IS PATIENCE A VIRTUE?

Do you sometimes get impatient? I do. Just ask my husband. He’ll probably reveal that I’m very good at it. I’ve learned that people who prefer to be busy most of their waking moments seem to have the most problem with being patient. And, I’m a person who likes to be busy.

In modern terms of today, patience is described as the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset. And, virtue is described at behavior showing high moral standards. The other day I pondered how the definition of patience today has changed so drastically from its definition of fifteen centuries ago.   

The phrase, patience is a virtue, is a proverbial phrase, transmitted by oral tradition, dating back to the fifth century A.D. from an epic poem called  Psychomachig which was written by late antique Latin poet, Prudentius. His seven heavenly virtues are in response to the seven deadly sins, updated also in fifth century A.D. by Pope Gregory I. Obviously, these two opposite groups, virtues and sins, represent the battle between good and evil.

What are the seven virtues? They are chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, kindness , patience, and humility. The deadly sins are: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, envy, wrath, and pride. (Each virtue is considered the opposite of each sin and is listed in the same numerical order.) Thus, patience is used to combat wrath.

But in today’s world, I believe patience now has many different variations and degrees as opposed to its earlier meaning. We are currently living in a world quite unlike the 15^th century where people lived in rural villages, life expectancy was 35 years old, and communications was word of mouth.

According to the medical community, patience is a skill that can be learned and practiced. It’s a result of choosing to emphasize thinking over feeling. The ability of technology to deliver immediate responses has caused us, as humans, to become more impatience. After all, we no longer write letters. Even phone calls take time. We now prefer to message others on our cellphones for a “quick” response.

So how does one solve being impatient? It entails learning to re-evaluate why you are impatient at a specific moment. Slowing down, re-evaluating the situation, focusing on priorities, accepting the inevitable—even resting are some of many ways to help people cope with irritating and annoyed feelings we call impatience.

As our frosty season approaches in Pennsylvania, I’m very content to virtuously and patiently wait as November transitions into winter. You see, I’m not a big fan of Old Man Winter.

Come March, however, I suspect I’ll throw virtue out the window. I’ll be  on the lookout daily for Flora, the Greek Goddess of spring buds and green shoots. Will I be impatiently waiting? Only time will tell. 

NEW - NEW - NEW     

COURTING BETSY -Book 3 of the Ashmore Brothers Series

  

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BRING IT ON, OCTOBER!

There’s something magical about October besides pumpkins, spiced lattes, and stands of maples dressed in a kaleidoscope of color. In Pennsylvania, it’s the month of our first frost and a reminder wintertime is sneaking up.

Many people think northern folks hibernate under the first snowflakes of winter, when the wind rattles the windows, when temperatures plummet. For me, it’s actually a cozy spell and a time for reflection. All indoor, unfinished activities, like cleaning closets, cupboards, or basements—even writing—take front stage.    

There's a saying if you put all your eggs in one basket, be sure to keep your eye on the basket. I prefer to put all my chores on one list and then silently hope it disappears. To date, no one has ever stolen my list!

But seriously, autumn morphing into winter is a perfect time to reassess my writing goals. My main objective this year was to get the third novel of my “Ashmore Brothers” series finished and published. Courting Betsy came out September 1^st.  I would now like to spend more time creating another collection of short stories. And that’s the fun part. That’s when daydreaming comes into play.

Daydreaming is referred to as mind wandering. It’s the stream of consciousness that detaches from current, external tasks. A person’s attention drifts to more internal directions. There are four types of daydreaming: visualization, fantasy, escapism, and rumination. Planning is a popular method of daydreaming as well. As writers, we love to let our minds drift and enter our make-believe worlds. It’s a time to craft new characters and settings, conjure up a story line and plot, do research, and scribble down ideas and notes.

So, bring it on, October. Bring it on!  Blustery winds. Geese in flight. Acorns and tumbling leaves. Vegetable soup simmering on the back of the stove. Hot chocolate and cider. Wood smoke scenting the air. All this and more.

We’re ready for you!

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Motivation and Writing

This year I spent most of my summer trying to get Courting Betsy, Book 3 of the Ashmore Brothers series, finished, edited, and formatted in digital and print for a September release. Courting Betsy is a historical western romantic mystery.

It has taken me two years to finish the novel and get it ready. For some odd reason, I was struggling with motivation. My husband and I had decided not to winter in Florida every year, but discover other places. It meant selling and packing up our condo which was exhausting. I came home to Pennsylvania with little motivation or time for writing.                                                                                             

So what is motivation? It’s basically the instinct to achieve your goals, set priorities, and find ways to energize yourself. Here are some things I learned along the way:

1.  Set small goals and priorities. Break the work into smaller pieces. Sometimes it’s just reading or editing one chapter.

2.  Reward yourself when you take a step forward. Take a break. Sit in the sunshine. Do a small chore that’s been bugging you. (There’s reward in seeing it finished.) And lastly, my favorite: Eat a piece of chocolate.

3.   Forget about comparing yourself to others. Everyone works differently, at different times, and at different speeds.

4.   Stop beating up yourself up when you feel you’re not moving forward, not doing your best. Sometimes pausing and resting in place is what is needed to invigorate yourself. It allows to you take the next step. And yes, you can have a second piece of chocolate!

Let me introduce you to COURTING BETSY. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it!

When Betsy Ashmore, adopted sister to a family of four brothers, discovers U.S. Marshal Luke Ashmore is lying wounded in a renegade Indian camp, she can’t refuse to help a brother in peril—especially one she has loved all her life. With the help of a wily Ute Indian, the spunky shopkeeper saddles up to rescue him.

Marshal Luke Ashmore never expected to be bushwhacked while escorting the young boy of a murdered army scout northward to Fort Collins in the Colorado Territory. Outlaws want the boy and believe he knows the location of a hidden treasure.                                        

As Betsy and Two Bears struggle to get the marshal and the child to safety, can they outwit the ruthless outlaws following them? And what will they do with two more orphaned boys they stumble upon along the trail?

Fall in love with the plucky shopkeeper and her three scheming youngsters—all determined to help the U.S. Marshal lasso her heart so they can become a family.

COURTING BETSY – Ashmore Brothers Book 3 – A Western Romantic Mystery!  Kindle version and print now available on AMAZON:  https://www.amazon.com/Courting-Betsy-Ashmore-Brothers-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0CFSXKH6L/

PORCUPINE FESTIVITIES

The weather in Central Pennsylvania has been fickle this year. Rain falls unexpectedly every other day, followed by periods of extreme heat. It makes for a wonderful atmosphere for our garden plants and flowers which are flourishing this year.

In one of my flowerbeds, as you enter the house through the back door, I have a bed of grape hyacinth which blooms profusely each spring. This summer, some critter keeps digging holes and unearthing the bulbs every night. I was blaming it on a skunk, but the other night my husband discovered a porcupine in front of our unattached garage, located outside the back door. He (or she) was not a large one, and we’re guessing from his size, he’s probably a yearling.                    

After some research, I found that porcupines are nocturnal herbivore rodents, and they eat things such as fruit, roots, tree bark, leaves of plants, flowers, vegetables, and bulbs. They also have a preference for salty items.

FUN FACTS:

They are the largest rodent found in North America and weight around twenty pounds. Basically loners, these rodents prefer to live and forage alone. They are good swimmers and excellent climbers, regularly scaling trees in search of food. Contact with others only occurs during the breeding season when the young, called porcupettes, are born. Bearing twins is unusual.

by jggrz, Pixabay

     Porcupines have about 30,000 quills they can use for 

     defense, but they cannot throw them as many legends 

     have earlier indicated. Porcupines have a range of about 

     14 acres and live an average of 18+ years in North 

     America. 

     Now, the burning question is how does a homeowner get

     rid of this irksome rodent? Unfortunately, the only permanent way is trapping him or fencing your plants, garden, and flowerbeds. Sometimes a liquid repellent from your local hardware store will deter him.

So basically, I’ve concluded that we’re stuck with pesky Mr. Porcupine since none of the above is possible or has worked. I’m told, when he runs out of food, he’ll move on. I’m guessing we’re in a relationship with this critter for the remainder of our summer months. 

                                    SPECIAL SALE FOR CHIRSTMAS IN JULY!

 

 

THE JOY OF JULY

There’s something poignant and special about July. For northern folks in the United States, it means our summer is one-third over—if we count our summer as June, July, and August.

July brings us a heap of good things to experience like beautiful sunsets and the glorious sweet scent of milkweeds blooming along the roadsides shouldering their way among daisies and Queen Anne’s lace. And of course, there’s glorious warm sunshine to enjoy.                                   

My favorite spot during the summer is on our swing on our covered patio, hung near the far edge of the terrace where you can view the stars at night or enjoy a fire blazing in a fireplace several feet beyond. When peace and quiet call the soul, you can sit there any time of the day and just absorb the soothing sounds of country life. The wind whispering in the trees. Birds prattling to each other. The lonesome whistle of a distant train.    

Muggy nights encourage us to linger outside and watch the lightning bugs dance in the grass or watch heat lightning flash across the inky sky. If we’re lucky, we might catch the plaintive call of an owl or night hawk hiding in a nearby tree.

I’m always in awe of the earth beneath us when July rolls around. A garden is one kind of a miracle. We carefully set our plants—flowers, vegetables, and herbs—in the tilled ground or in the buckets in our bucket garden for them to magically flourish using the gifts of soil, sunshine, and showers. Already, parsley, thyme, rosemary, chives, and oregano are ready for use in our summertime sauces, marinates, and favorite dishes.

July is also considered the ideal month for fireworks, picnics, weddings, and celebrations. But it’s also a special time to find joy in the little things and to appreciate the season with its bounty and beauty…even when we know it will end much too soon.

                                         Find them on my AMAZON AUTHOR Page

                JUNE ~ The Pianist        ADELENE ~ The Violinist       LUCY ~ The Clarinetist

 

HAY SEASON ON THE FARM

June is a paradox for children who grew up on farms. It heralds the end of the school year when there are no more books, no more homework, and no more long bus rides winding through the rural backroads ten times a week. It is also a month when the hard work on a farm gets even harder.

June is haying season. It’s a time when hot summer days bring temperatures in the 90s, and farm kids work a job that’s hard, dusty, and endless.

Outside, mowers clatter along in the fields slicing swaths of sweet smelling clover, timothy, fescue and other grasses to be dried in the sun. Later, the hay is raked into fluffy windrows and collected and hauled to the barn’s haymow, pronounced “haymau” with the “mow” rhyming with “cow.”

Before we owned a baler, we collected our loose hay onto an old flatbed milk truck pulling a hay loader. As the dried hay was swept up onto the truck bed in an endless ribbon, Dad spread it evenly around until it reached a heaping full load. Often he let out a sharp whistle to the driver to stop while he pitched out a snake who took a free ride up with the hay. A whistle would also ensue when part of—or an entire—load slid off the bed on a steep hillside with him sailing along with it.

When fully loaded without mishap, the truck was pulled into the haymow where a two-tined hayfork on a track running along the barn’s peak was dropped by a pulley and rope and inserted in the hay. Pulled back up by another rope, the hay bundle slid up and along the rail to be tripped and dumped at the proper location in the barn’s loft.

The words mowing away hay to a farm kid's ears will bring a series of grunts, groans and weary-sounding expletives as a retort. On a hot day, mowing hay meant tearing apart the big heap of hay with a pitchfork and spreading it out to all corners of the loft. The mow was often several temperatures higher than outside. This exhausting, sweltering task went on again and again until the truck bed was empty. 

I often mowed hay for my dad. And I can truly say, I uttered a relieved sigh each time the last forkful was dumped, spread, and I could escape the itchy hayseeds and broiling heat to get a cold drink. Then it was back to the hayfield to do it all over again, constantly searching the bright sky for the smallest hint of rain—the farmer’s worst enemy during haying season. 

~ * ~

Featuring FOUR WHITE ROSES 

Finalist in the Book Excellence Awards, the Georgia Romance Writers' Maggie Award, and the American Fiction Awards.

 

MOTHER'S DAY IN MAY

                                          Your Arms Were Always Open

Your arms were always open
When I needed a hug.

Your heart understood
When I needed a friend.

Your gentle eyes were stern
When I needed a lesson.

Your strength and love
Guided me and gave me wings
To help me soar.

                                  ~Anonymous

April showers bring May flowers. It also allows us to salute mothers all over the world.

When I think about my mother, a farmer’s wife who left this earth too soon, I think of one of the strongest persons I’ve ever known. She was the youngest from a family of nine siblings, and grew up bilingual in a Polish household on a farm outside Clifford, Pennsylvania. Her father, Charles Shefsky, and her mother, Mary, were immigrants. Unfortunately, both my grandfather and grandmother moved to New Jersey and died when I was very young, so I never knew them.

Jean Shefsky Lashinski was a talented lady and seamstress who could sew, crochet, and fashion beautiful articles and clothing on a simple pedal Singer sewing machine. And, she was a skilled crafter and painter as well. From her, I learned to not only make crafts, but also to have a love for books. An avid reader herself, mother made sure my sister and I had books—either purchased or from the Bookmobile—to keep us engaged and entertained with the written word. Obviously, her love for reading rubbed off on me and was the reason I went to college for journalism and communications.

Although she was a very kindhearted person, my mother was also a very stoic, resilient, and outspoken woman for her time. From her, I learned you needed to be able to stand up for what you thought was right, for your own rights, and for the rights of others. She was a strong advocate of women’s rights and routinely worked at her local polling place during election years.

I admit that I still talk to her on occasion when things go wrong or when times seem overwhelming. I can hear her in my head. In her own voice, in her own tone, and in her own words, she would remind me: “Life is tough. You must learn to be tougher.” 

This month, I'm featuring FOUR WHITE ROSES which won three awards 

and has a main character who is a young widow and mother of a little girl. 

 

"Can a wily old ghost help two fractured souls find love again?"