Her Frozen Heart #writeprompt

Thursday photo prompt: Frozen #writephoto


Her frozen heart,

Struggles to beat,

Her secrets are carried there.

Grasping at straws,

She struggles to breath,

A heart is so tender,

So easily broken.

Her heartache she veils,

So no one will know,

The grief that she feels,

Within her frozen heart.

                          by Karen DeMers Dowdall







Book Review: Tales From The Irish Garden by Sally Cronin and Illustrated by Donata Zawadzla










Sally Cronin writes a delightful fairytale that children and adults will love. Beginning with the fact, if you don’t know anything about fairies, it is important to note that fairies are very small beings that have a strong society of their own. They have all the same problems that humans have, but how they deal with their problems are quite different than humans. Their communities are quite diverse and that diversity brings them great strength in dealing with a few outliers that cause problems; like the Winter Fairy whose jealousy, insecurity, and mean spirit fail to give him any kind of reward in the end.

It is the kindness and love from the royal family, headed by Queen Filigree, that save the day when problems arise in her magic Kingdom of Magia. It is quite amazing that so many different beings like honeybees, spiders, voles, rabbits, messenger birds, Fluffy the Dragon, and many other kinds of beings, including stone guardians, manage to live in harmony together.

In Queen Filigree’s magical kingdom, where even Oaks and Elms help keep the Kingdom safe with their pollen. The trees help to prevent mean outliers from harming the Kingdom of Magia by creating dense areas of pollen that cause constant sneezing. However, one very difficult problem is the fact that no amount of help will save the Kingdom in its present location of 700 years.

Humans had decided to clear the entire area where the Palace of the Queen and all of her subjects abide. For 700 years the ancient Magnolia tree with deep roots had keep the fairies and other beings safe, until now. Including, all the honey bees whose honey was a key part of their income as well as a drink that was very important for health if not imbued too much or too often.

As luck would have it hope was insight. Messenger birds were sent to find a place to live for everyone in the Kingdom of Magia. The story that unfolds, in the Tales From The Irish Garden, includes the gracious help of the Storyteller who tells the tale like no other. The Storyteller is a gentleman farmer, who loves special roses in his garden, and who has magical skills of his own.

He begins to unfold the story that brings alive each creature within their own families, their own problems that become so real to the reader that you may never look at a Badger, a Fox, a Donkey, Mice, and so many other delightful beings that all help each other in the most amazing ways when great danger is afoot, again. Queen Filigree is forever grateful to the Storyteller for saving her Kingdom and she also improves the life of the Storyteller with an entirely new community to help keep safe. They solve their problems together in unity.

The Tales From The Irish Garden is a mythology that brings to light what kindness, sharing, caring for others, and love can bring to any society that abhors greed, selfishness, and meanness. It is a great society where every being, no matter their poor beginnings, large or small, can thrive. I give this delightful magical fairytale, with a grand and beautiful message of unity, 5 stars.

Find Sally Cronin’s Books on the following:



smashwords for Epub: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/SallyGCronin

Smorgasbord Health Column – The major Organs and systems of the body – The Immune System and how it works by Sally Cronin

Sally, once again a fabulous presentation about the immune system in a way that people can understand how important it is to be aware of their dietary lifestyle. Staying hydrated enough is my problem, but I am working on it. Thanks again for a great post on our Immune system – awesome.

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Like most things in life there are two sides to every story, which means there are the good guys and the bad guys. When it comes to our health this involves healthy bacteria and dangerous bacteria.

All creatures, including of course humans, have an amazingly complex but effective system to distinguish between the two, and to ensure that we don’t come to harm. It is our Immune System.

This system has been evolving over hundreds of thousands of years and developing strategies to protect us every time it met with a new threat. This is often; as germs mutate when they meet resistance and our software needs frequent updating.

The majority of the bacteria in our body is designed to be there. These are the friendlies and our home defence team. Without a gut teeming with them many of our systems would grind to a halt, our brains would not…

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The Light and Dark of Sarah Brentyn: Guest Post

Hinting At Shadows is a must read for me. It sounds really great. Diane, great post and thank you for sharing. 🙂

Myths of the Mirror

Sarah Brentyn swears she’s an introvert on the verge of becoming a recluse, and yet she’s one of the stars of the blogosphere – hilarious, clever and outgoing, commenting, visiting, guest posting, writing, and managing two blogs (in addition to a real life). Her posts are full of the humor and sarcasm of a natural wit, and yet, her book of flash fiction, Hinting at Shadows, is a foray into the darker, deeper emotions and struggles of the human journey. Sarah is a conundrum. Who is this woman? I invited her here to answer that question and tell us about these sides of her writerly self.

Sarah Brentyn: Living in the Light, Writing in the Dark

I’ve been asked how it is (or why it is) that I write a light-hearted, pseudo-humorous blog then turn around and pen some seriously dark fiction. I’m here to answer that question.

I am Dr…

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Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – Wellness Wednesday: Take a Two-Minute Walk Before You Read This (2015) by Jim Borden

Jim Borden reminds us that it is so important to consider our health and to get up and walk even for just 2 minutes (I just did) before reading this great post that Sally has shared with us. We have legs for a reason – let’s use them – go for a walk every day and if writing – get up and take a 2 – 5 minute walk every 2 hours, easy way to lose weight too.

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

This is the first post from the archives of Jim Borden who blogs on ‘Borden’s Blather’across a variety of topics.  I only need to walk passed a mirror to see that emotional contentment and mental stimulation resulting from nearly 7 years of blogging are not reflected in the spreading of my derriere.. I do get up at regular intervals during the day to get some exercise but it is not nearly enough… so this post struck a chord.. and I am sure it will with you too.

Wellness Wednesday: Take a Two-Minute Walk Before You Read This (2015) by Jim Borden


The New York Times had a story today, “Sitting is Bad for Children Too”  by Gretchen Reynolds.

The story reports on a new study of healthy young girls that found that after a single session of prolonged inactivity, the children developed changes in their blood flow and…

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The Journey

The Journey

Thursday photo prompt: Journey #writephoto


He had to find her. His innocent child that had been taken from him in the dead of night. Why?  He had done nothing wrong and neither had his beautiful daughter Samira. She was still a mere child of ten and two, but these barbaric men would take children because they could. He tried not to think of what might be happening to her. He knew she would be terrified. Her poor mama died tragically. Samira was his only living child. He would have no meaning left in his life should he not find her.

The barbarians thought of little girls as ready for marriage, but Samira was not yet a young lady. This thought just nearly destroyed him. His tears ran down his face like rain; a storm of fear, anger and grief. He would find them, those who took her, and Allah willing, praise be to God, he would save her from the dirty hands of men.

He knew his journey would hazardous and long, with neither provisions nor weapons. They had horses, food, water, and weapons. They were from the north and often went on their raids farther south were poor farmers, like him, eked out a living that provided barely enough food for the two of them.

He would stop his search for the night before sundown. He would find a strong tree with branches strong enough to hold through the night. He would wrap his summer shawl around himself and attach it to the tree branch. His walking stick he would use to provide protection from the wild dogs, boars, and other dangerous creatures that roamed at night.

The moon would be full for a few more days until the new moon keep the night dark, except for the radiant light from the stars. Soon it would be time to rest. He had little food left and even less water. He knew how to starve and still live, but without water, the body shrivels and dies in just a few days.

As the sun was beginning to set on the horizon with brilliant colors jewels in ruby, amber, and gold. The day was ending soon, and he searched for a tree to sleep in. Trees were not numerous in this province, yet to his surprise he was very close to a tall tree with strong sturdy branches and leafy foliage. There might even be a fruit, nuts or seeds to eat. Fruit would give him fluid and energy.

He climbed the tree with his bare feet and hands, tied himself to a strong branch. To his amazement the tree had little red fruit of a kind he had never seen. He was aware of the danger of eating fruit unknown to him, knowing that some fruit, seeds and nuts where highly poisonous. If the tree were full of fruit it was a sign that the fruit was poisonous as birds would avoid the fruit.

Amar saw that some of the fruit had been eaten and there was no sign of dead birds, so he ate a handful. He made him feel full, but strange as well. He prayed for rain. As the night wore on Amar began to feel ill and he hoped the fruit wouldn’t kill him.

By morning, Amar was near death, but he was not aware of this change in himself. He was at his small farm with his daughter Samira and his wife was cooking over a small flame. Everything was going well, and he was happy with his family, his farm and his hopes for a good marriage for Samira when she was old enough. He felt tired so he lay down on the small handmade cot in their adobe hut and took his last breath.

A year later a group of military men stopped at the same place and camped under the same tree that was full of leafy branches and berries. One man climbed up the tree to gather and cook the berries to kill the poison that he knew was in the fruit.

He was shocked to find the skeleton of a man still tied to the fruit tree and he shook his head. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had seen what the poisonous fruit could do to humans.



Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives -#PotLuck #BookReview – Educated by Tara Westover Reviewed by Chuck Jackson

Chuck does an incredible review of Tara Westover’s non-fiction bestseller, Educated, and I  felt what Tara went through emotionally and how she prevailed was exhilarating on the other hand. Chuck Jackson writes with empathy and pain and does it very well indeed. Stunning. Chuck Jackson has two non-fictions that reveal his own dsyfuntional family and the terrible trauma he also suffered, but again with an amazing ability to rise above it and prevail beautifully. Thank you for sharing Sally.

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the series of Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post:https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the final post for authorChuck Jackson and I have selected a book review that he wrote for Educated, a memoir by Tara Westover

Educated by Tara Westover Reviewed by Chuck Jackson

“If [J. D.] Vance’s memoir offered street-heroin-grade drama, [Tara] Westover’s is carfentanil, the stuff that tranquilizes elephants. The extremity of Westover’s upbringing emerges gradually through her telling, which only makes the telling more alluring and harrowing. . . . By the end, Westover has somehow managed not only to capture her unsurpassable exceptional upbringing, but to make her current situation seem not so exceptional…

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Sue Vincent’s Write Photo Photo Prompt: Within







I gaze, thoughtfully, at the bright blue sky and then the barren earth. There is only so much time left for me. I am only fourteen years old. I am in hiding, but it won’t be long before I am found. The few of us left in this desolate place are quickly taken into slavery or worse—gunned down on sight. The rebel army from the mountains will find me too. I try not to be scared, but the wondering and the waiting are perhaps worse than what might actually happen to me. If they don’t find me, I will probably starve to death and I don’t wish for either ending.

My mind wanders now, lack of water to drink is leading to dehydration, and then I pray for rain, but thus far, prayer as not changed my situation. I am reduced to licking up dew on the rocks. Rain would be so wonderful, but in the now almost barren piece of landscape, I am also afraid of the wild dogs; once family pets. They are now as wild and hungry as I am.

I was lucky to find this hiding place on a rocky mound. It gives me a safe place to hide and to sleep, but the moon is so bright that it is hard to sleep and night time gives me little safety. The wild dogs hunt day and night. I am safe for now, because then can’t reach me in my hiding place. My memories of home and family just make me sad, so I try not to think of them or wonder what happened to them. I fear that they must be enslaved or dead by now.

I climb up to my rocky crevice—it is warm and comforting. I watch the moon’s light dance across the land that I can still see from my safe place. I must have fallen asleep because I am awoken by voices and I don’t move a muscle or hardly breathe.  The voices, could it be or am I dreaming? I must be dreaming.

“Clara, if you are here please call out to us, we miss you and we can only stay a few minutes before we must leave this god foretaken place forever.”

“Mom? Mom? Is that you?  I thought you were gone or dead?”

“My sweet girl, we came to find you and please hurry, we must go now.”

“I am coming.” I quickly climb now and I find my mother, father, and little brother all looking up at me with big smiles.

We gather around each other and then my dad picks me up and carries me. I must be as light as a feather. My dad leads the way and I see a Jeep waiting not far away. We move quickly, almost at a run.  My young brother and I are placed in the back seat and they climb into the front. “Seat belts please,” I hear my dad say. Dad starts the Jeep just as mom closes the Jeep’s right side door.

“Where are we going?” I whisper, to afraid to say anything above a whisper.

My mom answers back, “To a beautiful place across the sea where we will all be safe from all the guns and all the senseless killings and destruction. We will be taking a ship to a faraway place where there are no guns, no destruction.”

I smile and take a deep breathe and exhale slowly. I am home at last with my family. I watch as the barren landscape appears to disappear as clouds of dust billow behind us. An exciting adventure awaits are family, I muse, as well as a safe place to live and to grow up!  I sit back, sigh, and wonder, is there really no other choice but to run away from the country we once loved? And, what happens to all the others who wish for peace and a good life, but have no means of escape? My moment of glee dissolves into sadness and regret.