Christmas is Coming - Janet Lane Walters #

Christmas doesn’t figure in many of my stories and I’m not sure why. But one of my books The Leo Aquarius Connection revolves around the holiday.

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The nurses stare as he exits the elevator on the Pediatric Unit. “Enter the handsome doctor.” Those are Doctor Caleb Winstone’s words as he steps off the elevator. Though he’s embarrassed, this Leo doctor rolls with the punches. He’s returned home to join an older doctor in the practice. Before long he learns the new nurse manager of the unit is a woman he knows. Of all the women in the world, she is the last one he wants to see. How can he manage to work daily with her?

 Before the day ends, he discovers his mother has decided who he should marry and the woman is quite willing. Not for him. 

Suzanna Rollins is an Aquarian and now the guardian of her half-brother who was badly injured in a car accident. She takes the position as nurse manager of the Pediatric unit for several reasons. One is the move from the city re-unites her with college friends, the Grantley Gang. The other is for the excellent Rehab Center.

 On the day of her arrival, she encounters Caleb. What is he doing here and why? Can she work with the man she fell in and out of love with the night he offered her less than marriage? Caleb’s interest in helping her half-brother gives them more together time than they imagined.

The heroine has never had a real Christmas with tree, lights, many presents. Nor has her younger brother. The hero’s Christmases have been orchestrated and he will be alone this year. 

Now what does that have to do with my Christmas. I love the holiday and right now, I’m in the process of filling eighteen stockings for my children and grandchildren. I love doing this and finding a lot of interesting presents. I’m getting to the point in the process of having to figure what left to find for perhaps one or two of the stockings.

Eight are done. Once the stockings are finished. Then it’s on to decorating the tree and the house and then baking cookies. The rush will be over before the day arrives but then there’s cooking the dinner.

The only good thing about all this madness is that I am managing to write a little. If I don’t see a bit of progress every day, I lose the Christmas spirit. Five hundred words is enough to keep me happy. 

So Christmas is coming and the stockings will be hung, actually some are sent to Florida and the others will cluster around the tree,

A pew and a Kavanagh link, by J.C. Kavanagh

Darkness Descends, 

Book 2 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series

It started with an old church pew. I bought it in 1989 from the St. James parish church in Colgan, Ontario. The church was celebrating a 100-year anniversary, and part of the celebration was replacing the pews, which were built from local trees and by local carpenters in 1889.

The 6' pew was in decent condition when I brought it home - made from pine, oak and walnut. The 'legs' were cast iron, fashioned in the Gothic/Romanesque style of the day. The wood holder for hymnals and booklets was intact, as was the card-sized metal plate frame that displayed the name of the family that donated money for the pew / church. Even the kneeler was included. And so a new life began for the old pew, first in my kitchen. Children and their friends ate meals on this historic pew - a pew that had once been reserved for peace and quiet. Not so in a kitchen filled with youngsters.

Years later, it began another life - outside on my covered porch. Many a person sat on that pew with a cigarette or drink in hand (back when smoking was discouraged inside your home and encouraged outside). It sat for many years on that porch, holding strong and steady.

And then this year, we brought it back to its original glory. My partner and I love to refinish/refurbish/re-do oh, just about anything. We had just built a 7'4" table for our kitchen, using 100-year old maple planks from a local tree. We had the planks planed, glued and kiln-dried through a Mennonite business and then finished it ourselves - sanding, staining and then two coats of epoxy. That project led to the next project - re-finishing the kitchen chairs, including my father's old captain chairs. And that of course, led to the thought, "Well, wouldn't the pew look grand in here too?"

So the pew was resurrected from the basement, where it had been resting for the last six years. We carefully separated the back from the bottom, the arms from the legs, and began a two-week project that included hours and hours of sanding, re-gluing cracks, re-gluing the back/bottom tongue-in-groove joiners, staining and varnish. Oh, and sand-blasting the iron legs and then spraying a protective clear-coat gloss varnish.

New table (temporary legs as we're still designing permanent legs), 
re-furbished chairs and pew.

We kept most of the original nails in place - the heads were rectangular! 

That's when I decided I would research the history of the pew, because I do love history. And to my surprise, I discovered that the pew may be linked to my own history - the Kavanagh clan. Back in the 1800s, the Colgan area was being settled by Irish Catholics in large numbers - sufficient to build several churches within a 5-mile radius. St. James was the grandest of them all, first built in 1851 and then replaced in 1889. The main church, still an active parish, accommodates about 700 people and the upper gallery about 150.

Artist's sketch of St. James church in Colgan, Ontario. 

Top right, weather-beaten church circa 1855.

And who were the builders contracted to construct this magnificent church? The Kavanagh brothers, Sam, William and 'Lil.' They had already built a small mission church, St. Francis Xavier, in nearby Tottenham. My mom told me that some of her father's uncles had emigrated to Canada and New York during the Irish potato famine (1845-1852). Unfortunately, they didn't keep in touch with their Irish kin. My grandfather's name, by the way, is William Kavanagh, born in 1902 and named 'William' in keeping with the tradition of carrying on the patriarch's given name. Coincidence? Only one way to find out. Research.

I'll keep you posted.

Current photo of St. James church, Colgan, Ontario, 

built in 1889 by the Kavanagh brothers. 

Total construction cost: less than $15,000.

Don't forget to add The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends to your Christmas list! Fantastic reading for young adults and adults young at heart. You won't be able to put it down.

Merry Christmas to all!

J.C. Kavanagh 

The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) 
AND
The Twisted Climb, 
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers' Poll
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
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Meeting a Voodoo priestess in New Orleans

It took some effort to connect with Priestess Miriam. When we arrived in the morning at the Voudon temple near the center of New Orleans, she was busy, even though we had an appointment.

“Come later,” she said. “I’m busy now.”

My son and I had planned this trip for months. We had flown to Houston and rented a car there; our plan being to travel across the South for two weeks.

We returned at noon, but the priestess couldn’t meet us. “Later” she shouted from the back. What did “later” mean? Time seemed to be a fluid concept for the priestess.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” commented my son.

I shrugged my shoulders. We spent the day sightseeing and, finally, at four-thirty in the afternoon, gave it one more shot.

“Alright, come in,” she said. She didn’t seem particularly welcoming. The priestess was past middle-age, with dark walnut cheeks, grey hair tied with a red bandana, and wore a white gown. The front of the temple contained a store, stuffed with various charms, liquids and herbs—traditionally called gris-gris, all necessary for the practice of Voudon. In the back was a large room, filled with an incredible number of knick-knacks—African masks, statues of the Virgin Mary, tie-died Hindu Deities and Tibetan Thankas. It was certainly an eclectic collection. She sat on a large seat while we occupied a small sofa in front.

“What do you want?” she questioned, getting to the point quickly.

“What is Voudon about?” I asked.

"It’s about healing. About allowing one to heal one-self.” She explained its history. “The English were not the only ones involved in the slave trade. The French also imported slaves to the Americas. But the difference was this: according to French laws, children were not separated from parents at an early age. Therefore, many African customs were transmitted to slave children, unlike in the rest of America. So Voudon became prevalent in Haiti and New Orleans.”

The old lady became more open as the evening progressed, as did we. The conversation took many turns: historical, social and even personal. I expressed my satisfaction of my travels with my son. She talked about the history of Louisiana, of New Orleans and the temple.

“The negative image of Voudon comes from Hollywood and sensational novels. They make it out to be something dark. But it is nothing more than the spiritual practices of West Africa, still practiced by over thirty million people—the Fon, Mandika and Bambra. However, over time, North American Voudon has become somewhat different.”

As she talked, she relaxed as did my son and I. Most of her visitors came for personal help: dealing with broken relationships and hurt. She healed and, in that, lay her power.

Finally, it was time to head out. I looked at my watch. It was eight-thirty.

As we said our goodbyes, she reached over to one of the shelves in the store. “This gris-gris contains some herbs. They purify the spirit. Please take it.”

We accepted the gift with gratitude. Maybe one day, we will be able to visit Priestess Miriam again.

Please read about this episode and others in Mohan Ashtakala’s new release, “Karma Nation.” www.mohanashtakala.com . 

Published by Books We Love: http://bookswelove.com/authors/ashtakala-mohan-fantasy/