Word Wenches

Achieving balance

Anne here, and today, for some reason, I woke this morning feeling a bit gloom-and-doom-y. You know how it happens — news headlines come at you from all directions and you start despairing at the state of the world. Mass shootings, dreadful laws, inept, lazy or corrupt governments, Covid deaths, poverty, racism, injustice, global warming and people's refusal to face it, and . . .  I could could go on. But I won't.

The media is so eager to throw disaster and ghastliness at us, and it's pretty easy to sink into negative thinking, but though it can creep around the edge of my consciousness, I'm determined not to let it in. Some days you really have to work at achieving some balance to the gloom and doom. Today was one of those days for me.

So what did I do to counteract the gloom and doom? The first thing was to take the dog out for a good walk. It was a cold and showery day but luckily we hit a lovely patch of sunshine.

Dogs are great for mental health  — they're funny and silly and affectionate and they live absolutely in the moment, and find joy in the smallest things, which is a great life lesson. And I am lucky in that I have some lovely areas where I can walk her. 

We started off walking on a narrow dirt track beside a creek, and she loved that, diving in here and there to investigate all sorts of interesting smells. But then the little path got increasingly muddy and when everything was squishing wetly beneath my feet, I decided we'd head for  higher ground and walk on the (gasp) actual path. Yes, poor spirited of me, I know and not nearly as interesting, but strangely I prefer my feet dry. I had to make her sit for this photo, because otherwise she'd continue darting around gleefully — and heading back to muddy joy.

Things That Go BANG!

Andrea here, Today is a special festive day here in America. The fourth of July—our Independence Day—is a high point of the summer season. Traditionally celebrated with outdoor barbeques replete with hot dogs, hamburgers and raspberry-blueberry-whipped cream flag cakes—hip, hip hooray for the red, white and blue! And along with all-American food, fireworks is an integral part of the festivities.

So, in the spirit of “things that go bang,” I thought I would give a few highlights on the history of gunpowder, which is the catalyst of filling the skies with bursts of bright color.

Wild Swimming

Christina here. There’s a lot of talk about wild swimming these days. It seems to be a recent concept, even though the practice is as old as time. The term just means swimming outside in a body of natural water – lakes, rivers, waterfalls or the sea. The main thing is that it isn’t man-made. The phenomenon is increasingly being romanticised (at least here in the UK) as it becomes more popular, with lots of people extolling the virtues of going back to natural bathing in this way. Perhaps because we were all shut in for so long during the pandemic, the freedom of swimming outdoors seems extra special. And I agree – it is!

I’ve long been a huge fan of freshwater bathing in particular – I much prefer it to the briny sea, although I’ll happily swim anywhere. Unlike the ocean, though, the water in lakes and rivers isn’t salty so you end up feeling really clean and refreshed. There is no need for a shower afterwards and even your hair will be extra soft.

June What We're Reading!

Mary Jo here…

…with the Wenches' ever popular "What we're reading" blog.  Dig out your credit cards, we're going for a joy ride!

I've always known that Jennifer Ashley is a very talented, prolific author who writes historical romances, paranormals, and historical mysteries, but I hadn't found her Leonidas the Gladiator series, written under her Ashley Gardner pseudonym.  So far there are only two novels and a novella, but more are coming.  The first book is Blood of a Gladiator.

Leonidas is the premier gladiator in Rome, a rock star fighter who is recognized in the streets, but he has reached the point where he can't face any more killing.  That is the moment when he receives his freedom from slavery and can finally quit being a gladiator and make his own life--if he can figure out how.

He has no financial resources, but an unknown benefactor gives him a modest apartment and a slave of his own: Cassia, who is a scribe.  Illiterate Leonidas doesn't know what to do with  a slave who does doesn't cook or do housework, but she can help him find jobs and is very good at negotiating contracts and making sure they get paid. 

Initially Cassia is afraid of him, but he's a good guy and doesn't ravish her and gradually they develop a bond of trust.  And have to deal with unexpected murders.  Ashley Gardner creates a wonderful sense of place and what it would be like to live in Rome during the reign of Nero.  But the best part is the characters and their slowing developing relationship. 

 

A Little Peace

Cassatt, Blue Armchair

Susan here. Well, this has been a week … we've had a whirlwind of news, distraction, stress, strong opinion - not necessarily a great time to focus on the usual things we attend to in our lives. For me, that's writing and tasks that are sitting when they should be moving along. Sometimes it's good to set things aside and find a little peace, calm, and respite wherever we can. So sit back and let the Wench blog be a bit of a haven today. Take a deep breath, smile, relax. We could all use a little kindness and love and something real pretty right about now.

Here's a gallery of work by artists who have created little pools of peacefulness here and there. A lovely way to breathe and recalibrate if needed (and if you happen to have a romance on hand - maybe even written by one of the Wenches! - we hope you find a little time to read today, another great way to recalibrate).  

When a bowl or cup or something valuable is broken, the Japanese have a tradition called kintsukuroi, “golden repair” – the item is put back together with an application of gold that adheres the broken pieces, making the item not just useful again, but gives it a new beauty as a work of art and a meditation on renewal and growth. It’s a lovely tradition—and the next time I drop something, I will wish for gold instead of glue to make it right again.

Dreaming in trees

Anne here, and today, for something a little bit different, I'm going to talk about trees. I'm very fond of big old trees and spent much of my childhood up in a tree, dreaming, or reading or surveying my imaginary kingdon. I remember once, when we moved house and I was feeling really unhappy about it — it was in the city, and having come from the country where I roamed far and wide at will, I didn't like the look of all those cramped streets and houses and roads.

But then I found a big old tree in the back yard, behind the garage, and I immediately climbed it and found a spot to sit in it and gaze out over the rooftops, and that made me feel much happier.
This is a favorite painting by a favorite artist, Anita Klein and I think you will see why I love it so much. 

When Europeans came to this country a couple of centuries ago, they set about cutting down thousands of big, ancient trees. That legacy horrifies me, even though I understand that they needed to clear land  to grow food, and that the native hardwood timber was good for building, but even so, some of the old photos are so devastating to look at, knowing that they cut down trees that were hundreds of years old.

Peacock Splendor—A Gallery of Regency Military Men

Andrea here. Summer may be just starting here in the northern hemisphere, but the book calendar means that I’m already in “Autumn mode” for the upcoming release of my new Wrexford & Sloane mystery. MURDER AT THE SERPENTINE BRIDGE will hit the shelves on September 27 . . . By the by, my publishers is doing a Goodreads giveaway of 100 free ARC copies. Just click here by July 1 to enter for a chance to win! 


On my end, I, too, am starting to think about promo stuff. An introvert at heart, I would rather be writing the stories. But this book is particularly fun to talk about. There are times when an author get extraordinarily lucky and history provides a setting for a mystery more perfect than any author would dare to make up!

The actual Peace Celebrations which were held in London during June of 1814 play a leading role in the book’s plot. I’ll be talking more about the specific events in later blogs. Today, however, I’m musing about the pomp and splendor of the famous guests—especially the victorious military brass—who came from all over the Continent to celebrate the defeat of Napoleon (this is, the first defeat!) and his exile to the isle of Elba.

Midsummer Celebrations

Photo by Markus Bernet

Christina here. In a few days it will be midsummer and as I’m going to be in Sweden then, I’ll be celebrating more than usual. Nordic summer nights are special and there’s nothing more special than midsummer – it’s a big deal in Sweden and should preferably be experienced in the countryside somewhere. People head out of the towns en masse in order to enjoy nature. Maybe because of the long, cold dark nights they have to put up with for half the year, they appreciate the light warm evenings of summer all the more. Summer is short, so this time is precious, and especially the longest night of the year.

This year summer solstice falls on Tuesday 21^st June but here it's not always celebrated on the correct date. The Swedes have decided to always have Midsummer Eve on a Friday, so it can be any day between 19^th and 25^th June. But the sentiment is the same.

The Butterfly Effect

Nicola here, talking about insects (as you do!). I’ve got to admit that I’m not a big fan of insects, especially if they sting or bite, or even if they don’t. I quite like a ladybird (ladybug) and I make an exception for butterflies and moths, and obviously I appreciate honey (thank you, bees.) But I’m not naturally drawn to beetles or other insects. (I also dislike spiders, but in the course of writing this blog piece I’ve discovered they aren’t insects but arachnids.)

Last week, however, we were away for the few days on the trail of one of the most beautiful and scarce insects in Britain. Fortunately it is a butterfly, the swallowtail. Whilst there are 550 species of the swallowtail family in the world, we only get one in Britain and then only in one relatively small area, the Norfolk Broads in the east of the country. So off we went to find them. (The photos are all by my husband who is a massive butterfly fan as well as a great photographer).

Initially we had planned to hire a small boat and cruise the Broads in search of these elusive but beautiful creatures. However I have a love hate relationship with boats and fell in on my last visit to the Broads as did our dog, who could swim better than me so got out more easily. We compromised on a houseboat, which was a lovely experience. Waking up on the river listening to the call of the birds and watching the moon on the water at night was very relaxing and peaceful.

Ask A Wench: our noble ancestors!

Jean Hasbrouck House

Pat here:

The wenches thank Jane Irish Nelson for this fabulous question: Have you traced your family history? If so, what interesting stories have you discovered? And have you ever incorporated those stories into your books? Jane, you’ve won a copy of one of my books!

Wenches, being the history nuts we are, have delved into the lives and stories of our ancestors where we can and have some fabulous tales to tell…

Except me. I may have mentioned previously that both my parents were orphaned, my mother at birth and my father when he was young. I never had biological grandparents and have no family stories to tell. But after doing the DNA search on one of the genealogy sites and consulting with a cousin, I’ve traced bits and pieces. My father’s ancestors were deeply rooted in the Hudson

Huguenot cemetery

Valley of New York, well back to the original settlers. (There was a good deal of intermarriage in these early families. The same names pop up frequently on the tree.)  One of them has even written a small book with all the research he has done, although I seem to have lost the link. I have pages of research notes from family members, and all I can say is that I’m pretty sure that side of the family came from a lot of vain storytellers with too much time on their hands. <G> If I follow their irregular notes, I am descended from half of European nobility.