Have a Marlis Day!

It was “Be Kind to Animals Week” and my second grade teacher asked us to bring our pets to school for a pet show. Living on a busy city street in Vincennes, I couldn’t keep a pet alive, so my grandmother loaned me two kittens for the day. When Mom saw the picture she said, “The teacher must like you, Marlis; she seated you right in the middle!”

How I envied Nancy, who won the blue ribbon, with her terrier Topsy. (see Nancy holding ribbon) Nancy always won. She was the May Day queen; I was an attendant. She won first place in the safety poster contest, which I was certain her first-grade teacher mother had made. My parents handed me a box of crayons and wished me luck. I still came in second.

Topsy sat up, walked upright, and shook hands. Nancy brought a little suitcase of dollclothes and dressed Topsy. The judges loved her. My borrowed kittens slept through it all. I have tried to remain unaffected by the whole thing, but it may have some bearing on the fact that I now have a terrier, Gypsy, (Yeah, I know the name is similar)  and she does WAY more tricks than Topsy. She wins ribbons, trophies, and cash prizes when I enter her in pet shows. How I wish Nancy could be in the audience someday.  My counselor/sister says I have carried this unhealthy issue too long, so I’ll never bring it up again. (By the way, did I mention Gypsy jumps through hoops, weaves through my legs as I walk, plays leapfrog, dances, twirls, and plays dead when shot with a toy gun?) If only we could have a rematch….

As a youngster, I loved to sit on the front porch at night and listen to the grown-ups talk. My favorite story was the old unsolved murder that happened in our community some fifty years ago. Many years later,  I wrote  Why Johnny Died and it was published by Sterling House Publishing. (1999). The editors encouraged me to write another mystery, claiming a series sold better than a single. I tried to think of a good plot and the old unsolved mystery came to mind.  And it happened in my own community! In fact, my home sits on part of the victim’s original farm. I decided to dig into the past. I interviewed some seniors who remembered the crime and took lots of notes. I visited the scene of the crime and shuddered as I imagined this 70-year- old teacher being shot, his body thrown into a hog pen.  I talked to people who knew his sons, accused of the crime and then acquitted. I visited the victim’s grave and found the date. Then, I went to the library and read the old newspaper accounts and trial records. I was so enamored with the case, I decided to update it, change names and places, and have Margo Brown solve it.  

In Death of a Hoosier Schoolmaster, amateur sleuth Margo Brown finds a gun buried in her garden. She learns about the murder of the former property owner and is certain she has found the murder weapon. As she and her sidekick, Roxie, investigate this cold case, someone thwarts their every move. Margo must solve this present day mystery before she can piece together the puzzle of the past. The reader gets a healthy dose of humor, Hoosier hospitality, backyard barbecues, Fourth of July celebrations, and even the county fair. Of course, my book is fiction, but inspired by an actual murder. It was originally pubished in 2002 and now has a new cover and is available as an eBook. If you haven’t read this one yet and own a Kindle, Nook, or Ipad, I hope you’ll order it from amazon.com (It’s only $2.99!) Be prepared for colorful characters, a ride of wild twists and turns, and a surprise ending!

This book received favorable reviews from Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, and The Midwest Book Review. I would love to hear from you!

I was thrilled when Trisha Pfau invited me to visit her fifth-grade class at Tenth Street Elementary School in Jasper, Indiana.  Mrs. Pfau had read The Secret of Bailey’s Chase to her students and they wanted to meet the author. I loaded my bookbag with bookmarks for all the children, trivia and discussion questions, candy for prizes, and a free book for the teacher. I set the GPS on my car and off I went.

It was Friday the 13th of April, but no bad luck happened on that day. The children were attentive and courteous. They were eager to discuss the book, asked good questions, and all ended up with candy. We talked about reading and writing in general, settings, plots, literary terms, and characters. Together we created a character named Bob and gave him some interesting characteristics. We put the students into groups and did a point-of-view writing exercise, with each team writing a segment of a story and reading it aloud. These Jasper writers were very creative.

One thoughtful girl (second from left in second row) had written a small book for me. I treasure it. Mrs. Pfau is now reading the sequel, Back to Bailey’s Chase to her class. I hope they enjoy it and will email me their comments.

Mrs. Pfau has already invited me back next year to do it again with her new class, so until then I wish her and her students well, and thank them for inviting me to their lovely school in Jasper.

God bless those teachers who make time to read to their classes!

I was born in the middle of World War II. One of my earliest memories was my mother teaching me to add “and God Bless Uncle Bill” to my regular bedtime prayer. I didn’t know my dad’s younger brother but understood he was in a dangerous place and needed our prayers. I remember the excitement when he came home, the hugging and crying, the opening of a duffle bag filled with gifts for all of us. It was 1945 and I was three.

Even though he was fighting on the front lines in Germany, Uncle Bill remembered me when my third birthday drew near. He picked up a piece of a broken windshield from a German plane, carved it into a perfect heart, drilled a hole for a chain, and scratched my name on one side, his name and the date on the back. He found some red ink to fill in the letters, and mailed it home. Mom put it on a chain and it became my most prized possession. I wore it to school on special occasions and always on my birthday, March 24. When I made my recent birthday trip to Disney World I wore it proudly and remembered my uncle, Lance Black, who we called Uncle Bill. ( I think my brother Johnny had trouble with L’s and had earlier called him Uncle Yantz, so the adults decided we’d just call him by his boyhood nickname.)

And we called him “Uncle Bill” until he died of a heart attack at 70. He had a quick smile and loved to laugh. A good husband, father, and grandfather, he was also a very gifted man who could build anything. A whiz at electronics and motors, there was nothing he couldn’t  take apart and fix and invented tools to aid him in his work. He was a sweet man and we miss him.

To celebrate my birthday this year, my daughter and her family accompanied my hubby and me on a Disney cruise followed by three days at Disney World. Getting older is unavoidable, unless… well, I won’t even go there. Anyway, my birthday was spectacular! We flew to Orlando, boarded the Disney Dream and spent four nights being entertained and treated like royalty. It was the first cruise for Stephanie, Joe, Chase, and Gracie, and it had been years since we’d been to Disney World.

We spent two days at sea, one day shopping at Nassau in the Bahamas, and one day on the beach of the fabulous Castaway Island. Our rooms and balconies connected and they issued special cell phones to us, making it easy to find each other among the 4000 on the ship. The dining was superb and the nightly entertainment delightful and suited for families. I especially enjoyed the magician and the fireworks. We didn’t have time to do all the activites offered, but enjoyed the pools and sunny deck area. We all rode the Aqua-duck, an enclosed clear water slide that ran all the way round the huge ship, then out over the ocean, finally dumping us into a shallow pool. Wow!

We posed for this family portrait on our way to dinner one evening.

At the Magic Kingdom, Joe hurried off and got “fast-passes” for us, which enabled us to see all the shows and ride everything we chose without long waiting lines. I didn’t have time to think about getting older as I shot down waterfalls, zoomed through space in a “Star Wars” ship, or hung on for dear life on the roller coasters. We watched Indiana Jones shoot a scene, gasped at crashes and bombings at the Hollywood Theme Park, and enjoyed Disney stage performances.

Note how I’m hanging on for dear life on the Splash Mountain picture! No arms in air for me.

I will always remember this as the best birthday of my life and thank my family for taking me. Mostly, I thank God for giving me the health and family and opportunity to do this. If you want to see more pictures, check out my page on facebook. Thanks for reading my blog!  Hugs, Marlis

MY TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO-GOOD, VERY BAD NIGHT BY GYPSY ROSE DAY

It was a normal evening and I sat by Gram as she watched TV. It must have been ten, because she told me it was time to go outside for a pit stop and then to bed. Like a good dog, I went outside. In the back yard, I smelled something strange. I crept toward the strange smell. I saw something that looked like a black and white cat. I barked and told it to go home –this was my territory. It didn’t run. It stood on its hands, stuck its feet into the air, and made a terrible smell. I decided to bite it so it would go away. When I tried to bite it, it bit ME and it wouldn’t let me go! It sunk its teeth into my chin and hung on. “OW!” I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t let me go. The more I shook the worse it smelled. I think I shook every bit of stink out of it. I felt sick. UGH! My eyes burned. I yelped for help. Gram heard me and came running toward me. It was dark. I tried to go to her, but this crazy, stinky animal had its teeth in me and I could hardly walk. When I finally got close to Gram, I was walking in circles, dragging this stupid animal. Gram yelled, “Something is attacking Gypsy!” Gramps thought it was a raccoon and got his gun. “BANG!” The noise was so loud I felt for sure I was dead. The stinky animal let go and ran away. Then Gramps yelled, “Get back! It’s a SKUNK!” Then Gram and Gramps both jumped into the back door. I tried to get in, too, but they closed the door. I jumped high in the air so they’d know how much I wanted to get into the house, to snuggle into my safe bed. But they didn’t understand. I went around to the garage and tried that door. But still, they wouldn’t let me in. They threw towels out the door and put out my food and water dishes. I was so scared. I threw up and then rubbed my face on the towels trying to make my eyes stop burning. After a while, I slept in the old dog house in our garage, but I was soooooo mad at Gram and Gramps. The next day, Gramps gave me a bath with a special shampoo and fed me bacon and eggs. I think he was sorry for locking me out and for nearly making my heart stop when he shot the gun. I got to come back into the house, into my cozy bed in the sunroom. Gram had candles burning everywhere. I guess they don’t like skunks either. Personally, I hope I never see another skunk in my life. I still dream about the terrible night. Gram says when I sleep by her in her chair in the evenings, I twitch and growl and my feet try to run.  I guess that’s what nightmares can do to a Jack Russell Terrier, even though we are very brave dogs. She says I’m having “Post Dramatic Stress Syndrome.” She and Gramps still sniff me and say it’s almost gone. (Two weeks & three baths later!)  Here’s how the terrible skunk looked.

Your pal, Gypsy

PS- Stay away from skunks! They are evil!

That is…Ireland Elementary School in Ireland, Indiana. A few weeks ago I received an email from a teacher there, who told me the fifth grade teachers were reading the Bailey’s Chase novels to their classes. She asked if I would come for a visit. Of course, I could; it’s something I love to do.

I met with the 75 fifth graders and their teachers in the group room of their lovely little school. The children were attentive and courteous. We discussed the books, reading and writing in general, and character development. I asked them who reminded them the most of Sparky Bailey. Hands immediately pointed to the blonde girl. When I asked who made them think of Grey, they pointed to the dark-haired girl. It was no contest for who resembled Newt, the boy next door. Only one boy had reddish, spiky hair, a serious demeanor, and looked a little older than the girls.

I asked the three if I could take their picture and almost made them miss the bus. I thank the teachers at Ireland Elementary School for inviting me to visit and commend them for reading to their classes.

The old movie theater in our town is where I saw my first movie, we had our first date, and where we took our children to their first movie. Since then, it’s been vacant, a church, and is now setting up for laser tag & miniature golf.

I loved it when my parents took us to the movies, especially the Disney films. However, when it was a grown-up  movie, I had trouble staying awake. My head nodded, my eyes blurred, and I zonked out. After all, it was way past my bedtime. Once when I was just about to fall asleep, my father leaned over and whispered, “You better stay awake. If you go to sleep, we’ll just leave you here.” Horrified, I totally believed him and spent the rest of the movie devising ways to keep myself awake. Always the prankster, I imagine my dad peeked at me and laughingly told his buddies the next day how I’d swung my feet, popped myself on the forehead, and tried to hold my eyes open. Waking up in a cold, dark theater in the middle of the night was my worst nightmare. I envisioned myself wandering around the empty seats and living for days on stale popcorn and water from the fountain. I imagined my parents meeting friends on the street later and this conversation:

“How ya doing?”  “Fine, how about you?” “All good.” “Say, I see your two boys there; I thought you had a girl.” “No, just the two boys now.” “Hmm. I thought there was a girl, sorta between the boys?” “Ohhh, you must mean Marlis.” “Yes, Marlis. That was her name. I do remember her- fiesty little girl.” “Well, Marlis isn’t with us anymore.” “Oh, that’s too bad…what was it? Polio?” “Oh no, not polio. She fell asleep at the movies.” “Oh, I see. Well, you can’t have that, now can you?” “No, we couldn’t abide with that.” “Well, you have a nice day.”  “Thanks, you too. Say hello to the missus.” “Will do.”

I was pleased when we started going to the drive-in theaters, because the car always came home. I could fall asleep and no one cared. After all, we always went on “Buck Night,”so we all got in for a dollar and no money was wasted by a kid falling asleep.

On the first day my mother walked me to kindergarten. I was checked by a nurse, declared sound, and given this KGN Health Award. Mom must have thought it important, since she saved it for me along with my kindergarten workbook and first valentines. I keep them in my cedar chest and visit them every few years, inhaling the pungent cedar and recalling the distant memories. I sometimes wonder what will happen to them when I’m gone. Maybe a sentimental grandchild will claim them. I hope so.

I remember children sitting at long wooden tables, where we colored and printed our names. We played circle games, sang, and recited nursery rhymes. But mostly, I remember Miss Jane. I thought she was a big woman, but I guess everyone appears big when you’re three feet tall. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and silvery-gray hair pulled back into a loose bun. She had soft hands and always smelled like spring flowers.

In the game, she pulled me against her soft middle, my nose pressed into the fabric of her dress. She wrapped her arms around me and whispered, “Who is speaking, Marlis? Now listen carefully – it’s one of your classmates.”  Once more the chosen child recited the proper words, but I didn’t care who it was, I just loved being held close to Miss Jane’s bosomy softness, inhaling her sweet fragrance. After some coaxing, I’d mutter “Donnie? Jerry? Woody? PR?” I think I missed on purpose; I loved being in Miss Jane’s warm embrace.  In my family, the women showed affection with a swift peck on the cheek, and the men showed no affection at all. In retrospect, maybe it was my first hug and I wanted it to last forever.  For a few blissful minutes the universe was just Miss Jane and me. After a while, my teacher would gently turn me around. “Oh look, Marlis, it’s Austin!” I’d return to my place among the other children, filled with peace, and love, and all the sweetness of Miss Jane. The only picture I have is this one I clipped years ago from a newspaper honoring the teachers of yester-years in our town.

To this day, I’m a hugger. I hug my family, friends, and even my dog. I’ve been known to hug strangers at bookfairs when they speak kindly of my books.  Somehow, I think it all started with Miss Jane. May God bless the Miss Janes of the world.

I wonder what our five grandchildren will remember about coming to Gram’s and Gramps’ house for Christmas. I’m pretty certain they’ll remember the twinkling tree surrounded by a pile of brightly wrapped presents and stockings stuffed with small surprises. They’ll remember running and playing with their cousins and urging the adults to finish dinner, so they could open their gifts. They’ll probably recall the fancy cookies and candies, but forget the lovely table decorations and Christmas ham. Part of me believes they’ll always remember how Gram read Clement Moore’s famous Twas the Night Before Christmas before the first gift was opened. I’ve done it every year and the older girls recite it from memory as I read. The little ones listen, bright-eyed and eager for the unfolding magic.

But most of all, I hope they remember going to church on Christmas Eve, singing carols, lighting small candles, and their spectacular united glow in the darkened church.  And how we lit the Christ candle on the dinner table and remembered the baby Jesus in the manger before the table blessing.

I pray their childhood Christmas memories fill them with an essence of family and love. After all, God’s mighty gift to us was all about His family and His love.

Happy New Year and may “God bless us every one!”