A CARDINAL IN APRIL

A female cardinal fluffs her feathers in April’s cool breeze, one Ozark Mountain day.

Banner Mountain Girl # 74

Almost April

It is almost time for April
to arrive in colors bright.
Forsythia shines in yellow,
hyacinth in blue delight.
The wildflowers pop up pink,      
apple blossoms white as snow
while dandelions hug the lawn     
to begin the springtime show.

It is almost time for April
but it’s raining every day.
Can it be that all these showers
will keep falling until May?
© Freeda Baker Nichols

 

Banner Mountain Girl # 69

From my journal: “It is raining very hard. The sky is dark and heavy with clouds full of water. It is a day in which I am usually lonely, but today my heart is filled with joy that is lasting over into this dark and rainy day.”

I am a writer and I must write. Often, I wonder what is new to write? Even if, like Hemingway, I should begin with one true sentence, how would I complete a work that I haven’t even thought about? It’s amazing how sometimes my words and phrases tumble over each other to crowd the page, and other times, the page remains blank because a long, dry spell has control of my sub-conscious. Writer’s block is for real from time to time in a writer’s life. And it’s to be expected. As far as I can tell, there’s no quick cure for it.

Journal entry: “I have no creative thoughts but I feel compelled to write something. Drove out to Banner Mountain. Enjoyed the peacefulness of the woods. I always like to go back there.”

Going back to Banner Mountain is like going back home–the place I left at the age of barely nineteen. On an autumn day following our wedding and honeymoon, my husband and I loaded our wedding gifts into the car he had borrowed from an Air Force buddy and we began our journey in life together. A couple of days later, we arrived at Smoky Hill Air Force Base out on the Kansas plains–the countryside so different from my beloved Banner Mountain, with its woodlands, its songbirds, and its kind and gentle people. I would meet other wonderful people as we followed my husband’s military career. I would live in other states in the United States and in one foreign country before my husband retired. After his retirement we moved back to Arkansas, back to the Ozarks to live not very far from Banner Mountain.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

 

Banner Mountain Girl # 66 Winter’s Night

As rain begins to turn to ice,
When sun sets,
Protect pets–
Subfreezing temps are never nice.
Mittens, cap
Fur-lined wrap.
The little birds arise in flight,
Feathers fluffed
Hanging tough.
They roost in trees in winter’s night.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

 

 

Banner Mountain Girl #36 When the dark midnight is over . . .

In my time, I’ve seen some dark midnights, and with God’s help, I’ve watched the daybreaks arrive. I love this song, and, perhaps you will like it, too.  . . .
–Freeda Baker Nichols, “My True Sentence”

 

Banner Mountain Girl # 35 My Favorite Room

The Kitchen is my Favorite Room

Some writers say their favorite room is their writing room. I write in my office but it’s not my favorite room. I go there to write or to be alone. I can be sure I won’t be disturbed because I’ve had only one visitor in the several years I’ve been writing. One day, time slipped by as I worked on an article and my husband came in to ask what time dinner would be served. I no longer spend a lot of time in my kitchen — and my husband might not believe this — but my kitchen is my favorite room.

African Violets bloom from my kitchen window which faces east, and that pleases me because they are supposed to thrive only in light from the north, and I don’t have a north window for violets. My kitchen window not only provides a shelf for potted plants, it also allows me to see the driveway which brings friends to my door.

Friends and family are important to me — like good books — and in my kitchen I like preparing foods and beverages for people. Their compliments are more rewarding than I deserve but it’s part of the reason why I like my kitchen.  I don’t like to clean my kitchen floor, but I like a spotless floor and when the floor is sparkling, I like my kitchen even better.

In the near future, I plan to remodel my kitchen. In its present state, it’s far from a picture model in Better Homes and Gardens. My husband is either lucky or unlucky that I have a sense of humor, because without it I would not have survived the many years of preparing meals from this kitchen. Without my sense of humor, my husband and I might have parted with this kitchen, or I might have parted with my husband, one of the two.

I realized I had a sense of humor when my son got married. Following tradition, I invited my son’s fiancé and her parents for dinner. Her mother stood in my kitchen talking about the wedding shower which was given in her hometown for the newlyweds-to-be.

“They received everything. Just everything,” she said, “except fine china.”

Oh, I thought, fine china. They must have fine china. As I opened my cabinet to get a pan, every piece of Tupperware I own came crashing out and spilled onto the floor. That’s when I laughed. Laughter costs a lot less than tears and I’m an economical person.

Today I changed two light bulbs in my kitchen. My husband would have changed them but it’s so easy to ask him to do that, I decided that changing the bulbs was more of a challenge than asking him, so I changed them. I hope this doesn’t prove I can get along without my husband, because I can’t. I need him, not only to compliment my cooking but also to proofread my novel.

It’s a romance and an exciting adventure for me. I hope it’s a best seller, but if not, I’ll try another category. From my favorite room, I’ll share a secret or two. Good cookbooks are always in demand.

cowboy stew simmers on stove

~© Freeda Baker Nichols

 

Banner Mountain Girl # 34

Sea Star

I live in the ocean
in a far away land.
One day I was swept
onto the dry sand.

A sweet girl picked me up
by one of my arms
and I was impressed
by her human charms.

Somehow, she knew
that I longed to be free.
She gently carried me back
home to the sea.

Rockport — A Place Beside the Sea

~~© Freeda Baker Nichols

Banner Mountain Girl # 33

From my journal . . . dated 1980 . . . random thoughts

Days that come as bright as the golden sun filtering from a blue sky. Sun that filters from a blue sky. Sparkles of sun that sifts down in lines that eaglets follow. Birds opening their beaks, reaching for food. Worms. Food for birds. Birds singing. Happy birds. Birds have problems, too. Keep the cat away. Keep the people away from the nest of eggs or baby birds. Many kinds of birds. They sing with different melodies. They are beautiful. They are of many colors. Yellow, black, orange, red, blue, purple.

A million blackbirds flew over the house. They made a huge shadow when they were in the sunlight. They alighted on the bare limbs of the gigantic oak tree. They looked like big leaves on the tree. They all flew to the ground. They looked like a big black carpet.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

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blue jays

grackles

Message

I haven’t been blogging lately because I fell a few weeks ago and fractured my left hand.  It’s in a splint and is healing. I hope to be back at the computer in a couple weeks. Can’t type very well with the hunt and peck system. 🙂

—- Freeda Baker Nichols

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 27 birthplace and homeplace

I wandered far from Banner Mountain . . . far from the place where I was born.

. . . But never have I forgotten where I am from.

My folks were one of the families of the Banner Mountain community whose houses nestled along a road that still is hard dirt, clay and rocks. Our address once was Route 2 and we had a mailbox number, which does not immediately come to my mind.

A few years ago, when 911 maps were introduced, the road by my homeplace was named Silver Rock.

My grandparents lived along this road in a house with a breezeway. After my grandpa died, my folks with five children moved into the house with Grandma and my aunt. My grandma’s house with a breezeway is the place of my birth.

The breezeway was converted into more rooms and though no one lives in the house today, it still exists as the homestead of my grandparents.

While my parents were living with Grandma, my dad built our homeplace nearby. When I was about one year old, the family moved into our new frame house. So the house Daddy built became home to me and I never left until I married at age nineteen.

With my husband I moved far, far away from Banner Mountain . . . I followed my husband in his travels with the Air Force . . . but never have I forgotten where I am from.
© Freeda Baker Nichols

a painting of my homeplace by my sister, Yvonne Baker Hall. © copyright, Yvonne Hall.