Weather Warning

 

Weather Warning

A redbird came to eat today,
flew by the tray
of fruit and grain
as drops of rain
began to plop and plop and plop.
When each big drop
became a splash,
I heard a crash
and looked to find the bird of red
with tufted head,
escaping claws
of cat’s wet paws.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

HAIKU 1 September 2018

scent of new-mown grass
in afternoon shade of oaks
early September

© Freeda Baker Nichols

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 55 Grandma’s Gift

GRANDMA’S GIFT

Baby snuggles beneath the warmth

of a quilt that Grandma made

with pattern from a color book–

animals in a parade.

Some of them bark, some bite, some dance–

their colors are very bright

and baby loves to sing to them

when he goes to bed at night.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

Published: Butterfly Quilt Patterns

Ruger takes a nap, too.

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 43 Two Kittens

My kitten named Polly was silky black with white trim about her face. She looked like a tiny panther, which had been sprinkled with honey and then turned loose in a cotton patch. The white patches resembled bits of cotton stuck to the honey on the black, silky fur. Honey was an appropriate way to describe Polly because, as a child, I loved my kitten very much.
Another kitten, called Peter, was my sister’s pet. I suppose that sometime in the first readers, Yvonne and I must have read stories of Peter and Polly, a little boy and girl, because I know that as a child I was not creative enough to think of original names.
As an adult, I found that naming my children was a difficult task. When I gave birth to four babies, I was flabbergasted–not about the four babies–about how to choose suitable names. The babies did not come to me during one delivery time; they were delivered at four different times, spaced quite appropriately, I thought. They were spaced from two years and eight months to five years between them, so that the range of time I had children in the house was a total of thirty years. That makes me sound very old, but I don’t feel old. I must be getting old though because now I’m remembering my childhood and Polly.
Polly was a kitten which I loved with all the love and warmth that a little girl can give to a family pet. My sister and I treated Peter and Polly like real children, feeding them milk, trying to put them on a schedule, making them take a nap. Polly often would nap, but Peter never did. And he was spanked many times for misbehaviour. But spanking Peter made him worse instead of better.
My sister and I tried to feed the kittens three meals a day from one glass of milk. Our “day” might be only half an hour, and often Polly would take her nap and eat again when the milk was offered to her in a short while, which we called lunch time. But Peter thought he should drink the whole glass of milk in one great gulp for breakfast.
I can’t recall what happened to the kittens. I do not think, though, that it’s because I’m older or that my memory has faded. I think the kittens just went away, the way children see things like that go away.
My sister and I are stronger because we held close to our hearts, literally, two little kittens who might have been just as happy without us,but without them, we would not have grown to love and create as deeply as we do. My sister is now an artist and this story makes me a writer–I think.

© Copyright, 2012, Freeda Baker Nichols

Yvonne & Freeda                     Nella                   Freeda & Yvonne

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 42–Autumn in the Ozarks

little squirrel in the water oak– rainy day

Wayside Flowers

Horse-drawn mower rusts and the horse rests.

ninety two degrees no breeze on the mountain naptime

Cougar on a post.

Owl photo, copyright 2013 by Dianne

When it’s Autumn in the Ozarks
and all the animals are fed.
When the hoot owl calls at nighttime
while I lie in my little bed.

The who-who sound is repeated,
far away, yet as close as night
that is dark outside my window–
the owl must be a pretty sight.

And oh, if I could find that owl
who gently wakes me with its call,
I would join it in the treetops
and not go back to sleep, at all.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

 

 

 

Two Kittens

Here’s one of my favorite stories, reblogged from my blog!

Freeda Baker Nichols

My kitten named Polly was silky black with white trim about her face. She looked like a tiny panther, which had been sprinkled with honey and then turned loose in a cotton patch. The white patches resembled bits of cotton stuck to the honey on the black, silky fur. Honey was an appropriate way to describe Polly because, as a child, I loved my kitten very much.

Another kitten, called Peter, was my sister’s pet. I suppose that sometime in the first readers, Yvonne and I must have read stories of Peter and Polly, a little boy and girl, because I know that as a child I was not creative enough to think of original names.

As an adult, I found that naming my children was a difficult task. When I gave birth to four babies, I was flabbergasted–not about the four babies–about how to choose suitable names. The babies…

View original post 323 more words

A Cat Tale

© 2016 Freeda Baker Nichols

“A WRITER SHOULDN’T BE . . .”

Quote: “A writer shouldn’t be engaged with other writers, or with people who make books, or even with people who read them.  The further you get away from the literary traffic, the closer you are to sources.” Nelson Algren

This quote is printed in the margin of my journal of March 1980. My own words beside it are these: I suppose there’s a lot of truth in the statement. However, I  think the writer’s conference  inspired me onward. I’m still writing.
© Freeda Baker Nichols

Dear Editor “Blogging 101”

© Freeda Baker Nichols’ Blogging 101 Assignment: Targeting my audience. Feb. 4, 2015

Ozark Calendars Editor
Ozark, Ozarks

Dear Editor:

I have admired your beautiful calendars for years. In fact, since I was a child. Mother always bought your calendars. Year after year, one of your calendars hung on the wall in our modest little home out on the mountain. Mother’s gone now, and Papa, too.  I don’t live on the mountain anymore.
But I live close by. And I’ve become a photographer.

Many, many people have told me that my pictures would be good in calendars. I tend to agree. So I’ve prepared this portfolio to send to you in hopes that you will see how these pictures resemble the kind of pictures you always print on your calendars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this is Mama Cat
she had two litters of cats
and she’s retired now

 

 

 

 

 

this here is Twister
I wanted to name him Storm
but Mister said no

 

 

 

 

 

this cat is Calvin
he likes to hunt and climb trees
he once caught a shrew

 

 

 

 

 

the brown goat, Copper,
loves to run on the hillside
in Ozark Mountains

 

So, Dear Editor, this is just a sample of my many pictures. If they appear to be to your liking, and if you should like to see more samples, it will be my pleasure to send them to you. And so, I will close now.

Yours truly,

a photographer in the Ozarks

A Bird and Two Cats