Hi! Winnie Griggs here. (pssst - look for giveaway info at the bottom of this post) I was thumbing through one of those 'infamous women of the old west' type books the other day and  came across a listing for a woman named Pearl Hart. The heading of First Female Captured Stagecoach Robber caught my eye. And the more I read about this woman, the more fascinated I became with her story. I did some additional research and found a number of different, sometimes contradictory, accounts of her life. I’ll stitch together my favorites here. While there is very little know about her early life, we do know that she was born Pearl Taylor in 1871 and lived the early part of her life in Ontario, Canada. She was one of several children born into an upper middle-class, church going family. At age sixteen she was sent to a boarding school, but she had an adventurous spirit that couldn’t be contained. That, combined with her attractiveness and wit made her quite popular with the men of her acquaintance. While at school Pearl became infatuated with a young man named Hart and eloped at about age 17. Hart has variously been described as a rake, a drunk and a gambler. Far from this being the romantic adventure Pearl had hoped for, it turned out Hart was also abusive. She left him and then returned to him several times and it is reported they had two children together. During their last reconciliation, the couple worked odd jobs the Chicago World’s Fair. There Pearl saw Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show and developed a fascination for the cowboy life that would stay with her her entire life. She also visited the Women’s Pavilion where she heard speeches by prominent women’s activists such as Julia Ward Howe. Finally leaving Hart for good, Pearl placed the children in the care of her mother and took up with a man named Dan Bandman, a gambler and dance-hall musician. The two eventually moved to Colorado. Later, when Dan left to fight in the Spanish-American War, Pearl moved to Globe Arizona, a mining town. There are various reports that she may have worked as a cook, a singer, a laundress and/or opened a tent brothel. It is also said that she developed a fondness for cigar and liquor at this time. Pearl described her life at this time in these words: "I was only twenty-two years old. I was good-looking, desperate, discouraged, and ready for anything that might come. I do not care to dwell on this period of my life. It is sufficient to say that I went from one city to another..." Whatever her employment, Pearl’s finances hit bottom when the mine closed. Trying to find a way to earn money, she took up with a man named Joe Boot and together they tried to work an old mine claim he owned. But by 1899 the pair found themselves short on cash and decided to rob a stage, though it appears neither had done anything like this before. One account claims they took this desperate measure because Pearl had gotten word that her mother was ill and needed money, though there is little to substantiate this claim. Pearl cut her hair and dressed up like a man. Both armed with revolvers, they stopped a stage running between Florence and Globe at the Cane Springs Canyon watering point. They collected $421 from the three passengers on board. Pearl then reportedly took pity on them and gave them back each $1.00 so they could buy a meal at the next stop. But their lack of experience did them in. They did a poor job of covering their tracks and within six days the law had caught up with them. One account states that they were sleeping when the posses caught up with them and that while Joe surrendered quickly but Pearl tried, unsuccessfully, to fight her way out. Joe and Pearl were locked in the local jail. But the notoriety and attention Pearl received as a female bandit, coupled with the lack of proper facilities, caused the sheriff to throw up his hands and send her to the jail in Tucson. Pearl’s notoriety grew, and she did all she could to fuel it. Her story about her reason for the robbery (her ailing mother) gained her sympathy, and her avowal that she "would never consent to be tried under a law she or her sex had no voice in making, or to which a woman had no power under the law to give her consent" gained her a whole new level of attention. Never one to give up on her options, within a matter of days Pearl had charmed some of the men at the Tucson prison and managed to escape. Unfortunately for her, a New Mexico lawman recognized her and sent her back to the Tucson prison.   Joe Boot was eventually sentenced to 30 years in jail and Pearl to five. Pearl was given the dubious honor of being the first woman incarcerated into the Yuma Territorial Prison. But neither Pearl nor Joe served their full terms. Joe, apparently due to a show of good behavior, was given trustee status. He walked off while working outside the gates less than two years into his term and was never heard from again. Pearl, on the other hand, gained her freedom legitimately, well, sort of. The warden of the jail where Pearl was imprisoned like all the attention she was attracting from the public and the media. He provided her with a roomy 8 x10 cell as well as a small yard which gave her a space to entertain reporters, photographers and other guests. Pearl, who was the only female incarcerated in the facility, was not above using her wiles to play guards and trustees off of each other to improve her situation. In December of 1902, Pearl received a pardon from the governor and was released free and clear. The official reason for the pardon remains unclear, but it was given on condition that she leave the Arizona territory. Pearl herself claimed that she had been invited to play the lead in a play her sister had penned based on her life and this had played into her release. However, a later rumor emerged that she had became pregnant. The governor, wanting to spare the Arizona Territory the embarrassment of explaining how this could possibly have happened while she was imprisoned, pardoned her and set her free. While there is no proof that Pearl ever bore a third child, this doesn’t mean the wily woman didn’t use this as a ploy to secure her freedom. There are varying accounts of what happened to Pearl after she was released. Some say she parlayed her notoriety into a show business career, billing herself as “The Arizona Bandit.” One account says she traveled for a while with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. A less colorful theory is that she married a rancher named Calvin Bywater and settled down into a quite but happier life. If that last is true, then perhaps Pearl got her “happily ever after” after all. Folks who knew Mrs. Bywater described her as “soft spoken, kind, and a good citizen in all respects.” Mrs. Calvin Bywater lived well into her 80s. As I said earlier, there are a number of different accounts of Pearl’s life and this is only one of them. Her exploits have been featured in theater, film and pulp fiction. There was even a musical called The Legend Of Pearl Hart. And while we may never know the full true story of her life, there is no doubt that she lived it on her own terms.   And, as promised I'm doing a giveaway today.  In honor of my upcoming June release, A Baby Between Them, I'm giving away an advanced copy to one person who leaves a comment today.  Here's a little about this book: For two months, Nora Murphy has cared for the abandoned infant she found on their Boston-bound ship.  Settled now in Faith Glen, Nora tells herself she’s happy.  She has little Grace, and a good job as housekeeper to Sheriff Cameron Long.  She doesn’t need anything more - not the big family she always wanted, or Cam’s love...  A traumatic childhood closed Cam off  to any dreams of family life.  Yet somehow his lovely housekeeper and her child have opened his heart again.  When the unthinkable occurs, it will take all their faith to reach a new future together. Now avaiable for pre-order HERE

A few weeks ago, an article with enchanting pictures in the Los Angeles Times gave me the idea for this blog about “America’s Other Audubon.” Thanks to the Calendar section and Joy Kiser’s new book of the same name, I stumbled across an amazing woman, Genevieve Estelle Jones (1847-1879), who needed her own visit to Wildflower Junction. In the mid-18oo’s, this little girl nicknamed “Gennie” loved accompanying her father, Dr. Nelson Jones, in his buggy on his medical rounds throughout the countryside near their Circleville, Ohio home. Hence the beginning of a lifelong passion for the natural world. To help heal her heartbreak over a broken betrothal, Gennie travelled to Philadelphia for the Centennial Exhibition in 1876 and discovered John James Audubon’s watercolors of birds.  Struck by the beauty of his masterpieces, she decided to illustrate and publish a companion book with pictures of nests and eggs, subjects Audubon did not include in his portfolios. Although her parents were initially alarmed at the expense of such an undertaking,  they soon encouraged her to help distract her from her fragile emotions. Her brother Howard collected the specimens. Also a country doctor like his father, he wrote up the scientific field notes. Childhood friend Eliza Schultz helped Gennie sketch the eggs and nests. Through correspondence, they learned the lithography process and how to draw on both sides of 65-pound lithograph stones. Gennie’s father used his entire retirement savings to produce the books, selling subscriptions to museums, ornithology journals, a Harvard student named Theodore Roosevelt, and even President Rutherford B. Hayes. Dr. Jones’s plan was to produce 100 books sold by subscription in five parts. Colored books would cost $5.00. Black and white versions, $2.50. Part One was released in July 1879 to enthusiastic reviews by naturalists and ornithologists. Tragically, Gennie died only one month after the release at age 32, from a horrific three-week battle with typhoid.  In memory of their beloved sister and daughter, her family continued working on the project. Seven years after her death, the complete “Illustrations of the Nests and Eggs of Birds of Ohio” was first published.    It was definitely a labor of love. For better lighting, Dr. Nelson Jones added a two-room studio with skylight to their barn. Before Eliza left to study art in New York, she taught Gennie’s mother Virginia how to draw on the lithograph stones. More than ninety copies of every life-sized, black and white illustration had to be hand-colored. Two local young women hired to help used the same imported watercolors and paper that Audubon had used. More tragedy struck when Gennie’s brother and mother were also stricken with typhoid, leaving Howard Jones with a damaged heart and mother Virginia nearly blind.  Only 26 intact copies of the original 90 books have been located. I love hearing the birds chirp and sing outside my writing room window. Not long ago, I found a giant American crow’s nest that had blown down from a big tree in our front yard. It sure wasn't as pretty as these beautiful Genevieve Jones illustrations from Princeton Architectural Press. Any bird watchers out there?   Click on cover to purchase. I thank the following blog for information as well.   http://www.sil.si.edu/ondisplay/nestsandeggs/essay.htm       .

Family dinners, pot lucks, buffets--they always feature at least one Jell-O salad. Something red with marshmallows and fruit -- or green with pineapple and whipped cream -- or at holidays -- a cranberry mold. Each of us remembers Jell-O from our earliest years.It’s just always been there. Open the little box, pour the granules into boiling water, and refrigerate. What could be easier?

Years ago I actually bought a fish bowl and created a seascape with blue gelatin and Gummy fish and Gummy worms.It was a laborious task, took a mountain of Jell-O, and the kids all thought it was pretty weird. Yeah, well, that’s me. Every once in a while I still poke holes in a cake and pour Jell-O over it. Chocolate cake with raspberry gelatin is my favorite. How about that time-consuming seven-layer Jell-O? One of my favorites is strawberry pretzel dessert.

My easy strawberry shortcake recipe goes like this:  Bake an angel food cake from a mix. Slice strawberries, mix up a box of  strawberry Jell-o, pour both over the cake and refrigerate. Smear with Cool Whip. You'd think I'd done something brilliant, because this is always a hit.

Am I making you hungry? Bringing back fond food memories?We take gelatin for granted, but our forefathers--or foremothers--went through a much more complicated process to do what we do in minutes.

Before the turn of the century gelatin was a functional food item rather than a treat. Since the days of ancient Greece, jellies and aspics had been used to bind, glaze, and also to preserve foods—like the canned hams we buy today.

To us gelatin is a dessert, but past cooks flavored their gelatins with vinegar, wine, almond extract, and other items to produce a tart product. The foods they glazed were more often meats than sweets.

As long ago as the Renaissance, chefs took pride in constructing elaborate gelatin molds, and no dinner party was complete without at least one jelly construction worthy of the best modern-day wedding cake baker. In the nineteenth century, the most popular mold designs were castles and fortresses complete with doors, windows, and crenellated turrets.

Before this century, the glue needed for gelatin, called collagen, had to be laboriously extracted from meat bones. In the Middle Ages, deer antlers were a popular source of the glue; and later, calves' feet and knuckles. Housewives in the nineteenth century used isinglass, made from the membranes of fish bladders.

Gelatin-making was a daylong affair, requiring the tedious scraping of hair from the feet, hours of boiling and simmering with egg whites to degrease and clarify the broth, and careful filtering through jelly bags or "filtering stools." The transparent finished product was then dried into sheets, leaves, or rounds.

In 1890, Charles B. Knox of Jamestown, New York was watching his wife make calves' foot jelly when he decided that a prepackaged, easy-to-use gelatin mix was just what the housewife needed. Knox set out to develop, manufacture, and distribute the granulated gelatin, while his wife invented recipes for the new kitchen staple.

In 1897, Pearl B. Wait, a NY carpenter and cough medicine manufacturer, developed a fruit-flavored gelatin. His wife, May Davis Wait, named his product Jell-O.Because of the development of the icebox at the end of the century, America was ready for gelatin desserts.

Wait's product found its way to few American tables before it was bought by the food tycoon Frank Woodward, who was already marketing a coffee and tea substitute named Grain-O.Within a few years the genius in packaging, mass marketing, and advertising turned Jell-O into a household word. The 10 cent carton advertised a delicious dessert that was delicate, delightful, and dainty, and the Jell-O trademark of a young girl with carton and kettle in hand soon appeared on store displays, dishes, spoons, and other promotional articles.

To show the housewife how versatile the product was, Woodward's company distributed free booklets with Jell-O recipes. One booklet alone ran to a printing of 15 million copies!

By 1925, Jell-O was a big-money industry. In that year Jell-O joined Postum to form General Foods, today one of the largest corporations in America.By the 1930's, Jell-O had become a way of life. No Sunday dinner was complete without a concoction known as Golden Glow salad, Jell-O laced with grated carrot and canned pineapple and served with gobs of mayonnaise.

Knox Gelatine tried to discourage the rush toward Jell-O with ads warning shoppers to spurn sissy-sweet salads that were 85 percent sugar. While Knox stressed the purity of their odorless, tasteless, sugarless gelatin, Jell-O highlighted their product's versatility.

As for the belief that gelatin is good for the hair and nails, the only claim made by either Jell-O or Knox is that their product may do some good for some people's hair and nails. Sugarfree gelatin is popular among dieters.

In the field of photography, gelatin was introduced in the late 1870s as a substitute for wet collodion. It was used to coat dry photographic plates, marking the beginning of modern photographic methods. Gelatin's use in the manufacture of medicinal capsules occurred in the twentieth century.

Golden Glow Salad

1 package (3 ounces) orange gelatin

1 cup boiling water

1 can (8 ounces) crushed pineapple

1 tablespoon lemon juice Cold water

1/4 teaspoon salt, optional

3/4 cup finely shredded carrots

In a bowl, dissolve gelatin in boiling water. Drain pineapple, reserving juice. Add lemon juice and enough cold water to pineapple juice to make 1 cup; add salt if desired. Stir into gelatin. Chill until slightly set. Stir in pineapple and carrots. Pour into an oiled 4-cup mold; cover and chill until firm. Unmold.

Yield: 6 servings.

<---- Hold everything: You can buy Jell-O on amazon .com.

In my search I discovered Jell-O shots, Jell-O wrestling, Jell-O spokesperson Bill Cosby, Jell-O Jiggler eggs (the kids stepped on one of these on my carpet one Easter – not good) and of course Jell-O molds.

What is your favorite gelatin memory?

Do you have a standby recipe?

If you want to share, post your favorite Jell-O recipe for us.

  Hi! Winnie Griggs here. A little over a week ago we marked the 100^th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.   It got me to thinking about its most famous tie to the American west, the “Unsinkable Molly Brown”. The only things I knew about her were fuzzily remembered scenes from the movie so I figured I’d do a little quick research to find out more. I learned she was born in Hannibal,Missouri on July 18, 1867 and christened Margaret Tobin.  Her father was an Irish immigrant employed as a ditch-digger and the family was on the very low end of the social and financial spectrum. As a teenager she followed one of her brothers to Leadville, Colorado where he hoped to make his fortune in the silver mines there.  She served as cook for her brother and found work as a seamstress in a local store. Eventually she met J.J.Brown, a mining superintendent and the two were soon an item.  Of the courtship, one source credits Margaret as saying

“I wanted a rich man, but I loved Jim Brown. I thought about how I wanted comfort for my father and how I had determined to stay single until a man presented himself who could give to the tired old man the things I longed for him. Jim was as poor as we were, and had no better chance in life. I struggled hard with myself in those days. I loved Jim, but he was poor. Finally, I decided that I'd be better off with a poor man whom I loved than with a wealthy one whose money had attracted me. So I married Jim Brown.”  

They were wed in 1886.  They had a son, Lawrence, in 1887 and their daughter Catherine  made her appearance two years later.  In the early years, Margaret and J.J. struggled financially.  But J.J.’s instrumental involvement in a silver strike in his employer’s mine changed all of that and the Browns became very wealthy indeed.  The family eventually moved to Denver where Margaret, in a nod to the societal conventions, familiarized herself with the arts and became fluent in several foreign languages. Alas, their love match did not last forever.  In 1909, after 23 years of marriage, J.J. and Margaret separated, though they never divorced and it appears they remained amicable for the remainder of their days.   As part of the separation agreement, Margaret received a very generous settlement and allowance, which allowed her to continue her travels and social work. Which brings us to her being aboard the ill-fated Titanic.  Margaret was one of the lucky ones who made it aboard a lifeboat.  It is said she helped in the evacuation and that she took up an oar herself to help row the boat away from the wreckage.  She also strongly urged the crewman in charge of the lifeboat to go back to try to see if more people could be saved.  Her exhortations were met with strong opposition due to fears that the boat would be swamped by desperate swimmers.  Reports vary as to whether they did in fact eventually go back and whether or not anyone was rescued. What’s not in doubt, however, is that when the survivors were rescued by the crew of the Carpathia, she worked tirelessly to help provide physical and emotional comfort to the other survivors.  By the time the ship reached New York, Margaret had established the Survivor’s Committee and raised nearly $10,000 for those survivors who lost everything.  She helped erect the Titanic Memorial in Washington D.C but to her annoyance found that as a woman she was barred from participation in the Titanic hearings. Margaret was also a philanthropist and activist in other areas.  Some of her more notable contributions:

• Helped establish the Colorado chapter of the National American Woman Suffrage Association
• She worked in soup kitchens to help the families of miners
• Was a charter member of the Denver Woman’s Club
• Assisted in the fund raising for Denver’s Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
• Worked with a  judge to come to the aid of indigent children and to establish the nation’s first juvenile court - this helped form the basis of the current day U.S juvenile court system
• She twice ran for the U.S Senate
• During WW I she worked with the American Committee for Devastated France,  helping to establish a relief station for soldiers.  She was later awarded the French Legion Of  Honor.

Oh, and one last interesting fact that I learned - during her lifetime she was called Margaret, Margie and Maggie, but never Molly!

On April 16, 1912, American aviator Harriet Quimby became the first woman to fly across the English Channel....traveling from Dover to France in only 59 minutes. She was also the first woman ever licensed as a pilot in the United States. Sadly, her great accomplishment was swallowed by the horrifying news flashing around the world: Titanic Sinks. Known as America’s First Lady of the Air, Harriet was a Michigan farm girl born May 11, 1875. With her family, she moved to California when she was twelve. In later years, she gave May 1, 1884, as her birthdate, her birthplace as Arroyo Grande, California, and claimed her parents were wealthy. Becoming a New York journalist and a screenwriter for pioneer filmmaker D.Q. Griffith, for whom she wrote seven screenplays, Harriet was also a drama critic and photojournalist. She traveled on assignment to Europe, Mexico, Cuba, and Egypt for Leslie’s Illustrated Weekly, a popular women’s journal. Among her other writing duties were advice columns and car repair tips. She was truly the independent career woman who drove her own car, even smoked the very unladylike cigarette. In October 1910, she went to France to cover a story on an aviation tournament and caught the flying bug. She took lessons with a friend and continued instruction even after he died in a flying accident. By then, the press had caught interest in her and considered her foray into aviation newsworthy enough to cover it. The second woman in the world to be licensed as a pilot (the first was Frenchwoman Baroness de Roche), Harriet was the first American to do so, having passed her pilot’s test on August 1, 1911. She was awarded license #37 from the Aero Club of America, an adjunct of the International Aeronautic Federation which granted international pilots’ licenses. Immediately after receiving her license, Harriet began exhibition flying and toured throughout the country and Mexico. Although a woman prior to Harriet had crossed the English Channel in a plane, she was just a passenger, and Harriet ached to be the first female to pilot the route.  In March 1912, she secretly sailed to England and borrowed a 50 HP monoplane from Louis Bleriot, who in 1909, had been the first person ever to fly across the English Channel. On April 16, Harriet flew his identical route but in reverse. When she left Dover at dawn, overcast skies forced her to rely solely on her compass for position. About an hour later, she landed near Calais, France, thirty miles from her planned landing spot. Of course, news of her achievement was sparsely covered with good reason, the Titanic tragedy. But Harriet’s spirit sailed on but only for three short months. On July 1, 1912, she participated in the Third Annual Boston Aviation Meet over Boston Harbor. With event organizer William Willard as her passenger, Harriett circled Boston Lighthouse. To the horrified spectators below, the two-seater plane, flying at 1,500 hundred feet, suddenly lurched. Willard fell out and plunged to his death. Moments later, Harriet fell out of the plane and was killed as well. The plane glided to a landing in the mud flats below. Theories on the accident abounded. Some claimed cables tangled in the plane. Some posited that Willard shifted his weight, causing imbalance. Nonetheless, neither appeared to be wearing their seat belts. Harriet was buried first at Woodlawn Cemetery in New York, finally resting at Kenisco Cemetery, Valhalla New York. Her career was short --only 11 months, but she was a role model for generations and inspired Amelia Earhart.  In 1991, she was featured on a fifty-cent air mail stamp. Although my next release, Soul Food, has nothing to do with an aviation pioneer, I am giving away (pdf) copies of the first two books in the series today. Hearts Crossing Ranch and Redeeming Daisy. Hopefully to inspire you to want to read book five. If you already own or have read either story, I will send you Books Three and Four, Sanctuary and Right to Bragg. Any kind of mix and match. So please leave a comment.   Now, for today’s big question:  Have you ever flown a plane? Hang-glided? Hot air ballooned? BASE-jumped? Zip-lined?  Ridden in a helicopter or private jet?  Anything other than commercial air-travel that takes you off terra firma?  As for me, you may recall I’m terrified of down escalators...

While exiting the grocery store on Saturday, I came across a troop of Girl Scouts selling cookies. I got a box of thin mints and began an immediate hobble down memory lane. For eight years during my girlhood, I was a scout, and I joined up again for the years my daugher was one. I not only learned how to mark a trail, put up a tent, make a meal in a coffee can, and tie every knot imaginable, but I also learned to knit and sew, practice charm school behavior and babysit, all in my quest for merit badges. I still have my sash. Then I learned that this very week marks the one hundredth anniversary of Girl Scouting in America. And I owe all of those happy memories and girlhood accomplishments to Juliette Gordon Low. She was born Juliette Magill Kinzie Gordon on Halloween, 1860, into a prominent Savannah, Georgia family.  Her dad was a Confederate captain and after the war, a volunteer militiaman in Savannah.  Her family’s prosperity permitted Juliette an outstanding education in top-notch private schools. Her aptitudes included sculpture and animal sciences. Nicknamed “Daisy” she contracted a serious ear infection that was treated with silver nitrate. Unfortunately, the treatment caused significant hearing loss. In 1886, at her marriage to William Mackay Low, a grain of wedding rice lodged in her ear, the removal of which damaged nerves and caused complete deafness. She and “Willy” resided in his native England for the next 19 years. Although she and her husband were members of high society, the marriage turned unhappy with Willy’s philandering and drinking. Divorce proceedings were instigated, but Willy died suddenly in 1905 before a final decree. Most of his money was left to his mistress, leaving Daisy despirited. For several years, she traveled throughout Eurupe and India. At a luncheon in England in 1922, she met Lord Robert Baden-Powell, founder of the British Boy Scouts, and her interest in the scounting movement was immediate and profound. That year, she organized a troop of “Girl Guides,” Britain’s female equivalent, at her estate in Glenlyon, Scotland. Her first outreach was for poor girls. Then she created two troops in London. On March 12, 1912, Daisy established the first Girl Scout troop in her hometown of Savannah. Thanks to her ethusiastic promotion, the movement grew rapidly and officially became the Girl Scouts of America in 1913. In 1915, the organization was incorporated  with a national headquarters in Washington D.C., with Daisy as president. In 1919, she was official representative at the first international meeting of the Girl Scouts and the Girl Guides, and in 1920, she was bestowed the title of “founder.” Not only did Daisy devote her own time and finances to scouting, she tirelessly sought support and contributions from communities around the country. Her attempts to merge with the Campfire Girls, however, failed to materialize. Daisy oversaw the first Girl Scout Handbook, and was so involved and “hands on” she was beloved by girls everywhere. After a cancer diagnosis in 1923, Daisy kept her illness a secret and tirelessly continued her efforts. She helped organize the world Girl Scout camp in the U.S. in 1926. When she passed away in January, 1927, she was buried in the scout uniform. Membership in the Girl Scouts at that time numbered 168,000. Were you or your daughters Girl Scouts or Campfire? What are your favorite memories of those times?

If you’ve visited the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, you’ve likely seen them—striking structures fashioned of weathered brick and rustic timbers, rising out of the red earth as if they’d been there for centuries.  They look as if they could be Indian ruins or remnants of old Spanish haciendas.  The truth—these buildings sprang from the creative genius of a unique American woman named Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter. Born in 1869, Mary Colter traveled with her family through frontier Minnesota, Colorado and Texas.  When her father died in 1886, she needed a way to support her mother and sister.  After graduating from the California School of Design in San Francisco, she returned to St. Paul, Minnesota where she taught mechanical drawing at Mechanic Arts High School.  But she was destined for bigger things.   Enter Fred Harvey, the man who forged a tourism empire in the American Southwest.  Harvey may be best known for his bevy of pretty, wholesome Harvey Girls who came west to work in his hotels. But Mary Colter was never a Harvey girl.  In 1901 Harvey hired her to decorate the interior of the Alvarado Hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  Her talents were recognized, and she began working full-time for Harvey’s company in 1910, moving from interior designer to architect. As one of the few female architects in the country (although she was never licensed) Mary Colter completed 21 projects in 30 years for Fred Harvey.  She created a series of landmark hotels in places like Santa Fe, Gallup, New Mexico and Winslow, Arizona.  But her most famous and enduring work was done at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Because she was fascinated with Native American architecture and the landscape of the Southwest, her Grand Canyon buildings took on this flavor and became her signature works.  She was a perfectionist with a reputation for bossiness, creating structures that looked ancient and rugged as soon as they were finished. A chain-smoker, she often wore pants and a Stetson.  She knew how to shoot a pistol and was an avid collector of Indian jewelry.  Her collection numbered about a thousand pieces, and she wore rings on every finger. Mary Colter lived to the age of 88.  By the end of her life, many of her important buildings had been abandoned or torn down.  Disheartened, she told a reporter, “There is such a thing as living too long.” Her Grand Canyon buildings, however, have been preserved.  If you go there you can see them today, in all their haunting beauty. Here's a link to more photos of her work:  http://www.friendsof1800.org/COLTER/colter.html Have you seen Mary Colter's buildings at Grand Canyon?  Do you have a favorite piece of architecture somewhere?

Frances Wright grew up as an orphaned Scottish heiress, but instead of leading a life of luxury, she indulged herself in a lifetime of learning. Her prominent calls for reform paved the way for women into the next century. A Greek scholar as a girl, she wrote and published plays. She and her younger sister Camilla came to America in 1818 to see one of those plays. After observing her surroundings while traveling, she wrote Views of Society and Manners in America. The book, ahead of its time, was widely read in Europe and established the author’s reputation as a savant. During her travels, she met former presidents, Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. The tour gave her a first glimpse at slavery, after which she threw herself into abolitionism and wrote another book. Besides her efforts through the written word, she bought 640 acres of wilderness near Memphis and created a place where slaves could learn skills and adapt to freedom. Fanny continued writing and lecturing, and in the late 1820s she took a position on equal property rights and equal educational opportunities for women. Ahead of her time, she promoted fair divorce laws and accessible birth control. Public speaking was an activity reserved for men, and Fanny took sharp criticism. Scandalous gossip was directed at her, preachers denounced her, and the press characterized her as “a female monster whom all decent people ought to avoid.” Tall and imposing, she was eloquent and her speeches effective. Her signature look was an all-white suit or dress, and she carried a copy of The Declaration of Independence, often referring to it. In 1829 she founded the Workingmen’s Association in New York City and in the 1830s was a supporter of the Jacksonian democracy. In 1831 she married. After having two children, she wrote a book in 1838 calling for world government. She divorced in 1852, perhaps utilizing those divorce laws she’d fought so hard for, and died a few months later after falling on the ice. Fanny Wright will live on in history as the first female public speaker and a fierce advocate for women’s rights. I admire strong women. Meredith Abbot in my October Christmas novella is just that. Daughter of a railroad tycoon, the only thing expected of her is to marry well. She's doing her best, but a snowstorm and a sexy U.S. Marshal derail her plans. When outlaws ambush their Pullman, Jonah Cavanaugh discovers Meredith is no shrinking violet. I'd love to send an advance copy to someone who comments today!

LADY GYPSY was my 2nd book with Dorchester and was initially released the month the Towers came down.  For those of us unfortunate enough to have new releases out during that chaotic time, our distribution took a huge hit.  There were days when I wondered if my book ever got out of the New York warehouse. Thanks to the raging popularity of ebooks, though, LADY GYPSY is alive again and has reminded me how fascinating Gypsies were.  Liza, the heroine, is one of my all-time favorites.  Fathered by a Gaje (non-Gypsy) she never knew, she and her Gypsy mother are outcasts by her people.  By the sheer nature of her story and the life she was forced to live,  she's unique and colorful.  The way I depicted her with the obstacles she must overcome were true. Let me share with you some of the Gypsy ways: Scratching - Most Gypsies were highly suspicious of the Gaje.  When they encountered one they deemed unwelcome, they would scratch themselves or start coughing violently, giving the implication they possessed a skin or lung ailment which quite effectively sent the Gaje scurrying.  They would take this skill into the Gaje stores, too, a butcher shop, for example.  After scratching and scratching, they would freely touch hams or sausages.  The disgusted butcher would send them on their way with the 'soiled' meat free of charge or at a drastically reduced price. With their possessions few, from time to time the Gypsy would stop at a farmhouse and 'borrow' something they needed, say a pair of scissors or an old pot.  The Rom (Gypsies) found it unecessary to return the item to its owner; they would simply leave it behind when they were finished with it.  In their minds, they weren't 'keeping' the item, and besides, another kumpania (family group) would come along and could use it as well. Vurma - leaving signs or messages along a trail.  If a Gypsy had to break camp quickly to avoid the police, they would leave signs for family members left behind.  They'd hang bits of material or lengths of colored thread on tree branches slightly higher than the normal range of vision, choosing branches pointing in the direction they'd left.   Pinecones, small heaps of stones, chicken bones, broken glass, etc. would be used, too, pointing the way if there were no trees along the road. Ghost Vomit (Johai) -  The Rom believed a spirit called 'little grandmother' (Mamioro) brought disease and fed on filth.  They believed she left behind ghost vomit (slime found on garbage) which could heal Gypsy ills.  Mixed with flour and baked until it was hard, the Gypsy would chip off small pieces and carry it in their bujo, a small medicine bag.  Johai would be mixed with garlic and pepper and other herbs, placed in a small bag, then sewn into an unbaptized child's clothing, for example, or a sick person's clothing, to keep them safe. Marhime - Most of us think of Gypsies as being eternally dirty in their shabby clothes, uncombed hair and bare feet, but in truth, they were fanatics in their cleanliness rituals.  A woman was considered marhime (dirty) from the waist down.  If her skirt hems touched a man besides her husband, he was soiled by her and considered unclean, a source of shame amongst the kumpania.  If her skirts brushed against plates, cups or drinking glasses, they had to be destroyed.  While parked along a riverbank, a kumpania followed five different orders for drawing water.  Water for cooking and drinking was taken farthest upstream; next to that, water for washing dishes and bathing.  Farther downstream, water for horses, then water for washing clothes, and lastly, the water used for the clothes of pregnant or menstruating women.  Right down to using separate buckets for each use. However odd we might think it, this custom of considering women marhime assured her of both privacy and protection, giving her dignity, power, and a sense of mystery to men.  Not necessarily a bad thing, eh? These are only a few of the strange Gypsy beliefs that I"ve incorporated into Liza's world.   To read more:

LADY GYPSY, Kindle Edition

LADY GYPSY, Nook Edition

Also available at Smashwords!

Do you know of any other customs, Gypsy or otherwise?  Do you or your family have any quirks the rest of us would think a bit strange?

With all the recent hoopla about Paul Revere’s ride going on LOL, I came across a valiant young woman who fell through the cracks of history. Sybil Ludington, America’s female Paul Revere, took a night time ride through Dutchess County, New York in 1777 to warn the militia that the British were burning the town of Danbury, Connecticut. She was 16. 

Sybil, whose name is spelled many ways (she herself signed “Sebal” to her Revolutionary War Pension application), was one of twelve children born to a respected officer of the 7th Regiment of the Dutchess County Militia. Colonel Henry Ludington later became an aide for General George Washington. 

She had just turned sixteen in April 1877 when twenty transports and six warships bearing a total of 2,000 British troops landed at Fairfield, Connecticut, moving eight miles inland. They harmed no private property along the way.  They were after the storehouses of Continental Army supplies that had recently been moved to Danbury, Connecticut for safe keeping. Unfortunately, the stores of food, tents, clothing, wine and rum were poorly guarded. Rather than destroy the wine and rum, British soldiers consumed it, and drunken troops started fires as military discipline waned.  Messengers were set afield to announce the arrival of the British and the fires.  Upon hearing the news from a messenger, Colonel Ludington tried to round up his scattered 400-man militia, but night had fallen thick and stormy. The exhausted messenger, unfamiliar with the outlying area, was of little help. So Sybil stepped up to ride out and alert the settlers.  Whether she volunteered or her father instructed her with the route, no one knows for sure. What is known is, Sybil began her ride in heavy rain about nine p.m. She traveled 40 miles from her home. Returning the next day, she not only had avoided capture by British soldiers in the area, but had outrun British loyalists, and “Skinners” –outlaws who cared about neither side.  Although Colonel Ludington’s militia arrived too late to save Danbury, they fought the Brits as they left the area. After the war, Sybil married a Catskill lawyer, Edmond Ogden, and had one son, Henry. Upon her death at 77 in February, 1839, Sybil was buried near her father in the historic Maple Avenue Cemetery in Patterson, NY. Today, historical markers trace her route, and a sculpture by artist Anna Huntington commemorates Sybil’s ride can be seen on the shore of Lake Geneida in Carmel NY.  Poet Berton Braley penned a clever take on Longfellow: Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of a lovely feminine Paul Revere Who rode an equally famous ride Through a different part of the countryside, Where Sybil Ludington's name recalls A ride as daring as that of Paul's. In April, Seventeen Seventy-Seven, A smoky glow in the eastern heaven (A fiery herald of war and slaughter) Came to the eyes of the Colonel's daughter. "Danbury's burning," she cried aloud. The Colonel answered, "'T is but a cloud, A cloud reflecting the campfires' red, So hush you, Sybil, and go to bed." "I hear the sound of the cannon drumming" "'T is only the wind in the treetops humming! So go to bed, as a young lass ought, And give the matter no further thought." Young Sybil sighed as she turned to go, "Still, Danbury's burning--that I know." Sound of a horseman riding hard Clatter of hoofs in the manoryard Feet on the steps and a knock resounding As a fist struck wood with a mighty pounding. The doors flung open, a voice is heard, "Danbury's burning--I rode with word; Fully half of the town is gone And the British--the British are coming on. Send a messenger, get our men!" His message finished the horseman then Staggered wearily to a chair And fell exhausted in slumber there. The Colonel muttered, "And who, my friend, Is the messenger I can send? Your strength is spent and you cannot ride And, then, you know not the countryside; I cannot go for my duty's clear; When my men come in they must find me here; There's devil a man on the place tonight To warn my troopers to come--and fight. Then, who is my messenger to be?" Said Sybil Ludington, "You have me." "You!" said the Colonel, and grimly smiled, "You!" My daughter, you're just a child!" "Child!" cried Sybil. "Why I'm sixteen! My mind's alert and my senses keen, I know where the trails and the roadways are And I can gallop as fast and as far As any masculine rider can. You want a messenger? I'm your man!" The Colonel's heart was aglow with pride. ": Spoke like a soldier. Ride, girl, ride Ride like the devil; ride like sin; Summon my slumbering troopers in. I know when duty is to be done That I can depend on a Ludington!" So over the trails to the towns and farms Sybil delivered the call to arms. Riding swiftly without a stop Except to rap with a riding crop On the soldiers' doors, with a sharp tattoo And a high-pitched feminine halloo. "Up! up there, soldier. You're needed, come! The British are marching!" and the drum Of her horse's feet as she rode apace To bring more men to the meeting place. Sybil grew weary and faint and drowsing, Here limbs were aching, but still she rode Until she finished her task of rousing Each sleeping soldier from his abode, Showing her father, by work well done, The he could depend on a Ludington. Dawn in the skies with its tints of pearl And the lass who rode in a soldier's stead Turned home, only a tired girl Thinking of breakfast and then of bed With never a dream that her ride would be A glorious legend of history; Nor that posterity's hand would mark Each trail she rode through the inky dark, Each path to figure in song and story As a splendid, glamorous path of glory-- To prove, as long as the ages run, That "you can depend on a Ludington." Such is the legend of Sybil's ride To summon the men from the countryside A true tale, making her title clear As a lovely feminine Paul Revere!