Mom’s Favorite Reads eMagazine January 2021 by Mom’s Favorite Reads

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Manse Ahmad: Surviving the Stone Age Interview by Sylva Fae .............................................................................................. 8

Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Favorite Reads Author â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Melanie P. Smith ......................................... 60

Laughter is the Best Medicine! by Hannah Howe ............................................ 34

Midwinter Madness by Lesley Hayes ................................................................. 16 Walk in the Woods by Chantal Bellehumeur .................................................... 39 One Hundred Yards by Ross Homer ................................................................... 56

Sausage and Peppers by Adrian Czarnecki ........................................................70

Winter Wonderland by Melanie P. Smith .......................................................... 46

Something for Bobby by Stan Phillips ................................................................ 13 Fire by Stan Phillips ................................................................................................ 38

Genealogy: Researching Your Family Tree by Hannah Howe ....................... 14 What is Meditation by Val Tobin ......................................................................... 22 Seeds of Wisdom by Lisa McGrath ...................................................................... 26 A Year of Foraging by Sylva Fae ........................................................................... 28 Barcelona by Maressa Mortimer ........................................................................... 36 Europe by Book by Hannah Howe ...................................................................... 44 Things to Celebrate in January by Poppy Flynn ............................................... 48 Annus Horribilis by Grant Leishman ................................................................. 51 National Hat Day by Melanie P. Smith .............................................................. 54 Nicolas Winton—The British Schindler by John Greeves .............................. 63 Keep Going by Father Ian Maher ......................................................................... 68 Women of Courage: Heroines of the SOE by Hannah Howe ......................... 73

A Covid Christmas by Jessie (Age 10) ................................................................ 66

Hot Rod Todd Coloring Pages .............................................................................. 24 White to Move—Supplied by Chess.com ........................................................... 35 Word Search by Mom’s Favorite Reads .............................................................. 67

20% OFF First Book Promotion with the Fussy Librarian .............................. 54 Connections eMagazine ......................................................................................... 55

Surviving the Stone Age Interviewed by Sylva Fae

An Interview with Manse Ahmad I’ve always been outdoorsy, but the more I learn, the more I realise just how little I know. It is for that reason I help to run a bushcraft group, and I’m a member of many others – the sharing of knowledge is vital to keep these skills alive. I am always fascinated to read about others’ experiences, and learn new skills, so it was with great excitement that I discovered one of the groups’ members, Manse Ahmad, recently took part in televised project designed to find out more about Stone Age living.

The Project Manse is among eight experts who took part in a new Channel 4 (UK) experimental series, Surviving the Stone Age: Adventure to the Wild.

A little bit about Manse… Manse Ahmad is the founder of Wilderness Pioneers, based in Oxford, England, but with courses run throughout the UK. He grew up in Oxford and spent many hours as a youngster exploring Oxfordshire’s countryside, learning about and studying the fauna and flora of the area. With his naturally inquisitive mind, these early days sparked a lifelong interest in all things to do with our countryside, natural habitats and abundant wildlife. Upon leaving school Manse began to formalise his interest in the outdoors by taking courses and qualifications to teach Bushcraft and outdoor skills. Wilderness Pioneers runs training courses in bushcraft, survival, primitive and wilderness living skills, aiming to teach the practical skills needed to be totally at ease in the outdoors, and to understand the rhythm of our countryside and its changing seasons.

It is a three-part documentary which charts the challenges participants face living off the land in the Rhodope Mountains of Bulgaria for one month, surviving in the way that our earliest cousins did from as far back as 3.3 million years ago, through to the emergence of homo sapiens 300,000 years ago and the end of the Stone Age in around 3,000BC.

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As well as being highly qualified, Manse has a wealth of knowledge and experience in all areas of bushcraft and outdoor skills.

How did you get involved with this adventure? I have been involved in outdoor learning for over 30 years. As I spent more time outdoors, my learning took me in the direction of survival skills initially, then moving onto to bushcraft. However, I found that survival or bushcraft did not answer my questions on how to really live with the land, and slowly, over a decade or so I move onto primitive skills namely the Stone Age. I got involved with the Oxford University Archaeology Society, where I would go along to lectures and various talks to expand my skill set, and eventually I was given the position of Vice President of the Oxford University Experimental Archaeology Society. A friend of mine from Oxford University got approached by Channel4 (UK) looking for participants for a show about the Stone Age, and he forwarded my name, as one of the very few primitive skills practitioners within the UK.

What was the brief you were given before you applied? As with any TV work, the information that they are willing to give out is very vague! All I was told, was that they would like to take a group, or 'tribe' of primitive skills practitioners from the UK and US, and put them out in a wilderness for one month. During which time we would live entirely as a Stone Age tribe, hunting and living off the land. We would be moving approximately 300 miles in that time, going from a river-based environment into the mountains for our 'winter camp'. The aim of the project was to investigate a number of scientific factors; calorific expenditure and wear and tear evidence on equipment and clothing, and how it related to archaeological evidence.

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Did you need to prepare beforehand?

managed to have an impact on every single part of our beautiful planet. Conditions that existed 10,000 years ago no longer exist anywhere in the world, so this would only give us a vague idea on how Stone Age man would have existed.

There was a lot of preparation required beforehand. ALL of our clothing had to be made. This was ALL made from deer skins, which first had to be converted from raw skin to buckskin, and then sewn, using primitive techniques, into usable clothing. No metal was used. Our tools were made only from bone and stone. The clothing was stitched together with either buckskin lacing or thread made from the intestines of the deer. We also had to make our shoes, again made from buckskin and sinew (thread made from the tendons of the animal). In addition, we had to make all our own tools and hunting weapons. Again, ALL made using primitive techniques!

More importantly, it was an opportunity to put into practice everything that I had learnt over the decades. The difficult part was knowing what skillset everyone else had. Was I good enough? Were they good enough? Would we get on together as a 'tribe'?

What did you do during the experience? In a nutshell, we lived like a tribe! We would go foraging and hunting for food. We would volunteer to do various tasks around camp. We would help each other out as required.

In addition to that, as we were not on a 'survival' program, we were able to take in a small quantity of prepared food. Again, this had to be in keeping with what we know primitive man would have eaten. It was mainly made up of dried meat (jerky), dried fruits and seeds or flour made from natural seed harvests. We know that 'grain' did not exist at that time, so our 'flour' was made from acorns or sweet chestnuts or Arrowroot.

As a group of people from different cultures, we were lucky that we had a common interest; Primitive skills. Individuals interested in primitive skills are a very special group of people. We are trying to use simple, yet difficult skills and knowledge, to allow us to live more in touch with the land. On the whole, we are calm and open-minded individuals who get on well with others. As a consequence, we gelled very quickly as a tribe. Our days were usually quite full, most of the time being spent in the collection of food, fire wood, water and shelter construction, and letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not forget travel!

We also had to make the bags that we would carry everything in, and also our sleeping rugs. These were made from Reindeer skins (again, these were made from raw skins and tanned).

How did you feel leading up to going? Getting everything ready was a stressful time, as it all had to be ready and usable by the time we left. I know that a few of us were still sewing on the plane out to Bulgaria!

Despite the stress of finishing everything; I was excited. Here was an opportunity to live as a Stone Age tribe in touch with the land, and really get an idea on what they would have gone through day by day. Unfortunately, as modern humans, we have - 10 -

How did you fare? Did you cope well?

How did it go living alongside a film crew? I'm always fascinated how these things work.

We coped relatively well as a tribe! there were highs and there were lows. Not having sufficient food to eat is always difficult and taxing on moods and overall energy. Having successful foraging and hunting trips was always a time of joy. It took a week or so for the body and mind to fully adapt to the new way of living, but once it was 'tuned in to the natural world' it was an amazing experience. I remember us sat around the fire one night, after having eaten, and watching a full moon coming over the mountains and wolves howling in the surrounding forests...it was magical.

The film crew were pretty good and understanding of what we were trying to do as was the producer. They kept their distance and just let us get on with things. Basically we set the pace and they followed. Even to the point that they would not chew gum, or eat anywhere near us or in sight, and even wore different clothes, so that they wouldn't carry food smells on them!

What have you learned from the experience?

Traveling with a heavy backpack made of animal skins wasn't the most comfortable, particularly as they weighed on average about 25kg. We didn't have the advantage of modern rucksacks, which are designed to be comfortable.

Much was learnt from the entire experience. It was amazing to live as a Stone Age tribe and gain a better understanding of how they would have functioned as a group, and worked cohesively towards the betterment of all. Being able to use stone tools - 11 -

day in day out, helped us gain a much better understanding of their advantages and disadvantages. More importantly, the experience pushed me mentally and physically, something which has not happened for quite some time. I learnt to be more in touch with the planet and environment around me, and also, it made me more aware on the massive damage we are inflicting on the world around us. As a modern society, we are so removed from the world around us, living in our little square concrete boxes and working so that we can continue doing so. Living out in nature for a duration of time, living off the land, living with the land, reminds you of your place with in it. I think we all need to go through something like this, so that we truly understand how fragile a world we live in, and our impact on it. The research we have managed to also gather will be valuable towards a better understanding of archaeological evidence. It has also enthused me to make a greater effort in getting this message out in the courses I teach through my business (Wilderness Pioneers), and really try to encourage more people to have a much better understanding of the world we live in and have a greater appreciation for it.

Saturday 7th November at 7pm, and the series is still available to watch online. ~~~~~

Thank you, Manse for a fascinating insight into your experience, and also into the difficulties of Stone Age life. At the time of this interview, the program had not yet been broadcast. I have now watched it, and I strongly recommend it, though some of the survival parts are not for the faint hearted. The challenges the group faced were beyond anything I can imagine, and I’m not sure I would have coped as admirably as the group did. Surviving using only Stone Age tools and knowledge, is thankfully not something we need to deal with, but the series does highlight the magic of connecting with nature, and the importance of learning some basic skills. If you are interested in learning more, Manse and his colleagues, Dan and Naomi, have some Stone Age courses coming soon. You can connect with Manse through his Wilderness Pioneers social media accounts, or book courses via the website.

~~~~~

When /how can people view the program? The program is a three-part series and can be viewed on Channel 4. It was first broadcast on

Facebook:

facebook.com/wildernesspioneers

Instagram:

@manse.ahmad

Website:

www.wildernesspioneers.co.uk

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/ - 12 -

Something for Bobby by Stan Phillips

Down all the years I would see him walking in town, always walking. Did he have a car? Who knows? I only ever saw him on his two feet. Slim, grey haired with beard to match. He never seemed to change, or age. And always walked with Annette by his side. Always together. I cannot recall ever seeing the one without the other. And the love they shared cheered me on my darkest days. And the twinkle in his eyes that told of a half hidden humour at the craziness of what being human was. We didn't talk much, but when we did it was laughter all the way. We never said a lot, but always spoke the truth.

And I wish I'd known him better. Shared secrets. Told tall tales as evening shadows spread across the world. Forgave each other for the football clubs we followed.

But now, we will never speak again, or laugh. For suddenly the contrary year has taken him from us. And my walks through City Square will be lonelier. And I wish I'd known him better. Shared secrets.

So fly free old friend. We will all miss you, and perhaps when we think of you, if we listen carefully we might just hear a small chuckle on the fleeting breeze.

Stan Phillips is an 80 year old 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 - 13 -

Genealogy: Researching Your Family Tree by Hannah Howe Have you ever thought about researching your family tree? The new year is a good time to start such a venture, but where should you begin? The obvious answer is with your relatives. Talk with as many of them as possible and make a note of the stories they tell you. Myths and legends grow over the years, but quite often you will discover that there is at least a grain of truth even in the most unlikely story. Next, sketch out a rough family tree based on what you know, paying careful attention to names, births, places of residence, marriages and deaths. Don’t worry about the gaps in your family tree or any missing information - you can add these details as you go along.

their lives and their loves, their moments of happiness and heartbreak, their financial situation, how they spent their leisure time, and much more. In fact, I gathered so much information that I feel as though I know my Victorian ancestors better than some of my contemporary relatives.

Also pay attention to family records, such as letters, diaries and Bibles. Here are two examples from my research.

In the family Bible, I also discovered a letter written by my 2nd great aunt, Mary Ann Howe.

My 2 x great grandfather, William Howe, was a deacon in the local Methodist chapel. He owned a huge, impressive Bible, which has remained in my family. William recorded his

Mary Ann was born on 20 June 1858 in South Corneli, Glamorgan. Like her mother, Mary, Mary Ann was a dressmaker. As well as sentimental value, her letter is a mine of information. Written in English by a native Welsh speaker, Mary Ann’s letter mentions using the recently installed railway network and, more poignantly, states that she is well ‘at present’. Mary Ann endured poor health throughout her short life and died on

birth date, his wife, Ann’s, details, and the birthdays of their children. This gave me a starting point to discover more about my Victorian ancestors. From there, I learned about - 14 -

Mary Ann Howe died of ‘cardiac syncope’ or heart failure. Her brother, Hopkin, a Methodist Minister, was at her side. She died at Alexandria Road in Pontycymer, fourteen miles north of Corneli. What was she doing there?

21 January 1886, aged twenty-seven.

In 1882, the people of Pontycymer built the Bethel Methodist Chapel with modifications added in 1885. The design incorporated a Romanesque style with two storeys, a gable-entry plan and round-headed windows. It seems highly likely that Hopkin was visiting the chapel, accompanied by his sister, Mary Ann. Mary Ann fell ill and was taken around the corner to a house in Alexandria Road where she died.

Mary Ann’s letter. South Corneli, October 3, 1877 Dear Cousin, I have taken the pleasure of writing these few lines to you in hopes to find you well as I am at present. Dear Cousin I could understand in Mary David’s letter the note you sent me that you was greatly offended to me and I don’t know the cause of you being so offended to me unless it is the cause of not sending your hat. The reason I did not send it because you told me you was coming to the tea party. You said that nothing would not keep you from not coming and I have not had no chance of sending it after unless I send it by train. Please write and let me know for what you are offended to me for. I am very uneasy ever since I did receive the note and I do think you don’t care much about me ever since you went away. I do only wish for you to write to me to tell me the reason by return.

Because of her letter, I feel close to Mary Ann as an ancestor and remain grateful for her words and the insight into her life. So, from the Howe family Bible, I gained great insight into the lives of my 2 x great grandparents and their family, and from the details provided was able to create a detailed picture of this branch of my family. How did that picture develop? By tracing my ancestors through birth, marriage and death certificates, the ten-yearly census, newspaper articles (you will be surprised at how often your ancestors appeared in the local press), plus gazetteers, war records and sundry other documents. More about them next time.

So no more at present. From your cousin, Mary Ann Howe

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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Midwinter Madness by Lesley Hayes I should have had my suspicions about him when he started going on about his pet piranhas soon after we first met. That kind of obsessiveness usually indicates an anal personality. But I’m post-rationalising. I wasn’t into psycho-drivel before I knew Sidney.

What’s more, he doesn’t drink, hates beaches, and is terrified of large boisterous men with a smutty sense of humour. He’s an Anglophile who shudders disgustedly at the expression Pommy bastard. He never swears, breakfasts frugally, blows his nose, and farts privately with a degree of guilt.

It’s possible his name has a lot to do with his problems. I mean, people do somehow have a way of matching the impression their name conjures. Poor guy. Imagine having parents whose last name is Harbour saddling you with a name like Sidney. Life has not been kind.

So, ten minutes into our first conversation he has already told me the names of his piranhas, their distinguishing features and astonishing little habits. “Voracious appetites,” he says admiringly. His eyes are bright with passion, his lower lip moist. “They seem to prefer prawns to crabs at the moment. They’re rather fussy about their diet.”

Describe a typical Australian – go on, let rip on picturing the burly torso, the husky white grin, the sun crinkled eyes, the butch swagger, the can of lager crushed in the iron fist. Now forget all that. Smash the image flat. Turn it inside out – or more aptly upside down. Yes, now you have Sidney. He is so perfectly the antithesis of the archetypal Australian man as represented on the TV screen. He is weedy, whining, shortsighted and insecure. He has a weak jaw and bad teeth. Hardly a catch.

We get into a frenzied discussion about the relative merits of various raw meats and their comparable retentiveness of blood in water. He tells me all about the Amazonian red-bellied piranha, which has the strongest jaws and sharpest teeth and can live for up to ten years. The event – a blind date set up by one of my friends with a warped sense of humour – takes on an unreal quality, like a dream where you find yourself stark naked, bandying theosophy with the Pope. Trancelike, I end up inviting him back for coffee or whatever. It seems the only way to divert, or preferably end, the conversation. I don’t usually get backed into a corner by this kind of man. The novelty of the situation has me bewitched. There is something compellingly hypnotic about his fervour for fish. He has me hooked.

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this nevertheless seems a logical progression. That could be the brandy. I’m not averse to being the only one drinking. “I have this theory about beautiful women,” Sidney remarks. By now I’ve actually forgotten that I happen to be one, but nevertheless I show interest. I feel a persuasive thrum of arousal gnawing at my vitals. This is all the more disturbing because I’ve no previous record of misplaced desire. There is nothing the least bit fanciable about this Freudian fish fetishist. My libido has suddenly become an enigma to me.

All the way home in the taxi he raps on about them. “I call the biggest female Dame Edna,” he informs me. He almost falls through the cab door laughing. Some private joke, I suppose.

“I think inside every beautiful woman an ugly cannibal slavers,” Sidney continues. “All women have a castration complex, of course, but real good-lookers are the worst.”

In my flat he leaps enthusiastically upon the TV remote. As I watch him mesmerised by the rapidly switching channels, I wonder briefly why I’ve invited this total stranger home. Reluctantly tearing his attention from the muted images on the screen, he informs me that caffeine is bad for the heart. He asks for water instead. His questioning tone suggests it’s an esoteric commodity someone like me is unable to supply.

“They are?” I’m intrigued. Having let me get hardly a word in edgeways all night, he goes on to inform me I’m obviously a deeply unhappy person. I fake amusement and force out a hearty chuckle. I feel duty-bound and desperate to prove my profound and unconfined joy. The truth is I’m abysmally depressed. But it’s only a passing thing. I’d felt perfectly normal earlier, before our date began.

He drinks it straight, neat, unadulterated by anything remotely alcoholic. I must admit that’s something of a first when it comes to my usual calibre of guest. He frowns fractionally as I pour myself a large brandy. “Perhaps some ice,” he relents. I’ve obviously tempted him into living one step beyond the pale.

“So you’re a psychologist, are you?” I inquire snidely. “You learn a lot from piranhas,” he says darkly. Modest, but confident. I think: This has to be the loopiest man I’ve met in a long time… I wonder whether he perhaps wears a wet-suit under that drab exterior, and is secretly some kind of aquatic superman, disguised as a fishy Clark Kent. I can’t resist the lure of the bizarre. It has at times been my downfall, I’ll admit. I feel slightly reassured that I might have cracked the core factor of his appeal. I don’t object to a touch of harmless consensual kinkiness.

Thankfully we digress from fish to psychology. This is against the alternating background accompaniment of several late night movies, a recording of an old rock festival, and a live chat show, where a man seems to be extruding a piece of digested string from his abdomen. Since Sidney has taken full ownership of the remote and seems resolved to continue channel hopping without benefit of the sound, it’s hard to be entirely sure what’s happening. All of

I ask him to stay the night. - 17 -

He gives me one of those long hard stares that only men with film-star looks and rippling muscles have the right to. I’ve never been insulted with one before. “I think not,” he says. His mouth is all pursed like a maiden aunt with her tongue dipped in lemon juice. I am crushed.

seems they have already eaten, which is a relief. I am spared having to watch them devour anything. After that, like the poor, the piranhas are always with us. Sidney is mean with the time he allocates me. He has a way of turning to Clive, man to man, during our conversations. They communicate through the glass walls of the tank in a way I can’t fathom. I’m not happy about the kind of advice this finned pundit purportedly gives as Sidney translates his opinions. He seems overcritical and vitriolic in his attitude to women. Sidney says he is witty and tongue-in-cheek, but I’m not sure. Do fish have tongues? I ask Google and am not at all reassured when I’m informed that in some species the so-called tongue has teeth which help to hold the prey.

I find myself thinking about this arrogant loser all night, once he has called a cab and departed to liaise with his piranhas. I go over our meaningless conversations. I ask myself whether I am as deeply unhappy as he maintained. He seemed so certain I am half convinced. If someone like Sidney can reject me, what hope is left of having a fulfilling relationship with some superstud? After all, I’ve been in boyfriend limbo for a while now. My self-confidence plummets to minus zilch and falling. I pursue him, determined to prove him mistaken. Spurred to inventiveness, I send risqué memes via WhatsApp, and arrange the delivery of a large crate of Perrier water to his home address. I ring him, and leave messages asking politely after the health of his piranhas. For several weeks he neither picks up nor replies. I begin to wonder if he regrets having given me his entire catalogue of contact details, now that I have used them all in a vain effort to get his attention.

I lie awake after these evenings in my lonely, fantasy-rumpled bed, until two or three in the morning. I try to work out what it is about Sidney I can’t leave to rot in peace. There is of course the element of challenge, so often my nemesis. Oh what a curse an unquenchable curiosity can be! I daren’t suggest anything sexual to Sidney. He would flinch with revulsion, I’m sure. Yet I’ve developed an appalling lustful craving for every puny inch of him. I know he is bound to have erectile dysfunction, an acne-scarred back, and damp feet, but the more I consider these defects, the more interested I become. It’s Titania and Bottom the Weaver with the ass’s head all over again. What was sprinkled on my eyelids that night we met? I know how ludicrous all this is, but can’t control myself. I am too ashamed to confide in my friends.

I tell myself I am amused by his deliberate avoidance, but there is an accusatory note in my voice when eventually he answers his phone. I invite him over for a meal. “Bring the fish!” I say rashly. Until he arrives I’m not sure whether or not he has fully understood. I anticipate a damp, odorous package from the fishmonger or one steaming hot with the heavenly scent of fried batter and chips. I buy a packet of Parsley Sauce mix and put vinegar on the table, just in case.

Unbelievably, we go on like this for months. I learn all there is to know about the workings of Brazilian marine-life mentality and its direct application to the human condition. It proposes a chilling, oddly persuasive argument. You have no idea. I remember the halcyon far-off days when neither did I.

Sidney chews steadily and without comment at the casserole I’ve spent hours slaving over. Dame Edna, Clive, and Germaine survey us phlegmatically from their portable tanks. It - 18 -

Sidney has not only dedicated his life to the piranhas. He is also a frustrated psychoanalyst. I begin to wonder if he has enjoyed a stint on a psychiatrist’s couch himself. He pinpoints the phobias, personality disorders, complexes, compulsions and neuroses of all my friends, after hearing a brief description of each one. There is no way I’m going to let him actually meet them. I have to agree, they are a complicated bunch.

very same night and are confined in quarantine for a fortnight. Of course, he won’t go anywhere without them. And frankly, I can’t imagine it any other way by now.

The only way I can get to see him more often is to allow him free access to my psyche. Every time we meet he launches into a further explanatory thesis of my id in conflict with both my ego and superego. It’s a fascinating if fruitless exercise. I’m all too aware of what my id would like to do with Sidney. It’s his obstinate ego and draconian superego that are standing in my way. Sidney doesn’t respond well to criticism. I ask him in a moment of irritated daring whether he has analysed his own behaviour. Dame Edna and Germaine develop a mysterious illness that

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But we get over it. For Sidney’s birthday I give him a DVD of Jaws, which we all sit and watch at my place. Germaine sulks. I get the impression from something Sidney says that she finds it offensive. I am very down. I thought she at least was my ally. I feel the evening reflects my life: a well-intentioned failure. But Sidney says: “All right, you’ve won me over. Tonight I am thirty-five. I feel I should break new ground. Do with me what you will.” A strange thing happens. I find my attention ineluctably dragged towards the subtly-lit tank where Clive surveys me from the shadows. I’m bowled over by the quizzical leer, the arch smile, the almost imperceptible intensity beneath the surface of that cold-blooded exterior. I feel emotionally confused.

Sidney whispers: “See. He approves of you.” I get a disquieting feeling that somehow I’ve been set up. Sidney strips off with alacrity down to his unglamorous thermal long-sleeved vest and pants. “You’ve been very good for me, you know,” he confides. “I couldn’t handle relationships with women before I met you.” I seem to hear a distant, gurgled snigger from the tank. I would like to reciprocate, to report that all the intensive Freudian and Jungian stuff he’s hurled at me have had a beneficial effect. But insincerity has never been my style. I’m a slave to my instincts. Id over superego every time. “And now you can? A case of the physician healing himself, perhaps?” I am curiously reluctant to disrobe now the moment of seduction is near. I glance again towards the tanks. In the murky light I sense the watchful eyes observing me. I think of two-way mirrors, of minor eccentricities I’ve played along with. I have a refined sense of the ridiculous. Life is all a bit of a game, after all. Nevertheless, the avidity of the fixed stare of the piranhas unnerves me.

He approaches, his arms outstretched. His eyes are vacantly defenceless without his glasses, which he has cast recklessly aside, along with his clothes. He squints at me. He licks his lips. He appears to be salivating rather freely. In a gesture of sudden eagerness he rubs his hands together just below the level of his receding chin. This makes me think of a praying mantis, of mandibles poised above the feast. I see Sidney and my role in his life in an entirely new, quite sickeningly horrific light. Vampirism is one thing, but this is species identification with a vengeance. How swiftly a cool ardour retracts. Insight flashes upon me with a blood-red burst of warning light. I see myself as a substitute for Sidney’s real but impossible object of desire. What a freak he is! I am not excited. In fact, quite the reverse. Speaking as a woman, I feel scorned. Hell has no fury to match mine right now.

I scream at Sidney: “Screw your piranhas!” I lift the nearest tank and hurl it at him, prior to ejecting him from my life.

“Who among us was really the therapist?” asks Sidney. It’s an abstruse question that temporarily throws me. His tone implies an impatient indifference to the answer. His mind is absorbed in more pressing business.

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His expression is agonised as he scrabbles blindly on the damp carpet to rescue Clive. One man’s meat is another’s poison. I kick Clive out of sight under the narrow space beneath the bookcase that takes up the best part of one wall. It will be impossible to reach him there, and hopefully the wretched thing will hungrily wither there and perish. I feel no compunction about what I’ve done. Clive is the villain of the piece, the evil influence. He is the one who egged pathetic Sidney on. I saw him gloating. What he hoped to gain I can’t imagine, nor do I want to.

disappears from my life forever forthwith. I ignore his babbled entreaties about the need to save Clive. I have become hard, ruthless, triumphant. I offer him his glasses as a kind of consolation prize. He whimpers as he puts them on. Later, aware of the slight whiff of decomposing fish I realise I will have to find some way of removing it from the premises. But this is a problem for another day. I feel as though I’m emerging from a nightmare. I’ve the oddest notion I’ve escaped the proverbial fate worse than death. Knowing Sidney must have sent me the slightest bit insane.

I throw Sidney’s clothes at him and demand that he takes the remaining fish with him and

© Lesley Hayes 2020 Lesley Hayes lives in the university city of Oxford, UK, where she derives much of the inspiration for her books. As well as writing fiction she has practiced for over 20 years as an integrative psychotherapist, and the complex contradictions of our humanity is a prevailing theme in all her books. She has published nine novels and seven short story collections, all available on Amazon, published on kindle and in paperback. You can discover more about her and her life, and the muse that drives her writing by visiting her website: www.leseyhayes.co.uk and reading her blog: www.blog.lesleyhayes.co.uk

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What is Meditation? by Val Tobin Years ago, a group of people used to gather at our home every month for the express purpose of meditating. We did at least one meditation, sometimes two, depending on the length of the meditation. After a long day at work, at least one person in the group would fall asleep, waking up as the meditation concluded, groggily ‘fessing up to being mentally AWOL. But that doesn’t mean that he or she received no benefit from participating in the meditation.

What is Meditation?

per second or hertz. This frequency reflects the waking state. We enter the alpha state of 8 to 13 hertz when we are daydreaming or meditating. At 4 to 7 hertz, we are in deep meditation or asleep. This is also the level at which shamanic journeying and other shamanic activities are done. Delta waves of 0.5 to 3 hertz indicate deep sleep, profound meditative states, or healing.

A popular saying states, “Prayer is speaking to God. Meditation is listening to God.” When you begin to investigate and explore meditation, it’s one of the first things you hear from teachers, texts, and anyone else who has been meditating for any length of time. Regardless of one’s religious inclination, and whether you want to refer to God, Goddess, Source, Creator or something else, it expresses the meaning of meditation very well.

What Do You Experience When You Meditate?

Meditation consciously calms the body and mind. When you meditate, you sit in comfortable awareness, relaxing, slowing down your mind and body, though ideally not to the point where you fall asleep. However, as alluded to above, falling asleep does not mean the meditation has failed. It means you needed the rest and can try again another time. Depending on the speed with which you fell asleep, you may even have achieved some period of meditation prior to slipping into sleep.

While you should approach meditation without any expectations, there are some things you might experience that are common in meditation. For example, most people find it difficult to relax and shut down the mind chatter when they first learn how to meditate. Even those who have been doing it for years will find that at times it is more difficult to shut out the day and sit in relaxed awareness. Others, as mentioned previously, have difficulty staying awake.

Brain Wave Frequencies in Meditation Meditation takes you to an altered state of consciousness, and this is evidenced by altered brainwave frequencies. In his book, Healing Sounds: The Power of Harmonics, Jonathon Goldman outlines the various levels of consciousness and their associated frequencies. He defines four categories of brainwaves: beta, alpha, theta, and delta. Beta waves are frequencies at 14 to 20 cycles - 22 -

While you are meditating, if you are psychically open, you may receive information through one or more of your psychic channels. You may get information about your spirit guides or the guardian angels around you.

chest breathing. As thoughts about work or family or other concerns drift into your awareness, acknowledge them and let them go. Simply sit in awareness. Be interested in, yet detached from, whatever thoughts flow into your consciousness. There is no wrong way to meditate. If you find yourself distracted by an issue, then return to focusing on your breathing. Practice for about ten minutes. As you get used to meditating, you will find that you can do it for longer periods of time.

Feeling pressure in the third eye chakra is also a common experience when meditating. The third eye chakra is an energy centre located between your eyebrows. It is your psychic communication centre and helps you receive clairvoyant information. When you first begin to work with meditation, or anything that affects your psychic centre, it may spontaneously open, and you will feel this as a light pressure between your eyebrows. If this happens, just acknowledge it, and then focus on your breathing.

Group meditation helps to boost the energy of each person in the group, and some people have even experienced visions in common when meditating. When we met with our meditation group, we discussed our experiences after each meditation. It is always interesting to hear what another person felt during meditation. Whether you practice by yourself or with a group, you will find yourself looking forward to those times of silence and solitude.

A Basic Meditation There are different types of meditations, different ways to meditate, and different ways to approach meditation. A simple way to start is to put on some quiet spa music and sit relaxed in a chair. Visualize white light around you, protecting you while you meditate, or use another protection technique if you have one that you use regularly. Take three deep breaths and exhale each slowly. Then regulate your breathing to a more natural pace, keeping in mind that abdominal breathing is preferable to shallow

References Goldman, Jonathon, Healing Sounds: The Power of Harmonics, Rochester: Healing Arts Press, 2002. Disclaimer: The information presented is not intended to substitute advice from your physician or health -care professional. Before beginning any health or diet program, consult your physician.

Val Tobin writes speculative fiction and searches the world over for the perfect butter tart. Her home is in Newmarket, Ontario, where she enjoys writing, reading, and talking about writing and reading. Discover more about Val on Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/val-tobin

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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.

So, for your enjoyment, here is a page from the Coloring Book featuring some of the characters and scenes from the books.

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.

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. - 24 -

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Seeds of Wisdom by Lisa McGrath Whether you make New Year’s resolutions or not, January is a good time to reflect on your life. I like to call it planting seeds of wisdom and intention. We plant seeds each day with every moment that passes, but being intentional, well, that means we are planting with purpose and nurturing our seeds...our precious time. The seeds of wisdom are planted each day, but that’s not enough; they must be tended to, watered, and provided sunlight for growth...and this care is very much an individual effort...it’s the practice of self-care. For many years, I’ve followed the philosophy of the Indian Proverb, A House With Four Rooms by doing something for my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being daily. This is the core of my life because having this strong foundation allows me to build my Intentional Life. As an individual, there are several ways you can nurture the seeds of wisdom in your own life. For example, your physical space includes your physical body, as well as the space around you. You can exercise, eat healthy foods, and practice personal grooming habits to improve your physical well-being.

You can also declutter and organize your personal space, home, and workplace. There are also several ways to improve the well-being of the environment by having less waste, not littering, and keeping our communities clean. Your mental or intellectual well-being thrives on learning new things, having new thoughts, and practicing good habits. Nurturing the seeds of wisdom includes reading, having great conversations, and practicing new skills. Your personal development provides you the knowledge to think and converse on many subjects, but it also helps you with making decisions...decisions that can affect your emotional well-being. Your mental or intellectual well-being thrives on learning new things, having new thoughts, and practicing good habits. Nurturing the seeds of wisdom includes reading, having great conversations, and practicing new skills. Your personal development provides you the knowledge to think and converse on many subjects, but it also helps you with making decisions...decisions that can affect your emotional well-being. The Indian Proverb also cautions spending too much time in any one area over another, especially in your emotional space. Learning coping strategies and techniques to manage your emotional well-being is essential to living an Intentional Life. One wisdom seed to tend to is choosing how to respond in any given situation while - 26 -

knowing you do not have control over anything someone else might say or do. Coping skills are important to managing life; they are a way of nurturing yourself. The seed of wisdom for your spiritual wellbeing is valuable to living a life of faith, gratitude, and forgiveness. It has the power to put your life in balance by allowing you to experience grace, peace, and love. Who wouldn’t want more of that, right? So, today, I’d like to encourage you to tend your Seeds of Wisdom...the nurturing you do today will connect you to your tomorrows. Finding clarity, purpose, and direction in your personal and professional life starts with you, yet many women get stuck in all the roles they have in their ordinary lives...and they forget about themselves. The neglect can make their gardens wither and die because they get stuck in circumstances. Don’t let that be you!

In this new year, invest the time to plant seeds of wisdom in all areas of your life, and then, tend to those seeds. Provide the tender love and care needed to make those seeds grow by doing the things that will nurture your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. And as a reminder, others are watching you tend your garden, especially children...be a master gardener of your life and you’ll be teaching others.

Lisa has earned degrees in English Literature, Art History, Education, and has a Masters Degree in Liberal Studies. After studying in Europe, she became a college humanities instructor for twelve years and then a high school English Language Arts teacher for over twenty years. With an interest in healing, she continued her education in Neuro-linguistic programming, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Energy Healing, Reiki (Level 1), Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), and Life Coaching.

Lisa McGrath is an International Bestselling Author and Speaker, National Board Certified Teacher, and Personal Coach who offers inspirational, practical, and spiritual guidance. She teaches women to find clarity, purpose, and direction with the intentional acts that help them achieve their goals and live their Intentional Life with her online coaching programs, A Pilgrimage to Self, and private coaching practice at www.lisamcgrath.me.

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A Year of Foraging by Sylva Fae Featuring the fabulous family from Home Is Where Our Heart Is

I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors, and it started back in my childhood when my mum would bundle me into an old buggy and we’d bounce across the moors of Lancashire, England. I have many memories of feasting on the berries my mum picked from the hedgerows. Then later, we would enjoy pies and crumbles covered in thick homemade custard. As I’ve grown up, I’ve enjoyed simple foraging too, but it has never been a planned activity, merely a haphazard response to fruit we happen to find on our walks.

weeks’ worth of tinned and dried foods but no fresh produce. Moreover, I now had three hungry girls at home all day. I had two choices, break quarantine and shielding regulations, or find some other way to feed my family. I decided that I needed to up my game from being a fair-weather forager to actively seeking out what each season could give us. And so it started...our lockdown crisis kick-started our family foraging treks. I had a basic knowledge, but not enough. I looked to my friendly bushcrafty community for guidance and inspiration.

2020 was a strange year for everyone. Each family has a story to tell of how they adapted to the global pandemic, and we are no different. Right at the start, just as stories started to trickle into the news in England, my daughter was ill, suffering from the same symptoms named in the news articles (she recovered after a few weeks). We made the decision to quarantine ourselves, just in case. Over the following few weeks, England went into lockdown and I had to be shielded, but we live in a little cottage and the only way to be safe, was if my family shielded with me – they were happy to do so.

Home Is Where Our Heart Is The first foraging post that caught my eye was a YouTube video on nettle soup, by ‘Home Is Where Our Heart Is’. The happy, smiling faces, down to earth approach, and sheer enthusiasm of the presenters caught my attention. Not only were they fun to watch, but I was gaining knowledge of edible foods, and practical recipes I could use to feed my hungry brood. The whole family (Stella, Dane and their four children Maddox, Maddie, Bjorny and Baby Bruce) are involved in the foraging and cooking process – it reminded me of my own childhood, and inspired me to get my children involved too.

Shielding also meant we could no longer go shopping, something I’d always taken for granted. Still, I wasn’t worried, I could shop online...but when the shopping arrived, most items were missing, or substituted with tomato soup (I hate tomato soup!) I tried to put in another order, but by then the world had gone a little crazy panic buying – I couldn’t get a delivery slot for six weeks. I had approximately two - 28 -

achieve anything he wants in life, said, "of course we can," and began to create Home Is Where Our Heart Is. The response has been overwhelmingly positive and we've actually fallen completely in love with our lovely YouTube channel. Our YouTube followers and Facebook fans motivate us even more to keep creating and sharing all that nature can provide. When people comment and share that they've enjoyed and made things from our videos, this fills us with joy.

Stella and Dane live near Brighton, England, and the South Downs is where they spend a lot of their outdoor time. They also rent a horse field with woodland attached and have great fun learning about the flora and fauna there. Stella explains: “Our housing situation is complex at the moment. We're currently floating between accommodations and don't have our own home; hence our YouTube channel’s name Home Is Where Our Heart Is. We have big dreams and are saving for our own special piece of land to start our home-standing and live the simple life, but before this can happen, we are going to convert a vehicle and travel the UK. We hope to find awesome things to forage and share our travels and experiences to YouTube along the way.”

How did you get into foraging, Stella? We got into foraging through our mutual love of spending time out in nature. We both had our own knowledge from books & life, but together we found we have a great time working as a team, learning about all our natural environment has to offer us & we both love food! We spend so much time outside hiking around and adventuring through forests, that foraging has always been a growing part of us and has grown with time. Now we're out every week collecting things to make. For us, it's a great reason to get us outdoors.

So, how did the YouTube Channel start? Our YouTube channel came to life because all our lovely children love watching YouTube videos. Maddox said to Dane, "we could never be youtubers," and Dane, wanting to boost Maddox's self confidence and show him that he can

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I lived in a tipi for a while as a child. This never left me, and instilled in me a deep love for being outdoors…wandering barefoot through the bluebells. I teach children to ride horses in a mindful & holistic way. Over time, I realised that bringing the city kids out into nature itself was really helping the children with not just horse riding but increasing their happiness and general wellbeing. Parents began mentioning how much better behaved their children had been after bringing them closer to nature. The great outdoors has helped with things like building confidence and lowering their anxiety. My horse -riding lessons was always a lot more than just horse riding, more of a horse-riding childcare with some forest school mixed in. This became my passion, bringing children closer to nature through spending time outdoors with animals and nature.

And Dane? Dane has a more colourful background he's a great father with a huge imagination. Originally, Dane studied ICT and video game development only to realise how much he hates working with computers and staring at screens! Dane dropped out of school and the world of technology in search of trying to find his passion. But this pursuit was stalled for Dane after being diagnosed with OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). Dane went through some tough times with OCD, but he learnt to live with the disorder and in his quest to get well, he found his passion and peace of mind in life. He did this by spending his days hiking, foraging and living closer to nature – basically leading a more simple, sustainable way of life, away from the hectic modern-day world. Now, aged 32, those days are far away and four children later, Dane’s devoted to sharing his passion for nature & pursuing his dream of owning his own home standing. Sharing nature’s knowledge, its history, and preserving traditional heritage is Dane’s favourite thing to do. He hopes to create an air BnB that combines all these things and can provide that head space needed for anyone looking to get a break from the modern world for a while.

I'm a qualified childminder and this merged with my love for horses and nature. It is now my dream to create a saddle club on our own land one day, where all these things from horse riding to foraging blend creating a wholesome little club, that helps bring the next generations closer to nature and helps these kids get the fresh air and peace of mind they need.

How do you involve your children? When it comes to bringing up our children, we believe a traditional lifestyle with a modern - 30 -

Nettles – with a little careful harvesting, stinging nettles make a most delicious soup. Surprisingly, even my fussy children all love this. Hawthorn leaves – delicious added to soups and salads. Ramsons or wild garlic – you can usually smell this long before you see it growing along river banks. This is a great alternative to garlic, and used to flavour a variety of dishes. Dandelions – while the leaves are edible, they’re a little too bitter for my tastes. The flowers make the most delicious honey-like syrup – a favourite of Dane’s!

mindset is key. We believe finding balance between the natural world and the modern world is really important not just for well-being but for creating a more happy, sustainable future for everyone. *****

Like Dane and Stella, my whole family quickly got involved in foraging. Through watching the videos, we found new recipes, and learnt new things to forage. As the year unfolded, new delights awaited as we ventured further into woodlands, fields and moorland for free food. As I’ve seen from my foraging friends, the seasons for wild edibles varies vastly throughout the country, but here is a rough seasonal guide to start you on your foraging adventure. For all new foragers, stick with the rule of only eating something you can accurately identify. Spring Fresh greens, herbs and early blooms dominate foraging opportunities. - 31 -

Summer A season of berries and blossoms.

.Autumn / Fall

Wimberries, blackberries, raspberries – delicious in a pie or crumble, or made into hedgerow jam. There’s a great video on the Home is Where Our Heart Is channel on making blackberry leather – a fruit candy.

The season of nuts and berries, and so many opportunities for making jams, jellies and sauces to last through the winter. Hazelnuts – delicious both raw and roasted. Sloes – this year I made both sloe gin, and used the leftover berries for jam.

Hawthorn / Elderflower blossom – Stella loves elderflowers her favourite thing is elderflower cordial with sparkling water & ice on a hot summers evening.

Rosehips – although I’d had rosehip syrup in my childhood, I’d never actually picked and eaten them before. These make a delicious syrup or cordial but also add a unique flavour to mixed fruit jellies.

Rosebay willowherb – these make a delicious pink ‘honey’, but can also be dried to make a refreshing tea

Elderberries – these are probably my favourites and the most versatile – delicious however you use them. Hawthorn berries – Maddie loves Hawthorn ketchup, a tasty alternative to tomato ketchup, and really easy to make.

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Winter

Though not as abundant as the rest of the year, you can still find many late ripening berries and nuts throughout the winter months. Crab apples – these are great made into jams and jellies. My favourite is to add a little cinnamon and brown sugar to make crab apple crumble. Apple crisps make a healthy snack – Maddox’s favourite! Chestnuts – you might have to fight the squirrels for these, but we found the trees laden this year. There’s nothing more Christmassy than the smell of roasting chestnuts.

You can find identification tips, foraging techniques and the nutritional value of many more wild edibles on the Home Is Where Our Heart Is channel, as well as some of the folklore surrounding the plants and trees. If you are interested in foraging your way through the new year, seek out some inspiration, and enjoy what nature provides. https://www.youtube.com/channel/ UCZLjDmL4sjMRJdblvDOPBvA/featured https://www.facebook.com/Home-is-where-ourheart-is-106338407592590/

Contributions by Hannah Howe For Christmas, I received a book about antigravity. I’m finding it impossible to put down.

I went to my fitness club last week, for the weigh-in. They told me that my weight was perfect, for someone eleven feet taller.

My husband hasn’t talked to me for three weeks. He doesn’t want to interrupt me.

I’m not saying I overdid the mince pies at Christmas, but I tried to sit up just now and ended up rocking myself back to sleep.

I’ve got to admit, I did eat a lot of food over Christmas. However, I’m not fat, I’m just easier to see. I often wonder what my parents did to counter boredom in the days before the Internet. I asked my eighteen brothers and sisters about this and they didn’t have a clue either.

My new year’s resolution is to be more optimistic. I intend to keep my glass half full...of whisky, vodka, gin, rum...

I bought my daughter a fridge for her birthday. I can’t wait to see her face light up when she opens it. - 34 -

Chess Supplied by Chess.Com White to moveâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;Checkmate in three

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 the Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/magazines/activities/ - 35 -

Barcelona by Maressa Mortimer Shelby smiles as she gets off the plane. Visiting Barcelona for a few days feels even better than it sounded on paper. Leaving Luton in freezing, driving rain, simply to land near Barcelona where all she needs is a long-sleeved t-shirt and scarf is the best way to do January. She shivers, thinking of the grey days and endless dark nights. Sure, days will be short here too, hopefully not as short, but to see a crisp blue sky, no wind whatsoever and no puddles is bliss. Shelby wants to make the most of her time in Barcelona. She has been before, but seeing the progress made on the Sagrada Família is stunning. What a difference a few years make! The white stone is dazzling in the sunlight, and the well-placed coloured windows magnificent. Shelby sighs with happiness, Luton and freezing Old Blighty on a different planet.

down the entire street, occasionally tempted to forget her plan, and simply be a tourist. She finally decides on a restaurant. One that isn’t too expensive. She hesitates to choose her table, it has to be in the right place. She carefully puts her bag down on the floor, half under her chair. Her coat, which hasn’t been used yet today, goes on the chair across the table. Shelby sits down, relieved to see more customers seated by the time her drink arrives. Shelby carefully studies the menu, head down. Then she stands up and leaning over her table and her coke glass spends considerable time fiddling with her coat, rearranging it as well as her scarf draped across her coat. She looks down, half-turned, in time to see her plan worked perfectly. Shelby delivers a hard, sharp kick to the young woman’s wrist, half-hidden in Selby’s handbag!

The second day is as relaxing and it makes Shelby blush a little that the highlight of her day is finding the most amazing restaurant again that she remembered from previous times. Its buffet still as extensive, although her favourite is the choice of puddings. Shelby knows it makes her sound like a cheap tourist, for who would go all that way simply for delicious food? It’s not the reason, of course, it’s only a wonderful bonus, she defends herself. Walking around, watching people, drinking in the details helps Shelby to formulate her plan. She grins to herself, feeling she’ll be ‘doing her bit’ to support this special city.

The woman exclaims, then, without looking at Shelby, grabs her own belongings and disappears from the restaurant before any of the waiters can be notified. Shelby lets the waiter know, of course, but they simply shrug. “Don’t leave your belongings unattended,” the man says, unsympathetically. Shelby glares, straightening your coat for

She picks La Rambla, her favourite part of the city. Its bustling feel, the people milling around and the little stalls lining the sides of the street is her idea of Barcelona. Shelby walks slowly, her large shoulder bag held tightly. Her plan will fail if it gets simply snatched away. She meanders - 36 -

they didn’t take her fake passport. Interesting.

a minute isn’t leaving your bags unattended, is it?

She gets up, and after one last angry look at the security guard, staggers out into the street, the bright sunlight doing nothing to improve her headache or mood. By the time she has walked around the gorgeous Park Güell she feels better, but her smile only returns in full once she tastes the best hot chocolate there is. Thick, chocolatey and gooey, not the powdered stuff they sell in the cafe around the corner in Luton. Shelby smiles, blowing across the large mug, breathing in the rich flavour at the same time. With one hand she carefully feels. Yes, her real purse is still safe underneath her top, so is her passport and phone. Oh well, hopefully it will sour the pickpocket’s mood when they find out they’ve been duped after all!.

Overall, she feels pleased with the outcome of her plan, and she leans back, drinking her coke with a satisfied smirk. It seems mere moments later when Shelby opens her eyes. The first thing that hits her is the overwhelming smell and taste of vodka. She blinks, staring at the very disapproving looking security guard. “This is not for sleeping, and you are very lucky your bag is still with you.” He glares at her, but Shelby is unable to move or answer him. She shudders and gags, swallowing the taste of vodka down. Next to her is an empty bottle, her coat is half draped over her, and her bag sits on her other side, she realises after a while. The security guard is still scowling at her, hands on hips, clearly waiting for her to move on. Shelby tries to sit up, her head spinning, but after a few breaths she feels better. She frowns, the last thing she remembered was the woman trying to take her purse from her handbag, and her drink of coke. Her eyes widen, then, glaring at the security guard, she says, “I’m not drunk you know. I don’t even like vodka. I’m a red wine girl, and well, never mind. I have been drugged and robbed.” She wants to add that he’d better sort it out, but his raised eyebrows make her change her mind. Shelby tightens her lips and opens her bag. Yes, the purse has gone, but

I love Barcelona and have been a couple of times. Their hot chocolate is the best, and I loved La Rambla. Sadly, one of our friends had her bag’s content pilfered in a restaurant. The great thing in writing is that you can choose the ending, so here is an alternative ending to that dreadful incident!

My name is Maressa Mortimer, and I’m Dutch. I live in the beautiful Cotswolds, England, with my husband who is a pastor. We have four (adopted) children. I’m a homeschool mum, so my writing has to be done in the evening, when peace and quiet descends on our house once more. I love exploring questions of faith using novels, as it helps me to see what faith looks like in daily life. My debut novel, Sapphire Beach, was published December 2019. My latest novel, Walled City, launched on December 5th and I’m nearing the first draft of its sequel! Visit my website www.vicarioushome.com to buy signed copies from the shop. - 37 -

Fire by Stan Phillips

See how it comes, inexorable in the night, first just a glow through the trees lighting up the skies, dimming the stars. And closer it comes consuming everything in its fiery maw. The branches burning with sparks ascending in the smoke filled air. The smell of death hovers as creatures attempt to escape the all encompassing conflagration. "Look" cries a voice, " Its heading our way." And cars, and bikes, and vans head out into uncertainty as the flames approach overwhelmimg everything in their path. But there is no escape as first go the houses, the stores, the churches, all aglow with terrifyingly beautiful golden fire. And gas stations explode. And vehicles melt. And bodies lie upon sidewalks, cremated before their time, as nature takes its toll. And high above the birds fly, seeking a new home. A new place to bring fresh life into the charred world. But humanity weeps helpless tears and counts its dead. Stan Phillips

A Walk in the Woods by Chantal Bellehumeur For over a dozen years, Melinda felt depressed during the fall months. She could not really explain why since she had nothing to be sad about, especially not during her favourite season. Melinda was generally quite cheerful during the spring and summer months; so full of life. However, as the sky began to darken earlier during the day, Melinda felt her energy level diminish. As soon as the sun was out of sight, she wanted to go to sleep. Sometimes, she wished she would not wake up.

despite how much junk food she ate, she had a stable job that paid her rent and bills, lived in a nice enough apartment which was located in a lovely residential area and at a walking distance from many stores as well as good restaurants and cafes, plus was lucky when entering contests. She often won little prizes like movie passes and show tickets.

If Melinda told anyone how depressed she felt, they would ask her not to talk that way and that would be the end of the conversation. Melinda didn’t want to bring anyone down with her. She did need to talk to somebody though, so she got professional help.

A couple of times a week, Melinda would get a message on her voice mail saying she won a cruise. She always rolled her eyes when she heard the news, knowing the trip wasn’t quite so free. Melinda dreamed about going though, along with winning the lottery. She imagined quitting her ordinary job as an administrative assistant and exploring the world.

A psychologist recommended by Melinda’s family doctor had explained to Melinda that many people suffered from seasonal depression, but that still did not explain why Melinda felt the way she did once the weather cooled and the tree leaves started changing colours. Dr. Alberky told her it was because of the lack of sunshine and recommended she use a luminotherapy lamp for about twenty minutes per day.

Until recently, she didn’t really have anyone that would accompany her in her travels when she was on vacation, so she usually just stuck around her own city and simply relaxed with a few good books from the public library during her time off. Those days always flew by so quickly, and it wasn’t long before Melinda wished for another vacation which never came fast enough.

Melinda did feel happier when she sat under the bright light, but sometimes she neglected to do her home therapy because she felt silly and became depressed again. She often cried for no reason and did not feel like doing much.

Melinda would grumpily get up at six o’clock in the morning when her alarm went off, quickly get ready to go to work in one of her business suits and pairs of high heel shoes, then take the public transit

Melinda did not lead a particularly exiting life, but it wasn’t a bad one either. She was an attractive redhead and a lot of women envied how slim she was - 39 -

systems to get to the office because she did not own a car. There were always so many people in the bus and metro. The way everyone moved reminded Melinda of ants going about their business. In the crowd, where nobody paid attention to her existence, Melinda started questioning her life. She wondered if anyone would realize it if she ever disappeared. Her boss and co-workers might wonder where she was if she did not show up for work, but would they miss her or simply move on? Melinda did her job well, but knew that she could be replaced. During her state of depression, Melinda started feeling useless and wondered if she would be happier working for another company; one that truly helped people rather than live off their problems. She wondered if anyone was happy in their careers. All she ever heard were complaints from her family and friends. Sometimes, Melinda had the urge to pack up a suitcase and move to a hut in the jungle. She wanted to be away from the materialistic society she lived in. Everyone stressed so much about money, and a lot of it was spent on unnecessary things. Melinda loved the numerous shoes and purses she owned along with all her clothes plus the many paintings and decorations within the beige walls of her apartment, but she did not need them. Commercials made her believe she needed more stuff than she really did. People were impressed by what others had. Melinda was starting to wonder what the point of everything was.

when she spoke to them on the phone or went over for dinner. She hated to admit it, but they were kind of boring. Melinda grew tired of drinking alone in cafes or bars, and hated dating because it never went anywhere. She was getting discouraged about finding a decent man she connected with to share her life. Melinda met a lot of nice guys but didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to settle with somebody she did not click with. She did not need a man in her life. She simply thought it would be nice to have companionship. In a dream, Melinda met the perfect man. He was a caring and sensitive gentleman who swept her off her feet with his charm and simple romantic gestures. He wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t the macho or conceited type Melinda could not stand. He was unique, and very easy to talk to. She shared many interesting conversations with him; some serious and some comical. Melinda was disappointed when she woke up alone in her queen-sized bed. The empty space she touched felt warm, like somebody had just been there, and the light scent of menâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cologne was on the thin red sheets. Melinda closed her tired green eyes again to be with the handsome blue-eyed stranger who made her smile and laugh. Together, they walked hand in hand on a crowded sidewalk towards a woodsy mountain. It started to rain lightly but Melinda and her lover did not mind. It was unusually warm for the month of

Melinda wanted to find the purpose of her life. At the age of thirty-four, she had no children or pets to care for even though she was a very nurturing person, her friends were all married with kids and barely had any time for her anymore, she had no siblings to bond with, plus her parents barely left their house and did not initiate much conversation - 40 -

the Victorian streetlights by the side of the nearby road no longer provided enough light for them. They walked onwards in the dark, laughing about how lost they were in the woods, and eventually found the main dirt path. It had become a bit muddy from the rain. Melinda and her man took a left turn and avoided fresh puddles as best as they could. They did not want to ruin their sneakers. On occasion, people in dark clothing would jog by wearing hats with lit white lights on them. Bikers would zoom by and a flashing red light could be seen fading away, or one would appear in the distance and get closer.

October so the drops of water cooled them off. They had already removed their light jackets because they had started sweating. The long sleeves of their shirts had been pulled up.

Melinda decided to take a short break and sat on a large boulder to the left of the path. It wasn’t very comfortable, but she didn’t care. She looked up at the starry sky, letting raindrops gently fall on her face.

The couple continued walking, chatting about ridiculous things. Melinda felt at ease. She barely noticed the boutiques and bars she passed by because her focus was on him. His focus was on her. They almost crossed a busy intersection at a red light, but the honking of a passing dark blue car brought them back to reality and they patiently waited for their turn at the curb.

It started raining harder so Melinda’s man opened the big black umbrella he had been carrying. He stood still in front of Melinda and kept them both dry. They remained silent for a few moments, taking in the fresh autumn air. Melinda liked the smell of wet leaves. She closed her eyes to focus on the scent.

The sky grew darker, and by the time they got to the bottom of the mountain it was pitch black. They walked on the wet grass and got closer to the tall trees with large trunks and conifers. Their feet eventually hit a few fallen leaves and some broken branches.

Melinda suddenly realised that there were no pesky mosquitos around to feed on them. She mentioned it to her man, who informed her that he was usually a magnet to the blood suckers. He also said he was enjoying being in the woods without getting bothered. Melinda felt the same.

An animal ran by them; a skunk or a racoon. It was hard to tell, but Melinda presumed it was most likely a racoon because the skunk would have surely sprayed them. That would not have been good.

When Melinda was ready to start moving again, her man gently helped her up and they continued with their pleasant walk until they reached a set of wooden stairs to their right. By then, it stopped raining so Melinda’s man closed his umbrella and took Melinda’s right hand.

As Melinda and her man wandered further into the woods still holding hands, they stepped on plants and piles of colourful leaves mixed with twigs as well as rocks. They knew there were a few paths on the mountain, but had a hard time finding one. Neither one had a flashlight with them and

The couple went up each step; there were fortythree in all. When they reached the top one after - 41 -

making a few turns, they got a nice view of the highly populated city below. All the lights of the high buildings were beautiful to see, and the couple stood close together admiring the scenery. Melinda eventually felt her man’s strong arms wrap around her, and she wanted to stay in his loving embrace forever. The couple eventually continued walking upwards on another dirt path and found a stone belvedere with an even more amazing view of the city. Other couples were gazing over the short stone wall and over the trees filled with orange, red, yellow, or brownish leaves to look at the lit city. It was quiet where they were, yet they could hear the faint sounds of the small vehicles and blaring sirens below. Melinda did her best to ignore it all. She liked being away from most of the noise.

When she opened her eyes, the sun was shining through her bedroom window and onto her face. She was surprised to see that the love of her life was sleeping right next to her. He wasn’t a stranger, nor fictional. He was very real. Tears rolled down Melinda’s cheeks. She was happy that Mark was there. He had always been there for her since they met despite her deep moments of depression, but she often expected him to leave her one day and never come back. After all, she often acted like she was in her own world and sometimes created happy stories to avoid being negative.

Melinda received a nice hug, which she happily returned. She remained in her man’s arms for a while, resting her head on his right shoulder. Melinda eventually felt a gentle kiss on the top of her head and she felt the need to find her man’s lips with her own. After a passionate kiss, Melinda told her man she loved him; that he was the one. It felt like the perfect time to say it. He said he loved her too, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Melinda had to pinch herself a few times after meeting Mark the first time because she was starting to think he was a figment of her imagination.

After spending a half hour on top of the mountain by the stone belvedere, Melinda and her man headed back the way they came, making a quick stop by the water fountain for a drink.

Mark woke up and saw that Melinda was crying. He wiped her tears and took her in his arms. “I’m here for you sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.” He always knew what to say to make Melinda feel better. “Let’s go on our island,” Mark suggested smiling.

As they descended the dirt path that would bring them back to civilization, Melinda saw a beautiful reddish glow ahead of them coming from an opening in the trees. The closer she got to it with her man, the more it looked like they were approaching the opening to another universe; a very peaceful one.

A few weeks before, Mark and Melinda had made up an island in which they would go together in their minds to relax in the warm sand by the ocean with fancy alcoholic drinks served in the halves of coconut shells.

Melinda woke up before she reached the light.

“I have a better idea,” Melinda said. “Let’s go take - 42 -

a walk in the woods.” She needed something real today and Dr. Alberky had mentioned during the last therapy session that nature had a way of making people feel less depressed. He had suggested sitting under a tree for twenty minutes or so, but Melinda wanted to move around. She felt it was time for her to stop being lazy. Melinda quickly got out of bed and put some warm clothes on. “Come on! Let’s go!” she told Mark laughing as she gave a little tap on his butt. “It’s nice to have you back,” Mark responded with a smile. “I’ll be ready shortly.” After a yawn, Mark reminded Melinda that he still needed his morning coffee but then suggested they grab one to go at a nearby café. Mark and Melinda were out the door in no time, ordered their large coffees, and headed to the woodsy mountain by their home. Well, technically it was Melinda’s but Mark was almost always there and the couple planned on moving in together soon even though they had only been officially dating for six months. It was much chillier outside than in Melinda’s dream so the couple stayed close together to warm up once they reached the woods. It was much easier to see and they found a narrow dirt path right away. They also found some blackberry bushes. Melinda found the small fruits she ate a bit

sour, but good non-the-less. Several brown squirrels were seen looking for a place to hide their provisions or running up trees. They made funny noises. Birds chirped here and there, and a cute chipmunk was spotted. It ran away as fast as it came. Melinda enjoyed seeing and hearing the animals. She snapped a quick picture of a racoon with her phone camera as it slowly walked towards an open garbage can. It stopped and looked in Melinda’s direction like it was guilty of something. Melinda figured the animal was about to make a mess of the garbage can’s content. The couple moved on to the main dirt path and headed in the same direction as in Melinda’s dream. They saw a large fallen tree trunk on the right side of the path and decided to carve their initials on the dark bark with Mark’s army knife. They continued on their way and walked up the forty-three wooden steps. The city looked much different during the day than it did at night. At the top of the mountain by the stone belvedere, Mark proposed to Melinda. She had to pinch herself a few times to make sure she was not dreaming and Mark laughed. Melinda accepted of course, and her depression almost disappeared after that. Signs of it surfaced every fall, but with Mark by her side Melinda got through it.

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, magazines, plus a local newspaper. She loves using her imagination and creativity. Chantal used to act both on stage and for the camera. She met her husband while working as an extra in a movie. She has a son from a previous relationship who has inherited her artistic abilities and interest. Along with writing, Chantal loves doing arts and crafts. She’s developed a passion for painting which she finds therapeutic. As a volunteer for Crohn’s and Colitis Canada, she also enjoys impersonating different super-

heroes for their yearly charity event. She suffers from Ulcerative Colitis, and has been using writing as well as other forms of art to help her relax. She also loves to travel. - 43 -

Europe by Book by Hannah Howe Out of Sorts by Aurélie Valognes (Author), Wendeline A. Hardenberg (Translator) Ferdinand Brun hasn’t always been a grumpy old man. Many years ago, he was a grumpy young man. Now he’d much rather spend time with his canine companion, Daisy, than any of his nosy neighbors. But as his behavior becomes increasingly peculiar, his daughter grows concerned and begins to consider moving him into a retirement home. In order to maintain his freedom, Ferdinand must submit to an apartment inspection by his longtime enemy, the ironfisted concierge, Mrs. Suarez. Unfortunately, he’s never tidied up a day in his life. His neighbors, precocious tenyear-old Juliette and vivacious ninety-two-year-old Beatrice, come to the rescue. And once he lets these two into his life, things will never be the same. After an eighty-three -year reign of grouchiness, Ferdinand may finally learn that it’s never too late to start living. https://www.amazon.com/Out-SortsAurélie-Valognes-ebook/dp/ B00YXZI2H6/

The Museum of Abandoned Secrets by Oksana Zabuzhko Spanning sixty tumultuous years of Ukrainian history, this multigenerational saga weaves a dramatic and intricate web of love, sex, friendship, and death. At its center: three women linked by the abandoned secrets of the past—secrets that refuse to remain hidden. While researching a story, journalist Daryna unearths a worn photograph of Olena Dovgan, a member of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army killed in 1947 by Stalin’s secret police. Intrigued, Daryna sets out to make a documentary about the extraordinary woman—and unwittingly opens a door to the past that will change the course of the future. For even as she delves into the secrets of Olena’s life, Daryna grapples with the suspicious death of a painter who just may be the latest victim of a corrupt political power play.

From the dim days of World War II to the eve of Orange Revolution, The Museum of Abandoned Secrets is an “epic of enlightening force” that explores the enduring power of the dead over the living. https://books2read.com/u/4XX0jL - 44 -

The Scribe by Antonio Garrido The year is 799, and King Charlemagne awaits coronation as the Holy Roman emperor. But in the town of Würzburg, the young, willful Theresa dreams only of following in the footsteps of her scholarly father—a quiet man who taught her the forbidden pleasures of reading and writing. Though it was unthinkable for a medieval woman to pursue a career as a craftsperson, headstrong Theresa convinces the parchment-makers’ guild to test her. If she passes, it means access to her beloved manuscripts and nothing less than true independence. But as she treats the skins before an audience of jeering workmen, unimaginable tragedy strikes—tearing apart Theresa’s family and setting in motion a cascade of mysteries that Theresa must solve if she hopes to stay alive and save her family.

https://books2read.com/ u/3LDNp0

A fugitive in the wilderness, Theresa is forced to rely on her bravery, her uncommon education, and the compassion of strangers. When she encounters Alcuin of York, a wise and influential monk with close ties to Charlemagne, she believes her luck might have finally changed. But the biggest secret lies between Charlemagne and her father. Theresa moves ever closer to the truth, bent on reuniting with her beloved father, only to discover that her family’s troubles are inextricably entwined with nothing less than the fate of an empire.

- 45 -

Winter Wonderland by Melanie P. Smith

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

- 46 -

Â© MPSmith Publishing

- 47 -

Things to Celebrate in January by Poppy Flynn Every day of the month has some kind of official celebration and usually more than one! It might be big, it might be small…it might be wacky or downright bizarre! There are over 1500 National Days throughout the year, here’s just one observance of the many for each day in January 2021. January 1 - National Hangover Day st

warm in what is—for the most—the coldest month of the year. Whether it’s with a human or a pet, cuddling releases oxytocin which induces warm, fuzzy feelings and reduces pain so find someone to snuggle up to. January 7 - Old Rock Day th

No, this doesn’t refer to 70’s songs, it’s actually a day to appreciate old rocks and fossils.

The first day of the year, following all that New Year’s Eve revelry, is it any wonder that today is also known as Hangover Day? January 2 - Science Fiction Day nd

Commemorating the birth of science fiction writer Isaac Asimov, today Science fiction lovers need no excuse to delve into a movie or a book in this genre.

January 8 - Bubble Bath Day th

Skip the shower today and pamper yourself.

January 3 - Festival of Sleep Day rd

January 9 - Play God Day th

It might have been the holidays but weren't they exhausting? Today is a day to re-charge the batteries before school and work start again.

What would you do if you could be God for a day? Good deeds only! January 10 - Houseplant Appreciation Day th

January 4 - National Spaghetti Day

Have your houseplants been hidden by all the Christmas decs? Forgotten in all the hullabaloo? Today is the day to start appreciating them again.

You’ve had all that rich, fancy food over Christmas and New Year, you’ve finally finished the leftovers. Now it’s time to get back to a plate of good, hearty every-day food. January 5 - National Screenwriters Day th

Television might have taken the place of the humble book where entertainment is concerned, but spare a moment, while you’re enjoying your favourite programme or move to remember that someone still had to write it, first. January 6 - Cuddle Up Day th

Today encourages everyone to cuddle up with someone both for health benefits and to keep

January 11 - Learn Your Name in Morse Code Day th

While Morse Code Day itself is celebrated in April, learn your name in Morse Code Day - 48 -

January 17 - Ditch New Year’s Resolutions Day th

If you made them and then broke them, then this is the day to ditch them. January 18 - Winnie the Pooh Day th

Celebrating the Birthday of author A.A. Milne January 19 - National Popcorn Day th

What better day to sit down with the family and watch a movie, that National Popcorn Day.

commemorates that date in 1838 when Samuel Morse and Alford Vail demonstrated the use of the electric telegraph to transmit a message in morse code for the first time.

January 20 - National Cheese Lover Day th

A day after my own heart. Add cheese to today’s dinner menu.

January 12 - National Marzipan Day th

A day to enjoy all that sugary, almondy goodness. January 13 - National Rubber Duckie Day th

National Rubber Ducky Day owes its date to Sesame Street, after Ernie declared his beloved Duckie’s birthday was on January 13 . th

January 14 - Dress Up Your Pet Day th

This day was created by pet style expert and animal advocate Colleen Paige. Some pets like to be dressed up, some don’t. Perhaps just a nice grooming could be in order.

January 21 - Granola Bar Day st

Granola bars offer energy and convenience. Easily stored in a pocket, useful for packed lunches or picnics they offer healthier alternative to a candy bar.

January 15 - National Hat Day th

Not as popular as in the days of old when everyone wore a hat. Today, dust off yours and give it some love.

January 22 - Polka Dot Day nd

January 16 - Appreciate a Dragon Day th

Channel your inner Minnie Mouse and wear spots today.

Created in 2004 by author Donita K. Paul to celebrate the release of her book Dragon Spell, Appreciate a Dragon Day is a time to learn and explore the cultural and historic significance of dragons.

January 23 - National Handwriting Day rd

National Handwriting Day was established by the Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association in 1977 with a pretty obvious promotional intention. But in this day and age where more and more things are done on a computer, it’s perhaps more relevant than ever. The date was chosen because it’s the birthday of John Hancock, the first person to sign the Declaration of Independence. - 49 -

January 24 - Global Belly Laugh Day

January 28 - National Kazoo Day

This is a feel-good day, so laugh your hardest. Goodness knows we all need it after the last twelve months!

Invented by Alabama Vest from Georgia in the 1840s, Kazoo Day celebrates almost 200 years of kazoo music.

January 25 - Opposite Day

January 29 - Puzzle Day

A favourite children’s game, did you know it actually has its own day? References for it date right back to the 1920’s.

Exercise you brain. Whether it’s with a jigsaw, sudoku, brain teasers or trivia questions or word searches, sharpen up your problem-solving skills today.

January 26 - Spouse's Day th

We have Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparent’s Day, Brothers and Sister’s days, so why not a day to appreciate your other half.

January 30 - Croissant Day th

Start of your day with a delicious, flaky croissant.

January 27 - Chocolate Cake Day th

Sure to be a popular day, if you need an excuse to enjoy a delicious slab of chocolate cake, this is the day for you.

January 31 - Inspire Your Heart with Art Day st

A day to appreciate ‘Art’ and consider how it makes you feel. Monthly observances include: National Oatmeal Month, National Blood Donor Month, National Hobby Month and National Soup Month.

Poppy Flynn was born in Buckinghamshire, UK and moved to Wales at eight years old with parents who wanted to live the 'self-sufficiency' lifestyle. Today she still lives in rural Wales and is married with six children. Poppy's love of reading and writing stemmed from her parents' encouragement and the fact that they didn't have a television in the house. "When you're surrounded by fields, cows and sheep, no neighbors, no TV and the closest tiny village is four miles away, there's a certain limit to your options, but with books your adventures and your horizons are endless." Discover more about Poppy on Mom's Favorite Reads website:

https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/poppy-flynn - 50 -

Annus Horribilis by Grant Leishman “Annus Horribilis” is a Latin term that most recently entered our popular lexicon in 1993, when Queen Elizabeth II of England summarized her past year (1992), in which she had witnessed the marriage breakdowns of three of her children, as well as a devastating fire at Windsor Castle, as being her own personal “annus horribilis”. Literally translated the words mean what they look like: “horrible or terrible year”. As many of you read this article you may well be reflecting back on 2020 as your own personal “annus horribilis”. To be sure many of us will not look back fondly at the last year. Clearly, top of our thoughts on what made this such a devastating year for many will be, the virus – Covid19 that has rampaged around the world and devastated so many people, economies and psyches. It is almost as if this virus has become the overarching factor in just about everything we do in our daily lives and has dictated what many see as loss of freedoms and even sometimes, rights. Some have rebelled against the science of Covid-19 and this fractured, divisive, intensely political and partisan world we now inhabit, Covid non-believers have often set neighbor against neighbor. In many ways we have become defined by whether we follow one political leader and Covid-denialism or another political leader who embraces science. There is, it seems, no middle ground in this argument, which has led to bitter recriminations on both sides and even violence, in the extreme. To be sure, there are plenty of other happenings in 2020 that could allow the year to be viewed as an “annus horribilis”; racial injustice, hunger, depression, home-schooling, unemployment, natural disasters (climate change), the untimely deaths of many of our childhood heroes, either courtesy of Covid-19, or of some other cause. Yes, it’s truly has been a “bugger” of a year, in the common vernacular.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, however, and for that we should be extremely grateful. To paraphrase the words of one of the most divisive Covid-deniers of our lifetimes, “we have turned the corner on the virus”. Yes, with the first shipments of what will hopefully be the panacea to this terrible illness, the vaccines, we can begin to look to a return to something approaching normality by the end of 2021. To be sure, there are long, dark days still in front of us and the mask-wearing, social distancing, handwashing, disinfecting days of 2020, will be with us for a long time yet but we can see the end and that is incredibly uplifting and a reason for joy.

- 51 -

It is common for all of us, from time to time, to throw all responsibility and blame for any trials and tribulations, in our personal lives, at those that we have elected to populate the halls of power – after all, it’s human nature to always try to blame someone else for our travails, right? Or is it? In difficult times like this, I always like to revisit the great leaders, philosophers and even “prophets” of history to see what they had to say about human nature, about pain, about difficulty and anxiety. It really doesn’t matter which great thinkers of humankind, you examine; Jesus, Muhammed, Gandhi, Buddha, Confucius, Lau Tzu, or even Pope Francis, two precepts become abundantly clear that they both preached and lived. 1) Love is the most powerful force in the Universe and 2) We, personally, are responsible for our own lives and our own actions. It all starts with us – not some high-elected official or even some mystical and unknown Higher Power. The power to shape our lives, as we would like to see them, is in our own hands. •

IT ALL STARTS WITH US AS THE INDIVIDUAL.

I would love to share an inspiring and relevant quote from Confucius that I think perfectly sums up this idea of the power of the individual to change the world.

when the heart is set right, then the personal life is cultivated; when the personal life is cultivated, then the family life is regulated; when the family life is regulated, then the national life is orderly; and when the national life is orderly, then there is peace in this world.” – Confucius This quote, in its simplicity, reminds us that all change in this world begins first and only in the hearts of each and every one of us. So, as we leave our “annus horribilis” behind and dispatch it to the dustbin of history where many of us will feel it belongs, start 2021, with a realistic outlook and attitude. This year is going to be hard also, make no mistake about that. If we approach it with the right heart and an attitude of gratitude for simply being alive and being a part of this incredible family of humanity, we can rise above the travails of our daily lives and have a positive, impactful effect on the people around us. Don’t look for enormous change – remember this, you are one individual making his or her contribution. Change is cumulative and requires us all to work together for the greater good. Just make an effort every day to do something that will make someone else’s life a little better. Try talking to that friend you broke up with over the pandemic response, or over vying political affiliations. Find some common ground and reconcile with them. Here’s the thing – your righteous anger only hurts one person; YOU! Remember what Buddha said about anger: “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” – Buddha

“When things are investigated, then true knowledge is achieved; when true knowledge is achieved, then the will becomes sincere; when the will is sincere, then the heart is set right; - 52 -

“Be the change you wish to see in the world” – Mahatma Gandhi

Smile at random strangers as you walk down the street – even with a mask on, people can see the smile in your eyes. You will make their day and you will also make your own. Check on your neighbors, make sure they’re okay and offer them any help they may need. Most of all, be grateful for the greatest gift of all – YOU and always, always, spread your love around. Love doesn’t exist in a vacuum – it is meant to be shared.

So, till next month, be a beacon to the world and let the light of love, joy and peace, shine out on you and yours. Have an incredible 2021 and enjoy this special present we call life. CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY!

Since I’ve gone deeply philosophical in this month’s article, I want to end with another quote that never ceases to inspire me, as an individual. This quote has been cited many times by many great people but I believe the first person to actually express it was India’s great spiritual leader, freedom-fighter, and peace activist, Mahatma Gandhi:

EMBRACE THE OPPORTUNITIES LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU AND ALWAYS, ALWAYS FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS! HAVE A GREAT LIFE AND SPREAD THE LOVE! CHANGING THE WORLD – ONE PERSON AT A TIME

Grant Leishman is a fifty-nine-year-old full-time author and editor, domiciled in the beautiful island of The Philippines. After careers in finance and journalism, Grant finally found his true bliss in life, writing. He is happily married to Thess and they have two daughters, Rose and Angeline. Discover more about Grant on the Mom's Favorite Reads website https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/grant-leishman - 53 -

National Hat Day by Melanie P. Smith

January 15th

The History of Hat Day…. Nobody really knows the precise moment the hat was born. The earliest, confirmed hat was worn by a bronze-aged man nicknamed Otzi, whose body was found frozen on a mountain between Austria and Italy. It is believed he died around 3250 BC. He was wearing a bearskin cap with a chinstrap made by stitching several hides together. It very closely resembled the Russian fur hat.

Cover design created to honor National Hat Day

National Hat Day is an unofficial holiday that celebrates one of the oldest human accessories. Throughout the ages hats have been worn for a variety of reasons, for example: religious purposes; to denote ones nationality; to signify social status, or a branch of the military; to indicate a position of authority; for fashion; to make a statement; and for more practical reasons like protection from the sun, rain, snow and other elements.

However, the custom might go back even further than that. One of the earliest depictions of a hat was painted in a Thebes tomb believed to be over 5,300 years old.

To celebrate this important article of clothing that has prevailed for centuries, each year on January fifteenth, millions of people dust off their hats and wear them proudly in celebration of fashion, history, and longevity.

Wherever it originated, one fact remains — the hat is here to stay. It has changed and transformed to accommodate the whims of mankind; but, so far, it has endured the test of time.

It is unclear exactly when this holiday started— or who started it. Ironic, considering the history of this fashion accessory.

Unfortunately, the details behind the invention of the hat, as well as the holiday, remain mysteries that have yet to be solved.

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! - 54 -

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Discover more about Connections eMagazine on their website here: https://melaniepsmith.com/emagazine-landing/ - 55 -

One Hundred Yards by Ross G. Homer “Luke! I’m your fa...” My Dad yelled, “Luke! Get up!” “Luke! Use the For...” Those movie clips banged around in my mind as I climbed up through the fog of gray pain. My head swam. I vomited. And then the pain hit. Something was terribly wrong.

wrong shoes because I wanted to get the hay in before this winter storm got worse. Well, it got worse and now I was in a whole world of shit. So much for a soft landing. I had slipped on the wet sill and fallen. How did I miss that trailer below? Didn’t know. I did know that I landed a hundred yards from the house. That was when I tried to stand. Bad mistake.

Slowly I opened my eyes. I was lying on something hard and cold and no; it wasn’t my exhusband. It was worse, if such a thing was possible.

The pain shot through me like a lightning bolt. I pushed up on my right arm to see if I could figure out how bad off I was. Probably wasn’t a good idea.

When I could focus, I saw white. I was surrounded by white. My confused mind tried to make sense of it. It couldn’t be my bed. I had blue striped sheets and it definitely wasn’t hard. What the hell...?

First thing I saw was my right wrist. As I fought fading to black, I realized that my hand was bent entirely the wrong way. Still fighting for consciousness, I looked farther down my body.

Now I could see, and I knew I was in deep, deep trouble. I was not in my bed. I was not in a hospital bed. I was lying on my right side, outside in the yard. It was snowing. Hard. Then it came back to me. The hayloft. Taking bales off the trailer. The warmth of the barn, the wet up there at the upper door. And me in the

Right leg. Definitely broken mid-calf. I took a deep breath. I raised my left arm. It was good. Left leg? Shit. I’d landed on a rake; one I should have put away last fall. My left calf was firmly impaled on most of the hard steel tines. I fell back, staring straight up into a blanket of falling white. Was this going to be my shroud? Dead because of stupidity? I remembered laughing with others on Facebook about people

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doing the stupid things people did. Karma has caught up with me.

an aluminum and glass phone isn’t good and this phone was toast. Another mistake.

I wondered through my fog if other people were going to laugh at me for exactly the same thing.

Screen shattered; case bent. My ass, amongst other things, was going to hurt from landing on the damn phone. Great.

My Dad yelled, “Luke! Get your lazy ass in gear and come in the house! Now, girl, before it’s too late.”

I raised my head and tried to see through the whiteout. One hundred yards. Is that my epitaph? One hundred yards but she wimped out? Crap. I certainly hoped not.

My name is Lucretia DiBartolo. ‘Luke’ for short. My Dad had a terrible sense of humor and hung me with the name of a killer. Thanks Dad.

I had to take Dad’s advice, dead or not. I had to get to the house. I felt it getting colder and my jeans and barn jacket, warm as they were, weren’t going to cut it much longer.

Wait! Why is he yelling at me? Dad’s been dead for ten years. Oh shit. Was I that close to joining both him and Mom?

Groaning out loud, I reached down and moved my right hand across my stomach. Now came the fun part. Getting that rake out of my leg.

“Lucretia Ann, get your ass up! Move it!” But I couldn’t move. I could feel warmth where blood was puddling around my left leg and knew this wasn’t a good thing. Freeze or bleed to death. Great choice.

Slowly, I leaned up, thanking God for all the crunchies I did, raised my left leg and smacked the rake. It fell out of my leg. I watched and waited a moment. I was bleeding but not gushing. A small miracle. I didn’t think I’d bleed to death.

“Move it kid! Don’t disappoint me.” I moaned out, “Thanks Dad.” I knew it was useless to yell because there was no one on the ranch today but me. My daughter was in town with her fiancé, picking up her wedding gown. I asked her this morning to postpone a week. Let this storm go past us. No…she is nineteen and stubborn as a mule. And out driving in this crap. Now I had two things to worry about.

Now came another hard bit. I had to roll onto my left side and, using my hand and left leg, pull and push myself across the yard. One hundred yards. I tried it the first time. Yeah. This is gonna suck. Four inches? God, is that all? I was starting to get cold. Great. Luckily, if there was such a thing, the cold was keeping the pain away.

No. One more. Crap. The wedding was tomorrow. Shit. Mom in a cast. Wonderful. I wondered if I could get a cast to match my peach dress. Hell, for that matter, would I be out of the hospital?

“Luke, use your strength. Goddammit girl, you can do this. Your Mom knows you can do it too.”

My mind takes weird turns in dire situations. Who gave a shit if my dress matched my cast? I needed to make that hundred yards first.

“Right Dad. You ain’t out here. You died in a plane crash. In summer. So, shut th’ fu…” I caught myself… “Just shut up.” To add to everything else, now I’m talking to a dead guy.

Snow was coming down harder now at a threeinch an hour rate. Whiteout conditions. Luckily, I could find the house blindfolded.

Another pull, another push. Repeat. I giggled. Like washing my graying hair; wash, rinse, repeat. Pull, push, repeat. I told you I was losing it.

Phone! Shit. Gritting my teeth, I used my left hand to snake it out of my right back pocket. It was worthless. Now I’m not a big girl at all but still, a fall from the hayloft onto what is basically - 57 -

Then there was a momentary pause in the blowing snow. The driveway! Almost there. Pull, push. Pull, push. I saw the steps leading to the kitchen. Thank God.

A few more hard inches. Then a goddamn root. A ragged edge snagged my belt, stopping me dead. I screamed, or I thought I did, “Why is this damn tree here?” Oh. I’d planted it with my Dad when I was in the first grade. I felt myself beginning to lose it.

<<<<>>>>

Dad didn’t help. “I’m gonna come whup your ass Lucretia. Get up and get moving. Now!”

Thank Gaia that I loved this girl. That drive into town was tough enough but to pick up the dress? Jeeze…we could put the wedding off until next week when this storm passed. Her mom had asked her to do that. But no. She was getting married tomorrow no matter what.

“Go away, Dad,” I replied to the vision of him standing a few feet away. Interesting effect that...my father standing there with snow blowing through him. But I managed to move off the snag, then pulled with my left hand and pushed with my leg.

I couldn’t see it. Nobody was coming from out of town. Besides her mom, it was just my girl, some mutual friends, and me. Her brother was overseas and couldn’t get home. All my family was back east. They weren’t wild about me marrying some girl who lived on a ranch out in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho. At the moment, I was wondering why I was, too.

The pain was coming back. I tried to push it away. It was the only way I was going to do it. The only way. My gloves were soaked now. Was I going to lose fingers? I worried about my right wrist and leg. How bad was it going to be? I rested for a moment.

Shit what a storm. Pure whiteout. Every inch of it was pure, white knuckle driving.

After what seemed like days but was only minutes, I hoped, I looked back. I’d covered about thirty feet. Somewhere out there was the house, hidden in blowing snow. Crap. Well, I’ve never been considered a sissy, so I pushed on. Pull with my hand, push with my leg. I couldn’t feel my right arm now.

We crept along, not more than about seven or eight miles an hour. Linda saw the mailbox.

You know? No one ever tells you just rough a yard can be. I thought mine was fairly smooth. Boy, was I wrong. There are sticks and rock and more of those damn roots. I felt like I was hitting every single one of them. I made a promise to myself that if I survived this, I was going to haul in dirt and cover everything to putting green smoothness. If I survived. “There! Ron, see it?”

I glanced back. I was leaving a bloody trail. I think I’d ripped my left hip open on something too. The snow thickened and I couldn’t see beyond the end of my leg now, either. Probably a good thing.

I grinned. Two damn hours on the road to drive five miles. On the plus side, Linda and her mom had the absolute best scotch, and I was going to avail myself to some about three seconds after I got through the door. I may - 58 -

Tension had been building between us. Both pre-marriage jitters and this seemingly neverending drive.

even take the time to pour it in a glass before slugging it down straight from the bottle. “Yeah, Linda. I see it.” I turned slowly in the drive, glad they had put reflective markers on both sides.

Through a tiny break in the snow, I saw the end of the drive up ahead. I offered up a silent prayer to Gaia as the snow engulfed us again. I knew it was about another thirty feet.

“Careful, Ron.” “Linda,” I looked at her, “I can see the driveway. Okay? Be quiet and let me concentrate. Why you have this curve in it is a mystery.”

I bumped over something. “Linda? Did you see what I hit?” She shook her head. I’d been up this drive a thousand times and there was nothing, nothing at all, to run over.

She crossed her arms because she was getting huffy. “Because it’s neat.”

Ross G. Homer was born in Florida some years ago. He grew in locations all across the south and eventually ended up in California. He spent a couple of years going to college before joining the Air Force as a photographer. After spending ten somewhat interesting years in the Air Force, he settled in Alaska where he worked in a variety of occupations before retiring and dedicating his energies to his life-long interest in creating fantasy and fiction. Other pursuits include photography, music he's a flat-pickin' blue grass/folk singer and guitar player, bicycling, both road and mountain, hiking and cross-country skiing. He is the author of a wide range of genres: sexy romantic action-adventure, thrillers, mysteries, science fiction, and fantasy.

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Mom’s Favorite Reads Author Melanie P. Smith Melanie P. Smith is a multi-genre, American author of Paranormal, Criminal Suspense, Police Procedural and Romance novels. Long before she delved into the world of fantasy and suspense, Melanie served nearly three decades in the Special Operations Division at her local sheriff’s office where she worked closely with all of the specialty units including Search & Rescue (SAR), the Mounted Posse, K9, the Motorcycle unit and the SWAT Team. During this time, she also coordinated communications and logistics for SWAT & SAR on hundreds of emergency callouts and she was a member of the Logistic Unit for the Child Abduction Response Team (CART). Melanie P. Smith was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. She has an Associates of Science degree in Marketing, a bachelor’s in Business Management, and a Masters Certificate in Conflict Resolution, Negotiation and Mediation.

HOLIDAY SERIES https://melaniepsmith.com/holiday-short-stories/

Christmas with the Hunters—Holiday stories of love and healing.

Website https://melaniepsmith.com/ Facebook @melaniepsmithauthor

She now uses that education and training to create stories that are action-packed, gripping and realistic. When Melanie’s not writing, she can be found riding her Harley, exploring the wilderness or capturing that next great photo.

IMMORTAL SERIES (Romantic Fantasy) Part Mortal, Part Divinity, Fully Devoted. Divergence: Book 1 Meet the immortals The wiccan, the shifter, the Master of Water, the siren, the healer, the Reader of Minds. Their destiny awaits — if they accept their fate and unite to confront a dangerous enemy in the battle of a lifetime.

Hidden Lakes (Romance) She thought she was starting a new chapter but maybe she’s just reliving the past.

https://books2read.com/Hidden-Lakes

https://books2read.com/Divergence - 60 -

THIN BLUE LINE SERIES (Criminal Suspense) Mount Haven Book 1

Moondance Ridge Book 2

Subterfuge Book 3

She escaped — now he wants her back. Refusing could be deadly.

When evil finds her, will the hunters become the prey?

When someone you love vanishes, how far would you go to get them back?

eBook https://books2read.com/ Mount-Haven

eBook https://books2read.com/ Moondance-Ridge

eBook https://books2read.com/ Subterfuge

AudioBook https://geni.us/ MountHavenAudio

AudioBook https://geni.us/ MoondanceAudio

AudioBook https://geni.us/ SubterfugeAudio

PAIGE CARTER SERIES (Police Procedural) Season 1– available in Audiobook https://books2read.com/Paige-Carter-S1

Season 2 https://books2read.com/Paige-Carter-S2

Season 3 https://books2read.com/PaigeCarterS3

Season 4 https://books2read.com/paige-carter-S4

https://melaniepsmith.com/paige-carter-series/ - 61 -

WARRIOR SERIES (Paranormal Romance) https://melaniepsmith.com/warrior-series-2/

Dusk: Book 1

Dawn: Book 3

Shadows: Book 4

Chaos: Book 5

lethal

Every wound leaves a scar

Just when her life was back on track everything changed

He saved her, now she’s determined to return the favor

He has a troubled past, she can barely survive the present

https:// books2read.com/ Dusk

https:// books2read.com/ After-Dark

https:// books2read.com/ Dawn3

https:// books2read.com/ Shadows4

https:// books2read.com/ Chaos5

After Dark Some secrets can be Book 2

SHORT STORIES / NOVELLAS Serendipity: Warrior 2.5 https://books2read.com/Serendipity

Intrepid: Warrior 4.5 https://books2read.com/Intrepid

Exposed: Book 6

Progeny: Book 7

Two men, one woman

When past and present collide— there’s no escape

https:// books2read.com/ Exposed6

https:// books2read.com/ Progeny7

Love Can Wait https://books2read.com/LoveCanWait

Imprinted: Lorimar Shifter Series https://books2read.com/Imprinted - 62 -

Nicholas Winton — The British Schindler by John Greeves The Man Behind the Myth

story...he wasn’t alive then, neither was Doreen Warriner. I think he felt it became unbalanced because it all focused on him. There wasn’t much he could do about it. The more he complained, the more they insisted that he was a brave © Barbara Winton hero who had singled handedly saved all of these children.”

If you ever find yourself at Prague Station take the time to visit Platform 1A to see a touching memorial to Sir Nicholas Winton who along with others helped to save 669 local children from the Nazi Concentration Camps. The Kindertransport was the movement of German, Polish, Czechoslovakian and Austrian and mostly Jewish children to Great Britain in 1938 and 1939. The movement saved 10,000 children, a small number compared to the million and half children who perished in concentration camps. More importantly, the movement demonstrated, even in the worst of times, how human resolve can still be used in saving lives. The Kindertransport was unique in that Jews, Quakers, and Christians of many denominations worked together to rescue these children.

The real story began in 1938, when Nicholas Winton received a phone call from Martin Blake, cancelling their skiing holiday to Switzerland. Martin told him he should come out to Prague to see what was happening. At the time, Nicky was a 29 year old stockbroker in London, but nevertheless he left work and arrived in Prague on New Years Eve. This subsequently led to a meeting with Doreen Warriner, the volunteer head of the Prague office of the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia who Martin was helping. Many of the refugees had fled Sudetenland after the Munich Agreement on 29 September 1938. This accepted the annexation of the Sudetenland to Hitler in return for “peace in our time.” It was supposed to halt any further German expansion but many refugees remained sceptical of this act of appeasement.

While he was alive Nicholas Winton (known to his family and friends as Nicky) was always keen to make light of the role he played in the evacuation. “I wasn’t heroic because I was never in danger,” he claimed in one interview. When the story eventually broke 50 years later in 1988, he felt that insufficient praise and recognition had been given to his colleagues Doreen Warriner (the driving force behind the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia (BCRC in Prague) and Trevor Chadwick. Both had stayed in Prague up to the outbreak of war, warding off the attention of the Gestapo while he had returned to take charge of the British end.

Prague had 25,000 refugees alone, who had fled to the city after the Munich Agreement fearing retribution from the Nazi authorities. The BCRC worked mainly with those refugees that had criticised Hitler and included individuals such politicians and their families, communists and intellectuals. As Barbara Winton explains:

As for being dubbed the “British Schindler” Nicholas Winton always felt it undeserving, believing that all the attention and rightful praise really belonged to others. As Barbara Winton (daughter) points out “Nicky always thought the awards he received were a bit over the top and that his role was blown out of proportion because he was the only person alive they could focus on at the time. If Trevor hadwick had lived another ten or twenty years, he probably would have been the hero of the

“Czechoslovakia was supposed to be independent, but there were German agents already there trying to get hold of these people who were obviously very clearly opposed to the Nazis.” - 63 -

Nicky became engrossed in all that was going on, visiting refugee camps and finding people desperate for food, money, shelter and safety. People would approach him in the street and ask for help with their children and he became aware nobody was focusing on them and maybe he should do that.” He was encouraged in his efforts by Doreen Warriner to focus on these children. Nicky created an unauthorized “Children’s Section” of the Committee and set up operations in Prague, sometimes working out of his accommodations, the Hotel Sroubek (renamed Hotel Europa) on Wenceslas Square. While in Prague (for three weeks) he met an English schoolmaster called Trevor Chadwick who like Nicky had been moved by the plight of the children. Trevor offered to oversee the evacuation of refugee children from the Prague end, if Nicky could take charge from the British end by obtaining government permission to bring unaccompanied children into the UK. The Home Office eventually agreed to this request, providing Nicky could find foster homes and a £50 guarantee (£2000+ in today's money), for each child he brought over. No easy task. “It was finding families and people who were prepared to take in a stranger and finance them basically, because there was no government funding involved,” Barbara says. Nicky also had to raise money for bribes to be passed on to key Nazis and Czech railway officials, who threatened to halt trains or seize the children unless they were paid off as well as the task of securing the endless paper work. In all Nicholas Winton and his colleagues arranged for eight train transports which took the children to safety. On March 15, 1939, the Nazis invaded the remainder of Czechoslovakia. On the previous day, March 14, 1939, the first Kindertransport train had left Prague. These were always met by Winton and his mother, Barbara, when they arrived arrived in London. In all, eight train transports saved around 669 children. A ninth train, due to depart on September 3rd, failed to leave the station in Prague, due to Hitler’s invasion of Poland and the outbreak of war that followed. It left 250 children on the platform. None are known to have survived. All were believed - 64 -

to have perished in concentration camp. Once the Germans had invaded, Doreen and her team had fled before they were arrested for helping refugees from escaping. Trevor soon followed. In the assessments of their roles, Nicholas Winton always considered Chadwick © John Greeves did the most difficult and dangerous work after the Nazis invaded and should have been the one who deserved all the plaudits. Towards the end of 1939, after all the train transport has ceased, a prescient volunteer on the Kindertransport project put together a scrapbook of letters, reports, photos and other documentations and handed it to Winton as a memento. This would later have major ramifications, becoming the object that propelled the story into public view, 50 years on.

When war broke out, Nicky left the Stock exchange in August and volunteered as an ambulance driver in Normandy for the Red Cross. He was later evacuated from Dunkirk before joining the RAF. At the age of seventeen he had already obtained a pilot’s license. He was a member of a flying club and had met people like Amy Johnson. He hoped the RAF would train him as a fighter pilot but he was turned down because of his eyesight. Instead, he ended up as a ‘Flight Trainer,’where he instructed pilots using a Link Trainer (flight simulator) in night flying. After the war, Winton worked for the International Refugee Organisation and then for the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development in Paris doing work for the Marshal Plan. Here he met Grete Gjelstrup, a Danish secretary and they married on 31 October 1948. They settled in England where he later worked for a number of small businesses for the remainder of his career. They had three children, one of them, Robin, sadly died the day before his seventh birthday. After he retired, Nicholas Winton spent much of his time doing voluntary work. He became president of the Maidenhead branch of Mencap for over 40 years

and co-founder and president of the Abbeyfield Maidenhead Society.

false pretext of checking the accuracy of the script and not to become part of the public performance that followed. According to Barbara, “What happened that evening in the TV studio was a producer’s delight- an ambush of an unsuspecting innocent” The programme makers were delighted because they had produced bucketfuls of tears and high drama and an emotional intensity with scant regard to Nicky’s feeling. He felt tricked and misled. It took Barbara’s parent a long time to forgive Ester for this emotional ambush.

Winton did not hide what he had done in 1938/39 but it was not known publicly because he didn’t think he had done anything remarkable. Barbara tries to explain his ambivalence by saying, “It wasn’t that he never mentioned it, it was just that it wasn’t something that he had a continuing fascination about. He always had something more important currently to talk about.” Years later, during the mid-eighties, Winton thought the scrapbook might be of some interest to historians. He approached various Jewish organisations to see if the scrapbook would be of interest to them. Several expressed an initial interest, saying they’d be in touch, but they never did.

In the following years Nicholas Winton was awarded many honours, including a knighthood, an MBE, the Freedom of the Cities of both Prague and London, and the Order of the White Lion, the Czech Republic’s highest honour and many other awards. According to Barbara Winton, what was more important than all these accolades for Nicky was meeting the Kindertransport children (now grown up) and discovering the fascinating lives they had led. “A new aspect of his social life developed in 1988, which grew over time,” she says “and in 1999 when my mother died some of these people became very close to him and were key to his well being...it always about the people for him.”

It wasn’t until Winton’s late wife Greta passed the scrapbook to Dr Elizabeth Maxwell, a historian who was researching the history of her husband Robert Maxwell (newspaper proprietor) a Czech Jew and preparing a conference on the Holocaust that knowledge of the Prague Kindertransport became public knowledge. Dr Maxwell was entranced by the compilation of letters and other items in the original scrapbook. What was most compelling for her were lists at the back comprising of all the rescued children, in addition to the names and addresses of those who had agreed to foster them in 1939. It wasn’t long before a three page article appeared in the Sunday Mirror. That in turn, led in February 1988 to an episode of “That’s Life,” a television show presented by Esther Rantzen. Here Nicholas Winton was reunited with some of the children he had helped. He was in his late 70s and was given no warning about what was going to happen. He had been invited along under a

The man who professed he never wanted to be a hero lived to be 106 and died in his sleep on the morning of 1 July 2015. He symbolised the power of good and the positive force people can have in negating darkness when they share a common humanity.

Link: If it's Not Impossible: The Life of Sir Nicholas Winton by Barbara Winton, Publisher: Troubador Publishing 2014

John Greeves is a creative writing tutor. He originally hails from Lincolnshire. He gained a Masters degree at Cardiff University and previously worked at Sussex University.

When he’s not teaching for Continuing and Professional Education, he writes poetry, short stories and features, and runs the occasional workshop.

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A Covid Christmas Submitted by Poppy Flynn Written by Jan Age 10

Christmas in our family is always spent with family. We wake up Christmas morning, wake up Mum and Dad and my siblings, we go downstairs and take it in turns to open presents. After we have done that we go and put flowers on my sister’s grave, then we go to my Mamgu and Tadcu’s house for Christmas dinner with my aunty and cousins. We eat a lot and have fun and have lots of laughs, then we exchange presents before we have pudding. Once we have said goodbye, we go home to play with some of our presents and watch a Christmas film. On Boxing Day, we go to visit our Nan and Grandad where we do Christmas Day all over again with all my other aunts, uncles and cousins there with us.

This year it will be very different. Because of coronavirus we will not be able to do all that this year. Welsh covid rules say we can only mix with two households which means I can’t see the majority of my family. So, this Christmas we will be spending it at home so that we keep everybody safe.

After we have dinner we open presents and play charades. We have done this since I was a baby.

Hopefully next Christmas we can spend it all with family once again. Stay Safe. Wash hands. Stay 2 metres apart,

And have a safe but happy Christmas.

*Mamgu and Tadcu are the welsh words for grandmother and grandfather. - 66 -

Word Search By Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Favorite Reads

You can find the answers for this activity on the Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/magazines/activities/ - 67 -

Keep Going by Father Ian Maher Something that quickly becomes apparent when reading the gospel accounts of Jesus’ life, is that his disciples were far from perfect. They got things wrong; they misunderstood Jesus; they even, at times, thought they knew better than Jesus did. That ragbag group of followers were far from perfect and, when you think about it, they were the least likely bunch of people through whom the church would grow and flourish, spreading eventually to every part of the globe. I find that immensely encouraging and you may do, too. Because very often, people misunderstand what it is to be a Christian. Some of the mistaken views are that Christians are ‘holierthan-thou’, ‘do-gooders’, ‘out of touch with life’, and somehow set apart from struggles and pain of everyday life. We can, however, look at the lives of the disciples and see something very different.

They were ordinary people, just like us. Sometimes they got on well with each other, at other times they argued and fell out. Sometimes they listened carefully to Jesus, at other times their own thoughts and ideas got in the way. Sometimes their faith was strong, at other times they struggled with doubt and disbelief. And in today’s gospel reading, we see an example of them really missing the point. For several years they had accompanied Jesus on his travels in a way that was quite usual for how disciples learned from their rabbi (teacher). Despite all that they had been taught, and the example that Jesus had set for them, Luke recalls a time when all that appeared to have been forgotten. The disciples end up arguing about which one of them would be regarded as the greatest.

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We can almost imagine Peter, James, John, Andrew, and all the rest of them jockeying for position. Jesus responds, perhaps wearily (it’s hard to tell), by reminding them that is the way of the world rather than the way of the kingdom. Real authority is not about prestige and position, not about the powerful lording it over others, but about service. The whole of Jesus’ life, ministry and teaching – to that point and beyond – was to set the example for his followers. Eventually, the penny dropped for all of them except Judas, and with all their frailties and foibles, they lived out their lives in the service of Christ and his church, nearly all of them paying the ultimate price for their faith. That does not mean they lost all their rough edges or suddenly became perfect human beings. Clearly that was not the case. Their same human weaknesses remained.

What their encounter with Jesus brought about, when looking at the life of the disciples as a whole, was a change in direction towards living according to the values of the kingdom of God as best they could in the time they had. That was because they had understood, through Jesus, that they were loved and accepted by God for who the were. It was not something they needed to earn or achieve but simply a gift of grace. There is then, hope for all of us as followers of Jesus, even with our weaknesses, and our faults, and our failings. When we fall short it does not make us less Christian but serves simply to remind us of our brokenness. What we then have to do is take to heart the words of Jesus, pick ourselves up, and carry on as best we can, living lives of faithful service to God and our fellow human beings. We just need to keep going.

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

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Sausage and Peppers Submitted by Whimsical Cook — Adrian Czarnecki I love, LOVE Sausage and Peppers be it with Garlic Bread, or served over Spaghetti or Angel Hair. In fairness this is a hotchpotch recipe based on memories of how my mum used to make it when I was a kid and then me just adding stuff on a whim. As for measurements, me bad, I generally just throw stuff in but then again, I have been making this for so many years – say no more. That said, if there is a secret, well three, it’s (1) brown the Italian Sausage and (2) to cook long and slow. I’m talking along the lines of 5 – 6 hours and believe me those hours will seem to take forever to pass by as the smell wafts through the house and the taste buds go crazy in anticipation and (3) grated Parmesan – loads of it.

OK so where do we start. Well me being me (say no more) and to perk up the taste buds, I use three different types of Italian Sausage Hot, Sweet and Mild. There are 5 links in each pack (approx. 19 oz) so believe me we are making a LOT of Sausage and Pepper; enough for six pretty good servings.

OK enough of me being a clever so and so, out with a large, LARGE, frying pan into which I have drizzled a little olive oil which is heated up until it spits if you flick a little water into it. See, I am a smart you know what. OK oil is ready and into the pan goes all the sausage for browning (sealing in the flavor). After searing them for a few minutes, I turn the heat way way down now and simply let the sausage brown regularly turning them to ensure even browning. May seem excessive but I pretty much leave the sausages in this low heat browning stage for 20 – 25 minutes and just flip them every now and then. Also gives me time for the next stages. Hey, me being smart ‘Man-and-timemanagement’ being employed in the kitchen.

Anyone who has tried to cut sausage into ½” portions knows that it’s not a lot of fun so what I do is I put my links in the freezer for a couple of hours – the ones in the pic where vacuum packed and came from my freezer. Hey presto, cutting them into bite size portions is now pretty darned easy as the picture shows.

So, whilst that’s going on over to the chopping board and lots of yummy ingredients like Green Peppers, Onions and Tomatoes. I cheat with the tomatoes, me bad, as I use a 24 oz tin of diced tomatoes (pic shows 2 x 14.5 oz tins). My mum, a Yorkshire lass believe it or not, god bless her soul, would probably beat me with a stick for that as she would insist on using fresh tomatoes. - 70 -

I have a large 8 qt (7.6 ltrs) cast iron pot (Dutch Oven) that I like to use. Don’t know why but I feel that controlling the ‘simmering’ using a cast iron pot seems so much easier – probably all in my mind but hey, this is my recipe – sort of.

but I never ever pour the fat from the sausages down the sink. I prefer to strain into a bowl or pan and when cool dispose of in the trash can – just saying, but grease can cause expensive plumbing blockages.

OK, I’m rambling – back to the recipe. Sorry about the tinned tomatoes mum but I’ve now put 24 oz. of diced tomatoes into the pot which is already on a very, very low heat. I’m adding the onions and green peppers as I slice them and stirring everything in. (Tip on doing the peppers as those little seeds can be pesky – I top and tail the peppers then insert a sharp knife to cut the membranes following which you simply push the whole core out and then slice the pepper). Okey dokey. That’s the hard stuff done, sort of. Now we need 3 - 4 cloves of garlic which you will chop and mince and then add to the pot with the white wine (red if you prefer), salt (I use Kosher salt), dark brown sugar, Italian seasoning plus onion and garlic powder then stir to mix everything together. I like to use a white wine but a red will also work as it does temper down the sweetness of the onions and the green peppers. Personally, though I don’t have a sweet tooth, I like the sweetness as a compliment to the sausage.

Whilst gently folding the sausage into the pot, raise the temperature until the juices are bubbling but NOT boiling. At that point turn the heat down to simmer with the lid cracked. Leave for the next 4- 6 hours, stirring occasionally. Sorry, the next few hours are going to be hard on the taste buds as the aroma spreading though out the house will leave you drooling.

Oops, me bad and rambling again but isn’t this fun? Everything is now warming away and already smelling awesome so time to turn to the sausage that’s quietly minding its own business browning away. You’ll see that there’s a lot of ‘fat’ in the pan. Carefully, very carefully as it’s hot (yes, I have burned myself a couple of times) strain the sausage and yep, you got it, fold the sausage into the cast iron pot with all the other ingredients. Sorry if I digress again,

OK, that’s it, let’s eat. I love this served over Angel Hair but it’s also delicious served over or with a crispy warm slice of garlic bread. Whatever you prefer, don’t forget to grate Parmesan Cheese over it before eating. As much as you like as it really does make this dish all the more special. - 71 -

You’ll have noticed that there’s quite a lot left in the pot, enough for two more full meals – YUM. I divide the left overs into two, each enough for a meal for two, and freeze them for those times when you’re just too busy to cook and just need to heat something up and, believe me, when defrosted and reheated it tastes as good as when you first made it – enjoy! Ingredients: Olive Oil for browning sausage

1 pack Italian Sausage 5 links 19 oz; Hot

1 pack Italian Sausage 5 links 19 oz; Sweet

1 pack Italian Sausage 5 links 19 oz; Mild

3 – 4 Green Peppers sliced

2 - 3 large onions sliced

3 - 4 cloves Garlic minced

24 oz can Diced Tomatoes

Parmesan Cheese (grated)

½ tbsp. Salt

1 tbsp. Dark Brown Sugar

2 - 3 tbsp. Italian Seasoning

1 tbsp. Onion Powder (opt)

1 tbsp. Garlic Salt (opt)

Cup White Wine (red if preferred)

Bay Leaf (optional)

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.

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Heroines of SOE by Hannah Howe

Odette Wilen Odette Victoria Wilen was born on 25 April 1919. She served the SOE in France under the code name Sophie. Odette’s experiences in France read like a romantic adventure novel, with tragic twists and turns, and a fairytale ending. Gestapo captured Marcel and two of his colleagues. In keeping with their barbaric code, the Gestapo murdered Marcel in September 1944.

Born of a French mother and a Czech father, who served as an RAF officer, Odette became a naturalised British citizen in 1931. In June 1940, she married Dennis Wilen, a Finnish RAF pilot instructor. Sadly, he died during a flying accident in 1942.

Odette was saved from the Gestapo by Pearl Witherington and by Marcel’s sister, Mimi, who warned her of their impending threat. After trying to secure Marcel’s release, Odette fled Paris by bicycle before following the well-warn escape route over the Pyrenees into Spain, then on to Gibraltar and Britain, arriving in August 1944.

In April 1943, Odette joined the SOE. At her request, she trained as a wireless operator and was parachuted into France on 11 April 1944 to join the Stationer network in Auvergne. Odette’s organiser, Maurice Southgate, believed that she had not received sufficient training, which was symptomatic of the SOE’s desperate need to send wireless operators into the field. Subsequently, she was replaced.

During her exfiltration, Odette met the head of the Spanish escape network, Santiago Strugo Garay. Although they spent only three days together, Odette must have left a strong impression on Santiago because at the end of the war, he left Spain to meet up with her in Britain. The couple married in March 1946 and later settled in Buenos Aires.

Meanwhile, through a network of contacts, which included fellow agents Pearl Witherington and Virginia Hall, Odette transferred to the Labourer network where she worked in Paris as a courier alongside Marcel Leccia, who became her fiancé. Sadly, through betrayal the

Odette and Santiago produced two children. He died in 1997 while she died in 2015, aged 96.

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Editor In Chief—Hannah Howe The Editor-in-Chief is the key figure in every publication. Hannah Howe works closely with the editorial staff to ensure the success of each publication. She is the author of the Sam Smith Mystery Series, the Ann’s War Mystery Series and Saving Grace. Get to know more about Hannah, her projects and her work on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/hannah-howe/

Executive Editor | Graphic Designer—Melanie P. Smith The Executive Editor / Graphic Designer is responsible for developing the layout and design of MFR eMagazine. She also works hard to create new covers each month that captures the essence of each publication. In addition to the editorial staff of Mom’s Favorite Reads, Melanie P. Smith also produces Connections eMagazine. She is a multi-genre author of Criminal Suspense, Police Procedural, Paranormal and Romance novels. Get to know more about Melanie, her projects, and her work on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/melanie-p-smith/

Managing Editor—Sylva Fae Our Managing Editor oversees the physical content of the magazine and coordinates the production schedule. She administers the day-to-day operations of the publication, manages submissions, sets realistic schedules and organizes each edition of the magazine.

Art Director & Proofreader — Sylva Fae Sylva Fae—Mum of three, fairy woodland owner, and author of children’s books. Sylva is is responsible for the amazing graphics that appear throughout the publication each month. She works hard to ensure the images capture the spirit and message our author's convey in their articles and stories. In addition, As Copy Editor, Sylva works hard behind the scenes to correct any grammatical, typos and spelling errors throughout the magazine. https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/sylva-fae/

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 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 is currently working on 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/ - 74 -

Feature Editor—T.E, Hodden As Feature Editor T.E. Hodden works diligently to provide content that is interesting, informative and professional. He is a trained engineer and a life-long fan of comic books, Sci-Fi, myths, legends and history. Get to know more about TE Hodden on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/t-e-hodden/

Marketing Director—Grant Leishman Our Marketing Director, Grant Leishman, oversees marketing campaigns and social media engagement for our magazine. After an exciting career in accounting and journalism, he now focuses on his true calling—writing. Get to know more about Grant on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/grant-leishman/

Young Writer Content Editor—Poppy Flynn Poppy Flynn works hard each month to generate ideas, proofread submitted content, and provide stories, articles, poems and other pieces that are creative and relevant from young writers around the world. Get to know more about our Young Writer Content Editor on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/poppy-flynn/

General Content Writers Our Content Writers are freelance authors who contribute articles, short stories, etc. to the eMagazine on a regular basis. They work hard to make our magazine interesting and professional. Get to know our Content Writers on Mom’s Favorite Reads website here: Val Tobin — https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/val-tobin/ Stan Phillips — https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/stan-phillips/ Father Ian Muher — https://imaherblog.wordpress.com/