My Scattered Brain by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I was getting ready for bed last night when I remembered that today is Wednesday and it’s my turn to write a post. I don’t usually remember this late at night, and I really have no excuse because after work yesterday I took my sister-in-law shopping, and at the end of the evening, she asked me, “Tomorrow is Wednesday, isn’t it? Are we going to our knitting group tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it's Wednesday, and yes I’m planning on it,” I said, and yet it didn’t sink in that I also had to write my post until hours later when I was getting ready for bed.

Had I remembered I needed to write a post earlier this wouldn’t be an issue. And here I wanted to try and be more organized this year.

So much for that.

And what makes it worse, last week, on Tuesday evening as I was getting ready for bed, I messaged Konnie and said, “Please tell me it’s your turn to post.”

Too bad, that wouldn’t get the same results this week.

Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t received a message from Konnie reminding me, she usually does. Though of course, she isn’t feeling well right now.

Something I wouldn’t know except the other night I couldn’t sleep, so I started reading one of her manuscripts on our shared drive. It is an unfinished manuscript and I wanted to be assured that the two main characters did not end up being biologically related, from the clues given there was a possibility there, since the heroine's mother had no memory of her life before meeting the heroine’s father and uncle, and she shared some features with his cousin.

So, Monday I called Konnie to ask her about it. She couldn’t talk right then because she was in the ER. She called me when they were on the way home. I did beg her to tell me they were not biologically related. She assured me they weren’t, though they share some relations, they are related on different sides of the family tree. Good news there.

Bad news, she’s sick so she hasn’t noticed I haven’t posted yet. She usually does. I promise. She usually reminds me like on Tuesday morning, or at least well before my usual bedtime that it's my turn. She knows I can be scatterbrained. After all, she’s lived with me for a couple of decades.

As hard as I try to stay organized, what my house looks more like is orderly chaos. I can generally find what I’m looking for unless Patches managed to move it to someplace else.

I have little nests here and there piled with things, and I know what things are in what nests. I know where they are, but it's still a mess. I’m working on it.

But again, I’ve always been like this. I try to be neat and orderly, but I have piles of papers and notebooks, and sometimes books all over the place. Some of the mess is also mail I really should be dealing with.

Once, many years ago, my husband asked where a certain paper was. My answer was something like this, “Oh, in that pile on my desk. It should be somewhere between the yellow paper and the pink paper.”

He just stared at me in shock. There was a rainbow of color in that pile, and it was pretty tall for a pile of papers. I walked over and pulled what he needed out of the middle of that mess, somewhere between the two colors I had mentioned. He was still in shock when I handed it to him.

Give me a break. I try to be organized, but at least I can remember where I put things.

In contrast, my husband was always misplacing things.

Once when we returned home, he unlocked and entered the house ahead of me, as I entered, I heard metal hitting wood, which had to be his keys landing somewhere, only logical.

A few hours later, he had to go somewhere, and couldn’t find his keys. He panicked. I considered how far ahead of me he was when I heard the keys land on wood and looked toward the nearest piece of wooden furniture to that location. And there they were, right on top in plain sight. I could see them from across the room.

He could never figure out how I could stay so calm when he was panicking. I used my head instead of zigzagging around the house searching every hiding place he could think of. The man was literally looking under and between the couch cushions!

Let’s see, it hit wood. Oh! There it is!

So, I guess I’m a "logical scatterbrain." How about you?

Happy writing everyone!

Of Wrong Numbers And Strange Ones by Konnie Enos

I recently came across something asking people about their unusual experiences with receiving a wrong number call. I have gotten a few, but most of them are rather mundane.

“You have the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry.” Click.

Or some variation thereof. Even the lady who called for years because my number is one digit off that of her friends/family members.

However, a couple of them stand out.

One came only hours after I’d gotten my brand-new cell phone. The young lady asked for Tony. I, understandably, asked who she was and why she was calling Tony. She told me she was his girlfriend. I told her I was his mother. She told me she had the wrong number. I agreed with her since Tony was only in kindergarten at the time. She hung up.

But really, the most unusual phone call I ever received wasn’t technically a wrong number. The gentleman in question had taken the right steps of calling information and getting a phone number listed for the person he was trying to contact. He was even calling that landline number. Completely right number. Just not me.

The only thing I knew about the caller was a guy and drunk, plus he seemed to think I knew him. Without even considering that I’d just moved and very few of my family or friends had my number yet, I could not think of a soul I knew who would have been drinking, let alone calling me in that condition.

I was seriously beginning to think this stranger was one of those perverts who got off on calling strange women and breathing heavily. Though he wasn’t doing any of that or even really talking dirty. He was, however, still rambling about life and stuff and seemed to think he knew me.

I assure you, he did not.

He also did not stop rambling about things I knew nothing about, nor did it give me any clue as to who he was or who he might be calling. He must have rambled for five minutes at least before he finally paused and said something along the lines of, “you don’t recognize me do you?”

I suggested he might have the wrong number.

He told me his name.

I started to tell him I knew nobody by that name only to have it ring a bell. I’d heard it several times in the five or so years I’d been married at that point. Having never met the man, I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t lying. I was unsure what to say next.

Then he asked me if I was SIL.

I had to tell him that she no longer lived there (remember this was in the age of landlines). I was still not positive he was their cousin so I got a phone number and told him I’d let her know he was looking for her.

He did. I got off and called my SIL. Several hours later, she called me back and told me that yes, it was their cousin. And yes, he was rarely not soused or high. Generally both.

He even called me back and thanked me for getting him in touch with his cousin and asked about my husband since SIL had told him I was Jerry’s wife. (He hadn’t known Jerry was married, let alone had two little girls.) Oh, I’ve talked to him on the phone a couple of other times and seen him in person on one occasion since then.

How did we end up with a number that was listed under SIL’s name?

Well, it was her phone number. At that point, I don’t think we even switched it into our name.

This is what happened.

Since there was more work available closer to where Jerry’s sister’s lived, than where we were, we decided to move. His sister, Jackie, let us stay with her while we were house hunting.

We ran into one big problem. We could not find a place to rent. We already had two kids and were expecting a third (one of my miscarriages, unfortunately) and would have preferred a three-bedroom place. Those were all well outside our budget.

We found some reasonable two-bedrooms but the landlords were not enthusiastic about renting to a family with two kids under 5, let alone expecting another one.

After a couple of months of that futile effort, she decided to move in with her brand-new (only a couple of weeks) boyfriend and leave her apartment to us. (Yes, we cleared the change in occupancy with the landlord first.) Their cousin called after she’d moved out and before we’d gotten the phone changed into our name.

Anyway, that’s my unusual phone call story.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day. 

Christmas Musings by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Merry Christmas! I hope your family is prepared since at this point the holiday is just days away. I know Konnie is. But Konnie is ready for Christmas by the first week of December. I’m not as organized as her.

I know her system, I just never get my act together enough to utilize it, and this year I’ve had the added issues with car problems hindering my shopping. I’d normally be done with Christmas shopping by the first week of December too, just not as leisurely as Konnie manages it.

You see, Konnie only shops for like her oldest son in December. That’s her system. Each month of the year she checks who has birthdays coming up and buys both birthday and Christmas present for those who are on her list that month! She ships me both my birthday and Christmas present before our July birthday. Can you believe that?

I’m not that organized. Actually, I’m not organized at all.

In fact, I found several gifts hiding in my spare room the other day that I bought one to two years ago! And the weird part is that I didn’t forget to send those few people a gift for Christmas the last couple of years, so wow. I need to get better organized.

And, on top of being disorganized, I’ve been having car problems making it hard to get any shopping done, ergo, I am not ready for Christmas yet. Hopefully, I can get ready in the few days remaining but going shopping this late in the year is going to be horrendous. For one, electric carts will be scarce, and the stores will be crowded.

If I could I’d avoid the stores from Thanksgiving to December 26^th (you know the day with all the lines of people returning gifts they didn’t like). Yeah, I avoid Black Friday and the day after Christmas at all costs.

And what am I supposed to get?

My supervisor got me a new Nativity. I wasn’t even thinking about getting her something, now what? And I have a friend who also got me a Nativity, but I didn’t get her anything. I usually do, because I know she will get me something, but I haven’t had the means to do any extended shopping.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my neighbors get me something, they’ve surprised me with Nativities a few times. But what I do get them, and their three kids? No clue. And I really should have done that by now, but not only have I had car issues, but I just spent over a week sick. Which certainly isn’t helping the money issues any.

Did I mention my car registration is due this month?

And now it looks like my car battery needs replaced. I don’t have that kind of money. Great.

I’ve honestly thought about starting a GoFundMe page, but I doubt that would help. Who has money to spare? And why would they give it to me, even if they did?

So, I’m short on money right now and will remain short on money for the foreseeable future, which makes fixing my car all the harder.

On top of that, I haven’t been writing or editing. I did get some critiques on my chapter I submitted to a “First Chapter” contest, but I’ve read the first page of critiques, and well one of them essentially wants me to put back all the info dumps I already took out.

Not her words, but that seems to be the gist of what she is saying. She says she’s confused about the time and place of the story, which to me means she wants the time and place spelled out upfront instead of shown in the story. Either that or she missed the part about it being contemporary speculative fiction.

Not sure how I can make it even more explicit about the time and place without an info dump, which isn’t a good thing to have in a novel.

Another lady complained about how many characters were introduced in the first chapter and questioned the title character using first and last names of his family and friends. She has a point, I’m just not sure how to solve that issue.

And, yeah, I know I can’t please everyone but why can’t they at least agree on something. If they agreed on just one thing, I would know I need to fix it, but three critiques and none of them brought up the same issue. NONE! Now, what do I do?

Anyway, what are your Christmas plans? Are you ready?

If you are going to be traveling for Christmas, stay safe out there.

And Happy writing everyone!

How Time Flies by Konnie Enos

Time flies.

Just yesterday I was writing down an appointment date and I had to remember it was not in 2022 but rather in 2023 and it’s only about three months away.

So I’m sitting here astonished, yet again, at how fast the time does go by. Looking back on my life and the memories I have and realizing they weren’t yesterday, last week, last month, or even last year.

The pandemic hit over two years ago and 911 was 21 years ago. Other major events that I can remember are things like Regan being elected and the time he was shot at. Or Nixon resigning. I can still remember what I was feeling and thinking when all my classmates were cheering President Carter getting elected and I was off to the side thinking that President Ford was given a short shift simply because he was associated with Nixon, yet he was a good man.

And yes, I admire President Carter too. I probably would not own my home without him. If not for his friendship with the Fullers Habitat for Humanity might not be the worldwide organization that it is today and I therefore would probably not have my home.

And then it wasn’t long ago (of course that could mean two years ago) that I was looking at a picture depicting the long movie lines waiting to go see the brand-new release of STAR WARS. While the picture was not taken in my hometown it still clearly represented the era and I could just envision the line I stood in as a teenager myself so that I could get my first chance to see that spectacular movie. It boggles my mind that was 45 years ago. Not to mention, the Bicentennial was 46 years ago and I can remember that celebration too.

I can also remember the joy I got watching Star Trek back when I was in grade school. And those were repeats because I was eight by then and it went off the air when I was seven. And yes, I’m still a fan. It’s possible to love both a Star Trek fan and a Star Wars fan.

Then there are more personal events that seem like yesterday and they aren’t.

Things like I finally finished my bachelor's degree five months ago. The last time I had to drive any of my kids to school was three and a half years ago. My oldest grandbaby will be four soon which means my daughter has already celebrated her fifth anniversary. My mother has been gone for 15 years and my Dad for 20. My youngest is not only 21 now, but he’ll be 22 in less than six months. Of course, my oldest child is now 31, has been married for over 5 years, and has two daughters. Which just reminds me I’ve been married for 32 years. Seriously, it flies so fast that I have to calculate it.

But what I’m thinking about today is those specific events that happened well yesterday, just 23 years ago. I can remember getting dropped off at my doctor’s and expecting it to be just an hour or so. It was after all just a check-up on my baby who was due sometime between Christmas and New Year’s. What ended up happening is the doctor admitted me so he could induce me the next morning (as in today, 23 years ago). (I still say there was nothing wrong with my baby, he just didn’t want to be called in over his Christmas break.)

So yea, I’m thinking about that precious baby born 23 years ago today, my oldest son, Tony. Oh and the fact that brat doesn’t want to me to celebrate it with him, after all, he’s not a baby anymore.

Happy birthday anyway, Tony.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Opposites by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Being mirror twins means that Konnie and I are mirror opposites; basically, she’s a left-dominant, and I’m a right-dominant. But yesterday as I was freezing driving to work, I thought about Konnie and how warm Vegas must be this time of year.

Yeah, I know people in Vegas don’t think it's warm. I still remember my last Christmas visit to Konnie’s and how I borrowed one of her jackets because it had dipped to like 60 degrees and all I had was my winter coat (which was decidedly too heavy for 60-degree weather). Come Sunday, I’m wearing one of Konnie’s jackets, and I see people enter the chapel wearing parkas that are all done up, and they are shivering all over the place complaining about how dreadfully cold it was!

I repeat it was around 60 degrees, yesterday morning it got up to a balmy 34 degrees (Sunday morning when I went to Church is 24 degrees and freezing rain), and down in Vegas they complain 60 degrees is too cold! I look forward to 60 degrees, but it won’t arrive here in Idaho until about May, if not later.

Of course, when we get up into the 80s and 90s around here, Vegas is sweltering in temperatures that could make a sidewalk melt.

This is why a few years ago when we talked about getting together for our birthday, I told Konnie, if you want to see me on our birthday, you’re coming to me, period.

This still holds, I plan on never going to Vegas in July.

If I can manage it, I’ll go down there for Christmas, but not for our birthday, ever.

She’s more than welcome to come up here for our birthday.

And what does all this have to do with being mirror twins? Well, only that the climate each of us lives in is the opposite of the climate where the other one lives.

Opposites.

Which is what has been on my mind lately.

Of course, we are not vastly different. We are members of the same church, and we both write (just not all the same genres). I could add something about being married, except these days I’m a widow, she isn’t. Then again, when my husband was alive, we were married and our husbands, well about all they had in common was being members of our church and they married twins.

Tom once said he had nothing to talk about with Jerry. They had no shared interests.

And yes folks, I did note the Tom and Jerry part.

It’s kind of hard not to note that especially when you consider that Tom was as close to six foot as I am to five foot and quite a well-built man (no six-pack, but he did have muscle definition), while Jerry is so short, he’s lucky he found a wife shorter than him. He’s a small guy. And I’m guessing Jerry isn’t quite as hairy as Tom was, considering Konnie’s aversion to hairy men.

So yeah, our husbands are Tom and Jerry, literally and figuratively.

Another thing is of course, that I live alone with one cat. Konnie still has three kids in the house, and they have a whole menagerie of animals under their roof.

My house is quiet except when I have the TV on, am watching YouTube, or something on my phone. Konnie’s house is rarely quiet. There are too many animals and people for that. And they rarely watch TV. I’ve been known to turn my TV on just for the noise.

When Konnie last visited here for our birthday, one day I left a few hours to do my volunteer work, she stayed home, and when I returned, I found she had a video on, but she was also writing. I was surprised at that. Konnie looked at me and said, “It was too quiet, I couldn’t concentrate.”

Yeah, well, I have the opposite problem at your house.

It's true. If I’m visiting her house, the likelihood of me getting any writing done is slim. And yet Konnie is so used to all that racket that she has trouble concentrating on her writing in my quiet house.

Though all of this has to do with what we’ve gotten used to. Even when Tom and I had upwards of thirteen cats and kittens in the house, it was never noisy in the place. And, if I wanted to write while he wanted to watch TV, I’d just close the bedroom door so I couldn’t hear the TV.

At Konnie’s house, you can’t get away from the noise.

And another difference is I do NaNo and she doesn’t. By the way, I had to really buckle down and concentrate for that last week or so, but I did it!

Happy writing everyone!

Of Immune Systems and Sickness by Konnie Enos

 In the last few weeks, we discovered that Tony has a pretty strong immune system but Royce’s isn’t that strong.

You see it’s flu season and apparently not only is covid and the flu going around again but RSV is too. On top of that Royce started earlier this month as an Amazon seasonal employee.

Now Amazon can be a great place to work and one of the first things Royce found out when he started there was they have rooms set aside for their employees with Autism to go to have time to calm down from a meltdown.

Yes, you read that right. Amazon understands people with Autism enough to accommodate their needs. Royce had at least two fellow employees tell him that they were personally close to someone with Autism, as in a family member or close friend.

So Royce is feeling pretty good about the job, right up until he comes down with a cold. At that point, he’d only been working a week and was too sick to go in. And figuring out how to report that and get the time off was stressing him so bad he actually went and applied for a different job. (Unfortunately, they turned him down.) But, Royce is figuring out how to navigate the system. Mostly he has learned that they have people hired to help employees navigate the time off system. Still stressful, but he’s handling it, even though he’s had to get time off a second time in the less than a month he’s worked there.

But all that brings us to the main issue.

I don’t know why, but every time Royce gets sick I get it from him and only sometimes does anyone else in the family get it.

The first time he got sick. I got it, though not as bad.

Now this time? So far Jerry and Tony are the only ones not affected.

Which is bad.

Melinda and I do most of the housework and we both are so sick we both saw doctors yesterday.

Yes, both of us were prescribed antibiotics.

This brings me to my issue.

It’s my turn to post and I’ve been under the weather since at least Saturday. I’ve even been crashing for the night before, or very shortly after, 10 p.m. I finally let Bonnie know that I hadn’t written my post yet and I wasn’t going to be able to write it any time soon. Like possibly not at all.

Due to taking Melinda to quick care and making sure Tony got to and from work, Jerry couldn’t take me to quick care until later in the day. (I have slightly different insurance than my kids and the nearest quick care won’t take my primary insurance.) Needless to say, both places were pretty busy and it wasn’t quick at all.

The only reason I didn’t go straight to bed when I got back from the quick care last night was that I hadn’t had dinner yet. And the only other thing I managed was to let Bonnie know I was sick before I crashed for the night.

Needless to say, my post did not get written. And Bonnie wasn’t able to get one done because, unlike me, she has a job and other responsibilities.

I’d rather still be asleep, but the sun is coming up and I’m somehow awake at this hour, and since there was nothing posted yet, I thought I’d at least attempt to get something written as to why I didn’t do this sooner.

Oh, and Royce has decided that whether or not he likes them, he will wear his mask at work from now on. He even said he was going to get him a hazmat suit. Though for now, he’s making full use of all the hand sanitizer Amazon has available for their employees to use. That and wearing his mask of course.

So that is my week so far.

I’m also falling back to sleep so I’m going to end this post.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Distracting Research by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Time is running out, and I am way behind in my writing this month. I’d like to say my transportation issues are what is causing me to be so far behind on Nano but the truth is it's still social media. Really need to stop scrolling through the stories on Facebook.

I’ve read so much about rude people, entitled people, and dumb people and it totally surprises there are so many stories like this.

I was just reading a story about a guy who helpfully raised his hand so the witness could identify him! And that wasn’t even the dumbest story in the post. And some of the "rude people" stories were so outrageous I wondered how they could keep their jobs, but then in some of those the employees did lose their jobs, just not all, in most of them, they only lost a customer.

And that doesn’t even come to the entitled people.

I mean I’ve read stories where these insane people think they can claim to know the owner of some business to get away with all sorts of shenanigans, but the funniest ones are when they claim to know the owner and they are speaking to the owner! Though I read one where the business was owned by three siblings, and one customer claimed to know the oldest of the three and even used his first name in the claim, but the next second one of the sibling owners walk past and the customer says hi to him calling him by the younger brother’s name – it was the elder brother.

I read some were about the customers claiming to be a wife, or some other family of the owner while talking to an actual relative to the owner, but the best one was when a guy tried to claim to be the owner’s favorite grandnephew, he knew the name and everything.

Only two problems. The owner’s oldest (and favorite) grandnephew was in his late teens but the guy making the claim was clearly closer to thirty. And the second problem? That idiot was talking to the owner of the identity he'd claimed as his. The kid had a name tag on and everything.

One story had a woman claiming to be the wife of the owner. The so-called “mere” employee she claimed she was going to get fired stared at her and said, “That’s funny; you don’t look like Mom.”

I mean really, how can dumb can you get? Claiming to know people you don’t know! Things like that can be proven.

I read one where the customer wreaked some havoc and then claimed the owner would believe him, a supposed best bud, over some mere employee and the employee was going get fired. The so-called employee turned and called into the next room and said, “Hey, Dad, you want to come out here and hear this customer’s complaint?”

That’s even better than all the various stories I’ve read where disgruntled customers go into a tirade demanding to speak to the manager, only to have the person they are ranting at, give the fool some version of, “You’re speaking to him.”

But the one I really liked was the kid who, in response to a request for the manager, said, “Sure, I’ll go get the manager on duty,” then walked into the other room, turned around, and came back out and asked the ranting customer, “How can I help you?”

Cute.

The best part was the customer had been calling the kid all sorts of names, mostly deriding her about being female, and that manager would put her in her place. Yeah, right.

Like the grandmother arguing with the manager (name tag indicating that and all) and asking a nearby employee to please go get her boss. The said employee pointed to the person she was railing at. The grandmother refused to believe a person of color could be the manager and demanded to speak to another manager in the place.

The only other manager on duty that day was also a person of color.

I admit I got hooked on these stories a few months ago when I was doing some research to be sure the antics of the “Karyn” in one of my stories weren’t unbelievably over the top. Folks, I had to amp it up, because I wasn’t even close! Not by a long shot!

But I keep reading to find more fodder for my story. Except it's not the one I’m working on!

I really need to work on this new one. And I hate the idea of not finishing but it looks like I may not finish this year. I’ll keep plugging away, though I clearly will not be done by Thanksgiving, not a prayer.

Happy writing everyone!