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A Home for Phoebe?

I have a deal for you!
(click here for details) 

Friday Fiction - Quixy the Great Imaginator

Today I have the honor of hosting Friday Fiction. A cluster of us writers link up each week to share our stories. If you want to join us, add the link of your blog or website at the bottom of this page. Of course, if you just want to spend a few minutes just reading them, that's fine too. 

Enjoy! 

Any writer will tell you about the voice in their head that pester them with all kinds of ideas at most inappropriate times. This voice (or muse) is continually creating up plots and poems and imagining mysteries and romances. It can drive a writer crazy. Meet my voice - 

Quixy the Great Imaginator

Up and down….up and down…I dunk the tea bag into the hot water. My sleepy mind slowly gains consciousness as I watch the liquid darken.

Hey! There’s a story in that!

Oh no…my quixotic imagination is awake.

That teabag is like Christ.  He is in you and you are in Him! The more time you spend you spend together, the more you become like Him.  That’s a good devotional. You ought to blog about that.

Yes, Quixy, that is a good idea, but I don’t have time to write about it this morning. A sunbeam falls across my open Bible and I gasp.

Ohhhhh…how beautiful, how symbolic!  

Purest holy light

Showing what is right

Teaching treasures true

“Mom!  I can’t find my shoe!”

Thus starts my morning-fixing breakfast, packing Scott’s lunch, signing a permission slip, driving to school, grocery shopping, etc. I notice Mrs. Ackroyd staring at a package on her front step. She doesn’t notice as I wave to her.

A mystery! I love mysteries! Maybe it’s from a long lost lover that’s been waiting years for her husband to die so he could court her again or maybe it’s from a child she gave up for adoption. Maybe it’s a bomb!

“Don’t be ridiculous, Quixy. She is probably only having trouble reading the handwriting.”

 

After washing the dishes and vacuuming, I settle on the couch to fold the laundry. I laugh at little Sally putting some shorts on her head. I give up trying to quiet Quixy and let him play his game.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl that did everything backwards. She wore socks on her hands and mittens on her feet. She wore a pair of shorts for a hat and zipped her snowsuit upside-down. She was a very silly girl.

I decide to take advantage of the warm weather and go to the park with Sally. We stop to sniff some tulips, and I read the plaque on a monument nearby.

SAMUEL PRESCOTT

(Aug. 19, 1751- 1777 ?)

As Tuesday, April 18, 1775, drew to a close, Dr. Samuel Prescott of Concord lingered at the Lexington home of his sweetheart, Lydia Mulliken. Joining Paul Revere and William Dawes, he warned Concord of the approaching British. Of the three patriots, Prescott alone escaped capture.

Cool! I didn’t know that-did you? There must be a lot more information you could research and write about. Maybe you could write it from girl’s point-of-view.

Sally swings for awhile and slips down the slide. We spend the next hour playing and digging holes in the sandbox. Sally spills her water bottle, and the water makes a mini river before disappearing into the sand.

Hey, this sand is like a desert-like a wilderness. Imagine you are an Israelite mother and your child is crying with thirst. When the water gushes from the rock, steam rises as it hits the hot sand.

I realize that it’s almost time for Scott’s bus and Bill will be home soon. Lifting Sally on my back, I gallop back home and put her down for a nap. Scott bursts in the door and tosses his back-pack on the kitchen table before rushing outside to play. The spaghetti bubbles, and I’m almost done preparing the salad, when I hear the front door open.

“Hi, Honey, I’m home!”  Bill pecks me on the cheek and says, “That smells good,” before collapsing before the TV in his recliner.

You call that romantic?  I can do better than that!  William clutched Eva around the waist and handed her a scarlet rose. He dipped her back and kissed her long and hard until she gasped for breath. “Eva, you are more gorgeous than a hundred roses!”

Quixy, stop that! I love Bill, and I know he loves me.

Bill comes in the kitchen long enough to grab a soda can from the fridge. “Did you say something to me, Eva?”

“No, I was just thinking out loud, you know….writing in my head.”

Late that night, I snuggle into my pillow. Bill’s steady snoring lulls my mind into the misty land of dreams; when I sense something jumping up and down on my pillow.

Wake up! Wake up! I know what you can write about. I have the perfect idea. You can write about me, Quixy the Great Imaginator!

~ ~ ~

Don't forget to encourage these writers with a few kind comments.  

Friday Fiction -

Today I have the privilege to host 

Friday Fiction.

A group of writers posts their stories on their web sites

and link them together, so that you can enjoy a whole

bundle of interesting stories. 

If you wish to join us,

add the link to your web site or blog 

to the Linky at the bottom of my post. 

Enjoy!

I love allegories. 

This is a short one based on the story of David and Goliath.

(I Samuel 17)

It is aslo available as an e-book at both

SmashWords 

Full Sail Books.

Peeper and the Great Hawkins

“Why is everyone still huddled in the chicken coop this morning?” asked Peeper as he stretched his scrawny wings and legs.

“Haven’t you seen him?” quavered his brother. “He’s the biggest crow I’ve ever seen!”

“I don’t think he is a crow,” exclaimed another. “He looks more like a vulture to me!”

A loud ruckus of caws and squawks drew Peeper to the door. A menacing flock of crows lined the pasture fence, with a huge black bird claiming the center post. His wing feathers shimmered in the morning sun, his hooked beak opened and closed, and his sharp talons scratched deep scars in the wood.

Just as Peeper stepped back into the safety of the coop, the large bird’s voice screeched through the air. “Who will fight me, the Great Hawkins of the High Hills? If you win, you may have your freedom; but if I win, we will claim these yards and fields for ourselves. You’re all afraid of me. You are nothing but chickens!”

Peeper looked at his brothers and the other cocks cowering in the shadows. “Isn’t anyone going to fight for our farm?”

“He’ll slaughter us! Didn’t you see that beak and those talons and those big wings?”

“I’m not afraid! This is Farmer Goodly’s farm. He will not fail us.” Peeper turned to face the enemy.

“You can’t go; you’re just a chick! You still have downy feathers beneath your chin!”

“I’ve scared away a squirrel and a rat. I’m not afraid!”

The young bird puffed up his chest and held his neck high, and began marching across the barnyard toward the Great Hawkins of the High Hills.

The crows laughed and chuckled among themselves at the ridiculous sight, and Hawkins scowled with an angry gleam. He opened his yellow beak and bellowed, “Am I a mouse, that you send this nestling to me? I’ll tear him from gizzard to tail feathers!”

“I come to you without fear, for I belong to Farmer Goodly.”

With that, the brave young cock lowered his head and spread his wings and ran toward the big, black bully. He cheeped with all his might and kicked up dust with his tiny claws. Just as he was within a few feet of the giant bird, a great explosion shattered the air.
KABOOM! The crows scattered away in fear, and nothing was left of the Great Hawkins but a pile of shredded feathers.

Peeper looked about him in amazement to see a pair of boots on either side of him. He looked up and up and up, until he looked into the kind face of his wonderful Farmer Goodly.

~ ~ ~

If you wish to join us, add your link here, or just hop from site to site reading some great stories.

B is for . . .

BIRTHDAYS

I have the most wonderful group of friends

over at Faithwriters.

At first, I was hesitant to join an online group.

(Aren't we all warned about making cyber friends?)

But I soon realized that this group was safe and loving

and that they thought just like I did.

(Scary, huh?)

I attended a conference a few summers ago,

and we noticed that many of us had August birthdays.

Hardly a day in the month was void of a Faithwriter birthday.

(It's like a huge party all month long.)

Every year, my family asks me what I want for my birthday.

(which happens to be tomorrow)

Most of the time, what I want is not affordable or practical.

This year is no different,
 but maybe I can whittle it down to a reasonable wish.

I wish to renovate my bathroom.

(at least get started on it)

I'd love to make it into a woodsy, natural, rustic looking decor.

(with black bears and wood accents)

Doesn't that sound like fun?

B ...is also for a cute one-wheeled bicycle.

(which is a unicycle, of course)

There's a wonderful poem on Polliwog Pages today.

Head over to Peej's Patterings for more A2Z - B things.

Polliwog Pages Summer Fun

I'm all excited about our summer writing contest!

Two writers will win a Polliwog Pages T-shirt

at the end of August.

(Click Here for More Info)

Also, there's a story about a cute puppy on

KIDS WRITE.

Drum Roll, Please * * * * * * *

  

and the winner 

of a signed copy of 

A HOME FOR PHOEBE  

is  . . . 

JEDIDJA 

(click here to see her blog)

(from the Netherlands)

Wow! Zeke will need a boat to make this delivery!

Thank you, dear friends, for joining us this last few weeks.
Thank you SO MUCH, Rita Garcia, for organizing the book tour!
I also appreciate all those who hosted Zeke throughout the month.
That was fun.

(Those who didn't win a book,
you can get a signed copy of A Home for Phoebe

from Full Sail Books
or EMAIL me.

You can also purchase it at Amazon.com .)

Almost Home

It's hard to define the word "home." 

            Home . . . Home calls you from the winding trails of life with an irresistible yearning to return, much as the honking geese wing northward or the leaping salmon struggle upstream.

            Subtle hints evoke a forgotten memory— a whiff of freshly baked bread or a lullaby’s tune. The memory flows into the mind like a soothing balm, but not able to heal the ache for something far away.

            Its power draws and urges the restless soul to search until that mystic place is found . . . and the weary, lonesome heart finally sighs with contentment . . . home.

Tomorrow, Zeke will be home. He's been on the road all month, and Ol' Sam needs a rest.  He's met lots of new friends, and TOMORROW one of them will win a copy of Phoebe's book. If you leave a comment here, or at the Altered Bee, or on my Facebook page you can still be in the drawing. 

A Timely Poem

I wrote this poem for a Faithwriter Challenge for the topic "Time." I like to think about time and eternity. It baffles my mind and fills me with the wonder of God's greatness and immensity.

IS IT TIME YET?

“In the beginning…” 

God promised a Savior,

To redeem this sinful world,

From its wicked behavior.

“All nations shall be blessed…”

Through the seed of Abraham,

The Messiah will someday come,

It was God’s perfect plan.

Almighty God, “I AM”

Did set His people free,

His angel of Death passed over,

He separated the sea.

“Be strong, and of good courage!”

The cry rang out that day.

“This is the land God promised you;

Trust in His strength; obey.”

“Thy throne shall be forever,”

To King David, it was said.

An everlasting kingdom,

In peaceful pastures led.

“Bethelehem, Ephratah,

Out of thee shall come…”

This simple little village

Would bring the Promised One.

“And the days were accomplished…”

The time was drawing near,

Son of Man and Son of God

Heavenly hosts prepared to cheer.

“Unto you is born this day..”

The choir of angels sang,

“Glory to the newborn King!”

The rafters of heaven rang.

“A light to lighten the Gentiles,

A glory to Israel.”

The spotless Lamb of God, 

His wondrous plan revealed.

“Today thou shalt be in Paradise,”

“It is finished!” he cried.

They knew not what they did,

The Messiah was crucified.

“That hour knoweth no man”

When the trumpet will sound.

A triumphant call to His own,

In whose heart, He is found.

“The Alpha and Omega,

The beginning and the end.”

Our King, our Lord, our Savior,

To Thee our knees we bend. 

Genesis 1:1, Genesis 26:4, Exodus 3:14, Joshua 1:6, 2 Samuel 7:16, Micah 5:2, Luke 2:6, Luke 2:11, Luke 2:32, Mark 13:32, Luke 23:43, John 19:30, Rev. 1:8

~ # ~ 

Today Zeke is visiting Joy Bach in the state of Washington. Don't forget to leave a comment, either on her blog or my Facebook page - to get in the hat to win a copy of A HOME FOR PHOEBE.

On Top of the World

 . . . at least that's what it must seem like

at Zeke's next stop in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.

I hope Ol' Sam is careful as they climb to Marijo Phelp's place

or he'll be sliding off the road like Maseppa and Phoebe did in

A HOME FOR PHOEBE.

Wow! What a view!

Have you put your name in the hat

for the drawing of a free copy?

Put a comment on Marijo's blog

or on my Facebook page.

Br..r..r..r Chilly Morning!

It's a cold morning, but that's how it is in April if you live in Ontario, Canada. That's where Zeke is this morning. He's visiting Christina Banks's Writing Blog . I hope he brought his warm mittens that Granny knitted for him.

Christina is a fellow writer who has traveled along with me for a while.

First at Christian Writers Guild 

(where she has just been accepted into their Craftsman Course),

 then at Faithwriters. ( a great group of writers) 

I should have hopped on Zeke's wagon, because I've yet to see Christina in person. I know we'd have lots to talk about - music, children, and writing, of course.

Don't forget to leave a comment on her blog

 or my Facebook page for a chance at signed copy of

A Home for Phoebe. 

 You can purchase A Home for Phoebe

 at Amazon.com  

at Full Sail Books 

or directly from me.

Mosying Along . . .

 

 Zeke is on the move again.

He's over at Nancy Sullivan's blog

  A Softer Voice 

 Perhaps he'll play a tune on his fiddle 

if you leave a comment on her blog

or on my 

FaceBook Page.

Well, at least, you'll get your name
in the hat
 for
a signed copy of
A HOME FOR PHOEBE

In the Hot Seat

Today, I'm being interviewed on Christine Ramey's blog

  INSPIRED NOVELS.

(Click Here)

Don't forget that to win a

FREE BOOK,

you need to leave a comment on a blog

or on my Facebook page.

Faster Than a Locomotive

Wow! Zeke must not have stopped for a minute after leaving Sue's blog. He arrived at Mari La Vell  in Washington state in the early hours of Sunday morning. I hope he had a chance to go to meeting and rest yesterday.

Ol' Sam must be some horse - I hope Zeke gave him extra oats this morning. 

They won't be in Washington very long. They have another long trip ahead of them.

(hint: at least it will be warmer)

Have you left your name in a comment on a blog

or my author's page on facebook?

You can win a free signed copy of A HOME FOR PHOEBE.

You Never Know

Today Zeke the Peddler's route is way up in the corner of the country 

- in Fort Kent, Maine.

I've never been to Sue Morneault's house, 

and I didn't even know her a year ago . . .

(A Heart to Change Our Generation for Christ)

But God brought her into my life last fall, and within minutes, it was like we had known each other all our lives. There was an instant bond - the bond of the God's Spirit between us. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we had in common.

Sue's daughter, Mindy , suffered a brain injury while playing soccer. Because her therapy sessions were hours away from home, she was staying at Gary's House in Portland, and that's where we met. Now Mindy and her family are raising funds for a building like Gary's House, but for others with brain injuries who need a temporary home during their treatments.

(All Things Become New) 

You never know know 

when God will bring a new friend across your path 

just when you need them most.

Comment on my FaceBook Author Page page
(or any of the participating blogs)

 for a chance at winning a FREE copy of A Home for Phoebe.

Clip-Clopping Along

Today, Zeke is in Ohio, at Dee Yoder's blog

 My Heart's Dee-Light

Dee knows a lot about horse and buggies.

She has a heart for the Amish people. (She married one!)

She has taught me so much about the Amish.

(CLICK HERE)

Psssst...

She's a writer, too, and will have a book published soon.

(I can't wait to read it!)

To have a chance at winning a FREE BOOK of

A Home for Phoebe,

leave a comment on Dee's blog

(or any of the participating blogs)

or

on my Facebook Author Page.

Guess What Today Is!

It's not stated exactly in the book A Home for Phoebe,

but today, April 8, is Phoebe's birthday!

Spring is in the air, the plants are budding, 

and the birds are returning to their nesting grounds.

Here is a short excerpt for you -

3. Growing

Once again, the winter winds turned into the warm breezes of spring. Streams roared with the melting snows, linens fluttered on the clotheslines, and the phoebes nested in eaves of the barn. The hens led their broods of chicks about the yard. Lolly had a calf, and there was plenty of milk.

Maseppequa returned from the barn with full pail of milk just as the family roused for the day. Ben tickled Phoebe and said, “Guess what today is.”

“Christmas?” Her face lit up hopefully.

“Close . . . it’s your birthday! Five years ago, on a warm April day, just like today, just as the sun peeked through the apple tree, God gave us a wonderful present that had two arms, two legs, and two blue eyes.”

“Me!”

Maseppequa poured the milk through a clean cloth while she listened. I remember when Phoebe be born. Maseppequa had changed so much since then. It seemed a lifetime ago.

Ben touched the tip of Phoebe's nose. “Yes, you . . . but what happened? You’re much too big to be that little girl!”

“I grew!”

“Are you sure? Let’s measure you on the door frame.”

Phoebe scurried to the pantry door and pushed her back against it, holding her chin up high. Ben scratched a mark above her head and stretched the measuring to the floor. “Hmm . . . I don’t believe it! Ten feet tall!”

“No, Papa!”

“Hmm . . . Now, this is more like it . . . three feet and four inches.”

Phoebe tipped her head to look at the top. “How big are you, Papa?”

Ben stood against the door as Martha marked him.

Maseppequa carried the pail to the shed where the milk would stay cool. When she returned, Ben was measuring Martha. Phoebe hopped from one foot to the other. "Maseppa, when is your birthday?"

Maseppequa looked from Phoebe to Martha and Ben. "I . . . I not know. I not have birthday." The room suddenly seemed too small and too warm. "I go for walk. I be back before dark."

I not belong here. I not belong with Algonkin. No matter how hard Maseppequa tried to forget, her past crept up and reminded her that she was different. She would never fit in this world of the white man. Maybe Pete should have taken her back to the Indians. Maybe it would have been better if he had never come back into her life. It be better I not be born.

The trees and crickets whispered comfort to her soul. When the bright star shone in the west, she followed the trail back to where she knew there was love.

~ # ~

  Zeke the Peddler has stopped at three blogs on his route,

look for the next one tomorrow at Dee Yoder's blog .

POETRY MONTH - "Celeste's Sestina"

April is National Poetry Month.

Here is a poem that I had so much fun writing!

It combines my love for French

with a specific style of poetry called a "sestina"

which uses a specific pattern of rhyme.

(CLICK HERE)

Celeste’s Sestina

Mademoiselle Celeste, so petite and fair,

With silky locks and eyes so bleu,

Who lived with her smiling, but grande belle mere,

Who sold fromage, carrottes, et choux.

Billy was far from his home in America, where

He all he could say was “Bonjour” and “Adieu.”

Oh, what was the poor lovesick boy to do?

He paid the bus driver some foreign fare

And traveled to the market, where

He purchased a cart, painted yellow and blue.

Bought a cheery bouquet of orchids. A-CHOO!

Sweet chocolate, and a gentle, cream colored mare.

Trembling at the door, the posies gave to her mere.

He rode with Celeste through the sparkling dew-

Covered fields, whistling and tapping his shoe

In time to the clopping, as they neared a country fair,

With colorful tents and flags that fluttered and blew.

He bought her a joli chapeau to wear.

They browsed up and down the rows of wares,

And even heard a speech by the mayor,

Who arrogantly stood when the trumpets blew.

There were so many exciting things to do

And see, at that marvelous country fair,

It was hard to decide which things they should choose.

Celeste, in French, said, “Regardez, Monsieur!”

But lovesick Billy proceeded on… unaware.

His mind full of music and love affairs,

With a squish, behind his cream-colored mare,

His sole became smeared with the sticky doo!

His face grew red, he coughed and blew.

Celeste giggled and batted her eyes of bleu,

And offered her kerchief to wipe his dirty shoe.

She kissed his cheek, his awful fears to subdue

He knows now that someday, somewhere,

Somehow…when he’s convinced her mere,

He’ll marry this mademoiselle, so elegant and fair!

So, now when all is done and due,

if you ever see some eyes of bleu,

In a mademoiselle so lovely and fair,

Regardez where you put your shoe,

For with the bride, somehow, somewhere,

will be her smiling, grande belle mere.

Don't forget to see what Zeke has in his peddler wagon.

(CLICK HERE)

You may win a copy of A Home for Phoebe

if you comment on one of the blogs along the way or on my

Facebook Author's Page.

Zeke's Peddler Wagon is Coming!

Zeke the Peddler is rattling down the road. He'll be stopping at blogs every few days throughout the coming weeks. His wagon is full of information about the novel A Home for Phoebe and me (the author).

 A FREE BOOK!

At the end of the month, I will draw a name from all those who comment on the participating blog posts - also anyone who comments on my Facebook Author Page. Let your friends know that Zeke the Peddler is coming your way!

I'm excited! Aren't you?

You never know what Zeke might have in his wagon for you!

The first stop is at my good friend's blog

Patterings. 

Come . . . let's take a road trip with Zeke.

Renewing My Mind

It's been a topsy-turvy year. I tried to hold my boat steady with an even keel, even the storms blew from all directions, but found that I couldn't do it myself. I had to let the Lord take control and He gave me the Spirit's peace in the midst of everything.

 It seems like I've been living from day to day for a long time and not making much progress. That was God's plan, for if I had been teaching or babysitting or working another job, I wouldn't have been free to help my daughter or parents when they needed me most. Things have settled down. I can see "land" on the horizon.

I want to thank you, my readers, for being patient with this blog. I plan to get back into a systematic pattern, but if God has other plans - I've learned my lesson. I'll let Him take control.

Here is my tentative schedule of posts -

Sunday - Gone to Church (with a steeple photos and a verse)
Monday - A memory verse (perhaps a short devotional)
Tuesday - Memoirs (continuing  Bucksport Years)
Wednesday - Photo of the Week (practicing photography)
Thursday - Proverbs Study (devotional of group study)
Friday - Short Story or poetry (peeks at my writing )
Saturday - Polliwog Pages ( children's writing)

Having a weekly deadline keeps me going in a straight line. It will also keep me accountable in my Scripture memory work and Bible study.

I know the new year will have its joys and sorrows. I hope it will include some victories. I do know that whatever happens this year, it's all part of God's perfect plan for me. I will hope I can face each day full of expectation and submission to His will for my life.

Fruit Cakes!

Here is an excerpt from

THE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKE BAKE-OFF GALA

“Good evening. This is Cheri Bing, reporting for WHIP, in Quince Valley, Florida. I am standing outside the Capitol Convention Building, where we are expecting much to be happening here tonight. The Annual Christmas Cake Bake-Off and the State Christmas Gala are being held in the same hall because of a scheduling dilemma.

“Tables are loaded with exquisite displays of culinary creations: a Black Forest Cherry Cake, a Festive Eggnog Cake, an Orange Marmalade Noel Cake, a Chocolate Yule Log, a Jewel Fruit Cake, and even a Coconut Cookie Tree. Band music is filling the air, and dignitaries are arriving by limousines. What a grand event this will be!  . . .

~ ~ ~

The evening is filled with dancing and music and lots of delicious cakes. See what happens when the Annual Cake Bake-Off and the fancy State Christmas Gala are held at the same place.

This story is part of a collection of Christmas stories in

A Box of Christmas Candy,

 the second book of the Country Store Collections.

You can buy this book

 plus A Bag of Bubble Gum

(a book of short stories for children)

for only $10

at Full Sail Books

(or directly from me.)

Also, if you leave a comment here before Dec. 15,

you may win a free copy of A Box of Christmas Candy.