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Ready to Read
Historical Novels -Bobi Andrews

Tuesday, February 9, 2016



My backyard with its koi pond and feeders is a haven for squirrels and

birds.   We've had a family of cardinals for years with the male red

contrasting within the green bushes and their showy appearance at the

feeders spectacular.  I've always liked cardinals.  Who doesn't?

However, sometime in the last three months, Mama Cardinal has

developed a neurosis.  She lands at the feeder and then flies against the

living room and kitchen windows, her head and beak pounding like

someone knocking at my door. She does this all day.  Papa

Cardinal, on the other hand,  lands at the feeder and then flies

away totally disclaiming any responsibility for the antics of mama bird.    


There's no bird psychologist listed in the yellow pages and she doesn't

appear to harm herself.  I don't know if she and papa cardinal are on the

outs and she is lonely, or what?  Well, anyway . . . until spring . . .

 "Knock Knock"

 "Who's there?"

"Me, dumb cardinal."   

Friday, January 1, 2016

  In Memory of Bob Andrews

Although for many years troubled
by a number of infirmities, Bob was
an artist blessed by God with a gene
for music. In his professional life,
he was a civil engineer developing
residential Municipal Utility Districts.
He was part of the team that built the
infrastructure for Sugar Creek.

Throughout his battle with Alzheimers,
the music stayed with him. He
was always good for his version of
"Misty." I remember attending a
piano concert at the church and Bob
playing the music on his lap. His fingers
trilled with the piano, and pounded
the chords in time with the music.
At Park Manor he'd join the Heritage
Baptist service of sing along with their
song leader. A week ago,he sang a
gusty version of "Amazing Grace."

His adventures at Randalls grocery were
noteworthy. When he could no longer
drive, his trips to Randalls to ride the
scooters became a highly anticipated event.
The employees were unbelievably helpful.
They knew when he was in the store and
Pam kept her eye on him. At check-out
she'd check and chide him for the forbidden
sugar items he had snuck into his cart.
Meeting him at the curb, Max would help
him enter, reach the high shelves, restart the
scooters, and redirect him when he got lost.  

For a number of years he carved decoy ducks in his
studio at home and often came up with political
cartoons. An unabashed storyteller, his imagination
always prompted him with mischief.

Because of his illnesses and handicaps, he had a
number caregivers that made his life more enjoyable.
Among these were Dr. Dandona, his primary physician
who would end his visit wagging her finger at him,
"No More Sugar." Beautiful Sam at Sundance welcomed
him with grace and humor; Kichen, Flo and Kelly at the
Wound Center kept him laughing; Celia, Miriam, and
Bella and his other caregivers at Alpha Home Health
brought cheer and hope. Terri the leader of the Mamie
George Community Center Activity Room brought art back
into his life. For five years our neighbor, Bob,
brought him a freshly grilled chicken each Sunday. The
Richmond Fire Department knew him on a first name
basis when I called for the lifts that kept him on
his two feet. HG and Carole were faithful friends and
included him in the Missouri City Friends of the Arts
concerts with a Baytown supper finishing the evening.
Chris and Ron remembered him with comfort and faith.
When he could no longer communicate as he would wish,
he'd tell the kind people who helped him, " I love you."

Although Bob's deafness made him unable to hear sermons,
he maintained a personal life with God. I'd hear him pray
at night, and sometimes as he closed, I heard him say,
"Amen. Hook em Horns." When his precious daughter lost
her bout with cancer and died this past spring, he was
devastated. With her picture and cross he made at the
Community Center, he prayed that he would find Jennie
and be with her in heaven. And now as his life has ended,
I pray for him, "God Speed."

                          ------Bobi Andrews, December 30, 2015

Jessie Andrews Grimm

A Granddaughter's Prayer

Memorial Service, December 30, 2015 


You are our creator.  You are the author of life.  Life is such a precious gift from you and our time here is so short. 

We come together today to remember and celebrate a precious life you gave each one of us.  Big Papa loved his family well.  He was a man with great ambitions and big dreams.  Thank you for the legacy he left us and the life lessons we will forever treasure in our heart.

Thank you for the hope you have given us through your son Jesus.  You say this is not the end and that one day we will, who believe, forever spend eternity with you.  Father be with us as we grieve the loss of a grandfather, dad, husband, uncle and friend.  Comfort us in our pain and remind us to keep our eyes fixed on you--the author and perfector of our faith.  In Romans, I echo Paul's words, for I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love.  Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today and our worries about tomorrow, nor height or depth or anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ, Jesus our Lord.

Father, thank you for life.  Thank you for your son that made a way for us.  Thank you for my grandfather.  I ask that you speak and move in each of our hearts in a way only you can do that will move us closer to you.

I love you in Jesus name.  Amen

Romans 8:38-39
Isaiah 61

Tuesday, October 28, 2014


HETTY'S SONG, The Death of the Skylark has now joined my two previously published books -- The Sotweed Smuggler and Dear Mama, Love Sarah -- in print.

Now it's your choice. Either e-book Kindle or soft cover Print.

See reviews posted on Amazon.


Saturday, October 25, 2014


The Gulf Coast (Houston) has precious few really blue days. Summer 
is so humid,  the  clouds heavy and the blues paled, but when the humidity 
drops and the temps sit nicely in the 70's and 80's, we enjoy some of the 
bluest skies you'll ever see.  

We know not to expect the multi-red and orange colored leaves 
of New England, frosty Colorado mountain peaks rising in the distance, 
or rushing water gurgling over round river rocks. As the season 
develops, seldom do we have snowflakes larger than the barest of 
imagination, and the thinnest skin of ice sends motorists
skidding and school children home. Anemic snowmen are few 
and far between. 

But we do have marvelous weeds.  Lady Bird Johnson would
cringe at this description, but in our yards we sometimes forget
that some of these  nature-provided wonders are bonafide wild 

For my memory-challenged Alz husband Bob to press 
in a remembrance book, we gathered nine different yard flowers:  
flame-red hammili, deep pink knock-out roses, multicolored 
yellow, orange, pink and blue "squirrel-planted" lantana, 
rosy-red impatiens, a tiny yellow (no name) flower dodging the mower, 
lavender wandering jew, rustic red shrimp plant, iridescent purple
bougainvillea, and blue white-mouth dayflowers. A large yellow and 
purple globe droops from the banana trees, and a strange yellow 
elongated bloom hides within the large cut leaves of the 
philodendron plant shadowing the pond. New this year are 
entire fields of goldenrod along the neighboring road to the highway.

So I have a pretty picture for you.  Imagine the cloud-free blue, 
blue sky, a field of golden goldenrod and a smattering of the 
blue dayflower, the latter a small orchid shaped bloom the color 
of the sky.   Tallow tree leaf disks are the closest to turn to autumn 
colors and float midst the leaves and seed pods that have fallen 
from the mimosa tree into the koi pond providing a playground 
for skirtering and swishing orange koi gasping for air and playing 
peek-a-boo under the leaves.  Blue dragonflies, sometimes coupled
into twos,  dip and flutter between the overgrown arrow root 
water plants. Across the fence, a pecan or two thump to the 
ground arousing two scurrying squirrels under the watch of a
mockingbird and scolded by a blue jay.   

Now add a soft lounge pillow, a generous application of 
mosquito repellant, a good book, and a glass of chardonnay --  

Wednesday, August 27, 2014


Alzheimer's victims need to keep their mind occupied,
otherwise you can't imagine the mischief they can and
will get into.
Throughout the disease's progression, some of the mind
stays in the real world.  Problem is, we don't know
which part.  A bored, agitated patient is more than unpleasant
to handle, so its worth the effort to try to keep
them active at least in the first couple of developmental
stages. Don't look for perfection--just busy hands.

So far, I've had some limited luck with

1)         Pasting family pictures in picture albums.
2)         Organizing a coin collection (This has limitations if
                        they think they can get rich by selling
                        the coins.)    
3)         Keeping a calendar of appointments/activities
4)         Playing Scrabble with himself (spelling doesn't count)
5)         Writing short stories (or a few lines) about what he
                        sees in pictures.
6)         Looking at bird and flower books, to use with
                        adult coloring books (Avail through

Any other ideas???

Saturday, August 16, 2014


After a hiatus from writing for six months tending to the early
medical needs of my husband, I'm settling in and blocking
time for writing.  I've missed my friends at my writers' group,
book clubs and stitchery group. 

I' M EXCITED -- I'm ten chapters in a new project and
my muse is going wild.  Some writers hate the research part of
writing a novel, others get started and can't quit gathering stories,
events and ideas. (I'm in the latter group.)

The title of my new story is "THE TIDEWATCHERS"  (circa 1760)
which begins with a young lad's experience in Wales watching his
Quaker mother tied to a stake in the bay at low tide and drowning
with other persecuted Quakers when the high tide rolled in. The vicar,
who ordered the persecution, becomes the boy's enemy and his
retaliation and misery lead him to runaway to London to become
a member of a body snatchers gang servicing cadavers to the famous
London medical community.  To avoid prison, he indentures himself,
coming to America to become a Baptist minister settling in Kentucky.
Through thick and thin, he has one friend, his dog, Vundermutt.

Thought I would share some interesting items my research turned up.

·        The death by tidal drowning began in early Egypt,
spreading across Europe and Great Britain for the
persecution of non-conformist religious
                           believers.  (Most often Mennonites and Quakers).

·         Barber-surgeons were medical practitioners who
picked lice from a person's head, trimmed and
shaved beards, extracted teeth, performed
   minor surgical procedures and bloodletting.

·        A barber pole (the red and white striped symbol
for barbering as we know it) was symbolic: 
The 1780 barber poles had a brass ball at its top
where leeches were kept, and a basin at the bottom
to receive the patient's blood.  The pole itself was
used for the patient to grip during bloodletting to
bulge the location of the veins. The red and white
strips represented the bloodied and clean bandages
which were washed and hung to dry outside the shop. 
The wind twisted the bandages together creating
the spiral patterns we see today on barber poles.
                           (Ref:  Wonders and

·        The town of Stoke on Trent was actually a
combination of six communities banded together for
mutual interests and trade.

              The Town of Towcester was one of the oldest Roman
              towns and was noted  then as now for the manufacture
              of china and dinnerware.  Go to any
              department store and likely the origin of the
              companies displaying china was Towcester, England.

·        For several generations, body snatching was an
accepted and profitable business for medical and anatomy
schools. However the practice became corrupted by gangs,
and body snatching from ill-repute hospitals and graves
became subject to arrest and deportation.  Accusations
of murder in order to harvest a dead body was quite

If any of my readers have information or interests during this
time period, I'd love to correspond with you.