MARBLES

Here is a pic of Marbles,
Sweet calico cat with one orange ear and one black, with one black paw and one orange and her soulful eyes. She gave pleasure with each pose, each purr, each blinking kitty kiss. She will be missed.

AN INCREDIBLY SAD DAY OF TEARS. We put down our 3 year old kitty Marbles this morning. She had a heart murmur from birth and it gradually took over. The vet made the decisiion for us when he said, "It's time. There's nothing we can do." She was the perfect cat and brought great joy to Bob and me every day she pattered up to be part of our family. Marbles spent the last week snuggling on our laps for great stretches, as if she knew the end was coming and wanted to fill it with love and affection. And I held her to the very end.

HERE I GO - CLIMBING THE PROMOTION WALL FOR POWERBALL 33.
Check out  http://askdavid.com/reviews/book/adventure/3894
Check out www.powerall33.com
And after you are swept away by the sales pitch, download or order, if you feel the urge. Thank you to all of you who have downloaded. It makes my writer's heart happy and I am grateful to readers. Someone asked me if I wrote for myself and I said, "If I did, that would be journaling. I love the connection between reader and writer. It makes the world a smaller place."

FREE DAYS TO DOWNLOAD POWERBALL 33. Today, Wed 1/23, Th 1/24, Fri 1/25.
Enjoy. Here's what some readers say: 

What would you do if you won the lottery? Connie Spittler poses that question for her young poet/handyman, Ed Frink. Although he likes the things he's got--his rusty old pickup, his cabin, his comfy old furniture--he is soon overwhelmed by long lost relations, designing women, a couple of Las Vegas mobsters, and his two best friends' extravagant ideas. POWERBALL 33 becomes a laugh out loud struggle to regain the comfort of a simple life in the face of his new wealth. A great story about what's really important in life.  F. Colburn, Nebraska

 A great read, filled with memorable characters! I loved the subplots. The ending was raucous romp just like in the movies. J. Mann, Nebraska

A tale well told. It is difficult to put this book down while Ed's adventure is still unfolding. L. T. Fitzgerald, Nebraska

Poking through the bottom of my sewing box, I found a Piper Cub iron on decal, bought 30 years ago. I'd intended to put it on a t-shirt for Bob as a surprise. The cub was the favorite plane of the 7 he's owned. The surprise was finding it after all these years. I showed it to Bob and he bought a t-shirt and ironed it on. The glue stuck, but I sewed around it for protection. Above is one of his shots of his wonderful flying machine, the Piper Cub.

 

And here's what the Piper Cub logo looks like.

FREE. FREE. FREE EBOOK DOWNLOAD coming soon through Amazon Kindle. I will offering 3 free days to download my novel POWERBALL 33. Wed 1/23, Th 1/24 and Fri 1/25. Hope you download and read, or heck, just download it. If you enjoy the book, I'd love to know. Connie

                                                        What Readers Are Saying

Powerball 33. A great book, well done and thought provoking for our current times with Powerball winnings. What would a person do with those funds? It really explored the "greed" part of personalities...and the wholesome goodness of others. Mary McCarthy, Florida

Powerball 33 - A delicious book that had me smiling, laughing and crying all at the same time! It’s a finely woven tapestry that would make a delightful film. Craftily woven characters names you chose add the most delightful tiny jokes at times, making the reader feel you are at our elbow saying, “Did you get that one?” Makes me want to climb in my car and take off to find Ed and...well, I don’t want to add more and spoil the ending! Bobbie Guillory, Arizona

What do a handyman, an excon, two Vegas thugs, a violent drunk, a purveyor of unusual instruments, an abused grocery store stocker, and a stripper have in common? A lottery ticket that jumbles all of their lives together in a fun, quirky with a capital Q tale. The author keeps you guessing as the various characters maneuver in and around Ed, the big lottery winner. A fun read! And made me think twice about winning the lottery ;-) Les Moore, California

What would you do if you won the lottery? Connie Spittler poses that question for her young handyman, Ed Frink, who has never in his life had an extra dime to spend. Although Ed kind of likes the things he's got--his rusty old pickup, his windowless cabin, his ratty old furniture--he is soon overwhelmed by long lost relations, designing women, a couple of Las Vegas mobsters, and his two best friends' extravagant ideas about where he should spend his money. A generous soul, Frink flounders through his first weeks as a multi-millionaire, allowing an entire cast of characters to bamboozle him. POWERBALL 33 becomes a laugh out loud struggle to regain that comfort in the face of his new wealth. A great story about what's really important in life. Faith Colburn, Nebraska

It was a great read, filled with memorable characters! I loved the subplots - can't believe who scammed Ed. The ending was raucous romp just like in the movies. J. Mann, Nebraska

A tale well told. It is difficult to put this book down while Ed's adventure is still unfolding. Powerball 33 I enjoyed it very much. Larry T. Fitzgerald, Nebraska

A fun read from start to finish, filled with great characters that are so easy to picture it reads like a movie in your head. Time well spent! D. Killips, Nebraska

Hope you download and read, or heck, just download it. If you enjoy the book, I'd love to know. Connie  

One of my husband Bob's bee photos.

http://www.facebook.com/deirdreimus
Meant to include the site that got me to think about honeybees.

HONEYBEES                

  A visit to Deirdre Imus' page talked about the value and problems of bees. Written a few years ago, here's my essay.

THE DESERT AFTERNOONS SLIP BY, LIKE GOLDEN HONEY DRIPPING FROM A SPOON. Drawn to the blue rapture of rosemary in bloom, the bees stay close. I hear their buzzing in the garden, then watch, as inflamed with pollen, they fly away to spin their energy into a treasure comb of miracle.

     Insects bearing gifts, bees pollinate crops, fruit and wildflowers, to play a life-giving role in sustaining our healthy eco-system. It’s been their business for ages. The flight of bees reaches back to ancient times, illustrated by Pliny the Elder’s tribute to the organization of bees in his encyclopedic volume, Naturalis Historia. Long ago in Rhodes, brides dipped their fingers in honey before entering their new home. During the Roman Empire, citizens could pay their taxes with honey, instead of gold. In Egypt and the Middle East, people embalmed the dead with honey, of particular interest to me since my father was a mortician.

     It’s indisputable that bees and honey have left their mark on spiritual tradition. In the Bible’s Old Testament, Matthew 3:4, tells of John the Baptist living in the wilderness on locusts and wild honey, while in the Book of Judges, (14.8) Samson finds a swarm of bees and honey in the carcass of a lion.

     In Jewish tradition, honey is the symbol of Rosh Hashanah, the New Year. Apple slices dipped in honey celebrate the anticipated sweetness to come. Buddhist monks receive honey during the festival of Madhu Parnima, a practice that commemorates Buddha’s retreat, seeking peace with his disciples. The legend states that while away, a monkey brought him honey and thus began the tradition. Regarding Islam, there is an entire Surah in the Holy Qur’an called the Honey Bee and according to hadith,  Prophet Muhammad strongly recommended honey for healing purposes.

       Inside a rocky cave in Valencia, Spain, Eva Crane discovered evidence of a Middle Stone Age painting. Her book, Archaeology of Beekeeping, finds humans hunting for honey at least 10,000 years ago. The artwork shows two female honey-hunters collecting the sweetness from a high bee hive. The women, depicted in the nude, carry baskets and use a long, wobbly ladder to reach the wild nest.

    Dwelling on the illustrious history of bees makes reading about their recent mysterious disappearances truly distressing. Millions of honeybees have disappeared, as Western hives suffer from colony collapse disorder. Articles blame mites, malnutrition, pesticides and cell phones, with the mites receiving the most scientific attention.

    Fortunately, worldwide research rises to protect the honeybees. It’s discovered that some Russian varieties are resistant to the destructive mites. Organic beekeepers also claim success in keeping their hives buzzing with activity. Spanish researchers isolate the parasitic fungi that invades hives with disastrous results. When treated with an antibiotic, the bees completely recover.

   At our first Tucson home, a black mass shaped like a football appeared in the low sky and swarmed around our scraggly orchard of fruit trees. We stood a distance away, as this dark, traveling beehive floated here and there, looking for a place to land. The thought of honey produced in our back yard intrigued us, but since our arrival in the Southwest, the innocent Arizona honeybees merged with the Africanized type. Even appreciating their place in nature, the close presence of bees more aggressive and sometimes dangerous, flashed a worrisome note. I thought of the naked women in the rock art and admitted I was not a honey gatherer of that courageous type. When the bees in the orchard swam through the air to find a better home, I breathed a sigh of relief. 

      Years later, in a new house, another swarm arrived, to nest inside the hole of a saguaro outside our back wall. The cactus stood tall, a sentinel guarding the swimming pool. Cautiously, we watched the bees gradually establish ownership of our backyard, dipping regularly into the pool to seek a drop or two of moisture. We chose a path of peaceful co-existence and whenever possible, avoided them, knowing that now all Arizona bees are called the killer kind.

     With grandkids scheduled to visit, I remembered the beesting I’d suffered years ago in our Nebraska pool. The image of kids splashing in the water, hovered over by ever-present killer bees made us reach for the phone. Rather than risk grandkids’ stings from riled up insects, we called the University of Arizona Agriculture Division. Soon, a well-garbed, head covered team arrived to remove the mass from the saguaro hole.

      Eventually, the bees returned, bringing their electrostatic charges and voicing their authority. Now, they rustle about when I seek the cool water, buzzing my head. Since I live on this property too, I swim regularly, but with a costume change. Submerged in the pool, I wear a large purple sunhat to protect my head from curious bees. The Cone of Silence, my kids named the hat, after the old TV show, Get Smart. Every time I think of Agent 99 as my alter identity, I laugh, but cling to my practical solution of safety. 

     We can’t escape them. In symbol and reality, bees and honey exist everywhere. Shoppers choose from orange blossom, mesquite, rum truffle honey or other wildflower variations. Loved ones are called, “hon” and “honey” or in the musical South Pacific, the affectionate “honeybun”. Turning the pages of our kids’ favorite book, I once again enjoy Winnie The Pooh’s affection for that sweet stickiness. I fondly recall the lyrics of the first song our son Judd learned as a little boy after hearing Burl Ives. It began, “The buzzing of the bees in the sycamore trees.” 

     As the heat of the sun drips thoughts of bees and honey into my desert hours, the buzzing sound of approaching visitors reaches my ear. I think of apple trees. Peach trees. Almonds and alfalfa. Cabbage. Onion. Pumpkin. Cotton and soybeans. These industrious insects pollinate a long, remarkable list that covers two-thirds of the globe’s major crops. Out of respect, I tip my purple Cone of Silence hat to the bees that bless the delicate balance of our good earth with their good work. 

 

A sad post, but a reminder to celebrate each day. My friend from Pen Women, also a writer and editor for Fine Lines Anthology, is now in hospice, a total surprise. We were together a couple weeks ago and she was having trouble with her eyes, then went blind and doctors found an inoperable brain tumor. I deliberated whether to post this, but it shook me up enough to review my life and what is important regarding the time spent here on earth. My friend did live a creative life, helping others and she's in a peaceful frame of mind in her hospice bed. She made me pause and now I can only think to wish a fulfilling life to all.

HERE A REPORT ABOUT THE VALUE OF AUTHORS SEEING CORRECTLY. While promoting my novel POWERBALL 33, I've been requested in certain instances to give the Amazon assigned ASIN number. The other day, an automatic message replied that my book using my given ASIN was not found in Amazon's database. Btw, my number is B00A02O5AO. I went online to get some forum help and found an answer that said Amazon uses zer...o's, and I'd probably used capital O's. I re-sent several emails, but one bounced back, no record. Since it was the New Year's holiday, I couldn't call to find out more. I emailed +Victorine Lieske, a NE Writers' Guild member, a whiz who is helpful to all. She quickly discovered that some are zeros and others are capital O's. I'd spent about 2 days fiddling with it. In small type, they seemed the same, but looking carefully, some were rounder than others. OK, pay attention.