Of Busy Schedules and Forgetting by Konnie Enos

 

I'm so sorry, but my schedule this week was so packed I did not have time to write my post before now. I also completely forgot to mention to Bonnie that I wasn't going to be able to get my post up. This resulted in neither of us writing a post and when we realized it both of us were running late to get out the door. This meant neither of us had time to post anything. 

Now that it is late in the day, I've finally cleared my schedule, for a few minutes so I thought I'd let our loyal readers know we have not forgotten about our regular blog post, life just got in the way.

To give you something cute to look at I've again used the picture of my son's puppy who sadly, and without warning, passed away this last week. He will be missed (well at least by those of us not annoyed by his puppy exuberance).

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Panic and Writing by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Do you want to hear a panic-inducing story?

I have a sister-in-law who lives across town from me. Said sister-in-law, Shirley, has major health issues, sometimes has seizures, and has been known to fall out of bed or just plain fall down, injuring herself.

As I am geographically her closest family who can drive, I am her emergency contact.

Cue Tuesday morning the day after Memorial Day:

I was getting ready for work when my phone rings. It’s Shirley’s caregiver because she isn’t answering her door buzzer or phone. “Is she with you?”

The young lady had been informed by her boss that Shirley was going camping with her sister over the holiday weekend.

Let me point out, SISTER not sister-in-law.

Yes, I live the closest. Yes, I help her all I can. And yes, I am her emergency contact, but I am not her sister, even if she says I am.

My husband had three sisters. Shirley is the youngest, but they are all still alive, and the oldest and her husband did take Shirley camping over the weekend.

And the last I spoke to Shirley on Monday evening, they were on the road, heading here to Pocatello.

I tried calling Shirley. It went straight to voicemail. (Which honestly should have been a clue. When Shirley is just not answering, it rings a few times.)

I tried calling her big sister, Vera-Ellen. It also went straight to voicemail, but now I’m in such a panic it doesn’t dawn on me they could still be together and in the same place. It just didn’t occur to me. I didn’t even consider it at that time.

No, in my panic I called my boss and told her I have a small family emergency and I may be a little late for work, then I hightail it across town and let myself into Shirley’s apartment, worried sick that I might have to call the ambulance.

She wasn’t even there!

I finally call the oldest of Tom’s younger brothers, Cliff, who was also with Vera-Ellen, her husband, and Shirley at Bear Lake over the weekend.

He knew that Vera-Ellen and her husband were planning to go to Scout Mountain Monday night.

Great. There is no service at Scout Mountain.

DUH! Their phones are going straight to voicemail. Cliff hadn’t heard that Shirley was going with them to Scout Mountain, but they were last known to be together.

Adding all that together means Shirley is at Scout Mountain, and I might just wring some necks when I get ahold of them.

Shirley finally called me just after five p.m. yesterday.

Yeah, she’s fine. Just after my last phone conversation with Shirley, Vera-Ellen and Dave decided they didn’t have time to take Shirley home and get up that mountain before dark, so they dragged her along with them! Without letting anyone know!

I mean, Shirley tried, but again, no phone service up there.

Had Shirley called me back right after she learned of their decision to take her with them, she would have informed me, but she didn’t even try to call until after they were up there.

Come on! It wasn’t like Shirley was driving, she can’t. She could have called before they got out of range. Shirley called while they stopped at a store. She could have called me back while they heading out of that parking lot.

She didn’t.

Shirley has Early-onset Alzheimer’s she could have forgotten until she got to Scout Mountain, and clearly forgot there is no service up there, but why didn’t Vera-Ellen and her husband consider it earlier?

As far as I know, there isn’t anything wrong with their memory.

And it isn’t like they’ve never been up there before. I’ve been up there with them. In fact, Konnie has been up there with them. We all know there is no service up there.

But I can tell you, I now know how it feels to panic like that.

Now I just need a story idea to write it in.

By the way, do any of you ever use things that really happened to you in your stories?

I have. Though I changed a few important details so while the feelings were the same, the backstory and events were totally different.

I know Konnie has too.

And that’s still funny.

The first time I read a certain scene Konnie wrote, I went, “Oh, man! Poor Jerry!”

I just knew Konnie had done that to her poor husband.

However, someone in Konnie’s critique group around that time, told Konnie the scene was unrealistic and would never happen in real life. She insisted Konnie needed to delete.

Clearly, she’s never met Jerry!

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

Of Mornings and Fur Family by Konnie Enos

Bark! Bark! Bark!

Roo! Roo! Roo! (Seriously, she sounds like that.)

Bark! Whine! Scratch. Bark! Whine! Scratch.

Reeses, Mable, and Xavier want some attention and Xavier is making it worse by scratching at Tina’s bedroom door.

All this wakes me from a sound sleep. I roll over in bed hoping someone else will let them outside. I can hear his squeaky chair so I know he’s up.

Mable, who must have noticed me moving, comes and roos in my face. I open my eyes. The sun is up. I’m not sure of the time yet, but it has to be after seven for them to be making such a fuss. I do not see or hear Melinda.

“Seriously! Go away! Find Tina!”

She is unmoved by my protests and continues to roo at me with Reeses and Xavier adding their voice to the matter. Jerry, at his computer, has his earphones in, not responding.

I get my glasses on and see my bedroom door, and the bathroom is open. And to further make the point of the time, Tiger is on the bathroom counter eating his breakfast. (That’s where we feed him so the dogs don’t get his food.)

And if that’s not enough evidence to the time, Melinda walks past my bedroom door. And with Xavier still whining in Tina’s bedroom, it’s clear she isn’t awake yet.

To further make the point, the clicking of dog tags against the metal bowl starts in Melinda’s room. Meaning Gunner is now eating his breakfast. I can’t hear him, but I assume Ivan has been feed too. Three down, five to go.

Tina and both boys are asleep, Jerry is still not listening.  

With a sigh, I plod to the front of the house, which gets Mable and Reeses to shut up and follow me into the kitchen. First I get a scoop full of dog food and reach down to drop it in Reeses’ bowl. He decides to again drop his toy into his bowl, getting his head in my way. About half his food hits the floor.

I use my foot to push it closer to his bowl hoping none of the other dogs help themselves to it. I get another scoopful for Mable and turn to her bowl with her watching my every move. She waits for me to drop it in before she dives for it.

I glance at the clock. “It’s not even five after!” I glare at Mable as she now ignores me in favor of gobbling up her food. I grumble as I scoop up Xavier’s portion though Melinda takes it from me and goes to feed him herself. Xavier finally shuts up when he hears the knob turning.

But that isn’t the end of it because Hmwun and Bubbus have decided they want to eat too and are now barking to let us know they are hungry too.

Somehow this ruckus got through to Jerry and he comes out and fills both their bowls and takes them to both dogs. Eight furry family members are now fed and peace can reign.

While Melinda makes sure water bowls are full I hurry to the bathroom because I’ve been up at least a minute and have yet to use it. Running water would not be a good idea.

After using the facilities, I go back to my bed.

Now the only sounds are slurping and the clinking of tags on a metal bowl. I assume not Tiger because he, being a cat, doesn’t make much noise getting a drink.

Mable is now comfortably curled up beside me and I can assume Ivan is in Melinda’s bed, probably with Gunner and Melinda since I don’t see or hear her in the hallway. I haven’t seen Xavier yet so I assume he is still in Tina’s room, with her. Hmwun is outside with Jerry because I can hear them. It’s not Bubbus because he doesn’t have any tags on yet. Then the clinking stops though Xavier is whining at Tina’s door again.

Before I can move I hear it swing open. Then I see Melinda go past my door. The next thing I hear is the back door opening. Mable suddenly jumps off my bed and runs for the door. Most, if not all, of the dogs, run out.

There is no point in going back to sleep now. I not only have plenty to get done today, but it’ll only be a few minutes until one or more dogs want back in.

With another sigh, I opt for taking my blood sugar and getting some breakfast though I wish they didn’t have to wake me up like that.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Of Libraries and Readers by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I have a new file on my thumb drive, one that I probably needed years ago. Its title is Book Inventory. I just started it.

In fact, I’ve only completed two bookcases, and one of those only has one shelf of books, the rest are – well, you know me – Nativities, something I have mentioned many times before, but I have at least as many books as those, far more than I thought, as in duplicates.

In fact, I started the inventory because I had gone in search of something to read and I found a copy of a book I knew I had in the other room. And a further search netted me a couple more duplicates.

Thus far, I have found a total of eight books that are duplicates. In one case, I have two duplicates of the same book! Yikes!

The thing is, I knew a while ago I could probably use an inventory because I somehow ended up with two volume 3’s and no volume 8 of a series I wanted. I have since rectified that mistake, but I clearly don’t remember which books I do and don’t have when I’m out shopping thrift stores. I just see a title and or author I like and grab it, totally forgetting I already have it.

Though what I think is worse is passing up buying a book because I think I have it, only to discover I don’t. And I think I’ve done that recently as well. Still haven’t finished the inventory, so not sure, but I don’t remember seeing that book when I was looking for something to read.

I also wish inventories could be done easier. Right now, I’m taking down the titles and authors' longhand then transferring that information to my computer. Any suggestions to make it easier? Faster?

It was bad enough that I had to have my helper get down on the floor and write down the titles and authors on the bottom shelf for me. And then I made the mistake of just writing down the series I had and didn’t list each volume. I ended up having to go back and get each volume’s title for three different series’ the other night when I was working on the inventory.

If my Harry Potter series had been on the bookcases done so far, I wouldn’t have had so many problems, but on these, I barely could name the series title, each volume title escaped me, in case I wasn’t even sure how many were in the series.

And to be honest, I did write down each title for two other series’ but those two don’t have a series title. They had all been written as stand-alone’s but well, two of those titles feature a character by the name of Kit Fielding and the rest feature the character, Sid Halley. And all by the same author except the last Sid Halley one, which was written by the author’s son. I am a fan of both Dick and Felix Francis. I think I have most of Dick’s novels and am now working on Felix’s, so I really need that list to keep track of what I already have.

This is not to say that I’m going to get rid of all my duplications, because, well, I know I have several duplications between my hardcopy and digital books.

I got my reader in the first place so I wouldn’t have to lug around my scriptures and a few other church publications every Sunday. I still have those books in hardcopy, and will keep them, but they are also on my reader.

I also have The Complete Works of Shakespeare both in hardcopy and on my reader. The hardcopy I acquired back in college for a course I took on – you guessed it – Shakespeare. I got the digital version when my book club discussed reading some of his plays, and I’ll be danged if I was going to lug that tome around!

I bought that reader to save me from having to lug books around and while I didn’t mind lugging one small book to my book club meetings, big books are another issue.

Though that brings me to a question I recently saw in Facebook asking people if they preferred hardcopy or digital books.

 The question was worded in such a way that gave me the impression the asker expected everyone to answer one or the other, and not pick both. But both have their place! I use both, and I’m as likely to add a book to my reader as to buy a hardcopy book. I like both!

How about you? Which do you prefer? Or do you use both?

Happy writing everyone!

Of Memories and Smiles by Konnie Enos

I like reading the Miss Manners column. (I might learn something about good behavior.) This past weekend I was reading some of her recent columns and came across a letter from the mother of the bride. She had been divorced from the bride’s father for over two decades and she had little contact with him during the intervening years, plus she did not know his family. All would be in attendance at the wedding.

Now the letter was about her concerns for making this event less uncomfortable for this group of veritable strangers, but while I read it I remembered the story of another wedding reception where the parents of the groom had been divorced for over 20 years. The groom was their youngest. It should also be noted that while their children were in their late teens the father bodily threw the mother out of his house, with good cause. (I secretly applauded his actions.)

Within a few years, he then moved his family to a different state without ever seeing or even speaking to his ex since he threw her out. (Be assured, he had seen his children, just not their mother.)

During the intervening years, their three older children had managed to get married without both parents being there to witness it. The oldest eloped. The next two pretty much eloped as they planned their big days in less than two weeks. Due to proximity, the second child had only the mother there, and the third had only the father. By the time this wedding takes place, it’s been well over a decade since their last face-to-face encounter.

Now the son and his bride took nearly a full year to plan their big event including taking into account the weather since the father would have to drive through the mountains to get there. They planned a fall wedding, rather than in the middle of winter. Both parents can and would be there, if not all the siblings.

I heard no stories about how the actual wedding went down but one has to assume that the parents of the groom had no face-to-face confrontations based solely on what happened next.

Now it must be understood that both of them are now pushing 60. She’s grown a bit rounder and has more gray hair. He has a full head of receding gray hair and now needs a cane. He’s also rounder. One can safely say he’d aged more in the last few years than she had, though he was still recognizable.

Now cue the reception.

Since the father and mother weren’t known to get along, and both parents were there with their current spouse, not to mention the father’s health issues, they had forgone a reception line.

Well, the mother of the groom felt it was important that she should greet all the guests and introduce herself to any she didn’t know. She, therefore, was wandering around the room talking to everyone.

The father, however, health being the issue, was sitting at one of the tables only talking to or greeting those who came up to him. Just an older gentleman sitting with his hands resting on a nicely carved cane, sitting, for the moment, alone at a table.

Spotting him, the mother walked over holding out her hand, and happily asked him how he knew the happy couple. Then she added. “I’m the groom’s mother.”

Now I’m not exactly sure of his actions at this point, but I can imagine he didn’t take her hand and he may well have rolled his eyes or audibly sighed in an exasperated manner. All I do know is what he responded. “I know Grace.” (Yes, her name is Grace.) “I’m the groom’s father.”

Now I did not have the good fortune to be able to attend this blessed event due to distance and the impending arrival of my firstborn. But when I heard about it well after the fact I found it hilarious that she hadn’t recognized him and went so far as to introduce herself to the man she had four children with.

This wedding took place thirty years ago this fall. Both parents have since passed on. The bride and groom are now grandparents and due to multiple strokes, he is in the last years of dementia. So the only ones who were at the wedding and can remember it are the bride and the groom’s then stepmother.

All I have is the memory of Dad telling me about his encounter with Momma at Bryon’s wedding.

What memories bring a smile to your face? I’d love to hear them. Let’s give everyone something to smile about.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day. 

Plans, Ideas, and Motivation by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

If you’ve been by my place recently and heard some squawks and squeaks, that’s just me trying to play the clarinet. Trying being the operative word here. Maybe I’ll never be able to reach the higher notes, I have no idea, but it never hurts to try.

I’m also trying to lose weight. (Yeah, again.)

I don’t seem to be very good at that either.

And I’m taking an online course. So far so good on that one, but I’m not sure I’ll finish in the allotted time, so I have to work harder on that. And I need it because I need the training to get a better job, preferably something I can do from home.

And at some point, I really should finish editing, updating, fixing book one of my sci-fi series so that I can finish writing book two then go on to books three and four, but I also need to contact the publishers I submitted to back in January to see if they have made a decision on my story yet. Meaning I have to write a nice polite, “Hey, have you read it yet? When will I hear from you?” letter.

Personally, I’m of a mind to tell them they have until June 2^nd (six months after I submitted) to let me know one way or the other, or I will submit elsewhere on June 2^nd.

This also means I need to figure out where elsewhere should be. Any suggestions? I could use a few.

Here is the blurb for the one I’m trying to sell:

Members are different, which is causing Mathias Hawklace a major heartache. It’s one thing to be attracted to an Outsider, it altogether another to “Connect” with one. It had been bad enough facing losing his family because he hadn’t found his one true love, but to find her, and still face losing his family? Intolerable.

And how is it possible for an Outsider to “Connect” in the first place? Are we more alike than Members thought?

This isn’t really a sci-fi, though the main characters are aliens, it’s a YA contemporary romance.

And the only other thing I can think to say about it is, if werewolves can have their one and only, then why can’t aliens? This is what it’s about, really.

Anyway, I’d love for a publisher to pick it up.

I’d also like to be a hundred pounds lighter, a virtuoso on the clarinet, and an artist with both words and yarn.

Did I mention making Christmas gifts?

I’ve started a couple, I’m so slow I’ve been working on one of them off and on for almost two years now. And I have the supplies for several gift projects for just about as long that I haven’t even started.

And a certain niece of mine is expecting again. Another gift to add to my list.

Don’t be surprised if I end up buying everything again.

It's not like I can make stuff for some family members.

Men are so hard to make things for.

Heck, men are hard to shop for!

I had no problem shopping for Tom! He was easy. In fact, I still periodically spot things that Tom would have loved. I did it again just a few days ago. But shopping for my bother-in-law, nephews, and nephew-in-law – HELP!

And on top of that, one of our nieces is getting married this year.

Great, a wedding and Christmas in the same month!

 I guess I’m lucky I don’t have to actually go to the wedding, with the gas prices the way they are, I can’t afford the drive, even if it is only two hours one way.

And no matter how hard I try to keep my Christmas shopping list short, someone is always adding a name or two it. Though really the tiny additions are fine. Babies are so easy to shop or make gifts for. Their daddies are a different story.

I can think a few men who are probably tired of getting ties from me every Christmas.

Give me another suggestion and I’ll go with it!

Help me figure out how to divide my not-at-work hours between my class, my writing, and my crafts, and I’d be eternally grateful, but I’m afraid the solution is to never turn my TV on again.

And it's not like I’m watching a lot, just Star Trek the Original, TNG, DS9, and Voyager, and only six nights a week. And if I ever got my act together, I could do crafts while I watched them. I couldn’t write, but I could do crafts. And I honestly know I should.

Well, that and eat dinner.

 Basically, we’re back to my mental issues of not being able to prioritize properly.

Anyway, happy writing everyone! Maybe next time I’ll have some good news.

Of Puppy Enthusiasm and Crabby Dogs by Konnie Enos

I was comfortably sound asleep having pleasant dreams. I can’t now tell you what those dreams were because I was suddenly jarred awake by wet coldness on the tip of my nose.

Now if you have any interaction with four-legged friends you can understand what can cause this. Since our home is full of four-legged family members in possession of cold wet noses, I immediately flailed out at my assumed offender, my ornery Mable. After all her preferred sleeping place is between Jerry and me.

My hands did not find Mable. I now assumed I was being attacked by Reeses, Jerry’s fluff ball because he slept in our room. I reached higher as I pried my eyes open.

I finally managed to focus just enough of a peek to see just who was putting his nose on me. I hadn’t reached high enough either time. With the identity of my attacker confirmed I realized Jerry wasn’t in bed. How could he be with this large lummox sitting on Jerry’s spot in the bed?

 Since Jerry was awake, and this beast was loose in my bedroom, I could only conclude Jerry had returned from picking Tony up from work.

Therefore I yelled at Tony for help, all while grappling with the behemoth attempting to keep him from biting me or again sticking his nose in my face. To ensure I got some assistance I further added that I did not appreciate being roused from a sound sleep by a cold, wet nose.

Tony came into the room laughing and hauled the interloper off my bed, out of my room, and into the back yard where presumably he was supposed to be rather than curiously poking at my face.

Now I must explain that this behemoth, while now the second largest of our dogs, the Akita is full-grown, he is still a puppy, and a bundle of curiosity and energy combined with a strong Husky tendency for drama.

He once somehow got one paw caught in something which resulted in him yelping and squealing so loudly it woke Jerry from a sound sleep and set most of the household, including Jerry, scrambling through the house to see what the catastrophe was. The poor dear was uninjured (the resident vet nurse completely checked him out). He did not like having his paw caught. That and he is, like all Husky’s tend to be, a true drama queen.

That is not the only time he’s whined, fussed, yelped, or squealed all because he was not pleased with his present condition and wanted attention.

For my part, I’m grateful he doesn’t generally find his way into my room with his theatrics. Most of the daylight encounters involve him sniffing around and Mable loudly telling him this is her room and she’d very much rather he not be in it. Mable is far too territorial to realize he is twice her size and still growing.

To ensure peace and no injuries, deadly or otherwise, we make efforts to keep them apart while still allowing them to see each other and hopefully Mable will get used to his presence before a battle occurs.

The behemoth has already lost all curiosity about the only female four-legged inhabitant in our house so now we have to again teach Mable that every family member is allowed in my bedroom.

Though I still have the issue of startling early morning attacks.

Only a couple of weeks after the first one, I was jolted awake by pain in one toe. That and my bed being jostled. I looked up just in time to see Tony again hauling his behemoth out of my bed and into the back yard instead of running over my bed and stepping on my toe.

I’m now assuming a third attack of the over-exuberant puppy will occur eventually. I mean he is less than a year old. He is, however, now old enough to feel the need to procreate while still being young enough to not realize all the nuances of actually doing so. In other words, he is starting to try to follow that instinct without realizing he needs a female canine to get anywhere.

Do I need to restate that we only have ONE female four-legged family member? Perhaps I should point out she is not only a senior dog but less than half his size. Though the main issue is she does NOT like him. That and Mable is as ornery as he is a drama queen.

Don’t you just love the different personalities families bring into your life?

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.