Book Review: A Yellowstone Savage

Yellowstone coverIn 1973, when Joyce Burke drives her 1967 Volkswagen from Chicago to Yellowstone National Park, she is thrilled with the freedom of the open road, yet apprehensive about leaving all that is familiar, her family and a fiance. She has accepted a seasonal job at the park, knows no one and doesn’t even know for sure what her job will be, other than the vague description Food and Beverage Clerk. During the peak of the park season, Yellowstone employs 1,500 people. Would she fit in?

As she drives further west, her initial exuberance and confidence are challenged–her car isn’t running quite right, she’s weary, a little homesick, and wonders if she’s doing the right thing. But, she sticks with her plan. She arrives amidst the confusion of new arrivals getting their work and housing assignments.

Joyce meets her roommate and together they explore. In time they become friends with others in their same situation. They name themselves “Yellowstone Savages” and find joy in this great park with its abundance of wildlife and rugged scenery.

Author Lohse does an outstanding job of bringing the reader into her life as a fledgling in unfamiliar territory, developing into a woman of confidence and compassion. She’s game to try new things, but retains her basic values. She experiences true, lasting friendships, is given additional responsibilities at work, and learns first-hand about the beautiful but fragile life cycle of wildlife and the wonder of the spectacular landscape of Yellowstone.

I highly recommend A Yellowstone Savage: Life in Nature’s Wonderland. Lohse’s experience makes a fascinating read. This e-version is the 25th Anniversary Revised Edition and contains pictures the original book did not have. It took courage to do what the author did, and courage to write about her experiences with such honesty. The book offers great insight into Yellowstone, America’s first national park, and the behind-the-scenes stories of what it takes to maintain it.

 

Not a Pretty Sight

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Basse Health Center

From TUBOB: Two Years in West Africa with the Peace Corps

A mother and her daughter, perhaps ten years old, came into the hospital led by the dresser dispenser (pharmacist). He spoke with Sister Roberts, the head nurse who had been educated in England. The four of them went into the treatment room and the dresser dispenser left.

I heard a piercing scream and, much to my amazement, saw Sister Roberts, still screaming, run out of the room, hands flapping by her head. I left my work station and rushed in, just in time to see whitish pink roundworms pouring out of the girl’s mouth and nose. The girl continually gagged while the mother held her daughter’s head, steadying her.

Apparently, this wasn’t the first episode and was the reason the mother brought her daughter to the health center. The girl, crying, stopped gagging for the moment. About the time I entered the room, a nurse mid-wife also came in. I admired her calmness; it was a terrible sight. She asked me to stay while she talked to the dresser dispenser. I gingerly patted the girl’s back, murmmering words of comfort, but all the while terrified that she would have another episode. The nurse soon returned with piperazine tablets that the dresser dispenser had folded into a scrap of paper. The nurse gave the girl six tablets, together with water. Only this one treatment would be necessary.

The nurse explained to the mother that worms could be prevented by washing hands often, especially after using the latrine. Although this sounds pretty basic, it’s a challenge when there is no running water.

When I returned to my work station, Sister came back into the room and apologized to me. “I’m sorry, Mariama, that was terrible of me. It was just so awful. I’m already queasy with my pregnancy and….” Her voice trailed off.

I tried acting nonchalant. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Just one treatment will take care of the worms? That’s impressive.”

“Yes, just one treatment. I hope my child never does that. But if she does, I will not scream and run away. Not again.”

Book Review: The Pilot’s Wife

ThePilotsWifeAuthor Anita Shreve has added another winner to her long list of successes. The Pilot’s Wife grabbed me from the first page.

Someone knocking at your door at 3:24 in the morning is never good news. And it is bad news, unthinkable news. High School teacher Kathryn Lyon’s husband, Jack, a trans-Atlantic pilot with a plane load of passengers, crashed off the coast of Ireland. There were no survivors. The bearer of the tragic news is an airline union man, Robert Hart.

Mayhem breaks out. The media storms the house, the phone never stops ringing. Rumors start flying. But are they rumors?

Among Kathryn’s biggest worries is their daughter, Mattie, only fifteen. Jack and Mattie had a special relationship. When he was home, he made every minute with her count.

It’s Robert Hart’s job to stay with the family, help cushion the barrage of questions, answer the phone, monitor the awful, escalating situation.

Struggling through her grief and dealing with the reality of sudden widowhood, Kathryn begins pulling the threads of their life together. But something isn’t right, things don’t add up. A trip to London and eventually Ireland answers some of the questions, but then she’s left trying to deal with the truth.

The Pilot’s Wife, an Oprah’s Book Club winner, is highly suspenseful. The characters are well developed and the subject matter timely. This is a page-turner, a truly enjoyable read.

 

Working in Sub-Saharan Africa

The heat in The Gambia, in Sub-Saharan Africa, made life difficult.

When my husband Bruce and I first arrived in our village of Mansajang, where we lived for two years, women often asked me where my “hat” was, meaning head-scarf. I couldn’t imagine wearing one more thing in that heat. The African women artfully wrapped a length of cloth around their heads. Binta, a woman in our compound, tried to put one on me. With my slippery hair, a scarf wouldn’t stay on, but the effort gave us a good laugh. I had a scrap of material left over from having a dress made and I fashioned a triangular piece of cloth into a scarf that I could tie in the back. I couldn’t believe how much cooler I felt not to have the sun beating down on my head. On extremely hot days, I sometimes soaked the scarf in water before wearing it and that cooled me even more, though it quickly evaporated.

I understood why so much didn’t get done. It was difficult to work in that heat. If it wasn’t the heat, we still couldn’t do what we wanted to accomplish due to lack of supplies. At the UN shop where Bruce worked, shortages prevented projects from completion. At the Health Centre, I often couldn’t visit villages because they only had enough fuel to go on scheduled clinic treks.

At times I felt overwhelmed with the little I could do. I expressed my discouragement to Bruce. His job was actually far more frustrating than mine. Between the heat and lack of supplies, our tasks sometimes seemed overwhelming. Talking about it helped and each time we came to the same conclusion: all we could do was give it our best. We both knew our best wasn’t enough.

From: Tubob: Two Years in West Africa with the Peace Corps

Book Review: A Dog’s Purpose

dogs_purpose_smYou don’t have to be a dog fancier to enjoy A Dog’s Purpose, but if you do love dogs, you won’t want to miss this amazing book by W. Bruce Cameron. The heartwarming story brings the reader into the lives of one soul reincarnated into several dogs’ lives.

The author shows real understanding of how a dog thinks and how he views the world and his sometimes strange humans. The dog’s first character, Toby, born of a feral mother, develops the skill of survival. The soul comes back as Bailey and he learns unconditional love and loyalty. As Ellie, now a female, she learns search and rescue. Finally, as Buddy, he finds himself at a loss to find his purpose until his search brings him to his ultimate destination and fulfillment.

I’ve had dogs all my life and I found this book a fascinating study. I wish I could have read A Dog’s Purpose years ago. One of our favorite dogs was Bo, a yellow Labrador Retriever. Now that I’ve read this book, I believe Bo’s soul had been around a long time. On the other hand, our current dog, Toby, a Chocolate Lab, has a newer, undeveloped soul. Even though Toby is a very immature 10 years old, he’ll never in this life achieve the enlightenment of the older, wiser soul of his predecessor.

One of the things I loved about this book was the author’s view of how a dog interprets our vocal and body language. The bottom line, what’s in it for him, is so true to life. Yet, a wise dog will perceive what his human needs and will do everything he can to make that happen.

A dog accepts us “as is,” unconditionally. Any dog needs basic training, and perhaps even more specialized training. Still, his wisdom and depth of personality likely will depend on his past experiences. After reading A Dog’s Purpose, I now know to be more accepting, to treasure and respect my dog’s current station in life.

Author Cameron not only draws believable dog characters, his humans are also realistic and well developed. A Dog’s Purpose is a memorable book.

A Picture for Tombong

Ch-22-RGB 2From:  TUBOB: Two Years in West Africa with the Peace Corps

In the many huts I entered, if there were pictures at all, they were portraits of people, never scenery or artwork. Many huts had no pictures. In a poor country, pictures are a luxury.

My husband’s parents frequently sent us several developed prints made from Bruce’s slides. We didn’t see the slides ourselves, since we had them sent from Kodak directly to the folks. It was always wonderful to see our pictures. Normally those prints his parents sent were some of the best ones that they thought we should see. In some cases, we’d asked them to send us extra copies so we could give them to our Gambian friends.

The folks sent us an exceptionally good portrait of our good friend Tombong, shirtless and muscular. Taken in the evening light, the picture had an unusual golden glow. We decided to have it framed.

We found the Gambian method of picture framing unique. They cut pieces of glass somewhat larger than the picture. In this case, we mounted Tombong’s picture on a piece of blank paper. The framer encased the mounted picture between two pieces of glass and then skillfully taped the glass together with red electrical tape. Then, the framer hand painted flowers in each corner, giving the appearance of a frame. As he did this, a crowd gathered to see what the tubobs were doing.

“Tombong,” I heard many people murmur. Probably two dozen people had gathered to watch the picture framer at work.

That was at the end of a day. We wondered how long it would be before word got to Tombong.

The next morning I saw him coming our way, his steps very quick. He rarely walked that fast. As we greeted one another, I could see his eyes dart to our walls.

“We have something for you, Tombong.”

“Yes.” Though old by African standards, Tombong showed the anticipation of a child at Christmas.

Bruce handed him the picture, wrapped in brown paper. I was surprised to see tears spring to Tombong’s eyes when he opened the package. “Oh, my. Oh, this is fine. Now I will have something to give to my son. He looked at each of us in turn. “Thank you, thank you.”

Book Review: By Grace

By GraceBy Grace by Arletta Dawdy, the second book of The Hauchuca Trilogy, brings to the reader a fascinating chain of events.

Grace Pelham leaves Albany, New York, after her father’s death. Journeying to New York City via boat, she takes with her a small legacy and a desire to visit museums to further her art interests. She meets people on the boat who will prove to be life-long mentors and friends. An incident happens in New York that forces her to leave her new-found friends and a promising job.

Taking on another name, Grace flees west, enriching her artistic abilities and making friends along the way. Learning that the New York incident has made a turn for the worse, Grace moves further west, with yet another identity.

By Grace is a fast-pace novel. Through Grace, the author shows vast knowledge of art, design, jewelry, gems and 19th century landscape and customs. The book has a strong sense of place in the many regions Grace journeys. The author is skilled in character development and in keeping the reader engaged throughout the story.

I highly recommend Arletta Dawdy’s By Grace, available in print and ebook formats. To learn more about the author, visit www.ArlettaDawdy.com

What Day is This?

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From: Tubob: Two Years in West Africa with the Peace Corps

I noticed the hospital had no calendar. I wondered how people kept track of days, but soon learned they really didn’t. It worried me that the correct dates weren’t always noted on medical records. More, I worried that instructions for administering medications weren’t being followed with an accurate indicator of days.

I had asked Bruce’s mom to send me a calendar for the hospital in our Christmas package. Luckily she air-mailed two calendars, one for the hospital and one for us. It was a good thing since we still hadn’t received our Christmas packages (nor would we until mid-March).

I hung up the pretty calendar and showed everyone at the hospital where it was. “Now we can keep better track of the days.”

The next day it was gone and no doubt decorated someone’s hut. I hated to do it, but I donated our own to the hospital. It, too, disappeared.

That night, at home, I drew two blank monthly calendars on typing paper, using carbon paper to duplicate. I filled in that month’s dates for both the hospital and home. Not surprisingly, no one took my home-made calendar home. I did that each month. At least now the nurses had a way to keep track of dates and medications given.

Book Review: No Escape: The Sweetwater Tragedy

no-escape-coverWhen Susan Cameron arrives in Sweetwater Valley, Wyoming, she is full of hope for her new life. At last, she will answer to no one but herself–she is free to pursue her dream of owning her own land and making her own choices. She gets off to a rocky start, but undaunted, doggedly follows her plan to file for her own section of land. Along the way, she meets Michael O’Brien who shows a romantic interest in her. Susan, however, meets Michael’s every effort with frosty response. This is her time to prove herself and nothing, no one, will deter her.

Early on, Susan has the good fortune to meet her generous and helpful neighboring homesteaders, Ella and her husband Jim. Susan soon learns that cattlemen are actively making life miserable for homesteaders. The free grazing land cattlemen have used for years is being “ruined” by homesteaders’ houses, fences and crops, tying up precious water resources. The lawlessness and tragedy that follow is a bleak part of western history.

This excellent historical novel, No Escape: The Sweetwater Tragedy, by Jean Henry Mead, is based on an actual 1889 Wyoming incident involving the vigilante hangings of Ellen “Ella” Watson-Averell and her husband, James. The homesteaders were falsely accused of running a “brawdy” house” in exchange for rustled cattle. To carry the story, the author has drawn a fictitious character, a composite of thousands of single women who attempted to prove up on homesteads, some successfully, some not.

Versatile author Jean Henry Mead’s impeccable research is evident in this gripping fast-paced tale.

No Escape: The Sweetwater Tragedy by Jean Henry Mead is available in e-book and print formats.

Desperate for Rain

umbrellaFrom: TUBOB: Two Years in West Africa with the Peace Corps

The Gambia was desperate for rain. Flashes of heat lightning and thunderclaps teased us with promises, but other than a few scattered raindrops, no real rain. Even Africans complained of the heat and the thirsty crop’s need for rain.

Our Peace Corps friend Nathaniel invited his colleague Norman to Basse for a work related meeting and invited us to join them for dinner afterward at Jobot’s All Necessary Foods. The walk into Basse was especially humid, hot and sticky. I could almost feel rain in the air.

I grumbled to Bruce. “I couldn’t feel any wetter if it actually rained.”

He agreed. “I’ll bet before the end of this evening, we’ll have rain.”

It couldn’t be too soon for us. We had our usual great dinner at Jobot’s, making a big effort to ignore the heat. We headed over to Pa Peacock’s White House Fuladu East Bar for a cold drink. We’d been there for only a few minutes when it finally came, a few tentative drops, and then a deluge.

Bruce and I stepped outside and stood in the rain, laughing and getting soaked to the skin.

Most Gambians don’t like to get wet and will take great steps to avoid it. Nathaniel and Norman stood in the doorway watching us, amused. An African fellow watched with them and said to Nathaniel, “What’s wrong with those people?”

“They’re from Seattle,” Nathaniel replied.