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Kara Jorgensen
Tag Archives: gaslamp fantasy
The Wolf Witch is Available for Pre-order!
*taps microphone* I finally finished The Wolf Witch. *collapses*
If you've been following me for some time, you know that 2018 wasn't my year. I hit a mental low due to things being frustratingly beyond my control, and this poor book suffered for it. I rewrote it in its entirety (all 53,000 words of it) and then added another 37,000 words to finally finish it off. It's done. Well, apart from final edits.
I'm super proud of what The Wolf Witch has become and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I have. Here is the blurb:
Since returning to England from abroad, Emmeline Jardine has managed to get a place of her own, maintain a tenuous truce with her guardians, and celebrate her new found freedom by attending as many parties as she can manage. That is until a man claiming to be her father shows up.
Her father has a problem. Her half-brother, Wesley, has disappeared while investigating possible werewolf sightings, and he needs Emmeline's help finding him. Emmeline reluctantly agrees only to find there are others interested in Wesley's plight. When she receives a mysterious invitation to a country estate deep in the woods, Emmeline is shocked to find a familiar face there.
Nadir Talbot, Decadent, writer, and all around nuisance, infuriates her to no end, but Emmeline soon finds he is the only she can turn to as they are thrust into a world of werewolves, monsters, and secrets from her family's past that threaten to bring the empire to its knees.
In the next few weeks, I'm going to be posting some snippets from the story along with other extras. The Wolf Witch is due out July 12th. You can pre-order the ebook on Amazon, and the paperback will be available as it gets closer to the release date.
Filed under The Wolf Witch, Writing
Tagged as book release, gaslamp, gaslamp fantasy, occult, paranormal fantasy, paranormal romance, preorder, release, rougarou, supernatural, The Wolf Witch, victorian, werewolves
The Wolf Witch– a Snippet
Hi, peeps! I've been hard at work rewriting the entirety of The Wolf Witch. I've been posting bits and behind the scenes goodies to my Patreon lately, but I wanted to share with you a preview of chapter 1. I'm hoping to have The Wolf Witch out by the fall, so let me know what you think of the first half of chapter 1.
The fact that three seemingly connected murders had gone unreported in a city like London was the first clue that something was amiss. The second was that they appeared to have been caused by a wolf, and to Wesley Bisclavret's knowledge, he was the only werewolf in all of Britain. It didn't take a Pinkerton to realize that someone—probably someone important—had something to hide.
Snuffling along the cobbles, the wolf lifted his head at the sound of a steamer chugging down the lane. His ears flattened in annoyance as he pushed into the hedges again. This is why he never took city assignments. Too many cabs, too many people, too many confusing smells and noises. The stench of that much garbage on top of thousands of bodies made it nearly impossible to track anyone and the racket of banging and thrumming from streets over gave him a headache. He should have told Les Meutes and the Smithsonian to shove their assignments, but he needed to prove himself if he wanted to make it on his own. The moment the cab passed, Wesley slunk out and shook the grime from his back. At least England didn't have so many horses. The damn things seemed to know a werewolf from a dog and made a god awful racket even if they only sensed them nearby. Most of his work took him to the West or up the Mississippi. At least there, he could blend into the shadows even if wolves had long since abandoned those grounds for fear of running into humans. In Louisiana, he had grown up stalking bandits with his father and the other rougarou, moving silently through the trees on silent paws as one. Wolves lived in those parts, bobcats too, but here… Here, there was nothing but the occasional scroungy stray dog and rock as far as the eye could see. Even their parks were barely more than manicured lawns.
When the streets fell silent, Wesley padded down the street and sniffed the air. Cologne. Expensive cologne and fancy food. French, if he wasn't mistaken. His mouth watered at the heady perfume of beef hanging in the air, but with a shake of his head, he continued on, following the smell lurking beneath it. His tail flicked as his lips curled into a semblance of a smile. He had him now. Shifting his eyes between the pavement and the road ahead, Wesley followed the smell through the city, ducking into parks or behind iron fences and trees like some feral creature whenever a human shape cut through the nighttime fog. Padding across the road to a row of neat red brick houses with fronts choked ivy and fences sharp as iron pikes, he could taste the slick of paint on his tongue and the stench of flowers that had no business being concentrated into perfume. Dandies, he huffed, curling his lip and sneezing out the irritating odor.
Wesley darted past a house alight with the clamor of a party in full swing, hoping no one spotted him through the window as he picked up the scent in the next shadow. Trailing down the alley between the two houses, Wesley lifted his head. The other wolf was here or had been recently. He was certain of it. Lifting his leg on the corner of the house, he pondered his next move. Even in his human form, he could smell his way back to the house and confront the man. His client hadn't even demanded he hand the thief over to Scotland Yard; all he wanted was the stolen artifact. At least that would make the job easier. Hell, he could steal the thing and catch the next transatlantic dirigible to New York before dawn. Squeezing past the garbage littering the back alley, Wesley froze. His mouth watered at the scent, and he instinctively licked his teeth as if he could taste it.
The wolf stirred within. Blood, and where there's blood, there's flesh.
Shit, Wesley thought as he pushed past the mottled brown and black wolf.
Tagged as books, Emmeline, gaslamp fantasy, imd, ingenious mechanical devices, magic, Nadir, preview, sneak peek, snippet, steampunk, The Wolf Witch, writing
Selkie Cove: Chapter Five
With Selkie Cove coming out July 25th, I've decided to post a chapter a week until it comes out. My apologies for not posting another chapter earlier in the week, but it was my birthday and I was spending it at my favorite place on earth, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you haven't pre-ordered Selkie Cove, you can here.
Just as a heads-up, if you're a paperback fan, they will be out by the end of the month, but they will not be available on the 25th (due to my own incompetence). I will let everyone know when they are ready to order.
Catch up on:
When Immanuel surfaced from the creature's corpse, the blackbirds and robins outside the alley window had begun their morning trills despite the brumous day. Squirming on the narrow stool, Immanuel cracked his back and neck as he leaned back to examine the creature, which now lay in pieces. She was real. At lunch the day before, he never would have thought it possible. Even after seeing her final moments, he was hesitant to believe it hadn't been a hallucination, but after working on the dissection all night and carefully documenting the anatomy of her organs, he knew he had found a human-pinniped hybrid. If only he had a microscope and supplies at home, then he could prepare slides and study the creature's microanatomy. He had only studied human tissue under a microscope, but if he could get his hands on some seal samples, then he could—
"There you are!" Adam called as he threw open the workroom door but immediately brought his hand to his eyes. "Dear Lord, it's bright in here."
A weary smile spread across Immanuel's features as he watched his companion grimace and squint. Serves him right, he thought, eyeing him warily for any sign of drink. Beneath Adam's blue silk robe, he still wore his shirt from the previous night, but now, it had been buttoned to his collar. His hair had been brushed down, and without pomade to keep it in place, it stood out in floppy waves around his bloodshot eyes. As Adam took a step forward, he yelped a curse as Percy darted in, nearly knocking him over as he flew past. At the edge of the worktable, the cat wiggled his hips and flipped his tail. Adam reached for him as the cat dove for the liver sitting in the nearest metal tray.
"No! Don't you dare!" Immanuel cried as he swatted at the skeleton cat.
The cat's eyes locked on the liver as he took a slow step back. His tail wiggled and snapped, but when he pounced, Immanuel caught him, the scalpel clattering to the floor. Grimacing at the cat's claws sinking into his wrists, Immanuel shoved him into Adam's waiting arms.
"Take him, please. I'm not finished yet."
"Fine, fine. Just stop yelling. My head is killing me," Adam grumbled as he held Percy at arm's length. "Ugh, he smells like a corpse."
"I'll bathe him later. Just put him in the kitchen."
Tossing the cat into the other room, Adam shut the door and stood at Immanuel's shoulder as he settled back into his work. Adam's eyes flitted over organs he vaguely recognized before landing on the nearly empty cadaver. He had hoped that what he had seen the day before had been a nightmare from far too much gin, but even disarticulated, he recognized its mermaid-like form. While its hands still reached for something unseen, Immanuel had cut along its forehead and peeled the skin back to reveal a nearly empty human skull, its sightless eyes hidden beneath the flap. Adam shuddered at the thought that this nightmarish being lived inside of him, and one day, it would live on without him. Averting his gaze, he meandered around the room, looking through Hadley's remaining tools and bobbles before turning to the gleaming wall of windows.
When his eyes started to burn and his head pulsed in time with his heart, he sat at the work table and began picking through the pages littering the table. Immanuel's notes ranged from drawings as detailed as Da Vinci's notebooks to page upon page of observations written in tight lines of German and English. Pushing through his hazy mind, Adam calculated the time he thought he fell asleep to when he came downstairs and divided it by the speed of dissection with pauses for reflection and study.
"Have you been at this all night?"
Immanuel continued working with his head down.
Adam frowned. "Why didn't you go to bed? You have to go to work soon, don't you?"
"I told Sir William I would be working from home today," Immanuel replied, his accent formal and clipped. "He agreed, so long as I have a report on the deceased by this afternoon. If you don't mind, I must get back to work."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Adam tried to remember what had happened the night before, but it only came in smatterings and blurs. He remembered the creature, he couldn't forget that even if he wanted to, but what had happened to make Immanuel cross with him? It wasn't like him to be so curt. He had awoken with the taste of stale gin on his lips, a splitting headache, and the only body in his bed an undead cat nestled on Immanuel's pillow. As he stared at Immanuel's notes, a pit formed in his stomach at a vision of Immanuel's face breaking with hurt. Adam tried to remember what exactly he said, yet all he could see was Immanuel. What had he done?
"I made an ass of myself last night, didn't I?"
Adam drew in a slow breath and winced as he scratched his wrist. Blood coated his nails, but he tucked his injured arm out of sight before Immanuel could notice. "I don't remember what I did or said, but I am sorry I took it out on you, Immanuel. You must believe me. I would never try to wound you."
Immanuel paused, his pencil hovering above a sketch of the creature's lungs. "I know, but you did."
Putting his work aside, he swiveled to face Adam. Their gazes locked, and the silent regrets snapped between them like a tether. In that moment, Immanuel wanted nothing more than to take Adam into his arms and kiss him until they both forgot the previous day's trials, but he couldn't do it. There had been a moment of alcohol-induced abandon when Immanuel felt the threat of impending violence. He swore Adam might hit him, and he couldn't live with that fear. He refused to.
"Promise you will never do that to me again," Immanuel said, keeping his damaged eye locked on Adam's face even as it clouded. "I have to be able to trust you, Adam. I have been able to count on you thus far, but I can't live with uncertainty when it comes to you. If you're going to drink like that…" He shook his head. "I'm not trying to be dramatic. I just can't do it after all that's happened."
Even if it means losing you. The words hung in his throat, but Adam knew they were there. He lowered his eyes to the floor and fingered the loosened scab on his wrist.
"I don't know what to say, except that I will try not to do it again. I didn't think it would upset you so. I thought it would take the edge off. It's what I've always done." He closed his eyes as Immanuel stroked his cheek. A little voice told him to tear his face away. He didn't deserve it. "Anyway, after I get cleaned up, I'm planning to visit Hadley. I don't want a position out of pity or loyalty, but the earl has connections and it would be foolish not to use them."
Immanuel nodded, but as he turned back to his work, Adam put his hand on his arm and carefully turned him until they were face-to-face again.
"Immanuel, please trust me. I'm going to try to make things right. I promise I'm not going to let us sink."
Drawing closer, Adam gently pressed his lips to Immanuel's, his fingers sweeping his lover's hair from his brow. Adam pulled him in deeper with the touch of his tongue upon his lips and a hand on his back. Entering his mouth, Immanuel could taste the tang of last night's gin, and he wondered if Adam noticed the salt of the sea clinging to his teeth, a remnant of the dead woman's final moments. Adam leaned between Immanuel's legs, brushing his thighs as they parted. Heat sparked in Immanuel's core as he rose upon feeling his lover's hands squeeze his shoulders and slip along his side in time with their lips. He wanted to hate him, he wanted to be angry, but it seemed impossible to sustain.
"Am I forgiven?" Adam asked between kisses.
Adam's arms closed around him, hugging him closer until their bodies were flush. Stumbling back, Immanuel braced himself against the workbench as Adam's lips skimmed the delicate flesh of his neck, sending a shudder through his form. As his palm brushed a metal dissecting tray, Immanuel stepped away and carefully guided Adam back toward the empty wall where crates of finished automatons had once sat. His lover's hands kneaded Immanuel's sides and back, cupping his buttock as his back collided with the wall. Immanuel lightly ran his tongue along Adam's lip, eliciting a rough laugh from his companion as he tugged Immanuel's shirt from his trousers. Before he could reach for his belt, Immanuel gripped Adam's arm and slowly pulled it away. He stared at him through hooded eyes, his breath coming in heavy puffs as he steadied himself.
"We can't," Immanuel said, his voice hoarse with desire. "After, we will, but I need to finish this first."
Disappointment flashed across Adam's features, disappearing as quickly as it materialized beneath a concessionary nod.
"And I stink like a fishmonger. Please, Adam, I promise we can, but later." Immanuel kissed him again until the tension released from Adam's arms. "Later."
Clearing his throat, Adam looked around the workroom as if seeing it for the first time. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then. I'm going to take the train to Greenwich. Hopefully I can catch Hadley before she goes out for the day. Would you like to come? I could wait for you to clean up."
"I would love to, but…," he gestured to the glistening organs littering the table. "Send Hadley and Lord Dorset my love."
Wiping his lips and straightening his clothing, Adam slipped out of the room. As the door shut behind him, a knot twisted in Immanuel's stomach. Even if Adam had kept his head out of his cups long enough to think straight, there was something Immanuel still had to do. Reaching into a cabinet, he hefted a typewriter onto the only clean corner left on the workbench, a gift from Adam's cousin and her husband upon his graduation. Carefully arranging his notes, he pecked out a report that would hopefully satisfy Sir William Henry Flower. He stared down at the page, rereading his half-truths and outright lies until he steeled himself against the knot in his stomach. If this plan was to work, he would need enough room to weave his story. There was only one missing component.
Reloading the typewriter with paper, Immanuel pulled his notes closer and hammered them out word-for-word. Judith Elliott asked for a comprehensive report, and he wasn't going to fail his first mission as one of Her Majesty's Interceptors.
Standing outside Miss Elliott's door, Immanuel's hand hovered, poised to knock. For a long moment, he merely stood in the hall, trying desperately to remember if he had brought everything he might need. During the entire journey to the Inner Temple Gardens, Immanuel had rehearsed all that he wanted to say, but the moment he reached the main hall with its sundial floor and practioners rushing between destinations like a swarm, his mind seized. What was he doing here?
After being attacked by Lord Rose in its courtyard and returning after the disastrous affair involving Lord Hale, he told himself that he never wanted to step foot there again, yet every few weeks he managed to slip in during his lunch break to exchange books with Judith Elliott. As he wove between Interceptors and made his way up the iron steps, he felt the deep resonance of magic reverberate through his bones like the hum of a hundred tuning forks. There was a whole building of people who in some way were just like him. He bit his lip to suppress a smile at the thought. Even after working at the museum for months, he still felt the distance of being an outsider. He was younger, quieter, less charismatic, less sure of his convictions, less accomplished, and certainly less English than any of the other curators. From what he had seen of the Interceptor Headquarters, there were plenty of young people and even those with darker complexions and accents that betrayed their origins. When he left Germany, a little part of him thought it would be a grand adventure. Maybe he needed to listen to that voice more. Immanuel tugged at his collar and straightened the strap of his leather satchel before knocking.
"Come in, Mr. Winter."
Immanuel froze with a frown. Pushing open the door, he found Judith with her head bowed and her eyes on the paper in front of her. "How did you know it was me?"
"I could see you through the glass. Besides, no one who works here waits or even knocks. If you don't barge right in, you aren't an Interceptor."
Barely raising her gaze, she motioned to the seat in front of her. Immanuel sank into the chair, clutching his bag as his eyes ran over the whitewashed cabinets lining the walls. Judith Elliott always seemed at odds with her surroundings. Her dark blonde hair had been expertly pinned and tightly bound in an elaborate chignon that hovered above the mandarin collar of her military-style jacket. Lining the perimeter of her office were display cases and art nouveau wallpaper that led the eye from shelf to shelf. Sunlight from the tall window behind her desk glinted off the crystals and artifacts locked within the cases. He wished he could borrow her powers just for a moment to understand how such a martial woman could own such a feminine space.
Finally surfacing from her work, Judith gave him a slight smile. "So how may I help you, Mr. Winter? Come to trade books?"
"No, I— I finished the report you wanted." Immanuel reached into his bag and pulled out his sketch pad along with the packet of typed pages. "I tried to be very thorough, as you asked."
"I can see that."
Taking the papers from his outstretched hand, Judith flipped through them. Immanuel watched, holding his breath as her eyes skimmed over his notes before traveling to the black sketchpad between them. She returned back to the page, but every so often her gaze flickered from the rickety type to Immanuel's face. After a moment, she cleared her throat and set the papers aside.
Folding her hands on the desk, she said, "This is all rather technical for me. Tell me, what did you find regarding our dead selkie?"
"Selkie?"
"My apologies, I meant to tell you, but I didn't want to influence your findings. Selkie is the common name for what she was. Sometimes the Scottish call them maighdeann-mhara. I did some research on our friend after she arrived. According to several legends, selkies are creatures with the ability to take on two forms: one human and the other seal. I'm sure you've heard of sirens or mermaids in fairytales. Much like them, selkies are often described as beautiful women who lure men to their deaths or fall in love with humans and shun their true, animal form. Some folklore talks about how their magic resides in their pelts, which allow them to slip between forms or, like werewolves, they may be merely shapeshifters. It's still unknown."
"Did— did you say werewolves? Are they real, too?"
"Don't fret about them, Mr. Winter. They are of little consequence at the moment." Leaning forward, she tented her fingers and focused on Immanuel's bisected eye, her mind's probing tentacle nudging at Immanuel's thoughts. "So how did the selkie die?"
"She was murdered." Immanuel fought his mind as it threatened to travel back to that awful moment under the silty green water. "She saw something. I'm not certain what it was, a sunken ship or a foundation, but as she approached it, she was attacked by someone."
"Was it another selkie?"
"No, I'm certain it was a human or at least close to it. I didn't feel the same sensation I felt when I saw her for the first time."
"A sensation?"
Immanuel chewed on his lip and watched Judith warily. Something about her made him nervous. Even if he was telling the truth, he still felt as if she might uncover a secret he never intended to hide. It made it harder to think, to find the words he needed to make sense.
"It's like what Nichols described to me when he talked about meeting another person with magical abilities. It's like an itch or a frequency resonating in my bones. I felt it at the museum when Sir William showed her to me."
"Interesting. Tell me more about the murder and the murderer. Thus far, we know the perpetrator isn't a selkie nor a practioner. Even so, we could still have an incident on our hands that could result in an uprising. These situations are touchy. Go on."
Immanuel swallowed hard. He rested his hands on the cool wood of the chair, fighting back the sensation of water burning his throat. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his brow as pain constricted his temples. "She was stabbed, but when she tried to fight back, I think— I think she began to transform into a human. Then, she pulled the blade out. I don't know what kind of blade it was, but it was long and thin, on a handle. It only took a few seconds for her to begin to bleed out. When I examined her, I found a tear in her heart and a matching wound on her chest. I couldn't tell whether she bled out or drowned first due to the preservation fluid." As he released a tremulous breath, he bit down on his lip until the pain blossomed anew. "Her thoughts… They were so human. She was scared in her last moments for the others. Does that mean there are others of her kind?"
"Oh certainly," Judith responded as she flipped through the collection of sketches. Her mouth parted in surprise as she turned to the two page sketch of the selkie's body exposed for examination. "She was mid transformation. Do you realize how rare this is, Winter? To see a selkie transform is a once in a lifetime opportunity. They don't change in front of humans, that's why there's pelt versus shapeshifter confusion. A selkie mid transformation," she repeated, turning the page to study her organs and bone structure, "what luck. The cryptozoologists will be beside themselves at the news."
A pang of guilt rang through Immanuel's gut. "Is this really something to celebrate? She's dead, and it felt like my body was ripping in half when she transformed. Changing like that—"
Immanuel rubbed his arm where pain had radiated from the marrow as every bone broke and regrew in an instant.
"You felt it?" she asked, the joy sapped from her voice.
He released a tremulous breath and squeezed his arm to remind his mind that the visions of her underwater tomb were only a memory. "I feel and see everything they do as if I were in their bodies. It was excruciating. Her transformation, her fear, her death. Please understand that seeing their last moments is rarely a cause for celebration."
"My apologies if I sounded insensitive, Winter. You must understand that we are an agency that studies these creatures, and selkies have been rather uncooperative and elusive despite living right off our shores. Don't think this creature's death was in vain. We can learn a lot from it. We already have. Your dissection findings and her remains will be preserved for future study, and who knows what we may learn from them given weeks or months to do so."
Was she merely a specimen to them? Immanuel licked his lips before slowly meeting Judith's eager gaze. "Miss Elliott, I'm not certain how to phrase this, but do you—and the Interceptors—view selkies as human?"
For a long moment, Judith merely studied him, her brassy curls blazing gold in the afternoon sun. The tendrils of her mind fell away as she said, "Cryptids, creatures of that nature, are not my area of expertise, so I claim no intimate knowledge of selkies. The Interceptors are divided on what constitutes a human being or, for lack of a better word, personhood."
Clearing her throat, Judith rose. "Well, Mr. Winter, if that will be all, we greatly appreciate your time and help in this matter. We will send someone to investigate the case, but if we need any more information, we will contact you. May I borrow your sketches to have photographs taken? It will only take a few moments."
"Yes, but—" As she reached for the doorknob, Immanuel opened his mouth twice, the words refusing to issue from his lips. He had to say something, for the selkie's sake if not his own. Finally he called, "Miss Elliott, I would like to continue investigating this case."
Judith stopped, her back ramrod straight as she looked back at the young man hunched before her desk. Despite her hard hazel gaze, Immanuel never wavered. She motioned for him to wait. Calling down the hall, Cassandra Ashwood appeared at the door. The dark-haired woman in her smart gown looked over Judith's shoulder and spotted Immanuel as she gave her instructions. With a wave and a wide grin to Immanuel, she took the sketchpad from Judith's hands and disappeared down the hall. When Judith turned back to Immanuel, her features were caught between annoyance and amity. Perching on the corner of the desk closest to him, Judith folded her arms across her chest and searched his face.
"So you want to join the Interceptors now. Why the sudden change in heart?"
Clasping his shaking hands in his lap, Immanuel fought to keep his eyes on hers. "I thought I could join unofficially for now. I would like to see if this is what I'm looking for before I agree to anything permanent."
"You cannot possibly think you can join un—"
"It was in the contract. Read it for yourself, and you'll see that I can be called upon to continue an investigation."
"At our discretion."
"At your discretion. You said it yourself that a scientist who is also a practioner isn't easy to come by."
"Yes, but we have everything we need from you. You finished the autopsy."
Immanuel's throat tightened. "I don't know why the Interceptors want me and Adam to join together, except that you said we were more powerful together. It sounds like we would be an asset to the organization, and if they want us as badly as you make it seem they do, I'm hoping they might be willing to work with my terms."
A faint laugh escaped Judith's rouged lips. "Does Mr. Fenice know about your proposition? I seem to recall he was a tad skeptical of magic."
"He has come around, but no, I haven't told him yet."
"That could backfire on you."
"I know." But both of them had so little to lose now.
"I'll tell you what, I will plead your case to my superiors and get a file together for you. They may not agree, but there have been several discussions about how to bring you around," she replied with a knife-sharp smile. "Now, you must know that a practioner doesn't simply join the Interceptors like one joins a club. There are certain protocols that must be followed, especially regarding your and Mr. Fenice's connection."
"But I thought you said the Interceptors were tolerant of…"
"Not an emotional connection, a magical one. We can discuss that later. In the meantime, I would suggest you start figuring out what you will say to Mr. Fenice should they agree to your proposal. While you have your strengths and unique abilities, they want you and Mr. Fenice. You won't get in by yourself."
"I don't mean to be forward, but why? What makes us so special together? Adam…" He paused for a moment, struggling with how to phrase it without coming off as insulting. "Adam isn't a practioner."
"Yes, but every practioner is better with their amplifier. Let me explain. You know that Cassandra is my partner in multiple ways, much like your Mr. Fenice, and she is a normal person. The reason why an Interceptor really needs a non-practioner partner is to ground us. They will see things we miss because we are too wrapped up in using our extranormal abilities. In your case and in mine, your partner is an amplifier, which means, as you have probably guessed, they can elevate your abilities by simply being in your presence. After the ceremony I mentioned before, Adam's connection to you will be even stronger."
"But what makes him an amplifier? Is it merely because we're companions?"
"Well, a bond is necessary, but his alignments are the opposite of yours. You know about batteries and magnets, Mr. Winter?"
"Then, you understand the power of opposite poles. What happens with extranormal abilities is that we tend to align with a specific element or pair of elements. In my case, mind-reading aligns with air while Cassandra's personality is very much grounded in earth. Therefore, we are opposites."
Immanuel fingered the stitching on his satchel thoughtfully. His mind reeled at the thought of the four ancient elements having any sway beside the growing periodic table. He wanted to reject the notion as superstition, but he had seen so much those past few months that sent his mind spinning yet it all proved true.
"What element is my ability? Air as well?"
"You," she paused, "you are a strange breed, Mr. Winter. You have two elements. Which two do you think are most needed for life?"
He blinked, hoping the answer on his lips wouldn't prove him to be a fool. "Water and air."
"Precisely. My theory is you were born with the ability to manipulate water since you mentioned your alchemical heritage, but after suffering through a series of traumas, your body took on air as a way to adapt to your needs. It's your wyrd."
"Your wyrd. Your fate. Your trauma shaped your abilities. It's fascinating really. There are several known cases in ancient writings."
For a long moment, Immanuel merely glared at her through his clotted eye. He had never found his traumas to be fascinating. Did they see him as another exotic specimen like the selkie? Swallowing down the thought, he added, "So that would make Adam fire and earth?"
"Perhaps. Though, he only needs one opposite element to boost your abilities. It would be ironic, wouldn't it?" she said with a smirk. When he didn't respond, she continued, "Adam, the Biblical figure was born of clay, and the name itself has its origin in the color red, which is your Adam's most prominent feature." With a dismissive wave of her hand, she added, "The point is by having Mr. Fenice with you, he will amplify your already unusual abilities, and the Interceptors won't need to find you a partner. Trust me, Mr. Winter, you don't want to have to tell your partner that they have been replaced by your lover. Peregrine can attest to that."
Peregrine. Immanuel snapped open his pocket watch and nearly propelled out of his chair. "My apologies, Miss Elliott, but I have to go. I have an appointment with the director at the museum, and I didn't realize I had been here for so long. If I don't go—"
"Go on, then. We will be in touch about when the handfasting will be held, and I will have your sketchbook delivered to your address."
As Immanuel reached the threshold, he felt the familiar touch of Judith's powers knocking at the back of his skull. "Did I forget something? I really must go."
"No. I was merely wondering what you're planning to tell Sir William about the sideshow spectacle I brought him."
"That it isn't real, but the skin is. There's a seal somewhere missing a pelt, and it's possibly a breed I've never seen," he replied slowly as her hold nudged deeper despite his futile efforts to keep her out. "That way I can keep the body a while more."
"Very smart. You may want to start thinking of excuses for missing work."
Immanuel cocked his head.
"You'll need it if they agree to your terms, won't you?"
Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think, and if you're interested, you can pre-order Selkie Cove on Amazon.
Filed under selkie cove, Writing
Tagged as book, books, chapter five, gaslamp, gaslamp fantasy, gay romance, historical, historical fantasy, ingenious mechanical devices, lgbt, preview, selkie, selkie cove, steampunk, victorian, writing
Selkie Cove: Chapter Four
With Selkie Cove coming out July 25th, I've decided to post a chapter a week until it comes out. That's how excited I am for you to read it. I'm still copy-editing, so please pardon any typos. If you're interested, you can pre-order it here.
Postmortem Examinations
The house stood dark when Immanuel arrived home. The only sounds were his grunts and strained breath as he struggled to push the creature in its glass coffin over the threshold. Kicking the door shut behind him, he straightened and wiped the hair and sweat from his forehead. For a moment, he merely listened for any sign of Adam, but all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing through his ears.
"Adam! Adam, if you're home, I could really use your help for a minute."
When no answer came, Immanuel sighed and pushed the veiled crate onto the carpet runner and shoved it with all of his strength. His ribs and back cried in protest while the box barely budged apart from the slosh of liquid within. It had been surprisingly easy to get Sir William to consent to letting him study it in the seclusion of his home, but it had taken several men and a cart to get it out of his office and into the backseat of a steamer cab. The driver had looked at him like he was a madman and nearly pulled away from the pavement upon seeing his cargo. It was only at the promise of a generous tip that the driver hopped out to help him. Immanuel hoped the specimen was a fake just so he wouldn't have to take it back again; he didn't know how many more times he could afford to pay for an expensive cab ride.
Once they hit the bare wood floor of the hallway, the coffin picked up speed and Immanuel pushed it the rest of the way to the workroom. Even though Hadley had been married months ago, remnants of her life at Baker Street remained in disarticulated automatons and boxes of spare parts stashed in the corner behind her battered work table and stool. Adam had told him to throw it all away, but having remnants of someone else's life in the room made it feel less vacuous when he was still tentatively curating his new life. Immanuel shoved the creature all the way to the cast iron slop sink on the far wall. Leaning against the sink to catch his breath, Immanuel's eyes trailed to the cloaked specimen.
What was he going to tell Sir William? If he told him that the beast was closer to human than he cared to admit, he would be laughed out of the zoology department even with the body as evidence. Pulling the gloves from his pocket, Immanuel carefully removed the box's fragile lid and averted his gaze from the seal-like creature's vacant eyes. At Oxford, he had been forced to debone a walrus and a Caspian seal for the university's museum, and even when he was in better health and shape, the corpses had been impossibly heavy. He couldn't imagine how bad it would be now with his misshapen ribs and miserable constitution. Immanuel reached into the shallow layer of alcohol and was about to slip his arms beneath her neck and tailfin when a shadow fell across the doorway.
The breath caught in Immanuel's throat as he stood. Adam leaned against the door with his shirt open far enough to expose the henna hair dusting the firm planes of his torso. His carefully pomaded coiffure hung askew in a wayward wave that made him look like some debouched Brontëan rogue. Immanuel would have abandoned the creature in an instant if it hadn't been for the glazed look in his lover's eyes and the red flush that hid his faint freckles. It was only then that he spotted the glass in his hand and the clear liquid within.
"Bringing your work home with you again?" Adam asked, his voice uncharacteristically languid as he drew closer. Leaning in with his drink clutched close to his chest, he wrinkled his nose and tapped the box with the end of his boot. "What is that thing?"
"I'm not certain yet."
Before Adam could straighten, Immanuel snatched the glass from his hand and dashed it into the sink. The sweet, acidic tang of gin burned his nose as it splashed up.
"Hey! Why did you do that?"
Immanuel's body shook against his will. "Because you don't need it. How much have you had?"
"What do you care?" Adam cried as he pulled the glass from Immanuel's hand but refused to meet his gaze.
"Adam, just tell me."
"I don't need your permission to have a drink. I'm bloody old enough to make my own decisions. I did so for quite some time before you got here."
As Adam turned to leave, Immanuel whipped off his gloves and cut in front of him. He blocked the door with his body, knowing his thin form would do nothing to stop Adam if he wanted to leave. "Is this what you have been doing all day? Drinking yourself into a stupor? I thought you were going to look for employment."
For a long moment, Adam merely stared at him. His lips nearly disappeared into a tight line as he glowered at Immanuel with an intensity he had never seen. His blue eyes flared with fury, and for an instant, Immanuel feared Adam would shove him or strike him. His hands twitched at his side, but he quickly folded his arms over his chest and rested on his heels, waiting. Immanuel stepped out of the way to let Adam storm past him. The redhead clomped up the stairs with Immanuel a step behind him. When Adam reached their bedroom, Immanuel expected him to slam the door in his face, but instead, he walked over to his desk near the window and grabbed his journal. Flipping through the pages, he turned to the last one and shoved the it at Immanuel's face. The page had begun with a list of law offices, accounting firms, and various banks before becoming jumbled with row upon row of numbers.
"This is what I've been doing all day," Adam spat, shoving the book into Immanuel's hand. "I have been all over town speaking to anyone I thought could help me. I went to a dozen places, and you know what I found? One position. One! And it was for a clerk, a clerk. I have been an accountant for four years. I can't be a clerk again. I can't afford to be a clerk."
"But at least it would be money. We wouldn't have to—"
"No." Grabbing the open bottle of gin from his desk, Adam poured another glass to the brim. "Let me have some semblance of pride, Immanuel. I have worked far too hard to settle for a position I had when I was seventeen, but you wouldn't understand, would you? Uncle Elijah handed you a lovely position at the museum the moment you were out of Oxford. Well, some of us aren't Oxford boys with connections and cushy lives."
Adam's mouth hung open, as his hand came to his lips. Slowly, he raised his gaze to Immanuel's face, which had blanched apart from his reddening eyes.
"Oh, Immanuel, I didn't mean it. I…"
"You have had enough," Immanuel rasped, his voice tight. Without waiting for a response, he took the glass and bottle from Adam's hands and set them down on the dresser. "You're done."
Blinking, Adam stared at his feet and rubbed his wrist. He winced as his nail dug into the leaking wound that had grown to the size of a coat toggle. "It used to help. Before you— before Hadley found out, it worked." He wanted to say something. Words should have been easier, as they had been a moment before, but they never were when he needed them. "Sorry."
Secrets stayed secret when they could be drowned, but much like Immanuel, they always managed to rise and beg for life.
Hunched at the window, Adam seemed so small. Usually, he was larger than life, a handsome face in a suit made to draw the eye to the beauty of the fabric and flesh beneath, but as he stood staring ahead with his blue eyes dark, it dawned on Immanuel just how young they both were. After all they had been through, it felt as if years had passed, and while they had been together less than a year, Adam had been there for the entirety of his new life. Immanuel drew closer, gently stroking Adam's flushed cheeks until the redheaded man slowly met his gaze.
"I love you, but gin won't helping anything," Immanuel whispered.
"It might make me forget. I don't know what else to do to make it easier."
The words died in Adam's throat. He wanted to snatch the gin and down it until the tears looming behind his lids dried. Alcohol fed the fire, and as long as he kept it stoked, it was impossible to feel anything more. That was one of the things he admired about Immanuel, he faced his problems. He wasn't a coward, like him.
"Let me make you some tea, and we can talk about it," Immanuel said with a faint smile as he brushed the hair from Adam's face. "How does that sound?"
Crossing his arms, he nodded, refusing to meet his love's gaze
Gently kissing Adam's forehead, Immanuel snatched the leftover glass and gin. Halfway down the hall, he ducked into the bathroom and dumped the remaining liquor down the drain. In the kitchen, after setting up the kettle on the stove, he rooted through the cabinets until he found every bottle of champagne, sherry, and cognac he could lay his hands on. One by one he emptied them into the sink, listening for the satisfying glug as the last of it swept away. He loved Adam, but he didn't need this. If Adam wanted to drink himself to death, he would have to leave the house to do so. Sinking into one of the kitchen chairs, Immanuel's eyes trailed down the hall to where the light from the workroom spilled into the hall in a golden pool. As the kettle whistled and his mind trailed back to the creature in the tank, Immanuel wished he could hop into the nearest steamer and drive to Greenwich or Folkesbury or even back to his office at the museum. He would go anywhere if he thought he could have some semblance of peace for a while. After everything that had happened with Lady Rose and the late Lord Hale, getting entangled with the Interceptors once again, and Sir William had running him ragged, this was the last thing he needed.
With a pit growing in his gut, he loaded a tray with biscuits and tea and mounted the steps, but when he reached their room, his frustration quickly sank to guilt. Adam sat upright in bed with his head resting against the headboard and his face lax. Leaving the tray on the nightstand, Immanuel perched on the edge of the mattress and watched Adam's chest rise and fall in a sleepy rhythm. He planted a kiss on his gin-tainted lips, but he never stirred. Careful not to disturb him, Immanuel padded across the room and shut off the light. Lingering at the threshold, he waited a moment to see if Adam would call out to him. When he didn't stir, Immanuel snuck downstairs.
Dragging the stool to the workroom sink, Immanuel stared down at the creature—the woman—lying prone before him. Even though the visions had never occurred twice, Immanuel kept his gloves on as he hesitantly reached for the scalpel in his dissection kit. No matter how many times he had participated in autopsies and dissections, it never got easier. People like Dr. Hawthorne or his mentor at Oxford, Dr. Martin, were able to separate the body from the person, but once Immanuel saw their last moments, that became nearly impossible. As he pulled the stool closer with his foot, he heard the gentle tap of cat claws.
Percy bounded in, his bone tail swishing as he surveyed the room until his eyeless sockets fell upon Immanuel. A small smile crossed the scientist's lips as the cat rubbed his nose and back against the hem of his trousers. With a twitch of his hips, he was in Immanuel's lap with his feet resting on the lip of the sink.
"No. Not for you, you greedy bugger," Immanuel said, watching Percy sniff the air. Holding him to his chest, Immanuel scratched Percy's neck and gave him a kiss on the head before putting him outside the workroom door. "Go find Adam, Percy. Go ask him for pets."
Shutting the door, Immanuel returned to the creature. How could he pretend she wasn't a person? Perhaps he shouldn't. "My apologies, he doesn't know better. You aren't food, and you certainly didn't deserve this." Immanuel paused, his chest tightening at the phantom sensation of drowning. "I don't know what you are, but you didn't deserve the agony you suffered."
As expected, the woman never stirred.
"Unfortunately, I need to do worse than he did. Perhaps not worse, but I don't like doing it."
Immanuel carefully parted the fur near the creature's armpit, and after a moment, he found what he was looking for: a gash that went down to the muscle and bone beneath. The wound was an inch long, and as expected, there was no healing or indication that she had been given aid. Immanuel drew back, biting his lip as he stared down at the lethal blow. It had taken so little to end her life. Raising the scalpel, Immanuel murmured an oath under his breath as he did before every dissection and carefully cut from neck to tail. He winced as the reek of alcohol, fish, and the coppery stench of cadaver wafted out with each inch he cut through her thick, blubbery hide. Immanuel glanced over his shoulder at the door and hoped Adam wouldn't come down. There was nothing he wanted to do less than clean up gin-laced vomit. Making a cut across the midline, Immanuel grabbed a handful of pins to hold back the creature's flesh and expose the organs.
The moment he pulled back the skin, the breath hitched in his throat. Shaking his head, he counted her limbs before turning his gaze back to the thoracic cavity where two elbows rested on either side of her ribcage. Immanuel grabbed the scissors from his kit and cut along the creature's arms until he reached her shoulders. It was as if the outer seal-like hide had grown over a set of gracile human arms. Peeling back the skin of her tail, he found a pair of human legs, folded under her as if she had been kneeling in prayer.
Immanuel's heart pounded in his throat as he pulled off his gloves and grabbed his sketchpad from the work table. With an artist's skill and a scientist's eye, Immanuel sketched every detail of her form, carefully labeling each bone and ligament he could identify. Most were clearly human and instantly recognizable, but as he delved into the layers of organs, it was clear the evolution had taken a strange turn back to the sea.
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December was a month of romance reads and a bit of fantasy. Some highlights: Tikka Chance on Me, Call Down the Hawk, and Bringer of Night. #books #bookstagram #tbr #tbrpile #read #reading #decemberreads #tikkachanceonme #jackielau #calldownthehawk #merryandbright #prudence
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Kara Jorgensen · History & Horror With Heart


text:
Nov. 5
Status of Women Committee on Nov. 5th, 2018
Evidence of meeting #120 for Status of Women in the 42nd Parliament, 1st Session. (The original version is on Parliament's site, as are the minutes.) The winning word was housing.
A recording is available from Parliament.
System of Shelters and Transition Houses Serving Women and Children Affected by Violence Against Women and Intimate Partner Violence
Committee Business
MPs speaking
Pam Damoff
Marc Serré
Sheila Malcolmson
Eva Nassif
Also speaking
Cynthia Drebot Executive Director, North End Women's Centre
Jennifer Gagnon Executive Director, South Shore Transition House Association (Harbour House)
Donna Smith Executive Director, Tearmann Society for Abused Women
Samantha Lacourse Coordinator, A Safe Place, Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre
K. Kellie Leitch Simcoe—Grey, CPC
Sonia Sidhu Brampton South, Lib.
Terry Duguid Winnipeg South, Lib.
Caithlin Scarpelli Director, Communications and Fund Development, Atira Women's Resource Society
Geneviève Latour Associate Director, Crossroads for Women inc.
Fiona Cunningham Mental Health Counsellor, Iris Kirby House
Jean Fong Transition House Worker, Vancouver Rape Relief and Women's Shelter
Daisy Kler Transition House Worker, Vancouver Rape Relief and Women's Shelter
Bob Bratina Hamilton East—Stoney Creek, Lib.
The Vice-Chair Liberal Pam Damoff
Good afternoon, everyone.
Welcome to the 120th meeting of the Standing Committee on the Status of Women.
This meeting is in public.
Today we will resume our study on the system of shelters and transition houses servicing women and children affected by violence against women and intimate partner violence.
For this, I am pleased to welcome, via video conference, Cynthia Drebot, executive director at North End Women's Centre.
From the South Shore Transition House Association, Harbour House, we have Jennifer Gagnon, executive director.
From the Tearmann Society for Abused Women, we have Donna Smith, executive director.
From the Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre, we have Samantha Lacourse, coordinator, A Safe Place.
Thank you all for being here.
I will now turn the floor over to you, Ms. Drebot, for your opening statement. You have seven minutes.
As introduced, I'm Cynthia, and I'm from North End Women's Centre, which is located in Winnipeg, right in the inner city in the north end. We provide a variety of programs for women to work towards being in charge of their own lives, through a variety of support services. Specifically, I'll talk about shelter and transitional housing with regard to the experience we have, but also some of the challenges and gaps we have seen.
From a shelter perspective, we are not a shelter specifically. We are a women's centre, but we work very closely with shelters. We provide, in terms of capacity, the individual and group counselling that is often needed when it relates to domestic violence. Oftentimes, from a shelter perspective, women will leave the shelter and then have that work to do. Oftentimes, there's a connection back and forth in terms of referral between our centre and shelters.
As well as lots of advocacy and support, there's connecting people to shelter, people who may come to our centre first and talk about domestic violence or intimate partner violence that they're experiencing. They're looking for ways to get into a shelter but they don't really know how to do that. We do those pieces around shelter connection.
As far as transitional housing is concerned, we have 14 transitional housing beds. Six of them are specifically for women who are in addictions recovery and need a place, through their recovery, to live, because they feel that if they were living in their home environment, they would not be successful. We also have eight beds specifically for women who are being sexually exploited or human-trafficked. Women in these transitional housing beds can live with us for anywhere between a year and two years.
As it relates to domestic violence and some of the challenges we've been seeing, I would say that some of our programs are very specific when it comes to whom they may serve. When we talk about transitional housing, I mentioned addictions recovery and sexual exploitation and trafficking. However, the women who come to all of our programs, or a large majority of them, will report domestic violence in their lives, either previously or currently. One of the challenges we've experienced is its prominence. It's spreading across all of our programs. We've been around for 34 years, and in our beginning years, domestic violence was a large portion of what we did solely. The idea of needing to broaden out into different areas of work has allowed us to do different work, but the domestic violence connection is prominent throughout all of our programs.
One challenge we've been experiencing over the last while has been with the increase in poverty and low income, specifically with women involved in domestic violence, specifically racialized women. We're located in the inner city, so we find that many of the women who come to us are living in poverty, with very low incomes. From a domestic violence perspective, they often say to us, "I do not have an option to leave. I do not have a place to stay. I do not have anywhere to go, even if I were to go to a shelter." They often feel they don't have the choice to leave. Income is a huge barrier for them.
We've seen addictions in connection with domestic violence coping for many years, but the increase in meth use is something that we've definitely been seeing over the last while as well. The challenge that comes with this is that many organizations and agencies do not want to work with people when they're under the influence and using, so that becomes a barrier as well. There are also increased mental health challenges.
From the perspective of accessing resources, often a gender lens is not put on the analysis and on the policy development, which creates a challenge in access for women specifically. An example of that might be policies related to homelessness around a housing first policy, and people needing to be homeless for six months.
Women in domestic violence situations and homelessness situations will often couch surf or find a friend or a family member to live with. They will stay in a situation that isn't the best situation but is the situation that they might feel is the best for them at that time or the safest at that time or the only option at that time.
As far as gaps go, I just want to highlight specifically for Winnipeg that we have a few gaps, I would say, related to domestic violence and other areas. We are in desperate need of a 24-7 safe space for women. We do not have a place that is open 24-7 for women to come to where they're in a situation of safety. That can be very broad, but we do not have such a place for women.
When I say women, I'm including trans women. Trans women typically report that they feel unsafe using many of the existing resources that are in place. I would say that from a crisis shelter bed perspective, we are seeing that there is nothing in place for women fleeing exploitation situations. Often the exploitation is a result of domestic violence that has happened in the past, or there can be a connection with partners who are involved in bringing women into exploitation and trafficking.
Transitional housing and affordable housing—
That's actually your seven minutes.
Executive Director, North End Women's Centre
Cynthia Drebot
Okay. That's no problem. I had a few more things, but that's really great.
If there is something specific that doesn't come up during questions, feel free to provide any information to the committee afterwards.
Okay, I will do that.
We'll now turn to the South Shore Transition House Association.
Jennifer, you have seven minutes.
South Shore Transition House Association—or Harbour House—is a 15-bed shelter that covers Lunenburg and Queens counties in Nova Scotia. We provide shelter for women and children, supporting high-risk protocols, emergency protection order application support, crisis and supportive counselling, court and sexual assault exam accompaniment, child and youth counselling, child care, referrals and advocacy. We are in schools doing educational groups. We are speaking and educating in workplaces. We operate through nine satellite locations to offer services in home communities.
Over the past five years, a remarkable increase in access to services has occurred. For example, access to our women's outreach program has increased by 968%, and participation in child and youth programs in schools by 883%. Overall distress calls have increased by 27%, in-house counselling by 105.3% and outreach counselling by 110.1%. Women are coming to the shelter more often with their children, which shows an increase of 111.45%. What these statistics show is that the community is accessing our programs and services consistently and more frequently.
Through the development of partnerships with community service providers in our jurisdiction, we are trying to minimize the risk associated with increased demand for services with no additional position funding. Our organization consists of long-term employees, team members who have immeasurable knowledge of violence against women. However, the increase in program and service access has made it a continual struggle to provide the services that clients are entitled to receive. We have not had an increase in operational funding since 2015.
After attending the Women's Shelters Canada conference this past spring and reviewing the "Blueprint", it is clear that the trends in accessing shelter services across Canada have increased in all areas, perhaps as a result of movements like #MeToo, but ultimately because people understand gender-based violence differently. It seems that violence against women is being de-normalized.
Shelters are not band-aid solutions to issues of violence against women. Rather, they are part of a larger, system-level component that's essential for supporting women and children in crisis. We provide 24-hour-a-day, 365-days-a-year access to a place that is safe and that helps each woman with her immediate needs. These include health care, safety planning, criminal justice system navigation, trauma-informed supportive counselling for the woman and her children, and linking with a broader system for next steps. Without a safe place to go to escape violence, the level of risk in her situation will certainly increase.
Shelters are an integral component in addressing gender-based violence. Our goal is to eliminate gender-based violence. By doing the things that we do, we are part of the solution. Of course, we have a strong focus on prevention and education, but this is often challenging to embed into our work of direct client service delivery—the clients we support in-house and through our outreach programs are our priority. However, as I detailed previously, our outreach services are reaching more people.
We have been in our community for 31 years. The significant increase in access can also be attributed to an increased understanding that what shelters do works. We engage with people fairly, we understand the impacts of gender-based violence and we provide meaningful contributions, not only to their journey to safety but to the broader system seeking to end gender-based violence.
With regard to existing federal programs and funding, we co-wrote an application with two local partners to Status of Women Canada. We submitted it in March 2018. To this point, we have not received any communication about whether our project was approved or rejected. We also have concerns with restrictions on how the funding can be used. This is an issue for us. For example, we need more people doing outreach activities, but if the funding guidelines state that the money cannot be used to support existing programs, it fails to address one of the greatest needs we have. People are accessing our programs and we need to build our staffing capacity to meet the demands of our communities.
The Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation, which is offering the co-investment funding, will give us up to 40% for shelter repairs, renovations or—
Could you slow down just a little bit? The interpreters are having trouble listening and translating at the same time.
Executive Director, South Shore Transition House Association (Harbour House)
Jennifer Gagnon
Okay, sorry.
The Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation will give up to 40% for repairs, renovations or new capital investments, but for an organization that barely makes it out of a deficit, creating and finding a 60% contribution becomes basically impossible. Fundraising such a large amount is unachievable in a rural area of Nova Scotia that has high unemployment rates and a large geographical boundary.
With regard to the gap between the beds required and the number of beds, reviewing occupancy rates of shelters can be incredibly misleading. If we have a family in a room with three beds and only two are being used, it skews the occupancy rate. When a family is in-house, no single woman can stay in the same room for privacy, as well as safety, concerns. Also, if there's a woman with significant health concerns, it may be difficult or unsafe for her to be housed in a room with other women. However, it is our policy to try to put several single women in a room together as much as possible.
We do not have second- or third-stage housing, although the demand is most certainly there. If we had second- or third-stage housing, every unit would be filled today. Instead, women are staying in shelters longer, as safe and affordable housing is just not readily available in our jurisdiction. Women have left our shelter to go to substandard housing, such as apartments with no flooring other than plywood or rooming houses that are co-located with men, which is a significant safety issue for women experiencing gender-based violence. These rooms often do not have inside or outside locks, which leaves women unsafe when they are home or when they are in the community.
Single staffing of shelters also creates numerous concerns. The staff is responsible for answering the crisis line, meeting the needs of the in-house clients, letting people in and out, monitoring the overall house safety, completing intakes and departures, liaising with community partners, and case conferencing—all while trying to do supportive counselling sessions and working to complete safety assessments and plans. Sessions are interrupted, thus creating problems in the continuity of the counselling rapport.
The solutions I propose are as follows:
Address the increased demand for services by reviewing the core funding to shelters.
Fund double staffing in shelters to ensure the continuity of counselling rapport and case planning. This will also lead to shortened stays and will ensure that all the needs of the shelter are met.
Fund shelters to develop and implement both second- and third-stage housing in Canadian jurisdictions.
Review the existing Canadian shelter data and the outcomes of programs and services.
Create clear and time-sensitive communication with regard to funding allotments and project approvals or rejections.
We'll now turn to Donna Smith with the Tearmann Society for Abused Women.
You have seven minutes.
I do appreciate this opportunity to participate in this current study of shelters and transition houses serving women and children affected by violence and intimate partner violence. The Tearmann Society for Abused Women, commonly known as Tearmann House, is a 15-bed shelter providing services similar to our sister shelters across the province, as described by my colleague Jennifer Gagnon of Harbour House.
I would like to note that Tearmann House and Harbour House are members of the Transition House Association of Nova Scotia, which includes seven transition houses, one outreach organization and two healing centres, covering 12 locations throughout Nova Scotia. I will be speaking to the front-line work as it pertains to violence against women and the scope of the study.
Speaking for Tearmann House—and I believe this is common to shelters in Nova Scotia—our occupancy is at near full to full capacity on a consistent basis. Since January of this year, 78 women and 44 children resided at Tearmann, with an occupancy rate of 70%. If a woman is in need of shelter and we are at full capacity, we will offer our living room for the night and work with the woman for options the following morning. Shelters that are at full occupancy often call other shelters closest to them to see if beds are available, and if so, women and their children may agree to transfer to another shelter for a temporary stay. I am aware that in urban areas and some rural areas across the country there are simply not enough beds or shelters to meet the needs of women seeking safety, particularly in our indigenous communities in the north, as Lyda Fuller clearly described in her presentation.
Shelters, whether at full capacity or not, are often single-staffed and are experiencing an increase in the needs of women who are presenting with complex trauma, mental health issues and/or addictions. In our community, the changes to mental health services, for example the closure of a short-stay unit, have resulted in an increase of referrals from the hospital. Transference of trauma treatment from the health care system to community-based organizations, with no additional resources, has created a widening gap for women experiencing trauma and a need for suicide intervention and mental health supports.
Women are triaged, assessed and discharged with a referral to shelters. Shelter staff offer a trauma-informed approach, and meet all women where they are. It is a disservice to women, when they arrive at a shelter and after spending some time with us, to realize we do not have the clinical capacity to provide appropriate treatment or support for the complex trauma they are experiencing. The ability to, at the very least, double staff to contribute to the physical and mental well-being of women and children, in addition to funding for clinical therapists, would contribute effectively to address immediate trauma needs and reduce the long-term impacts of trauma.
The effect of violence on children is manifesting as well, with the presentation of aggression and violent behaviours, and it requires full-time trauma-informed supports. The safety and needs of all children residing in a shelter are the key to healing, but it is an extremely stressful time for both mom and child during their stay. Our child and youth counsellors offer in-house and outreach programs and services to support this. Last year, we had an overwhelming increase of 40% in our child and youth outreach programs, and as resources were stretched, we tried our best to meet the needs of children and youth in the shelter and respond to the needs in the community.
Tearmann was fortunate to receive two years of funding to support a casual child and youth counsellor through our annual letter campaign. We also received funding from the Pictou Mutual Community Foundation, which supports self-esteem programs for girls in rural schools. Additionally, we received funding from the Pictou County United Way to support a house coordinator's position. These options are not always available in every community, and while we are meeting the needs in the short term and temporarily, the temporary and part-time positions are difficult to fill and do not support the hiring and retention of trained staff.
Women and their families can stay at Tearmann House for up to six weeks. Often, depending on available and affordable housing options or other circumstances, they may request an extension. On average, 70% of women departing from Tearmann will be accessing income assistance. The cost of renting an apartment is often $80 to $100 more than the rent budgeted by income assistance, resulting in women having to take their excess rent out of their personal allowance amounts.
Women with children may be entitled to the supplement offered through Housing Nova Scotia, and while this offers women the opportunity to rent decent housing, the supplement is not transferable, meaning that a woman who is being stalked by an abusive partner and needs to relocate will lose her supplement.
We are fortunate to be partnering with the local housing authority and the Affordable Housing Association of Nova Scotia, with funding through the homelessness partnering strategy, to manage six second-stage housing units at Brenda Place, which are at full occupancy. Women can reside in these units for up to a year and have access to ongoing programs and support. We know that the most dangerous time for a woman is when she leaves her abusive partner. It is crucial that first-, second- and third-stage options be available and fully funded for women and their families fleeing family and intimate partner violence.
Transition house workers work with women applying for emergency protection orders, peace bonds, family court hearings, and case conferencing with child welfare agencies. Women designated "high risk" based on the Jacquelyn Campbell risk assessment or the ODARA, through the police or RCMP, are requesting support with case conferencing, ensuring their voices are heard and their choices respected as they navigate through processes meant to protect them.
The pressure on women to protect themselves and their children, to leave abusive partners while knowing that their personal safety is more at risk as they do so, to relocate their families, to reside in a shelter or choose to stay in a relationship to manage risk is a burden no woman should have to endure. We all need to work together to address gender-based violence and eliminate violence against women.
My recommendations are that the federal government support provinces and territories with core funding specifically for transition houses and support services for women and their families; include the voices of women's lived experience in this study; and support "A Blueprint for Canada's National Action Plan on Violence Against Women and Girls", presented by Lise Martin of Women's Shelters Canada.
Thank you very much. That was exactly seven minutes. Well done.
We're now going to turn to Samantha Lacourse of the Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre. Welcome.
Hello, my name is Samantha Lacourse, and I am here as a representative of the Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre in Whitehorse, Yukon.
At the VFWC, I am in charge of running the only low-barrier evening and weekend drop-in program for self-identified women in the entire territory.
The landscape of issues surrounding women affected by violence in the north is very different from that in the rest of Canada. For one, there are limited services available. Also, a number of barriers and gaps in services exist for women in a northern community, the most pervasive of which I will try to touch on now.
On low-barrier services, speaking specifically about Yukon, currently there are three shelters serving women and children affected by violence across the territory. One is in Whitehorse. A second one is in Dawson City, which is located seven hours north of Whitehorse, and a third is in Watson Lake, which is five hours south of Whitehorse. None of these three shelters and transition houses will accommodate women under the influence of a substance. There is no safe option for a woman who uses substances and is affected by violence. This is indicative of a major gap in low-barrier shelters for women across the Yukon.
Regarding long-term support, when the perception of violence is no longer immediately present, the effects of violence remain. We estimate that it can take as many as three to seven years from the definitive end of an abusive relationship for a woman to get back on her feet. Women in Yukon face a pronounced lack of long-term support from organizations narrowly mandated to serve only women facing current threats to safety.
The Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre does its best with limited capacity and funding. It is not a shelter. We provide vital support for women and non-binary people in terms of advocacy, housing, food, prenatal care programming, as well as basic services in our drop-in, such as access to showers, laundry, Internet, phones, fax, long-distance calling, and hygiene products, among many other things.
More needs to be available for women past the perceived end of a threat to safety. The lens of what long-term support looks like must expand beyond the counselling and trauma treatment programs to include programs that give space for women to support and be supported by peers—
Could I get you to slow down when you are speaking?
I know your presentation is quite long, but the interpreters—
Coordinator, A Safe Place, Victoria Faulkner Women's Centre
Samantha Lacourse
Thank you. I'll slow down.
The lens of what long-term support looks like must expand beyond the counselling and trauma treatment programs to include programs that give space for women to support and be supported by peers, as well as space to build community as a remedy for isolation. Long-term support includes help with finding housing, tax clinics, employment support, and opportunities for new training and greater education. By broadening the mandate of support to women affected by violence, we can address these gaps and the needs of women past the perceived end of the abusive relationship, because the effects of trauma do not end with the violence.
In terms of capacity for supporting women living with mental health challenges, in Yukon, when an individual accesses a shelter or service due to the presence of violence in their lives and is assessed as having a mental health need, the capacity for those organizations to support them decreases. The more complex the individual's mental health situation is, the more ill-equipped staff are to support them as a victim of violence. Both needs are treated as independent from each other, rather than acknowledging their close intersectionality. This needs to change, and the only way to do so is to build the capacity of the organizations supporting victims of violence, and the people within them.
In terms of confidentiality, compounding the limited services is the social reality of northern communities. Communities in Yukon are small, and therefore an individual's social networks are well connected with others. Confidentiality is a challenge across the board, and conflicts of interest are not always evident, nor do they give favour to the more vulnerable. With only one shelter in Whitehorse, there is no other option if that shelter does not feel safe or if a person is not accepted there.
My recommendations to the committee are the following.
One, increase funding for transportation services in the north, providing lifelines for women in remote communities to get out in times of need.
Two, push for amendments within CRA policy to take into account violence against women. Currently, there is a 90-day waiting period for a person to change their status to single. This 90-day waiting period is a barrier for women to leave an abusive relationship, because many are unable to access social assistance while tied to their partner. Within the Yukon government, a smaller entity, we have advocated for and seen change in their management of applications for social assistance when violence in a relationship is declared. Still, we support many women who are faced with heavier barriers within Indigenous and Northern Affairs Canada. Should both partners in the relationship be accessing social assistance through INAC, a written notice for both parties must currently be provided to change their status to single. This is a problem.
Three, push for low-barrier shelters and create incentive for existing shelters to adopt more harm reduction practices. Again, there is no low-barrier shelter for women affected by violence in Yukon, leaving women who use substances with no safe option.
Four, increase funding for long-term support for women affected by violence. The mandate for violence against women is narrow. Immediate support exists for an individual, yet there is little for women in the years to come.
Five, this issue deserves a more appropriate voice than mine, and frankly more time than I am able to give in this presentation. We cannot talk about improving services affecting indigenous women without acknowledging the colonial mentality that informs these services. More space must be given to traditional ways of living when it is culturally appropriate.
Thank you to all of you.
We'll turn to Marc Serré for the first seven-minute round of questions.
November 5th, 2018 / 4 p.m.
Marc Serré Liberal Nickel Belt, ON
Thank you for your recommendations. They will be a great help to us as we prepare our report.
My first question is for Ms. Gagnon and Ms. Smith.
I am happy you talked about children. We know that women are vulnerable and that a lot of work needs to be done in terms of shelters, but what could we do to help you provide services to children more proactively?
Executive Director, Tearmann Society for Abused Women
In our centre alone, if we just look at children coming into the shelter who are being affected by violence in their lives, our shelters alone don't specifically have.... I mean, we have our house child and youth counsellor available to support, but we really need services outside of our shelter services that are trauma-informed. Many of the children who come to us are displaying symptoms and behaviours that perhaps fall under the category of ADHD, ADD, or other diagnoses. When you line those up with the effects of violence on children, the behaviours are often directly related to that and not specifically to the other symptoms.
We'd like to see more access to trauma-informed mental health services for children. The sooner we're able to get the services to children following a traumatic event...because studies show that this is the best form of healing. Right now there is a long wait-list for children to get into programs, have assessments done, and get the support they need.
Ms. Gagnon, what do you think?
We have one child and youth outreach worker. Her position is split between getting out in the community, doing girls groups and presentations, and also doing in-house, which greatly limits her time. We've had a major influx of children who are in-house. This is a really significant concern for us. I think a lot of us do really well liaising with mental health and addiction services, but as Donna mentioned, the wait-lists are excruciating. You can get in and have a Choice appointment in Nova Scotia, which will basically look at immediate needs, but it can take you 10 months to get in and see a therapist. It is a significant barrier to the healing and the helping. What we know about trauma is that if you support an individual as soon as you possibly can, you can reduce the long-term impacts.
So that's a very good question. It's something we struggle with on a regular basis. It really comes down to having resources to be able to support them and navigate through the provincial health care system.
Madam Gagnon, you mentioned CMHC and the 40%, that with a larger centre, they could maybe get some private sector donations or fundraising. Would you specify a recommendation on that to the committee? As a rural centre, what percentage would you recommend that this be changed to, or increased to, in order to help you out as a rural centre versus an urban centre?
I think 80% would be appropriate. We would be able to fundraise the 20%, for sure.
Okay. Thank you.
My next question is for Ms. Lacourse and Ms. Drebot.
You both talked about addictions. We've heard from other witnesses about the increase, including, I know, in the Northwest Territories and Yukon.
I think there was a comment that you don't even serve someone who has a substance addiction. We've heard from others that it is a larger issue in terms of the clinical stuff. I'm wondering if you have any specific recommendations.
Maybe we can hear from the North End Women's Centre first.
Now we will go to Ms. Lacourse.
Can you clarify for me one more time what you're asking?

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Q: WP7 how pivot control works? I'm building Windows Phone 7 application that shows a large image gallery. I'm using pivot control to show them.
The pivot has HeaderTemplate that contains 1 TextBlock (the title of the picture) and ItemTemplate that contains 1 Image control (the picture).
Supposed my gallery contains 300 pictures. When I choose 300th picture, I see the Image show the 300th picture instantly, but the header shows gradually from the 1st to the 300th title.
Why do the header NOT show the 300th title instantly ? How to force it to show instantly ?
Is there a better implementation of pivot the handle huge amount of item ?

A: You can use as many items as you want. Just use DataBinding and nothing else. No codebehind and no manually usercontroll adding. Just use Templates as you already did and all works fine. Why?
Templates and databinding has the concept, that only the data will change. If you will see scroll downl the huge list, in real only the content of items will change. The list itselfes will only stay ... for example 10 items + 2 (top/bottom) and will be filled with data of x-thousend of entries if needed. The memory only needs to show about 12 items not hunderts or thousends by using databinding.
http://msdn.microsoft.com/en-us/library/ms752347.aspx
For checking your situation, you can add any timer to the MainPage and check the RAM usage:
Private Sub dptm_Tick(sender As Object, e As System.EventArgs) Handles dptm.Tick
    txtDeviceUsedMemory.Text = "Speichernutzung : " & (Microsoft.Phone.Info.DeviceStatus.ApplicationCurrentMemoryUsage / 1024 / 1024).ToString("0.0") & "MB"
End Sub

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Supermoon Sunday: What makes it a Beaver Supermoon?
In a news cycle full of full moons – Black Moons, Strawberry Moons, Wolf Moons, and Super-Blood-Harvest Moons – those names may begin to lose meaning. Has the monthly moon hype gone too far?
Pete Caster/The Chronicle/AP
In this photo taken in September 2016, Barklee, a six-month-old beaver, uses its hind legs to scratch an itch at his enclosure at For Heaven's Sake Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation in Rochester, Wash.
By Joseph Dussault Staff
@josephdussault
On Sunday night, skywatchers will be able to see the largest full moon since 1948. Well, sort of.
When the full moon rises late this weekend, it will coincide with perigee – the closest point in the moon's orbit. This so-called Supermoon will come closer than any other in the last 70 years, and won't be rivaled until 2034. The November full moon is sometimes called the Beaver Moon, thus the "Beaver Supermoon" was born.
But as media outlets and backyard astronomers hype the lunar event, not everyone can agree on a name. It's true that the moon's actual distance from Earth will be unusually close on Nov. 13, scientists say. But in a news cycle full of moons – Black Moons, Strawberry Moons, Wolf Moons, and Super-Blood-Harvest Moons – those names may begin to lose meaning. Has the monthly moon hype gone too far?
The Beaver Moon was originally coined by the Algonquin people. According to the Old Farmer's Almanac, beaver trappers would set their bait right around the time of the November full moon. Timed correctly, they would have enough furs to last the winter. American colonists adopted the term, along with the synonymous "Frost Moon."
Such names are relics of seasonal timekeeping practices. The Harvest Moon got its title because it comes at the time of year when farmers could use extra light in the evening to bring in their harvests.
"Farmers could perform chores by moonlight that they were not able to complete during the day, especially when all the fruit was suddenly ripe," Bernd Brunner, author of "Moon: A Brief History," tells the Monitor in an email. "In the fall, under the light of the Harvest Moon – the full moon rising at around sunset for several evenings in a row – they could continue to gather their crops long after the sun had set."
The Full Buck Moon corresponds to the time of year when young deer begin to sprout horns. Then there's the Strawberry Moon, the Sturgeon Moon, the Hunter's Moon – the list goes on.
Other terms, such as the Blue Moon and the Black Moon, have been used for only three or four years in this context. These colloquial names held no astronomical or practical weight, but media outlets soon found that they were good for page views.
"[Supermoon] never was a science phrase," astronomer Bob Berman tells the Monitor in a phone interview. "Unfortunately, the hype got out of hand. Now it's not just the closest moon of the year, but the three or four closest, or even any moon slightly larger than average."
Until recently, there were only two full moon names actually used by astronomers: the Harvest Moon and the Hunter's Moon. The rest are mostly Native American in origin, and different tribes had different names for each moon.
"We'll just pick one of the many names, just because we think it sounds cool," admits Dr. Berman, who is also astronomy editor of the Old Farmer's Almanac. "There's a certain kind of fake hype surrounding these monthly moons."
But what makes us devour these articles? The fascination may go back "long before there were any written documents," Mr. Brunner says. Bits of lunar symbolism, such as the changing phases, are deeply ingrained in many cultures and religions.
"People bond with the moon," Berman says. "There's lots of lore, and sometimes it's the only thing they can recognize. Even the brightest stars, nobody wants to be bothered with charts."
Hype aside, will there really be anything super to see on Sunday night? Probably not, unless you have superhuman eyesight.
"If you go out and look at it, no human eye can see the difference," Berman says. "It's still a very unusually close moon, but the eye can't see 8 percent larger."
Luckily, there is a way to "cheat" the moon into looking bigger, Berman adds.
"The moon illusion is a psychological effect that makes the moon look much larger when its rising against objects on the horizon. Next to treetops, or a building, or church steeples, any moon would look big."
Test your knowledge How well do you know the moon? Take our quiz!
First Look Next week's supermoon to be biggest since 1948
First Look Did the moon help to tip Earth right-side up?


Momenta is a one-year-old corporation that has sought to build a distinct culture and identity through a structured process and organized rituals. The company is seeking to be a major player in the highly competitive pen-based computer market and has attracted significant funding and top-quality talent. The case describes the emergence of the corporate culture from the point of view of several key managers. Teaching Objective: To discuss the process and content of corporate culture in a start-up in a rapidly growing and competitive market. Also to discuss the CEO's role in managing highly qualified and talented subordinates. May be used with Momenta Corp. (A).


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Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR)
QuickStats: Percentage* of Adults Aged ≥18 Years with Disability,† by Diagnosed Diabetes Status§ and Age Group — National Health Interview Survey,¶ United States, 2018
Weekly / May 22, 2020 / 69(20);638
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* With 95% confidence intervals indicated with error bars.
† Disability is defined by the reported level of difficulty to questions about six domains of functioning: "Do you have any difficulty…seeing, even if wearing glasses; hearing, even if wearing hearing aids; walking or climbing stairs; communicating, for example understanding or being understood; remembering or concentrating; and self-care, such as washing all over or dressing." Response categories are "no difficulty," "some difficulty," "a lot of difficulty," or "cannot do at all." Adults who respond "a lot of difficulty" or "cannot do at all" to at least one domain are classified as having disability.
§ Diabetes status was determined by a positive response to the survey question "Have you ever been told by a doctor or other health professional that you have diabetes or sugar diabetes?" Women were asked not to include diabetes occurring during pregnancy.
¶ Estimates are based on household interviews of a sample of the civilian, noninstitutionalized U.S. population aged ≥18 years and are derived from the National Health Interview Survey Sample Adult component.
In 2018, among adults aged ≥18 years, those ever receiving a diagnosis of diabetes were more likely to have disability than those never receiving a diagnosis of diabetes (27.1% versus 8.1%). This pattern was consistent among adults aged 18–44 (16.3% versus 4.4%), 45–64 (24.5% versus 8.1%), and ≥65 years (33.3% versus 18.5%). Regardless of diabetes status, the percentage of adults with disability increased with age.
Source: National Health Interview Survey, 2018. https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/nhis.htm.
Reported by: Nazik Elgaddal, MS, nelgaddal@cdc.gov, 301-458-4538; Julie D. Weeks, PhD.
Suggested citation for this article: QuickStats: Percentage of Adults Aged ≥18 Years with Disability, by Diagnosed Diabetes Status and Age Group — National Health Interview Survey, United States, 2018. MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep 2020;69:638. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.15585/mmwr.mm6920a5external icon.
MMWR and Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report are service marks of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
Use of trade names and commercial sources is for identification only and does not imply endorsement by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
References to non-CDC sites on the Internet are provided as a service to MMWR readers and do not constitute or imply endorsement of these organizations or their programs by CDC or the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. CDC is not responsible for the content of pages found at these sites. URL addresses listed in MMWR were current as of the date of publication.
All HTML versions of MMWR articles are generated from final proofs through an automated process. This conversion might result in character translation or format errors in the HTML version. Users are referred to the electronic PDF version (https://www.cdc.gov/mmwr) and/or the original MMWR paper copy for printable versions of official text, figures, and tables.
Questions or messages regarding errors in formatting should be addressed to mmwrq@cdc.gov.
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It is that time of year. Units in the Central Minnesota Council are being visited by council representatives for the annual Friends Of Scouting (FOS) campaign. Families are being asked to contribute what they can to the council to assist in providing a quality program for the boys.
Like many councils, the Central Minnesota Council offers gifts for donors who meet certain levels of financial support. For many years they offered a framed Norman Rockwell Scouting print as an upper level gift. I am proud to say that a wall in my home office is covered with these prints collected over a decade.
During the last several years a special council should patch has been offered as a gift. Each year has been a different patch featuring a point of the Scout Law. I happen to be one of those Scout leaders who like to collect patches so yes, I have every one so far. This year's patch feature the law point of Cheerful, especially cheerful service. By the way, when you think of cheerful service don't you think of the Order of the Arrow? Did you know this year is the 100th anniversary of the OA? Can you guess what else is featured on the 2015 patch?
Once again, I like the design of the shoulder patch. I will not be wearing it on my shirt though. It will go straight into my three ring binder of council patches. This is number eight of the twelve patch series. I wonder what the next four will look like.
What do you think of this year's patch design? Does your council do something similar?
It is time once again for the Boy Scouts of the Central Minnesota Council to gather at Camp Ripley for the Ripley Rendezvous, an annual event hosted by the council and Camp Ripley. Camp Ripley is a National Guard Base found in central Minnesota near Little Falls. I know this weekend outing has been going on for at least 40 years because I remember attending when I was a young Boy Scout.
Ripley Rendezvous 2014 "Aim High!" will be held the Camp Ripley Army National Guard Training Facility, Camp Ripley, MN. This spring time event is truly a unique opportunity to utilize the traning facility's ranges and buildings in presenting two distinct levels of involvement.
The Adventure Program will be conducted at the ranges for everyone that enjoys shooting sports. Scouts will be using shot guns, .22 rifles, 50 cal. black powder inlines, archery, tomahawks, and sling shots; all skills that need a great deal of concentration to perform at your best.
The Scout Ops is an Extreme program for the older Boy Scouts and Venturers, who are ready for a more rigorouse program using advanced physical and mental trials that go along with team work and goal accomplishment. The personal satisfaction of knowing you did your best, no matter the outcome is something to be proud of. This older Scout program will have several static displays, exhibits and hands-on activities for everyone who wants a tougher challenge.
This is similar to the program of the last few years. While our Scouts were looking forward to attending the rendezvous I have heard that overall numbers of participants are down. It might be time to change up the program and offer something different next time.
Yep. It is that time of year. Boy Scout councils are conducting their annual Friends of Scouting campaigns to raise money to support the local council and its program. Our district executive from the Central Minnesota Council visited our troop's court of honor on Monday, March 24th. The troop almost met the goal set by the council, and still may. A few of the parents took the forms home with them to consider how they could financially support the council.
In our council, as I am sure in many councils across the country, there are various tiers at which a donor is recognized for their financial gift. For several years now, the Central Minnesota Council has presented donors with a special council shoulder patch for meeting the first level of support. These patches have featured a design based on a Norman Rockwell painting. The year's patch was based on the painting of a Boy Scout saluting. I am not quite sure of the name of the painting, but it might be called We, Too, Have A Job To Do from 1944. As you can see from the picture, it is a fully embroidered patch, not a print like two patches a few years ago.
At another gift level the donor would receive a framed print of this Norman Rockwell painting. I think it was ten years ago that the council last offered this print. My home office wall displays 15 different framed prints offered by the council over the years. There is not much room left for any new ones.
I think the council did a good job with this year's patch. I am happy to add it to my csp collection. This patch takes us nearly to the halfway point of the Scout Law. I look forward to seeing what the next seven years of patches will look like.
What sort of incentives does your council offer during its Friends of Scouting campaigns?