Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

June 26, 2006

Today’s announcements

I hope your Father's Day was as meaningful as ours was.  Mark's Dad is doing great!  And he feels so blessed.  We all do!

The most recent news on Mel's progress is that he is not having to use his oxygen tank except when he goes to bed.  He is walking 15 minutes a day back and forth around his decking at home.  He will be able to start driving as soon as he gets his eye glasses fitted, and life for him has taken on a whole new meaning.  He sounded like a new man on the phone this weekend, and he was so appreciative of the cards and photos we've sent him, not to mention all the prayers that many of you said on his behalf.  Nothing beats the feeling of knowing you are loved, does it?  Well, that is all for now, and I hope you enjoy the sentiment that comes with this beautiful attachment.  There is no doubt that we surely DO believe! 

God Bless you all!  Love, Mark, Ginger and Family 

Another reason to kick back, throw off my shows, and order up a tall cool glass of ice tea.  Ahhhhhh.  Ya right.  As if I have enough time to sip a cool one without working as quickly as I can with my hands now...LOL

I'm so blessed.  One of my newly acquainted friends has invited me to join her team and write for a new magazine she is developing.  What a hoot!  God is really up to something here and I'm going to give Him all the Praise and Glory.

Thank you Hart and Helen for your prayers, support, and lovely words of encouragement.  My by-line or whatever you call it will be headed "Down To Earth" and I'm going to be writing for the great "Maggie the Magpie" better known as Mags to her friends.  I'm so excited I can hardly express my excitement.  Is that an oxymoron?  Or am I just Being a Moron...LOL

God is So Good!  Keep up the Great work you both do for So many...

love,

Paula Booher

Now onto the good stuff!

Animal awareness series, endorsed by Shiloh and Hank Baker our mascots; all stories must be endorsed by these very special dogs.

The Meanest Snake Ever

Dianna Doles Petry    

Courtney, my Goddaughter, spent the afternoon and evening with me. The weather was perfect, neither hot nor cold, and the field across from my home looked perfect for taking a nice long walk. Just a couple of weeks ago the field was full of saplings, weeds, rabbits, birds, squirrels, etc. Now it is barren of all but the occasional small pine or bush scattered throughout. The field has been sold, heavy equipment has been moved in and the nature habitat has been bulldozed away.

"Nana," Courtney said, "Let's go 'sploring over there and see what it's like up close."

"Okay, there's no reason not to do that," I replied, "It's not posted yet and I am curious to see if our path to the river has been covered up."

So we were off, a middle-aged woman with an inner child eager to explore and a child eager to find a big mudhole to step into while we were on this short adventure.

At first, we cut directly across the field towards the path I always used to get to the river. Courtney pointed out some broken glass, some bottle tops and a couple of very strange "balloons", the type she had never seen before. I quickly diverted her attention to the path, still there and usable with just a little bit of extra effort. She wasn't sure she wanted to go down the hill to the riverbank but I assured her that it would be fun. "Just watch me and follow my steps," I urged.

We were about half-way down the hill when Courtney lost her footing and came rolling down between my legs as if she was a human bowling ball. I grabbed for a limb that was hanging over the path but it only slowed my fall a bit. Courtney had come to a stop and was standing there brushing the dirt off of her jeans when my backside hit the path and my body went into a downhill slide. I passed by her and made it all the way to the bottom of the path before I could stop. She was laughing so hard that she could not walk and I stood up and ran after her. She ran up the hill with me pretending to be growling and swatting at her backside. (I was actually breathing so hard that it sounded like growling!)

After we got to the top of the hill and caught our breath, we agreed to walk on flat ground for a while. As we walked along, Courtney chatted away happily and we both started to skip. Just ahead of us, I could see a green snake lying in the road but I could also tell that it was dead. I allowed Courtney to get pretty close to it before I said, "Courtney, you need to pay attention. If a snake starts to slither up your pants leg I'm going to leave you here. Don't you run towards me with that thing either!"

She giggled just as she stepped over the snake and with one leg in mid air, stopped to ask, "Is this snake dead?"

Now for those of you who know me, you are aware of the fact that I loathe snakes. I do not like any of them and I don't care if they are poisonous or not! There is never room for me and a snake in the same county! I had to laugh at her this time though since I knew the snake was dead.

"I hope so," I laughed, "Or it's going to reach up and bite you."

She got past the snake and wiped her brow with the back of her hand as though it had been really hard work. We continued to walk for a pretty good way and then, since we didn't have long until the sun would go down, we started back. This is where the fun comes into the story.

We had made it back to just about the spot where the dead green snake was lying in the road. Again, Courtney was slightly ahead of me and chattering away about her plans for the summer, the neighborhood, school, etc. I saw another snake just ahead of her and yelled out for her to stop. She laughed at me and said, "Nana, it's dead, duh!"

As she started to step over the dead snake that was there earlier, a very much alive snake slithered right past her foot and across the road. All I could see was that it was dark in color, not a green snake like the other one. I shrieked, "Shyster, Courtney, it's a live snake."

She was already past it and turned to say, "Well, I didn't see it."

Now, apparently I had screamed a bit loudly because across the railroad tracks and the highway I saw a man head for his yard, jump on an ATV and head up the railroad tracks towards us. Dust was flying, he was standing up to balance himself and Courtney was bent over trying to see if she could see anymore of the snake.

The four wheeler slide in sideways beside of us and the man jumped off of the machine demanding to know where the snake was. Courtney pointed towards the ditch line between the railroad and the field we were standing in.

"Well, how big was it?" He inquired.

Courtney looked at me with her big brown eyes and waited for my answer. "Oh, it was a pretty good size." I said, in a tone that made it appear that I wanted to keep the child from being frightened.

"Well, I don't want it to get away. Was it a copperhead or a rattler?" He was doing a little shuffle kind of gait around the ATV while looking at the ditch line. I knew he was planning an attack that would have put Rambo to shame.

"I'm pretty sure that he's gone now." I tried to convince the man to give up the search without confessing that I have shoe laces that are thicker than that snake was.

Not to be outdone, he grabbed a stick from the side of the machine and began to beat around in the weeds. A bird flew out at him, he went backwards and as his backside hit the ground, the little snake took the opportunity to race right across his foot and get out of the area. He was still holding the stick and hit at the snake, missing it and hitting his own ankle instead.

This time it was him that let out a yell. Another neighbor came running to see what in the world was happening. Courtney was laughing again, all of the neighborhood dogs were barking and curtains were being parted in every house around here.

As the other neighbor got there, he asked what had happened. I started to tell him when I was interrupted. "Ed, will you forget about that snake and get me to the hospital, I think my dang ankle is broken. Why that bad boy is probably in the next county by now. He was HUGE!! I hit him with this club and it didn't even stun him I tell ya!"

Courtney and I came home just in time for her to greet her mother. I didn't even attempt to tell her what had happened. I think I'll just wait and pick up a copy of the "National Enquirer" next week. I'm sure that an Anaconda living in a field here in my hometown will make the front page!

©Dianna Doles Petry

4/25/2006

http://diannapetry.tripod.com
http://members.tripod.com/~poemsbydianna/PoetryofLife.html
www.womenwithauniquesoul.com

I am a lifelong resident of the state of West Virginia and the author of Memories...Stories of real life in the mountains.

I am a member of the West Virginia Writers and the West Virginia Poetry Society.

I very much enjoy sharing my short stories and poetry with others. My work tends to tell you the way it was, or is, or should be. I can sometimes be brutally honest and embarrassingly funny but it is the only way that I know how to share this journey through life with my readers.

I appreciate any and all feedback on my work.

dianna59@charter.net

Today’s Queue Stories

~**~**~

Poetry Section

~**~**~

Who Am I Really

Linda Ann Henry

Who am I really

For I do not know

No one told me

Yet whispers will grow

In this great big world

Am I one of a kind

Will I never have someone

To be very kind

Who am I really

Will the birds talk to me

Can I find butterflies

Up in a tree

Why do people look at me

In a strange way

Is there someone

To love me today

Who am I really

Why are my eyes blue

I am so tall

I think I am taller than you

Must my parents tell secrets

As I play outside

They do not know I hear them

They try to keep quiet

They really tried

Who am I really

I am shy and I dream

When grow-up's talk

I never understand what they mean

I read stories and feel I am there

I run in the garden and try not to care

I love the flowers, grass and bees

If only a mother or father

Would only love me.

Linda Ann Henry

Do you remember me

The people's poet

Linda11231949@aol.com

TO BE LOST IN ADOPTION IS SOMETHING WHICH IS CONFUSING, UNLOVED, AND WORSE OF ALL, NOT WANTED.

I FOUND OUT VERY LATE IN LIFE, AFTER JUST ABOUT ALL WHO WERE PART OF MY ADOPTION WERE DEAD,THE PAIN OF FINDING OUT YOU WERE TORN FROM YOUR MOTHER, WHETHER FOR GOOD REASON OR BAD, IS NOT IMPORTANT. BECAUSE YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW WHY AND SINCE YOUR ADOPTION RECORDS ARE SEALED, IT MAKES YOU UNCLEAN SOMEHOW.

I PAYED A GREAT PRICE. I WAS RAISED A CATHOIC IN A NON CATHOIC HOME. I WAS THE ONLY ONE WITH BLUE EYES. PEOPLE WOULD LOOK AT ME AND WHISPER. I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND WHY I WAS NOT LIKED. I ALWAYS FELT THEY KNEW SOMETHING I DID NOT KNOW. I CRIED AND MY MOTHER TOLD ME TO STOP CRYING OR SHE WOULD GIVE ME SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT. SO FROM THE AGE OF 8 UNTIL I WAS 50, I NEVER SHOWED MY TRUE FEELINGS.

I STARTED WRITING MY FEELING AND I FOUND MY LOVE FOR POETRY. I WANT TO HELP OTHERS. NOT JUST ADOPTEE BUT ANYONE WHO IS LOSS AND CANNOT HELP THEMSELVES. I BELIEVE MY PAIN WILL CONNECT WITH PEOPLE. I ANSWER EVERY E-MAIL.

I HAVE A SAYING I HEARD IN A MOVIE. LET NO MAN WRITE MY EPITAPH, UNTIL OTHER MEN AND OTHER TIMES DO ME JUSTICE.

~**~**~

God's Perfect Art

Linda Ann Henry

When God created us

He gave us a soul

There is not one of us the same

For God never repeats Himself

We were made in His image

In God's eyes we are His perfect art

Even when we do wrong

He forgives us

God sent HIS Son

So we can find Heaven

And go to eternity

When we look for love

Jesus opens His Heart

He takes us in

So we can feel His great love for us

Ever person, no matter how they believe

Jesus will give them a room

To Him we all are sinners

Yet He blesses us

We are special, in our own way

No one person can say what is right

Only Jesus can do that

So let us love our fellow man

As our solider do ever day

By caring for people

With different belief

God made us from His perfect art

He wants us to shake hands

So peace can live on all the lands

Once again.

Linda Ann Henry

Do you remember me

The people's poet

Linda11231949@aol.com

WE ARE ALL GOD'S PERFECT ART. WE ARE SPECIAL IN HIS EYES.

~**~**~

Remember the Day

Joan Clifton Costner

Remember the day (Oh, mother, please)
When you poured the tea ~ I sat on your knees?
The little black teapot, so shiny and new,
Was the means of a memory I have with you.

We had little cakes and sugar and cream
That didn’t come from the ice maker machine.
You set the table.  I sat the dolls.
We might as well been at a royal ball!

Remember the songs and the fleecy white clouds,
The green grass and flowers all around?
Remember the laughter, now turned to tears.
Time won’t allow us to turn back the years.

If I had a great big old rocking chair,
I’d say, "Come on honey, climb right up here."
I’d rock and I’d sing you a sweet lullaby
Until, like the dollies, you closed your eyes.

© 2005 by Joan Clifton Costner

jody@ptsi.net
http://underhiswings0.tripod.com
http://www.heavenlypoetry.com

April 23, 2006

Readers Feedback

Dear Mary,

I am writing Carol to thank you for your kind words.  I noticed you mentioned me to her in Storytime.  I don't know exactly what you read that pleased you so much but whatever it was your words really lifted my spirits.  I've not been feeling well this past few weeks and you just "Made My Day" when I read your sweet words.  So many are being so kind to me and I'm so humbled by their kindnesses.  God is very Good to bring to this place at this particular time.  Carol has been a Godsend and a Blessing beyond my wildest dreams.  Having a place to write is a dream come true for me.  To have So many people say so many wonderful things is just blowing me away.  I'm just a person in an ordinary life doing everyday things and suddenly the blessings of so many sweet people...

Ms. Mary Dees, I just had to write and tell you that I appreciate you but I don't have an email address.  I tried to get it through the archives section at Storytime but I had no success.  I'm hoping that Carol will post this at Storytime.  Your name keeps popping up in my head and apparently God is trying to connect us someway, somehow, someday...

If you see this please write to me.  I'd like to read some of your writing also.  Someone with such a kind heart must have some really wonderful things to read...And I love to read the wonderful writings of the delightful people that Carol has assembled at Storytime Tapestry.  What an amazing surprise from God He has assigned "For a time such as This!"

Totally Sincere,

Paula Deann (Roe) Honeycutt Booher

wrappednword@yahoo.com

Prayer Requests and Updates

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

                                     Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Booher, Paula; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria;

Dowd, Hartson; Dowd, Helen; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Gold, Ron; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Henry, Linda Ann; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Marlor, Janice Bumbalough; Mazzella, Joe; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator