A Christmas Tale (no, I don't live on Walton's Mountain)

December 18, 2017

Approaching Christmas brings to mind years of family tales. My family is good for a lot of laughs - please don't tell them I said that. One of my favorite stories is about Hooter the Owl. 

We live in a rural community. When I was young, it was a VERY rural community. I'm serious when I say I'm only a generation removed from a moonshiner. 

My grandfather was a unique individual. Yes, he made Apple Jack. He was a beekeeper, a truck farmer, a hunter, a skilled woodworker, and a lover of all the wild things that came into his yard. 

One autumn day Pop put on his boots and went out to do a walk-about. I swear he knew every tree and rock on his property. He came home with an injured owl. 

My grandmother was not pleased, but she had a soft heart for the wild ones, too. They both knew for Hooter to have a chance to survive, he needed a little help. Pop made a rough frame and wrapped it in chicken wire and Hooter had temporary digs. His wing would heal and they'd set him free, or..... let's not go there.

Pop had a way with critters. It wasn't long before Hooter knew the human was the source of chicken livers. Now what self-respecting owl would refuse that meal? Hooter made friends with Pop. The days passed and the Christmas season rolled around.

Back in those days, the late 1960's, everyone had a cut tree for Christmas. Pop got a tree and put it up. My grandmother called me to come help decorate it. All was well until Pop let Hooter out of his cage. 

Hooter couldn't yet fly again, but he sure could hop and run. He made a beeline for the tree and up he went! Not even chicken livers could coax him out of the tree. So my grandparents let him alone. They turned the lights on in the evenings and it was Christmas business as usual except for the owl. 

Hooter eventually came down and out - and in spectacular fashion. He hopped out of the tree into the middle of the Christmas day dinner table, right in front of my Dad's plate. It was fucking funny. Every Christmas dinner at my grandparent's house thereafter, my father made a big show of searching the Christmas tree for surprises. And Dad and Pop would laugh the way men do when they have an inside joke with each other. 

Those were the days. The Waltons have nothing on my family. 

KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com

C is for Caboose - 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge (KC Kendricks)

April 3, 2014

2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge

A Rural Life

Day 3

C is for Caboose

Welcome to the 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge! This is the fourth year I've participated in the challenge, and this year is all about living in rural America. It’s sort of like Walton’s Mountain meets the big city meets middle America. 

Will I do a little promo along the way? You know I will! Writing is a big part of who I am. So thanks for coming along for the ride in the 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge.

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The part of Maryland I call home has a long and storied rail history. My great-grandfather was a railroad man, as were two of his five sons. Around here, it’s hard to find a family that doesn’t have a connection to the rails. Even today, the CSX, Norfolk Southern, and the Winchester and Western Railroads roll through town on a regular basis.

When I was a little girl it seemed every trip to anywhere meant a stop at a rail crossing to wait as a train rolled past. It was a big deal to count the number of cars in the train and then to blow the horn at the caboose, especially if the conductor was rear platform waving.

I’ve grown up some since those days but I still have a fondness for trains. It’s rare to have traffic stopped since in the last fifty years a concerted effort was made to build overpasses for cars. But every once in a while it happens and I’m drawn into memories of being in the car with my elders, counting.

These days, even when I see a train, I don’t see many cabooses, and I think that’s a shame. I guess it’s not cost effective to drag the weight of the caboose when it doesn't carry a payload, but I miss them. It makes me sad that it’s one more thing the little ones in my life will never know.

But caboose or not, I still wave when the last boxcar goes by. And sometimes I look over at the vehicle next to mine and the people inside are waving, too.

A note from the author: When a publisher call came for a stories with an “all aboard” theme, I pulled from the local history for the opening to the story, “Station to Station.”

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You didn't really think you’d get away without a brief book promo, did you?

C is for Catching Fireflies. For more information please visit my website at www.kckendricks.com/CatchingFireflies.html

Catching Fireflies is available at
Amazon, iTunes/Apple, Barnes and Noble, Kobo,
and other online booksellers. 

KC Kendricks

Website: http://www.kckendricks.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kckendricks

Blog: http://kckendricks.blogspot.com

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kckendricks

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kckendricks

B is for Bridges in the 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge

April 2, 2014

2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge

A Rural Life

Day 2

B is for Bridges

Welcome to the 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge! This is the fourth year I've participated in the challenge, and I’m all set to go. This year, 2014, is all about my rural life. It’s sort of like Walton’s Mountain meets the big city meets middle America. It’s my life and the forces that come together to make my unique world.

Will I do a little promo along the way? Absolutely! I'm a writer. I can’t blog if I cut out part of my life. So just like life this year will be a mix-up - a wonderful combination of this and that all rolled into one that may seem chaotic on the surface but blends together to create the whole package that is A Rural Life.

So thanks for coming along for the ride in the 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge.

*_*_*_*_*

Bridges fascinate me with the duality of their nature. Maybe it’s because I’m a Gemini I see the past, present and future in a bridge.

Bridges call to me to move forward, to cross to the other side with the quiet promise they won’t let me fall as I take those fateful steps. And yet they remain, a link to the past and the path recently traveled. From the purely functional, most aesthetic blending of steel and art to the completely metaphorical, I love bridges.

Needing to find both witty and/or sentimental quotes about bridges, I turned to Google. Once there, it was a struggle to pull the gems from the rubbish. I wonder, as always, if the quotes are real and if they’re attributed to the correct person. Maybe I shouldn’t let it bog me down.

Maybe, if the words give a proper representation of bridges, I should be happy with that and cross the bridge over to tomorrow and the letter C.

Quotes

“The hardest thing in life is to know which bridge to cross and which to burn” - David Russell, Scottish classical guitarist

“Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment.” - Jim Rohn, American Speaker and Author.

“Sometimes you get the best light from burning a bridge.” -Don Henley, founding member of Eagles

“We are told never to cross a bridge until we come to it, but this world is owned by men who have 'crossed bridges' in their imagination far ahead of the crowd.” - unknown

“What need the bridge be wider than the flood?” - Shakespeare

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You didn't’t really think you’d get away without a brief book promo, did you? B is for Beneath Dark Stars.

For more information please visit my website at

kckendricks.com/BeneathDarkStars.html

BENEATH DARK STARS 
Gay romance with a paranormal shift
available now at Amazon, iTunes/Apple, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, and other online booksellers. 


KC Kendricks

Website: http://www.kckendricks.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kckendricks

Blog: http://kckendricks.blogspot.com

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kckendricks

Mailing list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/betweenthekeys

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kckendricks