Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Although the 'zoo' had a strict moratorium about the limit of animals in 2007, Hope the baby squirrel crawled her way in. :-)

She's a temporary resident and is scheduled for release in the spring.

My Dream

I have a dream.

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t start by stealing such a famous line, but I really do have a dream.

I envision an online writing community for our teenagers, where they post their essays, stories, poems and opinions in a caring and supportive environment. I want a place where our young people can think and then write about those thoughts.

The written word possesses the element of eternity. If you think I exaggerate, remember the Bible, which stands the test of time. Let’s encourage our young people to write with passion, purpose and power, seeking to touch our contemporary world with spiritual and social significance.

With this in mind, I created a web site for our home schooled teens to express themselves. Yes, I understand about online ‘security’, or perhaps I should say lack of security.

Therefore, our web site has some rules that may put everyone at ease.

--Only my older daughter and I can post to the site. Everyone is invited to send their writing to us and we will post it promptly.
--The individual writers will have their work posted with only their first names or a screen name of their choice.


Okay, this makes our teenagers ‘anonymous’ but I also want to allow interaction between them.


--Everyone can view the site and leave comments.
--Those comments will be monitored daily.

How does that sound? We have a place for our young people to write and a safe atmosphere where they can ‘talk’ to each other.


And to make things even more interesting, I will provide writing prompts, information about contests, and a whole lot of writing-related thoughts.


Would you like your teens to be part of this dream?

What a Mug!

Love has no logic.

I never thought I could love a pug. Throughout my life, I have owned large hairy dogs, like Farrah the Collie and Holly the Samoyed. I hesitate to confess this, but I never thought small dogs were ‘real’ dogs. Hey, they’re even called ‘toy’ dogs! What does that tell you?

So, when my older daughter announced she was saving for a pug, I tried to discourage her. Why not save for an Irish Wolfhound, I asked her.

Every so often she would update us on how much was in her pug fund, making me come to the startling realization that she was actually going to buy a dog someday. Okay, I thought. Let’s see where this leads.

Over two years later, she shows me a chunk of bills (she’s not too keen on stashing her cash in a bank) and asks me to find a pug breeder. The moment of truth was upon us.

I found a breeder about an hour from us, my daughter picked out a male puppy and we headed home. All I know is that somewhere along the way, I lost my heart to this adorable little guy.

His name is Pershey and on July 17th he celebrated his first birthday. He is cute and funny and is the ideal companion dog. He is always near one of us; he hates to be alone, although if we need to put him in his crate for a while he patiently waits for our return.

I recently asked my daughter if I could buy him from her. What happens if she gets married and moves far away, taking Pershey with her? I guess I better start my own pug fund.

As for my daughter, she’s now saving for an alpaca. Don't ask.

Yeah, there is no logic in love. That reminds me of the verse that says:

"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)

God showed His love for us even when we were dead in sins. We weren’t ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’ and there was no earthly reason why He should love us.

But He did.

And then He gave everything to make us one of His children.

I guess it’s a good thing love isn’t logical.

Happy Birthday, Pershey! You’re a lovely dog!

Author Interviews

Anyone who has ever been in my house knows I love books! I have several carefully balanced stacks, which are patiently, although precariously, waiting for bookshelves.

My passion for reading led me to the wonderful world of book reviewing where I've been for the past four years. During that time I've been associated with several different sites, but my favorite one is In the Library Reviews. This site reviews a variety of genres, which fits my style perfectly.

Since I review Christian books for that site, I no longer feel that I am ‘preaching to the choir’. A wider audience reads my reviews and hopefully, my enthusiasm and endorsement of inspirational books will encourage people to meet authors that may draw them closer to the Lord.

For about a year now, I have been privileged to conduct author interviews. At the risk of shamelessly dropping names, here’s a list of some of the wonderful authors I recently ‘met’ online. All of my interviews with them are archived at In the Library Reviews. Also be sure to check out each author’s web site using the links I provided at the right of this page.

 Colleen Coble
 Tom Sullivan
 Deborah Raney
 Diann Mills
 Lisa Samson
 Dr. Richard Land
 Wanda Brunstetter
 Cyndy Salzmann

Yikes! A Yard Sale!

If you’ve ever had a weekend-long yard sale, you probably know how I feel this Monday morning. A lot of thoughts are going around in my head like, “Was it worth it?” and “Would we do it again?”

As for the first question, my answer is: Yes, it was worth it but not for the financial aspect. As a homeschooling mom, I see learning opportunities in seemingly ordinary experiences and our yard sale certainly qualified.

My older daughter learned that she is a skilled organizer and planner, while also realizing that she doesn’t like to wake up before noon on Saturdays!

Our younger daughter has the gift of gab and could probably be a snake oil salesperson if anyone is still selling the stuff. I was amazed at her ‘best buys’ offers, rapidly calculating sales prices and throwing in a few extras to clinch the deal.

As for me, I enjoyed talking to many of the people who came to the sale, although sitting in the driveway for two days was way below my normal activity level.

However, the big question is “Would we do it again?” Perhaps. There is something exciting about feeding the entrepeneurial spirit. The marketing psychology was an interesting aspect, as my daughters and I discussed strategies and compared the buying techniques of our customers.

In fact, the photo shows one of our advertising ideas. It’s been a pet peeve of mine to rummage through buckets or barrels of ‘stuff’ at other people’s yard sales, so we decided to eliminate that. We set up a clothesline across the front of the house and hung stuffed animals on it. It made the yard very colorful, as well as created a browsing-friendly atmosphere.

Yes, a yard sale brings forth a lot of ‘treasures’ that may be hidden in closets or attics. But for my family, it also spotlighted some skills that I plan to nurture in our daughters.

Oh, I bet you’re all waiting to hear how much we made. Well….let’s just say we didn’t jump into a higher tax bracket. Sorry, any more specific information can’t be disclosed in case the IRS reads my blog!

Shadows

Hey, I bet you didn’t recognize me! :-)

I love shadows. In a mystical way, they are the real thing, yet they aren’t. Shadows are made of something tangible, but the shadow itself cannot be contained. Ah....us science geeks love to think about things like this!

I also appreciate the use of foreshadowing in a novel. The author lets the shadow of the future fall across the page, but as a reader I can’t grasp its significance yet.

I recently learned something about shadows in the biblical sense. Genesis 1:26 says, “So God created man in his own image...” The word used for ‘image’ is derived from a Hebrew word referring to a ‘shadow’.

In an amazing spiritual way, I represent the ‘shadow’ cast on the earth by God Almighty! That’s a glorious thought, but it also comes with a tremendous responsibility. How do others see my ‘shadow’? Am I blocking the Light from Heaven, or am I showing forth a clear picture of God’s mercy and grace?

I’ll never look at a shadow the same way again.

Number 7

Do you have a favorite number?

I don't, but there is a number that has given my family a lot of grief lately.

It's number 7.

My older daughter signed up for softball with our city's recreation department. She never played on a 'real' team before, only with our homeschool group in a more informal setting. But she really wanted to play this year and spent hours honing her skills. Hey, even I went in the backyard with her to play catch, and believe me, my softball skills are more than a little rusty. :-)

She was picked on a team and faithfully attended all practices. In fact, she was always the first one there.

Finally, the day came to get the jerseys. Of course, she arrived before anyone else did; in fact, she was a half hour early. The team manager asked if she had a preference and she said she wanted number 11, but unfortunately that size didn't fit.

She took the number 7 she was offered and proudly came home with it.

That was probably the last time she smiled about that jersey.

Two days later, one of the coaches asked her to trade the number 7 with his daughter because "she always wears number 7, ever since she was a little girl". My daughter didn't feel inclined to trade, so she politely said no.

He asked again at the next practice.

His daughter asked just before they took their team photo.

The answer was always no, but now my daughter felt uneasy. She noticed she was being shunned by the coach's daughter and her friends.

When it came time to actually play, she was sent to far away right field. Now and then a ball would come her way, but no matter what she did right, the coach would find a way to yell at her.

Yes, yell at her. Invariably, the first words out of his mouth were, "What's wrong with you?" I wonder where he learned his coaching technique.

When the other girls were up at bat, he would cheer them on, calling them by their names. It was different for my daughter. When she was at the plate, he referred to her as "Number 7". Was that a cheer or a jeer?

Okay, you probably know how this story ends. She quit. She stuck it out for several weeks, but the pain of not having any friends on the team and having a verbally abusive coach wore my teenage daughter down.

She came to play ball and have fun; she didn't expect the coach to make fun of her.

So now a number 7 jersey hangs in her closet and will probably never see a ballfield again.

But what's worse is that my daughter has seen the seedier side of softball.

This coach 'stole' her self-esteem, instead of teaching her to steal bases.

Maybe to him, all he lost was a number 7 jersey and a less-than-perfect player. But he lost a lot more than that.

He lost my daughter's respect.

Softball isn't about winning and losing; it's about how you play the game, both on and off the field.

The number 7 will always remind me that everything I do and say impacts another person.

The Gospel of Matthew has a wonderful description of Jesus:

"A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench..." (Matt. 12:20)

It's a shame my daughter's enthusiasm for softball was quenched by a man who loved a number more than the game.

Flood

Quick...what comes to your mind when you hear the word 'flood'?

Water, right. Maybe something like this photo. No this isn't Niagra Falls; it's the Passaic River in New Jersey.

We recently received over 9 inches of rain in a 2-day period. This storm was dangerous and deadly. Many people were evacuated from their homes, including my husband's parents and his brother's family.

Isn't it amazing that water, which is so necessary for our lives, can cause such destruction?

Too much of a good thing can quickly become a bad thing.

Yet, wouldn't life be absolutely amazing if we could have a 'flood' of other things? Like kindness... or love... or honesty?

I wouldn't mind getting immersed in stuff like that. :-)

My novel...in progress

Yes, I have a novel inside me struggling to get out! :-)

My target audience is Young Adult and because I am surrounded by critters (current count is 20!) animals will be the main characters.

Here is the prologue to my novel. After this point in the story, I'm not sure if I should go with talking animals or write completely from a third-person perspective.

I'd love to hear your thoughts about this!

By the way, the heroine in the story is an American Chinchilla rabbit named Penny. We found her last summer and she is 12 pounds of cuddly love. :-)

*******


The rabbit shifted her weight, uncomfortable in the small box. Her restless nose twitched at the presence of new smells. When the car hit a bump, her head bounced solidly against the top of the box, but the duct tape held securely. The small air holes punched in the cardboard let in a draft of cool night air. She sighed and tried to rest.


When the car finally stopped, she perked up her ears and hoped for release from her cramped quarters. She felt the box being carried and placed on the ground. Someone fumbled with the tape and the sound of it ripping off the cardboard made an annoying screech. Rough hands picked her up and she half-jumped, half-fell to the earth. The soil was damp, releasing unfamiliar and fearful odors.


Through the dimness of early darkness, the rabbit looked up at the little boy who walked slowly to her side. She liked him. He gently patted her head and softly ran his tiny fingers along her body. She relaxed under his touch and hoped to be back home in her comfortable hutch soon.


"Come on, Billy, we have to go." A man’s voice cut through the peaceful moment.


The boy continued to caress the rabbit, as a tear fell onto her fur. The rabbit sensed his sadness and snuggled closer to him.


The man grabbed the boy by his jacket and pushed him to the car. "I said, we gotta go."


"But, daddy, why do we have to leave her?" Tears streamed down his cheeks and his frail body jerked with sobs.


"I told you. That rabbit is too big and she eats too much. We can’t afford to keep her. She’ll be fine here. There’s plenty of food around."


The man scooped the boy in his arms and hastily put him in the car.


The rabbit hopped hesitantly toward the vehicle, wondering when they would pick her up. The engine roared to life while the headlights sliced a painfully bright path. She edged a little closer and wished she could make a sound to remind them she was waiting. The car moved forward quickly, spraying her with dirt and small pebbles. She closed her eyes against the sting and when she opened them again, she was alone.


On the still night air, she heard a tiny voice tearfully call her name. Somehow she knew she must never forget her name.


Copyright 2007 Joyce Handzo

A Tribute to A Friend

Isn't the internet terrific? I've met some wonderful people online who have touched my heart with love and beauty.

One of these special friends is a woman named Shirley Lemons. She wrote this poem for me. Sadly, she is now in a nursing home with a very serious medical problem.

Because of our dear friendship, I have learned the timeless power of words.

Shirley, you will always have a place in my heart.

*******
A Bond of Three

A bond of three
God arranged for us to meet online and little by little our friendship has grown.

We know each other 's souls and often the words are not needed
for the understanding is there.

Our love has grown as we shared this time around His word
and now we are joining hearts in prayer.

God joins and we are a bond of three.

Shirley Lemons

Easter Poem

I wrote this poem several years ago and it hasn't been published...until now.

Can I get an "Amen"?

*******

His Life...and Death

In Life... people welcomed Him and cried Hosanna.
In Death... people stood afar off and wept.

In Life... a donkey carried Him.
In Death... He carried a Cross.

In Life... He went to banquets.
In Death... They gave Him vinegar to drink.

In Life... a woman sought to touch His robe.
In Death... soldiers cast lots for it.

In Life... He was rarely alone.
In Death... He was utterly forsaken.

In Life... He loved me.
In Death... He saved me.

But in the Resurrection...
He has sent me forth...In His Life.


Joyce Handzo
March 27, 2002

Honorable Mention!

The Writer's Chatroom sponsored a contest with the theme "New Beginnings".

I'm thrilled to have received an Honorable Mention, but next time, I want to place a little higher. :)

Here's my winning essay...

A New Beginning?


The gavel banged on the makeshift podium, bringing order to the overexcited crowd murmuring restlessly in the under heated room.

"Welcome to the New World Order!" The speaker’s voice filled the place with power and passion. Roars of approval shook the thin walls while the overhead lights swayed dangerously on their hastily hung cords.

"Since our society successfully survived the nuclear holocaust, we want to create a nation that is forever free from war. We want to establish a society that treats everyone with respect. We want to abolish poverty and prejudice and have all citizens live together in perfect peace. This has never been done in the history of the world, yet we believe this is possible because we have been chosen to survive!"

At this point, the room erupted in frenzied applause, bringing a satisfied smile to the speaker’s lips. When order was finally restored, he continued his speech with an air of restrained excitement.

"Because what we are about to do has been an impossible and elusive dream for centuries, we need the right kind of leader to guide us. The Committee is now opening up the floor to accept recommendations for that position."

Shouts immediately came from around the room, causing the speaker to frantically jot down the ideas with one hand while gesturing for the throng to slow down.

"No Democrats!"

"No Republicans!"

"No men leaders!

"No women leaders!"

"No religious bigots!"

"No liberal sissies!"

An hour later, a hush descended on the group, as their emotions climaxed with a sense of finality. The speaker mopped his brow with a dirty handkerchief and held up the papers he had scribbled upon.

"The Committee will carefully review all of your suggestions and select a leader. Return at noon tomorrow for the inauguration ceremony."

The next day, when the sun climbed overhead and cast a feeble light within the nuclear-altered atmosphere, the crowd returned. A drum beat a steady rhythm, causing the group to sway in unison. Someone rolled a tattered red rug down the center of the room and all eyes turned toward the door.

Those same eyes widened in surprise as a huge, hairy ape walked calmly to the podium. The speaker quickly came alongside the animal, and raised his right paw in the air.
"Behold your leader!"

A few people clapped, while most silently absorbed the shock.

"The Committee has decided to return to our beginnings. Since man descended from primates, it’s only fitting that an ape guide us through this evolution of our society."
While the new leader proceeded to pick fleas from his armpit, most people thought the ape looked strangely familiar.

As the sun crawled to its zenith point, a faint ray struck the Empire State Building, which teetered precariously among the rubble. The huge ape suddenly roared and raced outside. As the citizens of the New World Order watched in horror, their leader began to climb the structure.

They wondered if a new beginning was really possible.

Welcome!

Welcome to the HandZoo, my menagerie of ideas!

I finally decided to get serious about my writing. I'll be posting updates about my work in progress and would love your comments and critiques! :-)