Yvette M. Calleiro - Writing and Reviews

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Welcome to Day 4 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! #RRBC #RWISA #RWISARiseUp

Welcome to Day 4 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! Each day, I will be featuring an amazing RWISA author and a piece he/she has written to focus on one of our two themes: A World Without Mom and/or How Living in This New World Has Change Me. Today's author is Robert Fear.

MOTIVATING OTHERS ON SOCIAL MEDIA

by Robert Fear

If anyone had told me at the start of the year what was going to happen in 2020, I would have thought they were crazy.

Over the past few weeks, I have learned to cope with this new reality. The initial feelings of anxiety and fear subsided, and my views changed as I became more sensitive to others and aware of how fragile our society is.

We are among the lucky ones. Although work from my day job has evaporated, my wife and I live in a comfortable house, our three cats keep us company, and we have enough money to last through this crisis. As a bonus, the weather has been warm and sunny for the daily exercise walks we are allowed to take.

When the lockdown was implemented, my thoughts turned to those less fortunate. Older people unable to leave home, those suffering from grief and depression, and residents of countries with even stricter lockdowns. I thought about how I might share my experiences on social media, to give motivation and bring a smile to the faces of those within my reach.

Living where we do in Eastbourne, on the south-east coast of England, we have many beautiful spots close to our home. There are several parks filled with trees, plants, grassland and lakes. Not far away is a farm track that winds through fields where horses, sheep and cattle graze. Birds sing as though nothing is wrong with the world. Then there is the seafront, along which runs a three-mile promenade, with views out across the English Channel.

Because of the lockdown and social distancing measures, there have been few people around on my daily walks. I gained a sense of tranquillity and tried to capture those precious moments on my smartphone, so I could share them with others.

With video clips, I recorded nature’s sights and sounds. These included gentle swaying trees with uplifting birdsong in the background, views across idyllic farmland to the hills of the South Downs, and waves crashing onto the shingle beach on a windy but sunny afternoon.

Amongst other subjects, my photos captured the beauty of spring flowers, rainbows drawn by children hung in windows, colourful beach huts, seafront carpet gardens, and the pier’s golden dome sparkling in the sunlight against a backdrop of clear blue skies.

I posted these to Facebook, both on my timeline and in two groups. In addition, I shared selected videos and photos on Instagram and Twitter. Three of those images are included here.

Cherry blossom

Social distancing seagulls

Children’s rainbow drawings

The responses to my posts have been encouraging and there has been positive feedback from around the world:

Ah, the sound of the sea. Just what I needed. Very clear skies. Robyn – New Zealand.

Oh, happy memories of a childhood near Brighton! The shingle beach and big waves. Thanks for sharing. Jackie – France.

I don’t know about you, but I’m appreciating spring more this year. It’s so lovely to watch the birds, butterflies, bees and other creatures carrying on with their daily lives amid the blossoms and blooms. Jay – Turkey.

Ebony was watching the birds outside from her perch and listening to the birds on your video thinking she was in real time. Laurie – USA.

One can’t be stressed watching the cows graze and listening to the bird song. Carola – Canada.

Lovely sights and sounds! Thanks! Susan – Uruguay.

How lucky to be able to go out for a walk. Thanks for sharing the pics. Patricia – Spain.

If you are on Facebook and want to view the video clips and see more photos, please send me a friend request and visit my page by clicking here.

As I bring this piece to a close in late April, the weather here has changed, and there is some much-needed rain. Our first rose of spring has chosen this day to make an appearance. A sign of hope for the future?

Thank you for supporting today's RWISA author along the RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the main RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour page on the RWISA site. For a chance to win a bundle of 15 e-books along with a $5 Amazon gift card, please leave a comment on the main RWISA "RISE-UP"Blog Tour page! Thank you and good luck!

Friday, May 8, 2020

Welcome to Day 3 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! #RRBC #RWISA #RWISARiseUp

Welcome to Day 3 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! Each day, I will be featuring an amazing RWISA author and a piece he/she has written to focus on one of our two themes: A World Without Mom and/or How Living in This New World Has Change Me. Today's author is Jan Sikes.

DEPRESSION SOUP by Jan Sikes

She stood in a line her head bowed low

There was nowhere to run, no place to go

With clothes that were ragged

And shoes that were worn

There were millions just like her

She wasn’t alone

America’s Great Depression had stolen their homes

Took its toll on their bodies

Tried to squash their souls

But she squared her shoulders, raised her eyes

Fierce determination replaced her sighs

She’d fight to survive, that much was true

Although many times, she’d be sad and blue

Someday there would be plenty

But for now, she was caught in a loop

She held out her bowl

For another serving

Of Depression Soup

Born in Missouri in 1917, my mom, Marian Edith Clark, learned about hardships at a young age.

Her mother, my grandmother, Sarah Jane, was sickly. The household chores fell on my mom’s shoulders when she was still a child. She shared memories of having to stand on a box so she could reach the stove to cook their meals.

My mom blue eyes sparkled, and her smile could light up a midnight sky. She started school in Treece, Kansas. Her family were migrant workers. Anytime they found an abandoned house, even if it was spooky, they moved in. Eventually, they landed in Pitcher, Oklahoma, where her father found a job in the iron and ore mines. She was in the ninth grade when he had an accident in the mines, and she had to quit school to help make a living for the family.

Her father became a bootlegger in Oklahoma. He would often get caught and wind up in jail for six months at a time, leaving the family to fend for themselves.

They eventually moved to Arkansas, where they had kinfolk who were sharecroppers. They picked cotton, and in Mom’s words, “Nearly starved to death.”

When she was around fourteen, her dad took the family to the Texas cotton fields. The whole family could pick, and they would make twenty-five cents for every hundred pounds of cotton.

We found this story written in a journal after Mom passed away.

“My last school was in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, population around 2,000. We lived two miles out in the country. I went to a two-room school. A man and his wife were both teachers. He taught in one room and her in the other. The man teacher went crazy and tried to kill his wife. When she got away, she came to our house. I’ll never forget how bloody her head was. When the police found him, he had crawled up under their house. So, they put him in a mental hospital.”

The Great Depression hit America in 1929, wiping out any semblance of a prospering economy. It was during that catastrophic era that my mom and dad met in Sayre, Oklahoma. At the time, she was babysitting for one of Dad’s sisters, and living in a government migrant camp with her family.

She was only seventeen, but they fell head-over-heels in love and decided to marry.

Mom had no shoes to wear for the ceremony, and a woman next to them in the camp loaned her a pair of shoes.

On April 14, 1934, they said their wedding vows in a preacher’s living room and began life together.

There were no pictures, no fanfare, no parties, and no honeymoon.

They spent their first night as newlyweds, sharing a bed with some of my dad’s younger brothers and sisters.

Their first home was an old farmhouse with nothing in it but a wood stove, a bed, and a table. Mom had no broom to sweep the floors, and when snakes crawled across, they left trails in the dirt.

Through the years, she shared many harrowing stories of how they survived as transients. They stayed within their family group and moved from the strawberry fields in Missouri, to potato fields in Kansas, to cotton fields in Texas. Often, they had no shelter from the elements, sleeping outdoors under a shade tree. Other times, they managed to have a tent or share a tent with other family members.

Mom and Dad’s life together, began under this umbrella of hopeless poverty.

Hunger was a constant companion. My mom had an older brother who often would go out at night and steal a chicken or watermelon.

Enmeshed in daily survival, they could see no future.

Sometime around late 1934, they moved to Fort Smith, Arkansas not knowing it was in the middle of an epidemic. They were lucky enough to find housing in a WPA camp. My dad got a job digging graves for fifty cents a week, plus a small amount of food. A man working with him warned him to stay clear of the hospital; that no one came out alive.

However, the hospital laundry was the only place Mom found work. Automation wasn’t yet widespread, and especially not in Arkansas, so all of the washing had to be done by hand on rub boards.

A large scowling woman marched up and down behind the workers with a blackjack in hand. If she thought they weren’t working hard enough or fast enough, she’d whack them across the shoulders.

During this time, my mom fell ill with Scarlet Fever and they quarantined her. They kept her in a room under lock and key. My worried dad climbed to her window with food. It became apparent that they had to get out of there, or Mom would die. One night when all was quiet, she tied bedsheets together and lowered herself from the two-story window to the ground, where Dad waited.

They caught a ride to Oklahoma on the back of a flatbed truck, and Mom eventually recovered. They never went back to Fort Smith, Arkansas.

As the years passed, much of my dad’s family migrated to California, the land of milk and honey. But Mom and Dad didn’t go with them due to my grandmother’s failing health, and a younger sister who was inseparable from my mom. They all stuck together. My grandmother passed away in 1942 in Roswell, New Mexico. Pictures show a large goiter on her throat. She died long before I was born.

Mom gave birth to my siblings with help from family and friends. I was the only one to arrive in a hospital setting.

By 1951, the year I was born, Mom and Dad had settled in Hobbs, New Mexico, and purchased a lot on Avenue A. They stretched their tent and immediately started building a house. They put down roots and said goodbye to the transient life they’d known.

Like everything else in their lives, they built our house themselves. A place not too far from Hobbs, The Caprock, had an abundance of large flat rocks. Every day Dad wasn’t working, he’d head up and bring back a load of rocks to cover the sides of the house. That house withstood many storms, and still stands today.

When I was around twelve, I distinctly remember watching Mom climb up and down a ladder with bundles of shingles to roof the house. And she did this alone.

I believe I can declare with all certainty that no two people worked harder than my mom and dad.

Mom was a fantastic cook, having learned from necessity at a young age. She had a sweet tooth and loved to bake. Her specialty was pies. She could make a peach cobbler that would melt in your mouth.

She never measured anything. She’d throw in a handful of this and a pinch of that, and it turned out perfectly every time.

Mom was not a worrier. Her philosophy was, “If I can’t fix it, there’s no need to waste time worrying about it.”

I’ve strived to adopt that same philosophy.

She lived by these seven wisdoms:

1. Count your blessings every day.

2. Don’t whine or throw a fit if things don’t go your way.

3. Take whatever trials God sees fit to give you and make the best of it. Never sit down and give up.

4. Believe in yourself and your dreams, and they’ll come true.

5. Love life and live for God.

6. Hard work never killed anyone. Try your best and don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t turn out the way you first thought.

7. Treat everyone with dignity and respect.

I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my mom, as you know if you’ve read my books. But I never forgot her teachings, her strength, and her determination. And for the last thirty years of her life, we were close.

She was the best grandmother my two little girls ever could have hoped for. She adored them as much as they loved her.

I watch my daughters now and see them practice some of Mom’s ways with their own children, and it makes me happy.

So, here’s to my mom - the strongest woman I ever knew.

Thursday, May 7, 2020

Welcome to Day 2 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! #RRBC #RWISA #RWISARiseUp

Welcome to Day 2 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! Each day, I will be featuring an amazing RWISA author and a piece he/she has written to focus on one of our two themes: A World Without Mom and/or How Living in This New World Has Change Me. Today's author is DL Finn.

MISTY MOUNTAIN MOMENT

It flows quietly on a breeze

Covering the landscape in its presence.

The world simplifies at that moment

While the mountain mist intensifies.

Its threatening chill keeps us indoors

Watching…

Waiting…

Worrying…

How long will it eliminate color from our world?

Yet, we’re securely tucked away inside.

We have a full stomach.

A place to sleep… others don’t.

Some live outside in this mountain mist

Trying to survive.

We offer what we can... from a safe distance.

As we head back to our protected lives

Suddenly, we get a glimpse past the monochrome.

Then we remember that a dreary gray mountain moment

Does not subdue the light that shines within all of us.

GONE

Gone is my freedom as I shelter at home.

Gone is abundant supplies; I must get in line to shop.

Gone are family gatherings, events, and appointments.

Gone is the income from those deemed non-essential.

Gone is the guarantee they will be helped.

This is all replaced by a new world.

Where procuring toilet paper is a reason to celebrate.

Where putting my wants over someone’s safety is a priority.

Where people risk their lives to save others.

Where people do without, perhaps for the first time.

Where learning how to make what used to be available.

Yes, so much has changed and is gone—for now.

My hope is this new insight and caring…

Stays long after everything that is gone, returns

And things go back to a new compassionate normal.

STORM

A storm tore through our world unseen

But we felt its presence as hospitals filled.

We tried to wash it off and hide from it

Yet, it kept coming.

Finally, we headed into the storm shelter

Only venturing out for food…

Unless we were needed to fight this storm.

So many heroes raced into the chaos

Sadly, some did not make it back home.

While the rest of us waited in our safety

Grateful for what we had

Worried for what we did not.

Here we wait for that sunny day

When the storm fades away,

And we return to normal again

Armed with a new understanding…

Of how fragile our existence is.

Something the wise won’t ever forget.

Welcome #RRBC May “Spotlight” #Authors, Breakfield & Burkey @enigmaseries #RRBCSA #RRBC_Community

Hello, beautiful readers! Welcome to the #RRBC May "Spotlight" Authors blog tour! Today, I am sharing my space with authors Breakfield and Burkey!

Today, they will be sharing with you one of their adventures in writing their series. Take it away, you two! :-)

The craziest thing we’ve done in the name of research

Authors Breakfield and Burkey

Breakfield and Burkey began writing it white papers for advanced degrees and inside a technology manufacturer as a part of work. As subject matter experts we became responsible for writing and reviewing technical documentation. The problem was the geeks in the backroom thinking up the technology were thousands of miles away, in Ireland, Galway to be exact.

At that point in time email was the main mode of business communication outside of a phone call, but with a 6 hours’ time differential. We would get information overnight and then proceed to test or update certain areas. It was a fairly good system which also allowed us to start early in our day before the rest of our normal central time zone work began.

We developed a significant appreciation for the work involved in programming complex applications. Agile programming was in early adoption by many who had innovative views to the future. We also found out these Cowboys of Ireland had a passion for pubs and Guinness. They claim their best ideas happen in the pub, where they could just sit around and chat without interruption.

Exchanges of updates to the documentation continued in remote fashion for several months with little snippets of exchanges via phone. Burkey was always fond of the phone calls and kept notes. As was later discovered, her notes were all around their accents, words used in conversation different from the States, and humor, especially when they told stories. She kept this a secret until we used several of these characters in portions of book 4 in the series, The Enigma Wraith.

As the relationships expanded through several application versions, the respect between the programming team and Breakfield and Burkey, grew to the point where additional exchanges were needed. Toward that end, Breakfield was invited to go to Galway to attend as well as lead several technology discussions. It was quite an honor for Breakfield to make the trek to Galway.

Travel was fraught with missing luggage, yet gracious help from everyone his path crossed made it less grueling. Lush countryside, ablaze with color on the long drive from the airport to the location, was dotted with cottages, friendly people in small villages, farm animals, and lots of local pubs. Stops along the way allowed a feel for the people as greetings were as if Breakfield was an old friend. Little did Burkey know at that time how much of these exchanges Breakfield committed to memory.

As the teams met with Breakfield for lively discussion, just like mind melding between high speed modems, of ideas, thoughts and innovation the mutual admiration expanded tenfold. After work, the evenings continued between Breakfield and the lads at several pubs. It is necessary to visit different pubs for special food to compliment the ever-flowing Guinness. This only added to the research Breakfield too kept hidden until the locations were used in the series in multiple books.

Breakfield and Burkey have continued to leverage these professional, now personal friendships, even as people have shifted in their careers. Burkey still is convinced she wants to do more pub research in Ireland. Who knows if that will occur?

Take care – Breakfield and Burkey!

Breakfield and Burkey are the authors of the Enigma series. Pre-order your copy here.

Here is a little more information about them! :-)

Bio:

Breakfield, is a 25+ year technology expert in security, networking, voice and anything digital. He enjoys writing, studying World War II history, travel, and cultural exchanges. He’s also a fan of wine tastings, wine-making, Harley riding, cooking extravaganzas, and woodworking.

Burkey, a 25+ year applied technology professional who excels at optimizing technology and business investments for customers all over the world with a focus on optimized customer experiences. She writes white papers and documentation, but has a marked preference for fiction.

Together they create award-winning stories that resonate with males and females, young and experienced adults, and bring a fresh new view to technology possibilities today https://www.EnigmaBookSeries.com.

Social Media:

- Twitter handle: @EnigmaSeries and @1rburkey

- Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/TheEnigmaSeries/

- Website address: https://www.EnigmaBookSeries.com

Thanks for joining us today. Please enjoy the rest of their blog tour here.

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Welcome to Day 1 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! #RRBC #RWISA #RWISARiseUp

Welcome to Day 1 of the 2020 RWISA "RISE-UP" Blog Tour! Each day, I will be featuring an amazing RWISA author and a piece he/she has written to focus on one of our two themes: A World Without Mom and/or How Living in This New World Has Change Me. Today's author is Harriet Hodgson.

With Hands Clasped: Thoughts of the Pandemic

By Harriet Hodgson

As COVID-19 spread across the land, Americans were directed to stay home. This news led to all sorts of questions. What will we do for entertainment? How will we teach the kids? Will we run out of food? As weeks passed, many Americans felt confined, even imprisoned. Not me. A freelancer for 38+ years, I was used to working at home.

My husband and I have been married for 62 years. “I love you more today than yesterday,” I often say. Staying home with him was a blessing. Pulitzer Prize winner Mary Oliver, in one of her poems, uses the phrase “with hands clasped.” I lived her words with hands clasped in memory, in caregiving, in creativeness, in gratefulness, and in hope.

In memory . . .

When World War II started, I was four years old. COVID-19 made me anxious and scared. These feelings caused war memories to become vivid again: food rationing, gas rationing, digging potatoes in our Victory Garden, Mom working in a wartime factory, and air raid blackouts. Odd that a pandemic would cause memories to resurface, yet a world war and world virus are similar. Many experts compared fighting the virus to a war, one we would win.

In caregiving . . .

I have cared for three generations of family members. This is my 23^rd year in the caregiving trenches. In 2013 my husband’s aorta dissected and he had three emergency operations. When he woke up, he was paraplegic, unable to use his lower body or legs. The night I drove him to the hospital, I became his caregiver, and believe caregiving is love in action. Retired doctors and nurses rallied to fight COVID-19. I added virus protection to my caregiving To Do list.

In creativeness . . .

I have always been a creative person. While I sheltered at home, I revised two workbooks I wrote for grieving kids, edited a children’s picture book, explored doodle art, baked up a storm, and emailed publishers. So far, I have written thousands of articles and 38 books. Two publishers accepted the children’s books. Because of the pandemic, however, production of the grief books is on hold. The children’s picture book is still in production.

In gratefulness . . .

Americans are interdependent and need each other. COVID-19 showed that truckers, store clerks, housekeepers, home sewers, lab techs and countless others are heroes too. Staying home made me realize, yet again, that little things, such as the first robin of spring, are big things. As usual, I was grateful for my wacky sense of humor. (Yes, I laugh at my own jokes.)

Since I could not be physically close to others, I reached out in different ways. I sent surprise gifts to some, was a guest on blog talk radio, signed up for another show, posted book videos on social media, increased email to family members, gave books to friends and strangers. Though I am a kind person, I tried to be kinder, a lesson many learned from the virus. I also vowed to slow down a bit.

In hope . . .

I have survived cancer surgery and open-heart surgery. Each morning, when I awaken, I ask myself, “How can I make the most of the miracle of my life?” At age 84 I am still discovering pieces of my unknown self. Thanks to experience, I know how to adapt to the changes of life. I also know some changes are easy, and others test the soul.

Poet John O’Donohue, in his book To Bless the Space Between Us, refers to changes as thresholds. Thresholds can make emotions like confusion, fear, excitement, sadness, and hope come alive. It is wise to recognize and acknowledge thresholds, O’Donohue continues, and I have tried to do this.

The pandemic pushed America to a threshold, one that will define our nation. Let us cross this threshold together with kindness, dignity, and mutual respect. Let us cross with hands clasped in love.