This is a day late but hopefully not a dollar short. Yesterday, my mother would have been eighty-six years old. May she rest in peace. Today’s WordPress Wednesday contribution is in her memory. Enjoy!
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The inspiration for this list was a discussion between The Producer and me about how kids can light the parental upset fuse by a simple question. We both have asked some and have been asked some.
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Welcome to another edition of Open Book Blog hop. This week’s question is: “What was your favorite young reader novel growing up?”
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As a child, I loved the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. My mother read most of the books to me because of my limited vision.
Through Mother’s excellent narration, I lost myself in the big woods, the prairie, or wherever the family lived. I endured dust storms and blizzards and was cold, hungry, sick, and happy right along with them. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but I think this is good reading material for kids because it helps them understand what life was like centuries ago and be thankful for what they have now.
How about you? What books did you enjoy reading when you were growing up? You can click here to participate in this week’s hop and read what other bloggers have to say.
The family in my new novel, Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me, also suffers a hardship. It’s not as bad as what the Ingalls family endured, but it’s enough to tear the family apart, although everyone tries to put on a brave face. If you want to know more, see below for details and read the book.
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Copyright 2021 by Abbie Johnson Taylor.
Independently published with the help of DLD Books.
Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.
After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.
Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.
Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?
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On a cold winter day, with snow on the ground and the wind blowing, Celia stared out the window of her squalid New York City apartment at the swirling flakes. She had no money left to pay for heat, electricity, and other amenities, and she shivered, wrapping her sweater more tightly around her. At least her cellular plan was paid until the end of the month. She withdrew her phone from her pocket and made a call. “Mom, you were right about me not being able to make it in New York. I want to come home.”
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Thanks to Girlie on the Edge for inspiring the above story with her six-sentence prompt for this week. If you’d like to participate in her blog hop, click here.
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By the way, for those of you who use the National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled, The Red Dress is available for download from their site here. No matter how you read it, please be sure to review it wherever you can. That goes for all my books. Thank you for stopping by. Stay safe, happy, and healthy.
Copyright July 2019 by DLD Books
Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.
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Since this is Favorite Poets Week, I’m sharing my favorite poem by my favorite poet. “The Lanyard” reminds me of all the useless gifts I was compelled to make for my mother during summer camps and art classes.
A perfect example is the ash tray I made for her during a pottery class at the YMCA she encouraged me to take when I was in seventh grade. I can’t describe it except to say it looked like something the cat dragged in. She may never have used it, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
How about you? Did you ever make anything for your mother? How did it turn out? Did she ever use it?
My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds
That’s Life: New and Selected Poems
How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver
This song needs little explanation. To all you mothers out there, have a great day tomorrow.
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Abbie Johnson Taylor
We Shall Overcome
How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver
That’s Life: New and Selected Poems
My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds
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