The Reindeer Keeper

Even when I was growing up I loved writing poems. Some were short and funny. Others were long and serious. When playing in our chicken coop clubhouse my cousin and I would write poems. One my cousin wrote remains a favorite from back then: 'Bees make honey-They make it so funny-You'd think they'd say it's a funny day-But it's not-It's not even hot-That's what they say!' We'd laugh every time we'd recite that little ditty. Since those days I've learned there are different types of poems, each with their own rules. I still enjoy writing poems. They make you think. They lighten your load. They offer you an avenue of expression. Since April is National Poetry Month I'd lke to share a few with you and remember-'Poems make you giggle-They make your tongue wiggle!' While I don't remember what type of poem each of these represents or what rules they follow-I hope you enjoy them! SUNFLOWERS 'Tall and lanky swaying in the br...

As I was writing 'The Snowman Maker'-my next Christmas novel to be released October, 2013, I found myself again drawing from childhood experiences of growing up in the country and weaving some of those threads into the storyline. Of course when the story is fiction, the possibilities are endless for the plot and for the characters who-by the time the last word is written-have become part of the writer's family. It's funny when you create characters their lives are in your hands. You decide their hair color-gender-views, etc.-but most important, you decide their fate. Scenes where emotions run high-run high for the writer as well. There have been scenes in both 'The Reindeer Keeper' and this upcoming release where I've laughed-cried-and felt anger towards a character. And when I found I had to write something into the story that caused such emotions, after it was on the page I'd have to get up and take a break. And once the book is published and out the...

My grandfather died when I was in the sixth grade. Any memories I have of the man are of when he was older so when I came across this photo showing him with two of his six daughters I couldn't take my eyes off him. I don't know how old he was when this was taken. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that it offers me a glimpse of my grandfather as a young father-dressed up and obviously on his way somewhere with daughter Ruth on his lap-and my mother in her little knit hat and buttoned-up coat by his side. It looks like they are in some sort of a sleigh with blankets. Wih that top hat and wool coat, my grandfather reminds me of Abe Lincoln-minus the beard. I remember him to have been tall and thin with Beech-Nut chewing tobacco in his back pocket. I remember him wearing suspenders and reading at night in the front parlor. Besides showing my grandfather as I'd never seen him before, this photo offers another glimpse of the barn I always write about. The more I find...

I love this old glossy photo of the kitchen in my grandparents' farmhouse. I only wish it showed more. It was a big kitchen but then it had to be with the meals being cooked and breads and cookies being baked and produce from the garden being cleaned, cooked or canned. You can see how the wood stove was the focal point. That pot in the forefront was the main one used for cooking just about everything. Behind it is the tea kettle always full of water. Up on top you can see a pie cooling. It was fun watching my grandmother bake her pies. Of course the crusts never came from a box in the dairy aisle like mind do. They were mixed and kneaded and water was added along with the Crisco and flour and a dash of salt until the consistency was just so. Then the dough was shaped into balls, rolled out, and filled with apples or raisins or pumpkin or mince meat or lemon pudding eventually topped with the fluffiest meringue ever. And this was done in-between everything else she had to do. Th...

I wish this old photo was clearer. That's me center front with my arms spread wide. I don't know what I was doing or who took it-probably with a Brownie camera. While it is blurry you still can see the field that led from our chicken coop clubhouse to our grandparent's old farmhouse. The chicken coop would have been to the left of me. Trudging through the hayfield is my fellow-cousin-girls-club-member-of-the-chicken-coop leading two of our little students back through the field-probably on their way home after class. They look like they were dressed up so it might have been a special day at the chicken coop schoolhouse. It looks like everyone had a great day. Stools seem to have been gathered outside for some reason. You can see an old record player with a collection of 45s waiting to be played. Funny thing about that-the chicken coop clubhouse didn't have electricity. But when you use your imagination-that doesn't matter. Maybe that's what I was doing-singi...

Right outside the kitchen door of my grandparent's farmhouse there used to be a tulip patch. I don't remember it growing up. I've only heard the stories-especially the ones concerning my older brother who was the first grandchild and who loved that tulip patch. Despite being told not to pick those beautiful, happy flowers he couldn't resist them and neither could anyone resist taking a tulip when he offered one. Dressed in his little short and sweater outfit with that little cap on his head and with his red hair and freckles, he won the adults over every time. The backdrop in this photo offers another glimpse of my grandfather's barn and opposite that-the granary. Although it's just a partial glimpse of the barn it instills the comforting feeling of the family farm and how family would gather and enjoy the simple things-like a tulip patch complete with a tulip stealer. Before heading up the small incline to those buildings there was a wide area of ...

Way back when-according to those cars in the background-my cousin and I participated in a summer event-a grand parade which was the crowning event of a week-long celebration. The parade seemed to last all Saturday afternoon. There were high-marching bands and high school bands and drum corps with amazing majorettes from all over the place-even Canada-sending their music all through our downtown which rambled on for blocks. There were horses and tractors, cars and trucks, police and organizations-beauty queens and their courts and floats-all kinds of floats. From what I can remember we were part of a float highlighting Women's Suffrage and the 19th Amendment-which is what that plackard my cousin is holding represents. I don't remember where those dresses came from-or those pearls. I do remember thinking why it would have been a question that women or anyone would not have the Right to Vote. Isn't that what that flag behind us symbolizes I thought-freedom, and...