Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column - August 6, 2024

Dear Reader,

Today's Guest Author, Allia Zobel Nolan has written, at last count, over 150 books. They range from the Divine (inspirational books and Bible-based books for children) to the feline, (over ten books about cats and their antics).

Allia is absolutely thrilled about her latest children's book, Harriet Hurry-Up and the Oh-So-Slow Day. The topic is about something she herself struggles with: learning to wait. Both kids and adults alike can read about how to deal with impatience and the surprise ending makes this a delightfully fun book.

Send Allia an email, say "Hello" and your name will be entered in a drawing for one of three copies of Harriet Hurry-Up and the Oh-So-Slow Day. Reach out to Allia via [email protected]

To see Allia's latest books go to: www.AlliaWrites.com.

My Achilles Heel Walks on Four Feet

I consider myself a forceful woman--not given to many crutches. No nightlight keeps vigil while I sleep. Spiders don't make me squeamish. I know where the oil goes in my car. Still, I do have this one Achilles heel. It's my cats. I love them too much.

I admit it: I'm cat codependent. It's an addiction I've struggled with all my life. But happily, these days, I'm not alone. Women (and men) everywhere have caught on to what I've known for years: There's no getting "enough" of cats.

Still, it wasn't always like this. In the days before cats ruled social media, people thought I was a joke, the infamous cat lady gone over the edge.

"Did you notice her upper lip?" one of my business associates cackled. "She looks like she's sprouting whiskers."

"Yeah, and her briefcase stinks of salmon," another answered. "It's horribly unprofessional."

"What about those earrings?" yet another associate chimed in. "She makes them from her cats' fur. Disgusting."

Yet, what did those naysayers know? Back then, the general populace thought a cat was, well, just a cat. It's only recently people have come to see them as the loyal, loving, entertaining creatures they are. It's only today the cat reclaims the honored place she had back when pharaohs wore snakes on their heads and people rode to work on chariots.

Even today, though, some people still snicker that I go overboard. They don't realize I'm in recovery. Why only last week, I bought scoopable on sale instead of the designer brand
litter I've imported in the past. I saved two bucks, but I felt like a cad.

Truth is I have had to cut back in other ways, too. And it almost broke my heart. It isn't easy explaining to fur children who're used to having the air-conditioning and PBS on all day that they have to sweat and look out the window. But I have put my foot down. I no longer open up tin after tin of cat food to find one they like. I've set a limit of nine. And I've canceled the cats' animal enrichment classes with Ulma.

But things take time. And I'm working on it. But for now, Nolan needs his temples massaged. He gets those awful sinus headaches when he stays out all night. Then, maybe I'll surprise the kitties with a real treat. I mean how hard can it be to give a cat a French manicure?

How about you? Do you spoil your kitties? I bet you do.

-- Allia Zobel Nolan

[email protected]

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - July 30, 2024

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Mary Fleming, is originally from Chicago, and moved to Paris in 1981, where she worked as a freelance journalist and consultant before turning full-time to writing fiction. Her previous novels are Someone Else and The Art of Regret. She chronicles her French life between Paris and the Perche (Normandy) in the photo-essay, A Paris-Perche Diary.

Mary's new novel is Civilisation Française: When recent college graduate Lily Owens enrolls in the Civilisation Française course at the Sorbonne in 1982, she hopes to put a difficult childhood behind her and to find direction for her future. She moves into a mansion on the place des Vosges where her job is to help the housekeeper, Germaine, care for the elderly, half-blind Amenia Quinon, another ex-pat American. The three women live alone in this old house of silence and secrets, mostly revolving in their own worlds. When Lily extends an invitation to a friend, all of their lives are upended.

Reach out to author Mary Fleming via Instagram: @flemingm6

SERENDIPITY

The first day of my freshman year, the college president welcomed our incoming class with a speech about serendipity, a word I did not know. I was so taken by the idea of 'the happiness of discovery' that I can still see myself leaning forward in that chapel pew, hanging on his every word.

Fully understanding the concept, though, is another matter, and it's possible the penny didn't fully drop until 30 years later in Paris. Late one evening, just after New Year, I went downstairs to walk Lily the Labrador. As I opened the door to the courtyard, out of the dark another dog came towards me with frightened, pleading eyes.

The building's gardienne didn't know where she came from, so I walked her, took her upstairs with Lily. From the tattoo in her ear (pet ID in France before the age of microchips), I had the name of the owner, but Madame C never answered my increasingly urgent messages.

My husband said: "There is no way we're keeping that dog." I could see his point. We already had one largish shedding creature and five children, quite enough to fill an urban household. But I couldn't hand her over to the pound. No one I approached wanted her.

In the meantime, the unnamed dog, who had the coat of a golden retriever and the body of Border collie, was not idle. She made a personal appeal to each member of the family. Paws on the lap, a lick of the face, an irresistibly penetrating, loving look, straight into the eye of the beholder, as if no one else in the world existed. She didn't even bark.

Despite the fact she was not housetrained, even my husband cracked. My daughter said: "Mum, it's fate."

Indeed. Elsa stayed.

She and Lily became great pals, and Elsa was as bereft as we were when Lily died. Though only obedient when she felt like it, her joie de vivre was irrepressible and highly contagious. Those eyes, that soft face, lit up the lives of everyone in her orbit. They spoke whole sentences. Right to the end we wondered if this enchanting creature of unknown origin was 100 per cent canine. In the countryside I was afraid she'd be taken for a fox and shot. At other times she seemed to possess traits of cats, deer, hares.

I don't know what I would have done without Elsa when we moved half-time to Berlin. She was the conduit through which I explored the city--was at the origin of the online Diary I began writing then and still write today. Her arrival in our courtyard that night turned out to be living proof of serendipity.

-- Mary Fleming

@flemingm6

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - July 23, 2024

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author Detective Kim Mager, a 30-year law enforcement officer, who retired from the Ashland City Police in 2022. Kim works for a prosecutor's office and still holds a law enforcement commission. She specializes in sex offenses, violent crime, and child abuse and has investigated over 2,000 cases. Kim has a BA from Ashland University and graduated Top Gun of her Police Academy. She is married to husband, Dan, and they have three children, Corbin, Macy, and Reed.

Kim's new true crime title (with Lisa Pulitzer) is, A Hunger to Kill: A Serial Killer, a Determined Detective, and the Quest for a Confession That Changed a Small Town Forever. In this fascinating and profoundly chilling account, Detective Kim Mager, a real-life version of Clarice Starling, reveals how she closed in on-and broke-one of Ohio's most infamous serial killers.

You could win one of three copies of A Hunger to Kill. Send an email with your preferred shipping address (in case you're a winner) to: [email protected]

Finding Solitude

 As a detective, I've spent 30 years interviewing victims of sex offenses and violent crimes. I've sat across from countless suspects and relentlessly pursued their confessions. There have been many times when I have felt like I was suffocating upon entering a scene or when hearing a victim recount their trauma. There never seemed to be a right time to process what I had seen and heard because It wasn't about me, it was about the job I had to do. It was impacting me incrementally and it wasn't apparent to me for most of my career. I spent all of my time looking ahead and focusing on what I needed to do next. I mistakenly believed that because my cases were successful, that was the measure of whether I was okay. I was so wrong.

I reside back along a lane that is so far off the road, you can't hear traffic. I'm surrounded by rolling hills, trees, and a moving creek. For the majority of my career, I took it all for granted. A while back, after a particularly difficult case, I found myself walking my property. I didn't have a plan--I just felt a strong need to go. I walked until I found a small, grassy area between a pine grove and a hardwood forest. I sat down on the ground next to a century-old fallen tree with outgrown roots. I looked around and was taken by the natural beauty surrounding me. I became quiet and still. I felt so small and alone, almost apprehensive. I was afraid to even think because I feared losing control. I looked all around, with an unusual awareness. I could see the sun breaking through the trees, in glowing rays. I could smell the earthy decay of the forest floor, and I noticed the distinct scent of the walnut trees. Birds were rhythmically calling to each other and two squirrels were effortlessly jumping tree-to-tree. I could hear the water rippling over the river rock in the shallow creek. I had lived in the midst of all of that, but on that day, it was different. 

I sat in silence, in a state of repressive coping. After a long pause, I slowly submitted and allowed myself to cautiously reflect. I stayed there for hours, giving thought to my cases, my family, my faith, and my purpose. I began to consciously focus on connecting with myself. I started to feel less alone. It felt surreal. I then realized I had been missing something. I didn't know I was looking for it, but I had found it--solitude. I found a space where I could connect exclusively with myself. A place where I could breathe. 

I now recognize the importance of encouraging others to find solitude. It doesn't have to be in the middle of a forest; it can be anywhere. It's simple, yet profound. Solitude is a state of being alone without feeling lonely. Solitude allows us to stay grounded and reconnect with ourselves. It lets us find calmness and inner focus. It's so critical to our well-being.

Although it took many years, I'm so thankful for the ability to reflect.

I'm drawn to that peaceful spot.

-- Kim Mager

You could win one of three copies of A Hunger to Kill Send an email with your preferred shipping address (in case you're a winner) to: [email protected]

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - April 9, 2024

Dear Reader,

Get out the hats and horns, bake a batch of cookies, patronize the Friends of the Library Bookstore, make a donation (time or money) to your local library, or send an email to the library thanking them for offering this online book club and for doing such a great job every day. Celebrate National Library Week!

To celebrate National Library Week, I have giveaways for librarians. If you work at (or retired from) a library please do enter-to-win this special gift: a There’s No Such Thing as Too Many Books tote bag. To enter, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/giveaway/

Today’s guest author, D. J. Green is a writer and geologist, a by-product of an upbringing in a house filled with books and her Earth Science teacher father talking endlessly about rocks. D. J. was lucky to grow up exploring the National Parks across the U.S. with her family. Her debut novel, No More Empty Spaces, weaves the love of the outdoors, and the science that shapes it, into the story of a geologist who takes his three children to a remote and rugged part of Turkey, where he's signed on to work on a troubled dam in 1973. While there, he wrestles for control--of his family, his work, and even the landscape.

D. J. is giving away five copies of No More Empty Spaces to book club readers. To enter, drop D. J. an email and be sure to include your mailing address in case you are a winner: [email protected]

Welcome to the book clubs, D. J. …

The Specifics of Wonder

Wonder seems non-specific to me, when I try to find words to describe how it feels, in my mind or my body, I struggle. That's a problem for a writer. But describing, specifically, what inspires wonder in me--that's easy. I am fortunate to spend time in nature nearly every day, and not a single one goes by when I don't see or hear or touch upon something that makes me sense wonder.

One January morning, it was Mountain bluebirds. A blustery day at the base of the Sandias (the mountains whose foothills I regularly hike), I ducked down into an arroyo seeking shelter from the winds howling higher on the ridge tops. The flock of Mountain bluebirds who winter here had the same idea. Lucky me!

Passing a juniper, I flushed the flock. They rose en masse, swirled overhead, their bright or light (depending on their gender) blue hues flashed in the sun. They hovered, wings beating as they danced on the brisk breeze. They chose another nearby tree and settled where I could watch them through my binoculars as many minutes ticked by--though for me, immersed in the joy of their presence, time seemed altered. I could simply be with them as they perched, or hopped from bough to bough, or fluttered in the air like a blue halo around the tree. Some quiet, so I could see the details of their slim beaks or the black wing feathers folded upon their backs in contrast to their brilliant blue. Some chittered, but their songs were hard to hear above the wind's insistent refrain. I don't know how long I lingered, I could've watched them, snug as they seemed in the shelter of the juniper, all day. But a Cooper's hawk had other plans. As it swooped in, the bluebirds were gone in a feathered flash. The flock flew well out of my sight to safety.

I stayed, observing the raptor, who bobbed on a high branch in the buffeting wind. When it rose and passed overhead, I could hear, and feel, its wingbeats. Yet more wonder.

It is true that I am a nerd about birds, but wouldn't anyone feel fascination among those winged beauties? Find wonder in their mastery of the air? If it isn't birds, I hope you discover something to wonder at today. Perhaps, Dear Reader, it will be in the pages of a book.

– D. J. Green

To enter the drawing for book club readers for one of five copies of No More Empty Spaces, email: [email protected] (and please include your mailing address in case you are a winner).

And if you work at (or retired from) a library please do enter-to-win this special gift: a There’s No Such Thing as Too Many Books tote bag. To enter, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/giveaway/

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - September 5, 2023

Dear Reader,

Today’s guest author, Linda Kass began her career decades ago as a magazine writer and correspondent for regional and national publications. She began writing fiction about twelve years ago with two historical novels, Tasa's Song, and A Ritchie Boy.

Her new book, Bessie, is a fictional profile of the early life of the remarkable Bess Myerson, the musically talented daughter of poor Russian Jewish immigrants who was named Miss America despite the bigoted milieu of 1945. The story opens a window into mid-century American life, and it also allowed her to explore themes of prejudice, beauty, and self-worth during a precarious moment in our cultural history.

You can reach out to Linda, [email protected]

Welcome to the book clubs, Linda and your bookstore dog, Wally…

The poet, Mary Oliver, in her book Dog Songs asks, "What would this world be like without dogs?" Her book celebrates the special bond between human and dog as understood through her own relationship to the canines who accompanied her daily walks, warmed her home, and  inspired her work. Throughout the book, the many dogs of Oliver's life merge as fellow travelers and as guides, uniquely able to open our eyes to the lessons of the moment and the joys of nature and connection.

I own an independent bookstore. (I am also a writer and, like Oliver, I am a dog lover). By the time we opened the doors of Gramercy Books in December of 2016, I had a young Labradoodle named Wally with whom I had a special bond and who followed me everywhere, including into the bookstore. Our customers adored him and soon began asking for Wally when they came to visit. Without really trying, Wally had become the bookstore dog. To make it official, I took Wally to a training facility affiliated with the American Kennel Club. After putting him through all sorts of maneuvers, AKC gave Wally a Canine Certificate of Good Citizenship that I promptly framed and mounted on a bookstore wall.

In March of 2018, Wally chose his first recommended book pick for a social media post our digital gurus called #WallyReads. We let him nose around, literally, and he went for Tara Westover's memoir Educated. An unusual selection, I wondered if he got focused on the big pencil image on the book cover. (Or maybe he just followed our customers around, which is what he does, and a lot of them were picking up that book.) Lots of recommendations followed, always with Wally posing next to a book; choices like Our Dogs, Ourselves by Alexandra Horowitz, What I Lick Before Your Face by Jamie Coleman, and Writers and Their Pets by Kathleen Krull drew the most likes on Facebook posts.

The next year, we photographed Wally next to the perfect book to celebrate Valentine's Day: How to Say I Love You in (almost) Every Language by Celeste Shelly. This book also has beautiful artwork and teaches all of us how to share our affection in many different languages! Other appropriate choices included Throw the Damn Ball: Classic Poetry by Dogs (who wouldn't like a hilarious collection of poetry authored by dogs named Sparky, Snowy, Tucker, and Louie?) and Lessons from Lucy, a book from Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist Dave Barry about his beloved senior dog, Lucy. Dogs teach us so much about life, and Lucy taught Dave how to live in the present, how to let go of daily grievances, and how to feel good in your own skin.

Wally is an ever present and joyful friend to me. I am never alone during what can be very solitary time when writing my novels because Wally always sits right under my desk, waiting for me to take a break so we can go outside for a walk!

-- Linda Kass

Email: [email protected]

For Reader's Guides and more, visit: https://www.lindakass.com/book-clubs

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

* I hope you enjoyed reading today's guest column. If you're one of the winners, or your entry is an Honorable Mention in this year's Write a DearReader contest, it will be featured as a guest column. Cash prizes, rules and deadlines, along with last year's winning entries, read all about them at: http://www.dearreader.com/contest2023/index.html

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

Dear Reader Column - May 10, 2023

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author is Beth Ann Mathews, whose debut book, Deep Waters: A Memoir of Loss, Alaska Adventure, and Love Rekindled has just been released. 

Beth Ann grew up with six siblings in the Midwest, studied Animal Science at Purdue University, worked at the Tulsa Zoo, and earned a master's degree in marine biology at the University of California, Santa Cruz.

Mathews was a professor at the University of Alaska Southeast for twenty years where she taught courses in biology and studied seals, sea lions, porpoises--and briefly--sleeper sharks. Her research has been published in Marine Mammal Science and other journals. When her son was young, Beth and her husband sailed their boat with him from Alaska to Mexico. Beth and her husband live on an island in Puget Sound, WA and they continue to enjoy sailing and exploring on their boat, which has been part of their family for 32 years.

Please say “Hello” to Beth Ann. You can reach out to her via email: [email protected]

Welcome to the book club, Beth Ann…

An improvised solution saves the day early in marine biologist's career.

I maneuvered the research boat at low RPMs out of Mahukona's turquoise shallows, keenly aware that smacking the outboard's prop into a coral-studded rock would be disastrous. It was 1989, and my five passengers were college students enrolled in a course on humpback whales I was in charge of in Hawaii. Disabling the engine wouldn't put us in serious danger--we could paddle it to shore and everyone was zipped into life jackets.

What I couldn't afford was a mishap that would knock my student's morale down another notch.

The 17-foot inflatable, vital to the ten-week program, had arrived late. We'd gotten ahead on lectures, but hands-on field research was the reason they'd enrolled. Our boat and motor had been detained because a former employee of the field school had refused to ship them to us until the school's director paid him the salary he claimed he was owed.

Finally out on the ocean, I was desperate to find whales. 

An hour into our survey, Savannah shouted, "Blow!"

Thwap, thwap, thwap! Students held tight to pontoon straps as we sped over choppy seas toward the distant whale.

Engine in neutral, we stood and scanned, knees against the hull.

"Whoosh-ahh!"

"Photo-ID team, check your settings." Before the whale dove, cameras clicked and pencils scrawled.

"What is that smell?" Kristen made a face. 

"That's friggin' whale breath," someone said.

After three surfacings, I had a suspicion. "Let's drop the hydrophone. This whale might be a singer." During the winter breeding season, adult males sing an elaborate song, characterized by regular dive intervals.

Savannah dug through the equipment tote and gave me a strained look. "It's not in here." 

Oh no, I thought, rubbing my eyes. In the excitement, I'd forgotten the underwater microphone.

How could I do that? I cut the engine. "Everybody, quiet." 

I pulled off my sweatshirt. "Savannah, can you hold my feet?"

"Uh...sure."

Belly down, I laid over the pontoon, took deep breaths, slid forward, and plunged my head into the ocean. Yes! Unmistakable–loud whoops and a series of up-sweeps. I wriggled backward and ran a hand through dripping hair. "He's singing! Check it out."

As I toweled off, I smiled, surrounded by young adults with heads submerged, derrieres up.

On the trip back, students laughed and talked. Although I chastised myself for not having the hydrophone on our checklist, the improvised solution had an unanticipated benefit. Hearing a humpback whale sing, through their submerged ears, was an experience they wouldn't forget.

A humpback whale’s fluke can be as wide as 18 feet. Photographs of the pigment patterns and scarring, along with the serrated trailing edge, are used to identify individual whales, like a fingerprint, throughout their long lives. (Photo taken in Alaska by the author.) (Above photo of author taken by Star Dewar)

 

--Beth Ann Mathews

Email: [email protected]

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected] 

• This month's Penguin Classics is To the Lighthouse, by Virginia Woolf. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win

Dear Reader Column - June 15, 2022

Dear Reader,

Someone always wins when I offer a giveaway (be sure to enter the next one). Barbara E., won the crab hats recycled from our last family birthday party. They were a hit!

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! 

I just received the Crab Party hats (and bunny ears) earlier this week. You would not believe how timely it was. My niece will be leaving next week for Kodiak, Alaska. She will be a summer volunteer at a youth mission up there. I spent 5 years up there year-round, and my sister (her mom) worked there for 5 summers, so it’s a family thing. The big thing in Kodiak besides fishing (all five species of salmon are around the island) and bear watching (Kodiak bears are the largest brown bears in the world) is the town festival every Memorial Day Weekend. The town festival is.you guessed it Crab Fest!  

My niece, Allie, sent me pictures of the crab hats. Allie's the one, wearing the 'Alaska' sweatshirt. The others are some of her housemates. Apparently the hats are a big hit! Thanks again for the giveaway!!" -- Barbara E.

Book club reader Marlys W., has "caught" my bubble fever...

"Hi Suzanne, I enclosed a photo that was taken today at my job. My birthday was Saturday. They had a bubble machine. I hope you can see the bubbles."

To see photos, go to: http://www.emailbookclub.com/photo/Crab-Hat.html

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column - June 9, 2022

Dear Reader,

Some people are afraid of blank pages, a big room to fill, or new opportunities. Anxiety sets in.

What if I can't? What if I try and it doesn't work out?

But blank pages, new opportunities, or wide open spaces, they only need to be filled one word, one idea, or one flower at a time. 'No need to hurry. Take your time, Suzanne.' That's what I tell myself every time I'm trying to get up the courage to work in my flower gardens.

Courage may sound like a strange word to use when I'm talking about pulling weeds or planting flowers, but there are seven huge flower gardens surrounding my home and I do all of my own gardening. It's not totally by choice. I've tried to find some neighborhood kids who are interested in earning money, but apparently their piggy banks are full, because nobody wants to work. I really don't mind pulling weeds and I love planting flowers, but getting started is always a real struggle for me. It's a huge amount of space that needs tending to and it can be intimidating. Seven huge flower gardens up against one single person--where do I begin?

Intimidation usually wins the first couple of rounds; I wrestle with the "getting started" part in my mind for a couple of weeks and then finally one day, when I'm walking by the flower gardens, I stoop down and pull a weed. Okay, that wasn't so hard. In fact it felt pretty good, and an hour later, there's a huge pile of weeds beside me.

A few months ago, I pulled out a long line of plants alongside my house. They were looking ragged and just had to go. I'd been avoiding the task, because every time I thought about what I'd replace them with, I couldn't come up with any ideas. It's such a big space, where would I begin? I had no idea how I was going to fill the area. But after I yanked those old plants out and surveyed the wide open space that was in front of me, then I could see all kinds of new possibilities.

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column - May 18, 2022

Dear Reader,

 

Congratulations to the winners of the May Chocolate Chip Cookie Giveaway: Maryann C., Jefferson Parish Public Library, Bonnie M. Indian River County Main Library, Sally S., Contra Costa County Library.

 

And the winner of the Angled Measuring Cup Giveaway is Jennifer G. Thanks to everyone who sent in recipes. I’m going to have fun trying them out this summer.

 

Last week I shared a photo of baby birds in their nest and asked you to name the bird and share some of your bird stories with me. The baby birds were blue birds.

 

Emails from readers:

 

“I work at the beach at Spring Lake, New Jersey. It's $10.00 for a badge. Children are free. We have a strict no food policy on the beach. Our beach remains in pristine condition. A woman came with a dozen children. I told her no food on the beach. She told me ‘I spent $10.00 on a badge, I'm bringing my food down.’ After working at the beach for numerous years I have learned to not argue with people. She took her food down and the kids opened a bag of chips. A huge Sea Gull swooped down and grabbed the entire bag and flew away. The kids chased the Sea Gull but obviously couldn't catch it. Karma.” – All the best, Mary Ann C.

 

“Suzanne, One morning, a number of years ago, I looked out the window and found a tiny bird sitting on our front porch. Immediately I thought something was wrong with it but left it alone. All morning long I would check on the bird who had not moved. As the morning progressed it had left little deposits on the porch, but not moved. By lunchtime I began to really be concerned about it not being fed or watered. But not long after, it was gone. Mom must have come by to check and her baby followed her and was released from solitary. Nature knows its own and we concerned humans need to trust them.” – Barbara N.

 

“Suzanne, I think that there’s nothing like nature to lift our spirits. On one of the hot days I found two baby deer sheltering in the shade of our trees. They looked so content! And yesterday we spotted a bunny who hopped right up to one of our stone bunnies and sniffed it. So cute! Hope that you continue to enjoy the great outdoors!” –Linda F.

 

“We have a Holly tree up against our dining room window and because of it being so dense, birds usually make a nest every spring in its branches. We have a front row seat and no binoculars needed.

 

One spring we noticed that a nest was being made and when we checked the nest the next day, the mama bird had found colorful balloon ribbons (we assumed they were from helium balloons)  and wove them into the nest. What a colorful nest that was!  Bright blue, green and pink ribbons decorated her ‘baby's room’ that year!” – Julia T.

 

“Hi Suzanne, we had a bird build a nest in one of our window boxes. It was great, because we could sit inside at the window and see the babies up close. I did take some great photos, but they are the old-fashioned kind so I can't send any to you! Thanks for your daily words of wisdom and insight!” – Diane R.

 

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

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

* This month's Penguin Classics book is People from Bloomington by Budi Darma. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

Dear Reader Column - May 12, 2022

Dear Reader,  

Can you solve the puzzle? Be sure to look at the photos I’ve posted today. 

A friend of mine sent me pictures of what she discovered in her backyard. Guess what kind of baby birds are pictured and you’ll be entered in one of this week’s giveaways, click here to see the photos and enter. 

If you have a personal bird story encounter, please share it with me. There are two, fun Blue Bird Pop-up Cards to be delivered to (two) lucky book club readers. 

There’s magic happening right now in my backyard. I’ve been fortunate to have numerous birds visit me this year. It’s amazing to watch them build their nests, their houses are small, yet there’s plenty of room. After a little courting, soon I’m hearing soft “I’m hungry chirps” that always make me smile. I’ve been watching Mama close up, with my binoculars as she tends to her young and I was even fortunate to see a small baby bird taking flight for the first time. What a miracle.

Yes indeed, I’m one lucky woman--there’s life and love and magic, right in my own backyard.

Have fun solving this week’s puzzle, click here.

Share a bird story with me. Email: [email protected]

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

Chirp, chirp,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

* This month's Penguin Classics book is People from Bloomington by Budi Darma. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

 

 

 

* This month's Penguin Classics book is People from Bloomington by Budi Darma. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.

 

 

* This month's Penguin Classics book is People from Bloomington by Budi Darma. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.