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— Jan Goldyn —

Fresh January

New year and a new start,

breathe in the dawn

to enkindle the heart.

Steps in the moment

form a passageway

into the dreams

you bring forth today

— January Update —

As I write, January has already passed. But its memories are still close by.

Christmas at our house when I was young always seemed to stay until at least halfway through January!

The fact that my grandmothers and I shared mid-January birthdays accounted for some of the extended festivities. We knew the tree would stay up at least long enough to help us celebrate!

Our family also honored the Epiphany on January 6. It’s a long-held tradition, remembering the gifts brought to the Christ child by the Three Kings. — gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  

When our grandma visited on this feast day, she’d throw candies and nuts on the floor, with a Polish holiday greeting, “Wesolych Swiat!”

.We kids would scramble for the treats!

Actually, the traditional Church calendar extends the Christmas season to early February when the “presentation in the temple” is celebrated.

We also left space to celebrate Russian Orthodox Christmas on January 7 due to my mother’s family’s closeness to that tradition.

There was a very important New Year’s Day tradition. Dad would place a small pine branch in the bathroom sink, filled with cold water. Then he added a silver dollar.

We all knew it was paramount that we splash the frigid water on our faces. This would secure for us prosperity, health and wealth in the coming year!

This tradition comes from Eastern European (specifically Polish) folklore. Dad passed it down through his Polish parents, my Grandma and Grandpap Goldyn.

The silver symbolizes wealth, while cold water and pine are often associated with cleansing or purification.

As years go by, I try to keep these traditions from my childhood alive, sharing them with my own kids. There is something comforting about the rooted feeling they give me and closeness to my loved ones, those here and those in the Heavenly realm ♥

Prequel, Julia

My vision for the unveiling of “Julia” had been Spring 2025. I’m now focusing on Summer 2026. My life has just become unexpectedly busy! But I promise to do my best and will update you well in advance!

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I am so excited to be working on my Prequel — Julia. You’ve all given me such super feedback on Coal Town Girls! Those of you who have grown up locally have been sharing your excitement at seeing the landmarks of your youth (or your present!) showcased within its pages.

Now, with Julia, I’m taking a journey further back in time to the people, places, struggles, triumphs and dreams of those who came before Joan and Mary. I can’t wait for you to join me.

-Excerpt from Julia -

“So, what is it? You don’t like this fellow for your sister?” The large man drinking his Stolichnaya peered at Walter who was sitting across the table drinking espresso from a small cup.

“No, No,” Walter laughed. “He is far from acceptable. Irish rabble. Do you have a sister Victor?”

“I had a sister once. She died as baby in old country.”

“So you know my sentiments. You could not give a sister to just anyone.”

“What has this man done?”

“I told you, he is rabble.”

“What would you like from me, Walter?”

“You fought steadfastly beside my father, in the war, did you not?

“We were brothers, you know this. It is unfortunate that your father has become old before his time. I do not see him often enough. Why do you ask me this?”

“Yes, brothers. So I wish you to aid us, as one of our family, in ridding ourselves of a nuisance.”

Jan’s Reading Nook

Throughout history, our ancestors gathered around fires telling and soaking in the magic that is “story.” This primal need continues and has not left us! I love to share thoughts on nuggets of literature I’ve been enjoying and exploring. For me, a main focus has been historical fiction, literary fiction, family sagas. Although all genres have their own jewels.

The Viking Book of Poetry

of the English-Speaking World

— Edited by Richard Aldington —

This month, I’m sharing, more so than “reviewing” ☺

I love my thrift store copy of classic poetry. It includes a wide range of older-type styles, including classic sonnets, satire, Elizabethan verse, and ballads. Many of the works have such love-of-nature themes. They really hit my heart, Mother Earth being a favorite place of solace for me.

Consider, for example, “To A.D.” Although I’m not certain of the exact circumstances, some say it was a work written by William Ernest Henley for his young daughter who passed at the age of five. However, it may have been part of a larger work.

Nonetheless, the simple joyful sound of the blackbird becomes life renewing on an early spring day and when shared with a friend or lover, it’s all of a magic potion.

To A.D.

— William Ernest Henley —

The nightingale has a lyre of gold,

the lark’s is a clarion call.

And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,

but I love him best of all.

For his song is all of the joy of life

and we,in the mad, spring weather,

we two have listened till he sang

our hearts and lips together

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Loveliest of Trees….

— Alfred Edward Housman —

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

is hung with bloom along with bough,

and stands about the woodland ride

wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,

twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

it only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom

fifty springs are little room,

about the woodlands i will go

to see the cherry hung with snow.

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In All that’s Past, woods and streams are spoken of as wise beings, personified by the author who evokes an ancient mysterious magic in our souls.

All that’s Past

— Walter de la Mare —

Very old are the woods,

and the buds that break

out of the brier’s boughs

when March winds wake,

so old with their beauty are —

oh, no man knows

through what wild centuries

roves back the rose.

Very old are the rooks

and the rills that rise

where snow sleeps cold beneath

the azure skies

sing such a history

of come and gone

their every drop is as wise

as Solomon.

Very old are we men

our dreams are tales

told in dim Eden

by Eve’s nightingales

we wake and whisper awhile

but, the day gone by,

silence and sleep like fields

of amaranth lie.

**************************************************************

Coal Town Girls

Coal Town girls was an idea that bubbled up over the years and finally found its way to paper. My mother, Joan, and her best friend, Mary, were often found on our back porch, telling stories of their youth -- the town, the river, the people, the adventures, the sadness's, the joys. 

Each month I’ll try to highlight a tidbit from Coal Town Girls!

—-Excerpt from Coal Town Girls—-

“Once in the refuge of home, Joan and Mary sat silently on Mary’s porch swing – preferring the chirping of birds and the swishing of the creek to their own voices.

But as night approached and far away lightning zipped through the heavy sky, the friends followed their familiar routine of heading to the Dairy Dell. A distant rumbling vibrated the little valley which was now graced with the tiniest of breezes.

The water dogs entered the clapboard building and sipped at their nickel Cokes, Joan’s auburn pony tail highlighting the baby blue of her cousin’s hand-me-down camp shirt.

Mary, perched atop her curled left knee, kicked her saddle-shoed right foot to the beat of Duke Ellington on the jukebox.”