A puzzling hobby ~ by Kristine Raymond

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved jigsaw puzzles.  Something about the myriad of colors and shapes fitting together precisely to form a picture is both enthralling and relaxing to me. 

In my teen years, jigsaw puzzles were a big part of my life.  While my classmates were at the movies or partying or whatever they were doing on Friday and Saturday nights, I was sprawled out on the floor of my bedroom listening to George Winston and Scott Cossu albums, patiently snapping cardboard shapes into place into the wee hours of the morning.  Excitement building as the image began to take shape, it wasn’t unheard of for me to finally crawl into bed at two or three in the morning, not wanting to stop but unable to keep my eyes open a moment longer.

Over the years, my interest in my hobby waned as full-time jobs and day-to-day life and a husband filled my time, though, on occasion, I’d still pick up a puzzle that caught my eye, one with kaleidoscope colors or peaceful scenery.  Not having the time or space to adequately pursue puzzling, boxes and Ziploc bags filled with jumbled pieces took up multiple dresser drawers in my closet.

When I began writing a little over five years ago, I found myself consumed with my craft, literally spending seven days a week at my desk working on some sort of book-related project – writing, proofing, designing covers or promotions, interacting on social media, writing blog posts – anything and everything you can imagine, and that pace slowly but surely caught up with me.  I decided I needed to break up my work day (or night) and shift gears now and again.  Focus on something I enjoyed that would still keep my mind active.  So, into the closet I went, randomly opening a drawer and withdrawing the first jigsaw puzzle I laid my hand on.  Since my office is a pet-free zone (well, it’s supposed to be, but that’s another post), I set out my mat on the table behind my desk and dumped all of those glossy pieces out of the box.                                                                                                          

Though my days of sprawling on the floor are behind me (waaay behind me!) my soul hasn’t forgotten how much it enjoys the satisfying sound of interlocking pieces clicking into place or the slow, yet steady, emergence of a picturesque scene.  When my mind gets bogged down or the words won’t come, I swivel around in my chair and spend a few minutes sorting colors or matching up odd shapes, the respite clearing my head, allowing my thoughts to flow freely, and I realize how much I've missed this hobby of mine.

 Now, how about a little Scott Cossu?

                                                                                                        

Our Guest Today is Author Nate Friedman

Welcome, Nate! We're so glad you're with us today!

Author Nate Friedman

Nate Friedman is a writer from Windsor, Ontario Canada. He graduated from the kinesiology program at the University of Windsor with a concentration in Sports Psychology. His education has fueled a keen interest in how people think and what drives them to be their best. 

Comedy is his first love. From Jim Henson’s Muppets to Walt Disney’s perfect cartooning, Nate's desire to be creative has directed him towards writing children’s literature. 

He enjoys reading to his nephews, two of his biggest fans. He has penned two Canadian Classics-- “The Coffee Monster” and his most recent book, “The Last Hockey Fight.” 

Fresh off his first book tour in Ontario, Nate eagerly awaits school visits and is always open to more events to spread the laughter and smiles – and blog takeovers, too 

"I hope everyone is being super creative- the only way to be grateful for what it is we do as readers and writers is….to do more of it!" he says.

Happy Reading,

Nate

“I want to change the world one smile at a time.”

You may connect with Nate at:

FACEBOOK

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

LINKEDIN

AMAZON

Stories From a Different Viewpoint ~ by Minnie Birch

Sharing stories has always been a big part of my life: from being read to as a child, weekly visits to Abbots Langley Library with my mum, collecting Saddle Club books in my early pre-teens, to working part time in a book shop, studying children’s literature at University, and then landing my dream job as a Young People’s Librarian. Alongside this, I also grew a passion for sharing stories in song and have been performing in bands and then as a solo artist since I was 13. 

When I was 21, I heard about the Charity ‘Storybook Dads’. The charity helps to keep imprisoned parents in touch with their children through the magic of Storytelling. I wanted to get involved and contacted my local prison to volunteer my services. 

The then Librarian, Sue Rickard, said they didn’t have a Storybook Dads project but if I wanted, I could set one up. I hadn’t been in a prison before and I hadn’t set up a small charity project before but I said yes. (I think that’s one of the great things about being 21! Not really questioning how sensible a choice is, or if you really have the time and capacity for something and just saying ‘yes’ and hoping it will work out.) With a lot of help from Sue, I was able to get the project up and running and we’ve now been going for over 10 years! 

So, what do we do? Well, we help parents in prison record bedtime stories and messages for their children. We help men choose stories, support them with their reading where needed, edit the recordings by taking out any mistakes and background noises, and adding some fun sound effects. 

For many families, these CDs are a lifeline that help heal rifts and build vital family relationships. It shows the children they are loved and missed. It helps prisoners feel valued as parents and gives them the opportunity to have a positive impact on their children’s lives.

The project is currently run by myself and is supported by an amazing volunteer named Chris, who comes in weekly to work with the men and another volunteer, Matt, who visits us once a month to help us with the back log of editing. 

These two are a lifeline to the project, kindly giving of their free time, and I am very fortunate to have them on board – it is not always an easy place to work and their flexibility and enthusiasm is vital to keeping things going.

Every year in the UK, 200,000 children experience the imprisonment of a parent. It often leads to shame, guilt, and isolation, resulting in failure at school. These children are three times more prone to mental health problems than their peers. Keeping in contact can be difficult from behind bars; prisoners may be held long distances from their families. Those that maintain contact are up to 6 times less likely to re-offend.

In 2018, 116 men took part in our project. That is something I am incredibly proud of because it has been achieved in a landscape where resources to get things done in prisons are extremely low and, in truth, we have struggled to keep ourselves going. We receive some lovely feedback from the families involved and that’s the incentive to keep trying to find new ways to make this work. We are looking forward to delivering more sessions in 2019. 

If you are interested in listening to one of the recorded stories, please click HERE

To find out more about the charity click HERE

Of course, as a musician when I heard there was a music class taking place in the prison I went to have a nose around…fast forward a few years and I am now also involved in music sessions and music tech classes…but that’s perhaps a story for another blog.

 Glitter courtesy of YouTube

Minnie writes dark, plaintive, beautiful music about life, love, adventures, and fairy tales. Following slots supporting Joan Armatrading and a stint at Edinburgh fringe, Minnie has been wooing audiences all over the place with tours in Iceland, America, Europe, and all over the U.K under her belt. Her debut album received national airplay on BBC Radio 2, BBC 6 Music, and on BBC Radio 1 as Huw Stephen’s Introducing Artist of the Week.

"Her riveting and sometimes shocking lyrics are getting the recognition they deserve."  --Time Out Magazine

"Minnie is quite the wordsmith, knowing not just when to sing, but when to leave phrases hanging to concentrate on the meaning. Silence can say so much and Minnie knows how to use it, almost as an instrument to contrast against not only what is being sung, but what is being played."   --FATEA Magazine

                                                                                                           

 

Conquer a Fear – Try Scuba Diving! ~ by Kim Hornsby

When I first thought about trying scuba diving, I had two emotions—terror and wonderment.

I’m an avid swimmer, lifeguarded during high school, but also saw the movie Jaws and didn’t go in freshwater lakes for years after that. Also, I’m a wee bit claustrophobic and wondered if the pressure of all that water on top of me would trigger something that made me want to rush to the surface for fresh air. Rushing up is a big no-no in diving.

Turned out, I loved it. And the feeling was the polar opposite to being closed in. I felt like I was flying. Slowly flying through a dense medium, but suspended and free from gravity and the need for feet to propel me forward.

My first dive off Nassau was spent trying to gain neutral buoyancy and keep up with the group because the instructor had given me too much weight to keep under, but the distraction of swimming alongside fish and floating through coral gardens was not lessened by pushing off the sand every few minutes. 

I went on to dive off Maui on a vacation in my mid-twenties and loved it so much that I signed up to take my dive certification class over the next five days. It’s a crash course they offer in resort areas where you can cancel all other planned activities to stay wet for five days learning how to dive safely. I then went home (which was British Columbia, Canada) and took the courses needed to become a Dive Master. Diving in dark, frigid water was much different from the turquoise, clear waters of Hawaii but it made me a better diver. And gave me an appreciation of diving in a shorty wetsuit with no hood or legs!

Then, I quit my job and moved to Maui to take my instructor course and work as a dive instructor. I ended up certifying hundreds of students, making over five thousand dives in eleven years and loving almost every minute of it. I say almost because I did have some moments I could have done without like being on a sinking dive boat in the middle of the ocean, getting trapped inside a dark cave with a shark and having a student lose a finger when his wedding ring caught on the boat handrail and he jumped into the water. Even writing that last sentence makes me cringe.

I did see sharks down there, and they had no interest in me as another large sea creature. I swam with dolphins, saw Humpback whales, had an octopus suction on to my bare armpit, dove caverns, caves, went on night dives with an underwater light, and ran a successful business called Kimberley’s Scubadventures. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

In my bestselling book The Dream Jumper’s Promise, the hero is a dive instructor on Maui and has a fear of the ocean after her husband goes missing while surfing. She can’t teach or even go on her dive boat. When an old boyfriend shows up with a strange way to help, she must decide if she trusts him enough to allow him back in to her life. There are lots of diving scenes in the book and I’ve been told it’s quite thrilling to read them.

Write what you know, and I know diving. 

Was it good to push past my fear of being under the water to try diving? Absolutely! It opened a whole new world to me and led me to the fantastic life I now lead, even if I only dive on vacation twice a year now like in these photos of me diving last year at the Cathedral Caverns off Lanai, Hawaii. Conquering fear is a wonderful way to feel good about yourself. And as I always say to my daughter who is very fearful of many things, “It’s not brave if you aren’t fearful in the first place.”

Do you have something on your bucket list you want to try but haven’t because of fear? Tell us…

Visit my page to learn more about Dreams Jumper's Promise and all my books

A Much Kinder Time Part 2~ by Grace Augustine

   

Oh my goodness, the antics and stories these halls could tell if only they could talk! See that second window, first floor, on the right side of the main door? That was my Sophomore English class room...where a male student (who shall remain nameless) dropped another male student out the window for "continuously bugging" him. The dropped student suffered a broken arm. Just last year it was revealed to me, by the culprit, the real reason for the incident as well as who did the dropping...yet the accused still takes the blame today. I'm sworn to secrecy.

Not having kids or grands in high school, I'm not sure of the current protocol of classes. In the 70's we had a class president, vice-president, secretary, and treasurer. We built amazing floats from chicken wire over vehicles and spent the week of homecoming, at secret locations, stuffing colored napkins into said chicken wire, hoping our float would win. The Homecoming King and Queen nominees rode on the class floats and winners were announced at half-time of the football game. It was an honor to win. My class won a couple years in a row because of a team of architecturally minded builders who created marvelous floats. (This was one of the winners.)

Upon graduation, any left over class funds were transferred to the next class. Our president and staff decided that wasn't going to be a happening thing...so, our class purchased this...which still stands on the grounds today. Our mascot...the CBHS Wolf. My class graduated over 100 students.

One of the most unfortunate circumstances for my class, the class of 1974, was the fact that many of our classes were held in army trailers due to the fire that destroyed the beautiful glass and all wood interior gymnasium.  Classrooms, trophies and other memorabilia were gone in the blink of an eye. We were the only class in CBHS history to go all 4 years without a gymnasium.

This structure held many district and state basketball championship games as well as state wrestling matches. I lived 3 blocks from the school and stood in the alley-way, along with all of the neighborhood, weeping over this loss. The fire was so intense it was seen 25 miles away. Fire departments from all of the surrounding communities fought this blaze.

In the dead of the winter months, our Physical Education classes consisted of playing table tennis in the Army trailers or walking to the bowling alley to spend 45 minutes bowling, only to walk back in the sub-zero temperatures and knee-deep snow. You can see a couple of the trailers in this photo.

We had yearbooks...or annuals...that outlined sport successes, FFA, Spanish Club, Home Ec, Shop, Band, Choir, and many other school organizations. It also had photos of every person in each class as well as photos of all the teachers.  It was fun to ask classmates and teachers to "sign" your annual.  It's even more fun reading what was written now, some 44 years later. I smile and wonder where some classmates are, and fondly remember those who've already passed on.

To say it was a much kinder time is an understatement. Cut Bank was an oil and gas rich community with good, hardworking people raising families. In 1974, approximately 6,300 people lived in this thriving town that is the gateway to the Blackfeet Indian Reservation and Glacier National Park, as well as being only a hop away from Canada...literally. 

Today, nearly 3,000 call Cut Bank home. Many of the businesses I knew and frequented are no longer there, but many new ones have taken their places. I encourage you to take a trip West on Highway 2 (it's the Main Street of Cut Bank) and experience all the state of Montana has to offer. And visit the amazing Glacier National Park. I guarantee it is one place you will never forget.

You can read part 1 Here.