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

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.

My Amazing Research Trip: Day Four by Susan Calder

 Please visit this link for author information and to read my earlier blog posts in this series

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

September Speculations – Barbara Wackerle Baker

 

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

Barnes and Noble

Amazon

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