Sunday, September 20, 2026

How do you celebrate birthdays? ...by Sheila Claydon


It's my husband's birthday today and, when asked what he wanted, he said he didn't want anything.  Of course he didn't get away with that because I had already decided that a few of his clothes needed updating! Our children, somewhat at a loss, have opted for a celebratory restaurant meal and a bottle of wine, while grandchildren have sent biscuits and chocolate and messages. 

Why didn't he want anything? At 85 he still has his health, good friends, a close knit family and enough money for a comfortable life, so doesn't want anything else. Having travelled a great deal both for work and, after retirement, for pleasure, he no longer wants the experience of airport queues, long flights and  unfamiliar beds. His pleasure now is a countryside dog walk, an evening with friends or family, a game of cards, sport on TV or a good film. Many of our slightly younger friends are also veering towards this way of thinking even if some of them haven't quite got there yet. A reduced life maybe, but contentment is a priceless gift.

Today has made me think about birthdays however. With a Chinese daughter-in-law and therefore an Eurasian granddaughter, I already knew other cultures celebrated differently. Whereas we give her a birthday card and presents, and help with birthday parties, her Chinese grandparents and other relatives give her red envelopes. These contain crisp new notes and are a symbol of good luck for the year to come. Another Chinese tradition is to slurp down longevity long noodles without breaking them, as a symbol of a long life.

Because of our travels we have also experienced birthday celebrations in other cultures. In Australia small children eat fairy bread. This is white bread spread with butter and topped with coloured sprinkles. Not the healthiest, but greatly enjoyed.

In Denmark the 'cake' is a pastry shaped as a person. It is decorated with candy, icing and liquorice, and known as the cake lady. She comes to a rather traumatic end when the birthday boy/girl decapitates her while the guests all scream at the top of their voices. As the Danes regard their national flag as a symbol of happiness and celebration, cakes, party tables and even front doors are also often festooned with replica flags.

In Mexico there is a long history behind the birthday tradition of splitting the piñata. This is a brightly coloured shape, traditionally seven-sided, but nowadays also made in many different shapes, that is hung up, often on a tree branch but sometimes indoors. Formed variously from cardboard, foil, clay, or papier-mache it is filled with candies, lollipops chocolates and small plastic toys. At the party it is attacked by blindfolded children who take turns to swing at it with a stick. This happens immediately before cutting the cake while guests sing traditional songs. When the piñata splits the contents scatter across the floor and are scooped up by the excited children.

Thailand has a very different take on birthdays, regarding them as a time to give not to receive. Wishing to gather good karma for the coming year they give out alms, buy birds and fish captured for slaughter and release them back into the wild, and also honour their parents with gifts for the sacrifices they have made. They also traditionally wear their birth day colour, which is associated with whichever day of the week they were born.

India is similar in that, with the birthday boy or girl dressed in new clothes, the whole family might visit a temple with offerings of prayers and flowers. Other religious rituals are part of the day, including honouring parents and warding off the evil eye. However, western style birthday cake is also eaten but in a very different way. The first bite is fed directly into the mother or father's mouth by hand. The parents then feed a bite back and this hand-feeding ritual continues with close family and friends.

Unsurprisingly, Italian birthdays are a time of great family celebration. Particularly important is the traditional dessert of a fruit-topped tart or layers of puff pastry with cream. Equally important is the tradition of immediately opening gifts rather than waiting until the end of the party. And then there is the ear pulling, where family and friends pull the birthday person's ear lobe once for every year of their life. Hard on the ear but a wish for a long and prosperous life.

So many different traditions, such different food, and yet I imagine that every small and not so small child experiences the same level of excitement when they wake up on their birthday morning. 

The cover of my book Double Fault does not look very celebratory but with two-year old twins helping celebrate an almost forgotten birthday that culminates in the big showdown that is integral to the happy ending, it's another sort of celebration. Birthdays can be many things. 

Saturday, September 19, 2026

A Wonderful End to Summer - by Bonny Beswick

 

A Wonderful End to Summer 

Writing-On-Stone Provincial Park in SE Alberta 

Available Now! 

While fireworks fill the sky on the last night of The Greatest  

Show on Earth, also known as The Calgary Stampede, a man  

with a past is shot on his front doorstep. Love has many forms,  

but which one led to an innocent man’s death? 

As far as police work goes, Homicide Detective Janice  

Maidstone can’t imagine working with a better partner than  

fellow detective Scott Amble, but there’s a problem. It’s a race  

against time, as one or both of them may soon follow their  

hearts and seek new lives outside of the city. 

Amazon link: https://a.co/d/01fwe4ey 

Follow me on Facebook to stay up to date on locations where you can pick up a signed  copy!*

Available Now! 

The Aquamarine Necklace: A Janice Maidstone Mystery, by Bonny  

Beswick — Books We Love Publishing Inc. 

The Aquamarine Necklace: Beswick, Bonny: 9780228634737: Books - Amazon.ca 

The Last Lazy (?) Days of Summer 

This will be the summer that I went back to my early thirties, when I looked forward to  long weekends and tent camping. Things have changed! I can’t believe how much stuff I  accumulated to go camping. Decades ago, I could fit everything I needed in a back-pack,  and carry it up and down mountains. Now, the stack of gear almost fills my CR-V. It’s a good  thing I don’t have a passenger because they’d share the front seat with my writing stuff,  electronics, my indulgent pillow, and the last-minute groceries. 

My first campsite was at Beauvais Lake Provincial Park in SW Alberta, only a few  minutes from my sister and brother-in-law’s cabin (just in case I needed to bail in the middle  of the night). 

I picked a spot as far from the table (where food smells might be strongest) as  possible. To my relief, the fancy tent mechanism on my Reactive  

3 Second tent https://ca.reactiveoutdoor.com worked like a  

dream.  

The ground was hard and rocky so I had to pull out my  

mallet (sure glad I remembered to pack it) to put tent pegs in the  

ground. I took a chance after checking the forecast and didn’t  

put up a tarp. Good decision because it neither rained nor was  

hot enough to need the shade. 

The Monstabed mattress, tested for a few nights at home on the floor, is incredibly  comfortable, and though it's actually a little too big, pushing out the sides of the tent, I don't 

care! It's height reduces the headroom in the tent, but I don't have to haul myself up off the  ground and my knees are much happier.  

In the good old days, squirming out of a tent, hunched over, wasn’t a problem. But  this new tent has a 6” lip to step over. Great, because it will help prevent bugs from crawling  in, but it’s going to take some practice stepping over it without tripping. I’ll get better, but that  first weekend, I tumbled gracelessly on my face about 40% of the time. 

It took less than 90 minutes to set up camp, from the time I pulled into the campsite,  to when everything was set up (bed made with sheets, blanket and pillow), tablecloth  clamped to the picnic table, fire crackling in the grate, and wine opened. Not bad for my first  effort! 

My second camping experience was at Writing-on-Stone Provincial Park in the  southeastern part of the province. 

August is a toasty time of year in Alberta’s southeastern corner. Unfortunately, my campsite  had very little shade, and I couldn’t make the tarp work to give me more shade. I’ll have to  practice before my next camping trip. 

The night sounds at Beauvais Lake are far different from those at Writing-on-Stone  Provincial Park. The sound of breeze through the towering spruce and fir at Beauvais contrast  with the wind across dry grass and cotton wood trees in the southeastern part of the  province. I tuned my ear for the snuffling of bears in one place, and the slithering of snakes  in the other (yes, I know I likely couldn’t hear a snake!). 

By the way, this is one of the first signs I saw in the park when I drove in. Who knew I'd  pick the time of year when snakes are migrating? YIKES! I know some of you are used to  snakes – maybe even blasé about them, but for me – not so much!

In neither place were there noisy parties or annoying generators running. Instead,  there was the quiet of forest and prairie, happy children tearing around after each other,  people walking dogs, and murmuring voices from neighbouring campsites. 

At Beauvais, large predators – bear and cougar lurked (I didn’t see any of those,  although a moose wandered through the back of the campground one evening.)  

At Writing-on -Stone, there were smaller creatures. At the crack of dawn, twin fawns,  still with faint spots, and a little rock rabbit picked their way through the tall grass behind my  tent. They made for “aww” moments. On the other hand, I got surprised by a rattlesnake on  my walk back from the vault toilets one evening—an “eeek!” event. It was a feisty one – even  from about 8 feet away, it rattled and struck out at me. Alas, since I didn’t want to get close  enough to take a good photo in the low light, you’ll have to take my word for it. 

Since these were my first camping trips in many decades, I thought I may not enjoy it.  I’m thrilled to say, though, that even packing and unpacking gear hasn’t damped my  enthusiasm and I’m already checking out campgrounds and sites for my next outing. 

In between my outdoor experiences was the When Words Collide Festival. This multi genre literary festival is one of the largest in Canada and for good reason. With three days of  amazing lectures, workshops, panel discussions, special Masterclasses, and opportunities  to pitch to agents, there’s something for every stage of writer and every fiction afficionado. 

The Aquamarine Necklace at Author Alley

There was even an opportunity to show off “The Aquamarine Necklace”, the first in  the Janice Maidstone mystery series. It was available on Author Alley in the Merchant Room  at the festival. “What Love Made Us Do” will sit next to it in 2027! 

You can already get your tickets for next year! 

When Words Collide 2027 - Canada's Most Fun Multi-Genre Literary Festival Tickets,  Friday, August 27-Sunday, August 29, 2027 • 9 AM-5 PM | Eventbrite 

*** 

What’s happening with book signings and talks? 

On September 24, I will be doing a talk on the “experience of writing and publishing  “at the Millarville Public Library at 7:00. I’ll have copies of both “The Aquamarine Necklace”  and “What Love Made Us Do” available. 

Here is a list of the book signings I have scheduled for “What Love Made Us Do”. Other  locations will be added as they are confirmed. 

Schedule of Book Signings 

Saturday, Sept 26 1 – 3 PM: Owl’s Nest, Britannia Shopping, 815A 49 Avenue SW, Calgary Saturday, October 10, 1:30 – 3:30 PM: Analog Books, 322 6 Street S., Lethbridge Time and Dates still TBD

November: Found Books and Shop, 206 1st St W, Cochrane 

December: Mountain Goat Books, Farmers' Market West (Greenwich Village), Calgary February 2027: Tuesdays Bookshop, 2462 213 Street Bellevue, Alberta

Summer 2026 is already a blur. Every day had something special to offer and I hope  you felt the same. As much as summer was rewarding, we’re heading into my hands-down  favourite time of year, and I can hardly wait to see what it brings.

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

We saved her, by J.C. Kavanagh

To order your copy of this award-winning series, click on this link: https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

 I'm pretty sure it was a 'her.'

Let me explain.  As regular readers will know, we've been on a year-long sailing adventure to/in/from the Bahamas, returning late July this year. We rented our home while we were away, which meant that all our furniture and belongings were stored in a walled-in section of the basement. Our tenant left in July which meant the house was empty... what better time to have hardwood floors installed, right? So for weeks we've been living on our sailboat while the floor was laid, sanded, sanded again, then stained, then varnished. 

After what felt like an inordinate amount of time (it wasn't), we were told the floors would be dry enough to walk on, but only if we wore socks. Easy enough. We pulled into the driveway and parked outside the garage doors. Immediately, our eardrums were assaulted with the sound of screaming smoke detectors. 

What now?

We hustled to the front door and cautiously unlocked it. The screeching siren sound was enough to wake the dead. God-forbid there was an unmarked grave on our 10-acre property. 

We walked in. No smoke. No scent of burning wood/drywall.

We breathed a sigh of relief. 

Why the sirens? All six of them? Ian shouts over the cacophony, explaining that the smoke detectors are so sensitive that they detect even the finest particulates, which would be the residual wood dust.

So the first conundrum emerges. How to turn off the smoke detectors, all situated on a nine foot ceiling, without damaging the varnished floors? 

We remove our shoes and Ian pulls a broom out of the front hall closet. He tiptoes to the closest detector, reaches up with the non-broom end and depresses the 'off/reset' button. That seemed to work. However, the other five smoke detectors are still screaming like banshees at an Irish wake. 

Ian attends to the next smoke detector, depressing the 'reset' button. That detector becomes silent. 

However, the next four smoke detectors are newer and do not have a 'reset' button. Suddenly, the first two detectors that were turned off, now jump back to life. My eardrums are bulging and I can't hear a word Ian is saying. That's when I discovered I'm not a good lip reader (though I'm pretty sure I saw the 'f' word being used as an adjective and a noun and also a verb).

We open windows and all exterior doors, hoping that the remaining dust would find its way out. After a few ear-splitting minutes, we decided that venting the house with open windows and doors was not working. At least, not quick enough for our eardrums. Another course of action was required. Ian said that each smoke detector had to be physically disconnected from the main electric panel, which meant removing each one from the ceiling. So Ian hauls the eight foot ladder from the basement and, as a protective measure, I place a blanket under it. We disconnect each detector.

Silence.

Then SCREECH!

Enter the second conundrum.

Each detector has a backup battery. They begin chirping once again, lights flashing, sirens screaming.

GOOD GRIEF.

I begin the operation of battery removal, and I might have used the 'f' word a few times myself.

Once again, there is silence.

But wait... what is that panicked, chirping sound?

I hustle from the bedroom to the living room. There, flying across the ceiling, back and forth, squeaking in panic, is a tiny hummingbird. 

The third and final conundrum. What to do? We can't reach the frightened bird as the ceilings are vaulted. I close the front door and open the patio door, enticing the wee bird with a bright red Longo's grocery bag hanging from the door's handle. The bird feeder and hummingbird feeder are in plain sight, at least for me.

We watch helplessly as the poor thing squeaks and flies about in full-blown panic. Finally, the wee bird drops from the ceiling to the top of an upper cupboard. We move the ladder into the kitchen and, using the red shopping bag as a blanket, Ian picks up the stunned bird. He hands the precious creature to me and I bring it out to the front porch.

The poor thing is blinking rapidly but not moving. I'm a bird enthusiast and I 'talk/sing' to the birds every time I bring seed and peanuts to the feeder and sugar water to the hummingbird feeder. So I softly sing my regular bird-song: 

Nana J, 
Nana J, 
Nana J is going to feed you today 
and you are going to eat all day... 
YAY for Nana J!

 Yeah, I know it's a silly ditty but the birds recognize it and fly to the feeder immediately after I feed them. Some will come as I'm pouring the feed in! 

Custom bird feeder designed by Ian

I gently stroke my new feathered friend while singing the little ditty. Is it male or female? The feathers are iridescent green with black edging. The beak is almost half the size of its body!



Now, inspecting this wee bird, I'm curious about hummingbirds. 

Did you know (according to Wikipedia):
  • they are named 'hummingbird' because of the humming sound of their wings during flight
  • their wings flap at a rate between 12 beats per second and 99 beats per second
  • they are the smallest known and smallest living 'avian theropod dinosaur'
  • hummingbirds existed between 42 and 38 million years ago
  • top speed in flight exceeds 15 metres per second (54 km/h; 34 m/hr)
  • courtship flight-dives by males from 30 metres (100 feet) above a female was recorded at 23 metres per second (83 km/hr; 51 m/hr)
  • hummingbirds expend the human equivalent of 150,000 calories per day, estimated to be 10 times the energy consumption by a marathon runner
Finally, how did I know that the bird we saved was a 'she?'

More research... males have a colourful throat patch called a gorget. It's often red or pink or violet or orange. The hummingbird we saved did not have bright colours around the neck - no neck collar. Just vibrant green body feathers. It's a she!

We see this hummingbird daily - she loves the feeder. If it's getting low, she will come to the front porch if we are sitting there, or, hover outside the patio doors as if to say: FEED ME. Oh, and she does have a male friend - he's the one with the ruby red collar.

The Twisted Climb trilogy does not have any hummingbirds in the story-line, but there is a mythical bird in the final book, A Bright Darkness. It's called Gichi Manidoo, an Ojibwe term to describe the eagle that soars above all birds. Gichi Manidoo is considered by the Anishinaabe tribes to be one of the most spiritually significant spirits in all of creation. In A Bright Darkness, Gichi Manidoo once again proves to be a saviour, though this time, it saves... well, I can't really say without giving away the ending! 

Stay safe and make sure you tell the ones you love that you love them.


J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com

www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh 
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Instagram @authorjckavanagh
https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

Amazon in Canada:

https://www.amazon.ca/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=ap_rdr&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Amazon in the U.S.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1772905830&sr=8-1&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Sunday, September 13, 2026

Dolly the Songteller

                                                                   Find me at my publisher

"If you don't like Dolly Parton, do you even have a heart?" Thus begins one review of Dolly Parton's 2020 memoir Songteller. T-shirts now proclaim, "I'm suffering from post Parton depression." 



Stories of this American Original proclaim her business acumen, philanthropy, support of her family and community, 60 year marriage to Carl, movie and TV star status, membership in the Country Music and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, memorable collaborations with everyone from Linda Ronstat and Emmylou Harris (their Trio collaborations are, in my opinion, nothing short of glorious), to Bette Midler, to Kenny Rodgers to Ladysmith Black Mombasa. Her acceptance and advocacy for the marginalized and persecuted have made her a heroine of the Black, Women, LGBTQ+ and Trans communities. 

And of course, there's her kindness toward everyone, and especially children, through her Imagination Library. 

It's very clear that Dolly has read The Little Engine that Could!


How did Dolly want to be remembered? As a writer.

Her stories are in her songs, in the magic of crafting each one from words, and with them enriching the world. So it's to Dolly, my fellow writer, I say, what a privilege it has been to breathe the same air as you in our short time together on Mother Earth. Hail and farewell, sister writer.



Saturday, September 12, 2026

My Amazing Research Trip: Day Four by Susan Calder



Our last full day in Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic, my husband Will and I hiked to Goethe's Lookout Tower. In the first draft of my historical novel-in-progress, The Water Cure, my protagonist Marie and her boyfriend Rado hike to an unnamed viewpoint not far from the tower. Goethe's Lookout turned out to be a shorter distance from town than I'd expected, so in the next draft, I'll have them hike to this Karlovy Vary landmark. 


The tower opened in 1889 and was the inspiration of Princess Stephanie, daughter-in-law of Austrian Emperor Franz Josef. The monument retained her name until the end of World War One, when the new Czechoslovakia distanced itself from its former Habsburg rulers. From the top of the renamed Goethe's Tower, Will and I enjoyed views of the town similar to those seen by Marie and Rado, although the trees have grown higher since my characters were there 112 years ago. 


Will and I headed back down the hill into town. We passed a yellow building that I might use as a model for Rado's boarding house. 

After our pizza lunch, we walked to the train station, Marie's arrival point in Karlovy Vary. I discovered the closest bridge across the Ohře River to the station hadn't been built in 1914, the year of my story. The roundabout walking route of that time would be cumbersome with a suitcase. In my revisions, Marie will take a horse-drawn carriage from the station to her lodgings. 

Train station platform - I like to think this is a spruced-up structure from 1914

I had also placed Rado's favourite pub and the lodgings of two secondary characters near the train station. In my next draft, I'll move them all to the city's commercial area, which will give those characters a shorter walk to their workplaces in the spa zone.   

 Today, the main commercial street is a pleasant pedestrian mall

My research in Karlovy Vary was almost done. Four days earlier, I'd arrived with limited knowledge of the spa town and its history. I left with a wealth of information to make my novel more accurate and vivid. It makes me glad I wrote the first draft of The Water Cure before this research trip. If I hadn't, I might have been too overwhelmed with details and images to find the story.   
       
View from our hotel room - Mill Colonnade at night

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