The first National Thanksgiving, York, PA, by Diane Scott Lewis

Although Thanksgiving can be traced back to 1621 at Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts, I was surprised to find that the first "Official" celebration was held in York, Pennsylvania in 1777.  The British had captured Philadelphia, pushing the Continental Congress out of that city. The Patriots fled west to York, a sleepy farm town populated mostly by Germans.

When the rebel General Gates defeated the British at Saratoga, the tide turned, and the exiles held a celebration, passing a resolution for a feast to be held, to honor the victory, on Dec. 18th. Hardly the date we use today. It's doubtful they had turkey or stuffing, and with limited resources, even enjoyed a hearty meal. But it showed the new government's growing strength in this establishment of the holiday.

The gathering was somber, with prayers of thanks, and might have included German (Pennsylvania Dutch) dishes. If they were fortunate, they ate Schnitz un Knepp: apple dumplings. Spaetzle: noodles and dumplings. Or Gumbis: a casserole of meat, onions, and dried fruit.

My novel, Her Vanquished Land, is set in Pennsylvania during the American Revolution, told from a different perspective. Rowena has little time to celebrate Thanksgiving as the rebels close in to plunder her home and life. Her family are Loyalists, the people who thought it was insane to fight for independence; the people who stayed loyal to England and the King. They believed they were on the right side. Tarred and Feathered, even hanged, they kept their loyalty and as a result were chased from the new United States. Many settled in Canada.

I threw in a thwarted love story as well, a Welshman who spies for the British, who captures Rowena's hoydenish heart. However, he harbors his own secrets and may have no need for her confused (to her) affection. Will they survive the war and find love?

The Loyalist side of our American history is seldom told, but it is an interesting part of the development of North America.

 

To purchase from Amazon

 

For more information on me and my books, visit my website: Diane Scott Lewis

 

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for an on-line publisher, and wrote book reviews for the Historical Novel Society. She lives with her husband and one naughty puppy in Western Pennsylvania.

 

A Little History About the Pilgrims and Celebrating the First Thanksgiving on Cape Cod

Dangerous Sanctuary by J.Q. Rose

Cozy mystery

Click the highlighted link to find more mysteries by J.Q. Rose at BWL Publishing

Hello and welcome to the Books We Love Insiders Blog.

Thanksgiving Day is Thursday, November 28 in the USA. The First Thanksgiving was in 1621 when the Pilgrims invited the Wampanoag people to a feast to celebrate the harvest with them. The Pilgrims and their guests came together to enjoy the bounty of their hard work, but most important of all they wanted to express their gratitude and to thank God for the good things in their lives.

The Pilgrims said Thank You!

The idea of a day of Thanksgiving boggles the mind when we realize the trauma and turmoil the Pilgrims went through that first year struggling to develop a colony in the New World. Remember these Pilgrims attempted to make the voyage across the ocean three times in the Mayflower and the Speedwell sailing vessels. 

Making the final decision the Speedwell was unfit for the ocean voyage, they turned back after 300 miles on the ocean and a wasted month and a half on that trip. They unloaded the cargo from the Speedwell and loaded it onto the crowded Mayflower. Many of the passengers left the adventure too tired or sick to start out again.

The Mast of a Sailing Ship

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

On September 6, 1620, 102 souls set sail from England. They endured hunger, sickness, death, and frightening storms on an open sea. They couldn't land where they had planned because of strong storms battering them. Rather than sail down the Hudson River to build their homes, they sighted the shores of Cape Cod on November 9. After exploring the area,  they decided to make Plymouth their home. Imagine trying to build a colony in that cold weather. Only half of the Pilgrims survived the winter. 

Wonders of wonders, after all this suffering and loss, they gave us the greatest gift, Thanksgiving! The Pilgrims gave thanks for their blessings on that autumn day in 1621. Their First Thanksgiving is the lesson for understanding that even with so many problems and sadness, it is still possible to say "thank you" no matter the circumstances.

In these difficult times throughout the world, we often dwell on all the bad things that are happening. Problems swirl around us every day making it difficult to take time to reflect and find something good to be thankful for. But sometimes the smallest things are actually the biggest things.


How about

• a child's smile
• a hearty laugh at a friend's silly joke
•  a sunny day
• a warm cup of coffee or cocoa after coming in from the cold weather
• a hug?

* * *

To learn what was on the table for the First Thanksgiving, click here to read my blog post at the Books We Love Insiders Blog.

Autumn Greetings from J.Q. Rose
Click here to connect online with J.Q. at the Focused on Story Blog

Wishing YOU and yours a Happy Thanksgiving!

Books We Love Insider Blog: The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday

Books We Love Insider Blog: The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday: More Fun Than Shopping on "Black Friday!" One Thanksgiving, not too long ago but far, far away from home, I realized I forgot...

The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday

More Fun Than Shopping on "Black Friday!"

One Thanksgiving, not too long ago but far, far away from home, I realized I forgot to pack socks. A family member suggested I could borrow socks. Well, no. Thanks, anyway, but, um, no.

Socks are important. They're a crucial component of life. I mean, really, without socks, society would break down into violence. We'd be nothing more than savages without socks.

So, I ventured out, looking for socks on Thanksgiving night, the worst possible time to go sock shopping. Because "Black Friday" has now turned into "Deep, Dark, Blacker Then Black Full-On Week Friday," a week long orgy of no holds barred, sometimes violent, shopping free-for-alls.

At Walmart, folks scrabbled, pushed, screamed and raced toward what they perceived as good deals. The sock aisle was relatively barren, yet the over-all ambience of the store was one of menace. Agonized howls rang out through the aisles--not children, but older folks who should know better. Lines were longer than the wait at the driver's license bureau. Menacing glares were exchanged over the last video game available. Eyes were void of hope, yet full of greed. Sam Walton won this round.

It got me thinking about the true meaning of Thanksgiving. It's an American holiday based on how the Pilgrims gave thanks to the Native-Americans for basically saving their lives. And, of course, we know how well that turned out for the Native-Americans. Greeting card companies and big business want us to forget that little tid-bit. From the depths of a wiped out culture rose a Hallmark moment. Thanksgiving now means familial togetherness and love. We get together with our families for one day, get it all over in one fell swoop and move on with our lives.

Yet...it's come around again. Thanks to Corporate America, Thanksgiving's returned to its roots. Once again, it's about violence and survival of the fittest. Weak shoppers will be trammeled over and forgotten. Those with the strongest stamina, pocketbooks and pepper-spray will persevere, no matter who has squatter rights.

I did come away from my Black Friday experience with socks. It took a helluva' long time. While my feet stink less, I feel like a pawn in the Big Plan Of Things. Next Thanksgiving to protest, I'm going to defiantly wear dirty socks. Join me if you will.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Speaking of disorganized chaos, Boundless Book Reviews calls Murder by Massage: "Chaotic, fun and hilarious." It's book #2 in the ongoing Zach and Zora comical mystery series. Collect 'em all!

Avoid those holiday shopping lines, by clicking!

When it's Time by Nancy M Bell

To learn more about Nancy's work click on the cover above.

One of the hardest things of having animals in your life is when it's time to say goodbye. In a perfect world our friends would lay down one day and move over the Rainbow Bridge of their own accord. In reality, this seldom happens. Old age, sickness, accidents often force us to make decisions we'd really rather not. November 8th was just such a day. Max, the horse pictured above, has been with me for the last 8 years. He came to me lame with navicular, which we have managed with shoeing and anti inflammatories. We kept him blanketed far more often than the rest of the horses as the cold and wet tightened his muscles up. The horses were in the barn overnight often solely because it was better for Max, who would lie down in the deep bedding when he wouldn't if left outside.
It became painfully obvious last July that our maintenance measures just weren't enough anymore. I called Moore and Company Veterinary and had x rays done of his left forefoot. They showed what I feared, his navicular bone, which is small crescent moon shaped bone located beneath the bulbs of the heel and just a bit above coffin where the deep flexor tendon runs over it, was mostly disintegrated and tendon was frayed. In some less severe cases a vet can perform a nervectomy which basically removes all feeling in the foot. However, Max was a poor candidate for this due to his advanced age of 25 years and the degree of damage in his foot.
After much discussion with two Board Licensed Equine Veterinary surgeons the decision was made to give Max the summer and manage his pain with medicine. It is only a short term solution at this point as the amount of medicine needed to mitigate the condition is also detrimental to his system.

For those of you not horsey, see the image below to give you an idea of the structure of a horse's lower leg and hoof. Photo credit Mid-South Horse Review

As fall rolled around I was faced with the fact I needed to make a decision that was in Max's best interest. Even though my head knew the facts and that this was the best possible outcome, my heart didn't want to listen.
I planned the day to be as stressfree as possible. The vet came to the farm, I called Just Passing which is a company that deals entirely with the respectful removal of dead horses. The only other option to me was to call Alberta Processors which is a company the will come and pick up dead livestock where the body is scooped up and dumped into the back of a high sided truck bed along with dead cows, pigs and heaven only knows what else. Just Passing moves the body as carefully as possible and it goes into a clean stock trailer bedded with clean shavings. I held Max while they sedated him slightly, and then the vet infused the Euthanol. I stroked Max's face and he gave two deep breaths and gracefully and slowly laid down. He was gone before his head lay on the grass. The vet confirmed he was on his way to the Rainbow Bridge and we waited a full fifteen minutes. Emily, his pasture mate of 8 years stood at the fence the whole time whinnying to him, she watched while he went down and then was put in the trailer. Once the trailer left she whinnied twice more and then wandered off. She was depressed for a few days and wanted more attention than usual. Horses grieve in their own way, this has been documented in wild horse herds. When a herd member dies the herd will form a circle around the fallen member and stand that way for long time. Then at some hidden signal they will move off together after touching the dead horse with their noses, each in turn.

I hate having to make the decision to steal the light from any animals eyes, but often it is the kindest thing we can do for them. I would never let any of my animals transition without me being there unless it was physically impossible. It is never a nice thing, but it is the final gift we can give them, to be there for them because they trust us and aren't afraid of strange surroundings or humans. I fight with the feeling that I'm betraying that trust each time. My head over rules my heart with the knowledge that Max was getting more and more unable to move around and I didn't want to come out one day and find him down and unable to get up, or with a broken leg or a catastrophically blown tendon. All things I discussed with the bet.

It sucks when it's time. There is another star in the sky now, shining from the Rainbow Bridge where Max will be waiting for me along with all my other loved creatures when it's my time.

Sorry to be so depressing, writing about things that touch us deeply is cathartic and it is a tribute to those we have lost.

Be well, be happy.

Wanderings - Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor , #MFRWAuthor #Writing #Reviews

Learning new things can be a real hard and interesting challenge. Lately I’ve been trying to master Book Bub. I’m not sure I have but lately I’ve received a number of new followers. I invested a little bit of money and have new followers every day. I’m going ot do the same for December, I think. I keep trying to recommend books but haven’t done well at that. The problem is time. I have several posts saved to do different things there. I’m not sure what will come of this.

I would rather be writing. I even have a tee shirt that says that and I wear it frequently, especially when something takes me away from my chair and clipboard. As it’s almost Thanksgiving, I will say I’m thankful for having a great publisher and a lot of co-writers whose books I enjoy. There’s also the aide who comes in five morings a week to get my invalid husband ready for be. There’smy granddaughter who helps around the house, my six other grandchildren who I don’t see as often as I would like. My children are part of this.

I’ve also been doing some reviews. They are not wonderful but I never give lower than a four. I think I’ve done what I’ve read for October  and September. I’m working on November as I’ve been reading them.

Now if I could just master all the promotional things out there, I would be pleased.

I’m also thankful for Katherine Miller who starred in my first ebook. Hard to believe that was about 20 years ago.

Old money, by J.C. Kavanagh

Short-listed for Best Young Adult Book 2018, The Word Guild

Money. Who doesn't love it... want it.... need it? How about old money? I don't mean 'old' as in family wealth passed from generation to generation. I mean old money. 100-years-old money.

My Irish dad (RIP), encouraged me to save coins that were minted for specific events, ie the 1976 Olympics in Montreal. Or Canada's 100-year celebration of Confederation in 1967. He kindly gave me some old coins before he passed and I have many of them to this day.

One of them is a Canadian 50-cent silver coin, minted in 1872. One side has laurel-type wreaths and the other is the bust of Queen Victoria. The words "VICTORIA DEI  GRATIA REGINA" are captioned above the Queen's bust, and "NEWFOUNDLAND" is stamped at the bottom. This coin was minted after Canada's Confederation in 1867 but well before Newfoundland embraced the concept of Canada as a unified country. (It wasn't until 1949 that Newfoundland officially became a province of Canada.)

And what is the value of this old money? According to the website CoinsandCanada.com, it's worth a measly $10. Canadian. That's about $3 American. Well, not really, but it's not much. If the coin were in 'mint' condition, it would be worth approximately $1,000. My coin is in very poor condition, thus the $10 value.

My dad also gave me a British five-shilling (one Crown) cupro-nickel coin, minted in 1965. (According to Wikipedia, cupro-nickel (CuNi) is an alloy of copper that contains nickel. It may also contain other elements such as iron and manganese.) The five-shilling coin commemorates the death of Sir Winston Churchill. Dad told me to hold on to the coin, as it would surely increase in value.

There were nearly 19 million of these coins minted. Which is why the coin is valued at.... five shillings. 25 pence. Yah, that's about 43 cents Canadian.

So I continued checking out the CoinsandCanada.com website for more values. I have a ziploc-bag encasing a 1967 Centennial Confederation $1 bill. Surely, I'm thinking, that must be worth something.

Maybe not. My lovely dollar bill is worth perhaps $4 Canadian. That money tree is not within grasp at all.

One last check on the site. I have a 1976 Canadian Olympic $100 commemorative coin. The city of Montreal, Quebec played host that year to more than 6,000 athletes representing 92 countries. The coin is 14-karat gold and the Bank of Canada minted 650,000.

It's in excellent condition, in the original commemorative holder, never opened, and since 1976, encased in a trusty ziploc bag. The value? $430. NOW we're talking.

I'm not sure what I'll do with these coins. Sell them, or bestow them to my children or grandchildren? But really, who wants old money these days?

J.C. Kavanagh

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

Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart

Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com

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