Fall From Grace – Chapter 13

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It’s been a while since I posted about my latest WIP – Fall From Grace. For all of you wondering about what is going on, here is a rough copy of Chapter 13!

I would also like to remind you that the Salem witch trials were a dark and ugly period in the United States’ past. In this story I am striving for historical accuracy. My goal is to shed light on these actions and to tell a tale that leaves you thinking and wanting more.

As always, Happy Reading and feel free to leave a review!

 

The dying embers of the communal fire were all that could be seen in the despairing pit of the jail. The heat the fire gave off disappeared shortly after sunset leaving the multitude of prisoners lost in their own shadows and trapped in the torments that their minds played on the stone walls. Grace and Tituba sat next to each other in their tiny, rock-hewn cell; the rope that bound them together lay lax between them. They shared what little heat their bodies provided. An old woman with steel grey hair lay just outside their cell.

Tituba’s head rested on the wall as she asked, “Miss Grace, why aren’t you bitter for being held with no cause?”

Grace let out a breath and quietly answered, “Bitterness has only been known to accomplish despair; faith in God, on the other hand, is known to work miracles.”

“You can’t see God, Miss Grace. In times such as these, seeing is something we can grasp in our darkest hours.”

Grace hummed lightly and answered, “God is all around us. He created the sun to warm us and plants to nourish us. If the bounty in the earth can come back after a bitter winter, surely we can follow God’s plan without seeing him,” Grace finished serenely.

“To right you are Grace Bacon. Remember though, the bible also directs, ‘When ye thought evil against me, God disposed it to good, that he might bring to pass, as it is this day, and save much people alive,” the old woman on the other side of the cell softly croaked.

“Mrs. Nurse! You shouldn’t be awake. The least you could do is try to rest in these deplorable dungeons,” Grace quietly exclaimed.

Mrs. Nurse scoffed before replying, “Tosh Child! These hard stones do nothing for my creaky, old bones that hurt with the cold and rain. ‘Sides you’ll need to speak louder than a prayer for my failing ears to hear you. What need of sleep have I, when they’ll be deciding my fate in the dawn,” she boldly stated in her frail voice.

Grace shook her head and answered, “Mrs. Nurse they could do nothing but find you innocent of all charges. The entire town knows of your piety; your regular attendance at church shows that – as does your kindness for those in need.

“Besides, your children and grandchildren follow yours and Mr. Nurse’s generous lead in the world,” Grace insisted.

Mrs. Nurse scoffed as she began, “Good Lord child! You are naive! The curse of man is that he always has a choice. Remember, God does not force our hand; man does.”
A lightening bolt flashed outside emphasizing Mrs. Nurses’s dire words. Grace sighed loudly at the omen of the weather to come. Before she could say anything a roll of thunder shook the Dungeon and Jail.

“It seems that nature thinks we need another bath,” Grace tartly stated.
Mrs. Nurse chuckled at that before muttering, “I’d rather meet my fate clean and smelling of rain than streaked with mud from these suburbs of hell.”
Tituba and Grace chuckled at the truth in that. “The court would definitely prefer the smell of clean skin and spring blooms to the stench of human waste,” Grace assured grimly.

“I think we’d all prefer it,” another woman replied from within the cell.

“A gentle rain would be nice; it’s been awful dry this spring. They’ve not even brought us winter wine to drink,” another woman hollered from across the room.
Several of the prisoners nodded at the injustice of being denied a strong drink.

“You think we can get them to bring us some from The Ship,” the same woman halfheartedly mused.

“Doubtful, Mrs. Bishop, but it couldn’t hurt to try – especially as what they serve is the best made on Gods sprawling hills,” a man dryly answered.

“The Reverend didn’t like the fact that travelers stayed up later than curfew, gambling and a drinking; so it’s Witches Brew they accuse me of making.

“Never mind that Judge Sewell uses my winter wine for his fancy syllabub. A noble drink for a high-classed man.

With my luck they’ll post the jury summons for the trial on the doors of my own tavern,” Mrs. Bishop finished snidely.

Before the imprisoned crowd could become unruly Grace began, “Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down. If the sheriff should come in here and find us in a such an angered state, I feel God wouldn’t be able to make our stay in this Dungeon and Jail more bearable.”

“The devil himself couldn’t make our stay more vile,” a random man called out.

“You would be surprised by who and what can be forgotten. A meal or two can easily be missed as the sheriff will easily be distracted by other duties,” Grace insisted.

“They’d not miss a chance to charge us for our stay,” another woman countered, this was punctuated by another flash of lightening.

“Yet such an act has been done,” Grace tried to reason over the growing dissent as thunder rolled once more.

As the prisoners grew more restless a clinking of metal on metal rattled causing Grace and Tituba to flinch.

“Enough! Bacon if it be your wish to start a ruckus, mayhaps you should plead guilty to the courts and see us all rid of your abhorrent presence,” a rumbling male voice shouted from the front of the cell moments after Grace’s warning.

Lightening flashed outside the Dungeon and Jail, illuminating Grace’s pale, haggard features. Her stringy hair lay matted to her face while eyes flashed in anger. For the first time in months her scalp didn’t itch. Her temper on the other hand would not be stayed, “May God lay me low if any word I speak is untrue. My hand has signed no contract with the devil, your actions on the other hand suggest you have.

“Were your mother to see the way in which you treat these fair people she would bear more shame than there are leaves in the trees,” Grace finished vehemently.
The sheriff stormed over to the tiny cell, pushing the other prisoners out of the way. Thunder rocked the Dungeon and Jail with every step he took. The anger distorted his face and the dim cell light so that he resembled the creature the accused were said to follow.

The sheriff stopped at the edge of the cell and reached one hand in, tightly gripping Graces’ jaw, “ My sainted mother sits in the golden pews with God. She would have no pity for the likes of a witch serving a sinful master!”

Gasping for breath, Grace gurgled, “Than I hope God takes pity on your soul; for there is no way that your mother would.”

As the sheriff’s hand squeezed her throat tighter, Grace began to wheeze. Her vision started to gray while her arms and legs became tingly and numb. She struggled to pull the sheriffs hands away from the base of her throat. Her nails were so weak they wouldn’t leave a scratch against the sheriff’s tough, leathery skin. As bleak unconsciousness was about to claim her, Grace heard, “Let her go!”

With a whoosh of air Grace looked up to see Tituba clinging to the arm of the sheriff. On the other side of the cell the prisoners were pulling the sheriff away, forcing distance between him and the confined prisoners.

A human shield formed between the sheriff and the bars to Grace’s cell. These tired and tattered people found a cause to unite them – protecting one of their own from undue harm.

While the sheriff limped from the communal cell, Grace lay confined in her tiny cell with her head in Tituba’s lap. The filthy rags on her chest heaved as though she were drinking in the air around her. As sweat beaded her forehead and she tried to catch her breath, Grace heard, “Don’t let them forget us, Miss Grace.”

A New Venture

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Earlier in the year I picked up a new hobby. Beading. What a wonderful world it is too. The versatility involved reminds me of the books I write.

Upon seeing what I was turning out in my workshop (yes I have one of those!!), my husband encouraged me to start selling the jewelry I make. Thus Isle Breeze Creations was born.

The name was chosen because it implies relaxation and having fun. Something all hobbies should do.

I make earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. Single strands, multi-strands, pendants, and historically reminiscent pieces. When showing my pieces to a neighbor she said, “This is fancy costume jewelry! You have something here.”

An example of my work includes the following image. I hope you get as much pleasure from these pieces as you do my writing.

If you are interested in seeing the pieces as they are coming out, feel free to follow Isle Breeze Creations on Facebook.

For those of you that are wondering, this new venture doesn’t take away from my writing. My Latest novel, Fall From Grace, is due out this Halloween.

Happy Creating and Reading!

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Paper Love

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What is a piece of paper?

Paper. Parchment. Carta. Papyrus. These are among the many different ways to say paper, an invention that has arguably (depending on who you ask) made the world a better place. Thanks to the ancient Egyptians weaving strips of the papyrus reed together, even the lowliest amongst us can record their words for posterity.

It is true that without paper much of history would be lost – after all, knowledge became extinct when Alexandria first burned. It has taken us years to rediscover what was lost on those precious scrolls. But, what does it truly mean to those of us that live day to day in a modern and ever more complicated world?

As an author it is my means of creation and communication. Painters use it to paint and readers to read. Some people roll it up and smoke it while others use it to wrap dishes on moving day. It makes great paper-mache for pinatas. Kids use it to make paper airplanes. The Japanese even use it to make delicate works of art called origami. All in all paper is a wonderfully useful tool invented by the ancient Egyptians.

As someone living in this world it also means so much more and less. Why do I need a piece of paper to tell me I am married to the man I love, my best friend? He and I both feel that it isn’t necessary to prove our love by obtaining a piece of paper made by man – a near decade together should be enough to prove that. Common law marriages have been around since time immemorial and were often used when a priest couldn’t be found. Yet others around us seem to think that we are temporary or nothing without it.

I know of couples that couldn’t stay together with a piece of paper and vows. I also know of couples that never should have gotten married in the first place. For one reason or another they went after a piece of paper that they didn’t respect and all the legalities in the world couldn’t keep them together.

While true that couples do grow apart, if a couple decides they don’t want to be together, that piece of paper will not keep them together. Just like a child can’t keep a couple together, neither can a sheet of paper.

What keeps people together is people and their love are respect for each other, not paper. People and what they want and believe are what counts. Just because you believe in something, doesn’t mean everyone else does though.

Reading this, you might think that I am against legal marriage. I’m not. I’m all for it when the time and person is right for those involved. My situation is perfect for me, don’t tell me it is wrong just because you don’t believe in it. If a common law marriage was good enough for Benjamin Franklin (yes the founding father – don’t believe me, Google it), then it is more than good enough for me.

If we want to take a historical look at marriage, lets use the Puritans as an example. They believed that a marriage was a contract between two people to care for and help one another that was separate from religion. I, personally, don’t need a sheet of paper to do that. I know where my heart lies and a piece of paper won’t change that. It can’t.

Traditionally marriages were used to make alliances between families or countries. More than one war was averted by an arranged marriage. People even married to keep crowns out of other peoples hands. They married to make sure children were taken care of and to lessen a burden at home. They married to share chores on a homestead. Very rarely were they about love. Something I am glad about for the modern age – I love that my marriage (be it on paper or not) is about love. Because love is what matters and nothing else.

I realize that for many people, religion states that marriage in a church, synagogue, mosque, or temple is the only way to signify that you are married before God – I won’t even get into the fact that in the time of Jesus a marriage was consummated in a church (ewwww). While I do not personally believe this to be true, I do respect your point of view. Note that I did not say that I don’t believe in God, I wholeheartedly do – those are another set of beliefs that I keep to myself.

What keeps my husband and I (as well as many other common law couples) together is choice. We choose to be a couple. We choose to communicate. Above all, we choose to love. A piece of paper cannot guarantee any of those choices being made. As human beings we can.

It is our choices that define whether paper is even necessary to a given situation. So why do so many people define a situation by something that isn’t necessarily relevant to those involved?

That is an answer that I don’t have. I wish I did.

What is SEPSIS

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Sepsis

What is sepsis?

Sepsis is your body’s overreaction to an infection.

What types of infection can become septic?

Any. By any, I mean viral or bacterial infection on the planet. The flu? Yep. A hangnail? Sure. Pneumonia, major surgery, even food poisoning can go septic.

There are three stages to sepsis.
1. Sepsis
2. Severe Sepsis
3. Septic Shock

It is my opinion the Stage One, sepsis, is the most dangerous. You might wonder why. It is because sepsis masquerades as the flu. Yes, the flu. Fever, aches, chills, nausea, and vomiting. Temperatures on the fever can reach over 108 degrees.

The flu is the one thing that doctors tell us to stay at home and wait it out. In the case of sepsis that is a deadly mistake. Almost sixty percent of people who make it to Stage two die. By Stage three that number doubles to ninety percent.

By Stave two you get to loss of motor control, difficulty breathing, and confusion. Loss of muscular skeletal systems also occurs. By now a patient risks brain damage from the infection and the fever.

Once a person hits septic shock they are intubated and put into a medical coma. Once a person enters the coma very rarely do they come out of it. When and if they do they could have memory loss, PTSD, limb loss, and above all post sepsis syndrome.

That last term is likely to be a new term to all of you. So allow me to explain the joys of post sepsis syndrome. Feel free to read as much sarcasm in that last statement as you wish.

Post sepsis syndrome is something that every survivor has to live with for the rest of their live (most live to be octogenarians). Some of the signs of post sepsis syndrome include lethargy, weakened immune system, and an exacerbation of any preexisting conditions that you might have had. Those are only some of the know long-term effects.

By lethargy I mean that they will most likely have to rotate the days they do work on; such as work two days, sleep two days. By the end of the day they are mumbling and possibly incoherent. There will be days they cannot get out of bed or off the couch. This is not their fault but that of the disease that struck them low in the first place.

A weakened immune system means they will likely catch any bug that is going around. Expect the need for antibiotics on a regular basis. Vitamins and probiotics may be needed by some. Especially B12.

Anxiety and panic are never far away. It sometimes seems that they can’t go a day without it. The feeling of uselessness because they can’t do what they once could is devastating to them. With the help of a good doctor and support from family and friends these things can be overcome. I promise.

Prior conditions is the worst one. If they had bronchitis before hand it is likely to turn into full blown asthma. If there was a kidney problem before hand, expect to need dialysis afterward. Blood pressure problems are known to get worse and so is arthritis.

Between twenty eight and fifty percent of people die each year from sepsis in the United States alone. This is more than the total of prostate cancer, breast cancer and AIDS combined. This is the primary reason we need to question something even as simple as the flu. Sepsis is survivable – the earlier it is detected the better your chances of survival. Thankfully the CDC has declared Sepsis its own disease and not a condition of a prior infection. This gives me hope that awareness of it will spread.

If the long-term frightens you the short-term will hurt you. Hair and appetite loss occur. The person also changes from the one you have known. Some of them get more wary of their surroundings and all are terrified of getting ill again. Many find a new purpose in life while others may lose their way.

A New Normal

After all this doom an gloom, I’ll move on to something a little brighter. That topic is, A New Normal. By that, many of you may be wondering what I mean. Unfortunately, there is no mystery to that fact. The words are self explanatory. Survivors of sepsis literally have to find what is now acceptable to them and their bodies. What they can tolerate now will be different than what they could before.

They may not be able to work as hard or as long as they once could before needing a break. They might not even be able to do the same job as before – more than one person has had to change careers. Many survivors end up on disability due to the amount of damage done to their bodies. Energy seems to be a recycled concept now. They have good days where they were almost what they once were (those are what I like to refer to as a shining moment in the sun); then they have the bad days.

Those are the days they can’t get out of bed and staying awake seems impossible.

Any medical problems they had before sepsis magnifies after. For instance, bronchitis can turn into full blown asthma.

Fibromyalgia is known to develop. Arthritis flares dramatically. Because of the high fevers hair loss occurs. That one at least grows back. Exhaustion becomes a familiar friend and memory loss is a regular occurrence. Some have an increase in appetite and others a decrease. Anxiety tends to go through the roof. You worry about ever getting that ill again. You don’t want to go through it again.

Something Personal

Life isn’t all doom and gloom though. The survivor finds a new appreciation for what was almost taken from them. They challenge themselves more and often find new purpose.

I know I have. I ended up with septic shock due to salmonella – that’ll teach me from eating out at a certain restaurant. How I survived, I don’t know. But I am grateful for it. At almost two years out I am still recovering and trying to find my New Normal.

I barely remember the beginning of my illness. I don’t remember my husband having to put me into the shower – clothes and all – to break my fever. I don’t remember not being able to hold any food down for a week. I don’t remember doing the can-can while trying to walk. I don’t remember arguing about not going to the hospital.

In that time I have gained so many memories. I’ve regrown my hair (which grew back curly instead of stick straight, the color also slightly changed) and learned to watch for the signs of exhaustion – weak knees and difficulty getting out of bed. I’ve gained an inhaler and have learned to watch my footing.

My favorite memory is the look on my husband’s face as I stood for the first time in two weeks. The combination of shock, awe, pride, and love on his face is one I will take with me to the grave. I remember that day well.

He walked into my hospital room and I was sitting in a chair with the table in front of me doing a crossword puzzle. A nurse was changing my bedding. When he walked in I pushed the table away and used the arms of the chair to push myself up. When I felt his arms around me for the first time in weeks I almost cried. I think he did too.

I’ve gained new skills during my recovery as well. I can help build a house and use the tools necessary. I can now make hand made jewelry, and in my personal opinion my writing has reached a new level. I’ve even learned to cook in a better way than I could before. That is something I am profoundly happy with.

I’ve learned my share of lessons as well. One is to be patient with myself. When I compare how I am now to how I was I am amazed at my own progress. It hasn’t been an easy road to travel, but I have overcome it. I somehow managed to turn insurmountable boulders into pebbles when I taught myself how to walk again. I’ve learned to accept that parts of my body will never recover. Thank you lungs and bladder – a ventilator and catheter for that length of time will do that to you I suppose (or so my doctor says).

I’ve also learned that coconut oil is great for your hair (I use a spray on) and that dissolvable B12 doesn’t leave an aftertaste in your mouth like the pill form does if you don’t swallow it fast enough. I’ve learned peace is hard to come by, but it does eventually find you. Patience is a friend that you become familiar with.

Of all these lessons though, the important one for me is to cherish what I have now. Because I almost wasn’t here to enjoy it.

Puritans

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I am in the midst of writing a historical fiction novel in which I am striving for accuracy. Luckily for me I love history and research

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At any rate, my current work in progress (WIP) is titled Fall From Grace. It is a story of an accused witch’s survival during the Salem Witch Hangings.

 
The more I learn about the Puritan’s and their daily life, the more I realize how much the history books in school left out.

 
Normally when we think of the Puritan’s we think of all black clothes, highly religious, and down to earth. Not to mention reserved and dour. In my research (thank you Google), they were so much more than that. The Puritans took their religious beliefs from the Geneva bible which was written in 1658.

 
Let’s start with clothing and jewelry. Yes, jewelry was seen as adornments that weren’t to be worn for fear of you forgetting your place before God. Their clothing on the other matter was a whole different matter. Very rarely was black worn. As colorful as their clothing was it was simple in design so as not to forget one’s station in life. The Puritan’s wore every color they could derive from natural dyes. It being that cloth was expensive they would mend their clothes until the couldn’t any longer.

 
Those natural dyes were boiled down wood, berries, grasses, and vegetables. Woad was used for blue dye and madder root for red bases. Weld was used to produced the color yellow.

 
The colors in their wardrobe had meaning. Servants wore all blue which denoted servitude and heavenly grace. Black and brown stood for humility. Orange and red represented courage while yellow and green meant renewal.

 
Among the many laws that the Puritans had were sumptuary laws. These laws forbade poorer people to dress like ladies and gentlemen of means.

 
The reason that they puritans didn’t have grand celebratory feasts was that they believed that everyday was reason for a feast. History may have recorded the Puritans as a somber group, but their food was anything but. They tended to eat three meals a day.

 
They were a highly religious group of people who felt that one shouldn’t dress above their station in life less it lead to corruption of the immortal soul. Attendance at Church was mandatory twice a week. Anything less and you risked being excommunicated or worse – accusations of witchcraft were known to happen to those who abstained from attendance. For the Puritans their soul was the most important part of their lives. They believed that there were two groups of people, the Chosen and the Unchosen. It was the job of the Chosen to lead the others to God’s Grace.

 
Amongst the many reasons that the Puritans left England was that they didn’t agree with the Anglican/Catholic stances in the church. The Puritans felt that the earthly church was to decadent and heavy handed, they also despised Rome as it was the embodiment of the ecclesiastical church and therefore far too rich and bold for their tastes.

 
The church in England felt that the Puritans were to harsh in their thoughts and manners. The Church even had insults for the Puritans. One of these insults was the term “round-head”. They were called this due to the fact that the Puritan males shaved their heads bald. They shaved as a way to keep head lice under control.

 
Upon arrival in the “new world” the Puritans wished to found a “shining city on the hill” – a city that would be admired by all. While the Puritans wished to outlaw drinking it was realized that they couldn’t. This was due to the fact that the tavern was essential to their survival in this new land. In fact the first building to be raised in any new city was the tavern. On colder days when the church wouldn’t warm up enough the tavern often substituted as a place of worship.

 
On a side note all legal business was handled in the tavern until the capitol building of a city was built. After the capitol building went into use it was acceptable to put a jury summons on the door of the tavern for jury duty. It was thought that since everyone went to the tavern they would see the summons and appear.

 
Another side note is that Puritans tended to accept their fate if they went to jail and most often would not try to escape.

 
Though drinking was legal, drinking in excess was illegal and frowned upon. Alcohol and the tavern were considered a necessary evil. Then as now, the more money you had the more you can get away with.

 
Many researchers feel that the Witch Trials were used as a form of retribution on those who had too much money or were too far removed from the daily life of the church – the tavern owners. This is, in part, born out by the fact that one of the first accused witches was Sarah Bishop who owned “The Ship” tavern. Of the many side notes in this article, I should mention that the songs sang in the taverns were as raunchy as anything we could come up with today. *insert full body blush*

 
A member of her husband’s family married into the powerful Putnam family and felt that she was owed some of the profits of her late brother’s business. The Putnam family was a prominent member of the Puritan Church and was a main accuser in the Trials.

 
Another reason for the Trials was that the Pastor in Salem, Samuel Parris, was persecuting those that had voted against his becoming the leader of their church and were therefore not paying their portion of his salary.

 
Other researchers believe that what started the accusations was ergot of rye. Ergot is known to cause hallucinations and body contortions that the original accusers were noted as having.

 
These accusations also occurred in a particularly cold winter which is, historically, when most accusations of witch craft and trials happened. These trials were more than likely the darkest period in Puritan history.

 
When it came to education the Puritans were truly a society to marvel at. If a village had more than eighty residents they were to establish a school that was funded by the taxes collected. Both sexes were taught to read – primarily so they could read from the bible or help in the house hold, but at least they were all literate. This puts them ahead of many other societies at the time.

 
They were also the ones to print the first bible in the New World. The first was actually written in Algonquin by John Eliot. After taking the time to learn the language in hopes of converting the Natives, Mr. Eliot realized that certain words did not exist in the Algonquin language. This can be seen in the passages regarding the birth of Christ.

 
Though their clothes were bland and they were a reserved bunch of people one thing about them that was neither, was food. Much of what they ate would be on par with some of today’s top chefs. Food was prepared in the European or African styles and was enjoyed by all.

 
Meals were served three times a day with breakfast usually being stew and bread, lunch being a left over with some type of fruit and dinner was usually bread and cheese. All of this was accompanied with either cider or beer.

 
To get an idea of the type of foods they ate, the first “Thanksgiving” consisted of eel, mussels, lobster and other assorted meats. Squash, potatoes, corn, asparagus and other greens were also on the menu. And lest I forget the sweet aspect of nature strawberries, blackberries, and sweet grapes were also to be had. This type of meal would have been eaten on any day of the week as the Puritans didn’t need a particular reason to hold a feast since being alive was celebration enough.

 
On a side note I should mention something about lobster. It was considered cruel and inhumane to feed it to a prisoner – there are records of a jailer asking that it not be sent to the prisoners for this reason. This was because at the time lobster was piled up to two feet high on the beeches and could be picked up easily. When they did cook the lobster it was already dead. Therefor when it came out of the pot it was disgusting. The only reason they ate it at all is because it was so plentiful a food source. That is a massive change from what lobster is considered today.

 
Their beliefs on marriage came as the largest surprise to me. Puritans did not believed in arranged marriage. Men tended to marry by the age of twenty-six and women at twenty-three. A marriage was based on love. There were courtship rules and men would often by small gifts for the family of the girl he was courting. A woman was free to turn down an offer of courtship.

 
Obviously sex was reserved for marriage but it was not frowned upon. Puritans believed that sex was an act of love and a healthy part of a marriage.

 
Women were expected to be obedient and be able to be a help to the husband in his daily life. Women were expected to be what they are by nature, a help mate.

 
While frowned upon, a divorce was granted in certain circumstances. Those circumstances were abuse and neglect. A man convicted of either was often fined, imprisoned, or executed. Women were also allowed a divorce if a man proved impotent. In this last way, the views of Puritans seem extremely modern.

 
While children were a blessing, they were also essential to keeping a colony afloat. Aside from life older children were also able to contribute to the work force – a thought that makes many modern minds shudder.

 
All of this research leads me to wonder how far removed we are from the beliefs of our ancestors. In one way, I would say not very. In another, drastically so. If the only way to understand the modern world is through religion than maybe we should ask ourselves why we still believe that an institution has more sway over our lifestyles than we as humans do. I personally don’t believe that an institution of any sort should dictate what I, or you, can do. I do believe that we should all respect one another. But my beliefs are not what I am questioning; and that doesn’t make me different from anyone else.

 
In conclusion I would say that in one form or another the Puritan beliefs still exist to this day, what we see in reference to them is up to us. They have different names, but as a whole are generally classified as the Religious Right. They are often considered old-fashioned in their views and beliefs but they aren’t necessarily wrong. Just different and in my personal opinion, close minded.

Toy Factory Revolution

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It being close to Christmas I had a new story idea. What happens when Santa’s elves want to make new toys?

So far the newest story involves snowflake disco-ball lights, wide-collared shirts, nervous elves, and glitter.

This has proven interesting so far and the following is what I have come up with so far.

As always feel free to share with me what you think and Happy Reading!

Flames danced in the fireplace lending their warmth to the patrons of the Cocoa and Cider Shoppe.

 
Groups of two and three sat at little round tables; frozen, mirrored snowflakes were suspended above the tables providing multicolored light. Cups of steaming cocoa and cider littered the tables.

 
In a corner table sat three elves – Gloriana, Barstol, and Alfred; the head elf.
“We have to try,” Gloriana insisted as the snowflake chains in her hair tinkled like little bells.

 
“I know Gloriana, but you can’t change a thousand years of tin soldiers and orange cloves overnight,” Alfred agreed as he tugged on his wide, paisley print collar.

 
“The tailor elves aren’t going to like it if you rip another collar,” Barstol reminded Alfred.

 
“I can’t help a nervous twitch! All elves have them,” Alfred exclaimed as he tugged on his collar once more.

 
“Not all elves lose their collars three times a day,” Barstol shot back.

 
“Boys, can we please talk about the toys,” Gloriana sighed.

 
“How do we change Santa’s mind,” Barstol quietly asked.

 
“There has to be a way,” Gloriana insisted as she looked around the room.

 
“SHHH,” Alfred and Barstol whispered in unison as they nervously glanced around the shoppe.

 
“You don’t want the Elven Guard to overhear us, do you,” Alfred squeakily asked as he tugged once more on his paisley print collar.

 
“I hear they changed their paint formula,” Barstol informed.

 
Gloriana groaned as she tilted her head causing the snowflake chains in her hair to twinkle. “What did they do now? The last time their paint balls tagged me, I couldn’t get those silver snowflakes off of my favorite gold dress,” she complained as she drank the last of her cider.

 
“The slurping sounds of an empty cup,” a waiter with dirty blond hair sighed as he approached their table with another mug in hand. “Another cider with extra nutmeg for you, Gloriana,” he stated as he sat the mug down without rattling the china cup against the saucer.

 
Thanks Jack,” Gloriana returned with a smile.

 
With a jaunty wink, Jack sauntered away leaving the elves to their conversation.
“Have you tried the Tailor Elves,” Alfred wondered.

 
“I know an apprentice Tailor and she about popped her eyes out when she saw it,” Gloriana confirmed.

 
“What did you tell her,” Alfred asked with a nervous tug.

 
“I told her it was a new design that I painted by accident,” Gloriana replied smugly.

 
“Clever,” Alfred commended.

 
“Not really. She set me up with the Master Tailor. They want to copy the design for the mid-Christmas Clothing Line.”

 
“Better that than behind Tinsel Bars,” Barstol chuckled; to which Alfred nodded sagely.

 
“That would not be good for the toys,” Gloriana pointed out.

 
“What toys,” Barstol pointed out. “We’re still producing the traditional Christmas treats from a century ago,” he groused.

 
“How do we get The Man to see that times are changing,” Gloriana asked while her shaking her head.

 
“Which brings us back to our original discussion,” Alfred glumly stated.

A Recommendation For You

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Hi all,

Talked to a fellow author friend of mine and she is currently running a promotion on her books. This post is solely dedicated to the author PM Barnes. PM Barnes is a horror and quirky romance novelist who enjoys telling tales that stray from the normal path of things. I guarantee that when she tells a story, you are sure to be surprised at every twist and turn.

Tony

Her newest book is Tony, a romance that walks in the same world that many of us travail every day. In her own words, TONY is not a traditional romance.

The journey you are about to undertake is going to be realistically intimate, not contrived.
Reading this is going to be like sitting in a bar with a good friend and hearing about their experience.

It is important that you know that and that you keep that in mind as you make your way through these pages.

This story is a mixture of fact and fiction, compiled from personal experience along with that of other people, both male and female, gathered up over many years and multiple occasions.

Finding the right person has never been easy.

We’ve changed as a culture.

The introduction to web dating has leveled the field a bit and opened up an array of options, but it has also brought its own set of special challenges and crazy.

Tony is a glimpse of what it looks like to find yourself single in a new city, unsure about what your long-term relationship needs are, but edging closer to the time when you have to start making concrete ideas about if you do or do not want to spend your life with someone.

The characters you’ll meet, are made up of bits of real people and their interactions. It’s edgy and because of that, you’ll have laugh-out-loud and cringe-worthy moments alike.

This tale is one of those that you’ll tell your friends about while sharing details of your own walks through the strange world of online dating.

So, sit back, grab a beer or a glass of wine and hear about what happens to Sam when she chooses to use Craigslist for more than just finding a new end table.

This is what TONY is about. Can you handle seeing the everyday world as someone just like you would see it? I highly suggest you read a romance that is more what you would see than what you would expect.

Viral Snow

When it comes to horror, I think you will absolutely love VIRAL SNOW; how can you not like the story of someone witnessing the end of humanity? Can you handle losing the thing you find most precious? This short read will have you by the heart strings as you relate to its main character, Mia. This particular read has consistent 5 star ratings and will keep you on the edge of your seat.

All of this tells me that everyone should take a quick afternoon to reside in Mia’s world.

You can find the works of PM Barnes here.

As always,

Happy Reading!!