The ToiBox of Serials 1.2: Heart of the Golden Stag

Over on my personal blog, The ToiBox of Words, I’ve experimented with short fiction quite a bit. I’ve entered many blog writing contests and sometimes, just played around with it. In most cases, I’ve found myself expanding the stories I started on my blog and turning them into something more. All the stories in this series will be a product of what I started on my blog and then later added to in private. I will be sharing these stories in parts and encourage readers to leave positive or critical feedback (rude comments will be deleted). Perhaps, one day I’ll publish another personal anthology with these. Enjoy.

Side note: This story has never actually appeared on the ToiBox blog but was derived from a contest I entered and did not win. Still, the submission process was a good learning experience for me. This story is a retelling/reimagining with a twist. 

Heart of the Golden Stag, part 2

Read part 1 here.

The giggles and snaps of children playing in the alley below jolted Jamie’s body forward as dream and reality collided. Jamie rushed to the window, heart pounding and sweat dripping from her bushy unkempt brow. Below, little boys kicked a can back and forth between them as Jamie fought back tears. What a sad and stupid girl I can be sometimes. Shrugging her shoulders, she reached into the worn pockets of her men’s trousers to pull out a coin.

Tossing it down to the boys below, she called out in a gruff, “Bread and tea, young ones.”

The smaller of the two boys caught the coin, as usual, and then pulled the other along before replying, “Right away, Mr. Jaime. Be up soon.”

With the boys off to fetch her breakfast, Jamie quickly attended to her daily costuming. First, a few snips of hair along her forehead and at the nape of her neck. Then, a quick wash followed by fresh linen wraps to bind her breasts.

After chatting with the boys over tea, Jamie went to polishing her shoes with the intention of mulling over the day’s objectives. She’d lined up three marks the day before and was due for a good payday, yet her mind kept drifting back to her childhood. With her seventeenth birthday approaching, Jamie was plagued by nightmares and daydreams of the day she left home to become a boy.

She and her twin brother were turning twelve. Her older sister was a weeping doll, all dressed and made-up, in the corner sobbing through handkerchiefs as her stern and wrinkled betrothed pressed his hands upon her shoulder in mock-sympathy. Jamie watched the spectacle with dread, knowing that would be her fate upon her fifteenth birthday while her brother sniggered. He’d be heading off to the academy soon, to be educated and learn a trade.

Face warmed by the flickering candles, Jaime kept her eyes closed even after her brother blew out the flames as smoke wrapped around her head. She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and say goodbye to her childhood. From here on, her days would be filled with learning all the ways a wife should keep a husband happy. If that was love, Jamie wanted no part of it, yet she hoped there was more to it. She hoped to find an unconventional man not bound by Northern traditions.

With the snap of her father’s fingers, Jamie popped her eyes open to see him holding tightly onto the belt resting around his waist. Knowing he wouldn’t dare punish her in front of company, and on her birthday no less, Jamie seized the moment and ran into the woods, calling for a game of hide-and-seek. Only, she never hid.

Jamie grabbed the bundle she’d concealed days before and continued to run. She kept running until there was no chance of being able to turn back. 

To be continued...

Heart of the Golden Stag 2018 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas 

Find out more about me, my work, and my inspiration at the following links:

Amazon | Goodreads | The ToiBox of Words | YouTube | See a list of my other posts here.

A travel that wasn't meant to be.

I  am a traveler, and generally, I am going to plan my trips very carefully.
This is because the places I visit are everything but easy.
They are either in conflict areas in Africa or other not tourist
My thirst for knowledge is the driving force that attracts me to those places, and I want to know all the aspects of different cultures in the first person.
I love to ask people that have been living a particular conflict, a critical political period, or other interesting events.
Nevertheless, this time, the situation seems to slip from our hands.
The journey I am going to undertake together with my husband will bring us on the road between Lagos, Nigeria and Accra, Ghana. We will be driving through Benin and Togo stopping for a few days in each country.

The problem was (and still is) obtaining the Visa for Nigeria.
We made the first application for a multiple-entry visa, but we received only a single entry one (for the unrefunded price of the multiple-entry. Oh well, T.I.A. This Is Africa).
Finland doesn't have a Nigerian embassy, so everything was handled by the one located in Sweden. When we explained on the phone that we also needed a re-entry visa, they told us that we could obtain it better at the Nigerian embassy in Ghana.
"You have nothing to worry about," were their final words.
I wish I didn't listen to them.
We waited, and a couple of weeks ago, we contacted the Nigerian embassy in Ghana, explaining our situation and asking to fix already an appointment to get the visa.
Surprise! their answer: "we do not release visas for people who are not Ghanan residents."
PANIC!

Now, we have sent back our passports to the Nigerian Embassy in Sweden, with the request for another visa. We are keeping our finger crossed to have our passports back before the 2nd of August.
If not, we will have two choices:
1) we give up our journey
2) we go to Sweden and get our passports back even without the re-entry visa, and we travel anyway trying to figure out a way to return to Helsinki.
Of course, you can imagine that for us there is no option. We are leaving at any cost.

Besides, this journey is essential for the next paranormal thriller, I am going to write, so  I will never give up a trip. Moreover, I start really to feel a sort of Africa blues, and I need to come back there.
Keep your finger crossed and let's hope for the best!
Hope to see you again...

Cursed Bloodline: Secrets and Lies

Cursed Bloodline

Romantic suspense with historical elements

By Erika M Szabo

EBOOK     PRINT     AUDIO

Is it possible that an ancient curse cast by a powerful witch sixteen-hundred years ago could destroy families in every generation for centuries?

Dark family secrets separated Sofia and Daniel when they were children, but fate brought them together years later.

When Sofia’s brother finds a leather book in his grandmother's secret room that was written in 426 by a shaman, dark memories of their childhood start to surface.

Reading the ancient runes, they learn about their family's curse. If it remains unbroken, the curse will bring tragedy and ruin their lives as it destroyed many of their ancestors' lives. Could they find the way to break the ancient curse?

“This is the curse of an evil deed that incites and must bring forth more evil.” ~Johann Friedrich Von

Prologue

Present day

“Wow!” Sofia blurted as they entered the secret room. “You were right, there are lots of treasures in here.”

“I looked only in this trunk but look at the shelves.”

Sofia walked to the shelves and touched the carved, wooden and stone statues one by one. “Look,” she said, “the Sacred Turul. This wood carving is a masterpiece!”

“Yes, I estimate it to be at least a thousand years old. Look at this horse.” He pointed at the black onyx statue.

“Magnificent!” Sofia marveled.

“We can look at those later,” Jayden mentioned to Sofia. “Let’s see if we can find more writing in the trunk.”

“Okay…” Sofia hesitantly replied. She was having a hard time averting her eyes from rows after rows of statues, jewelry, headdresses adorned with beads, gold chalices and bowls.

Jayden opened the wooden trunk and started taking out the items that were wrapped in leather. He pulled the coverings open which revealed swords, knives, handmade leather shoes, and carefully-wrapped scrolls.

“Jay, look!” Sofia pointed at the inside of the trunk lid. “There’s an envelope and it doesn’t seem old.”

Jayden grabbed the corner of the white envelope but couldn’t pull it away. “It seems to be glued to the top,” he stated as he carefully lifted the corner with a knife and pried it away from the wood without ripping the paper.

As he turned it he saw writing on the envelope. “For Sofia and Jayden,” he read out loud. “It’s Grandma’s handwriting and it’s for us.” He sat down on a box, opened the envelope and pulled out the folded letter. He started reading it out loud.

Dearest Sofia and Jayden,

You’re reading this letter, which means I’m gone. I swore to your mother that I would never tell you about the family curse, but I cannot take it to my grave. Although your mother always strongly believed that it is merely a stupid legend and refused to listen to me, I must let you know somehow. Jayden, your life in danger…

The year 426 in the Carpathian Basin

As they got close to the trees and peeked out, they saw disheveled men sitting on the ground around fires. Their savage laughs, as they were eating and drinking, cut through to their hearts. Elana gasped when she saw the lifeless bodies of her neighbors thrown to the ground. Zala turned to Elana and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if she was ready. Her eyes shone with anger. She nodded and placed an arrow on her bow and pulled the string, aiming at the head of the loudest bandit who seemed to be the horde’s leader.

Zala whispered, “You have lost the most. You have the right to revenge.”

Elana let the arrow fly, and it pierced the bandit’s forehead between his eyes, coming out at the back of his head halfway. His body fell backward, limp and lifeless.

Zala looked at the waiting wolves and motioned them to go forward. The bandits scrambled to their feet in horror as their leader fell, and the wolves attacked them. Zala and Elana started riding around them in circles, aiming and shooting as the men tried to flee. A few slumped to the ground pierced by arrows, others screamed as the wolves chomped at their hands.

Elana spotted the alpha as he clamped his powerful jaw over a man’s wrist and with a jerk of his head, bit the hand off. And then Elana froze when she saw her mirror image looking at her with crazed eyes.

“Tuana!” Elana yelled and urged her horse toward the disheveled young woman.

Tuana turned her horse and kicked its side, urging the horse to a gallop. Within seconds they collided. The horses neighed in terror as the women were thrown off their backs by the impact. Both women jumped to their feet and faced each other. Elana gave out the warriors’ battle cry, raised her sword, and thrust it toward Tuana. Elana’s move was swift, but Tuana was fast as well and leaned out of the way of the deadly blow. As Tuana jumped back, she looked down with terror in her eyes. A gray wolf standing next to her growled and dropped Tuana’s hand on the ground; it was still clutching the sword. The wolf shook the blood from his muzzle, turned, and ran toward the bushes. Tuana stared at her stump as it spurted blood on her legs.

Tuana howled like a wounded animal and then gave out an insane laugh as she held the stump of her arm close to her chest and started backing away. “I curse you and your descendants! Every woman in your bloodline will have a daughter like me who will be thrown away like garbage. The daughters will kill their brothers and leave their sister alive to carry the bloodline. All mothers for eternity will pay for what your mother did to me.” 

Why I Write for Children

Why I Write for Children 

By Darlene Foster

Writing for children is important to me because I want children to develop the same love of books I had as a child. A love that doesn’t fade with time. Children’s books create lifelong readers; readers who eventually buy adult books.

I began my love affair with words many years ago. Some of my fondest memories are being read to as a child, visiting the library, and discovering the ability to read by myself. I still have worn copies of favourite childhood books, such as The Bobbsey Twins, Little Women, Black Beauty and Anne of Green Gables; and revisit these old friends from time to time. Books and children go together like toast and jam, in my opinion. Since I never show up without a book as a gift, my grandchildren call me, The Book Gramma.

It´s not surprising then, that I love to write for children.

While writing for children can be fun, it isn´t easy. It requires removing yourself from the adult world and think like a twenty-first century kid. Fortunately, I like to hang around kids, listen to the words they use, observe the gestures, the looks, the trends. I also enjoy reading current, children’s books to see what sparks the interest of today’s young people. Children notice things adults wouldn’t and could care less about things adults think are important. It’s necessary to get into their head space. And guess what? While I’m writing, I get to be a kid again - and I love it!

The main character in my first book, Amanda in Arabia-The Perfume Flask, is a Canadian girl who wishes for travel and adventure on her twelfth birthday. The next day she gets a ticket to fly to the United Arab Emirates to visit her aunt and uncle. There she has an adventure of a lifetime. One young reader said to me, “I want to know where Amanda will travel to next.”  That motivated me to write Amanda in Spain-The Girl in The Painting. 

I had so much fun writing about Amanda, her travels and escapades that I continued by writing Amanda in England-The Missing Novel.

While doing a presentation at a school, one student asked, “Why doesn´t Amanda stay in Alberta and have an adventure?”

I replied, “That´s a great idea,” and consequently wrote Amanda in Alberta – The Writing on the Stone. 

Kids are always giving me ideas. I often quote things I overhear them say in my stories. They can be so clever too. Often wise beyond their years.

I recall taking the ferry to Vancouver Island one summer weekend. It was packed, mostly with families. I was pleased to see many of the children, and some of the parents, reading books. I knew that those kids would grow up to be readers and most likely read to their children one day. Studies have proven that children who are read to at a very young age, even as babies, are more likely to be successful in school and in life.

I have written two more books in the series, Amanda on the Danube – The Sounds of Music and Amanda in New Mexico – Ghosts in the Wind.  Book seven, Amanda in Holland – Missing in Action is about to be released in September of 2019. I am currently working on book number eight and have ideas for others. I have to keep writing, as my  fans are expecting more of Amanda’s Travels.

Although it is a lot of work, it brings me much joy to write my books as I know these fans will grow up with a love of reading and buy adult books soon. Writers of children’s books help create readers for life. It’s an important occupation and one I am happy to be a small part of.

Children who read, become adults that think.

website www.darlenefoster.ca 

Darlene Foster has always been a dreamer of dreams and a teller of tales. Following her dreams, she’s a well-travelled author of the Amanda Travels series featuring a spunky young girl who finds mystery and adventure everywhere she visits. Darlene divides her time between the west coast of Canada and the Costa Blanca, in Spain where she lives with her husband and entertaining dog, Dot.

A few considerations about positivity

”Never let go of your dreams.”

We might have seen or heard this sentence thousands of times yet, either we are too busy with our everyday life, or we are literally bombed by similar good phrases that we don’t stop and think about the meaning of such a simple statement anymore.

When generally, I need to give my best wishes to someone I love, I generally say:

Shall your destiny fulfill all your dreams, except one.

You might say, why? Why would I ever want that person not to have all her/his dreams fulfilled?

Because dreams are the fuel of our life, the energy that makes up wanting to face the day. They are the light we aim at in our darkest moments, the sparkle in our eyes, the thought that makes us smile, the force that despite the tiredness makes us increase the pace of our run to reach the finish line.

Thinking about it, conceiving a dream is like receiving a pair of wings, and the strongest the desire that attracts us to it, the bigger are the wings we create.

Think about the happiness of grabbing that dream when you achieve it.

Yes, it might even last forever, but we will miss that force; that spark that ignites our run in its direction.

Once we have it, we are at peace, and whether this is absolutely fine, the feeling of aiming at something that seems to be just there, but we can’t reach it quite yet, is fairly addictive.

We are motivated to keep on going just for the sake of that dream.
Now, of course, I am not talking about those dreams of tranquility, stability, economical safety, health. Those are basic requirements for a happy life, not just dreams.

Those are the ones I wish to be fulfilled.

Yet, I wish that little devil of a dream, which is not a question of life or death, rather it’s something even superfluous, will ignite your will and make your life an endless journey where for once you don’t enjoy the end but every single minute of it.

Besides, happiness lies in the wait of an event to happen, rather than the event itself, and the same applies to dreams.

Therefore, if there is something you are aiming to, and it seems you are never reaching it; perhaps that is the dream you need to feel alive to make your morning brighter, and the food tastier, and your darkest moment less dark.

For this reason, I wish you to keep one dream in your drawer, always there at your availability when you need to smile or to be reminded about the prize.

Dean Banks Adventures

Dean Banks Adventures

Lorraine Carey

Everyone has a To Do List—right 

But Dean Banks is just a normal teenager until he moves to Apace Junction in Arizona with his mother and sister to run a dilapidated inn that has a reputation as being haunted.

Take a peek at Dean’s To Do List:

·      Protect the legendary Lost Dutchman Mine in the Superstition Mountains

·      Keep his newfound powers in check as a shape shifter

·      Keep an eye on a mysterious red coyote

·      Catch a badass burglar who robs the family inn

·      Ward off some bullies who try to befriend him

·      Uncover and destroy a secret government laboratory underneath the Superstition Mountains

·      Keep his girlfriend safe from an evil spirit.

But all he really wants to do is ride his dirt bike in the desert.

Follow Dean’s adventures in Mysteries of the Red Coyote Inn and Out of the Ashes.

An excerpt from Out of the Ashes *book 2

Chapter 7- A Dark Discovery~

Dean followed the hawk deeper into the cave and flicked on his flashlight. He could still smell the lingering stench of the gila. As he shined his flashlight along the walls of the cave, he could see deep grooves where a gold vein had been extracted. Faint luminous glows were emitted from the walls, and the ground had some fragments that had been left behind.

Dean picked up one of them; he had never seen this type of gold before. It had a whitish cast to it and set off a weird neon glow. He stuck a piece of it in his pocket and carried it on the path with his hawk buddy flying ahead, signaling him to move on.

Dean entered another tunnel and walked for about half a mile. He felt overheated so he decided to sit down and drink some water. “Ah, I needed that!” His friend circled up ahead as if waiting for him.

Dean held his talisman in his hands as he felt it vibrate. He sensed he was getting a message from spirit as he was in for an unexpected encounter. As he followed the hawk, he found himself at a dead end with a strange doorway off to the left. It was a large iron door, medieval-style with heavy black bars and laden with black iron bolts.

“Okay, now what? I’m supposed to know some magic words to open them?” He noticed the hawk circle his head three times and with a whoosh, it was gone. Dean sat down to make some sense out of this. Let me think, I‘ve been cornered by a giant Gila monster, am aware of pillaging for gold, and have not shifted? What gives, Elders?

He sensed a cool breeze coming from behind him. He turned around and noticed a white glowing apparition, one that he was all too familiar with.

Soon the lady in white materialized. He knew who she was – Aponi; dressed in her usual white flowing dress, the sheer veil covering her face. The breeze again caused the beads and shells that dangled from her dress to click and tingle, like tiny bells.

“Hello, Dean,” she murmured. “I’ve come to warn you that evil is upon you. I’m sure you’ve sensed that yourself. Be on guard, as you will find your enemies are very close at hand now. Remember, all is not what it seems.” She faded out slowly, and then vanished.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Dean called out, but it was too late.

Dean stood up and felt his body overheating again. He could feel the blood course through his veins, making them bulge. He watched the ones in his arms become so defined he resembled the transparent human body models they used in his science class. Soon he could see the muscles in his arms triple in size as they inflated and ripped through his t-shirt. “What the hell? Now I’m the Hulk?”

Enjoy the book trailer~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUkT07p5pfQ&t=11s

 Both books can be found in eBook and print on Amazon.

Partner or Inferior?

Where is the woman's place?

I still hear these opinions, not only from older men but from younger ones as well:

"Women are inferior to men because Eve was made from Adam's ribs, therefore, she belongs to him. Eve doomed humanity by committing a sin which by enticing Adam to eat the apple."

"A woman's brain is incapable of making rational decisions because she can't comprehend to the big picture."

"A woman should focus on raising kids, doing laundry, obey their husbands, and provide clean and comfortable homes for their families."

"We must keep women submissive because with equal rights comes chaos. They need constant reminders that their place is in the home."

"Women don't have the intelligence to make rational decisions because they're too emotional. Men must make decisions for women."

Right! My opinion?
These neanderthals need to hide under their comfy stones and be very, very quiet!
What say you?

We're getting there
Slowly, but with good parenting and setting good examples to our kids, we're getting there.

Example 1:
A salesman calls trying to sell windows. The woman say politely, "Thank you for your call but we're not planning to install new wind..."
​The aggressive salesman rudely cuts her off and says, "Is the man of the house home?"
The woman's blood instantly boils but because she's a gentle person, she doesn't reply and hands the phone to her husband,"This bozo is selling windows and wants to talk to you."
The husband takes the phone and says to the salesman, "Listen! My wife is the financial genius in this house. She said no. Good bye!"

Example 2:
​​​A man visits a couple for the first time and as soon as he's introduced to the attractive wife by the husband, he walks up to her attempting to pinch her face and says, "Aren't you a pretty thing!"
The couple's teenage kids watch the interaction.
The woman takes a step back and shouts, "Out! Don't you ever step into this house again!"
The man looks at the husband who opens the door and says to him, "My wife is my partner and you've disrespected her. get out, or I'll throw you out!"

Example 3:
Father and son sitting on a bench in the park. The boy is around twelve, happily licking his ice-cream.
A statuesque woman walks by and the father says to his son, "Nice piece of ass, huh?"
The boy looks at his father with a disgusted expression on his face and replies, "Dad, she's a person. You're an ass!"

Equal partners

It's about time to teach our sons and daughter that this is not a competition. Neither men or women need to prove who's better, smarter, or stronger.

Biologically and psychologically men and women have similarities and differences as well. The best thing about this is that we complement each other and able to form a great partnership by mutually accepting and respecting each other.

What is your opinion?

Sir E. Robert Smythe and the Lost Detective

Sir E. Robert Smythe and the Lost Detective

Christina Weigand

 

Sir E. Robert Smythe and the Lost Detective

During summer vacation, while Anna and her brother Ben, along with Bridget and her brother, Sam, are participating in the Summer Reading Adventure at the local library, the town council announces they are building low-income housing for the homeless. While the housing is being constructed a tent community has been established on an old soccer field on the other side of a haunted swamp. Sam is upset by this turn of events, but his anger is only beginning.

In the meantime, unbeknownst to them, the girls befriend Zoe, one of the homeless people living in the tents. The girls spend time together tracking down clues supplied by the books they are borrowing from the library that will eventually lead to a prize at the end of the Summer Reading Adventure.

When Bridget and Sam’s grandfather dies in a tragic car accident Sam’s anger increases when it is discovered that Zoe’s father was the drunk driver in the truck that crashed into his grandfather’s car. The family lawyer reveals in the will that the farm and house have been left to the community to build low income housing for the homeless.

Sam’s anger reaches a boiling point and he directs it at Zoe, hatching a plan to get back at the people he thinks are taking away everything he holds dear.

Title Sir E. Robert Smythe and the Lost Detective

Author      Christina Weigand Created by Ricci Moore

Genre        Middle-Grade Fantasy

Release     November 2017

Designer  Charlotte Volnek

Length      95 pages

ISBN         ebook 978-1-77127-961-1 Paperback coming soon

Excerpt

Eleven-year-old Zoe Jones unzipped the 8’ X 10’ tent door that she, her mother and her Labrador puppy lived in, really just slept in. There wasn’t enough room to do anything more than that. She wished they hadn’t had to leave their house at all, but with Daddy gone, there had been no choice. At least they hadn’t moved until school was finished so there was a place to do her schoolwork.

After finishing her breakfast in the large dining tent set up by the town for the homeless people to get a hot meal Zoe walked back to their tent. It was time for her and mom to walk to the bakery where Zoe would spend the day while her mother went to work in the city. The sky was blue, with fluffy light clouds, so that meant no rain today while they walked to town. After entering the tent she kneeled and crawled to her cot to brush her hair and pet the dog in his kennel one more time before they left.

“Momma, how much longer do we have to stay here? It isn’t fun anymore, not like the camping trip we took with Daddy last year. I want to go home,” Zoe said.

The brown and white puppy whined. “Buster doesn’t like being in his kennel so much, and he misses his training sessions,” Zoe said.

“Zoe, you know we aren’t going back home. We can’t let Buster run around while we live here. Now hurry up and finish getting ready. We have to get to the park. I need to catch my bus,” Zoe’s mom said.

Zoe finished brushing her short, red hair. “Do I have to go today? Can’t I just stay here? Buster will watch out for me.”

“No, you can’t stay here by yourself. Mrs. Reilley, the lady at the bakery, will keep an eye on you while I go to work.”

Zoe picked up a bag with library books and gave Buster a dog biscuit. “Maybe I’ll meet someone at the park today.”

“That’s the spirit. Isn’t the Reading Club Kick-off carnival today?” Zoe’s mom asked as they exited their mid-size tent.

Zoe glanced around the homeless camp. It was terrible living here. There were only a couple of children in the fifty tent encampment and they weren’t her age. There was no one to play with. She wrinkled her nose, because in spite of the fact that they were able to use the restrooms and the limited kitchen facilities of the soccer field, the camp still smelled of unwashed bodies and human waste. A garbage dump was set up outside the camp, and the trash was picked up once a week, but that didn’t completely eliminate the smell from fifty families’ trash. Her mother had explained that there were very strict rules for keeping the camp clean, but Zoe didn’t think they were much help. “Yeah, I think so,” Zoe said, answering her mother’s question.

As they walked past Gullies Swamp, Zoe rummaged through her bag. “Oh no, I forgot one of my books. Can we run back and get it?”

“No. If we go back I’ll miss my bus. Can’t you just bring it tomorrow?”

“It’s due today. They’ll fine us. I’ll just run back and get it.”

“Okay, just be careful and don’t talk to anybody. I’ll see you after work. Meet me at the bus stop at 6:00 and we can walk home together. Now you behave yourself with Mrs. Reilley and enjoy the carnival. Don’t eat too many of the baked goods.”

“All right. Love you, mom.” Zoe kissed her mom on the cheek and ran back to the camp.

The book was on her cot in the tent. Picking it up quickly, she headed back to the park. Passing the swamp, she noticed Morton the Morph, the yellow toad-like creature and his small blue pear-shaped panngoes playing on the edge of the swamp. One of the panngoes bounced into the swamp.

“Hey, you guys shouldn’t go in there,” Zoe yelled.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. Just a bunch of panngoes,” Morton answered as more of the creatures bounced into the swamp.

Zoe heard some dogs barking and one of the panngoes squealing. “One of them might be hurt. Shouldn’t you go in there and check on them?” She heard another sound, children talking and laughing. “Oh no, someone’s coming. I have to hide. Mamma doesn’t want me to talk to any strangers.” She glanced around trying to find a spot to hide then looked at the panngoes. She immediately ran to them and straight into the swamp.

One of the bigger ones had fallen in a hole and was calling out for the others to help him. Zoe followed the sound of the crying.

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Hometown Memories

LETCHWORTH STATE PARK 

THE GRAND CANYON OF THE EAST

Jonathan Lee

Jesse Crowden

Peter Anuszkiewicz

Everyone has a favorite place they went to as a child.  For me, Letchworth State Park was paradise! My family only went there for day trips. I do not recall any sojourn that felt like a repeat, for nature always provided new beauty to behold. The light on the water, the colors of the foliage, or even wildlife making an appearance; something made each trip special.

 

Dan Rittenhouse

Eli De'Enn

So, what exactly is Letchworth that makes it stand out? It is a 14,427-acre park (about 17 miles long) located in Eastern Upstate New York. It follows the path of the Genesee River as it travels north to its outlet Lake Ontario near Rochester.  With canyon cliffs as high as 600 feet, it is often referred to as "The Grand Canyon Of The East".  The northern end is marked by Mount Morris Dam which helps thwart the chance of flooding. There are nearly 50 waterfalls located within the park with three major ones (Upper, Middle and Lower Falls) located in the southern end.

Marian Carloni

Phil Conroy

Many tributaries flow into the river and can be found along the various hiking trails. The numerous smaller falls can be found along these tributaries or by following the hiking trails or by kayak or rafting. One of the more well-known ones is Inspiration Falls, which is a ribbon falls with a drop of 350 ft. Unfortunately, its appearance is seasonal, like many of the other smaller ones.

Jeanne Mcnarmara

It has been a very long time, 26 years to be exact,  since I have been able to enjoy an outing there. My sister and I took my husband to NY so he could see where I grew up.  We also felt the need to prove to him that there was country in NY, since he was not convinced by my descriptions.  While there, we went to Letchworth.  Unfortunately, there was a drought at the time and he did not get to experience the full beauty of the falls. 

 

Jack Geising

I feel a connection to the river.  My troubles seem to fade away with the flow.  I can almost feel the gloom being purged from my heart as the water cascades over the falls, the spray on my skin refreshing my soul. 

From the thundering power of the three main falls, to the tinkling of those along the tributaries, the music of nature frees me.

Ryan Yo-nv Schmidt

Ryan Yo-nv Schmidt kindly shared this gorgeous shot and several other pictures of the falls.  I gathered them into a short slide show,  click on the link to enjoy some beautiful views.
https://docs.google.com/presentation









I am thrilled to be able to share these many pictures with you.  They were all provided by members of the Facebook group Letchworth State Park Lovers (https://www.facebook.com/groups/2218333570/) If you like what you see here, be sure to visit them on Facebook, they have many more beautiful scenes to share.  I find the pictures take me back in time and I am able to relive, re-experience this wonderful paradise.

Remember to check out my next piece where I visit Lower and Middle Falls. 

Find Cindy on her:
Blog:
https://cindysvoices.blogspot.com/
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Plants, Birds, and Beavers Grow and Change

Daddy, why is Fido getting old?

Mommy, why can’t I stay a kid forever?

Sometimes kids ask questions that can catch you off guard. Having a talk about the necessity of change and the circle of life can be difficult. That’s why I’ve written my Changes duet, to help open up little minds to understanding the nature of change.

Meant for educational purposes, but still, an enjoyable light and colorful read, Plants and Animals Change Over Time, explains the circle of life in the simplest terms. It follows the life of a seedling and an unhatched egg to full maturity and beyond. You may also want to check out, Land Changes Over Time, to learn how the world is reshaped around us.

Daddy, what is change anyway?

Mommy, does change have to happen to me?

Sometimes kids ask questions that can catch you off guard. Having a talk about the necessity and inevitability of change can be difficult. That’s why I’ve written my Changes duet, to help open up little minds to understanding the nature of change.

Meant for educational purposes, but still an enjoyable light and colorful read, Land Changes Over Time, explores how the world is reshaped around us. It chronicles the results of beavers, worms, and birds moving into an empty meadow. You may also want to check out, Plants and Animals Change Over Time, to learn about the circle of life. 

Plants and Animals Change Over Time Purchase Book Here

Land Changes Over Time Purchase Book Here

Find out more about me, my work, and my inspiration at the following links:

Amazon | Goodreads | The ToiBox of Words | YouTube | See a list of my other posts here.

Recipe for the Inner Child

RECIPE FOR THE INNER CHILD:

CLOUD ANIMALS, TEA PARTIES AND HULAS

Christina Weigand

Several years ago I wrote this article when my youngest daughter was on her way to pre-kindergarten. Now I have an eighteen year old ready to head off to college. With little time to write a new article and an opportunity to reminisce I found this post. With the impending onslaught of family and celebrations I thought it was a good time to remember the message in this post.

A funny, wonderful thing has been surreptitiously happening to me this summer.  I have been rediscovering my inner child, with the help of a four year old and a two year old.  When you have Ana and Andi in your life it becomes impossible to ignore your inner child.  So with God by my side, this summer has become the summer of release for my inner child.

It started innocently enough one early summer evening, while trying to rest from a days hectic activities.  I was craving some hard won privacy.  With so many people living in my house including a 24 year old, 21 year old, 4 year old and 2 year old, besides my husband and I, privacy is a rare commodity.  Before the birth of my four year old we had been on the verge of having an empty nest.  I was almost finished with raising my first three children, graduated from college, and my husband and I were still young and enjoying the freedom that comes with having grown children.

Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay 

 

So now I am laying her in the early evening sun, trying to relax and recover from a hectic day.  Meeting the needs of my two year old granddaughter and four and 21 year old daughters has left me little time for anything including prayer.  Finally I have a few minutes of peace, although I’m not completely alone.  Nearby, two year old, Andi plays in her playhouse.  Soon she wanders off to find her mother.  I breathe a deep sigh, “At last, I am alone.”  The television show in the family room ends and I hear footsteps heading toward the door.  So much for my peace.  Ana, my four year old daughter, comes bursting through the screen door and jumps into my chaise lounge.  “Mommy, look there are clouds in the sky.  I see animals.”  Reluctantly I open one eye.  I don’t see any animals.

“Mommy, look.  There’s a tiger.  No, it’s an elephant.”

My other eye opens.  I still see only white puffy clouds.  Ana pops up and heads off to play with something else and I close my eyes again.

 Ana wanted to look at clouds.  I had let the chance get away.  I had become so self absorbed in recovering from the adult issues of the day and I had refused to let my inner child come out and play with Ana.  During the last 20 years of my life I had fallen easily into the pattern of being an adult and bottling up my inner child, because I had no small children in my life.  I did what comes naturally as your children grow up.  I had grown up along with the kids.  Even when Ana was a newborn I struggled with my inner child.  I was still dealing with the issues of my older children and ensuring that my newborn was healthy and happy, the inner child stayed locked up.

Now that Ana is a little older and Andi is moving into the curious years, my inner child has stepped up the battle.  So as Ana walked away on that summer evening, I opened both of my eyes and looked to the clouds and ended up finding an elephant or two in the clouds.

It’s 10:00 p.m.  Ana should be in bed.  She has a cold and got up early for school this morning.  The uptight adult is talking here.

Image by Janice Brown from Pixabay 

“Quiet, get back, down, down!”  Ana wants to have a tea party.  We have hot soup, spaghetti and chili.  Then we put on an Easter hat and Hawaiian lei and do the hula.  My inner child is happy and Ana is happy.  Plenty of time tomorrow for the uptight adult.  Tonight the inner child will play.

Image by skeeze from Pixabay 

  The whole summer went like this, when I least expected it and needed it most Ana or Andi, would gently awaken the inner child and ask her to come out and play.  There would be tickle fights, cloud watching, tea parties and seeing everyday things through new eyes, where fluffy white clouds become dragons and castles, blankets become tents or ball gowns and mixing bowls become crowns.

Image by Iris Hamelmann from Pixabay 

With the start of fall and pre-kindergarten, I feared losing the magic.  Not so with Ana and Andi.  The new season has only supplied more inspiration to feed the magic.  Last week Ana and I went on a field trip to a local apple orchard.  While there I learned a few things about apples I had never known.  Of course Ana was in heaven as this was a whole new experience for her.  Walking through the gift shop, market and green house, the world became a giant playground.  The toys along with the other merchandise in the gift shop tickled her fancy.  The different animals around the farmyard fed her vivid imagination, especially the very large pig.  Questions like, did he walk and how did he walk on those little legs sprang from her hungry little mind.  Choosing apples and vegetables from the market was an adventure and choosing the right colored mums from the greenhouse bordered on overload, there were so many to choose from.  The word “WOW”, a most wondrous word, was heard coming from her mouth at least a hundred times.  With every new sight it was uttered.

Image by pixel2013 from Pixabay 

Another thing we have taken to doing about once a week since school started, is stopping in a local park on our way home from school and visiting the ducks.  Ana loves to run around the island and see what the ducks are doing.  Today when we stopped we got two bonuses.  The first was a couple men fishing on the island.  It was difficult to contain her excitement and to explain being quiet and patient so the gentlemen could fish.  Once we got past them and found the ducks we got to be observers to the mating ritual of ducks.  The squawking, diving and preening of the male ducks was fascinating to watch.  To Ana the ducks were playing and she wanted to know what they were saying and doing.  Little did she know that what she observed today will lead to the new baby ducks we will see next spring.

With autumn upon us and winter quickly approaching Ana, Andi and I will need to find new outlets for our imaginations, but I’m sure God will continue to provide them for us as Ana and Andi discover His big, wonderful world.

Ana and Andi have taught me and continue daily to remind me what a wonderful precious world God created.  I now look at God’s world through a child’s eyes.  Suddenly the newness and excitement has once again made an appearance in my perceptions.

Jesus tells us, “Let the little children come to me.  Do not shut them off.  The reign of God belongs to such as these.  Trust me when I tell you that whoever does not accept the kingdom of God as a child will not enter into it.” (Luke 18: 16-17, NAB)

It seems to me, all adults need to release their inner children.  The world becomes a much more special place when seen with the eyes of a child. I am so thankful to have Ana and Andi in my life and I feel honored that God has chosen me to share their lives.  So my inner child has escaped and I see the world through new eyes.  Thank you God, and pumpkins, turkeys and snowballs here we come.

Image by annca from Pixabay