Day #414 Farm Wife Story

Yesterday, as I’m sure you recall, I promised to give my sister’s side of the story about the fire on my Grandma’s farm. I’ve talked about my sister before in this blog (on 11/20/10 and 9/25/11). She’s an incredible fabric artist, who created a series of quilts and art pieces that show what depression feels like. Then she wrote a book about it Depression Visible: the Ragged Edge.

Now she’s writing another book (Farm Wife Story) about what life is like on a wheat farm in eastern Colorado, from the point of view of the woman on that farm. She agreed to let me give you a taste of that book by quoting this little vignette of the same story I told, but from her point of view. This excerpt is from the introduction to Farm Wife Story. I'll let you know when the book is available.

All the grownups were outside trying to put out the fire in the field across the road. We heard them shouting. They sounded scared. Was Mama okay?  She said not to move, that she would come back for us. The windows were turning red now. I wondered if she would get burned up. No, she said she would be back.

I wrapped my arms around Fran and we sat there waiting and rocking until Fran said to quit because her tummy hurt.

We knew what they were doing because we had seen them before, slapping with the backs of shovels and wet gunny sacks at small fires they had set to burn weeds. My job was to take the sacks to the pump and rewet them as quick as I could and carry them dripping back to the grownups. But that was in the yard and during the daytime.

I wondered how they could keep the gunnysacks wet clear across the road. I could be out there helping them because I was the Big Sister. But Fran was still little. I had to stay in the chair with her. The red glow slowly turned dark, but Mama didn’t come for a long time. We stayed in the chair, not getting out even to turn on the lights.

Finally she came. “What took so long?” I asked as she hugged us. “I had to stay,” she answered, “to help put out all the little spots that were still burning. I’m glad you stayed here safe in the chair.”

It’s funny that Diana writes, “We knew what they were doing.” This half of that we hadn’t a clue—or at least not one that I remember all these years later.

Do you have an older sister (or brother) who might have protected you at some time or other? Do you even remember it?
I’d encourage you to ask, today. After all, there’s no telling what sort of great story you’ll hear.

Thank you, Diana!

BEEattitude for Day # 414:

       Blessed are the sisters, for they shall all work together to keep the hive healthy.

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS

     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA

     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA

     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA       

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M 

Day #413 Rain, Rain, Rain and Wildfires

It’s raining in Georgia. And that reminds me of a story. Today I'm going to tell you my version of it. Tomorrow I'll give you my sister's version.

My sister is quite a writer. She told me I could use an excerpt from an upcoming book of hers, Farm Wife Stories, which won't be published until some time next year. I'll be sure to let you know when it's available.

But, for now, here's what I remember.

Sixty some-odd years ago, Mississippi could have used some rain. I know, because that was the summer I spent at my grandparents’ farm with my mother and my father and my older sister. One day, one of the fields caught fire, and every available adult ran out to help save the crop and keep the fire from spreading to the house.

Our mother sat my sister and me in a big old chair, pointed a finger in our faces, and bent her stern face close to ours. “You sit there,” she said, “and don’t you move—not for any reason at all!” 

We sat. I don’t remember knowing exactly why we had to sit there, but I was with the big sister I idolized. I’m sure my big sister was bored silly, and maybe even frightened, because I’m sure she knew there was a fire going on, while I was blissfully ignorant of the implications of a wildfire. Our mother, meanwhile, was busy pounding at the flames with wet feed sacks.

So, when honey bees are faced with the smell of smoke (as they are each time a beekeeper smokes a hive before opening it), do they:

1.       sit blissfully unaware of what’s happening around them, as I did? No.

2.      stay in one place and worry like my sister? No.

3.      do their best to fight the fire, the way Mama did? Not exactly.

You see, bees don’t fight fire. They run from it. But first, they load up on honey so they can carry their food supply with them when they leave.

So today I sit here looking out at the rain which, as I write this, has been going on for more than 12 hours, thankful that I don’t have to worry about fire. And thankful, too, that no enormous white-jacketed monster is coming around to lift the roof off my hive … I mean my house.

Whew!

Just think of this -- fish in the ocean never have to worry about wildfires.

Whew!

Now, remember to check this blog tomorrow for my sister's side of the story.

BEEattitude for Day # 413:

       Blessed are the rainmakers, for they shall save lives.

_______________________________ 
The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA 

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #412 Messiah Sing-Along

Yesterday was a special day for me. Every year, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, the Gwinnett Choral Guild hosts a Messiah Sing-along. If people have scores, they bring them along. If not, the Guild has a bunch to loan out.

We, meaning the Choral Guild, and the BJ Chorale (co-hosts of the event) pay for professional singers to do the solo work, as well as a small chamber group and a couple of dynamic trumpeters (for the Hallelujah Chorus).

The audience sort of divides up into sections – Sopranos, Altos, Tenors, and Basses. And we sing out hearts out.

It’s glorious! Now, as far as I’m concerned, the holidays are almost over. I’ve become something of a Grinch, as I’ve mentioned before. I still need to watch George C. Scott’s Christmas Carol, sing one more concert with the Choral Guild on December 3^rd, and send in an extra donation to Heifer International in my grandchildren’s names; then that’s quite enough holiday for me, and I am content.

BEEattitude for Day # 412:

       Blessed are those who celebrate joyously, for their hearts shall sing, just the ways our bee hearts buzz.

______________________________ 

The teeny details:

BOOK SIGNINGS

     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA

     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA

     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA     

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #411 Drones Don't Have Daddies

Isn’t there a Grandparents’ Day coming up soon? If so, drones (the male honey bees) will probably be delighted to celebrate it. After all, each drone has a grandfather.

But Father’s Day? Drones don’t have a dad to send a card to or buy a tie for.

How is this possible? I’m glad you asked.

I went to the Honey Bee Research & Extension Lab website so I’d be sure the answer was scientifically valid. Here’s what Ed Beary wrote:

The queen and workers are female bees with a diploid set of chromosomes. The drones are male with a haploid set of chromosomes. To get a worker, the queen must add sperm to the egg. There must be a male to provide that sperm. To get a male, she does nothing but deposit the egg in a cell. No sperm in needed from a male bee.

Maybe this is why drones are so relatively unproductive around the hive. They don’t have a daddy to show them what work is supposed to be like.

Drones fulfill only three functions, as far as we people know. They

1.       Grow up in a big drone cell that’s been built around the outside edge of the hive so that if a bear tears open the hive, the bear is more likely to eat drone cells than to get to destroy the center of the hive,

2.      Protect the queen on her mating flight by surrounding her and serving a bait for marauding birds, and finally,

3.      Mate with one queen (not necessarily the one from their own hive), and then they die.

If those are their only reasons for living, I’m not sure a daddy would help.

BEEattitude for Day # 411:

       Blessed are those who know what they want to do when they grow up, for they shall get a head start on the rest of us.
 
p.s. from Fran: the book signing at Wellspring Treasures in Kennesaw was great fun. We sold lots of books, and I got to talk with some great folks I never would have met otherwise.

______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA     

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #410 I Still See a Bee or Two

A couple of days ago the weather here in Georgia was warm enough to entice me outside to do some drastically overdue yard work. And there were some golden honey bees that kept me company as I weeded, dug up the vastly overgrown daylilies, and rescued several thousand (or so it seemed) crocus bulbs.

It won’t be long before it will be way too cold for the bees to venture outside, and I must say I tend to emulate the bees. I spent 26 years living in Vermont, and although the winters are GORGEOUS there, I found that the longer I stayed—okay, what I’m really talking about is the older I got—the colder those winters seemed.

It didn’t help that I had a malfunctioning thyroid, something I discovered after I moved to a warmer climate. I know I mentioned my thyroid way back on Day #13, but did I ever tell you about Jazzminka, the cat who healed my thyroid? If you know me and I already told you the story, just skip down to the BEEattitude for the day.

Bees keep themselves warm in winter by shivering, rapidly contracting and un-contracting the muscles that usually power their wings, thereby creating heat. But people can’t shiver enough to warm themselves like that. I’ve never figured out how to use my wing muscles, much less disconnect them.

People depend on the thyroid to regulate internal temperature, causing our body to generate more heat in the winter and less of it in the summer. (Obviously I’m greatly simplifying the process.) But when the thyroid doesn’t function properly, temps get all screwed up.

I used to be so cold all winter long, it was downright painful.

Even when I moved to Georgia, with the fairly mild winters here, I still ached through the cold months and (maybe even worse) in the over-air-conditioned buildings in the summer. Brrr!

I discovered a doctor, though, who diagnosed the hypothyroidism and who prescribed Synthroid, with the warning that once I started taking it, the Synthroid would destroy any remaining thyroid function and I would have to take Synthroid for the rest of my life.

I thought it was a small price to pay for the chance, finally! to be warm. And I took the medication for several years, increasing it a bit each winter and backing off the dosage a bit each summer (per doctor’s orders).

But then I brought Jazzminka into my home. She was a Humane Society kitten, a gray/black/white tabby who was way too young to be away from her mom. She used to give me hickies from sucking so long and so hard at the skin of my neck.  I thought she was just missing her mommy.

As she grew, she began kneading the front of my neck—hard enough that it hurt. She was persistent, and would spend 20 or 30 minutes at it if I’d let her.

Gradually I found that the dosage of Synthroid seemed too high. The doc said to cut the pills in half. Eventually I had to quarter them. And finally I was taking a quarter of a pill every other day—and then every three days.

Jazzminka tapered off her insistence on kneading my thyroid as I got healthier, although she would still climb up and give me little “checkouts” occasionally. She died of a happy old age several years ago, fully knowing (I’m sure) that she had herded me through a healing process that I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t experienced it.

Since then, I've had my thyroid tested, and it’s perfectly normal, so now I don’t have to unhinge my wing myscles.

BEEattitude for Day # 410:

       Blessed are those who accept the gifts from Mama Nature, for she never leads us astray.

_______________________________ 
The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS   There’s One Today!   
     Nov. 26      1-4 p.m.          Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA  
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA     

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #409 Cheyenne

Whoops! Here it is the day after Thanksgiving, and now it appears to be time to head toward Christmas.

Well, in that spirit, I’d like to bring in the energy of Cheyenne, the official greeter at Wild Birds Unlimited in Suwannee, Georgia. Here is WBU’s Facebook  page, by the way: https://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Wild-Birds-Unlimited-of-Suwanee-GA/237988779580009

And here is Cheyenne:

Whoops! That's not Cheyenne. That's the honey bee who brings you the BEEattitudes in every BeesKnees blogpost

Cheyenne (shown below) is, as you may recall, the dog  I wrote into A SLAYING SONG TONIGHT, and she did add, I must say, a delightful perspective to that book.

I’d like to encourage you to treat this holiday season with a laid-back, stress-free attitude. Right. Maybe I should say a more nearly laid-back and only minor-ly stressful attitude.

Act like a bee or like a dog. Appreciate life. Take one day at a time. Shake a few jingle bells, sip some eggnog, and join in the fun.

BEEattitude for Day # 409:

       Blessed are those who find joy in the small details—well-made combs, active workers, a productive hive, and plenty of stores for the winter. What more does a bee need?

p.s. from Fran:
     If you're in the area, come see my Biscuit McKee mysteries at one of the book signings listed below!

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Nov. 26      1-4 p.m.         Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA    
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA     

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #408 Happy Thanksgiving

It was so tempting to skip a few days of this blog. After all, this is a holiday, right?

Right.

But then, there’s the discipline of a commitment. On October 12, 2010, I stated publicly that I would blog every single day for 600 days. And so far (SO FAR, indeed) I’ve done it.  A little thing like a holiday shouldn’t get in the way.

I just looked back through my blog posts for November of 2010, and I seem to have completely ignored Thanksgiving last year. I don’t want to do that this year because this appears to be a year when we need all the thanks-giving we can come up with. And, after all, my personal mission statement is

“Healing the world through teaching the power of gratitude.”

But for today, I'm not going to do any teaching. I'm just going to tell you that this year I’m particularly thankful for you.

 

BEEattitude for Day # 408:

       Blessed are those who live in the moment—the way we bees do—for they shall find much to be thankful for.

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS for VIOLET AS AN AMETHYST
     Nov. 26      1-4 p.m.          Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA    
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA     
 
my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.
my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M

Day #407 Box Elder Bugs

What could be better than a day-before Thanksgiving discussion of

bugs?

Remember a few days ago when I asked if anyone could identify those red bugs on my mailbox? Well, Cathy Akers-Jordan responded saying they looked kike Box Elder Bugs.

I don’t have any Box Elder trees, but I went online and Googled the critters. The pictures I saw were mostly black with some orange-red stripes.

Nope. Not my bugs.

Or so I thought.

Cathy came back with a link to a website that has photos of Box Elder Bugs in all sorts of life stages, including one photo taken from underneath the bug, showing the little orange places where the legs hinge onto the body. Cool huh?

Turns out my little orange guys are probably babies. When I looked more closely at my mailbox, I found some of those adults with their distinctive markings. Mine appear to be a variation on the usual kind, but there was plenty of diversity in those pictures that Cathy found.

So, I’ve learned that what I Google may not be the final answer.

You already knew that, though, didn’t you?

BEEattitude for Day # 407:

       Blessed are those who keep looking for nectar, for they shall eventually be satisfied.

p.s. - Have a joy-filled Thanksgiving Day tomorrow.

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Nov. 26      Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA     1-4 p.m.
     Dec.   3       Books for Less, Buford GA      1-3 p.m.
     Dec. 10       Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA      2-4 p.m. 

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Fran+Stewart

Day #406 When Bees Go Robbing

Yes, bees can be larcenous at times. If they find a weak hive, undefended by many guard bees, the stronger bees are quite likely to head inside and rob the stores of honey.

I can understand it in bees. It’s called survival instinct.

I have less tolerance for humans who do that sort of thing. If you’ve tried to buy my e-books on Smashwords any time in the last two days, you’ll notice that they’re not there.  What does this have to do with bees?

I’m glad you asked.

As I said, I can understand why bees would try to get away without paying for the honey they rob. But Smashwords.com has a policy of allowing anyone to download e-books with the understanding that they will be honorable and will pay for the books they download.

I was looking over my royalty statement from Smashwords and found that for every book someone bought (and they were only $3.99), between 50 and 80 people downloaded that same book without paying.

Now, I’m really happy that folks want to read my books, but why on earth would I want to put my books out there just for the few honest people who understand that writing is a job, one that supposedly supports the writer?

If you want to get my books for your non-Kindle, maybe there’s a way you’ll be able to find them, but until I can figure out a way to prevent the piracy, I’m going to leave my e-books off of Smashwords.

I’ll let you know if I solve this quandary.

BEEattitude for Day # 406:

       Blessed are those who act in accordance with the highest thought, for they shall contribute to a better life for all.
 

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Nov. 26      Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA     1-4 p.m.
     Dec.   3       Books for Less, Buford GA      1-3 p.m.
     Dec. 10       Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA      2-4 p.m.

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy print books from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Fran+Stewart

Day #405 Confederate Roses - Do Bees Read?

While I was uploading my newest book, VIOLET AS AN AMETHYST, to turn it into an eBook, I got to wondering about that quote from Albert Einstein that I featured last month in one of my posts.

If we judged honey bees on their ability to read human texts, those poor little critters would fail miserably. But if we judged humans on their ability to read the nectar content of flowers – guess who the losers would be? That’s right. All of us two-legged creatures.

Even though I read of number of draft chapters to my honeybees as I sat writing on my back deck, I doubt they appreciated the content. A number of them checked out my pencil, walked across my spiral bound notebook, and flew around my brain as it spewed words forth onto the page.

But, try as I might, I can’t read what my girls are thinking as they delve into the 5"-wide blossoms of the Confederate Roses (just about the last plant blooming in my yard this fall).

Incidentally, did you know the Confederate Rose is named after Rose O’Neal Greenhow, who was a spy during the War Between the States? Just one of those strange facts I pick up here and there.

At any rate, the point I’m trying to make is that I couldn’t make any type of rose bloom or extract the nectar from it and create honey. Better not compare myself to bees or I’ll get an inferiority complex – just like Einstein’s fish.


BEEattitude for Day # 405:
       Blessed are those who learn new skills and maintain old skills, for they shall face life with confidence. 

_______________________________ 
The teeny details:
BOOK SIGNINGS
     Nov. 26      Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA     1-4 p.m.
     Dec.   3       Books for Less, Buford GA      1-3 p.m.
     Dec. 10       Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA      2-4 p.m.  OFFICIAL BOOK LAUNCH for VIOLET AS AN AMETHYST

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Fran+Stewart

Day #404 Deathless Address

Yesterday was the 148^th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address.

Lord, what I wouldn’t give to be able to write something even half that memorable. It seems apt to post the text—although I probably should have done it yesterday, but yesterday I was busy wondering about bugs.

You probably had to memorize this speech when you were in high school. But do you ever pull it out and think about what it’s saying? This is a lot like the Declaration of Independence, one of those documents we know about, approve of, but seldom consider at any depth. I read the Declaration of Independence every Fourth of July, as I’ve mentioned before in this blog. I think it would make sense for me to read Lincoln’s words every November 19^th from now on. I’m gonna do it. Will you join me, even if we’re a day late this year?

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

BEEattitude for Day # 404:

       Blessed are those who plant windbreaks for our hives, for they shall sleep well, knowing they’ve helped us bees to survive the winter.

_______________________________ 

The teeny details:

BOOK SIGNINGS

     Nov. 26      Wellspring Treasures, Kennesaw GA     1-3 p.m.

     Dec.   3       Books for Less, Buford GA      1-3 p.m.

     Dec. 10       Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA      2-4 p.m.  OFFICIAL BOOK LAUNCH for VIOLET AS AN AMETHYST

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.

my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Fran+Stewart

my eBooks on Smashwords (for all other formats):  http://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=Fran+Stewart