Georgia Anne Butler's Blog

 

Whew! What you see above represents a big chunk of my life--17 years plus! Such a long road includes a long story, too long for a blog post, so I'll focus on the future. I will be releasing all three books (for middle grade readers) on March 20, 2021, the first day of spring. Since spring is my favorite season of the year, I'm more than happy with this launch date. I can imagine each book as a seed that will grow within the hearts and minds of my young readers.

If you'd like a free PDF file of the first chapter of the first book, An Odd Bird, simply send a request to my email address at pkbutler@ofthewing.com. Since this is not an automated process, you might have to wait several hours to receive it, but I promise to check regularly.

By the way, I'd be rude not to introduce as well book two, The Hawk's Message, and book three, The Shining Swan.

Otherwise, I invite you to investigate my new web site, designed specifically for this trilogy, where you can read more about each book and learn a little bit about me, too.

https://www.pkbutler.com

Check back for more updates on the release . . . and whatever other news I might have to share. Until then . . . 

What is more forlorn than a forgotten blog? Lots of things, obviously. But in my current state of mind, I feel sentimental about this particular blog began ten years ago at the start of the decade 2010. Is it coincidence that at the start of 2020, I should stumble upon it? I think not.

Life flows in cycles, and a new decade promises unimagined possibilities. At least, that's what I like to believe, especially now that my life expectancy might not exceed that of the two days-old kittens delivered to me (in July) by a neighbor who found them in her yard. I didn't want to adopt two new born kittens, especially since I already had two adult cats and two adult (and large) dogs. But when life gives you kittens . . . 

I mention this because when accepting them into my life, I recognized--for the first time in my life--that these kittens could possible out live me! For example, many cats have shared their lives with me, and those that live to old age typically pass around 17 years of age. Since I am 64, I would need to live at least to the age of 81 to provide these little ones a home for life. But according to my blog title 26 Years to Live (created ten years ago and which, like sand in an hourglass, looses time), I've just about enough time left to live. Hmmm.

I think it's time to extend my life expectancy from 81 to 88. (If you want to read the rational for my blog title, you'll need to checkout my original post of ten years ago). And since I can't change my blog title, I'll need to amend the subtitle, which will now read 24 Years to Live.  

So sleep well baby kittens. Your mother will still be around when you're old and frail and will never leave you alone.

Check back for updated images of these babies. Next time, I'll introduce them properly and share with you the musings of an "elder" who still has lots yet to do in the two dozen years left to her.

Until then  . . . 

Introduced by U.S. Representative Tom Rice of South Carolina, H.R. 1179 is titled "Discouraging Frivolous Lawsuits Act," which like most nefarious bills employs a name contrary to its purposes. But putting aside for the moment the issue of a citizen's right to sue the government without threat of financial ruin, I want to focus on another component. You'll need to read the language of this portion twice or even three times because you might not believe what you're reading:

"The bill repeals the authority of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to deny or restrict the use of any area as a disposal site for dredged or fill material when the discharge of those materials would have an unacceptable adverse effect on municipal water supplies, shellfish beds and fishery areas, wildlife, or recreational areas." 

In other words, the Republican-led House of Representatives doesn't think protecting your drinking water from polluters is necessary. Representative Scott Perry of Pennsylvania (4th District) is a Republican co-sponsor, along with 60 others. (I'm guessing most are Republicans but haven't as yet checked.)

I'm meeting with Representative Scott Perry tomorrow and intend to ask him why he doesn't care about the health of people, the environment, or wildlife.

Till then . . .

Recently I watched a movie about three birders each pursuing his  "Big Year," a phrase in the birding world that refers to a calendar-year effort to see and/or hear as many species of birds possible in a given geographical area, in this case, North America. A highly personal quest, a "Big Year" is also an informal competition among birding enthusiasts the world over to see who can identify the most birds.

I enjoyed the movie (and am currently reading the book), but perhaps that's a given because I, too, am a birder. 

I say this somewhat sheepishly because I've not been a good one for several years. The excuses are many, but I'll spare you a listing. Instead, I'm writing to say that to turn things around I'm beginning my own smaller version of a "Big Year."  I'm beginning now and am targeting a local nature preserve where I walk my dog on weekends--not technically my dog, a family member's dog who I watch on weekends.  Long ago I printed out a bird species list of this preserve, and as spring is the absolute best time to go birding--birding I will go! 

Keep posted on my Bird Blog http://ofthewing.blogspot.com to see what birds I add to this list.  As to photographs, I'll take them when possible (I'm not a professional photographer, far, far from it!), but it's not too easy with a dog in tow. More than likely I'll showcase selected species in my post with public domain photos taken by professionals.

Well until next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

To conclude book three in my trilogy Of the Wing, I returned to its setting: Black Castle, on the shores of Lough Gur, County Limerick, Ireland. In ruins since the 1600’s, Black Castle stood for centuries on the western approach to Knockadoon, a promontory over looking the “Enchanted Lake.” Here people have been living for more than six thousand years. An archeological treasure trove, the area is also rich in folklore wherein mythology, legend, and history converge to carry wisdom throughout the ages. And the common message of that wisdom is this: the natural world is magical.
Six years ago, I went to Ireland to find the perfect setting to conclude my trilogy about a young girl seeking an explanation for her power to attract birds of forest, field, and water. What better place to find the answer than the Emerald Isle? In Lough Gur, I found the perfect setting—an enchanted lake with tales of magic that span millennia. But I also needed a castle. Local author and historian Michael Quinlan (who wrote the Lough Gur Trilogy) suggested that I “resurrect” Black Castle, that is, create it anew in fiction. His was the perfect solution!
Here you see me standing before what was once the entrance to Black Castle (built in the thirteenth century). I hope you will soon come to explore it with me in my upcoming third book, Defender of the Wing.

Bridget came into our lives from a culvert under a country road. My husband David was out walking our other two dogs, Gandalf (a German Shepherd) and Sammy (an English Sheepdog mix), when he heard what he thought was the barking of a fox pup. For two days, he had heard this same bark, but always when he was deep in the woods with our dogs. This day, however, they were approaching the road when hearing the bark and all could tell its source: from within a drainage culvert.
My three boys went down to its mouth to investigate, David beckoning with a clicking tongue, Gandalf and Sammy with wagging tails and perked ears. Instantly a tiny form appeared: a small black puppy with a conspicuous white chest. Into David’s hands the little lab happily waddled to be uplifted and cradled against her rescuer’s chest.
So began our life with Bridget.  No more than two months old, this pup found a surrogate parent in Gandalf who lovingly tended her. And as a baby, she was given sleeping privileges in our bed, even as she grew to a size demanding an upgrade from queen to king-sized. Bridget was David’s angel and demonstrably so.  On her chest was the form of an open-winged angel or so could be interpreted of the suggestive flowing limbs.  Yet there was no need to interpret her disposition, for she was as sweet as an angel.

David died two and a half years later, leaving me with my sweet girl Bridget and two big boys.  Our lives continued as we spent every day in the woods and up upon the pasture, seeking our adventures and joy.  With passing time and age my two boys left me to rejoin David.  And today Bridget, too, has rejoined our “boys.”  She lived a long life on Earth, 13 years, and though I will miss her dearly, I’m so happy that she’s even now running into the loving embrace of David, with Gandalf and Sammy greeting her eagerly with wagging tails and perked ears.

Gift of Power: The Life and Teachings of a Lakota Medicine Man by Archie Fire Lame Deer
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Though the second half of the book provides much insight into the culture and beliefs of the Lakota people, The Gift of Power is not what I expected. Ideally, I expected to be transported by the beauty and mysticism of a devout spiritualism based on respect for Mother Earth and all living beings.  However, the author devotes the first half of the book to his biography before becoming a “medicine man.” And while I found his childhood memories relevant and interesting, Archie Fire Lame Deer’s life as a Hollywood stunt man, rattle snake catcher, and rowdy drunk was overlong in the telling, and I’d even venture to say “off point.”  Not until much later in life does Lame Deer pursue his spiritual destiny as a “medicine man.”

When the author does finally turns to discuss the mysticism and beauty of the Lakota’s belief systems and culture, he somehow delivers this information more as an ethnographer than practitioner. I mean the information is more fact-based than I expected.  To clarify, I was not moved or inspired. However, I understand that his father’s book (Lame Deer: Seeker of Vision) is more authentic in voice and focus. I searched for this on Amazon and read the first two pages (sneak-peek). I found it immensely intriguing and earnest—an elder wise man speaking on direct spiritual experience from his heart and spirit.  So I will definitely reader Lame Deer: Seeker of Vision. Again, I don’t mean to dismiss the significant information provided in The Gift of Power, but its telling was not inspired.


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Mr. Midshipman Hornblower by C.S. Forester
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If you want to live the life and adventures of a midshipman (turned lieutenant by book's end)  of the Royal Navy, beginning in the year 1793, then you'll love this book. Action is the operative word as nearly every chapter contains some incredible and heroic exploit of the then 17-year-old Horatio. The book is meticulous in its historic context and, especially, in its exhaustive attention to nautical detail (I suspect you could earn a degree on sailing the high seas in a "44-gun fifth-rate frigate"). Yet it's a steep learning curve for anyone with zero nautical knowledge. That said, you learn to sail over the terms, imagining their meanings, swept along on powerful story-telling waves of mythic proportion.


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Some cats are natural models. They live for the camera, know exactly what the lens wants. Don't believe me? Then see for yourself.

I approach Tony relaxing on the lounge. "Hey, Tony.  Can I take a few frames?"


"Sure," he says.  "I was just wondering what to do next.  How's this pose? Do I look cute enough?"

"Great!" I say. "Go with it."


"Right," he says, stretching out seductively. "Are you getting this?"



"Okay. Okay. Here's my 'come hither' look.  Humans can't resist me when I strike this pose."

"You're so right," I say, barely able to keep from throwing the camera aside to grab him up into my arms.





"Hmmm," says Tony, seeming suddenly detached.  "I think I'm bored with this game."




"I'll catch you later.  I've got some trees to climb."

It's May Day, my favorite day, and I've been celebrating with the birds. Today I put out my hummingbird feeder and shortly thereafter received my first ruby-throated guest of the season--a female.  Word traveled quickly, though, because moments later a male arrived. Since then these two have come and gone several times but always--WAIT! He's here now but too quick for me to get a photo. (I'm sitting on my deck.)

I've been sitting out here off and on hoping to capture a shot, but the hummers have been camera shy. Happily some of my other dining guests are less "antsy" and have properly posed while munching on black-oil sunflowers seeds. I like that they're looking at us (don't miss the white-throated sparrow in the lower left corner), because I LOVE looking at them.

Till next time . . . And here's hoping you thoroughly enjoy the month of May!

Georgia Anne