Shredding the Past Away

Even though Christmas was different at our house on the year without a Christmas tree, we still had a joyous time. Of all the practical gifts available in this world, my husband gave me a stackable washer/dryer. I countered and one-upped him with a paper shredder. Yep, romance sort of took second place...sort of. Read on!

There's a story behind this shredder. Stay with me here.

For years we have told each other that we needed to move the washer/dryer upstairs to the main floor, but we never actually did it. Instead, we dutifully walked up and down the steps to do the laundry in the basement. Nine months pregnant? I walked around outside in the rain to get to the basement carrying a basket of clothes on my hip. Those were the days, my friend!

I thought they'd never end. Up, down, carefully holding to the banister, watching not to trip over the dog, pulling the door at the top of the stairs shut so the cat couldn't get downstairs. And repeating all this to search for that one stray sock that just didn't make it back upstairs. 

Until...back in September, I broke my leg. Those days had to end, my friend. We knew the day would come, yet we didn't expect it to happen so fast. 

We called a contractor for advice and we started the process. Our four-bedroom home is now a three-bedroom home with a laundry room on the main floor. Yippeeee! It all sounds so easy now that we are nearly finished, but let me tell you it wasn't. And that's where the paper shredder comes in.

This fourth bedroom turned laundry room happened to be filled with all kinds of boxes and bags and crates of accumulated married-life junk. Before the contractor could even start, we had to clear out the room completely, no small task. Our very lives unfolded before our eyes. Since we hadn't moved from the house for over fifty years, the piles astonished us with odds and ends of memories.

One thing in the piles was a box of letters, not just any letters, but letters to me from my husband back when he was a student at Wingate Junior College and I was a student at Appalachian State Teacher's College. Yes, we're that old because both schools are now universities. We had just started dating and the letters were filled with cute comments about love and life that we have no intention of their ever seeing the light of day to anyone but us, especially not our children who will be the ones to clean out this mess once we kick the bucket.

So I bought a paper shredder and a bottle of wine, and on Christmas Day we opened the box. We spent the afternoon reading letters aloud to each other, laughing at how immature we were and tearing up as we read about boys on his dorm hall being called up to the draft and VietNam. We time-traveled by the songs of the sixties that he mentioned in his letters and the movies he wrote about that we had long since forgotten. Many of the people he mentioned are no longer living, but they came alive in his descriptions of their corporate antics as college sophomores. 

We did save a few select letters that show our children how much of a true romance we had, but the rest are gone. No regrets. 

Mainly because then the contractor started.

A glance at the room during construction

This week, the washer was installed. 

It's not all that great a picture, but I'm in love with it, and with the man who gifted it to me (to us really) for Christmas. We have a few things to tweak in the room, but we're already using this new blessing. 

It's a wonderful life!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

I belong to a wonderful writer's group called Foothills Writers. This year for our Christmas celebration we decided to do something different. Well, the delicious food we shared was the traditional, but the comparisons to Christmases past ended there.

We regifted for our Dirty Santa. You read it right. We brought gifts that we had received from others through the years that we had finished with and were ready to pass along. I had a myriad of such to select from, like shopping in one of those specialty boutiques. Swapping (and Dirty Santa stealing) these gifts resulted in many a laugh.

One other thing, we each were asked to write a Christmas poem. I anguished about this for days. Should it be one of jolly joy, or of reverent faith. When we read our poems aloud to the group, I found a little of both. Mine mingled a little of both as well. It was from the heart and pretty much explains this year's Christmas cheer. 

Here it is, for your Christmas entertainment:

               A CHRISTMAS POEM

          Never did I think there’d ever be 

A year without a Christmas tree.
But this year, it’s not meant to be.

Never did my dad neglect to chop a backfield pine

Though it made my mamma sweep the needles everytime.

He untangled strands of bubble lights

And strung them round to our delight.

My father’s death took out her joy

But the hope of Christmas it did not destroy.

Never did my mom not have the spinning light

To shine on her silver tree at night.

Never did we newlyweds neglect to have a tree

It might have been a Charlie Brown, but it was fine for me.

Our meager gifts we placed beneath

And on our door we hung a wreath.

The babies grew and began to trim.

Year by year through thick and thin

We never didn’t have a tree

But this year, it’s not meant to be.

Off to college they both went

A welcome home tree was our intent.

It cheered them to know they were home

No longer did they have to roam

The tree was where it was meant to be.

It’s shining lights saying come in, let’s see.

Their lives they led apart from us,

Without the tree they would have made a fuss.

Soon our grands were doing the trimming,

Hot chocolate mugs for them were brimming.

But alas, they too have grown and gone

And now we two are back alone.

This year remodeling is our gift

Nothing about that can be swift.

So amidst our mess and moving the clutter

We’ve failed to have a single flutter

Of pine needles and light strings

And ornaments that joy will bring,

Full of memories of years past

Joys and love that long will last.

A ceramic tree we chose to light

It brings color and joy each night.

But still it isn’t quite the same.

In fact it seems a little lame.

Never did I think there’d be 

A year without a Christmas tree.

Yet the spirit of Christmas still lives on

In the night and early dawn.

It’s not the usual, but it will set 

Our focus on the One who paid our debt.

The tree reflects the joy we know.

And sets our hearts at last aglow.

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Thankful

On this 2023 Thanksgiving Day, I am more thankful than ever. I've always felt blessed with my loving husband and children, but something happened to me this fall that has shown me even more what blessings they are to me.

In early September I fell and broke my leg, only I didn't know it was broken. I thought I had twisted my ankle, so I walked on it for ten days until I finally listened to my friends and went to the emergency room for X-rays. Bingo. Broken.

The next day I was at an orthopedic surgeon's and the next, into surgery. Talk about thankful! Physicians and nurses and X-ray technicians were the answers to my prayers. They patched me up and sent me on my way with very specific instructions to not put weight on it.

That meant renting a knee scooter and being thankful such an invention was ever thought of. That also meant my husband became a constant caregiver. I never can say thank you to him enough, or thank you to God enough for sending him to me those fifty-five years ago. We celebrated our fifty-fifth anniversary of "for better or for worse" during this not-so-better time.  My children stepped up and cared for me when he wasn't available. Blessings all around. They pushed me in a wheelchair to my various activities once I was able to be out and about.

Friends, too, took their time pushing me around or catering to my every need. Wow, they were so patient. I went through being a participant in the Mitford GetLit writing conference and a book launch/book signing, all with being good and obeying the doctor's order to keep the weight off my patched leg. 

A friend of mine from Florida makes a yearly journey to be dazzled by the fall leaves (with the rest of the million or so leaf peepers). She carted me around, wheelchair in the back of her car, as we went about our normal tour of local wineries and curvy mountain backroads. Was it just me, being so thrilled to be alive and out in the world after weeks of staying in the house, or were the leaves the best ever?

We made a stop at a wonderful gift shop in Spruce Pine, North Carolina, the Market on Oak Street. They carry my books there and I replenished their supply. I also posed for this picture.

There I am in all my glory, hanging out in my air boot in the children's corner of the store. If you look on the shelf, you'll see how they displayed my books. I'm blessed that others see something of value in my work.

For a special blessing, my Florida friend (Sara) drove us to a winery meet-up with my Ohio friend (Inez). I tried to hide the wheelchair best I could in this picture:

My husband and I started our Christmas shopping right after the doctor gave me the okay sign to start putting weight on it, boot still on leg, however. First stop, Mrs. Hanes cookie store:

Now I'm off the boot, a blessing of its own, and nearly back to normal. I've learned much since this first happened on September 9th. I've learned to be thankful daily, not just on Thanksgiving Day. I've learned to appreciate the plight of handicapped individuals as they move about in society. Staying home would have been so much easier, but I forced myself to suck it up and go on with my life. I admire those people who, despite the cookie that life crumbled on them, persevere and fight on. I now have a greater empathy for them. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

Catch of the day, 

Gretchen

A Week to Remember

In honor of my upcoming seventy-fifth (yes, 75!) birthday, I have ventured into a new style of publishing, Kindle Vella. Actually, Vellas aren't new. They are stories that are released in episodes on a serial basis, a publishing technique used by Charles Dickens years ago, and more recently by Jan Karon, and even more recently by a gaggle of authors, including my Foothills Writers friends. My earlier Vella, Prompt and Circumstances, was my first dabbling into this platform. 

Let me introduce my newest Vella - The Great Donora Smog and Other Grand Stories: A Memoir of Sorts. It's the story of my hometown, Donora, Pennsylvania, framed around my perspective. A tragedy happened the week before I was born. I missed it all, but I've heard about it since I was a young child. I've also researched it for years and now I am ready to share my story with you, one episode at a time.

Like print books and ebooks, a vella has a cover. I chose a photograph I took of my daughter walking behind my husband through the fog.

Okay, so this picture was taken far from Pennsylvania at a favorite spot of mine, Max Patch, in the mountains of western North Carolina, but it conveys an aura around fuzzy images in the distance. The reality of the day I took the picture was that I really, really wanted my daughter to see the spectacular view from the top of this mountain on the Appalachian Trail. Unfortunately, the fog had set in and the view was not even ten feet, much less ten miles. She didn't see anything!

Toward the end of the Donora Smog incident in 1948, people couldn't even see their hands in front of their eyes. The fog they walked through, however, was a smoggy mixture of evil chemicals that killed over a dozen residents before it lifted. Therein is my vella. That and related family stories involving my greats and grands, and how I came to be born in a city in the Monongahela River Valley, and how I came to be raised in North Carolina. 

Add to that picture the title. Voila! The cover:

 

I included the phrase, A Memoir of Sorts, because it is and it isn't my memoir, not in the traditional sense. It's sort of my memoir. I've mixed in various snippings of my life that I actually remember, but much is from life stories of my ancestors told to me over and over, or memories of those who told me about living through the tragedy in my interview with them, or from research I found published by accomplished scientists and journalists. The week I wrote about in my vella was so significant that the Weather Channel featured it in an episode of "When Weather Changed History." It changed my history, of that I am sure. I can't wait for you to read my episodes and see how!

In order to access them, you must have an account with Amazon.com. It's that simple. Click on the link here and it should take you directly to episode one, which is free to all. So are episodes two and three, which you can access through your account. At the end of each episode is a thumbs up. I would appreciate your clicking on it so Amazon/Kindle knows I have readers. Also please click on "follow." That would be so kind!

When you end episode three (the one about my father's side of the family) you will reach a gate that must be unlocked, and to do that you need tokens. You will be able to purchase tokens there on the spot. Follow the directions; it's that simple. Each new episode charges a number of tokens based on the number of words, a token per hundred words, rounded down. 622 words takes six tokens. So does 698. The cool thing is that each token costs a penny. A penny!!! So if unlocking the upcoming episode costs six tokens, that means six cents. Best entertainment ever for the cost! Fifteen tokens, fifteen cents. 

You purchase in lumps of $1.99 for two hundred tokens, so you'll have plenty to use on this vella. You will be able to finish it entirely with tokens left over to browse other vellas.

The best element of the Vellaverse is that authors and readers have a means to interact with each other. At the end of each episode is a comment section for you to talk to me, visit with me, ask questions, tell me your experiences. Please do!

Just in case, here's the link again, The Great Donora Smog and Other Grand Stories: A Memoir of Sorts. Do drop in!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Cover Reveal

It's COUNTDOWN week to launching my newest book, Fly Fishers of the Caldwell County Area, and I'm getting excited. This book has been years in the making, ever since its predecessor (Fly Fishermen of Caldwell County) came out in 2015 and people realized we had left off their family members. The word got out, and here it is...well, here it will be at the book event on Friday, October 6 from 5:00-8:00, I better say p.m. because only these fly fishers would consider having an event at five a.m., on their way to the creek. No, this will be at the HUB, the old Hudson High School Building, on completely dry land, and in the evening.

But first, allow me to reveal the front cover. TA-DA!!!

Unlike the first book, this newest one includes the women who fly fish in the area. We wanted to emphasize the family-ness of the sport and showcase that theme starting from the cover. We chose this photograph of Peyton Beane, granddaughter of Ron Beane who first came up with the concept of a book about individual fly fishers.  

Join us next Friday as we celebrate the fishers and the life stories we captured in the book.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Coming Soon!

Soon after our book, Fly Fishermen of Caldwell County, was released, co-author Ron Beane and I realized we would need to do a follow-up book to fill in the rest of the story. Each time we crossed paths we said, "Next year." Then covid came along. Finally, another fly fishing author, Alen Baker, approached me and with a nod from Ron, we began working on book two. Fly Fishers of the Caldwell County Area. The subtitle tells it all: Life Stories of the Men and Women who Fly Fish in and Around Caldwell County, North Carolina.

Book one was mainly about those legends of fly fishing here in the county. I never claimed it to be a "how-to" book. I always considered it a "how-they" book. The stories were beautiful testimonies to the featured men. 

This new book ventures into the streams to tell the stories of the next generation of fishers, men and women alike. It is more family-oriented, showing how the fishers pass along their passion and their skill to the children and grandchildren in their lives. 

I'm showing a teaser here, the back cover. 

The front cover I'll release next week. I can't wait for you to see it!

We're having a celebration soon, a book launch that will give a proper send-off to the book. October 6, from 5 to 8, during the First Friday event at the HUB, Hudson Uptown Building, in Hudson, NC. Whether you're a fisher or not, please come and visit with those who wrote their life stories. They have some whopper fish stories to tell!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

A Different Kind of Writing

I'm experimenting with something new in my writing life. Kindle Vella. It's actually a long estabised kind of writing that the likes of Charles Dickens once employed - serial writing. His novels started out as weekly newspaper installments, as did Jan Karon's Mitford series, book one.

Now, Kindle Vella offers writers a chance to publish in online episodes rather than print or ebook formats. I'm game!

For several years, I've planned to write my life story, but I'm not ready for that yet. First comes these dabblings into various situations I've experienced. Then will come the biggie, in my second vella coming in October.

My writing career has been enhanced, I'm sure, by my being surrounded by other writers. I'm in a critique group whose members write children's books. I am also with Foothills Writers, a mishmash of talented people who have taught me so much about the writing process. 

Our weekly sessions are well-planned. For the first thirty minutes, we meet and greet and eat whatever lunch or goodies we packed. The last part of the day is the core of the meeting, a skills lesson taught by one of us. Between those two elements, we have what we call, the prompt. As we enter the room we can see the prompt of the week written on the board so we can ponder the topic during mealtime. Sometimes I struggle just to come up with a response to the prompt. There was one, Boxers or Briefs. Major flop for me. 

Our lessons for the past weeks have been about Kindle Vella, and the leader challenged us to create our own vellas using the prompt responses we've written over the years. 

I present to you my vella: "Prompt and Circumstances." It's been my learning curve and already I see things I need to adapt. Link to it here.

Each vella has a shrunken version of a book cover to use as a logo. I wanted something pompous to match the title, something that exuded confidence and variety. I knew exactly the photo I wanted and went searching for it in my photo files, one I had taken several years ago at the Divine Llama Winery here in western North Carolina.

With this regal fellow watching over the episodes, I can't go wrong. Today I'm inviting readers to join me in this new venture. The concept is simple. Read an episode at a time. The first three episodes are free. Only at the fourth level must the consumer pay, and here's how that works.

The consumers purchase tokens from Amazon to unlock each upcoming episode, and they don't need to have a Kindle to access it. Two hundred tokens cost a dollar ninety-nine, which means each token costs a penny! My episodes cost anywhere from six to fifteen tokens, mere pennies! Any leftover tokens are kept in reserve and applied wherever and whichever additional vellas the reader chooses. I only have five episodes posted at this point, so you'll have plenty of extra tokens to explore the vella universe.

If you are game, please go to my vella, Prompt and Circumstances, by clicking here on the link and start reading. The first three are free, so give them a try at no expense. At the end of each, there is a thumbs up to let me someone has been reading. There are also places to comment and interact with me so please go for it if you wish.

You might find out all kinds of things about me!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

PS Here's another llama from the winery I almost used for the cover, but decided against. He was too perky! I needed regal.