Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 06-30-2020

Dear Reader,

Despite having lectured in English Literature, today's guest author, Suzette Hill had never hankered to write a novel. However, after retiring and on a whim, she embarked on a short story--to see what the creative process felt like. She found out. For the story grew, and to date Suzette has produced twelve novels comprising two series. The first concerned a bumbling vicar (plus cat and dog), who thoughtlessly committed murder; the second features a bright young woman who, with eccentric companions, becomes embroiled in murky skulduggery. Satirically humorous, both series span the 1950s. Deadly Primrose (starring the vicar's sister) is the latest sequel to the first series. The second's current tale is The Cambridge Plot--absurdities in English academia. Suzette lives a merry, but blameless life in rural Herefordshire in the UK.

Please do say "Hello." Email: [email protected]

Not planning, but spinning!

As a novelist I often think how pleasant it would be to have an ordered mind, a mind instinctively geared to plan and arrange, to devise ends whose means are meticulous and whose route assured and logical. Yes, how comforting to have supreme mastery over one's material and to know exactly where it is going! There are such authors, and I envy them their logic and control.

Alas, I am not so endowed, am not of that ilk; and my plans, such as they are, soon come adrift and I am left in a 'cloud of unknowing'. But surely, I hear you ask, a so-called skeleton draft would be immeasurably useful. It would give direction and 'structure,' would be a firm scaffolding on which to harness your flitting thoughts! With the bones already in place you would then merely have to flesh the skeleton with detail and niceties of style, i.e. create the 'texture'.

Hmm. This is precisely what I used to tell my students: organise first and write afterwards. But the moment I took up my pen to write 'fiction' such sane advice vanished in leaps and bounds, and I wrote as the spirit moved: intuitively, nudged by instinct not logic. Why? Because it seems I am less concerned with puzzles per se than with people; and it is the latter--the invented characters with all their quirks, oddities, lusts and conflicts--that really absorb me and dominate the whole imaginative process. It is 'their' lives and antics, rather than the steps of a prescriptive narrative, that directs the drama. So yes, as with some of my colleagues' novels (reassuringly!) mine are what can be called evolutionary and 'character driven', relying less on the ramifications of a premeditated plot for their momentum than on the wayward cavorting of individuals--including cats and dogs!

Naturally, not sticking to a cogent plan has its downside--writer's block, irritation, bemusement etc. But it has its benefits too. For with only a hazy sense of how things will proceed, I write to find out. Thus in a way I am telling 'myself' a story, and never quite know what or who is round the corner. It is a process of exploration and discovery. And it is partly that element of lurking surprise that keeps me writing!

-- Suzette A. Hill
Email Suzette and say "hello," [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column 06-29-2020

Dear Reader,

I don't like it, I don't know how I lost it, but I feel sad and I want it back. I've lost the spontaneity of something I used to love--wearing a vintage hat. It used to be an everyday thing for me. It felt totally natural. Put on a shirt, skirt and shoes and then pick out a vintage hat from my collection and I was ready to go--anywhere. The market, the dentist, taking my cats to the vet. I didn't think twice. I felt fun and fancy free when I was wearing one of my hats.

I was introduced to the vintage look when my friend's husband passed away years ago. He had been ill for a long time and the heart transplant that doctors thought would solve the problem, unfortunately didn't. My friend owned a vintage clothing store at the time, and I offered to help out as she was going through a difficult time. Every day I volunteered in her store I was wearing one of my vintage hats--and I absolutely loved it! After I stopped helping out at the store, my everyday habit of wearing a vintage hat continued, or I guess I thought it did. Granted, I'm not going out all that much these days, but looking back, I realized it had been a few years since I'd worn one of my hats. And I wanted to change that, so in the midst of writing today's column, I took my favorite hat off its hat stand and gently put it on my head. Instantly, I smiled because the 'hat magic' was back. And when I looked in the mirror, I smiled even more.

But later, as I was ready to walk out my front door, I started thinking, 'Should I wear this? What will people think? People are going to stare at the hat.'

Thankfully I fought my way through the self-doubt, finally believing what I know to be true, 'Yes, Suzanne, some people will stare, but the hat brings out the best in me and apparently in some other people too. Because the hat made some people smile, and they even complimented me on how adorable it was.'

And the people who couldn't appreciate the fun of wearing a vintage hat? Not to worry, they just haven't experienced the 'hat magic' yet, but give them time, they will.

Looking for a vintage hat photo? I'll get some photos of all of my hats and publish them in a future column.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column 06-26-2020

Dear Reader,

Thank you very much to everyone who sent in a memorable bird story this week. I wish I could have published them all in my column. Please do remember your bird story could very well be the beginnings of your entry for the Write a DearReader contest this fall.

Book club reader Martha H., who I think has been reading with me since the club began, shares her remarkable story today.

There are more stories and photos at this link.

My beloved husband Betts died three years ago, June 26. The morning of June 28, close to 6 a.m., I walked down our sidewalk to the street to get the morning newspaper. Walking back, a bird flew very, very, fast--zoomed--right past my head, so close that its wings brushed my right cheek. I was so startled--at first I thought, it's a bat because it was so fast. But it was larger than a bat and definitely feathered; I had felt the feathers on my cheek. It zoomed around the front door light three times and then off into a tree, where it landed and sang in an almost conversational way.

A bat? A bird? Betts! He had died after 11 days in the hospital and as he became more and more ill, and we realized he was not going to get well, we had asked him, if he could, to visit us or give us some sort of sign that he was fine. We also talked about what he was most looking forward to in heaven, and he had said flying and singing.

I hadn't been able to see what kind of bird it was, just its outline against the light--it was about the size of a large robin, or a jay. On New Year's Eve, having been with my local daughter who lives with her family about five minutes away, I had come in and went to the front door to turn off the porch light. It was about 5:30 p.m. and already dark. Through the glass in the front door I could see a big shadow zooming toward me--a bird--three times around the light and off. This time I could see the bird, though I had never seen one like it before. It was a solid color, orangey-brown. I've been talking to people and looking at bird books, trying to determine what kind of bird it is--we've narrowed it down to probably a thrush, though I haven't found a picture of a solid colored thrush yet. Two friends, one in NC and one in FL, said they have had birds like that in their yards.

I truly felt this was a message or messenger from Betts, keeping his promise with 48 hours of his death, and coming again with the new year, to let me know he's in touch. Such a blessing!

Now birds--of all kinds--have become really, really special to me!

-- Martha H.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Got kids who love science? Check out what author Jennifer Swanson (who runs the Solve It! For Kids science podcast) has to say about new her book BEASTLY BIONICS: Rad Robots, Brilliant Biomimicry, and Incredible Inventions Inspired by Nature. For a chance to win free copies, to talk with the authors, and more, see KIDSBUZZ.

Dear Reader Column 06-25-2020

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for sending in your bird stories. Reading them is the perfect way for me to find calm and a feeling of peace, even if only for a brief moment. Enjoy today's stories from readers and there are more stories and photos here.

"Hi Suzanne, many years ago when my family had just moved from the city to a brand new house in the country, we woke up to flapping noises in the living room where the fireplace was. There was a beautiful male mallard duck flying into the windows trying to get out. My mom kept the little kids in the doorway while my dad and I tried to corral it. After one hard hit, it seemed stunned, so I quickly picked it up. It's heart was beating so fast! But I think he knew I wanted to help him. We walked out of the slider and onto the deck where I lifted him high and off he flew! That memory comes to me every time I see ducks in the wild." -- Mary S.

"Suzanne, my bird story is short but I hope it brings a smile. We often hear owls hooting around our house and if my husband is outside, he hoots back, trying his best to replicate their calls. I'm not sure if they understand his 'dialect,' but they often reply anyway, which delights him. We figure the owls should have names but we don't know how many there are, so we refer to them individually or collectively as 'Jolson.' You know, Owl 'Al' Jolson!" -- Anna D.

"Suzanne, for the past three weeks we have had an unexpected alarm clock. Each morning, around 6:00 a robin starts hitting at our bedroom window. This robin will fall to the ground, get up and strike the window again and again. It will eventually leave for about 15-20 minutes, then start in again and this will go on for a couple of hours. Later in the day, it will repeat hitting the window. There is a tall bush at this window and we searched for a nest in the area. No nest has been found, but there are a couple of eggs under the window that appear to have been hatched. Yesterday, we put a photograph of an owl's eyes in the window. It's 7:30 in the morning and it appears that this might be the answer to eliminate the activity. We've been so concerned that this robin would seriously injure itself." -- Donna S.

"My bird story involves a beautiful spring faux wreath that I purchased from Michaels that I hung on my front door. I noticed that after a week of hanging it up, I kept hearing little birds chirping everywhere. I wasn't sure where that was coming from. When I came home one day, I saw that a mother bird had built a nest within my faux wreath! The mother had given birth to a few baby birds. I didn't realize there was another family living here with me! In order to ensure the safety of these birds, when the babies grew older, I eventually moved the nest to another real tree so that they could grow much better there." -- Nina W.

"When I was growing up my folks would feed the birds in the morning and in the evening--our house set back on a lot in the country. The birds would sit on the trees and the fence, and wait for when it was time to be fed. If we were late, the birds would fly under our window awnings and peck on the window--and even peer inside to see if we were coming." -- Mary M.

I'd love to read your bird encounter story. Send it to: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise this title deserves your attention:

(Fiction) SEXY LOVE by Carly Phillips

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

 

Dear Reader Column 06-24-2020

Dear Reader,

The book club has gone to the birds and I couldn't be more thrilled! Apparently you're enjoying the bird stories, too. Because readers sharing stories about their bird encounters has been the most popular topic we've ever had at the book club. And I can see why, because as I'm writing this morning, I hear two new red-bellied woodpeckers out in our old oak tree. The 'apartment' in the old oak tree just became vacant when four young woodpeckers flew off on their own. And now it looks like another newlywed couple will be moving in and starting their own family. I'm very excited and I'm keeping my binoculars close by.

Over the next two days I'll continue sharing readers' bird stories and even some heart warming photos. (The link is at the end of today's column.) If you haven't sent me your bird story, I'd love to read it. Email me at: [email protected]

(Your story might be just the thing to expand on and save for this year's annual Write a DearReader Contest in September.)

"We have a wren that comes back every year, and builds a nest in two bird houses we have hanging from the gutters of the house. When the nests are finished the hard work starts, finding the right mate. The male spends hours singing from the top of our umbrella cover looking for the right partner. The funny thing is, when he finds his partner and she inspects the nests and picks one to start her family, she throws everything out of the house and rebuilds it to her satisfaction. My friend always says if you want something done right don't ask your husband. Sounds like birds feel the same way. Thanks for letting me share my bird story." -- Joanne S.

"My bird story is a little different. We have lots of birds who return every year to build their nests in the same spots. They are always so quick and efficient at building a solid nest. It was a shock to me when I went out to bring in my laundry from the clothesline, that I hung that morning, only to discover the clothes were on the ground. Apparently the birds like my clothesline for building their nest and managed to shred it apart!" -- Maria K.

"Suzanne, I had to Google if a chicken was a bird, and the answer was yes! Every spring we would get a delivery of 100 baby chicks which we would nurture in the basement under warm lights until the weather warmed up for the outdoor chicken coop. I developed a close relationship with a beautiful Cornish hen who had a malformed leg. This bird followed me everywhere from morning until night, perching on my handlebars, shoulder, or sitting next to me on the tractor seat. It was a beautiful love story to behold. I would sometimes spend the night in the coop cuddled to my forever friend. The neighbors would love to give us rides on haystack carts to show us off.

As some love stories don't have happy endings, this is the doomed story of my first love. One morning as I raced out the door to begin my day, I was greeted with mass carnage. A fox had obliterated the whole stock of laying hens. Even in death, my beloved Hennie was beautiful. We had a tender burial with over 100 mourners. I still remember the softness of her feathers and feel her gentle beak of a kiss in my dreams." -- Alice S.

To read more stories and see photos of the birds, click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Got kids who love science? Check out what author Jennifer Swanson (who runs the Solve It! For Kids science podcast) has to say about new her book BEASTLY BIONICS: Rad Robots, Brilliant Biomimicry, and Incredible Inventions Inspired by Nature. For a chance to win free copies, to talk with the authors, and more, see KIDSBUZZ.

Dear Reader Column 06-23-2020

Dear Reader,

Kyle McCarthy, today's guest author has a new release, Everyone Knows How Much I Love You. Her fiction has appeared in The Best American Short Stories, American Short Fiction, and the Harvard Review. A graduate of the Iowa Writers Workshop, she lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Kyle would love to hear from you! You can reach her at [email protected].

Most of us have done it before: painted a room the wrong color. A bad color. Well, last September, I painted my front hall pink. Not pale rose, not a shy girl's blush, but Pepto-Bismol pink. Right away I knew it was a mistake, but I was too stubborn to stop. After all, I had vowed to stop treating my apartment, where I had lived for seven years, like a temporary spot. I wanted to make it a home, and fill it with the bright colors I loved.

But I did not love this color. This color was childish and cheap. My mom, after seeing a photograph, was politely appalled. She reminded me that I could always repaint. I said I would, but knew, deep down, that I lacked the energy.

Then a funny thing happened: friends, over for dinner, complimented the color. They said it was like being wrapped in a sunset, or warm embrace. Under the shadowy light, it glowed. I thought about how many years I had spent thinking pink was frivolous, girly, babyish. That it was unserious. Or worse: in bad taste. For shouldn't a woman, above all, be discrete and well-mannered? Shouldn't vulgarity be avoided at all costs? No, of course not! How silly of me. I decided I liked my outlandish walls. Maybe I was even proud of them.

Fast forward three months, and I'm choosing the cover for my book. My editor likes one version, my agent another. I find myself, against my better judgement, gravitating again and again to the one of a woman looking away, the title exposed in trompe l'oeil gashes, the whole scene lit in a hallucinatory savage salmon. That one, I finally decide.

Not until last week, unwrapping my carton of author copies, did it hit me. My bright pink hall; my bright pink book. Unwittingly, I had chosen the same color twice. Or maybe not unwittingly: maybe learning to love the boldness of my walls helped me learn to love the boldness of my book. It helped me choose a fierce, unsettling color to house its fierce unsettling heroine.

All those months ago, when I was picking out a paint color, I was indeed making a home--just not the home I thought. Painting the front hall was a kind of practice for "painting" my book. It helped me see that outlandish is okay, even fun. And so there, between two bright pink covers, my outlandish heroine--who I somehow had the foresight to name Rose--will live.

-- Kyle McCarthy

Drop Kyle an email at: [email protected].

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

 

Dear Reader Column 06-22-2020

Dear Reader,

It was a fun 'bird' week at the book club. The baby birds in my daughter's back yard were robins. I'm happy to report the robins are happy and healthy and I think, almost ready to head out on their own.

Thank you to everyone who shared a bird story--they were delightful. You might consider expanding on your bird story and enter this year's Write a DearReader Contest. Watch for details later this summer.

Drum roll... Congratulations to last week's bird contest winners: Rachel B., the winner of the drawing for sending in a bird story and Amy B., the winner of the Guess-What-Bird drawing.

When my husband and I were raising our children, we had a spacious, sunny kitchen and there was always a cage off to the corner, with a soft, loveable guinea pig inside. "Screech, screech," the pig would know when we were peeling fresh vegetables and he'd holler (loudly) for his share of the scraps. To this day, whenever I'm peeling fresh vegetables, part of me misses Pig.

Pig would go outside on good weather days. He'd stay close to the foundation of the house and hide in the bushes. It was an every other day ritual, until one day when a huge hawk spotted lunch. I got Pig before the hawk, but that ended his roaming days. Instead, I'd put him outside in his cage. But it just wasn't the same for me; maybe it wasn't the same for Pig either? I missed looking out the window and watching Pig enjoying the outdoors. I imagine he missed feeling the warm grass underneath his bottom and the opportunity to occasionally nibble on a dandelion. And even though Pig might have been thinking, 'I bet I could outrun that hawk,' my motherly instinct knew better.

Over the years, when our children were growing up, we had several pigs because even though we gave each one tender loving care, after four years we'd have to say good-bye. "Guinea pigs don't have a long life span," I remember explaining to a friend one day when I had to cancel our lunch because Pig died the night before.

I think sometimes people feel awkward when they mention their pet is sick or has passed away, because the concern in their voice sounds as if they are talking about one of their children. But in a way, they are--even when they're remembering a guinea pig...."screech, screech."

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

SEXY LOVE by Carly Phillips

I've always found forbidden romances intriguing and what is hotter than a professor and his student? My new book tells the story of a mom whose future is riding on this chance at an education and a professor who is just shy of getting tenure. The last thing they need is for their affair to be exposed. It will only take one hint of a rumor to destroy everything they worked so hard to achieve.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on SEXY LOVE to read more and to email author Carly Phillips, you'll get a reply.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 06-19-2020

Dear Reader:

This is the last day to enter. There are two ways to win this week, guess the type of baby birds and/or email me a bird story. There are drawings for both, and you could win a colorful bird-themed kitchen towel, click here.

"Dear Suzanne, I love love love watching the birds in our yard. Even though our condo association doesn't allow feeders they come anyway! My husband and I always talk about how rarely we see baby birds, but a few days ago we were surprised and amused to see a fluffy baby robin trying to keep up with its mama and begging to be fed as they hopped around the yard. They were on view for about fifteen minutes and we enjoyed every minute of the action!" -- Linda F.

Amy B., wrote: "My favorite bird story happened 12 years ago. We had a bird's nest in an evergreen at the front of our house. I would lift my baby grandson to spy on the nest every time he came for a visit. He was barely talking at that point. When the babies finally arrived, I held him up and said 'Nate, look at the baby birdies.' He got so excited that he shouted 'Mommy, Daddy, baby birdies!.' It was his first sentence, and I was there. Miracles are everywhere you look."

"Hi Suzanne! This is my favorite recent bird encounter...a couple of months ago, my 11-year-old daughter and I were taking a sunset walk around our suburban subdivision when we saw something large fly right over our heads, and land on the roof of the house next to us. We looked up at the roof and saw a great horned owl. Over the years I've perfected my owl hooting skills, so my daughter begged me to 'talk' to him. I let out a big hoot and the startled owl gave us a look like, 'Oh no, I'm in another owl's territory!' and flew off to a different roof further down the street. We caught up to the owl again and this time watched him silently until he flew off into the sunset. My daughter and I still talk about that walk as our best walk ever! Thanks for the opportunity to talk birds! I hope your day is blessed!" -- Kim B.

"I was surprised when I opened your email today! Yesterday I was working in my garage and heard some baby birds chirping, I thought the sounds were coming from a bush right outside the garage, until a momma bird flew by me with a worm in her mouth. She had made her nest in the rafters four feet from where I was standing. My garage door will stay open during the day until the chicks fly away!" -- Lisa M.

"In the month of June, I was taking daily walks to the golf course. Traffic was light, both pedestrian and cars. One morning I paused to admire newborn ducklings taking a swim. On the edge of the lake stood mama duck proudly watching as well. Once she glanced at me, she decided I was a threat. Even though I was nowhere near the lake, she quickly waddled over in my direction! I quickly put two-and-two together and upped my walk to a slow run. Not good enough, she chased me out the front gate of the golf course!" -- Barbara P.

"Hi Suzanne!! At my dad's burial, several years ago, after the bugler finished playing taps, my family and friends emerged from the tent to a beautiful sunshiny day and two beautiful white doves flying above. I have seen cardinals countless times after a loved one's passing but these doves were so magnificent and I took it to represent my dad finally being reunited with my mom." -- Nancy G.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Warmest regards,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

For kids and teens for love the time travel of A Wrinkle in Time, the history of Little House on the Prairie, and the wizardry of Harry Potter all in one, THE LAST CRYSTAL by Frances Schoonmaker. For a chance to win free copies, to talk with the authors, and more, see KIDSBUZZ.

Dear Reader Column 06-18-2020

Dear Reader,

Two ways to win this week, guess the type of baby birds and/or email me a bird story. There are drawings for both, and you could win a colorful bird-themed kitchen towel. Click here.

Book club reader Sue C., wrote: "Our suet feeder was empty, but I was feeling lazy, and was also immersed in a good book, so I left it empty. Suddenly, one of the many bluebirds that come to our feeders started tapping on the window and was really quite persistent. I jokingly said to my husband, 'it probably wants me to bring out some suet.' Our bluebirds devour my homemade peanut butter suet. The tapping started in again the next day, so I bestirred myself to do my duty. A bit later the bluebird settled on the sill, gave one sharp tap ('Thanks Mom') and that was the last we heard from him. I am sure said bird was just tapping at its reflection, but I like my version better."

Brandi D., wrote:

"It was a sunny afternoon and my daughter was brushing our neighbor's Golden Retriever in our backyard. I was sitting on the patio, and we both noticed a blue jay nest up in our birch tree. We could hear babies chirping, and the mama was busily flying in and out with food. As the dog hair flew off in huge clumps, I suggested to my daughter to place a few clumps inside our row of Azalea bushes for the birds to use as nest material. (I grew up with horses and our barn swallows loved using horse hair in their nests, so I figured our birds would relish the silky dog hair.)

Fast-forward to the next day, and Tropical Storm Cristobal was moving into our area, Southern Louisiana. As the sky darkened and the misty rain started to pellet our windows, my daughter looked out and exclaimed, 'Look, Mom! It's the baby blue jay! He's snuggled up with the dog hair.' Sure enough, a baby blue jay was hunkered down inside of our Azaleas, snuggled right up next to that clump of dog hair. We watched in wonder as his mama came regularly to feed him. He remained there for two days, and when the sun appeared again, he flew away with his family."

"Hi Suzanne, it was 1998 and my husband, our 14-fourteen-year-old daughter, and I lived In an old Victorian home in Connecticut. We had a beautiful fireplace and a chimney that was not capped at the time. One spring evening we heard rustling in the fireplace, and realized there was a creature in there. We thought it sounded like a bird fluttering. The next day when my husband and daughter came home, all was quiet. Thinking the bird had found its way out, my husband opened the flue carefully to check, and three large grackles escaped inside our house.

Our golden retriever went crazy as the birds flew into the kitchen, leaving 'presents' along the way. I was not home at the time, but received the good news, via cell phone that they were able to get all three birds out the front door safely. The dishwasher was already running when I arrived home, cleaning the utensils that had deposits on them. To this day we keep this wooden memento by our fireplace to remind us of our bird tale. And...that summer we had the chimney rebuilt and capped!" -- Kathy P.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: With so many new books out every week, we promise these titles deserve your attention:

(Fiction) GILDED DREAMS by Donna Russo Morin

(Thriller) THE HOUSE OF LONG AGO by Steve Berry & M.J. Rose

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 06-17-2020

Dear Reader,

Two ways to win this week, guess the type of baby birds and/or email me a bird story. There are drawings for both, and you could win a colorful bird-themed kitchen towel. Click here.

"Hi Suzanne, here's my best bird story. It happened a long time ago, but I remember it so clearly. -- Jennie R.

Walking home from school one day, in 5th grade, I saw a rather large baby bird semi-covered with white fluffy down, at the foot of a very tall palm tree. It wasn't what I'd call cute, but I've always had a soft spot for any bird or animal in need of help. So I wrapped it up in my jacket and took it home. One of my parents, likely my dad, identified it as a baby barn owl. Off to the neighborhood market I went to purchase raw chicken livers and gizzards to feed the little thing. It devoured them like a champ!

Amazingly, the next day's walk home from school yielded another baby at the foot of the very same tree. It was a wonder neither suffered injuries in their long drop from their nest! Luckily, we had an old chicken coop at the bottom of our backyard my dad hadn't gotten around to tearing down, as we'd just recently moved to the house. The abandoned boxes were perfect for the owlets. They grew quickly and started developing feathers, along with very sharp talons. I had to wear an old pair of my dad's leather work gloves to have them perch on my forearm. I named them Barney and Windy...Barney was the larger of the two, so we assumed he was a male and Windy a female. Once they started to fly in the backyard, we left the door to the coop open at night, hoping they'd begin to learn the skills needed to hunt for food on their own. For the first week or so, they would fly off in the evening, but morning would find them tucked in their wooden boxes. The second week they came back sporadically, and by the third week they were gone--off to their new lives. After that, whenever I saw an owl fly overhead in the evenings I imagined it was one of them waving hello. I'm 62 now and still love to see owls in silent flight and they often feature in my dreams."

Gail G., writes: "I have a bluebird house in my backyard and have a constant stream of beautiful families in residence during their season. I have spent many happy hours watching their cycle of life. Both parents are totally involved in the whole process, and the patience displayed when coaxing the babies to fly from the nest is truly an inspiration! Watching this miracle unfold has definitely helped me get through the quarantine....as has your column! Keep doing what you do!"

"While often wishing the squirrels would not feast quite so frequently at our suet feeder, I didn't realize a bird would solve the problem. Lately, each time the squirrels arrive, a grackle appears and zooms around the squirrels, squawking and flapping her wings just inches from their heads. Turns out she has a nest in the arborvitae near the feeder and is one protective mama. I haven't seen a squirrel near the feeder in days." -- Eileen T.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

For kids and teens for love the time travel of A Wrinkle in Time, the history of Little House on the Prairie, and the wizardry of Harry Potter all in one, THE LAST CRYSTAL by Frances Schoonmaker. For a chance to win free copies, to talk with the authors, and more, click here for KIDSBUZZ.