President Trump and the Bee's Knees by Karla Stover

 https://bookswelove.net/stover-karla/

     For those interested, i.e. when inquiring minds want to know, Wikipedia has a list of  animals who lived at the Whitehouse during the various administrations. Lots of horses, dogs and cats, of course, but others that are more unexpected, such as Thomas Jefferson's sheep, two grizzly bear cubs and a number of mockingbirds. James Madison, Ulysses S. Grant, and Andrew Jackson had parrots while John Quincy Adams had silkworms and alligators. A pair of elephants sent to James Buchanan arrived when Abraham Lincoln was in office and he politely refused them. Interestingly enough, Lincoln also had a dog which was assassinated shortly after he was. Grover Cleveland was gifted goldfish. The first Siamese cat in the United States was given to Rutherford B. Hayes. George W. Bush had a longhorn steer and the list goes on and on. Which brings us to Donald Trump. He had no pets during his first term but now, thanks to the Obamas, he is in charge of the White House bees. 

    It all started when Michelle Obama decided to create a kitchen garden. Its purposes: to provide fresh produce to the Obamas and Whitehouse guests, to educate children about healthy eating, and to encourage people to eat healthy, locally-grown food. 

    White House vegetable gardens go way back, though the most unique may have been Hillary Clinton's which was constructed on the White House roof. More traditionally, the Obamas and a group of 5th graders broke ground on a portion of the south lawn in 2009. Of course, what's a vegetable garden (or any other kind of garden, for that matter) without bees to pollinate it? 

    Bring on a bee keeper. 

    According to bee keeper Charlie Brandts, "on a stretch of grass where helicopters, where thousands of children enjoyed Easter egg hunts, and where a Portuguese Water Dog frolicked daily, there were concerns." The job had to be as error-free as possible, requiring coordination with the National Park Service gardeners, the Secret Service and the Office of Communications. Eventually, things fell into place and Brandts came up with an easy device for quickly closing the hives' front door, designed for use by any of the staff, if necessary. He also designed and placed a special ventilation box on the hive so the bees wouldn't become overheated during those times when they would be closed in.

    And all the careful work paid off. "It is not unusual for the single hive on the South Lawn to yield 200 pounds of honey a year. This harvest has reached wounded warriors, school kids, the President’s table, the G-20, and even the Pope. When the Make-A-Wish kids visit the Oval Office, they get some honey. Hundreds of school kids who visit the garden (including the children of White House staff on “Bring Your Kids to Work Day”), as well as participants in the Easter Egg Roll, have received information on bees and beekeeping, as well as the clear personal message that bees are important wherever you find people and food."

    The president has duties that get little recognition: directing the minting of commemorative coins; controlling the national Christmas tree; naming national monuments and approving all states' flags and seals; (I live in Washington State where the legislature wants a new flag. Washington State is extremely liberal so I say, "Good luck with that.) And serving as the honorary head of the Boy Scouts. And, thanks to the Obamas, managing the White House bees. Possibly another sticky situation for the president to be in.

Signs of Spring and Birthday Musings - Barbara Baker

 

This year, the official first day of spring happens on March 19^th when the Earth's axis and its orbit line up so that both hemispheres get an equal amount of sunlight.

Albertans experienced a taste of spring during the last two weeks of January and then again, the last two weeks of February when temperatures broke records and people ran around in shorts. Leslie Horton, meteorologist on Calgary Global News, coined the phrase of those phenomena as fake spring. Yup, Mother Nature loves to play Guess What Season It Is.

My first true signs of spring appeared on March 6th. Fuzzy pussy willows. A robin singing from the top of a spruce tree. But I'm still waiting to spot my favourite, the first crocus bloom.  

     

My birthday follows the arrival of spring, and I typically spend it on the ski hill. But this year, the snowfall has been dismal so it’s hard to say what Old Mother Nature will have in store for me.

 

2022 Spring Ski Day in Fernie 

Thinking about my birthday made me wonder when birthdays came to be such a big deal. Down the Google rabbit hole I go.

• Birthdays started with the Egyptians. Scholars state the earliest mention of a birthday was around 3,000 B.C.E. and was in reference to a Pharaoh's birthday. Further study implies this was not the day they were born, but rather the day they became a god or goddess. I’m not a goddess, but that will not stop me from enjoying my day.

• In 100 BC ancient Romans celebrated birthdays for male friends and male family members. It was acknowledged as the birth of the common ‘man’ and enthusiastic festivities marked the occasion. But for men only.

 

• To mark the momentous occasion of a Roman man making it to 50 years old, a special cake was baked from wheat flour, olive oil, grated cheese, and honey. Blech.

• Female birthdays were not acknowledged until the 12th century – 1200 years later. And it’s about time. 

• The tradition of celebrating birthdays with sweet, elaborate, multi-layered (and covered with icing) cakes originated in Germany in the 1400s. Thank goodness they made cake for both men and women by then. And with sugar and icing.

 

When I was a kid, I thought people who were older than sixty were ancient - like they had one foot in the grave already. Now that I’m in that ancient category I decided to ask AI what it thought of people my age.

AI stated that people who are now in their 60s are considered to be in their "mid-life". Apparently, this is because people are living longer and healthier lives. What was once considered "old" is now seen as middle age – how cool is that? Maybe AI isn’t as awful as we think it is … given the context.

So here I am, continuing to bask in the warmth of the season and ready to eat sugary cupcakes on my birthday. Fortunately, my new mid-life status doesn’t rob me of my senior’s discounts. But I possibly need to look into getting a cooler, faster, prettier mid-life crisis car. 

Have a fabulous day. And let me know if you find a crocus because I'm still looking.

St. Patrick's Day Contest at Books We Love, Ltd.

Win a basket of Digital books plus this gift basket!

Link to Enter Contest: https://www.bookswelove.net/contest-entry-from/

 

 

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

bbaker.write@gmail.com

 

Don't Take Tomorrow for Granted by J. S. Marlo

 

Undeniable Trait

is available now!

Click here

   

 

  

J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

There's a quote that says Blood is thicker than Water but I strongly believe that Love is thicker and stronger than Blood.

Last week I lost a dear friend and an amazing sister. We raised our children together. We were each other's listening ear and shoulder to cry on. We shared so many dreams—some we realized but many were still on our bucket list to do together. We thought we had at least another fifteen years to empty that bucket, but in the blink of an eye, she departed on her last voyage without even a goodbye.

We met twenty-five years ago as young women. We didn't grow up together, we didn't speak the same first-language, and we weren't sister at birth.

Not all families share the same blood, and not all blood-family are worthy of the term family. One has no say in which family one is born, but one can choose which family one can love and trust.

She was more than a friend, more than a sister. She was my chosen-sister. I loved her and I knew I would miss her one day in the far, far future. I never expected that it would happen now—and that she would leave such a giant hole inside my chest.

So, here's the one last thing she taught me: Don't take tomorrow for granted.

Hugs!

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Meet Louisa and Vivian by Eileen O'Finlan

 

Click here for purchase information

Last month I began introducing the new Cat Tales characters with Buster Parker. This month I'd like to introduce Louisa and Vivian.

Louisa is a great blue heron and Jasmine's business partner. If you've read the first book in the Cat Tales series, All the Furs and Feathers, you'll know that Jasmine is a Russian Blue cat and Smokey's best friend, and you may remember Louisa who made a very brief appearance as part of Jasmine's web design team for Oneness Park. In All in the Furry Family, Jasmine and Louisa have teamed up to form Blue Landing Web Design. Smokey's not sure how she feels about Louisa. She finds her standoffish, but if she's being honest with herself, she's really a little jealous of Jasmine's growing friendship with Louisa and worries she'll lose her best friend.

Vivian is a flamingo and an old college friend of Louisa's. When she stops by to visit Louisa on her way to meet her dance troupe for a competition in the Canary Islands, Louisa brings her to a Hunter's Moon Night party at Smokey and Autumn Amelia's cottage. 

In this excerpt from All in the Furry Family, Louisa and Vivian regale their hosts and the other party guests with tales of their college exploits. Vivian has just described a prank Louisa pulled on one of her professors. The guests ask for more stories and Vivian obliges:

"Well, there was the time she had a huge test she was not ready for. So, on the morning of the test, instead of studying, she made a huge banner with the words, 'All classes canceled this afternoon' and flew over the campus with it tied to her tailfeathers, hoping no one would show up for class and the test would have to be rescheduled."

"Did it work?" asks Rivet.

Vivian snorts and Louisa groans.

"No," says Vivian. "But she did get out of the test after she flew straight into a tree and spent the rest of the day in the infirmary."

"Louisa!" Jasmine exclaims.

"Don't remind me," says Louisa, covering her face with her wing. "That was the worst headache of my entire life," she tells Vivian. "You were at that party, too."

"But I did not have a test the next day."

"Oh, yes, the model student. But what about the time we went to the Bahamas?"

Vivian sits taller. "We had a lovely time."

"Sure, until the last night. Remember the beach party?"

"Oh. That," says Vivian, trying to stifle a giggle by wrapping a wing around her bill.

"What happened?" asks Sam.

If you'd like to know what happened, you'll just have to read All in the Furry Family, but let's just say when you party on the beach with drunk iguanas things can get out of control quickly.

If you'd like a chance to win a signed copy of All in the Furry Family, go to the "Giveaways" page on Goodreads to enter anytime before March 30, 2025. Winners will be chosen in April.

Click here for purchase information (just the book, not the cat!)

The Unexpected Gift Inside a Book by Eileen O'Finlan

 

                        

                                           

Click here for purchase information

I grew up hearing family stories and reminiscences from both of my parents, especially my mom. She told many of them so often I eventually knew them by heart. My mom often spoke of her old friend, Carleton Carpenter. They grew up together in Bennington, Vermont. She talked about how close they were as youngsters and the many things they did together growing up in the 1920s and '30s. She would reminisce about how Carleton used to write plays and get all the kids in the neighborhood together to put them on, directing everyone with authority. This is no surprise when you realize that he went on to act on Broadway and in several movies, often playing opposite Debbie Reynolds.

One day, several years ago, when my mom (and Carleton who was the same age) were in their 90s, I found out that Carleton Carpenter had written a memoir called The Absolute Joy of Work: From Vermont, to Broadway, Hollywood, and Damn 'Near Round the World. I bought a copy for Mom which she loved. 

Then I got the idea of trying to see if I could reconnect these two old friends. They'd lost touch after high school so it was a longshot but worth a try. It took a while, but I finally tracked him down and got an address. He was living in New York. I wrote to him, explained who I was, and hoped he'd remember my mom. He was, after all, in his 90s, and I had no idea what he might or might not remember. I was so excited when I got a letter back from him saying that he certainly did remember his old friend, Barbara, and was so glad that I had contacted him. He included a letter for my mom in the envelope. I don't know who was more delighted, Mom or me!

I had given Mr. Carpenter our phone number in the letter I sent to him and he put his in the letters he sent to us. I set up a date and time with him to call my mom. After that call, she spent the day looking like she was in a blissful daze. She just couldn't get over the fact that she had been reconnected with a dear old friend who she hadn't seen or heard from in over 70 years. They continued to write to each other and talk on the phone frequently. She caught him up on her life, who she'd married, her kids, where she'd worked and lived. And he told her all about her acting career and his close friendship with Debbie Reynolds and how sad he was at her recent passing.

It was only a few years later that Mom slipped so suddenly and deeply into dementia that she had to be moved to a nursing home. I learned that Carleton Carpenter passed away on January 31, 2022. I chose not to tell Mom because by then she thought she was living in Vermont and he was her neighbor. It would only confuse and upset her. Mom passed away almost one year later.

Recently, I came across Mom's copy of the memoir he'd written and decided to read it. It begins with his childhood in Vermont. As I read, I noticed that Mom had underlined the names of several people and places he mentioned. Obviously, these were people and places she remembered. Now, as I read it, I imagine what it must have been like for her to read that book and be taken back to her childhood and the happy days she spent with Carleton and their friends and neighbors in Bennington.

I have also found that it is a gift for me because I feel as though through the underlined passages she is pointing things out to me, once again telling me her stories and sharing her childhood with me. I am so glad I found this book and decided to read it. I had thought that there was no way I could ever have that experience again and yet, here it is. I've always found books to be a great gift, but this one has given more than I could have hoped for in a way I never would have expected.

 

  

 

A Rock and Roll Story by Scot Bihlman

 Hello from Los Angeles! I’m excited to announce the release of my new book, Zen Tones, and thrilled to be part of the amazing BWL community! This book chronicles a musical journey through the challenges of the entertainment industry, while also exploring life through philosophy, psychology, and creativity. Along the way, it’s filled with motorcycle adventures and tattoos! Are there any motorcycle enthusiasts or tattoo lovers out there? Feel free to share your stories—what do they mean to you, and what journeys have they represented?

And always remember to stay zen, setting your tone to love and respect for both yourself and others.

Out of Hibernation

 

Click here to order today!      Click here to order today!

And so our Minnesota winter is coming to an end. 

It's time to do the slow wake up like the black bear. My muscles are aching to stretch and be pressed to their limits again. The hard ground feels different under my feet now that I'm wearing paddock boots or tennis shoes that hug my feet and encourage me to run instead of trudge. It's like when I was a kid and got a new pair of tennies and thought they made me run super-fast. Quite different from the bulky mukluks that warm to -30 degrees. 

It's time to dream of green plants and baby chicks. My green thumb is itching, so I bought a seed starter kit. We'll see if the cat doesn't have her way with that little setup in the window. My longing for new life won over my good sense, so I am also collecting eggs for the incubator. Can you have too many chickens? I think not. 

It's time to plan summery adventures. A Harley trip out to Yellowstone National Park ought to do the trick. Another trip to North Dakota is a must too. I miss my Kuntz Nokota Ranch family! And who knows what other getaways will crop up as the days go by and the farm sitters remain willing. 

But it's also time to play at home. Make crafty stuff I don't really need. Ride my horses and love on them without the bulk of layer upon layer of Carhartt. Run out to get the mail or quickly close the chicken coop without spending ten minutes dressing for it. Watch my flowers grow. Listen to my birds sing. Soak up the sun on the back porch in the afternoon with the dogs as the poplars and birch sway in the background.

It's time to swipe away the sleepy cobwebs in my dusty mind and get back into action mode. I am excited about a speaking event coming up this month at the local library where I will promote Echoes of the Nokota. It's always an honor to tell folks about Frank Kuntz and the Nokota horses. Maybe some spring horse events will provide opportunities too. Most of us are ready to creep out of our winter nests.

And finally, it's time to keep writing! The second installment of Forever Fields is underway. I am popping and humming and brimming with ideas. What fun it is to launch again into a world I have already prepared with Nokota Voices. Paisley Noon and her faithful dog Prairie and steady steed Journey have so much more to come!

Happy Spring, everyone. And happy writing!  

Local Author Visit: Julie Christen In-Person

How has one man’s life mission to make an unjust thing right – save North Dakota’s native horses – changed history?  Never in his dreams did Frank Kuntz think that he would become the one they were waiting for.

This is Frank’s story.

Join us at the Cambridge Library as local author, Julie Christen shares her inspiration for her non-fiction book, Echoes of the Nokota.

Julie lives in central Minnesota and has all her life. She has taught 8th grade English plus 6th and 8th grade health in the same room in the same district for nearly 30 years. Some say she has “staying power”. She is fiercely dedicated to the things in life that make her heart happy – books books books, her family, her animals, and her writing. She and her superhuman husband ride a Harley and their horses when they’re not working on some part of Small Potatoes farm.

Date:

Saturday, March 22, 2025

Time:

10:00am - 11:00am

Time Zone:

Central Time - US & Canada (change)

Location:

Opportunity Room (seating for 24)

Library:

Cambridge Public Library

Audience:

  Adults     Seniors     Teens  

Categories:

  Authors & Writing  

Getting into a new kind of Bind by donalee Moulton

We’re leaving winter behind and welcoming spring. This spring is particularly celebratory. I’m welcoming a new book. Bind is the first in my series, the Lotus Detective Agency.  I thought this month I’d share an excerpt with you – and would love your feedback.

ORDER HERE

Here’s a little background:

 

Everything that happens in a yoga studio is not Zen. Sometimes it’s grand larceny. Three yogis, two cops, and one damn cute dog join forces to discover who’s stolen a Patek Philippe watch from what was supposed to be a secure locker.  Time is ticking.

 

And here’s the excerpt.

From Bind

Ten yogis are in various stretches, twists, meditations, and yawns when Kristi walks back into the studio. She forces a smile, and the smile spreads of its own accord into her muscles, her bones, her heart. This is her sanctuary. She is at home here. The rawness she feels is still there, but it has moved to the edges now.

Today’s bind is a yogi squat. One leg is extended; the other is bent. One arm goes under the bent leg; the other goes around the back until they meet. In theory. Lexie can’t wait until this month is over, and it’s only day three. Bhodi looks around the room to see if anyone else has completed the bind. Surprisingly, Honey seems to have easily maintained the squat and the bind. Bonnie begins the countdown until she can come out of the contortion, which for her is a little squat and a hint of a bind.

Kristi takes this opportunity to explain the benefits of binds. “These poses allow muscles to release, relax, and open. You can go deeper. You can also focus on alignment and flexibility while building strength.” She breathes in.

“Dear God,” thinks Lexie, “there’s more.”

“If you make her stop,” Bonnie says to her higher spirit, “I will give you my first born.”

Kristi continues to talk, and smile. “Remember to breathe when you’re in the bind. Don’t tighten. And come out of the bind if you feel any pain. Go to your edge, but no further.”

Archina isn’t sure where her edge is, but she fears she left it behind several minutes ago. Woo Woo unbinds. She believes in the mind, body, spirit philosophy of yoga, but enough of this shit.

If it’s one thing Kristi knows, it’s how to read a room full of yogis. The edge has been reached. She tells everyone to stand up, give themselves a hug, and as a special treat, this morning there will be an extended savasana that includes a meditation. (Kristi always has a guided meditation on her phone.) The room smiles, even Bhodi. Eleven bodies move from the vertical to the horizontal. Archina grabs a blanket; Lexie puts a bolster under her knees; Kevin, the newest member of the group, reaches for his socks.

The Dalai Lama is midway through his 13-minute meditation on the disturbed mind when the studio door opens. Twelve faces turn to look at the human who belongs to the shoes that just clomped into their zen-like state. All twelve agree, zen is overrated. Standing at the entranceway to the studio is a 6’2” man with ripped muscles, ebony skin, and a three-day stubble. “He can bind with me any time he wants,” Kevin thinks.

It takes the intruder less than a second to realize he has interrupted the class at an inopportune time. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought class was over.”

“We’re running a little late,” says Kristi in a voice the class has not heard before.

“Please continue,” says Ripped. “I will come back.”

“Too late now,” says Bhodi. He gets the evil eye from most of the class.

“How can we help?” says Kristi introducing herself.

Ripped steps forward, hand extended. “My name is Michael …”

Before he can continue, Woo Woo interjects. “No, it isn’t. Your name is Lewis.”

The demi-god looks at her in surprise. He’s not alone. The whole class stares at Woo Woo.

“I’m so sorry,” Woo Woo says turning a deep magenta. “I don’t know why I said that.” But she does. Sometimes a thought, an image, a tickertape runs through Woo Woo’s mind. She knows it’s a message, and she usually tries to convey it. On this occasion, she wishes she hadn’t.

Michael turns back to Kristi, leader of the pack. “Terrell. Michael Terrell.”

“Did you want to join the class?” Bhodi asks. The snark is obvious.

“Please,” thinks Kevin. “Please join.”

Terrell smiles. “It’s on my bucket list, but today I’m here for a less pleasant reason. I’m a detective with the Halifax Police Department. I’m looking into a watch that seems to have gone missing from the gym.”

Kristi tries to control her breathing. No one else tries to control anything. Lexie’s eyes fly wide open. Charlene gasps. Bonnie recoils.

Honey farts.

  

BWL Publishing new releases March 1, 2025

Elizabeth loves her job at the Manitoba Legislature building in Winnipeg, Manitoba. However, being marooned at work on the eve of the winter solstice due to a blizzard was not on her list of holiday events. The legislature building is full of mysterious symbols, hidden in plain sight. From the Bison to the Pool of the Black Star, there is more to the symbols than Elizabeth ever imagined. To her surprise she encounters another soul in the building with her. A mysterious man who says his name is Septimus. Together they must thwart a once every hundred year threat to the honesty and morality of those who pass through the doors of the legislature. Sacred Geometry, sacred numbers and a message only the Sphynx on the roof can supply.

 Editorial Review, JD Shipton

Behind the seemingly banal stone colonnades, walls, and statues of what would normally be considered one of the least exciting buildings in town (The Manitoba Legislature), lie centuries of tradition, ages of myth and legend, and a very animated cast of specters, ghouls, and demigods.  How would you react if you happened upon such a cast after work in a building you thought you knew?  This book is a reminder that what we might perceive at the surface often gives us but a shallow reflection of what really is. 

 

                 https://books2read.com/Night-at-the-Legislature

 

 Prairie weather plays a starring role in my novel Astraphobia, coming in June to BWL’s Paranormal Canadiana Collection (https://bookswelove.net/authors/paranormal-canadiana-collection/).   In Astraphobia, lightning in its many forms stalks three generations of the McKenzie family as they move from Scotland to Ottawa and ultimately to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.

Canada averages about two million cloud-to-ground lightning strikes a year.  Half a million of them are in Saskatchewan, and most of those are in the short, hot summer.  Spectacular thunderstorms put on a light show as they rage across the landscape, tossing around grain bins, flattening crops and sometimes setting things on fire.   It doesn’t take much to be the tallest thing on the prairie during a thunderstorm, although it might be some comfort to know that 90 per cent of the people who are struck by lightning survive.     

Saskatchewan is a drama queen when it comes to weather.    A week ago we were the coldest place on Planet Earth.  Colder than Siberia.  Or Antarctica.  So cold that taking a deep breath could freeze your lungs.

           

Today it’s plus five and we’re walking around with our coats open and our faces to the sun.   But the respite will be brief.  The temperature will plummet, melting rivulets will freeze into sheet ice scraped clean by cutting winds and we’ll be back to taking tiny penguin steps to get around.   Winter is the dominant season here, hanging around like an unwanted guest until April or even May.  Surviving it is a badge of honour.

Valentines, Chocolates, and Good Luck Charms By Connie Vines #ebookweek25, #Smashwords Connie Vines

 

I'm straddling two celebrations in my current blog post. 

Forgive me; I could not choose between them: hearts, candies, flowers,  charms, gold coins, or good luck.

So, in my usual enthusiastic abandonment, I'm running with it!

I must admit that Valentine's Day has become a highly commercialized holiday. However, in this busy world, it is a pause in the chaos of life. 

It reminds us to take time for our loved ones and cherished friends. 

Is it a love letter to Mushy? A box of Chocolates, too costly? Then, "spend" your time with your favorite person. After all, time is the most cherished gift. 

A walk in the park and sharing a thermos of coffee. Listening to the gentle call of morning doves...or simply spending an afternoon baking heart-shaped cookies together in the kitchen.  💓💕💘💝

🍀🐑💰

I must confess the thought of Leprechauns running around and pinching me was very disconcerting when I was a child.

Especially when I learned that the fairies could be mean and goblins ran amuck, too.  The only way to avoid harm was to wear green. Apparently, this kept a human 'invisible.'  This was a deal-breaker for me, LOL. I had three younger brothers and a younger sister--nothing made me invisible!

However, I enjoyed a meal of corned beef and cabbage during childhood and often a traditional shepherd's pie as an adult.

Unfortunately, I must confess my ignorance, which was only revealed when researching Saint Patrick's Day in my article today.

The word for today: Shillelagh.

I can spell it; I can pronounce it. 

I did not know it was a walking stick. 

Everyone has a favorite holiday. What is yours?

Feel free to share your favorite holiday memory.

Happy Reading, everyone!

Remember, SMASHWORDS has a HUGE SALE (50% off)  on all BWL Ebooks -- March 2 - March 8, 2025!!

Here's my link:

 https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/vinesbwl 

XOXO

Connie

Anthology (RomCom, Love Potion, Who-Done-It,  and Paranormal)

(RomCom Fantasy)

And, of course, Sexy, Hard-working Cowboys!