A New Year Advances

Wow, 2007 is almost here! This is both an ending as well as a beginning for everyone, not just myself. In looking back on 2006 I can see a good deal of change in my life, both good and bad. This year there wasn't too much overly bad or good, so it was balanced. The writing has taken off in word flow and people are wanting to see my novels for consideration which is a big jump from 2005.

Goals for 2007
Let my darling Hubby know just how much he is loved by me!

Getting Novel #1 out to the publisher on time.

Getting Novel #2 out to the publisher on its time.

Eat healthier.

Move more.

Just be happy.

Write that fantasy novel I keep promising myself to write.

Knit like the wind and enjoy it. It reallys isn't as hard as I thought it was in my head.

Go to the local knitting club meetings. (Yes, I am seriously considering this.)

Work more on the house.

Cook more.

Enjoy my life with my dear Hubby even more.

Enjoy my life with my friends even more.

This year I am not going to number anything. I am just going to list things I believe I can accomplish and will accomplish.

The Greatest Christmas Poem, a Wonderful Thing to Do for Others, and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! All in One!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash,tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky so up to the house-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

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If you would really like to get involved with a wonderful project for the troops, check out The Ships Project. This is a wonderful project where knitted and crocheted caps and slippers are sent to the soldiers overseas, and the sailors. I am going to knit at least one cap for this project, but plan on doing more. There are also projects to do during the hot summer months as well. They are called "cool ties" and helps the soldiers stay cool, or cooler than otherwise they would be. Again, these are made and sent out to the troops. Check out the web site.

* ^ * ^ *

Well, my dear friends, Christmas has almost arrived. So, for me, this is the last post until after Christmas Day unless something absolutely wonderful pops up you all simply MUST know about! So, Merry Christmas! And just in case I don't see some of you until after the first of the new year, "Happy New Year to you and yours!" Be blessed, my friends.

Can't You Just See This?!

I admit, it is Garfield, but can't you just see some kid's face during the very same moment? Oh, how this makes me laugh!

Christmas, All of a Sudden

Today began a little rough. I ate some things last night I should not have eaten, so my gall bladder was not happy with me. This means for the next few days before Christmas I have to be extremely good and careful to stay away from all of the bad-for-me foods and eat only the good-for-me foods. This isn't going to be a really difficult thing to do - the only thing I have to be extremely careful of is to stay away from nuts for a little while longer.

Later on one of my really good girlfriends came over with her sister and worked wonders on the front room. I am stunned by how pretty it is now! There is room! Good room! They understood exactly what I wanted to do and just went to it. I love them!

Yeah, it is feeling a lot like Christmas all of a sudden.

Scrapbooking and Coupon Books

OK, I have fallen victim to a desire to do something really cute for Hubby for Christmas. It involves paper, cute stickers, and cute, multi-colored (probably gel) pens!

I have been absolutely dying to get into the flow of scrapbooking and documenting our life together, but now a friend has given me a fantastic idea,so I am going to make sure an follow through with it because, well, it will just be nice to see Hubby smile and know I went a little further and did this for him. When it is finished I will scan it in and show you all.

Remembering a Landmark - Carl Sagan

We humans are ones for anniversaries. We have anniversaries for the day of our birthday, happily (usually) called "birthdays"; first kisses, first dates, wedding days, but What do we do with the dates of deaths? Deathdays is a bit on the morbid side. In the Orthodox faith we have a tradition for this. It is simply called a remembrance, or memorial. So today, we have a memorial of Carl Sagan, gone for ten years now.

In Leslie County, Kentucky where I grew up, there was nothing of advancement in science. My Dad was a coal miner and my Mom was a housewife. My sisters, by the time I could fully remember, had pretty much all married and had lives of their own. This left my Mom and Dad to deal with a very sick child. Me.

The community we lived in was small. Close knit. Paranoid of strangers. It still is one of those rural places where you can still end up being an "outsider" even after living there for twenty years. (Trust me, an "outsider" is better than being labeled a "Northerner" there to this very day.) There was a big danger of growing up to believe there was no other place in the world. Yes, we had television, but we didn't have cable. Whatever was floating about on the air was what we received. There was contact to other worlds, other cultures with the television, but I can still remember hearing my grandmother and older people stating, quite solemnly, "I sure wouldn't want to live there" when seeing New York City or some other place. Those were "heathen" places.

I was pretty much growing up to believe much like this, until I asked my Daddy one night while looking up at the stars, "What's out there, Daddy?" I guess I was about four at the time.

"I don't know, buddy," he said, "but I'm sure there is something." We fell silent and just looked at the night sky, and I wanted to know what was out there, what made up the world itself, and questioned if life could exist on other worlds and, if so, would it be like ours? Like mine?

Time passed with me being in and out of hospitals and fighting this illness. I read voraciously and when I couldn't hold the books in my hands I listened to them on cassettes and even some were on LPs! Each and every time something about space came on PBS I watched it if at all possible. Carl Sagan always made the most sense to me, during these years and times of exploration and growing up, getting better, getting sick.

There were some people who were concerned in the community because, according to them, I was in danger of forgetting about God because I was so into science of many forms from astronomy, astrology, anthropology, archeology, and paleontology. Yet, the more I discovered the more my young mind was convinced there had to be something, someone directing all of this because "happy accidents" on such a scale had to be orchestrated and governed by, for me, God. Even though Carl Sagan never said there was no God, he never said there was one either, so I felt safe in my belief. What was more, I could understand what he spoke about and it related to my life and being. It was magnificent! He was magnificent!

Carl Sagan has left us. But he has left behind a body of work that is truly expansive in the questions it answers as well as the questions it encourages. Throughout my life, when it came to science, Carl Sagan was my landmark, one of the bigger guides to helping me explore a world far larger than the little place I came from.

For more information on Carl sagan visit these check out the blog-a-thon for Carl Sagan, Carl Sagan.com, and his son, Nick Sagan a wonderful SF writer.

Christmas and Sudden Domesticity

Today has turned out to be quite on the chilly side, at least for me. It is 41*F according to the little temperature stamp on my homepage. Yesterday I did not have to turn on but one heater, and, since it was close to the computer it kept me perfectly happy and warm. However, today it is chilly and I have had to light the kerosene heater and turn on the little electric heater that is very close to the computer so as to keep warm and keep the arthritic pain at bay.

Despite the chill, I am moving quite well today and even have plans for adventures in cleaning. It isn't strenuous today, just some dusting with the long handled fuzzy thing. My "long handle" is from the bamboo outside. Since it is extremely long, and I am extremely short, it works splendidly.

The coolness is making me really think more and more about Christmas. It is only FIVE DAYS AWAY! For a moment today I almost panicked because one of my darling Hubby's presents has not arrived yet. Nor has the Swiss Colony things I ordered. They promised - Swiss Colony promise - the packages would arrive in time for Christmas. I am holding them to their word, and if the packages don't arrive, well, there will be some very polite words with the company's shipping department. Yes, Swiss Colony has never failed me, but this year is the first year we have not received the packages at the beginning of the week before Christmas, and there was absolutely nothing done differently this year than last year. Sadly, the Swiss Colony order is not the order I am waiting on for my husband. What the Christmas holiday be without stress of some sort?

Nor, do we have any of the packages wrapped. Still, this is the least of the worries. We have always had quite a number of packages to wrap on Christmas Eve, so this year is no different from any other in that respect. Although I would like to go paper shopping and get different paper to add to the collection from last year.

*sigh* Yes, I guess I am feeling very domestic at the moment. Do you want to know something almost disturbing? I am enjoying it!

Christmas Cards

The Christmas cards have reall been picking up. Day-before-yesterday we received two Christmas cards and yesterday we received two Christmas cards.

I love Christmas!

Computer Problems and Christmas Thoughts

It is hard for me to accept there is just a week left until Christmas. There aren't that many decorations up in the house, and no Christmas tree. In fact, I highly suspect there isn't going to be a Christmas tree. Not because we don't want one. Of course. But because this has been a hard month or two for me physically and dear Hubby has had to go to work, then come home and take care of a very sick wife. Now that I am feeling better it is a wonderful possibility I am going to make it to Christmas and passed it virus and illness free (OK, any more new illnesses). This makes my heart and head very happy, because, as I have forgotten recently, that half the battle of getting better is in your head as well as your body.

So, the Christmas decorations are really not present. No presents are wrapped, as of this date, but that will be corrected within the week, and Christmas music has been playing almost constantly all day, almost from the time I get up until the time Hubby comes from work, and then I shut it off almost sadly. At the same time, it is warm, extremely warm, like Spring, not Christmas. I never ever expected to say this out loud, or even think it, but, it would be nice if the temperatures matched the season and it was cooler. It doesn't have to be horribly cold, but I wouldn't mind seeing just a little snow flake or two the day after Christmas, or perhaps even Christmas Day.

I have actually wanted to write about this all of yesterday and share my music, musings, and just general chat with you all about how the Christmas tide is swelling in this heart of mine and making me look forward to Christmas service which celebrates His birth and is the reason for this season, BUT, the computer had other ideas. Actually, the ISP has had other ideas and decided it was not in the mood to permit me to update Blogger or even my little LJ. So, for most of the day I was fluctuating between remorse at not actually sitting down to write because I was having computer issues, anger at trying to do a bit of research on the internet and being dropped like a hot rock every five minutes or so, and feeling all Christmasy in the good periods before another dropped moment. Yes, yesterday was a bit on the testy side.

So far today everything has been moving quite comfortably and surprisingly it is much cooler than it was for the weekend. I wonder how many children and adults are praying for snow and a white Christmas? And, just so you know, no, I haven't been praying for a white Christmas. I have been praying for people and events far beyond my control and needed to give their problems to God. So, I've been doing the hard prayers for the past few days. Now, everything appears to be looking up.

More Christmasy thoughts later.

A Kind Hearted Giant

The story about the tallest man in the world saving two dolphins almost made me cry, especially since the river dolphins in China are now listed as extinct. There are more pictures of him here. His name is Bao Xishun.

INK! I GOT INK!

Yesterday, when darling Hubby checked the mail, I had a package. No, this isn't so astounding since it is Christmas and most of my shopping this year has been done on-line (a trend I plan on keeping up, by the way). But this wasn't a package for someone else - this was a package for me. It was two bottles of ink. One is blackest black and the other is plum purple. How can you go wrong with those sorts of names. Plum purple just makes me smile every time I see it.

Since writing with dip pens and fountain pens are my preferred means of writing, I use a lot of ink it seems. Yes, I know. I have a bottle of green ink, chocolat ink, rose scented ink, blue ink, and now black and purple. (I had black before, but it go bye-bye.) And, no, I can't use all of that ink up at once, and it takes a while to use ink up as it is. However, does one ever really have too much ink?

My answer, of course, is "No, you can't." And, my inclination is that when a bottle of ink gets down to about half, well, it's time to get another bottle. Black is always something I will probably be ordering. It would be really nice to have an ink shop or fine writing instruments store here in Lexington, Kentucky. I don't mind ordering my ink from Columbus, Ohio at the moment. It gives me such a wonderfully warm feeling when I open the box and have wonderful new ink bottles to open!

Rabbits! ... and birds!

This adorable little fellow is Cinnamon the Disapproving Rabbit. As you can tell he is absolutely wild over pumpkin from a can. If you want to see more pictures of Cinnamon, go to Birdchick's blog and check them out, along with some wonderful images of birds, more disapproving rabbits and wonderful info about birds. And rabbits of course.

Some Linkage and a Quick Thought

Did you know Twisted Sister did a video of O Come All Ye Faithful? They did. I had forgotten it, actually, until roaming on Yahoo!'s LAUNCH today and saw it. It made me smile, so, I give you the opportunity to see it likewise. A really cool thing about this video is that the band doesn't change the words of the song. It isn't "politically correct" or "socially polite" - just the song with all of the words rocked up a bit.

Also, Peter Boyle has passed away Tuesday. This makes me extremely sad. I dearly enjoyed his performances and fell in love with Everybody Loves Raymond partially because of Frank Barone (Peter Boyle)who was Ray's dad.

And, just because, there is a rant up at The Rolling Hills about how men have become overly feminine of late. What has caused this trend? Why is it hip for a guy to be all feminine and gay, instead of being a masculine man? This makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. So, my full rant is there.

Hermitage of the Holy Cross

Several weeks ago, as you know, Hubby and I visited the the Hermitage of the Holy Cross in West Virginia. It was my first time to any monastery and Hubby's second to this monastery. Hubby spoke often since his first visit of wanting to return there for another visit and was overjoyed he was getting to go back. For the life of me I could not understand why he wanted to go back to a monastery. Now I do, but it has taken me time to digest everything I have experienced there and, even through this horrible round of sickness, Holy Cross Monastery has been a quiet place of comfort in my heart and soul.

I saw the monastery itself early on Sunday morning of our visit. Several buildings were here and there, and the Church proper and common hall were connected by decks, complete with steps. The first thing that hit me was the absence of any ramps, which made my heart take a few thunderous thuds inside my chest. My chair, with me in it, weighs about 500 pounds and it was going to have to be carried. Brother Mark came from the common hall and directed me, Hubby, and several of our friends to the Church and, with his help, they carried me onto the porch.

As I was lifted (it felt very high) into the air, I glanced up and there was an icon of Christ. "Oh Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," I prayed. Then I was on the porch and moving forward. Brother Mark crossed himself and said, "Glory be to God." It wasn't a harsh statement as, I realize, I was half expecting, but one of true thanks giving and happiness we had arrived, safely to the Church. I felt humbled. And quite thankful.

Service was Orthodox, which is one of the most wonderful things about Orthodoxy: No matter where you go to an Orthodox service, you will know the service, even if it wasn't in English. It was familiar and loving, warm to my very soul. Holy Cross gives service in English, and, I later discovered, it is the largest English speaking Orthodox monastery in the world.

After service I was expecting to leave, but the friends and another gentleman I was never to know his name, helped carry me up more steps to wait for all of us to be called to breakfast. It was there that our dearest friends introduced us by our Christian names of Mary and Moses. From that point on I was called Mary and Hubby was Moses. It was the most wonderful, and eventually quite normal part of the entire experience.

At breakfast the women were off to the side at a couple of small tables. We ate in silence while a brother read. I am not sure, exactly, how each of us conveyed our needs at the table, but it was done. Jokingly I told another friend it was a mixture of telepathy and mime, but now I am almost convinced it was telepathy. Breakfast consisted of eggs, biscuits, and hash browns and coffee (the best coffee I have ever had!) As I said, we ate in silence, and, much more amazingly, we ate in peace. It was the first meal I had relaxed at in many months.

After the wonderful breakfast, we all sat and talked with Father Seraphim. He is a convert to the faith, just as we were, and he is such a kind and well-spoken, soft spoken gentleman you are either going to fear him immediately, or you are going to adore him. We adored him, and still do. We did talk of spiritual matters, and we learned some very interesting things, but it was almost an aside. There was laughter and a wonderful sense of stillness, and peace on the large deck as we passed the afternoon. Some of us strayed to visit the goats and kittens and some of us stayed to continue talking with Father Seraphim.

There was a point when a helper came and brought out coffee and cookies for an afternoon snack. It was wonderful and calming. I had not expected to be having afternoon coffee at the monastery, and it was wonderful.

Finally the time came for me to be carried down two sets of steps to be leaving to the small store the monastery has. It went smoothly on the first set, but the second set one of the friends lost his grip and I almost tipped, but the most wonderful thing happened. I didn't panic or spazz or feel the least bit threatened or in danger. I even helped right me and the chair and then I stood for a moment while the chair was righted and we proceeded on.

At the store I could not enter, but I was not left outside alone. I was able to speak with Brother Mark for a considerable length of time. He is a novice, not a full monk yet, and he has such a wonderful spirit about him. He has an easy laugh and quiet manner about him. He has become very dear to me and Moses and we pray for him, and for all of those there at Holy Cross every day.

You want to know the strangest thing about the day at the monastery? The monks, everyone who passed by and met me, thanked me for coming and giving them such a blessing. It wasn't false, faked, or mere politeness and something they should say to someone in a wheelchair, but truly genuine. Even the Mother there thanked me for coming and being with them. Being in a wheelchair, I am quite used to the politeness that comes from most people, as well as the very much unwanted pity, but these greetings and departings were genuine. They were real, and they were quite humbling to my fighting spirit. Why? Because there was nothing to fight there. I was accepted happily and lovingly which made it so very easy to let the cares of the world fall from my shoulders, which rarely ever happens with me. Because of going there, being able to rest my soul, body, and mind there for a time has helped me fight this last battle of illness, and still is, while preparing for the celebration of Christ's birth upon earth.

Them Bones, Them Bones....

A complete skeleton of a pleisiosaur has been found! You can read about it here. I love paleontology - the study of ancient bones and remnants. Now they say they have a complete skeleton. Yay! Yes, I know it is dorky and nerdy but I like such things. Have you ever sat down to think what people are going to think about us in, oh, let's say, a thousand years or a million years by now when they are toiling relentlessly through our garbage dumps and trying to make sense out of what we were like? I don't envy them, and, sadly, I sort of hope to leave behind some landmines so they won't have a single clue what the earring on the fish hook means. Heck if I know! But it would be funny for the anthropologists to try and figure out, especially if I can be in Heaven and hear what they say. I wonder if it would make me laugh, or make me sad that, perhaps, human kind has seriously lost its humor.

Thoughtful Saturday

Today I slept late because my dear Hubby let me. I needed it I believe, and even enjoyed it. Before falling asleep last night, however, something important hit me.

This Christmas is important. It has felt important to me for quite a while but I haven't let myself look to see why it is so important. Last night I finally let myself and was startled by what came: It was a simple question of, what if, as in, What if this is the last Christmas Hubby and I ever spent together.

No, I am not saying I am keeling over anytime in the next year, but if you really love each day and you love the people in your life, you really should live each and every day as if it is the last day or year you have with them so they will always know just how much you love them and how important they are in your life. I want to show Hubby just how much I love him, how important he is to me, not just today but for Christmas and for every day we have from here on out. The same goes for my friends, of course, but Hubby is at the top of the list. He rightly should be there, too. So, this Christmas is important, and every day there after. It is almost a pre-New Year's Eve resolution thing. It is that important to me. He is that important to me. My life is that important to me of late.

Sometimes it seems I let myself get all caught up in writing and pushing toward getting things published and the daily grind I forget just how important this life is to me, and, sadly, I forget just how important Hubby is in this life of mine. I don't want to forget or let it slip to some segment in the daily grind I don't give much attention to, or merely glance at throughout any given day. This life of mine is something that is extremely important, even if it is important to no one else but me (and my darling husband).

I am not sure why I thought of this exactly, and, I suppose, it doesn't really matter. Each and every day I should be looking at my life in this manner and not just taking it for granted I am going to wake up the next morning and continue forward with my same old daily routine. Because it just might not happen, and if it doesn't happen I want to leave the people I love with enough of myself left behind for them to know just how much I love(d) them and just how important they are (were) to me.

Some people may look at this and say this is a morbid way of thinking, but, it isn't really, not if you seriously give it a thorough examination. I have just examined my life and found several areas lacking. Instead of making me feel depressed or stressed, it has made me take stock enough to say, "I want to change this. I want people to know just how much they matter to me." And, quite honestly, I believe this is good. If we don't examine our lives every so often we, as humans, have the habit of forgetting we even have one, and all we become then is a combination of meetings, paychecks, bills, and taxes, not a lived life. I believe I would much rather have a lived life that than other sort.

Since people have asked...

Since people have asked...no, there aren't going to be any updates about "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" until after the first of the New Year because, well, this is a happy, non-vampire sort of holiday so I am not putting up anything about it until then. I was quite surprised with what happens in the story. I believe you will be, too. So, now you know.

It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas...

Today I am feeling better, just as important as feeling better is, something else important happened: it snowed. It wasn't a huge downpouring of white flakes, only my back ramp and part of my back yard had white stuff to speak of having even a slight dusting of snow, but it was enough to give my big, four-legged girls a wonderful romp and roll in as much of the white stuff as they could possibly find. Tails wagging, ears perked, tongues lolling, they went out with a new spring to their step and a new mission it appeared - to get as much of the snow on them as possible. Sadly I did not have a camera available, because I would really have loved getting a picture of them all gleeful and happy with that tiny amount of snow they had.

The temps are quite cold here, too. It is currently 11*F and feels as if it is in the single digits with the wind chill factor added in. There could be a wee bit more of snow tomorrow. The cold combined with the little snow has given me the wonderful boost to the Christmas spirit I needed. After letting the dogs back in from their romp I bundled up with my nice red lap cover and hustled me to the computer where I shopped like a mad woman. I shopped via computer/online and actually had an absolutely wonderful time. Besides it being quite fun, it was also quite successful in the accomplishment of the purchasing of gifts for the giving. It was so successful that, except for one present left for me to get, everything else is in the stocking stuffer areas and, of course, cookies and candies.

Packages have been arriving at the house all week and today there was an absolute plethera of them on the porch when my loving husband went to get the mail. It was wonderful! It felt...well, it felt like Christmas and it felt good.

Since the pain has decreased mightily, and despite the weakness I am still having, I am feeling better and feeling more like it is indeed Christmastime!

So, sing carols and lift that cup of coffee, tea, and cheer in general! It's Christmas and it only comes once a year! It is the time of hope, the true beginning of another year!

Merry Christmas!

The Faith of Every Day

Today has been one of those days when my illness of the past few days has made me give in to the body and just relax and trust and be quiet. I have slept far more today than I feel like I probably should have while at the same time helping me to feel better.

The quietness of the day with the dogs lying beside me and comforting me with their warm, happy brown eyes and gently thumping tails against the bed was the best medicine I could possibly have asked for. Since there was much I could have done around the house, or attempted to do, and nothing was done, I found myself praying often. The prayers were quiet, sincere and genuine. They were prayers for my friends, for my family, for my most beloved husband, for life in general, for my dogs. They were the prayers of constantly asking for this or that, but thankfulness they existed and were part of my life.

Since I have had to be quiet for the past few days, I have noticed just how much I actually do pray throughout the day. It was quite a surprise. It was very humbling.

Another humbling experience I want to write about in a just a couple of days is going to be going to the Hermitage. It was an experience far different than what I expected it to be, and one I hope to have again in the future, whether near or far. Right now I cannot sit quietly for very long and type because, well, it hurts, however, I will write it and then I will post it. Going to the Hermitage of the Holy Cross has been one of the greatest blessings of my life.

Betterness and Viruses

I am better!

The pain is better in my chest, but, of course, since I went to the doctor yesterday and had to sit in the doctor's office for a short amount of time, both Hubby and I picked up a nice virus that makes stomachs nasty and heads hurt. What is that line from the old HeeHaw show? "If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all...." So, yeah, I am better in many ways and worse in others.

Oh, and one good thing was discovered at the doctor's visit yesterday. I do not have pericarditis. Instead, I have costrochondritis which is inflammation of the cartilage in the chest. Still most painful.

The gall bladder problem has been resolved. I do not have to have surgery to remove it. Again, really good news for a body weary with the pain.

If all goes well the pain of the body will diminish and yours truly will be singing Christmas carols and shopping mightily before you know it! Right now, I take it easy and life progresses.

There has been some progress made today.

For everyone who has sent me wonderful well-wishes and get wells, I just want to say "Thank you!" If it were possible I would give all of you great big hugs. Since some of you have requested an update about my physical condition here it is:

I am better. I am not much better, but, at this point, any little bit of "better" that can possibly be gained is good. I noticed that today I did not have to take quite as much pain medication as yesterday and I have been able to eat granola bars, but cream of mushroom soup was not a good thing. So, I may leave cream of mushroom soup off of the edibles list for a while, maybe forever.

The chest is still sore to the touch but it is better and the pain has been better in and of itself. Plus - my back has not screamed at me at all today. Usually this means I have been a good girl and gotten the much needed sleep I was supposed to get, the arthritis is better, or the pain in my chest was radiating to my back and that is why it was screaming at me for days.

Thank you, once again, for being concerned and giving me such good thoughts. I truly appreciate it. God bless you all!

And just because it is cute, I thought you might like to see this.

Her bingo habit did it!

According to the news article, the grandmother, aged 61, had the trunk of her car full of pot. It didn't say what she was doing with it - transporting it or selling it. The reason she was in the pot trade was because her bingo habit was out of control. Why does this amuse me so?

*Click on the heading to see the article.

This thing is painful!

Monday I was vomiting and feeling like I had the flu. Tuesday my back started hurting. Not to be undone, my chest began hurting. Badly. It was SO bad I could barely breathe. Just to be on the safe side, especially since this was a pain I could not handle or kick in the head to help ease my misery of it, I called Hubby and we went to the Emergency Room at Central Baptist Hospital here in Lexington. We arrived there at around seven o'clock in the evening and didn't leave there until four o'clock in the morning. The conclusion by the doctor is that my gall bladder is not being nice and I have pericarditis, which is inflammation of the chest wall. I have never had gall bladder problems before and never had pericarditis. Both of those suckers hurt. I mean they really, really hurt.

Quite honestly, according to the CAT scan and ultra-sound, my gall bladder is (was) dilated and there is a sluge thing in it. However, when it comes to pain, there is nothing that can match the pericarditis. I mean, it is horrible. While in the emergency room I was given three shots of morphine, and finally a shot of demerol to get the pain under some type of control. By the time Hubby and I left the hospital I was already hurting again.

Yesterday Hubby and I went to our family doctor and he gave me nice pain pills and some antibiotics for a possibly infected gall bladder. I could have kissed the man for the pain pills. My chest is sore to the touch and it hurts, badly. Right now I am waiting for said pain meds to kick in. When they do, I will be far happier than what I currently am.

Just to make myself smile....

I feel bad. My back is not happy with me and my head and stomach feel as if they have been in bad independent car wrecks. So, just to make myself smile I have The Llama Song.

The Dooce Seems to Understand

Have you ever read something that made you just sit there and giggle or smile ear to ear because there seemed to be someone somewhere who understood something very private and personal about life? You might not understand everything this person is referring to, but you understand, feel a lot of connection with the most of it. For instance, I don't have kids, so don't understand everything the article is speaking of, but I have pets who are my children and this tickled me purple. I mean, I so know about how the dogs and cat can knock themselves wide awake. Go, read. See if you don't understand part of it, even the parts about relatives and gatherings for Thanksgiving or any other holiday.

Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part V

The Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part V
By M. Davenport

When I found out about Veronica's death it was too late for me to inspect the body and see what type of bite it had been, or sense any lingering presence in the room. What was even more disturbing to me was the fact I had not sensed the presence of death's arrival at any point in the night because, after Veronica retired for the night, I had passed by Edward James getting fully inibriated at the bar with Mickey over-seeing. I bade him good night and went to my own quarters for the remainder of the dark where I caught up on some over due paperwork, checked emails, and even wrote a letter for the post the next day. It was quite an oridnary evening for me, yet I did not sense when Veronica passed through the veil, and I should have. Even more disturbing was the worried look Mickey gave me in my chambers upon rising the next evening he had come to rouse me and had been unable to do so. Unlike in the movies, when the coffin lid is raised, we vampires are aware and if we do not move (especially when a wooden steak is heading towards our heart) it is by our own choice. Before Mickey told me the sad news I felt something was wrong in the house, I just could not touch upon what it was, and to make matters worse, Mickey had to tell the police I would be home come seven o'clock.

That was all I needed: the police asking me questions.

Usually I can avoid being querried about where I work or what I do beyond owning the inn and entertaining my guests. Still, there are moments when my absence must be explained during the day. This time I used the excuse I was out looking for some period antiques for the inn. Luckily I had a contact in Louisville who would back up my story. (Mickey had already emailed Frovey of the need for a cover.)

The detective who arrived prompty at 8:45 in the evening (he was supposed to have been there by 7:30) was a square fellow by the name of John Needers. According to the local papers he was a hometown boy who had done good. The only problem was he couldn't detect his way out of a paper bag and had probably gotten his appointment by knowing someone who knew someone (or knowing something on someone in power). Richmond, Kentucky was indeed a small town and had small town politics. Lucky for me Needers' mind wasn't complicated and easy to read and - sadly - manipulate. John Needers was bull headed but not strong willed, and privy to all kinds of restricted, official information, such as the wounds on Veronica's neck were just pin pricks and were made in a rosette.

A Gray Day, Outside and In

It is gray outside. Rain drips and sometimes there is a very wet mist that falls from the sky. There just isn't any way to get around the gray. It is over every inch of outside and is creeping its cold fingers into my joints and making me feel as if I was in a car wreck yesterday, which means I am suffering from it today. Things could be better, yes; but things could be horribly worse as far as my physical state goes. This means, long and short of it, I will take today for what it is and let the possibility of things being worse go somewhere else. No use putting negative energy into my body and brain. I will take the day's pains and I will find something good from it, although writing, for today, is out. It is quite difficult to type and I am making tons of mistakes, which means I will just take my meds and let the day progress and tomorrow things will be better, or, at least no worse than today. Today is a gray day, outside and in.

An Interesting Writing Prompt

In wandering through my email today I came across the Writer's Digest writing prompt. It made me stop, re-read it a couple of times, and get this big goofy grin on my face. Although I haven't done it yet, I believe I will. In the meantime, here it is for your inspection. If you write something on this I would love to see it, and post it here.

You’re out with some old friends and they’re all rehashing amusing holiday stories. You tell them that you have one to top them all. In telling your story, there are two rules: Your story must begin with, “I remember that Thanksgiving like it was yesterday” and must end with, “And that’s how (fill in the blank) got stuck inside the turkey.”

Cell, by Stephen King

I just looove zombies. Can you tell there is a lot of sarcasm here? Yes, there is if you were in doubt. Zombies give me the creeps. I don't watch zombie movies, I don't listen to Rob Zombie, and if I have my druthers you can all go watch the zombie movie and I will stay home and knit or crochet or play video games. AND I do not play zombie killing video games either (unless it is in Champions of Norath or something of that nature). Despite detesting zombies (*shudder*) I dearly love Stephen King and, because Stephen King wrote it I will read it. And, last night, I finished reading Cell. Cell is Stephen King's zombie story.

There wasn't any doubt from the very beginning this was a zombie novel. Mr. King is quite a polite soul and lets you know right away it is about zombies because he dedicates his book "For Richard Matheson and George Romero." If you ever see the name "George Romero" in something you can just bet it is about zombies.

The premise in the novel is that someone from somewhere sends a pulse out via satellite and everyone who has a cell phone and is on it at that time, or after, well, they become zombies. Our hero, Clay Riddell, is a comic artist on his way back from the most wondrous of meetings. It was a meeting where he sold his first graphic novel. All is right with his world. Then it isn't. This point was most poignant for me because, well, I could see this being me. My first novel being sold! I am officially an established writer (almost). My career has begun, and then zombies have to screw it all up.

Even though we never know who the someone was who sent out the pulse, it doesn't matter by the end of the first day. People, normal, happy, kind people are ripping ears off of dogs, killing people, and just angry beyond belief and killing. They are killing everyone that is not like them. Soon the world becomes boiled down to Phoners (the zombies) and "normies", those not zombies.

The characters are alive and vivid. I know these people, these "normies." I can spot these people on the street even if don't know them. It is every day real life that gets turned upside down. In many of King's novels, there is always a small group of people who must fight the bad things that go bump in the night, and except for The Stand I can't remember a Stephen King novel where the world was brought to its knees. This isn't The Stand. This is something that frightened me on a deep level, that level I don't want to think about because...I have a cell phone and I use it daily. It frightened me because I don't want to see my neighbors turning on their children and knowing that if the children can't run away they are going to die. It frightened me because, even though it is far fetched, it is possible. Or, at least my brain says it is possible.

Clay Riddell and his friends are just surviving. They are making it through one day at a time. They are alive. They are normal, and they decide to fight back. Fighting back gets them in trouble because you then see the zombies aren't like the zombies of the novels and movies. They are scary, telepathic and, crazy.

I don't want to give away too much about this book, but if there is a Stephen King fan on your Christmas list, you can't go wrong by getting them this book for Christmas.

Integrity

Living in this day and age you sometimes wonder if integrity still exists. Recently I was shown it does, and it does in wonderful ways. A dear Driver for Wheels returned a check to me he had not placed in the till and wanted to make sure I had it in order to void it. I was sick as a dog when he came by, but he was a wonderfully honest. Integrity is not dead. It is quite strong in some people. I needed to know that.

Integrity

Living in this day and age you sometimes wonder if integrity still exists. Recently I was shown it does, and it does in wonderful ways. A dear Driver for Wheels returned a check to me he had not placed in the till and wanted to make sure I had it in order to void it. I was sick as a dog when he came by, but he was a wonderfully honest. Integrity is not dead. It is quite strong in some people. I needed to know that.

This is just a test

Strange things are happening on Blogger. Can't post. Confused. Did this work?

I just want to say....

GOD BLESS ALL THE SOLDIERS. PAST. PRESENT. FUTURE. GOD BLESS YOU!

Fridays and Mondays

Click on the title above to see the full difference between Fridays and Mondays. I think it sums everything up quite nicely. In case that doesn't work just CLICK HERE and see for yourself.

Let's Start Today Off with Music

This kid can play!

Pink's new video - don't know why I really like this one but I do.

Have you ever noticed...

...when you really need to be healthy and clear-headed you end up getting sick? Usually it isn't one of those "little" sicknesses either, like, oh a two hour something or you just kind of don't feel well, but those "O my goodness golly I am sick!" feelings. Yeah, I have that right now. It started yesterday and has continued straight through today. It is my hope, wish, and prayer that tomorrow I will feel more normal and can get back working well on Project I which is progressing nicely so far. At least I took the weekend off and it has done quite well to be off. So now I am hoping with Monday, I can work in peace and get everything moving the way it needs to move, or rather, keep it moving the way it is.

One good thing about today has been that I have slept a lot so hopefully my body will have enough energy to get over this last little step of the illness. Tomorrow my dear, sick hubby is going back to work, and so should I, no matter how much the bed tempts me with its warmth and cozy dogs to snuggle with.

For now, I go back to bed and hope for a healthier day tomorrow.

Heard This the Other Day and Enjoyed It

This really made me smile the other day.

And who says Justin Timberlake can't do something?

I'm Back, Baby!

It has been forever since I have been able to update The News or do anything majorly creative with the internet. Now I am no longer from the internet and The News will be updated regularly again.

First things first: I have not forgotten "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" and it will be the first thing posted on Monday or Tuesday at the very latest.

Other things next: Since everything is still jumbled there isn't going to be an actually day for anything to be set on. So, just just have to keep checking to see when things are going to be up and what they are.

I have missed you all!

Much to Tell Much to Do

How can I possibly explain all of the cool things I have been discovering while do the writing thing of late? I mean, I have discovered that when you are seriously hungry and the words are flowing you can actually eat granola bars and things of this nature without having to actually stop the writing process. I have also discovered that each and every time you get to a very good or difficult part, your youngest dog must always, and I mean ALWAYS go outside just at that particular moment, and, about the time you get back into the necessary frame of mind you need said four-legged adorable critter must come inside so as not to miss the next moment this needs to occur. Yes, pets do help, even in their hinderances sometimes. Go figure.

So, yes, the absence has been quite productive, although I miss having a daily update here and posting of "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" and other nice things. Soon, though, everything will be close to being back to some semblance of normal. I just can't give you an exact date as to when it will be. Yeah, that's life. You know it is going to happen but you sometimes have no clue when it is going to actually take place. Plans. Pft. They really do attract monkeys with wrenches as a dear friend of mine says.

Hmmmmmm

Your Wrath Quotient: 82%

You have the makings of a very evil dictator. If you don't want to go that route, you should consider anger management!

How Much Wrath Do You Have?

A Deep Shock

Have you ever truly considered just how short and unexpected life really is? My niece, Cathy, passed away suddenly on Tuesday, October 10th. She was in her thirties and had finally gotten hold of her life. I don't feel as if it was unfair for her to die. It is just a big shock. She was living her life and loving it; she was discovering new things about herself and others and time was before her. She dropped, collapsed at her parents' home and never regained consciousness. Life is fleeting, Dear Readers. It truly is.

Alexandre Dumas says...

"A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms against himself."


– Alexandre Dumas

Safety Deposit

Joseph Adams carefully lay down the package he had been carrying for the past twenty blocks onto the old kitchen table that had come down to him from countless generations through just as many countries and continents. Joseph let out a long, tired sigh. It was small, but it was heavy.

Joseph leaned back slowly and felt his back creak and crack loudly. Some tight muscle in the depths of his broad back relaxed. Part of him really wanted to forget about the entire business, but he had promised his mother and he wasn't going to go back on it now. You just don't go back on promises made to the dying, especially if it was your mother.

With another heavy sigh, Joseph pulled out a chair and slid his broad frame into it. He pulled the package wrapped in simple brown paper that had come from his mother's private box at the bank to him. Light brown twine had the paper tied onto the item it was hiding. Had his mother tied the paper so tightly? It was carefully done. The twine was equidistant in spaces and the knots were well-practiced butcher's knots. Emily Adams had worked at his father's side in the butcher shop for years.

"Don't leave him in that box, Joey," his mother had whispered. "Take him home. It's time for him to go home. Tell him I'm sorry."

There was a part of Joseph that didn't want to open the package. There was a part of him that was certain he should have left it in the safety deposit box. There was also this little nagging voice in the back of his head telling him he could take it back and not open it, forget it even existed and when he was an old old man he could go back and open it and he still wouldn't be lying to his mom.

"But that isn't what you promised her," Joseph muttered out loud into the still apartment.

Reservedly Joseph reached over to the counter (the kitchen wasn't that large, just ordered and organized) and retrieved a knife. Joseph cut each piece of twine without truly trying to think. Next came the brown paper. It was wrapped around the thing four times and tucked down onto the top and bottom. When it was exposed, Joseph took in a sharp breath through his teeth.

The red stone was just as he remembered. It held the figure of a young man in his late teens. His hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and his face was a mask of anger, hurt and defiance. The kilt he wore looked as if it was blowing in a gale, exposing some thigh, but not too much.

Joseph took the stone and placed it in the center of the doorway of the kitchen, knelt and kissed the top of its head.

A glow of brilliant yellow, like sunshine cascaded down over the statue and then back up again. Little by little it grew until a full grown fellow of rippling muscles, bracers, and a sword was almost wedged into the doorway. Slowly he moved. He relaxed and then, carefully stood. He spoke in the Old Tongue and was asking where Elvera was. Joseph felt his throat tighten. How was he going to tell Olf their mother was dead?

Joseph reached into his pocket and tossed a small stone to Olf, who caught it remarkably quickly despite having been exiled for almost a thousand years in stone.

"Where is Elvera-mother? Why isn't she here?" Olf turned and looked about him, then turned slowly, taking in the wonders. "What year is it?"

"Mother is dead. She died two days ago. It is October 31st, 2006."

"Two thousand and six?" Joseph nodded.

"Do we yet rule?" Joseph shook his head slowly. "Then why have I been released?"

"Because Mother wanted you to come home and begin the line again."

"She wishes me to conquer?" Joseph nodded. Elvera hadn't really said that of course, but that is what she would want. It was time for the Old Ways and the Old Ones to return. The Twenty-first Century was quite boring with its unending wars and its pauses into almost peace without truly attaining it. Joseph felt it was time for Olf to have his chance at bringing back the Old Ways.

Olf laughed then, long and loud. Joseph hadn't heard a laugh like that for centuries.

"Let Ragnarok begin!" Olf laughed. "Let it begin!"

"How?" Joseph asked softly.

"Don't you know, brother?" Joseph shook his head. "We kill Odin and then we go through each tribe and kill their leader, and then all fight and all die, except for those who do not die." Olf flashed his brilliant smile. "It is time the Isles return to their rightful place. Where is Arthur?"

Joseph slipped passed Olf carefully and walked to the other bedroom. He pushed open the door. Arthur had truly fallen from his greatness. There he lay with a whiskey bottle in his hand and a nudy magazine spread open on his chest. Instead of the sleek warrior there was now a pot belly and several months of beard growth upon his face.

"The might Arthur has indeed fallen," Olf said, suddenly beside him. Olf jumped, still very much the warrior, and landed squarely upon the snoring Arthur. He pommeled Arthur playfully, if somewhat roughly until he awoke. Odd how alliances were made and broken and reformed. It was even more odd how things worked out for themselves without too much interference from Mrrlyn. How would Mrrlyn react to all of this, Joseph suddenly wondered.

"Lancelot! Let's go get some food!" Olf rolled from Arthur who was laughing loudly and so hard his belly was jiggling. How long it had been since Joseph had heard himself called by that name.

"Alright, Mordred, let's go, but not like that. People don't dress like that any more, unless for special events."

News of Vitas

According to the website, fans are being asked to request his music through MTV, Music Box, and other places. For myself, I am going to do just that. To check out his music go to his site http://vitas.com.ru/klip_eng.htm and check out the videos there. This is one time when I really wish I could read Russian!

The Sun Shines Brightly...

Sitting inside the library looking out at the bright sunshine and typing an entry for here makes me smile deep down inside even if I am not so much smiling on the outside.

Have finally arranged for rides to the library for three days a week. In that span of time I should be able to update quite a bit if everything goes well. And, honestly, I am working very hard at making everything go well.

Still, to say I "miss" the internet connection at my house is something that is beyond unbelievable and truly unexpressable to me. This is one of my greatest avenues of information and, yes, I miss it. I hurt for it almost, like a long lost lover's touch. I miss it as much...almost as much, as if I had run out of ink (which isn't going to happen for quite some time because of the bottles I currently have). Running out of ink would be horribly bad. Just as painful as if I had run out of paper.

But there sun is out today. It is shining right out that window about 100 feet away from me and it is wonderful. It is warm. It is that perfect autumn day you hear it sung about, read about...right out there. So what am I going to do? I am going to take my pen and notebooks and secure myself a lovely table by one of those windows and I am going to write. I am going to write without fear and without care, and I am going to enjoy the sunshine with as much glee as a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush!

Tomorrow I will be back with stories and poetry. Tomorrow there will be more to post beside just thoughts and ramblings of a sad, stressed out woman.

I Live

'Tis your Editor here. Can you believe it?! I am finally on-line, albeit at the local downtown library, but, seriously, you can't keep a good Editor and writer down for any length of time.

Quick bits o news:

I have the next installment of "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" and cannot use the local CPU to put it into the system or I would do so this very moment! It is good, my friends and readers, beyond good! If all else fails I will send my beloved disk with such wonderful info upon it to work with Hubby and have Hubby email to Cheyenne who can then post it for your apt reading amusement. One of the really interesting things about the story is that I am currently unable to figure out the end or even the bad guy yet, and I am doing the editing! M. Davenport makes sure to send only the most necessary of sections which makes me (yes, we know) chomp at the bit because I want to know what happens! Now!

My own writing progresses. I am going to be using the time spent here at the library past the internet hour (blast that little ticking clock that keeps counting down on me from above the screen!) and do even more writing. The plan is still working. One day I write on Project A and the next day I write on Project B. Repeat. Saturday is a free writing day meaning I write on whatever pops into my head if I have time and Sunday, well, Sunday just isn't a writing day.

Since I have a ride to town tomorrow, I shall update more!

Miss you muchly!
Me

Of Editors and Wrestling

Cheyenne here.

The Editor is still unplugged, as it were. To confound matters slightly, she had a nasty reaction to something she ate over the weekend, and spent much of yesterday sleeping or exceptionally groggy. She is, however, in fine spirits today – well, as fine as she can be while still unplugged, of course.

Along with the Internet service, they have also lost their cable TV. Which doesn't bother her a great deal, although there is one thing she misses very much – namely her wrestling. She is, as she has stated herself, a 'wrasslin' geek,' which is very much true.

I am not. I can appreciate the level of athletic ability on display, but the entire wrestling mileau, with the good guys and the bad guys and the side switching and the sensationalism and the hoopla never really caught my attention. I've seen it describes as a modern mythology, similar to the tales told in ancient Greece about Hercules and the Argonauts, and I can see that. At the same time, I can imagine there were one or two skeptics listening to tales about the labors of Hercules and saying things like, “Rigged, the lot of them. That lion was doubtless no larger than a small dog or a large rat, and the stables probably had been built in a lowland and the river flooded. One big fake.”

I don't think wrestling is fake, per se. Scripted, yes, much of the time, at least, but I will never call it fake – I mean, you can fake the hits all you want, but no matter how you control it, you're still dropping onto a hard surface supported by tractor springs (I believe) when you get body slammed.

So I don't follow wrestling, but The Editor loves it – she has her favorites, and her least favorites, and if you were to call on a night to talk to her while she's watching her wrestling, chances are she'll only be kind of listening to you. But we all get like that – I get like that watching anything to do with Spider-Man – so we can forgive her that. She's a fan, and fans of something get caught up in it, whether it's a particular TV show, a movie, a sports team, a painter, a book, a car race, looking for a particular bird – or wrestling. It's what makes us fans – the willingness to get swept up in something grand and magnificent and entertaining for a little while. Because sometimes, that little diversion is what we need to help us make sense of the rest of our life.

I helped her with her diversion a little today, by looking up the results of last night's matches and reading them to her earlier on. I imagine I'll do that again before she gets her cable TV back. I don't mind so much, really. That's what friends do, after all – and fans, for that matter.

I Am Dis-Connected.

I am dictating this to Cheyenne, who is typing it for you.

Internet service is spotchie. Forget splotty, forget spotty, it’s spotchie. However things are slowly in the works to righting themselves, so you will have the next installment of “The Sleepy Hollow Inn” relatively soon.

On the creative front, since there is a lack of Internet, though it vexes my soul sorely, it’s proving to be a good thing. Story A has at least 4 pages written on it, which is very good. I just wish I could type them, but I want to finish this chapter before I do that. Story B will be worked on today.

Since there are so many stories at the current point, I take one day for one story and another day for another story. It’s amazing how well this works out.

So, there will be updates. There will be stories. Just no specific day for anything – it’ll be catch as catch can. But, hopefully, the next thing that comes up will be the next part of “The Sleepy Hollow Inn.” No promises, but I will try. I will try my darndest.

-- The Editor

Cute as can be!

This made me laugh. I probably should go surfing on YouTube, but sometimes it is most fun. And, as soon as I get things organized a little more, all you'll have to do is click a play button!

An Interesting Twist of a Recipe

Let me know what you think.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-Vw8uQP3UE

I have fallen...

His name is Vitas and he is Russian. He does all of this himself. Yeah, I like.

The Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part IV

The Sleepy Hollow Inn
By M. Davenport

I sat beside her for perhaps almost a minute in our cooperative silence before my curiosity wrung the question that was burning on my mind, "May I ask why you asked me something so...metaphysical?"

I did not want to be rude, yet, at the same time, I was most curious. Of course I could have invaded her mind, but what fun would that have been? That always seemed to me like skipping to the back of a book to see what happens. It was cheating. Bad form, as my father would say.

"Sometimes I feel this...presence...very close to me. It is neither god nor devil, but a mixture of both, or none. It feels very close to me tonight. It has felt close to me since we arrived here." I watched as Veronica's gave swept out into the darkness to search for the presence she sensed. "I think I am going to turn in early tonight. My heart feels very heavy and sad," she said, smiling a sweet, apologetic smile.

"Would you like for me to get Mr. James for you?" I had to stop myself from saying fetch him as we used to do. Veronica smiled very kindly at me and shook her head.

"Thank you," she said, and vanished inside, leaving me alone on the front porch swing. It had been quite some time since I had run into a human so out of Time. It made me sad. She was so young and so beautiful, but this was not her Time.

Vampires are always bringing up references to time, I've noticed. The past is always present with us, just as much as the present. Many become historians because of it, or actors. Yes, it is a cover, but it goes much deeper than that. We keep the good parts of ourselves alive that way. If we're lucky we don't become the monsters of legend by remembering the good about our past life, or lives. Unlike humans, we are continually forced to reinvent ourselves.

I wish I could tell you the continuous reinvention was a good thing, but it isn't on a whole, not for us. Just when you are content with the person you have created, you have to change, give it all away so people don't discover your secret. It is difficult to keep going, keep changing and coming up with different people to become every fifty or sixty years or so. If you let yourself remain one person for longer, humans become suspicious. Humans age. Vampires don't.

The watch in my vest pocket chimed at the fifteen minutes of ten. Its sound startled me from my own deep, ponderous thoughts. While Veronica had been outside Time had seeming stopped.

Something tickled down my spine. I didn't enjoy it.

There was a taste of malice in the air. It was bold. New. Hungry.

Perhaps it was just a cat I was picking up, or a hungry dog? I knew it wasn't vampire or werewolf (yes, they really do exist). My body reacted to it calling forth the fangs and claws which rarely came out.

Was it something Veronica had, perhaps, brought with her? Edward perhaps?

I let my mind roll out toward it. It was intangibly tangible. Just as I almost touched its full mind, it vanished.

I Am SO Doomed

It feels like it - I am doomed. I am doomed to have wonderful ideas and start writing upon them and within two weeks I am sick. I don't mean a wee bit of ill that you can use as an excuse to keep from going into work for a day or from doing the dishes or cooking for a day. No. I get sick where I am laying in the bed and wondering quite seriously if I am going to make it out of bed EVER again. (Yes, the caps are quite necessary.)

Yesterday there was deep hope in this heart of mine that The Sickness had vanished, or was soon close to being so, and then, all of a sudden, today, The Sickness has turned into something that needs a different name. A name that makes you cringe at the thought of having it like "the black death" or "the plague" or something from the Medieval era where you aren't assured you are going to survive.

Verbose? Hyperbole? Too much? Over exaggeration? *sigh*

Maybe.

Tomorrow I am hoping things will be better, and, in turn, I will be better and life can proceed on a far more pleasant note.

-- The Editor

Maybe I'm Just Being Morbid, But This Interested Me and I Thought I Would Share

(You know how I get sometimes in September.)

Archaeologists find 2,500-year-old mummy in Mongolia, tattoos and all...from PhysOrg.com
An international group of archaeologists has unearthed a well-preserved, 2,500-year-old mummy frozen in the snowcapped mountains of Mongolia complete with blond hair, tattoos and a felt hat.
[...]

Poetry

XLVI

A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.

-- Emily Dickinson

Thinking about my friend

Hi all. Cheyenne here again.

The Editor asked me to make a post for today, since she has been laid up and a bit sick for the last little bit. She's over it now, aside from a sore throat, but she won't be at the house much today. So, you get me instead.

Which I know is a thrilling prospect for you.

The other day, while we were talking a bit, we hit upon one reason why we get along so well, a facet of our friendship that neither of us had ever considered before. Beyond being each other's shoulder to cry on, beyond being contemporaries, beyond being fellow Orthodox Christians, beyond considering ourselves siblings, we are writing buddies – and while that is something that could probably be argued that we should have already known, it only just dawned on us the other day.

As statements go it is exceedingly true. We talk about stories and poems we've written or that we are thinking about, we read pieces to each other, and we provide honest commentary on what we hear or read, beyond the simple 'like it / don't like it' reactions. We talk on occasion about writing itself, and we share thoughts that we find about writing made by other authors and writers on the Internet. We suggest books to read and music to write by, we shore up each other's confidence, and we point out things we are doing wrong.

Some of this we kind of take for granted in a way. When we write a new story or a particularly good poem – or one that we aren't sure works – we can just assume that the other will listen and comment on it. It's something of a given. I give her stories a quick editorial read, looking for odd word choices, weird spelling, strange grammar, and any sort of point in the overall plot that I think I could fit a decent sized truck through – and she does the same for me. We both bring different things to the picnic – The Editor, for instance, has more practice looking at things from a literature student's perspective than I do, and she can analyze and divine meaning better than I can (for now, at least) – but that's the beauty of the whole thing. We're two distinct people, of two distinct minds, with two distinct wells of experience to draw upon when we write and when we read, but somehow, when it comes right down to it – we're both on the same wavelength when it comes to words and writing.

And like good buddies of any stripe, we have a friendly competition or two going. So far, she has more raw submission attempts than I do, but I have more published work than she does. Who's winning?

I say we both are.

No, You Have NOT Been Forgotten!

Things have just been C-R-A-Z-Y of late so nothing has been on schedule here, or elsewhere in my life. Luckily, it is looking as if things are going to be far more on track than they otherwise would have because my dear hubby has secured a wonderful new job! I am so excited with and for him! He deserves this and I know he is going to do a wonderful job!

"The Sleepy Hollow Inn" should be up on Monday, at the very latest. I have been swamped with emails about it, and I must admit I can't wait to get the next two installments up myself!

OK, back to the hecticness of life.

Preparing for Mayhem

The Rifts game is tonight and, I must admit, I am a little stoked. I have had two weeks to plot and plan for tonight's campaign, and I have planned well. My GM Mentor has given two thumbs up and a gree light!

Poetry

Beyond
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

Life moves forward
Snails pace
Rockets force
Always pushing forward
Sometimes ghosts hold us back
Yet through it all we keep moving
Not here, never here
Never one place for a while
Always
Beyond

Diary Dear

Things are up in the air and falling all around like brittle fall leaves piled high and then letting a four year old have at it. Don't know how long it is going to take me...us...to get the leaves piled up again and back in order, but we'll do it.

This has been very much a quiet weekend compared to a hectic and very confusing week. What all has happened?

-- We over-drafted at the bank. This is quite easy to do when you have a husband who simply refuses to stub a check or report his spending, and you still have to pay bills and buy groceries and keep life going.
-- Became full-fledged volunteers for the local chapter of the Arthritis Foundation. This is something I have really wanted to do for a very long time. Now I just need to finish my first project, which is going to be somewhat difficult in a way because I am going to have to go to the library almost every day for use of a computer and internet service. But this will let me get the current Writing Project back on track.
-- Hubby sprained his ankle and is being extremely macho about it. Not much to explain there.
-- Internet service going to be almost impossible for a while because of financial difficulties. This does NOT make me happy, but there is little else I can do about it. However, I am bound and determined to keep the installments for "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" up and everything else. This may require some assistance from Cheyenne though.

All in all I am settling in for the next section of fighting to just keep having a life. Do you know what this means? Life moves on and you just have to roll with it.

Time to Duck and Cover

Financial troubles are hitting. Internet connectivity is going to be spotty for a while. More as Internet service permits.

Tidbits

It seems Thursdays are turning into "Tidbit Thursdays" with everything that is beginning to happen these days, there is a lot to keep everyone in the local area and otherwise informed of things; Thursdays are sometimes just an extra day to read the story usually posted on Wednesdays. Either way, things are really beginning to jump here and it feels good, even though I sometimes get a little nervous about it all. See for yourselves: ...

Fiction - Sleepy Hollow Inn
Yes, the installment is almost ready to go. M. Davenport required some time to re-work a section because Davenport, not I, were dissatisfied with. It feels wonderful to work with someone so professional. We both seem to be learning a great deal from each other. You will have the next installment of "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" tomorrow, barring anything bad happening or my arthritis acting up horribly as it has been acting up of late.

The Lexington Chapter of the Arthritis Foundation
I am now working with the local chapter of the Arthritis Foundation. Lexington's chapter has only been around for two years. Now hubby and I have volunteered for whatever and anything we can do. It feels good, and I wrote about it in my LJ, which I will probably cross-post here. It is important to keep taking the fight to the disease and keep researchers funded to help end this thing.

It feels strange, Dear Readers, to tell you the truth. I've been fighting this disease since I was 2 1/2 officially, and now, well, now I'm 45. That's all of my life really. I've fought it on a personal basis, here in my body, and now am fighting it in extra ways which has helped to give me the new breath, the new wind I've needed for quite a long time to keep fighting it.

Looking for Arthritics
It doesn't matter what type of arthritis you have. It can be osteoarthritis to gout to rheumatoid to many of the other forms out there. As soon as I can I will provide a list of the types. Don't want to forget or leave out anyone with this stuff. Even fibromialgia is considered part of the arthritic core!

I know there are more arthritics here in Lexington. If you want a friendly face, voice or person you almost know to contact, feel free to reach me at hahwriter@yahoo.com so you can get involved too. Being a part of a unified front does make a difference in how you feel. I can attest to that first hand. The more we are together, the more we can stand stronger, and besides, Wouldn't it be really super just to have a place where people understood where you are coming from? I know I really feel less stressed than I have for quite a while. There IS something you can do. We'll figure something out for you to do, on the good days, through the bad days and any other day in-between.

Even if you don't want to be involved deeply, there are support meetings here in Lexington. The next one is going to be on September 11th. Come and join us there because we know what you're going through which helps to let you know you are not alone.

Bull Riding in Lexington, KY Area
The Arthritis Foundation, Lexington Chapter, is having a bull riding! Can you believe it? It even has the approval of PBR (Professional Bull Riders) and it is said that a lot of the riders who will be appearing in Las Vegas for the finals and championships will also be appearing in the local event. It is being held in Harrodsburg at the Harrodsburg Fair Grounds. I will provide more information as it is discovered.

St. Andrew's Heritage Festival
St. Andrew Antiochian Orthodox Church is having its annual heritage festival. It will be September 30th thru October 1st. There will be traditional foods from Mediterranean to Serbian and Russian. Traditional sweets from all over, and entertainment! Want tickets? Contact me at hahwriter@yahoo.com and I'll hook you up with some!

A Quick Note

"The Sleepy Hollow Inn" by M. Davenport is here, but, unfortunately I don't have enough time, at present to post it because there is a small bit of editing that needs to be done per M. Davenport's request. So, it will appear later today.

My Take on the Three Bean Soup

There are a lot of recipes out there for Three Bean Soup and some of them are really good, but not one of them hit my palette the way this one did of my own creation, combining several recipes I already had.

2 cans black beans
2 cans pinto beans
1 can white/navy beans
Onion
Garlic
Salt & Pepper to taste
Cumin
Chili powder
Noodles
1/3 cup of water
Corn starch
Warm water

In a nice cooking pot, soup pot, put 1 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil in the bottom of the pan. Put pan on medium heat. Chop up 1/2 to a 1/4 of an onion depending on size and drop into the heating pan. Chop 1-2 cloves of garlic, depending on how much you like the taste of garlic. Cook until tender. Add the beans, including as much of the liquid as you would like and 1/3 cup of water. Raise the heat to medium high. As the beans begin to heat, salt and pepper them and if you think there isn't enough liquid, just add some more, but only in small increments because if you have too much it is very difficult to get the water cooked out of them.

As the beans begin to bubble add cumin to taste and chili powder. The cumin I begin adding in about 1/4 teaspoon increments until I get the flavor I want; and adding the chili powder in about the same amounts. I have never reached a Tablespoon yet of either I don't believe. Stir through thoroughly.

Open your favorite box of noodles and put them in, letting them cook directly in the beans. If the soup is not thick enough for you put 1/2 tsp. corn starch in some warm water, whisk it through good and pour this into the soup. If you don't put it in some warm water first you have a big chance of having some lumps in your soup.

Cooking time, about 30 minutes total. Makes 4-6 servings.

For more recipes check out The Ox and Hare Inn.

Yes, there should be poetry here...but...

My dear hubby has been under the weather this weekend, so no poetry for today, but it will make an appearance soon, you just can never tell when.

-- The Editor

I live?

Sitting very quietly today. Have had a migraine for two and a half days. It feels good to be able to sit up and not feel as if my head is going to roll off my shoulders and on to the floor and used as a ball by my dogs.

The Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part III

The Sleepy Hollow Inn
By M. Davenport



There are some things I do in my day-to-day living that would amuse or horrify the die hard Dracula worshippers. I enjoy "New Age" music a great deal, for example. It is the modern equivalent of what is known now as classical music, although classicists shudder at such a thought. (I am sure it is there somewhere inside and they are fighting it tooth and nail to keep from admitting it.) Kitaro is my favorite modern composer. For some vampire enthusiasts they create the image of a vampire rising at sunset with Bach playing in the background before they go out into the night accompanied by techno rhythms and blood. These people frighten me.

I enjoy movies and television as well as true theater. Again, there are some who argue that if vampires really did exist they would prefer their known form of entertainment, i.e. plays and classical music. It is not the vampire who is stuck in time (although there are a few who change slowly), but the people who want to keep a certain time alive in their imaginations I believe.

My views upon the Internet are much the same as anyone else's: I adore it! There is so much information there at your fingertips! And to be able to communicate with someone in Japan in real time and not have to wait months for a written reply by ship simply boggles my mind a little, even now. It is a wonderful, mind-expanding tool. As with everything else, it can be abused and I have known several, vampire and human alike, who have become addicted to it. This addiction saddens me whereas many other addictions do not because this addiction lets people avoid living life instead of attempting it. They hide behind a computer screen and have their relationships never knowing truly if the other person is indeed what they say they are, or even who. It is a cocoon they create for themselves and dare not let themselves change into something, someone grander.

All of this ran through my head as I did a quick search of my guest's writing endeavors.

Veronica James was not in the running for a Pulitzer, nor was she considered an up-and-coming Stephen King. She was, however, considered to be quite prolific and had managed a novel each year for the past five years and had even won several prestigious writing awards, as well as a Hugo for her latest science fiction piece. Veronica James had been compared to Isaac Asimov and Gene Roddenberry for the modern times. Her latest work was a book of poetry which was really quite good from what I read in excerpt. I love poetry but find a lot of modern poetry to be lacking in content and filled with foul language which is a feeble attempt to shock you into not noticing there isn't an image present throughout. This was different and I ordered myself a copy through Amazon.

So armed with this information, I went in search of Mrs. Veronica James in order to greet her properly. She would receive the celebrity treatment of one Jonas nickels. That being me.

Veronica James was outside in the nippy September air. She had on dark rimmed glasses and held herself quite regal and poised on the porch swing. The notebook I had seen earlier was lying in her lap while she tapped the end of her pen on her lower lip. Her eyes were looking far away. Was she seeing a new world or just re-creating this one? How often, I wondered, did she re-create Edward James?

I started to go back inside when she heaved such a heavy sigh my heart, if I had one, went out to her. It was filled with thousands of words that had no meaning, or perhaps too much.

"Am I disturbing your ruminations?" I inquired with a slight bow. Women still like that despite Women's Liberation.

"No, please, come and sit by me." Veronica James' voice was soft and accented slightly with an almost Southern hue.

I took my place beside her on the freshly painted porch swing. It creaked slightly with my added weight as porch swings often do in complaint. This was a sound that never changed through the centuries. As long as there were porch swings, there would be that sound, and, for a brief moment, I was tempted to recall my own childhood and the long flowing skirts of my mother. It was difficult not to wander into my own past, but I managed and wa glad. Some memories should be relished like good expensive chocolate or a lover's impassioned kisses.

"Are you hard at work on a new adventure?"

"No," she said, "just collecting notes for a possible one." I smiled and she smiled back. She was really quite a beautiful creature with long flowing hair and gentle eyes that always held a hint of sadness in them. How had Edward James landed her? This was one of Life's great mysteries I was sure and hoped my curiosity would not ask the one question of how they had met and gotten together. Luckily I was saved by a question she asked me.

"Tell me, Mr. nickels, do you believe in God and the Devil?" Mrs. Veronica James turned and faced me then. It was plain upon looking in her eyes that this wasn't a writer's ploy, but a genuine question, and one she hoped I would answer. But, what I wanted to know was, why?

"Yes, yes I do." How could I not being what I am! "I don't believe the Devil is in red pajamas with horns and a tail, but I am pretty sure he exists."

"And God?"

"Again, I believe He exists. And I don't think He is an old god out of touch with time and humanity. He is waiting, I think, giving people, as a whole, time to grow up. But people are regressing instead of moving forward spiritually," I said.

"So, you believe miracles still happen?" I nodded. "I do too," she said, and relaxed visibly.

Writing Related

Writer's Digest is having a short story contest. Just follow the link for all of the necessary information to it.

Elizabeth Bear, a prolific writer of modern fiction, including science fiction, has a wonderful LiveJournal you should check out. She talks about writing and the art of writing. I find her most amusing. Check her out at matociquala at LiveJournal. Her main website is at Elizabeth Bear.com.

And also at LiveJournal alg is an editor at Tor Books and gives some good advice on submitting works and writing pieces to her as well as elsewhere. She also has Anna's Red Pen where she talks more about writing, but usually her LJ is the place to be. It is more real and you can also see an editor as a real person, not someone in a tower far away with a pen filled with never-ending red ink.

I have been sitting here in my house going over all of the things I need to do. The list is relatively short and goes something like this:

(1) Kitchen - Dishes, clean off table, get garbage out, org for more room

(2) Writing - Go over #29, find places to sub, work on Trai, LJ, Blog

(3) Me - call doc, yoga, prayers, Bible reading, work on game, decide on lib day.

(4) Other - fix a good supper, hubby to class

Not a bad list really. It just happens that today my arthritis is acting up which means a good lot of stuff isn't going to get done, at least not as I would like for it to. Still, some things on my list have been marked off and later, perhaps, I can get even more of it off so I can look back and say I did something good today, other than writing. Of course, writing will usually be close to the top of the list.

Monday Poetry

#29
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (c) 2006 by H.A. Handy

The desert surrounds
Filled with lush green things growing
People moving about their lives
Continuing on.

The desert surrounds
Voices raised in greetings
Smiles upon strangers' faces
Time advancing and retreating on tides.

The desert surrounds
Alone amid the bustle
Satisfied with something most
Dare not understand.

The desert surrounds
I see the way out
The path lined with daisies
Golden bricks upon the ground.

The desert surrounds
A table amid the gluttony
Strewn with papers, pens, and inks -
An oasis in the very center of insanity.

Mary of Chocolate

Mary of Chocolate,
originally uploaded by hahwriter.

I find this wonderful and oddly frightening. I can see the Virgin in this. Do I believe it is a miracle? It may be this woman's miracle because she needed something to help her get through something very difficult. The Divine does give us little reminders we are not alone when we really need them, and I believe this one may jave just been for this woman. If this is the case, I am thoroughly glad she has this sign to help her get through....

Sometimes I truly believe the Divine, God, works in quiet ways just so we will have to slow down and look at things a little more in order to take stock of a lot of great, miraculous things He is doing for us, and with us.

As long as the chocolate image itself is not worshipped I see nothing wrong with this. I believe it is a good thing all in all.

Diary Dear

Today is Saturday, and, like most Saturdays, there were plans made for today. Good plans involving friends and an out-of-doors-fair and goggling wonderful pretty shinies. Alas, it was not to be. Rain came. And thunder. And lightning creased the sky here and there with brightness. It looked so far away and was just so calm in its power I found myself unafraid and just watching it. Watching it flash and dart. I let myself go into the roll of the thunder and felt...lighter, as if it was washing away much of the sorrows that have been fighting to accumulate somewhere inside of me while Life and friends and Love itself was struggling to keep the sorrows at bay. I believe the Life, Love and Friends won to be honest in retrospect.

Now the sun is shining outside my window. It dances on the grass and bamboo of the back yard and causes me to smile. I smile because, well, the rain has ended and we have survived it, even though Winter is nearing with each passing day. It is so easy to forget Winter even exists when the sun is so bright and warm upon your skin. Without Winter would those of us who adore Summer adore it so much?

There are still a number of good warm days to love and adore yet. The rainy days will also increase, but maybe, just maybe this year the Bleak will not over-whelm me and my household. Maybe there will be good things to think and admire and the bleak, cold days that are to come will turn into something different. Something happier. Something good.

JonBenet Ramsey Suspect Finally Arrested

JonBenet Ramsey, the little six year old beauty queen who was found murdered in her parents' home may finally get to rest in peace, because someone has finally been arrested in the case. He wrote letters to JonBenet's mother telling her how sorry he was for what happened. Yes, I know there is going to be a book out of this sad story, and I am going to read it. From what I have been able to glean from the Internet, he was a teacher in other countries and has confessed to killing the little girl. He was hiding in Thailand and is currently being extradite back to the United States. Will he make it to the court room? I hope so. I really do. There is still a large part of me that wonders if her parents still may have had something to do with it all. Did they know? And why did the man write Patsy Ramsey letters? Yes, this is complicated.

Celebrations Continue

Sorry Dear Readers, but currently have company. I promise I will bust the buttocks I possess to get everything caught up so you can read the next installment of "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" story.

Recipes and goodness

Yesterday was my birthday, sorry there wasn't a poem.

Today is post-birthday, so, due to the headache and still almost-full stomach no recipe.

Tomorrow, things will be back to normal I hope.

Saving Fish

My husband has a large 55 gallon fresh-water fish tank. He has about eight koi of various types and all of them are different. Earlier one of them became ill and it was my job to sit with a bowl of treated water while my husband ran to the store to pick up a few things he needed for the tank. Along with holding the fish I had to make sure and keep prodding the fish (gently I assure you) so it would keep breathing and not die.

All of our fish have names and this one's name is Dart because he is one of the ones who go running around the tank at high rates of speed and then, usually, will jump his head out of the water or rise up like a dolphin and make as big a splash as possible. Dart is about six inches long now and he is a nice looking fish. I didn't mind baby-sitting him.

Now my husband is finishing up cleaning the tank just to make sure that none of the other fish get sick. As for Dart, well his condition is still undetermined at this time. He is still alive. He is swimming on his own. But he seems to be blind or unable to see very well.

Dart is one of the larger fish my husband has, but, to be honest, he is one of my favorites. I have three of them - Dart, DirtyNose, and JJ. They actually seem to have personalities. Maybe I am just projecting personalities on to them, but they are some of the larger fish we have had for a while and since I am the one home most of the time I get to benefit from watching them more than my husband gets to.

Sometimes, when I'm really stuck on a story, really in pain, or sometimes just have the blahs, I go sit quietly in the living room and watch the fish. Sometimes, a lot of the time, I will mute the TV just to have the quiet and the sound of the water splashing in the tank. And I sit there and watch the fish. Usually the dogs will come close and lay beside me. It makes for a pretty content scene and setting.

I have never worked hard to save a fish before. It has made me feel quite good. I really hope Dart makes it. I really do.

Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part 2

Sleepy Hollow Inn
By M. Davenport

Part II

Veronica and Ed James contacted Mickey six months prior to their visit. As I said, we were booked for months in advance. It was mid September when they arrived. The weather was not quite so hot as it had been in the summer, and the nights were growing cooler than they had previously been. The visit was a treat for Veronica who was quite a lovely, though somewhat sad creature. Ed made it plain the evening I met them that he was indulging Veronica’s romantic side. Mickey informed me later he had done the same thing upon their arrival.

It wasn’t the couple’s wedding anniversary or one of their birthdays. It was just a treat. A treat for Veronica.

“She has always wanted to spend a couple of days in an old house like this,” Ed James informed me that first evening. He was a big man, square shouldered and barrel chested. Construction was his business and he was quite proud of the firm he ran. Although this Mr. Edward James wasn’t the one who had made it into a multi-national, multi-million dollar company. His father, Martin James had taken over from his father and went global. Ed James could not stop talking about the business prowess of his father.

“Dad saw the world as one big resource, as yet untapped at the time. He started making bids, and winning them, in Canada and Mexico first, and branched out from there. I brought in the computers and business boomed.” Ed James was such a modest fellow. He was the total contraposition to his wife.

Veronica James was a busty, petite red head with natural curls that fell down her back to bounce along as she walked. The eyes that looked out at the world were in intelligent hazel. She was quiet whereas her husband didn’t understand he could even be silent. Veronica moved quietly about the house that evening with a jade green book in hand and a thoughtful look on her face.

“She fancies herself a writer,” Ed said as she passed us to go outside to roam the sparse grounds. She had on a tattered brown sweater. “She’s had a few things published. Mostly in women’s magazines. And she won some writing thing. I don’t know what it was called, even though I went to the awards dinner. Some romantic thing,” he added with a heart-less laugh and snort. “It is seven o’clock. Mind if I make myself a drink?” I really didn’t believe it would have mattered if I had approved or disapproved because he had already reached the bar and when he was informed he could not “make his drink” but that Mickey would be happy to serve him, he ordered a Jack-and-coke.

Mickey smiled at Ed and went about making the requested drink. It was quite obvious to anyone who would take the time to notice that my dear Mickey found half of our current guests (we only had one couple) to be almost repulsive. Mickey had interesting senses about people in general. They were almost ferral in their depths, and quite accurate usually.

I had not seen anyone get under Mickey’s skin so deeply so quickly. It had been quite a while since I had seen disgust in Mickey about any of our guests.

With the husband safely tucked away at the bar, I decided it would be a good opportunity to speak with the wife, but not before doing a little research. Mr. James obviously knew very little about what Mrs. James did and cared little for her writing. I thought it prudent to see what she had had published. It would be a shame to be entertaining a potential Pulitzer Prize recipient or the up-and-coming new Stephen King and be totally ignorant of it.

I am sorry all for the delay in getting this out to you today, but Hubby has been playing on the computer ALL day and am just now able to post this for your reading enjoyment.