Inner Joy: Ginny Temple of Candle Light Dreams

Inner Joy: Ginny Temple of Candle Light Dreams: I'm Ginny Temple of Candle Light Dreams. At present I'm the teacher down at Union School where Celeste the star of the story went to school....

Ginny Temple of Candle Light Dreams

I'm Ginny Temple of Candle Light Dreams. At present I'm the teacher down at Union School where Celeste the star of the story went to school. Back when we were kids I was the one who led "shy" Celeste around. I made sure she had a best friend which was me. We met the day she moved in to my parents tenant house. Will, my cocky and mean brother, and I walked across the farmyard to meet the new family. To be honest Celeste was a bit messy and bedraggled. Through the years she always had the faded look of a girl whose parents were having to watch every penny. But me, I simply adored her. That first day I learned her doll was tucked away somewhere in a box and by the way she stared at the ground when I asked where her dolls were, I could tell she thought I wasn't going to like her. What I first loved was her hair, Celeste has always had the prettiest auburn hair just the way her mother did. Her sister Bonnie the outspoken brilliant one has the black hair.
Moving.ahead, I forbid Celeste to like Will, my brother. It didn't matter what we were doing, playing Union Aid or using the two seat outhouse, he was a ornery and conceited as they came. I was a third grader when I told Celeste she had one choice.We were walking to school and I said, "So Celeste are you in on my Hate Will club?" She got all shook up and flustered because I told her there was a pig hanger for hogs, a pot to boil them in, and an ice pick in the particular shed we were using for our club house. Well, guess what? She thought I was going to kill Will and hang him on the pig hanger. I told her that was a good idea! Mostly I  wanted to make the gizzard cry.
If I told you the rest of the story about what happened to Celeste and how the story ended, you'd be oh so surprised. But then, it wouldn't be a story would it? Presently,Will, and Celeste and I are in Hawaii; we are being readied by the Indie Counsel for our debut.  So much has happened over the years and now that we're entering WW11 there's so much more happening. Just don't let Celeste fool you. She may be tall and beautiful, but she's got more strength than most anyone I know. To survive her ordeal with her "psyco" Aunt Sylvie and that pedophile pastor she had to. See you in a couple of days for more.

Candle Light Dreams Nebraska-the Villian and Sidekick

      When  you write a book it's possible to spend so much time with your characters that they become real. I know that my husband for one heard me talking to these people in the bedroom where I compose.Sylvie, the socialite, .conceited and evil, .prevented Celeste, a child of twelve, from being the Queen of Hearts in her Union School play Union is the school that;s just a mile down the country road-Celeste's parents had just died and Miss Hattie England wanted Celeste to feel special.Sylvie arrived with Elvira  the day before and took her to her new home in Lincoln. Poor Celeste was so discombobulated by bossy, sassy, Sylvie that she actually trhew up on Sylvie's new alligator shoes. Sylvie's feet stunk all night long. Served her right.
    Elvira, a woman with leg hair so long that it needs braided, is a nothing who gets a kick out of watching /Sylvie hurt people. These parts are written with some humor but beneath the laughs, the abuse is stark and real. At one point, sweet shy, Celeste whose been shut off and isolated from the world, decides to kill herself. Something from the past shows up and she regains hope in her darkest moments. 
   A pedophile pastor gets a hold of her. He grooms her and prepares her for the big moment. I won't say what happens, but Elvira knows what he is and Sylvie doesn't care. she'd rather ruin Celeste than help. I was a child therapist and i write from experience I include  humor to break the darkness of what's happening to a child.
     Part two is joyful and funny as Celeste falls in love with a rancher who comes to Lincoln to court her. Tonight they are all in Hawaii-these people from the 30's and 40's. They're being made perfect for you to meet on paper. Editors from the Indie Author Counsel are babysitting them inside a flash drive. I just hope that they let Sylvie out long enough to wash her head in some smelly fish water, but that they also remember to give skinny Celeste an extra midnight snack. She's my baby. Goodnight...

Cookies for Country School Party-Union School

     The tall stout farmwife had taken this one day at home to bake for the school valentine party tomorrow.  She’d volunteered these same cookies every year since baking them for Will, her oldest son’s kindergarten parties. Even Clark’s dire condition wasn’t stopping tradition. Four year old Howie was nibbling on a cookie, crumbs and frosting bits dropping on the floor. Sylvie chuckled, winking at him. Just up from his nap, Howie wanted Celeste to read him a book.

     “Allow me,” Sylvie said, a huge grin bringing out both a twinkle and a bulge in her eyes making her look like Grandma Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. “Come sit in my lap and we’ll read,” she said, attempting to coax him, Bev intervening.

       “Sylvie, you don’t want to get frosting on your rabbit fur,” Bev warned.

      “Icky sticky fingers,” Elvira said, wrinkling her nose.

      “Yes, you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt rabbit fur, but this... it’s my newest mink.”

      “Can I get anything right?” Bev asked. “Your mink-it’s different than mine.” 

     Ginny was about to remind mother that hers was rabbit but was topped cold when Sylvie came towards her, ready to apply a strangle hug. “You’re Celeste. I meant to get over here first thing to give you a welcome kiss. Then I thought to hold off. She’s at that age...I told myself. Give her a chance to get to know you. Goodness sakes...you are a cutie. You remind me of Bonnie. My sister did have quite the kids-your coloring, it’s from your father.  We’re going to have a ball. You’ll fit right in with my friend’s children. Most are quite fashionable. It won’t take much with you and ...”

      Ginny stood listening- believing the plans had been changed-She, not Celeste, would be going with this woman, an idea she found tempting and intriguing. Would Celeste be joining them or going with Mom?

     “She means me,” Celeste mouthed.

     “Wait! That’s Celeste,” Ginny stammered. This wasn’t going to be good. Sylvie was sold on her, not Celeste. Worried, she knew that Celeste’s hatching would happen but not yet .She was in a terribly awkward stage; before long Ugly Duckling would hatch and find her mother’s beauty and gracefulness. Auntie was after the hatched and matured “chick,” the one who’d be popular with the right girls. Sylvie turned towards Celeste.

     . “Oh yes,” she said, through a forced smile, appraising the eighth grader, a furrow of letdown forming between thick eyebrows. “My! What have we here? You resemble your mother. Well…Of course. I didn’t look closely at you earlier. The other girl, she speaks up- makes herself known. So you’re Celeste?” The sparkle in Sylvie’s eyes waned, waxed, waned. “Yes. Let me look at you. Hum, you have Shirley’s same curly tangles, the longish nose, the taper fingers, feint freckles.”

Giving My Family Away

     Have you ever had those exhaustive moments when it's so bad that you would give your children away? We hear people say, "I'm so disgusted with Tommie. I could give him away. I had days when my son and I went to the doctor for some attention.He was fussy, the weather was hot, and frankly I thought if it was just a little tummy ache, some Pep to Bis mo would solve the problem, and we'd both get to visit with the doctor-Sort of a secondary gain for a lonely mother on one of those long summer days. Today the kids go to the sitter all year long even on the days mother doesn't work. This new generation has it thought out.
     Well, last night I did what I've been tempted to so. I know some nice strangers who I thought would give my kids a fair shake. I was exhausted. I said, "I can't do this anymore. I'm afraid I will break the computer or do worse if you don't take my beloveds. For more than two years I've  spent eight hours a day with them, talking to them and about them, dressing these kids, feeding them, deciding their activities and hair dos and even crying for one or two...I'd had it. It took courage. I have never seen the people they went to. I said, "take them and I will pay you for keeping them and cleaning up their act". I gave away Celeste whose 12, Howie just one, Ginny also twelve, Mike who was just injured by a bull and might not walk, and Will a tease.,14 They are out of my hands. I have been asked that come Monday, I quit interfering with their lives. So, this is my question to you? Did I do the right thing. Should an author finish her book and turn over her creations? My nose prickled but I trust that Indie Author Counsel will comb their hair, brush their teeth, and polish them up nicely. After that---they go to  press an then to a book shelf.  I did my best. Come meet them. They're precious.

God's Sand hills- From Candle Glow Dreams Nebraska

May 25th-1928   Moving Day

    He figured he’d miss these hills-no other like them anywhere. As a boy who’d stayed alone while Dad went on his drives. Al found them a wonderful source of entertainment. He hiked all day while looking for a nonexistent lake to swim in. And tthere was the time he and a friend  decided to dig to China. Al kept waiting for the Chinese to crawl up out of the earth, their digging going  deeper and deeper. Returning home, Dad wasn’t impressed to find a hole big enough for the foundation of a house. Other fun included sledding, hunting for rabbits, playing at the blowouts, camping under the stars. The delight was endless. Some might find the hills empty and barren, but to a young Al they were the world’s largest playground.

   Suddenly, there it was. The first blush of dawn rolling out over the grassy hills that spread for miles. Yellows, reds, purple, a dab of blue and pink... Blessings, amazing blessings. These hills, their breezes blowing,  the sand sparkling, a windmill whirring, grasses bending with the wind, a cow pond, circles ripping outward, yellow flowers singing. “Lord,” he whispered, looking upwards, brushing tears from his cheeks. This! All this!  The beginning of another day, the unfold. Slowly, then faster, he walked to the house and his sleeping family.

I Love A Rodeo

Rodeos are risk and chance-Man and horse caught in a dance-Romance, Summer nights. Bright lights, Soda Pop, Popcorn, Saddle horns, Star lite,Star brite, Let's go out to the rodeo tonight-

I love a rodeo-
Warm summer nights
A lasso going round and round-Heading for the sky
Then diving down- horse stands still
Man hits the ground-
Ties calf to count of ten-
Crowd laughs and claps
calf jumps up...runs away-Hey
What say-I love a rodeo-

Rodeos are romance on warm summer nights, risk, stars in the sky, a dance to county music, bandstands, parades, cheers, broncos bucking right up to the sky, man twirling down and around coming hard to the ground-Round and Round and Round-I love a rodeo-

Rodeos were part of my life as a c-child back when my father was a winning roper-He donated the land for the Gothenburg rodeo grounds-We used to go when the rodeo was quite  lively in the fifties. Later it seemed to quiet down-It's good to see it alive and thriving-One of my memories was the watermelon contest-i spent many nights in a white t shirt practicing the messy art of fast watermelon eating because i wanted to win and impress my eight year old boy friends-i won but I don't think I much impressed anyone but myself-What I wouldn't give to return to those days of fun, wind, sun, horses, cows, the whole thing-Listening to KRVN-The River-Lexington Nebraska  really makes it all come back-I love a rodeo