helping my husband take care of our animals and chickens. No alarm clock breaking up our early morning sleep. No looking at the clock to see if it was coffee break time. We sit down any time we want to just enjoy the day. Best of all, I've had time to practice writing, develop books and thanks to Create Space Self Publishing get my books printed at a price I can afford - free. I've made a blog post each week to keep my readers updated on my progress with each book I've been working on or have published. Once in awhile, I've missed a post when life got in the way but not for a long extended period of time. That is what I am facing now. A few months of uncertain future where my priorities are centered on my husband's health. He is just starting a long road of procedures and recovery which means we will be on the road to doctors and the hospital. So until my husband's health improves my focus is on him. The process of creative has been fun and a blessing that years ago I wouldn't have realized would be in my future. Remembering that will be the guiding force that keeps me looking ahead to brighter days. Right now I need to assist my husband with his needs. I am hopeful that this time in our lives will be behind us one day, and I can get back to my book writing and blog postings. Until that time I'll post when I can although the posts might be few for awhile.

County Fair Memories

I actually have been working on a book now and then. It seems there are so many things that got in the way of writing in the last few weeks. We live on an acreage that keeps us working with a garden, chickens and livestock. We're in the middle of a terrible drought now so we spend a lot of time watering the garden, trees and flowers. I actually had enough cucumbers to make 15 quarts of dill pickles, a few jars at a time. Though I have the fifth Amish book in my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series well underway, I stopped working on it to work on another project. In the last two years, I've written two family history books, one for my family and the other for my husband's family. Both books were for just the families, because I didn't see a reason anyone would be interested in all the family pictures, memories and stories. Awhile back, it came to me that the history from 1900 to 1960 in Vernon County, Missouri might be of interest to those that weren't living when radio and telephones came in to use. When the Great Depression and World War 2 happened or the struggle of farming families in the Ozarks during those sixty years. For those who do remember, they can read the stories and think, I remember what that time was like. So I'm in the process of combining the stories from both family history books. I thought it might be a quick project but combining and editing takes time. Speaking of memories, we stopped at the county fair Thursday morning in Vinton, Iowa. It has been years since we walked around the grounds and through the livestock barns. It seemed like a good time to do it just to see what had changed. This was the first pleasant day we had seen in days, and we missed the crowded part of the day which was later in the afternoon and evening. However, we didn't miss the 40th RAGBRAI which is Iowa's Great Bike Ride across the state in a week. When we were in town that day, fifteen thousand bikers rode through Vinton's downtown and eat lunch on their way to Cedar Rapids for an overnight stay. The bikers don't come along all at once. It takes hours depending on when they left the last overnight spot and how slow they are so the way we went home was traffic controlled by a deputy sheriff. The route is different each year. Always on roads that aren't heavily traveled and through mostly small towns. The roads are blocked off so the bikers don't have to worry about traffic, and the towns love to see them come. What the bikers spend is a boost for the local economy. For years, my husband and I belonged to a two county sheep producers organization in Benton and Iowa Counties. I was elected president for a couple years. One of my duties was to organize the fair's lamb food booth. That consisted of buying all the supplies, signing up volunteers and spending five long days from 9 a.m to midnight in the booth. My husband grilled outside, and I cooked inside while volunteers handled the customers. The booth had been used for years without repairs. The year I took charge, my husband did the carpentry to screen in the cooking area to keep the flies out. We repainted the building and covered up the large black Suffolk sheep across the front under the counter. I did the free hand painting to replace the sheep. We have just gone through one of the hottest summers in record keeping, and it may not be over yet. Back then it always seemed like the county fair was scheduled on very hot days the last of July. Our sheep booth was the only food booth that kept ice cubes for the pop. The sheep exhibitors came after ice in a quart baggy several times to cool down their overheated fat lambs. Twenty years ago, the sheep producers group broke up. Our booth was torn down to make room for something else. The sheep barn has nicely painted metal pens instead of the splintering wooden gates now. The grooming table was in the aisle with a tethered Suffolk patiently waiting for his grooming to finish. Only half the barn was pens with sheep in them. The other half was pens of goats. Seems they have become a popular choice for FFA projects. The whole fair grounds had the fresh scent of wood shavings mingled with the smell of the various livestock. A person raised on a farm with livestock can walk through one of the fair barns blindfolded and know which animals are housed in each by the smell. My favorite is the sheep and goats. My husband likes the horses, but we checked out the calf barn and fowl and rabbit barns, too. It's fun to see all the different breeds of chickens, ducks, turkeys and rabbits. We watched the young people who take such pride in making their projects special. One boy was instructing another, evidently a first timer, on what to expect when the judge came by his chicken cage. We ate lunch at the pork booth. The grilled loin sandwiches were delicious, and the lemonade hit the spot. Then we went across the grounds to the 4-H exhibits. I enjoyed looking at all the different photography entries. The children have great imagination. One took a colorful picture of a tree top with very blue sky and white cotton clouds above it. Another picture was a horse's eye. There were many more pictures and other exhibits such as clothes, posters and food. I can't imagine how the judges picked the exhibits to go to the state fair. By the time we looked at all those exhibits, I worked up enough room to have a milk shake. We sat in the shaded bleachers at the cattle arena and watched people go by while we ate our shake. One happened to be our neighbor girl, a senior this year. I can't believe she has grown up. A man stopped to visit and told us we missed a running of the bull. Just one bull, but I was glad to hear the story second hand and not be on that end of the grounds when it happened. A exhibit of open steers had been brought in earlier. They were wild. Two jumped the pen fence and ended up in the bean field by the fair grounds. One was surrounded and brought back before the beef had time to get to the nearby houses. The other steer was determined not to be caught. When the men tried to get around him, the steer took after one of them. When that man out run him, he went after another man. The storyteller said the man came out of the bean field with a pasty white face. He didn't want to go back. The vet was called to tranquilize the steer. Some men kept an eye on the steer while they waited. By this time, the steer was very hot and panting hard. The vet came and looked for his tranquilizers to load the gun. He had forgotten to put them in his pickup so he left to go get them. While he was gone the steer laid down and stopped moving. One of the men mustered up the courage to go near enough to see why. The steer had died of heat exhaustion. I loved the days we spent working at the fair. So many people to talk to that we didn't see very often. So much going on with the carnival and grandstand events like stock car races, the demo derbies and tractor pulls. A calliope of noises of motors, tinny music, animals, talking and laughter that was only repeated once a year in that fair ground. Then there were the unexpected, exciting moments like the running of the bulls.

Recalling and Making Memories

I hope everyone had an enjoyable fourth of July even if we were baking under the hot sun. This is the first summer we have had an air conditioner in our home. I do enjoy the relief it gives me from the heat. Last year we spent so much of the summer chasing the shade in our front yard that I was having trouble working on a book. This summer I can enjoy being inside and am coming along well on the fifth Amish book in my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series. State tuned for new details as I get farther along. It's good to take a break now and then from writing, the heat and home. We spent July fourth afternoon visiting with my husband's mother and sister in Belle Plaine. At first I didn't enjoy the oven the car had turned into by the time we headed home to do chores until the AC cooled us down. Town was busy. Full of people for the 150 year celebration coinciding with the fourth. We came home, and after dark we braved the heat long enough to sit on our front porch to watch the fireworks miles from the city heat. We had a good visit and took a tour of my husband's 91 year old mother's large garden and vast amount of flower beds. We commiserated about how hard it has been to raise a garden this year and flowers. It seems the wild critters and birds are even hungrier this year than most. Probably has something to do with the drought and heat. They are looking for an easy meal. My husband's sister is always coming up with new story lines for my books. I always appreciate her help. She reads a lot and told me about a library book she was reading and liked. She wished she had a copy. I ordered her and myself one and am eagerly waiting for the books to get here. The book is Up A Country Lane by Evelyn Birkby. The author lives in southwestern Iowa. In the forties and fifties she had a recipe call in radio show in Shenendoah, Iowa. The book is about her life in those days on the farm while she raised her family, and recipes are scattered throughout the book. Simple recipes back when women used the few seasonings kept in the cupboard to make casseroles and dishes from vegetables they raised. Friday was a delightful day for us. My brother brought his grandson to visit. My great nephew is a city boy so we love to show him the animals and chickens. His favorite is the cats, but right now they are suffering from the heat as all other animals are. They weren't in the mood to play like they did last year when he visited. In an effort to take his ten year old grandson down memory lane, we went for a ride so my brother could show his grandson where we lived growing up near Keystone, where we went to school in Keystone, and we visited a couple cemeteries. In the one near Keystone, our parents are buried. We took pictures of my great nephew as he put a bouquet of pink roses in my mother's vase. All the while, we talked about how we used to make the annual visit with his great grandparents to many cemeteries in southern Missouri and listen to our parents tell tales about each ancestor. We stopped at the Belle Plaine cemetery. My brother said he hadn't been there in years so I helped him fine our grandparents graves. We took pictures of my nephew by the stone as we explained what fun we had at the grandparents house on weekends. We were country kids that looked forward to going to the movie on Saturday night, eating Grandma's cooking and her huge sugar cookies. The treat of the weekend might have been that long, round about, country ride Grandpa took us on to get us back home. Our grandparents were country people too so they enjoyed those rides. For us, it was the lingering of time with our grandparents before we were home and back into the routine. It was lunch time when we arrived in Belle Plaine so we ate lunch at the Lincoln Cafe, newly remodeled and a historical spot on the Lincoln Highway tour. We could have gotten ice cream dessert with our walleye special, but my brother had noticed a sign at the Mini Mart in Keystone on their way to our house that offers malts. He wondered if the malts were good. His grandson perked up and turned down the ice cream. He wanted to wait until we got to the Mini Mart and find out. I agreed. Before we left Belle Plaine we took a tour of the north end of town, looking at the two homes our grandparents lived in when we went for those overnight visits. Then we were off to Keystone's Mini Mart for that malt. I couldn't believe I had room for one after that large walleye meal, but I made room. Since then I have stocked up on ice cream and milk. I don't have malt but a milk shake will do just as well. When I drink that shake I will think of the great day we had with my brother and his grandson. I'm not sure how much my great nephew enjoyed the day or the stories we told, but I received a big hug when he was ready to leave. Whether he retains the memories we shared, or enjoyed the sites we showed him, I think he liked visiting his aunt and uncle. We can't wait until he can come back again.

Make Your Offer

Take a look at this ebook selling site in the UK and see if it is a fit for you as an Independent author. We need all the venues we can find to sell our books and ebooks and get exposure. I spent all last week getting my ebooks in order and downloading them to the site. On Make Your Offer, customers can dicker over the price of your book with you and settle on a lower price or you can use fixed price option. I've never been able to bargain with anyone on the price of anything so I'm better off with the fixed price on my books. There are many low priced books well worth the money on this site. No need to ask for a lowered price on most of them when you think about all the long hours, slaving over the computer went into these ebooks. I kept my books prices the same as I have them on other sites. My books sell at that price even in the UK on one other site. I'm a big believer in word of mouth. Once someone reads one of my books and passes the information along that the book or ebook was worth buying my sales increase. I like the fact that there is a friendly feel about Make Your Offer site. I was sent a welcoming email message when I entered two of my books. I liked that but feared I might not be so welcomed when I suggested I could downloaded fifteen more right away. I was wrong. Any amount is welcome so now seventeen of my ebooks are for sale. This site has groups to join, discussion groups to explore and other members to befriend like social sites except with this site many of the people you talk to are authors. I've already found I have a lot in common with some of the authors. They have discussed with me that they write wholesome books, because they believe there is a growing market for the clean and not so violent stories. I like that there are authors in this group that shared with me their passion for writing stories they believe in. I've said many times I like to write books with a story line similar to books I like to read. My books are wholesome with a mixture of serious at times and make you laugh out loud at other times. I started out to write one Amish story about Nurse Hal and wound up continuing in a series, because readers liked the characters so well, they didn't want to say good bye with one book. The same with my mystery series. Readers that are looking for a story with humor in it keep coming back for another book about Gracie Evans. The readers tell me my books are a break from the more serious problems that are always facing us. What I found with continuing with the same characters is that the books are easier to write now that I feel like I know the fictional people I'm writing about. So if you are an Indie author check out the site. Downloading is free, fast and easy. Just sit back and wait for the royalty to start coming in. Enjoy the company of others sharing the site. If you are a book buyer looking for a bargain try shopping at Make Your Offer. Discover the talented authors and their works.

A Road Trip To Centerville, Iowa

A week ago last Friday was cool, sunny and spring like - the perfect day to go for a day long outing. My husband and I picked up my aunt in Belle Plaine, Iowa and went on a two hour drive south of us to Centerville, Iowa to visit another aunt. We haven't made that trip nearly often enough in the last few years. Two hours passes fast when we're talking all the way. My husband has a running game with my aunt about who sees the first deer and turkeys along the road. He usually spots one first but my aunt is good at seeing them, too. We arrived in Centerville mid morning in time to try out an individual cup coffee pot my aunt received for Christmas. You're probably familiar with the kind. You insert a small container under a lid and coffee spews into your cup. That was my first experience with this invention. I must admit I like my old percolator better. There's no waiting. We have the coffee pot on a timer. By the time we get out of bed, twelve cups has perked. For lunch my aunt treated us at Manhattan Steak House with a cousin and her husband. It's an all you can eat buffet restaurant on the edge of the Centerville golf course. A large variety of good food to select from and for dessert soft serve ice cream with a variety of toppings, cakes and cookies. As much as I love the choices for the meal, I always save room for dessert. After lunch, we went for a drive south of Bloomfield on highway 63 to an Amish grocery store we've taken my aunts to for years. Times are changing for the Amish, but just a little slower than they do for the rest of us. The grocery store used to be in an old house moved to the spot and surrounded by a large house, a large barn and a harness shop. Across the road and up the hill is an Amish school. In all the rooms, I took note of the aged wallpaper and electric wiring hanging from the ceiling where a light bulb had been and wondered what kind of stories past families had to tell. On the main room wall behind the counter was a sign. No stealing allowed. God might not notice, but a Yoder will. Around the tables filled with groceries, young Amish woman might be pushing a much smaller size grocery cart with a toddler in it and then there was the rest of us. I'm always looking on the shelves to see what merchandise is different from where I usually shop. We call the large bags bulk shopping, but most Amish families are large. They need to buy in bulk. About seven years ago, we drove to the spot we expected to find the old house grocery store and right on by. The farm buildings were there but not the store so we thought we missed it. When we reached the Missouri line we knew we had traveled too far. We turned around and on the way back found the grocery store had been moved on the opposite side of the road from the farm buildings. Now the store is a large, tin building, usually used on farms to store machinery, with a cement floor. To the side of the store is a LP gas tank to run a generator. We knew we had the right place because of the grocery store sign. So here we were again after a few years absence. Inside are rows of items, many in bulk, and bins along the wall holding fruits and vegetables. Coolers were at the end of the bins. Looking at the woman in Amish dress behind the counter using an electric cash register let us know we for sure had the right place. When we were leaving, it must have been time for a change in shifts. A buggy drove up. A young woman and small boy came in the back door, leaving a young girl in the buggy. The clerk climbed in beside her and took the reins. As they rolled away, I thought what a perfect spot for a grocery store that serves people who still drive buggies. Traffic is brisk so customers might be just passing through or local farmers like the couple shopping while we were there, but for those that still use horses this store is a safer place to shop. A new building, a LP tank and generator to furnish electricity for the cash register and coolers is an improvement for sure, but no matter how many times we visit I don't expect to see the clerk using one of those new fangled one cup at a time coffee pots behind the counter very soon. We continued on our country drive back to Centerville and passed one farm where there was a gathering of children playing in the yard and women coming out of the house to leave. Put my mind to wondering if they had a quilting bee or what other project were they working on together. The children amuse themselves by playing outdoors. Some were gathered around a black pony. One girl hopped on the pony, ready to take her ride. Smaller children were playing in a large sandpile under a shade tree. No couch potatoes in that group. It's fun to hear my books get around further than I do. One of my cousins, Gene Foust, has a niece in a Cedar Rapids, Iowa Half Price book store. Recently she said she remembered seeing my name on books in her store. Gene is the very talented family artist. Look for his paintings online at Fine Art America. In this picture a cousin, Heather Graham, sent me she shows me she's reading one of my books on a relaxing day at the beach in Stump Pass State Park near Englewood, Florida. Amazon has made an improvement for indie authors and opened up a way to print books overseas. All I had to do was sign up and my books can now be bought easier in other countries. No custom fees and this means quicker shipping for the customers. Must work because I'm selling more books in the United Kingdom. For everyone in this country you can find my paperback books on Amazon, Smashwords and in my online bookstore at www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com If you are looking for ebooks look in the Kindle store, Nook store or Smashwords. You can always catch up with my blog posts on my Amazon author page, Facebook, blogger or alerts on Twitter. My author site is at www.writersownwords.com/booksbyfay complete with descriptions of my contemporary Nurse Hal Among The Amish series and my historical mystery series Amazing Gracie Mysteries plus other genres I've written, book events and my blog.So buy one of my books and read it in an interesting place like Heather did. Send me a picture and I'll post it on my blog.

I Write Like - SUPRISE

I've heard the expression that every author finds his or her own voice after they've written for awhile. I've never been sure what my voice is though I've hoped it might become one that make readers think of me when they read a book I didn't write. I suspect it would be hard for any author to liken his own work to another. So if I had to choose an author that I write similar to I wouldn't know how to do it. That's why it was fun to try out a site G.H. Monroe told me about on Facebook in his Writers Depot section. The site is called I Write Like. There is a free test analyzer that tells the author which famous author their work is most like. I've come to the conclusion after several tries that the analyzer picks more by subject matter than writing style. Sounded like fun to try. I submitted a dramatic chapter of my latest Nurse Hal Among The Amish book - As Is Her Name So Is Redbird. In this chapter, a young Amish girl is accidentally shot while she is driving a buggy. The horse finds the way home, but the girl dies. I clicked the button, and the answer was J.D. Salinger. His only book was a hit with teenagers in the 1950s as I remember, but not well received by those that didn't care for foul language and promiscuous behavior. The choice of this author was not well received by me. I want my books to be known for the wholesome material in them which is totally the opposite of Catcher In The Rye. Thinking I should give the test another try, hoping for a result I'd like better, I picked a humorous chapter in the same book. Nurse Hal is asked by an Amish farmer to deliver lambs. His reasoning is the vet is too far away to get to his farm to save the lambs. This is an emergency. However, he misleads Nurse Hal, and she thinks she's going to be assisting the farmer's wife in a home birthing. Too late, she sees who Nancy is and feels she can't refuse helping the farmer. Which author did the test pick this time? David Foster Wallace best known for his book Infinite Jest. I'm not familiar with this author so I looked him up. The subject matters in his book didn't appear to be humorous such as drug addition. The subjects he wrote about I don't have the expertise to write. By now I'm thinking maybe there is another form of my work that might give me a better analysis answer. After all I've written several different genres. I put in the first chapter of my latest historical book - Tread Lightly Sibby. This introduction to the Ozark characters as the Civil War is ending begins with Sibby, a mother for the fourth time, rebelling against staying in bed much to the midwife's irate warnings. The story starts with a blizzard which Sibby's husband is out in. She is worried about his safety. Now the test picked an author that I was very happy with. Margaret Mitchell the author of Gone With The Wind. This was her only book and has been popular throughout the ages. It is my favorite. No matter how scheming and dishonest spoiled Scarlet O'Hara became I always rooted for her. She had large strikes against her - a woman in a man's world and the Civil War. She prevailed by telling herself hopefully there was always tomorrow. Scarlet made me believe her life would improve beyond that last page. Now I'm thinking it wasn't my writing but the fact that my book has a southern setting in the same era that triggered the test result. Maybe I should have quit now that I had a test result I liked, but I decided to continue. So I picked chapter four in my historical book Tread Lightly Sibby. Sibby's husband is commandeered to lead two deputy sheriffs and two horse thieves through a forest. He's with the deputies when they decide to scare the thieves and wind up hanging them. Brice goes home, resigned to keeping quiet. When the bodies are found dangling from trees, the fingers point at Brice, and he's found guilty of murder. The test result was an unlikely one according to me, but maybe not. That would be for the readers to decided I guess. It was Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice In Wonderland. I hadn't meant for that chapter to sound like fantasy. My take on the submission was scary and violent in very real, rough vigilante and lawless days after the Civil War. So now I wanted to see what answer another genre I've written might bring me. I picked chapter one and two from my historical mystery series Amazing Gracie Mysteries - Locked Rock, Iowa's Hatchet Murders. The chapters introduce the characters and their hesitation to like the newcomer to the retirement home they live in. My series is meant to be mystery stories with humor and set in the Midwest at the start of the 20th century. Now this time I was happy with the test pick - Mark Twain. Again one of my favorite authors. I loved his Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn books as a kid. We were both from Missouri and though we grew up in different times I can identify with Twain. My fictional town in Iowa and my characters might have triggered a likeness to Hannibal, Missouri in Twain's books. Okay now I'm expecting a different answer for chapters ten through eleven of the same book if the test answers are always going to change. The newcomer, from New York, thinks the best way to get an answer for a murder is to go to a seance and ask for the victim to come forward and tell the ladies who the killer is. It leads to a nervous situation for the elderly Locked Rock residents, unfamiliar with a seance. The seer is so good at her job she brings forth many dead people they remember before the victim appears. Who am I like this time? Again Mark Twain. It was then I remembered he wrote a ghost story about being stuck in a New York hotel with a ghost. I can see how my seance seemed like that. So now I decided to try a western - Small Feet's Many Moon Journey. I chose chapter two and three. As with most husbands on a trip, Stringbean Hooper gets lost when he takes his wife on a horseback vacation from their Montana ranch to California. They stray onto an Indian reservation and are captured in the middle of a Ghost Dance celebration. A friend who happens to be the white widow of an Indian brave dresses Stringbean and Theo like Indians in hopes of sneaking them out during the dance. Theo finds herself next to a young brave who thinks she'd make him a suitable squaw and that almost ends all hope of them escaping. Test result - Mark Twain. By then I was more than satisfied with writing my historical books like Mark Twain, but I wondered what would be the answer for my nonfiction book about my father's life when he had Alzheimer's disease - Hello Alzheimer's Good Bye Dad. I submitted chapter one which introduces my family and our learning about Alzheimer's. Result of test - again David Foster Wallace. Maybe because the serious subject matter was in tune with David Foster Wallace's book. Alzheimer's is a widely discussed fatal disease with no cure. I decided I should try again for an author pick for this book that I might like better. I submitted chapter 27 and 28 about my parents coping to live with Dad's failing health. He tries to plow with a push plow down their long garden rows and uproots beets and carrots. Both vegetables he dislikes. My mother was angry. She asked me to get him out of the garden before he did more damage. I defended this as an accident because of his failing eyesight and poor coordination. Mom declared Dad plowed up the two vegetables he didn't want her to feed him. Results for this one really surprised me - Stephenie Meyer - author of the Twilight series. I'm not fond of vampires so I haven't read her works. She must bring her characters to life as real people by the way teenagers go for the books and movies. Perhaps in that respect, we might be similar, but like I said I haven't read her work. This isn't the end of the testing for me. I'm pretty sure most authors improve as they work at writing. So when I finish each new book I'm going to submit a portion to see who I'm like next. Since the test works for blog posts I submitted this post. The author I'm most like now is H.P. Lovecraft. He wrote horror, fantasy and science fiction and died at a young age in 1937. I'll bet if he could submit to the I Write Like test the answer for him would not be me but Edgar Allen Poe. Hopefully, I bypass some of the authors I just mentioned with some of my next submissions. Though I haven't a favorite author choice for my next tests, I'd just like to be pleasantly surprised.

Chapter 1 Sibby Monroe swiped a brown curl out of her bright blue eyes. She was just plain bored. She didn't like staying in bed nine days after birthing. She'd done it before with her other three children, because Granny Pinkney always told her that was the rule. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she bothered to mind Granny. She wanted to get out of bed and go to the parlor to sit with her children. She heard the child like laughter. Some rough housing, too, until Granny Pinkney scolded the children to be quiet so they wouldn't wake up their ma and the new baby. Sibby smiled at the baby girl beside her as she ran her finger around the tiny face and over the downy, yellow fuzz on top her perfect little head. She whispered, "You are so lucky you weren't a boy, Dandelion Abigail. Your daddy would have named you Jefferson Davis for sure. Oh, I understand mind you, that it's a way to honor his hero. After all, the man was President for all of us that were on the side of the Confederacy. Matter a fact, that's how your brother got the name Robert Lee. Having that name tacked on him by his daddy don't mean a thing to Bobby Lee. He don't know who Robert E. Lee is, and he don't care one lick that your daddy served in the Confederate Army. That won't stop your daddy. Next boy I have will be Jefferson Davis. I can just about guarantee that." Even with all the quilts heaped on her, Sibby shivered, causing goose bumps to pop out on her arms and legs. The bedroom was getting colder by the minute. She snuggled deeper under the covers, but even that didn't help warm her up much. The few flakes of snow she'd seen speckle the window earlier had turned to a whiteout. The flakes fell fast and furiously. The wind howled mournfully as it whipped the snow against the house and plastered the window pane white. The intensity of the storm gave Sibby cause to worry. Right after dinner, Brice left for the post office in Houston, Missouri. He'd been gone a good long while. She hoped he made it home before dark. It must be hard to see where he was going right now. In the dark, he'd get lost for sure. With a blizzard going on outside it was no wonder the room was so cold. She didn't see why she should stay put in this frigid room when the parlor was toasty warm. She'd get up and sit by the heating stove. That's what she'd do. Before she brought the baby back to bed for the night, she'd have Brice start a fire in the bedroom fireplace to take the edge off. She slipped out of bed, took a step forward on the cold wood floor and wobbled backward. Her head was fuzzy, and her feet felt like they were full of nettles. She straightened up and took a deep breath, waiting for the weakness to pass. When she felt ready, she walked slowly over to the wall, pulled a dress and petticoat off a peg and quickly tossed the garments over her head. She ran the tortoiseshell brush that laid on the dresser through her flighty hair. With the baby in her arms, she peeked into the parlor. The time was right. Bobby Lee and Estelle had their noses stuck to the parlor window, watching the snow. Sibby tiptoed over by the heating stove and sat down in the rocker. The baby woke up and mewed like a newborn kitten. Bobby Lee and Estelle turned around. "Mama!" Eight years old Estelle said in alarm. "What are you doing up?" "Hi, Mama," Six years old Bobby Lee greeted. He saw nothing at all wrong with her joining them. Mildred, ten years old, looked up from the book she was reading and smiled. Sibby put a finger to her lips and hissed for them to hush up but too late the elderly midwife, Granny Pinkney, appeared in the kitchen door. "Serbina Ellen Monroe, you get right back in yer bed," ordered the wizen woman. She wore her gray hair in a heavy braid looped around and penned on top her head. Her blue cotton dress, dotted with small red roses, was made from the latest print on the flour sacks at the general store. "It's too cold in there, Granny. Besides, I was lonesome," pleaded Sibby as she unbuttoned her dress top so the baby could suckle. "It sounded like the younguns were having too much fun out here without me." With her hands on her hips, Granny marched over to stand beside Sibby, looking as if she wasn't used to being disobeyed. "I'll have no sass. You know better than this. It's just been a scant three days since I ketched that baby. You could be doing yerself a world of hurt getting up like this." "I won't stay up long. Promise. Sit and visit with me a spell," invited Sibby. "Bobby Lee, go in the bedroom and bring the cradle out by the stove so the covers will warm up. Estelle, bring Granny a chair." As the children scattered, Granny shook her head and grumbled, "I ain't helpless. I could get my own chair if there were a need." "Much obliged, Estelle." Sibby winked at her daughter. "Now sit with me, Granny. As soon as Brice gets home, he can start a fire in the bedroom fireplace to warm the room up. I'll go back to bed when it's tolerable in that room for the baby. I promise." "No telling when Brice will be getting home. The snow is mounting up in deep drifts. Most likely hard going for a horse and sled to travel through which is bound to slow him down. You cain't wait up that long," Granny fretted. The way her forehead wrinkled up Sibby knew she was worried about Brice, too. "Brice will make it. He always does," Sibby said. Her voice filled with confident pride when she spoke about her husband, but she had a fluttery feeling she best wait and see. "Good thing you wasn't planning on going home for a few days yet. Got any other babies to ketch right away?" "Not for a couple weeks. Mrs. Newcome is due about then." "Thank goodness, Granny, that you're able to help all of us. I don't know what women around here would do without you at birthing time," confided Sibby as she tugged a wrinkle out of the baby's belly band. "Nonsense. I ain't the only one that does it. Some women have their mamas to take care of them," Granny sputtered. "Maybe so, but then there's women like me that moved away from their mamas. Times like this I wished we lived in Tennessee close to my folks when I'm ready to have a baby." Sibby gave a homesick sigh. "Never thought of that when Brice said we should move to Missouri to start farming on free homesteaded land." "Same reason Most folks moved here away from their kin I reckon," agreed Granny. "Reckon you miss that big house of yer folks and all them colored servants some, too." "Nah, not anymore. When we were traveling in a covered wagon pulled by that team of oxen in rain and heat, I sure thought about my folks and what I left behind to marry Brice. Now I'm settled in a home of my own, and it's my folks I worry about. They have lost everything they had to the Yankees, including the plantation house and servants. If the bunch of us had known that war was going to tear this country in two like a rotted pitch fork handle snapping under a heavy load, maybe those politicians in Washington would have done something different," declared Sibby. "Don't reckon it was any easier during the war in Tennessee than it was here. I figure folks there had a rough time staying alive. Maybe a lot worse than we did. That's all almost behind us now. We're going to be all right as soon as this war is over. It may take a few years, but we'll put this land right again. You wait and see," vowed Granny. "It sure don't stop me from thinking about how close I came to losing Brice. That musket ball he took in the shoulder could have killed him. Thousand wonders he didn't get blood poisoning in that wound before he made it home." "Thank the Lord, he didn't. Now stop borrowing trouble," scolded Granny. "I'm just thankful Brice didn't want to turn around and go right back into the fighting again like some men did. My brother, Talford, is still out there somewhere. Not a word from him in months. I don't know if he's alive or ----." She bit her lower lip. She couldn't bring herself to say the word as she looked at her sleeping baby. She buttoned her dress top with one hand while she slowly rose from the rocker. Sibby laid the baby back into the cradle near the pot bellied stove and pulled the little blankets up over her. Ignoring Granny's tongue clicking, Sibby walked over and peered out the parlor window at the three feet drift banked around the house. The snow had stopped now. A brisk wind whipped over the drifts, picking up a swirl of flakes and scattering the snow through the air which caused a thick haze. It was early December 1864. Dark came quickly this time of year and was almost upon them. How close to home was Brice? That's what Sibby wished she knew. Disturbed by the children's loud voices, the baby whimpered. Bobby Lee and Estelle were arguing. Those two needed something to do to keep them from fighting. Otherwise, the baby wouldn't stay asleep. She walked slowly across the room and eased back into the rocker, frowning from her older two children to her baby. "I've sit long enough. If I ain't going to change yer mind about getting in bed, I ought to get busy. Got work to do in the kitchen," Granny said, patting Sibby's arm. "Much obliged for the talk. Bobby Lee, watch out that window for your father, and let me know when he comes,"Sibby ordered, hoping that kept her feisty son busy for a few minutes. "Yes, Mama," the boy said. With his shock of black hair and dark eyes, it pleased Sibby that he looked like a miniature version of his father. The argument forgotten, Bobby Lee skipped across the room to stand at the window. "Estelle, would you please rock the cradle for me. The baby is having trouble getting back to sleep." Sibby considered this daughter a combination of her and Brice with her brown hair and dark eyes. She was a pretty child. Heaven help the boys whose hearts she broke when she grew up. A glance at Mildred, the very likeness of herself, brought a smile to Sibby's face. That brown haired, blue eyed child was curled up on the settee, reading. Sibby never had to worry about doling out a chore to keep her busy. Give her one of her father's books and like her father, that girl stayed with it until she finished reading it. "Mildred, maybe you should lay that book aside and see if Granny Pinkney could use some help in the kitchen." "Sure, Mama," Mildred replied with a frown at being interrupted. Sibby leaned her head back against the rocker, suddenly feeling done in. She sat up and tried to look perky when she caught Granny standing in the kitchen doorway staring at her. "You a sight! That's for certain, Missy. You get yourself back in your bed before we have to carry you there," scolded Granny, shaking an arthritic finger at her. "I reckon it wouldn't hurt to lay down until Brice comes home, but I'm leaving the baby in here where it's warm," said Sibby as she rose from the rocker. The bed was icy cold when she slid between the covers. She'd just warmed up her hole in the feather tick when Granny called, "Sibby, company's coming." "Is it Brice?" Granny stuck her head in the doorway. "No, it's Abby and Shelton Harris on their sled. Just wanted to let you know. Now you let them say their howdies and shoo them for home. You hear? You ain't spry enough for long winded company." "Yes, ma'am," Sibby said obediently. "Go open the door for them, will you please?" Granny gave a loud harrumph as she disappeared. Sibby's cousin and best friend, Abigail Harris, was a delight with her chirpy voice and flitting movements. She reminded Sibby of a happy, brown wren, making a nest in the spring. Shelton Harris was just Shelt, a happy go lucky fellow known to be a little on the irresponsible side. The total opposite of her dependable Brice, but Abby thought the world of her husband. That was all Sibby cared about. Abigail was happy with Shelt. As soon as Sibby heard the elderly woman walk away, she climbed out of bed and slipped into the parlor. Granny let the Harrises in and turned around to show them to the bedroom. The old woman froze in her tracks when she saw Sibby in her rocker. With a frown, she said, "This is the hardest woman to keep down I ever did see. I'd swear she was in her bed resting." "Hey, Abby and Shelt, come over by the fire and warm up," Sibby greeted. "I'd have thought everybody would be home where it's safe. What brings you out on such a terrible day?" Shelt grinned. "We hear tell we have a new neighbor on the ridge. Figured to come introduce ourselves." "How did you hear that?" Sibby asked. "Brice stopped by on his way to town," Abby explained as she hovered over the cradle. "Can I hold her?" "You can," Sibby said proudly. Shelt looked over Abby's shoulder as she unwrapped the blanket. "Say ain't she a dandy. What did you name her?" "We're going to call her just what you said. Dandy. Her real name is Dandelion, and I gave her the middle name Abigail for you, Abby," Sibby said softly. "Oh my. I'm right proud," Abby said, tearing up. Shelt scratched his head, looking serious. "I'd a never figured to give a baby such a name." Abby looked at him crossly. "You don't like that this baby has my name?" "Oh no, I know better than to say such a thing in my wife's present. That would get me in big trouble. I've always reckoned Abigail is a fine name but ain't dandelion a weed?" Sibby laughed heartedly. "A weed that makes a pretty yellow flower. Look at that babe's topknot. See all that bright yellow hair the color of a dandelion." "Shelt, when Sibby's right, she's right. Welcome to the neighborhood, Dandy," Abby said softly. Granny edged up beside Abby. "This woman needs to be in bed." Once, she'd had her say she marched back to the kitchen. "Why are you out here?" Abby asked. "We could have come in the bedroom to visit." "That room is so cold I was getting chill blaines. I brought the baby out here by the fire. I want Brice to light a fire in the fireplace for me when he gets home to warm the room up. After that, I'll feel better about being in there," Sibby excused. "Granny is blowed up like a toad. I best make that fire while I'm here, before she has a real fit. Won't take long and Abby can help you back into bed. Don't do to get Granny's dander up if she's going to be around for awhile," Shelt warned. He said softly behind his hand, "I hear she can be right mean when she's mad." Sibby and Abby giggles ceased when they saw the old woman standing in the kitchen doorway, listening to them. Fiery sparks lit up Granny's faded brown eyes. After the old woman was out of sight, Sibby brightened up and whispered, "Are you two going to be here for Christmas this year?" "What about Granny?" Shelt asked, nodding toward the kitchen. "Don't worry. I'll ask her to come," Sibby said innocently. "You know what Shelt meant," Abby said in a hushed voice. "You just had a baby. Ain't Christmas too soon to be having company?" "Sibby said. "The children will be disappointed if we don't have our Christmas party. Speaking of which, where are your kids?" "Our younguns had a fit when we told them they had to stay home, but it was such nasty weather, we didn't think they needed to be out," Abby said. "If you have your mind set on asking everyone for Christmas again this year, I'm coming over early to help out." "I'd love that," Sibby said. "Now, Shelt, before you take off on me if you'd like to built that fire for me in the bedroom I'd just let you so I can get back in bed after Brice gets home." "Yes, ma'am. I'm going to do that very thing right now," Shelt replied.

I hope you have enjoyed a peek at my latest book "Tread Lightly Sibby". You'll find the story in paperback on Amazon. The ebooks are in the kindle and nook stores. Take a look at my online bookstore for a signed paperback and check out all the other books I have for sale.

Memorial Day Memories Sells

Decoration Day is coming up. The day brings up memories for me other than of fun vacations. This time we took my husband's 91 year old mother with us to the cemetery to place flowers, and I took pictures of the event.


Awhile back I wrote a story about my family recollections of the day and sold it to Good Old Days Magazine. I thought this might be a good time to share it with you. I've been fortunate to write short stories that fit this magazine. Old pictures are what jog my memories. I look through my mother's black and white pictures and some of my own until a story idea comes to me.



1950's Memorial Day Memories

Just before Memorial Day, my husband, Harold, and I drive to the country cemetery near Keystone, Iowa. It doesn't take long to put flowers on my parents graves and Harold's father's grave and drive 7 miles home. The first time I took Mom to put flowers in Dad's vase in 1999, she gave me orders when this duty fell to me I should always put red roses in Dad's vase, because that was his favorite flower. Any spring flowers on her side would do. Doing that for her each year brings back memories about decorating graves when I was a kid.

Memorial Day used to be called Decoration Day. My family didn't think of the day as a summer holiday. We seldom went anywhere with cows to milk twice a day. The day was just what the name implied. A day to decorate graves. For my parents, my brother, John, and me that became an all day process. My parents didn't have to hunt for the graves. They visited the spots for years and probably helped carry many of those people to their rest. The reason it took all day was we met up with other people doing the same thing. My parents started a conversation and visited awhile. These might have been people my parents knew from way back or just strangers. People weren't in such a hurry back then. They took the time to visit.

We lived on an 80 acre farm near Schell City, Missouri. My parents, Bill and Sylvia Bullock, supplemented their income by making and selling flower baskets to take to the cemeteries. So after school for a couple months, John and I made carnations from Kleenex. We put two tissues together, folded them up accordion style, tied a wire around the middle and cut off the folded end. Carefully, we separated each ply and pulled the tissues to the middle. After school, John and I wanted to play, but Mom insisted we make a certain number of flowers first.

Mom put together crepe paper roses. She cut petals and stretched them around a wire which she secured with green crepe paper wound down the stem. She used her scissors blade to run over the top of each petal to curl it. To weather proof the roses, Mom melted paraffin in a pan and dunked the flowers. This was the same hot wax Mom poured over jelly to seal the jars so the jelly wouldn't mold while stored in the root cellar.

Dad cut sticks and used finishing nails to build log cabin style baskets in different sizes. Mom did the flower arranging. The baskets hung by the handles on nails Dad hammered in the back porch wall. Word got around. Two of our teachers, Dorothy Felthoff and Edna Thomas, stopped to buy baskets as well as many other people.

By Decoration Day, we still had unsold baskets. The day dawned sticky hot in the Ozarks. At least, I don't remember a rainy Decoration Day. John and I had baskets wedged between us in our 35 Chevy's back seat and around our feet. The country roads leading to the cemeteries consisted of natural rock and potholes. With the windows cranked down to let air in the un-airconditioned car, red dust settled on everything in the car.

Mom fixed bologna sandwiches, potato chips and snowballs for dessert, thermos of coffee and Kool-aid. Bologna tasted better in the fifties. The slices were cut off a large, red wrapper covered roll and sold by the pound. She put our lunch in a cardboard box on the front seat between Dad and her.

My parents pulled weeds and tall grass away from some graves. John and I scattered like a covey of quail, looking at old tombstones. Dad always cautioned us, "Don't step on the graves." Out of respect sure but since the wooden coffins deteriorated long ago, he said we might find ourselves sinking along with collapsing soil into the graves. Mom's worry was poisonous snakes like copperheads and rattlers lurking in the shaggy grass. "Watch where you step," she admonished at each cemetery for fear we'd forgotten her previous warnings. Believe me when I tell you, we were more apt to forget Mom's warning than Dad's. To this day, we still watch where we step in the cemeteries.

Our first stop, Montevallo Cemetery, began our family tree lesson. The timber lined road led down a steep embankment to a shallow creek. That's where Dad stopped the car. In the summer, Mill creek was mostly mud which made it easy to walk across. After a short walk through a hayfield, we were at the cemetery. My brother and I were always fascinated by a cement platform, with two white metal chairs and a table on it, over a Montevallo banker/ Notary Public and his wife's grave. Back in those days, no one ever brought furniture to a cemetery. Years later, I hated to hear the furniture had been stolen.

There was a family connection with this banker. Dad's father's brother had a violent disagreement with him in the early 1900's about Dad's grandmother's farm land. Dad's Uncle Preston went to prison for attempted murder.

Amid Confederate soldiers and bushwhackers, my father's two grandfathers, Union soldiers, were laid to rest along side their wives and offspring. One homesteader grandfather, Hiram Taylor, returned to farm after the war. The other a homesteader as well, Charles Bullock, was a druggist after the war. Back in the day when plants, gathered from the timber, were turned into potions and compounds, he built a successful hardware/drug store in Montevallo. This civic minded grandfather was on the school board. He believed his children should have a good education.

Next to Charles and his wife, Harriet, was Dad's father, William (Button) Bullock, who had a reputation for being a partier like his brother, Preston. Button became a druggist after his schooling to be a doctor at St. Louis Medical College was cut short by Charles's death in 1895. Button took over the hardware/drug store from Harriet. He died at age 50 in 1924. In all fairness, a hereditary heart condition was the cause of death but this fun loving man's life style may have hastened his demise. Our musically talented Grandpa didn't miss a summer celebration, and most towns had one. He played the trumpet in Montevallo Order of Modern Woodmen of American lodge's band during the parades.

Button's wife, Addie, had to care for my dad and four other children. When the telephone came along, she cleaned out her fancy parlor and had a switch board installed to become Montevallo's first telephone exchange. Family friend, Eldon Steward, Eldorado Springs, Mo., told me when he was in the army he called home to talk to his mother. The reception was so bad Addie had to relay every word of the conversation. When Addie died in 1968, it was her wish to dig Grandpa Button up and bury them both in the Nevada cemetery. She said the Montevallo cemetery was too far back in the sticks to suit her. She refused to be buried there so Grandpa had to be moved.

Not far down the road, we visited Mom's two baby sisters graves, died 1919 and 1929, at Olive Branch Cemetery. The church sits close by where Mom's mother, Veder Bright, walked with her children to church. In that church one of Mom's brothers, Everett Bright, Nevada, Mo., married his childhood sweetheart, Lois Nichols, who lived close by.

Located east of Montevallo is Walnut Grove cemetery. We'd visit the grave of Isabel Taylor, a Black American. A slave before the Civil War, she was a neighbor to my parents and older brother, Billy, in the late thirties. Isabel walked with a limp, because her owner beat her with a single tree brace.

After the Civil War, "New" Montevallo was built. "Old" Montevallo had been burnt by the Wisconsin 3rd Calvary Regiment. The new hotel needed a cook so the owner hired Isabel and moved her to town. She outlived the hotel, became a nanny until the family's three boys grew up then the great grandmother of the boys moved in with Isabel to live out their lives together. Isabel had the distinction of being the only Black in town. She was affectionately known by all as Aunt Isabel. In 1943, 95 year old Aunt Isabel fainted on the wood cookstove. She was badly burnt. Montevallo citizens took turns sitting by her bedside, including my parents, day and night until she died. Her grave lays under a cedar tree, surrounded by a square of cement blocks. Not far from her is the grave of the man who hired her as a cook. He paid for her burial.

Next, we went to Virgil City Cemetery. All that's left of the town is an old shed. We visited Mom's great grandparents. Her parents sent her to live with John and Alvina Bright on their farm north of Montevallo when she was sixteen. She stayed two years to care for them. Mom missed every day contact with her family, but she loved her great grandparents. Great Grandma passed away in 1932. Great Grandpa moved in with Mom's grandparents, ending Mom's caregiving. In those days, families took care of their elderly relatives until they died.

Mom remembered her Great Grandfather as a gentle soul. Rheumatism caused him a lot of pain so he often had Mom rub a homemade liniment on his joints. Great Grandma, Alvina, had the title Blind Grandma tacked on her. So family lore goes, Alvina went blind one day when she stepped out of the outhouse. No one could give me a good reason why. So going blind went into the list of reasons why I worried about using our outhouse along with dive bombing mud dobbers, stepping or sitting on a black snake and the mean rooster laying in wait for me to come out.

Next stop was Moore Cemetery in Nevada to Luther and Flora Belle Bright's graves. Mom's grandmother, Flora Belle Bright, was known as Indian Grandma by the grownups in the family. Her heritage wasn't a matter for discussion with other people though they may have suspected. She was young when Mom's Grandpa Luther, a farmer, brought her home from Kansas. They became a well respected couple in Montevallo. Getting away from the farm for an all day drive sounded like fun when we started, but as the day dragged on and the cemeteries rolled by, John and I wanted to nap between stops. We'd curl up in the back seat until Dad looked in the rearview mirror. He'd say, "Stay awake." or "Sit up." He feared the old exhaust system was leaking into the car, and we might not ever wake up if he let us alone. By that time, we were tired, sweaty, cranky and asking often, "Can we go home now?"

Before Mom passed away, my husband and I took her back to Missouri. For me and her, this was a going back in time trip as we traveled to all the back roads cemeteries again. This time I took a camera. We owned a camera in the fifties but we didn't think about taking pictures of our outings in those days. For Mom's last trip, we bought plenty of silk flowers so she could decorate graves just like in the fifties.

She even put out extra decorations at Olive Branch Cemetery. Eldon Steward's grandparents, George and Bessie Hiestand are buried by their baby next to Mom's two sisters. The Heistands were life long friends of my grandparents and parents. After all of us moved to Iowa, the Hiestands took flowers for the Bright babies when they decorated their baby's grave. This one time, Mom returned the favor.

After ten years of taking care of my father who had Alzheimer's, Mom enjoyed the journey home to connect with the past which held pleasant memories for our whole family. Because I took her to all those cemeteries again, I hope she came back to Iowa with the peace of mind that she taught her children a life lesson years ago that would stick with them. Remember and honor those that came and went before you, because they had a hand in shaping who you are. And just as important, she wanted me to remember to always put out red roses for Dad and for her any spring flowers would do.

Happy Memorial Day!

Author Fay Risner Gets Great Book Review



Happy Mother's Day to all mothers and grandmothers. We celebrated the evening with my husband's 91 year old mother and his siblings and their families, having pieces of several cakes, ice cream and strawberries from my garden.

Saturday, I used the time to reflect on how much I miss my mother who passed away ten years ago while I baked a cake. Her specialty was Angel Food Cake made from scratch. For decades, everyone in the family had a decorated cake for their birthday and other relatives asked my mother to make wedding cakes for them. I didn't feel like I could live up to her great cakes so I didn't try to make one while she was alive. However when we have an abundance of eggs, it seems natural to want to bake a cake just like my mother. Alas, it has taken me several tries to master getting a successful cake. The steps to putting the cake together is precise and takes time. Brought back memories of my mother scolding my brother and me ahead of time to not slam the door on our way outside because it would make her cake fall. She always seemed anxious to get us to leave the house so she could concentrate on a perfect cake. Now I can see why. If the way my cake disappeared on a table with three others I think the Mother's Day cake must have been a good one. I came home with two small slices left.



Mother Nature provided a nice day now that our two weeks of rainy season is behind us. Looks like we're starting summer which is going to be perfect for a visit by three of my cousins who live in Nevada, Missouri. I am so looking forward to their visit. As children we spent a lot of weekends together on my parents farm. We have lots of reminiscing to do when they get here.



Since we've had a warmer winter and spring in Iowa, we are a month ahead with plant growth. My flowers have bloom early, the trees are leafed out and my husband has already mowed the hay for the first time. So making hay is on the schedule for this week. That is one hot, itchy job I don't look forward to.



In this post, I want to share with you how one reader feels about my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series. One of the things I love about being able to communicate by email with book buyers is I ask them to let me know what they think of my books. That feedback is so important to me. Keeps me on the right track with story lines that please the readers. I've been lucky that they respond with the nicest and very helpful suggestions. If you are just learning about my book business I must tell you I sell the books I write from my home as well as online at my bookstore http://www.booksbyfaybookstoreweebly.com . The books I sell at home I can sign which is a reason for customers to contact me personally. Besides that I've loved the one on one with the buyers from all around the country. We've gotten to know each other and chat quite often through emails in between book releases.



Recently, I received this detailed review about my latest book As Is Her Name So Is Redbird which is the fourth in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series. The readers says:



You can write another Hal story at any time now. I finished the newest one this afternoon. Annie's shooting being accidental was a surprise twist. And I thought surely Eli and Mary Mast would receive Beth to raise since they lost their own baby girl. (That would have been a nice touch to the story and perhaps a predictable one. I didn't consider giving the baby away, because I thought the Lapp family was attached to her, and she was a reminder of Annie who they loved like a daughter and missed. Now Nurse Hal will be raising two daughters which are like having a set of twins. This might lead to some hectic and funny stories in the future. Buy my books and find out.)



I really love Tom Turkey, so please don't kill him off as he's such fun. I loved the book, and I expected Stella would say no to Annie joining the Amish church.



Another thing I really appreciate about the Nurse Hal books is they are properly Old Order Amish with the outhouses and heating the water and heating with wood. I'm glad you didn't give Hal a gas cooking stove but kept the wood one. Please don't get rid of it!!! The one thing I don't like about the Old Order Amish fiction that other authors write is that you can't tell much difference between those Amish and Englishers as they have very modern appliances run by gas or propane and have indoor plumbing. Keep up the good work and keep Nurse Hal and her family very old-fashioned! I would guess some of Nurse Hal's life is based on your own.



My reply is, Yes, I'd say some of the farm scenes are from my experiences. It's easy to write about farm life since I've spent my life in the country with a few head of a variety of livestock most of the time such as cattle, horses, hogs, sheep, goats, rabbits, turkey, chickens, ducks and more. From time to time, strange or funny events happened while I've been caring for these animals and birds so you see it's easy to come up with moments in my Nurse Hal books that make the readers laugh.



I agree with the reader about liking the old fashion Amish. Years ago when I was first married my husband and I went to visit his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in Arkansas. They still used the wood cookstoves and had outhouses. Of course, my parents had just barely put in a bathroom in our Iowa home so I was not long from the outhouse experience, but my mom had a gas cookstove for some time. I was small enough when the change in cookstoves came about that I just barely remember the wood stove. So when we ate with the Arkansas relatives I found I loved the flavor of biscuits, eggs and bacon as well as all the other slow cooked from scratch dishes the cooks prepared. Part of the appeal of those vacations were feeling like I'd gone back in time to a slower paced world that brought back memories of my childhood. Although the cooks were glad for to move into new homes with modern kitchens and bathroom, I missed that once a year visit back into the past.



When I first started my Nurse Hal Among the Amish series I did think about making the Lapp kitchen modern for Nurse Hal, but as long as she has Emma doing much of the cooking getting a gas cookstove got put on the back burner so to speak. That's one of the things that has surprised me about being an author is the way the stories rule my thinking. I might be headed one direction and find myself taking the story another way. In this case, it's a good thing I didn't let John Lapp buy a gas cookstove.



If you readers really like the books you're reading remember how helpful and important to the author it is when you leave a good review for the others to see. It helps the author's book sales.



Have a good week.



Author Fay Risner's Latest Book Released

My latest book is a historical post Civil War story set in Texas County, Mo. This book tells the story of Serbina Monroe Harris known as Sibby by her family and friends. The story takes place from the end of the Civil War to the end of her life. The ebook can be found in Kindle and Nook Stores and in paperback on Amazon and in my bookstore http://www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com Just look for Tread Lightly Sibby by Fay Risner. The cover picture holds special meaning for me. The wedding picture is my grandparents - Addie and William Bullock in July 1902. They are such a good looking couple I couldn't resist using them for Sibby and Brice Monroe.
Here is the synopsis on the back cover of the book.
Serbina Ellen Monroe had high hopes at the end of the Civil War for life to be better than it had been during the last four strife filled years. Her husband, Brice, came home from the war wounded, but he had fully recovered. His gristmill and sawmill were busy. Sibby looked forward to the day when lawless renegades in the area were replaced with law abiding citizens. She wanted Texas County, Missouri to be a safe place for her children to grow up. A place where folks lived side by side without being labeled as a Federalist or Confederate sympathizer. Suddenly, Sibby finds her world shattered. Two lawmen, escorting two horse thieves, back to Springfield talk Brice into traveling through the wilderness grove with them. Two weeks later when a young boy finds the thieves dangling from the end of ropes in the grove, Brice is the only one around to point the finger at. He says he's innocent, but he knows he won't be able to find an unbiased jury. There are men in Texas County that have their own reasons for wanting Brice Monroe out of the way. His only alternative is to run as far from Texas County, Missouri as he can get.



I have an Aunt and Uncle in Texas County and have enjoyed many vacations in that area. It just seemed like the perfect place to set this story. Mark Twain National forest runs north of Huston. Roads run between the timbered hills and rocky bluffs in roller coaster fashion. Deer and turkey graze in pastures with cattle.



Soon I'll post the first chapter of Tread Lightly Sibby so you can see what the book is like. Have a good week where ever you are.

Methodist Church Women's Conference Book Event

April 21, 2012 I was invited to attend the Women of Peace United Methodist Parish New Life Conference at the Methodist Church in Van Horne, Iowa. It was a fun day of food and fellowship with a cheerful Spring feel. The table coverings and decorations were pastels for spring. I won one of the decorations by picking up one of the few pink napkin in the stack when I was in line for lunch. The Gospel singer was JayDee Carter. Speakers were Carol Hoyt and Doris Markwitz. Carolyn Moe from Gifts and Gracies, a Christian store in Gladbrook, brought books and items from her shop, and I had a table for my books. How did I get invited to display my books at this event? I'm not considered a Christian genre author, but I write wholesome books with seriousness and humor combined. Many of my books are Iowa based in fictional towns. The organizer of the conference has known me for years and is aware that the type of books I write are suitable for a church event. Many of the women that attended know me or about me as an author. I enjoyed talking to everyone about my books when they stopped by my table with questions about how I choose to write the stories. I haven't done a google search for awhile to see if my name or books pop up in new places so I took the time to do that this morning. I've watched my activity increase on google until I'm up to 17 pages which took me awhile to get through. I made note of a few of the entries about my books that were new to me. Clubreadblogger had a blog on summary of books by and about Iowans read by the book club. One member had read Christmas Traditions-An Amish Love story and learned about the Amish practice of shunning a person who left the Amish community and the Amish lifestyle. Crown Deals - St. Luke Hospital, Cedar Rapids, Iowa's bookstore has my nonfiction Alzheimer's book linked to Amazon- Hello Alzheimer's Good Bye Dad. Amish Pen Pals by Jrgen has links to Amazon for my Amish books as well as others. Published.com- has several of my books linked to Amazon to be purchased. Elesco Host Connection called attention to my story in Good Old Days Magazine titled Lincoln Highway Station Book Finder 4 u - has my books on site linked to Amazon Booktopia in Austrialia has my books for sale Amish Iowa Shockwave falsh Mitra Document has my Amish books linked to Amazon Powell's Books has all my books linked to Google ebooks A1 outlet has my books and ebookXP links the books to Amazon. Alibris in U.S. And UK have my books and Bookadda Bookstore in India has them. The last few weeks haven't been very productive as far as writing on the next book goes. I've been out in the barn taking care of newborn lambs and goats. Now we have hens hatching chicks so we have to keep a close watch on them. As soon as the hen and chicks are ready to leave the nest we put them in a safe room away from the cats who think the cheeping babies are sparrows. My husband thinks a fox was prowling in the machine shed last night, looking for a chicken to carry off. He didn't find one. We've learned to be one step a head of the wild animals in the neighborhood. So that's it for this post. Next week I'll have another new book to tell about that's already been released.

Research Trip To Kalona, Iowa

The Kalona Salebarn had a draft horse sale last Monday and Tuesday. We aren't in the market to buy, but we love to watch the large work horses prance around the ring put through their paces by Amish farmers. The place was packed so I know we aren't the only ones who like to watch. For me, it's a good chance to study Amish families so it's a research day. In back, the salebarn has a walk way above the holding pens so we toured over the horses. Evidently, we weren't close enough to get a good look. My husband decided we should walk down between the pens. Up close, the draft horses look like giants which was way too close for me. Paying more attention to what was in the pens than the alley, I soon found myself standing right where a pair of large black horses needed to go to be put in a pen which was behind me. I danced one way then the other and came to a halt behind my husband who flattened himself against a pen until the horses walked by. We took a tour of the parking lot. The day before had been a sale of old machinery, buggies and the unusual. One small enclosed buggy caught my attention. I was trying to figure out where the door for it was when one man said if I had been there on Monday I could have bought the buggy. I told him I didn't know what I would do with it. We didn't have a horse to hook to it. I never did find the door. The strangest sight for me was a carriage that reminded me of the one in the Cinderella fairy tale. I always take my camera, looking for Amish pictures that might work on a book cover. I couldn't resist getting a shot of the carriage minus Cinderella.

I took some pictures of the row of parked Amish buggies. The latest style of buggy must be a small, square plexi glass, one seat buggy. Light weight and easy to see out of all the way around. Looked like the only way to climb in was over the seat. On our ride in the country, we passed one such buggy with two young girls in it. I don't take close ups of Amish people so I didn't take their picture in the buggy. I did come home with plenty of farm scenes and a one room school which I will be using in my next book in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series. Check out some of my book covers to see the pictures I've used.

Amish cooks had baked many pies and angel food cakes for the bake sale and a grill was going to serve lunches. Just looking at the pies made me hungry for a rhubarb pie so as soon as we got home I went to my garden and pulled enough stalks to bake a pie. The first pie of the season always tastes the best. The salebarn Amish cafe was really busy. Guess many had the same thought we did that if we ate at eleven we'd beat the rush. No such luck, but we knew about another good place to eat. We wanted to stop by the Mennonite grocery store so we ate in the deli there. Since it was Tuesday the Amish stores in the country weren't open. It's their day off. We drove around, admiring the Amish gardens and picturesque farmsteads. One garden had the biggest cabbage or cauliflower plants I've seen for this time of year. I can't imagine when the seed had to be planted in the house or greenhouse to grow plants that big. Some gardens had rows of milk jugs with fragile plants under them. We stopped by a well known Raha green house near Wellman to just look around. I have all the tomato plants and peppers I need which I started in February and always enough flowers carried over from the year before to set out. What caught my eye was the pots of Cassia didymobotrya which is known as popcorn cassia. The sign said smell the leaves. I rubbed a leave between my thumb and finger. Believe it or not, the smell is like buttered popcorn and the flowers are yellow and shaped something like popcorn. As usual, I waited until I was home to wish I had bought one of those plants for my mother-in-law. Oh well, maybe we'll be going back soon. I'll pick up a plant next time.

Nurse Hal Series First Chapter Lastest Book

I'd like to share with you the first chapter of my latest Amish book As Is Her Name So Is Redbird which is number 4 in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series.
If you've ever lived in an older farm house like I have most of my life you can recall the invasion of mice when fall is in the air. Nurse Hal can't stand the thought of a mouse loose in the house with her. When that happens, she will go to any extreme to get rid of the creature.

Chapter 1

Hal Lapp took a deep breath and blurted out to her step daughter, "So, Emma, are you going to assist me with delivery when I go into labor?"
The iron skillet the sixteen year old girl had dried slid out of her hand and banged down on top the wood cookstove.
Hal flinched. "Mercy!"
Afraid to look over her shoulder at Emma, she turned the kettle she was washing toward the window for more light to see in it. She concentrated on the inside to see if she'd gotten it clean and continued causally, "It's just that I've been thinking. Right after our medical clinic was built, Jane Bontrager brought up the idea of using it for a birthing clinic. Since I haven't had one single Plain woman want to deliver here yet, it looks like I'm going to be the first. I need to plan for the big day. After all, I may only have two weeks left." Hal hesitated, thinking about what to say next. She had hinted at needing the girl's help before, but Emma always changed the subject. What would convince Emma to help her?
She looked out the window and saw evidence that her due date was getting closer. Mid March was showing hopeful signs of a much awaited early spring in Iowa. The sun basked the greening yard in a warm glow. Busy chickens scattered, scratching for an early nightcrawler or trying to uncover a nest of hiding lady bugs. One of Emma's roosters extended his neck and crowed several times. The other rooster answered from the barn yard.
Utter silence from Emma. Finally Hal twisted to look at her. The panic plastered on Emma's pale face highlighted her freckles. She was staring at Hal while she unconsciously wadded and unwadded the dish towel in her hands.
Hal insisted, "Well?"
Emma opened her mouth and closed it, struggling to find her voice. She took a deep breath and exclaimed adamantly, "Ach, nah. You can not be serious, asking me a question like that."
"Very serious. I don't have much time to waste. I have to have a plan in place. I'll need help." Hal pressed, "I want you to be my help."
Emma swallowed hard and stuttered, "I – I think we should pick a gute midwife to help this first time. We could both use some teaching about childbirth from someone with experience. I have never done such as this. You are a nurse and have taken classes, but you are the first to admit you have not the experience when it comes to delivering babies. For sure, you will not be a help to anyone assisting you once you are in labor. Another thing ----."
Hal interjected, "Why would you say something like I won't be a help?"
A blush flushed Emma's face as she pictured Hal in labor. She averted her eyes and busied herself scooting the skillet on the stove to a warmer place to finish drying it. "Believe me, it will all be very different from your view of things at the head of the bed. What if something went wrong? I would not know what to do. Another thing, I do not know how calm I can be when it is you I am helping give birth. We need someone else not related to you with experience enough to have a level head," Emma reasoned frankly.
Hal laughed. "You know what? I think you're right. We better come up with plan B before the end of March."
"Jah! And a whole team already in place very soon, just encase, to take care of the surprises," Emma predicted, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "As well as I know you, Hallie Lapp, I know we need to be prepared for the unexpected. No matter what the situation, always when you are around we have surprises."
Hal giggled as she finished washing the last pan and placed it in the rinse water. She wrung out the dish cloth and proceeded to wash off the table. Emma dried the stainless steel pot and headed for the lower cupboard on the end of the counter. The pot hit the floor with a loud clatter. A gush of air expelled from the girl as she propelled back and braced herself against the counter.
Hal had been feeling edgy lately. It didn't take much to put her over the edge. She glanced from the pot on the floor to Emma and admonished, "Fudge! I didn't mean to upset you this much. I said I'd come up with a plan B. Why are you still upset?"
Emma shook her head. "That is not it. A mouse just came out of the cupboard and scared me."
Hal wrinkled her nose and searched the floor. "That's awful."
"Jah. Now we have to wash all the pots and pans it walked in," Emma said resignedly.
"That won't do a bit of good if we don't catch the mouse. He will be back in the cupboard in the night. Where did he go?"
Emma pointed behind the cookstove. "Under the corner of the wood box."
Hal studied the wood box with disgust. "We have to run that awful creature out from under there and get it out of the house."
"How?"
"I can have the boys bring in Buttercat," Hal suggested.
"You know Daed does not like a cat in the house," warned Emma, keeping her eye on the wood box for any quick movement of the mouse. "Is your memory so short you do not remember how Daed acted last time you brought Buttercat inside?"
Hal countered, "I remember all right that Buttercat is good at his job. Is your memory so short you don't remember Buttercat caught that mouse."
Emma gave her a grumpy look.
"All right. We'll do this ourselves. We need to pull the wood box back, and the nasty animal will run out." Hal started for the opposite side of the cookstove.
"Stop!" Emma snapped. "You are not going to pull on that heavy wood box in your condition. I will do it, but what do we do to catch the mouse when he runs out?"
"Oh yeah." Hal thought for a second. "Give me a minute." She waddled out to the mud room and came back, holding the broom, handle first in front of her. "Now when I'm ready you move the wood box."
"You can not possibly think you are going to be fast enough to poke the mouse toward the mud room door and let him outside," Emma said dryly.
"That isn't what I had in mind," Hal huffed. She turned the broom around and stuck the broom's straw head over her shoulder. "Now I'm ready."
Emma took up position at the opposite end of the wood box. She waited while Hal sidled in the small space between the box and the cookstove.
"Now, Emma, tug."
Emma jerked. The box inched back. The mouse eased out and flattened to the floor, indecisive about what to do next. Hal lifted the broom and felt resistance as she swiftly brought the broom down. Even when she heard the grating crunch behind her, she kept the broom coming hard and fast toward the mouse. Not even the yelp from Emma kept her from her mission. That nasty creature wasn't going back in the pan cupboard ever again. Once the broom straws hit the floor over the mouse, Hal glanced over her shoulder. A dangling stove pipe, hooked to the wall pipe, quivered, spilling soot on top of Emma.
That dismal sight caused Hal to shift the broom slightly on the floor. She looked down as the mouse hunkered just beyond the broom then sprinted fast toward the cupboard. "Oh nah, the mouse is headed for the pots and pans again," Hal said in a panic.
She raised the broom over her shoulder, tangled with the pipe again. The blow put the pipe into a swinging motion. Soot sifted over Hal this time. Oblivious about the calamity behind her, she concentrated on her aim and clobbered the mouse. Once the broom was on top of the gross little creature, Hal quickly stepped on the straws. She watched the floor around her feet to make sure she had succeeded. A feeling of victory surged through her when she heard loud squeaks emitted from under the broom. Hal proudly announced, "I got him."
"You got me too," coughed Emma, batting at smoke billowing from the stove pipe attached to the cookstove.
Dumbfounded, Hal couldn't believe her eyes. Emma's face was streaked with soot and black specks continued on down her dress. Her white prayer cap was now mostly black and sifting soot into Emma's light brown hair. No way was that cap ever going to come clean. Maybe not even the dress. "Fudge! The pipe's broke. You're a mess," Hal stated.
Emma swiped with her dress sleeve at the black ring that circled her mouth to keep the soot from going into her mouth when she spoke. "You should not be one to cast stones. You are a mess, too," she wheezed disgustedly.
"Did I do all this?" Hal inquired disbelievingly, taking inventory of Emma, the mess behind the stove and the smoky room. Her throat began to tickle. She tried to wave the smoke away from her face with her hand but the effort was useless.
Emma retorted, "You certainly did. We better fix the pipe fast before Daed comes back. I am having trouble breathing with the way the kitchen is filling up with smoke," She reached for the dangling pipe and withdrew her hand quickly. "Ouch!" She snapped and put a finger in her mouth.
"What's wrong?"
"The stove pipe is too hot to hold, and it is bent. It will not fit back on the other piece without straightening the opening," said Emma, perplexed.
As if things weren't bad enough the living room banged. John called, "Hal, Emma, we have company." A pause then he said, "Hurry, Elton. The kitchen is full of smoke."
Bishop Elton Bontrager's voice filled with good humor as he replied, "Is Hal baking bread again?"
Hal rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Why did John always tell Elton about her goofs so they could have a good laugh at her expense? Well, this was one time her husband wouldn't have to bother share with the bishop. Elton would get to see first hand, and she feared John wasn't going to find this dilemma one bit funny.
John, Elton and his wife, Jane, burst into the kitchen. Jane stared at Hal a second with her hand clamped over her mouth as she choked. The way her warm brown eyes sparkled, Hal figured the older woman was more choked from surpressing humor than on the smoke.
As John Lapp rushed across the kitchen, his dark brown eyes narrowed at Hal with annoyance. "Get the windows open." As he rushed behind the stove, he scolded, "Hal you should not try cleaning the flue out with a fire in the cookstove. This could have waited until spring."
Jane and Emma raised the windows. The breeze fluttered the white half curtains and thinned down the smoke in the room. Emma handed Jane a dish towel, and they moved about the room, waving their towels.
John took his chore gloves out of a hind pant pocket, put them on and grabbed the pipe hooked to the cookstove. He tried to fit it in the pipe sticking out of the flue.
Elton stood behind John, watching. His face changed from rosy red to beet red as he tried to breathe. "Can I help, John?"
Concentrating on his task, John said, "Somehow the stove pipe has gotten really bent. It will not slide together. Elton, get me a pair of pliers from the tool bucket in the mud room."
As the short, heavy set man rushed into the mud room, the back door slammed. Noah and Daniel past Elton and came into the kitchen. They stopped short and waved the smoke away from their faces.
Daniel's doe like dark eyes widened as he whispered, "What is going on?"
"I do not think we better ask. Look how dirty Mama Hal and Emma are. From the way Daed looks, I think they are probably in trouble with him," Noah replied gravely.
"Why is it we always miss out when something gute happens?" Daniel groaned softly.
Hal held her breath as long as she could, breathed in and sucked smoke into her already burning lungs. She wrapped her arms around her expanding waist and coughed hard. Jane bolted around the table to help her and stubbed her toe on the broom handle. Hal caught the older woman as she stumbled. Jane uprighted herself, looked down to see what she tripped on and back at Hal. Her voice was a flat statement. "You are standing on your broom."
"I know," Hal said hoarsely.
Jane tugged on Hal's arm. "You must get out of here into fresh air. This smoke is not good for you to breathe."
"I can't leave yet. I'm standing on a mouse under the broom, and it may not be dead," Hal said stubbornly. "I don't want him to get away after we went to all this trouble to catch him."
From behind the stove, Elton said incredulously to John, "Did all this happen because of a mouse?"
"Sounds like it probably did," said John matter a factly.
"It would have been a lot simplier to bring a cat in to catch the mouse," Elton surmised.
"Here take the pliers," John said, ending the conversation.
Hal and Emma fanned their faces as they coughed. Jane held a hanky over her nose. "You both need out of here, mouse or no mouse."
"Wait!" Hal saw the boys, standing in the corner. She motioned to Noah and Daniel. "Come here." She said, "Daniel, place one of your feet between my feet." He did. "Now when I move my other foot you step onto the broom." Daniel gave Hal a thoroughly bewildered gaze as she stepped off. "You're standing on a mouse under the broom. I'll let you boys figure out how to get him from under your feet and out of the house. Please, after all this don't let him get away," Hal pleaded, patting her chest.
Once they got out on the front porch, the women inhaled deep breaths of fresh air between coughing spells.
When they quieted down, Jane exclaimed, "I can breathe so much better now."
"I agree," Hal said huskily, clearing her throat. The chilly east breeze picked up, causing her to shiver.
"You should have your coat on. This no time to catch a cold," Jane scolded.
"Nah, I don't want to have to wash the soot off my gute coat." Hal studied Emma a minute. "You look awful covered with black soot."
"You should see yourself. You look just as awful," Emma said and giggled.
Jane surveyed both of them and chuckled. Suddenly all three women were laughing until tears smudged the soot on Hal and Emma's faces.
Emma said, "I am going to get you a chair so you can sit down, Hallie. You have been on your feet long enough." She brought back two chairs, and a blanket for Hal. Jane opened the screen door to let her out. "Jane, you sit too and talk to Hallie. I'm going to get washed up and change clothes before it is time to fix dinner."
"Put on plenty of water and let me know when you're done with the tub," Hal told her.
After Emma left, Jane said, "Seems as though we picked a bad morning to come visit."
"I can't imagine what you think of me. I'm sorry you got in this mess," Hal declared.
"I am not one bit sorry. I can always count on you to perk up my day, Hallie Lapp," said Jane, giggling.
Hal looked over her shoulder and uttered ruefully, "Denki, but I hope John sees this morning that way. He's not so calm about accidents sometimes."
Jane chuckled. "In that case, we will leave as soon as Elton gets done helping John. We are on our way to Wickenburg. We stopped so I could find out if you have a plan in place for the big day. Are you going to the hospital?"
Hal's attention was on Noah and Daniel as they came from behind the house, headed to the barn. Daniel carried the mouse by its tail. The body looked limber. She didn't have to worry about Buttercat letting that one get away so it could find its way back to the house.
"Hal, did you hear me?"
Jane's voice brought Hal back to her company. "Sorry, I was watching the boys take the mouse to the barn and thinking good riddance. What did you say?"
"I asked if you had a plan for help when the baby arrives?"
"Oh, jah. It wouldn't be a very good recommendation if I went to the hospital and then expected Plain women to come to my birthing clinic when it's their turn. Emma didn't want me to be her first assist at helping a birthing patient so I'll ask Rachel Kitzmiller at church on Sunday to help me. Emma can watch and help her to get the experience."
"Des gute idea. I think you and Emma have made a wise decision. Rachel has brought many babies into the world safely. She is a gute choice," Jane said approvingly.
About a half hour later, John and Elton came out the screen door. Emma, scrubbed clean, was right behind them.
"We should leave," Elton told Jane.
"Denki for your help, Elton," John said.
"Hallie, I have your bath water ready," Emma told her.
"I'm glad. Come back soon you two." Hal waved good bye as the Bontragers walked toward their buggy.
John leaned against the porch post and folded his arms over his chest. "While you get cleaned up, Hal, maybe Emma could tell me what happened to turn the kitchen and the both of you into such a mess."
"Jah, Emma can tell you," Hal said quickly. She got a stern look from Emma for leaving her to face John. As she let the screen door bang behind her, she said, "Be back when I'm clean."
In her bedroom, Hal pulled a purple dress from a peg on the wall. She opened a dresser drawer for underwear. Her hand hit a bottle that rolled out from under the stack of panties. Rose bath oil. She'd forgotten she smuggled that bottle in when she moved. Since Amish women didn't wear perfume, Hal was afraid that bath oil would be prohibited. With the mess she was in, this seemed like as good a time as any to transgress. She needed all the help she could get to smell human again. Besides, who would know besides her. She rolled her dress around the bottle and headed for the tub.
By the time Hal bathed and washed her curly copper red hair several times to get all the soot out, Emma had dinner ready. Hal made it to the table just in time. As soon as the family finished the silent prayer, Daniel wiggled his nose like a rabbit as he sniffed the air. "I smell something sweet, but it is not Emma's food." He sniffed again. "More like flowers."
Noah took in a deep breath. "Jah, I smell it, too. It is a pleasant smell all right. What can it be?"
Hal looked from one to the other boy, amazed that bath oil as old as hers was still so potent. She was already in more than enough trouble with John. She was dumb to add one more thing to her Make John Unhappy list. Why didn't she ever think of the consequences before she acted? Generations of dead Lapps were probably screaming protests from their graves about her offending transgression, smelling up their house with her Englischer bath oil.
Curious now, Emma sniffed and surmised, "It is the smell of roses. We do not have roses in bloom this time of year. Where can it be coming from?"
Hal ducked her head and picked at her food.
John leaned closer to Hal and sniffed. His lips twitched as he put her on the spot, "Hal, you are awful quiet, ain't? Have you noticed the sweet smell in the air?"
Hal gave John a painful I've been busted look. "I've noticed, hopefully, the smell will go away soon."
For the first time since John found the kitchen a mess, he smiled. He must have figured Hal had been through enough for one day. He winked at her as he said, "I think the boys will agree the smell of roses is much more pleasant than the smell of a kitchen full of smoke."
"Oh, jah," Noah agreed. "The smell is much better than smoke."
Hal relaxed and ate her lunch. Looked as though there was one advantage to being pregnant. Her family took sympathy on her for her mistakes.