100 Years Ago

Hello Everyone! It seems time is flying by, yet some days it seems to stand still as we anticipate when our lives will be back to normal as we catch glimpses of hope navigating through this pandemic.  Hope everyone is safe and well!

Some of you may know that I started writing and posting to my blog when I participated in Blogbattle.  Through the Blogbattle community I was introduced to different genres from the other writers.  I would leave comments like I could NEVER write a historical fiction, or a western.  Well that prompted a challenge from our host Rachael, she challenged me to write a western.  I didn’t do it right away, but I eventually did it, and actually enjoyed it.  Though I still stood on the belief that I couldn’t do a historical or period piece.  Well low and behold, the Blogbattle guidelines were revamped and a not only was a word prompt provided, but a genre as well. So, the day arrived when the genre was Historical Fiction, and I gave it a shot. I said all this to say. . .

I would like to share with you my one and only Historical Fiction story.

I am reposting this story because on August 26th Women’s Equality Day is celebrated in the US to commemorate the 1920 adoption of the Nineteenth Amendment, which guarantees women the right to vote, and this year marks the 100th Anniversary. This story was originally written in February 2017, as we settled in after a memorable election year with our first Woman Nominated for President and on the ballot.  So, at that time I thought it fitting to do a historical fiction about the Suffrage Movement. And here we stand on the edge of history again, as our first woman of color has been nominated for Vice President. We’ve come a long way! #girlpower

When I did a search for my research for this story, a woman named Carrie Chapman Catt came up. She was a suffragist, peace activist and feminist leader who led the women’s rights movement for more than 25 years culminating in the adoption of the Nineteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution in 1920. That is the point in history I decided to write about.  Carrie Chapman Catt married a wealthy engineer named George Catt, which allowed her to spend a good part of each year on the road campaigning for women’s suffrage.  At this point in history, Carrie was much older than I depicted in the story, so that is what makes it historical fiction 😉. I hope you enjoy my fictional story, about a real historical figure. The word prompt given for this Story/Blogbattle was “Adore.”

1920’s Lingo:

Bushwa:  bullshit

Bearcat: a lively, spirited woman, possibly with a fiery streak

 

For Suffrage’s Sake

Henry walks into George’s office early Monday morning like he has done for the past ten years.  Being longtime friends and then business partners, they discuss business first and then catch up as friends do.

“We’ve missed you down at the club.” Henry takes a seat in front of George’s desk.

“I’ll get back there soon, been busy.”

“Been busy throwing good money after bad, helping your wife fight the good fight?” Henry not holding back on the sarcasm.

George glares over the top rims of his glasses. “Be careful Henry.”

“Well the talk is, that if that bearcat of a wife of yours had children to take care of she wouldn’t have time to stir up trouble.” Henry leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

George removes his glasses and sits back. “Frankly, it is no one’s business what my wife and I decide to do or not do.”

Pointing with his glasses still in hand. “Henry, it is that kind of thinking that will not move this country forward.  Look what the women have done for our business, while our men were out fighting the war.  Where would we be, if it weren’t for them?  I’ll tell you where we wouldn’t be, we wouldn’t be sitting in a lush country club spouting off bushwa.”

Henry leans back in his chair, hands raised in surrender, “I’m just letting you know what’s been said.  Can’t say that I agree with it all, can’t say I disagree on some.  I personally feel a woman’s place is in the home, where she can care for the children, and take care of the little things I don’t have to be bothered with.  Leave the important things to the men, like working and voting.  What does a woman know about government, or politics?  My wife has no interest in that sort of thing, how could she possibly make an educated choice when voting?”

George raises his voice slightly. “She can’t, Henry! Because you won’t let her.”

He sets his glasses down and folds his hands in front of him calming himself.  “I admire what my wife is doing, she is bright, resilient and she speaks up for those women who can’t.  Yes, women are great keepers of the home, and it’s that expertise in maintaining the home and nurturing the family that would improve politics and our society.  When the good Lord created Eve, he used the rib for a reason.  She was not taken from his feet to be under him, but from his side to stand beside him and support him, just as we are to support them.”

Henry mumbles under his breath. “Yes and look how well that turned out.”

Just then the whistle blows as a sign of the changing of the shift on the factory floor.  Henry’s cue to get to his own office to start his day.  George puts the conversation out of his mind and doesn’t give it another thought as the demands of his day are upon him.  He doesn’t fault Henry his opinions, he knows some people will never change.

~ ♥~

George arrives home and is greeted by his wife.  Carrie has had a busy day herself, but looks forward to the time they spend talking about their day. Even after all these years when he sees his wife he is awestruck at her beauty.  It’s like he is looking at her for the first time.  “How was your day Mr. Catt?” Looking at him with a playful grin.

Before he answers he walks up to her, holds her face in his hands, and kisses her like they have been away from each other for days.

“Hello my love. Well, it seems that it is a public scandal the way I adore you.”

“Whatever do you mean Georgie?” Laughing and using the pet name she has given him.

He takes her by the hand and leads her to the parlor to sit comfortably on the sofa.  He sits first, and as she is about to take the seat next to him; he pulls her towards him so that she sits on his lap.  With a giggle of delight, she settles in to hear what he has to say.  Oh, how she loves this part of the day.

He recounts the conversation he had with Henry that morning.  She listens to every word he says, nodding occasionally, as he subconsciously laces his fingers with hers, or plays with the lace on her collar.

“It’s such a shame there are small minded people such as Henry, still, to this day, even after all we have accomplished thus far.”

“Well my dear, it is hard for some people to change their minds even when the change is happening right before their eyes.”

“Oh Georgie, we are so close to gaining the voting rights for all women in this country.  The sacrifices some of the women have made is truly extraordinary.  It has been an honor to be a part of something so momentous.”

He pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “You, my darling, are extraordinary, and all that you have sacrificed and accomplished makes me adore you even more.  This Women’s Right Movement will propel this country to greatness.”

Carrie listens yet in her mind she visualizes what things will be like in 10 or 20 years. When she thinks even further in the future, her eyes widen, and she sits up straight.  “Oh George, dare I dream that one day there may be a Woman President?”

He rubs his thumb along her cheek. “My love, the American dream belongs to all of us.”

Her eyes sparkling, she gives him a kiss.  “Can you imagine what this country will be like in 100 years?”

“My dearest Carrie, I am certain it will be a sight to behold.”

 

© 2017 – Revised 2020  Carrie Ann Alexis

“It is a public scandal the way I adore you” – Oscar Wilde

“The American dream belongs to all of us” – Kamala Harris

 

 

Long Time No Blog

Hello!! Hope everyone is doing well and staying healthy. My family had been hunkering down during our stay-at-home orders, and even as things are opening back up, we are still being cautious.  Being that we live with my mom, and since I am self-employed, I don’t want to take the chance of getting sick, and not be able to work, or get my mom sick. I was fortunate enough to be able to continue to work from home with my bookkeeping business.  A few of my clients had to shut down temporarily, but it hasn’t been too bad for me. I was able to enjoy a slower pace for the last few months, so I am grateful for that.  My son Ben didn’t miss a beat with school, I did however enjoy all the funny home school memes that cropped up on social media.  Too funny, though I could fully understand the frustrations from the parents thrusted into it!

As if 2020 wasn’t hard enough, I had recently read an article about the Cicadas 17-year return! I was like are you frickin’ kidding me? Thank God they are returning to the south, being that I experienced them when they were here the last time, I don’t think my nerves could handle it now. So, I have decided to share with you a story I wrote a few years ago that is based on my real experience. Needless to say, the kids and I freaked out when we saw thousands of them all perched on the blades of grass in our yard. They literally just appeared one morning, all of them, all at once! My oldest son filled his super-soaker water gun and open fired on them, and they did. not. move.  The noise is just as I describe and can produce a sound in excess of 100 decibels, a loud rock concert measures in at 120 decibels.  My mom did not believe me when I told her the noise was constant and how loud it was until she experienced it herself.  This went on for weeks, and we stayed indoors for the most part.  So, without further ado . . .

Rhythm is Gonna Get You

I start my day early like I always do. With coffee and newspaper in hand, I step out on my deck to enjoy the early morning quietness before work. My yard is my haven, my sanctuary, the place I retreat to for peace and quiet. My job on the floor at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange is anything but peaceful. I stand up, take a deep breath of fresh air, and set my things down on the patio table. Stepping off the deck to check on my hanging planters, I near the grass. Something was odd, different. Yes, it was taller than normal, and at the top of my to do list for the weekend. But as I crouch down, I notice a large insect resting on the tip of a grass blade. As my eyes adjust, there are actually thousands of them, all balancing gracefully on the grass tips.  Unlike flies, they are undaunted by my presence or sudden movement as I step back. Returning to the patio table to drink my coffee, I open the newspaper, my attention drawn to a headline that reads 17-YEAR ABSENCE BILLIONS OF CICADAS TO DESCEND ON THE MIDWEST. Skimming over the article, I peer out at the scene before me, thinking, yep, they’re here. I go to work, without another thought to this unpleasant intrusion upon my haven.

Little did I know that this would be the day from hell.  I lost a boatload of money for one of my biggest clients, I’m lucky I didn’t lose my job.  Damn, I haven’t made a rookie mistake like that in 17 years.  My boss is being generous, he requests I take a mandatory vacation.  One to clear my head so I can get back in the game.  I’ve seen it happen to many of my colleagues, never thought I’d be one of them.  I stayed alert, stayed sharp, but this unexpected turn of the market came out of nowhere, I wasn’t the only one who lost big.

I spend the first 45 minutes of my drive home in silence to decompress.  The last leg of my trip, I crank up the tunes until I pull into my driveway greeted by the sweet sounds of nature that my overpriced mortgage affords me.

I pull up and turn off the ignition.  I pause, it isn’t quiet.  What I hear is something I’ve never heard before.  It is a loud hum, a buzzing kind of sound, yet it is very melodic, it isn’t made by one, but rather a legion.  The sound reverberates from the trees, the volume ebbs and flows like the swell of waves coming on to shore.  I notice my grass is no longer covered with insects.  Just like the article said, they retreat into the trees and make a lot of noise, this won’t be so bad.

I walk into the house, expecting to be hit with cool air, but I’m not.  I don’t hear the central air unit running and check the thermostat.  It’s set on 68, but it reads almost 83 as the indoor temp.  Just what I need, I’ll deal with that tomorrow, I’ll just open some windows.

All evening, and well into the night, the cadence of the cicada’s musicality serenades me.  But finally, by about 11 p.m., as if some great maestro waved his wand, it stops.  The silence is deafening.  Good I can get some sleep.  Oh, there were a few interruptions throughout the night, occasionally one rogue cicada buzzed just to be heard, like a petulant child.  But for the most part quiet.

The next morning is a different story.  With the rising of the sun, the cicadas awoke, somewhat discombobulated.  There was no melodic tune.  It was more sporadic, creating a cacophony that I thought would make my ears bleed.

I make several calls trying to get a heating and cooling guy out today, no such luck.  It won’t be until the first of the week. It is what it is, I move on with my day. I go outside to cut the grass, first checking to be sure none of the insects are still there, all clear.  With the lawnmower humming, I begin my trek across the yard.  The cicadas must be drawn to the sound of the mower, they begin to swarm around me landing on my arms and back.  They don’t bite or sting, they are just annoying, so much so I have to go back inside.  As the sun begins to set, the dissonance turns into a melodic lullaby.

Several days pass, the constant sound makes me irritable and fidgety.  My best friend and colleague calls and texts several times, leaving messages just to check on me.  Each time the phone rings or pings with an incoming message, I feel like I could jump out of my skin.  I don’t return his calls, my text replies are brief. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone.   It’s as if the cicada’s rhythm controls me.  During the day, I’m agitated and unable to focus, but as the evening comes to a close, the lull calms me.  A Google search of these annoying invaders gives me an article that says they are good to eat, even includes a recipe, hmm.

The following afternoon, I fire up the grill and prepare myself a nice meal.  Just as I prepare to dig into my barbecue feast, my phone chirps with an incoming message.

Dude, haven’t heard from you, what’s up?

Nothing

You OK?

Fine

Thought I might stop by

No, don’t

Why not?

Not a good idea. Stay away.

The next thing I know, he’s pounding on my door.  “Martin, it’s me Greg, open up.”

I’m in no rush to open the door. My greeting lacks any enthusiasm “Hey Greg.” I flop back down on the couch.

“Dude, what the hell? Ya look like shit.”

Looking down at my clothes I can’t remember what day I put them on. I scratch the stubble on the side of my face.  Hmmm I should probably shave.

“Martin!” Greg abruptly says so loud I’m snapped back to reality.

“How can you stand this noise?” He rubs his hand down his face.

“You get used to it.  It’s not so bad at night.” I stand up but forget why and look around trying to remember what I was going to do.

Greg must have noticed my restlessness.  “I’m getting you out of here. Find your shoes I’ll grab some of your clothes, you can crash at my place for a while. Why is it so friggin’ hot in here?”

“Air conditioner is broken.” I scan the room for my shoes.

As I lace up my tennis shoes, Greg comes back down with my gym bag full, “C’mon, let’s go.”

We are only a couple of blocks away from my house, when I notice a change in the air.  The noise, it’s gone.  When I get to Greg’s house, the first thing I do is take a shower.  As the hot water streams down my body, I feel like I am waking up from a dream.  The events of the last couple of days run through my mind like a bad quality movie.

When I’m dressed, I walk into the kitchen. “Let’s eat,” Greg comes in from outside, with a couple of steaks on a plate.  The delicious aroma causes my stomach to grumble. Makes me wonder if I did in fact eat barbecued cicadas.  Nah, I couldn’t of.

© 2017 Carrie Ann

Happy Easter!

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Matthew 28:5-6:

“The angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”

Happy Pi Day!

Taking some time today to share and update one of my older posts.  With all that is going on in the world, just wanted to get my mind off of things and do something I miss and enjoy . . . blogging.  Enjoy these fun facts, have some pie, and be well!

First…what is Pi and why the funny symbol?

The number π is a mathematical constant representing the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. It’s an irrational number, meaning that it can’t be represented by a common fraction.  The decimal places never end, and they never settle into a permanent repeating pattern.

π is the Greek symbol for the letter “p.” It was taken from the Greek word for “perimeter.”

Now some fun facts about Pi:

The value of pi has now been calculated to more than two trillion decimal places.

The world record for memorizing the value of pi was set by Chao Lu of China in 2005. He correctly recited from memory its first 67,890 digits.

It took him 24 hours and four seconds at a rate of 47 digits a minute without food or toilet breaks.th

He had planned to recite 93,000 digits but made a mistake at the 67,891st.

If you write “3.14” on a piece of paper and hold it up to a mirror, it looks like the word “PIE”.  (so yeah, I actually did this…it’s a bit of a stretch, but you can see it…kinda sorta) 🙂

Albert Einstein was born on Pi Day: March 14, 1879.

The first six digits of pi (314159) appear in order at least six times among the first 10 million decimal places of pi.

You only really need 39 decimal places of pi for computing the circumference of a circle – your error will be no greater than the radius of a hydrogen atom.  I think we all know an atom is pretty small.

Things like this with numbers just fascinates me.  I think if I really applied myself, I could be a real math geek, LOL.

Now for the good stuff…PIE!!

Here is a delicious easy pie recipe that can brighten any day!

Ingredients:ca0fc804-2e04-4bcf-a559-5817b2246374
2 envelopes  DREAM WHIP Whipped Topping Mix
2-3/4 cups  cold milk, divided
1 tsp.  vanilla
2 pkg.  (3.9 oz. each) JELL-O Chocolate Instant Pudding
1  baked pie crust (9 inch), cooled

BEAT whipped topping mix, 1 cup milk and vanilla in large bowl with mixer on high speed 6 min. or until soft peaks form.

ADD remaining milk and dry pudding mixes; beat on low speed until blended. Beat on high speed 2 min., stopping occasionally to scrape bottom and side of bowl. Spoon into crust.

REFRIGERATE 4 hours or until firm.

HAPPY PI DAY!!

Links to the info about Pi:

http://www.9news.com/story/life/2015/03/13/pi-day-facts-figures-irrational-number/24710313/

http://www.express.co.uk/life-style/top10facts/384163/Top-10-facts-about-pi