Tuesday Tales: Magpies

When my father passed away he left on his computer stories about his life. It took almost three years of work but we finally had his book ready to be published. I thought I'd share this story he wrote about his adventure with Magpie chicks

Magpie’s


Jack (his brother) and I were left to explore our neighborhood in Provo during the day. We crossed the canal and went up past Malstrom’s house into the foot hills near Slate Canyon. The scrub oak was hot and dry and the balsam root had just matured.

While we were exploring the thickets we discovered a huge bird nest constructed out of sticks. We climbed up the oak and looked in and discovered half a dozen black and white birds a few weeks old. They all opened their mouth's expecting to get a feed—tough luck! We got out a couple to have a look at them. They had feathers on the back, wings and breast, but their hind ends were still bald. The "Little Buggers" were kind of stinky too.

The nest edges were completely white washed and stickeeeeeey. Of course we just wiped it off on our overalls, to mother's displeasure. We decided to take a couple home for pets. Jack and I each cuddled one up and started down the mountain side with our newly found pets. It didn't take us long to figure out we'd get plastered with white stuff if we didn't watch out. Those birds had bad breath too—extremely bad! When we got home we found out they were magpies. Dad built us a cage and we finished raising them out to maturity on bread soaked in milk and meat whenever we could get a little.

Boy! They grew into handsome birds with long tails. We would take them out of the cage for exercise and suddenly one took off and flew away. The other we returned to the cage and discontinued the practice of giving him the opportunity to escape.

Mother would come into the bedroom each morning and say “Jimmie and Jack—Get up!” One morning I heard her call “Jimmie and Jack—Get up!” I staggered out of bed and discovered it was just starting to get a little light in the east. Dad and mother were still in bed asleep. This happened several times before we discovered the magpie had learned to call out that command, and sound the same as mother. He learned a few other words and phrases also. Smart bird!

Whenever mother wanted us home for one thing or another she would whistle. She could be heard for quite a distance. That old bird learned to whistle and boy could he whistle. He could mimic mother to a “T”. It got to be a drag running home every time the Magpie whistled.

The Life and Stories of James William Bates, Volume I, chapter 10, pg. 53.

First printing, October 2007
Second printing, April 2008, revisions and corrections included

Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved.
©2007, a publication of the James William and Ellen Bentley Bates Family Organization

Book Review: The Secret Life of Bee's

A novel by
Sue Monk Kidd

About the Author:

Sue Monk Kidd is the author of the highly acclaimed memoirs “The Dance of the Dissident Daughter” and “When the Heart Waits”. She has won a Poets & Writers award, a Katherine Anne Porter Award, and a Bread Loaf scholarship. Two of her stories—including an excerpt from “The Secret Life of Bees—were selected as notable stories in “Best American short Stories”. “The Secret Life of Bees”, her first novel, was nominated for the prestigious Orange Prize in England. She lives beside a salt marsh near Charleston, South Carolina.

The Book:




Recently my daughter rented the movie based on this book, starring Queen Latifah and Dakota Fanning. The movie was so sweet and touching and involved me on such an emotional level that I found myself watching it for a second time the very next day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the story and decided I needed to read the book, because 9 times out of 10 the book is vastly superior.




I was pleasantly surprised that the movie had followed the book so closely, as well as preserving the beauty of language and artistry of the book. After finishing the book I have thought and pondered over the circumstances of the life of Lily Owens.


This story is set in South Carolina in 1964. The Secret Life of Bees tells the story of Lily Owens, whose life has been shaped around the blurred memory of the afternoon her mother was killed. When Lily’s fierce-hearted black “stand-in-mother,” Rosaleen, insults three of the deepest racists in town, Lily decides to spring them both free. Lily’s father is a hard, cruel person, and at this point Lily decides she has had enough of his bad temper and foul treatment. They escape to Tiburon, South Carolina—a town that holds the secret to her mother’s past. Lily carries a picture that she found in her mother’s things of a Black Madonna with the name of Tiburon, S.C. written on the back. Upon arrival in Tiburon Lily stops at a mercantile to buy some lunch for her and Rosaleen. There behind the counter she sees rows and rows of honey with the very picture of the black Madonna that she holds in her hand pasted on as labels. She enquires about the honey and the clerk tells her of Miss August Boatwright who is a beekeeper and sells the honey. Lily feels as though fate has directed her to Miss Boatwright and goes directly to her home. Lily and Rosaleen are taken in by August and her two sisters May and June. They are allowed to stay in the Honey house; Lily earns her keep by helping August tend the bees. She is drawn into the mesmerizing world of bees and honey, the life of this loving family, and the secret of the Black Madonna.

During the course of this story Lily learns to deal with the hard circumstance of her life. I loved this book because we all have sorrow in our lives, we all seek for the empty place within us to be filled, and we all seek for peace at one time or another. This young girls search for peace and reconciliation leads her into the loving arms of a serene woman who offers her a place of healing and solace. Lily learns to deal with her contempt for herself as well as her sorrow for the losses in her life. She finally learns to love other people and learns how to let people love her back. At the end of the book she has found a way to fill the empty spot in her soul. It is a heart wrenching journey that exacted many emotional responses from me. I laughed, I cried, I was hurt, I was angry, in the end I was content; as was Lily.

My favorite part of reading this book was the joy of listening to the voice of the author.

The story begins:

At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzz that hummed along my skin. I watched their wings shining like bits of chrome in the dark and felt the longing build in my chest. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam.

The opening paragraph is beautiful and enticing it sucks you right into the story—heart first.

Another favorite thought from the book:

The Boatwright house is painted pink, a bright Caribbean pink, because it makes May happy. Lily asks August why she painted her house pink if her favorite color was blue. August replies, “You know, some things don’t matter that much, Lily. Like the color of a house. How big is that in the overall scheme of life? But lifting a person’s heart—now, that matters. The whole problem with people is they know what matters, but they don’t choose it . . . The hardest thing on earth is choosing what matters.”
The saddest point of the story:

Probably one or two moments in your whole life you will hear a dark whispering spirit, a voice coming from the center of things. It will have blades for lips and will not stop until it speaks the one secret thing at the heart of it all. Kneeling on the floor, unable to stop shuddering, I heard it plainly. It said, you are unlovable, Lily Owens. Unlovable. Who could love you? Who in this world could ever love you?

Lily learns this about the Black Madonna:

Our Lady is not some magical being out there somewhere, like a fairy godmother. She’s not the statue in the parlor. She’s something inside of you.

I like this quote, because I too have learned that God, or whomever we accept as divine in our lives, does not magically make our pain disappear. But he gives us the strength to find our way through the difficult circumstances of life. The moment one comes to terms with their own divinity, is the moment peace enters our hearts.


I don’t have a rating system—but I would recommend this book, just because it now lives in my heart.


"The Secret Life of Bees" tuesday teaser



Read more great reviews
just click on the button
happy reading!

Teaser Tuesday: New Look

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:



Grab your current read
Open to a random page
Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like!

my teasers:

4. Stitch front to back at side seams stitching LEFT side seam from lower edge to notch. Back-stitch at opening to reinforce seam.

5. Apply INTERFACING to WRONG side of yoke front and back sections. Stitch notched edges of yoke. With RIGHT sides together, pin yoke to garment, matching centers and RIGHT side seams. Stitch. LAYER seam; clip curves. Press seam toward yoke.



I am sitting in my sewing room reading the guide sheet of NEWLOOK 6569 pg 2 of 4. I am about to begin a sewing project; 6 chocolate brown embroidered twill skirts.






In case you were wondering, this isn't fiction--it's really me, in my life. Currently no time to read!

NewLook 6569

Monday Missions: It's not April yet . . .

I really wanted to .sdjitl participate in today's dlfoielrjljfljal monday mission, but my computer ldjaoidufole was malfunctioning hdiadifi;e'ae90-3 seems like there was something on my kjdoaidjfojel keyboard *@--djdiosl and the mouse was missing!

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

April Fools!

don't ask me where this picture came from, it was a pass along email!

Monday Musings: book lists

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about recording your reading…

Do you keep track of what and/or how many books you read? How long have you been doing this? What's your favorite tracking method, and why?If you don't keep track, why not? (question courtesy of MizB)

No I don't keep lists. When I was in high school and college taking literature classes I kept a record of those books. I have my memories of favorites, but I am also at an age where my memories aren't always credible. I recently discovered library thing, I am trying to build a library from my "memory". It's been great browsing other book sites, when I come upon a book I remember --I add it. It's kind of amusing because now that I'm really trying to remember what I've read, it comes back to me in the oddest moments :-)

The other thing about browsing all these book blogging pages--I've become aware that there is much more I haven't read than I have read. It's a wide open world out there!

Sunday Scripture: My Shield

But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me;
my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.
I cried unto the Lord with my voice,
and he heard me out of his holy hill.
Selah.
I laid me down and slept;
I awaked;
for the Lord sustained me.


KJV Psalms 3: 3-5

Photohunt #155: Hands

sweetings washing up after an afternoon of gluing with grandma

here she plays me a beautiful concerto, so advanced--notice the piano literature

sweetings is a constant source of entertainment and fun

love ya little one

photo's by kaye

Photo Story Friday: A sure sign of Spring

On Tuesday this week it was 6 weeks from when the groundhog saw his shadow.

So according to Phil the groundhog,

this is the week set for the arrival of Spring.

In my back yard a sure sign of the arrival of spring

is when the rhubarb pops up through the ground.

and sure enough, here it is right on schedule

Pink ladies sporting bonnets of spring green

Hooray for Spring!

Unfortunately . . .

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I forgot to knock on wood and woke up to find
those pretty little ladies covered with a dusting of snow!

It was so bitterly cold, I didn't even go out to take a picture.

Drat!

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Thesaurus Thursday: Compassion

Word of the day: Compassion; tender feeling for others

the word of the day is chosen by me, I use "dictionary.com" for the definition and the thesaurus

Play the game like this: Open up a thesaurus on-line. Type the word of the day in the search bar. Using the words generated write a sentence, paragraph, poem, or story. This is an increase your vocabulary activity.

Today is epilepsy awareness day. As a young child in a small community I grew up and attended school with an epileptic child. His episodes were part of our daily life at school. And although these seizures were frightening our teachers taught us to have compassion for our fellow student. We learned to treat him with kindness, sympathy and tenderness. Instead of turning away during an episode we reached out to him in empathy. He was part of our little world. We embraced his difference and it enriched our lives.



Wear Purple today

Please support Epilepsy Awareness Day! Epilepsy affects over 50 million people worldwide. That's more than multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy and Parkinson's disease combined.

this hug created by Michele at “The Rocky Mountain Retreat Photography”

Sepia Scenes #2: Wagon Wheel

mom collects wagon wheels

dad collects dead things

the woman has the patience of "Job"

Wordless Wednesday: Wear Purple

In support of a "wordless wednesday" participant

Please support Epilepsy Awareness Day! Epilepsy affects over 50 million people worldwide. That's more than multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy and Parkinson's disease combined.

Tuesday Tales: How the Dimples Came

"sweetings"

One bright, beautiful spring day, when the earth was fresh in its new green dress decked with flowers, while the birds sang their sweetest songs, and the brooks babbled merrily on their way to the rivers, two wee dimples were sent by Mother Nature on a journey to find their work in the world.

It was a delightful journey through the blue sky and past the fleecy white clouds.
They played and danced with the sunbeams who led them on their way to the earth.
The dimples could see nothing for them to do, so on they went, frolicking and playing.
At last they found themselves among the trees and the bright flowers of the earth.

They chased the sunbeams under the leaves, they rode on the butterflies' wings, they sipped the honey with the bees from the flowers. Still, they could find nothing to do. The sunbeams bade the dimples good-by and silently crept home. "Oh," said the dimples, "what shall we do? We have no place to rest tonight." "Here is a bird's nest; let us rest in this," said one dimple. "No, that will never do," said the other dimple, "for there is the mother bird, who rests in her nest all night."

Just then they spied a window swing open on its hinges. The tiny stars came out and peeped into the window, and the lady-moon sent silvery moonbeams down to help the dimples find a resting place. Then the dimples flew through the window, and there, close by, in her crib, curtained around with white, was a wee baby, rosy, sweet, and bright.

"Oh," said one dimple, "I would love to rest on that rosy cheek." "So would I," said the other dimple. And they each took a rosy cheek for a couch, and here they rested the whole night long.
The robins early in the dawn sat on the cheery boughs and sang loud and long, thus waking the dimples, who now knew not what to do. "But," said one dimple, "we have not yet found our work." The other dimple said: "Let us stay here. Baby's eyes are opening, and we must hide," and each dimple nestled away in baby's cheeks. Then her big, blue eyes opened wide, to see the sunbeams that had crept through the windows to her crib.

The sunbeams coaxed the dimples to come out and play, but the dimples would only peep out, and when they did, they brought smiles around baby's rosy lips and sunny eyes.
"So you have found your work at last," said the sunbeams. And they had, for they helped to bring out the smiles in baby's cheeks. If you look the next time you see baby you may see the dimples playing hide and seek.

read more spring stories here

Tuesday Teaser: The Secret Life of Bees

It is early 1960's. I am at a peach farm just outside Sylvan, South Carolina, population 3,100. Peach stands and Baptist churches, that sums it up.

"The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd

Today's Teaser comes from "The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd

At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzzzzzz that hummed along my skin. I watched their wings shining like bits of chrome in the dark and felt the longing build in my chest. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam.

opening paragraph

read my book review here

Monday Mission: We're off to the Races

because I'd rather watch horse races any day of the week over basket-ball!



The Shopping Cart Derby

Grandma needs a few things from the grocery store
She hates taking the little ones with her, they slow things down

Hmmm, her daughter will be home for lunch at 2:00—but needs to leave by 3:00, if she hurries . . .




And she’s off—
Flying out the door, grandma jumps into the car, purse, keys and list in hand




Zipping into the closest parking place she sprints to the cart corral,
Grabs a cart and is zooming down the produce aisle
Apples- check
Banana’s- check
Baby carrots- check
Oh- and an onion for dinner



Rounding the corner at the quarter post she’s on to the dairy department
Grabbing as she gallops past, yogurt and milk for the little ones

From there its lickety split up the frozen foods aisle
Creamies, ice-cream cups, frozen lunch entrée’s—oh my those kids eat a lot

A sharp turn at the half-way point brings her to the cereal aisle
Cheerios, Corn Chex, Fruit loops, Raisin Bran, oatmeal—for grandpa, and a container of chocolate milk mix

She passes the three-quarter post, the bakery department
7 loaves of bread—1 for each day, cookies, crackers and chips
Rounding the bend she reaches for the lunch meat and cheese
And she’s in the home stretch- - - - - - - - -

2nd in line

She unloads her basket in double time, has her shoppers reward card and debit card scanned before the checker can say, “I hope you found everything OK!”

In a full out sprint for the door, grandma throws the groceries in the trunk
Puts the pedal to the metal
And crosses the finish line with moments to spare!

nickers exhaustedly
Now if only she’d been 10 minutes faster, she would have had help carrying the groceries in!

Finally!


3rd in line

Monday Musings: shopping for books

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about bookstores…

How many bookstores do you frequent? Do you have a favorite? If so, which one and what makes it so?

Living in a small town I am limited to what is stocked at grocery store magazine racks, K Mart and Wal-Mart. I don’t spend much time looking. When I am looking for books I browse Barnes and Noble online. Most of the time I order books off the internet store. We have a Barnes and Noble about an hour away, but it is a trip “over the mountain” and usually requires an entire day away from home. So if I know I’ll be making a trip I’ll browse the titles online and then stop at the store. I have a daughter that loves to read, when she was around 13 or 14 I took her with me to Barnes and Noble. She was like a kid in a candy store. My mother and I sat in the café corner and just let her browse for an hour or so. When we left she said, “I had no idea there were stores like that!”

Sunday Scripture: Peace

Peace be within thy walls,
and prosperity within thy palaces.
For my brethren and companions’ sakes,
I will now say, Peace be within thee.


KJV Psalms 122:7,8

Photohunt 154: Yellow

Yellow Marbles

Photo Story Friday: Tiger Moth

Last fall I was in the backyard "supervising" my little ones.

As they were playing on our "little tikes play equipment"

I observed a strange splash of color underneath the arch of the climbing ladder.

Upon closer investigation this is what I found:

A brightly colored Tiger Moth

I watched it for awhile

It didn't seem to want to go anywhere,

despite the fact that little children were climbing all around it


I got some pretty good shots

It wasn't until later when I viewed this picture on the computer screen that understood why it so patiently sat.

If you'll look closely at the end of the abdomen, where it seems slightly irregular in shape, under the wings you will see a brown mass of dots, that seem to be of similar texture as the play equipment.

In this shot you can also see that there is some texture underneath the moth

After viewing the pictures I went back outside,

and sure enough my suspicions were confirmed.

The moth had been laying eggs.

This particular moth has a life cycle of one year.
It lays it's eggs in the spring or the fall.
They hatch and then it over winters as larva,
emerging as a moth in the spring.
I was thinking of this moth's offspring today
Of course, they didn't survive.
They didn't live to see Spring
because they weren't laid on a nice woody and herbaceous plant.


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek