Monday, June 13, 2016

Road Tripping USA Part Six by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey


https://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Cat-Kid-Kids-Book-ebook/dp/B01FNQ5GTA

www.joandonaldsonyarmey.com

Author’s Note
I belong to Angels Abreast, a breast cancer survivor dragon boat race team in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada. Every four years the International Breast Cancer Paddlers Commission IBCPC) holds an international festival somewhere in the world. In the spring of 2013, my team received a notice that the IBCPC had chosen Sarasota, Florida, USA, to hold the next festival in October 2014.
    We decided to attend and while the other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home I wanted to see more of the country and meet some of the people. My husband, Mike, and I drove from our small acreage at Port Alberni, British Columbia, on the Pacific Ocean, to Sarasota, Florida on the Atlantic Ocean.
   Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the people I would meet nor the beautiful places I would see nor the adventures I would have on our ten week, 18,758km (11656 mile) journey. On the thirteenth day of every month in 2016 I will post a part of my trip that describes some of the excellent scenery, shows the generosity and friendliness of the people, and explains some of the history of the country. The people of the USA have much to be proud of.

 Road Tripping USA Part Six
After the dragon boat festival in Sarasota, Florida, Mike picked me up at the hotel and as we drove south he suddenly said. "Gee, I want to go shopping at that place. You don't have to listen to kids crying or fighting while you are shopping."
     "Sounds good,” I said. I looked out the window but we were already past it. “What was it?" I was picturing a grocery store or clothing store.
    “It's a Jack and Jill adult only superstore."
     “It would be a quiet place to shop,” I said. At home, we usually shop at The All Canadian Superstore for our groceries. I thought that, like some restaurants, grocery stores were now becoming for adults only.
     Then after smirking a bit Mike explained it was an Adult Only Superstore—kinky stuff. And no, we didn’t go shopping.
     We drove to Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary. Mike wasn’t feeling well so I went alone. It was a lovely walk along the 2.25 mile (3.6km) boardwalk. I strolled above the wet prairie and into the pond cypress trees. The boardwalk zigzagged through the trees to the lettuce lakes which are covered in greenery that looks like leaf lettuce. Then I entered the world’s largest old growth bald cypress forest. Some of the trees, which are related to the redwood, tower 130ft (40m) overhead and are 25ft (7.6m) in circumference. Although this sanctuary is home to alligators, I didn't see any. I did however, see a mama raccoon and three babies.
     We drove to Naples and stopped at the Walmart to do some shopping. It was hot so we tried to find some trees for shade in the side area of the parking lot. I was on the overhead bed reading when I heard a noise that I thought was a knock.
     “Did you hear anything?” I asked Mike
     He went to the door and yelled. “What can I do for you?”
     There was no answer.
     He pulled aside the blind then pointed to me. I looked out my open window and saw a woman standing just below me by the passenger's door. She was nicely dressed and had a container of juice or water.
     “Can I help you?” I asked through the open window.
     She looked around.
     “Up here.”
     She still couldn't find me.
     “Up, up. Look up.”
     She finally did and saw me. "Do you have any cigarettes?" she asked.
     “I’ve never smoked and my husband quit years ago.”
     “Thank you.” She walked away.
     Mike thought she was a hooker trying to drum up business. I said her clothes didn't suit that type of job. She was dressed more for working in a store. He figured she probably went to every truck and asked for a cigarette.
     It was 82F (27.7C) at 10:30am as we headed out of Naples. I still couldn’t associate the temperatures with the fact that it was the end of October. If we were at home on Vancouver Island, it would be overcast, raining, maybe plus 5*C (41F).
     We were on the Tamiami Trail. The construction of this highway was begun in 1923 by a private citizen who put up his own money. In 1926, the state took over to complete it. It opened in 1928 and connects Tampa and Miami.
     We stopped at the Marsh Walk Trail. The walk itself is 1.1 miles (1.8km) but it was so hot that I only went about ¼ mile to the observation tower and looked out over the marsh. I saw fish swimming in the pond below the tower and birds flying around. Beautiful.
     We drove to the Everglades National Park. I went into the office to find information about taking the Ten Thousand Island boat tour. While I waited my turn to book a spot I wandered around the gift shop. I saw a number of women wearing the t-shirt that all team members had been given at the dragon boat festival.
     “I have one of those,” I said to one of the women.
     “Oh, what team were you on?” she asked.
     “Angels Abreast from Nanaimo. What about you?”
     “Breast Friends from Edmonton.”
     “Wow,” I gasped. “I belonged to that team from 2002 to 2004.”
     “I’ve only been on it for three years,” the woman said.
     “Did you take the islands tour?”
     “Yes, we just came back. We’re on a bus tour through southern Florida before heading home.”
     They left then a different woman came in. “I heard that someone in here once belonged to Breast Friends,” she said, loudly.
     “I did.”
     “Oh,” she said, looking at me. “I was told that we may know each other.”
     “I left in 2004,” I said.
     She shook her head. “I didn’t join until 2006.”
     We hugged and she left to get back on the bus. I booked to go on the next tour and went to the motorhome to wait.
     “This is where the Florida peninsula breaks apart into thousands and thousands of tiny pieces,” the captain said after the cruise boat had pulled away from the dock. “These clusters of mangroves form islands in this shallow estuary that is constantly fed by a flow of fresh rainfall into the Florida Bay. The number of islands depends on the tide.
     “The red mangroves of Florida are trees that can grow in saline or brackish water. They reproduce by growing cigar-shaped baby plants that drop into the water and float until they find land to cling to and root. These mangroves thrive because they can remove fresh water from the saltwater. Their tangled roots are above ground so they can breathe.”
     As we slowly wove our way through the islands, I saw pelicans in the water and eagles in trees. We went past a manatee zone but I didn't see any manatees. The captain took us to the farthest island, and we looked out at the Gulf of Mexico. On our way back dolphins came and circled around the boat. We spent a lot of time watching them playing and feeding.
     We went into Everglades City for the night and the next morning headed back to the Everglades National Park where we took a boat ride inland through the Mangrove Trees. Captain Josh took us along nameless waterways into the dense swampy part of the everglades. On some channels the branches met overhead blocking out the sun. We saw two alligators and had to duck webs made by huge spiders. We watched for manatees but none came around the boat. In spite of that we had a really good trip.
     Back on the Tamiami Trail we turned east and entered Big Cypress National Preserve. This 720,000 acre preserve protects the fresh waters of the Big Cypress Swamp, the waters of which are essential to the neighbouring Everglades.
     We stopped in at the Ochopee post office, the smallest post office in the US. We bought some stamps and mailed a post card to my mother. The post mistress said that they are busy all the time and send letters to many parts of the world.
     Along the road we saw a sign for the HP Williams roadside park and pulled in. There was a short boardwalk alongside a canal. We saw alligators, turtles, fish, and a cormorant. The cormorant sat on the edge of the land then slid headfirst into the water. We could see it swimming under the surface looking for fish. When it caught one, it rose to the surface and swallowed it.
     Further down the Tamaimi Trail we stopped at the Kirby Shorter roadside park. I walked on the boardwalk that is a mile round trip. I started out through a prairie-like area that was dry land with tall grass. The further I went, the wetter it got and then I was in a swamp with tall Cyprus trees. The transition from the prairie to the swamp was amazing.
     As we drove we did see road signs for the Florida panther but never saw one of the illusive cats. When we passed the Oasis Visitors Center we looked in the canal beside the road and saw lots of alligators laying side by side on the banks. We stopped and took pictures of them.
     Alligators are the world’s largest reptiles and date back millions of years to the dinosaur era. They grow a foot a year for the first four years and then slowly after that. It may take a female 10 to 15 years to reach maturity at seven feet (2.1m) long and a male 8-12 years. They can live between 35 and 60 years. Alligators only eat 15 to 20 times a year.
     We headed towards the Florida Keys. Key is from the Spanish word Cayo meaning small island. The Keys are an archipelago of about 1700 islands which are exposed portions of an ancient coral reef. They are connected to the US mainland by Highway 1.
     We began at Key Largo, made famous by the movie Key Largo staring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall and the song Key Largo recorded in 1981 by Bertie Higgins. We drove over many channels and through many towns on our way to Key West. There were souvenir shops, marinas, museums, and bakeries along the highway. There were many places where we saw the Gulf of Mexico on one side and Atlantic Ocean on the other. We finally quit counting the number of Keys that we drove through. The scenery changed from trees to ocean views to houses to state parks. The most impressive part of the drive were the bridges. Long Key Bridge over Long Key Channel lives up to it name. It is almost 2.5 miles (4km) long.
     As we drove over the Seven Mile Bridge, built between 1978 and 1982, we saw the old original bridge beside it. That was known as the Knights Key-Pigeon Key-Moser Channel-Pacet Channel Bridge. It was constructed between 1909 and 1912 as part of the Florida East Coast Railway which ran to Key West. In the 1930s, highway bridges were being constructed to connect the Keys but in 1935 a hurricane hit killing more than 200 of the workers. It also badly damaged the railroad tracks and they were never rebuilt. The bridge became part of the highway system. Now it is falling apart and there are trees growing on it, but part of it has been fixed up and is used for people to walk on.
     At the Bahai Honda State Park we pulled in to book a spot for the night but there weren't any sites left. We were told to go to the Big Pine Key Fishing Lodge. We crossed the Spanish Harbour Bridge and were in Big Pine Key. I went in to book a place at the lodge. It was $64.00 for the night. I decided I wanted to camp on the Gulf of Mexico so I paid the extra $6.00 to be on the water.
     We still had lots of time so we continued our journey south. We saw small islands of mangroves in the water, and on land I saw lizards in the grass. We arrived in Key West and Highway 1 became Truman Avenue. The further south we went on it the narrower the street became until it was down to one lane. We saw a lot of the old section of the city. We reached Fort Zachary at the southern end of the key and work our way through narrow streets almost too small for the motorhome.
     At the corner of Angela and Whitehead we turned onto Whitehead and drove past the Ernest Hemmingway Home. It is now a museum and open to visitors. However, the streets were so narrow that we couldn't find a place to park our motorhome.
     We turned onto Truman Avenue again and headed back to our campsite.
 
   

 

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Get Fired Up For Summer Contest ~ Next Weekly Winner

Nance-Lynn Greenshields wins a copy of Remnants of Dreams by Tricia McGill.

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Saturday, June 11, 2016

TACOMA’S MYSTERY VISITOR or WHO WAS LEO THE LION? by Karla Stover


 

     Tacoma’s location made life easy for smugglers, shanghaies, and the Hollywood circuit. By rail or water, luminaries such as Sarah Bernhardt, Lillian Russel, and Ethel Barrymore came, performed, and moved on. However, it was probably the Depression which brought MGM’s Leo the Lion to town. Leo was on a promotion tour.

     In 1917, Samuel Goldwyn formed a movie studio and a lion called Slats was used in one of the first pictures he produced. Seven years later, when Goldwyn, Marcus Loew, and Louis B. Mayer merged and formed Metro, Goldwyn, Mayer, Slats was kept on as mascot and a man named Howard Dietz designed the logo. The story is that Dietz he used the lion as tribute to his alma mater, Columbia University whose sports teams were the Lions and that Columbia’s fight song, “Roar, Lion, Roar” is the reason Leo growls.

     Back to Slats, he was born at the Zoo in Dublin Ireland on March 20, 1919 and was originally named Cairbre. Vaudeville and circus performer Volney Phifer trained Slats and was part of the group who brought him to Tacoma. Phifer was generally referred to as “the chief wrangler” of most of the animals which were used on a variety of MGM productions from the mid-teens to the late 1950s. The most famous beside Leo were Cheetah from the Tarzan movies and Toto, The Wizard of Oz Dog, though Phifer’s work on Gone With The Wind was considered to be important in keeping the many horses and other animals safe and also making their actions appear naturel.

     Slats was used on all black-and-white MGM films between 1924 and 1928. Unlike his successors, though, Slats did nothing but look around in the logo and was therefore the only MGM lion not to roar. Slats died in 1936, was skinned, and at last sighting his hide was on display at the McPherson Museum in McPherson, Kansas.

     Mel Koontz trained Jackie, the second “Leo.” Koontz started work as a sixteen-year-old popcorn and peanut vendor at Los Angeles’s old Selig Zoo. He worked himself up to "cage cleaner and eventually became an animal trainer. Jackie was the first MGM lion to roar—the roar was first heard via a gramophone record during MGM's first sound production, White Shadows in the South Seas (1928). In addition to appearing in the MGM logo, Jackie appeared in over a hundred films, including Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan movies. He also posed with a nervous Greta Garbo in a well-known 1926 publicity still. In her autobiography, actress Ann Miller wrote that when she was there the MGM lion didn’t have any teeth so maybe Miss Garbo was nervous for naught. Jackie is also known for surviving two train wrecks, an earthquake, and an explosion in the studio, giving him the nickname "Leo the Lucky".

     MGM began experiments with two-strip color short subjects in 1927 and animated cartoons in 1930. Two two-strip Technicolor variations of the MGM logo were created, using two different lions. The, Telly, appeared on all color MGM movies between 1927 and 1932. Telly roared softly, then a little louder followed by a brief pause, and then a final roar as he turned his head. The second lion, Coffee, appeared in color films between 1932 and 1934, and in 1935 for what were called the Happy Harmonies shorts, until production was switched to full three-strip Technicolor filming. Coffee roared once softly, and a second time a little louder.

     So, which lion did Mayor Melvin G. Tennent pose with in Tacoma? It must have been Jackie because in addition to the above mentioned accidents, the Tacoma Daily Ledger mentioned he had survived a Mississippi River flood and a plane crash. Jackie died at an advanced age of 23, in 1938, and is buried in Gillette, New Jersey, on the farm once owned by Volney Phifer

Slats (1924–1928)                                               AUTHOR OF:
Jackie (1928–1956)                                             Murder on the Line
Telly (1927–1932) and Coffee (1932–1934)      Murder, When One Isn't Enough
                                                                      
Tanner (1934–1956)                                            Hidden History of Tacoma

George (1956–1958)                                           Let's Go Walk About in Tacoma

Leo (1957–present)                                             A Feather for a Fan

     Courtesy of Wikepedia

Friday, June 10, 2016

Books We Love's Tantalizing Talent ~ Author A.M.Westerling


Living by the motto "You don't know unless you try", A.M.Westerling started writing historical romance because she couldn't find the kinds of fun stories she enjoyed. After all, she thought, who doesn’t enjoy a tasty helping of dashing heroes and spunky heroines, seasoned with a liberal sprinkle of passion and adventure? 

Westerling, a former engineer, is a member of the Romance Writers of America and active in her local chapter. As well as writing, she enjoys cooking, gardening, camping, yoga, and watching pro sports. She lives in Calgary, Canada. 
A note from Astrid:
Historical romance has always been my passion (ha, no pun intended!) as it blends my love of history with my love of romance and its always satisfying Happily Ever After ending. It really is a wonder I graduated from university because those were the days when historical romance really found its stride. I freely admit to spending way more time between the pages of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, Rosemary Rogers and Bertrice Small than the pages of my text books! Anyway, when the writing bug hit me, it only seemed natural to stay with that genre. 
My tag line includes the phrase “From Vikings to viscounts” because I enjoy many different eras. I’ve written four full length novels: a Viking romance, a Medieval romance, and two Regency set romances. Right now I’m working on another Viking romance set in Vinland or, as it’s known now, Newfoundland. I will also have to write a book featuring a viscount because I haven’t done that as yet!
In case you’re wondering, A.M. stands for Astrid Margarethe. Westerling is my mom’s maiden name and now you know how I came up with my pseudonym. 
 
Find me on the Books We Love website: http://www.bookswelove.com/authors/westerling-m/
My latest release, A Heart Enslaved: 
Amazon
Thorvald Stronghawk knows selling his beautiful slave Gisela will bring him the blood money needed to regain his good name. When his enemy tries to buy her, Thorvald must decide what he wants more: To recover his reputation or tame the woman who has vowed to hate him forever for destroying her home.
Gisela realizes the Viking Thorvald Stronghawk views her as chattel rather than a woman with a life and mind of her own. Although her head tells her to escape the man she views as nothing more than a savage murdered, her heart has other ideas.

Complete List of Books We Love titles by A.M.Westerling
A Heart Enslaved
A Knight For Love
Her Proper Scoundrel
The Countess’ Lucky Charm

Thursday, June 9, 2016

New Releases from Books We Love

Check out the latest releases from Books We Love and some second editions which have been revised and updated! Click covers for more information.
















   
         
   

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Get Fired Up For Summer Weekly Book Winner

Darla Kidder wins a copy of Crazy Kat Kid by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

Darla, please email bookswelove@telus.net 
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Monday, June 6, 2016

Family Trees by Gail Roughton

I've never been one to think knowing the names of one's great-great-great grandparents or the dates of their birth, or the name of the ship they left their ports of origin on made any family's lineage one bit better than the next.  After all, everybody has two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, sixteen great-great parents, thirty-two great-great-great grandparents, etcetera etcetera all the way back to Moses, whether they know all their names or not, now don't they?  

But don't get me wrong--I think family trees are fascinating and I applaud all who have the patience and fortitude to research their own. I don't. The names and dates start running together about the next generation back, especially when I hit the 1800's and big families were the norm, even up to those with fifteen and sixteen children. I know, because a few weeks ago, my husband got curious about a family legend passed down through one line of his family tree and was lucky enough to actually find some records which didn't provide any proof at all the family legend was true, but certainly established that one of his great-great (or was there another great thrown in?) grandmothers had sixteen kids in twenty-five years, bless her heart, and that's the southern bless your heart meaning "Oh, my Lord! That poor, poor woman!"

He didn't last all that long before his eyes started crossing, and just for the heck of it, I asked him to google my paternal grandfather's name because--you guessed it--my family'd passed down a story about that man and his two brothers. It seems that my grandfather (I'd always thought his name was Charlie William, but it turns out it was Charlie Wayne) and one of his brothers were walking into town to arrange for the funeral of another brother who'd just died when they were both electrocuted in a freak accident involving a downed power line, thereby necessitating three funerals instead of one.  Now, that's a story a writer'd never use in a novel 'cause they'd be afraid readers would consider it just too unbelievable.  I found it unbelievable myself, simply because realistically speaking, just how many power lines were up in rural Alabama in 1918 to get knocked down?! Surely all that story couldn't be true.  But that story, dear friends, that story's the absolute truth and nothing but the truth. And nobody's as surprised as me to make that discovery. Some kind soul, undoubtedly a relative of mine in some form or fashion, had kindly posted his obituary online, along with a picture that sits up on one of my bookcases, right  by my father's.  

Birth: Feb. 14, 1882
Death: Jan. 11, 1918

January 16, 1918 LaFayette Sun
Tragedy at Shawmut

Two brothers, Charlie and Abesco Roughton, of Shawmut, were instantly killed last Friday when they stepped into a pool of water which had been charged by a fallen electric wire carrying 55,000 volts. The young men were on their way to West Point to make arrangements for the funeral of their brother, John Roughton, who had just died of pneumonia. All three of the brothers were buried in the same grave at Shawmut.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrections: Abesco Roughton is Jacob Sebastian Roughton. Raughton is spelled Raughton, Roughton and Rotton. Sebastian's headstone does not list Jacob in his name and he was known by family as simply Sebastian. Jacob is listed on his life insurance policy.

John T Raughton may have died of TB rather than pneumonia. Family oral history indicates a rain storm was in progress as Charlie and Sebastian left to make the funeral arrangement, planning on walking to West Point from Shawmut. One of the brothers stepped into a pool of water and was being electrocuted and the other brother tried to rescue him and both were killed.

They are not buried in the same grave but next to each other. The headstones have a Masonic emblem. I was told that one or two of the brothers were Masons but due to the circumstance of their death, all were given a Masonic funeral.

This old article from The LaFayette Sun was under the obituary.

January 23, 1918 issue of The LaFayette Sun
Resolutions of Shawmut Lodge No. 798 A.F. & A. M.

Whereas, our Heavenly Father in his infinite wisdom has removed to the life beyond, two of our beloved friends and co-workers, Brother John T. Raughton, Worship Master and Charles W. Raughton, Junior Warden of Shawmut Lodge No. 798 A.F. & A.M. As husbands and fathers they were affectionate and true, as Masons, they were loyal and true to the principles and tenets of our order, and in their removal to the Celestial Lodge above we realize the great loss which we have sustained and our hearts are greatly moved; therefore be it resolved:

First - That although having sustained an irreparable loss we bow in humble submission to God, whom we know makes no mistakes.

Second - That in their death we have lost two noble men, two generous friends, two genial companions, men of true, sound judgment, prompt in action and faithful in matters of trust.

Third - That we reserve the memory of their useful lives and commend their examples worthy of emulation.

Fourth - That we extend to their sorrowing loved ones our heartfelt sympathy, beseeching the Father in Heaven to grant them consolation which they so much need, and which He alone can give.

Fifth - That a copy of these resolutions be spread on the records of our Lodge, and a copy be presented to the families, and a copy sent to the LaFayette Sun and to the Chattahoochee Valley Times for publication.

L. A. Cleveland, J. S. Wallis, C. H. Cole, Jr., Committee 


The links in that online article also provided me with pictures of my great-grandparents, Georgia Ann Anderson Raughton and Alonzo A. Raughton, and my great-uncle John T. Raughton. (I guess you noticed nobody in my family thought consistency in spelling was all that important.)

 I've actually seen all those graves, as well a few more, but that was way back in my younger days, when my daddy was alive and nothing was better than a day spent just driving around on Alabama country backroads, exploring old abandoned farmhouses and even older cemeteries. Certainly I'd never noticed/didn't remember/probably didn't even know that my grandfather and great uncles had Masonic headstones and for sure I didn't know the significance of that. There wasn't a picture of my grandmother, but there was a picture of her headstone. 

These little nuggets of family history are especially sweet since not only did I never know my paternal grandparents, for all intents and purposes my Daddy didn't either.  Charlie Wayne Roughton died three weeks before my father was born, and my grandmother died when Daddy was five, leaving him to be raised by his older sisters.  Mostly though, my Daddy raised himself in that Alabama Valley where men were either textile mill workers or sharecroppers and usually both, and he grew up fast. When he was twelve, he walked into one of those mills and worked one whole day. He swore at the end of that day he'd never set foot in another mill and he never did. He got a job as a carpenter's assistant and learned the construction trade. I'd say that decision qualified that twelve year old boy a man, wouldn't you?  He joined the Army during WWII and ended up in Macon, Georgia as a prison guard at Camp Wheeler. He never moved his family back to Alabama other than to visit.  When I was small, he supervised the construction of many buildings and facilities that still stand in Macon, and even today, passing by one of the sites where he oversaw construction makes my heart sing.  Had he had the chance for higher education, I've no doubt he'd have been one top-notch architect. Country roots are strong, sure, and they run deep. I'm from a long line of country, just like my Daddy. And country roots go deep. Speaking of which....

Small town Southern
Coming Soon



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