October – A Year In England

Tree on the Cranswick Village Green 1988

The picture window in the lounge looked out on the village green and directly in my view was the large tree. It was one of the first things I saw each morning, whether collecting fresh milk by the front door or opening the curtains in the lounge. Daily I watched the leaves make their annual change from green to yellow before falling, carpeting the ground below. I was used to this change, having seen something like it every autumn of my life in Arkansas and found comfort in seeing something familiar so far from home.

I was still adjusting to life in England, still settling in. The little things seemed to wear on me the most, a condition referred to as cultural fatigue. The shock of the new had worn off, but it had not yet become the norm. I was still curious about things and tried to maintain a sense of adventure, but some days I just wanted to feel at home again.

The weather continued damp and chilly with the sun occasionally breaking through the gray cloud. The days were getting shorter, but like the falling leaves, I was used to in the northern hemisphere. Living much further north, however, made it much more pronounced. Before leaving the States, people had cautioned about the dark winter days, saying that many found it a depressing time. As the days shortened and we headed toward the time change, locals asked how I was coping with it. Turns out many of them had the same struggle each year and were concerned about me. I became rather obsessed with watching the change, daily reading sunrise and sunset times in the paper and watching the sunrise move closer to the horizon each week.

I don’t remember paying much attention to the sun’s movements before that year. Since then, however, I am more acutely aware of when the light appears each day and when it ends. Would this awareness have happened if I had not gone through the more drastic change in England?


The most interesting thing I discovered while writing this is that my memory seems to be flawed. As I continue to study memoir writing, I keep hearing how what we remember so clearly is not what actually happened. This essay brought that sharply to my attention.

I clearly remember that for one week in October, the sun set 15 minutes earlier each day. I saw the sunrise and sunset times posted in the London Times each day, following the loss of light with dread. I worried that if it continued, we would be in total darkness for weeks and remember even commenting on this to someone. But something led me to search for sunrise and sunset times in East Yorkshire for this October. What I found was a gradual change, 4-5 minutes each day. Stunned I searched for the times from 30 years ago, but they are not available. Confused, I searched November and December thinking I got the month wrong. I never did find it.  I cannot believe it did not happen and I am baffled how this came to be my memory.

Shocked by this I wasn’t sure if I wanted to finish this essay. If my memory is so flawed on this, what else am I wrong about. Yet at some point, it is not about when the sunset in October 1988. It is about the fact the days were getting shorter, how I felt going through it and the long-term impact it had on me. I can only remember to the best of my ability and share it with others in the best way I can.

List of Links September 2018

The 22-year-old Who Wrote Barack Obama’s Letters

Writing in someone else’s voice is a talent. When I first started my virtual assistant business, I did newsletters for a couple of clients and wrote much of the copy. I cannot imagine trying to do that for someone as well-known as the President, much less doing it at such a young age. I found this a fascinating story.

The Communist Cookbook That Defined Prague’ Cuisine 

I remember hearing about Prague in the 1990s and early 2000s as an inexpensive but cosmopolitan city, up-and-coming from it’s communist past. But I never heard anyone talk about the food there. Perhaps this article explains why.

The Wild Alaskan Island That Inspired a Lost Classic

One hundred years ago, Rockwell Kent and his son arrived in Alaska and settled in a cabin on a small, wooded island near Seward. A painter, Kent spent his nights writing letters that eventually become a book. If you are fascinated with life in the wilderness, take a look at the drawings and read the article. FYI – the island is still wooded but is partially owned by a tourism company that charges over $1200 for a night’s stay.

Building a Personality From 100-Year-Old Photographs

Writing fiction means creating characters. Each writer has their own method(s) for doing this, and using images from the period is one of them. Nuala O’Connor shares how photos helped her get into the personality of a known person who was in her fiction.

Nine “Striking” Facts About The History of The Typewriter 

I learned to type on a manual Underwood typewriter my mom had, then used electric typewriters for typing class in high school and a variety of jobs until personal computers took over. Though I’m quite happy to work on my laptop keyboard, there is nothing like typing on a typewriter keyboard. Here are some interesting facts about the history of the typewriter. I especially liked #4 – Mark Twain was the first writer to submit a manuscript that had been typed.

Enough With The Victors Writing History 

It was a frequent reminder in my university history classes (I was a history major after all): history is written by the victors. We may never be able to find the stories that were lost or pushed aside, but I believe it is important to at least question what is missing from the history books.

The Not-So-Hidden Racism of Nancy Drew

I have mentioned before how much I enjoyed reading the Nancy Drew series when I was growing up. This was the mid-to-late 1970s so the copies I read were the revised ones, where many of the people of color have been removed, and the one dominant one is the housekeeper. I don’t know that I found it odd when I read it because I knew families in my hometown in south Arkansas who did have an African-American housekeeper or cleaner. The overriding question, however, is what place do these books have in the world today? Do we make all versions available or not? Do we edit them again or leave them as a reflection of the time they were written in? There are no easy answers, but the questions are valid ones to consider.

18 of the World’s Most Striking Libraries, Illustrated

Would you even know these were libraries?

The Adventures of America’s Most Well-Traveled Bookstore

Not only do I think this is a wonderful idea to have a traveling library, but I may have added an item to my bucket list!

Why You Should Read This Article Slowly

While I love to get lost in a book, taking in every word on the pages, I also skim a lot. It can be helpful to quickly look at something and see if we want to engage with it further. However, how often do we really take the time to read slowly, to be sure we are getting all of the story?

14 Awesomely Disturbing Community Cookbooks

My mom had a couple of these, put together by the Women’s Group at a church. There were some good recipes in them, and I also remember a few that held strange names or seemed to be just wrong. This article brought back wonderful memories and quite a few laughs. Enjoy!

List of Links August 2018

Below are links to interesting articles I found during the month of August 2018. An interesting theme appeared this month: libraries, book, and reading. There’s also a couple of spy stories and a republished cookbook that can teach you to cook like a suffragette! Enjoy.

‘Spectacular’ ancient public library discovered in Germany

While excavating in Cologne, the remains of the oldest public library in Germany were discovered in 2017. Initially unsure what had been uncovered, the realization that the niches were designed to hold scrolls led to identifying it as a library. I’ve been to Cologne twice, and always loved exploring the city…now there’s something new to see.

The Weirdest Libraries Around The World

Think you know what a library should look like? Think again!

10 Animals Who Have Broken Into the Library

For something fun! Plenty of critters have found their way into libraries.

Buddy, The Library Isn’t A 7-11

But that doesn’t stop patrons from acting like it is…

The Crack Squad of Librarians Who Track Down Half-Forgotten Books

I love a good mystery so, although I’m sure I’d get quite agitated with the minimal clues some patrons give, I’d probably enjoy the hunt to find answers to the questions these librarians are asked.

Being A Victorian Librarian Was Oh-So-Dangerous

Most of my life the majority of librarians I’ve known have been women. But in the mid- to late- 19th century, women were expected to stay home, and this article talks about the traumas that awaited women who worked in libraries.

Who Decides What’s Tacky Anyway?

The origin of the word “tacky”,  how it came to define bad taste and why that word became associated with the fashion of the 1970s. I’m old enough to remember the 1970s…anyone else?

The Draconian Dictionary Is Back

A dictionary deemed “subversive”? That’s what happened in 1961 with the release of  Websters Third New International Dictionary. Read to find out what the kerfuffle was all about.

French Bookstore Invites Its Instagram Followers To Judge Books By Their Covers

The photos they share are fascinating – take a look!

Reading A Book Takes Time – Deal With It

Would you rather have your books released as a serial, one “episode” at a time? That is a trend developing, and if it encourages people to read then I am fine with it. The author of the article, however, takes exception. I will add that some days I’m doing good to get one chapter read. Then there are the days when I have more time and get pulled into a book and read for hours. I would hate to lose the ability to do that.

“Pie For A Doubting Husband”: How To Cook Like A Suffragette

Cookbook lovers take note: A cookbook released in 1915 to raise money for the suffragette movement has been reissued.

Why More Boys Don’t Read Little Women

This is a long article, but I encourage you to take the time to read through it. It about much more than Little Women not being assigned reading anymore.

The Way We Read Now

PBS has an initiative going on, “The Great American Read”, which released an alphabetical list of the 100 favorite works of fiction. What is interesting, according to this article from the Wall Street Journal, is that few works of what is often considered the height of American literature made the list. It seems, the article suggests, that Americans are more interested in reading a good story than what is considered “great” writing. (Note to self…make sure when I write I tell a good story!)

Clothing Britain’s Spies During World War II

During WWII, spies sent to another country needed to blend in, and in a time before mass-produced clothes, each country, even each region, had their own way of making clothes. So Britain used clothing produced by refugees to meet the demand.

The Women Code Breakers Who Unmasked Soviet Spies

I enjoy puzzles, but breaking code is far above anything I can do. This is a fascinating look at the women involved in Cold War efforts to break codes and find Soviet spies. While many of the men involved have been profiled, the women have not. As the article notes, most of them never talked about the work they did.

Writers Have Always Loved Mobile Devices

I enjoy moving to different locations to write and have a bag set up with many of the tools I will need. Turns out, long before there were laptops and tablets, other writers had their own version of a mobile workspace.

Can Crime Fiction Help Combat the Opioid Crisis?

As I writer, I want to think my work can make a difference, be it educating or entertaining. The article writer hopes that focusing on the opioid crisis in her crime fiction will bring attention and solutions for the drug problem devastating her home state (and the country).


The First Day

I stand at the crosswalk as lights flash and cars whiz by the wrong way and wonder when, or if, I will be able to cross the street. It is early afternoon on my first day in London, on my first trip outside the United States. Jet-lagged after an overnight flight I struggle to make sense of my surroundings, overwhelmed by new sights and sounds.

Looking down, I notice “Look Right” stenciled on the street with an arrow pointing that way. I am grateful for the reminder, thinking it is there to remind confused tourists that cars travel the opposite way in Britain. Later, seeing “Look Left” on another street, I understand that because of London’s many one-way streets, it is for locals as well.

I try to blend in with the locals, but my body and brain seem to move in slow motion. I hope I don’t appear the overwhelmed tourist that I am. Months spent studying street maps and tourist guides did not prepare me for the reality. While I recognize landmarks and street names, the images I created in my mind do not match the masses of people, cars, and buses hustling through the city.

I finally cross the street when a crowd of other people does, hoping there is safety in numbers. The best way to adjust to time change when traveling east, I’ve read, is to stay up all day, then go to bed early that night. So to stay awake I amble through London, seeing a few sights and trying to learn my way around. By mid-afternoon, I can no longer manage it and trudge back to my hotel. Climbing the narrow flight of stairs to my small, clean room, I lay down and surrender to exhaustion.

A couple of hours later I wake up. Though still tired, the jet-lag fog is beginning to clear from my brain so I set out to walk the neighborhood around my hotel and find something to eat. Passing an Indian restaurant, I stop and read the menu posted in the window, happy to discover many familiar selections. Opening the door, the spicy aromas fill my nose and send a rumble through my stomach. After filling up on delicious curry and naan, I return to my hotel room for a good night’s sleep.

The next morning I awaken feeling more like myself. While the view out my window isn’t what I am used to, it is no longer strange and overwhelming. Just as I am getting accustomed to London, it is time to leave. I head to the train station for two weeks on the continent.

Each country I visit presents another first day, with a new city to navigate, a new language to muddle through, and, since this is before the Euro, a new currency to sort out. Already, I have changed, understanding that each place will be different, both from where I’ve been and from the expectations I bring with me. I adapt quicker and find I blend in as long as I don’t attempt to speak the language. Evenings I take a stroll or sit in the park watching people go by, enjoying a slower end to my days.

Returning to London, I am surprised how familiar it feels. Not only do I speak the language, I also know the currency, can navigate the Tube to get from the train station to my hotel and find that traffic coming from the opposite direction no longer fazes me. For the first time since I left the United States, I am in a place I have been before.

A week later I board a train for the north, to begin a year living in East Yorkshire. The year will have many firsts: the first time seeing the house that would be my home, the first time driving a car with the steering wheel on the right-hand side, the first time finding bottles of milk by my front door, and lighting my first coal fire. Nothing, though, will come close to the first day.

Road Map Skills


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On a warm Sunday morning, Daddy parked our blue Buick by the back door and opened the trunk. Handing him my suitcase, he added it to the other luggage in the massive compartment. Back in the house, I picked up a couple of books, a stack of Teen and Tiger Beat magazines, and the pillow from my bed. Placing them and my purse on the floor of the backseat, I got in while my sister did the same on her side. After one last check of the house, Momma and Daddy got in the car. We pulled out of the driveway and began the 1600 mile, two-and-a-half-day drive from our home in south Arkansas to southern California.

We had taken summer car trips most of my life: half-day drives to northwest Arkansas to visit family and day-long trips to Alabama so Grandma could see her sister and father. Since we made these trips once a year, Daddy knew the route to take. This trip was different. Though we were going to visit family, we were traveling in unfamiliar territory. This was 1979, long before GPS and navigation systems were available. Instead, to navigate across the country, we would depend on a road map.

I’ve enjoyed looking at maps for as long as I can remember. Whether paper road maps that unfold or maps in my history and geography textbooks, maps from centuries past or a modern road atlas, I could spend hours studying them. Along the way, I learned the basics of reading a map, and as we began our trip, I asked to look at the road atlas we were using.

Tracing with my finger, I realized I was able to follow our route. I looked ahead, to see if I knew where we would turn next, then explored the legend, learning what unfamiliar marks on the map represented. There were small numbers printed beside the highways and roads, and I asked what they meant. Daddy explained they represented the miles between towns. Watching the scenery out the window, I saw the highway signs, their numbers corresponding to the ones on the map. Coming to an intersection, I found the highway number we needed and followed the arrows to know which way we should go. The more I learned, the more confident I became in my ability to use the map, skills put to the test when we drove out of Arkansas and onto unfamiliar highways. I was surprised – and pleased – when Daddy asked me what road to take or how far to the next turn off. As Momma confirmed my answers with her written directions, my pride grew.

Crossing into a new state, we would stop at the Tourist Information Center and pick up the free road map they offered. Easier to hold than the bound atlas, they were opened then re-folded, showing only the area we were driving through. These maps also gave cities their own maps, detailing the highways and major streets helping us find the routes to bypass the congested downtown areas.

Near Amarillo, Texas we merged onto Interstate 40. This would be our route as we traveled west through New Mexico and Arizona until it ended in Barstow, California. There was no need to read the map, but I still kept it close by. To pass the time I noted the highway number at an exit, then traced its route to see where it led. Looking at the spiderweb of highways stretching across the pages, I’d choose one and see what towns and sights were nearby. The more I looked, the more I discovered about the land we were passing through.

Nearing San Bernadino, our destination, the traffic increased until all lanes were filled with speeding cars, trucks and motorcycles. This was very different from the rural roads and small-town streets back home. Now, the map wasn’t detailed enough to help and we used the written directions Momma had received from a cousin. With cars passing on both sides, and on- and off-ramps appearing quickly, Daddy needed each of us to watch for our exit and clear traffic when we changed lanes. It was an intense hour or so, but we found our exit and soon pulled into our cousin’s driveway.

I have wonderful memories from that trip. I visited Hollywood and Universal Studios, attended my first professional baseball game, and went to the beach and played in the surf. We visited the Grand Canyon and we watched the flat yellow prairie of west Texas give way to the brown rocky hills of New Mexico. My fondest memory, though, is the pride I felt when my parents trusted me with reading the road map, giving me a boost of confidence I needed in my mid-teens. The road map skills I developed that trip have served me well since.

Old habits die hard, the saying goes, and when it comes to maps, that is true for me. I still prefer a paper map to plan road trips, spreading it out to understand an area and tracing the route I want to take. I purchased a road atlas to find the quickest way to make the 12-hour drive when I moved to Florida, and I still refer to it to help me visualize a location. I will use an online map to plan a trip, but I write out brief directions to refer to when driving. It is a system that works well for me, yet I feel like an anomaly. Do other people use paper maps anymore or have GPS and spoken navigation taken over? The last time I requested maps from several state tourism offices, the ones I received showed major roads but left off many of the backcountry highways I like to explore. Road maps and atlases can be purchased, but they are hard to find in the middle of a trip.

If maps are not readily available, do people know how to read them? If not, what is lost without those skills? Aside from the obvious – not being able to navigate if there is no power or signal to the GPS – there is also the loss of visualizing our place in a city, state, country or the world. Reading a map requires actually noticing where you are, looking for road signs to guide you, not waiting to be told where to turn. Maps can point out things along the route you might otherwise miss, be it a historic site, a hidden lake, or a town with a funny name. While GPS can be very helpful, telling you which lane to get in on unfamiliar city streets and on busy highway exits, using them without ever consulting a map means you lose out on the bigger picture of where you are and what is around you.

I know that with a map, and time to study it, I can find my way to a destination whether across town or across the country. It may be “old school,” but I am proud of my road map skills.

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List of Links July 2018

Welcome! Below are listed links I found during July 2018 that sparked my interest. I think they are worth sharing so that’s what this post is about.

I create one of these posts every month. I share a few of them in my monthly newsletter, Updates for Curious Minds (you can subscribe here and read the archives here), and share others on Twitter and Facebook.

And I am always interested in what other people find. Please share any links that you found interesting, informative and/or funny in the comments below or on social media.

To Map The Human – Gaiutra Bahadur shares memories of her grandmother, including the fact she illegally entered the United States in the 1980s. As she works to create, and complete, a map of her grandmother’s life, Bahadur wonders what would have happened if her grandmother was alive today and if she was found to be illegal.

Color or Fruit? On the Unlikely Etymology of “Orange” – Curious about how the fruit and color got the name orange? Click the link to find out!

10 Books with Incredibly Clever Hidden Messages – Even more to puzzle out! How many of these books have you read, and did you catch the hidden message(s)? I remember reading the one mentioned in Harry Potter but did not catch the hidden message.

Did a Medieval Purge of Black Cats Cause the Black “Death? I am fascinated with Medieval art and history and I love cats, so of course, I’m going to be curious about this article! Also, I have an idea for a mystery/thriller fiction book, and part of it is going to be set in medieval England just before the Black Death, so I’m also taking notes for that project. The article is fun and easy to read, and source documents are listed for further research.

The Romanovs’ Art of Survival – Many members of the Romanov family perished in Russia’s Bolshevik Revolution, yet many survived, creating new lives in other countries around the world. It turns out, many of them were talented artists, a family tradition, and found creating art helped them cope with living in an uncertain world.

Visiting A Secret Museum In The Middle Of The Uzbek Desert – The world’s second largest collection of Soviet avant-guard art was collected by one man who opened a museum in the Uzbekistan desert to display them. Fascinating story about the man and the works he saved.

A Brief History of Cryptography in Crime Fiction – Ever try solving a cryptograph? Many authors have used codes and the breaking of them in crime fiction and mystery stories, and Gray Basnight takes a look at some of them. Bonus: he even includes a cryptograph at the end of his article for readers to solve!

How World War One Gave Rise to the Traditional Mystery – If you enjoy reading traditional mysteries (or detective fiction), check out this article. The genre many of us love (yes, me too!) came about in response to what people went through during WWI.

Mice Were Wildly Popular In Children’s Books In The ’90s – But Why? – Click the link to find out! 🙂

A Winnie-the-Pooh Illustration Has Sold For More Than Any Other Book Illustration Ever – Pooh is in the news these days with the release of the movie Christopher Robin (if anyone has seen it, please let me know what you think). The illustration, a map of the Hundred Acre Woods, sold at Sotheby’s for $570,000!!! You can see the map here.

Rereading Childhood Books Can Be Therapeutic – What was your favorite childhood book? When was the last time you read it? Turns out it can be good therapy to do so, rediscovering an old favorite and a piece of our younger selves.

When I think of my favorite childhood book, the one that comes to mind first is Andrew Henry’s Meadow by Doris Burns. I was delighted to find a blog post that tells about the book, quotes a bit of it, and has pictures of the illustrations so I can relieve it again while sharing with you. There is something magical about going out and creating a home that is just right for you, then helping others do the same. I still love the low-tech ways Andrew Henry solves everyday problems (like the paddle wheel in the stream to power the hand fan for a breeze). I need to buy a copy of this book, and read and dream again!

The Dos and Don’ts of Supporting Your Local Library –  Libraries have played a huge role in my life (I even wrote about it earlier this year), and this article tells me that things I already do – check out books both in person and online – benefit the library. Now, I need to do more “dos” from the list.

These Are the Best Songs to Dance To, According to Computer Science – And now for something fun! Agree with this list or frustrated they left your favorite song to dance to off the list? Not familiar with some of the songs? Search for them and listen for an afternoon pick-up.

List of Links June 2018

I read a lot. One of the best ways to be a better writer is to read, and I take that advice seriously! There is a lot out there to read, and as someone who is curious to learn about new things, I always have a lot of links to check out. When I find something good, I want to share. I put 4-5 links in my monthly newsletter (click here to subscribe), but there are more I share on Twitter and Facebook. This type of post will be a monthly feature where I share the most interesting, entertaining and enlightening links I’ve come across the past month. Sometimes I’ll add some comments, sometimes I’ll let the story speak for itself. I hope you enjoy them, and please, share anything interesting you have found in the comments.

So, without further delay, here is the List of Links for Curious Minds from June 2018.

Why You Should Become A Literary Tourist

Great idea for your next trip – plan to visit libraries in locations you go to! Should be interesting to see the differences – and similarities – of libraries throughout the world.

America’s First Female Map Maker

I love maps! GPS can be handy, but I still prefer to plan road trips, whether across town or cross-country, with a paper map. (You can read about one of my map reading adventures later this month). So this naturally caught my eye. In the early 19th century, Emma Willard, an educator, used maps to help teach history in new and creative ways.

Finding Peace at the Rothko Chapel

I’ve been lucky enough to visit the Rothko Chapel, 25 years ago on a one-day whirlwind trip to Houston with a grad school class. This article reminded me of the peace and calm I felt inside. In this article, the author shares what the Chapel has meant to him in his life in Houston, Texas.

The Bats Help Preserve Old Books But They Drive Librarians, Well, Batty

There are many unique things you can find in libraries around the world, but bats that eat the bookworms (thereby helping protect the books) is a strange one indeed. The bats have turned into a tourist attraction, frustrating the librarians who want this library known for its wonderful collection. I’ll be honest, if I happened to be nearby, I would definitely stop in to see the bats!

How Isaac Newton’s Apple Tree Spread Across The World

Part science, part history, this article explains how the apple tree that is thought to have inspired Sir Isaac Newton’s to develop the theory of gravity has spread across the globe. The variety, Flower of Kent, has been spread by cloning by grafting while others have been grown from seeds from the apples the tree produces. Best of all, take a look at the map and see if there is one near you!

The Gnarled History of Los Angeles’ Vineyards

Did you know Los Angeles was once known as the “city of vines” because winemaking in California was centered there? Neither did I. Then again, how many of us have heard of the intersection of Hollywood and Vine? I have but never associated the Vine with grape vines.  Some of the original vines have been discovered and this article looks into a part of Los Angeles’ past and how it changed as the city grew.

Less, More, None

What a great concept! This writer keeps a list of what he wants to do less of, more of, and none of. This might be a good way to evaluate where you are midway through the year, and a good way to start setting goals going forward.

The Adventurous Writer Who Brought Nancy Drew To Life

I was a huge Nancy Drew fan in my early teens and given I still love to read adventure and mystery books, obviously struck a chord with me. I enjoyed learning more about the woman who first brought her to life. Take a look and see if you agree with me that Mildred Benson’s own life may have influenced the character she helped create.

How We Discovered Three Poisonous Books In Our University Library

We explore books in libraries to expand our knowledge, not to be poisoned! However, old books may contain substances, especially used for color, now know to be dangerous. Read to see how arsenic was discovered in three books in a library in Denmark.

This Musician’s Songs Give Voice Powerful Voice to a Language in Crisis

I’ve always struggled to learn another language, so the very fact that she can communicate in multiple languages impresses me. The fact she is trying to preserve her native tongue through her music is impressive. It also makes me wonder how many languages (and dialects) are in the world, and how many have already been lost.

When Americans Started Bathing

Mid-19th century saw a change in Americans attitudes toward bathing. Thanks to improving technology, what many of us consider a daily routine (bath or shower) was becoming more fashionable. Which makes me wonder…what on earth did it smell like to be in a room full of people before then???

Is It A Problem If Kids Don’t Know How To Use Dictionaries?

When I was growing up, if I asked my dad how to spell a word, his reply was “look it up.” As mentioned in this article, I often looked at the words around the one I was looking for, yet these days, if I need to check the spelling of a word, I’ll often google it. Still, I am grateful that I know how to look things up, and how fun it can be to check other listings nearby. You never know what you will learn!

Do America’s Reading Habits Explain Today’s Lack of Clear Thinking?

I suspect I’m like many of you and have always loved to read. It has been an escape from bad times, a way to entertain myself when alone and bored, and has provided me with an ongoing education. Looking at the chart, my average daily reading is well above my age group, and I hope it never decreases. I also realize that some people just do not enjoy reading. No great thought on this, just found the article interesting.

That’s this month’s list of links. Please share in the comments any interesting links you have found.

Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Writings For Curious Minds” to get the latest stories and links to interesting articles here.

Creative Beginnings

Sewing and crocheting supples

It was a long day in the car driving 500 miles to visit Grandma’s sister in Alabama. Daddy drove and Momma sat in the back so Grandma, who got car sick, could sit up front. My sister and I were young, and alternated between the front and back seats when we got bored or started picking on each other. To pass the time, Grandma brought hand crafts to work on, and as I watched, she held a piece of fabric with a hoop around it, filling in the printed design with colorful thread. I was used to seeing Grandma put in a hem or sew on a button, but this was different. “What is that?” I asked. It’s embroidery,” she answered, pushing the needle down through the fabric, then pulling it back up again. I kept watching as miles of sugarcane and cotton fields passed outside the car windows. “Will you teach me how to do that?” I asked. “Yes, we’ll get you a piece to work on when we go into town.”


My early embroidery pieces
My first two embroidery pieces

We visited the Five and Dime store the day after arriving so my sister and I could pick something to play with during the trip. I selected a doily, embroidery floss and a set of hoops. Back at Aunt Bonnie’s house, Grandma helped me place the hoops on the fabric, separated the strands of floss, and showed me the basic stitches. Though I worked on the piece the rest of the trip, it was months before it was finally completed. I made another piece and gave both of them to Momma. She used them on a dresser for years, before putting them away, returning them to me a few years ago.


Yarn, crochet hook and work in progress
Crochet work in progress

Grandma also taught me to crochet. Starting with a basic chain stitch, I crocheted a yard or two of it before unraveling to practice it again. Once I had mastered that stitch, she showed me single and double crochet stitches. It fascinated me to take yarn and a crochet hook and make something with it. I have crocheted since then. One Christmas, when I didn’t have much money, I bought yarn and a pattern to crochet scarves for everyone on my list. Years later, I made a couple of afghans for my parents who always appreciated gifts made with love. I even made a few things to sell on Etsy. These days I crochet for fun. I love learning and practicing new stithces, and pull out my supplies when I need a change from writing or a break from everyday stresses.


Sewing and crocheting supples
Grandma’s shears, snippers and other supplies

Grandma moved to live near us when I was about five. I knew she sewed, having made and altered clothes for my sister and me our entire lives, but I saw just how much sewing she did. Besides doing alterations at a local department store, she also sewed for others from home. A room off her bedroom became a sewing room which was filled with stacks of neatly folded fabric with patterns and notes attached, tins of buttons and zippers, and spools of thread. Her black Singer sewing machine was usually threaded and ready to go, while works in progress hung nearby.

Watching her take flat fabric, cut out pieces, and sew it into clothes seemed like magic. I wanted to learn to sew. One Sunday I spent the night with her to help turn pieces from her scrap bag into clothes for my Barbie doll. After supper, I asked if we could start but Grandma said no. “The Bible says Sunday is a day of rest, so we don’t do work,” she told me. For her, sewing was work, understandable since she was paid for it, not a hobby or fun activity. Yet, even after retiring from the store, she continued making clothes and doing alterations. When she passed away, Momma found her sewing room was full of projects, some in progress and others waiting. It may have been work, but it also kept her busy.

Momma taught me how to thread her machine and do basic mending, but in my early teens I wanted to learn more and asked Grandma to help me make a dress. At the fabric store I selected white eyelet fabric adorned with small bouquets of blue flowers and a sewing pattern too complicated for my beginner skills. At Grandma’s house, we laid the cutting board across her bed. Following the pattern directions, she showed me how to find the grain of the fabric and how to lay and pin the pattern pieces for cutting. Using her sharp, heavy shears, we cut out the pieces then organized them in order. I was ready to start sewing, but first there were notches to cut, pieces to baste and darts to put in. Sewing, it turned out, involved a lot more than sitting at a machine sewing pieces together. Even after we started sewing on her Singer, there were more steps than I expected: taking out and re-doing stitches, putting in facings, and ironing pieces so the seams lay the correct way. Impatient to get my dress made, I got bored, lost interest, and quit going to Grandma’s to work on it. Eventually she finished it alone. I enjoyed wearing the dress, but it was always accessorized with a sense of guilt that I had let Grandma down.

I may have been bored, but I did learn to sew. Not only can I sew on a button or repair a hem, I have made and altered clothes for myself. I’ve volunteered in the costume department of local theaters. My favorite thing is to take pieces from different patterns and create my own designs.

I keep returning to the skills Grandma taught me, drawn to use my hands to make things. While I never saw sewing and crocheting from a pattern as being creative, thinking anyone can learn to do it, I was wrong. Though I never believed I was a creative person, I now realize that whenever I make something, I am, in fact, creating the final project. Taking raw materials and turning them into something else is an act of creation.

I am grateful Grandma took the time to teach me. I am grateful I have her shears, snippers and thimble to use. I am grateful I can carry on the tradition of creating things with my hands.

You can listen to the audio version here.

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Royal Wedding


The alarm on my bedside clock began blasting its obnoxious tone at 3:15 am. Half asleep I reached over and hit the snooze button, trying to remember why I had done this to myself. As a night owl, I was more likely to stay up until 3:00 am than get up at that time. It was July 1981. I had recently graduated from high school, and with a month to go before I began college, had no plans that day. I drifted back to sleep until the alarm sounded again. Turning it off, I got up and dressed.

The den was on the opposite side of the house from my parents and younger sister, so I could turn on the TV without waking them. I settled in on the red, green, and gold plaid sofa to watch every minute of the royal wedding of the Lady Diana Spencer and Charles, the Prince of Wales.


Cinderella was always my favorite fairy tale, the story of a lonely girl turned into a princess with some fairy-tale magic and the love of a prince. I felt much like her, overlooked by the boys I went to school with, and dreaming of catching the attention, and love, of my own “prince.” Reading romance novels fueled that desire, as did the news coverage leading up to the wedding, presenting it as a fairy tale come to life.

I loved the history and traditions of the British royal family, its titles, uniforms, and pomp and circumstance, captivating me. The news coverage in the weeks leading up to the ceremony talked of the romance and pageantry while showing scenes of London, a city I dreamed of visiting. Getting up at 3:30 in the morning seemed a small price to pay to experience this moment of history.


The newscasts filled the two hours preceding the ceremony with talk about Charles and Diana’s engagement, especially her sapphire and diamond ring, mention of the royalty, dignitaries and celebrities who would be attending, speculation about what Diana’s dress would look like, and a look back to when Princess Elizabeth married the Duke of Edinburgh in 1947, using her post-WWII rationing coupons to pay for her wedding dress.

Tens of thousands of people lined the route from Buckingham Palace to the Cathedral, many of them having camped out for days to get a prime location. The day was a national holiday and the weather cooperated providing the perfect opportunity for many to see the procession in person.

The guests arrived and entered St. Paul’s Cathedral as the Royal Family departed the Palace in their horse-drawn coaches. Finally, Diana and her father left Clarence House in the enclosed Glass Coach for the 20-minute journey to the Cathedral. She appeared shy and demure behind her veil, waving to the crowd and chatting with her father as they neared their destination. The coach pulled up to the Cathedral steps, and Diana emerged. Her wedding gown of ivory silk taffeta and antique lace featured a large ruffle framing the V-neckline, puffy elbow-length sleeves and a full skirt. Her 25-foot train was wrinkled after the ride in the coach, and she carried a massive bouquet that cascaded to her ankles. She looked every bit the fairy tale princess we thought her to be.


My mom and dad got up, surprised to see me awake so early on a summer morning. They ate breakfast then my dad left to begin his rural mail route. My mom watched from the kitchen window as she washed the dishes before joining me for the exchange of vows. Most memorable were when Diana and Charles each mixed up part of their vows, and when Diana did not promise to obey her husband, giving us a glimpse into a more modern woman behind her shy exterior.

The Prince and Princess of Wales left the church to ringing bells and more cheers from the crowd. Returning to Buckingham Palace in an open coach, they soon appeared on the balcony with the rest of the royal family to wave to the crowd. In the midst of it all, they surprised everyone with a kiss, beginning a new royal wedding tradition.


Little did I know that in a month I would meet the man I would marry two years later. Our wedding wasn’t anything like the royal wedding, yet I felt like a princess in my dress with a train trailing behind me. Instead of a crown, my long veil was attached to a wreath of flowers that encircled my head. It was a perfect day and I thought we were beginning a wonderful life together.

Five years after our wedding, we flew into Heathrow airport to begin a year of living in England. We spent much of our first day in London groggily wandering the streets, trying to find our way from one tourist site to another, seeing in person the places I had dreamed of seeing for years. As we walked down the Mall from Buckingham Palace, passing Clarence House, I was struck by how grand the royal residences were, and how large the city was. Later, I rode the Underground to Sloane Square, walking the places that the Princess had before the world knew who she was.



Sadly, their marriage ended in divorce as did mine. Happily ever after, it turns out, doesn’t happen because you are in love and have a fancy wedding. It takes a lot of hard work, patience, open communication and commitment to see it through. And even then, it may not be enough. People change, priorities shift and sometimes it may be best to end the misery and go separate ways.

Thirty-seven years later, I’m not the naive teenager I was on that July morning. I no longer read romance novels or dream of a “prince” to give me a better life. I have been lucky enough to know couples who had good and strong marriages, who married for love and kept it alive through the years. They give me hope that even if it doesn’t look like the fairy tales I read as a child, there may indeed be happily ever after.

You can listen to the audio version here.

Libraries and Me

Public Library Camden Arkansas

I have used the library most of my life, starting with the Public Library in Camden, Arkansas.* Momma checked out books for me until, when I was about seven or 8, she took me to get my own library card. We climbed the steps to the red brick building, pushed open the heavy door, and stepped inside. As always, I immediately noticed how quiet it was, hearing only the sounds of hushed voices and the librarians checking in and reshelving books. Approaching the desk, Momma told the librarian I wanted to get my own library card. She smiled, took my name, completed the paperwork, and handed me my card with a reminder to bring it with me when I wanted to check out books.

I then headed to the children’s section to slowly look through the shelves of books. While I had books at home to read, the library gave me a larger selection to explore, and I believe having access to them helped grow my interest in reading. Finally selecting a few new ones along with some favorites, I carried them to the desk and handed them and my card to the librarian. She removed the check out cards, stamped them with the return date, and handed the books back to me, telling me to enjoy them. I walked out feeling very grown up.

As I got older, there were fewer trips to the library. I amassed quite a collection of Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, which I read and reread, and romance novels. By high school, English classes required reading many classic works, and with other homework, left little time for pleasure reading. This situation only worsened when I was in college and graduate school. By now, trips to the library were to conduct research for school projects. This was the 1980s before you could find information with an internet connection and a few clicks of a computer mouse. I would wander through the stacks for the books I needed, carefully checking what was located on either side of it, a tip I learned from a professor that I continue using today. Sometimes what I needed was stored on microfilm or microfiche, or was located in a specialized library elsewhere on campus. Other times the resource wasn’t available locally but could be obtained through interlibrary loan, another wonderful service offered by libraries. I cannot count the hours I spent researching and studying in libraries as a young adult. The quiet atmosphere, which I had first noticed as a child, was the perfect change to department study rooms or cramped student housing. Living in England for a year, I researched my Master’s degree thesis in a nearby library, soaking up the history that surrounded me.

In my mid-30s, I moved to a new city as a stay-at-home mom with a four-year-old child. I had time to read for pleasure again, and went to the local library to find books for both of us and to pass on the tradition of exploring shelves to find new things to read. The nearest branch was located in a converted 1903 school building. Our footsteps echoed as we walked down the wood floor until we reached the old door that creaked as we opened it. Inside was the room that housed the library. While small in size, it offered a good selection that was regularly rotated with other books from the library system, as well as Children’s Story Time every Wednesday afternoon. Several years later, a new branch was built, replacing the cramped space in the school building and providing a larger selection of books, plenty of room to sit and read, and ample parking. It was wonderful to be able to find more books close to home, yet I missed the coziness of the previous location, perhaps a reminder of the small library I had frequented as a child.

Moving to Daytona Beach, I quickly got a library card and took advantage of other City Island branch, Volusia County Librarythings the local library offered: free wi-fi when my apartment didn’t have it, a quiet place to work, and DVDs to borrow and watch. Even after I moved and had internet access, I continued using the library, both in person to check out books, and from my computer at home to download books to read on my Kindle. Like many things, I took it for granted, thinking the library would always be there. Then Hurricane Irma blew through in the early morning hours of September 11, 2017, the rain and tidal surge flooding many buildings downtown, including the local library that I use. Seven months later, it is still closed, and I have missed having a library close by, being able to stop in and check out books to take home and browse the shelves of books for sale to find new treasures for my collection.

The latest report is the library plans to reopen in May. I hope so. Libraries have always been in my life, playing a variety of roles as my life has changed. I hope there is always a library nearby.

What role have libraries played in your life?

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*The photo of my hometown library in Camden, Arkansas was taken in late December 2010. Six months later, the library caught fire one night and was destroyed. The library was rebuilt in a new location.