Mom’s Favorite Reads eMagazine June 2022 by Mom’s Favorite Reads

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Mary Craig Interviewed by Wendy H. Jones Mary, thank you for joining me in Mom’s Favorite Reads As we will discover you are an extremely busy lady and I appreciate you taking time out to answer my questions for Mom’s readers. I can’t believe there can be anyone who has not heard of you or read your books but just in case I will start with a short bio. Mary W Craig is a writer and historian living and working in Scotland. She is a former Carnegie scholar and a graduate of the University of Glasgow. It is said that there are three types of historians. Some historians are hedgehogs, happily snuffling about rooting out the minutest of historical details. Others are eagles, soaring on high they see the great vistas of historical events. Mary is a magpie: if something shiny and interesting catches her eye she will try to capture it where possible. Her main focus in writing is to explore the lives of extraordinary people who lived through extraordinary times and to bring to life the history of Europe in all its vivid colours.

a friend to this day, who encouraged me to take the disaster and use it to spur me on to improve. I did and my next book, about Mata Hari, was snapped up by the first publisher I approached.

You write narrative non-fiction. What exactly is this? Narrative nonfiction combines elements of creative writing with the relation of facts necessary to create a work of nonfiction. The ‘story’ is factually correct but is written in a creative form. It allows me to ‘create’ the story as my grandfather inspired me to do.

A nice gentle question to start off. How did you come to writing? My grandfather introduced me to Elderpark Library in Govan, Glasgow when I was four years old. He told me that when you read books you can imagine anything in the whole world but if you write books you can create anything in the whole world. I decided then that when I grew up I would write books. This was fostered by my English teacher at school and by the time I was studying history at university I was writing every day. I started writing articles for history journals and magazines. My first attempt at writing a book was a complete disaster but I was fortunate to meet a journalist/author, who remains

Why do you write narrative non-fiction? What is its allure? Narrative non-fiction is an exciting way to tell the ‘story’ contained within history. For example, ‘After William Wallace was executed by the English, Robert the Bruce started to fight for Scottish independence.’ is factually correct but ‘After the English slaughtered William Wallace, the Bruce raised his sword in anger.’ is much more interesting to write -8-

and much more exciting for the reader. History is the story of people long dead, narrative non-fiction brings them back to life

came from a troubled childhood and bad marriage to become world famous. She lived by her own rules, which led to her downfall, and created the persona of Mata Hari. Her life reads like the most extraordinary fictional story and thus, although absolutely true, it is a real page-turner.

You write on diverse topics such as The Borders Witch Hunts and Mata Hari. Why those topics? These two topics although seemingly very different have some interesting parallels. Both involve ordinary women, and men in the case of the Borders Witch Hunt, who were perceived and condemned by society as outsiders. Both books explore how the establishment scapegoated ‘witches’ and Mata Hari for a greater good. The fear of the Devil in the 17th century and the fear of the Germans in the Great War forced ‘witches’ and Mata Hari into the role of a scapegoat and in both cases a court trial took place with little or no evidence and led to an eventual execution. Both are stories of their time but with lessons for us today.

As well as being an author, you are also an archivist. I find this fascinating. What does an archivist do? There are many different types of archivists but historical archivists a) collect and preserve various forms of original historical material, b) maintain that material in physical and digital formats and c) help people to find that material for research and personal reasons.

How do you go about researching for your books? I start by reading around the topic in general books. Then I dive deeper into academic articles. Once I have got that ‘background’ knowledge written up into notes then I find as many primary sources that I can e.g., original trial documents from the witch trials. Once I have read these I go back to my notes from my general reading. I then go back and forth between original documents and background notes until I have distilled the essence of the book.

I know you are passionate about the injustice done to those seen as witches – tell us about this? The women and men who were persecuted as witches were ordinary people who suffered due to the religious and political turmoil of the 17th centuries. The persecution of those women and men is a dark stain on the history of Scotland but one from which we can, hopefully, learn. The lives of the religious and political leaders of the time have been well recorded, I wanted to give the ordinary women and men back their voice and afford them their place in history.

Where is the most interesting place your research has taken you? L’Archive de Quai D’Orsay in Paris where I was allowed not only to see the files on Mata Hari but was given a tour and an in-depth explanation of how the French secret service had worked during the Great War. My guide was an older gentleman whose own grandfather had been a very junior officer at the

Why does Mata Hari make such a good subject for narrative non-fiction? Mata Hari was a good subject because her life was full of mystery and unbelievable incidents. She -9-

Quai at the time of Mata Hari’s trial. Although not involved in her case, my guide’s grandfather has seen her and told the family of the ‘infamous Mata Hari’ and her scandalous ways.

Let’s get personal. On holiday do you prefer mountain or beach? Well, to be honest I prefer cities but I would definitely choose a mountain over a beach.

What’s your favourite food? Now that’s an easy one – Pasta! And I would eat it every day if my waistline would allow.

What are you working on at the moment? I am researching a book about women who were persecuted as witches in Colonial India in the 19th century. I am fortunate to have uncovered a lot of records about the issue in the British Library in London, so a visit down south is on the cards! If Mom’s Favorite Reads, readers could only read one of your books, which one would you recommend they start with? I would recommend reading Borders Witch Hunt. The book is not an easy read but gives the reader a good insight into the society of lowland Scotland in the turbulent 17th century.

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? Amsterdam, it’s my favourite place in the whole world. I try to visit at least once a year if I can.

*** Thank you for your time. It has been so good getting to know you and find out about your books. Good luck with the new project.

What do you like reading in your spare time? I like all sorts of books but mostly historical fiction. My favourite writers are Stefan Zweig and Joseph Roth.

Wendy H. Jones is the award winning, international best-selling author of the DI Shona McKenzie Mysteries, Cass Claymore Investigates Mysteries, Fergus and Flora Mysteries, Bertie the Buffalo children’s books and the Writing Matters books for writers. She is also a writing and marketing coach and the President of the Scottish Association of Writers. As copy editor for Mom’s, she works hard to ensure content is appropriate and free of grammatical and spelling errors. You can learn more about Wendy on her website:

https://www.wendyhjones.com/

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Borders Witch Hunt by Mary W. Craig Reviewed by Wendy H. Jones Blurb

The years between 1600 and 1700 were a period of war, famine, plague and religious upheaval in Scotland. A time when ordinary women, and men, of the Scottish Borders who fell under the suspicion of the Kirk would face interrogation and torture. A time when fear of Auld Nick turned the world upside down and the cry of witch would almost always lead to the rope and the flame. Mary Craig explores this tremulous period of Scottish history and examines the causes and effects of the 17th century witchcraft trials and executions in the Scottish Borders.

Review It is obvious Mary W. Craig has a passion for this topic as that passion shines through on every well written page. The book is extremely well researched and detailed and yet written in such a way it is accessible to the average reader. The facts are weaved in well throughout the narrative making it a fascinating read. I was astonished at how much I did not know about this subject as I, like many others, thought I knew the story well. Be prepared for your assumptions to be challenged; it is clear a number of injustices were carried out in the cases of these men and women. Yes men. That was

one of my assumptions – I thought only women were caught up in this. Craig, a consummate professional and writer, has a way with words which will keep you reading from the first enlightening chapter to the last. Be prepared to learn more than you ever thought you could learn.

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Title A Tangled Web by Mary Stan Phillips W. Craig Reviewed by Wendy H. Jones Blurb

In this new biography, published to coincide with the 100th anniversary of her execution, Mata Hari is revealed in all of her flawed eccentricity; a woman whose adult life was a fantastical web of lies, half-truths and magnetic sexuality that captivated men. Following the death of a young son and a bitter divorce, Mata Hari reinvented herself as an exotic dancer in Paris, before finally taking up the life of a courtesan. She could have remained a halfforgotten member of France’s grande horizontale were it not for the First World War and her disastrous decision to become embroiled in espionage. What happened next was part farce and part tragedy that ended in her execution in October 1917. Recruited by both the Germans and the French as a spy, Mata Hari – codenamed H-21 – was also almost recruited by the Russians. But the harmless fantasies and lies she had told on stage had become part of the deadly game of double agents during wartime. Struggling with the huge cost of war, the French authorities needed to catch a spy. Mata Hari, the dancer, the courtesan, the fantasist, became the prize catch.

Review If you are anything like me, you will remember Mata Hari as a spy and be completely unaware of all her other personas. In this book, Craig brings all those personalities to life allowing the reader a glimpse into a complex woman. It is this complexity

which makes Mata Hari’s life story so compelling. It is obvious a great deal of research has gone into this book and it is this attention to detail which Craig uses to bring Mata Hari to life. A consummate fantasist, she used this to her advantage in all stages of her life, making it difficult for the average person to separate fact from fiction. Craig does so in a way which is compelling and accessible and this book, although slightly academic, makes for fascinating reading. Anyone who has ever wondered about Mata Hari’s story would love this book. If you have never heard Mata Hari’s full story, this book is the perfect place to start.

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The Beginning of the End Submitted by Hannah Howe Written by Rhys Age 14

D-Day Part One “Long sobs of autumn violins,” plays on the radio, Our whispers of freedom begin to amplify, There will be an end to our sorrow, Soon, the Nazi regime will die.

In two weeks Fritz will collapse, In two weeks Normandy will be free, In two weeks their bitter blood will run from the taps, In two weeks Hitler’s torturous command will no longer be.

“Wound my heart with a monotonous languor,” we hear, Although those words fall deaf on corrupt ears,

I do not worry if I am punished,

Our righteous goal is clear,

Nor do I worry about the hound that hunts me,

To give the Nazis hell along with all their peers.

For all tyranny will be vanquished, And we shall raise a toast to our heroic victory.

In twenty-four hours we will fell the trees,

In twenty-four hours we will cause a helluva fuss, In twenty-four hours the Nazi juggernaut will be on its knees, In twenty-four hours we will remove those who persecuted us.

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James T. Mather Interviewed by Sylva Fae Author of Karadas: The Veiled Realm, Spectre of Destiny Firstly, please tell me a little about yourself. What prompted you to write a book? I never imagined myself doing an interview for a book that I had written, but here I am! I’m James, a graphic designer, and I have lived in Nottingham, England since 1976. As well as writing, my spare time is taken up by exploring the countryside with my son, partner and siblings. Football is a sport I watch and play each week, along with tennis and crazy golf as often as possible. When the weather isn’t so good, reading and watching movies is always enjoyable. Sci-fi and fantasy are my favourite genres, along with mysteries and thrillers. Although I had been formulating Karadas in note form and in my mind for some time, (even creating a digital map of the realm) I only began to seriously write the story when the country was forced into lockdown in 2020. Work and normal life ground to a halt. Maybe it was an epiphany, or the thought that this was an opportunity that may never come round again, but I decided to live a little healthier, cut out alcohol, and throw myself into writing Karadas. It wasn’t long before I was hooked, waking each morning and writing throughout the day. I found the task highly relaxing and gave me a real purpose. I had always dreamt of publishing a book, and now I felt I may have the beginnings of a story people might really enjoy reading. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

away from the Titanic, hours before the ship sinks. Lucky escape, right? You would think so. The pair are soon separated when their lifeboat sinks, with Theodore awakening upon the vast, sandy beach of an uncharted realm. With no sign of his younger sister, he begins a fast paced, fascinating journey through Karadas, frantically searching for Minnie, rubbing shoulders with a host of friendly, and far less friendly creatures. He will experience dark magic, mystery, and unspeakable jeopardy at every turn. Can Theodore survive long enough to reunite with his sister, the only remaining member of his family? Where did your inspiration come from? Are you a big reader, or a movie buff?

I grew up watching sci-fi and fantasy films, all of which had none of the amazing special effects of today. That said, the settings and Ray Harryhausen’s stop motion creatures in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Clash of the Titans, and King Kong - among many others - had me utterly captivated. I still go back and watch these films to this day. Star Wars is also a huge draw for me. In terms of reading, The Hobbit, The Magic Faraway Tree, and various Roald Dahl stories were never far from my bedside table in my youth, while more recently I have been unable to put George R. R. Martin’s amazing A Song of Ice and Fire series down. My writing certainly takes ideas from all of these examples.

And what's the book about? The story is aimed at teenagers, although younger readers and adults will find the writing style appealing. Book one begins in 1912 with two young orphaned siblings, Theodore and Minnie Reed, stranded in the Atlantic ocean, accidentally swept

I'm lucky to have already had a sneak peek at book 2, but have you got any plans to develop the series - 14 -

Learn more about the book, explore the map of Karadas, and find links to where you can but a copy at www.jtmather.com And finally, what advice would you give to any readers who have dreams of writing a book? I would say go for it 100%. If I can write a book with no experience or impressive school grades, then you can too. It’s never too early or late to start. Write about what you love and do it for the enjoyment it brings, rather than chasing any dreams of fame and fortune. Create your own style and stick to it. Listen to feedback and advice, but don’t let it sway your gut feeling - if you enjoy reading your work, others will. Do it for yourself, and never give up.

further? Or any new books in the planning? I would love to work on another series connected to Karadas, although presently my attention is on creating a sci-fi story set in the present day. It is currently in the early stages while I work out the plot fully. With the world opening up again, my time spent at the keyboard has sadly been reduced to deal with more responsible tasks (work and those pesky household bills!) But having experienced the joy of creating Karadas, I do not imagine I will ever stop writing. Purely from a therapeutic viewpoint, the practice has altered my life enormously.

The Blurb Not to be missed. An original young adult fantasy adventure. Theodore Reed seems destined to suffer, surviving one harrowing dilemma, only to find himself marooned in quite another. Worse still, his young sister, Minnie, has vanished. He has to find her, no matter the cost. Theodore's frantic search leads him deeper into a remarkable, uncharted realm concealed from the outside world, filled with dark magic, mystery, unspeakable jeopardy, and heart-stopping creatures.

When will your debut book be released and where can we get a copy? I’m very excited to announce that Karadas: The Veiled Realm, Spectre of Destiny, will be available worldwide on June 14th in both paperback and eBook formats. Amazon, Apple, and Barnes & Noble are among the many outlets that the paperback and eBook will be available from.

Can a thirteen-year-old orphan boy from beyond the shores of Karadas possibly survive such a perilous quest?

Sylva Fae is a married mum of three from Lancashire, England. She has spent twenty years teaching literacy to adults with learning difficulties and disabilities, and now works from home as a children’s writer and illustrator. Sylva has published several children’s books and also writes a blog, Sylvanian Ramblings. Her debut book, Rainbow Monsters won the Chanticleer Best in Category award. Discover more about Sylva on Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/sylva-fae/ - 15 -

Conspiracy Test Card 4 by T.E. Hodden

To understand how conspiracy theories grow and thrive, I want to discuss the environment in which they live, how they hunt and prey. To understand that, we need to try and understand a little of how we view history. History, as a field of academic study, is far more than a list of monarchs or presidents learned by rote. It is about trying to build the best, most detailed, three dimensional understanding of an event, to understand something of the lives of those who experienced it. Three dimensional, because history considers how events looked through many different eyes. A battle looks very different not only depending which side you are on, but if you are seeing it from the point of view of one stuck in the trenches, a civilian caught in the way, a general watching from the command post, or somebody reading about it in a newspaper, half a world away. Our understanding develops as archaeologists or archivists discover new evidence that forces us to reassess what any witness had to say on the matter. But the popular understanding of history, we all share is likely very different, and our personal understanding of history is far more likely to be a much narrower view, where fact is jumbled with elements of Hollywood, cliches, and misconceptions. Anything that exists beyond our narrow bandwidth of views is a shadow, existing in the fog. How we treat those strangers when they fall in our view will depend entirely upon how narrow our focus is, and how rigid our preconceptions are.

Pinch the gap until it is too narrow, and we risk being unable to recognise that there are other views at all, let alone imagine how somebody, or something, might look from anywhere but inside our own nook. Out there in the foggy darkness beyond our focus, is where conspiracy theories dwell. You see… not all those shadows dancing and swirling in the fog are historical facts. Some are commonly held misconceptions, the dubious factoids that keep being shared as true. Some are the outlying theories that make for more exciting TV shows than the historical consensus. Some are plain old fashioned lies. But until we turn our focus on them, they are not so easy to see, and they all just look like shadows. Conspiracy theories don’t have to pass for history, or meet the scrutiny of an academic, to snag us, they just have to look enough like history to draw our attention. They just have to make us ask “what if?” Truth isn’t necessarily the quality that draws us to a shadow. There is a certain allure to ideas that resonate with our preconceptions, that fit within, or reinforce, the views we already hold. We more likely to accept, without scrutiny, a story that venerates our hero, or champions our values. Of course, the flip side of this is that truth, or evidence, may not be the reason we reject an idea out - 16 -

of hand, that we are uncomfortable with: the unsavoury realities of our nation’s past or our national heroes.

exposed as nothing more than threadbare speculation. Ideas like there being any ‘question’ over President Obama’s birth certificate, that Nazis were secretly leftist, or indistinguishable from modern liberals, or countless other strange notions masquerade as being viable theories unfairly ignored by the mainstream.

It is all too easy to imagine then, that in these days of polarising politics, of the Culture War and “Alternative Truths”, there might be some value to somebody trying to sway public opinion, not only to present a conspiracy theory as a comforting reinforcement of some bigotry or agenda, but equally, to reduce an obvious or urgent truth (climate change, the nature of a pandemic, unfortunate skeletons in our national closet) to equal footing with a conspiracy theory, or fringe idea, to make it easier to dismiss.

More often than not, these threadbare spectres appeal because they reinforce preconceptions, seed hatred, and widen the divide between different points of view, narrow the bandwidth, and bolster rigid ways of thinking. We are all vulnerable to these angler fish, waiting to entice us, and snare us, in the darkness, but if we know of the danger, we can learn to spot them.

There is a certain power in artificially balancing the scales for popular ideas, to give the impression that they withstand equal scrutiny, in drawing the truth down partisan lines, and discrediting the need for experts or academics.

Keep your bandwidth open to the views of others, trust but verify the things you read, with a little fact checking, and above all, be incredibly cautious whenever it seems that winning the argument is more important than the truth of the argument.

And this is why ideas that are essentially insubstantial, manage to exist long after they have been

T.E. Hodden trained in engineering and works in a specialized role in the transport industry. He is a life long fan of comic books, science fiction, myths, legends, and history. In the past he has contributed to podcasts, blogs, and anthologies. Discover more on Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/t-e-hodden/

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The Bluebell Wood By Naomi Tayler A woman lay on a brown woollen blanket, her grey hair still in the braids her daughter had made that morning. The warm sun gently fell in shafts through the leaves of the tall beech tree above her. Dappled light played upon her face and on the glowing carpet of delicate bluebells which surrounded her. The delicate scent of the flowers enveloped her and filled her lungs with memories, as she listened to the cuckoo calling and the thrush singing and the distant crows conversing in the tree tops. Her pain, an old companion after many years of aching bones, seemed less of a burden here.

to some new marvel as once her own mother had guided her. She breathed in deeply, savouring the perfection of the afternoon. The bluebells - she’d been told once - were the preserve of the faeries. They could take you away to show you unknown wonders, only to return you a thousand years later, to age in an instant as soon as you ate or drank of the mortal world. The English believed that bluebells meant certain death, while the Scots told tales that they brought eternal love. Or was it the other way around? She couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter; neither could she remember in which country this bluebell wood lay. They both agreed, though - if you should hear a bluebell ring, you should run.

The happy voices of her grandchildren playing by the stream brought a smile to her eyes; their mother occasionally calling: ‘Be careful!’, or guiding them

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eyes she knew better than her own, in a face she had seen grow older through the years, until one day it aged no more. Her own blue eyes had shed many tears that day, and for many months afterward. They grew shiny now, at the memory of loss. The fragrance of the bluebells mingled momentarily with the salty aroma of her own tears.

She remembered other bluebell woods, though. The woods she played in as a child, imagining she could hear the faeries laugh as they hid from her. The woods she explored with her own children. Wonderful, timeless, ancient woods, full of badgers and deer and squirrels, and bluebells… always the bluebells.

Then - a warmth. Her pain lessened still more, and she thought she could smell him. She felt his hand on hers. She heard the sound of a tiny bell. She realised… eternal love or certain death need not be a choice. She could have both. She knew then, she would run from neither. ‘I’m ready’, she said. And just like that, the pain became nothing at all.

She heard the laughter now. The laughter of the children, but more than that - the laughter of the chattering stream as the water played on the stones. The laughter in the leaves, and in the flowers… were the voices coming nearer? Now, she remembered a pair of kind eyes. Brown

Naomi Tayler lives with her husband, three children, and border collie Loki in central Scotland. She loves being outdoors, spending her spare time volunteering with a local conservation group or developing outdoor skills. She also enjoys embroidery, and she helps run several online groups. - 19 -

The Bluebell Wood by Naomi Tayler

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Refreshing Summer Salad Submitted by Chantal Bellehumeur Delicious, healthy, and filling Portion:

2 large servings, or 4 small ones Ingredients: •

1 mango

•

2 avocados

•

2 tomatoes

•

50g of Feta cheese

•

Raspberry balsamic vinegar -Dice the tomatoes and slide the pieces (and juice) from the cutting board into the bowl.

You will also need: •

1 large salad bowl (to mix)

•

1 mixing spoon

•

1 Peeler

-Cut up as much feta cheese as you like and slide the pieces from the cutting board into the bowl.

•

1 knife

(I usually use about 1/3 of a 150g block.)

•

1 cutting board

•

2-4 Individual sized salad bowls

-Pour about 10ml of raspberry balsamic vinegar into the bowl and mix everything with the spoon.

-Divide the content of the salad bowl into 2-4 individual bowls.

Instructions: -Peel and dice the mango and slide the pieces from the cutting board into the bowl.

ENJOY!

-Peel and dice the avocados and slide the pieces from the cutting board into the bowl. - 22 -

Paul’s Puzzles By Paul Godding The Main Challenge

The Lagrange Challenge

Using the numbers 3, 6 and 6 just once each, and with + – × ÷ available, which THREE of the following target numbers are NOT mathematically possible to achieve?

Lagrange’s Four-Square Theorem states that every positive integer can be made by adding up to four square numbers. For example, 7 can be made by 2²+1²+1²+1² (or 4+1+1+1).

1 2 3 4 6 8 9 12 15 18 21 24

There are FOUR ways of making 119 when using Lagrange’s Theorem. Can you find them?

This is from our innovative board game, Mathematically Possible, details of which can be found by visiting the game’s own website.

The Mathematically Possible Challenge The 7puzzle Challenge The playing board of the 7puzzle game is a 7-by-7 grid containing 49 different numbers, ranging from 2 up to 84.

Using 2, 4 and 12 once each, with + – × ÷ available, which THREE numbers is it possible to make from the list below?

The 5th & 6th rows contain the following fourteen numbers:

#7TimesTable

7 14 21 28 35 42 49 56 63 70

5 6 7 12 16 18 20 21 33 49 50 56 81 84

The Target Challenge

Which number, when adding 50 to it, becomes a square number?

Can you arrive at 119 by inserting 2, 6, 9 and 11 into the gaps on each line? (◯+◯)×(◯–◯) = 119

***

◯×◯×◯+◯ = 119

Solutions: http://7puzzleblog.com/answers/

Hello, my name is Paul Godding. I am a full-time professional private maths tutor based in the south-east of Wales who delivers face-to-face tuition locally as well as online tuition to students globally. It would be lovely to hear from you, so feel free to click paul@7puzzle.com if you wish to secure maths tuition for you or your child. Alternatively, you can ring/message/WhatsApp me from anywhere in the world:

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Living with Lupus by Sheena Macleod Finally, suspecting that I might be starting the menopause, I made an appointment to see a doctor. After blood and other tests, I was shocked to be told that I had lupus and was to be referred to a rheumatologist. While it was good to finally know what had been causing my lack of energy, the diagnosis knocked me. Like many others diagnosed with a long term condition, it took time for me to accept and then to adapt to living with lupus. Lupus is a chronic autoimmune disorder. The immune system, which is designed to protect the body, instead turns against itself. Over time, this damages parts of the body depending on which organs, tissues or joints are affected. As there is a wide variability in symptoms and experiences no two people experience the disorder in the same way. No one knows yet what causes lupus– worldwide, 5 million people are diagnosed with this condition. By far the greatest majority are women. Genetics seem to play a part. As stated earlier, my mother had been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, another autoimmune disorder. So this makes sense in terms of me developing an autoimmune disorder too. I was genetically predisposed to lupus and then this was triggered by something which happened in my life, such as hormonal changes, life stresses or a virus or other form of infection.

In my forties, I was diagnosed with lupus. I had started feeling excessively tired all the time. As a full time working mum, I questioned whether I had been overdoing things, taking on too much. But extra work had never bothered me before. I’d always been an extremely organised and active person. Nothing was too much bother, and I slept like a log when I did sleep. I tried to shake off this new feeling of tiredness and keep going. As well as working full time as a lecturer and looking after my own family, I was also the main carer for my mum, who had rheumatoid arthritis. The feeling of being fatigued much of the day remained and sleep didn’t help. I was just as tired when waking as I was when going to bed. Fatigue became my constant companion and it became an effort to do things that I had previously carried out without much thought.

Lupus affects me both physically and emotionally. I take medication daily and this helps to manage the symptoms, and by-and-large keep them at bay. My main breakthrough symptom is fatigue. Fatigue is different from tiredness, which is a feeling of being sleepy and a desire to sleep. The only way I can describe the fatigue I experience is to say it is like constantly having to carry around a dead weight which causes a feeling of heaviness in the muscles of my - 24 -

arms, shoulder, neck and legs which leaves me feeling depleted of energy. This can make it hard for me to carry out manual tasks or even to socialise effectively, as this is often accompanied by a feeling of ‘brain fog’ which makes it difficult to find the words I’m looking for. The way I manage fatigue is to try to know in advance when I am going out and rest up beforehand. Pre-planning for social events and activities, so that I don’t have to rush about, seems to help. When I have been particularly busy, I rest up afterwards and try not to take too much on. I don’t like letting people down, and worry that people see me as inconsistent or misunderstand my reluctance to do things without advance warning or that I won’t have the energy to see through the things that I have agreed to. Time to recharge my ‘battery’ is now a necessary part of life to minimalise the experience of fatigue and exhaustion.

sunlight. Not easy for a sun lover. This manifests as feeling too hot, rashes on the face and neck and dark pigmented areas on my face and hands. To manage this, I always wear a high factor sun cream, even in winter. I can also experience the typical butterfly rash which extends over my nose and cheek. Having a weakened immune system means it is harder for me to fight infections. When I get a cold or a virus, it seems to last longer than it does for other people and is more difficult to fight off. A balanced diet, plenty of rest, adequate hydration and light exercise are important to maintaining my health and reducing the symptoms associated with lupus. There are different forms of lupus, and treatment varies due to the variability of symptoms. I was diagnosed with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE) which is the most common type. Despite the symptoms I do experience, I consider myself lucky. So far this has not included any joint pains. I’m also lucky to have an understanding and supportive family and a group of friends who accommodate me during the times when I do feel fatigued.

I also experience the photosensitivity associated with lupus, which means I have to stay out of direct

Sheena Macleod gained a PhD in Mental Health Nursing and an

MSc in Advanced Mental Health Practice from the University of Dundee where she lectured in Mental Health Nursing. She is trained in CBT. When she was diagnosed with lupus, Sheena retired from teaching.

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Around America in 50 Books by Wendy H. Jones

Colorado

Dying for Chocolate by Diane Mott Davidson Regular readers of this series will know I love a cozy mystery. My other great love is chocolate, so when I get to combine them, I am in seventh heaven. What’s not to like in a book titled Death by Chocolate?

death was no accident, Goldy begins to sift through the dead doc’s unpalatable secrets. But this case is seasoned with unexpected danger and even more unexpected revelations—the kind that could get a caterer killed.

Blurb Goldy Bear is the bright, opinionated, wildly inventive caterer whose personal life is a recipe for disaster, with bills taking a bite out of her budget and her abusive ex-husband making tasteless threats. Determined to take control, Goldy moves her business to the ritzy Aspen Meadow Country Club. Soon she’s preparing decadent dinners and posh society picnics—and enjoying the favors of Philip Miller, a handsome local shrink, and Tom Schulz, her more-than-friendly neighborhood cop. Until, that is, the dishy doctor drives his BMW into an oncoming bus. Convinced that Philip’s bizarre - 26 -

Review I love the Goldy Schulz mysteries, and this one is no exception. Goldy is a cracking character – effervescent and full of life. Her personality leaps from every page and ensnares itself around your heart and mind. Every other character is equally quirky, and I found myself warming to them and loathing them in turn. Whatever way the reader may feel about them the characters are well drawn and realistic. The plot rattles along at a pace one would expect from a cozy mystery – it’s more a gentle romp than an on the edge of your seat ride – but it still held me enthralled and I definitely wanted to continue reading. As a bonus you get recipes thrown in, although, for British readers, the measurements are American measurements. What of the Colorado setting? Yes, having moved from California in last month’s review, I definitely knew I was somewhere different. I greatly enjoyed this book and can recommend it for a fun read.

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Using Numbers in Flash Fiction by Allison Symes It may seem odd to use numbers in prose but they have their uses. I’ve used random number generators to select numbers to use for stories. Some uses for numbers in fiction include the following.

1. The number is used as a countdown. I once generated the number 314 which works out as five minutes and fourteen seconds. That doesn’t give much time for a character to do something, especially if they’re stressed or in danger. It does make a perfect countdown and tension builder though. 2. The number is used as an address where something must happen. What does go on behind 314 Wisteria Street, for example? Who lives there? Why does this address matter? You can also get a character to get the number wrong here what would be the consequences? There is potential for comedy too. 3. The lead character fears a certain number, which is exploited by other characters. 4. The numbers refer to money, which can be the basis for a crime story or a disputed inheritance tale. 5. I’ve sometimes used a number as the story title and then worked out what that number would mean to a character. 6. You can use a number as a period of time. Twenty-four would be a good one, as on seeing that, especially as a title, the first thing most people would think of would be time. You could use that as the TV series of the same name did. There are options then and, aptly, a good number of them! Having a character with a love or fear of a number can help make them seem more real to readers. So many consider the number thirteen unlucky, for example, so if you had a character with that same feeling, many readers would identify with them.

You could have a character determined to prove another one wrong on that number being unlucky. You have a conflict immediately - and only one of the characters can be right for the purposes of your story so which one would it be and why? Even more interesting would be to have a character who fears a number not usually associated with bad luck and which is specific to them. What are their unhappy associations with their number and can that be broken? That could make an intriguing story. So the challenge this time is to pick a number and work it into your story. It should be clear by the end why it had to be that number. I’m using my number as the title as well. Usual word count is 300 words maximum but mine comes in at about half of that. As ever, don’t “stretch” the story to reach 300 words. If it works fine at 150 or so, send it in at that. A story is complete when the “action” is complete for the character. - 28 -

116

Edna vanished. Her home wasn’t on this planet any more.

Edna walked past the Victorian semi-detached house, knowing it was for the last time. How many years had she lived here?

Ends.

Far too many to remember but 116 Baywater Street would always be home to her, even when the wrecking ball, due to start work in an hour, had finished its beastly business. The place would be down by the end of the day. So many years to build the place and less than twenty-four hours to destroy it.

Just to finish, numbers come into flash fiction as a format. The fifty word stories are known as dribbles. My favourite, the one hundred word tales are known as drabbles. It was the drabble that got me into flash fiction writing so I have a soft spot for it and I regularly write to this word count. This makes me a flasher, a dribbler, and a drabbler but I’m not putting that on my business card any time soon!

Still, it was for the best, Edna knew. Subsidence had done its work and there was no way the place could be saved. Fortunately, she’d been spared seeing that as there was another reason she knew there was nothing she could do. She had moved on and now finally it was time to let go and be at peace. She’d had enough of restless walking. It was time to be free.

Happy writing and I look forward to seeing which numbers you use in your stories. Ends Allison Symes – 27th April 2022

Allison Symes, who loves reading and writing quirky fiction, is published by Chapeltown Books, CafeLit, and Bridge House Publishing. Her flash fiction collections, Tripping The Flash Fantastic and From Light to Dark and Back Again are out in Kindle and paperback. She has been a winner of the Waterloo Arts Festival writing competition three years in a row where the brief was to write to a set theme to a 1000 words maximum. Website: https://allisonsymescollectedworks.com/

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(two, ugly), and three balls for Cinderella’s family; three tasks for multiple heroes to accomplish the seemingly impossible daring deeds required of them all, and three days to guess the name of Rumpelstiltskin.

Numbers

There were three good fairies at Sleeping Beauty’s christening. Goldilocks broke into the house of the three bears where she tried three chairs, three bowls of porridge and three beds. The wicked Queen made three attempts on Snow White’s life; Jack traded the family cow for three magic beans and stole three treasures from the giant at the top of the beanstalk.

The Power of Three By Jenny Sanders

The Little Match Girl saw three visions before encountering her grandmother in one; and the soldier in The Tinder Box discovered three rooms full of three different riches guarded by three dogs. And we mustn’t forget Baa, Baa Black Sheep who, even now, children assure us, has three sacks of wool for three specific customers. Life is full of threes: land, sea and sky; the heavens, the earth and under the earth; earth, wind and fire. Our Judeo-Christian tradition tells us about the triune God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit who stepped into His creation to win us back when evil threatened to permanently sever our relationship. This third daughter believes that’s a happy beginning as well as a happy ending. The Sixth By Maresa Mortimer

Even children know that every story requires three elements: a beginning, a middle and an end. From oral tradition and the masters of fairy tales, we have unconsciously inherited the fascinating and unchanging power of three. Two’s company; three’s a crowd and a pattern. There were three blind mice; three little pigs, three Billy Goats Gruff, and three wishes from the genie in the lamp – don’t waste them! Three sisters - 30 -

Would another day have been different? It wasn’t meant to be the sixth. It should have been earlier, but would it have changed any of this? Looking at the long, neat rows, some with coloured flowers to soften the glaring white, she wonders. If the weather hadn’t been so rough, would it have been easier to run into the surf, making them reach the shore quicker, steadier on their feet ? She looks again at the ages, although the ones on the third row she knows without looking down. Seventeen, nineteen, children really. One junior officer at twenty-three. Did they know, the morning of the sixth? Were they relieved to finally get going, to see some action, or had they secretly prayed for the weather to get worse so they could return to barracks and get warm? Or like most youngsters, did they expect to live, to fight, and to win? She sighs as she looks around, the field quiet and lovely in the sunshine. She can hear birds, a butterfly flits past, and nearby bushes hum with visiting bees. So peaceful. So blissfully unaware of the day engraved on the white crosses as well as many hearts, though fewer each year. June 6th. She shudders as her mind wanders through history to that one day, unwilling to dwell there. This field is all she needs to know about that day. Would another day have been different? Number Five By Sylva Fae Five has always been my favorite number, a lucky number even. It was this thought that made me smile, as I counted aloud my steps into the woods 553, 554, 555…ouch! I bumped into something hidden in the long ferns. Brushing aside leafy fronds revealed a half-buried stone. It looked like a long-since toppled gatepost, but it now served as a convenient seat to nurse

my bruised toes.

I ran my hand over the soft moss onto the cool stone and felt slight indentations. Peeping out from behind a mossy clump, was a carving of sorts, so worn by time it was hard to make out. I brushed away the dirt – a five! It looked like a five and flowers, maybe some letters. Gateposts signified an entrance to something more exciting, but where? I’d tramped through these woods many times and never seen any houses. I looked around. The woodland floor was thigh-high in foliage, but there did seem to be a long gap through the trees – could it be an overgrown path? I paused momentarily, would Mum mind me going so far? The anticipation of adventure won, and I waded through, careful to avoid the thorny brambles. The dense thicket suddenly opened into a bright clearing, and there, hidden in the woods, was a wonky old cottage. Fragrant wild roses wove around trellises surrounding a blue wooden door, its number 5 glinting in the sunshine, and roses carved into the stone lintel intertwined with letters – 5, Rose Cottage. “Tea time! Come back now!” Mum’s voice echoed through the trees. I turned away, reluctant to head home, but reassured that I could return later. *** I never did find my way back, but closer inspection of the gatepost revealed it wasn’t a gatepost after all, but a rose-carved lintel. - 31 -

Breathe by Becky Hemsley

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Breathe A poem by Becky Hemsley, taken from the book Talking to the Wild Talking to the Wild is a poetry collection, the bedtime stories that we were likely never told as children but that can bring us comfort, joy, healing, peace and gentle reminders as we grow. Some days you’ll need comfort, some days you’ll need joy, and some days you’ll just need to feel heard. Validated. Seen. And I hope that’s what this book gives to you. I hope you get lost in the words and find yourself.

You can hear Becky reading her poems on TikTok. @talkingtothewild https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM87scaJe/ Or see more on her Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/talkingtothewild/ https://bookgoodies.com/a/B09JM7KJRQ

Becky Hemsley is an empowered romantic with a hint of magic. She is from middle England and writes her poetry with her own accent in mind. Wherever, or however you read her poems, the message is the same; the story is about you.

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Europe by Book by Hannah Howe wonderfully inspiring book about a magical part of the world’ Viv Groskop, author of The Anna Karenina Fix ‘Part travelogue, part recipe book, this is a love letter to “the sea that welcomes strangers”, soaked in colour, history, myth and the flavours of many cultures. ‘ Nick Hunt author of Where the Wild Winds Are This is the tale of a journey between three great cities – Odessa, built on a dream by Catherine the Great, through Istanbul, the fulcrum balancing Europe and Asia and on to tough, stoic, lyrical Trabzon. With a nose for a good recipe and an ear for an extraordinary story, Caroline Eden travels from Odessa to Bessarabia, Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey’s Black Sea region, exploring interconnecting culinary cultures. From the Jewish table of Odessa, to meeting the last fisherwoman of Bulgaria and charting the legacies of the White Russian émigrés in Istanbul, Caroline gives readers a unique insight into a part of the world that is both shaded by darkness and illuminated by light. Meticulously researched and documenting unprecedented meetings with remarkable individuals, Black Sea is like no other piece of travel writing. Packed with rich photography and sumptuous food, this biography of a region, its people and its recipes truly breaks new ground.

Black Sea by Caroline Eden

The next best thing to actually travelling with Caroline Eden – a warm, erudite and greedy guide – is to read her. This is my kind of book. ‘ Diana Henry ‘A

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love, courage, and a female ambulance driver who risks everything. In 1917, after Arlene Favier’s home burns to the ground, taking her father with it, she must find a way to support her mother and younger brother. If she doesn’t succeed, they will all be impoverished. Job opportunities are scarce, but then a daring possibility arises: the American Women’s Hospital needs ambulance drivers to join a trailblazing, all-female team of doctors and nurses bound for war-torn France.

Mercy Road by Ann Howard Creel

On the front lines, Arlene and her fellow ambulance drivers work day and night to aid injured soldiers and civilians. In between dangerous ambulance runs, Arlene reunites with a childhood friend, Jimmy Tucker, now a soldier, who opens her heart like no one before. But she has also caught the attention of Felix Brohammer, a charismatic army captain who harbors a dark, treacherous secret. To expose Brohammer means risking her family’s future and the promise of love. Arlene must make a choice: stay in the safety of silence or take the greatest chance of her life.

Inspired by the true story of the World War I American Women’s Hospital, Mercy Road is a novel about

Hannah Howe is the author of the Sam Smith Mystery Series, the Ann's War Mystery Series and the #1 international bestseller Saving Grace. Hannah's books are published by Goylake Publishing and distributed through Gardners Books to over 300 outlets worldwide. Her books are available in print, as eBooks and audiobooks, and are being translated into ten languages. Discover more on Mom's Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/hannah-howe

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Nature Photography by Melanie P. Smith

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https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/melanie-p-smith/

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Writing Prompt By Angela Abraham

Descriptionari Quotes and Descriptions to Inspire Creative Writing

"machine" is causing damage, that we aren't supposed to be "cogs." Perhaps the "odd ones" are there to bring us the rare victories, the "odd win."

Discover, Share, Connect Creativity is the weaving of random into a new and wonderful dish. Descriptionari helps you to fill up your idea cupboard with new ingredients, unleashing your inner Masterchef! And so, in keeping with our fantastic flash fiction theme ‘Numbers’, tongue firmly in our extended-pun-cheek, here are a few nibbles!

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, June 10, 2019. One day I found a two pence piece, and so if a penny is good luck, I guess two pence is twice as lucky. By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, March 21, 2020.

Forty-two is the number that signifies the meaning of life, it is also the age when the human brain reaches optimal maturity. By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, October 10, 2020.

So, why is the "odd one" always "out"? Why isn't the phrase, "The odd one shines," or "The odd one brings new perspectives and opportunities." Surely we need a culture that embraces the different, for how else are we to elevate ourselves as a species and learn? Because until we truly embrace diversity as strength and individuality as marvellous - nobody really belongs, we all simply "fit in" as cogs in some machine that don't quite see what we are a small part of. It is those "odd ones" who step out from the machine and look back in horror, who desperately try to warn the others that the

On Descriptionari there are over 19k ideas all free to check out (taking the pun bow now, tee hee). https://www.descriptionari.com/

Happy writing! Angela Abraham - 38 -

Joyce in the Kitchen By Jenny Sanders Well now, here’s an old memory that’s just jumped out at me. You never know when they’re going to do that, do you? It can be quite unnerving. This is how I used to spend every Tuesday morning: baking. Up to my elbows in flour and what-not, regular as clock-work, churning out cakes, biscuits and pies for the family. I was very organised once upon a time; mind you, I had to be. Monday was laundry day; Tuesday baking; Wednesday was cleaning up from Tuesday – my word, that cooker saw some action. Thursday, I did my skirting boards and vacuuming; Friday was shopping for the next week and my windows if there was time. Quite a timetable. I don’t know how people do it nowadays. I mean they’re out at work all day aren’t they? When do they ever dust the top of their door frames or scrub the front step, I’d like to know.

underneath. Haven’t seen one of those for a while either. She had big hands, my mum; strong as an ox she was. My grandfather was a farmer, and she grew up working in the fields, barns and yards alongside her brothers. She would have learned her cooking from my grandmother though. My recollection is that Granny Wilson pretty much lived in the kitchen, preparing and cooking the most enormous meals for her boys, and mum of course; fuel for all that manual labour. That was a tough life; long hours in all weathers.

It’s all different these day, anyway; people have help in, or machines that take the strain. I know I was over the moon when Tom bought me my first twin tub. What a luxury! My Mum took hours on our laundry, what with soaking and boiling and rinsing, and then she had to put everything through the heavy mangle before hanging it on the line. Heaven help us if it rained. No tumble driers in our street. My goodness, that was a palaver! She’d get us to help her in the school holidays. I remember standing on my tiptoes wrestling with that big, stiff handle; using all my effort to turn it. Usually she’d get exasperated, sigh at us, bustle us out of the way and do it herself. Much quicker.

It’s her recipe I’m still using now. I like that. It's a thread from the past; a connection with generations long gone. Hark at me, getting all whimsical and soppy. Pull yourself together Joyce; where are you up to now? Let’s get this pastry rolled out properly. This is Mum’s rolling pin as well. ‘You can’t get better than marble’, she used to say. ‘Keeps the pastry cool, and mighty useful if you ever have burglars.’ Can you imagine?! I can’t think any intruder would have been brave enough to face her once she was brandishing this. I wouldn’t have put it past her to use it if she had to though.

Poor old Mum. There would be washing hanging up in the kitchen steaming from the warm range - 40 -

She hated bullies, did Mum. She had a rule that if we were ever caught bullying someone, she’d have our guts for garters. Whatever that means. But, if someone tried to bully us, she gave full permission to lam’ them one. You don’t hear that expression any more either. Lam’ them: ‘lamp them’ it is really, or so I found our years later, though who knows where that came from? In other words, give ‘em one back; deck ‘em; or at least, take a free hit. I can’t see modern parents using that advice anymore, or teachers appreciating it for that matter. These days they want you to feel sorry for them and offer a trip to the zoo. Since when did rewarding bad behaviour do anyone any favours? I don’t understand it.

summer fête on Saturday. I always make one for them. Back in the day, when Tom was still alive and the kids at home, I’d make a couple: one for us and one for them. He loved an apple pie did Tom. He’d always tell me that no one made a pie as well or that tasted as good as mine, the big softie. That’s something that probably hasn’t changed through all of history: the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. Let me just get this top on and I’ll pop it in the oven. Steady, Joyce. This is the tricky bit. I’ve been known to drop it on the floor at this point, especially now my hands get a bit shaky from time to time. Getting old isn’t for sissies, so they say; they’re not wrong. There we go. I’ll just seal these edges down with a bit of milk. That’s it. Now a quick pattern round the edge with my trusty knife and I’m done.

Oh, look at me working myself up. I’ve ruined this now. Roll it, Joyce, don’t stretch it. There you go. It’s salvageable, thank goodness. This pie is for the - 41 -

It’s very soothing baking a pie, I must say. I must have made hundreds of these over the years but I still say there’s nothing like a bit of home cooking. Oh, I know you can buy all sorts in the supermarket these days: ready meals, zap-it-in-the-microwave meals, take-away meals, meals in sachets, just add milk or whatever. It’s not the same though is it? They’re all full of E numbers and lists of ingredients I can’t even pronounce. That can’t be good for you, can it? I reckon the less you mess about with it, the better it must be for you. Stands to reason.

I wonder whether they do it for theirs now?

She would always make a bee-line to the secondhand books and Matthew loved the coconut shy. He won one once. He was made-up when he carried that hairy thing all the way home again; like the cat who found the cream. Blow me if we could get into it though! I think Tom took a hammer to it in the end, so it ended up in pieces, but Matthew managed to save the milk inside before it dripped all over the work bench. I don’t think he really enjoyed it, but of course he would have died rather than admit to that.

Right, that’s that done. Into the oven you go. Now, I can wash my hands and sit down for half an hour while it cooks. That should be just right for the fête. We used to take Matthew and Corinne and spend a happy afternoon wandering round the stalls. The kids saved their pocket money and sometimes Tom would give them a bit extra. I remember, he said his own grandad used to slip him a shilling when he was a lad and the fair came to town. He said he felt like a king with so much money in his pocket. I think he liked to continue the tradition for our kids. - 42 -

There were races for the children then. You’re probably not allowed those anymore in case someone falls over or comes last and can’t handle it. Well, you have to learn it sometime in life, might as well be when you’ve got your family to pick you up and dust you off, I think. Tom used to take his jacket off and get involved with the egg and spoon race. He was champion at that. I’m pretty sure he cheated but he never let on, and it was all good fun. I’d take the opportunity to sit down with a cuppa and watch all the locals. That’s some of the best entertainment you’ll ever find, watching folk. What funny people we are. Some dressed up to the nines; the gossips; the ones who thought they were too good to be there; the kids who took part in everything hyped up on sugar and just pleased to be out of the classroom and in the fresh air. Always something or someone to look at. We’ve always been lucky with the weather, I must say. Only one year that I can remember it was rained off completely. My pie must have been soggy that year!

them down to the ground though. Just needs to cool on the rack.

Oh well; there’s the timer. Where did I put the oven gloves? Careful Joyce. Oooh; it’s a beauty. Look at that golden crust!

Perfect timing; my quiz show is just about to start on the telly. I'll go and see whether my brain is less shaky than my hands are.

No point making two any more; it’d take me a fortnight to get through it on my own. This will suit

Jenny Sanders is a writer, speaker, encourager and mentor and mother of four grown-and-flown children which gives her more time for writing, reading and walking in nature whenever she can. She’s married to an adventurous change-agent with whom she’s travelled around the world. For the past several years she’s lived between the beautiful cities of Bath, UK and Cape Town, S Africa and blogs at Dancing Through Chaos https://dancingthroughchaos.wordpress.com/about/ - 43 -

Seed Fairy — Dandelion by Alison Rasmussen Oh, so long ago a lovely collection of seeding dandelions were collected and collated into a collage. The perfect store for my Seed Fairy’s fashion inspirations. She wears fluffing dandelions in her hair, a pretty petalled gown and dusty moth wings. She is ready for the fairy ball. Or so you’d like to think. But no, she is the worlds biggest trickster as she loves to hide out of sight and have seeds rain down on any unsuspecting fairy she takes a shine to. You’ll meet that fairy next time. I drew her using aged flowers that had been collected and displayed in a picture frame. The dried fluff on a dandelion is perfect and I began with graphite with the idea that I would finish with coloured pencil. I love to draw in graphite, but I know colour would enhance a lovely fairy, so I decided to make my graphite work as an under drawing and then I can add colour later.

and work at different angles and pressure to get some interesting effects. The frothy hair was made with twists and flicks, the smooth skin was made by transferring graphite from the pencil via the paper to the tornichon – I find this so much smoother than lines – especially for such a small face.

Grey scale underpaintings are a useful step towards your finished piece as you can solve quite a lot of problems at an early stage. I always find this part relaxing. I think giving yourself freedom to make mistakes is very important to enjoying the process – art shouldn’t be stressful. I find painting stressful as I’m not a painter and this is my answer. And once the graphite drawing is ready, I scan a slightly paler version of it and print it on the same good quality paper so I can then continue safely adding colour to the drawing. Colour pencil directly over graphite is not a good idea – it looks dirty and you can ruin quite a lot of effort that way.

As I refined the sketch, I noticed that the proportions needed a little attention, her neck was a little too big and her jaw too manly, so I slimmed that down and sharpened her jaw – something I would have struggled with had I dived straight in with coloured pencil. I continued this way until I was satisfied that she was believable. This particular fairy is based on human anatomy and so I used a selection of references that helped me check that she was correct. I find manga and anime art is very helpful with this sort of project because it is very dynamic. I continued working on her skirt – which is an inverted flower, and I made plump petals to give it a bell shape. I gave it movement by pushing them

Going back to the initial graphite I used a few mark making techniques that I find work quite well with graphite pencils. You can get them reliably sharp - 44 -

There is still a lot of work to do at this stage. Make no mistake, it is not colouring in. The graphite is an underpainting and I’ll probably be here a while!

forward to show she was flying, and they were interreacting with her lower body. Her legs were loosely based on flower stems.

I’m using subdued colours for this fairy. Medium terracotta, Lincoln green, and a mix of browns. Understanding the colours will be helpful. Greens and reds are complimentary colours so tend to make each other appear brighter if they are next to each other. You can also use a red to mute a green – or vice versa – if your colour looks too bright. Mixing them creates different browns depending on the type of red and green you choose. I think this can make colours marry nicely as your parent colours will work without too much trouble with the brown you made them with.

Since I have other plans, there is no point trying to finish this as a very detailed graphite drawing, so I scanned it, and printed it on to the same paper I used for the first stage. I added some pale layers of browns and reds and greens. Too many colours are likely to spoil the drawing and I like to use Autumnal colours for this type of creature so I am keeping it simple. I think a mix of different browns can look so lovely, and I’m pretty sure this is why I get so much inspiration from Froud and Rackham as their work features these colours a lot. I like working with muted tones. They seem more delicate to me. More subtle. They are not as simple as they look, but it’s nice that they give that impression.

https://folksy.com/shops/PaynesGreyArtShop www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PaynesGreyArtShop

Alison Rasmussen is a self-taught illustrator who also loves to write. She creates fantasy creatures and whimsical gothic art and is writing a ghost story where lots of her characters go to play. She’s done illustration work for children’s stories and a zombie series, and is now illustrating her own story, just for fun. Alison has a young son and works at home, running her online art shop and creating art to go in it. When she isn’t writing about her imaginary world of ghosts, she works on improving her drawing with traditional media - mainly graphite, soft pastels, and coloured pencil. She gets inspiration from Asian art, anime, fairies, and folklore. https://paynesgreyillustration.com/ - 45 -

Birthstone Crystal Grids by Lisa Shambrook June — Pearl One of June’s birthstones is a naturally occurring gemstone created by living ocean creatures, oysters and clams. Pearls fill my Midsummer crystal grid for Balance and Harmony at the point in the year between light and dark. A pink Sea Urchin and a spiral shell centres this grid and local cockle and sea snail shells and pebbles surround the gems. Freshwater Pearls bring integrity, balance, and harmony. Rainbow Moonstone offers personal growth, creativity, and perception. And Pink Agate, Gemini's zodiac stone gives healing, happiness, and security. Listen to the ocean as the waves lap and find yourself in a place of peace.

Crystal Grids made by Lisa Shambrook for mindfulness, meditation, and art. Prints of some grids are available at:

www.amaranthalchemy.etsy.com.

You can find out more about the sensory author and artist, who will lift your spirit, steal your heart, and ignite your imagination at: www.lisashambrook.com. She also loves dragons and squirrels.

Lisa Shambrook is an author, artist, and dreamer who loves dragons. Born and raised in vibrant Brighton, England, living by the ocean heavily influenced her lyrical and emotional writing. She now lives in Carmarthen, West Wales, another town rich in legend and lore. A sensory writer, Lisa delves into sensitive subject matters that will lift your spirit and steal your heart.

Find out more at her website lisashambrook.com and her Etsy shop

amaranthalchemy.etsy.com - 46 -

Chess Supplied by Chess.Com Checkmate in four. White to move.

Supplied by https://chess.com the #1 chess website. Used with permission. For more chess puzzles please visit https://chess.com

You can find answers for this activity on Page 73 - 47 -

Nature Photography Day by Melanie P. Smith

June 15th

How to Celebrate….

Cover design created to Nature Photography

Nature Photography Day was created to learn more about nature during the warm months of summer. It doesn’t matter if you’re a professional or if you’ve never taken a photo before. Get out in nature and start snapping pictures. It’s the adventure, not the destination — or in this case, the results. Photography is one of my favorite hobbies. There’s nothing like getting out into nature. I love the feel of fresh air and a slight breeze gliding over my arms on a hot summer afternoon, the sun beating down on my face and the smell of wild flowers. And I love to capture those memories in a photo. If you’ve seen my work, you may have realized the images I enjoy the most are wildlife and nature photography. There is just something special about a majestic elk in the wild, or a glorious sunset after a long day. I hope you will take this month to experiment & have fun.

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Take some time this month to go on a walk. Nature doesn’t have to mean a long trip into the wilderness. Most of us have walking trails just a few minutes away. Grab your camera and go explore.

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Gather your friends, take a day trip, bring a picnic and a camera. If you don’t have a camera, bring your phone. It’s not necessary to start big, just snap some photos and have fun.

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Remember, nature encompasses all natural things; the weather, trees flowers and even insects. If you don’t have time for a designated adventure, then just take a break from your busy day, bring your camera and spend an hour in your backyard.

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Research an animal, a plant, of an insect on the internet, then take your children outside and try to find one in their natural habitat. If you do, let them try to take the picture. Have fun.

We are excited to announce that Goylake Publishing has teamed-up with the Fussy Librarian and in partnership we are offering you 20% off your first book promotion with the Fussy Librarian. To qualify for this promotion, your book must be either permafree or listed free during a special offer.

In our experience, the Fussy Librarian is the best book promoter in the business. When we promote with him, our free books always reach the top five of Amazon’s genre charts, most often they reach the top three. We promote with the Fussy Librarian every month and will continue to do so into the foreseeable future. Prices start from as low as $15, minus our special discount of 20%. Click here: https://authors.thefussylibrarian.com/?ref=goylake for full details. And, at the checkout, be sure to enter this code: goylake20 to claim your 20% discount. Thank you for your interest. And good luck with your promotion! - 48 -

Scandal, Infamy, and Fame by John Greeves Coventry, Dunstable and St. Albans. When Nelson and his party initially arrived at Blenheim Palace, with the intentions of calling on the Duke of Marlborough, they were greeted by an embarrassing

Every generation has its iconic couple whether it’s Becks and Posh, Barrack and Michelle Obama or William and Catherine. The 18th century was no different with Nelson and Lady Hamilton fuelling a frenzy of media coverage about their scandalous affair. Nelson was the victor of The Battle of the Nile and Copenhagen, but the couple was openly shunned at court. It’s hard to imagine how this diminutive figure, grey lined, with no right arm, with a sightless right eye caused such national euphoria at the time and attracted so much adulation from women. He had few social graces, being a poor dresser, dancer and unable to sing, he seemed more at home aboard ship than he did in polite society. However, Nelson mania was everywhere and the fashion for Nelson merchandise became insatiable. Fashionable ladies in awe of Emma Hamilton rushed to dress themselves ‘alla Nelson’ in Nelson themed shawls, hair ribbons, rings, brooches, earrings, bags necklaces, pendants, hats and even petticoats. Soon, Emma’s empire line style became widely copied across England and Wales. With the signing of the Treaty of Amiens in 1801, hostilities with the French stopped, allowing a breathing space between the wars. In July 1802, Lord Nelson and Sir William and Lady Hamilton Nelson’s brother and his wife and son set out from their home, Merton Place, seven miles from Westminster Bridge to visit the Hamilton estates at Milford Haven. The tour lasted for several weeks and took in Oxford, Gloucester, Ross on Wye, Monmouth, Brecon Merthyr, Carmarthen before returning via Swansea Cardiff, Newport, Chepstow, Hereford, Ludlow, Worcester, Birmingham, Warwick, - 49 -

silence and told the old Duke wasn’t at home. Despite this obvious slight, they were greeted all along the route with exuberant applause and flag waving by the general public and given the type of welcome usually reserved for a king. On 25th July, they embarked on a pleasure boat garlanded with laurel leaves and drifted downstream towards Monmouth. As the boat rounded the bend towards the town, the canons on a nearby hill fired a salute while the crowds lined the banks upstream for two miles. Nelson removed his hat and took up his position in the bows. On arrival they were greeted by the Mayor and Corporation and Brecon Militia playing See the Conquering Hero. After a short speech, the party moved through the town’s narrow streets which were crammed with people anxious to see their hero. At the Beaufort Arms, Nelson addressed the noisy crowd who followed by spontaneously singing God Save the King. Nelson and his party then adjourned to the Beaufort Arms with Nelson promising to return for a lengthier visit.

At the time of the Monmouth visit Sir William was aged 72, Nelson 44 and Lady Hamilton 37. This ménage a trois, liked to refer to themselves as Tria juncto in uno. Emma was a great beauty and a celebrated artist’s model to George Romney and Joshua Reynolds. She was fluent in both French and Italian, had a perfect operatic voice and had developed a series of classical poses known as ‘attitudes’ which spread her fame far and wide throughout Europe. Emma and Nelson had become lovers in 1799. Sir William Hamilton was aware, but chose to ignore it, providing Emma remained married to him. By 1800 she was pregnant with Nelson’s child. Nelson had separated from his wife Frances Nisbet in 1801 causing a major scandal, not because he had a mistress (a common enough occurrence in those days), but because he had taken someone else’s wife. That evening the celebrated guests settled in and accepted some bottles of fine claret, before they settled in for the night before setting off towards Pembrokeshire on another phase of the tour. Several weeks later Nelson’s party returned to Monmouth on 18th August in order to view the Naval Temple, erected by the Duchess of Beaufort (daughter of Admiral Boscawen) as a memorial to the British Navy, and to those admirals who distinguished themselves in the battles of the latter part - 50 -

of the eighteen century. This unique memorial on the picturesque Kymin Hill overlooks the town where visitors can still enjoy panoramic views stretching from the Malvern Hills in the North, to the Brecons and beyond in the West. Next morning, Monmouth town awoke to the sound of St. Mary’s bells announcing Nelson’s presence in the town. At 9 o’clock the party left Beaufort Arms by coach past the cheering crowds across the Wye Bridge and then up the steep narrow track to the summit of the Kymin to the Naval Temple and the Kymin Pavilion, where they were met by a salute of canon, the local dignitaries and the sound of the militia band.

The temple was erected in 1800 and predates any other monument like Nelson’s column (1843). Nelson inspected the temple which has a seated figure of Britannia on the top with sixteen medallions on the wall with the names of naval commanders and the battles in which they served. On the east wall was a dramatic painting of the Battle of the Nile. Nelson it seemed kept his emotions in check, but remarked that “It was not only one of the most beautiful places he had seen,’ and that “the temple was the only monument of the kind erected to the English Navy.”

The pavilion was a summer house erected by the ‘Kymin Club’ to provide a building for a group of eighteenth century gentlemen who met socially, as one writer puts it ‘for the purpose of friendship and conviviality.’ The building had a fine turreted tower standing 30 feet high with two rooms; one on the ground floor for the kitchen and the other upstairs for a banqueting room. It was here Nelson and his party sat down for breakfast with Mayor Hollings and the Corporation before they went off to see the Naval Temple which was close at hand.

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After spending some time in the nearby Beaulieu Grove, Nelson asked “Is there any Naval timber among it?” Nelson at that time was obsessed with the shortage of Naval timber. The Victory and other large war ships were laid up and in need of major refits or repairs. In the afternoon the party returned to the town on foot, so the crowds could see more of them when they left the Kymin. A grand civic banquet was prepared in Nelson’s honour at the Beaufort Arms. Nelson arrived promptly, dressed in a blue frock coat with gold epaulettes, a black silk waistcoat, knee breeches and a glittering display of orders and decorations. He sat beside the mayor, with Lady Hamilton next to him to assist with the carving of the venison which had been dispatched from the Duke of Beaufort’s estate. The evening was a great success with toasts to the King and the Hero of the Nile and Copenhagen. - 52 -

Nelson thanked the assembled and made a plea for national unity, not dissimilar to Churchill’s wartime speech which proclaimed his belief in the people of Britain to withstand the Nazi invasion. Lady Hamilton sang Rule Britannia and God Save the King, with an added verse which praised both Nelson’s name and his valour. Nelson and Lady Hamilton then adjourned to what has become known as Nelson’s garden accompanied by Colonel Lindsay to view the Kymin and to drink tea and coffee in the beautiful secluded garden.

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Within three years of the Monmouth visits, both Sir William and Nelson were dead. Emma’s life after Trafalgar was a catalogue of debt and betrayal. History often distorts our view of Emma, she has often been castigated unkindly as fat, drunk extravagant and promiscuous. Most of her debt was incurred by making Merton Place, a memorial to Nelson’s name. Sadly she ended up in debtor’s prison and on release, fled to Calais to avoid creditors, where she died alone, probably of amoebic dysentery, a few months short of her 50th birthday.

John Greeves originally hails from Lincolnshire. He believes in the power of poetry and writing to change people’s lives and the need for language to move and connect people to the modern world. Since retiring from Cardiff University, Greeves works as a freelance journalist who's interested in an eclectic range of topics.

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Genealogy: Meet My Ancestors by Hannah Howe

Ken Howe Three letters from my ancestor Ken Howe (born 13.3.1919 in Corneli, the son of Billy Howe and Gwendolyne Thomas). In 1940 when the call came Ken responded to the threat of fascism and joined the Queen’s Own Hussars. His letters offer an insight into life at the front and here is the first of them. 30.9.1940 Dear Sis (Priscilla) Handel (brother-in-law) and Clive (nephew),

Thanks for your letter, which I received this morning. Glad to here that you are all okay, as I am. I have just come from dinner, which wasn’t so hot, and after reading about that rabbit my mouth is watering. Jerry was around here (Newmarket) last night dropping his eggs, but far enough from us. As long as he keeps that distance I’ll be quite satisfied. I was in Newmarket last night with one of the boys from our tent and we spent most of our time in a church canteen reading and talking and it was a pleasant evening, what with free tea and cake. We were issued with a suit of denim last week, the stuff that the Home Guards use, and we use it for our work. We look like Home Guards walking around our camp. There has been talk of us moving this week, but I don’t know if it is right or not.

tanks this afternoon, messing about. I had a letter from Aunt Edie yesterday, and she said she hoped to see me on my next leave, remember the 48 hours. Joan (sister) sent me some fruit and biscuits in her parcel and I’ve been doing alright the last two days. Well old girl this is about all the news this time so I will sign off. Give my regards to the sergeant (his father?).

It is getting cold in the night time now, and I woke last night with my feet like lumps of ice. I think I will have to get a hot-water bottle sez me. We have been on wireless training this morning and I was nearly sleeping on my feet. We are going out in

Till the next time, love to all, Ken Here is the second letter written by Ken Howe of the 4th Queen’s Own Hussars. Undated, 1940. - 56 -

We have been cleaning this place out today. We will be a long way from here (Newmarket) by Saturday. Well, Sis, I’m not feeling too good about leaving the old country. It’s been a lovely autumn day, with the sun out, and it brings back memories of South Cornelly, and walks in the moonlight with the boys. It will be a new experience like when I was called up, and I expect I shall get used to it.

We both played football yesterday afternoon for the squadron and had our snaps taken by one of the boys, so I’ll send you some on when they are developed. We have had a few sandstorms and boy is there a mess. There’s sand in your nose, eyes, everywhere, and they blow for hours. Well old girl I’m afraid this is all for now. Hoping you are all in the best of health as I am. Cheerio for the present.

Ken Howe’s third letter, 9.2.1941, Middle East Forces

Love to all, Ken

Dear Sis, Handel and Clive, Just a few lines to say how we are getting on here. We are doing alright so far, and we haven’t got much to grumble at. Elwyn and myself were in Cairo a few days ago on leave, and we had quite a good time there. It isn’t as modern as I thought it would be, and in the native quarters how it smells. We stayed at the barracks there and it cost us nothing, though the money doesn’t half go. I ordered two cushion covers from one of the shops, with our badge on it. They make them and post them duty free for the troops. I’m afraid it will take a long time before you have them, one for you and Joan.

The cushion covers, made of black velvet, were sent to Priscilla and Joan with the message ‘To Sis All My Love Ken’ embroidered on them. In March 1941 the Queen’s Own Hussars were mobilised to Crete and then to mainland Greece in the forces gathered together at short notice to defend Greece. Sadly, Ken was killed in action on the 23.4.1941, the day the Greek forces surrendered to the Axis. He was twenty-two years old. The Greek campaign ended with a complete German and Italian victory. In many respects it was a ‘pointless’ campaign for the British because they did not have the military resources to carry out big simultaneous operations in North Africa and the Balkans. Even if they had been able to block the Axis advance, a counter-thrust across the Balkans was impossible.

While in Cairo we met a few of our boys who were in our squad in Catterick and we hadn’t seen them for months, and in one of the clubs for our troops I met a chap named Thomas. He owns the Swan in Nottage and he knows Handel and Roy Edwards well. Surprising how small the world is, eh. We went to see the pyramids and Sphinx and other sites.

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Dancing in the Rain By Chantal Bellehumeur Dancing was one of Amber's many passions, but she didn't particularly like going to the clubs the way most of her friends did. She much preferred dancing with her troupe, or even alone. Because her best friend Cindy insisted on going clubbing to celebrate her 25th birthday, Amber finally agreed. She hadn't the heart to tell her friends she would have preferred staying home to read. They wouldn’t have understood, and might have taken offence. Amber now stood on the crowded dance floor feeling dizzy. Everything around her was spinning as the music pounded painfully in her ears. Among the colourful flashing lights, she could see her three close friends happily smiling and laughing as they energetically danced. The all-around movements made her slightly nauseous.

Amber’s heartbeat as well as her breathing accelerated. She recognised it as the onset of an anxiety attack. One of her friends yelled out to her, looking concerned, but Amber couldn’t make out what she was saying. ‘’I’ll be back’’ she faintly said, handing her half-drunk watered-down cocktail to Cindy. Amber started heading in the direction of the bathrooms with the intention of splashing cold water on her pale face. She ended up going upstairs to the rooftop terrace instead since she realised fresh air plus some peace and quiet would be better.

As soon as she opened the heavy door, Amber felt the cool autumn breeze. The music became instantly muffled as the door slammed shut, and she already started feeling a bit calmer.

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Amber walked into the open space towards a railing, doing her best to control her rapid breathing. ‘’One, two, three, four, five’’ she counted in her head as she inhaled. ‘’One, two, three, four, five’’ she silently said as she exhaled. As she repeated the exercise, Amber heard a familiar male voice ask if she was ok. She turned around and was surprised to see her high school crush, now the singer and songwriter of her favorite local band, standing two feet in front of her. Kyle Leslie had always been very popular and social; the opposite of her. She didn’t know a single girl from her high school days who had not fantasised about being Kyle’s girlfriend. Amber never felt she stood a chance with him. She had always been too shy to speak to Kyle, and mostly avoided him. The sight of Kyle’s handsome face with piercing blue eyes made Amber's heart rate accelerate once more and she started hyperventilating. She felt quite embarrassed by her reaction. Amber didn't want Kyle to see her like this; not when he was finally noticing her. Kyle managed to put Amber at ease by helping her calm down. As it turned out, he too suffered from anxiety and had experienced many anxiety attacks in the past. That came as a surprise to Amber.

Kyle took Amber in a comforting hug and encouraged her to focus on his steady breathing. When Amber’s breathing returned to normal, she was disappointed to feel Kyle’s muscular arms break free of her. She expected him to politely walk away now that she was feeling better. However, he simply looked out into the dark horizon and made a comment on the amazing view of the city lights. Amber took in the scenery, occasionally glancing at Kyle, not wanting the moment to end. She felt nervous about the silence between them but didn't dare open her mouth out of fear of saying something stupid. After proper introductions were made, the new acquaintances started chatting about this and that. Amber was relieved by the level of comfort between her and Kyle. Her shyness around him soon vanished. When Amber felt a drop of rain hit her head, she kept it to herself because she feared the special moment would come to an end. A few heavier drops were felt on her bare skin, but Amber continued ignoring them. - 59 -

Amber found herself shivering in her tank top and short skirt, and Kyle kindly offered her his hoodie. She accepted it right away. When Amber pulled the thick sweatshirt over her head, she took in the musky scent of Kyle’s cologne.

sing and dance on the rooftop. She took off her uncomfortable high heel shoes and stepped into the pouring rain to begin her spontaneous performance.

“You look good in that”, Kyle commented with a smirk. Amber realised the large hoodie probably looked like a baggy dress on her and giggled.

Amber realised she didn’t know the rest of the words to the popular song, but it didn’t matter. Kyle continued singing in her place, making Amber’s heart melt; how she adored the sound of his singing voice. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Amber had seen him perform on stage many times in high school, but now it felt like he was giving her a private show.

As Amber and Kyle continued their pleasant conversation, lightning was seen in the distance and the night sky exploded into a sudden downpour. Amber instinctively pulled the hood over her head and ran for the door along with Kyle. She wasn’t terribly put out by the fact it wouldn’t open. She actually started laughing. Although both already drenched, Amber and Kyle agreed to head over to a partially covered area of the deserted terrace. Once sheltered, Amber watched as Kyle attempted to reach somebody on his phone without any luck. Although Amber wasn’t eager to leave Kyle’s company, she pulled out her own phone from her purse and dialed her best friend. When Cindy answered, Amber could practically only hear the loud pounding music on the other end. ‘’What? I can’t understand! You’re where?’’ Cindy yelled. Amber yelled back as loudly as she could but was unable to make herself heard. She finally hung up and decided it would be best to send a text instead. Receiving no response, she tried texting her two other friends. They were just as unresponsive as Cindy. After ten minutes of waiting for somebody to come help them, Amber got the sudden urge to

‘’I’m singing in the rain,’’ she joyfully sang out of tune. ‘’Just singing in the rain…’’

Kyle started dancing awkwardly along with Amber as he sang, and they were soon dancing closely together like a couple. The next thing Amber knew, her and Kyle were kissing in the rain which had now calmed down. During their short embrace, a bouncer from the club opened the door and yelled out to them. Amber was disappointed by the interruption, wishing the rescue could have happened just a little later. Thinking about the kiss with butterflies in her stomach, she barely heard the bouncer asking her and Kyle why they had gone up to the rooftop. ‘’Didn’t you see the sign?’’ ‘’What sign?’’ Amber heard Kyle ask in response. The bouncer looked annoyed and pointed at the back of the door, having entered the loud club again. There was nothing there.

‘’There’s a problem with the door,’’ the bouncer redundantly stated. ‘’Nobody should be on the terrace until we get that fixed.’’

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The bouncer fled downstairs, leaving Amber and Kyle alone again.

Two long months passed by with no news from Kyle. The longer Amber waited for him to contact her, the less she wanted to tell her friends about that special evening on the rooftop. If she didn’t still have Kyle’s hoodie, she would have thought the whole thing had simply been a dream.

Before either one could say anything, Cindy and the other girls appeared at the bottom of the stairs. They clearly had too much to drink, and Amber felt she should do the responsible thing by calling her friends a cab and making sure they got home safely. She told Kyle her plan, half cursing at herself, and to her surprise he asked for her number.

A few more weeks went by, then Amber heard Kyle’s new single on the radio. According to the announcer, the song was called ‘’Dancing in the Rain’’ and the lyrics were clearly about her and Kyle.

Amber didn’t expect to ever hear from Kyle again. After all, he was a rising music star and she felt like a nobody compared to him. She wrongfully thought Kyle had never noticed her in high school, and would be naive to think he was truly interested in her now. Yet, she still hoped.

Amber felt a mixture of emotions as she listened to the lovely song. She had been the source of inspiration for Kyle Leslie’s song which was quite flattering and filled her with joy, yet she felt slightly used and hurt.

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Amber’s phone rang as the song came to an end, as though on cue. It was Kyle. ‘’I can’t stop thinking about you’’ were the first words Amber heard when she answered. The butterflies in her stomach were back. Kyle sincerely apologised for not contacting her sooner, explaining that he had been busy with his recent song writing and recording. ‘’I wrote one for you,’’ he finished. Amber did her best to hold in her contentment. Kyle was now asking her out on a date. Of course, she said yes.

Being in the public eye along with Kyle was hard on Amber at first, and she sometimes felt insecure. But, his love for her was obvious in the way he treated her as well as the songs he wrote.

Kyle was everything Amber hoped he would be and seemed to like her as much as she liked him. They continued dating, and Kyle asked Amber to dance with him in his music video for "Dancing in the Rain." Soon after its release, Kyle made the story behind the hit song and video public. Cindy and Amber's other friends were a bit upset with her at first for not telling them, but they got over it.

They had a small wedding after which Amber started touring with Kyle; not only as his wife but as a professional dancer and choreographer as well. The happy couple ended up having two beautiful and talented children; a boy and a girl. As they grew old together, Amber and Kyle continued telling anyone who listened about the night they met.

Over time, Amber and Kyle fell deeply in love and eventually got engaged.

Chantal Bellehumeur is a Canadian author born in 1981. She has several published novels of various genres as well as numerous short stories, poems and articles featured in compilation books, magazine, plus a local newspaper. For a complete list of publications, including free reads, visit the following website: https://author-chantal-bellehumeur.webnode.com/products-/

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The Special Love by Stan Phillips In youth we seek love in the heat of desperate flames that burn remorseless in the fiery furnace of our bellies. And find lust, Passion. Brief respite till the search begins, inevitable, once more. Older, our journey to love is full of unlearned lessons, memories of pain and betrayal, and for the fortunate and rare few, echoes of laughter and ephemeral joy that line the well trodden road behind us. For love is a fickle fellow that dances wildly just beyond our frantic fingers. It rarely emerges bright and complete into the light of our new mornings. The wonder of.

Often it is like a full rounded dream that is explored, held, caressed, absorbed into our consciousness, only to vanish into fading memory as the reality of waking day takes control.

The glory of it. And we discover how to take care of the fragility of it, lest it should fade like the last snows of passing winter that become a memory with the infant spring.

For the best of love comes slow, almost unnoticed, down the corridors of our years. Quiet it is as it insinuates itself into the crevices of our being. Almost anonymous it is as it works it's magic into our lives.

That special love. That true love that was worth the waiting for as it came slow down the road ahead, those miles we still had to travel.

And abides. And grows. And blossoms.

And realise that we don't find it.

Till suddenly, without ever realising it, we realise the reality of it.

Rather, if we are worthy, it will find us.

Stan Phillips is a poet, musical podcast maker, part-time wannabe male model, and occasional stand up comedian. “I used to be a psychotherapist/counsellor when I had an honest job. I was born into prewar London, and attended 17 schools (my father believed they couldn’t hit a moving target) and I eventually finished up here in Ireland. Still wondering what I will be when I grow up — but enjoying writing my quirky poetry as I do so.” Discover more about Stan on Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/stan-phillips - 63 -

Faith Firm But Provisional by Father Ian Maher

John 5.31-47 Many years ago, and long before Vincent Nicholls became the RC Archbishop of Westminster, I heard him speak in London, and have always remembered something that he said: ‘Faith must be firm, but provisional’. It struck me then as very challenging, not least because I thought my faith was firmly bolted down, with all my certainties well and truly in place. The intervening years have served only to show me how true those words are. If it is not to become like a fossil from another time, faith has to engage with all that comes our way in life, speaking into all the ups and downs, twists and turns, that form and shapes us. We do not develop in a vacuum but become the people we are today through all the various experiences, relationships and places that we encounter along the way learning that, in life, there will be times when we need to adapt and change. That might even mean breaking with convention – even Church rules – especially if failing to do so will result in avoidable hurt and pain for others. For Christian faith to have relevance in every age, it is important to stand firm on what lies at the very heart of our faith – such as the grace, mercy, compassion, love, and justice of God; while sitting more lightly and provisionally to things that are time bound and culturally conditioned. The world is, after all, a very different place than it was 2,000 years ago. And we must seek to do that in such a way as to be a force for good, for peace, and for reconciliation in the midst of the fractious and divided world in which we find ourselves. As ever, it is to our Lord himself that we must look for guidance and inspiration.

In chapter 5 of John’s gospel Jesus is responding to some fellow Jews who have been criticising his authority, in particular, over his healing of a person on the Sabbath. That was not the way people were supposed to behave. No doubt the argument, ‘we have always avoided working on the sabbath’ would have been on the lips of Jesus’ critics. But what Jesus was revealing was how the law was always intended for the wholeness and wellbeing of people and never as something to be kept for its own sake, especially if it meant a person’s suffering continued. The law, like faith, was meant to be a living thing, not a fossil. What Jesus then sets out to do is explain to his critics that his actions were not something that he was doing simply to please himself or to impress the crowd but, rather, because his life was

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a reflection of the very life of God. Jesus was the embodiment in a human life of all that God is. His works were the works of the Father. There was no inconsistency. As Jesus puts it: ‘The works that the Father has given me to complete, the very works that I am doing, testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me.’

greed, bitterness, and vested interests, can so easily drown out what is good and of God. Remember how Jesus was attacked for healing a man because his action broke with religious convention? Our calling as Christians in the world is to be on the side of the angels: standing up for what is right and good; living faithfully as followers of Jesus; and being the Body of Christ in the world. We are meant to be God’s countermeasures to the climate of bitterness and division that deface our world. We are ambassadors for a kingdom established on a different set of values. We are witnesses to a God who loves us unconditionally and without limit.

By looking at, by meditating upon, by seeking to live as closely to the example set by Jesus as we can, we can learn to base our own words and actions in the world on the very life of God himself. We are then able to continue on the journey to be the people God longs us to be and, through our life and witness, to pass on that message to others. In a world where there is so much conflict, discord and disharmony, it has never been more important for us to stand up for what we believe and to hold fast to all that we believe is good and life-affirming – for our fellow human beings and for the world in which we live. It is important because the siren voices of hatred,

So let our faith be firm with regard to the gospel essentials of love, grace, compassion, forgiveness, and a passion for justice; but provisional with regard to things much less important but which, sadly, the Church so often argues.

I am a priest and minor canon at Sheffield Cathedral. My last post prior to retirement from stipendiary ministry was as the Multifaith Chaplaincy Coordinator and Anglican Chaplain at Sheffield Hallam University, where I worked for 12 years. https://imaherblog.wordpress.com/ Twitter @IanMaher7 - 65 -

Coloring Page By Adrian Czarnecki Though I love dreaming up and putting together my Siberian Husky themed children’s illustrated picture story books, Adventures of Hot Rod Todd, I don’t think of myself as an ‘author’ or as a ‘writer’. ‘Story teller’ sounds better. My books are so dependent upon the illustrations. That’s where illustrator Cameo Anderson http:// www.cameoanderson.com/ comes in. Cameo really can see into my mind’s eye interpreting my often rambling page descriptions into works of art; there’s a saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words” and with a children’s book that is so important and Cameo nails it every time and then some. So, for your enjoyment, here is a page from the Coloring Book featuring some of the characters and scenes from the books.

Coloring Book FREE PDF download available via website www.adventuresofhotrodtodd.com

Adrian S. Czarnecki is a semi-retired writer of Siberian Husky oriented children’s books based on an actual litter of 6 puppies born to his Dam Empress Maya and Sire Damien Czar on March 14th 2019. Born in Huddersfield, England, Adrian has travelled the world extensively pursuing careers in journalism, photography, PR / Marketing as well as print and sales. Adrian now lives in Idaho, USA with his wife Meta and their Siberian Huskies who keep them on their toes. - 66 -

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Daddy Hair Care By Maggie Cobbett Daddy always says that even messy braids mean time spent together and, boy, were mine messy at first! Squashy and uneven, they came apart at the first touch. That was before he went too far the other way and pulled them as tight as could be, which must have given me a rather startled expression!

was my world. The customers very soon became used to seeing me in my stroller and Daddy having to break off what he was doing to give me a bottle or change a diaper. His big hands, although roughened by hard work, were always very gentle. There was only one aspect of childcare that he dreaded tackling.

I should explain. Momma died when I was still a baby and Daddy was not about to let anyone else raise me. He left the military and set up an auto repair shop on the edge of our home town. During working hours, it

Looking through the family photograph album, I can see why. A son would have been a mini version of Daddy with a buzz cut, but he could not inflict that on his little girl. I only had a few wisps of hair to begin with.

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When it grew longer it was fine and fair like Momma’s, silky and difficult to handle, but Daddy was no quitter. To stop me wriggling, he sat me down in my high chair with a ton of cereal before setting to work. My first real hair do was very simple. Created as soon as I had enough to brush up and pull together into a rubber band, it was a single pony tail on top of my head. Any escaped flyaway hair he fastened back with alligator clips. Those were proper ones from the drugstore, by the way, in case you think they came from his toolbox. He bought ribbons too.

Finding new styles for me became quite a hobby with him and it was not long before word got around. All kinds of folk started dropping by to see the latest one. “Do you think I could learn how to do that with my big clumsy paws?” asked Jed Mullen one morning. He was a single dad too and his twin daughters, Madison and Ava, were about to start first grade with me. “I’d like my girls to look decent when they go to school.” “Of course you could, Jed,” said Daddy. “There really isn’t much to it. Just go easy, so they don’t think you’re trying to scalp them. They’ll surely let you know if it hurts.”

Braiding he found more difficult, but Daddy was undaunted and turned to the internet for instructions. When I grew tired of having my hair tugged about and started to bawl, he got out his pocket knife and separated some strands of rope to practice with until he got the hang of it.

That day I was wearing a single pony split into two at the back and looped. Daddy abandoned the engine he was working on and went off to wash his hands. Then he did - 69 -

Madison’s hair for her, explaining step by step, while Jed did his best to do the same for Ava. It was quite good for a first attempt and the three of them went off with smiles on their faces..

and cookies for the few who turned up the first week . Then fathers and daughters started to drive over in their pickups from miles around and brought their own food to share. It turned into a regular picnic.

That was how it started. It was mostly lone fathers who sought Daddy’s help, but times were a-changing, even in our neck of the woods, and there were a few others who had agreed to take over responsibility for the kids while their moms were out at work

Potato chips, ribs, beans, slaw, corn chowder, rye bread... No beer, though. Daddy would not allow it. He wanted those guys sober! Even removing tangles from a little girl’s hair could be a tricky business and later on there were demonstrations to follow and diagrams to copy.

“Marcia’s away a lot,” said Larry Shinetower, shuffling his feet. “She can earn more in the city than I ever could and we’ve got the mortgage to pay.”

All kinds of men came along over the next few years, farmers, truck drivers, even our young minister for a while when his wife was called away to tend to her sick mother. Together they learned everything from French braiding to putting hair into a bun for ballet class.

“He tried to trim my bangs with the pinking shears from her sewing bag,” giggled his daughter. You could tell. You really could! Although always happy to help anyone in need, Daddy had a living to earn. Realising that he could not continue to swap his wrench for a comb at the drop of a dime, he hit upon the idea of closing early one Saturday a month to hold a special workshop in our home. The roads around here being dry and dusty, he laid in supplies of juice, sodas

“Did your daddy really do that all by himself?” asked my teacher the night of our elementary school prom. “You look just like a princess.” - 70 -

tells newcomers the same thing.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered proudly. “He surely did.”

“The braids you make for your little girl aren’t just braids. They form a bond between you that will never be broken.”

“Well, I’m deeply impressed. Has he ever thought of starting his own Daddy Hair Care channel on YouTube? He could make himself a small fortune.” I was shocked. “No, ma’am. Daddy wouldn’t want to do anything like that. He never charges anyone a nickel. Just enjoys taking care of my hair and helping other daddies who want to learn.” “Well he’s an excellent role model,” she said. I suppose he is. Daddy would never give himself a fancy title like that, but he always

A Yorkshire girl through and through, Maggie Cobbett lives on the edge of the Dales. With five books to her credit, she also writes short stories, features and even the occasional poem. Her many travels, as well as careers in modern language teaching and television background work, have furnished an inexhaustible supply of inspiration. http://maggiecobbett.co.uk/ - 71 -

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Copy Editors / Proofreaders — Wendy H. Jones and Sheena MacLead Our Copy Editors for Mom’s work hard to ensure content is appropriate and free of grammatical and spelling errors. Wendy H. Jones is also our Feature Editor and works hard to provide content that is interesting, informative and profession. She’s the award winning, international best-selling author of the DI Shona McKenzie Mysteries, Cass Claymore Investigates Mysteries, Fergus and Flora Mysteries, Bertie the Buffalo children’s books and the Writing Matters books for writers. She is also a writing and marketing coach and the President of the Scottish Association of Writers. You can learn more about Wendy on her website: https://www.wendyhjones.com/

Sheena Macleod lectured at the University of Dundee, where she gained her PhD. She now lives in a seaside town in Scotland. Reign of the Marionettes is her first novel. She currently has two additional books: Tears of Strathnaver and Women of Courage—A Forgotten Figure—Frances Connolly. You can learn more about Sheena on her website: https://www.sheenas-books.co.uk/

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Story Editor—Allison Symes Allison Symes works diligently each month to generate flash fiction writing prompts that will stimulate creativity in our authors and entertain our readers. As Story Editor, she also ensures each entry is professional and polished. Allison

Symes is an award winning, published flash fiction and short story writer. She also writes a weekly column on topics of interest for writers for online magazine, Chandler's Ford Today. Allison's fiction has appeared in anthologies (CafeLit and Bridge House Publishing) over many years. Allison judges competitions, runs workshops, and is always happy to talk/write about flash fiction writing. https://allisonsymescollectedworks.com

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