All posts by buzzardsglory


Yea, Murcrow is back!! It’s a Christmas miracle!! Many of you know I live in what I call my Forest. Actually, it’s a Federal Park and the government being what it is a decision was made to release packs of coyotes into the park to reduce the deer population. Personally I think a good ole fashion round up to reduce the herd would have worked better but hey no one ask me.

The result was my clutch of hens including my grand Rooster Buckie all murdered at the hands of the nasty coyotes. A time of sorrow filled the air out here among the whispering pines, for weeks all manner of domestic and free forest critters began to disappear. Fear loomed heavy among my Forest friends and the whispering pines wept silent in the telling of the tales of the goings on as I walked among them unafraid. I carry a very big stick and fear none especially the nasty coyote’s. My faithful dog Braveheart always at my side we talked and walked it all out and decided fear was the enemy not the coyote.

When I saw Murcrow just after dawn this morning a life lesson of sorts took shape in my mind. None not one walks alone as God is watching, protecting and waiting for just the perfect timing to renew and restore us all. So, Murcrow a jet black hen with emerald green embedded feathers a beautiful example of strength of survival learned from life lessons as she lives under the protection of our Creator again greeted me.

Miracles are as stars in the night sky they shine so bright even on a cloudy night. Look up toward the Heavens in Thanksgiving catch one and make it your own.

If you want me I’ll be in the corn crib today cuz Murcrows back and I want to make her welcome!!

#Ditty for your Saturday

May a bit of levity brighten your day.

As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man.


He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in the Nova Scotia back country.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical man, I didn’t stop for directions.

I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch. I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late.

I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to play.

The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this homeless man.

And as I played “Amazing Grace”, the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished, I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head was hung low, my heart was full.

As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, “I never seen anything like that before, and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”

Apparently, I’m still lost….it’s a man thing.

When you have stopped laughing be sure to forward this on to others who would enjoy a good story.

Crapper News!!

I know, I know this blog is usually about my little walks through the whispering pines. It’s winter, well okay almost winter. A Virginia winter means a real winter in the mountains and a gloomy wet matted mess of cloudy days followed by misty rain, sleet, black ice interstate pile ups and intermittent 75-80 degree sunny teasers the closer you get to the coastline.

So many things have changed for me since February 15th 2014. The release of the novel ‘Buzzard’s Glory’ took me by surprise. Happy surprise mind you but nonetheless surprise. It’s being read in I lost count after twenty states and a new crew took over marketing so I could write more books.

I have written four more novels now but getting the sequel to ‘Buzzard’s Glory’ ready for release has become a ‘Crapper’ of the highest order. It’s like a love affair with insanity. It needs more, it needs less and the title has been changed twice. Should I release it as a series of three books? Beats the crap out of me, I can’t decide? The people that know about these things are telling me first things first and the sequel comes first. Hold off on ‘George’ they say after all you’re going to kill him off anyway and let his tiny hinny beauty fix the mess he left her.

I could miss out getting my box of chocolate covered cherries for Valentine’s Day from my husband if it’s not ready. Those of you having read ‘Buzzard’s Glory’ know all about Carroll and his wonderful box of chocolate covered cherries in first grade. Gosh, if I had only kissed him back. I admit it was a failing of mine but that’s another book for another time.

I write time period pieces, hardships and survival. The truth of things  coming at the reader in waves as if caught up in the perfect storm with no hope; men have been there, women have been there and everyone loves to hate Della and Walter equally.

In the sequel, Ursula’s on the run. The question is will she land in the Birchshire Suite or in the bastard Brody’s bed. Holy Crap Brody he’s a combination of Della and Walter. It’s a friggn’ nightmare for a mountain girl who looks like a movie star and doesn’t know it.

If the sun ever shines out here in my Forest, I’ll post thoughts from the whispering pines? If not folks it’s ‘Crapper News’ you’ll be a gitin’.

You can always find me at should you be one of those in the need to know about the doings in ‘Buzzard’s Glory’?



What can happen if you mess with a Virginia Girl

Three friends married women from different parts of the country.
The first man married a woman from Alabama. He told her that she
was to do the dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple of days, but
on the third day, he came home to see a clean house the dishes washed and put away.

The second man married a woman from South Dakota. He gave his
wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes and the
cooking. The first day he didn’t see any results, but the next day he
saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the
dishes were done, and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man married a girl from Virginia. He ordered her to keep
the house cleaned, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed, and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn’t see anything, the second day he didn’t see anything but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, and his arm was healed enough that he could fix himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher. He still has some difficulty when he pees.


I’m a Virginia girl just in case you’re wondering!! Have a great day everyone!!



#TOMTOM the turkey

Searching for TomTom, the turkey has created quite a stir out here in my Forest. Everyone has been on a hunting expatiation for weeks now. All talk and no action until a few days ago.

The men folk are on the roam in search of the biggest fattest Tom Turkey they can find for the big Thanksgiving Feast tomorrow. They feel a real pride this time of year returning to their hunter-gatherer status. Actually it’s bragging rights their after but I’m not saying a word and spill the beans on my plans.

While the men folk have been ratchet jawing, I’ve been wandering among the whispering pines carrying a pouch full of bread crumbs. The clutch I found has one huge Tom turkey and six precious ladies at his disposal. TomTom knew all about hunting season for Tom turkey this time of year.

“They nearly got my ass yesterday”, he told me.

“Well TomTom I’ve come with a plan if you’ll be a trustin’ me, I tell him. You see TomTom I’ve got a hen house with a homicidal Rooster named #Bailey. He brutalizes his hens not to mention he ran my Buckie off. The hens hate him. TomTom he’s a big sucker too, you, and I both know these men folk around here can’t tell the difference between a bear and a black angus cow but they do get lucky shooting at anything that moves. Soooooooo I tell you what TomTom you talk it over with your lady friends and if everyone agrees follow the bread crumbs. I’ll let #Bailey free to roam the forest. He loves that you know. While he’s gone you can slip yourself and your ladies into the hen house and I’ll lock the door. How’s that sound TomTom? You think on it while I spread the bread crumbs.”

Around noon here comes TomTom headed for the hen house. Rushing out I ask him, “TomTom where are your ladies?”

“That bastard #Bailey took every one of them deep into the forest. Those so-called ladies are nothing but a bunch of ungrateful little cheaters the lot of em’ and me always on guard offering up my life to protect em’, why I ask you why? Good grief I may as well have gone looking for one of those bad shot turkey hunters.”

I locked the door to the hen house as he continues his litany of the horrors of having to do everything but lay turkey eggs for propagation.

The men folk come home for dinner all dismayed. Chuck suggests they eat, get a good night’s sleep and hit the grocery early Thanksgiving morning. “We can get that deep fryer out I got for Christmas last year and fire it up, drop that frozen baby in there and Ma you won’t have to work so hard basting a turkey this year.”

“Good grief, you’ll set the forest on fire, just leave it to me, I’ve everything under control Chuck”, I tell him. Tomorrow there will be a huge stuffed turkey at the head of the table, PaPa with knife in hand to begin the carving.

TomTom’s won’t be depressed anymore, the forest won’t burn down and the deep fryer will remain in the box in the garage where the thing belongs.

#Speaking Gaelic

I am looking for someone able to speak Gaelic.

I will be giving a talk helping to raise money for our military and would like to end it with a Gaelic Prayer. It is not terrible long and I am hoping one or more of you out there can help me learn it in Gaelic. If so please contact me through my personal email:


The prayer in English goes as follows:


Deep peace of the running waves to you.


Deep peace of the flowing air to you.


Deep peace of the smiling stars to you.


Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.


Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you.


Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.


I’ll need to learn it before December 10th. Thank you so very much!


Arlene Switzer Flynn





#Corn Pudding and other stuff

The weather has turned chilly and the thoughts of Thanksgiving were waffling around in my brain as I began my walk among The Whispering Pines just after dawn this morning. No my brain wasn’t frozen not so as I could tell anyway.

I had corn pudding on my mind so I thought I might share the recipe. It’s a wonder to behold and once you’ve tasted it you will never be the same.

My second novel has been taking up way to much of my time. I’m trying to get it out in February. ‘The Birchshire Suite’. I hate it even though I wrote it. It’s fifty shades of why don’t you tell someone that gives a Crap. I suspect it will sell millions.

I’ve heard from the men folks that ‘Buzzard’s Glory’ is a chick flick based on the free read of the first chapter on my web-site. It’s for sure not even if the first chapter looks like it might be. The old saying don’t buy a book by it’s cover sure applies for ole ‘Buzzard’s Glory’, the novel. There’s more drama, sex, deceit, humor and abuse in it than watching an old bald fellow tear up his ticket at a sure fire win on a filly he placed his last dollar bet on at the track.

If you’re interested you can go to and check it out for your own self if you have the courage.

I’ve got me a granddaughter who found herself a handsome hunk with a famer’s tan on my mind. I’m posting this recipe for her as well as you folks. I’m hoping she will make it for the future in laws to seal the deal.

She’s having Thanksgiving with them this year and I’ll miss her but it’s for a good cause, great grandchildren. I want great grandchildren to rock until they are old enough to walk with me among the whispering pines.


I don’t do old it’s been done before and everyone that knows me can testify to my youthful nature. I love young folks. Old people want to talk about their latest Doctor’s visit and impending surgery. Me I want to watch the glory of a future generation unfold in all it’s splendor.

All righty folks the recipe is below if you’re interested. Until then here is something else to entertain you until you make it for Thanksgiving you can go to it should hold you until the horrors of editing are finished on the titillating novel, ‘The Birchshire Suite’.


Corn Pudding 101 City Slicker Style


1 package of frozen thawed and drained yellow corn, around 17 ounces
1 can of 17 oz. cream style corn
1 cup of sour cream
2 sticks of melted butter
1 box of Jeffy corn mix
2 beaten eggs
1 Tspn. Sugar


In a bowl mix all the ingredients and pour into a 9×12 greased casserole dish
Bake @ 350 degrees F for 40 minutes or until golden brown.