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A Sword in Time (Thief in Time Series Book 3)A Sword in Time by Cidney Swanson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I absolutely love this series. Nearly as much as I did Saving Mars. Let’s see, space travel, living on another planet, or Time Travel to ancient Greece? Space Travel. But this runs a close second.

Cidney Swanson writes the way I wish I did. She grabs your attention and won’t let go until the book is finished and then leaves you wishing for more.

Maybe it is from too many nights awake reading this that I got this latest fibro attack? Maybe worth it?

At any rate, this is a must read series! I think you will like it! I can’t wait for more!!!

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StumbleStumble by Susana Sparrow
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This was quite fun. The young female protagonist goes to visit relatives in Europe. There are language problems for her except for those who do speak English. But the adventure begins when she goes to the cave surrounded by mythology.

I don’t want to give anything away but magic happens. Lots of magic. Some quite dangerous. Remember language issues and trying to remain a good house guest for her relatives. Oh, then add a romance that is quite impossible on so many levels. Yep, now you have a story. I quite enjoyed it and hope everyone gets a chance to read it.

Yeah, I know. I don’t usually like romance. But this one has so many problems most don’t have. And this protagonist is strong and stands for her feminist ideals in spite of all the magic. This kept it interesting for me. I hope it is for you, too.

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Ride


That prompt may have sparked your brain like it did mine. I was leaning back thinking about an ‘R’ word, looked at my calendar and said, “Eighteenth of April.” Baby Boomers and older probably do the same thing I did. The poem started and then I knew the significance of the date.

 

Paul Revere’s Ride

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow1807 – 1882

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive 
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch
Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal-light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm.”

Then he said “Good night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war:
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon, like a prison-bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified 
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street
Wanders and watches with eager ears, 
Till in the silence around him he hears 
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 
And the measured tread of the grenadiers 
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed to the tower of the church,
Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead, 
In their night-encampment on the hill, 
Wrapped in silence so deep and still 
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread, 
The watchful night-wind, as it went 
Creeping along from tent to tent, 
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!” 
A moment only he feels the spell 
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread 
Of the lonely belfry and the dead; 
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 
On a shadowy something far away, 
Where the river widens to meet the bay, --
A line of black, that bends and floats 
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride, 
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side, 
Now gazed on the landscape far and near, 
Then impetuous stamped the earth, 
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search 
The belfry-tower of the old North Church, 
As it rose above the graves on the hill, 
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height, 
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight 
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village-street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 
And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed that flies fearless and fleet: 
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, 
The fate of a nation was riding that night; 
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders, that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock, 
And the barking of the farmer’s dog, 
And felt the damp of the river-fog,
That rises when the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington. 
He saw the gilded weathercock 
Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 
Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 
As if they already stood aghast 
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When be came to the bridge in Concord town. 
He heard the bleating of the flock, 
And the twitter of birds among the trees, 
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read,
How the British Regulars fired and fled,--
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard-wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,-- 
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.


If you click on the title of the poem it will take you to the website
where I found it to learn more about the poem, the event, and the poet.

This is the 'R' of my A to Z Challenge.

Quack


After our walk today we decided to go for a drive around the lake. My son didn’t realize we had a lake so I had to prove it. It’s small but chocked full of ducks and geese. I was driving so I wasn’t able to take pictures.

 

Even better, we went to the library. My favorite place in town. My son is now official and has his own library card. No, he’s not 4. Add 41 years to that. But I believe you aren’t real until you have the local library card.

I really need to get out my cell phone and take my own pictures around here. This one is very old. It is so much cooler than this!

I’m on ‘Q’ on my A to Z challenge. Time to get some Quiet!

Possible


Probably, it is possible, we will have SPRING. I don’t know what you all are seeing in FaceBook but every other non-political post is about Spring not being here and Winter pushing us past our limits.

This was ‘P’ day in my AtoZ Challenge. The second letter of Spring. Maybe by the time I get to the ‘S’s it will come?

Here’s where you find the real A to Z Challenge that I didn’t sign up for but Playing anyway.

Oh My–Almost Monday!


Okay, so here we are with Sunday nearly over. According to my A-Z challenge for myself, this is ‘O’ day and I almost didn’t get this blog done!

As a retired person, Monday holds no sway for me. Except that my sweetie and I spend the weekends binging shows. During the week we are in separate rooms working on our own pursuits, writing, Facebooking, etc.

This weekend binge was first Lost in Space , what fun it was! I loved it because as a sci-fi it included everyone, all ages, colors, genders and still remained exciting. It even manages to have good and bad in an inclusive manner.

Sundays have been mostly The Walking Dead or Fear of the Walking Dead. Again, the reasons I love these shows are the all-inclusiveness. And the story-line is always fresh.

But I never just sit and stare at a screen. I am usually knitting or playing a game on my phone or –TADA editing! I did 4 hours today. I did do some knitting and played a couple games of FreeCell while I gnashed on sentences that beg to be fixed but I couldn’t figure them out while staring at them.

Since I am not signed up Officially with the A-Z Challenge I will say if you want to learn more about it click on the blued URL above.

If you can spare a moment to beta-read my first 13 chapters of Haven, I would be ever so grateful. Leave me questions or critiques (Please be kind–this is scary!)


American PandaAmerican Panda by Gloria Chao
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What a cute book! What a necessary book. I tagged this story with Feminism because there are cultures who need more individual growth and less tradition. I think everyone should read this book to see where one’s traditions and growth of personhood resides.

The author, Gloria Chao, does a marvelous job bringing us into her world, learning the traditions that she grew up with. It is wonderful seeing that change can happen. That individuals can find their own happiness.

My copy was the Kindle version borrowed from the e-library. If you can you should look it up. It is a light read to have so much to it. I might read it again, someday.

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This Stream of Consciousness Saturday is brought to you by Linda G. Hill . The prompt is ‘mon’. That doesn’t fit where I am on the A to Z challenge. I’m on ‘N’. By the way, my friend, John Holton notified me of the real A to Z Challenge if you click on the one that’s underlined you can go to the original and learn how it is supposed to work.

When I first saw the prompt this is what I thought of:

And who could think of anything else once they see the monkey in a monocle?

But since my own challenge puts me on the letter ‘N’. I will continue the stream of consciousness. And my stream leads me to say, “Never did I ever think I would see a monkey in a monocle!” There are the wonders of Google!

Oh, and though I got to go for a walk today, the best word of the day was NAP! I know I won’t sleep tonight but the best sleep in the world are those wonderous naps that come up on you when you least expect them.

Mud <– Karma for A-Z


Looking at Linda G. Hill’s page today and the weather they are experiencing there, made me wonder if all this mud is Karma! We have had non-stop wind, rain, snow and the resulting mud between storms. Luckily, we live in a desert so much is just wet sand. It doesn’t get sloggy or mushy. It is easy to get around in regular shoes if you avoid the puddled mud. But with the weather changing day by day and not letting Spring take effect, I’m beginning to believe it may be Karma.

I didn’t get started on time for the official A-Z Challenge. So I just am playing along illegally. I think you can Google it to find the actual web URL of the person who starts it so–

Here’s MUD in your eye, Karma!

Lousy Illegal “L”


After my lousy poem yesterday to catch up with the illegal alphabet blogging, and lousy weather and lousy lazying around NOT walking, I have very little to say.

I have been editing my first book. Until I reached a horrid sentence and can’t seem to find a creative way around it. So instead of showing you what it is, I will sneak in this tidbit: I’m editing my first book!

I wrote Haven in the March following 9/11. Actually, I made it a NaNoWriMo as I started on the Ides of March and finished on the Ides of April. Except I didn’t finish it until November the same year  (2002) as there was a move involved and a lot of stressy things going on.

Haven started as I was riding the train on my daily commute to Irvine. During that time there were a lot of times the train wouldn’t continue on to LA. for fear of terrorists, etc. I sat there and wished, “If only there were a planet…” and that wish was strong enough to pull out my Palm Pilot and portable keyboard and started writing.

I have been told there is not enough tension in this book. But taking that wish, I was avoiding tension. These days I seek less tension as it seems everyone wants to blame each other, argue or hate each other. I think it is nearly worse than the atmosphere of 9/11. That was why I finally pulled it out and started working on it again. Then that lousy sentence! But editing is what I’ve chosen to do for CampNaNo. So…

If anyone is curious you can find the first 8 chapters here. I hope it isn’t Lousy.

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