Callen Kropp's Blog, page 2

Meet him while he's still local!

As the November Spotlight Author of the Moorhead Friends Writing Group, I feel it is high time I post a little about the group. It began some seven years ago with a handful of authors that met each week at the library in -- you guessed it! -- Moorhead, Minn. Today, the group includes some 40 authors from 13 states. Together, they have published almost 50 works. Five of these are anthologies (collections of stories) based on the small fictional Minnesota town of Effham Falls (say the city name slowly and make your own interpretation of what it intimates).

Chris Stenson is the group's founder. He just released his first novel, Sins of the Mother, and is passionate about promoting the work of his fellow authors. He does the footwork for a calendar full of vendor events where each of the authors' titles are offered for sale (details at moorheadfriendswritinggroup.com) and on the group's Facebook page.What Chris wouldn't do for this group! Get out to meet him while he is still circulating locally--before his book hits the bestsellers' lists and he tours nationally!

Sins of the Mother , by Chris Stenson

Dark Fantasy: A new Dark Age approaches. Evil walks unfettered between realities, no longer content in hiding in the shadows, feeding on the blood and the souls of the innocent. Three witches linked by blood and fate must close the doors forever. Only one has the ability. The war for a young girl’s soul has begun.Author Bio: Chris Stenson is the founder and leader of the Moorhead Friends Writing Group that has hosted nationally known authors as guest speakers. His short story “Two Bobbies” was selected for inclusion in the Horror Writers Network Anthology The Gates of Chaos. “Roadkill Surprise” is a werewolf short story that was included in the Horror Zine Magazine. His short story, Planted, was published in Fear Forges Anthology Spring Edition. Dark Fantasy Novel, Sins of the Mother was published in July 2024. The Last Door, Dolls, and They Bite have been published in the two Moorhead Friends Writing Groups anthologies.

Social Media: Facebook (@stennycauthor) Instagram (@stennycauthor) Threads (@stennycauthor) Twitter: (@c_stenny) Website: https://chrisstensonauthor.com/

For Veteran's Day: Do More Than Wave a Flag!

For Veteran’s Day:  do more than wave a flag

It’s a day off of work and school for many—Veteran’s Day.  While a streak of patriotism is especially needed after the heartfelt election last week, our observance of Veteran’s Day should go beyond flag waving and posting. Taking a deeper dive into the reality of those that serve, we may be shocked.  Despite Vice-President’s claim during her presidential debate that there “was not one member of the US military in active duty in a combat zone—in any war zone around the world” (I have also seen posts on social media from groups like Occupy Democrats claiming the same as recently as last week!), the facts tell another story. The wars in Ukraine and Israel, and increasing tensions arising from an alliance arising among Russia, China, Iran and North Korea are creating volatility all over the globe.  Without even considering the US presence in Ukraine, look at the situation in the Middle East:

—Approximately 1,000 US troops are in Syria, and 2,500 are stationed in Iraq, both of which are active combat zones. 

—Where there were usually around 34,000 troops stationed in the Middle East, recent additional deployments have raised the number to as many as 50,000.—The US Air Force now has four land-based fighter squadrons (each with 18 to 24 airplanes and the crews needed to operate them) present in the Middle East.

—A US Navy carrier strike group typically includes 75 aircraft, 8 ships, a submarine and 7,500 sailors and Marines.  At least one carrier strike group is stationed in the Middle East now.  

—As recently as last week, additional resources have been sent to the Middle East, including another fighter squadron, bomber aircraft (including B-52s from Minot Air Force Base), tanker aircraft and Navy destroyers.The numbers don’t lie.  But even more profound, look at the toll that military service takes on a soldier:

—Last year alone, more than 20,000 service memos were diagnosed with traumatic brain injuries (TBI). 

—Since 2000, more than 460,000 service members suffered TBIs. —In just one Iran-backed attack on a US base in Syria and Iraq last October, 19 service members were injured and diagnosed with traumatic brain injuries.- In 2020, the age and sex-adjusted suicide rate among veterans was 57.3% higher than the age and sex-adjusted rate among non-Veteran U.S. adults.As US citizens, each and every one of us have a debt to pay.  We owe it to our service men and women to AT LEAST be aware of the reality they face. Not just on Veteran’s Day, but every day.  Take interest, thank them.  Support legislation that acknowledges their sacrifice.  Be their best advocate! In other words, BE WORTHY OF THEIR SERVICE.

Don't call me grandma--unless you qualify

I used to think that entering old age was like shifting down a gravel truck.  You’d be roaring down a smooth asphalt road, when all of a sudden, you’d hit a rut and then gravel - and would frantically hit the clutch and brake as you struggled to keep all four wheels grounded.  I am old now, and so far, haven’t met that fate. Gratefully, I didn’t wake up one day feeling like my thought processes had been hijacked and replaced with a fog that never quite lifted.  A person who didn’t have an opinion or the curiosity to seek truth.  A being who had checked out of life because relevance and technology left them behind.  I am pretty sure my younger self perceived old age like that. I have obviously changed my mind—and you will too, someday.  In the meantime, I have a feeling that old age is the last social profile that hasn’t been added to the socially unjust index.  As much as I think there is danger in putting every single profile of a human into those demographic silos, I am a little surprised that grandparents haven’t united to stand up to the stereotypes.

Let me start right here.  I am a grandma.  To nine VERY special people. I am in LOVE with being a grandma.  I sometimes tease my own kids that if I had known how great it is to have grandchildren, I more than likely would have just skipped the parenthood thing!   But my grandmother role is saved for my grandchildren only!  If you aren’t one of those nine special people—don’t you DARE call me grandma.  I am not your grandma and will likely behave in a way that defies all approved grandmotherly behavior.  You know the stereotype.  Don’t do it. 

Election reflection: turn it around

I have often wondered what life is like for a middle-aged woman who aborted as a youngster.  Does she scan crowds looking for the face of the child she aborted?  Does she live her life with guilt and regret for making a decision she felt pressured into?  What is it like to give birth to a child you decide to keep after aborting one years before? Do you sit and wonder if that aborted baby would have been as beautiful as the one you hold in your arms now?  For those of you who put yourself out there as a candidate in this election, you must be exhausted and need a nap.  Please do so with our gratitude for putting yourself out there.  Your legislative districts, city, county and state need you. Your country needs you.  Whether you are the successful candidate or not, we all win when we respect and support the democratic process that has served our country so well. Thank you for taking part.

This is only the second election I have witnessed without my father.  He was one of those ‘white men’ — barely out of his teens — who fought in a world war.  The sights he had to see, and the things he had to do, at the behest of his Navy superiors couldn’t have been anything but grueling for him and the throngs of the young volunteers that made up our armed forces.  But, together with a massive coalition of allies, they stopped the world from the Nazis and imperial Japan. His love of country, despite the visions of war that undoubtedly lived in his head, surfaced most brightly at election time.  It was then that he held the country - and the office of the presidency— up with complete reverence. I remember when Obama won his first election.  Dad’s response was, “I think the black people will be lifted by this and so it's a good thing.”

Thus, when I hear people speak about “white men” as racist misogynists, my skin crawls.  To spurn such disrespect for the very people that saved us from a Hitler regime is inexcusable. Yes, this country — not so long ago — was governed by male chauvinism.  White men dominated, for sure.  But wasn’t it also white men that obviously moved aside a bit to embrace women? How would we be enjoying the freedoms we have today in this country if white men hadn’t at some point—whether pushed over or not — stepped aside and given us room at the podium?  All we have to do is look at a country like Afghanistan or Yemen to realize that we women have much to celebrate.  We can be, and are, astronauts, brain surgeons, engineers, fighter pilots, welders, linemen, and anything else we want to be.  When I grew up, we were told we had four choices: to be a secretary, teacher, nurse or housewife. 

For those who are bemoaning the results of this election and chalk them up to gender, I respectfully disagree.  Kamala Harris did not lose because she is a woman.  She fell short on policy.  She was unclear about what she believed on the economy, energy, crime, immigration, border security, defense and foreign relations.  She didn’t distinguish herself from President Biden and his policies— and didn’t do herself a favor by not squealing on his decline far sooner.  The one policy she was very clear on was abortion. In today’s terms, I suppose I am to refer to that as reproductive rights.  But the dictionary definition of “reproductive” means “relating to the production of new life.”  When we talk about abortion, we need to call it what it is — stopping the production of new life — and we must acknowledge where the issue is now: in the jurisdiction of the states.  Some people are spending endless energy commiserating on the issue of abortion and what is often termed as “loss of rights.”  If that phrase is meant to infer that we are losing rights other than the right to abort, I digress—and will wait to hear details from the states as they define their own versions of Roe v. Wade.  There is a lot of exaggeration out there.  No, Trump is not going to require that your daughter have a rapist’s child.  Trump isn’t going to risk the life of a woman in childbirth.  Trump isn’t going to do anything about abortion rights.  The issue of abortion is back in the hands of your state legislators.  And I contend that they are not going to sentence you to the life of a handmaid. Abortion legislation is not just specific to the United States—almost 100 countries have some kind of restriction on them. But why not reload right here and approach abortion another way?  Why don’t we do all we can to make abortion a procedure of last resort? Why don’t we  try to support those young women who find themselves dealing with unintended pregnancy--before, during and after? What are we doing to ensure our daughters and sons aren’t making the choices that lead to unintended pregnancy?  When I was in high school, I remember a fellow classmate that became pregnant when we were sophomores.  And continued to attend school even into her last trimester! Back then, you didn’t see pregnant teen-agers — not because there weren’t any.  They were absent from public spaces because they were sent away by families who treasured their family honor above the dignity of their daughter.  Can you imagine?  You are a 15-year-old who is devastated first by unintended pregnancy, and then must face being thrown out and sent away by your own family?Thankfully, those days are over!  That Fargo Home For Unwed Mothers that we used to hear about is no longer part of our vernacular.  But we need to revisit the reason for it.  We, as a society, obviously haven’t done enough to deter unwanted pregnancies.  And we have done little to reduce the stigma around unwanted pregnancy.  Abortion certainly does nothing but add to that stigma.  

I've often wondered what life is like for a middle-aged woman who aborted as a youngster.  Does she scan crowds looking for the face of the child she aborted?  Does she live her life with guilt and regret for making a decision she felt pressured into?  What is it like to give birth to a child you decide to keep after aborting one years before? Do you sit and wonder if that aborted baby would have been as beautiful as the one you hold in your arms now?  

Think of the mental impact of the way we handle unintended pregnancy.  Undergoing abortion has profound mental consequences — likely unaddressed. What are we doing to help women who have made that choice? When are we going to rally in support of those who find themselves in an unintended pregnancy?  When will we try harder to educate and counsel them - and young men as well - before pregnancy? How can  we offer more alternatives to abortion? If we spent half as much energy and resources helping those dealing with unintended pregnancies, rather than advocate for abortion, we would be truly giving women - and all the female babies we can save from abortion - the rights they deserve.

Election reflection: turn it around

I have often wondered what life is like for a middle-aged woman who aborted as a youngster.  Does she scan crowds looking for the face of the child she aborted?  Does she live her life with guilt and regret for making a decision she felt pressured into?  What is it like to give birth to a child you decide to keep after aborting one years before? Do you sit and wonder if that aborted baby would have been as beautiful as the one you hold in your arms now?  For those of you who put yourself out there as a candidate in this election, you must be exhausted and need a nap.  Please do so with our gratitude for putting yourself out there.  Your legislative districts, city, county and state need you. Your country needs you.  Whether you are the successful candidate or not, we all win when we respect and support the democratic process that has served our country so well. Thank you for taking part.

This is only the second election I have witnessed without my father.  He was one of those ‘white men’ — barely out of his teens — who fought in a world war.  The sights he had to see, and the things he had to do, at the behest of his Navy superiors couldn’t have been anything but grueling for him and the throngs of the young volunteers that made up our armed forces.  But, together with a massive coalition of allies, they stopped the world from the Nazis and imperial Japan. His love of country, despite the visions of war that undoubtedly lived in his head, surfaced most brightly at election time.  It was then that he held the country - and the office of the presidency— up with complete reverence. I remember when Obama won his first election.  Dad’s response was, “I think the black people will be lifted by this and so it's a good thing.”

Thus, when I hear people speak about “white men” as racist misogynists, my skin crawls.  To spurn such disrespect for the very people that saved us from a Hitler regime is inexcusable. Yes, this country — not so long ago — was governed by male chauvinism.  White men dominated, for sure.  But wasn’t it also white men that obviously moved aside a bit to embrace women? How would we be enjoying the freedoms we have today in this country if white men hadn’t at some point—whether pushed over or not — stepped aside and given us room at the podium?  All we have to do is look at a country like Afghanistan or Yemen to realize that we women have much to celebrate.  We can be, and are, astronauts, brain surgeons, engineers, fighter pilots, welders, linemen, and anything else we want to be.  When I grew up, we were told we had four choices: to be a secretary, teacher, nurse or housewife. 

For those who are bemoaning the results of this election and chalk them up to gender, I respectfully disagree.  Kamala Harris did not lose because she is a woman.  She fell short on policy.  She was unclear about what she believed on the economy, energy, crime, immigration, border security, defense and foreign relations.  She didn’t distinguish herself from President Biden and his policies— and didn’t do herself a favor by not squealing on his decline far sooner.  The one policy she was very clear on was abortion. In today’s terms, I suppose I am to refer to that as reproductive rights.  But the dictionary definition of “reproductive” means “relating to the production of new life.”  When we talk about abortion, we need to call it what it is — stopping the production of new life — and we must acknowledge where the issue is now: in the jurisdiction of the states.  Some people are spending endless energy commiserating on the issue of abortion and what is often termed as “loss of rights.”  If that phrase is meant to infer that we are losing rights other than the right to abort, I digress—and will wait to hear details from the states as they define their own versions of Roe v. Wade.  There is a lot of exaggeration out there.  No, Trump is not going to require that your daughter have a rapist’s child.  Trump isn’t going to risk the life of a woman in childbirth.  Trump isn’t going to do anything about abortion rights.  The issue of abortion is back in the hands of your state legislators.  And I contend that they are not going to sentence you to the life of a handmaid. Abortion legislation is not just specific to the United States—almost 100 countries have some kind of restriction on them. But why not reload right here and approach abortion another way?  Why don’t we do all we can to make abortion a procedure of last resort? Why don’t we  try to support those young women who find themselves dealing with unintended pregnancy--before, during and after? What are we doing to ensure our daughters and sons aren’t making the choices that lead to unintended pregnancy?  When I was in high school, I remember a fellow classmate that became pregnant when we were sophomores.  And continued to attend school even into her last trimester! Back then, you didn’t see pregnant teen-agers — not because there weren’t any.  They were absent from public spaces because they were sent away by families who treasured their family honor above the dignity of their daughter.  Can you imagine?  You are a 15-year-old who is devastated first by unintended pregnancy, and then must face being thrown out and sent away by your own family?Thankfully, those days are over!  That Fargo Home For Unwed Mothers that we used to hear about is no longer part of our vernacular.  But we need to revisit the reason for it.  We, as a society, obviously haven’t done enough to deter unwanted pregnancies.  And we have done little to reduce the stigma around unwanted pregnancy.  Abortion certainly does nothing but add to that stigma.  

I've often wondered what life is like for a middle-aged woman who aborted as a youngster.  Does she scan crowds looking for the face of the child she aborted?  Does she live her life with guilt and regret for making a decision she felt pressured into?  What is it like to give birth to a child you decide to keep after aborting one years before? Do you sit and wonder if that aborted baby would have been as beautiful as the one you hold in your arms now?  

Think of the mental impact of the way we handle unintended pregnancy.  Undergoing abortion has profound mental consequences — likely unaddressed. What are we doing to help women who have made that choice? When are we going to rally in support of those who find themselves in an unintended pregnancy?  When will we try harder to educate and counsel them - and young men as well - before pregnancy? How can  we offer more alternatives to abortion? If we spent half as much energy and resources helping those dealing with unintended pregnancies, rather than advocate for abortion, we would be truly giving women - and all the female babies we can save from abortion - the rights they deserve.

Heads Up! Your clocks are WRONG!

We have never been prompt when it comes to setting the clocks —backward or forward—in our house or car.  So today, on the return to Standard Time, we begin the dreaded four-month dilemma of confusion.  Is the clock on the dining room wall correct, or is it the one in the stairwell? If you check the time on the clock in the kitchen, subtract an hour.  But the one in the basement is right now—so go by that one.  As a family of five, none of us were thinking about any of that one bright, sunny April morning about 35 years ago.  We were heading to church—and, per usual, we knew that if we hurried, we’d be not the last—but second to the last —family to arrive.  Why is it that other families of five don’t have to dash in at the last minute and sprint to their pews just moments before the priest proceeds up the aisle? 

As we pulled up to the church—what?  Something was missing.  Those other families.  Their cars. The priest.  The Sister.   Wait, where is everyone? There were no cars parked on the side or in front of our small church.  No families dashing through the front doors.  Nobody, anywhere.   After hubby walked up to try the church’s front door, he found it locked.

Hmmm.  In a state of confusion, we sat in the car, which, like all vehicles back then, had neither  WIFI nor a cell phone. After all of five minutes, we decided that we’d missed notice of a schedule change.  Church was not held in Pingree that morning, we surmised. So we went home - and found out later we were WRONG twice!  A church service WAS held that morning.  At the scheduled time, 10:30 AM Central Standard time.  An hour AFTER we first showed up.  The first time we were ever early for church!That was in the late 1980s, after the Wizard of Oz or whoever decides this stuff deemed that DST would be implemented on the first Sunday of April instead of the last Sunday.  Today, we are supposed to turn our clocks ahead on the second Sunday of March, and set them back on the first Sunday of November.  We now observe DST eight months out of the year.

But we debate it 12 months of the year.  About 43% of we the people want year-round standard time, 32% want permanent daylight saving time and 25% want to leave it the way it is, according to an October 2021 Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research poll. In 2019, Sen. Marco Rubio introduced a bill to make adherence to DST a national year-round mandate.  It passed the Senate, but not the House.  While 29 states have passed legislation to go with DST year-round if it becomes a federal law, there are a couple states—Arizona and Hawaii—that observe only Standard time.I am unclear whether the issue will come to light again.  But I am with the 32 percent.  I’d just as soon not have to see the sun setting in the middle of a December afternoon.  I’d rather not have dark winter nights beginning in the middle of the day.  But most of all, I’d rather not have to set my clocks.  Forward.  Backward. Ever.  I wonder what it’d be like to look at a clock and actually trust it?  

Let the Season Begin! Happy Holidays!

I think it was by design. That summer in North Dakota waited until November 1 to depart is unusual, to say the least. To go to football games - the entire season in some cases! - in tank tops and flip flops was extraordinary. That roses and other tender-rooted annuals pretended it was still August was a delight.

But to Trick or Treat in shirtsleeve weather, and then witness the first snowfall only hours later, is obviously a cue. I take it as permission to begin the holiday season.

For most of my life, I followed the rules. I waited until the day AFTER Thanksgiving to put up my 27 Rubbermaid garbage cans (yes, those tall ones!) of Christmas decor (hey, in my defense, lights and garland are bulky).

But, a couple years ago, I decided that a pumpkin or two on Thanksgiving Day looks great amongst pine cones and spruce. At first, I felt like a traitor to the pilgrims. I worried that our Thanksgiving roasted turkey would give us all E.coli. I was sure our pumpkin pies would taste more like sour mush. But, as far as I know, nobody died after Thanksgiving. And just to ensure that I will still be observing Thanksgiving, I am committing to being more grateful for my many blessings every day!

So I think Thanksgiving and I are still friends! And thus, I have decided that, henceforth, November 1 is the new beginning of the holiday season! That snow this morning clinched it. Let the decorating begin. Turn on those festive lights. Play your Christmas favoritee! Shop at the Shop Hop today in Jamestown or the Pride of Dakota Showcase in Fargo. And, speaking of Fargo, drop in and see me at Words To Live By Bookstore in Moorhead at 819 Center Avenue. Between 11 AM and 2 pm, Ozzy Ox and I will be in a festive mood. Perfect for launching the holiday season! I am SO grateful for this opportunity!

Happy Isaac Houdini Day!

I want to dress as an ox for Halloween.  Most people say I wouldn’t have to do anything different! I'm not so sure that’s a compliment -- the phrase, “clumsy as an ox” comes to mind.  And ok, fine: guilty as charged. But oxen are also known for stubbornness (guilty as charged again!), and that trait weighed into my creation of Ozzy Ox.  In each of my four books, he exhibits a streak of obstinance.  But don’t all people —human or not—bring a bullheaded version of themselves to the surface at one time or another? In Ozzy Ox Stands Against Socks, Ozzy shows how effectively his stubborn streak persists.  He adamantly refuses to wear socks —- and MomOx refuses to allow him to go outside in subarctic weather without them.  Sound familiar? I’d guess that every family has had a similar standoff or two in its past. “Socks” is the first Ozzy Ox book I wrote.  It is based on a real life kid: our grandson, who was a regular Houdini when he was a tot.  No matter who placed him in his carseat or how many layers (pants, snow pants, shirt, sweater, jacket, socks and boots) he had on — or how cold it was, Isaac would arrive at the destination sitting defiantly, stripped to his diaper.  Still buckled in his carseat! 

We never did figure out how he did that!  But Isaac is still that wiry today, and, if I may boast, still a little magical.  I remember his escape artistry like it was yesterday.  How can it be our little escape artist is turning 21 today?  He never did suffer from frostbite, and has a full set of fingers and toes.  Happy Birthday, Isaac!  In honor of your past, I think a revisit back to your Houdini days would be the perfect 21st Halloween for you!

No bologna—I am resurrecting this blog!

My, it’s been awhile.  My new resolution on this, National Bologna Day (yes, that’s a thing!), is to awaken this blog from its inertia. May I start out by updating you on my author journey?  I have joined a writer’s group, and this month, will be making the rounds as the Moorhead Friends Writing Group’s November Spotlight Author.

As such, I am working with a MFWG partner, Words To Live By Bookstore, at 819 Center Avenue in Moorhead, Minn.  As you can see from the graphic, I will be signing all four titles in my Ozzy Ox series on Sat., Nov. 2 from 11 AM to 2 PM there.  We will set up this event to appeal to kids, with discounts and special treats and prizes to make it a fun and light-hearted day, just like Ozzy Ox. If you have his books, please bring them in! If you don't, come check them out.

And probably most important, come check this bookstore out!  What a place it is! If you haven’t been to Words To Live By Bookstore, you should make a trip just to see its massive collection of vintage, leather-bound books.  They are museum-quality;  you will likely never see books that compare in any book store anywhere.  Better yet, single books in the collection may be purchased!And there's more: the store's shelves are lined with books in every genre written by the 40-plus authors of MFWG. If you're like me, you have no idea how many local authors have titles to prove their prowess--or how many are writing books that are as compelling as those written by your favorite best-selling author. Horror, sci-fi, mystery, romance, fictional history and all genres in between: MFWG has a whole lot of talent within its ranks. If you see us members of the group out and about at the many vendor events MFWG attends in the FM area, track us down! We love to share our journeys. Who knows, something may light a spark in YOU!  

Meanwhile, back on Center Avenue. owners Kris and Jill Johnson opened their bookstore almost a year ago.  It isn’t the easiest place to find.  The best way I’d explain it is to say it’s in the vicinity of Moorhead’s famous, original Dairy Queen on Eighth Street (go north past it, hang a right on Center Avenue and then proceed east (on your right) looking closely on the south side of Center Avenue for the bookstore door.  At the east end of the block, there is parking, so if you don’t see the door as you pass by, just park and walk back up the block.  You’re bound to run across Words To Live By Bookstore -it's a little west and across the street from the Armory Event Center. The rest of the story?  This is no bologna--hope to see you there!

Above: shelves on the back wall are lined with vintage leather-bound books. Classics galore. All for sale!

Who wants to be the Easter Bunny?

I grew up thinking I wouldn’t want to be an Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. The latter, because who wants to look at wayward teeth put into a glass of water or under a pillow? Sure, the Tooth Fairy gets away spending meager quarters (my childhood) or dollars (our kids’ take) and doesn’t have to play in the same league as Santa Claus, but think about her job. The poor thing has to serve children who have just been terrorized by parents threatening to tie their loose teeth to door knobs. Worse yet, nobody agrees on what The Tooth Fairy even looks like! In our country, she may look like a beautiful being with delicate wings. But in Europe and Latin America, she is a small, sneaky MOUSE! EEEEEK! 

As far as Santa Claus, well, yeah. Sure he’s overweight and is only notable one night per year. Yes, he has to squeeze down chimneys and not tear his skin tight red furry pants. But think of the joy associated with a mere mention of his name. The history of Santa dates back to 325 in Turkey, when a nice man saved three girls from poverty and a life of prostitution. This man was known for acts of kindness and became the patron saint of children—St. Nicholas. Who doesn’t love the generosity and kindness of such a gent?

I don’t have a clue why the Easter Bunny evolved. People like me have had to swallow our reservations about him—a rabbit hopping around on our kitchen counters looking to lay eggs in a basket? EEEK! But, let’s face it: the fact that he’s been a thing since the 1700s, when German immigrants brought the tradition of an egg-laying hare to Pennsylvania, is actually amazing. Obviously, most people don’t think too hard about why he lays eggs—after all, he’s a male mammal, so what are the chances?

Despite the absurdity of it—and despite my childhood reservations about him—the Easter Bunny is STILL delivering. Much to their delight, kids are still thrilled to see their Easter Baskets filled with not only eggs, but candy and all kinds of treasures—toys, money, clothes, books.

So here’s an idea for YOUR Easter Bunny: Ask him to order Ozzy Ox books for all his Easter deliveries! Available online at Amazon, Walmart or Barnes and Noble, Ozzy Ox books will deliver long after the fake grass is coaxed from beneath your sofa. The perfect gift for kids 2-8, Ozzy Ox books, available in both hard cover and paperback, deliver entertaining stories that pack good life lessons. Your kids will love the vibrant illustrations —and you’ll replace the thought of those rabbit tracks on your counters with memorable snuggles. Happy Easter!