Here and now and Then

By Mike Chen

To save his daughter, he’ll go anywhere—and any-when…

Kin Stewart is an everyday family man: working in IT, trying to keep the spark in his marriage, struggling to connect with his teenage daughter, Miranda. But his current life is a far cry from his previous career…as a time-traveling secret agent from 2142.

Stranded in suburban San Francisco since the 1990s after a botched mission, Kin has kept his past hidden from everyone around him, despite the increasing blackouts and memory loss affecting his time-traveler’s brain. Until one afternoon, his “rescue” team arrives—eighteen years too late.

Their mission: return Kin to 2142, where he’s only been gone weeks, not years, and where another family is waiting for him. A family he can’t remember.

Torn between two lives, Kin is desperate for a way to stay connected to both. But when his best efforts threaten to destroy the agency and even history itself, his daughter’s very existence is at risk. It’ll take one final trip across time to save Miranda—even if it means breaking all the rules of time travel in the process.

A uniquely emotional genre-bending debut, Here and Now and Then captures the perfect balance of heart, playfulness, and imagination, offering an intimate glimpse into the crevices of a father’s heart and its capacity to stretch across both space and time to protect the people that mean the most.

May 6, 2019
5 of 5 stars

Here and Now and Then by Mike Chen (purchased at Amazon.ca for my Kindle)

Thank you to P.S. Literary Agency for promoting this AMAZING read on their Facebook page back on April 16. I immediately went to Amazon and snapped up a great Kindle deal. The purchase was a bit outside of my usual genre, but I was hooked from the first page!

A few things I look for in a great read; make me believe, make me laugh, make me cry, make me think. This book did ALL of this and more.

When you think about time travel, you’d be hard pressed to make it believable, right? I was concerned I’d get lost in technicalities, the science part of Science Fiction, but it was so well written I was just truly lost in the story.

I suppose this will come off as sexist, but I LOVE it when a male author GETS the emotions of relationships. Mike Chen nailed the complexities of not just one family, but of two, in two different centuries. At no point did I get confused, have to back up, reconcile, move on. The story was seamless, and hit on all of my favourite reads criteria.

I HIGHLY recommend you buy this book today! I will definitely be watching for the next book by Mike Chen.

The Daughter’s Tale

The internationally bestselling author of The German Girl delivers an unforgettable family saga of love and redemption during World War II, based on the true story of the Nazi massacre of a French village in 1944.

New York City, 2015: Elise Duval, eighty years old, receives a phone call from a woman recently arrived from Cuba bearing messages from a time and country that she’s long forgotten. A French Catholic who arrived in New York after World War II, Elise and her world are forever changed when the woman arrives with letters written to Elise from her mother in German during the war, unravelling more than seven decades of secrets.

Berlin, 1939: Bookstore owner and recent widow Amanda Sternberg is fleeing Nazi Germany with her two young daughters, heading towards unoccupied France. She arrives in Haute-Vienne with only one of her girls. Their freedom is short-lived and soon they are taken to a labor camp.

Based on true events, The Daughter’s Tale chronicles one of the most harrowing atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis during World War II: the 1944 massacre of all the inhabitants of Oradour-Sur-Glane, a small, idyllic village in the south of France. Heartbreaking and immersive, The Daughter’s Tale is a beautifully crafted family saga of love, survival, and hope against all odds.

April 15, 2019
3 of 5 stars

The Daughter’s Tale by Armando Lucas Correa

A special thank you to NetGalley, and Simon & Schuster for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

The story overall was very nice. The characters were easy to believe, and the story flowed well. One thing I was thankful for, especially having read The Tattooist of Auschwitz not that long ago, it wasn’t as graphic as I feared.

I actually had a nice block of time to read this book, and so I wasn’t going three chapters forward, one back. Unfortunately, I did cram the ending in shortly after midnight one night about a week ago. Note to self: Don’t do that! I missed key phrases that would have made the ending make sense and not left me feeling gypped and grappling for answers when it was already well past my bedtime.

Fast forward to today, where I took an hour to go back to the last section of the book for a thorough reread. It all became clear in a checklist kind of way, unfortunately I find this quite common in fiction; answering all the questions in the last few paragraphs.

That said, it was an enjoyable read and I learned a little bit more about the history of this time period because the author employed some facts and added a note at the ending referencing them. A nice touch I thought.

The Wisdom of Sally Red Shoes

Ruth Hogan, the international bestselling author behind the The Keeper of Lost Things returns with an irresistible novel of unexpected friendships, second chances—and dark secrets…

They say friends make life worth living…

Once a spirited, independent woman with a rebellious streak, Masha’s life was forever changed by a tragic event twelve years ago. Unable to let go of her grief, she finds comfort in her faithful canine companion Haizum, and peace in the quiet lanes of her town’s swimming pool. Almost without her realizing it, her life has shuddered to a halt.

It’s only when Masha begins an unlikely friendship with the mysterious Sally Red Shoes, a bag lady with a prodigious voice and a penchant for saying just what she means, that a new world of possibilities opens up: new friendships, new opportunities, and even a chance for new love. For the first time in years, Masha has the chance to start living again.

But just as Masha dares to imagine the future, her past comes roaring back…

Like her beloved debut, The Keeper of Lost Things, Ruth Hogan’s second novel introduces a cast of wonderful characters, both ordinary and charmingly eccentric, who lead us through a moving exploration of the simple human connections that unite us all.

March 15, 2019
5 of 5 stars

The Wisdom of Sally Red Shoes Review

A special thank you to NetGalley, and Crooked Lane Books for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

I loved this book so much I immediately wanted to read it over again! This story was written to perfection from the opening line to the amazing ending. The language is beautiful, yet I found myself skipping over some of the poems and impressive vocabulary to race through the story! Another reason to read it again!

“Life is full of small joys if you know where to look for them.”

What I particularly loved about this book is there was intrigue and mystery from the very start. There was no dump of back-story to weigh it down, yet each concise chapter leaked another clue. It was very much like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. And I LOVE jigsaw puzzles.

The introduction of the main characters in the opening chapters set the stage pretty quickly around graveyards, swimming pools, and the subject of drowning. Masha appears to be obsessed with them all. Masha spends a great deal of time wandering the graveyard with or without her dog Haizum, having conversations with the occupants of the various grave sites. She considers them ‘my Family on the Other Side.’

As the stories unfold for “Sally”, Masha, Alice, and Mattie, (in order of introduction) the theme of death, grief, and dark secrets begins to evolve.

“When the music ends for someone you love you don’t stop dancing. You dance for them as well.”

It was right around Chapter 50, I was lying in bed, my mind turning over the chapters I’d read the night before, when I had the AH HA moment!! So much for sleeping in!

At that point, I was excited to finish it, to see if I am right, and at the same time afraid I am! For the next couple of chapters, I convinced myself I was mistaken, but then another clue. Reading it on my Kindle, I was beginning to hyperventilate at the 95% mark. HOW was she going to finish this in so few pages? The ending was PERFECT!!!!! I couldn’t believe the beautiful way Ruth completed the story.

I laughed, I cried, I wondered, and I loved. All of the things a great read should do for you!

The Tattooist of Auschwitz

The incredible story of the Auschwitz-Birkenau tattooist and the woman he loved. 
Lale Sokolov is well-dressed, a charmer, a ladies’ man. He is also a Jew. On the first transport from Slovakia to Auschwitz in 1942, Lale immediately stands out to his fellow prisoners. In the camp, he is looked up to, looked out for, and put to work in the privileged position of Tätowierer– the tattooist – to mark his fellow prisoners, forever. One of them is a young woman, Gita, who steals his heart at first glance. 
His life given new purpose, Lale does his best through the struggle and suffering to use his position for good. 
This story, full of beauty and hope, is based on years of interviews author Heather Morris conducted with real-life Holocaust survivor and Auschwitz- Birkenau tattooist Ludwig (Lale) Sokolov. It is heart-wrenching, illuminating, and unforgettable.

December 31, 2018
2 0f 5 stars

I enjoyed the beginning, it read like an historical novel. However, towards the end it read more like an agenda. Then at the end, it seemed almost biographical. When I got to the epilogue, it totally read like a true life story. Get to the disclaimer at the very last page… “…a work of fiction…”
Really confused and a tad bit annoyed. 🙁
Did Lale and Gita REALLY exist or????

The Sex Effect

With hilarious wit and sharp insights, The Sex Effect draws on history, psychology, religion, and sociology, and combines innovative research and analysis with captivating anecdotes to reveal just how much sex shapes our society. Blending quirky trivia (discover the real origins of corn flakes, vibrators, and Viagra!) with compelling questions (Why are our most successful leaders also the friskiest? How could building a gay neighborhood save Detroit from economic ruin?), The Sex Effect shows how the influence of sex and our sexual attitudes is everywhere and highlights how we can use this knowledge to improve our everyday decisions and better understand the world in which we live.

The Sex Effect Review ~ March 3, 2017
5 of 5 stars

A special thanks to NetGalley and Sourcebooks for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.    

A laugh out loud, eyebrow raising, and demystifying, tale about SEX! This book should be in every university bookstore in North America, and could easily be the subject of a complete sociology course. But don’t let text book status scare you, it’s a highly entertaining read for anyone.

The history of bees

In the spirit of Station Eleven and Never Let Me Go, this dazzling and ambitious literary debut follows three generations of beekeepers from the past, present, and future, weaving a spellbinding story of their relationship to the bees, to their children, and to one another against the backdrop of an urgent, global crisis.

England, 1852. William is a biologist and seed merchant who sets out to build a new type of beehive, one that will give both him and his children honor and fame.

United States, 2007. George is a beekeeper fighting an uphill battle against modern farming, but he hopes that his son can be their salvation.

China, 2098. Tao hand paints pollen onto the fruit trees now that the bees have long since disappeared. When Tao’s young son is taken away by the authorities after a tragic accident, she sets out on a grueling journey to find out what happened to him.

Haunting, illuminating, and deftly written, 
The History of Bees joins these three very different narratives into one gripping and thought-provoking story that is just as much about the powerful bond between children and parents as it is about our very relationship to nature and humanity.

January 26, 2018 ~ 4 of 5 stars

The History of Bees Review

A special thank you to NetGalley, and Simon & Schuster for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

A compelling look from three different perspectives, and three different time lines, at how bees play a role in day to day life. There is plenty of mystery and intrigue in this novel to keep the pages turning. The opening lines of the story are beautifully descriptive, and that style of language is carried throughout the book. It invokes a sympathy from the reader for the plight of the characters.

Unfortunately, with my schedule and commitments, I’m a read 10 pages, back up and reread 3 or 4 the next time I get to sit down with it, so the continuity is sometimes lost. Tao’s story was my favourite, and when I reached the end, I felt that hers was the only story clearly summed up. William I lost several chapters before the end, and George disappeared as well. I went back several chapters to reread the ending to see if I missed something. I was more satisfied after my reread, but I still feel William was left to ones imagination more than I would have liked.

Overall, I enjoyed the book, its subject matter and its characters.

I will definitely read more from Maja Lunde!

A Wonderful Surprise Indeed!

Joe tightened his grip around the mug of coffee as he watched the wind whip the powdery snow around the parking lot.  Maybe the warmth he felt in his calloused hands would travel up his arms to his heart and defrost things there.  His Christmas spirit was at an all time low and one more tearful phone call with his young daughter would surely do him in.  What was I thinking when I agreed to this cross country trip?

Joe was a trucker when Angie met him so she knew the gig, they married six months later.  He was overjoyed when she blessed them with a daughter on Christmas Eve, they named her Holly.  That was the last Christmas Angie spent with them; by the end of summer she’d left them both.  Joe’s mom took over raising Holly as he travelled the highways earning a living for them.  Sometimes on short trips they would travel with him so he could bond with his baby girl, but mostly he was alone.

“Excuse me,” he called to the young waitress.  She hurried right over, coffee pot in hand.  “Actually, I’d just like my bill please.  If I get back on the road hopefully I can get home by the 27th.”

“Tough to be on the road at this time of year,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m missing my little girl’s 6th birthday too,” he replied.

“Oh honey, that’s so sad,” she said placing her hand on his broad shoulder.  “I’ll be right back with your bill.”

Joe felt despair settle over him; just a kind touch from a stranger was all it took to remind him of his loneliness.  He fished into his wallet for some cash to pay the bill, the latest photo of his daughter looking him right in the eye.  He looked away as if she could see him sitting there feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t want her to see him this way.  As his glance went back to the window he saw a streak of black dart into the tree line at the edge of the parking lot.

“What was that?” he asked the waitress as she returned with his bill.

“Little black and white scrap of fur and bones?” she asked.

“I guess so, I just saw a blur of something black,” he replied.

“Somebody dumped a pup here last week, can’t be more than 3 months old.  We’ve been trying to catch him since but he won’t let anyone get near him.  Best we can do is put food out for him but he doesn’t look to be doing so good.”

“Hey, can you add a couple of burgers to my bill?  Just plain, nothing on them.  Well maybe some cheese and bacon, but that’s it.”

“You going to try and catch him?  Well good luck to you.”

Joe paid his bill and left a generous tip.  “Merry Christmas to you,” he said feeling a little lighter in his heart.

“And to you,” she replied.  “Let me know if you get the pup so I know to stop feeding him.”

Joe made his way back to his rig; he wasn’t far from where he’d spotted the pup.  He dressed warm, knowing this could take awhile, and he dug out a large bath towel from his sleeper, in case he had a chance to scoop him up.  He looked along the tree line for tracks where he’d last seen him but the wind had already filled them in with fine snow.  He decided to bait the little thing out with pieces of the burgers, lining up bite sized pieces in a trail to the back of his rig.  Joe placed a larger cache a few feet away from the back bumper and sat on the narrow steel rail to wait.

He shivered and pressed his back more tightly to the rig as the wind whipped the snow around him.  Such a great idea you had, nothing but time to kill too.  Joe was on the verge of giving up, his thoughts turning to the miles he still had to cover.  But then he saw the scrawny pup, shivering, tentatively putting one paw in front of the other, nose testing the wind, stretching towards the snow covered treat only inches from its reach.  Once he decided to risk it, the piece of burger was gone in a gulp and the pup inched his way towards the next tidbit.  Each morsel was swallowed whole, the pup moving more confidently between them.  As he neared Joe’s position at the back of his rig, he stopped and then backed up.  With his back at the tree line he sat, shivered, and then whined.  The growling of his belly must have been louder than his fear and with Joe calling softly he crept ever closer to the small pile of treats.

“That’s it little one, I won’t hurt you,” he said squatting slowly.  He wasn’t yet within reach of the pup and he didn’t want to lunge at it for fear of missing and losing the trust all together.  He talked to the pup, reassuring him as he gobbled the scraps.  When he was done the pup ran back to the tree line and sat shivering again.  Joe felt a stab of disappointment and frustration.  He wanted to save this little soul from suffering but he was losing precious time on his trip home.

“Come on little fella,” he said reaching inside his coat for the rest of the burger.  He broke off a piece and tossed it on the ground where the pup had finished the last snack.  Still cautious but with some eagerness the pup moved towards the new offering.  While he swallowed it Joe broke off another larger piece, this time holding on to it.  He offered it, pleading with the pup to let him help.  As he held his ground waiting for the pup to make up its mind, he took in the details of its condition.

“Well you look a bit like a collie mix,” he said noting the long coat and black freckles on a mostly white body.  Black ears and a large black patch on the rump above a fringed tail, well what should have been fringed; right now it was mostly matted.  The pup’s hips and ribs were clearly visible and it shivered uncontrollably; it wouldn’t last too many more days out here.  As the pup stood up on its hind legs to reach for Joe’s offering he finally saw it was a female not a male.  He held his hand as steady as he could while she made a desperate grab for the food.  She backed away a few inches gobbling the larger portion with a few quick snaps of her jaws.  She stretched her nose forward and Joe produced another larger piece.  This time he readied his towel, hoping she would pause long enough for him to snatch her up.

“Come on little girl,” he said slowly moving his arm closer to his body.  The pup inched forward looking from the food to Joe and back again.  “That’s a girl, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Joe held tightly to the chunk of burger forcing the pup to nibble it from his fingers.  Slowly he reached around with his left hand and draped the towel over her back, scooping her to his chest.  He had expected her to fight so he dropped the piece of burger and cradled her to him.  While he could feel her heart pounding against him, she held still.  He tucked the towel more tightly around her and just sat for a moment talking to her.  His mind was reeling.  Now what do I do with her?  He unzipped his coat and tucked her and the towel inside and zipped her up snug.  He crossed the parking lot to the restaurant; he’d promised the waitress he’d let her know.

“I got her,” he said with a grin when she met him at the cash.

“Aww!  Poor thing,” she said when she saw the shivering nose peeking out of Joe’s coat.  “I’m so glad she’s safe now.”

“Yeah, but now what do I do with her?” Joe asked.

“Well there’s an animal shelter a few miles down the road, I guess you could drop her there,” she replied with a shrug.

“No,” Joe said making up his mind.  “I want to keep her.  I’ll take her home to Holly, what better birthday and Christmas present?”

The waitress laughed and nodded.  “She’ll be one happy little girl I’m sure.”

The waitress gave him directions to the pet supply shop at the next town.  “They even have a vet clinic attached if you’re worried about her condition.”

Back in the cab of his truck Joe made a nest on the passenger seat out of his coat and the towel and hoped the little girl would stay put while he drove.  He knew lots of drivers who took dogs with them on the road for company but he wasn’t sure they got such a rough start in the world as this one.

“Well little girl, let’s go find you some proper food and a collar and leash.  I think we’ll get a room tonight and give you a bath too.  Oh, and you should have a name as well,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot.  Joe chatted to the pup as he gained speed on the exit ramp, carefully pulling onto the highway.  Holiday traffic made his job tougher and the swirling snow didn’t help; once he’d attained highway speed he set his cruise control and reached over the pat the pup.  She was still quivering but as the cab warmed he was sure it was more nerves than cold.  He watched the signs and took the recommended exit for the pet store.  It was one of those big box stores he would normally avoid but he wasn’t in much of a position to be fussy.

Joe tucked the scrawny pup into his coat again and zipped her in tight.  He left the rig idling and hurried across the parking lot his head bowed to the sharp wind.  Once inside, his new little friend poked her nose out of his coat, greedy to inhale the scents of goodies long denied her.  A salesperson approached stretching out her hand but the little girl retreated.

“Sorry, she’s quite nervous, I’ve just rescued her from a truck stop a few miles back,” Joe explained.

“We heard a pup was dumped there, how awful!” she replied.  “But how wonderful you were able to rescue her.  Can I see her?” she asked patting the counter top.

Joe unbundled the reluctant pup and set her on the counter.  The clerk reached her hand into a big jar and retrieved several pieces of dried liver.  The little girl forgot her fear and worried the tidbits from the clerk’s hand.  As the pup was kept busy with liver treats the clerk gently felt her over with her free hand.

“I’m in school to be a vet tech,” she explained to Joe as she worked.  “She’s a bit dehydrated, she’s probably only had snow for moisture, definitely malnourished but she doesn’t seem to have any injuries.  I think a couple of days with some good quality food and she’ll be a different dog.”

“That’s great news!” Joe said.  “Thanks so much for checking her over.  I’m also going to need a collar and a leash for her, oh and some dishes too.  We’ll be travelling for a few days yet.”

Joe held the trembling pup while the clerk tried a few different collars on her.  In keeping with the season he chose the red velvet one with a gold coloured jingle bell on it.  Joe snapped a leash on and put the pup on the floor to see what she’d do.  She stood undecided for a moment then gave herself a hearty shake, jingling her bell in the process.  Joe’s face lit up, he hadn’t felt such joy in weeks.

“Jingle!  I think I’ll name you Jingle,” he said.  “It’s kind of corny but I think it suits her, don’t you?” he asked the clerk.

“Perfectly!” she agreed.

Joe paid for his purchases and walked Jingle outside towards a sparse patch of grass near the truck.  He wanted to give her a chance to pee before they headed out again but Jingle was determined to get to the truck.  She pulled on the leash and Joe let her have her way.

Inside the warm cab Joe arranged the dog pillow on the passenger seat and unwrapped the smoked bone the clerk had recommended.  Jingle settled down to gnaw on her first ever bone.

“That’s supposed to help keep your teeth clean,” Joe told her giving her a pat; Jingle’s tail wagged.

Joe eased the truck through the traffic and back on to the highway, he was hours behind schedule but he was happier than he’d felt in a long time.  Tomorrow they’d make an early start and catch up some.  Tonight he’d get a room, bath the pup and truly be able to wish Holly a happy birthday.  He was excited at the thought of her face when he arrived with Jingle.  He noted the time and calculated his distance to where he’d have to stop; his little girl would be waiting for his call at bedtime.  Jingle’s exhaustion had overtaken her and she was curled up sleeping with her tail across her nose.

Several hours later he was toweling off a different pup.  Although she was still skin and bones Jingle’s fine coat now gleamed, her white was like fresh snow and her black like Santa’s proverbial lump of coal.  She shivered in his arms but it was a still-damp shiver, not one of fear or mistrust.  Joe was certain the cold black nose sniffling at his ear lobe was happier to be anywhere away from that truck stop.  He set her on the floor and busied himself preparing a meal for her.  He could hardly contain his excitement at their little secret and he wanted Jingle well settled before he got on the phone with Holly.

“Happy Birthday honey,” he said a short time later.  “I can’t wait to get home.”

“I miss you Daddy,” a sad and sleepy voice replied.  “When are you coming home?”

“I’ll be home in three more sleeps baby and I have a super wonderful surprise for you!”

“A surprise?  But I thought you said you couldn’t do surprises this year.  You said the truck needed new tires so you could keep working?”

“Yes, that part was true, but sometimes good things happen you don’t expect.  That is truly a surprise.  This is the best surprise of all!”

“Tell me Daddy!”

“Oh little munchkin, nice try.  Count one more sleep until Santa comes, and three more sleeps until I bring home your birthday and Christmas surprise.  Now let me talk to Grandma, okay?  Love you, good night.”

“Okay Daddy, I love you too.”

“Hey Mom, how has she been?” Joe asked.

“Oh you know, one minute excited and pinging off the walls, the next sad and worried about when you’ll be home.  It’s the same as usual but harder this time of year,” his mom replied.

“I know, it’s killing me.  Next year will be different, I swear!  We’re going to have a better year,” Joe vowed.  “Listen Mom, I have a passenger I’m bringing home, it’s a surprise for Holly.  I rescued a pup abandoned at a truck stop a few hours back.  I hope you don’t mind.  I can bring her with me on the road so she’s no extra work for you,” Joe hurried on.  “I couldn’t just leave her, she’s skin and bone, only about 3 months old.”

“Joe, it’s fine.  I’m sure you did what you thought was right.  We’ll make it work.  Holly will be thrilled.  Speaking of, we need to get milk and cookies ready, and carrots of course.  Have a good rest and we’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks Mom,” he said, relief flowing through him, followed directly by fatigue.  “Hugs to the baby, love you both.”

“Love you Son.”

Joe hung up the phone and crawled between the sheets of the first bed he’d slept in in days.  He heard Jingles’s bell tinkle as she crept up from the foot of the bed to snuggle in beside him.  He buried his face in her sweet smelling fur and told himself they would have a better year.  Minutes later they were both asleep.

With Jingles on the seat beside him, the miles and days melted away under the new tires of the big rig.  It was late afternoon on the 27th when he pulled into his yard.  He’d stopped only for food and bathroom breaks, a few hours rest in his sleeper, but with the pup at his side he’d no need to linger for companionship, they’d made good time.

The front door opened and he could see Holly straining to bolt while his mom tried to get a snowsuit and mittens on her.  Joe hopped out of the cab, making Jingle stay put.  He rushed to scoop up his daughter in his arms.

“Happy birthday baby!  Merry Christmas!”

“Oh Daddy you’re home!” she said looking around.  “Where’s my surprise?”

Joe laughed and swung her around in the air, overjoyed by her giggles.  He stopped her in front of the truck, pointing up to the driver’s window.  Jingles had her nose pressed to the glass, leaving her signature art work there.

“A PUPPY!” she squealed struggling to get down.

Joe let her down as his mom joined them in the yard.

“Just wait Holly,” he said as she charged for the door of the big rig.  “Here honey, let me help.  We don’t want Jingles to get loose.”

Joe opened the door, telling Jingles to wait.  He’d already fastened her leash on her in case she bolted.  He scooped her up and held her while Holly stood awestruck.  She’d wanted a pet of her own for so long but there never seemed to be enough money or time between the three of them.  He set Jingles on the ground and instructed Holly to squat down to meet her.  Holly promptly planted herself in the snow, well protected by her snowsuit.

“Hi Jingles,” she said holding out her hand.

Joe held his breath watching the young pup approach his daughter.  He hoped they would be fast friends.  Jingles sat for a moment, assessing the situation.  Then making up her mind, she wiggled and pounced.  Holly fell backwards in the snow, squealed her delight while trying to fend off kisses.  Joe circled his arm around his mom’s shoulders and they both watched as the two youngsters became friends for life.

“Merry Christmas Mom,” he said.

“Merry Christmas Son.  A wonderful surprise indeed.”

Go Girls! :)

April 14, 2011

Three generations of hockey fans gather in Derek Whitlock’s living room to celebrate.  No, his Habs have not won the Stanley cup; they haven’t even stepped on the ice yet.  The cause for this celebration is Derek’s mom Margaret won first prize in her first ever hockey pool, $948.50.

Margaret wins 1st place!
Left to right; Derek Whitlock, Margaret Whitlock, Alexa Whitlock, Todd Whitlock.

Fifty-nine year old Margaret Whitlock entered a pool called Ron’s Rookies hosted by HockeyDraft.ca back in September; a box selection pool where she chose one of five players in each of 21 different boxes.  The points each player accumulates during the season are totalled and the person in the pool with the most points for all of their players wins.  Pool members have the option to trade up to two players and one goalie before the Christmas holiday break.  Margaret was in fourth place before trading Vincent Lecavalier for Mike Richards and Jason Pominville for Mike Krejci.  These two trades boosted her to first place; a position she never let go of.

A self proclaimed hockey mom, Margaret grew up watching the Leafs play.  She is a diehard fan because she was born in Toronto and was “brain washed” by her father.  However Margaret is also a fan of good hockey (no offence Toronto).  She watched her husband Cecil play his way up through the Fredericton Minor Hockey Association.  “I’d go to the rink and watch him play, I’d be the only one in the rink sometimes,” she said.  Cecil was with the Fredericton Industrial League then.  “And the boys both played, we went to all their games.”

Son Derek remembers most of their family vacations were scheduled around the various tournaments.  Today he plays in the Fredericton Gent’s League and is an avid Habs fan.  Brother Todd is a Philadelphia fan and Cecil say he just likes good hockey.  With all being fans of different teams the rivalry is fierce, and Margaret is right in the thick of things.  “Mom will call me, Toronto and Montreal will play on Saturday, and if Toronto wins she’ll call me the next day on Sunday morning and be like, ‘I didn’t see the game last night, do you know who won?’” Derek said.  Todd chimes in that she doesn’t call very often; the living room gets loud with banter.  Even two year-old Alexa gets in the action; Margaret asks her granddaughter what Daddy tells her to cheer.  “Go Habs Go,” Alexa yells.  When asked what Uncle Todd tells her to cheer, Alexa says “Boo Habs Boo!”

Alexa's share!
Two year old Alexa heads to her piggy bank with the coin.

Margaret admits she had help choosing her players and joked about sharing her winnings; however she also mentioned a shopping trip to Bangor, Maine on the weekend.  The trip had been planned earlier but wasn’t a sure thing; her winnings in hand she announced she would be going.  Whether Derek, Todd or Cecil will see their share is uncertain, however Alexa quickly deposited the $3.50 in coin into her piggy bank.

In a pool dominated by men this is the first time a woman has won the big prize.  Previously Chelsea Stevens won a $100 third prize in a regular season pool, but that’s the extent of the ladies’ luck to date.

As administrator for the hockey pool, I have always rooted for any “girls” who have entered.  My message board will wish everyone luck but always there is the tag “Go Girls”.  For the regular season 2010-2011 online access the password was ‘gogirls2010’, appropriately the password for the playoff pool is ‘yaygirls’.  Incidentally there are 8 entries from the Whitlock family this time, good luck to them all, but of course Go Girls!

Declutter for a Cause

April 14, 2011

With less than one month until the ‘Declutter for a Cause’ fund raiser, the staff at Gardiner Realty Royal LePage are busy with more than just selling houses.  Around the table in a small board room staff and volunteers rapid fire ideas at each other, interspersed with laughter.  If excitement was the colour yellow, you would swear you were in a field of sunflowers. 

On Saturday, May 14, 2011 offices from coast to coast will hold their annual garage sale for the Royal LePage Shelter Foundation.  For the second year in a row, Gardiner Realty in Fredericton will donate 100 per cent of their proceeds to the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Foundation. 

The mission of the Royal LePage Shelter Foundation is to help erase domestic violence from society through funding; not only women’s shelters but also education and awareness programs to prevent the abuse from happening.  “Last year across the country we raised $1.8 million toward eliminating family violence, so that is a huge contribution to the country and to put abuse out of commission,” said Fredericton owner and broker Lincoln Thompson.  Thompson says working with the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Foundation is a good fit for their office because they want to give back to the local community.

Left to right; Therese Murray, Sharon Watts, Lincoln Thompson, Kelly Murdock

Gardiner Office Administrator Sharron Watts spearheads the logistics of the annual event.  She says the fit with the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Foundation works because the Foundation acts as a distributor.  “They’re kind of the hub of it and they branch out to all the shelters in Fredericton and help all of them, so it’s not just one particular shelter, they make sure the wealth is spread around.  What they’re doing to stop family violence is incredible so we thought they would be the best group to benefit from our proceeds.”

As Executive Director of the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Foundation, Therese Murray was thrilled when Gardiner Realty contacted her in conjunction with their garage sale.  “It’s not every day that someone calls you and says ‘we’d like to raise money for you’, and that’s a huge benefit to anyl organization like the Foundation… when the community kicks in like this it really helps to keep momentum of the work that we’re involved in moving forward.”  The Foundation also provides grants for research projects, transition houses, youth groups and more.  “We can actually provide grants to all those necessary causes to put the money into the hands of those people who are doing the work,” Murray said. 

Last year the garage sale raised more than $3,200, triple the amount they raised the year before.  Watts says the biggest challenges from an organizational standpoint are getting all the donations set up for the sale and having enough staff and volunteers on hand to help the more than 300 visitors to the event.  Thompson says an added challenge is the middle of May is their peak time in the busy real estate season.

Gardiner Realtor Kelly Murdock says she juggles working the sale and keeping her clients happy on this busy Saturday.  “My first year I came in here to write up an offer in the middle of the day and I had my client meet me here,” she said.  Thompson chimes in that they bought a house and stuff from the yard sale.  Murray appreciates the “true donation” saying the staff give of their time and Royal LePage takes care of all the organizational costs so the charities can benefit 100 per cent.

Murdock says the amount the charities receive makes a big difference to how the public feels about donating.  “A lot of people… don’t give because they fear that the money is going towards something else, not going towards what they have a passion about.”

‘Declutter for a Cause’ garage sale is a donation of time for the staff of Gardiner Realty, however it takes the generosity of the community to have stuff to sell.  Gregg Doucette and staff at Premier Van Lines in Oromocto have donated their time and resources to the cause by picking up and storing all garage sale items and then delivering them to the sale.  Watts said last year they had three moving trucks full of goods and it’s already looking like this year will be bigger than ever.  Doucette listed off a number of items they had already collected including beds, headboards, TVs, office furniture, fitness equipment, a futon, leather wing back chairs and even an antique organ.

Watts says there is always too much stuff to price individually so they set up tables with different dollar amounts on them.  Larger items may be ticketed with prices.  Of course everyone loves a bargain at a garage sale, but the staff is asking buyers to keep in mind that “Negotiations are for real estate, this is for charity”.  Generosity at the garage sale directly impacts the work of the Muriel McQueen Fergusson Foundation and all the shelters and programs they support. 

Thompson expects to be on site very early on May 14 and says coffee and ‘Gardiner Shelter Wraps’ will be available for shoppers.  Wear your comfortable shoes and plan to stay awhile, it’s a big garage!  “So if you can picture our front parking lot virtually covered with goods and materials, furniture and clothes and books, you name it we had it.  Literally the whole parking lot…” said Thompson.

Support can come in various ways; donate your gently used items, come shopping or both!

Donations are still being accepted for the garage sale and can be arranged with Sharon Watts at 451-1233.  The ‘Declutter for a Cause’ garage sale takes place at 927 Prospect Street on Saturday, May 14 from 7am to 1pm.

Moose tails – New Brunswick style

This was the first magazine length feature story I wrote for my third year print class.  I have a great fascination and respect for this creature and love hearing the folk tales.  I wanted to combine them with some interesting facts about the moose.  I hope you will enjoy this piece.

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Margaret Rowney at the post office told me about it first, and local artist and musician J. Alex McGibbon backs her up.  They tell the tale of the government salt truck overturning years ago, leaving behind a load of salt.  Legend has it the salt leached down into the mud.

“Deer and moose and cattle and that, they just love salt and apparently it helps keep their electrolytes going or whatever salt does,” McGibbon said.  “So that attracts them out and whenever they need a fix, of salt as it were, they’ll come out there.”

Hundreds of slender white birch stand tightly like soldiers along both sides of the highway at Sucker Brook near the village of Gagetown.  A few relics of the towering pine or stately spruce are all that remain from the once lush forest destroyed by fire in the 1980s.  This is another draw for the moose; the young shoots are exactly what the awkward-looking beast loves to browse on. 

The highway curves tightly and slopes towards the brook.  On the lower side a salt reserve is created from the highway’s winter runoff.  Water, salt and fresh shoots add up to a moose haven and a driving hazard.  Fortunately, the locals are aware of it. 

Dubbed "Biggy Forsythe Moose" This big fellow watched us as we took a late winter walk up a logging road in Gagetown, NB. February 2009

 “The moose were just kind of, you know, topics of conversation… everybody knew they were there, every time you came around that turn you kind of took a little care,” said McGibbon.

McGibbon’s eyes light up as he tells me tales of growing up in Gagetown and of coming back to retire after a career of teaching art.  He talks of one fateful day when his wife’s bad luck turned into his good fortune.

“…it was a Sunday morning and my wife attends the Anglican Church…I get this call… and she says I locked my keys in my car, could you come up and open the door?  So I went up… and on the way up I saw two moose at Sucker Brook… and on the way back there were three there… the bull and the cow and the calf, and I said it’s a wonder that no one’s ever written something about the Sucker Brook moose, even a song.”

McGibbon hums and plucks at the strings of his Takamine guitar.  The bald eagle motif circles the sound hole as his fingers work out the chords of the moose song he wrote that day.

“I think I can remember all the words,” he says giving me a private performance. 

McGibbon divides his retirement time between music and art.  A member of the trio, 3 Point Hitch he and his band mates play local jamborees and perform regularly at the Creek View Restaurant in Gagetown.  While all three members dabble in writing McGibbon takes the credit for one of the group’s most popular tunes.

On a Saturday night in March you can feel the grips of Old Man Winter begin to loosen but folks still prefer to gather indoors.  At the Creek View tavern they’re out to support the local boys.  They clap and sing along with the mixture of cover tunes originally performed by greats such as John Prine, Gary Fjellgaard and Marty Robbins.  But the fans really get rocking when their beloved moose song is played. 

Sue McGibbon laughs and blushes when her husband gets to the third verse.  Alex McGibbon admits this part is fiction, but it’s fun nonetheless.

One day my girlfriend, Sue and I, a-courtin’ we did go
            We found a road out by the lake and we drove in real slow

Well, we were making out real fine, she offered no excuse

But standin’ there a watchin’ us was a great big jeezly moose.

The mostly white-haired crowd of about 50 sings along with the chorus while a plush moose toy dangles from McGibbon’s mic stand, a gift from a fan he says.

 His legs are long and his eyes are black and his horns are all amok

The biggest bull you’ve ever seen, the moose at Sucker Brook

The crowd thins out as the evening wears on and as people leave someone invariably cautions them.  “Watch out for the moose.”

Highway travellers are wary of the moose especially in the early morning and after dark.  Their black colouring makes them extremely difficult to see.  Although their eyes glow like deer, their height generally prevents headlights from reaching them.

For most people moose are a fleeting sight along the highway but for Dwayne Sabine they occupy most of his waking hours.  Sabine is a biologist specializing in moose.  He tallies the provincial moose population and calculates the number of licenses issued to hunters to keep the herd healthy.        

New Brunswick doesn’t have wolves so the moose have few predators.

“The only predator I think we really have here for moose is black bear, which will occasionally take new born calves in the spring.  That’s it, and then humans,” Sabine says. 

Besides death by hunter, there are approximately 400 moose killed on the province’s highways each year.  The other problem for moose is much smaller than man or machine, but it’s deadly just the same.

”The other big issue for moose is a disease called Parelaphostrongylus tenuis or P. tenuis; it’s also called brain worm.”    

Sabine describes the brain worm as a little nematode which uses deer, snails and slugs in its reproductive process.  The deer have evolved to tolerate the brain worm, but if moose, caribou or elk accidentally eat an infected slug or snail it can be lethal.  

“… [About] 40 to 50 per cent of all moose that get infected will die,” he said.

Sabine laughed when I asked if he’d had any encounters with moose.

“Well once, yeah I was doing bird surveys and I just happened to walk up on a cow moose with a calf probably a week or so old.”

It was near dawn on a clear day, Sabine was working as an ornithologist.  He was listening to the different bird calls to identify the species in the area to determine how they might be impacted by the proposed highway plan.

“I kind of surprised her and she kind of surprised me.  I stopped, anyway she looked at me for a few minutes and then decided she really didn’t want me around.”

Sabine was about 30 metres from her when they spotted each other.    

“As soon as the calf stepped out of the bushes and next to her, the hair on her neck and hump stood straight up and she laid her ears back, then she started coming.  No trees to climb so I ran.  It was the strangest thing, for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t attacking me… I had to run a few hundred yards back out to the road where my vehicle was.”

Sabine heard the bushes and trees crashing behind him as he ran for his life.

“I couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t caught me yet and when I ran up on the road and turned around she climbed right up the bank behind me…”

By the time Sabine made it to the road the cantankerous cow was only six or seven metres away. 

“Luckily a car came by and she moved across the road and I went to my truck.  It was only at the road that the broken leg was visible… hind leg broken about mid-way up and hanging by a couple of tendons. She was running on three legs.”

Sabine escaped what at best could have been a bad beating and possibly even death.

At this time of year the moose aren't typically aggressive. This same bull in the fall would be a different story. Photo by Tammy Murray

“Bad for her but good for me,” he laughs. “I waited about 20 minutes at the truck and then headed out again for my surveys.”

Sabine says there’s merit if not concrete evidence to the legend of Sucker Brook.  He says the moose require a source of sodium as part of their habitat and the cows especially need it for producing milk. 

“Sodium’s an element that’s in short supply naturally… so there’s [sic] a few places where you have natural salt licks where the bedrock has some salt in it,” but Sabine says these are rare.

“For moose they get a lot of their sodium actually from certain aquatic plants that tend to accumulate it in their roots and one in particular is… the yellow water lily, the pond lily.”

Hunters in search of moose must first win the yearly lottery draw for a license, then while the clock ticks down the mere 72-hour season use every trick in their rucksack to tag one. 

Mike Makepeace strokes the ears of his black lab as he sits at the kitchen table with his coffee and cigarette telling me his favourite hunting stories.

“They’re a pain in the ass until they get to the plate.”

Makepeace says planning is an important part of hunting these big beasts.

 “If you’re way out in the middle of nowhere and you get a big moose down, you gotta do something with it quick, you just can’t let it lay there.”

Makepeace relives one occasion where getting his moose from the forest to the freezer was extra challenging.

“It’s a pain in the ass, you got a moose a 150 feet out in the middle of the beaver pond – dead,” he pauses for effect.

“And you gotta get it out of there… [you] head down there in the woods with the tractor, end up getting the tractor stuck, then you end up getting it unstuck, finally getting to the moose with about 200 feet of rope, chain and stuff – get the moose pulled up close enough to the tractor to haul it out, then the tractor gets stuck again, and you can’t get it out,” he pauses again.

“So then you’re beat, you gotta get something to get it out of there right then…so then you go get the truck and the float and you load the bull dozer on and you bring it down and you unload it and you go down and get the bloody moose, you gotta get it up to the house… pain in the ass,” he says again, shaking his head.

The moose hunt begins on a Thursday in September, when the moose are rutting and calling for a mate.  Most hunters use moose calls while patiently waiting from a tree stand, for the beast to walk into their sights.  Makepeace is not like most hunters.

“Flashlight,” he says.  “Flashlight works best.  Wednesday night, avoid the rush.”

I’m not sure he’s joking.  

Makepeace says he’s not convinced of the legend of the overturned salt truck at Sucker Brook.

“They do lick the salt off the road and you can bait them with salt.  That’s what the Indians are doing down here… they would throw salt down in that little wet hole.  I used to do it out at the beaver pond too.  They’d come muck around in it, sip it and taste the salt.”

Makepeace has encountered moose on the highway, in the forest and even in his front yard by his daughter’s swing set.  He likes them best on his dinner plate.  Makepeace says he’s never been charged by a moose but he’s been circled by some bulls posturing for territory.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, pretty safe when you got a rifle…it’s quite an experience when you get two bulls or three bulls right within 50 feet around you and they’re all kind of jockeying for position… actually it’s a heart pumper for sure.”

While he feels confident holding a rifle, he knows driving his truck is not as safe.  Like most of the locals Makepeace thinks moose when he’s on the road.

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There aren’t any flashing lights and the lines of this crosswalk are faded.  You can tell who’s “from away” simply by how fast they’re driving.  Local traffic slows down here, especially when it’s dark.  The muddy tracks are generally contained within the lines but some stray up the centreline of the highway before they cross to a logging road.  Sucker Brook is more than just a place where the moose savour the salty mud; some argue it’s also the site of Canada’s only moose crosswalk.

Legend has it the crosswalk appeared overnight, painted on the highway as a joke by some of the locals.  Nobody will say who painted the lines originally, nor can they say how many years have passed since the paint was fresh.  Some would like to see the crosswalk repainted for the safety of the moose and drivers.  Others like Alex McGibbon would like it done to highlight the novelty of the Sucker Brook moose. 

“I’d go down and do it myself,” jokes McGibbon