Travel Gives Me Inspiration To Write!

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“The world is a book, and those without travel read only one page.”–Saint Augustine.

New York Times on 8th Street, Manhattan

Michael Jackson Musical @ the Neil Simon Broadway Theatre, Manhattan, New York

Update On Leaving Henry

Hello Everyone, and Happy Holidays! I know it’s been a while. My travels for work and leisure kept me busy for most of the year. Traveling inspires me to write. I finally finished my novel, Leaving Henry, and I have started writing my second draft. The first draft was thirty-six chapters full of adventure, some heartbreak, and eventually triumph. I want to shorten it to 34 chapters once I finish the rewrite. Then, I can focus on preparing the manuscript for my editor to review and chop it up to her heart’s desire, with the end goal of publishing by late summer 2024

My Voyage To New York City To See The Michael Jackson Musical

While completing the first draft of Leaving Henry, I worked three months in Manhattan, Kansas, spent vacation in Costa Rica this past summer, and traveled to New York City last weekend to see the Michael Jackson Broadway Musical for my 65th birthday. It was a whirlwind trip but exciting. The last time I visited New York City was in the 90s.

Being a novelist, I stopped by the New York Times as my hubby and scrolled down a busy corridor on 8th Street. I majored in social work and nursing in college and began studying journalism. I even wrote for the university newspaper twice during my college tenure. Unfortunately, I did not pursue my literary passion, but if I had, I dreamed of working at the New York Times. It sure would’ve been an adventure if I had followed the journalism path.

We continued to weave and navigate the masses of people, stopping at a food cart along the way to order a hotdog, a food my doctor advised me to stay clear of because of my hypertension. But since it was my birthday, I ignored her advice. I always wanted to eat one of those famous street hotdogs in New York City, and it was good, juicy, and greasy. Later in the afternoon, we dressed up and attended the Michael Jackson Musical. My hubby surprised me with front-row seats. It was a fabulous musical, the best I had ever seen. The talented cast was mesmerizing, and the actor who portrayed Michael Jackson brought the iconic singer back to life. I swore Michael Jackson was singing and dancing on that stage if I didn’t know any better. Lol!

Dinner After The Show

After the show, we enjoyed an authentic Italian dinner with wine at Da Tommaso Ristorante, around the corner from the theater. My hubby had Gamberi Portofino, a delicious shrimp dish with prosciutto, mushrooms, sherry wine, and cream. I had Saltimbocca Alla Florentine, a scrumptious dish of veal sautéed with sage and prosciutto, and we shared a large portion of Tiramisu for dessert. Needless to say, I enjoyed myself for my 65th birthday!

The American Jazz Museum, Kansas City, Kansas

Union Station, Kansas City

My Travel Work Gig In Kansas

My traveling social work gig took me to Manhattan, Kansas, the home of Kansas State University, 2 hours from Kansas City. The quiet college town surrounded by cornfields and farms lacked entertainment, and when my hubby came to visit, we spent the Labor Day Holiday weekend in Kansas City. We visited the American Jazz and Negro Baseball Museum. It is a must-see if you decide to visit the city. My mother often talked about the Indianapolis Clowns Negro Baseball Team she saw play after she left Henry, Tennessee, and moved to Indianapolis. I enjoyed reading about the team’s history while visiting the museum, and I mentioned the group in my novel, Leaving Henry.

We also visited Kansas City Union Station and the Blue Room, a famous, historic jazz club back in the day. With its mysterious, dark vibe and thrumming jazz beat, I enjoyed listening to the music. Last but not least, we visited the Country Club Plaza on Broadway, a pretty outdoor mall with a Moorish, high-end vibe. Although Kansas City is known for good barbecue, I wasn’t impressed. Lol! But if I were to recommend a barbecue place, I encouraged you to visit Jack Stacks Barbecue at the Country Club Plaza. Their Fire-Kissed Wings, hickory cooked and rubbed in cajun spices, were to die for.

Traveling To Costa Rica on Vacation

Outdoor Eatery in the jungle.

Looking out the window from our hotel-Costa Rica

We passed by these Umbrella Plants on our journey in the Jungle

Donell shopping at the flea market in San Jose

Waiting for ice cream at the flea market.

Bobcat resting on the path during our hiking journey.

My hubby and I visited Costa Rica this past July, a Central American country known for its Pacific and Caribbean coastline, rainforest and jungles full of wildlife, and vast green coffee plantations. The most exciting thing about Costa Rica was the loud, screeching, colorful, exotic birds we heard all day. The locals told us they become louder and shrill when rain is on the horizon.

I could take a picture of one of those Screeching Birds during my various treks through Costa Rica.

On our first day, we spent the day in bustling San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, combing their large flea market, Mercado Central. The busy retail bazaar is a crazy maze of narrow alleyways with vendors selling wares from Costa Rica’s famous ice cream, Lolo Mora, to authentic pottery, jewelry, and masks. We spent the whole day there shopping.

The following day, we did an 8-hour hike to Poas Volcano, an active 8,848 ft stratovolcano in central Costa Rica in Poas Volcano National Park. During our journey, we saw exotic plant life like the umbrella plants in the picture above and various wild animals. We stopped and ate delicious, spicy taco salads at a fun outdoor restaurant. The 8-hour hike worked every muscle in our body, and we were tired at the end of the day.

We also had an opportunity to visit a coffee farm, Cafe de Monteverde, a few miles from our hotel. We tasted three different coffees. The nutty coffee aroma smelt delightful, and the delicate, smooth balance of acidity, buttery, and sweetness danced on my palate. I enjoyed all three coffees so much I bought a pound each to take home.

Coffee Bean Tree @ Cafe Monteverde during my pilgrimage to the Coffee Plantation.

Coffee Beans Before Roasting

Therefore, as you can see, my travels inspire me to write and share my adventures and experiences with all of you. Next year, we plan to visit Egypt once I finish my final draft of Leaving Henry. I’m still determining what exciting traveling work gigs may come my way, but I will keep you informed. In the meantime, have a Merry Christmas and a joyous Happy New Year!

Homer, Alaska-A Coastal Paradise!

An Excerpt From The Novel, She Was A Fly In The Wrong Soup

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Salter’s Point Regional

Wednesday, January 9th

Rachel didn’t get much sleep, so she called out sick to take time to get herself together. She wasn’t in any emotional shape to see patients, especially mentally ill ones. Rachel showered and threw on her red sweats. She went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. With her back against the counter, Rachel contemplated how to spend her day honoring Jamie. She wasn’t the least bit interested in sitting around moping and crying. Her desire was to do something worthwhile.

Antsy, with no ideas in mind at first, Rachel finished her coffee, grabbed her purse, and strutted out the door. She had no idea where she was headed, but she hopped in her Toyota and took off down the road. To her surprise, Rachel found herself turning on the street where Jamie lived, and she decided she would stop by to see if Peepers was there,

Rachel pulled up in front of Jamie’s townhouse and parked. She was surprised to see a green Oldsmobile sitting in the driveway, Rachel wondered who it belonged too. Maybe it’s one of Jamie’s family members,

Determined to find out, Rachel grabbed her purse and got out of the car. She stepped briskly to the door, and boldly rang the doorbell. Swift and heavy footsteps approached from the other side and abruptly stopped. The door swung open, and a man about five foot and seven inches tall stared back at her with deep-set ocean-blue eyes. He had blond hair, which was thick and lustrous, but greying around the temples, and his suntanned face was sharp and well-defined, giving the impression he had weathered many storms. He wore wrinkled black overalls with Nike tennis shoes. 

“Can I help you?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“I’m sorry…I…I don’t mean to pry,” Rachel stuttered, terrified. “My name is Rachel Thomas. I’m a friend of Jamie’s, and I also worked with her at Salter’s Point Regional Hospital.”

The man’s face brightened a little. “I’m John Lee, Jamie’s husband.”

Rachel jerked her head back and bucked her eyes, floored. “Oh, glad to meet you. Jamie didn’t tell me she was married!”

“Yep, for ten long years.” For a minute, he seemed to blank out, staring into space as if he was reminiscing, living in another time. When Rachel cleared her throat, he came to his senses. John took a step back and opened the door wide. 

“Would you like to come in? I’m packing some of Jamie’s things.”

“Love to,” Rachel said as she walked inside, and he closed the door behind her. She stood in the living room, inspecting the place. Clothes and shoes were sprawled everywhere on the couch and chairs. Cardboard boxes were scattered on the floor, some filled to the top with clothes and others half filled with Jamie’s shoes. John carefully folded Jamie’s sweaters and packed them in a box. 

“I see you’re packing up Jamie’s clothes. Are you taking them somewhere?”

“I thought I’d take them to the women’s shelter in town. I certainly don’t have any use for them,” he gruffly answered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Rachel smiled, pleased Jamie’s clothing would be put to good use.

John stopped packing and walked swiftly toward the kitchen. 

“Can I offer you anything? Coffee, juice, water? Anything?” Rachel took the liberty and followed him. The color drained from her face, unable to answer when she entered the kitchen. Cardboard boxes were everywhere, and Jamie’s dishes and pots were out on the counter and table. Rage pulsated through her veins, and her cheeks burned. Why is he packing everything up so soon? Jamie hasn’t been dead for a good forty-eight hours, and he’s already getting rid of her belongings! What’s the rush?

“I didn’t hear your answer,” John said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel replied. “I guess I was taken aback by all of the packing. Why the rush?” Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to say that. Oh, well.

“I realize this looks quick, but I don’t have a lot of time. I pastor a church in Colorado and I’m leaving on a mission trip next week. Although we were separated, Jamie considered me her family. It was her desire that if something happened to her, I would take care of things.”

Rachel’s anger faded. “I understand. Please forgive me.”

“No problem. So, what would you like to drink?”

“I know it’s early, but a shot of whiskey would be fine.”

John’s eyebrows went up, hesitating, and he cracked up laughing. “A shot of whiskey? So, you’re a whiskey drinker like my wife.”

“No, not really. I prefer wine, if you must know.” Rachel chuckled, batting her eyes.

“Then why the whiskey?” 

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it’s my way of honoring Jamie somehow.”

“Perverse, but I love it!” John laughed. “Let’s see if I can find some for you.” 

He went to the pantry, opened the door, and shoved some canned goods around. “I know Jamie must have some stashed away in here somewhere,” he muttered to himself. Rachel checked John out. She had to admit Jamie had good taste. Handsome, despite his rugged, weathered looks and short stature, John wasn’t her kind of guy. She preferred a taller man, much like the suave, mysterious Doctor Everett James.

“You’re in luck! Look what I found behind a big can of Crisco.” John held the bottle up so Rachel could see it.

“Great,” Rachel smiled as she pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “I just want a little bit. I’m not used to drinking whiskey.”

“At your service.” John went to the counter and twisted the cap open on the whiskey bottle.  He found two shot glasses in the dish rack and poured the whiskey, filling both glasses to the rim. He brought the drinks to the table and sat, shoving one over to Rachel.      

A box of photos caught his attention, and he pulled it in front of him. John grabbed the first picture he saw on the pile, that was all it took for his eyes to water. He clutched the solid wooden frame tight in his hand, reminiscing over a perfect moment in his past. 

“This is Jamie and I when we first got married. The happiest memories hurt the most,” he said in a low voice as he managed to restrain the flood of tears from within.

“You say you guys were married ten years?”

“Yes. Jamie and I grew up together. We both were from a religious family, grew up Catholic. We talked about having our own church one day.” He handed Rachel the photograph, and she looked at it. Rachel marveled at how Jamie’s style had changed over the years, from dressing feminine to more manly. Thinner and looking happy, Jamie looked cute, holding her bouquet of flowers in her little white dress. She had a big smile on her face as she gazed into her husband’s eyes. John looked like a movie star in his double-breasted pinstriped suit. His hair was longer but still swept back away from his handsome face.

“You know, Jamie never talked about her marriage much. What happened between you two? If you don’t mind me asking.” The photograph reflected happier times, and they were such an attractive couple.

“Anne Cleveland happened,” John quipped in a sour tone, frowning. He almost looked wolfish as he briefly recalled his wife’s betrayal. “Jamie met her at an aerobics class, and the rest is history. It took me a while to get over it,” he said in a low, cracking voice.

“I bet.” Rachel could see it was painful for John to talk about it and decided not to press him for more details, but John apparently needed to talk.

“Every time I called her and learned she was still with Anne it would break my heart. I knew I couldn’t live anywhere near the two of them. My ego couldn’t take it.”

“So, you and Jamie never divorced?”

“No, we never did.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, Jamie and Anne broke up a month ago.”

John’s eyes widened as he fell back in his chair. “Really? What happened?”

“Anne will tell you they broke up because of her drinking, but the real story is, she fell in love with a man who happens to be my ex,” Rachel answered with sourness in her voice. 

“Damn!” John shook his head in disbelief.

“Damn is right,” Rachel said, half smiling.

John looked down for a moment at his glass of whiskey. He brought the alcohol to his lips and threw his head back. The bitter sensation of the liquor made his eyes water. John coughed, blowing out his cheeks as he swallowed, and grunted. “Well, I guess we both got burned!” He looked over at Rachel and noticed she hadn’t touched her glass. “What are you waiting for? Drink up! It’s in Jamie’s honor.”

“I know.” Rachel sighed, taking a deep breath. She laid John’s wedding photo back in the box and picked up her glass. Rachel took one sip, almost spitting the bitter-tasting liquor straight out of her mouth. She managed to hold it in, getting it down, screwing up her face as she swallowed. Rachel coughed repeatedly. “Damn, that’s nasty!” she said in a dry, hoarse voice.

John’s eyes gleamed with amusement as his mouth curved into a smile. “You weren’t kidding. Whiskey is definitely not your drink.”

“No, it’s not.” Rachel looked John dead in the face, scrutinizing him. “I don’t believe I ever witnessed a pastor drinking alcohol.” Rachel wanted him to know she disapproved of his behavior. 

“They generally don’t, but this one does,” he smirked, winking at her. “Besides, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, alcohol isn’t the solution.”

“I’m well aware.” John’s smile slipped into a questioning frown. “So, is there a reason why you stopped by? You knew Jamie is no longer here.”

Rachel’s eyes watered. “I know. I guess I wanted to see if she was really gone, besides I was hoping Peepers would be here.”

“Peepers and Jamie are gone, I’m afraid.” His face darkening a little. They sat quietly for a while   each soul a million miles away stuck in their own thoughts. Rachel flinched when John tapped his fingers hard on the table. 

“Where are you with the funeral arrangements?” she asked. 

“I’m almost done with the arrangements. Jamie is Catholic, so her funeral will be at Saint Mary’s Church.” A muscle in John’s jaw twitched as he gazed down at the table misty-eyed. 

Recognizing his vulnerability, Rachel felt empathy for the pastor. “Do you need any additional help with the planning? I don’t mind helping,” she softly offered.

“I’m fine. Jamie and I have talked about this many times. She has a will. I’m following her wishes.”

“When is the funeral?”

“This Saturday.”

Rachel stood on her feet. “Okay. If you need anything, please let me know.”

“You’re so kind. Thank you,” John smiled as he stood up. He escorted Rachel out of the kitchen and into the living room. Rachel walked to the door and she abruptly turned around to face him. “I enjoyed meeting you, John. I wish it was under better circumstances,” she said with a warm smile. 

“I do, too. It was nice meeting you, too, Miss Thomas, my wife’s friend.” 

She laughed, and John opened the door for her. Rachel waved as she walked out. 

“See you soon,” she hollered as she hurried to her car.

On her way home, Rachel stopped by the grocery store and bought a pint of chocolate ice cream. She thought about John and his heartbreak over Jamie. For a brief moment, she scolded Jamie for giving up on her marriage, but her scolding turned to sorrow, when reality hit her again.  Damn, I’m going to miss that girl!

Once she arrived home, Rachel went to the kitchen, opened her chocolate ice cream and put two scoops of the dessert in a plastic bowl. She put the rest in the refrigerator, then she went to the living room and plopped on the couch.  Exhausted from grieving, Rachel turned on the TV, inserted a movie in the VCR, and ate her bowl of ice cream. For the rest of the afternoon, she watched funny movies, and at dusk, she put on her pajamas and climbed into bed.

As Always Thank-You For Reading, Comments Welcome!

London to Paris: The Ultimate City Hop

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LONDON

To celebrate our anniversary, my husband and I set out for London, the vibrant capital of England and the United Kingdom, in October. London’s imposing Houses of Parliament, the iconic ‘Big Ben’ clock tower, London Bridge, and the historic Westminster Abbey—site of countless royal coronations—set the scene for our adventure. As we touched down at Heathrow International Airport, excitement and anticipation buzzed between us. We hailed an Uber to take us to The Royal Horse Guard Hotel, our home for the trip. Once inside, we needed to find the “lift” to reach the 4th floor, but after wandering for 30 minutes with no sign in sight, our patience wore thin. At last, we approached a customer service desk, where a young woman with long brown hair and sparkling blue, almond-shaped eyes greeted us with a warm smile. “Can I assist you?” she asked in a melodic English accent. http://amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

“I’m having trouble finding the lift,” I informed her. “We need to go to the 4th floor to get an Uber.”

She smiled and pointed past me. “It’s over there.”

I turned around and saw the elevator. “Do you mean the elevator?” I blushed.

“Yes! The lift will take you to the 4th floor.”

My husband and I looked at each other and laughed. How were we supposed to know the “lift” was the elevator?

As our Uber whisked us through the city, we gazed out the window in awe at the constant flurry of activity. Passing Buckingham Palace, we marveled at the grandeur and bustle that reminded us of New York City, with its lively crowds, endless restaurants, and vibrant shopping streets. The Royal Horse Guards Hotel, just two blocks from the palace, greeted us with a gracious welcome from the concierge staff. After settling into our elegant room, we enjoyed our first meal at Pasta Brown, a charming Italian restaurant just three blocks from Covent Garden Shopping Piazza. Savoring delicious food and wine, we immersed ourselves in the city’s energy, later strolling through the bustling piazza and exploring its eclectic shops.

The very next day, on our anniversary, we enjoyed a riverboat cruise on the Thames River and ate lunch. The panoramic view of this beautiful city was quite breathtaking. As the week progressed, we visited Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, and other tourist sites. Then one morning, we took a train to Paris.

PARIS

The train ride to Paris was three and a half hours, arriving there at eleven thirty in the morning. The last time we visited the city was 4 years ago. We took pictures of the Eiffel Tower, but did not go up. This time, we planned to go up the Eiffel Tower. After checking into our hotel, we caught an Uber to the Champ de Mars District, where the Eiffel Tower is located. Famished, we stopped and ate lunch at a local restaurant and then headed to the Eiffel Tower.

This iconic structure is a wrought-iron lattice tower 1,083 ft tall. It was named after the engineer, Gustave Eiffel, whose construction company designed and built the tower in the late 1800s. The locals called it La dame de fer (French for “Iron Lady”). The Eiffel Tower has elevator access (the French say “elevator”, not “lift”) with three levels for visitors. The first two levels have restaurants. We decided to purchase tickets for the second level at 35 euros each, and the ride up was quite bumpy. http://amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

Once we ascended to the second level of the Eiffel Tower, I was taken aback by the height, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over me as I refused to look down. I expressed my desire to return to solid ground as soon as possible. My husband chuckled, and together we maneuvered through the bustling crowd, capturing stunning photographs of Paris along the way. When we finally descended, I felt an immense sense of relief. The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering the enchanting Eiffel Tower District, where we marveled at the captivating architecture that surrounded us.

The following day, we hailed an Uber to the iconic Notre Dame District. There, we stumbled upon a charming restaurant called La Dame de Paris, conveniently located just a short stroll from the Notre Dame Cathedral. Known for its delectable croissants, France did not disappoint. We each indulged in a warm, flaky croissant paired with a rich coffee latte, and every heavenly bite melted in our mouths.

After our delightful breakfast, we eagerly made our way to the cathedral. Although entry is free, the line was daunting, and with a train to catch in the early afternoon, we had to forgo our visit. Instead, we meandered along the Seine River, exploring quaint shops and embracing the vibrant atmosphere of the city. Before we knew it, it was time to return to the train station and journey back to the hustle and bustle of London. http://anitasbooknook.com

Our trip to London and Paris was a truly enriching experience, and we look forward to returning soon. However, our next adventure awaits in the beautiful landscapes of Portugal, which we have planned for June of next year. Until then, I wish you a wonderful Thanksgiving, and thank you for sharing in our journey! http://anitasbooknook.com

Discovering Freedom: A Young Girl’s Struggle in the South

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The current image has no alternative text. The file name is: delipated-log-cabin-in-a-cotton-field.png

My Mother’s Story

“Leaving Henry” is set against the hauntingly beautiful backdrop of rural Tennessee in the 1930s, where the sun-drenched fields whisper tales of hardship and resilience. Ella Ridley, a spirited African-American girl, perceives from a tender age that the oppressive South stifles her dreams and aspirations. With every flicker of hope, Ella envisions a world beyond the dusty roads and faded dreams that surround her. Though she grapples with the harsh realities of poverty and countless setbacks, her indomitable spirit remains unshaken, propelling her toward a future where she can truly be free! This is my mother’s story. She spent the first 13 years of her life focused on leaving the South in search of a better life. Now at 98 years old, my mother is thrilled to share her story! Buy on Amazon.com by clicking on the link below.

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A New Year Spiritual Awakening! From the Novel, Leaving Henry

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Happy New Year Everyone! I hope your holiday season was great! Here is an excerpt from my latest novel, Leaving Henry. The year is 1932 and Little Ella celebrates her New Year’s at church. Enjoy!

New Year’s Morn

The next week, a beautiful overnight snowfall brought in the New anitasbooknook.com

Year. I stood on the porch in my Sunday best with Old Dick, waiting

to attend the annual church revival. I looked forward to the gospel

singing and visiting with Susie Pie. With ice and snow making the

road slick, I knew our journey to the church would be difficult, but I

still hoped to make it to church on time. I squinted from the glare of

the snow, waiting for Pappy to bring Midnight and the wagon around.

When he finally parked in front of the cabin, he twisted in his seat,

and his eyes flickered with annoyance.

“Red-Headed Gray-Eyed Cat! Whatcha waiting for? Get in!”

I climbed into the wagon, and Old Dick hopped in after me and

sat beside Pappy.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“They’re still inside, getting ready.”

Pappy rolled his eyes, exhaling a harsh breath. “Women! They take

entirely too long.”

A minute or two later, Momma, bundled up in her brown coat,

hat, and scarf, ran down the steps with Lucian in her arms. Clarence,

Escelle, and Irene followed her, and they all climbed into the wagon.

“Are we ready?” Pappy twisted around, his eyes darting from one

person to the next.

“Yes, sir!”

“Good, then let’s go. We don’t want to be late.” Pappy whipped the

reins, and Midnight turned around and trotted down the road. He

struggled to navigate the icy road, and the wagon slid this way and

that. The bumpy ride made us collide with each other as we held onto

the edge of our seats.

After the difficult ride, Pappy parked in front of the Methodist

church. Many churchgoers were carefully navigating the icy walkway

to the entrance. We climbed out of the wagon and joined them, taking

our time despite the cold. Once we safely reached the steps, Pappy

and Old Dick left.

The New Year Celebration @ Church

“Joy to the World” could be heard in the hallway as we walked in. amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

We entered the sanctuary as the organist swayed on a round red padded

stool. Her floppy orange hat hid part of her face, and her shrill

singing was so loud I was afraid it would wake the dead in the church

cemetery. Men and women meandered down the aisle, taking seats

in the pews. As my family waited to sit, I saw Susie Pie, her mother,

and Wildcat Fruit looking decent in a dark brown suit. I reached

around Escelle and tugged Momma’s coat sleeve.

“Can I sit by Susie Pie, Momma? Please?” I pointed. “She’s up there.”

Momma took a deep breath but didn’t answer me. Instead, she

ushered my brothers to their seats and gestured for me and my sisters

to follow suit.

“Momma,” I whispered, “Can I sit by Susie Pie?”

“No, you’re sitting with us.”

“But I haven’t seen Susie Pie since school let out,” I whined.

Momma gritted her teeth. “Go! But if I see you clowning, I’m

coming to get you.”

“Yes, mam!” I grinned, taking off down the aisle. Susie Pie’s sienna

eyes lit up when she saw me. She bolted out of her seat and hugged

me, mashing the side of my face with hers.

“I’m so happy to see you, Little Ella! It’s been boring not having

you around.”

“I’m happy to see you, too.” I hugged her back and sat beside her.

I unbuttoned my coat and leaned forward to check out Wildcat. He

held Missus Pebbles’ hand and had a giant cowboy hat on his lap. “Hi,

Missus Pebbles. Hi, Mister Fruit,” I whispered.

Missus Pebbles tilted her head forward, smiling. “How are you,

Little Ella? Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“Yes, mam.” I grinned. “Santa brought me a baby doll.”

“Well, that’s nice,” she replied.

Little Ella’s Holy Ghost New Year Dance anitasbooknook.com

The organist belted out the gospel song “At the Cross,” and the

choir marched and bopped in the aisle on the way to the pulpit.

They swayed back and forth, clapping their hands and harmonizing

with the music. The congregation shot out of their seats, singing,

and I noticed a broad-shouldered woman in a white hat and black

dress gyrating her big hips to the music two rows from me. She gazed

at the ceiling with her hands clasped tight, screaming, “Thank you,

Jesus!”

Susie Pie and I held hands, swaying and singing to the music. The

congregation stomped their feet, and shouts came from all corners. I

dropped Susie Pie’s hand, shook off my coat, and started dancing. I

whirled into the aisle with my arms flailing above my head, joyfully

singing at the top of my lungs. The clapping grew louder and louder,

and I gyrated my hips like the woman I’d seen earlier. Like her, I

twirled in smooth movement, swung my arms gracefully, and

shouted, weeping joyfully. The white Jesus statue on the wall behind

the pulpit seemed to stare at me with disdain. I felt intense shame for

a moment, but it didn’t stop me. I danced and gyrated harder, with

one hand on my hip, stomping my feet and yelling, “Halleluiah!”

Then, someone grabbed me and swung me around with such

force I felt my arm might come out of its socket. Nose to nose, I stared

into Momma’s raging light brown eyes. Without a word, she picked

me up, hurried to her seat, and plopped my fanny hard at the end of

the pew. She sat beside me with that angry, stern look, glaring at me,

daring me to move. I silently stayed put.

The choir finished singing, and Reverend Otis appeared at the podium

in his black robe with gold trim. He prayed passionately, and

weeping, moaning, and occasional shouts were heard around the

church. One woman screamed, “Thank you, Jesus, thank you!” She

shot out of her seat, and her hat toppled onto the floor. Her whole

body jerked, and she ran up and down the aisle, hollering, “Thank

you, Jesus! Hallelujah! Thank you!”

Two lady ushers dressed in black, one carrying a hand fan, rushed

over to her. One hugged the woman’s waist while the other fanned

her face. Soon, the prayer concluded, and Reverend Otis gestured to

the choir and congregation to sit. The ushers finally convinced the

lady to return to her seat. She softly moaned and shook her head, with

tears streaming down her cheeks. Like me, I knew the Holy Spirit had

touched her.

As Reverend Otis preached, my eyes met Susie Pie’s. I grinned,

and she smiled and turned back around in her seat. Somehow, I knew

she admired my bold dancing, something I didn’t believe she had the

nerve to do.

Becoming A Child of God In The New Year

The sermon ended, and Reverend Otis invited the congregation

to the altar to receive Jesus or to be prayed for. The organist

softly played “Just a Closer Walk With Thee.”

I wanted to go, so I looked at Momma, and her angry expression

had disappeared. Encouraged, I reached up and tapped her on the

shoulder. She leaned closer, her light brown eyes staring at me.

“Can I go up?” I whispered. “I want to be saved.”

She reached over my brothers and tapped Escelle on her knee.

“Go with Little Ella. She wants to go to the altar.”

Escelle stared at me with huge eyes, then hurried off the pew. I

stepped around the boys and Momma and joined Escelle in the aisle.

We held hands at the altar, and I waited for Reverend Otis to pray

over me. Someone grabbed my other hand, and Susie Pie stood beside

me. Smiling, I squeezed her hand and happily welcomed God’s

grace and the New Year.

Thank you for reading! Order on amazon.com

“Life is better with a good book and a cup of brew!”___Unknown.

Outside Activities

~ adixonthomas2017 ~ 1 Comment

I love to ride my bicycle or walk, especially during the fall/winter time with the fresh, chilly breeze blowing on my face. In the spring/summer, I take a class in water aerobics to cool off during the hot summer days in Atlanta. Check out and purchase my latest novel, Leaving Henry on Amazon by clicking on the link below.

https://amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

The Magic of Christmas Morning: A Family Celebration

~ adixonthomas2017 ~ Leave a comment

Little’s Ella’s Christmas

https://amazon.com/author/anitadixonthomas

Happy Holidays Everyone! Christmas is upon us and everyone is busy with chiristmas shopping. A good book as a gift to a friend or loved one who likes to read is a great gift this holiday season! I recommend my latest novel, Leaving Henry. It’s available on Amazon by clicking on the link above.

In the meantime , I would like to share an excerpt from Leaving Henry about Little Ella’s Christmas morning in the 1930s.

Christmas morning was filled with excitement, laughter, and anticipation.

Everyone gathered around the Christmas tree except for

Pappy, who was in the smokehouse grilling the last bit of the meat.

Momma and I were already dressed because we had to cook breakfast

for the Harrises later that morning.

With a full day ahead, opening gifts was the priority, and our

grandparents had already arrived to celebrate with us. Grandmother

Clem, dressed in her green flowery smock, sat in Momma’s rocking chair.

Cardboard Christmas Gift

Card Board Christmas Gift

“Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, chewing on snuff.

“We have to wait for Pappy,” Escelle reminded her.

Grandfather raised an eyebrow. “What’s he burning out there?”

“That coon he killed yesterday,” Grandmother Clem answered

with a straight face.

My heart sank. The delectable pork aroma I had smelled was a raccoon

grilling in the smokehouse. With misty eyes, I laid my head on

my bent knees, and Momma rushed over and kneeled in front of me.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” She lifted my chin.

“Pappy cooked that raccoon. I can’t eat that!” I cried.

Momma rubbed my cheek with her thumb. It felt like rough paper.

“You don’t have to. You can eat Grandmother’s baked ham

instead.”

“Okay,” I sniffled. I wiped my eyes, looking at the Christmas tree.

It was beautiful, splendidly decorated with homemade paper ornaments

and gifts underneath. I wondered if I got new shoes, a baby

doll, or both.

Grandmother Ella strolled to the sofa, smoothed the back of her

dress, and sat.

“Chillum, come over here. I need to tell you a story.”

We gathered around her. I sat on her left side, and Irene sat on her

right. Clarence and Lucian sat on the floor cross-legged while Escelle

propped herself on the arm of the sofa.

“Christmas is not all about getting gifts from Santa. There’s a reason

we celebrate Christmas.” She searched our faces. “Does anyone

want to tell me why we celebrate this day?”

“It’s Jesus’ birthday,” Escelle replied.

“That’s right, “Grandmother smiled. “So, let me tell you Jesus’s

story.”

The Christmas Story.

The First Christmas

Grandmother held us spellbound with a vivid description of Jesus’s

birth. She told us about the three kings who brought gifts to celebrate

his arrival and the shepherds who saw the bright shining star in the

sky.

“Grandmother, why does Santa bring us presents if it’s Jesus’s

birthday?” I asked.

Grandmother gently squeezed my shoulder. “Well, Little Ella,

that is a good question. Santa Claus is based on the life of Saint Nicholas,

a Christian man who gave generously to children in need. He

was a man who believed in Jesus’ commandment to love thy neighbor

as thyself. We should try to live like Jesus and do the same.”

“Will Jesus be mad if we keep our presents?” Lucian asked.

Everyone cracked up laughing. “I don’t think so, son,” Grandmother

said.

The front door opened, and Pappy strolled in with a big iron pot.

“Merry Christmas, everybody!” his gruff voice boomed. Lucian

hopped up and wrapped his arms around Pappy’s legs.

“Merry Christmas, Pappy!” He gazed up at him. “I want to open

the presents!”

“Move, boy! I’ve got to get this to the stove first.” Lucian hung on

while Pappy waddled to the stove.

“Lucian, go and sit down!” Momma demanded. He ran and sat in

front of the couch.

Pappy put the pot on the stove, which smelled like tobacco smoke.

I cringed when I thought about what was in it.

“Are we ready to open gifts?” Pappy brushed his palms together.

“Yes!” everyone shouted at once.

Grandmother Ella went to the stove. “I’ll get breakfast ready and

open my gift last.”

“You heard her, son.” Grandmother Clem fell back in her chair.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

Pappy laughed as he shook off his coat, flung it over the kitchen

chair, and strolled to the tree. Lucian wiggled out of Momma’s lap,

and he and Clarence ran to the tree and stood by Pappy, who reached

under the tree and gave each of them a wrapped gift. They dropped

to the floor and tore off the paper.

“Look, I got a red truck!” Lucian happily squealed as he held the

toy up in front of him.

“I got a truck, too!” Clarence beamed. “Mine’s black!”

They both growled as they rolled their trucks along the wood floor.

Pappy reached under the tree and handed gifts to Escelle and Irene.

While they tore into their presents, he strolled to the other side of the

tree and brought out another gift.

“Merry Christmas, Little Ella,” he smiled. “Santa hopes you like it.”

I grinned. “Thank you, Pappy.” I hesitated, waiting to see what my

sisters got first.

“So soft and cuddly,” Escelle smiled, stroking her beautiful huge

blue blanket with kitties all over it.

“Just what I wanted!” Irene giggled joyfully holding a fluffy brown teddy

Bear close to her cheek.

Momma patted my shoulder. “What are you waiting for, Little

Ella? Open your gift.”

My gift was wrapped so beautifully in green paper that I didn’t

want to destroy it. I took my time, carefully unraveling each corner

until all the paper had separated from the cardboard box. I tore the

box open and peeped inside.

“Wow!” I gasped. “Look what Santa brought me!” I took the beauty

out of the box and held it up. The caramel-brown baby doll had expressive

brown eyes and slightly parted ruby-red lips. My fingers

grazed the painted brown hair on her smooth rubber head. She had

stiff arms and legs and a green dress, which I loved.

“This is the best gift ever!”

Momma opened her present, and her face brightened. “What a hat! It’s perfect for Easter.”

She adjusted the floppy blue hat

trimmed in white on her head as she sashayed to the mirror by the

closet. “So snazzy! Very nice!”

“Pappy, open your present!” Escelle urged as Pappy stood holding

his gift under one arm.

“I might as well,” Pappy laughed as he moved to the sofa and sat.

He took his time unwrapping the box, then lifted the lid and took out

a black fedora hat. “Well, isn’t this something!” He stood on his feet,

strolled to the mirror, and adjusted the fedora on his head. He glanced

back at Momma. “You must have saved some serious cabbage for

this.”

“Santa got that for you,” Momma winked, laughing.

“All I got to say, Mae, is these hats will look good with our church

rags.”

Momma laughed, tilting her hat again. “Yes, indeed! Yes, indeed!”

Pappy returned to the tree and handed Grandfather his gift, a pair

of brown suspenders. He smiled and gently pulled on the stretchy

straps. “Very nice! Very nice, indeed.”

Pappy gave Grandmother Clem and Grandmother Ella gifts, and

both tore the wrapping off without hesitation. They each received

pair of wool gloves in their favorite color, purple for Grandmother

Ella and black for Grandmother Clem.

Then Pappy reached under the tree, brought out five paper bags,

and gave one to each child. We tore off the ribbons, ripped open the

bags, and found an orange, a small sack of hard candy, and a few walnuts

still in the shell. Each of us received a new pair of shoes, which

we appreciated. I quickly put mine on and pranced around the house,

smiling, thrilled to have shoes that didn’t hurt my feet. anitasbooknook.com

Christmas Breakfast

Butter and cinnamon scents drew us to the table which was set

with Momma’s best dishes. Grandmother Ella placed a bowl of fried

apples, a basket of piping hot biscuits, and a platter of eggs and bacon

in the middle of the table. We all gathered around the table, Papa said

grace, and we enjoyed our Christmas breakfast together. Anita’s Contact Station

As Always Thank You for Reading! Merry Christmas!


			

	


			
				


	

		
I watched “Mighty Mouse” on TV after school when I was a little girl in the 1960s.
	

				

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What’s your favorite cartoon?






			

	


			
				


	

		
Santorini, Greece. A beautiful place!
	

				

			 ~ adixonthomas2017			 ~ Leave a comment					

				

		

Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?






			

	


			
				


	

		
Sweet Potato Pie is a must!
	

				

			 ~ adixonthomas2017			 ~ Leave a comment					

				

		

Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?






			

	


			
				


	

		
A Heartwarming Thanksgiving: Food, Family, and Fun
	

				

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An Excerpt from the novel, Leaving Henry.





When I woke up on Thanksgiving morning, the delicate smell of sweet potato pie greeted me, with rich nutmeg and cinnamon spices that made my mouth water. It was Momma’s tradition to make sweet potato pie on Thanksgiving. She added ingredients that nobody knew about, calling it her secret recipe. She passed that secret recipe to me shortly before her death, and I still have it to this very day.





My sisters were already up, so I lay there for a while listening to the hustle and bustle in the next room. Momma had decided to invite company to dinner, and much to my surprise, she invited Susie Pie and her mother. She even asked Wildcat Fruit to join us. As I lay there anticipating the day, I heard banging on the front door. When Pappy answered, I heard Wildcat’s gravelly voice.





“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!” he shouted. The noise level seemed to rise whenever he visited. “I brought you a barrel of wood. It’s outside on the porch. It sure smells good in here, Betty Mae. What time is dinner?”





“Three o’clock, and don’t be late.”





“I won’t!” His hearty laughter made the cabin walls vibrate.





“How’s everything in Alabama?” Momma asked.





“My nephew has a good lawyer, and we hope he’ll be found innocent.”





“When is the trial?” Pappy asked.





“Sometime in the summer. I’ll let you know.”





“Thanks for the wood, man. We certainly need it.”





“No problem. Well, I’ll be back at three. Have a nice morning.” He left, and the whole cabin seemed quieter.





I hurried out of bed, washed, dressed, and tidied my braids, then joined the family in the kitchen. Everyone was busy doing tasks and talking to each other. I silently slipped onto a bench at the table and tapped my tin mug with a fork.





“Good morning, everybody!” I yelled over the noisy chatter.





Momma put a basket of hot biscuits on the table. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Are you ready for breakfast?”





I grabbed a biscuit. “Yes, mam.”





She brought me two sausages, jelly, and a boiled egg. “This should hold you until dinner.”





Everyone ran past me and grabbed their coats and hats from the closet.





“Where are you going?” I asked.





“Outside,” Clarence replied. They threw on their coats and hats and left out the front door. I hurried up and ate, put my dishes in the sink, slipped on my coat and hat, and ran outside with Old Dick.





Red and orange leaves quilted the yard like a blanket. Copper-brown leaves swirled and danced in the air. Fistful by fistful, we crunched the leaves into a big, hilly pile, and circled the mound.





I straddled my legs. “I’ll go first!”





“No, I want to go first!” Clarence shouted. He charged forward, and his body flew through the air. He landed on the leaves with his arms and legs flailing, laughing his head off. I ran and sailed into the pile of leaves after him, squealing my heart out.





“Here I come!” Lucian shouted in his baby voice as he hoisted his body and landed on the pile of leaves.





“Stop showing off!” Escelle cackled as she kicked the leaves everywhere. Old Dick rolled in the leaves, barking.





“Look, who’s showing off now!” I giggled.





We played in the leaves until Momma came outside around two o’clock and held the door open. She looked pretty in her orange dress and apron, and her hair was swept up in a bun.





“Time to come in and freshen up, chillum!” she shouted. “Our company will be here soon.”





The boys raced past Momma into the house, with my sisters and I racing behind. Unique aromas came from the kitchen, and a plate with sliced ham was on the edge of the kitchen counter. Old Dick ran to the counter, sniffing.





“Get away from there!” Momma shoved Old Dick away. “Chillum, wash your faces and those grubby hands!”





We ran into the bedroom, took turns washing our hands and faces, and returned to the kitchen. The whole place looked festive with Momma’s fancy white tablecloth on the table and a pumpkin centerpiece with pine branches. Colorful leafy wreaths with acorns hung on the windows and doors, and a minty evergreen scent lingered in the air. Momma stirred a pot of green beans on the stove while Grandmother Ella set the table. Grandmother Clem slept in the rocking chair by the fire, dressed in her royal blue dress. On the floor next to her was a small jar of slimy brown liquid. Grandmother Clem was never without her snuff.





“What’s wrong with Grandmother Clem?” I asked.





“She’s just tired,” Momma explained.





“Too much of that homebrew.” Pappy strolled in with a large iron pot and put it on the stove. “Two chickens ready for the trimmings,” he grinned, eyeing me.





Momma placed the chickens on a huge tin platter and spooned baked cornbread dressing around them. The chickens’ roasted smell and the memory of Pappy killing them made me queasy. Just then, Susie Pie and her mother arrived, and I ran to greet my friend. We hugged each other tight, giggling.





“I’m glad you came!”





“Me, too!”





“Are you hungry?”





“Sure am! I can’t wait to eat!”





I led Susie Pie to the pallet in the living room, and we both flopped on it. She wore a red dress and shiny black shoes with a strap over the instep.





“I like your shoes. They’re so shiny.”





Susie Pie reached down and tugged on her shoe strap. “My Momma bought them last week because I grew out of the ones I had. I’m only supposed to wear them for special occasions.”





“Nice.” I blushed, folding my legs under me. I didn’t want her to see my worn, holey, too-tight shoes. Susie Pie’s mother stood quietly by the door holding her black handbag close to her chest. There seemed to be loss and sadness in her sienna eyes. When Missus Pebbles finally pulled off her coat, she looked stunning in her dark navy full-skirt dress and black heels. She pulled off her wool hat and gloves and raked her fingers through her short, curly brown hair.





“Let me take your coat,” Momma offered.





“Thank you, Betty Mae,” she replied softly. She stuffed her gloves in her handbag, looked around, and made herself comfortable on the couch. “It sure smells delicious in here.”





“Just wait until you taste Mae’s cooking,” Pappy boasted.





“I’m looking forward to it,” she demurely smiled.





Wildcat arrived next, roaring, “Happy Thanksgiving!” as he came through the front door. The back door rattled, and Pappy rushed to open it. Grandfather came in looking nice in his freshly starched white shirt, black suspenders, and matching slacks and boots. He repeatedly snapped his suspenders, which got on Grandmother Ella’s nerves.





Everyone sat in the living room chatting and laughing. Wildcat and Missus Pebbles engaged in a lively conversation and seemed enamored with each other. Missus Pebbles patted Wildcat’s knee, batting her short lashes. My eyes widened in horror, and I elbowed Susie Pie.





“Eeww! I think your momma likes Wildcat Fruit!”





“Uh, uh.” Susie Pie frowned, shaking her head. “No, she doesn’t.”





“Yes, she does. Look at her.”





Susie Pie looked up, then slapped one hand over her mouth. “I don’t believe it!”





“So, what are you going to do?”





“Tell her he’s mean as the devil.”





“I hope you can convince her,” I sighed.





“Don’t worry. I will!”





Momma arranged the rest of the food on the table, poured sweet, iced tea into the tin cups, set the empty pitcher on the counter, and announced dinner was ready.





The adults gathered around the table and quickly took their seats. Momma sat at the opposite end of the table from Pappy. Lucian sat beside Momma in his highchair, Grandmother Ella and Grandmother Clem sat together on one side of the table, while Grandfather and Wildcat sat across from them. Missus Pebbles smoothed her dress and sat next to Wildcat. The kids gathered around the coffee table, Escelle first, then Irene, Clarence, Susie Pie and me. I unfolded my napkin and carefully arranged it on my lap, and Susie Pie did the same.





Pappy called for everyone’s attention, cleared his throat, and said grace as the noise settled. Then, we all began filling our plates. I got my share of collard greens, ham, cranberry sauce, fried corn, and a fresh hot roll, avoiding the chicken and dressing altogether.





“Aren’t you going to eat some chicken, Red-Headed Gray-Eyed Cat?” Pappy asked, arching an eyebrow.





Raw anger boiled inside me, and I slapped my hand on the coffee table. “I’m not going to eat those chickens after you killed—”





“Watch yourself, Red-Headed Gray-Eyed Cat.” Pappy’s midnight eyes blazed. “Don’t let these good folks see you get your fanny whupped.”





I glanced at the table and saw everyone gazing at their plates. Except Momma, who glared at Pappy. I tried not to burst into tears, but they came anyway. Susie Pie patted my hand as I wiped my cheek with my other hand.





“Earl, you will do no such thing to that girl. You hear me?” Grandmother Ella curled her lips. “Leave her alone.”





Grandfather also backed me. “If she doesn’t like chicken, let her be.”





“I’m confused. What happened?” Missus Pebbles dared to ask with wide eyes.





“Little Ella saw her father killing the chickens yesterday,” Momma sighed, clearing her throat. “I’m afraid it traumatized her.”





“Oh, dear!” Missus Pebbles put her fork down. “No child that young should’ve watched that.”





“She came out there on her own.” Pappy reared back with a hint of guilt in his eyes. “I certainly didn’t make her.”





 Grandmother Clem banged her fork on her tin cup. “Can we eat and enjoy the holiday, please?”





“I’m with Clem.” Grandmother Ella nodded as she rearranged her napkin on her lap.





“Fine, it’s not like I was trying to ruin anyone’s holiday, Mama!” Pappy grabbed a chicken wing from his plate and bit into it. Everyone started eating, and soon, lively chatter followed as if nothing had happened.





Susie Pie leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m with you. I’m not going to eat that chicken either,” she grinned.





“Thank you.” I smiled, appreciative of her support.





We ate until our bellies were stuffed and danced to Ma Rainey’s music for the rest of the afternoon. Old Dick chewed on chicken bones, and Whiskers lapped up milk. The grown-ups played cards, drank homemade brew, and took turns telling each other tall tales. It turned out to be a lovely Thanksgiving holiday.

			

	


			
				


	

		
Write a sequel to my novel, Leaving Henry. Leaving Henry currently selling on Amazon.
	

				

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If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?