Rusty’s December Newsletter 2020 …


Image courtesy of Google ©

 

Rusty’s December Newsletter 2020 …

Welcome everyone! Here’s hoping you all enjoyed a lovely Christmas with family, friends, or however you chose to enjoy it. Christ is the reason for the season, thus the title “Christ’mas” – celebration of his birth and it should never be overlooked or forgotten – regardless of those who wish differently. They can wish till the cows come home, and it will never change, alter, or discredit His name, his birth, or his importance.

Courtesy of Don McCauley & Rusty Blackwood © 2016

 

This has been a very difficult year, for everyone, and I must say I am not sorry to see it go, however, I feel we must be strong to face whatever is to come. My generation, and those after me have never known unrest. In Canada we have lived free and untethered because of those before us who fought to secure our Freedoms and Rights. Not all citizens of countries can say that nor enjoy it. We must listen to those who managed to escape those tethers who are trying to warn us now.

We now find ourselves in another lockdown. More businesses will be lost, more families set adrift in a sea of unknown, more shelves are becoming empty, and prices continue to rise. Books are now considered nonessential, therefor authors. However, I feel books are now more important than ever before. People need escape. They require a path that leads them into fantasy, a fictional world, a reason to smile or react however the text they are reading touches them.

I am still trying to finish Return to Autumn, the follow-up to my 5-star, multi-award-winning romantic drama, The Perils of Autumn that I released in late January of 2019.

© 2019-20 All Rights Reserved by Author

Little did I know what was ahead. Little did many of us know, though there were signs. I find it difficult to reach that certain mindset that is required to write, at least write well and not just scribble anything for the sake of page filling and page count. However, I am nearing the end of Return to Autumn and it is my hope that I can finish it. I know many readers, no-doubt many of you that are reading this Newsletter, are planning to read it once it is available. At this point in time I can’t say when that will be, but I am hoping it will be at some point in 2021. Unless things drastically change, I will only be able to promote it online and that will be the only place it will be available to either download, or order. Brick & mortar bookstores are not promoting their local authors through public events. There are no literary events anywhere, and it makes it next to impossible for authors to function and I don’t feel that I am speaking only for myself. I know how disgusted other authors are as well.

Words of encouragement would be welcomed by all of us. As you can tell, I am downhearted, but I’m not down for the count. Because of what continues here and everywhere else, there is nothing literary to speak about. I often wonder why I continue to write and produce this monthly Newsletter. I rarely receive feedback, comments, questions, or anything of the like and as this is the last Newsletter to complete the year, I will ponder on whether to continue writing them in the New Year.

I became a serious writer in 2001, almost 20 years now, and published my first title in 2009. To date, I have written 12 titles. I am proud of each one and they have grown better with each one written. They are part of me, words from my head, and they will forever be. Knowing that is comforting. I love to write. It has always been entertainment for myself, and I am both glad and thankful that my work has given my readers joy as well. One bright light to speak about, is my work is in the process of going to audio. When I know more, I will post it, so please watch for that down the road.

I am going to close this Newsletter with another chapter from Return to Autumn.

*Working cover for Return to Autumn

Chapter 75

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Autumn Revisits Her Passion

 Back at Landon Manor, Autumn had finished Drew’s laundry, and without hesitation decided to trek to the stables for a long-overdue visit with her champion Ladies Pal. She realized that Cyril would be submerged at the investigative agency for the better part of the morning, knowing it allowed time to satisfy her craving to possibly return to the back of her long-legged, stalwart equine, and hopefully the jump course still set up.

It was a chilly walk to the stables. Autumn didn’t mind the snow, but she had recently found the cold chilling her bones. The stables were a comfortable temperature and Autumn appreciated that the second she stepped through the door. It took her but a second to arrive to her destined box stall where she was greeted by a welcoming neigh.

“You’re looking fab, my dear boy,” she praised as she embraced Pal’s long, muscular neck. “I have missed you so much. It seems like I’m destined to my motherly chores in the house — and I love every second – don’t get me wrong, but I so miss our wonderful adventures.”

The tall Warmblood brayed in receipt of the words gracing his perked ears. He missed her too, along with the activities they had always enjoyed together. He could not verbally ask, but if he could, he would enquire when they could return to the ring. He loved jumping, he had from the time he’d been broke to saddle. But throughout the many times he had performed in public, he had never enjoyed it as much as when Autumn had been upon his back, praising him with her encouraging voice as they soared as one.

“I can only imagine the thoughts you must be having at this moment, Pal,” Autumn relayed as she lovingly displayed a huge juicy apple on the palm of her hand. “You know, you don’t have to speak verbally, for I can understand your movements, your soft braying, as well as the way you gently push against my face with your soft, kissable nose. I fell in love with you the second we were introduced. You carry yourself so proudly, like you are a king commanding your subject’s attention.” And rubbing his neck vigorously, she continued, “Oh, I love you dearly. You know, I do have time this morning, so you wait right here while I rush to change into my riding gear for a go about the course. And you hold to your thoughts, for I’ll be right back!”

Agnes had just finished doing up the breakfast dishes when the excited Autumn burst into the warm kitchen. Her cheeks and nose carried the fanciful etchings of Jack Frost’s artful finger, but her spirit was as warm as a toasty fire.

“I say, Mrs., just in from the stables?” Agnes asked cheerfully. “I wondered where you had gotten to, though I should have known. By the look of your face, I would say tis a bit nippy outside.”

“You thought right,” Autumn affirmed, rubbing her hands together energetically. “I was visiting Pal, and decided while I have the time, I would take him around the jump course. I just came in to change my clothes. It’s been so long I’m sure he thought I had forgotten him, though his cheerful response tells me I don’t need to worry about that. Abby is in class with Miss Appleby, and I’ll check in on Drew to be sure all’s well before I come downstairs. Oh, this is going to be wonderful,” and she winked at the housekeeper before tearing up the back stairs.

Arriving in her bed suite, she went to a huge armoire located on the back wall where she chose an exercise ensemble consisting of fleece-lined, hunter green riding pants paired with a heavily lined, long-sleeved jersey turtleneck. Her high-topped, brown suede riding boots would complete the look. Before leaving the room, she chose a pair of fawn-hued suede riding gloves that fit her hands like a second skin. Tiptoeing to the yellow crib beside the bed, she inwardly smiled when her eyes swept over her baby son deep in dreamland. His rosebud mouth twitched slightly at the edges, as if he were about to break into a smile, making her wonder if he were dreaming, and if so, what could it be about. She silently wondered, Do babies dream? If they do, what would they dream about? They haven’t experienced anything besides eating, bathing and … well … I hardly think they would even know what was happening other than it would bring relief, making them feel better. A vision of her mother suddenly came into her thoughts. Do you think babies dream, Momma? I don’t doubt for a second you would have an answer if you were here. This is the only way I can talk to you and … well … I hope you can hear me. Drew is precious, isn’t he? My life is truly complete. It’s everything you could have ever wanted for me. Oh, Momma, I know there are a few unanswered questions regarding the problems going on, but nothing can be changed even if they were to be answered. Cyril is consumed with it. I can’t blame him, and I hope the PI he’s meeting with will be able to help. William is doing much better. He’s gaining strength every day, but I’m sure he too will feel better when Cyril acquires the answers he so desperately needs. I look forward to hearing about his first meeting on his return. Now, I’m on my way to ride Ladies Pal for a bit. I hope you come with me.

Autumn checked the baby monitor, gave Drew a quick hug, making sure not to wake him, before heading out the door. She arrived in the kitchen to Agnes, stating, “Not to worry, Miss Autumn, I shall keep an ear open, and an astute eye on the little master. You enjoy your time with your horse and, be careful.”

Autumn smiled at the last two words of the housekeeper’s salutation. Then again, she couldn’t expect anything else after her last time in the stables when she’d made the mistake of mounting a stallion she had been warned against. That had not turned out as planned. But this time was different. She would be mounting a horse she knew and had experienced countless times. He never disappointed her, nor would he.

Arriving to his stall, Autumn announced, “I’m back, Pal! Let’s get you tacked up, and we’ll have a right-old-rip, as Cyril often says. I’ve no doubt Manfred is keeping you exercised, but it’s not quite the same friendship as you and I share, is it?”

Pal whinnied in compliance to her question. It was obvious he adored Autumn, showing his affection as she prepared him for the course. In a short amount of time, he was ready, and donning her riding helmet, Autumn led him to the jump course.

“Now, my handsome friend, let’s have some fun.”

It felt splendid to settle upon the supple leather of the English saddle made especially for Ladies Pal. It was the same saddle that he wore when they won their first blue ribbon together. That elation had never left Autumn’s memory. She could picture it now, as well as feel the excitement it brought her. She had joined The Meadow’s equestrian community that day, as Cyril had pridefully announced at the party he gave in her honour. How wonderful it was. Now that Drew was well on his way, Autumn knew she could return to the show ring when the spring events rolled around. If eyes had been present in the ring to watch her right now, they would be well-entertained as horse and rider completed the course in record time. It was as if they had never been away from it. The jumps had varied slightly to the last time they had attacked it, but the thrill was fully the same.

Autumn rode until lunch, where she ended her gaiety by rubbing Pal down. This was followed by a warm fleece lined blanket upon his back, and after giving him a short drink of water, she headed to the mansion in time to meet her husband on his return from his appointment.

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As I close this Newsletter, I would like to wish each of you a Happy, Healthy & Safe New Year!

Courtesy of Google Images ©

Rusty B.

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Comments & Responses

2 Responses so far.

  1. Bryan Minnes says:

    Hi: I read your heartfelt words on the some what lonely life of a writer. Please remember you are not alone.
    Those like you and I of a certain experience, earned in living a long life and yearning for a time of belief in the culture of freedom and personal responsibility, are also living in a lonely place.
    I am finding the social and political environment we are living in dry and baron, lacking in respect for values and traditions that I cherish.
    I felt your words of sadness regarding the sacrifices of those who came before us, the gifts of freedom and security, that we are disrespecting and wasting today.
    None-the-less, theses things are cyclical, and while we might not live to witness it, I want to believe that in the end we will prevail.
    The trajectory of man’s history is never a straight line.
    With wishes of Love for a Happy New Year. Bryan

    • admin says:

      Hi Byran, and many thanks for your uplifting comment.

      We are of the same generation, experienced many of the same things and share many values that those after us have never done in the same way as we did. I miss those days greatly and what I resent the most, is government stepping where they don’t belong, and arrogantly ignoring people’s lives, choices, and freedoms given to them by God. Each of them will come to rue the day they decided to step where they have while laughing in His face. Thank you again for commenting, and helping me to realize I’m not alone in my thoughts, and feelings.

      Stay safe & well,
      Rusty

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