HEROES: Military Working Dogs (MWDs)

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on April 2, 2012

STUBBY was no slouch. He was promoted to the rank of Sergeant and respected his superiors with a famous one-paw-over-the-eye salute!

Private Robert Convoy found the stray Bull Terrier Mix in 1917 at the training camp of the 102nd Infantry at Yale University. He and his buddies kept Stubby with them throughout their training. When their ship deployed to France, Stubby was smuggled aboard. He went through additional training before participating in seventeen war engagements in four WWI offensives. Once, he roused a sleeping sergeant to warn him of a gas attack, giving the soldiers time to don masks. Many lives were saved that night.

The fiesty little stray didn’t disappoint. He performed numerous other heroic deeds and served as an icon of hope. Later, he was awarded the NCO rank of Sergeant. The most decorated dog from WWI became a post-war celebrity who hobnobbed with Presidents, Generals and Hollywood actors.

Dogs and the Military

Dogs aren’t new to the military. From ancient war camps to now, canines have played an important part. Since the Revolutionary War, dogs served the U.S. military as companions, helpers, morale boosters and mascots.

In WWII, more than 10,000 MWDs were deployed to both Europe and the Pacific to act as sentries, scouts and mine detectors.

The Vietnam War elevated MWD duties to serving with their handlers and units as co-fighters and expert danger sensors, as well as mine detectors.

Unfortunately, a great travesty of justice occurred after WWII and the Vietnam War. The military classified the MWDs as “disposable.” When our troops went home, the dogs were euthanized, or left behind to fend for themselves.

Not cool.

Hideous.

No way to treat a war hero.

NEMO was One of the Few Vietnam War Dogs to Make it Back to the U.S.

Nemo and his handler, Airman Second Class Robert Thorneburg, were patrolling an old Vietnamese graveyard when they were attacked. Nemo and Thorneburg killed two Vietcong before Thorneburg was shot twice in the shoulder. A bullet entered under Nemo’s right eye and exited through his mouth. The injury didn’t stop Nemo. He threw himself on four Vietcong guerrillas as they opened fire. Despite his injuries and being blinded in one eye, Nemo crawled back to his handler and draped himself over him, guarding him, until medical help came. The residing vet had to be called in to coax Nemo off Thorneburg. Both survived.

Back at the base, Nemo had a tracheotomy and skin grafts. He lost his right eye. He returned to the U.S. as a war hero, making personal appearances and spending his retirement at the dog training facility at Lackland AFB.

Changing hearts is a big job. It takes time. I believe Nemo was instrumental in starting to change the heart of the military about MWD classification.

Have Times Changed?

Here’s what one Animal Care Sergeant of the U.S. Army said: “I just wanted you to hear this from someone who’s right in the thick of everything with these MWDs about just how much these dogs are loved while they’re working. They really do get royal treatment that most people don’t have the opportunity to see…they really aren’t treated like property…”

Today, MWDs are considered valuable assets in supporting the war on terror. They safeguard military bases and sniff out explosives. Approximately 2,000+ working dogs are trained and cared for at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas – the center for the Defense Department’s Military Working Dog Program. The trained dog and handler teams are deployed worldwide.

The military, as well as private organizations, have also stepped up to the plate sponsoring adoption of brave dogs who served our country in the Armed Forces.

Five Brave MWDs

Ninety acres of mine-contaminated land were declared safe for building a College of Agriculture in Iraq because of five selfless canines. It took the MWDs eight years to complete this task. Now, thanks to the help of many caring organizations, BLEK, MALYSH, MISO, NERO and ROCKY are to be adopted by American families.

To Name a Few…

RAGS – a Cairn Terrier (France, WWI) ran a message through falling bombs though he was gassed and partially blinded (he survived!).

CHIPS – a German shepherd/husky/collie mix (France, Germany, Italy and North Africa; WWII) was the most decorated K9 who served in WWII.

KAISER – a German shepherd who completed more than 30 combat patrols and became the first dog killed in action during the Vietnam War.

Lex – a hero for our times

During a rocket attack in Iraq in 2007, handler Corporal Dustin Lee was fatally injured. His MWD, Lex, sustained multiple shrapnel wounds but steadfastly remained with his team partner until other Marines arrived to provide medical attention.

The broken-hearted Lee family wanted to adopt their deceased son’s dog. While Lex was in intensive treatment for his wounds, they began appealing to the Marine Corps for the adoption. After months of prayers, letters and phone calls, the Lees won their battle to adopt Lex, who had returned to active duty.

For five years, Lex worked as a certified therapy dog with Paws 4 Hearts, visited wounded veterans in hospitals, went to veteran dedications and helped to bring awareness to the U.S. War Dogs Memorial. He, along with the Lees, worked tirelessly to change how people look at MWDs.

After an heroic life superbly lived, including winning an honorary Purple Heart, twelve-year-old Lex passed away March 25, 2012. Rachel Lee says the battle is not over yet. She continues her fight for federal support for families who adopt animals that served in the military.

RIP, dear Lex.

A Chance to Get Involved

Negotiations are underway to make Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas, the home of the Military Working Dog Teams Monument.

A quote from their official page: “There is no way we can put a number on all those American Servicemen’s children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren that are here today because America gave her sons and daughters a dog to serve with during times of war. And the dogs had names like CHIPS (WWI) , YORK (Korean War), NEMO (Vietnam War), COOPER (Iraq War), HUNTER (Afghanistan War) and the list of names goes into the tens of thousands…”

What about you? Would you and/or your family be a good fit for a retired Military Working Dog, a national hero on four legs?

Click here to participate in honoring the sacrifices of our devoted, incredible canines and their handlers by making the Working Dog teams National Monument a reality.

A Dog’s View

Cracker! The Best Dog in Vietnam, a novel by Cynthia Kadohata, is one-dog’s first-hand account (yes, it’s told from Cracker’s perspective) of serving in the military in Vietnam. I listened to the audio book on a road trip, and it was riveting! Take it on your next trip. You and everyone in the car will be mesmerized! Here’s a link to more books and videos about military war dogs: http://olive-drab.com/od_wardogs.php

Dedication to Joshua

This blog about Military Working Dogs is lovingly dedicated to Joshua Ben Stewart Selah, my beloved companion for fourteen years, who went to heaven on March 28, 2012. May he rest in peace until we are together again – Jodi Lea Stewart

When Joshua went to doggie heaven last week, I was amazed by the kind and sympathetic flood of condolences from people I’ve never met in person, but feel close to on Facebook and Twitter. One thought was paramount – people love animals! And their hearts go out to everyone who loses a four-legged friend. Hope shall always survive where that kind of love abides.

A visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation, so I’d love to hear from you.

I truly hope you’ll pick up a copy of my novel Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves: SUMMER OF THE ANCIENT. The print version is on sale at Amazon for only $11.66. For your convenience, it’s also available for Kindle, the Nook and for most other eBook readers. If you love the Southwest and kooky little characters that make you laugh aloud as authentic danger and mystery swirl at every turn, you’ll love this novel!

The second book in the series, CANYON OF DOOM, debuts in early 2013.

While you’re here, please have a look around my website. Tp sign up to receive notices of new blogs, recipes, appearances and media news leave your email address above. I’ll take care of the rest. Y’all come back soon … I miss you already!

Movies and the Lucky 7

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on March 26, 2012

I’m traveling a different path with this blog as I discuss movies and the Lucky 7 (which I’ll explain later). How do they relate? They don’t!

Bear with me, and we’ll have a little fun.

The movie experience

A fellow writer in our Facebook writing group recently posted a blog about how going to the movies was a cruddy experience and that no movies are worth seeing anyway.

I respectfully disagree.

Every Friday night, my hubby and I put on our sweats or jeans and tennis shoes, put our dogs in charge of the house (yes, we let them use weapons!) and head for the movies. I have to admit that my husband and I are both workaholics in our chosen fields, so this Friday night ritual is more than entertainment – it’s a rite of passage into the weekend.

Sitting in the plush, comfortable seats of our favorite theatre with a big bag of delicious popcorn and our cold drinks, we allow our minds to relax and refresh as we totally engage in another world for that brief stretch of time.

I’m the emotional, sensitive type, so I go through the whole gamut of emotions as I munch and crunch my once-a-week popcorn splurge. I laugh, cry, expect, worry, hope. I sit on the edge of my seat to aid the good guy in his pursuit of justice. I inwardly cheer when a parent understands, a love is reunited, a boy defeats a bad villain, a girl finds her long-lost mother, a country is saved, an evil plan is thwarted.

Sometimes, I lean over and whisper the next line to my hubby. He whispers, “How did you know that?” I whisper back, “I’m a writer.”

It feels wonderful to guess exactly what the screenwriters will “say” next. Try it sometime – you’ll like it!

When hubby and I are not pleased with the ending of a film, we spend many happy moments on the way home discussing how it could have been written differently to give x, y, or z results. That’s better than medicine for a writer’s soul, let me tell you!

I admit that not all movies are worth seeing.

We’re very selective about the content and intent of what we feed our brains. Additionally, we cringe at some of the trash movies we see adults taking their young children, pre-teens and teens to watch. I feel sorry for those young minds and spirits having to absorb garbage that isn’t productive or positive. End of subject.

People at the Movies

My fellow writer I mentioned earlier said babies cry and people leave their cell phones on and it’s just a generally awful experience in the movie theatre itself. Again, I disagree.

It has been years since I’ve heard a cell phone ring or a baby cry during a movie. Once, a baby started fussing, and the mom immediately took the baby out of the auditorium. End of problem. One time, I forgot to turn my phone off and it rang! I almost died of mortification, but people turned to me and smiled. They understood. No big deal. Hey, we’re out to have fun, not get our rears tied in a knot.

Popcorn

If the popcorn is lousy, I’m not going back. A theatre chain that rhymes with “shave” used to be our favorite, until they started serving popcorn that tasted like cereal. Put it in a bowl, add milk and sugar and you could have breakfast with that dry, tasteless stuff.

To make matters worse, they cut out providing *free* Kernel Season’s Popcorn Seasoning (White Cheddar is to die for), or even making it available to buy in the itty bitty shakers. Big mistake. With so many choices available, why would a business go backward in providing the best for their customers? Mind-boggling.

You knew it was coming: For whatever reasons…Jodi Lea Stewart’s humble list of favorite movies for 2011.

The Iron Lady (what can I say? It’s Meryl Streep in a fascinating role)
Water for Elephants (almost as good as the book – rare, indeed)
Moneyball (Brad’s best)
Soul Surfer (most inspirational)
Sherlock Holmes 2 (lots of sleight-of-hand fun)
Hugo Cabret (amazingly imaginative)
Larry Crowne (Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts? I’m there)
The Ides of March (makes you wish we could have government without politicians)
Captain America (standing up for mom, apple pie, and the American way!)
Real Steel (you’ll cheer at the end)
The Help (fab, except for the pie thing…should have just added ex-lax)
Thor (Chris Hemsworth is just so…so…well, anyway)
Tower Heist (stupid, corny and makes you laugh)
Puss in Boots (Antonio Banderas – enough said.)
Limitless (if you read my blog about Squeeze, this guy got into it and added steroids!)
The Lincoln Lawyer (more Matthew McConaughey movies, please)

What is Lucky 7?

Lucky 7 is a little tornado that blew into our WANA112 writing group recently.

Here are the rules of the game:

1. Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIP
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs, and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 authors, and let them know.

If you don’t yet have 77 pages of your current work in progress completed, just choose the first seven sentences.

I’m tagging my authors first. Only one author is in our writing group, but that adds a nice bit of seasoning – sort of how Kernel season’s White Cheddar seasoning livens up popcorn, you know?

Nikki McCormack, Kristen Lamb, J.r. Sanders, Chris Eboch, Carol Buchanan, Sue Cauhape, Dutch Henry

Here are the nine (shh!) seven sentences from my current Work in Progress: Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves: CANYON OF DOOM

♥

A shaky sigh rose from my stomach and leaked out as a sob.

“Stop bawling!” Talastic ordered, frowning at me like I had two heads. Her scowl dissolved into quivers. “I don’t want to live, Silki…I just…”

She closed her eyes. Teardrops pushed past her eyelashes and raced down her dirty cheeks. Her whole body shook as she shrieked and pounded the ground with her fists. I stared at the sky so Talastic and her sorrow could be alone.

Would her outburst cleanse her soul of its torment?

♥

So there you have it – my blog featuring two very different subjects that purposely don’t tie into each other. I had oodles of fun, and I hope you did, too.

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I know you’ll have lots to say after reading our seven tagged authors’ Lucky 7 lines, so fire away!

I truly hope you’ll pick up a copy of my novel Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves: SUMMER OF THE ANCIENT. The print version is on sale at Amazon for only $11.21!!! For your convenience, it’s also available for Kindle, the Nook and for most other eBook readers. If you love the Southwest and kooky little characters that make you laugh aloud as authentic danger and mystery swirl at every turn, you’ll love this novel! The second book in the series, CANYON OF DOOM, debuts in early 2013.

While you’re here, please have a look around my website. To sign up to receive notices of my new blogs, recipes, appearances and media news, just leave your email address above. I’ll take care of the rest. Y’all come back soon … I miss you already!

Sassy Sassafras Tea

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on March 21, 2012

Sassafras Tea

Sassafras Root
Water (at least 1 quart)
Cream and sugar (optional)

Dig up several roots from a sassafras tree (or order online). Rinse thoroughly until clean. Depending on the size of the root(s), place in a large pot or teakettle. Boil to desired strength.

The tea will be a pale-pinkish-brown. The pinker the tea, the stronger it is. Add sugar and/or cream if desired. Drink hot or cold.

Keep in a pot on the back of the stove. You can refill the pot with water and boil it again for more tea.

Comment: Chewing on a piece of raw root cleans your teeth and freshens your breath – Everett Woods (Woods kid #1, 1910-1996)

Comment: Drink this tea every spring to “thin your blood” – Elmer Woods (Granddad aka Pa Dubie)

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

Sassy Sassafras

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on March 21, 2012

My granddad Elmer learned a lot from the Five Civilized Tribes…medicine, ceremonial dancing and how to survive.

After his mother died giving birth to him and his twin sister, his sister was sent to live with relatives in the Pacific Northwest. Elmer headed to Indian Territory, Oklahoma, in a covered wagon with his mother’s brother and his wife. He was two weeks old, and the year was 1884.

Native American Ways

Indian Territory consisted of the lands of the Five Civilized Tribes: Cherokees, Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks and Seminoles, along with twenty-two other tribes.

Elmer got along well with his Native American neighbors. They trusted him enough to let him dance with them whenever he wanted. They taught him their secrets of survival, like how to use roots, leaves, bark and plants to make medicines.

He used that knowledge for his family, and for others, his whole life. The longevity his eleven children enjoyed speaks for the wisdom of those natural preventives.

Case in point – my mother. She’s 86 years young and still bakes the best pies you ever tasted, does her own grocery shopping, drives thousands of miles by herself and can still cut a rug when she really wants to.

She’s Elmer’s eighth child, and one of the tonics she grew up on was sassafras tea.

Thinning (purifying) the blood

Elmer insisted that his family members drink sassafras tea liberally every spring to thin their blood after the long, harsh Oklahoma and Missouri winters.

Sassafras trees, with their irregular lobed leaves and aromatic bark, grew wild and plentiful in the woods. Elmer gathered roots every spring. After thoroughly cleaning a root, or hunks of root, he placed it in a pot of water to boil. Soon, the water turned a beautiful clear pink. When the family was fortunate enough to buy sugar, they added it to the spicy tea, along with fresh cow cream.

It didn’t take much persuasion for eleven little country kids to want to start thinning their blood and ridding themselves of their sluggish winter bodies!

As a very young child, I remember seeing a pan on my grandma’s stove with a big tree root poking out of the top. That was fascinating! The tea tasted wonderful, and I wanted lots and lots.

Later on, when I was a teenager and more snooty sophisticated, I doubted my granddad’s theory about sassafras tea thinning the blood.

How ridiculous, I thought.

Pure folklore.

Dumb.

Then I grew enough brain cells to check it out for myself.

I found out that sassafras tea is recognized as a natural anticoagulant.

Anticoagulant = blood thinner. Fancy that.

Ever notice how much smarter grownups got after our teen years?

In early America, sassafras and tobacco were the main exports from the colonies to England. Sassafras was revered for its medicinal qualities, as well as for the beauty of its wood.

Alas, sassafras tree byproducts, including sassafras tea, are controversial these days, which is why it isn’t the main ingredient in root beer anymore.

The dried and ground sassafras leaves are still used to make filé powder for certain types of gumbo.

And lots of people just go right on using the mysterious tree’s bark, leaves and roots.

A good argument in favor of doing that might be my granddad. He lived into his eighties with no medicines other than the natural ones he learned from The Five Civilized Tribes. He hand-delivered all of his eleven children, survived total economic depression with nothing but his two hands to make a living and played a mean banjo and fiddle with no lessons.

Maybe there really is something to “thinning the blood” with sassafras tea every spring. You think?

Have you ever tasted sassafras tea? Did you know it was the main flavoring in root beer at one time, or that some people thought of the sassafras tree as the root beer tree? Did your family use any old-timey “medicines” that didn’t come from a pharmacy? Tell us about it. We’d love to hear about it!

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

Professor Dolphin Knew Best

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on March 7, 2012

Island

A journalism and corporate writing background conditioned me into thinking I was ready to swim out to the Island of Non-Fiction and string up a nice hammock between two palms.

I’d drop a lobster trap off the rocky side of the island, carefully keep my matches dry and write thought-provoking, interesting non-fiction forevermore.

I would pen magazine articles, essays, editorials.

I’d turn out how-to’s, recipe books, child-rearing booklets and sundry other juicy projects. *Don’t you just love the sound of sundry?*

Dip into family genealogy.

Try my hand at middle-grade articles about camping or friendship. Or, about believing in yourself.

Case closed.

Alas! You might say I experienced a curve “wave.”

While splashing my way to the Island of Non-Fiction about seven years ago, a peculiar, mystical creature emerged from my turquoise tropical dream like a tenured professor wearing a dolphin suit and a tutorial expression.

I attempted to swim around him to get to my island, but the aquatic grampus was too swift and blocked my every move.

Sensing he would not speak to me until I stopped flailing, I quietly dog paddled and waited. He seemed pleased.

“Jodi, you won’t be going to the Island of Non-Fiction,” Professor Dolphin said, fixing me with a solemn mien.

“What! You have to be joking! I love shells and pretty sunsets over the waves.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “From now on, fiction is the new non-fiction for you.”

“But I don’t know anything about writing fiction,” I whined.

“Exactly,” the slick grey mammal smiled.

“Happy plotting, Jodi. May all your dreams be themes. May your characters ever be fleshy and your mid-book chapters sodden with thrills.”

I remember swallowing a lot of brine when he said that.

With a wink, Professor Dolphin dove head first into the majestic azure and white waves … towing my safe and comfortable Island of Non-Fiction behind him.

I stared until he and the island became as tiny as fly specs. Then I turned and swam out to sea.

Are you doing something you never dreamed you would do? Did you once think you would never live in a place you live now? Have you made any bold claims about your life that you had to “eat” later on?

Tell us about it! We’re dying to hear!

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

I truly hope you’ll pick up a copy of my novel Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves: SUMMER OF THE ANCIENT. The print version is on sale at Amazon for only $9.85!!! For your convenience, it’s also available for Kindle, the Nook and for most other eBook readers. If you love the Southwest and kooky little characters that make you laugh aloud as authentic danger and mystery swirl at every turn, you’ll love this novel! The second book in the series, CANYON OF DOOM, debuts in early 2013.

Why Wes Studi is the Father of my Baby, er…I Mean, Protagonist

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on March 5, 2012

Just how did my current Young Adult mystery/adventure series wind up in the Navajo Nation?

Actors Irene Bedard and Wes Studi (aka Frank Begay). It’s okay by me if Irene wants to play the part of Auntie Zim in the Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves series—she’s perfect for it!

I’ll tell you. One day, when I was about knee high to a katydid, my mom moved us to Arizona.

I went from picking blackberries with my cousins to jumping flat-footed into a tall cow-feed bin as I witnessed my first cattle-branding event.

I was traumatized…

… even though the ranchers told me the calves were laughing. Yeah, they told me those things they threw in the fire and ate later on were oysters, too. They were. Mountain oysters.

Our Arizona high-country ranch was located between the Navajo Rez and the White Mountain Apache Tribe Rez. My schoolmates were Native American, Hispanic and just a few Anglos, like five or six of them. In case you don’t know, Anglos are Caucasians.

It was, at the very least, an incredible experience; and it marked me for life. I forever gallop the winds of my imagination in the high country – in my mind, and in my novels.

Now you know why I started my novel-writing career smack dab in the Navajo Nation, don’t you?

My protagonist for the Silki, the Girl of Many Scarves series, is a young Navajo with a steroid imagination, a penchant for adventure and an addiction to scarves. Her professor mother, immersed in academia, isn’t around a lot. Her dad is.

Meet Frank Begay – “Silki’s dad.”

Silversmith. Musician. Husband. Father. Son. Uncle. Son-in-law. Wise counselor. Diné.

Think about that; this man has a lot on his shoulders.

Now peek up there at Wes Studi.

See the twinkling eyes? The shy, strong smile. The map of wisdom engraving his face?

No doubt about it…when Hollywood knocks on my door, Wes plays Frank!

I already know your arguments.

Wes Studi is Cherokee, not Navajo. It’s a movie part…not real life! M-O-V-I-E. Entertainment. Playacting. Sheesh. I hope that settles that one. *dusts off hands*

Wes Studi is a little older than Frank Begay. You’re worried about that? Just look at that timeless face. I say Wes Studi can play characters in their mid-thirties to their sixties and beyond. It’s not the age; it’s the actor – and brother, can he act! Think Dances with Wolves, Last of the Mohicans, Avatar.

Wes Studi, actor

Anyhoo, next time any of you happens to run into Wes, like in Hollywood or Colorado or some other cool place, tell him “toodle-oo” for me, and that he has first crack at the part of Frank in the Silki movies – just as soon as Hollywood goes gaga over my Silki novels – of course.

Minor detail.

Readers, do certain actors seem perfect for the characters in the books you read?

Writers, who do you think should play the major parts in your novel(s) when Hollywood beats on your door?

Tell us about it.

We’re dying to know!

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

The Land of Ish

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on February 29, 2012

Land of Ish

Personally, I don’t see how we can survive these days without the Land of Ish.

I mean, think about it. You’re due in a meeting at work at a certain time, say nine o’clock. You did everything you should have done to be there on time – got up early, out the door on time, filled your gas tank the night before.

What you didn’t do is inherit a magic wand to control all the elements of life. Things like a sick child. The traffic flow. The weather.

You arrive at your meeting at 9:20. The boss looks at her watch when you enter. You give her a thumbs up and she nods. Why? Because you arrived at 9-ish!

Another scenario: It was all fun and games to talk about your age for the first thirty or so years of your life. Now, pushing forty (or fifty or *horrors* sixty), you wonder if the promotion you’re panting after will go to someone younger.

Maybe it’s something more artsy you’re craving … like a part in a play, a chance to sing or give a speech. Will the powers that be choose you over your younger counterparts? You certainly don’t look or feel your age. In fact, you’re downright ridiculously youthful. Is it your fault the world lusts after youth and beauty? Of course not!

When it comes time to spill the beans about your age (providing no one knows already), will you 1) tell the truth right out, and the results be hanged, or 2) bestow upon the inquirer a glorious smile and a shrug and say, oh, 30-ish, or 40-ish, or … well, you get the picture.

It’s not a lie.

It’s the Land of Ish at your service!

Ish serves us in other ways, too. Check this out ...

Don’t bother to go to that restaurant. It’s too cheapish.

My blind date was freakish.

I can’t join a group of such childish people.

My husband’s boyish smile gives me stomach flutters.

She wasn’t at all standoffish.

He got the job because he seemed the least amateurish.

Your kid was feverish this morning, too?

My new car is kind of bluish.

Whew! The Land of Ish is a busy place!

Ish is a descriptive suffix that makes comrades of strangers, knits friends tighter and gives all of us something to nod our heads about in agreement.

I’m not suggesting the Land of Ish run for president or anything, but it might make a good senator! After all, it’s not priggish, squeamish or mulish.

It’s simply stylish!

Hooray for the Land of Ish!

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

Aunt Dora’s Light Bread

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on February 27, 2012

Little girl baking

2 cups lukewarm water
2 tsp. sugar
2 pkg. yeast
2 cups milk
5 Tbls. sugar
4-1/2 tsp. salt
5 Tbls. Crisco, melted
12 cups flour

Dissolve 2 teaspoons sugar in 1-cup water. Sprinkle yeast on top and let stand for 10 minutes. Scald milk. Add 5 Tablespoons sugar and the salt. Cool to lukewarm.

Add yeast mixture, remaining water and the flour. Beat well. Add melted shortening and enough of remaining flour to make easily handled dough. Knead until smooth and elastic.

Place in greased bowl and let rise until doubled in size. Punch down. Let dough rise again. Divide and make into two loaves. Let loaves rise until double in size.

Bake at 425-degrees for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 375-degrees and bake for 30 minutes. Remove from pans onto a rack. Brush tops with butter.

Scalding milk: Old-fashioned but worthy in some cases!

Pour milk into a saucepan. Heat until it becomes lightly frothy with tiny bubbles forming around the edges. Stir constantly to prevent scorching. If you use a thermometer, heat to about 180 degrees.

A Smaller Version of Aunt Dora’s Light Bread:

½ cup warm water
½ tsp. sugar
½ pkg. yeast
½ cup milk
1-1/4 Tbls. sugar
1-1/8 tsp. salt
1-1/4 Tbls. Crisco, melted
3 cups flour

Follow the same instructions as for the larger recipe using the reduced amounts of ingredients. Let rise. Punch down. Let rise. Punch down. Make into one small loaf or squeeze dough through index finger and thumb to form rolls. Let rise. Bake. Serve.

Comment: These are the amounts I reduced the recipe so Ralph (husband) and I could make a pan of rolls for one meal back in 1946 – Aunt Dora Woods (married to Woods kid: Ralph)

Comment: This is an old recipe, so I have learned lots of shortcuts in the way I add the ingredients and mix it. Such as, I use Carnation instant dry milk, so mix the right amount in lukewarm water and no more scalding, etc. Try your luck and use your own method of mixing – Aunt Dora Woods (married to Woods kid: Ralph)

Comment: Trust me, this is some of the most delicious bread you’ll ever put a slab of butter on – Jodi Lea Stewart

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

Swoosh! Kerplunk! Ping! Ahghhh!

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on February 21, 2012

The racket was driving me mad. Or, madder, I should say.

With every new Hootsuite, StumbleUpon, Branch Out, Pinterest, Triberr or LinkedIn tidbit shared by the multi-quadrillions, the sound increased. I covered my ears.

I yanked my hair until the roots (which needed a little color, I might add) ached.

My throat growls were more wild than civilized.

The noise reverberated in my wetware *brain* constantly.

What was it?

Swoosh! Kerplunk! Ping! Ahghhh!

Swoosh. The sound of a heavy rock hurling through the air.

Kerplunk. A rock falling dead to the ground.

Ping! A rock clipping the side, top or bottom of a target.

Ahghhh! Unhappy groan of a defeated rock thrower.

Ad infinitum.

What in the world am I talking about?

Indulge me.

Pretend you have a stack of rocks. The rocks represent:

DUTY, EFFORT, TOIL.

Several yards in front of you are a row of targets. The targets are:

Writing bazillions of words. Making them brilliant, diverse, accurate, breathtakingly grand.
Flitting effortlessly through the columns of Twitter (Triberr, Tweetdeck, Hootsuite, Tweetle-Dee-Dum) and the pages of Facebook like the flawless social-media mavens we are.
Blogging like there’s no tomorrow. But there is a tomorrow. And another blog to write. If we write it, will readers even bother to come?
Publicity, platform building, conferences, improving our craft, writing groups.
Everything else in life!!

STRUGGLES! FRUSTRATION! WAILS! That was the racket I heard from my fellow bloggers, writers, and social-media pursuers. And in my own mind…

Fear that perhaps not all the blood, sweat and tears in the world would be enough to get us where we needed/wanted to be in our writing worlds.

Fear morphed into resentment – resentment into the sting of realizing the days of blissful writing by the sea or in a quaint mountain cabin with no worries about platform, social media, Google Analytics, Dashboards, etc. etc. etc. were gone forevermore.

“I must do something!”

I cried out, scaring my three Standard poodles and two rescue cats. And maybe my houseplants.

“I will invent an elixir to free the masses from this endless target-missing guilt!”

My eyeballs did socket circles as I conceived a name for the elixir.

SQUEEZE – the perfect name.

Why? Because my elixir would literally squeeze thirty-six hours effort from a mere twelve-hour exertion!

“Do not follow me!” I hoarsely commanded my pet entourage, retreating to my lab. I vowed never to emerge until SQUEEZE was ready to market.

I tore off my clothes and dressed in sackcloth. I sat in ashes and scratched my boils.

Wait. Sorry. That was Job, the Patriarch from the Bible. I get us mixed up sometimes.

Actually, I happened to glance out the window. Birds jabbed their beaks into my winter lawn. A crisp blue sky with pillow clouds winked at me.

Inside, my kitchen twinkled like an old friend. My houseplants seemed two shades greener than usual.

Epiphany!

I am in charge of ME!

Who said I had to turn out 2,000 words by evening? It was my own Sunday afternoon goal. I set it. I could break it, couldn’t I?

If I wanted to take weekends (or a day or an hour or two weeks) off and be a regular human being, I could!

I shook my fist in the direction of my home office…

Do you hear me, blogs yet unwritten?

Do you hear me, Work in Progress?

Do you hear me, computer, you greedy gateway to the social media universe?

I am the one in charge of my schedule…NOT YOU!

I think I must have passed out about then. When I came to, I was making potato soup, jalapeño cornbread and coconut pound cake. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with family (who sort of remembered who I was). We ate, talked and watched one of the very long Lord of the Rings movies. The best part – no guilt!

Takeaway

It’s hard to hit a target with a lopsided rock. Balance your life, and you’ll hit the important targets straight on.

How do you keep balance in your life? Please share. We’d love to hear about it!

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.

Bu++ Bites Build Gristle

Posted by Author Jodi Lea Stewart on February 16, 2012

It’s like this – the gander that was flapping my face, back and legs…

…while simultaneously biting blood blisters on my little three-year-old derriere didn’t know he was contributing to my future female assertiveness.

And being left alone in trees by older cousins while they went to play games assuredly built my self-reliance.

How did I get all this country-flavored therapy?

By being reared in a farm atmosphere with a pack of heathens for cousins, that’s how!

Descending upon Grandma and Granddad’s farm every summer made my cousins and me wacky. Throwing our shoes and socks over our shoulders, we screeched with pure, wild summer madness.

My gristle got a good start during those summers.

I was the youngest, shortest and most sensitive of the cousin pack *actually, they called me bawl-bag* which swelled in number from six to sixteen throughout the summer.

Our fun was simple in those days – we just created our own.

Running wild and barefoot, teasing Heir Gander (the baddest guy on the farm) and not minding our elders were outstanding activities.

Of course, not minding always resulted in a lesson on branch cutting (for switches) and a character-building session involving our gluteous maximi immediately thereafter.

Challenging Gander to a mad race across the barnyard was forbidden. And thrilling. Except for me. My legs wouldn’t get me very far before I was missing in action. A little wing whipping before being rescued by the cousins was worth all the grass-rolling hilarity that followed.

One day, Gander snapped.

Possessed by Hitler, Gander went for blood…

…and I was his victim.

Hair-raising screams brought a rescue unit of five or six wild-eyed adults.

After Heir Gander was slightly reconstructed by my hysterical mom, I experienced a grit-building event. My mom, with multiple pairs of cousin eyes staring, pulled down my shorts to inspect the gander bites. Snickering, then outright peals of laughter, filled the morning air.

That’s when I cried. Hard.

My strength was building!

Other times, when my cousins grew tired of babysitting me, they left me in a tall tree and told me to hold tight and be sure and not fall.

Hanging on for dear life—I’m afraid of heights to this day—I squalled until they came back. When they did, I was the center of attention. Merrily swung onto a pair of shoulders, I was teased, joked and promised games and stories. They even meant it.

I was all giggles when we returned to the farmhouse. Any notice of my red eyes or purple face was attributed to the heat and my allergic problems.

Experiences like these were difficult; but I’m glad I went through them and others later on. Why? Well, I have a theory:

A little grit in your craw makes life’s toughest tidbits easier to swallow.

Did you have any childhood experiences that “toughened” you up for later? We’re dying to hear about them!

(See Original Article)

Of course, a visit isn’t a visit without a two-way conversation. I really want to hear from you.