April Is National Poetry Month — It’s Dime Rhyme Time!

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April is National Poetry Month!  Organized by the Academy of American Poets, it is about increasing both awareness and appreciation of poetry.

National Poetry Month is described as the largest literary celebration in the world, with tens of millions of readers, students, teachers, librarians, booksellers, publishers, bloggers, and poets acknowledging poetry’s important place in our culture and lives.  If you would like more information, visit the National Poetry Month Site.

Accordingly, Little Red Bear and I thought that we should step up and do our part to help foster awareness and appreciation of poetry.  Such as it is here, of course.

Growing up years ago on the outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri, during breakfast every morning the kitchen radio was tuned in to the dominant, powerhouse AM radio station in the city at that time — “KMOX – the Voice of St. Louis”, with a mostly news, weather, sports and all-talk format. The morning radio show, “Total Information A.M.”,  featured a pair of men who were stellar in their jobs and radio institutions throughout the area, Rex Davis and Bob Hardy, both still remembered and well-known, though now passed.

One of their ongoing features was a fun and highly popular little segment in which they invited listeners to send in their own original short poetry works to be read live on the air by them each morning.  They in turn sent the chosen submitter back a Thank You note on KMOX stationery which read – “From listeners like you, we both take heart. Here’s our dime and our thanks, for doing your part.”

An accompanying dime was taped to the note.  The daily radio segment was, of course, called — “Dime Rhymes.”

There are some longer poems for reading pleasure here on my writing blog, but I frequently come up with much shorter little verses and wonder what to do with them.   Then the answer came to me — set up a “Dime Rhymes” page in honor of these gentlemen who brought us so much entertainment on the radio years ago.  A page simply for fun, shorter and quick little verses to build up over time.  And perhaps to include some guest contributors along the way, as well.

So under the heading of “Short Works & Free Reads” at the top of the page, you will now find in the drop-down menu a heading entitled “Dime Rhymes.”  Free for personal enjoyment and reading pleasure, as are all things here. I have added a few poems to get it started, and here is a link to help you find it the first time — Dime Rhymes.  Hope you enjoy!

Thanks as always for visiting!  And if you feel moved to create a Dime Rhyme yourself, please send it in.  Who knows?  Little Red Bear might even send you back a dime.* — Jim  (and Red!)

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*Legal Stuff– Submission of a Dime Rhyme constitutes permission and rights to share on the blog. The dime remuneration is not guaranteed or promised, and entirely dependent upon the financial status of the blog holder at any given moment, which is never really that good, in forma pauperis.  All submissions must reflect the “G” rated status of the blog, no exceptions.  Not that it matters because it wouldn’t be selected anyway.  All questions or concerns to be addressed to our esteemed attorney, Bob the Badger, Esq., handwritten in triplicate.  Submission does not guarantee selection or use.  Yada, yada, yada, actori incumbit probatio, animus contrahendi, not excluding casus fortuitis, assuming compos mentis of submitter, all offers voided by malum prohibitum not excluding malum in se , in perpetuity and nonsense forevermore.

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Chapter Two of The Ozarks Ostrich Crisis: “Day 2 — Birds On Strike!”

/ jrmilson / 6 Comments

Note to Readers– This is Chapter Two of a continuing Weekly Serial Story freely shared only here for followers of my Writing Blog.  If you missed the beginning, you can Catch Up Here.

As you may recall, three Ostriches who appeared seemingly out of nowhere while seeking story roles in the Little Red Bear stories yesterday, became very upset and offended over some unintentional comments made by Little Red Bear about their being flightless.

During the interview to discuss their inclusion in one or more of the upcoming “The Adventures of Little Red Bear” stories and the roles they might play, things became rather heated between Little Red Bear and the ostriches. One word led to another and they threatened to walk out. Which they ultimately did.

But not before several more heated words were exchanged by both sides. Whispered comments I ruefully made to Little Red Bear about ‘sashaying’ and ‘strutting like peacocks’ were overheard as they went back down the path, which only seemed to anger them more.

Leaving the cabin, one of the ostriches had motioned towards a little teddy bear sign which I have hanging on the wall of the cabin, with the message “Don’t Feed the Bears, They’re Stuffed!”

The ostrich laughed and then mockingly implied the sign was referring to Little Red Bear because he was stuffed chockablock full with “Honey Fat” and, well—you can only imagine how that was received by Red.

When they departed and had ventured out of sight around the bend, I figured that would pretty much be the last of it, no ostriches in the stories. We had not been planning to add ostriches anyway. They are the ones who approached us to be in the stories.

To be honest, Little Red Bear and I have over forty Story Character job applications from other bird species wanting to be included, with more coming in daily, what with it being Spring now and the bluebirds, barn swallows, goldfinches, wrens and others arriving back from winter migrations. So, if the ostriches chose not to take part – so be it – and figured that was the end of it – “So long, thanks for coming.”

Heading downstairs to make breakfast this morning, the ostriches were nowhere in mind, having assumed that they would have simply returned to wherever it was they had come from.

I wished a “Good morning!” to Little Red Bear, already seated at the table, but with his head supported on his paws and not looking his normally cheerful self. The only reply I received in return was more of a grumble – “Grruummpphh.”

“What’s up with you this morning, Red?”

“Oh, you’ll see when you step outside.”

As I had been awoken by thunder rolling thru Hopper’s Holler below and it being an overcast, gloomy and rainy morning, I assumed Red’s rather glum response was more of a reflection of the weather conditions than anything else. We had planned an outdoor writing activity for the day, you see.

As every morning, I routinely placed the tea kettle on the stove to heat for breakfast tea, and stepped outside onto the front porch for my morning regimen of deep breathing exercises in the fresh morning air while the water heated to boiling.

And then, there they were – the three ostriches – picketing in front of the cabin – in the rain!

As it turns out, ostriches are not only somewhat difficult to deal with, but also resolutely single-minded in purpose. Angered, doubly so.

The largest ostrich, and most vocal in the meetings, was carrying a large sign, white with bold red letters which read – “ON STRIKE – UNFAIR TO FLIGHTLESS AVIANS!”

The second was carrying another sign which read – “FLY OR NOT – OSTRICHES ARE BIRDS, TOO!”  He was jauntily bouncing the sign up and down as he paced back and forth in line with the others across the yard.

The third, smallest of the three, was not toting a sign, but instead wearing an old-fashioned placard around his neck which on the front read – “LITTLE RED BEAR IS FAT AND SMELLS BAD!” – and when he turned around, on the back – “LITTLE RED BEAR’S MOTHER WAS AN UGLY ROOSTER!”

Now folks, I must admit, we can’t really figure that last one out either. Unless the ostriches got confused about hens and roosters, trying to imply that Little Red Bear is part bird, but that’s absurd.

Glancing around, there were “Don’t Feed the Bear” posters plastered everywhere – on the trees, fence posts and all over the front porch and walls of the cabin.

“Hey, y’all!” I called out, “I’m  fixin’ to put breakfast on. Why don’t y’all come on inside, out of the rain, get something to eat, and we’ll all sit down and try to talk this thing through?”

The only response came from the largest ostrich, again with that same (what I assume to be) obscene wing gesture he threw back at me yesterday. “Okay, then,” I muttered to myself.  “Have it your way.”

Coming back inside the cabin, I now understood why Little Red Bear was rather crestfallen, still sitting dispirited at the table, head in paws.

“Well, it’s raining anyway, Red,” I began, seeking to cheer him up. “Let’s just do our writing work inside today. If we don’t pay the ostriches any attention, I’m sure they will soon get bored and tired of just walking around in the rain, and then go on about their way. Whattaya say? Let’s just ignore them. ‘Don’t feed the trolls’, as they say.”

We prepared breakfast, which we (not being trolls) ate quietly at the table with no disruption. Shortly after, with a nice, quick little breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes, blueberry muffins, oatmeal, grits, cornbread, hashbrowns, bananas, half a dozen biscuits with honey, an orange, and two cups of English Breakfast Tea now inside him, Little Red Bear had perked up considerably and we were working on the “Sir Snapsalot” story together, for Red’s first story collection.

Outside, the soft morning rain continued, with the relaxing pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat drips off the porch roof splashing lightly onto the ground in front. On the hill behind the cabin, a song sparrow was singing, despite the light rain, and another distant thunder murmured softly over the holler. All in all, a beautiful spring morning for work and writing.

Then things took a turn. We heard it. There was no point at all in pretending that we hadn’t.

Little Red Bear and I both stopped working and simply looked at each other, each hoping the other might be able to possibly deny what we had so clearly and undeniably heard with our own ears, or at least have something intelligent to offer about it. Dumbfounded, we simply listened.

From outside and thru the half-open window, we could hear the ostriches begin chanting in unison at the top of their voices –

Boycott Bear Stories!

No Ostriches, No Stories!

What do we want? Ostriches!

When do we want them? Now!

“Really?” I said out loud. “They haven’t left yet?”

Boycott Bear Stories!

No Ostriches, No Stories!

What do we want? Ostriches!

When do we want them? Now!

“What did we do to deserve this?” Little Red Bear rhetorically asked of anyone who might respond, head tilted back and looking forlornly up at the ceiling. No one answered back of course, as we had requested the resident ghosts to relocate a few months before when it became apparent that they had begun keeping very different sleeping schedules than ours.

“I suppose maybe you should have simply apologized for your ‘flightless’ comment yesterday when they asked for it,” I finally responded, somehow feeling compelled to say something while pointing out the obvious. “Any time that we have a choice of being right or being kind, always choose kind. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But they didn’t ask,” Little Red Bear corrected. “They demanded. Neither you or me respond well to orders and demands. And you know that. That’s one thing you and I have in common – a wild, unfettered, independent spirit.”

“Yeah Red, I do know that. And it does sound better when you put it that way. As opposed to simply being prideful and stubborn. But unfortunately, the ostriches didn’t know about our unbridled independent natures.”

Who are we? Just one guess!

Ostriches refusing to be oppressed!

Ostriches live with lions and cheetahs.

So ain’t no way you’re gonna beat us!

“Wanna bet?” Little Red Bear snorted in reply, glancing menacingly towards the window.

I simply looked at him and shook my head. They had merely been unintentional off-paw, off-hand comments, after all. Who could know anyone would be so easily and irreparably offended simply by stating an obvious fact – ostriches are flightless.

Clearly, the ostriches do not embrace the concept of a ‘measured response’.

Who’s got the power? We got the power!

What kind of power? Ostrich power!

What do we want? Ostriches!

When do we want them? Now!

I began to think, and correctly so truth be told, that this could all get pretty old, pretty quick. Which it did.

“What are we going to do, Jim?” Little Red Bear inquired after several more minutes of chanting. “Clearly your strategy of ignoring them and hoping they go away didn’t work. If anything, they’re getting louder. So, what now?”

“Hope they get hoarse from chanting and yelling – and then go away?” I responded with a half-bemused chuckle, but actually having no idea of what to do.

1-2-3-4 – We ain’t gonna take it no more!

5-6-7-8 – We’re gonna set these story folks straight!

The calming pitta-pat of the rain between chants became less and less comforting, calling to mind more of a Chinese water torture, ticking off the seconds until the next verbal barrage from the front yard blasted our ears.

Hey, hey! – Ho, ho! This fat bear has got to go!

Hey, hey! – Ho, ho! That old writer is really slow!

“Oh, listen, Jim. They’ve included you now, too,” Little Red Bear said rather happily, appearing to perk up again at the new development.

Hey, hey! – Ho, ho! This fat bear has got to go!

Hey, hey! – Ho, ho! That old man is really slow!

Still shaking my head in bewilderment and confusion as to how we ever arrived at such a state, I could only and simply reply – “How nice. It’s good to be remembered, I suppose.”

It’s hot!  It’s hot!  It’s very, very hot out here.

It’s Little Red Bear’s hot air, polluting the atmosphere!

Global warming and pollution’s no joke, it’s real.

This bear’s bad breath lacks any civilized appeal.

“Well now,” I observed. “The breath comment aside, that one is both topical and catchy.”

“Ummpph!” Little Red Bear grunted.

Little Red Bear is fat, stupid and rude.

And we don’t like his attitude!

What’d you say? They didn’t hear.

Shout it LOUDER, there’s nothing to fear!

Little Red Bear is fat, stupid and rude.

And we don’t like his attitude!

Little Red Bear pushed back from the table and began to rise.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere in particular, just out to strangle those guys! Be back in a couple minutes.”

“Red, you may outweigh one of them, but you don’t outweigh all three of them.”

“You ain’t comin’ along to help?”

“Sticks and stones, Red,” I replied. “Don’t listen to them. We must practice restraint. Ignore them. Don’t let them get to you. They’re merely making stuff up and saying things, throwing anything they can think of against the wall to see what sticks.”

Little Red Bear sighed, shoulders slumped, and returned to his seat at the table.

“Well, it’s easy for you to say – ‘Don’t pay them no nevermind’. They got the whole place covered in ‘Don’t Feed the Bear’ posters. Looks like they got those to stick up pretty well on the walls. And what’s up with that? I’ve been feeding myself as long as I can remember. I don’t need anyone to feed me!”

“It’s not about ‘feeding’ you. They want to cut off your food supply and starve you to death.  A blockade of sorts.”

“Well,  – that’s not nice. What’d I ever do to them?”

“Flightless, rude comments.  Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, it’s still not a good enough reason to starve somebody to death!”

Before I could respond to Red’s concerns again, the ostriches all began to sing. Vigorously. They echoed each phrase as they marched in line one behind the other in mock military fashion, waving picket signs thru the air like battle flags.

I don’t know but I’ve been told . . . .

(I don’t know but I’ve been told.)

That Little Red Bear writer is really old . . . .

(That Little Red Bear writer is really old.) 

I don’t know but it’s been said . . . .

(I don’t know but it’s been said.)

Old writers’ butts are made of lead . . . .

(Old writers’ butts are made of lead.)

Instinctively, I then found myself pushing away from the table to head outside and grab hold of a neck.  Or three.

“Your turn to sit back down now, Jim,” Little Red Bear advised, now doubled over laughing and mind clearly off the ‘Don’t Feed’ posters. “Ha, ha, ha! You don’t even outweigh the littlest one.”

And he kept laughing. “They got you good with that one! Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Haw, haw, haw!”

Little Red Bear pounded on the table in great delight, guffawing and yucking it up. Apparently laughing at another’s misery is great stress relief for a bear.

“Yeah, very funny,” I muttered, pulling my chair back beneath me.

“I feel a little better now, not the only one being tormented,” Little Red Bear managed to say, between laughs.

“Happy to help.”

What Little Red Bear knew and had picked up on, was that without knowing it the ostriches had actually hit pretty close to the mark, just citing the wrong metal. But then, in their defense, stainless steel and titanium are a lot harder to rhyme than lead, I suppose.

The ostriches continued their endless chanting, with both volume and vitriol seeming to swell as the day wore on.

Boycott Bear Stories!

No Ostriches, No Stories!

Boycott Bear Stories!

No Ostriches, No Stories!

We are left wondering and not knowing where this whole ostrich confrontation may be headed now, but with increasing concern, as they are beginning to draw the attention of local wildlife who have been overwhelmingly supportive of Little Red Bear’s adventures to this point.

Crowds are gathering, assembling in what appear to be small discussion groups off to the sides. Discontent, even unfounded, has a way of spreading like an uncontrolled virus at times, having a way of triggering dormant and unrelated emotions in others over long-ago slights, real or imagined. We certainly do not need a story character walkout or to lose support in the local community.

Hey, hey, ho!  That smelly bear has got to go!

Hey, hey, ho!  That flightless comment was really low!

Hey, hey, ho!  Come join us picketing to and fro!

Hey, hey, ho!  That writer guy shouldn’t write no mo’!

I now find myself dealing with a group of angry ostriches and an ever-growing crowd outside, and an insulted and agitated bear inside. And it now appears that I myself have become a target for their taunts and barbs.

Though unfamiliar with ostriches per se, these birds are displaying all the obstinacy and stubbornness of Missouri Mules, with whom we are fairly acquainted here. And that’s not exactly a comforting thought, given the independent resolve and strong-mindedness of Little Red Bear on the other side.

I am hoping we are well supplied with aspirin and antacid, because this distressing turn of events appears to have the makings of both an onslaught and a siege.

Ostriches are birds and have our rights.

We’re big and strong and willing to fights!

Good grief. “Willing to fights?” And they want me to stop writing?

Off for aspirins. Hurry nightfall. Maybe these ostriches will all wake up hoarse in the morning and go away.

Or not . . . . . . . .

To be continued . . . . . . . .

Thanks as always for visiting with us!  Be sure to check in next week as events continue to unfold in the “Ozarks Ostrich Crisis”, a continuing weekly serialized free story available only here on the Writing Blog.  See ya then!  — Jim  (and Red!)

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“The Adventures of Little Red Bear” Short Stories on Amazon.
Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages and Fitness Levels!
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
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Chapter One of The Ozarks Ostrich Crisis: “Day 1 — How It All Began”

/ jrmilson / 4 Comments

Serialized stories have been popular in literature for a long time, going all the way back to the 17th century.  American writers publishing in serial form over the years include Henry James, Harriet Beecher Stowe and Herman Melville. One of the most famous radio program serials was “Little Orphan Annie.”  So, Little Red Bear and I thought it might be fun to bring back the weekly serial story.

Welcome to the first installment of a new weekly serial story to be published only here on the writing blog every Saturday morning over the next several weeks — “The Ozarks Ostrich Crisis.”  This is a story which first appeared in daily serial form on Facebook a few years ago, which we have dusted off, updated for developments in Little Red Bear Land over the years, and are recirculating just for fun.  This serialized story was received so well that it was the actual catalyst for starting this blog in order to share more creative writing and works.

We hope you enjoy and follow along every week as the story evolves.  Sharing with friends and family is not only very much appreciated, but strongly encouraged.  It’s always simply about the fun.

So then, here we go . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Note to Readers–  In the early months of spring 2014, Little Red Bear and I had been interviewing applicants for prospective characters in Red’s upcoming first collection of short stories — “The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!”, due for release in the coming months.  Interviews, meetings and writing sessions had been proceeding smoothly and on schedule without incident. 

That all changed upon the arrival of three ostriches who expressed interest in being in the stories, despite the adventures taking place in the Ozarks Mountain Country of Missouri, not on the savannas of Africa. Where the ostriches came from, why they showed up on our front porch that spring morning, how they even heard about our stories underway — nobody knows.  What ensued altered lives and the landscape of the backwoods forever.

As most folk are aware, Ostriches are not native to the Ozarks, but as Little Red Bear and I always try to  keep an open mind for new ideas and suggestions, we decided to meet with them to discuss possible story roles.  But having neither included them in any story character recruiting lists nor having done any research in advance, we were admittedly taken a bit off guard and unprepared for their arrival.  And determination.  Any ground-dwelling bird that exists on the open African plains alongside  powerful lions, hyenas and speedy cheetahs, should not be underestimated or taken for granted.  Turns out, ostriches are born into a world of conflict, do not shy away from it and may even regard it as sport.  Lessons learned.

What follows is taken from the documented, blow-by-blow diary account of the events and developments that transpired over the following days.  The story you are about to read is true, to the best of our recollection, mostly. Only some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.   

DAY 1– “And So It Begins”

If there were any readers hoping for an Ostrich to make an appearance in the upcoming “The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!” stories, it’s not looking good after what transpired today.

The stories about Little Red Bear and his friends are generally based in the Ozarks Mountain Country of Missouri — mountains, farms, old mines, beautiful streams, forests, hollers, wildflower meadows, and the like. As such, the stories feature flora and fauna native to the region, as well as some interesting “imports” just for fun.  And education.

Albeit surprised by the arrival of three ostriches intent on interviewing for story character roles, Little Red Bear and I thought it might be nice to go ahead and add them into the stories even though writing work on Red’s adventures was already well underway. Obviously not native to the area but unusual and interesting birds nonetheless, we felt both children and older readers might enjoy having ostriches included in the adventures while possibly learning something new about them along the way perhaps.

And must admit, Little Red Bear and I were both rather charmed and taken in by the happy-go-lucky and out-going natures expressed in the headshot photos they submitted with their Story Character job applications.  Their motivation to appear in the stories seemed genuine, and it’s always easier and more pleasant to work with friendly folk.

To our mutual bewilderment and disappointment, it turned out ostriches may not be the easiest creatures to deal with, after all. During the interview, Little Red Bear made an off-hand (off-paw?) comment about never having seen a flightless bird before, and  innocently asked — “Why do you fellas have wings at all if you don’t know how to use them?”

Apparently, ostriches can be rather sensitive critters, at least about the non-flying thing anyway, and well — let’s just say the question was never answered directly, or at least we couldn’t hear if it was over all the loud clucking and ‘attitude’ that immediately followed.

As so often goes with misunderstandings, one thing led to another and before we knew it the ostriches threatened to walk out if Little Red Bear didn’t apologize for his thoughtless and cruel “flightless” comment.  That was our opportunity — our ‘out’ — if you will.  I can see that clearly now.

But some opportunities are very short-lived, and that one quickly slipped away when Little Red Bear replied that “Walk out” was the only thing they could do since ostriches apparently couldn’t fly, and that even tiny mosquitoes and gnats can fly, and bugs don’t seem smart at all getting trapped on flypaper all the time as they do so where does that rank ostriches on the Smarts Scale if even stupid bugs are able to fly, and he’d never known Mother Nature to be wrong about anything before so it must be something about them if they had wings and didn’t use them and what a creative waste that was, and, and  . . . . . . .

Let’s just say that Little Red Bear carried on a bit more as he and the ostriches thrust and parried insults back and forth across the table, and that about sealed it.  Whatever peace which we had enjoyed in the early morning was shot to . . . . , well — had been laid waste by noon.

Out the door and down the front porch steps the ostriches all went, one following another in line.  Walking — of course.  Rather briskly.  I could say that they “stormed” out, but that would be an exaggeration and hard to apply that term to giant, 9 feet tall birds weighing over 300 pounds, strutting out the door and down the path with white poofy tail and wingtip feathers flickering, fluttering, riffling, and whiffling in the morning’s spring breeze. Sashayed, perhaps.

One could conceivably and more correctly say their exit was closer to a sashaying out than a storming out.  There is a reason that the phrase “strutting like a peacock” is generally not a complimentary term, and in retrospect probably should have kept those thoughts to myself.

As it turned out, we learned that in addition to being hypersensitive and having excellent eyesight, ostriches also have excellent hearing, and having overheard me whisper those “sashay” and “strutting peacock” comments to Little Red Bear, it just seemed to incite them more.  Apparently, they may not be on the best of terms with peacocks either, jealous because peacocks are one of the largest flying bird species, a group that of course does not include ostriches.

I’m fairly certain the peacock comment was not received well, because that wing gesture was clearly intended to mean something other than friendly.  It was the body language of it.  I didn’t need to be able to speak ‘Ostrich’ to understand that.  Some symbols and gestures may be universal, it seems.

The picture taken following the morning’s meeting, by Rusty the Fairydiddle (the red squirrel reporter for the local “Squirrelly World” newspaper)  pretty much sums it up.

We were not seeking to include any ostriches in Little Red Bear’s stories to begin with, but nevertheless, I will try to smooth things over because we never like to see anyone go away mad, it’s just not in Red’s or my nature. And it’s pretty clear — they’re not happy.  And that there may be an understatement, unfortunately.

But, really.  What can they do that would cause any problems for Little Red Bear and I finishing his stories on time anyway?  They’re simply three strange birds in a foreign land, after all.

Three . . . . . giant . . . . . angry . . . . . very strange . . . . . birds.

To be continued . . . . . . . .

Thanks as always for visiting with us!  Be sure to check in next week as events continue to unfold in the “Ozarks Ostrich Crisis”, a continuing serialized free story available only here on the Writing Blog.  See ya then!  — Jim  (and Red!)

Family Times — Together Times — The Best Times!

Children + Nature + Outdoors = Happy, Healthy Balanced Kids

“The Adventures of Little Red Bear” Short Stories on Amazon.
Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages and Fitness Levels!
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
Tap Here For A Free Preview!

~ Think Globally — Act Locally ~

Please Don’t Pull The Dandelions — They’re Nature’s Gift!

/ jrmilson / 3 Comments

Oh my gosh!  It’s early Spring and here come the dandelions all over the yard.  What to do?!?

Answer — absolutely nothing.  Relax, have an iced tea, and simply leave them be. We really dig dandelions here, but perhaps not in the way some may imagine.

My father, noted for his dandelions obsession, would have me busy every available free moment years ago it seemed, dandelion puller in hand, sent out to pull and dispatch the lowly yellow flowers out of our burgeoning green lawn.

“Now, get down deep and pull ’em up by the roots or they’ll surely come back on us, son!”

My idea of true technological progress was when my father came home one day with a long-handled dandelion puller newly purchased from the hardware store, one I didn’t have to bend over all day with or crawl around the yard on hands and knees.  Yep, modern science had come a long way. I could pull ’em standing up!

In the suburban sprawl era of the early ’60s with new subdivisions sprouting up everywhere, my father could and did spend hours talking with other men in the neighborhood about — Grass.

Seriously weighing the merits of one variety of grass versus another and how best to care for their lawns.

Those out there on the very cutting edge of technology were experimenting with the new Zoysia Grass just becoming available at the time, and “plugging” their lawns with it.  Anybody in their right mind seeded. Everybody knew that.  They were “plugging!”

“Poor Troutman’s lost his mind this year with that Zoysia grass.”

“Gonna have an ugly mess on his hands for sure!”

“That Zoysia stuff turns brown like straw all winter.  A real fire hazard, that!  He’ll be sorry.”

“Well, he’s a young college guy and doesn’t know anything.  He’ll learn.  Ya just can’t beat good ol’ Kentucky Blue Grass.”

“Nah, that stuff burns up in the summer heat.  I’ll stick with my Fescue.”

And on and on it went. Heady stuff, those evening, after-dinner grass meetings on the sidewalk.  We won’t even go into Crabgrass debates.  And what in the world to do about that guy on the corner and his dandelion infested yard, blowing seeds all over the neighborhood?

“Who does Baggett think he is, after all, a Dandelion Farmer? Look at his mess down there! Why doesn’t he get out and pull those dad-gummed weeds?!?”

The beauty of one’s lawn was definitely a status symbol in the subdivision back then, as dandelions in your yard certainly meant that you would be looked down upon by all of the folk meticulously fertilizing, treating, and clipping perfectly manicured lawns, proudly pushing their new, bright green Scotts’ spreaders in front of them while whistling a happy tune, dandelion digger tucked into their belt or back pocket.  And yes, there was a distinction.  Farmers ‘mowed’ down weeds.  Lawn aficionados ‘clipped’.

Folks with dandelions in their yards were judged to be lazy, uncaring, and downright disrespectful because soon those wicked seed puffs would be blowing thru the air on spring breezes and re-infesting all of the honorable and upstanding folks’ yards.

Such was life in the suburbs during the time of manicured lawns and new homeowners aspiring to be featured on the cover of ‘Better Homes & Gardens’ magazine.

But, let’s hold on just a bit and fast forward several decades.

Honeybees, critical to the world’s food supply, have been decimated in recent years from an assortment of maladies —  colony collapse disorder (CCD), global warming, selective industrial crop plantings, insecticide and herbicide poisoning, the uprooting and destruction of native plant species, and so much more.  They sorely need our assistance for the benefit of the planet, and it just so happens that leaving those dandelions in your yard alone for a while is one of the very best things that you can do to help them in early Spring.

When honeybees and other pollinators first emerge in the very first warm days of early Spring, like bears coming out from their dens after a long Winter and having depleted their honey stores which kept them going thru the Winter months, they are hungry and in need of nutrition right away. And just as Mother Nature intended, those bright yellow dandelion flowers in your yard are one of the very first emerging and available food sources for them every year.

Each dandelion flower is composed of up to a hundred individual florets, each one packed with needed nectar and pollen before later emerging flowers and plants bloom and are available.  Dandelions are one of the earliest and best food sources for bees and pollinators each Spring.  They count on dandelions for survival.

Not only honeybees feast on the flowers but also bumblebees, hoverflies, beetles, and butterflies.  Later, goldfinches, house sparrows, and others eat the seeds while raising babies in the nests.

For us, young dandelion leaves make a fine addition to spring salads and are loaded with vitamins and antioxidants, and the flowers (leaving some for the honeybees and wildlife) have been made into Dandelion Wine for ages.  Just be sure the plants have not been treated with chemicals or lawn fertilizers for food safety.

So, if it is necessary to mow the grass, please consider raising the height of the cutting blades to safely pass over the dandelion flowers for the first month or so. It makes mowing thick spring grass easier, anyway. And then sit back with your iced tea on the porch to enjoy the parade of honeybees, butterflies, and other visitors to the dandelion flowers in your yard, confident that you are helping both them and the environment.

And if a well-intentioned neighbor makes a comment, just bring them up to speed about why it is so important to simply leave the dandelions be in early springtime, for the sake of the honeybees and pollinators. And us.

Cross-pollination helps at least a third of the world’s food crops and 90% of wild plants to survive.  Without bees to pollinate and spread seeds, many plants, including major food crops that we ourselves depend upon for survival, would die off.  And that is why early spring dandelions are so important.

Some have stated that if honeybees disappeared from the Earth, humans would inevitably follow four years later due to lack of food supplies. If letting the dandelions grow in early springtime helps the bees survive and keeps the grocery shelves stocked, we are all for that.

Besides, I haven’t met the Mother yet who doesn’t delight in a freshly-picked dandelion bouquet from her four-year-old in the Spring.

And, if the dandelions are all mowed down, pulled out, and tossed away — how could we ever hope to make a wish?

Speaking of dandelion bouquets and making wishes, if you have small children or grandchildren, check out the delightful little children’s book “Why Dandelions Grow” by Nita Marie Clark available on Amazon.

Told in verse with colorful illustrations, the book tells about how dandelions came to be (they seemed to be an afterthought, you know), and is very instructive for youngsters on both dandelions and bees, along with the importance of dandelions to the survival of bees in early springtime.

Little Red Bear and I always advocate teaching children about Nature and its importance, beginning at the earliest age, so they will become involved, learn to appreciate, and care about taking care of and preserving it for the future.  That’s the Little Red Bear way.

Working together we can do our best with Mother Nature to help the bees and other pollinators.

Thanks always for stopping by to visit with us, and please feel free to share this important message with family and friends!

My story friend, Little Red Bear, and I hope you will join us in the “Bee Friends” club and simply sitting back to watch the dandelions grow, confident in knowing that you are doing something positive and a ‘good thing’ for the environment and Mother Nature.  — Jim   (and Red!)

If you enjoyed this feature, you may also like → “Happy Hummer Season! Welcoming, Helping, and Attracting Hummingbirds In Your Neighborhood” 

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And gather honey all the day, From every opening flower!”

 – Isaac Watts, ‘Divine and Moral Songs for Children’ 

Counting to Ten — Watching Our Words and Actions

/ jrmilson / 4 Comments

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Everything we do in life — each action, spoken word, message, gesture, eye roll, sideways glance, or even thought, has the potential to do either great harm or great good for not only ourselves, but also for everyone around us.

Always true, it is amplified even more living in our modern social media world today, having the capability to influence the lives of people the world over.

So we need to be careful, take a moment to catch our breath, and reflect before speaking, acting or responding.  I was never aware that my Mother was quoting Thomas Jefferson when she frequently admonished “Count to ten” when I was upset or angry about something.

“When angry count ten before you speak. If very angry, one hundred.”

— Thomas Jefferson

It is especially important with young and sensitive children, whose self-images, attitudes and behaviors may be influenced, molded and shaped by our next words and actions.

Children who are always, always watching and listening — and learning by observing. It’s what they do.  It is a lot of responsibility, but no one ever said parenting or acting like a mature adult was going to be easy.

As the old carpenter saw goes — “measure twice, cut once.”   So we need to think twice, count to ten (or a hundred, or even one hundred, ninety-eight and three-quarters) and only then speak or act –  prudently, thoughtfully, compassionately.  Thereby serving as the very best influence and guide for children and everyone else in our lives.

Children learn from the examples we set, intended or not.  If we cannot control our own emotions and behaviors, how can we reasonably expect our children, or our neighbors, co-workers, employees, or anyone else to do so?

“… every single act we do has the potential of causing pain, and every single thing we do has consequences that echo way beyond what we can imagine. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act. It means we should act carefully. Everything matters.” ― Sylvia Boorstein

“Words are like toothpaste, Charlie.  Once out, there’s just no putting ’em back.  They can land with the gentleness of a feather or the force of a sledgehammer.  And the effects go out like ripples across a pond, for good or bad.” — Little Red Bear

Thanks always for dropping by, and we hope you enjoy your visits here.  Please act gently and kindly with not only fragile young minds and spirits, but with everyone; and be the reason someone smiles today! — Jim  (and Red!)

Family Times — Together Times — The Best Times!

 Peace  —  Compassion  —  Kindness  —  Love

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Sharing Pixar’s Rules of Storytelling

/ jrmilson / 4 Comments

With the Little Red Bear stories, I try very hard to straddle the fine line of being engaging and enjoyable for both younger and older audiences. The first goal of each story is to first be entertaining in order to hold interest and have fun, while also then being informative and educational along the way. As such, I am a great admirer of the consistently stellar work produced by the folks at Pixar Animation Studios, making entertainment consistently reaching both young and older age groups.

I happened across this image — “Pixar’s 22 Rules of Storytelling” — and thought it might be interesting and helpful to share with other writers. Those who know me also know that I am not generally a follower of rules, but as rules go, these are pretty good, and agree with many.

But let’s just go ahead and call them ‘Guidelines.’  That works and sits a little better with Little Red Bear and me.

 

Thanks always for stopping by to visit, and wishing you the very best of success in your future storytelling and writing! — Jim  (and Red!)

Family Times — Together Times — The Best Times!

 

Children + Nature + Outdoors = Happy, Healthy Balanced Kids

“The Adventures of Little Red Bear” Short Stories on Amazon.
Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages and Fitness Levels!
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
Tap Here For A Free Preview!