K.B. Inglee's Blog: The Shepherd's Notes, page 19
June 6, 2011
The Bird Bottle
On a trip to Williamsburg I fell in love with the bird bottles on some of the buildings. Birds seemed to like them, too.
I didn’t have enough spare cash to buy one and didn’t much want to carry it around all day. I could order one from the catalogue later. Like most things I put off, I never got around to ordering one.
A bird bottle is a red ware jug about a foot high with the bottom cut out. If you sit it on its bottom, it looks like a jar, but it is meant to be hung. The top becomes the side opening. After you hang it, you can insert a stick for a perch.
My friend has one by his back door with a wren family in it.
While searching for wool sweaters at Goodwill, I found a perfectly intact bird bottle for fifty cents.
The clerk warned me that the bottom was broken out of it. I started to explain why it wasn’t broken, but her eyes glazed over, so I gave up and took my bottle home.
It stayed empty on the north wall of my garage for two years. One morning there was a stick inside it. The next morning two more. For the past three years we have had a family of wrens make their home there. This year I cleaned out all the sticks, washed out and re-hung the bottle I had given up on the family returning but this morning I saw the head poking out and sure enough they brought new sticks and are back in residence.
I didn’t have enough spare cash to buy one and didn’t much want to carry it around all day. I could order one from the catalogue later. Like most things I put off, I never got around to ordering one.
A bird bottle is a red ware jug about a foot high with the bottom cut out. If you sit it on its bottom, it looks like a jar, but it is meant to be hung. The top becomes the side opening. After you hang it, you can insert a stick for a perch.
My friend has one by his back door with a wren family in it.
While searching for wool sweaters at Goodwill, I found a perfectly intact bird bottle for fifty cents.
The clerk warned me that the bottom was broken out of it. I started to explain why it wasn’t broken, but her eyes glazed over, so I gave up and took my bottle home.
It stayed empty on the north wall of my garage for two years. One morning there was a stick inside it. The next morning two more. For the past three years we have had a family of wrens make their home there. This year I cleaned out all the sticks, washed out and re-hung the bottle I had given up on the family returning but this morning I saw the head poking out and sure enough they brought new sticks and are back in residence.
May 30, 2011
Naming the Lambs
We had our last lamb of the season two days ago, and she is sooooo cute. All lambs are cute but some more so than others. I need to figure out how to put photos on this blog. I have become a coinsure of newborn lambs. This year we had a good crop, all cute. This little girl won’t get a name, but she will end up with some nickname like, Late or May.
Justin and Jenny, the only ones who got real names this year, were named for the vets who saved their mother’s life. They are our two bottle babies and doing well.
The first time I had to give them their bottles, I dragged myself down the stairs with a bottle in each hand dreading, not the experience of feeding them, but the tedium of having to do it twice a day forever.
Once they were firmly clamped to the nipples and making sucky sounds, I was hooked.
Then I discovered that everybody loves to feed them. If anyone is on the property they rush up and beg for the chance. I took them to school one day so the kids could do it. I am considering taking them up the hill to the nursing home to let the residents feed them.
Late last week they started to put the bottles aside for hay and grain and now I have to wait for them to get around to the milk. Soon they will be off it altogether. I am not sure if I am happy about this or not. I like them not being dependent on me. I like not laying out the money for Save-A-Lamb. But it is wonderful when they run to me as soon as my car pulls in.
Justin and Jenny, the only ones who got real names this year, were named for the vets who saved their mother’s life. They are our two bottle babies and doing well.
The first time I had to give them their bottles, I dragged myself down the stairs with a bottle in each hand dreading, not the experience of feeding them, but the tedium of having to do it twice a day forever.
Once they were firmly clamped to the nipples and making sucky sounds, I was hooked.
Then I discovered that everybody loves to feed them. If anyone is on the property they rush up and beg for the chance. I took them to school one day so the kids could do it. I am considering taking them up the hill to the nursing home to let the residents feed them.
Late last week they started to put the bottles aside for hay and grain and now I have to wait for them to get around to the milk. Soon they will be off it altogether. I am not sure if I am happy about this or not. I like them not being dependent on me. I like not laying out the money for Save-A-Lamb. But it is wonderful when they run to me as soon as my car pulls in.
May 23, 2011
King of Spoilers
When I bring a new book into the house I have to hide it to make sure I read it first. My husband is a fast reader and can finish it before I am even ready to pick it up. I am very slow and he will stare at me until I finally hand it to him. You’d think it would be wise to give him first crack. The drawback is that if he has read it he is compelled to tell me about it. I had pulled out Who Wrote the Book of Death by Steve Liskow, and made the mistake of leaving it in the bathroom. I was on chapter two. By then end of the day, he had told me who did it and why. “OK, so now I don’t have to read it?” I asked. “It is well written and interesting so you should read it anyway.”
Sometimes his interpretation of a book is far far from mine. He has describes scenes that aren’t’ acutely in the book, or attribute motives to a character that I don’t see. I spend all my reading time distracted by trying to find his version, or fit what I read into what he has told me about the book.
I knew Kaye George’s book Choke had arrived when I heard a thump on the porch and our terrier trying to protect the house from the USPS by tearing the front door down. You can bet Choke is now hiding in one of my knitting bags where he will never find it.
Sometimes his interpretation of a book is far far from mine. He has describes scenes that aren’t’ acutely in the book, or attribute motives to a character that I don’t see. I spend all my reading time distracted by trying to find his version, or fit what I read into what he has told me about the book.
I knew Kaye George’s book Choke had arrived when I heard a thump on the porch and our terrier trying to protect the house from the USPS by tearing the front door down. You can bet Choke is now hiding in one of my knitting bags where he will never find it.
May 9, 2011
making kids think
When I work with school kids, I use a Socratic method of question and answer. Someone in the group usually knows the answer. What I care about is that the kids think about the question and figure out the answer. I sometimes get very strange responses.
This week I asked each class what a cooper does. From several groups, adults included, I got, “He takes care of the chickens.” How logical. A cooper is in charge of the chicken coop. I love answers like this because they show the person is thinking about the question I ask, and working it to the logical conclusion.
I’m not sure kids are taught how to think, and the only way I can tell if they are thinking is if they construct a logical but wrong answer.
There is lots about an old mill and house that are open to many interpretations, because there are lots of things kids haven’t seen before. Bed warmers are popcorn poppers. Un-ground nutmegs are acorns. Those bits of crockery under the beds have many uses I never suspected possible.
In my humble way, I hope I am making creative writers and scientists out of every kid who comes through.
This week I asked each class what a cooper does. From several groups, adults included, I got, “He takes care of the chickens.” How logical. A cooper is in charge of the chicken coop. I love answers like this because they show the person is thinking about the question I ask, and working it to the logical conclusion.
I’m not sure kids are taught how to think, and the only way I can tell if they are thinking is if they construct a logical but wrong answer.
There is lots about an old mill and house that are open to many interpretations, because there are lots of things kids haven’t seen before. Bed warmers are popcorn poppers. Un-ground nutmegs are acorns. Those bits of crockery under the beds have many uses I never suspected possible.
In my humble way, I hope I am making creative writers and scientists out of every kid who comes through.
May 2, 2011
April, oh April. Finally over
Several years ago I retired. As one of my family members says no one in our family retires. I work part time at a museum, volunteer at another, and write. These three taken together are more than a full time job. April is always the hardest month. School groups start spring field trips. Sheep are sheered. And story deadlines come up one after the other. Oh, taxes have to be done as well.
This month I managed to finish my taxes, submit two short stories, volunteer 90 hours and work 14-24 hours a week. The problem is that I love doing it all—ok not the taxes.
I was sorry to disappoint my thousand or so readers last week by not getting my blog up but, something had to go.
This month I managed to finish my taxes, submit two short stories, volunteer 90 hours and work 14-24 hours a week. The problem is that I love doing it all—ok not the taxes.
I was sorry to disappoint my thousand or so readers last week by not getting my blog up but, something had to go.
April 20, 2011
Life Imitates Art
In a fit of anger, I pushed a fictional character down a flight of stairs onto a flagstone floor in the lower barn where the sheep are. She was killed and her body was left where no one could identify her. You can read the results in “Sleeping with the Fish” in Fish Tales, a Guppy Anthology.
I am a visual writer so you can bet that the beds, clothing, stairs and fish nets in my stories are ones I have seen.
Yesterday I was carrying a section of metal fence, five bars with three uprights, not more than ten pounds, down the same stairs. I missed the bottom step and fell onto the flagstones, actually a cement apron, with the fence on top of me. Nothing broken but tore up some soft tissue in my foot.
So for the next few days I am forced into writers position, butt in chair, hands on keyboard.
April 11, 2011
Deadlines
A deadline is a fence on the inside of the perimeter of a prison camp. Anyone who crosses the line will be shot dead.
Fortunately no one shoots writers who miss deadlines, but it is an advantage to be known as someone who always submits on time.
Several years ago I contracted with a publisher to write a workbook on Westward Expansion and I was going to be late late late. It was about half done and I had many more hours of work. I was stressed out over not being able to meet the obligation. At the last second I was saved because the company decided they could not use it. I was never so glad to have had something turned down.
The story I am working on now will be ready at the last minute. I know where I am going with it but I can’t seem to get there.
I like working to a deadline. In this case it may be close but I will finish it on time, because that added pressure gets the sub-conscious working. One morning I will wake up knowing how the story is going to get where it needs to go.
Fortunately no one shoots writers who miss deadlines, but it is an advantage to be known as someone who always submits on time.
Several years ago I contracted with a publisher to write a workbook on Westward Expansion and I was going to be late late late. It was about half done and I had many more hours of work. I was stressed out over not being able to meet the obligation. At the last second I was saved because the company decided they could not use it. I was never so glad to have had something turned down.
The story I am working on now will be ready at the last minute. I know where I am going with it but I can’t seem to get there.
I like working to a deadline. In this case it may be close but I will finish it on time, because that added pressure gets the sub-conscious working. One morning I will wake up knowing how the story is going to get where it needs to go.
April 7, 2011
Rejection
The hardest part of being a writer for most of us is the constant rejection. To help desensitize unpublished writers, one writers’ group runs The Queen of Rejection contest to recognize members who receive the most rejection notices between January 1 and April Fools Day. The last two winners received over 90 rejections.
Writer send out the children of their hearts into the cold world where some editor may or may not read the submission. The result most often is a form letter saying “not for us.” If we are lucky we get that form letter with a personal note scribbled at the bottom; something like “enjoyed the story; think of us in the future.”
Rarely writers get letters explaining why the story wasn’t chosen.
These all come back in stamped self addressed envelopes. When I see my hand writing I know it is a rejection. More and more often this is done on line. Though I have been published, I don’t have a single letter to prove it.
I once received three rejections from one agent for a single novel. The first didn’t want my story of the Russian Mob. I didn’t know I had written one. When I wrote to tell them, wrong author, they responded “sorry but you are rejected anyway.” Next came the rejection I was supposed to get in the first place.
Back in the days when we sent out manuscripts and expected to get them back, I found cookie crumbs on the third to last page, so I know the agent read pretty far into it before saying no.
So how many rejections did I get this year? Three, but I am still waiting to hear from three more, one that I sent out in August. Yesterday I got “We really enjoyed ‘The Devil’s Quote.’ Thanks.!” You can bet that gang will get another submission from me this week.
Writer send out the children of their hearts into the cold world where some editor may or may not read the submission. The result most often is a form letter saying “not for us.” If we are lucky we get that form letter with a personal note scribbled at the bottom; something like “enjoyed the story; think of us in the future.”
Rarely writers get letters explaining why the story wasn’t chosen.
These all come back in stamped self addressed envelopes. When I see my hand writing I know it is a rejection. More and more often this is done on line. Though I have been published, I don’t have a single letter to prove it.
I once received three rejections from one agent for a single novel. The first didn’t want my story of the Russian Mob. I didn’t know I had written one. When I wrote to tell them, wrong author, they responded “sorry but you are rejected anyway.” Next came the rejection I was supposed to get in the first place.
Back in the days when we sent out manuscripts and expected to get them back, I found cookie crumbs on the third to last page, so I know the agent read pretty far into it before saying no.
So how many rejections did I get this year? Three, but I am still waiting to hear from three more, one that I sent out in August. Yesterday I got “We really enjoyed ‘The Devil’s Quote.’ Thanks.!” You can bet that gang will get another submission from me this week.
March 31, 2011
Lamb Stew
I usually do my online work first thing in the morning but for the last few days I have not wanted to look at an email, read or write a blog, keep up with my online friends. This is lambing season, and while I am busy, that isn’t what is keeping me off line. Maybe this is a vacation from being a writer.
My new short story is out and I have not ordered a copy of the book yet. I have a short story due by the end of April that I have started five time and each time tossed out what I had done. I have faith that little bits of each start will finally contribute to the final story. Like a stew. I just hope it comes together in time.
Though I have not done so, you can order my short story from the anthology Fish Tales put out by Wildside Press. The cover is wonderful.
http://www.wildsidebooks.com/Fish-Tal...
My new short story is out and I have not ordered a copy of the book yet. I have a short story due by the end of April that I have started five time and each time tossed out what I had done. I have faith that little bits of each start will finally contribute to the final story. Like a stew. I just hope it comes together in time.
Though I have not done so, you can order my short story from the anthology Fish Tales put out by Wildside Press. The cover is wonderful.
http://www.wildsidebooks.com/Fish-Tal...
March 21, 2011
My Latest short out soon
Shorter than usual today. Lambing is upon us.
My latest story to be published will be out soon. Sleeping with the Fish will appear in Fish Tales. Look it up:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Fish-Ta...
More on this later.
KB
My latest story to be published will be out soon. Sleeping with the Fish will appear in Fish Tales. Look it up:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Fish-Ta...
KB
The Shepherd's Notes
Combining Living History and writing historical mysteries.
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