Happy holidays to all. Stastne a vesele Vanoce.
Copyright (c) 2017. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
The scents of Czech Christmas
A Czech Christmas in America
By Emma Palova
Lowell, MI – I landed at JFK on this day 28 years ago to live permanently in the USA with my family. We had two days to get from NYC to Big Rapids to be home for Christmas. My dad Vaclav Konecny, former math professor at Ferris State University, did all the driving through New York City and on the treacherous turnpike to Michigan.
I will never forget this road trip in mom’s station wagon with frozen formations on the windows across five states.
My mom Ella in anticipation of our arrival from former Czechoslovakia did all the prep work in the kitchen. This included the traditional Christmas Eve dinner that consists of a mushroom soup, fried fish with potato salad and traditional Czech pastries.
I knew immediately what I missed. Since everything was ready, there were no smells in the suburban house, no scents of Christmas. I associate Czech Christmas with the aroma of vanilla crescents, hot chocolate that tops all filled pastries and browned mushrooms from the soup.
Since the Czechs put up their Christmas trees on Christmas Eve, you also get the smell of a fresh-cut pine tree.
After 28 years, I try to keep up with all the traditions of a true Czech Christmas. The only one that I had permanently dropped is putting up the tree on Christmas Eve. Other than that we adhere to the ritual of fasting on Dec. 24th in order to see the golden pig on the wall according to an old legend. Mom bakes kolache for the Christmas Day breakfast, daughter-in-law Maranda and “recreate” traditional Czech pastries like chocolate covered “baskets” and Linzer cookies. We open up gifts on Christmas Eve and we go to the midnight mass with carols.
Christmas Prague
Our son Jake plays Christmas songs on the saxophone, I accompany him on the piano. On Christmas Day, we mostly eat and drink, just like everyone else. around the world. We do the visiting on Dec. 26th which is the official second holiday of Christmas known as St. Stephan Day in the old country.
With this rather brief account of a traditional Czech Christmas, I would like to wish everyone a truly peaceful holiday season.
I have to run to bake some vanilla crescents, so I have the scent of a Czech Christmas in the house. Plus Jake called that they ate all the Christmas cookies Maranda had made.
Hohoho.
A sincere thank you to all my friends and fans.
Merry Christmas.
Emma Palova
Copyright (c) 2017. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Year in Review 2017
Note: This is a mini-series of posts that look back at 2017 with all its joys and tribulations. It was a year of big changes and adjustments both professional and personal. It feels like the year just flew away like a balloon.
2017 A Year to Remember
By Emma Palova
January
Quick trip to Czech Republic
When January rolled in like a monster truck, we found out early on that we had to fly out of the country for Aunt Martha’s funeral in Stipa. My aunt was the only living sibling of my father Vaclav Konecny former math professor at Ferris State University in Big Rapids.
The trip to Czech Republic in frigid temperatures on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean was an eye-opening experience. From today’s perspective, I consider it our last good-bye to the homeland emotionally.
After the funeral, we met up with the cousins and our teachers from ZDS Stipa School at the local restaurant “Stipsky Senk.” Deceased Aunt Martha was a math and an arts teacher at ZDS. Those three hours of catching up were worth a million dollars. My husband Ludek and I met at the ZDS School in mid 1970s. We shared some of the teachers. They remembered us just like we were in school: young and beautiful. We remembered them just like they were back in school: semi-old, bossy and strict.
It’s amazing how 40 years changed exactly nothing about the perception you have established at the beginning. We saw each other through the same eyes.
“Do you write?” Mrs. Slaharova asked me.
“I do, how do you know?” I was surprised.
“Your aunt always said you take after grandma and she wrote poetry, right?” she said.
“Yes, she did.”
I thought to myself, “Yes, it’s true you cannot escape your destiny.”
Lowell Showboat
The Lowell Showboat closed as an entertainment venue on Jan. 4. Santa has no home, but he moves to the Lowell Area Chamber of Commerce.
February
A Valentine’s shock
February was a Valentine’s shock. I got an invite to a Valentine’s party at the Flat River Gallery from the local iconic artist Jan Johnson. We interviewed prior to the party at Johnson’s house at the end of January. We enjoyed each other’s company and coffee. We talked about animation and Johnson’s love of painting circus animals. She was upset that the Ringling Brothers had to get rid of the elephants.
“What is a circus without elephants,” she said.
We were both at the fancy Valentine’s party “Champagne & Chocolates” at the gallery. on Feb. 13. Eight days later, I found out from Facebook that Johnson passed away. We were more like friends. I’ve written more than a dozen stories about this prolific watercolor artist & illustrator.
Circus elephants by artist Jan Johnson of Lowell.
NASA
NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope has revealed the first known system of seven Earth-size planets around a single star. Three of these planets are firmly located in the habitable zone, the area around the parent star where a rocky planet is most likely to have liquid water.
Lady Gaga
300 Drones dance behind Lady Gaga during Superbowl half-time show.
Oscar’s Showdown 2017
And the real winner is the movie ‘ Moonlight’ not ‘La La Land.’
March
Spring madness
For me March signals spring, wherever I may live on this earth. I look forward to St. Pat’s Day with all the green traditions. But, the most significant event was the departure of our kids to Bali, Indonesia for our son Jake’s 30th birthday on March 1.
We in turn went to Hastings to watch the grand kids for the stormiest week in Michigan. I am grateful that I could work from the local libraries, both in Hastings and at the KDL Englehart Library due to power outages. I worked on the “Inspiring Women” series for the International Women’s Day on March 8.
As I drove north to Lowell through the Barry County farmlands on Wednesday, 54-mile wind gusts were throwing the small orange Dart across the country road. Broken limbs and twigs were hitting the dancing car in the wind.
To be continued………..
Copyright (c) 2017. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Inspired by philanthropy
Christmas gift of health inspires
Going to a hospital is never easy. We’ve all been there during our lifetime at least once when we were born. Last Friday, I accompanied my lifelong partner Ludek to Metro Health for left heart catheterization with possible intervention at the Metro Hospital in Wyoming.
I was actually the designated driver on this trip. We packed our bags, because we didn’t know if we were going to stay overnight depending on the outcome of the procedure. The sarcastic locals dub Metro as Hotel 6 since it sits directly on freeway M-6.
Cardiac catheterization is a procedure used to diagnose and treat cardiovascular conditions. The doctor inserts a long thin tube called a catheter in an artery or vein in the wrist, neck or groin and threads it through the bloods vessels to the heart.
It was a follow-up to the echo stress test that showed possible narrowing of the blood vessels, that in turn causes chest pains and difficulty breathing. Ludek had been complaining of breathing difficulties.
We got to the hospital at noon. We first went to the Metro Cafe because I was starving, but Ludek had to fast. The enormous cafeteria was full with staff and visitors. It boasted that everything was made from scratch. Actually the salad was delicious. They also had a Subway there.
Walking side by side with nurse Leann we passed the Coffee Bar and the hospital boutique on our way to Cath Lab. The staff hooked up Ludek to all the necessary equipment showing vitals in Bay 9.
After that it was mostly waiting. The procedure was delayed twice due to previous complications with other patients. While Ludek got some sleep, it was introspective time for me. Then finally Dr. Larry Diaz, cardiologist, entered to inform us what’s going to happen. Dr. Diaz was wearing a biker’s cap with word Venezuela on it, a shielded floral apron and he had a slight accent.
We introduced ourselves.
“I am Dr. Diaz and you?” he asked.
“I am Emma,” I said.
“My daughter’s name is Emma,” he said.
“Are you from Venezuela?” I asked boldly.
“Yes, born and raised there until 24,” he said. “A long time ago.”
We discussed the procedure with all the possible outcomes including bleeding and death.
“The positives outweigh the negatives,” he said.
I was far from being calm, but once you’re this far into it, you have no other choice then to stay. I wanted to run so bad. Once they hauled Ludek into the surgery room at 3:21 p.m., I left Bay 9 quickly.
I walked through the hallways around the Healing Garden atrium to the Metro Cafe to replenish fluids. It was really cold and dry in the entire building. I got some Peace Tea with Georgia peach flavor and stared into the Healing Garden at the art on the wall, the bare trees, and at the chairs and tables that had snow for cushions.
Luckily, I was there by myself with only a student working on his computer. The lunch buzz was gone. The bins designated for trash were marked “compost.” A chain link wall closed off the check-out registers from the other side of the Cafe.
I felt grateful to philanthropists Bill & Bea Idema who made the Healing Garden possible. The daylight was leaving us gradually under the dark clouds. I had pager #614 on me, so the cath lab staff could reach me anywhere in the building except for the Coffee Bar.
I passed a big waterfall sign with rolling water over the donor plaques with the inscription: Inspired by Philanthropy. The hospital was celebrating 25 years of philanthropy.
Restless, I changed location to the Reflection Seating area overlooking the atrium closer to the cath lab. I was exhausted over all the possibilities of what could happen. I didn’t want to stay there overnight.
“How could I ever consider being a doctor?” I asked myself. “I can’t even stand being here.”
Yes, at one point in my life, I actually wanted to be a doctor, specifically a cardiologist.
I got lost in my thoughts staring into the garden behind the glass wall. If it was summer, I would have been sitting there, but then I wouldn’t have been able to keep my lunch salad leftovers in the car.
I called our son Jake after seeing endless messages on the phone. It was comforting to speak to an outsider about something else than catheters and moderate sedation with opioid analgesic fentanyl.
“How is dad?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “He just went in.”
Jake, a chronic complainer, talked about the rotten healthcare system.
“Well, at least, it’s available to us,” I said. “Can you imagine in the Third World countries, you would just die.”
We talked about Christmas with Jake stirring my focus away from the tension of the moment. It helped. After the phone call, I pulled out the classic “The Night before Christmas” by Clement Moore out of my computer bag, and read it. I bought it for our grandkids. I started translating it into Czech for our Christmas Eve bilingual performance at Jake’s house. It did wonders for me. I forgot I was in a hospital with the husband having a serious heart procedure done.
A call from mom Ella in Florida put me back into the reality of the hospital on a Friday evening. The staff was rapidly deserting it. The labyrinth of hallways was growing Silent.
“Can you get me my medication from Big Rapids?” she asked. “Next time, when I go to Florida, I’ll take a U-Haul.”
“I got to go,” I said as the pager started vibrating and blinking red like crazy.
It was 5:06, when I re-entered Bay 9. Just in time for Ludek being hauled back in from the surgery room. He had a bloody wrist and some contraption on it. He was smiling and so was the nurse.
“He’s good to go,” jumped in Diaz giving us two thumbs up. “He can shovel snow now. He had no blockages, there was nothing to fix.
“Merry Christmas.”
I gave him a big hug. The biggest hug that I could give.
“Thank you Dr. Diaz.”
Ludek had his arm all bandaged up, like it was broken.
We left the building around 7 p.m. Ludek said he saw stars from the sedation, but other than that he was feeling okay.
As I drove through the wintery night through the city with homes decorated for Christmas, I felt relieved with the outcome; no balloons, no stents to fix blockages in the arteries.
“The arteries feeding your heart are clear,” Dr. Diaz’s words resonated in my ears.
Ludek got the best Christmas gift. That is the gift of health.
Copyright (c) 2017 Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Book a friend
Books are perfect gifts for any age. They put a smile on a child’s face as they hold their first book in their little hands for the first time.
They also put a smile on your friend’s or grandma’s face s they glance at another new novel yet.
There’s still time to buy a book this week as a last minute gift. Just in the “Nick” of time.
Featured photo: Illustration of the nativity scene by Czech illustrator & writer Josef Lada.
via Book as a friend
In Silence Do We Make Confessions That Chaos Creates
Very nice and deep post on silence. I like the way the author thinks and warns us about it.
In silence do we make confessions that chaos creates.
It is neither a random line, nor a pathetic attempt to fit the daily prompt into an unrelated post. It’s one of the lines I wrote which I still love.
It’s been a while. Since I’ve tried my hands at prompts. I could give many reasons, but let’s skip it.
Let’s decipher that line, shall we?
Pain is addictive. Does it seem random or would you say it’s a plausible extension to the first line?
Yeah, I’m asking you, my silent friend.
See, I’m one of those crazy soul who will always choose rain over sunlight. So, I’m always a bit biased.
The line we are talking about, it had a simple thought process behind it. When we introspect, we debate all our faults, within our head, and we do them in a moment of internal silence.
Chaos. The faults of…
View original post 240 more words
Building a fan base
Building a fan base long before the book or screenplay are done is paramount.
How do you build a fan base?
Fan by fan. The best place to start are social media. Start a page on Facebook, that you can later connect to your WordPress blog. Also do twitter.
Blogging for a writer is essential. It was the first recommendation I got from an agent.
“Start blogging,” agent Barbara Lowenstein said. “You should be writing reviews like crazy.”
I started blogging in January of 2013 to build my fan base. I chose WordPress for its impeccable reputation. I started with two follows from friends. Typically, I post twice a week.
What to post?
Give fans a value in your writings; whether it’s inspiration, information, entertainment, insights or a reprieve.
The best posts are relevant to what you are working on. Write about how you came up with the idea for your book, screenplay or business. How does it impact other people?
Why do you feel your work is important, and not just to you?
I can answer this one based on my new collection of short stories “Shifting Sands.”
The reason I put the collection of stories that span more than two decades, was preservation. I knew they would just get lost with time. I wrote some of them on my Smith Corona word processor with only a small screen that showed at the max three to four lines. I bought it for $450 in 1990 at a Kmart store in Big Rapids.
Later, I continued to build my fan base with my journalism career. But, I always had the book in mind first. It was the goal of my life.
Now, that the book is out, I continue to build my fan base with book signings and public appearances. I give it away at raffles.
I accommodate my fans by reaching out to them with also a private book signing, when they already bought one book for themselves and now they want it for a relative as a gift.
I made brochures about me and my book that I hand out wherever I can. I send out newsletters to my mailing list. If you don’t have one, create one. Use MailChimp. It’s free up to 2,000 emails.
Don’t just rely on the Internet to market your work. Be personal and be in the public eye. People love meeting up live with authors.
“How many people can say, they had an author at their museum,” said vice-president Tina Siciliano Cadwallader.
Plus, I love meeting up with fellow authors like Glad Fletcher during Christmas through Lowell. At the age of 80, she took a class so she could pen her memoir “My Garden of Stones.”
Glad is 85 now, and does all her own book marketing including public speaking.
My other favorite local author is the Oakwood Cemetery sexton Don DeJong. I bought his book, he bought mine. He writes stories about the people buried at the cemetery using old newspaper records.
Does being an author carry a responsibility?
You bet it does. People have expectations from you. You have to live up to them.
Whether people read your book or not is a factor you cannot control. The main thing is if they have it in their library. I read an interesting post from “Brain Pickings” on Facebook about the importance of having books at home, even if you’re not going to read all of them. It doesn’t mean you are ignorant or that you’re wastefully spending your money.
Why would you want a book that you’re not going to read?
It’s the energy behind the book that counts. You never know when you’re going to pick it up and just browse through it or use a Snippet for inspiration. I have tons of books that I use for inspiration including poetry and haiku. I also look for book cover ideas, formatting and quotations.
I compare my library to my garden and the books to my flowers. I don’t cut or pick all my flowers, but I enjoy all of them in their natural environment. They inspire and comfort me by their presence.
How do you stay motivated?
Solid motivation is a must to finish your work, whatever it may be. For me motivation is accomplishment. I need to have that feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. The fans are also motivation when they ask you about your next book.
Where do you find inspiration for your work?
All around me in daily happenings, in old magazines and newspapers. I also find inspiration in arts and old pictures.
When I had my book signing at the Lowell Arts Gallery, I was inspired by other artists’ energy and expression.
How do you filter through ideas?
Sometimes, I have too many ideas and I don’t know how to connect them. Then, I have to discard some or jot them down in my diary. I prioritize. Now, that I am working on my second book of short stories, I made an index of them. I can shuffle the stories around, as inspiration comes. You can do the same with book chapters or scenes.
What matters the most?
The most important is every day writing. It doesn’t matter what you write, as long as you write. Later, it will make sense. Establish your own writing routine. Listen to your fans and followers. They are your valuable readers.
Now this all could just be a theory if not put to work.
For more info on “Brain Pickings” go to: https://www.brainpickings.org
Watch for my series “Year in Review.”
Copyright (c) 2017. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.
Don’t Hold Onto #Anger Toward Anybody… Especially Yourself
Let go of anger toward yourself first, then you will be able to forgive others and move forward.
Today’s Challenge: Don’t hang onto #anger toward anybody… especially yourself.
Christmas magic in Fallasburg
Christmases of the past all come together into one during the annual “Christmas in Fallasburg” party set for tomorrow Dec. 9 from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. The public is always welcome. Join us for an evening of camaraderie, food and music.
This party in the 1850s pioneer village is worth traveling to.
ThePatina of time has settled in.
Christmases of the past
By Emma Palova
Fallasburg, MI – The weather outside is frightful with an arctic invasion coming our way, but I am definitely looking forward to tomorrow’s Christmas party in Fallasburg.
It has become a tradition much like baking, shopping and writing Christmas cards. It’s like recapturing part of the past magic of Christmas that we all have experienced as kids.
It’s all the Christmases of the past coming together into one. We each have special memories of Christmas tied to our childhood past.
Every year we meet out there inside the old Fallasburg one-room schoolhouse to share camaraderie, to break bread and enjoy Christmas music.
First you have to cross the Covered Bridge at the speed of no more than a walk. And then you immerse yourself into the magic of the pioneer village.
I live three miles from the village, and I have discovered it…
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The Person of the Year
The person of the year are: The Silence Breakers or the women who spoke out against sexual harassment.
How many times will you exploit women?
Below a photo of toiling women for the Belding Brothers Silk Mills.
Copyright (c) 2017. All rights reserved. 
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