Endearing story about a Horse, a Man and his Daughter

A Daughter’s Remembrance

By Marcia A. Hancock

Illustrations by Jason Nocera

Author Marcia A. Hancock writes a charming, warmhearted story dedicated to the memories of her father and a remarkable horse named Snoops. The story begins at the end of her father's life and flashes back to reminiscences of the relationships between herself, her father and Snoops; who seems more human than horse. The Tobiano-paint rescue horse enters their lives when both the horse and the father are in bad shape and aging.

It is love at first sight for the horse and the man — they seem to share a secret understanding of each other and are in separable. High-energy feed strengthens Snoops even as the presence of this much loved animal improves the physical and emotional health of the man who adores him. For the first time in their lives Marcia and her father develop a close relationship . . . All due to a horse named Snoops.

Author Hancock writes a sweet, poignant tale about how the love of a horse brings her closer to knowing her father. This is a children's book for ages three – seven, to be read aloud, and by older children as well, preteens, young adult and adults. This short story will be enjoyed by horse lovers and readers of all ages. The creative illustrations by Jason Nocera further enhance the story which is soon to be followed by stories of . . . more remembrances.

Micki Peluso: writer, journalist, and author of . . . And the Whippoorwill Sang

MOTHERHOOD--THE OLDEST PROFESSION

Motherhood — the Oldest Profession

By Micki Peluso

This Sunday mother's throughout the country will be honored in many and various ways. Toddlers and preschool children will cheerfully drag their mothers to their favorite fast food places and older children will escort them, with great decorum, to restaurants with actual dinnerware. The majority of children will serve their mothers breakfast in bed, a calamitous tradition that refuses to die. Adult children with children of their own will have greater reverence for their mothers, graced with understanding and empathy. Mothers will righteously accept the presents, cards, flowers and candy, and promises of exemplary behavior in the future. She has always and will continue to deserve the esteem bestowed upon her by her family on this one honored day of each year.

Motherhood, while fulfilling in ways too numerous to mention, has never been easy. Today it is even more difficult due to the diverse roles played by the 21th century mother. Some mothers are the sole support of the family; others work to supplement insufficient incomes, while many choose to balance a career with caretaking — all monumental achievements. Some households with dual incomes have learned to share the ongoing chores of home maintenance and child care, but it usually falls to the mother to be the primary nurturer, manager, coordinator and ‘gopher’. In spite of reports on ‘burnout’ among working mothers, and ‘latchkey’ kids left alone too much, many American women are proving themselves capable of being both mother and working woman, placing the emphasis on quality versus quantity time with their children.

However, a small percentage of women have elected to forgo their careers, reasoning that careers can be resumed, but childrearing is a onetime occupation. Due to the trend toward women bearing children later in life, some women have worked and established careers for 10 or 15 years before having children. The skills they’ve attained are often utilized in creating home enterprises and small businesses, allowing them time with their children.

Unlike Father's Day, which was erratic in its installment, Mother’s Day was accepted with enthusiasm. In May of 1907, Anna M. Jarvis of Philadelphia was inspired by the idea that at least once a year children should pay tribute to their mothers. She organized a special Mothers church service and the concept quickly spread to other churches. By 1911, the observance was widespread, including every state in the union, plus Canada, Mexico, South America, Africa, China, Japan and several islands. Leaflets proposing certain exercises were printed In 10 different languages and distributed to various countries. What the leaflets said in part was: “A day that has shown that it has heart and living interest for all classes, races, creeds, native and foreign-born, high and low, rich and poor, scoffer and churchmen, man, women and child, is Mother’s Day, observed on the second Sunday of May. The common possession of the living world is a mother . . . .”

A Mother's Day International Association was incorporated in December of 1912 to promote a greater observance of the day. The following May, the House of Representatives unanimously adopted a resolution calling upon all government officials to wear a white carnation in celebration of Mother's Day. In 1914, Congress designated Mother's Day as an official holiday and asked Pres. Woodrow Wilson to display the national flag on all public buildings. On May 9, the president issued a proclamation asking the people to follow suit and display flags on their homes as ‘a public expression of our love and reverence for the mothers of the country’. The wearing of white carnations on Mother's Day was modified to distinguish living mothers from those deceased. White flowers were worn by the motherless and red flowers by children with living mothers. Gift-giving by children became popular, especially homemade gifts and cards. One gift in great demand for Mother's Day was the reproduction of Whistler’s portrait of his mother, the most famous mother portrait of the times.

Ever since Eve rocked the cradle that begat civilization, mothers held an almost mystical place in society. Research shows that even the caveman, while chauvinistic to the nth degree, cherished and protected his mate, knowing instinctively that without her the clan would become extinct. The cavewoman was healer, food gatherer, herbalist and fur-skinner, as well as mother. The custom of holding festivals to honor motherhood dates back to the ancient Greeks who worshiped Cybele, mother of the gods. Rome adopted the tradition around 250 BC and celebrated the festival of Hilaria on the Ides of March. The festivities lasted three days and included rites in woods and caves, significantly different from modern celebrations.

Today's mother has exhibited proficiency in job skills, self-reliance, and creativity while continuing to supply the cohesive element that binds the family unit. Possibly the only thing that a mother cannot be is a father. On this Mother's Day, as children and fathers lavishly pile gifts and admiration upon her, the mother is reminded of the importance of her role. When beset with trials and stress that would devastate the average person, the mother does her job and does it well; because it is a most rewarding occupation with no mandatory retirement. The benefits of loving and molding young minds far outweigh the tribulations of guiding children from infancy to adulthood. Abraham Lincoln said it best: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my mother."

THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY

By Micki Peluso

May Day is usually, but not always, celebrated on the first of May, although in recent years enthusiasm for the holiday has waned considerably. Many Staten Islanders in New York can recall festivities in the past several decades which included springtime sports, and May Poles decorated with bright ribbons streaming from the top of the pole. Young children were traditionally garbbed the ribbons and danced around the pole, reveling in the warmth of spring. Older girls crowned a May Queen, and young girls often made baskets which they filled with flowers and hung on the doors of their friends. Many parts of the country still participate in these activities although my borough of Staten Island does not seem to be among them.

The month of May has always been a favorite month, with spring in full bloom and summer close behind. On the original Roman calendar, May was the third month of the year but the revised calendar moved it to the fifth month. The origin of the name, researchers say, most likely comes from Maia, a mother of Mercury. In Roman times and throughout history May has been considered an unlucky month for marriages, stemming back to the days when both the festival of the dead and the festival of the goddess of chastity were celebrated in May. This may explain the popularity of June weddings.

Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, New York, has held May Day celebrations with field sports, dancing around the May Poll and crowning a May Queen with a headdress of fresh flowers. On some occasions college records in sports were broken on that day, possibly due to the enthusiasm for the holiday. The California State Norma School in San José originated May Day festivities in 1902, with games for their kindergarten students. By 1910, the popularity of this holiday had grown to such proportion that 6000 spectators gathered to watch the celebration.

These observances have little to do with the ritualistic and symbolic fetes of olden days. Historians of folk customs have traced the May Day ritual back to the Floralia of the Romans, the festival of Flora, goddess of flowers. This festival was instituted in 238 BC and was celebrated from April 23 until May 3rd.

During the four or five centuries that Rome occupied Britain, the May Day Festival was introduced and flourished. One theory states that the May Day was initially a phallic festival in India and Egypt, marking the renewal of the fertility of nature at springtime. Researchers claim that the Romans considered the May Poll to be a phallic symbol, and their merrymaking included quite a few licentious acts which were the focus of May Day celebrations in England for some time.

The Morris Dance was a pagan dance which consisted of male dancers in fantastic costumes dancing about the May Poll. The name Morris, a word of Moorish origin, is associated with mummers, who acted out the ritual of the pagan god who celebrated his revival after death. Another custom was the May Day procession of a Man-horse, in Cornwall, where the central figure, "Oss Oss”, was a witch doctor disguised as a horse and wearing a mask. Dancers acted as attendants, sang May Day songs and beat on drums.

These activities greatly offended the Puritans, who coerced the Parliament of 1644 to ban the erection of May Polls. The Restoration repealed the prohibition, and in 1661, to celebrate the revival of the old custom, a May Poll, 134 feet high was raised. Sir Isaac Newton purchased the pole in 1717 and used it as a support for his telescope in Essex.

The New England Puritans also voiced objections to May Day festivities, which incited Gov. Endicott of Massachusetts in 1660, to lead a group of men to Merrymont, where the dreaded May Poll had been erected. The men chopped the pole down and named the place Mount Dragon, after the Idol of the Philistines that fell before the Ark.

May Day was said to have magical rites, such as those of Halloween. Samuel Pepys, the English diarist, related how his wife went to the country each May Day to wash her face in dew, a magic ritual ensuring a good complexion. Poetess Ann May Lawler, put the custom to verse: “Ever on the first of May did magic walk — the legends say. Maiden rose at early dawn to find a dew-ensequinned lawn, and she who humbly bathed her face in dewdrops, in the magic place, she, they say, may never fear the curse of freckles for one year."

When Labor Day was established in this country, the workers of Europe decided to hold a similar celebration, which they observed on May 1st. Due to lively labor politics, the date became better known for riots, bombings and burned cities. Radicals in the U.S. followed the European example and held demonstrations on May 1st. Later many U.S. cities, particularly New York City, demonstrated on May Day with parades of radical, labor, and other organizations, followed by mass meetings.

The beginning of May, whether celebrated with May Polls and flower festivals, or labor demonstrations, or no celebrations at all, introduces a month with few surprises. While March “comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb," and April teases with balmy weather one day and pseudo-winter the next, the month of May brings a stable promise of ever better days to come.

Welcome, Clayton Bye, I’m so happy to have you as my guest.

For all those visiting my blog, I'd like to introduce my guest blogger, Clayton Bye, publisher and author of the outstanding horror anthology," The Speed of Dark". His collection, written by many gifted authors, that many of you may know, will entertain, amaze, and give you much to think about. I am honored to have two of my own horror stories, which many of you may have read, within his eclectic, mind-boggling anthology of short horror stories.

When you have finished enjoying Clayton Bye’s post, please leave him a comment and check out this unusual collection of stories . . . Which I suggest you do not read before bedtime. Thank you Clayton for being a honored guest on my humble blog.

Guest Clayton C. Bye Talks About The Speed Of Dark

The birth of a book

Many years ago, my son, who was four at the time, came downstairs a little while after being put to bed. He looked at me and asked "Dad, what's the speed of Dark?" To say I was blown away would be grossly incorrect. I told him dark didn't have a speed, that it was the absence of light. And that light had speed. He nodded and went happily back to bed.

Not I. The rest of the evening saw me struggle with the idea that a four year-old boy would be thinking about such things. And at the end of it, I promised myself, that sometime in the future I would use what had taken place. I would use that question.

Well, now is the time. The collection of horror stories, The Speed of Dark, is all about my son's question. Dark, the absence of light, seems so real to us. We can see it crawl across a floor, we shudder when we realize how dark a particular mind has become, and then there are the monsters who live in the dark, in something that doesn't even exist as long as there's a sun in the sky or a light beside your bed.

And in the midst of all these horror stories you will find something more, something that will change the way you look at light and dark forever. It's a story called The Speed of Dark, and it uses the question my son asked 19 years ago. My answer is also used...  but... it will be corrupted. The answer as it is used in this story will send sharp needles of discomfort into your soul. My hope? That the story disturbs you badly. That the innocent question first asked comes through the years twisted into something evil that just dares you to read on.

Here is an excerpt...

 

"Can you make me not afraid, Richard? Can you make it so I don't have to go into the dark?"

Richard started crying.

"Watch the windows, Timmy," he said. "Let the sun fall on your face."

Tim got up and walked over to one of the diminishing beams of light. He turned toward the window from which the beam originated, and then stepped into the path of the reddening light.

"Richard!" he exclaimed. "It's still warm."

The older boy didn't have the heart to tell Tim the warmth would fade, that there was no way to escape the darkness. Their problem wasn't the speed with which darkness travelled, he thought, but one involving the very nature of darkness.

 

Now that we have that out of the way let's talk a little about the other authors in this project. They didn't knowingly play along with my theme. Until I wrote the introduction for the story, they didn't have a clue what meaning the title of the book had for me. You see, I asked each of the authors I picked to submit stories for The Speed of Dark to bring me something strangely different and disturbing. Why that definition? My own story fits the definition, and, for the purposes of this book, disturbing actually means horror. 

We have the terrific John B. Rosenman, author of 25 novels, over 300 short stories, one-time president of the HWA, and a University Professor. He brings you the story "Jesse's Hair."  I challenge anyone to tell me that story is not strangely different and disturbing. Third story in the book, "Jesse's Hair" is just one of the tales that set the tone for our marvelous and creepy anthology. Read it. I dare you. 

Clayton Bye is a writer, editor and publisher. The author of 9 books and a varied collection of short stories, poems, articles and hundreds of reviews, he is in the process of publishing his second anthology of excellent short stories by some great talents from around the world. The first book featured general fiction, while the current offering is horror, through and through. Mr. Bye also offers a wide range of writing services, including small business management for writers.

 

A short excerpt from "Retrovirus:"

Gilada was a chameleon. Plug herself into any computer with access to the web and she could transform her appearance and body mass—the electrons they used to help build her having the

ability to flow both ways, her molecules transformational from within and without. When she had left Jim's home, Gilada was as white as porcelain, and partially translucent. One could see the fine blue veins just below her skin. Green eyes looked out from under autumnal auburn hair. And gone was the tall Amazon: this girl was the very definition of petite. To the pharmacist in the strip mall just down the street from Jim's place she was the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen. He fawned over her like an old fool, his assistants shaking their heads in disapproval and disgust. He was married and probably 3 times the woman's age. But Gilada got what she came for anyway. 

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