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Meet Clara Thimblewick — A Holiday Note from Little Red Bear Land

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From the Winter Desk of Clara Thimblewick

INTRODUCTION —

As we make our way through this busy December stretch, I thought it might be nice to pause for just a moment and share a quiet word from someone new in our Honey Hill world — someone many of you first met a few days ago in “The Lantern in Clara Thimblewick’s Window.”

Clara Thimblewick will soon be stepping into an important role in our community. Beginning in January, she will serve as the Editor of The Hearth & Holler Gazette, guiding our weekly wanderings through Honey Hill, Hopper’s Holler, Round Corners, and beyond with a steady hand and a thoughtful eye.

After spending much of her life working in newspapers back East, Clara has returned to Missouri to take up this new post and, in her words, “to resume a more measured life than present-day city rhythms permit.”

As a small seasonal greeting — and an early chance to become acquainted — Clara wished to offer a brief message to readers here on The Writing Pages. I am delighted to share her note with you today.

A Holiday Note from Clara Thimblewick —

It is my hope that this message finds you in a moment of quiet, however small such moments may be in December. The soft light of winter has a way of inviting reflection, even in the midst of the season’s many demands, and I am grateful for the opportunity to address you for the first time.

Although my name may be unfamiliar to you at present, please allow me to offer a brief introduction. I was raised in Missouri during childhood, later sent East for my schooling, and remained there for many years while building a career in the newspapers. I have now returned home to serve as Editor of The Hearth & Holler Gazette, a responsibility I accept with both humility and resolve. It is my intention to honor the stories of this community with clarity, fairness, and respect.

There is much work ahead as we prepare the Gazette for its January debut. New ventures often bring with them a quiet sense of anticipation, and I feel it very keenly. In time, I hope to become a familiar presence in your weekly reading — not by insistence, but by steady and conscientious service.

For now, I simply wish to extend to you my warmest regard during this winter season. May the quieter hours be gentle company to you and may the small lights along your path — a lamp in a window, a friendly word, a simple kindness — bring you a measure of comfort as the year draws to its close.

With sincere respect,
Clara Thimblewick 
Editor, “The Hearth & Holler Gazette” 

 

 

CLOSING THOUGHTS —

I hope Clara’s note brought a touch of calm to your day. She will be joining us more regularly once the Gazette begins its weekly visits in January, and I am looking forward to the steady presence she will bring to our little corner of Honey Hill Country.

Thank you for reading and settin’ a spell with us today.

— Jim (and Red!)

If you would enjoy a weekly visit to Little Red Bear’s Honey Hill Country, you are already in the right place. A simple subscription to The Writing Pages is all that is required. Beginning in January, the Hearth & Holler Gazette will arrive automatically each week, bringing a small slice of Honey Hill Country to your doorstep.

 

P.S. from Little Red Bear — “Clara is too polite to say it, but I am not — you ought to sign up for the Gazette. Good things are on the way, and I would hate for you to miss out.”

Welcome to Honey Hill Country!

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A Gentle Orientation for New Friends and Longtime Neighbours

There is a certain quiet that settles over the hollers when December takes hold — a quiet you can almost feel, the way you might feel the weight of a warm quilt laid gently across your shoulders. The wind comes down off the ridges a little sharper this time of year, slipping between the bare branches and rattling the porch boards just enough to remind you that winter has indeed arrived. And if you happen to look out across the valley at dusk, you may notice a lantern glowing in a window here and there, yellow and soft against the early dark, as though each home were setting out a small welcome for travelers on the road.

It seemed to me, while watching one of those lanterns bobbing along the path the other evening, that it might be time to offer a word of welcome myself — especially for anyone new wandering into The Writing Pages, or for long-time friends who may be wondering about this place we so often visit together and the changes you have been seeing. I realized that the sights and sounds we describe — these lantern-lit evenings and soft-spoken neighbours and wood smoke rising in the hollows — may not make much sense without knowing where — and when — we are standing.

So let me pull back the curtain just a little.

In these pages, when we speak of Honey Hill Country, we are stepping into the world and time of my main story character, Little Red Bear, as it was in December of 1903, and soon, as we come to the gentle turning of the calendar page from 1903 into 1904. Automobiles exist but remain a curiosity; electricity flickers in the cities but has scarcely reached the countryside.

Here in Honey Hill Country, life is still measured by the seasons, not the seconds. Lanterns guide our evenings. You can hear locomotives huffing and chuffing through the countryside, ribbons of smoke unfurling behind them clear to the horizon. And along the wide rivers, the old steamboats travel slow and steady, paddlewheels turning like great clocks while calliopes lift their bright notes over the water. Folks talk face-to-face because there is no other way worth mentioning. A pot of beans on the stove counts as good hospitality, and neighbourliness is something you do, not something you merely talk about.

Why 1904, you might ask?

Well, it is a year standing right on the threshold between the old and the new. The St. Louis World’s Fair, “The Louisiana Purchase Exposition,” is on the horizon, promising wonders from every corner of the globe, yet here in the hills and hollers of Missouri, daily life remains close to the soil — simple, practical, familiar. There is a charm in that moment of balance, a gentleness, as though the whole world were taking a long breath before rushing onward. It feels like the right place to set down our stories — far from the noise of modern life, but close enough to recognize ourselves in the faces around the hearth.

Honey Hill Country isn’t on any map, of course. It lives somewhere between memory and imagination — a small, steadfast corner of southern Missouri and the Ozarks Mountain Region, where the kettle always seems to be singing, the porch is always open for settin’ a while, and kindness hasn’t yet gone out of fashion. And yes, it is “settin’,” and not “sitting,” around these parts. Settin’ is something folks in the Ozarks and Honey Hill Country do — we “set.” City and modern-day folks “sit.” And there is a difference. Many readers have told me they come here for a bit of comfort, a chance to slow down, to reconnect with a gentler pace of living. And truth be told, I write for the very same reason.

Now, as to the neighbours who populate these parts — Little Red Bear most of all — I should confess that I never quite know when he’s going to show up. Sometimes he arrives with a story to tell, sometimes with a question, and sometimes just because the cookies and biscuit tin are within easy reach.

In fact, as I was here writing this welcome, there came the sound of boots — well, paws — on the porch, followed by a brisk knock. The door swung open and in stepped Little Red Bear himself, brushing snowflakes off his fur and carrying a lantern that threw warm light across the room.

Red leaned over my shoulder like he owned the place.

“Whatcha writin’ there, Jim?” he asked. “Looks serious. One of those times when you’re tryin’ to sound like that Mark Twain fella again?”

“Red,” I said, “Mark Twain had more wit and wisdom in his little finger than I’ve got in my whole body. I’m just trying to say hello to the good folks stopping by.”

He squinted at the page. “Mmm. Coulda fooled me. That line there’s got a little twang to it. You plannin’ to grow yourself one of those big mustaches like his? Get a white suit, too? ’Cause if you do, I’m headin’ straight back to my cabin till spring.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “The holler’s barbers have nothing to fear from me.”

Little Red Bear teasingly pulled my ponytail and nodded in agreement.

Red then mumbled something good-naturedly about poor starving barbers and hung his lantern on the peg. “Long as you don’t start smokin’ cigars or tellin’ riverboat stories, we’re probably safe.”

“No cigars, so safe with that,” I replied. “But the riverboat stories… well, we’ll see.”

He settled into the chair across from me, paws spread toward the warmth of the stove. “So what are you tellin’ the folks?”

“Well,” I said, “I thought they might like to know that it’s December 1903 in our world, and that we’re headed into 1904 together.”

Red nodded, satisfied. “That’s good. Clara will like that. She’s been fussin’ over the Gazette press like a hen over a single chick. Wants folks to know what they’re steppin’ into. We’re all steppin’ into 1904. ”

Ah yes — the Gazette.

Beginning toward the latter part of January — Saturday, January 24th, to be exact — the very first edition of the Hearth & Holler Gazette will be inked, folded, and carried out into Honey Hill Country, dated January 24, 1904. Clara Thimblewick, our esteemed editor, has been preparing diligently, sharpening pencils, straightening proofs, and setting type with all the quiet efficiency of a woman who has newspaper ink running in her veins.

Between now and then you will likely catch glimpses of her at her desk by lamplight, hunched over columns and headlines. The Gazette will bring stories from around the holler, local doings, humour, recipes, sketches, and whatever else the week happens to blow in over the ridge — a weekly visit meant to offer a little comfort, a little company, and perhaps a smile or two along the way. It is 1903 stepping soon into 1904 here, remember, and things are about to get exciting as the “Louisiana Purchase Exposition” is scheduled to open in St. Louis soon!

Clara has already begun assembling a most curious and capable little staff for the Gazette — a cast of neighbours whose talents are as varied as the holler itself. A collection of characters so diverse and unexpected that even Little Red Bear shakes his head sometimes. You’ll be meeting them soon enough.

And here, in the modern world where we share these tales, it will arrive each week as a gentle reminder that not everything has to be fast, loud, or fraught with urgency. Some things — the best things, perhaps — are meant to be savored. A story. A kind word or gesture. The rise and fall of seasons. A lantern in the window. A visit with an old friend. A little bear named Cinnamon Charlie, who asks hard questions at the most inconvenient times.

So, whether you’ve been following along for years or have only just wandered in, please know you are welcome here. Truly welcome. Honey Hill Country is meant to be a resting place, a quiet corner in a noisy world, a weekly ramble down a simpler path. And if you choose to subscribe to the Gazette when it launches, you will be joining us not only in reading the stories, but in living a little with us each week — stepping into 1904 with Clara Thimblewick, Little Red Bear, Cinnamon Charlie, and all the neighbours who call this place home.

All of this — Honey Hill Country, the Gazette, the neighbours you will meet — is fictional storytelling through and through, shared freely every Saturday morning to offer a little rest for the mind, a gentler way to breathe at week’s end, and to ease you into the quieter hours of the weekend. All that’s necessary is a little imagination and the willingness to wander along with us each week — a small gift from our corner of the holler to yours.

Little Red Bear rose from the chair and took up his lantern again. “Well,” he said, “I best be goin’. Snow’s pickin’ up and I promised Jeffrey, my rabbit gardening friend, that I’d help him cover the herb patch.” Then he turned back with a small smile. “Just be sure you tell the folks they’re welcome here anytime. You can do that without soundin’ too much like Mark Twain, can’t ya?”

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

And so I will.

Welcome, friend. The lantern is lit, the door is open, and the path into Honey Hill Country lies just ahead.

So please consider this your invitation to join us each week. And if you haven’t already, please feel free to tap that little ‘Subscribe’ button over on the right so our weekly visits from Honey Hill and the Hearth & Holler Gazette find their way straight to you every Saturday morning. We’d be honored to have your company.

Thanks for settin’ a spell with us.
— Jim (and Red!)

Accepting Winter’s Welcome

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There is a moment every year when Autumn quietly hands the reins to Winter. No trumpets, no grand announcement, just that subtle shift you feel more than see. The air turns sharper on your cheeks, the last stubborn leaves skitter across the yard, and you suddenly notice that your favourite jacket has become a necessity instead of a choice.

Have you felt that little turn of the season tugging at your sleeve lately?

Winter has a reputation, of course — cold winds, long nights, and frosty car windows that need scraping when you’re already running late. But there is another side to it, a gentler, kinder Winter that comes to the door not as a hardship, but as a welcome guest. That’s the Winter I like to greet each year, and maybe you do, too.

It’s there in the simple things.

In the warmth of a mug of hot cocoa cupped in cold hands after coming back inside from raking the last of the leaves or filling the bird feeders. In snow boots by the door and a little trail of dried leaves that somehow hitchhiked in with you. In the quiet satisfaction of tugging off your gloves, your fingers tingling back to life as the house wraps around you like a familiar quilt.

Outside, if you listen, you can almost hear Winter humming to itself. Wood smoke lingers on the air, drifting from chimneys as neighbours coax old stoves and fireplaces back into service. Maybe you have taken that early morning walk with the dog — bundled up, breath frosting into little clouds — watching thin ribbons of wood smoke curl lazily into the pale sky. The streets seem softer, somehow, as if the whole world is padding around in thick socks, speaking in a whisper.

And then, as it always does this time of year, Winter begins to guide us indoors.
The cold stays on the other side of the windowpane, and the house takes on that warm, lived-in feeling we somehow forget until the season reminds us.

Inside, the kitchen becomes its own small refuge, full of the little rituals Winter invites back into our lives. There is a certain relaxation — a kind of peace of mind — that comes from kneading bread. The steady, rhythmic stretching and folding, the gentle push and turn. It all feels like something our hands were meant to remember. After a few minutes, the world quiets down a little. The dough softens, your thoughts soften with it, and the simple act of rounding and working it smooth becomes its own kind of comfort.

I don’t bake much bread in the summertime anymore. It’s too hot to turn on the oven most days. But come Winter — well, Winter is prime time for homemade bread. The house is grateful for the extra warmth, and there are few scents that say “home” quite as quickly or as surely as the smell of a fresh loaf baking in the oven.

That’s the heart of Winter, isn’t it? A season that encourages us to gently ease back into ourselves.

Inside, the house starts to change its clothes. Sunlight throws longer shadows across the floor in the late afternoon. A favourite throw blanket migrates from the back of a chair to a permanent spot within easy reach of “your” corner of the sofa. Perhaps a crockpot on the counter simmers a stew, or a pan of something comforting bubbles away in the oven.

And oh, that smell — not just something baking, but something becoming home.

Winter is really good at that, isn’t it — inviting us to slow down, look back, and look around? To breathe in, and savour the moment.

Maybe, in the warmer months, we rush from one thing to another, mowing lawns and trimming hedges, running errands under a hot sun. But Winter has a way of gently closing a few doors and whispering, “Stay in tonight.”

The early darkness nudges us to pull out the puzzle we’ve been meaning to start, to open that book waiting patiently on the nightstand, or to finally write a letter — yes, a real one on paper — to someone we’ve been thinking about for far too long.

In the soft glow of a table lamp, the wind a muffled moan against the windows, home feels a little more like a nest. We snuggle under comforters and warm blankets on chilly evenings, maybe with a crackling fire or the soft hum of a heater doing its best. A simple cup of tea or cocoa becomes a small ceremony. A favourite sweater feels like a dear old friend.

These are not grand occasions, yet they are the quiet stitches that hold a season together. That hold us together.

Of course, Winter isn’t always easy, is it? There can be loneliness tucked in with the long nights and worries that don’t simply vanish with the first snowflake. Sometimes the world outside our front doors feels a little too loud, a little too uncertain. All the more reason, I think, to be intentional about creating small islands of warmth and welcome wherever we can.

We may not be able to fix everything “out there,” but we can light a candle on the kitchen table. We can stir a pot of soup and share a bowl with a neighbour. We can check on someone who lives alone. We can watch the birds at the feeder for a few extra minutes and feel our shoulders relax just a little.

Maybe a Winter Welcome isn’t a big event at all. Maybe it’s simply an attitude — a quiet decision to meet the cold and the dark with warmth and light. To greet this season not with dread, but with a gentle sort of hospitality. To say, in our own way —
“Come in, Winter. Wipe your feet and sit a spell. Let’s make the best of things together, shall we?”

So as the days grow shorter and the nights draw round your house like a soft wool blanket, I hope you will find your own ways to welcome Winter this year. Light a lamp a little earlier. Put on the kettle. Bake that loaf of bread, even if it’s from a mix. Pull a favourite story off the shelf. Reach out to someone who might need a kind word.

After all, Winter doesn’t just bring cold winds and bare branches. It brings an invitation — to slow down, to draw closer, to remember what truly warms us.

And that’s a Winter Welcome worth accepting, don’t you think?

What little rituals help you welcome Winter each year? I’d love to hear how you make the season warm and comforting where you are.

And come Thursday, December 11th, I hope you’ll join me again for something special — a fresh holiday poem titled “Christmas Lives on Honey Hill,” capturing the spirit of Christmas as it wanders through our woods, hollers, and warm kitchen windows.

Pen-and-ink illustrations created with the assistance of AI and lovingly styled for Little Red Bear Land.

 

A Halloween Treat — The Artwork of Artist & Author Susan Alison

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Happy Halloween!

‘Tis the season that brings broom-riding dogs, cauldron-stirring cats, chilling bedtime stories, ghostly figures, and full moons, and bats, and Corgis in graveyards, and, and . . . .

Wait. What you say? Dogs and cats don’t do those sorts of things? Then perhaps you have never seen the enchanting artworks of my friend Susan Alison!

So then — let’s not a moment waste to assuage your curiosity!

A few weeks ago, I met Artist and Author Susan Alison on Facebook. Perusing Susan’s page, her brilliant artistry and images immediately took me. One conversation led to another, and long story short, in the spirit of Halloween fun, Susan graciously agreed to allow me to share some of her Halloween-themed creations with you here on my pages.

Susan Alison lives in the U.K., painting pictures and writing stories for a living. She describes her cafetières, or French press coffee pots, as “always hot.”

Dogs enter frequently into both Susan’s pictures and her prose. Quite a lot, actually, with Susan living under the paw, as she admits.

Especially her furry rescue dog-sidekick, PupperJack, who is always on paw to keep Susan’s nose to the grindstone, earning kibble. As anyone who loves dogs is aware, dogs have a tendency and inherent ability to do just that. There absolutely must be kibble in cupboard.

What follows are some of Susan Alison’s captivating Halloween artworks, with some introductory commentaries for each . . . .

“Last year’s outfit is a little tight, Mum,” he grumbled as he struggled to connect the velcro straps.

Naturally, he reasoned, it was because his human had washed and dried it on a cycle that was too hot. Shrinking it beyond comfort and measure. There was no connection whatsoever to another year of indulging in treats and lounging on the couch all day. Of course not.

“Don’t let me catch you reading ‘NOT Bedtime Tales’ tonight,” she cautioned.

Despite his mother’s warning, he simply couldn’t resist reading the book just before Halloween, and ended up scaring himself senseless, jumping at every little noise in the dark.

Feeling that preparatory test flights with new brooms would fully prepare them for Halloween’s upcoming big event, off they went across the night sky, first one and then another. And then a couple littler ones too, racing to catch up to the leaders, but on a safer, more level flight path best suited to beginners!

“Is there anyone there?” he asked politely. He was fairly certain his old pal had returned to visit once again. And it must be said, he felt quite happy about that.

“Don’t make me guard the graveyard,” I beseeched and pled.

“Simply proceed in a relaxed and confident manner,” she said.

Bats and shadows filling me with dread, while shivering past grave stones, guarding the dead. And now a Halloween blue moon has appeared overhead. Oh, I wish I could whistle or be asleep in my bed. But, instead I’m out here, alone with flying bats and the dead.

Personally, Madge thought it needed a little more salt. Though she would never say so, being the youngest of the Cat Coven, you see.

“Come on, Bill. He’s giving away bacon treats. Think about it, Bill — Bacon!”

“But we’ve already been by there three times tonight, Fred.”

“Trust me, Bill. Mr. Jacobs next door won’t recognize us this time,  dressed as Batdog and Bobbin!”

“Trick-or-Treat! Smell my feet. Gimme a bag of Milk-Bones to eat!”

“Look deep into my eyes. You will give me treats now. Because I am cute. And very fluffy!”

A big heartfelt “Thank You!” to our guest artist Susan Alison for allowing me to share some of her magical works with you! With the holiday season fast approaching, you may view and find all of Susan’s beautiful creations for sale in Susan’s Etsy Shoppe at — Susan Alison Art.

Discover more about Susan, her books, and writing work on her website – Susan Alison — Artist & Writer.

And if you are interested in learning how to create Susun’s Halloween characters yourself, watch her step-by-step tutorial on YouTube titled “How to Draw and Paint a Spooky October Picture” and more!

If you wish to share a note of thanks or other thoughts with Susan, please add them in the Comments!

“Thank You!” for visiting with us today, and for taking a few moments of your day to share with us here.

If new to the site, I encourage you to register today to be notified of every new post and feature from now on.

And please join us again next Monday, when we continue our series about living a life of gratitude leading up to the Thanksgiving holiday.

Best Wishes for a fun, safe, and not-too-scary Halloween this year! — Jim (and Red!) 🤠 🐻 🍂 🍁 🍂 🧡

(Banner Image artwork by Susan Alison)

In case you missed it, I invite you to catch up on our weekly Monday Morning series — Living A Life of Gratitude, Mental Health Benefits, Physical Health Benefits, and It’s A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood, leading up to the Thanksgiving Holiday.

You may also enjoy — “Happy October! Welcome Glorious Autumn!”, “Take A Walk To A Park for Healthy Exercise & Fun!”, and “Sharing An Autumn Delight — Baked Apple Cider Doughnuts”

If you enjoyed this piece, you may also like — “Mitakuye Oyasin — We Are All Related,” and “Walking A Mile In Another’s Moccasins; What Tracks Will We Leave Behind?”

We welcome recent visitors! Please check out “Welcome To My Writing Pages!” and “About the Blog, Jim, & Little Red Bear” to find out what we are all about. Sign up today to follow and receive notifications for every new post and feature!

In a world where we can be anything, please choose to be Kind!

When not out fishing or gathering honey, Little Red Bear and Cinnamon Charlie love to color in their spare time!

If you have little ones around or simply enjoy coloring yourself for relaxation and fun, be sure to check out “Little Red Bear’s “Happy Autumn Season!” Coloring Pages.”

Download and color as many as you like, free of charge, because that’s just how we roll here!

Happy Coloring!

 “During the day, I don’t believe in ghosts. At night, I’m a little more open-minded.” — Unknown

“Sticky fingers, tired feet; one last house, trick or treat!” — Rusty Fischer, American Author

Meet Little Red Bear & His Friends — “Once Upon A Time In A Very Special Woods”

Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages! 
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
Tap Here For A Free Preview!

Think Globally — Act Locally!

Tomorrow Begins With YOU Today!

There Is No “Planet B.”

This is a purposefully non-monetized, ad-free site to offer the most enjoyable reading and viewing experience for everyone. We freely share all content and do not generate any income to offset the costs of maintaining and operating the site.

If you enjoy your visits and time with us, I invite you to Join our Patron Community today. Together, we can do so much!

With the help of patrons, we offer Seasonal Coloring Pages, Writing and Poetry Selections, Holiday Features and more for free, and we can donate print copies of “The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!” to Seniors, Libraries, Classrooms, and individuals who may not otherwise be able to afford or get a copy.

Patrons help my friend Little Red Bear and me continue this as a Non-Monetized site free of distracting and inappropriate advertisements, dedicated solely to entertainment and educational purposes; sharing messages of Happiness, Inspiration, Positivity, Kindness, Compassion, Environmental Awareness, and Conservation with everyone.

Will You Help Us Make A Positive Impact In The World?

We invite you to join us today!

“Halloween shadows played upon the walls of the houses. In the sky the Halloween moon raced in and out of the clouds. The Halloween wind was blowing, not a blasting of wind but a right-sized swelling, falling, and gushing of wind. It was a lovely and exciting night, exactly the kind of night Halloween should be.” — Eleanor Estes, (“The Witch Family”)
Please share this post with family and friends!
Your Likes, Shares, and Comments greatly expand our reach and encourage new visitors to our pages.
Because together, we can do so much! 
Thank You for visiting! Best Wishes and God Bless! — Jim (and Red!)

 

 

 

Take A Walk To A Park for Healthy Exercise & Fun!

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Happy National Walk To A Park Day!

When was the last time you visited one of your local neighborhood parks? National Walk to a Park Day, celebrated on October 10th each year, encourages us all to visit a local park. Swing on a swing set. Play with children. Throw a Frisbee around. Kick a ball.

Or, simply take a walk thru the park and enjoy the changing Autumn leaves, feeling the refreshing cooler air on your face after a long, hot summer.

For those living in cities who may not have a large yard, local public parks serve as a community’s backyard, and offer the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and visit with family, friends, and neighbors. A place to play, exercise (even if merely a short walk), and visit with Mother Nature for a spell.

I remember countless trips to parks as both a youngster, and then taking my own children to have a picnic, play on the playgrounds, fly kites, play tennis and handball, toss footballs, kick soccer balls around, and play catch and Indian Ball. And hours and hours of chasing Frisbees.

Yet sadly, according to statistics, about 100 million people, including 28 million kids, do not have access to a local, quality park within a 10-minute walk from home.

I encourage to take a walk to a park today. Or this coming weekend. And if too far to walk — to drive, roller skate, ride a bicycle, hitch a pony ride, or to get there somehow to enjoy time in a green space, get some fresh, and visit with nature. You will feel better for it, 99 3/4% guaranteed. Hope to see you there!

“Thank You!” for visiting with us today! We are grateful for you taking a few moments of your day to share with us here. Because you are why we do this.

And we are grateful to have local parks to visit, walk around, and enjoy the outdoors, always being thankful for the little things in life.

Please join us again next Monday, when we continue to explore Living A Life Of Gratitude, this time the Physical Benefits of living a life of thankfulness as we approach the Thanksgiving Holiday. Register today to be notified of every new post and feature in the future!

Best Wishes & Blessings! — Jim (and Red!) 🤠 🐻 🍂 🍁 🍂 🧡

In case you missed it, I invite you to check out Parts 1and 2 in my new Monday Morning series about Living A Life of Gratitude and Living A Life Of Gratitude — Mental Health Benefits leading up to the Thanksgiving Holiday. And “Happy October! Welcome Glorious Autumn!”

(Featured image credit — “Small Town Lane, Watercolor,” created via Bing Image Creator AI)

If you enjoyed this piece, you may also like — “Mitakuye Oyasin — We Are All Related,” and “Wishing You Deep Peace, Love, Happiness, and Joy; And A Very Good Day!” 

We welcome recent visitors! Please check out “Welcome To My Writing Pages!” and “About the Blog, Jim, & Little Red Bear” to find out what we are all about. Sign up today to follow and receive notifications for every new post and feature!

In a world where we can be anything, please choose to be kind!

When not out fishing or gathering honey, Little Red Bear and Cinnamon Charlie love to color in their spare time!

If you have little ones around or simply enjoy coloring yourself for relaxation and fun, be sure to check out “Little Red Bear’s “Happy Autumn Season!” Coloring Pages.”

Download and color as many as you like, free of charge, because that’s just how we roll here!

Happy Coloring!

“A walk in nature walks the soul back home.” — Mary Davis

“A park is a love letter from the city to its residents.” — Unknown

Meet Little Red Bear & His Friends — “Once Upon A Time In A Very Special Woods”

Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages! 
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
Tap Here For A Free Preview!

Think Globally — Act Locally!

Tomorrow Begins With YOU Today!

There Is No “Planet B.”

This is a purposefully non-monetized, ad-free site to offer the most enjoyable reading and viewing experience for everyone. We freely share all content and do not generate any income to offset the costs of maintaining and operating the site.

If you enjoy your visits and time with us, I invite you to Join our Patron Community today. Together, we can do so much!

With the help of patrons, we offer Seasonal Coloring Pages, Writing and Poetry Selections, Holiday Features and more for free, and we can donate print copies of “The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!” to Seniors, Libraries, Classrooms, and individuals who may not otherwise be able to afford or get a copy.

Patrons help my friend Little Red Bear and me continue this as a Non-Monetized site free of distracting and inappropriate advertisements, dedicated solely to entertainment and educational purposes; sharing messages of Happiness, Inspiration, Positivity, Kindness, Compassion, Environmental Awareness, and Conservation with everyone.

Will You Help Us Make A Positive Impact In The World?

We invite you to join us today!

“I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness—it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” — Brene Brown
Please share this post with family and friends!
Your Likes, Shares, and Comments greatly expand our reach and encourage new visitors to our pages.
Because together, we can do so much! 
Thank You for visiting! Best Wishes and God Bless! — Jim (and Red!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Living A Life Of Gratitude — Thankful for the Early Years (Part 5 of a Series)

/ jrmilson / Leave a comment

Happy Autumn Days!

It is a gorgeous Autumn day as I sit here to write this morning. Leaves on my neighbor’s ash tree turned a bright shade of yellow this week. In bright sunlight this morning, the yellow leaves are sparkling like jewels as they twist, turn, and spiral thru the air on brisk Autumn breezes.

And I am feeling grateful for not only the beautiful display of leaves but also for another spectacular Autumn day.

From my open window, I can hear a bird whose call I do not recognize, signaling migration is well underway. At this time of year, he may be the rear guard for his flock. Or perhaps simply late. I hope he catches up.

When not busy chasing acorns, squirrels are busy raiding my neighbor’s bird feeder for sunflower seeds. The delightful aroma of baking pumpkin muffins wafts down the hallway from another neighbor’s kitchen.

The smells, sights, and sounds of Autumn, my most favorite time of year. And I am grateful. All of them small, insignificant things, perhaps. But when you are mindful and consciously aware of the little blessings and living a life of gratitude, your awareness and world are open to so much more.

And do you know what else I am grateful for?

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