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    Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories
    Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories
    Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories
    Ebook230 pages2 hours

    Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories

    By Lisa Shea, Pat Jackman Altomare, Joann Braam and

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    About this ebook

    Massachusetts was first settled over 7,000 years ago. It has a long and storied history. From the Salem Witch Trials to the birthplace of Dr. Seuss, from
    Louisa May Alcott to Edgar Allen Poe, Massachusetts offers a range of fascinating, evocative, and historically important moments to explore and understand.

    Enjoy the works of these fifteen local authors as they celebrate the rich history, legacy, and beauty of Massachusetts.

    Some essays talk about our own histories – what it was like to grow up in the 1930s 
    and 1940s. How Worcester has changed since the 1960s. Traditional recipes treasure fond memories of our grandparents. We explore the tumultuous times of the King Philip's War where natives came up against the waves of newcomers.

    Other works celebrate our world of now. There are tales of fishing off of Boston 
    and of exploring Cape Cod. Poems about shells and beloved pets.

    Fictional stories explore the world that might be. There's a spooky look at the 
    Spider Gates Cemetery in Leicester. A playful romp at Water's Farm in Sutton. 
    A Dorky Dad becomes a minuteman. A young woman faces the life-lessons of revenge.

    Sit back, relax, and enjoy our journeys through Massachusetts!

    Authors featured in this compilation are:

    Pat Jackman Altomare
    Joann Braam
    Patty Cahill
    Linda DeFeudis
    Steve Hague
    Michelle Markey
    Bob Marrone
    S. M. Nevermore
    Jane Nozzolillo
    Lily Penter
    Jane R. Richardson
    Kevin Paul Saleeba
    Lisa Shea
    Ophelia Sikes
    Tracy Vartanian

    The Sutton Writing Group supports local shelters and food pantries.
     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLisa Shea
    Release dateDec 17, 2016
    ISBN9781386279846
    Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories
    Author

    Lisa Shea

    I love writing in a variety of genres. I currently have over 300 books published in all lengths from full 500+ page novels down to short stories. I love writing series. Some are with unconnected characters, like the 14 full-length medieval novels with a sword being passed from heroine to heroine. Some have connected characters, like the 31 mini-mysteries featuring a detective in Salem, Massachusetts. All of my books are written "clean" with no explicit intimacy, no harsh language, and no explicit violence. All are suitable for teens and up. For a full listing of my books please visit: http://www.lisashea.com/lisabase/writing/gettingyourbookpublished/lisalibrary.html

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      Book preview

      Massachusetts Calling - A Compilation of Short Stories, Recipes, Poetry, Memories, and Histories - Lisa Shea

      Introduction

      Massachusetts is a state rich with beauty and history. At 183 miles wide by 113 miles tall we’re known for rolling hills, quiet farms, and rocky coastline. The state was named after the Massachusetts tribe – the tribe’s name means People of the Great Hills. The Massachusetts people were descendants of the paleo-Indians who first arrived in this region around 7,000 years ago.

      Some feel the Vikings visited or even settled in Massachusetts for a while during the Middle Ages. But it was the arrivals from England who truly changed the future of this region.

      As most schoolchildren in the United States are taught, the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock in 1620. But did you know they first came ashore on Cape Cod, near Truro? They had been hoping to continue south to warmer Virginia but harsh seas made them stay put. In fact, even after moving the ship to Plymouth they holed up on board all through that harsh winter, only emerging in late March to start building their homes.

      Amazingly, from that small beginning, by 1670 there were over 52,000 colonists in Massachusetts – over three times the number of the natives. The King Philip’s war in the 1670s brought the clash of cultures into sharp relief.

      Some of our works talk about this tumultuous time in Massachusetts’ history. Some essays talk about our own histories – what it was like to grow up in the 1930s and 1940s. How Worcester has changed since the 1960s. Traditional recipes treasure fond memories of our grandparents.

      Other works celebrate our world of now. There are tales of fishing off of Boston and of exploring Cape Cod. Poems about shells and beloved pets.

      Fictional stories explore the world that might be. There’s a spooky look at the Spider Gates Cemetery in Leicester. A playful romp at Water’s Farm in Sutton. A Dorky Dad becomes a minuteman. A young woman faces the life-lessons of revenge.

      Massachusetts has a long, storied history. We are the birthplace of Emily Dickinson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, Edgar Allen Poe, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. We are known for the Salem Witch Trials, being the first state to allow gay marriage, and the tragedy of the Boston Marathon Bombing. Nantucket was once the center of the whaling industry. Dr. Seuss was born and grew up in Springfield. Alexander Graham Bell made his first phone call to Watson at Boston University. In modern times we celebrate the cutting-edge discoveries of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard University.

      Sit back, relax, and enjoy our exploration of Massachusetts!

      The Sutton Writing Group supports local shelters and food pantries.

      Offshore - Marshfield and Cape Cod

      By Bob Marrone

      Early morning on a boat leaving Marshfield, MA boat ramp; snaking our way through a crowded marina still asleep in the darkness. The narrow lanes through the tightly packed boats are treacherous beyond the narrow light beam guiding the way. The boat’s light finds the first buoy leading the way to the big blue.

      It is darkest before the dawn.

      Then the first sliver of light, the clouds slowly illuminating in splendid hues, the slow return of three dimensions as the light touches the waves. The eerie calm that is dawn a preamble to the tempest of the day. The sea has surprises and in the soul lifting beauty of the new day, one mumbles a prayer for a safe return, without fear, only knowing that what hand could create this serene moment of beauty and promise is capable of anything.

      We are out on the ocean, heading to Stellwagen Bank, two fishing friends hoping to harvest some bounty from a reluctant source. We are aware that just being here is magical and wonderful, catching our dinner a dividend.

      As the sun rises it seems to lift life to the water’s surface with it. A large meandering sunfish, its angled fin a telltale to its unique presence. Birds circle or sit on the surface waiting for a feed of baitfish that we hope will bring bigger fish too. The cool air of morning slowly surrenders to the heat of the sun and warmer winds. A school of porpoise slices through the surf, elegant and graceful. The occasional seal frolics in the water, its playful way comical.

      Soon a Minke or Humpback whale is seen, the latter being much larger and more entertaining with is ability to fully breach the water in a jump to the light. We see pods of Humpback rising out of the sea and opening their mouths to drain water while retaining large amounts of baitfish. The birds dive into the whale’s mouths to recover some of the bait themselves or dive into the surrounding water where escaping bait cannot dive or swim fast enough to avoid capture.

      The moment of choreographed beauty an apparent show of nature’s great plan to share its resources with all species that exist together in relative harmony. Now you sense the natural order and balance of things and the wonder is awe-inspiring. We are a part of it all at that moment.

      Without warning there is a whale under the boat. It is exhaling air as it returns to the surface for a new breath, the water an airy light green. There is the exhale, the arched back, then a massive tail, this time instead of following the rest of the body in a graceful arch, pointing straight up in the air before the whale sounds deeper to unknown depth and who knows where, its direction and speed now covered by the water’s cloak.

      Under the surface a vast array of species dynamically altering the neighborhood. There are sharks that move baitfish away from the area, Mako and Great Whites being the most formidable, lured by seals, commanding total respect and getting it. There is bluefish, cod, haddock, herring, mackerel, pollock, and the striped bass, a major game fish for sportsmen. We are after Bluefin tuna, elusive, fast, magnificent with their perfect design: Fins that fold into body cavities and eyes that are flush with their profile for maximum hydrodynamic efficiency.

      The quest for the tuna is difficult and long. It involves lures and rigs designed to mimic live bait and grab attention. In one case we will troll using spreader bars designed to look like squid running on the surface. Another time we can use live bait, hooked to a line running up to a kite in the sky meant to keep the bait near the surface and swimming. There is jigging, refined to a high state by the Japanese consisting of dropping a heavy lure down into the water, then bringing it up with a jerking motion while turning the reel handle fast so the fish will see and chase it to the surface.

      No matter how, the game is afoot trying to first find, and then lure the tuna to the hook. When we finally catch one it is three feet long, a size we can legally keep, but decide to let it return to the fathoms to grow and be strong. It is the right decision.

      Gradually we move the boat closer to shore, off the Cape, near the golf ball and Provincetown. Striped bass strike our baited lines; they are keeper sized but quickly released. Bigger fish is the quest this day.

      Getting later now, the day is ending. Time to race the tide to the dock, load the boat on the trailer, and head back to family and daily life. The glow of the day will linger with the knowledge that we shall return.

      Two Guys go to Waters Farm …

      By Lily Penter

      As planned, BD and Charlie arrive early.

      Aargh!

      What’s wrong, Charlie?

      Charlie is a few steps ahead of BD and he turns back to glare.

      What’s wrong?!! This grass is soaking wet – now my legs are, too! I thought they were supposed to mow it but it’s practically up to my eyeballs! I bet I’m covered in ticks already. I’ll need a head to toe tick check when we get home!

      BD snorts "Well, don’t look at me. And it’s not that tall and they did mow it. Funny thing about grass – it grows, ya know? Anyway I thought you were tough. A little dew gets you in a tizzy?"

      I am tough! And what’s this ‘tizzy’, BD - huh? I just didn’t plan on spending the morning squishing and dripping around Waters Farm. I’ll bet I won’t even be able to get in for the house tour looking like this.

      BD is a warm-hearted, sympathetic guy but at this he can’t help rolling his eyes. This is something he does often and well.

      We came in early, before the admission booth even opened. It’s a gorgeous fall morning. Who cares about some dumb house? They probably wouldn’t let you in anyway – wet legs or no. And I can smell coffee. Where there’s coffee, there’s donuts – maybe custard filled… let’s go!

      The Scouts who will direct the parking and the ticket sellers who will handle admissions haven’t arrived yet, so the two pals, one wet and disgruntled, the other wet and excited, trot through the field unmolested. Charlie is lifting his legs high and stepping down carefully as if that will keep the dew off of him. BD is bouncing up and down trying not to explode with frustration.

      C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, stop prancing – those donuts aren’t going to eat themselves.

      That doesn’t even make sense, BD. And I am coming – you have longer legs than me.

      O.K., I’ll carry you.

      That makes Charlie laugh and the aura of gloom evaporates, even though the dew remains.

      Yep, that’s the way to be discrete! Can you imagine the looks?

      Their plan is to act casual and happy, like they know what they’re doing. They don’t want any adults to start wondering why they are unaccompanied.

      They chuckle companionably as they stroll side by side, casual and happy, into the main enclosure.

      Waters Farm is a stunning New England property in Sutton, Massachusetts with rolling fields and large stands of trees, numerous barns and a very old, rather small house. It was once a summer retreat for people from New York City. It is always lovely, but in early autumn its position overlooking a stretch of colorful trees down to the waters of Lake Manchaug make it breathtaking.

      Waters Farm Days, the first weekend in October, is a chance for the public to tour the grounds and take part in old time activities like making cider, cutting shingles and eating apples baked with brown sugar and oats.

      The two friends see eye-to-eye on most of the activities – face painting – no way; ice cream eating – for sure; pony rides – probably not, though Charlie is tempted; kicking through the brightly colored leaves to create a satisfying crunch- Charlie says OK, BD says yes ,yes, yes!

      Once we’ve covered the basics – you know - apple crisp, ice cream, burgers, those Italian sausages with peppers– I want to go and see the steam engines, says Charlie.

      Whoa – major yawn says BD. I’ll go and see the horses while you do that. Then we can get a bite to eat and head home. No one will even know we were gone.

      You think?

      "Uh, no, not really. But a day like this is worth any punishment, don’t you think?

      Hmm. Charlie has a lot more imagination than BD, so he thinks of some pretty horrible punishments. But he knows what BD means and nods agreeably.

      We’re too old for spanking, aren’t we Charlie? And too young to be grounded or whatever they do to teenagers?

      Charlie nods. He certainly hopes so.

      * * *

      Annelise pulls her thick, curly, fair hair (‘no color’ hair Jeff had called it, Why don’t you try a henna rinse or some highlights?) into a loose, thick, curly, fair pony tail to keep it out of her face and her blue eyes. Watery blue, she thinks. Why couldn’t they be piercing blue or electric blue?

      The pony tail also keeps her hair away from the miniature steam engine that is chuffing and clicking away under the large oak tree

      In college she’d worn her hair short – very short. But in the five years since, she’d tried for a softer look. She wonders why she bothered.

      She loves steam engines and she loves Waters Farm. The combination is heavenly and she’s lucked out with the placement of her table – many of the other enthusiasts are out in the full sun.

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