Momentary Magic

I'm considering changing the title of my zine from Hearth & Heart to Momentary Magic.

This is an example of the type of story that appears in Hearth & Heart.  I would appreciate some honest feed back to the following questions.

1.  What are your favorite genres?  (for example:  weird, fantasy, mystery, horror, suspense, etc.)
2.  Who are your favorite authors?
3.  In which genre would you place Stories To Be Carried?
4.  Would you read more stories like Stories To Be Carried?

Please feel free to respond in the comments below.

Stories To Be Carried

528 words

I saw a woman on a dusty road one day. The sun shone hot, and there was the smell of berries and pine trees in the air and the drone of insects, and no other sound was there but for my own breathing as I labored to climb the steep hill we were both on. She was walking down the hill, and she had strapped to her back an enormous basket. And as I approached her, I could see the basket was hanging with the open end downward.
She greeted me, and I her, and then I asked her about the basket.
"It was for the stories I gathered," was her answer.
"But it's upside down. You've lost your stories, " I said with deep concern.
"Well, they weren't really mine, you know," she said leaning in and placing a hand upon my arm as if to reassure me that it was quite alright.
And then her eyes left my face and looked off into a distance which I could not perceive, and she spoke.
"There was a time gone by, when I would collect all the stories I would come across. And whether they spoke of beauty and joy, or they spoke of tragedy and pain, it was all one and the same to me, for each story would wring my heart until it felt like it would burst within my breast.
"And because I gave them my attention, and allowed them to touch my heart, they would cling to me, until I had to find a basket large enough to hold them all.
"And still I went my way in the world, gathering more stories, until my basket became heavy with them."
She paused and looked at me. She made a deep satisfied sigh, and her face resembled that of a child, though she seemed ancient.
I looked back at her eagerly, and I waited for her to continue.
"One day, they just became too heavy to carry. So I simply turned the basket over, and allowed them to escape."
"But didn't they want to stay with you?" I questioned.
"They were old stories. They had grown sleepy. I don't know if they even noticed being loosed."
I pondered this a moment and she continued.
"Now when I meet a story, I can look it in the face, acknowledge it, get to know it even, before I continue on my journey. It's nice to be able to say to a story, "I see you" and then be able to part ways rather than picking it up and carrying it with me."
After a moment of silence, she sighed happily and spoke again.
"I've enjoyed our talk, but I must be on my way," she said gesturing to her path which led down the hill.
I turned to watch her go, and could see other women in the distance making their way up the hill, and all were carrying baskets of varying shapes and sizes.
I knew what I must do. I reached behind me and removed my own basket. Then turning it over, I watched the stories tumble out like colored marbles.

Copyright Rita Tortorello 2014 May 30
This story appeared in Hearth & Heart Volume 1 2015 Summer Edition

Thank you for reading and for your feedback.

SundayFunnies: When a Cat ...

New Feature:  Sunday Funnies.

The neighbor's cat loves to jump from a tree to our roof in order to get past the tall wobbly wire fence.  He then likes to jump off the roof, usually onto a large bush to get into our back yard.  Today he decided this looked like a better option.  Apparently it wasn't what he was expecting.

Don't worry, when I came outside to see what the commotion was, I saw him beating a hasty retreat from our roof top to his jumping off tree, and back to the safety of his own yard.

**No tabbies were harmed in the making of this Sunday Funny.**

All day long I've been trying to think up a funny doodle to post, and this happens.

the Saturday Breakfast Serial

What is the Saturday Breakfast Serial?

Welcome to the Saturday Breakfast Serial!  I'm trying an experiment here to breath new life into my neglected blog.  So I thought it would be fun to work on a story in weekly installments.   It's an experiment, so I guess I will just have to see how it goes.  I'll do my best.  After all this is how I started writing Tea With Whimsy.

This first one will probably be a short story, possibly told in only two installments.  I don't have a title, so I'll just call it...

 

The Desk

       In my house is an old desk.  The kind that people used to call a secretary.  A beautiful piece of oak furniture with intricate carving on the front.  It was here when I moved in, apparently left behind by the previous owners.  When I first saw it, I tried to open it, but it was locked.  I tried to contact the previous owners, but they wouldn’t return my calls.  I guess they didn’t want the desk.  I was only mildly annoyed that I couldn’t make full use of it, but it was beautiful and didn’t take up much room, and it did seem to belong just in that spot in the house.  I decided to keep my eye out for any keys I might come across at yard sales or second hand stores.  And maybe if I was lucky, it would turn up somewhere in the house.  Eventually, I forgot my mission to find a key for it.



I had been living in the house several years now, and one day I was raking the leaves in my front yard.  It was a beautiful Autumn afternoon, late in October, and the sun was shining brightly upon leaves of red and gold.  Occasionally the wind would blow through sending more leaves cascading down from oak and maple branches.  In those moments I would stop and simply watch the leaves falling, delighting in the way the wind would toss them once more into the air, and how the leaves would skip away turning cartwheels before it.
I had just turned back to my rake and was vigorously using it to toss leaves into the flower beds that lined the path to my front door, when I happened to trip over a fairly large round stone, one of many that lined the gently curving bed.  Having knocked it out of place, I bent down to replace it and saw an object which caught my attention.  It was encrusted with soil, but even so, I could see it was a very old, very rusty iron key.  And I suddenly thought of the desk.  Leaving my rake leaning against the front porch, I rushed indoors to scrub clean the key.  I couldn’t wait to try it.
After rinsing layers of caked on dirt from the key and scrubbing the rust off with emery cloth, it seemed ready to try and I headed for the desk.
Just as I approached the desk, there was a knock at the door.  I hesitated longing to ignore the interruption, but the struggle was only a brief one and my own good manners won out over my desire to satisfy my curiosity.  I slipped the key into my trouser pocket and went to answer the front door.
I opened the door to find one of the neighbor kids standing on the front porch holding my rake.  He wanted to know if I needed help with the leaves.  I knew this boy.  He was a good worker and so I told him to go ahead with the raking, and to come see me after.
It seemed that I was not destined to try the key anytime soon, as next I was interrupted by a phone call, which led me to my lap top and from there I was kept busy with some work online for the next hour.  I looked up and realized that my helper outside would probably be finishing up and since I had some cookie dough chilling in the fridge, decided to bake a batch of cookies to further reward him after his long hard work.  After all, I reflected, money isn't everything.
It didn’t take long for the scent of fresh baked cookies to make its impression.  And I found myself faced with not one hungry 9 year old, but three.  That’s some powerful magic I thought to myself, putting the plate of snicker doodles on a table on the front porch.
I paid off my young crew of workers and spent the rest of the afternoon talking to neighbors drawn by the social atmosphere seeming to emanate from my front yard.
Naturally I forgot all about the key until days later when I was doing laundry and came across the key while going through my pockets.

Come back next Saturday for another installment of the Saturday Breakfast Serial.

Story Telling

I've started writing again after an absence of about two years.  Hearth & Heart Volume 2  2017 Autumn edition is the result.  With 4 short stories, an essay, original photos and artwork, with collage throughout, this is a photo copy paper zine in half page size with 29 pages of text and illustration in 36 total pages.

You can take a look at all three editions of Hearth & Heart on Pegana Press.

The Newest Members of the Flock 2017

Welcome to the world, little hatchlings.  I'm so glad you're here.

2017 Chicks

2017 Chicks

Broody Days

Sunday 7/16

It was a little cooler today.  I made a trip into town to get some fence posts and when I got back, I found another chicken in the nest with Blossom.  I picked her up and placed her on another nest at the opposite end of the hen yard.  She obviously got the message, because she left an egg in the new location.   Hopefully that will put an end to more eggs piling up under Blossom while she tries to hatch what she already has.  Poor thing, she starts out with two and at last count had 11.

Monday  7/17

Real hot today.  The shed gets like an oven.  With the wet towels wrapped around her nesting box, she stays cool.  I can see a slight shimmering as the moisture evaporates.  She eats grain ravenously out of my hand and I leave greens for her.  Been trying to find worms or slugs, but they are hard to find right now in this weather.  Even though she has water, she doesn't seem to be drinking unless I dip my finger in and hold it to her beak.  Hopefully she's getting enough water.  And she could be getting off the nest without me seeing her do it.

Tuesday  7/18

Yesterday evening I took her off the nest and counted 13 eggs under her.  I removed one and marked the rest with an X in pencil on the end of each egg.  Luckily the one I removed was fresh and I was able to use it.  She ate some grain and drank a little water before settling back on the eggs.  Tonight I checked again and found that she had soiled the nest, some of the eggs were in bad shape.  I ended up removing one fresh one without an X and one with an X because it was completely coated in manure.  That leaves 11 eggs.  After removing the straw, I put a little fresh straw in around the eggs.  She seemed to settle in fine, but I'm not sure I want to keep doing that.  I've never handled a hen so much during broodiness.  Before, they were always isolated from the others and I just left them alone.  I've been considering fencing the shed off so the others can't get in.  It may be the best option.

Wednesday  7/19

Today is day seven.  It's been real hot every day, but this evening seemed cooler.  I decided to leave her on the nest and not check on the eggs yet.  I'm sure there are probably more than 11 eggs in there with her now.  I just don't want to keep disturbing her.

Thursday  7/20

It's been one full week that she's been on the nest.  I woke up to rain this morning and was so grateful not to have to water the garden.  Now it's hot and muggy this afternoon.  I was too busy to spend much time outdoors today, but when I checked late this afternoon, she was still on the nest and seemed to have had some water.  Since it stayed cool today until the shed was in shade, I didn't bother with the wet towels.  I'm thinking about getting some chicken wire over the door, so the others can't get in, but then she can't get out.  Not a bad thing as long as I leave plenty of food and water in there with her, and check her throughout the hot part of the day.  I'll probably do it Saturday and then check the eggs one more time.  I've never candled them, but that would be day 10, if I wanted to do it.  The soiled egg with the X that I removed on day 6 had gone bad, so it's possible there are others too.  I hate micro managing this whole process.  I never did before and everything was always okay.  I'd rather just trust nature.

Saturday 7/22  Day 10

Down to 10 eggs now.  When I checked this morning, one of the eggs was broken.  It looked strange, as if it had been hard boiled inside.

I put up wire fencing over the door, but it didn't do a bit of good.  At about 10 am I heard angry hen sounds coming from Blossom's nest box, and found that another hen had gotten in, despite the wire.  Later in the day, I heard more angry protests and found that Blossom had gotten out and was frantic to get back onto the nest.  Well, that was a nice idea, but didn't work, so I took down the wire.

Saturday 7/29  Day 17

I spent the last 3 or 4 days building a nursery under the trees in the garden near my back door.  It's been incredibly hot and so I've only been able to do a little work early in the morning before it heats up.  This evening we moved her in the twilight while she was sleepy.  We picked her up, nest box and all and put her into her new, secure location.  New coop and reinforced 1" chicken wire perimeter.  Now I can relax.  I wasn't sure she would survive the impending heat wave, forecast for the next few days.

Sunday 7/30  Day 18

She seems to be very happy in her new location.  Not stressed and still on the nest.

Monday 7/31  Day 19

Blossom spent 30 or 40 minutes wandering around the garden before settling back onto the nest.

Wednesday 8/2  Hatch day!!

I caught a glimpse of a yellow?? chick!!  I'm so excited.  I've never had anything from my flock but Barred Rocks who start out as little dark puff balls.

Thursday 8/3

I've been leaving her alone.  She got off the nest at one point this afternoon and I saw 1 robust yellow chick and 4 dark chicks.  Also one partially hatched chick that died.  I removed it, and she settled back into the nest, but I noticed she wasn't sitting very well on the still unhatched eggs.  Her attention is on the 5 chicks.  I was tempted to remove the 4 remaining eggs but left them with her.  You never know.

Friday 8/4

This morning I could see her standing over another hatching chick, so I was glad I didn't remove the eggs last night.  It turned out to be another yellow chick!  But unfortunately, she did not survive.  She got out of the egg alright, but seemed to have internal injuries and bled to death.  It was sad, but she died with her "mom" and nest mates.  After that, Blossom wanted to be done hatching eggs and left the nest, so I removed the last of them.

Out of 10 eggs, 7 hatched.  Two didn't survive.  But the 5 that did are very hardy.  Well done Blossom.  Well done chicks.

Blossom Time

I know, I know.  It's mid July.  But the Blossom I'm speaking of is a hen.

In my last post, I ended that I was hoping for another batch of chicks.  It is exactly a year ago today that the last batch began hatching out.  So Happy Birthday to Josephine and Starlight, the last surviving members of those chicks.

Two days ago, when I went to close up the hen house for the night, I was one hen shy.  I knew right where to look.  There is another shed in their yard where they like to lay eggs, and sure enough, there was Blossom sitting on eggs and acting all puffy and cranky.

But still I wasn't sure.  Because Blossom always acts broody whether she's on the roost at night, walking around the yard or laying an egg.  She's perpetually fluffed up and walks around making herself look as big as possible with her tail feathers all spread out, screeching at anyone who comes near.  It's what she does.  And I've often wondered why she's been this way for about 4 months.

She's fooled me before.  She can sit for an hour or two on a nest, but she's always on the roost at night.  It gave me hope that she hadn't joined the flock at sunset.

I felt under her.  Hmm.  Only two eggs.  That meant she'd been there most of the day, because that is the vehicle of choice for most of my flock--an old wooden box, on an upper shelf.  I usually get between 4 to 5 eggs in that one spot alone every day.

I went back to the hen house and retrieved 5 more good sized eggs from the clutch I had let build up there, and tucked them in around her.  I wanted to see if she would tuck them in under her, but she didn't seem interested.

"That's okay, Blossom.  If you're broody, that's wonderful and I will look after you when you need me.  And if you're not that's okay too.  You can have these eggs if you want, and if not, I'll take them away in the morning."  I went away for the night keeping my fingers crossed that this was really a broody hen and not just a moody one.

That was Thursday--day one.

On day two--Friday, I had some running around to do and so I was away from home until almost 2:30 that afternoon.  I walked into the shed to check on Blossom and it was like an oven in there.  I went out immediately and got a couple of bath towels still wet from the laundry and wrapped them loosely around her wooden box.  The air instantly felt cooler.  I topped off her water, gave her a handful of greens, and left her alone.

That night, she was still on the nest, so I removed the towels, which were still damp.

Day Three--Saturday, July 15th:

As midday approached it began heating up, so I went out with fresh wet towels, only to find an empty nest.  The shed was already very warm and the eggs were feeling as if they had moments before come straight out of the chicken.  I stashed the towels on a nearby tree and decided to check back in 30 minutes.  It made me smile to see Sparky perch himself on the opposite shelf to keep an eye on the wooden box/nest while Blossom was away.

I noticed there were a lot more eggs than I thought there should be, and realized after counting 11 eggs that someone was continuing to use this box when she was stepping out.  I wanted to remove a couple of them, but had no idea which were the newest eggs.  I promised myself, I would try to keep a closer eye on things between 10 and noon from now on, to discourage more laying in that box.

When I went back to check 30 minutes later, there she was snuggled in her box, so I wrapped it in wet towels again.  It's amazing how effective evaporation is at cooling the air.  It felt like a subtle, cool breeze had suddenly come into that space.

I always love this business of hens hatching out chicks.  I wouldn't dream of having an incubator.  It would take all the magic out of it.  I pray that Blossom will be a good mom.  At least that she'll last through the hatching process and hopefully that she'll want to stay with them and teach them, like Ruby did.  Flora missed that part of it last year.  She barely lasted to the end, and ran out of patience before they were more than a few days old.  I was able to coax her to sit on them at night for a few more nights, but after that she was done.  Fortunately, it was summer and the weather was warm.  They were hardy and had a safe place to snuggle together at night.  Of six, one was killed by a chicken, another by a hawk and one was dwarfed and died a couple of months later.  The final three were Josephine, Starlight and Crown.

Crown was a beauty.  I tried to find him a home, but had no takers.  Then he was blinded by Sparky and I kept him for about three months after that hoping he would somehow recover the sight in one eye which seemed undamaged.  I finally had to let him go, and felt just awful about it.  Birds have such amazing eyes that a blind bird doesn't seem to be able to adapt.  I worked with Crown and sometimes for a moment, it would seem that his eye would respond, but eventually I just had to give in and say goodbye, even though it broke my heart.

Now, here we are again.  Hatching time.  Anything can happen.  It's pure potential.  Pure magic.