Warmth

A Small-Town Paper from Little Red Bear’s Honey Hill Country

Before we get too far along, there is one small thing I would like to settle right from the start.

These days, the moment someone hears the words “weekly” and “email,” a little voice pipes up:

Oh no… not JAN.

Just Another Newsletter.

You know the kind.
Crowded inbox. Loud subject lines. Endless self-promotion.
More noise than nourishment.

And if that is what The Hearth & Holler Gazette were going to be — I would not blame you one bit for steering clear.

But here is the thing —
This is not JAN. Not even close.

The Gazette is not a newsletter.
There will be no book pitches.
No launch announcements.
No character reveals dropped like bait.
No “Pre-order Now!” or “Don’t forget to buy!” reminders elbowing their way into your morning.

Instead, think of it this way —

The Hearth & Holler Gazette is a fictional small-town paper, delivered once a week on Saturday mornings, the way such things used to be — its pages set in the early years of the twentieth century, beginning in January of 1904.

A place for:

Short Stories and Sketches
Bits of Humour
Kind News
Happenings and Events from Little Red Bear’s Honey Hill Country
Old-fashioned Advertisements that Exist Only for the Smile
And the sort of Gentle Company you might enjoy with a cup of coffee while the house is still quiet

It exists for one reason only —

To offer a pause.
A smile.
A little warmth.

That is the why.
Everything else grows from that.

One might think of The Hearth & Holler Gazette as something closer to Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion —
without the live music, and without needing to go buy a radio.

A familiar voice.
A small town and folks you come to know.
Stories and observations that take their time, and trust you to do the same.

Or perhaps it brings to mind Charles Osgood’s quiet pieces — the kind that never shouted for attention, yet somehow always earned it.

If you ever found comfort in evenings spent with The Andy Griffith Show, The Waltons, or Little House on the Prairie, then you already understand the spirit at work here.

Not because those stories ignored the wider world —
but because, for a little while, they set a different table.

That is the neighbourhood the Gazette hopes to live in.

Continue reading →

As a kid growing up, to me my Mother was a suburban housewife, no different from all the other kids’ moms. Getting me off to school in the morning, keeping up the house while dad worked, having dinner ready when he got home. Doing the shopping and all the other household tasks of a 1950’s and 60’s housewife.

Only now, can I look back to realize and appreciate the rich Southern, Country and Native American background and traditions that my mother also brought to my upbringing. She had familiar and time-worn phrases that she would repeat over and over again which have stayed with me all my life. In retrospect, she was probably the wisest person I have ever known. One of her favorite admonitions was — “Never judge someone until you have walked a mile in their moccasins,” from the 1895 poem by Mary T. Lathrap.

Everyone has a story and a chapter they are living today in that story, and we are all part of the whole. What happens to one of us happens to all of us. The world needs more Empathy. So often we toss out the well-intentioned “Hey, how ya doin’?” without pause while we keep on walking. What if we stopped our own pursuits for a minute and meaningfully asked — “Really, how are you doing?” And cared.

The following is a wonderful, heartfelt video produced by the Cleveland Clinic which can be extended beyond the hospital walls to the world outside. When you look at someone, do you observe the outward appearance of the person in front of you, or do you feel and see the story of the individual?

“Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?” — Henry David Thoreau

Everyone is living their own story, facing their own struggles and battles, most of which we are not aware, and it gets lonely in the trenches sometimes. We need to take the time and make the effort to learn the stories to let someone know they are not alone.

Thanks as always for visiting! Help make the world a more caring and better place today. — Jim (and Red!)