Te amo Bolivia!!!

Our director Alex Muir, his son Greg Muir who is a missionary with the Quechua Indians, and a lovely Quechua lady we met. Greg is about 5'9.

Waiting in a small village for their radio. It was about 100F. There were about 300 people who came.

My dear brother Hector Mamani Albino. One of the finest people I've ever known. EVER. He has the heart of a lion. And he never stops smiling.

Brenda Swann Phinney. She knit all of these sweaters. You see the love? I was there. Those kids were stunned beyond words that a gringa gave them such treasures.

This dear man stayed for the entire time we were there, in the village of Tusquina. On crutches. In serious heat. Just because we were there. 

Woody Scott, from New England.

Those boys stood around until Woody smiled and asked for their help. He's a trained, professional Grandfather. That one touch on that boy's shoulder, that "well done" sent him to the moon. I'm not sure if he came back.

  

A goat trail from Mojon Khasa to the road. It went 1000 feet UP. At 15,000 feet, the oxygen level in the air was 40% less than we were used to. It was a lung burning, brain frying, leg killing hike. My heart was POUNDING. Then we saw a Quechua man carry our generator up the trail on his back.

How we travel in-country.

And why prayer is EXTREMELY important!!

Like, REALLY important!!

Just love them. That's all. Oh, and jump rope at 15,5000 feet and not die.

This is Willian. Yes, with an N. He has cerebral palsy. Ian's brother is autistic. Ian LOVED that little boy and that showed the entire village that we meant what we said.

But if you think Ian loved him? Kelsey literally cried for DAYS when we said good bye to him.

Te amo Boliva.

I'll see you in FIVE WEEKS!!!!

This is the day...

That the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Yes, I know what today is. I know the events that made a sea change in American history toward a more frightening place.

I've heard some people talking about the End Times and earthquakes and famine and on and on. Any day now, Jesus will come back.

Or will He?

End times? Wars without end?

The thing is, why not go back to 1930's Germany. All was quiet and then a new Chancellor came to power and before they knew it, by 1945, 6 million Jews were dead. Thousands upon thousands of people tried to hide their Jewish friends. Some succeeded, some died alongside them. Gypsies were killed. Poles were killed. Communists were killed.
Children and adults with Down's Syndrome were killed.
Deaf people were killed.
Blind people were killed.
Anyone who wasn't perfect, was killed.
Betsie ten Boom was killed.
Deitrich Bonhoeffer was killed.

Stalin's record was even worse. He killed at least 20 million of his own people. Gulags. Pogroms. Death upon miserable death.

Wars without end?

Uganda
Rwanda.
Somalia.
Chechnya.
Bosnia.
Northern Ireland.
El Salvador.
Guatemala.
Argentina.
East Timor.
Laos.
Viet Nam.
Cambodia.
North Korea.
Iraq.
Afghanistan.


Seeing a pattern?

God sees the pattern.

It looks like this.

Lord I come
Lord I thank you
For your love
For this grace divine
Love and mercy
Undeserving
You gave it all
The greatest sacrifice

You were wounded
For my sin
And You were bruised
For all my shame
You were broken
For my healing
Only by the cross
I'm saved

You're the mender of the broken
To every outcast
A friend and comforter

I come boldly to your presence
Lord I bow before your throne
You're my healer
My redeemer
You're my hope, my life, my all

You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken


You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken

I do not pretend to have any answers for anyone.
I just know Jesus has them.
He may not tell you the answers you want or need, but He's got everything else covered. Including YOU.

Just for Heather Gilbert!!

Tip of the day?

Turn ON the lights when shooting a video.
Then you won't look like you just ate 5 pounds of blueberries.

And brush your hair.
And teeth.
And back up.

The WHAT??

You know, some days you come across a person and you think "Wouldn't she be a great friend? She just looks...nice. And the nose ring kinda tells me she avoids polyester blazers and beige pumps."

Now that we live in a cut/copy/paste/download/instant society, meeting new people is ridiculously easy.
But that connection still is old school. The "do you like me? I like you. Wanna be friends?" voice we heard when we were 8 still sings in our heads.

When I started serioulsy spending time finding bloggers that spoke to me... who could say "you spelled seriously wrong" without offending me...I came across an interesting name.

Becky Doughty.
Hmmmm.
She sounds like a person...with a name.

So I lurked on her blog.
I'd follow her comments.
I hired a detective to case out her house...okay, not really.

Over time, we became friends on Facebook and then moved into a more serious level.
We exchanged....emails!
I know, right?!?!?

Soon the emails began to fly and each time I'd read her blog, I thought, when I grow up, I want to be just like Becky.
Okay, not quite, but I learned alot. I mean I LEARNED from her blog, from her wisdom, but mostly?

I learned from her transparent heart for Christ. The hunger that comes from tasting pure joy and wanting more.

Imagine my total newbie blogger/writer SHOCK when she nominated ME(???) for The Beautiful Blogger Award.
What a shock and awe moment!!!

Thank you, my dear friend, who I ALMOST met this past summer.

What an honour and blessing this was for me.

You can meet her at www.beckydoughty.com.


God will make a way Becky, someday we will meet. Maybe at ACFW next year?

So....here’s how this award works: Someone nominates me, I do the task required to receive the award, then I pass it on by nominating other bloggers. For the Beautiful Blogger Award, I am to tell you seven interesting things about me.



1- I love and adore Earl Grey Tea.
I want to marry it and settle down somewhere.
It is BEST with light cream and a family sized platter of milk chocolate chip cookies.
What? Like you've never eaten 8 at a sitting?

2-I have wandered down paths laden with fire ants and moisture loaded palm fronds in the Amazon Jungle.
I have seen tree pythons getting out the cultery and calling the kids for dinner at the sight of stupid humans standing near trees. I'd be FINE if I never ever went back to the jungle.
Two words: "heat" and "rash".
But the best part???

I swam in the Amazon River.
Uh huh.
Me.

THE AMAZON!!!!


3-I have seen "Last of the Mohicans" approximately 50 times. Each and every time I see it, I wish Magua would get some anger management and let those nice Monroe sisters go home. I love the soundtrack and play the music to the point I could sing it!!
There is no such thing as ugly when a man is in a posh uniform. Or leather. Or a good tan...well, is it warm in here or what?!

4- I am absolutely TERRIFIED OF HYDRO DAMS!!!!!!!!!!

5-I can't do a somersault. I spent my entire childhood thinking they'd break my neck. I still freak out when I see kids doing them.

6-I always wanted to play the violin. And the guitar. I play air guitar really well. No one will ever see that.

7-There are four separate problems in my feet. Plantar fashee-eye-tus. Athritis. EXTREMELY severe nerve damage. Flat feety-itus.
Oh, and the back has nerve damage.
I live in pain.
But it could be worse.
A whole lot worse.

God has given me a huge amount of relief from the pain, and I am grateful.




So?
Who do I nominate???
Two other women who have taught me alot, encouraged me and gone above and beyond the call of fellow bloggeryness and answered my questions when I needed help. We've become friends and I bet the Christmas packages I get from them will be HUGE!!!
Okay, not really....

I hope you check their blogs out.

Here they are in reverse alphabetical order....

Lindsay Harrel.
You can meet Lindsay at www.lindsayharrel.blogspot.com

I got to meet Lindsay at a secret location (Starbucks) in Phoenix, Arizona this past July.
If you think she's smart, witty and has the voice of an angel on her blog, you are right!!
Oh, and she's taller than I thought she'd be.

This writing gig is such a roller coaster. I asked Lindsay so many newbie questions, and each time, she answered and encouraged me. What a kind and giving heart!!
And SMART! Whoa, I think someday I'll be one of those people who puls a Lindsay Harrel book off the shelf and holds it up in the air and yells "I know her!!!"

Here's the "about me" on her blog...

I'm an author/editor from Phoenix who writes inspirational women's fiction. My desire is to honor God in all I do and to help draw others closer to Him by planting seeds of hope in their hearts. "I planted the seed...but God made it grow." (1 Corinthians 3:6)

Since the age of six, when she wrote the riveting tale “How to Eat Mud Pie,” Lindsay Harrel has passionately engaged the written word as a reader, writer, and editor. She holds a B.A. in Journalism and Mass Communication and an M.A. in English. She has written and published feature stories for two college newspapers, advertising copy for several websites, and health- and beauty-related articles for consumers. In her current day job as a curriculum editor for a local university, Lindsay helps others improve their work and hones her skills for her night job—writing inspirational women’s fiction with romantic elements.

A member of American Christian Fiction Writers and My Book Therapy, Lindsay posts regularly at her blog and has been published on the Power to Change website, in the online CronkiteZine, and in The Arizona Republic. Her creative essay “Snapshots of My Mother” will be published in Donna Goodrich’s mother/grandmother anthology this summer.


I also want to nominate Heather Day Gilbert.
You can meet "HDG" at www.heatherdaygilbert.blogspot.com

Aside from looking, you know, 15, Heather is a mom and wife who knows how to cook dinner outside during a massive power outage. A heart as big as the sky and a smile that's even bigger. Heather was one of the very first bloggers I fell in like with.
Early on in our friendship, Heather would help and encourage and gently tell me where I needed to up my game. Her faith shows in everything she does and I'm SO glad to know her.

Here's her "about me"...
 I'm a West Virginia-born gal who married the sweetest Yankee in the world. I'm a Christian, and I write stories of authentic love after marriage. I homeschool my children. And I love big dogs, MacGyver, coffee, tulips, and wasting time on video games.

I started this blog to share some of my first completed novel, Otherworld, with readers. The first thirteen chapters are up on this blogspot. It was paranormal fiction and I loved it, but it was too short. I'd completed it in a month for a NaNo challenge. Someday that book will find its way to print (even if I have to self-pub!), or I have people who are going to hunt me down and beat the ending out of me!

My second novel, God's Daughter, is indeed the proper length at 80,000 words. It's historical fiction, based on the Icelandic sagas, and it's about one of my favorite Viking heroines, Gudrid. She should be in every history book!   



Each thing I said about one of theses two women can easily be said about the other.
Grace, kindness, faith, strength and the desire to be the best that God intended them to be.

We were never meant to walk alone, and I'm honoured and humbled to share the writer's road with Heather and Lindsay. Go say hello to them, and wave when you get there.  

I get by with a little help from my friends....

Stay in the game.

I am not having the best day.

Not.
At.
All.

But? Isn't Jennifer usually in a good mood?

Yes. And the sky is usually blue, but kids, clouds do roll. And so does thunder.

I told my husband of my mood. Then he started grinning like a gameshow host.

He grinned as big and fakey perfect as he could and said "See, I'm SMILING!"

I might keep him around, he knows when to make me smile. And he let me tell him exactly what was wrong. He understands. He gets it. He understands me. Which is awesome, especially when I want to hide in a corner.


Then I emailed a friend and vented. Again.
Hey, who doesn't want a chorus of "You are awesome" when you feel like the most un-awesomely, ickky blob around?

You know what I mean, right? There are those friends that you KNOW will listen and let you vent and get all "you tell 'em!!" and then do what needs to be done.

My friend also gave me the advice that I needed and the understanding that I wanted. Then he said something that was so simple, but knocked me sideways. Four words that slayed me. BAM! Just like that.

He said ...

"Stay in the game."

He didn't go on and on about life and God wants you to be happy and look at all your blessings and you should be thankful and blahblahblah.

He knew that a simple statement was all I needed. God gives us words from people we know and love, and this was four of  them.



STAY IN THE GAME.

Thank you, my friend.

And back at you.

25 things about me, plus a bonus.

I'm borrowing this idea from Lindsay Harrel and Melissa Tagg...

But I'm tweaking it a little. I'm going to use the whole alphabet!


A-Atlantic Ocean-I live an hour from the ocean, but hardly ever go there. Stuuuupid!

B-Boys- we have THREE!!! 18, 14 and 9.

C-I am CANADIAN!!! Can you tell I'm proud of my country?

D-Dog, we have one, his name is Tippy.

E- Endurance, I need some.

F-Fish, we have ...some. How do you count fish?

G-God, is my rock and refuge, my everything.

H-Help, I beg for it and I appreciate those who give me the help I need!

I-Indians- My book has Navajo Indian culture all through it.

J-My name is Jennifer! I'm married to John.

K-Katie, our daughter, age 21.

L-Lakes. Ew. Don't like them. Mushy bottoms.

M-Major, what an awesome family name. We have our own adjective!

N-Normal. I ain't.

O-Opera, someday I want to sing the Revenge Aria. And NOT blow it.

P-Popular-see normal.

Q-Quesadillas. LOVE them!!

R-Rock star. When no one is looking, my husband pretends to be one.

S-Seriously pursuing a writing career.

T-tour, as in road tour. Just did one, it was TERRIFIC!!!

U-Unbelievable all the friends I have made since I jumped on the runaway horse of writing.

V-Victory, in Jesus and in this world of writing, someday.

W-Wild hearts can't be broken. Great movie. How I see life.

X-X-ray, John had one at the dentist last week.

Y-Youth. I wish my joints felt like they had some!

And our bonus letter???

Z-My maiden name, "Zarifeh", it's an Arab name. My mom married Saad Zarifeh when I was 12, he is AWESOME!!

Who do I admire?

I have an actual paying job as a writer for our local paper. I'm in a team of op-ed types and three of us are given a question and our responses are put in the paper. It's called "Community Triple Take" and it's been a great source of writer's ed for the last 4 years. I get alot of positive feedback from friends at church and the kid's schools. Every once in a while, I get a some not so great feedback, but we can't all be Joan Didion or Ann Landers, can we?

This week's column is on "who I admire the most".
Here is my response.


She was born in 1942 in Alberta , the eldest of three children to not the best parents on the planet. She had problems with her knees and spent months with plaster casts on each leg. In her teens she contracted scarlet fever and over time, lost ninety percent of her hearing. Her mother, remember, not the best example of a parent, accused her of faking her hearing loss for attention. I don’t know about you, but if I was going to fake something for attention, it would be a mild stomach ailment. She married at the tender age of eighteen and was a mother by the time she was nineteen. Another child followed two years later, and while her third was on its way, her young husband felt the need to be free of his responsibilities. At the age of twenty two, she was a mother of three little ones and newly divorced. She returned to Mr and Mrs Lousy Parents because where else could she go? After going away to the big city to get trained for a job that would allow her to support her children, she brought them to live fulltime with her. She worked very hard and had very little of the fun that twenty-somethings like to have. Day to day life was her children, her job and her faith. A decade after her world came crashing in, she married a fabulous, exotic, dashing man. She went from a housing project to a house with a yard, a cherry tree and the peace that comes with having someone love her enough to leave cultural conventions behind and marry her despite a few disapproving nods. The burden of providing for her children lessened, but so did the strength of her hearing. She was one of the first people in her region to have a dog specifically trained to help the deaf, and he was a treasure! He was as smart as a whip and did his job very well, unless there was a cat out on the lawn, then he struggled a bit. As all good things do, his time with her came to an end and he was missed greatly. After being tested and tested again, she received a cochlear implant. After decades of hearing very little, she was “switched on” and instantly had 100% hearing! Now she can listen to her favourite music and speak to her grandchildren on the phone. She’s travelled all over the world and is planning a very special trip next spring with her daughter. When trials came her way, she kept going. Her faith never wavered. She is an amazing woman to so many people, but to me, she is “Mom”.









 

The arrival of fear... Oh, and soccer!

How is this for scary? Our heroine has fallen asleep , but her nightmares are only seconds away. This is how I wrote the arrival of fear. Tell me what you think.

With silent, merciless cunning, its hackles came alive and its appetite was whetted. Hungry for the sounds of terror on which it fed, it reached tentacles up and felt the air for signs of life. It climbed out of its hiding place in the trunk and slithered toward where she lay, peaceful and undefended. It had her alone and was ready to feast on her deepening weakness and disappointment. The vile darkness unleashed its jagged claws and crawled up behind her. Blood stained teeth dripped with an insatiable hunger for triumph as foul breath whispered dread down her neck. Slowly, as her mind bid farewell to lamplight and safety,  evil wormed deep inside her hidden places. Within seconds, darkness claimed victory and Sarah was dragged back into Hell. 


We're off to Provincials today, it should be fun and nail biting at the same time. #3 is his team's keeper and frankly, he's pretty darn good! It's a chance to sit outside, out of the mole/writing room, and enjoy the sunshine. Chat with friends and maybe even pay attention to the game. Tomorrow the games are WAY more important, so I'll leave the stress home today, and bring the jumper cables, for my nerves, tomorrow.

Question....what sports could you watch 24/7 and which bore you to tears?

Query hook sentence, opinions???

Thanks to the fab-yoo-luss Heather Sanseri for the help and prodding to get this going.

What dost thou think of the following hook sentence?

 Sarah Monroe is rescued from years of unjust imprisonment, but can she survive the difficult simplicity of living in freedom or let her long hidden secrets destroy both her and the man who's given her one last chance at love?

 

What my Mom is giving me for my 50th birthday next year.

Now, I have NEVER had a fancy vacation. Ever. No schmancy hotels, no spa treatments. I either am away on a missions trip with ONE day of the finer things.  Or on vaycay with the kids at Deaf Camp. Or staying with friends....

This?

This is "Happy Birthday Jennifer"
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Home at last!!!

We're HOME!!

I enjoyed (ish) our vacation. But let's remember, I was away for 2 weeks before I came home and went away for 11 days.

I am TIRED.
Very TIRED.
Super ultra TIRED!!!!!!

I was so very happy to crawl into my bed on Satuday night and only felt minor twinges of guilt for sleeping throough church on Sunday morning.
The nice thing is I'm married to a guy who understands the need to fall splat on the floor and unpack days after we get home. He was all hyper about cleaning the van yesterday, but ewww, who wouldn't be? After 2 weeks with 3 boys and travelling 18 hours, over two days, each way??

The cottage was acceptable, and the roof held back the rain.

But...home IS better.

 I love that my tea can be served in mugs that I like (tall and hold alot of tea) and my toaster toats both sides at once.
I can soak in my tub and not worry about getting an as yet un-named tropical disease.
Each burner on the stove works.
There are no weird flying things attacking me.
The neighbour's dog doesn't bark at 5 am. Every. Stinking. Day.
I can do my laundry.
I can do the boys' laundry.
No one is serving moose and venison steaks.
My bed is not made of rusty bed springs and a WW2 vintage mattress. Okay, I lied. The Korean War.
And the bestest best thing about being home????

It's...home.


What is YOUR best thing about home?

It's a happy day...

And I thank God for the weather.
It's a happy day, and I'm living it for my Lord.
It's a happy day, and things are gonna get better,
Living each day by the promises in God's Word.

That is a camp song I learned about ...insert awful number of years ago here.
That song always perks me up and makes me feel eleven years old.

There are blue skies and the lake is like glass today. We're leaving tomorrow and I couldn't be happier, well, I could, if we were flying home. But NOT on United! Ha!

I am tired of suitcases. I've been living in mine for a month, with a 4 day break at home. I miss my friends, I miss my bed. And honestly, I miss my husband! Yes, he's here, but ...anyway...ahem. Fans self.

When I get home, I'm going to start putting together my query. GAH!!!!
I also have to outline , on my hard drive, the books that have come together and are ready to be started.
And I have to finish the sequel to the one I just typed "The End" on last night.

I am being forced to change the title of my book. Someone else has a book out withalmost the same title as my MS.
MY title was "The Secret Keepers".
There's already a book out called "The Secret Keeper".

Since mine has issues in it like a) the harm that comes from not telling the truth, b) hiding someone you love from those who want to kill him, c) PTSD and d) learning to admit when you've fallen n love...I thought my title was darn tootin' good!

I've danced with a few different alternatives and have come up with "A Night in the Darkness".

 Our heroine has lived half of her life under a cloud of pain and trauma, our hero has a history of being hunted and despised because he's Navajo, both have deep secrets they're trying to hide. Upon her arrival at her sister's ranch, and finally to safety after twenty years of horror, our heroine has a nightmare and runs out into the darkness. Our dashing hero, who's sworn off love ever since his wife died, even though he once promised her he'd remarry, goes out in the dark to find our heroine. Once he finds her, she thinks she's going to be attacked, but instead meets the kindest soul she's ever known. He brings her safely home, on his big black horse and she is smitten, but terrified. He is also in big trouble, because he promised God he'd wait for "the broken one". And here is our heroine, covered in scars and trauma. He knows that she is The One and he's a wreck, because he disobeys God's plan for them both.

So, I think, given the themes of redemption, darkness and recovery...not to mention a great love story, I'm going to submit the MS as "A Night in the Darkness".

Ugh.
People say writing the book is the easiest part, and they're right!!!

Also, I'm wondering about asking a few of my favourite blog/writer/Facebook/email/real life friends to guest blog here. Yes, I'm nervous as heck to ask, but I want to have my friends over and hang out.

What is the etiquette on guest bloggers and if you read this blog, YES, you're one of the ones I want to ask!!
So, ponder and pray and tell me what you think.

Face.Palm.

What a craptastic day.

Fought with the spouse.
None of the emails I sent about translations have been returned.
Argued with the spouse.
Felt sorry for myself.
Went to join the SIL for kayaking only to find she'd already gone.
Annnnnnnnnnnnd...
Dropped the camera in the lake.

Tomorrow should be an improvement.

I do NOT want to go away again!!

We were supposed to leave early this morning for Ontario. We're leaving tomorrow instead.

I don't want to travel again. I know, such a first world problem!

I am TIRED. 2 weeks on the road has exhausted me. Taking 3 days to get home has left me weary. I do not want to go anywhere. I don't even want to put in my contacts.

But it's time with John's very elderly parents that cannot be put off to another day. She's 85, he's 95. And I love them, so I guess 16 hours in a van with 3 boys will be the price I pay for time with his parents.

But if they weren't going to be there? I'd go on strike. Just like a spoiled twit. Well, not "just like" a spoiled twit. I'd BE the spoiled twit with whom all other regular twits are compared.

Ohhhh. Wait. There's an antique market there...Hmmmm.

And I can take my notes and work on my query while at the beach.

Not so bad afterall.

Hearing the screams...

I hope you *all* enjoyed the photos, I can guarantee that each one of them was taken at a temperature of at least 95F. In the shade. By a melting Canadian.

So.
Bosque Redondo. Which is Spanish for "round grove of trees".
Or the name in Navajo, which is "Hweeldi".

Let me back up a little.
John and I drove to Halifax to get me to my noon flight to O'Hare. We'd just had 3 lovely days ALONE while the boys were at camp. It was like being young and goofy again. We could say anything, not worrying about what impressionable ears would hear. We misbehaved. We laughed ourselves silly. And we did other ...anyway...stuff.

I slept on the way to Halifax, we'd left the house at 7am for the 3 1/2 hour drive. The flight was on schedule and I made it through Customs and Security just fine.
Or so I thought.
Boarding ended at 12:15.
At 12:12 , as I boarded the plane, I got flagged and had to go back and have a body scan.
Listen, after 4 kids and an unscheduled visit with a pig in a ditch in Bolivia, with my jeans around my ankles...who gives a hoot about a body scan??
I made the flight and off we went.

I had a 4 hour layover in Chicago and then the flight was delayed another 4 hours. I arrived in OoooooOOOooklahoma at 1am. But I did not care!!

I met our adorable hostess, LaVonna, and was ever so nicely served green chili enchiladas. At a rather late hour. Welcome to the South. Eat it anyway.
Y'all.

Our first day was from Oklahoma City to Santa Rosa, New Mexico.
We, that would be Karen, Kathy and I, stopped in Amarillo for a steak dinner. That's where the BIG man ate a 72 ounce steak and should have stuck with the salad. He was beet red, sweating and couldn't walk very well.
How is eating 4 1/2 POUNDS of red meat something to wave above any other actually useful achievements???
Anyway, after a lovely drive and a stay in Santa Rosa, New Mexico (where I discovered my WiFi wasn't working), we headed for Fort Sumner.
It took some exploring of the rather umm, worn out town of Fort Sumner and a stop at the Billy The Kid Museum to even FIND the Bosque Redondo Memorial.
We arrived to find only one or two other vehicles and no one in sight. We wandered outside for a while until Kathy, who'd already predicted "I'm probably going to get militant " needed some air conditioning.
Karen went with her and I stayed outside taking notes and pictures.

Walking around, I saw so little vegetation that could be of ANY use. Very few trees and just the alkali rich Pecos River. Alkali means poison. The utterly useless river water was lethal to anything who consumed the water. Horses, plants, people.

The unprepared US Army drove 9000 people to a prison camp, with no water.
Fools!
The land was desolate. The Fort's was barely ready. Only Army personnel and their wives had housing. So as the Navajo, or Dine, arrived, they were forced to dig holes in the frozen ground to escape the cold and wind.
At it's longest, the route was 450 miles.
Along the Walk, Spanish settlers, Comanches, Utes, any other enemies of the Navajo were ALLOWED to steal women and children as slaves.
Young men were shot if they tried to save their wives or sisters, or their children.


Some Navajo never surrendered and were safe from the Army. They escaped into the Grand Canyon, Utah and other areas further north than Canyon De Chelly. (Pronounced Canyon d'Shay).

From January 1864 to June of 1868, approximately 3000 of the 8500 Navajo prisoners died.
A full twenty percent of the entire Navajo died in 4 1/2 years.

The worst thing I learned, the catalyst for a whole new story, was the following:

During the early days of the Walk, two young women were taken behind a rock.
As the the whole crowd of their people looked on, and their husbands stood by, unknowing, both young women were shot dead.

Why?

They were slowing everyone down.

They were in heavy labour and about to give birth. The soldiers refused to wait until the babies were born.
Hundreds of people screamed in terror after the gunshots rang out. Then they were forced to keep marching.



I cannot believe for one split second that the devil didn't dance that day.



I already have the book outlined.

The Great Indian Fry Bread Road Trip. Part One.

A mirage on I-40

                                       
                                                             

   Welcome to where?  

                                                           


 
   This man ate a 72 ounce steak. We thought he was going to have a heart attack.

You never know when you'll find a research gem. This is a collection of pre-WW1 barbed wire. As in, 1860's barbed wire used in ranches in Arizona...

Buffalo at a rest stop in Oklahoma. His nose was 8 inches across.

Almost to Bosque Redondo. Or as the Navajo call it, "Hweeldi".

The field where General Sherman, Barboncito and Manuelito signed the treaty in 1868 that freed the Navajo and allowed them to be escorted home, with gifts and supplies.

An artist's rendition of the Long Walk, January 1864.

Map of the various routes that the Army herded the Navajo toward the Bosque.

Some of the completely unfertile land that the Army expected the Navajo to turn into lush farmland.

A memorial from visiting Navajos to their ancestors.

Imagine crossing this, in Winter, on foot and for 450 miles. While they walked, the Army ALLOWED the enemies of the Navajo, and also any Spanish settlers who wanted to, to steal women and children for slaves. Less people to take care of made for less trouble along the way.

Window Rock, Arizona.

 Me and Miss Rena at church. No, I wasn't being pinched, even though it may appear so. She was a sweetheart.

Jesus and His sheep.

Me and Helen Yazzie. Her great-grandparents hid from the Army and survived the Walk.

The sisters who made it all possible, Karen Antone, and Kathy Antone Barber.

Where my heroine meets her prince.

The hills above Sedona.

"Second and third level chief pattern" Navajo blankets at the Heard Museum in Phoenix.

I started teasing these two that they were from the BigHair Tribe of Oklahoma.

Melting alive and being blinded by the Arizona sun at the Heard Museum.

Why can't my husband study THESE kinds of trees???

Playing a fun game of "who drove the farthest?"

Cactus. Hello pain.

My ranch outside Flagstaff. Okay, not *mine*. But kinda.

Johannah, Lucinda and the always poorly behaved and very much loved Helen Yazzie. My Navajo sisters.

Hola from....Ohio?

Oh.
MY.
WORD!!!!!!!!!

I am in Cleveland.
Ohio.

Tell me how I ended up HERE????

I keep telling myself  "I know God has a reason for this" but after THREE days of trying to get home and begin the story of my trip, complete with photos....I am in a Howard Johnson's eating granola bars and apples from my carry on.
Oh, and speaking of luggage. Mine will actually get home before I do.

And just so's you know. It takes two days to get home from Bolivia. Which is in the Southern Hemispere. 5000 miles from home.

Oklahoma is NOT that far!!