September Speculations – Barbara Wackerle Baker

 

https://books2read.com/b/Jillian-of-Banff

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September means seven. I know. I hear you. It’s the ninth month. But remember - the old Roman calendar originally only had ten months. January and February didn’t exist yet. Obviously they hadn’t discovered Alberta or they would have been included.

When they added January and February, none of the old calendar names changed. Yup, it confuses me too. Lets just skip past what the name means and agree that September is the start of autumn in the north part of the earth and the start of spring in the south. 

 

In Canada, kids are back in school. Parents catch their breath. And teachers smile as they survey all the new faces in their classroom. Some even begin the countdown until Thanksgiving long weekend. Retired folk acknowledge the movement of the shiny orange school buses and notice playgrounds are a hub of noise and activity during recess again. 

 

After everyone's on board with their new routines, the season pauses … for a few weeks, days or maybe only a few hours. Some folks believe whatever the weather was on the 1^st day of September indicates what the entire month is going to look like. Just an FYI - it was totally wrong this year.

43 years ago, I got married on the September long weekend. I know, 43 years, how did that happen? So fast? It was a beauty of a fall day. Crunchy leaves. No need for coats, umbrellas, toques ...

  

Two days later we headed out on our honeymoon … in the snow. See what I mean? Mother nature. Alberta. September. Quite a combination.

Signs I relate to the changing of seasons in Calgary are:

• after months of silence, the furnace starts to kick in at 6 AM again
• blue jays stop in and squawk (they’ve been gone all summer)
• robins show up in flocks instead of on their own
• hares develop white blotches

 

• Northern Flickers use their long beaks to aerate the lawn (we really should hire them - every spring and fall they do a thorough job)
• squirrels become more neurotic (seasonal? or maybe they're looking for their stash?)

 

Google, of course, has its own ideas on how to determine when winter will pounce on us:

• mice find ways to get indoors (I have experienced this)
• if hornet or wasp nests seem higher in the trees than normal, it means we’re in for deep snow (how the heck could they know that? And why in the world would we trust hornets or wasps?)
• a narrow orange band between the black ends of a caterpillar means a harsh winter is coming. If the band is brown, it will be a mild winter

 

 

I have no idea what kind of winter these caterpillars are predicting 

• when you pull an onion out of the garden and the skin is tough and/or thick, it’s going to be a cold one
• tucking a chestnut in your pocket wards off arthritis and headaches (nothing weird about that)

What do you notice going on outside as the season changes? Anything to add to the list? 

Regardless what the month has in store for us, enjoy all the beauty September has to offer. And I’ll start taking a jacket with me when I head outdoors. 

 

Baker, Barbara - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

Barbara Baker Author Page Facebook 

 

Summer of Lies by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

What About Me? by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

Jillian of Banff XO — BWL Publishing

A Chance Meeting, a Friendship, and a Life-Changing Phone Call by Naguib Kerba

 A Chance Meeting, Friendship & Life-Changing Call | Naguib Kerba — Naguib Sami Kerba Photography

Creative Insults by J.S. Marlo

 

Wide of the Mark

(Click here to buy)

   

 

  

To buy any of my books, visit

J. S. Marlo's Books

I'm an avid reader, but frequent swearing turns me off. I will not stop reading a good novel if the a character uses the f-word a few times in the right context, but I will put one down, and never pick it up again, if it's the protagonist's favourite adjective. To me, it just shows a lack of depth in the character, and I don't like two-dimensional characters.

Now, if you want to insult someone without swearing at them, you may want to try some of these creative examples:

- You have a unique ability to misunderstand the most simple thing.

- Everyone has the right to be stupid, but you’re abusing the privilege.

- I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.

- The closest you’ll come to a brainstorm is a light drizzle.

- You look smart in pictures.

- Were you dropped a lot as a baby?

- I’m still debating whether you’re the weakest link or the missing link.

- I don't have any crayons to explain this to you.

- If ignorance is bliss, you must be ecstatic at all times.

- Did you sniff a lot of glue as a kid?

- There really is one born every minute.

- You’re completely right, except for everything you just said.

- Your gene pool needs more chlorine.

- I will not have a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent.

- It’s impossible to underestimate you.

- I’ll never forget the day we met, but I'll keep trying.

- You’re not stupid. You just have bad luck thinking.

- You’re like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

- Somewhere, somehow, you are robbing a village of their idiot.

 - Stupidity isn’t a crime. You’re free to go.

- You’re about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

- I’m busy right now, can I ignore you another time?

- It's hard to get the big picture when you have such a small screen.

- Please just tell me you don’t plan to home-school your kids.

- Don’t feel bad. A lot of people have no talent.

I may just use one or two in my next book.

Happy reading!

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Lunch with a Paranormal Investigator by Eileen O'Finlan

 

           Click here for purchase informaiton

           Purchase directly from BWL Publishing

It's not every day I have lunch with a paranormal investigator, but recently I did just that. I am working on my contribution to BWL Publishing's upcoming Paranormal Americana Collection, The Haunting of Blackberry Hill. I've decided that my characters need to call in a paranormal investigator. The only problem is I had no idea what they do or how they do it. As I am a stickler for research and accuracy, I decided the best way to find out was to talk to one. So, I did an online search and was delighted to find a woman living in a nearby town who has been doing investigations for the past 13 years. I contacted her and she agreed to meet with me.

Jo and I clicked almost immediately. That's not surprising considering that I mainly write historical fiction, have a degree in history, have worked in a living history museum, and devour history books both fiction and non-fiction. Jo has a Ph.D. in medieval history, has published a book on medieval Irish history, and is the Chair of the Board of Trustees at her town's library.

One more thing we share is a fascination with the paranormal. Once I told her that The Haunting of Blackberry Hill is based on a house my family lived in when I was very young, she was hooked. We dove right in and talked for at least an hour and a half. It was like we had known each other for years.

Jo gave me some great information on what a paranormal investigator does and what kind of equipment they use. She let me know that she will be doing an investigation for Preservation Worcester at the Salisbury House in Worcester, Massachusetts on September 18th. The house is Preservation Worcester's headquarters. They'd probably like to know with whom they are sharing it. 

She will be using her infrared cameras, EVP (electronic voice phenomena) recorder, and a spirit box. I'm looking forward to seeing her in action, though I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to seeing or hearing any ghosts! In any case, it should be an interesting evening.

 

 

Sing Down Summer: Yacht Rock & Porch Pants

                                    

Soft and slow, the summer winds down. Warm breezes carry the essence of autumn. These last few weeks are always bittersweet. Those cozy "BER" months are on their way. Every season brings its own special something always worth looking forward to, but for now, let's relish end-of-summer days.

Sing Down Summer

Seed heads sway, taking bow after bow for 

    feeding the birds 

        through dry spells,

            soggy spells,

                windy spells,

                    and calm.

    Nature's pantry.

Crisp grass underfoot tells staccato tales of drought

    with each brittle 

         crunch,

              crunch.

    It will survive.

Goldfinches snack greedily on a slow-mo metronome 

    purple-petaled coneflower,

        plucking, 

            cracking, 

                flinging seeds

    Cookie Monster-style.

Ruby-throated hummingbirds swarm,

    and fight,

        and scramble

            for every last 

                drop of nectar.

                    Frenzied orchestra string wings.

They have a long flight ahead.

Long shadows inch their way into our day,

    crowding us from the sun,

        reminding us to 

            settle down,

                simmer down,

Sing down the summer.

I watch it all transpire from the comfort of an iron swing

    sipping coffee or wine

        in my breezy linen porch pants.

Listening to the easy tones of soothing yacht rock

    melodies from my yesteryears.

        LPs. 45s.

            Mixed tapes.

                Burnt CDs.

A little Ambrosia to start things off.

    They know just How Much I Feel.

        Some Bee Gees, Steely Dan, and 

            Jefferson Starship 

                serenade the Winds of Change.

As the sun slips down, a delightful chill

    spurs me 

        to wrap into a ratty zip-up

            And just like that,

                afternoon turns into evening.

I linger longer.

        

Good Things Recipe

    A pinch of Seager. 

        A dash of Don Henley. 

            A handful of Fleetwood

And a Little River Band.

Some one-hit wonders I somehow know

    all the words.

        LP jacket still crisp in my mind.        

            Must sing along

                Must move my body.

                

Brandy, You're A Fine Girl, 

    so says Looking Glass.

Dance with Me, 

    Orleans.

How Sweet It Is, James.

So Come Sail Away with Chris and me

    to Never, Neverland

Believe Loggins and Messina,

    Everything is gonna be alright.

Lean back,

    get your porch pants on,

        revel in these last days of wonder,

            tap a foot,

                and

Sing down the summer.

Sparkslingers                            Nokota Voices                    Echoes of the Nokota