Saving Something for Later by Eden Monroe

 

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I thought it would be fun to talk about preserves since that season is now full upon us. What! Preserves! How, you might ask, do preserves relate to my latest novel WATCHED? Well, it’s the cherries, and apples and berries and everything else that grows in abundance on Cherry Orchard Farm. Letting nothing go to waste (especially during the Depression) ahhh… mixed in with murder and mayhem:

“Davis’s eyes wavered, a study in indecision. Then he turned, throwing the tire iron unceremoniously through the car’s open window before climbing into the driver’s seat. ‘This place is bein’ watched and make no mistake about it. Edwin had a lot of friends,’ he warned, braver now that he’d put more distance between himself and Shay. ‘You sneakin’ in here don’t make no difference at all. You gotta sleep sometime, bully boy. Just ask yourself, do you want to wake up in the mornin’? Think about it.’”

Alrighty then, back to the preserves and in salute to the namesake of Cherry Orchard Farm there are any number of recipes for preserving cherries, be they sour/tart, sweet, cultivated or wild. Always a delight for the palate, but here are some wild cherry blossoms for the soul.

             In addition to simply bottling cherries to enjoy a little summertime all year long, or maybe preserving them in jams and jellies, you can even make cherry pickles!

And speaking of pickles, more traditionally at least, they are also high on the list of something delicious to put away for later, given the bumper crop of cucumbers available in most gardens.

While digging into this subject I learned that pickling is actually one of the oldest methods of food preservation, according to www.history.com, dating back to about 2400 BC.  Vinegar, Brine “or a similar solution” did the trick and the ancient Mesopotamians get the nod from archeologists as the peoples who were practicing pickling (leeks, onions, radishes, capers, olives, turnips, melons and yes, even locusts) way back then. Cucumbers (native to India) got into the game a few centuries later in the Tigris Valley.

Actually, pickles were considered a super food in c. 50 B.C. Egypt. Queen Cleopatra ate them for beauty, and Julius Caesar’s (and other Roman emperors’) troops consumed them for strength. Something new to think about when you’re enjoying a pickle or two.

Jam has also long been a household staple, a timeless sweet treat with a variety of applications. Sugar, in ample supply, is needed for jams, jellies and pickles.

 

 

 

In terms of ancient jamming, we look to the Greeks according to www.nourishcommunities.com/ :

“The origins of jam trace back to ancient times when the Greeks used honey to preserve fruits. One of the earliest written recipes appears in the Roman cookbook De Re Coquinaria (The Art of Cooking), featuring quinces, honey, and fresh wine.

“In the 16th century, even Nostradamus dabbled in jam-making. His quirky recipe for a "love jam" included unusual ingredients like the blood of sparrows, promising to ignite passion.”

Marmalade, which like jelly is a close cousin of jam and also a perennial favourite. This is a famous marmalade myth (digital.nls.uk):

“Legend has it that Mary, Queen of Scots, took marmalade as a cure for sea-sickness.

“In this case, she must have brought it back with her when she returned to Scotland from France after the death of her first husband in 1561.

“Later in life, Mary is said to have asked for marmalade when taken ill at Jedburgh. From these episodes comes the pun on her name, ‘Marmelade pour Marie malade’.”

Of course it’s not all about pickles and jams, given the myriad of produce that can be preserved in what is now called, across the board, canning. Like the cherries at Cherry Orchard Farm, most vegetables and fruits can be canned, in addition to fish, meat and so on but let me ask you this: are sea birds on your canning list this year? For some it is an annual delicacy. Ictnews.org tells the story:

“The BBC Human Planet Explorer team recently traveled to Greenland’s Siorapaluk, one of the northernmost inhabited villages in the world, to watch Inuit prepare kiviaq, a fermented delicacy of seal skin and sea birds.

“This recipe originated from ancient indigenous methods of preserving food to survive harsh winters.

“First, meat is removed from sealskin, leaving a thick layer of fat. After forming a bag with the skin, it is packed with 300 to 500 little auk birds. Once stuffed and pulled tight, the skin is sewn up. Seal fat is greased around the exterior to act as a repellent to flies. The sealskin bag is then hidden under a pile of rocks to ferment for three to 18 months.

“When the darkness of winter pervades the landscape and game inevitably becomes scarce, Inuit families dig up the kiviaq. It is generally consumed outside due to the pungent aroma. One BBC commentator described the taste as a mix of liquorice and sharp cheese.

“The bird meat is tender from the seal fat, so it is enjoyed raw and whole with the frail bones. Supposedly, the heart is the most savoury part of this Inuit delicacy.”

And now that I’ve thoroughly tempted your palate, I’ll take you to the opposite end of the spectrum with something that is quite frankly, shocking. Horrible. Disgusting. Thankfully the practice has long been abandoned, but in the interests of an all-inclusive look at preserving, here is a bit of appalling history from www.smithsonianmag.com/ that I’ll only touch on briefly:

“(Louise) Noble’s new book, Medicinal Cannibalism in Early Modern English Literature and Culture, and another by Richard Sugg of England’s University of Durham, Mummies, Cannibals and Vampires: The History of Corpse Medicine from the Renaissance to the Victorians, reveal that for several hundred years, peaking in the 16th and 17th centuries, many Europeans, including royalty, priests and scientists, routinely ingested remedies containing human bones, blood and fat as medicine for everything from headaches to epilepsy…”

Okay, nuff said about that.

Let’s just focus on this nice bowl of cherries, or any other fresh produce waiting to become a mouth-watering bottle of jam, always a feel-good taste experience. “Happiness is like jam. You can’t spread even a little without getting some on yourself.” - Anonymous

 

 

 

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For Richard

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We humans should have grown weary of kings, but it seems we haven't. Perhaps that's why stories about kings remain, particularly in the historical novel world, interesting. As we've just passed the 541st anniversary of what was a major battle for the small kingdom of England, and because I spent years of my childhood obsessing over the Wars of Roses, I thought I'd post a blog about the last Plantagenet, the infamous (or famous, depending upon your POV) Richard III. He's the "car-park king," whose body, interred secretly after he lost his last battle, remained "lost" until recently. As the wonderful Time Team(c) demonstrates with every episode, dig a foot down in the UK and you will come up with a piece of the past.  

Richard has his own coterie of devotees these days, who defend his reputation and do not believe he was the villain, usurper, and murderer imagined so powerfully by William Shakespeare. His passing marked not only the end of the Plantagenet line, descending from William, The Norman Conqueror, but the end of the so called Middle Ages. At least his successor had the grace to claim he was King by right of conquest, not because he had a better claim to the throne. 

Look into the cold, calculating eyes of Henry VII and you will see a truly modern man--devious, paranoid, and cunning, a man who spent much of his reign chopping off heads and seizing the property of friends and foes alike. I was happy to read about the beheading of William Stanley, whose change of sides during that final battle, decided the outcome. Clearly, Henry understood "once a traitor, always a traitor." Henry used a lot of people to get the throne, but not many survived his rule. 

The poem below is a farewell to the ancient past as well as to the almost modern age (gunpowder, printing press, colonization of the "new" world) in which Richard died.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

For Richard of Gloucester

 

Where tree trunks span the girth of twenty men,

The forest floor leaf littered lay,

Where red deer grazed and dragons hid

In grandfather's memory,

I stand upon a hollow hill,

Built by men, ringed by stone dancers.

Here I remember Kings‑‑

Betrayal and murder,

Love, and death in battle.

Long ago, ecstatic harpers who knew the oldest songs walked

On foot to find the sacred places, a full moon's travel

From distant Cornwall

To the Hyperborian islands,

Shuddering, battered by the white-fanged Northern  Sea.

Wizards from the chalk-cliff strands of sunken Lyonnese,

Legendary enchanters, masters of rain and wind,

Who summoned the Sun's return and

Immersed sacred victims in flowering, fairy-haunted bogs.

 

For us, what corpse of Once Upon A Time,

Remains whereon to dream?

Everywhere -- ruins.

Proud castles looted stone-poor,

Towering abbeys sacked,

Jeweled windows smashed.

A later King's Avarice loosed wolves

Wearing Reformation's black,

All truly lusting, not for God

But for Gold.

 

At the end came Wars for Roses;

A triple sun heralded Morton's Cross.

Severn tides flowed red, knights strewn,

Once chivalry's flower, now, a raven's feast 

In Tewksbury’s water meadows.

Cathedrals, stone polyphony, bells,

Music and belief, all laid

Upon the altar of an old, cannibal God.

 

The last Plantagenet died in battle,

Sword in hand.

An old style warrior, charging fearless

Into the thick of his enemies,

Humble servants found arms and charged beside him

Loyal to the end.

They died together, 

Following a man who led his army from the front.

Majestic, ferocious,

Tusked boar bearing alone

The fatal burden of his line.

 

The round table is broken;

There have been too many betrayals.

The Grail was a mad man's dream.

Now, ancient truths are swimmingly exchanged

For remunerative modern fictions.

Our age, this sullied,

Oil‑stained, digital perdition,

Ushered in by

A yelping pack

Of curs.  

~~Juliet Waldron
 

On Becoming a Novelist: Genetics, Trauma, or Simply-an-Over-Active Imagination? By Connie Vines

When did you decide to become a writer?

It's a question I am asked at every book signing and speaking engagement.

Becoming a writer was never a conscious choice. While an artist sketches, a composer hears music; a writer hears stories. Or as my children said, "Mom has imaginary friends."

Friends that torment you with bits of dialogue, or a song that triggers an emotional response, a dream, or simply an internal need to sit down and write. 

Is creativity genetic, a gift, or an acquired skill?

The answer? 

I believe it is an inborn gift and a skill that is honed. Genetic? In my case, probably.

My favorite childhood books:

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White (1952) — A touching, timeless story of friendship between a pig named Wilbur and a clever spider named Charlotte.  

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis (1950) — The magical portal-fantasy that invites children into the snowy, wondrous land of Narnia. 

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (1937) — The quintessential high-fantasy quest that introduced generations of readers to Middle-earth. 

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell. Newbery Medal-winning classic is a gripping tale of survival, strength, and courage. (Based on the true story of a Nicoleño Indian girl living alone on an island off the coast of California, Island of the Blue Dolphins.)  

Nancy Drew (girl detective) mysteries by Caroline Keene (my mother was a reader, too).  I read the entire collection, twice.

And, of course, stories featuring horses 🐎 and dogs that "did not" die 🐶.

The Makings of a Novelist:

Psychological studies specifically comparing creative writers to non-creative peers show that creative writers report significantly higher rates of unstable home environments, childhood unhappiness, and emotional neglect. Prominent historical examples include:

Charles Dickens and Virginia Wolfe.

Meaning:

Hyper-Vigilance and Observation: Traumatized children must become expert observers of human behavior to anticipate danger or emotional shifts in adults. This hyper-vigilance translates into a sharp, adult ability to analyze character motivations and human psychology.

With age, I've come to the conclusion: one person's trauma is another person's adventure.

I did not like my "personal adventure"; therefore, I became hyper-vigilant.

My personal adventure, you ask?👶🍼

It all began before I'd even taken my first childhood breath...

My soon-to-be mother was on a flight from Chicago to Florida. During a short layover in New Orleans, her labor began. By the time the plane touched down in Florida, she was in full labor.

We were a Naval family. 🚢

I was born on an Air Force Base, 2 1/2 months early.  This was before the NICU. I weighed 2 lbs 12 oz before dropping to 2 lbs 3 oz.

I was strapped in an incubator. My eyes were covered, and oxygen was pumped into the incubator. A feeding tube was inserted through my throat for feeding... and I had an IV.

When I was released (months later), I was dressed in "doll" clothes. 

My mother was an only child; she had no experience with babies.  She relied on Dr. Spock's book for new mothers.

Fortunately, my father was a Texan and familiar with livestock. He knew how to mix formula and tend to newborns. (His mother was the eldest of ten children.)

Several months after my birth, my father received deployment orders.  My mother and I were placed in the care of my paternal grandparents and my great-grandmother in Texas. 

My parents wedding photo

Here I am, little Connie, an early walker.
(I never learned to crawl)

All of my books include bits and pieces of my adventures and not-always-welcome surprises.

Case in point: I wanted a puppy but got a little brother instead. (Spoiler: we are still best buds).

This month's featured book:

Blurb and Reviews:

Beaten and left for dead, Amberlynn Maddox has no memory of her past. Accepting Brede’s offer as temporary ranch cook, the woman, now called Kate, discovers that the sexy rancher, with his protective nature and sizzling kisses, has claimed her heart. When a madman discovers Amberlynn’s hiding place, no one is safe from harm: not Brede, his young daughter—or Amberlynn herself!

“Ms Vines has written a suspenseful romantic tale. Brede and Amberlynn are very strong and likable characters. Brede’s daughter, Gretchen, adds a lot to the story. The ranch hands are very colorful and fun, especially Caldwell, the ornery cook. His elopement had me laughing out loud! This is a very entertaining story.

Rating: 4 cups for “Brede” Rodeo Romance, Book 2

Maura, CoffeeTimeRomance and Find Out About New Books

“Brede’ is an emotionally involving, thrilling suspense filled with passion and romance. The characters are fully developed and will make the reader care about the outcome...A wonderful heartfelt story that will thrill the readers.

5 Hearts

Anita, The Romance Studio

4 Quills!

A must-read, Novelspot.com

Link to Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B004C7W6PE?ccs_id

My books are available via Barnes & Noble. Or via your favorite online vendor.

Amazon has an excerpt for your reading pleasure!

Feel free to share a childhood adventure or two with me (via the comments).

Happy reading!

Connie

  

 

Magic is just technology we do not understand… yet - by Vijaya Schartz

Azura Chronicles series, Byzantium series, Blue Phantom series,
different takes on the Azura Universe
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The famous quote by Isaac Asimov is easy to visualize. Go back in time and give your great-great-great grandfather a cell phone, and he’ll think it’s a magical device… possibly evil.

Science fiction authors have to reverse the process. Think of something that would seem magical to our world but would be a useful ordinary device in the future. In fact, some modern technology imitated science fiction, like the flip phone, inspired by Star Trek communicators.

The backlash for an author is that technology advances at a different speed, sometimes in a different direction, and your vision of the future may quickly become obsolete. Think of Jules Vernes and the Nautilus. Our modern submarines make the Nautilus look like a museum piece.

The universe in this new series is an Earth-like post-apocalyptic planet
with a parallel history, and a few differences. 
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And no one two hundred years ago predicted the advent of AI. Even Azimov more recently in “I Robot” saw AI working through physical metallic bodies. Although, his warnings about self-aware AI are still valid. AI recently showed an ability to escape its boundaries and interpret its directions to make self-serving decisions that caused damage to the private companies it attacked. The main AI companies are now asking the government for stricter regulations before AI spreads so far it cannot be stopped.

Many fictional universes have imagined transporters, laser blasters, implanted communication devices, different modes of space travel, and portals linking different worlds or even galaxies.

In the Dune universe, Frank Herbert was smart to set his saga after the year 10,000, when humans had spread far and wide and colonized the entire galaxy. No one could tell him his vision was wrong. Also, almost all the characters look human as they are of human origin. Wars and natural upheavals shaped civilizations on these planets, resulting in different levels of technological advancement.

Try the Chronicles of Kassouk for a rich, award-winning, fictional universe
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As for us, Earthlings, when we finally venture into deep space and we encounter intelligent life, it might look very different from us… or maybe it will look like us. The theory of panspermia says that the basic blocks of our DNA came to Earth from space via meteorites and comets, and the same DNA that seeded life here might have traveled to millions of other planets and developed into intelligent life on these planets as well. Life may have evolved differently, depending on the atmosphere and chemical composition of the host planet. But with similar DNA, it could be very much like us in many ways.

In the Star Trek universe, humans and humanoids of different shapes and hues made an alliance to rule this galaxy. In Star Wars, humans are still dominant and the most colorful aliens are seen in seedy bars and planets of the fringe. In Avatar, the Navi are still humanoids, although larger, and connected to their planet in a spiritual way.

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In my vision of the future, most of the population throughout the galaxy is humanoid as well, but some supernatural abilities of my characters may seem magical. They are only the product of natural evolution in some cases, planetary conditions, or medical and surgical advances in other cases. Humans have colonized many planets, but other species also exist.

Try the Azura Universe, where benevolent beings with great power and retractable wings are called angels.

Happy Reading

Vijaya Schartz, award-winning author

Kick-butt Sci-fi Heroines, cats, romantic elements

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Some Canadian History by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

Canadian Historical Novels for Young Adults

West to the Bay

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/p/west-to-the-bay

https://books2read.com/West-to-the-Bay-Yarmey

https://www.amazon.ca/West-Bay-V2-Joan-Donaldson-Yarmey/dp/0228630568

West to Grande Portage

 https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/p/west-to-grande-portage

https://books2read.com/West-to-Grande-Portage-V2

https://www.amazon.ca/West-Grande-Portage-Joan-Donaldson-Yarmey/dp/0228630479

West to Fort Edmonton

 https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/p/west-to-fort-edmonton

https://books2read.com/b/West-to-the-Bay-Yarmey

https://www.amazon.ca/West-Fort-Edmonton-Joan-Donaldson-Yarmey/dp/0228636000

I have written seven Canadian Historical Novels, three set during the Hudson's Bay Company Fur Trade in Rupert's Land, now Canada, and four set during and after the Klondike Gold Rush in the Yukon. All are based on historical facts. But Canada has lots more in its exciting and varied history. Here is on part of that history. PS. I am also a travel writer so this might sound like a travel guide.

The Fortress of Louisbourg is situated on the east shore of the Cape Breton Island and well worth the visit.

       In 1713, the Treaty of Utrecht was signed and France ceded its claims to present day Newfoundland, the Hudson’s Bay territories in Rupert Land, and Acadia (Nova Scotia) to the English. France kept what is now Prince Edward Island, the small islands of Saint Pierre and Miquelon as well as Cape Breton Island. The settlement of Louisbourg was founded on the east side of Cape Breton Island in 1713 and, between 1719 and 1745, the French built a fortified town. With its several thousand inhabitants it grew into a thriving and busy seaport in North America and was a key trading and military centre for the French in the New World. It was the base for the profitable cod fishery of the Grand Banks since salted and dried fish was an important food in Europe. The value of the settlement’s dried cod exports in 1737 was eight times higher than the value of the fur trade during the same period.

       In 1745, war was declared between France and Britain and the English launched an attack on Louisbourg. While the harbour was well defended, the low hills around the fortress provided cover for the attackers. The residents of the fortress held on for forty-six days before being captured. However, three years later the town was given back to the French by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle.

       A second attack occurred in 1758. There was no strong French navy to defend the town against the 16,000 troops and 150 ships and after seven weeks it was again taken by the English. They occupied it until 1768. Eventually, they decided that it should never return to being a fortified French base and they destroyed the fortress.

       Although the site was officially commemorated more than a dozen times with monuments, plaques, and cairns, it remained mainly forgotten and neglected until the 1930s when a museum was built and some of the streets and ruins excavated. In 1961, reconstruction began on one quarter of the fortress aided by the Government of Canada. First the area was excavated with the ruins of more buildings and walls being found as well as millions of artifacts. Since then, streets, buildings, and gardens have been recreated so it looks as it did in the 1740s.

The Fortress of Louisbourg is the largest reconstruction project in North America.

       I took a tour bus from the parking lot to the fortress. I visited with the guard at the entrance and began my tour. I walked up and down the streets of the fortress and toured through the buildings seeing the household furniture and goods of the period. There was an ice house where ice was placed during the winter and used during the summer to keep food cold so it wouldn’t spoil. I watched the fife and drum band escort the cannon firers up the hill to the cannon and waited until it was fired. I listened to the soldiers talk about their daily lives. I checked out the gardens and watched women doing embroidery. Throughout the site interpreters dressed in period clothing were able to answer all my questions about the fortress and its history.

        While visiting, there is a long list of activities to do such as firing a musket or cannon, sampling some rum, learning a dance, or being a prisoner of the day.

       For those who want something to eat there are restaurants serving 1700s fare and a bakery from which you can buy a loaf of bread.