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Hanging our Stocking by the Chimney with Care

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My daddy loved Christmas. He loved the tree, the goodies, cards, and giving gifts. Mama loved Christmas, too. Her role was expressed mainly in the kitchen where she started making goodies the day after Thanksgiving, squirreling them away in the pantry until Christmas Eve. If company dropped by before Christmas, as they often did, she served them cookies or date nut bread with coffee. Gift giving is where Daddy excelled the most. Shopping for Mama, usually via his Sears and Roebuck account, was serious business for him. One year he bought her a whole wardrobe. I remember the two-piece outfit, a blue skirt and blue and black plaid jacket. I have a photo of her hugging Daddy with the outfit in her hand. It’s double exposed making it look my Mama had tinsel in her hair. And jewelry; he always gave her jewelry. One year a watch, another a gold ingot pendant. Mama wasn’t the only one he shopped for. I always got a gift picked out by Daddy, even after I was grown and married. That someti...
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I Wasn't Really into Politics

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  I really wasn't into politics for most of my life. What I remember about politics was that Mama believed in voting for the man, not the party. Growing up almost everyone in my hometown were registered Democrat because there was some reason that had to do with voting in the primaries. I don’t know why to this day. But, in my idealistic 18-year-old brain I thought there should be a balance, so I registered Republican. And voted for Nixon! I worked at the poles and embroidered an elephant on my bell-bottomed blue jeans. Daddy defended Nixon through the whole Watergate thing, so I did too. I had no clue what it was all about. I don’t remember Mama voicing an opinion. She didn’t believe in arguing politics. It was forbidden at the dinner table. Fast forward past my young adult self. My husband was a union member and a shop-steward. He helped campaign for Kennedy. Our garage held stacks of yard signs and bumper stickers. He preached that the Democrats were for the working man. I di...
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The Tony Quarry Series by Crime Fiction Writer RJ McCarthy

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My friend RJ McCarthy’s Tony Quarry series of crime fiction novels feature hero Tony Quarry who fights for the underdogs of modern society. What I find refreshing is he manages to do so without guns. His weapon is his body, and no he’s not a super-hero with superpowers like Superman or the Incredible Hulk. Tony Quarry is an expert in martial arts, and even then, he uses those skills only in self-defense. Quarry is an ex-con, who did time for the accidental death of a college student in a barroom brawl. Because of this Quarry not only does not carry a gun he abstains from alcohol. Our hero, Tony Quarry is assisted in solving mysteries and fighting crime by his dog, Russ, a priest, the local sheriff and even in one of the novels an ex-cellmate. McCarthy masterfully creates compelling characters in his writing that keeps the reader turning the pages. RJ McCarthy’s newest addition to the series, Quarry Steps Between , is the fourth in the Tony Quarry / Carolina Mystery crime novel serie...
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Have You encountered a Bigfoot?

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I’ve recently written and published the novel, My Neighbors from the Woods , with a bigfoot theme. In writing the fictional story of Maggie, who discovers she has a family of bigfoot living in the woods adjoining her farm, I spent many hours researching the subject for my book. I’ve learned that in addition to seeing the hairy beast, it often leaves other signs of its presence. Here are the top ten signs that you might have had a close encounter with a bigfoot:   1     You find huge barefoot prints in the mud or the snow. These are probably the most publicized signs of bigfoot. To distinguish a bigfoot footprint from a bear’s we are reminded that bears have claws while bigfoot prints do not have claw marks. The bigfoot print looks like a human foot except its much bigger. Some are reported to be up to 24 inches long and 8 inches wide. 2.      You smelled something so awful you can’t describe it. Some try to describe it as skunk-like but way ...
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My Neighbors from the Woods

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  During the stay-at-home months of 2020 I began writing my recently released novel, My Neighbors from the Woods. The story is inspired by one I read decades ago when I first started reading bigfoot stories on the Internet. It was about a woman who lived somewhere in the mountains and claimed to have developed a friendship with a family of bigfoot. I could not find that particular story when I began to work on my book. But it seems there are many similar stories making the rounds online and on YouTube channels. My “research” involved listening to many such channels and following social media bigfoot pages.   But my interest in the hairy man, aka bigfoot, started a long time ago, when I was much younger. What piqued my interest were stories I first heard from my daddy. He listened to ‘talk radio” at night and he’d retell the stories he heard over breakfast in the mornings. That had to have been in the late 50s. I also remember Daddy talking about a wild man that lived bac...
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Covid: Accentuating the Postive

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It’s been a year since we got the warning about a deadly virus spreading throughout the world. We were told to stay home, wash our hands, keep our distance from one another, and then to wear a mask whenever we were forced to go out for food, medical needs, and other necessary reasons. It was scary. But as time went on, we humans learned to adapt and carry on with life as best and safely as we could. We found ways to be with family and friends outdoors and to give air-hugs. Shopping online with grocery delivery and curb-side pickup was offered by most stores. Since I have lived alone for almost thirty years, I had an advantage in the adjustment curve. It all started in March 2020. It was soon warm enough to host outdoor visits from family and friends. Then with my writers group we set up a Facebook page for sharing our writing for critique, while gathering at a nearby state park to enjoy some social time every few weeks. Looking back over the past year I realized I could list qui...
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The Execution of Penny

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 My paternal grandparents, Gaga and Pom Pom, lived on a little farm in Athens. Pennsylvania. Pom Pom raised chickens and had a big garden. We visited every summer for our vacation. The chickens were especially fascinating for me, an animal lover from the get-go. Gaga let me help her collect eggs, which was a big adventure to me. Sometimes a hen would still be sitting on her nest and I would call Gaga for help. I was afraid of being pecked. I also followed my grandfather to the garden to “help.” He was especially proud of his tomatoes, but my favorite thing was helping pick the raspberries he grew. He’d laugh and tell me not to eat too many or their wouldn’t be enough for Gaga’s raspberry cobbler. One summer I took a fancy to a little hen. I don’t know why? I asked Pom Pom if I could have her for a pet. He said yes and I was thrilled. I named her Penny, probably from the story Henny Penny. I was less thrilled to have to leave her behind when we went home. We lived in town and ...
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