Flora and Fauna

The 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.)

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.

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.

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!"

Perspective

Last 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!

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.

The Life Skills of Squirrels

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).

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.

In my Own Backyard

In my soon-to-be-published historical novel for kids, WASATCH SUMMER, Hannah receives two turkey wings for her birthday. One is a gift from her Blackfeet friends, who tell her they use the wings as fans in hot weather. The second wing is from her mother, who uses them as a dusting tool.

Anticipating school visit requests, I've been looking for a turkey wing to use for show and tell when I speak to classes about the book. I've asked people I know who hunt or who know someone who hunts--but with no success. Monday, fiddling around on my laptop I typed "turkey wings" into the Google window and up popped several sources for intact feathered wings. The first site showed a gorgeous object, suitable for smudging. It cost $185. I gulped and went on down the list.

I came to a listing for Custom Feathers, which offered a variety of wings, feather sizes, and prices. I found one that sounded right and was reasonably priced. So I clicked away and put in my order.

Tuesday afternoon i heard the mailbox creak as it does when its lid is lifted. Normal sounds for mail delivery. But then the doorbell chimed--not normal. I found the largest Priority Mail envelope somehow managing to remain upright in our tiny mail receptacle. Inside was a beautiful turkey wing.

Amazed at the one-day delivery, I checked the return address. Custom Feathers is in Chillicothe, MO--a few counties away from Kansas City. I had found just what I was looking for--right in my own backyard.

Something to think about. How many other things, people, ideas have I roamed far and wide in search of, only to find them close to home?

Winter storms

A little less than a year ago, we were in Egypt, enjoying balmy weather and friendly hospitality from the people there. Now we're snowed in, watching the news about the demonstrations in the northern cities. We're not surprised because it was clear that there is much poverty and unemployment in that country and that the ruling government is not popular with the people. I hope that their struggle brings about positive, productive change.

While the Egyptians storm with righteous rage, the elements storm here in the Midwest--and across most of the country. Anxious birds attack our feeders in a frenzy, looking for survival--just as the people on the streets of Cairo are.