Tag: family-history

Fury of the Wind

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

He threw his head back and laughed. But it wasn’t a mirthful
sound. “In Nimkus? That’ll be the day.”
He gulped his coffee, pushed his chair back roughly and went
out. Sarah stared after him, unaware that two tears were sliding
down her cheeks. O
The road to the neighbours proved to be little more than a cow
trail across the adjoining farms. Flicka’s hooves scattered yellow
petals of black-eyed Susans as she trotted over the dry pasture land.
Due to Ben’s warning, Sarah became especially cautious when they
reached the path along the ravine. But she need not have worried,
because Flicka navigated it with a sure-footed gait, and ignored the
brush covered bank that fell away to the gully a hundred feet below.
Only a thin ribbon of murky water was visible at its base, but Ben
said that after a heavy rain it became a gushing river.
Another quarter mile along the path, after rounding a poplar
bluff, Flicka came to a halt at a barbed wire fence that obviously
divided the Fielding and McNeill properties. Sarah dismounted to
open the prairie gate. The farm site was now visible, and she could
see that they were approaching it from the back. A country road ran
close by the front of the two-storied white frame house. The house
itself stood in the shade of a grove of maple trees.
A windmill stood sentinel between the house and the outbuildings,
and Sarah felt a pang of envy when she realized that their
neighbours had electric lighting. This farm seemed a sharp contrast
to the ones she had seen on the road from Nimkus. Every outbuilding,
from the smallest shed to the imposing hip-roofed barn,
sported a dark red coat of paint.
They came to another gate and, as Sarah prepared to dismount,
she saw a man wave to her from where he had been bending over
the engine of a red tractor.
“Hold it,” he called, “I’ll get the gate for you.”
As he walked towards her, closely followed by a brown and white
mongrel dog, Sarah could see that this was not Dave McNeill. Although
tall, he appeared shorter than Dave, and his curly hair was
darker although definitely auburn. But when he grinned up at her
where she sat astride Flicka, she could see the features were …

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073530

In Turbulent Times

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excerpt

Petty Officer Joseph Ignatius Carney sat in an empty compartment, staring out sadly at the green and yellow countryside of England. The train chugged through it noisily and slowly. It looked so peaceful. Who could have believed that the country was at war, that it had just been fighting for its very survival like a fish on a hook? Now the worst was over and the battle for Britain won. But the battle for Europe was not going well. The German army had pushed into Yugoslavia and Greece. Yugoslavia had surrendered, and the future for Greece looked grim.
Here in England all of that was a world away. Cows lazily grazed the fresh spring grass. New-born lambs on new-found, nimble legs scampered after shaggy ewes. The first crops were growing in the ploughed fields, and women, girls, young boys, and old men joined farmers in waging their own war against the invidious invasion of weeds. In the few orchards that the train chugged by, the apple and the cherry trees were dressed in blossom like lovely, young spring brides. The April sun was warm, and the faces that turned to watch the train pass noisily by were tanned already. So few were young men’s faces. Many were the so-called Land Girls, thousands of them, recruited from the city to boost farm production to thwart the German blockade of imports brought to the country by sea. Barmaids, waitresses, maids, hairdressers and others working in urban female occupations proved themselves tougher in the fields than the sceptical farmers had imagined. They worked fifty hours a week in summer, forty-eight in winter, ploughing fields, driving tractors, making hay. They undertook the full rigours of harvesting, threshing, and thatching. They also reclaimed land, worked in orchards and market gardens, and though they had to steel themselves to do it, they caught rats as well. As for the men, most of England’s farming labourers were far from their fields and pastures. In other fields their tired, tense faces, rank on rank, were shaded only by their gun-barrels. They were strained and stressed and drained of colour. Or smashed to gory pulp. Or still, limestone grey, like the faces in church effigies, turned towards the blue sky, their eyes closed in the unsought peace of death.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562904

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763270

Still Waters

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Excerpt

Carol Ann tossed her head. “I can’t think of anything better.”
Tyne grinned and glanced at her watch. “Hey look, gang, it’s getting
on to dinner time. I’d like to go have a peek at the roster before
we eat. So hurry up and change, then we can get to the cafeteria before
the rush. I’m starved.”
A few minutes later, as they hurried along the corridor, Tyne said,
“Did either of you see the menu board? What’s for dinner?”
“It’s Sunday. Need you ask?”
“Oh no, not beef stroganoff on my first day back?”
Moe poked her in the ribs. “No, sorry to disappoint you, kiddo.
Not beef stroganoff. That’s just their fancy name for it. It’s plain old
beef stew.”
Tyne groaned. The house mother, having overheard their comments,
looked up and scowled as they passed her desk.
As they spilled out the door onto the street, Tyne murmured under
her breath, “Oh, Mom, I sure miss you now.” 
Tyne stood at the nursing station on St. Francis and listened intently
as Sister Mary Louise assigned the graduates and student nurses
their duties for the day. Six of them gathered around the desk, two of
them third-year students. Joan Farr from the September class looked
nervous. She had just attained her third-year status, and probably
did not feel quite ready for the private patients on St. Francis, many
of whom were professional people, two of them doctors.
Tyne remembered Moe’s words as the three roomies ate breakfast
in the dining hall that morning. “It doesn’t matter how much money
they have, Tyne. Just remember that in bed with nothing on but a
skimpy nightshirt, they’re just the same as you and me.”
Tyne repeated the words to herself as she made her way down the
corridor with a tray of medications.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068