Looking for tickets for Geronimo, Life on the Reservation in Kenab?

Try this link!

“Geronimo: Life on the Reservation” Performance by Rudy Ramos

Rudy Ramos will be performing Geronimo, Life on the Reservation in Kenab, Utah, August 25-26th, 2017 at the Western Legends Roundup. Don’t miss it! The roundup runs from August 24-26th.

There’s a Mouse in the House! goes to Uganda!

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

Amazon- Purchase on Kindle or read on Kindleunlimited

How exciting! My little children’s book is going to Uganda! It’ll most likely be there before it gets on Kindle (It’s in a publisher’s queue at the moment). Look for it on Kindle and iPad…or take a fast trip to Uganda! .99-cents USD. (text by Janelle M. Hooper and Jacob N. Studebaker–illustrations by Sherri Bails)

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

Snake crisis!

Snake crisis!

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

 Although I based my Boogie “character” on a real-life event, I have been surprised at the number of recent snake problems in this country. Too many people have released pet snakes into the wild for many reasons. Sometimes, they couldn’t keep them where they lived. Or they grew too big. Or they became dangerous. Or maybe they got bored with them. Releasing them was easier than killing them.

 I have heard people talk as though it’sFlorida’s problem. Large snakes have thrived there–and multiplied. But I’m not so sure we’re immune from the problem. It’s been said that some of the rattlesnakes that travel to the west side of our mountains in bales of hay are thriving–and inbreeding with our harmless snakes. I’ve heard of other creatures that are adapting to climates that were previously thought unsuitable. For instance, sharks are moving further north each year in search of food. 

 Why are we so sure that these tropical snakes, released into a colder climate, will perish? Why are we not at least checking our ponds to look for signs of these creatures on our west coast? A few years back, our state did a survey of a local pond inWashingtonState and found many species of turtles that had been released by their previous owners. Some of the turtles had inbred, creating whole new species. Although the state was looking for turtles, they also found varities of alligators! What if people are also releasing their unwanted pet snakes into our many ponds? What if they’re adapting to our colder climate? A lot of these snakes can become quite large. And dangerous.

I would like to see it become illegal to sell or have dangerous snakes in this country. Let’s not wait until we have a problem like Florida’s.

 www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

 

Love on the Zoo’s Third Floor…

Here’s a short excerpt from my newest romance…This Kindle book is on sale for $1.99 until the end of July… www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

Boogie, Boots, and Cherry Pie

Love on the Zoo’s Third Floor

Janelle Meraz Hooper

 Lily half-heartedly flipped through the clothes hanging in her closet. Blue, blue,      blue—yellow. White. Pink. Pink. Pink. Black. Lots of black. There wasn’t a green top in the whole closet, and she knew it, but she kept looking anyway. After being caught the year before without something green to wear, she’d promised herself that she would shop ahead before March rolled around again but here she was, the night before the company’s St. Patrick’s Day party, and she had nothing to wear.

 Was there a law against department stores putting a green sequined top on sale?  Of course, the full-price racks had plenty of green tops, but what woman would pay forty or fifty bucks for a green sequined top if she didn’t live in Dublin? Or unless she was trying to catch a hunky, Irish geek who owned half of Microsoft. Lily had a nagging hunch if any rich, single Irish hunks were hanging out at that playpen for techie-geniuses, they’d already been spoken for by women who had a lot more going for them than she did. She was okay with that. She could happily settle for just hunky. Right now, the hunkier the better.

A Seattle romance with a Jamaican twist!

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

How about a baseball story?

This commentary has appeared many places but I thought you might enjoy it since it’s baseball season…

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com 

 “Anybody want to play?”

a story from Free Pecan Pie and Other Chick Stories

Janelle Meraz Hooper

Every spring the hamburger joints are filled with ball players all dressed up in their new baseball outfits, their pristine new balls, mitts, and hats scattered on the tables among the milk shakes and fries. It always makes me wonder: they have the equipment, but do they have a passion for the game? Is that all baseball is about—pricey equipment?

Times are getting tough, and excess has been on the minds of many Americans lately. I think that the sport of baseball is a good example. Fancy stadiums. Fancy uniforms. And those players’ contracts…well, let’s not even go there.

Maybe the fancy trappings aren’t necessary. Once, I saw a perfect pick-up baseball game that was low in budget but high in passion. It was back in the sixties, and my husband and I were taking a break from college to visit his favorite aunt and uncle in a little town in Idaho called Clark Fork (population: 125). Uncle Archie was a real mountain man who spent his days hunting, fishing, and trapping. His nights were spent drinking, gambling, and barroom brawling. Aunt Frances raised purebred Manx cats that she shipped all over the world. Her cupboard was full of home-canned delicacies—for the cats. Shelf after shelf was filled with canned kamloop, venison, and elk. Enough for a year. For sixteen cats.

That Saturday afternoon, we were kicking back with Aunt Frances while she watched wrestling when her small porch was filled with the sound of scuffling feet. The screen door creaked. A little hand knocked. When my husband opened the door, a chorus of excited voices of assorted ages all gushed out at the same time. “We’re getting up a game, does anyone here want to play?” Of course we did.

When they left, I said, “We forgot to ask them where we’re playing.”

 My husband answered, “There’s only one ballfield in town, honey.”

Going through Uncle Archie’s closets we were able to come up with a mitt and a bat that may have been used most recently for clubbing kamloop before it was dragged onto a boat. Off we went to the ballfield that turned out to be a neglected lot with a rusty chicken wire backstop behind home plate and a cedar railing about eighteen inches high on the street side. The other sides were rimmed in tall, fragrant pines.

My husband pointed to the railing and told me I could sit in the bleachers. Everyone showed up about the same time. This was a logging town, and both teams were wearing plaid flannel shirts and logging boots with their heavy work jeans. Every age group was represented. We only had one ball that I think someone had taken away from their dog, and it was so dirty it kept getting lost in the grass and mud.

The air hung heavy with mist but it didn’t dampen our enthusiasm. We were overcome with joy at the sight of the ball crossing the cedar shingle we were using for home plate. Everyone got a turn at bat, with the older players taking time to encourage the younger ones.

We stayed there playing until we couldn’t see the ball anymore and it was pure joy. I don’t remember who won. What I do remember is the passion we had for the game. Not the fancy uniforms, not the expensive mitts. There were none. It was the game we were there for, and only the game.

So, it’s spring again, and here comes another carload of kids dressed in their shiny new gear. Structured, organized games that are listed on a computerized schedule kept on their mothers’ refrigerator doors. It’s okay. But I keep longing to open my front door and hear a raggy group of loggers asking, “We’re getting up a game—does anybody here want to play?” Of course we do!

 www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

 *Note: The illustration is not in the book.