tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75703030234372109882024-02-07T00:15:18.841-06:00Anola Pickett | BlogI write books for children. Here are my thoughts about writing, traveling, teaching and telling stories.Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-91812411151532123442015-06-08T17:00:00.002-05:002015-06-08T17:00:26.881-05:00'Tis the season<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrnXQiE2DMKFUeNZU-Fvhy0HG5cWDemPl74g-Lxw6Nww91t1FPSdKUpQ8UCVypnbB-tOQoyyZgU8v25E2tEaLDCGy77AdwTe-TV7Si1Xp9v5_ai8BMMADwzFGkaXBsV_nHVFQ2IIhKLRM/s1600/20150608_161832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrnXQiE2DMKFUeNZU-Fvhy0HG5cWDemPl74g-Lxw6Nww91t1FPSdKUpQ8UCVypnbB-tOQoyyZgU8v25E2tEaLDCGy77AdwTe-TV7Si1Xp9v5_ai8BMMADwzFGkaXBsV_nHVFQ2IIhKLRM/s200/20150608_161832.jpg" width="200" /></a>June is the season for new life on our little curve of a street. We've been sure for several days that birds were nesting in the holly tree outside our kitchen window. For nearly a month I've seen cardinals flying in and out of the prickly leaved branches, chattering away. I was positive there was a nest in there somewhere but couldn't see it. Peter spotted it near the top of the tree the other day, the same time he saw a sparrow nest lower in the holly branches.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwY02g8ffLOT_oad85uFWLooPmMngtj_oTmN9cfYovQOSDFCpCxaduyRAybPRmzmiOSV3g789HulTVaWpwAR7AJwzmMoR8DVYZzP8WdInBX9_aFbp_MCECUyYj7TYDmMMutgW1Yhrxdtw/s1600/20150608_162002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwY02g8ffLOT_oad85uFWLooPmMngtj_oTmN9cfYovQOSDFCpCxaduyRAybPRmzmiOSV3g789HulTVaWpwAR7AJwzmMoR8DVYZzP8WdInBX9_aFbp_MCECUyYj7TYDmMMutgW1Yhrxdtw/s200/20150608_162002.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Farther out in our backyard, a cowbird family has nested in a dogwood tree, but the nest is nearly invisible. Only a birdwatcher like my husband can see it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBL55OOCIlaMU3F7xzg2qaGuqvI_lNDCAGuUzIik7g_ILIO-5Uf-91uYU7apkUzHhPN81Pp0jWHk1Avx7Yj6uV1LIjHXaUmIA3L8oc7DWQ_lHb0kC2oafcnn28UEsd7x47Q0deUsshR0I/s1600/20150608_161923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBL55OOCIlaMU3F7xzg2qaGuqvI_lNDCAGuUzIik7g_ILIO-5Uf-91uYU7apkUzHhPN81Pp0jWHk1Avx7Yj6uV1LIjHXaUmIA3L8oc7DWQ_lHb0kC2oafcnn28UEsd7x47Q0deUsshR0I/s200/20150608_161923.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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A few yards down the garden, a wren house has its usual spring occupants. </div>
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And last Saturday, just before dawn a baby boy was born next door. Babies and new life abound on McGee this June! All welcome signs of hope in the future and the bonds of family love.<br />
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-3753265402992196102015-05-25T20:49:00.002-05:002015-05-25T20:49:27.940-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By one of those wonderful coincidences that make life so interesting, the book CONSCIENCE arrived in my mailbox today--Memorial Day--the day we set aside to commemorate and honor those who fought in the wars our country has waged over the years. (It's also a legal holiday and there was no mail delivery--except for this book.)<br />
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Written by Louisa Thomas, the book explores her great-grandfather's life and the beliefs that impacted his decisions over the years. Norman Thomas and his three brothers were raised in a religious home, but they each followed a path formed by his own conscience. At the beginning of World War I, Norman was a Presbyterian minister, but by the end of that terrible war, he had become a pacifist. One of his brothers was sentenced to prison for life because he was a conscientious objector. The other two brothers joined the military and served in that "war to end all wars."<br />
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Norman Thomas' book,THE CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR IN AMERICA, begins with this dedication: <br />
"To the brave who went for conscience' sake to trench or prison." Although the four Thomas brothers often disagreed, they apparently came to respect one another's choices.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Zb6Z8rBeOOyvph1BC2uLI7rxRqLWFJ40aJlpd7oYhx3vUDE_K_aL9QungYfg_7hlIok8FoTCk9KPf-jh3W8FywzZEW6BMKdmIx08NMFxdFA7coylgI4TMboLbnUTJbxZH3cT_yBGts0/s1600/callahan-crossroads_9781462117154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Zb6Z8rBeOOyvph1BC2uLI7rxRqLWFJ40aJlpd7oYhx3vUDE_K_aL9QungYfg_7hlIok8FoTCk9KPf-jh3W8FywzZEW6BMKdmIx08NMFxdFA7coylgI4TMboLbnUTJbxZH3cT_yBGts0/s200/callahan-crossroads_9781462117154.jpg" width="133" /></a>I've just begun reading CONSCIENCE, but already I feel a connection. the family in my book CALLAHAN CROSSROADS is divided over the right way to respond to Woodrow Wilson's call to serve in the war. The twelve-year-old narrator George begins to realize that things are not always black and white and that each person has to make an individual choice, according to what he or she thinks and believes.<br />
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I'm glad Louisa Thomas' book arrived on Memorial Day. Just the first few pages offer insights into conscience--how it's formed, how it changes and how it impacts our lives. It promises to be a thoughtful read.<br />
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-79433170297915769982015-02-20T14:02:00.000-06:002015-02-20T14:03:39.847-06:00WHOSE LIFE IS MADE BETTER?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We Americans often say that people from foreign countries emigrate to the US in order to find a "better life." I'm sure that's true. Today and throughout our country's brief history, others have sought our shores to escape poverty, prejudice, and lately, terrorism and its effects. They've come seeking freedom and all that word implies.<br />
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But in the past two weeks, I've had occasion to look at immigration in another light. First, a woman from South Vietnam cut and styled my hair. She was outgoing and pleasant and did a good job on my hair, giving me just the cut I'd asked for.<br />
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A few days later I went to a lab for a routine test. At this time of year, the usual opening conversation is about the weather, which in the Midwest jumps from frigid to warm in a matter of a day. When I called this "yo-yo" weather, the technician looked puzzled. I demonstrated how the toy works, going up and down, and she smiled. "I remember this from my physics course." We began talking about idioms and how they take one deeper into the cultural aspects of language. She asked if I'd read<i> The Kite Runner</i> (I had read that wonderful novel.) and told me she was from the same ethnic group as the main character.<br />
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During the following week, I went with my husband to visit his cardiologist, a quietly confident, friendly man from India. His nurse, calm and pleasant, was from Laos. They both answered questions and offered reassurance as we talked.<br />
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So, in the course of several days, a beautician from South Vietnam, a technician from Afghanistan, a physcian from India and his nurse from Laos all offered me kindness, professionalism, courtesy and provided me with a variety of services.<br />
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I'm trusting that their lives are better than in the country they came from. I know for sure that my life was made better because they're here!</div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-89411530049464079692014-08-16T20:14:00.000-05:002014-08-18T14:02:50.556-05:00MORE GARDEN THOUGHTS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I last posted here in June and wrote about my tendency to have incredibly clever ideas for writing while I was planting and weeding in my backyard garden. I lamented that as soon as I stepped inside, those ideas vanished before I could sit down at my laptop or even make a quick note on paper. Summer's drawing to a close and now I'm reaping tomatoes and argula and and summer squash and kale--and, of course, still weeding.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9w4z_CNMIgCjCr4LJzpugHFfEobzK6qGGzyAfsumE8cSjMB9bKdBBUl7G5gwdKS4Jiu49urJj2yyxWtTd3XGd5KYZdusm45cJA5EafKYY7RMWgPRC6PTX0p8EBnv8uZXH_4_s9b_w2pU/s1600/20130813_073207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9w4z_CNMIgCjCr4LJzpugHFfEobzK6qGGzyAfsumE8cSjMB9bKdBBUl7G5gwdKS4Jiu49urJj2yyxWtTd3XGd5KYZdusm45cJA5EafKYY7RMWgPRC6PTX0p8EBnv8uZXH_4_s9b_w2pU/s1600/20130813_073207.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomatoes, fresh from my garden. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I'm also reaping ideas while gardening, but they seem to be more remembrances than the creation of something new. I've just finished a massive revision of THE PRIVATE WARS OF G. P. CALLAHAN and so am on a writing furlough for the moment. My gardening thoughts have turned to memories of friends and loved ones. People dear to me, important to me, some of whom I haven't called or emailed for too long a time.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My garden thoughts fly away.</td></tr>
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While pulling weeds, I remember the past and make a promise to myself that I'll drop an old friend a line, or email a sister-in-law, or give an elderly friend from church a call. But, like my writing ideas, those promises seem to fly away before I step inside my home.<br />
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Why does this happen? I'm not sure. Could be that the duties of my "inside" life crowd away any thoughts I had in the sunshine. Could be that my attention span is way too short. Or maybe my brain can't handle more than one thought at <br />
a time. Surely it's not because I'm growing old!<br />
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I once told a friend that, although I hadn't called for a while, I often thought of her. She assured me that she believes that whenever we think of someone, it's a blessing for that person. It's as if we're offering a prayer for her, even though she may never know it. I find that comforting. This summer I've prayed for lots of people! Amen.</div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-18130015304003962362014-06-09T21:01:00.000-05:002014-06-09T21:01:23.686-05:00BLOGGING IN THE GARDEN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wish could store ideas in this fanciful hat until I get to the computer.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I'm appalled to see how long it's been since I've posted anything here. It's not because I haven't composed any blogs. It's just that I seem to come up with ideas and their development while I'm digging or weeding or planting something in the garden. I'm full of meaningful thoughts and clever ways to embellish them when I'm outdoors, but they all seem to elude me once I'm inside, where phone calls and bills and unfinished manuscripts take me away from my garden thoughts.<br />
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It's as if my mind opens up when I'm down in the dirt. Ideas are planted and nourished. A blog thought blossoms into unbelievable beauty and depth. I smile as I weed, picturing readers who will be amazed at my clever turn of phrase or unusual take on a news item.<br />
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Then the wind of life blows across my garden plot and pulls me inside. All those ideas scatter like seeds not planted deeply enough and I can't retrieve them. Sigh!<br />
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Well, at least today I've managed to sit down and blog about not blogging.<span id="goog_558167698"></span><span id="goog_558167699"></span> There are parallels I could draw here to the writing process, but I'll think about that tomorrow.<br />
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-70376480252709749572014-02-19T08:30:00.000-06:002014-02-22T18:57:55.604-06:00IN THE PARKS...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peace Park in Hong Kong is dedicated to those who died in WWII.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5YaJK_4oEtQ3A_V6ny0LCDw5xbrJta0dlGt62EGMEEM-NhMXYbVzOfhntIWx2B_4emw54zs6cGEkfyWdnjEI2PlVTfAeTGRqDJgPSffUBSiu8DnHKCNIK2tHTXCUTQ-bejDQFZ0n6kI/s1600/20131027_145859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5YaJK_4oEtQ3A_V6ny0LCDw5xbrJta0dlGt62EGMEEM-NhMXYbVzOfhntIWx2B_4emw54zs6cGEkfyWdnjEI2PlVTfAeTGRqDJgPSffUBSiu8DnHKCNIK2tHTXCUTQ-bejDQFZ0n6kI/s1600/20131027_145859.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragon statue in Zodiac Park, Kowloon.</td></tr>
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One of the most interesting aspects of our trip to China and Hong Kong was the chance to see how the residents use their parks. All ages
took part in activities there, from senior citizens knitting or
practicing qigong or tai chi to young adults dancing and playing games.
China's parks are well used, and tourists are welcome to enjoy the fresh
air and beauty, as well as to join in the fun!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People light candles in the Great Buddha park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a polite way to say "Keep off the Grass!" (Happy is the tender grass when here your feet do not trespass!)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young adults play keep-away in waterside park on Llama Island near Hong Kong.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniNMzgMSXcrIjZ_xMYOd3KE0Vs-dc2TAPlbHSnXKIbSrWzneV2S3GN4ge48bA8zfhA5YeNbtOyVxbYV7KzAXUsbVB_fWr6KPOJ7WRTq-oOkGlrsJ4PhAnclCZaFNu4keZ_5tizurc1XY/s1600/20131031_094838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniNMzgMSXcrIjZ_xMYOd3KE0Vs-dc2TAPlbHSnXKIbSrWzneV2S3GN4ge48bA8zfhA5YeNbtOyVxbYV7KzAXUsbVB_fWr6KPOJ7WRTq-oOkGlrsJ4PhAnclCZaFNu4keZ_5tizurc1XY/s1600/20131031_094838.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tourists join the dance in Beijing.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCT7obrOIcezgC1G9-OgbMhNlWr_kC_IB7IbGZU13knkqq0x8F_1eTmeihr8pAolfn8t9qWuCs8ckmvezdegi4SiEksYYPoJ23CWgh5lJeWHOLtO9kuEYEH3Qh3Cc0oWUh9wWulzw-5o/s1600/P1010866+221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCT7obrOIcezgC1G9-OgbMhNlWr_kC_IB7IbGZU13knkqq0x8F_1eTmeihr8pAolfn8t9qWuCs8ckmvezdegi4SiEksYYPoJ23CWgh5lJeWHOLtO9kuEYEH3Qh3Cc0oWUh9wWulzw-5o/s1600/P1010866+221.jpg" height="201" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hacken sack with a feathered birdie. Looks like fun!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIOSqTBmyBwWEDQp_l6o2wy7dxB4ereKjEN7PSy1yE1jRdtdT_8FKnoITJu4e1y8xLiSHCXYQfUmWMce16H7cZJoR1cbv0aAtL-wHq_5egL7QuD0MEd75OMUTdDsqKocKd-A2VJqN34A/s1600/P1010875+230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIOSqTBmyBwWEDQp_l6o2wy7dxB4ereKjEN7PSy1yE1jRdtdT_8FKnoITJu4e1y8xLiSHCXYQfUmWMce16H7cZJoR1cbv0aAtL-wHq_5egL7QuD0MEd75OMUTdDsqKocKd-A2VJqN34A/s1600/P1010875+230.jpg" height="201" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More dancers. Two-step to "Red River Valley."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJHSKXfbuEUCMgIGrnGxTlpGlbyuN6IgevBkntt1JW__ijRamPOxB6SfwFBYouRFj1VZjINZ8QV2enITNL2DBrISmHrhY9O2B2xP1mz0brF_nilODw1pob4IZWtQKslIyTt0nlPa_VWI/s1600/P1010867+222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJHSKXfbuEUCMgIGrnGxTlpGlbyuN6IgevBkntt1JW__ijRamPOxB6SfwFBYouRFj1VZjINZ8QV2enITNL2DBrISmHrhY9O2B2xP1mz0brF_nilODw1pob4IZWtQKslIyTt0nlPa_VWI/s1600/P1010867+222.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water calligraphy. Beautiful and artistic. It disappears when the water dries. A good example of valuing the process, not just the product.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsNr5ydQfX9vrPSR5NV5jNpQFHNWS1EHJ2GlGsQDqUorufh-HBZ6H_vcMqXts6XOo9mU7uzS5m1j_csaEeyrElPMTw30LPJsSkQMWPE-IR3MZjuK_PojpDNdpWBStDg5gZKESQbElzrA/s1600/P1010913+268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsNr5ydQfX9vrPSR5NV5jNpQFHNWS1EHJ2GlGsQDqUorufh-HBZ6H_vcMqXts6XOo9mU7uzS5m1j_csaEeyrElPMTw30LPJsSkQMWPE-IR3MZjuK_PojpDNdpWBStDg5gZKESQbElzrA/s1600/P1010913+268.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A covered walkway in Beijing's Peoples Park was lined with knitters and people playing Mah Jongg, chess and checkers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-32335929446776772442014-02-03T16:39:00.003-06:002014-02-03T16:39:54.363-06:00THE PANDA!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXr8v2l7tuwca6wqErKRBvlz5TeYiwXKtOhdBnkEvxc5IMxK5pQ601eI-8PASeXsjQwzBDEFYUK2Oy5ahLHkt2U1VOEufI5Uu4bj-VigwzOLLMVDGI4_RJoSugiOReTwcGR9Zwc8njcXE/s1600/20131105_154249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXr8v2l7tuwca6wqErKRBvlz5TeYiwXKtOhdBnkEvxc5IMxK5pQ601eI-8PASeXsjQwzBDEFYUK2Oy5ahLHkt2U1VOEufI5Uu4bj-VigwzOLLMVDGI4_RJoSugiOReTwcGR9Zwc8njcXE/s1600/20131105_154249.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pandas like to climb and take shelter in hollow trees or rock crevices.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
LUNCH BREAK AT THE ZOO<br />
<br />
On a rainy day in Chongqing, we visited the zoo's panda pavilion at lunch time.<br />
<br />
We were able to see six pandas doing what pandas do best--eat bamboo. Although there were bamboo structures similar to a school jungle gym in each enclosure, we were told that these gentle giants mostly eat and sleep.<br />
<br />
It soon became obvious why these intriguing bears are considered China's National Treasure!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3FkEnc7jRo_USErkyI5AiG8GsjOU0T2VAU2mNbKXM3TuMl_6WEI8I1dK0BGj-gljnaDz2L2mgH7bdJd7bdHxf5GrYOv0z9Jh7xZR2VKzSyseMb4BwhI6ZfrMNusIMdI6R_HuRAP0ERA/s1600/20131105_154435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3FkEnc7jRo_USErkyI5AiG8GsjOU0T2VAU2mNbKXM3TuMl_6WEI8I1dK0BGj-gljnaDz2L2mgH7bdJd7bdHxf5GrYOv0z9Jh7xZR2VKzSyseMb4BwhI6ZfrMNusIMdI6R_HuRAP0ERA/s1600/20131105_154435.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
They are solitary creatures and don't mind turning their backs on visitors.</div>
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<br />
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UNLESS THEY'RE BUSY EATING!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8WdaSns1puGZRj0olkPNKcns_ZDyZv1kgH3-DEQHTu_C9HXmJv3gceoYsKYUGO1fJ0pDfHKMXn4ZgFaV0UVTwnn82-16MBN7ZMmYr-LbEjRKldWsZC0DpxDCNILnMp8EwESa5HUXUkI/s1600/20131105_160432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8WdaSns1puGZRj0olkPNKcns_ZDyZv1kgH3-DEQHTu_C9HXmJv3gceoYsKYUGO1fJ0pDfHKMXn4ZgFaV0UVTwnn82-16MBN7ZMmYr-LbEjRKldWsZC0DpxDCNILnMp8EwESa5HUXUkI/s1600/20131105_160432.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
...and eating<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMt0-1GAcp93mjFb4TgBrYCy7v5vqCyEaEUrW3oxKbOGuQkRWyEmf2BuMGjuT422vx38dTm5voYUOZigT_m7IwHM0S2Inq26ITwJ6pDSVPpJJ829uyqrCAcvoHN3AYBqebdGuxCdDFpU/s1600/20131105_160435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMt0-1GAcp93mjFb4TgBrYCy7v5vqCyEaEUrW3oxKbOGuQkRWyEmf2BuMGjuT422vx38dTm5voYUOZigT_m7IwHM0S2Inq26ITwJ6pDSVPpJJ829uyqrCAcvoHN3AYBqebdGuxCdDFpU/s1600/20131105_160435.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">...and eating</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf7Wm902Mt35B9gp_3cz1yLhYi6tG5q8l6ILWhgxJ9ORZnTYzgqCt9XfYoQplndpAjhNnf9g8L6cdi8iKQNZdG1nR0Cb17R-n2-clzVeTK_N38ibU_xmY3B4dxoIouImPVcm9HlSwXDMY/s1600/20131105_160437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf7Wm902Mt35B9gp_3cz1yLhYi6tG5q8l6ILWhgxJ9ORZnTYzgqCt9XfYoQplndpAjhNnf9g8L6cdi8iKQNZdG1nR0Cb17R-n2-clzVeTK_N38ibU_xmY3B4dxoIouImPVcm9HlSwXDMY/s1600/20131105_160437.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
..and eating some more.</h4>
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The last enclosure we visited seemed larger than the others, and the eldest female resides there. She's the mother/grandmother of several of the pandas in the zoo and seemed happy to rest on her laurels.<br />
<br />
A panda cub is pink, blind and toothless when born and weighs from 3 to 5 ounces, about 1/800th of its mother's weight. When we visited, a mother and her newborn cub were in isolation, so we weren't able to see this tiny miracle in person. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9maZJfogKlZW9TmLr5t-USZNqi5HO1k8vEQJiJb0aN5B-RT-audRg1JszCNjDEITnK3OmeT89fT1FKHbTAb6t5D0ExjkDTQiCvbktgfM0aB9HNVoTMj_5YKuDzKM9JTR-CLxbQT75GL0/s1600/20131105_161440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9maZJfogKlZW9TmLr5t-USZNqi5HO1k8vEQJiJb0aN5B-RT-audRg1JszCNjDEITnK3OmeT89fT1FKHbTAb6t5D0ExjkDTQiCvbktgfM0aB9HNVoTMj_5YKuDzKM9JTR-CLxbQT75GL0/s1600/20131105_161440.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma bear enjoys her lunch--and solitude.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73IlEFmdnRI65QbUJzVLT60kB_p5kCjqqbcmNKiNRcN_NaZCRo6uanlYm_sSb1RsXQW1AtN9O3qd9S1lYAclx-CrzG87w4ZuErEc0BkC8btmE2rpKjVJF7coUw2arjsQF-ek1aFjbAHA/s1600/20131105_161550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73IlEFmdnRI65QbUJzVLT60kB_p5kCjqqbcmNKiNRcN_NaZCRo6uanlYm_sSb1RsXQW1AtN9O3qd9S1lYAclx-CrzG87w4ZuErEc0BkC8btmE2rpKjVJF7coUw2arjsQF-ek1aFjbAHA/s1600/20131105_161550.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudLIRMlNntvixUfVNk_bxY0Osn-UEyoctQBEGZFztoGVYGJHaeTbeyuJQINwMuWWeIb1jm_JGF0isjTNQXTC5gZ7-ppTKeyfVJatbbglpQHOHHKrXdC9FwPSHk8qk-u8LH_D5Wv-pA8A/s1600/20131105_162447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudLIRMlNntvixUfVNk_bxY0Osn-UEyoctQBEGZFztoGVYGJHaeTbeyuJQINwMuWWeIb1jm_JGF0isjTNQXTC5gZ7-ppTKeyfVJatbbglpQHOHHKrXdC9FwPSHk8qk-u8LH_D5Wv-pA8A/s1600/20131105_162447.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
In the past pandas were thought to be rare and noble creatures. The Empress Dowager Bo was buried with a panda skull in her vault. Today pandas are rare and considered endangered. Their natural habitat in the Sichuan province was been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.</div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-53697524376169524302014-01-23T15:54:00.000-06:002014-01-23T15:54:45.525-06:00THE GREAT WALL AND BEYOND<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkodPhlT6OvOXqNg6CLB3eBmVTrR9xWUPJAFn-dVmX4QO4dDny2XoJZes5kZA1LbeJgizoENfmbm8sdY4hjrPl0btWJHlCX_encUGSzJLMyVCj_pumyEkVDgV9yau4tlXDshGhb3Ffk1s/s1600/20131030_150746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkodPhlT6OvOXqNg6CLB3eBmVTrR9xWUPJAFn-dVmX4QO4dDny2XoJZes5kZA1LbeJgizoENfmbm8sdY4hjrPl0btWJHlCX_encUGSzJLMyVCj_pumyEkVDgV9yau4tlXDshGhb3Ffk1s/s1600/20131030_150746.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As amazing as the wall is, its surrounding scenery is breathtaking!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We found the Great Wall fascinating, but<br />
were also pleasantly surprised to find that it<br />
wound its way through gorgeous mountains and foliage. <br />
<br />
The Great Wall is actually a discontinuous network of wall segments built by various dynasties to protect China's northern boundary.<br />
<br />
It's usually included in the list of the<br />
Seven Wonders of the Medieval World and<br />
is on UNESCO's list of great national and<br />
historical sites.<br />
<br />
The wall is around 2,145 miles long,<br />
with an extra 1,770 miles of branches<br />
and spurs. Parts of it are over 2000 years old.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtGZ7Z4pIM3S51Q94lIQSK0u9KAfRNHznOOXk-NglIn1NYE0MAWQFfx22Wc9g3aGe1RvP8GjmJ3DZgtMLg2EGoKSnANbKlcaNlrYgQ4DqoGYjyxPFo7tHkLv6aqG4QXQOog-CLSU4ixQ/s1600/20131030_151955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtGZ7Z4pIM3S51Q94lIQSK0u9KAfRNHznOOXk-NglIn1NYE0MAWQFfx22Wc9g3aGe1RvP8GjmJ3DZgtMLg2EGoKSnANbKlcaNlrYgQ4DqoGYjyxPFo7tHkLv6aqG4QXQOog-CLSU4ixQ/s1600/20131030_151955.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Built for military defense, the wall accommodated traffic of soldiers, horses, and vehicles.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAWcxySiNgL-GjL2oW221-D-qAN_s7DpsVEHtCDBpvG0new6KJeRYFCrQXcrEK8ST-Q3ZvbV618ls652FMYpyomO-q7wIBcd3B1hW7LP5Qc25yoPyEX-qpDo1q9apab-PW4y-aUy1CZ5I/s1600/20131030_152234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAWcxySiNgL-GjL2oW221-D-qAN_s7DpsVEHtCDBpvG0new6KJeRYFCrQXcrEK8ST-Q3ZvbV618ls652FMYpyomO-q7wIBcd3B1hW7LP5Qc25yoPyEX-qpDo1q9apab-PW4y-aUy1CZ5I/s1600/20131030_152234.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's estimated that more than 1,000,000 workers died during the wall's construction.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoSktgRkJz6PzFthqSW_h0VAcb6hiq1qFJBQQD0kWXczRKHi2VHf3ZICRVlQbQLaGnHsLE_SGrs2zTs6R1RZeQK3aBBeDfhSghxzFx_tW6lBT65O3ECJYOfJEiSuAXpmFc7SkO40YkE3I/s1600/20131030_153518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoSktgRkJz6PzFthqSW_h0VAcb6hiq1qFJBQQD0kWXczRKHi2VHf3ZICRVlQbQLaGnHsLE_SGrs2zTs6R1RZeQK3aBBeDfhSghxzFx_tW6lBT65O3ECJYOfJEiSuAXpmFc7SkO40YkE3I/s1600/20131030_153518.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of autumn splendor from the wall.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHah7vvCne7IhVPyrXtHDzNWQ7Jos_pDroe0p-yK0fmyXE4Gx2DYRwt7eGXOUkJBz6Y9dUa4HRGgTvO5Gyb9BdGLLSSHsNjT-khAl5_9ZKCprI3GP_7T1FNexqU0O7yN7FLbQEjAvPMh8/s1600/20131030_154026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHah7vvCne7IhVPyrXtHDzNWQ7Jos_pDroe0p-yK0fmyXE4Gx2DYRwt7eGXOUkJBz6Y9dUa4HRGgTvO5Gyb9BdGLLSSHsNjT-khAl5_9ZKCprI3GP_7T1FNexqU0O7yN7FLbQEjAvPMh8/s1600/20131030_154026.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from a watchtower.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPJoSA_7nUQi_SJHvXrsxFqXlOoH2QT3arZ9aGuxp8O-k-hUfSb695MSFtwmtVUFILJ5-Kmr7iamAJNuT4EtcUPAOJY06D0oLSM5ZtwIHlmz8PziTpC8CyIsF5z3ZV4Ua1_XL2YAAV3Y/s1600/20131030_154111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPJoSA_7nUQi_SJHvXrsxFqXlOoH2QT3arZ9aGuxp8O-k-hUfSb695MSFtwmtVUFILJ5-Kmr7iamAJNuT4EtcUPAOJY06D0oLSM5ZtwIHlmz8PziTpC8CyIsF5z3ZV4Ua1_XL2YAAV3Y/s1600/20131030_154111.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From this vantage point, soldiers used weapons such as axes, sledge hammers,<br />
crossbows, and gunpowder--a Chinese invention</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt-rvPyu7ZiB8XkXc0eVaPAu4oK70AG-yRVrW8lldXhGxElIg1vm5JpfhseVlvjxjSbhtzfjqgqhwuFPFLwPJm4hCmG9xxHhEVIQZJx620E4AZDl4R1XLy5vrMwJFm7JtBaRTiPEyE0Y/s1600/20131030_154232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt-rvPyu7ZiB8XkXc0eVaPAu4oK70AG-yRVrW8lldXhGxElIg1vm5JpfhseVlvjxjSbhtzfjqgqhwuFPFLwPJm4hCmG9xxHhEVIQZJx620E4AZDl4R1XLy5vrMwJFm7JtBaRTiPEyE0Y/s1600/20131030_154232.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The western section also provided defense for those traveling the Silk Road.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDqaHWa4VcljDYkoYaAFNqkQxGMjlhEs4U17beAz11al_N2iF1uR7o6aM4vvbRb4m-l4aqiucVE1I2KGO7kPVhtMXgnnLlKX5bxQW3tv2PfRzjppjQ_XKIA83MTLd0pFTl73gonbDfgc/s1600/20131030_160603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDqaHWa4VcljDYkoYaAFNqkQxGMjlhEs4U17beAz11al_N2iF1uR7o6aM4vvbRb4m-l4aqiucVE1I2KGO7kPVhtMXgnnLlKX5bxQW3tv2PfRzjppjQ_XKIA83MTLd0pFTl73gonbDfgc/s1600/20131030_160603.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wall was begun over 2000 years ago. Today, this tree <br />
guards one of the ramps built for handicapped access.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1anrXlzvegE0f5oRI18yB8cC4AagDRegJxsLdkqICfQA5p92wQVvPzZtDQzE9F1DKu0xcmoM7DewOeVTF5cKNMMx9CBJMc2b_H7E4um2j8UHicyhiV1rUUebq9deEb3EC_-rvsHyiAJQ/s1600/20131030_160855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1anrXlzvegE0f5oRI18yB8cC4AagDRegJxsLdkqICfQA5p92wQVvPzZtDQzE9F1DKu0xcmoM7DewOeVTF5cKNMMx9CBJMc2b_H7E4um2j8UHicyhiV1rUUebq9deEb3EC_-rvsHyiAJQ/s1600/20131030_160855.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tourists taking the stairs to an entrance. Lots of climbing!</td></tr>
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-45597423282895681352014-01-17T16:12:00.000-06:002014-01-17T16:13:33.544-06:00TRAVEL SURPRISES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We recently returned from a trip to Hong Kong and China and, as always, our travels were sprinkled with surprises. In addition to exploring the Great Wall, enjoying a delicious variety of regional food, marveling at the Terra Cotta Soldiers, Tianenmen Square, the Summer Palace, the Li and Yangtze rivers, and all the natural and architectural and historic sites, we constantly encountered the unexpected.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXF_Kdv2BZxB5CCLwBXymiennMJCOFr3-_Bw0u91ar7GhB5KChWvVvoBU2LLT33gQ0f2rYUy-_ISQJroqtcrPUNppgnj8zrMn7yEVJ6QuLh9PzES_4El8e6FfMNakj7EgP09DbJaQxRs/s1600/20131027_122218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXF_Kdv2BZxB5CCLwBXymiennMJCOFr3-_Bw0u91ar7GhB5KChWvVvoBU2LLT33gQ0f2rYUy-_ISQJroqtcrPUNppgnj8zrMn7yEVJ6QuLh9PzES_4El8e6FfMNakj7EgP09DbJaQxRs/s1600/20131027_122218.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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HALLOWEEN Trick or Treat...In both Hong Kong and China, </div>
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we found evidence of Halloween celebrations. </div>
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A street market in Hong Kong offered scary pastries and </div>
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vendors in costume. When we arrived at our hotel in Xi'an, China, </div>
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it was Halloween night. Costumed staff greeted us </div>
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with light-up skull pins left over from a celebration. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3fCuT-bkP7_JSOmi_bDK6HlKmQsigPvirwifqZiMuCYwuvnsLaUBeX4MwFMGyE7eecVIRtubBXhnA1iHt0xWS3E0BIeyI9AjmM_ZmLZiImjQRfyzdmbpHcJLGcIB9cr8t-sj1A94dKo/s1600/20131029_122055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3fCuT-bkP7_JSOmi_bDK6HlKmQsigPvirwifqZiMuCYwuvnsLaUBeX4MwFMGyE7eecVIRtubBXhnA1iHt0xWS3E0BIeyI9AjmM_ZmLZiImjQRfyzdmbpHcJLGcIB9cr8t-sj1A94dKo/s1600/20131029_122055.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uniforms, backpacks, phones and vigilant teachers.</td></tr>
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FIELD TRIPS are the same everywhere in the world, it seems. Our first day in Beijing, we visited Tianenman Square and found ourselves touring behind a school field trip. The students' bright blue uniforms made them easy to spot. Ten-year-old chatter and antics are universal!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iArjJFX5hMtaCSelp7Is4MTBAHR26DoAuKgXutcm94mbFCigKXEzolqwhZ3dS_WoJqYn5OOEV4lslAVpCUvByx5k_mNOn68VLzHsHq8H5e9lZSsf3lH_XrwlWOrLAaEyEXHmBu_M8Vo/s1600/20131102_121536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-iArjJFX5hMtaCSelp7Is4MTBAHR26DoAuKgXutcm94mbFCigKXEzolqwhZ3dS_WoJqYn5OOEV4lslAVpCUvByx5k_mNOn68VLzHsHq8H5e9lZSsf3lH_XrwlWOrLAaEyEXHmBu_M8Vo/s1600/20131102_121536.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Muslim Quarter Market<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">GULLIN LADIES</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Outside Gullin, we visited a 350-year-old</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">house where two widowed sisters-in-law </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">lived. Their children had built them a</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">new home, but they preferred to live</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">here, in what was originally a general's</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">home. They proudly showed us their</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">possessions, including a coffin! </span></div>
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ANOTHER XI'AN SURPRISE<br />
Our second day in Xian we visited the<br />
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Muslim Quarter of that city, which is on the eastern edge of the Silk Road. We learned that there has been a sizable Muslim population in that region for over 1000 years, a result <span style="font-size: small;">of the Silk Road trade route.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk31-_O_iP-XWVAvbUn-q9dnyeBSGVh-5fkbBZqFB9nZOtczc7yQcLwlSFB5lq9_1LmZMeK9M3bir_Zm_HBI2-YamSl58S44bPAvKFxjLWuWxj1hJpAH3yAu4CeqJShFDVfRpJC7g6ddw/s1600/20131104_153318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk31-_O_iP-XWVAvbUn-q9dnyeBSGVh-5fkbBZqFB9nZOtczc7yQcLwlSFB5lq9_1LmZMeK9M3bir_Zm_HBI2-YamSl58S44bPAvKFxjLWuWxj1hJpAH3yAu4CeqJShFDVfRpJC7g6ddw/s1600/20131104_153318.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Widow proudly displays her coffin made by a son.</td></tr>
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THREE GORGES DAM<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Wherever we went, people wanted their photo taken with our group's redhead or with our tallest white-haired Gweilo. At the Three Gorges Dam park, several "redheads" got in the act.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RbPbqiqUzLu8rTrvKXhwXYUrCI-D8uWM9JDbCRUzDLHhlOe2ZWljKzWza1hJFbUlOS9ywmbvzbohk9Oh9CgMX_Rq7eOcf9eHKA3tCEqKJMbyQtX9r3DJ0UjjawWOA4wBdccyzZEY2R8/s1600/20131108_100916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RbPbqiqUzLu8rTrvKXhwXYUrCI-D8uWM9JDbCRUzDLHhlOe2ZWljKzWza1hJFbUlOS9ywmbvzbohk9Oh9CgMX_Rq7eOcf9eHKA3tCEqKJMbyQtX9r3DJ0UjjawWOA4wBdccyzZEY2R8/s1600/20131108_100916.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Three Gorges Dam, a group shot of redheads!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC_jCY4Ml-nH79V8ACbR42Y7Y37PkE3cXR0FgozmNiusKUBQTqIB0vTburHQURNcXWJp-g8f2VMoWt6wKHCXtX-Nk5fp0UA5z2nNmgLw9unzT5R0VPJBUbFRE9pZ0Aix1infZTqmOI4c/s1600/20131111_155323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC_jCY4Ml-nH79V8ACbR42Y7Y37PkE3cXR0FgozmNiusKUBQTqIB0vTburHQURNcXWJp-g8f2VMoWt6wKHCXtX-Nk5fp0UA5z2nNmgLw9unzT5R0VPJBUbFRE9pZ0Aix1infZTqmOI4c/s1600/20131111_155323.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Shanghai Book Store's Children's Book Section</td></tr>
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SHANGHAI DOUBLE SURPRISE </div>
Like a giant Barnes and Noble, the Shanghai<br />
Book Store is seven stories of every<br />
imaginable book genre, plus games<br />
and puzzles, stationery and cards, and, of<br />
course, a Starbucks. While we sipped our<br />
latte and herbal tea, we enjoyed Christmas<br />
music. So there we were in Shanghai listening to<br />
Feliz Navidad. Surprise!<br />
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We had trouble finding the store and<br />
stopped at a police station for help.<br />
No one there spoke English but we<br />
were able to convey what we were looking for<br />
and a police woman walked us to the corner<br />
and pointed down the street. Surprise!</div>
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-41830774061069770022013-09-23T15:28:00.001-05:002013-09-23T15:35:19.375-05:00TWO-THIRDS ISN'T ENOUGHThis morning, as I was sipping coffee and reading the few pages that now constitute the Monday morning newspaper, our lights went out. At least some of them did. In the kitchen, the fridge was still operating, but not the stove. The toaster worked, but not the microwave. Our computers were powerless, as were our chargers and garage door opener. The overhead light fixtures--in some rooms--worked, but not in others. Most table lamps lit up, but not all.<br />
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The automated response to a call to the power company promised that they were working to fix our problem. We were mystified about how they could tell what the problem was, much less fix it from a distance. A few hours later a lineman came to climb our electric pole and investigate. He reported that one of the three lines into our house had come loose. It took him a while, but he repaired the line and seemed as pleased about that as we were. <br />
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This episode reminds me that two-thirds is never as good as the whole. Writing a novel involves at least three-thirds: plot, setting and characters. Try writing with only two of the three. I've gotten carried away with one of the three, jumping into great detail about a character's appearance and back story but forgetting the she exists in a time and place or that she has a problem to solve. So, like an effective electricity delivery system, it's good to keep all three wires firmly in place--at all times. If one comes loose and loses power, so does the novel.Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-85512644342149964132013-09-16T14:15:00.000-05:002013-09-16T14:16:52.216-05:00TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've learned that the research notes I accumulate while writing a historical novel can often lead me astray. I can get so immersed in the fascinating facts I'm uncovering that I forget my purpose--to write a piece of historical fiction that will carry young readers to a different time and place where they'll follow a likeable, interesting character as s/he faces difficulties and solves a problem.<br />
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Two weeks ago I was working on a chapter of a new book set during World War I. It takes place in Kansas City and focuses on life on the Hone Front of the war. I had discovered a government leaflet about making a fireless cooker, the 1918 version of today's Crockpot. The main character's mother is continually thinking up projects to keep him busy and out of trouble, so making the cooker seemed like a gift from the research gods. I could show that the need to preserve energy and cook nutritiously was prevalent nearly a century ago.<br />
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The government's directions were detailed and precise. Too much so. My character and his buddy got so involved in the materials needed and the steps to construct the cooker that I lost track of my story. It turned into a massive info dump without adding anything to the plot and without revealing anything new about the characters. Three paragraphs of lists and instructions.<br />
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"Whoa!" was the unspoken but clear sentiment of my critique group. Did they really need to know all this? No. Did they find it interesting? A bit. Did they think I should deeply cut it? YES!<br />
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So I did and ended with three short sentences of dialogue that indicated what the cooker was for and that it was way too complicated for two 12-year-old boys to actually build. I was able to get across the government's purpose in promoting it during wartime.<br />
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I've always had this problem with research. I fall in love with every little detail, which leads me to another set of details and then to another and so on. I usually end up far afield from where I started, but fascinated by what I find in the process. I need to learn when to hold and when to fold when it comes to historical research so that I'll have a winning hand when I sit down to write! </div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-32351125336729403872013-08-26T13:19:00.001-05:002013-08-26T13:22:51.514-05:00THE WRITING GENEThis summer I came across a file of family mementoes that included two tributes my father had written to honor fellow workers at their retirement parties. His job was hard manual labor--working to maintain the turbines that supply electric power to our area. The men he worked with over the years had a special camaraderie heavily seasoned with "powerhouse" humor. Both show through in my father's writing as he sent two friends off into the world of retirement.<br />
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I reflected, as I read his words, that people who didn't know my dad would have been surprised to learn that he read a lot. I remember complete sets of Rudyard Kipling and Mark Twain on our bookshelves, alongside the encyclopedia set that played a big part in our dinner table discussions. Those same folks would never have suspected that my father had a flair for composition. In those two tributes, he managed to honor the personality and character of each man and also point out their foibles with gentle humor.<br />
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Over the past weekend, I discovered a delicious piece of writing by my mother. Although she graduated high school with a scholarship to a local college, she couldn't afford to buy the textbooks and so didn't use the scholarship. Years later, when her children were mostly grown, she enrolled in another local college and began taking night classes. For one of her English classes, she wrote a humorous essay titled, "Food for Thought." It makes clear that eating out with six children is an adventure full of surprises.<br />
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So, both my parents had a way with words. Maybe there <u>is</u> a writing gene. My five siblings and I have inherited it in different ways. Some of us are eloquent speakers (not me!) and some lean toward the written expression of how we feel or what we believe. Like my parents, we all love to tell a good story--and none of us are above embellishing it a bit!Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-33345856487654451942013-08-15T20:24:00.000-05:002013-08-15T20:24:46.522-05:00SERENDIPITY PART TWO<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I recently posted something about serendipity and since then I've thought about how much it plays into things--at least for me. I have no idea what gave me the plan to introduce WHISPER ISLAND by having someone portray Primmy. Imagination? Inspiration? Probably both. But when I mentioned the idea to my friend Joyce and asked if she thought her granddaughter Deanna would be interested in a little acting gig on the Outer Banks, she jumped at it, as did her daughter Nancy, Joyce's sister Brenda, and the very talented young lady, Deanna.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfjL6fz-mZXWwp9k8v5vCPXiP99_laOkmidrVYMPT-gZu3QK0UCWyZDl9voXkvSkhHwi9OZnWWBJREZRzGSpcLyT8rEdsmeh7BPzswgqQTL-nGzfcR4H8rXp0pZxZTIoBcabGn_jqHEY/s1600/DSC_0040+39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfjL6fz-mZXWwp9k8v5vCPXiP99_laOkmidrVYMPT-gZu3QK0UCWyZDl9voXkvSkhHwi9OZnWWBJREZRzGSpcLyT8rEdsmeh7BPzswgqQTL-nGzfcR4H8rXp0pZxZTIoBcabGn_jqHEY/s200/DSC_0040+39.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Primmy and I enjoy a good laugh.</td></tr>
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They were all on board and laid plans to meet in Rodanthe for the book's official launch on July 10. What a week we had! Deanna, besides being a poet, singer, musician, artist, is also a very convincing actress. She put across the character and voice of Primmy, the main character. More than that, she answered questions as if she were the character and made it clear that she'd read the book and understood it.<br />
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I'm so fortunate to have had her innumerable talents in North Carolina and again for two signings in Kansas City. I look forward to more outings with Primmy--and to more visits from my Serendipity muse!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ7aiW8D8RXUS5zXJCMkiKRvf-a0Lu1h2Sgx16oElo5rGYgLNn_-EdZKCmFCpicE1cQDm70tRl1u7qH4ioKK1b6XBcW-vxuN_7wSWdEHzbzgo-_etkkavuJALUmwnDxabyPj0A4gWbDi4/s1600/DSC_0036+35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ7aiW8D8RXUS5zXJCMkiKRvf-a0Lu1h2Sgx16oElo5rGYgLNn_-EdZKCmFCpicE1cQDm70tRl1u7qH4ioKK1b6XBcW-vxuN_7wSWdEHzbzgo-_etkkavuJALUmwnDxabyPj0A4gWbDi4/s320/DSC_0036+35.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No, you can't be a Life-Saver. It's too hard for a girl.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Drat!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjMwxKgeZpsNnJqEp47ivLBpFnD5wtKE7w-B7Gfc8yZX9Tuo3g_y1s0V5Z73zPiqsvZbclcBsIWEXcTTFeAMPG5nxlBtkxg-Zig98gfki68dr4QOR0W1fnXbcdqPkqAFwqjQFoLd9ee8/s1600/Primmy+and+friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjMwxKgeZpsNnJqEp47ivLBpFnD5wtKE7w-B7Gfc8yZX9Tuo3g_y1s0V5Z73zPiqsvZbclcBsIWEXcTTFeAMPG5nxlBtkxg-Zig98gfki68dr4QOR0W1fnXbcdqPkqAFwqjQFoLd9ee8/s200/Primmy+and+friends.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Primmy and her new friend on the Outer Banks.</td></tr>
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-46608291781199938292013-08-06T14:17:00.000-05:002013-08-06T14:19:55.180-05:00TRAVEL SIGNS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A friend of mine recently returned from a trip to England and was sharing some photos from the trip. Many of them were signs she'd seen along the way, and we teased her about her choice of significant photo ops.<br />
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I've rethought that. After my trip to the Outer Banks to launch WHISPER ISLAND, I looked over my photos and found that I'd captured several pics of signs that had caught my attention. They all seem to capture the spirit and ambience of the place where I shot them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfGMY3_5CxO6MxKS1_aKleAgO-Q9tH0l568_9iSy7rVHh1-SL9IN5vn72QZeqjQ7shc-oXR6rqNkzkaXDAcikzjPS1jZrJ6kWlT01bp9bwgQmQ_-1nn9nL1Be1voG1w95An0vpLfP4EM/s1600/drive+slow+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfGMY3_5CxO6MxKS1_aKleAgO-Q9tH0l568_9iSy7rVHh1-SL9IN5vn72QZeqjQ7shc-oXR6rqNkzkaXDAcikzjPS1jZrJ6kWlT01bp9bwgQmQ_-1nn9nL1Be1voG1w95An0vpLfP4EM/s320/drive+slow+sign.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocracoke is a small island, but the main road gets lots of traffic.<br />
This sign reminds folks to be extra careful as they pass through.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcSjlIAIHAI8MJ-IQy8bCig2qTT9ZlnHfTEaXmfFBUh4r5yljxxmx5loiy2sd8tCiDSspGYUFPMGEx4mimehzROzTFhR-3FBBD9s2Fnr2Viam1KM_-SnYIo7ajfcuM8eqlGStER37lqc/s1600/jolly+roger+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcSjlIAIHAI8MJ-IQy8bCig2qTT9ZlnHfTEaXmfFBUh4r5yljxxmx5loiy2sd8tCiDSspGYUFPMGEx4mimehzROzTFhR-3FBBD9s2Fnr2Viam1KM_-SnYIo7ajfcuM8eqlGStER37lqc/s640/jolly+roger+sign.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch at water's edge at the Jolly Roger in Ocracoke was fun--until the storm set in. Maybe the pirate on the sign knew something that we didn't.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtylVPkjpdZ-wljUpdM7nAgPmrpxffQ_9_jeq7GqYJ9uK0vfgp95Hig62KtpKIVrgE6qB060x3fooXHBcA6jpC-cJmJRDMvAj5D5T_N75LRFjhZnnlmF1qzIWU0PvM2ukwdxIqepN6zbY/s1600/DSCN1420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtylVPkjpdZ-wljUpdM7nAgPmrpxffQ_9_jeq7GqYJ9uK0vfgp95Hig62KtpKIVrgE6qB060x3fooXHBcA6jpC-cJmJRDMvAj5D5T_N75LRFjhZnnlmF1qzIWU0PvM2ukwdxIqepN6zbY/s320/DSCN1420.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you didn't get the message, this gull made sure you kept your casting low.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGxKYcJqQpecESLKxQUjVdB_8wX4dNkoVmysG6_uz9Dn5DcCqzwVdUUi5p4ULOxreGTb9OLuJdwzlIc-VVhg5P4QRAXzSeN6tkq2wPMOtsqqy60VNJG2joT097vBnRtPSWlsgykvRBT4/s1600/shark+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGxKYcJqQpecESLKxQUjVdB_8wX4dNkoVmysG6_uz9Dn5DcCqzwVdUUi5p4ULOxreGTb9OLuJdwzlIc-VVhg5P4QRAXzSeN6tkq2wPMOtsqqy60VNJG2joT097vBnRtPSWlsgykvRBT4/s320/shark+sign.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parents at the Gulf Coast Cafe get fair warning to mind their kids.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HFM3I6ykXk8ndJqpqvviodO3otZUvlvV8ZHIHNQlsP7I9N-n-Ih8Iha9z9zssSzsPgSP6Wp__yt-ziu-kBRyQ8chwolOFfcq_pkMtWSryqwoRdWH8kw1H2kDDMjn4xgHkMFOojhs8aY/s1600/cottage+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HFM3I6ykXk8ndJqpqvviodO3otZUvlvV8ZHIHNQlsP7I9N-n-Ih8Iha9z9zssSzsPgSP6Wp__yt-ziu-kBRyQ8chwolOFfcq_pkMtWSryqwoRdWH8kw1H2kDDMjn4xgHkMFOojhs8aY/s640/cottage+sign.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sign by the front door of our little cottage-by-the-ocean says it all!</td></tr>
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Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-42297027231543424292013-07-30T14:28:00.000-05:002013-08-07T04:16:42.934-05:00SERENDIPITYAs a writer, I've learned to be on the lookout for those serendipitous signs that might lead me to a new book idea or unstick me from a plot point I've gotten hung up on. It might come in a bit of a overheard conversation. I might come across an article or photograph that meshes with what I'm writing--or planning to write. Sometimes a dream--mine or someone else's--connects.<br />
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I know along the way I’ve missed some of those signs. Often I’ve neglected to make a written note about them, sure that I'd remember. Years ago, that might have worked, but now I'm less and less skillful at recalling even the most significant markers of my day.<br />
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For some reason unclear to me, I've begun to think more and more about a sequel for <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-Island-Anola-Pickett/dp/146211167X" target="_blank">WHISPER ISLAND</a>. It might be because I've become attached to Primmy and her independent character. I want to see where her free spirit takes her. At the same time, I've learned more and more about a dramatic, heroic rescue of the British tanker Mirlo off the shores of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rodanthe,_North_Carolina" target="_blank">Rodanthe</a> during World War I.<br />
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I'm now in the middle of a historical novel set in Kansas City during that "war to end all wars."<br />
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Serendipity has struck again! I've already done a lot of research about the war and I now know--and love--much of the history of the Outer Banks and ocean rescues. My research efforts could mesh in a sequel about Primmy six years after WHISPER ISLAND's story. I knew that she still would be kept from joining the Coast Guard (formerly the <a href="http://www.uslife-savingservice.org/" target="_blank">US Life-Saving Service</a>), but I need to get her to Rodanthe as a seventeen-year-old young woman. What could she do for a living? What profession do I know most about? Teaching. Hard to imagine feisty Primmy as a schoolmarm, but I think she'd be spectacular!
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oz4jDywbTXcXg2I-5tb0L21w5sWrkew5I7OTQ_R-Wjdt1FGk2db7OdVqACHW5yOelhQIS-h6nM4Zju754ZO4OTYn2SRtMjkNm1lR1NOIThDR5TdubJKU1MWQgFVCXsjA2Etf3gH_uz8/s1600/James+Charlet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oz4jDywbTXcXg2I-5tb0L21w5sWrkew5I7OTQ_R-Wjdt1FGk2db7OdVqACHW5yOelhQIS-h6nM4Zju754ZO4OTYn2SRtMjkNm1lR1NOIThDR5TdubJKU1MWQgFVCXsjA2Etf3gH_uz8/s1600/James+Charlet.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's right across the road, Anola."</td></tr>
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When I mentioned this idea to James Charlet, "keeper" of the <a href="http://www.chicamacomico.net/" target="_blank">Chicamacomico Life-Saving Historic Site</a>, he pointed across the road. "That's the schoolhouse that would have been here in 1918." The building has been added to to create a community hall, but the central structure remains.<br />
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A sure sign that Primmy's story will continue!
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-73341667156730965192013-07-24T21:33:00.000-05:002013-07-25T23:50:14.517-05:00Strolling Along Social Media Street<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've learned over the years that writing a book is a play in three acts.<br />
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The curtain goes up on Act One, the birth of an idea that grows and develops in several scenes as the plot unfolds and characters enter and exit.<br />
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Act Two involves multiple scenes: writing, revising, rewriting, revising, editing, submitting, acceptance (eventually) and publication (finally).<br />
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Act Three may seem anti-climactic because the book is done, but for me that last act has been the most difficult. I've resisted the demands on my time and energy. I wanted to get on with my writing; the next book had already taken shape in my imagination and I longed to get it going. I've resisted jumping into the social media scene, but now I know I need to learn it all so I can give my latest book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-Island-Anola-Pickett/dp/146211167X" target="_blank">WHISPER ISLAND</a>, a good send-off. I've come to realize that, if a book was important enough to work on for several months, it deserves my efforts to get it before the public eye.<br />
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When I planned the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-Island-Anola-Pickett/dp/146211167X" target="_blank">WHISPER ISLAND</a> launch at the <a href="http://www.chicamacomico.net/" target="_blank">Chicamacomico Life-Saving Historic Site</a> in Rodanthe, NC, I knew that just traveling there and signing books wouldn't be enough to give my book the debut it deserved.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCdm0dVsuO4Lc2Rr5sk02kTQh_XI0aHzOFqfDtbwdpEX_7qrGdhgxYRRD-2NJDJI7bZIjFdSd-bAnyWC1Kp-pVotsY9vtHeazsJqN8flQpoO47E_2ZICRns5OBIJqLQTg6BfsCH_HlTs/s1600/DSCN2933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCdm0dVsuO4Lc2Rr5sk02kTQh_XI0aHzOFqfDtbwdpEX_7qrGdhgxYRRD-2NJDJI7bZIjFdSd-bAnyWC1Kp-pVotsY9vtHeazsJqN8flQpoO47E_2ZICRns5OBIJqLQTg6BfsCH_HlTs/s320/DSCN2933.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rodanthe Beach,Outer Banks, North Carolina--another great place to stroll!</td></tr>
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So several weeks before the launch I took some baby steps onto Social Media Street. Now I stroll along slowly but surely. I'm on <a href="http://twitter.com/anolamarie" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and <a href="http://pinterest.com/anolapickett/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AnolaPickettBooks" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.linkedin.com/pub/anola-pickett/33/99/b50" target="_blank">LinkedIn</a>. I own a smart phone. I tweet and pin and post. I have circles and pages. I've learned how to link and like.<br />
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And you know what? After the initial stress of learning something new, I'm beginning to enjoy it. I have a long way to go, but I'm getting there.</div>
Anola Picketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727186162271368384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-23958645850345288292013-07-13T16:00:00.000-05:002013-09-22T01:22:18.538-05:00Welcome to Whisper Island!<div>
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-Island-Anola-Pickett/dp/146211167X" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Whisper Island" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRd-re1KY3gA9S7_7Wg2VX2LYyfBPzrSt0Tk-Fya9WigR2BCS7ikz8yBw-EVngd5N8NYDUHIiqT7RezYjoZKtvinbAF87DugNXlObdZ_R99-lPovnq9t9Fl42asHjSojd-QZaDWrNL_jS8/s1600/whisperisland-cov.jpg" title="Whisper Island" /></a>Last week, Peter and I drove to the beautiful Outer Banks in North Carolina for the launch of my new historical novel for young readers, <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whisper-Island-Anola-Pickett/dp/146211167X" target="_blank">Whisper Island</a></em>.<br />
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On July 10, the <a href="http://www.chicamacomico.net/" target="_blank">Chicamacomico Life-Saving Station</a> -- the site that inspired the story of Primmy and her quest to serve in the <a href="http://www.uslife-savingservice.org/" target="_blank">U.S. Life-Saving Service</a> (a precursor to the U.S. Coast Guard) -- hosted a delightful book launch. The young readers of Rodanthe were among the first to purchase <i>Whisper Island</i>, and I had a great time signing their copies of the book! The launch party also included games for the kids and live demonstrations of the life-saving equipment at the museum by the U.S. Coast Guard.<br />
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This marks the start of a summer full of readings, book signings and other events to promote my new book. Stay tuned for updates! In the meantime, here are a few highlights from our time in North Carolina:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr valign="top"><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5R-PGSzCBCtVd0TJxdVn6E7orT9_qo5JVJYsbnCuCHjHWbVeAne0B-8YG6nf1QKpnK25X7UVrkBAPy_uk4zuylwz9bgKNt_zbq0Hv4qchAVdTAUIYOqrqaU38qwfvgIpqym9AGuLoyuM/s1600/chicacomico.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5R-PGSzCBCtVd0TJxdVn6E7orT9_qo5JVJYsbnCuCHjHWbVeAne0B-8YG6nf1QKpnK25X7UVrkBAPy_uk4zuylwz9bgKNt_zbq0Hv4qchAVdTAUIYOqrqaU38qwfvgIpqym9AGuLoyuM/s1600/chicacomico.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr valign="top"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 10px/normal Spinnaker, sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">The launch event was held at the Chicamacomico Life-Saving Station, North Carolina</span></td></tr>
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<nobr><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHhxh7e-MBSn23CRJqZS-6Sk1zE4AF_gHWlSmwOamzuYScQapVUhRgWEBsFS8GQzn_6irSsSByYTlbCOB3HiT2r_NdyYcscZys20dBL0p1rzHwYVlazu9mBUioyfg6G9rJ72RdmqjJhWxu/s1600/booksigning-nc1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHhxh7e-MBSn23CRJqZS-6Sk1zE4AF_gHWlSmwOamzuYScQapVUhRgWEBsFS8GQzn_6irSsSByYTlbCOB3HiT2r_NdyYcscZys20dBL0p1rzHwYVlazu9mBUioyfg6G9rJ72RdmqjJhWxu/s1600/booksigning-nc1.jpeg" height="271" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGohxZ4oxxrb4udyrabnNtIsDiB7hTZQAnbKU244qvk2X8wFcfaIr3swAuTecdzK9ahwzcc1R9V2k0D2mbKXVRpRcHBFijUGoDnumQmDx4h_y8XbXJ_u82016CONFg6uvwfRgIVXmLMv9A/s1600/booksigning-nc2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGohxZ4oxxrb4udyrabnNtIsDiB7hTZQAnbKU244qvk2X8wFcfaIr3swAuTecdzK9ahwzcc1R9V2k0D2mbKXVRpRcHBFijUGoDnumQmDx4h_y8XbXJ_u82016CONFg6uvwfRgIVXmLMv9A/s1600/booksigning-nc2.jpeg" height="271" width="235" /></a></nobr></td></tr>
<tr valign="top"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 10px/normal Spinnaker, sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Signing books for the first young readers to buy <i>Whisper Island</i></span></td></tr>
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<nobr><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6humxVlopeQbmG4TVnBbP-tNYl-nZ-A1O_Ay1MWzsdJl8OAQrtpUonfwJsEOsUK2AhYVqQdHA7-W8JxC2MQNdf6ssgEnj_swu8aiNYJxUfFcYF1n0wjMmOJ0GrORUNh_G4yYnTekzqdhY/s1600/life-savers.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6humxVlopeQbmG4TVnBbP-tNYl-nZ-A1O_Ay1MWzsdJl8OAQrtpUonfwJsEOsUK2AhYVqQdHA7-W8JxC2MQNdf6ssgEnj_swu8aiNYJxUfFcYF1n0wjMmOJ0GrORUNh_G4yYnTekzqdhY/s1600/life-savers.png" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-kon-VBFZexzBlZO5ShUVo4GxDNB_j0bUn_5emLD81DlZyzcbIzj1HMo8Ysqb33v7Sbl7A4nxr6P5s8vhDcsF5t-3uPhKi1l6bZ4Mug21aPStHvwnD4fCWOllgmspnBlQgrsw2IfUqA9/s1600/myrnamidgettpeters.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-kon-VBFZexzBlZO5ShUVo4GxDNB_j0bUn_5emLD81DlZyzcbIzj1HMo8Ysqb33v7Sbl7A4nxr6P5s8vhDcsF5t-3uPhKi1l6bZ4Mug21aPStHvwnD4fCWOllgmspnBlQgrsw2IfUqA9/s1600/myrnamidgettpeters.png" /></a></nobr></td></tr>
<tr valign="top"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 10px/normal Spinnaker, sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">The Coast Guard demonstrates a Life-Saving drill of long ago (left);<br />I was thrilled to meet Myrna Midgett Peters, whose ancestors were Life-Savers (right)</span></td></tr>
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Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-6492746102365224982013-04-09T09:09:00.000-05:002013-07-24T09:10:50.289-05:00Spring Surprise<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis58SkzQLHrNKqIiqd1C-QaCi8gwtVTA7_q7tchwis51pa5em9YA80-Mj6PzAJIncxeWRt6UvsnybNLHgm6YQUK6dIAIBj4pifQ-Ljvt5Jm53pk7-MLeVm4USsoHg6Bon6zsN3Wv3Du_Ap/s1600/springsurprise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis58SkzQLHrNKqIiqd1C-QaCi8gwtVTA7_q7tchwis51pa5em9YA80-Mj6PzAJIncxeWRt6UvsnybNLHgm6YQUK6dIAIBj4pifQ-Ljvt5Jm53pk7-MLeVm4USsoHg6Bon6zsN3Wv3Du_Ap/s1600/springsurprise.jpg" /></a>A spring surprise--While looking through our gardening storage areas, many and scattered, I came across a planter with two green sprouts emerging from the soil. I struggled to remember what might have been planted there and decided it was either a long-forgotten amaryllis or a long dear mother-in-law's tongue. Why I considered the second option is beyond me at this point and at any rate, it was faulty thinking on my part. The shoots were, indeed, from what I had thought was a defunct amaryllis. It had been so long since it had appeared that I couldn't remember the color. I put it on the deck and wished it luck, as I do most of my plants, knowing that they're pretty much on their own once they go outside. This morning I woke to glorious white blossoms, soon followed by several more.<br /><br />I'm hoping that, like my amaryllis, a few months of hibernation from blog-writing will now become a beautiful blossoming of words and thoughts, embellished with graphics and photos. No, I'm not just hoping, I'm determined!Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-53365573854549742382012-03-22T09:06:00.000-05:002013-07-24T09:07:34.059-05:00Moving DayI've moved! I'm now working in our basement laundry room, in my own little corner. It's taken me two months, but I've finally moved books, files, desk, laptop, printer and research material to this little corner. I'm right next to a window that looks into our backyard, and this afternoon I watched a feral mama cat nurse her two little kittens right outside my window. Chipmunks drop by for a drink from the planter saucer I keep on the patio for them; squirrels and birds eat and chase each other; and Ella, the hound next door, desperately tries to get at them from her side of the fence. Wonderful distractions for the creative spirit and much better than the upstairs distractions of dust and dinner and doorbells and the general demands of a household. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrFQcvC0RMsPzEvLRLw126p2P_bAQNyhkt2HRxKCOno4vHDA2efTMislURQFhQnACuwJjCfk-KC-nlIe-hXGPyOZAiOHNhDEVyBCbFVxTEO6jD4lIXRFSLBn-XQMKch4KXvhPRvt3XOGX/s1600/office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrFQcvC0RMsPzEvLRLw126p2P_bAQNyhkt2HRxKCOno4vHDA2efTMislURQFhQnACuwJjCfk-KC-nlIe-hXGPyOZAiOHNhDEVyBCbFVxTEO6jD4lIXRFSLBn-XQMKch4KXvhPRvt3XOGX/s1600/office.jpg" /></a><br />Now, to get some writing and networking done down here. I'm ready!Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-19018813680482384162011-10-05T07:49:00.000-05:002013-07-24T06:52:27.449-05:00Writing the Novel<div>
<em>"If you try to nail anything down, in the novel, either it kills the novel, </em><br />
<em>or the novel gets up and walks away with the nail."</em>--D.H. Lawrence</div>
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I ran across this quote the other day and found it interesting--even intriguing. Since first reading it, I've been thinking about the nail it refers to. Have I been trying to nail something down in the novel I'm working on? Have I been forcing characters to do and/or say something they're not comfortable with? Have I been moving the plot in a direction it simply doesn't want to go? It's true I can't force characters or plot onto a path that suits me if that direction isn't true to the story. It's so easy to forget that when I'm in the midst of writing. <br />
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So I'm grateful every time a character steps up to tell me that he or she simply won't do what I want--or when a new character appears from nowhere and pushes me in a different direction. I'll always try to pay attention, for fear the whole thing will get up and walk away with the nail I'm trying to force into place.</div>
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I've never been good with a hammer and nail!</div>
Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-49706879590303151832011-09-16T14:00:00.000-05:002013-07-24T09:02:21.489-05:00Serendipity<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif35fWUgrCDuMjBH7_4BHZ64L-KwFx6nWXq-dnVxy12e5LjO-Ql-QVmoZT-uBTdIFKcXnxoCGqC2Skztm7kPtYViFX8vVgqwCpPkfi9xVHvDf_veZ65yJ7ocPok713zUwS33p7Vc-z5X2w/s1600/DSCN2250.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653038261502852962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif35fWUgrCDuMjBH7_4BHZ64L-KwFx6nWXq-dnVxy12e5LjO-Ql-QVmoZT-uBTdIFKcXnxoCGqC2Skztm7kPtYViFX8vVgqwCpPkfi9xVHvDf_veZ65yJ7ocPok713zUwS33p7Vc-z5X2w/s400/DSCN2250.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="400" /></a><br />
I've always a great respect for the phenomenon of serendipity. When things happen in a coincidental way, connecting two things or ideas, it's mystical to me.</div>
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Recently on a trip to the Upper Peninsula in Michigan, Peter and I drove to Whitefish Point on Lake Superior. We'd wanted to see that lake and its gorgeous turquoise waters. We'd heard that the beach was beautiful.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg913IwqQqEfXVTMNBNMBX9OP7s4xb8B0qni0X4bW4RYoioNna8inufYMp17rl75PUT6UMLnwmRfEKGM1HFCpSMsan1U1M3kQmBWk7-NVqD5KMQq2zZzTinSaJTZAeAm4nAW7zNbgqf5npX/s1600/DSCN2246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653039144997495874" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg913IwqQqEfXVTMNBNMBX9OP7s4xb8B0qni0X4bW4RYoioNna8inufYMp17rl75PUT6UMLnwmRfEKGM1HFCpSMsan1U1M3kQmBWk7-NVqD5KMQq2zZzTinSaJTZAeAm4nAW7zNbgqf5npX/s400/DSCN2246.JPG" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="400" /></a><br />
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The Shipwreck Museum there is devoted to the history of the many wrecks that occur along that stretch of coast, the most famous being the Edmund Fitzgerald. It was interesting to see the bits (some of the giant bits) and pieces of ships that didn't make it to their destination. After touring the museum and viewing a film about the Fitzgerald's sad end and the memorial built in honor of the captain and crew, we strolled over to the replica of a Life Saving Station, where I took some photos of the equipment and gear used by the original Life Savers. </div>
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Great stuff for background for the historical novel I'm working on. It's about a young girl in 1913 who wants to be a Life Saver like her father and brother. At that time, only males could do that work. </div>
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Here's the serendipity part: On our way to the car, I spotted a gift shop and took a quick spin through it. On my way out, I spied a glittery object on a display table. A second look showed the glitter to be a replica of the medals used by the surfmen on their nightly patrols to meet their counterpart from the neighboring station. I'd read about these, but it was a thrill to actually see one--and to be able to buy it and bring it home for inspiration! It now hangs over my laptop.<br />
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As Peter often says, it doesn't take much to make me happy!</div>
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Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-60743245267438920692011-09-09T14:43:00.000-05:002013-07-24T07:12:59.541-05:00Tao and the Creative ProcessI read this other day in my book of Tao meditations:<br />
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••••••••••••••••••••••••</div>
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An ocean of ink in a single drop,</div>
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Trembling at the tip of my brush,</div>
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Poised above stark white paper,</div>
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A universe waits for existence.</div>
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<o:p> ••••••••••••••••••••••••</o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p> </div>
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<o:p>It no doubt refers to the act of creating visual art, but it seems to fit the writer's life as well. It's awing to realize that a universe is waiting for existence while the writer hesitates to begin her work. Or that an ocean of ink is held in a single drop (or an ocean of words in a single touch on the keyboard). The point of the meditation that followed those words stresses the importance of having reverence for one's work, for treating it with esteem.</o:p><br />
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This thought gives me pause. Do I have reverence or esteem for my work as I'm putting words down? Too often I get fed up with my efforts and long to hit the delete button. Maybe if I began with a more respectful feeling for what I'm writing things would flow more and I'd be happier with what I create. Certainly worth a try. I manage to respect other writer's work. Perhaps I should treat my own words with the same esteem--before I even start out. As the saying goes: Wouldn't hurt. Might help.</div>
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Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-82032622362023118022011-08-10T21:02:00.000-05:002011-08-10T21:12:44.049-05:00Flora and FaunaThe first time I read the phrase, "flora and fauna," it took me a while to realize that this simply meant the plants and wildlife of a given area. (I was a kid at the time.)<div>
<br /></div><div>This summer has given me a whole new perspective on those two "f" words. Normally I concentrate on the flora part of my backyard area. Things starts out just fine. In May and June we enjoyed lettuce and other salad greens. Then, in July, the weather turned so dismal that I've been hard pressed to harvest more than three tiny tomatoes, some okra. Vegetation does not do well in desert conditions. Just ask my son and his wife who live in Abu Dhabi. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>On the fauna side of things, the wildlife passing through our territory has flourished. We've been visited by foxes that came right up our deck to peer in the dining room as we had breakfast. They became daily visitors, and I learned yesterday that a neighbor has been feeding them because they "looked so forlorn." We've become used to raccoons and, of course, squirrels and have even spotted a bedraggled coyote one morning. Yesterday a Cooper's hawk posed on the edge of the birdbath, apparently hoping that the smaller birds would think he was a decorative sculpture and came by to take a drink or bath while he looked on--and then dined on. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Despite the heat and drought, the wildlife has done well by us. All in all, the flora has, much like the Royals, lost more games than they've won. And, like the Royals, I say, "Just wait until next year!"</div>Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-5898624230557583332011-05-23T17:29:00.000-05:002011-05-23T17:38:36.459-05:00PerspectiveLast Friday they were predicting 100% chance of thunderstorms from afternoon through the evening. I was scheduled to launch my new book WASATCH SUMMER at our local, wonderful children's bookstore, Reading Reptile. The weather forecast threatened to squash my hopes for a big turnout of friends and family, some of whom would be traveling from distant suburbs. As it turned out, it rained a bit in the early afternoon and then the sun came out and the turnout was terrific!<div><br /><div>Two days later, almost to the minute, a violent series of tornadoes hit Joplin, about two hours south of KC. At this point, 116 are dead, at least 30% of the city is flattened, and the photos look like a war zone. All of which makes my worry about a thunderstorm disturbing my little world seem very petty. It also spurs me to do what I can to help--a donation to Heart to Heart and lots of prayers for the victims, those who have lost not just property but loved ones, and for the rescue and medical people who have been working nonstop. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div></div>Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570303023437210988.post-85723711671452154272011-03-20T15:25:00.000-05:002011-03-20T15:51:28.429-05:00The Life Skills of Squirrels<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>When I was teaching, our team did a lot of work on Life Skills such as patience, perseverance, flexibility, creativity, and integrity. All of this comes in handy for a writer. The creativity, of course, starts everything going, but the other skills play an important part once the writing is done. It takes patience to search out the right markets, agents, editors. Perseverance means never giving up that marketing search, no matter how many rejections come. Once a writer's work is accepted, she must be flexible about changes that are often requested, but not so flexible as to feel that the integrity of the work and of the writer is being compromised. I'm glad I persevered to finish WASATCH SUMMER and find a home for it and flexible enough to change the title (originally HANNAH"S LEAP).<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>However, my life skill practice is minimal compared to a young squirrel who's been studying two bird feeders on our deck. He made many attempts to go from the cylindrical peanut feeder to the cattail feeder that holds sunflower hearts. Both of the feeders were nearly empty by the time he figured it out, but he persevered to the end.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6-0hgD9PNWMvU-FWBfbJx1u1RPoO2iDrCtZGQVTR0afJw0B8moR1OHLq1QPAwN9rCxPvMSMU_RR7Fhcrpn7Ap7J-Yk8dB_gI79nzqfRS58iYT9gxKGvVa2SeIBxyJp7hsT3eVVZiNayE/s1600/DSCN2095.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6-0hgD9PNWMvU-FWBfbJx1u1RPoO2iDrCtZGQVTR0afJw0B8moR1OHLq1QPAwN9rCxPvMSMU_RR7Fhcrpn7Ap7J-Yk8dB_gI79nzqfRS58iYT9gxKGvVa2SeIBxyJp7hsT3eVVZiNayE/s200/DSCN2095.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586263535107598002" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7Sz7fp0jzOJfM1_gBGF7MsLrHiUPFURf7JRIVww_1DZoWfO6yXFt5HwXXPmT209yL_elZZhf1W4XRMl2aD48qmcDTLditoCYUgbT_RYaLTKamukAMNVvp-SHixynIQ5R2dmVfhtarvF8/s200/DSCN2096.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586264450931540082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kZQzKPJpv9Vcloou4memidW0yLor3FJwbXjQTiYnekxCYuMv5qpsR_0UQxR7oybL2364aHYbMDU1qyzZvEHoutlq1SuYMGLD6SKl1JqMrUHmI7cCL6Q0PlK7hJ3fYuGuuDbqmQHm8gtz/s200/DSCN2097.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586265068027380258" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></span></span></div></span></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:15.6px;"><br /></span></span></div>Anolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00256457957291847849noreply@blogger.com1