MSI Press Blog

  Precerpt (excerpt prior to publication from the forthcoming memoir,  In with the East: A Mary Poppins Kind of Life  by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver Animals of Acton: Sanctuary, Scavengers, and Sentiment Acton had its share of animals—some wild, some domesticated, all woven into the rhythm of our lives. The deer were the most majestic, but in a humbler way than the moose. During hunting season, they’d gather in our swale, grand creatures with 8-point racks among them. Somehow, they knew our land was safe. It was posted  No Hunting , and so was my uncle’s. But that didn’t stop the out-of-town fools from skulking in the woods and firing into the fields. One year, one of them shot my uncle’s prize Guernsey cow—brown, unmistakably not a deer. My uncle caught the man trying to make off with the carcass, certain that he had just bagged a deer, and grabbed him by the ear. And then the captive had to listen to a tongue-lashing! We paid a price for being a deer sanctuary. The deer...

  excerpt from  Learning to Feel  (Kris Girrell) --  3 We See the World as WE Are Let me start this with a little true story: When I was a child, my family lived in Germany on a military base. We kids played outside on the stoop and sidewalks since there were not any playgrounds to speak of. On one particular day I was on the landing outside the entrance playing with a truck or some cool toy. The others were scattered around the sidewalk three or four steps down from the landing. When asked if I would share my toy with the others, I refused and was very possessive about it. This set the other children off and they started teasing and mocking me for being “stingy.” The more they taunted me the angrier I got until I hit some sort of breaking point. I was as enraged as a four-year-old boy could be. Standing up, I noticed one of the bricks—a half brick, actually—along the side of the steps that was loose. In my anger, I picked it up and threw it at the other kids and it ...

  Precerpt (excerpt prior to publication from the forthcoming memoir,  In with the East: A Mary Poppins Kind of Life  by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver Acton: The Biting Season Acton summers weren’t blistering, but they were sticky—humid enough that your shirt clung to your back before breakfast. The air felt close, like it was pressing in, and the flies thrived in it. Black flies and deer flies didn’t just bite—they hunted. Our cows and steer wore them like living blankets, and we, the kids, were next in line. Milking and yoking became tactical maneuvers: one hand on the task, the other swatting at whatever had just landed behind your ear. The flies didn’t discriminate. They flew from cowhide to kid skin, drawn by sweat and movement. We learned to move fast and swat energetically. Still, they found the soft spots—wrists, necks, ankles. By midday, we were welted and itchy, pin-cushioned by persistence. Evenings brought a different ritual. The kitchen ceiling became a fly hostel, sp...