Of Emergencies and Busy Schedules by Konnie Enos

Almost two weeks ago I noticed the symptoms of a UTI. I knew what it was and how to treat it. UTIs are common and can be treated in the early stages with home remedies. The best ones are drinking lots of water and cranberry juice.

Water I had covered. Cranberry juice required a trip to the store, which I did not feel like going to. Since there are only two other people in the house who can drive my choices were Melinda and Jerry.

I knew if Melinda went the task would be quickly and easily accomplished without further input than I needed some cranberry juice. I also knew she would not want to be disturbed at that hour. Being neurodivergent she gets testy if her set schedule of doing things is disrupted. Grocery shopping is done on Friday or Saturday morning. Also, it just happened to be around the time she would insist on beginning meal prep for our dinner. Now she can switch gears for an emergency, but I didn’t think this was serious enough to disturb her.

Besides, Jerry was just across the room rather than on the other side of the house.

With my beloved husband, I not only had to be extremely clear about what I wanted, but I had to write it down. Even then, he wasn’t sure he’d get it right and therefore roped the only other person in the house to go with him for help and moral support. Therefore, I also had to tell Royce explicitly what I wanted.

Thankfully, the mission was accomplished.

However, within a day or so I figured out I’d miscalculated. My infection was more advanced than I expected and did not quickly respond to the juice.

I found myself at the stage where pain and difficulty using the bathroom meant it was time to see the doctor. By this time, it was late evening on a Friday. This was not waiting for office hours.

Jerry took me to the nearest urgent care that was open at that hour. (Meaning an emergency room.) They ran a couple of tests and agreed with my diagnosis. They sent me home with antibiotics.

I’m really good at taking my medicine so I figured that issue was dealt with.

By Wednesday the pain had moved up into my back. I’ve had Kidney infections before.

I called the nurse's line. She said to be seen within the hour. I did try my doctor, but he couldn’t fit me in until the next day. Back to the urgent care I went. I figured they’d run some tests and get me a stronger antibiotic.

When the doctor told me they were admitting me I was floored.

Then they spent the entire night requiring blood samples that took no less than THREE pokes each time to just get any blood. I was tired (they kept waking me up) and my arms were starting to fill up with bruises from all their efforts. They had put in an IV, which was receiving the fluids they were flushing just fine, but it would not let them draw any blood from it.

So, they decided the best option was a PIC line. Which required them to first locate the vein with ultrasound. It took most of the next day for the tech needed to do it to arrive, but she managed to get that line in.

Thankfully, they managed it before my IV decided to stop working so I didn’t get poked and prodded anymore. Though, of course, the damage had been done. My arms were full of some very colorful bruises.

After two days they sent me home with stronger antibiotics and I’m doing much better now. However, I did spend an additional couple of days in my bed recuperating from the experience. A full week later and my arms are still recovering. The smaller bruises on the back of my hands are nearly all healed. They are not nearly as visible though if I happen to hit them they still feel bruised. The ones where the IVs were are still very colorful.

After all of this, Melinda, Jerry, and I discussed what we needed to do this week and discovered that our week, especially Tuesday, was packed. Three of us had overlapping appointments.

I took Jerry to his morning appointment so Melinda could have the car for hers. I was supposed to take Paratransit to mine, but they were running late. Fortunately, Melinda took less time than expected. Jerry was supposed to run his second errand while I was at the doctor's but delayed it until I got back.

It was a bit of a stressful and long day.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Of Not Looking My Age by Bonnie Le Hamilton

I do not look my age. I honestly never have. I say this because the other day I was reading a post about people telling their most memorable experience of not looking their age. I found myself wondering, which was my most memorable experience, I have so many.

The most recent incident happened at work a little over a month ago. I forget what started the conversation, but I mentioned I would be turning 62 in July this year and one co-worker stared at me stunned. “You’re older than me?”

“Apparently.”

I am around three years older than her; she thought she was older than me. Nope.

And I had similar problems way back in school. Like back in my junior year of high school. We had just moved from a small town in Idaho to Tacoma Washington, and it was my first day at this big new school. I was also having trouble finding one of my classes and the tardy bell had already rung. Desperate, I cornered the only other person in the area, saying, “Could you help me, I think I’m lost.”

He looked me over from head to toe (it was January, and we were outside, so I did have a heavy coat on), and he said, “Yeah, the junior high is down there,” pointing down the hill.

I glared at him and said, “I’m a Junior, and I’m looking for,” I showed him my schedule, “this class.”

He was stunned, but he did show me where my class was. Maybe if he’d seen the size of my chest he wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion, but then maybe not

A little over a year later, Konnie and I were attending a conference for the youth, and at one point we had sack lunches in a park. Konnie and I were sitting and visiting with the younger sister of a girl in our class because none of the girls her age wanted anything to do with her.

The poor girl was 6’2” and around 14 or 15.

Someone else saw the three of us together and made a comment about our friend babysitting who she thought was the youngest kids in the entire group. Nope, we were the oldest.

Though the most memorable instance was when I was twenty-four. I had a roommate who had just turned twenty-one and she came home from work with the news that her coworkers had learned she was now twenty-one and invited her to join them at a local bar after work.

Problem one is the young lady was a small-town LDS girl. I was the only one she knew well who had ever been inside a bar.

She had in fact been very intrigued when she learned I’m a convert and had been raised by a barmaid. Now she wanted me to go with her to the bar because she really wanted to see what it was like.

I’ve told this story before, we had a fight about it, but she won. I’d first tried to talk her out of going altogether then tried to just give her some advice on what would be a safe beverage to order. She prevailed and I went with her.

When we arrived at the bar, she quickly spotted her coworkers, and we crossed the room to their table with a barmaid close behind us.

The barmaid took my roommate's order, and then I asked her for orange juice, she told me she’d have to see my ID first. I fought it simply because I knew I wouldn’t be ordering any alcohol, but she insisted; I showed her my ID and she went to get our drinks.

My roommate started giggling. I asked her to be quiet and tried to tell her it wasn’t funny, but she countered it was too.

Her coworkers asked her what was so funny, and my roommate pointed to me saying, “She’s twenty-four.” 

Making me the only one at the table not laughing hysterically when the barmaid returned with our drinks and asked what was so funny. I told her, “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Having been raised by a barmaid, I was aware she could lose her job over not carding someone she should have.

The fellow on the other side of her said, “You only carded the oldest one here.”

Dang. I didn’t know that. I looked at her and said, “I told you; you didn’t want to know.”

Her face had gone sheet white, and everyone else at that table quickly wiped out their IDs.

FYI, my roommate was the youngest one there, and not counting me, the oldest guy was about a month shy of twenty-four.

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

 

Of Lost Things and Last Minutes by Konnie Enos

My side of the room is generally organized chaos. My loosely defined nightstand consists of a tray table, an end table, a medium and small set of plastic drawers, and a mishmash of boxes and bags to keep everything I want in easy reach nearby.

Chaos means stuff gets lost. Now if this haphazard area is bumped, things generally fall onto something below them. Occasionally, they manage to find a crevice to reach the floor. The real issue is when someone intentionally knocks things over or manages to kick them under the bed.

Now, my husband and children are not apt to come riffling through my nightstand unless they need something stored in this mess. I tell them where to look and avoid them having to do any searching. They can generally manage this without dislodging anything.

Of course, we also have dogs in the house. At present count, there are four of them. Tiny Ivan couldn’t reach anything on my nightstand let alone dislodge it even if he wanted to. He also generally avoids my room. Then there is the three-legged Xavier and the medium-sized Gunner. Both of which probably could dislodge things if they had any interest in doing so. Like Ivan, they are old enough to prefer sleeping over puppy-exuberant mischief.

On the other hand, Lakota is not only our largest dog but still young enough to retain a significant amount of puppy exuberance. I also have some snack food stored on my nightstand. Plenty of incentive for her to investigate. Since she won’t come anywhere near me, she does this when I’m not in the bedroom.

First I noticed the contents of my garbage can were getting strewn around. We quickly figured out she was getting into it so I now put it where she couldn’t reach it. (It’s now covered.)

Unfortunately, that means she explored further. On more than one occasion she knocked things off my nightstand. This action, unfortunately, put some of my snack food within easy reach for her. Finding things that included jerky sticks just encouraged further exploration.

Needless to say, I’ve had to pick things up more often than usual lately. (I’ve also had to get creative to keep my snacks away from her since some of it is chocolate.)

For these reasons when I recently reached for a small box of tissues I’d precariously perched on my jewelry box, I couldn’t find it. I assumed it had fallen during Lakota’s most recent foray.

Now falling to things below them, or even the floor in front of my nightstand isn’t an issue because I should be able to still see them. Managing to fall and fly or otherwise get knocked under the bed is a different issue.

Since my husband and I are both senior citizens and both suffer from arthritis getting down on our protesting knees and looking under the bed is not an easy thing to do. Getting back up from that uncomfortable position is even harder.

When the two of us could not immediately see the box of tissues by searching the floor in front of my nightstand we assumed it was under the bed. Jerry enlisted Royce for the search.

I’m not sure if that was a better choice. Due to his size getting down in the confined space beside my bed is not easy for him either. There is also the issue of like most males, including his father, Royce has object blindness. He can be looking right at something and not see it.

He, however, dutifully comes to my bedside.

I tell him exactly what I’m looking for and where I last saw it, as in where I know I placed it. Due to the cramped conditions and the object blindness, I am not expecting much. In fact, I’m already considering annoying Melinda and asking for her help.

Royce glances over my nightstand and says, “It’s right there.”

“What? Where?”

He picks it up from BEHIND my jewelry box and hands it to me.

Its position and the other things up there, such as my bottle of lotion, meant it was mostly blocked from my view even though I’d been closer to it than Royce was.

Thinking of Royce just reminds me that I started this year’s gift shopping late. As in I didn’t even start shopping until after I would normally already have it wrapped.

When I noticed that, I immediately did some shopping and managed to get him a gift which was delivered a few weeks ago. I have, however, repeatedly put off wrapping it.

Now I can no longer put it off. I have to wrap his birthday present sometime today before we serve dinner.

Why?

Because we always unwrap birthday presents after dinner and today is the day.

Happy birthday, Royce.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Tom and Jerry by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

This past week Konnie posted on Facebook that she’d seen a t-shirt with the slogan, “Proud daughter of a Vietnam Vet,” then she went to say if she had a shirt like that it would say, “Proud daughter of a Vietnam Vet and wife of a First Gulf War vet who is the son of a Korean War vet.”

When I read that post, I stared at it for a good minute before I said to myself, I could say the same thing!

Now the fact that we are both daughters of a Vietnam Vet is a given considering that we were born in the same city, in the same hospital, on the same day to the same parents, we are clearly both daughters of a Vietnam Vet, and so is our big sister.

But let’s look at the rest of that statement.

We are both wives of vets of the First Gulf War.

Also true, since Konnie did not heed my warning and married a Navy guy even though I had been married to one for four years at that point and knew what a huge hassle it can be to be a military spouse and had told her so. That was her choice.

However, after that little tidbit, we get to the son of a Korean War vet part. And as much as our husbands have little in common other than falling in love with identical twins, this is surprising that we both married men whose fathers served in Korea when our own father served in Vietnam.

This is equally surprising because Konnie’s husband is only six months older than us and he’s the oldest child in his family, whereas my husband is not quite four years older than us, and he was the second born from his father’s second family.

Clearly, my father-in-law was a lot older when my husband was born than my father was when I was born. Don’t ask me the math on that, I have no idea. I do know he had two children from his first marriage, was briefly engaged to a woman who dumped him for someone else and then married the woman who eventually gave him six more children, the second of which was my husband.

Even without the failed marriage and the runaway fiancé, my husband was still his fourth child whereas I was my father’s, well, third, but the second one arrived a mere six minutes before me, and the first one was born only sixteen months before us. Let alone that Dad was only twenty at the time of our birth!

All this adds up to being weird that both Tom and Jerry are sons of Korean War vets.

And yes, their names are Tom and Jerry.

That’s another thing I warned Konnie about when she informed me, she was engaged.

Now let’s look at this rationally.

We have two men with vastly different backgrounds who happen to fall for identical twin sisters. Two men who also happen to be sons of Korean War vets, both of whom marry daughters of a Vietnam vet.

That seems pretty far-fetched to me right there, but I must point out that Tom is not quite four years older than Konnie and me, as his birthday is in August and ours is in July.

Please don’t make me do the math on Jerry and Tom. Jerry’s is exactly six months before ours. Other than that, I am not going to calculate it.

I can be precise on how much older Tom is from us. I know it exactly. He is exactly one month, two weeks, and five days shy of being four years older than us.

This, however, is not because I calculated it. No, that distinction goes to our big sister. Though she wasn’t calculating how much older Tom was than us. She was calculating how much older Konnie, and I were from our brother Bryon, who happens to have been born on Tom’s fifth birthday.

But let’s get back to Tom and Jerry.

So far what they have in common is Konnie and me, and their Korean War vet fathers. They are also members of our church. The similarity ends there because Tom didn’t serve a mission, but Jerry did. But then Konnie served a mission, and I didn’t.

Anyway, after all that they are as different as night and day.

Though I have to admit the biggest difference between them is their size.

Tom was exactly a foot taller than me.

Jerry on the other hand is lucky he found a woman shorter than him.

Their personalities are different too. So, I find it weird that they have anything in common at all beyond who they married and what church they attend.

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

Of Old and New Family Members by Konnie Enos

 My house has been a house full of pets since my kids were young. At the beginning of last year, we had a total of six dogs and a cat.

That number quickly dropped. Reeses and Tiger died the same weekend and devastated our family. Then a few months later Mabel finally succumbed after fighting liver problems for three years. Lastly, Hmwun went back to his first owner, a man Hmwun adores. He is old, lonely, and adores Hmwun too. (Jerry is still able to see him regularly.)

This left us with just Ivan, Gunner, and Xavier. All of which are solidly senior dogs. Ivan and Xavier probably have several years left but Gunner is already at the edge of his life expectancy and has liver issues (like Mabel).

After so much loss last year, we decided to hold off getting a new member of the family for a bit.

Well, now it’s well over a year after Reeses and Tiger died, and I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t ever want my house to be without our fur family members so eventually, we’ll have to get one, or two, or maybe more.

This has led me to consider what type of pet I want.

I considered getting a cat. Said cat would have to be fine with dogs. My issue would be the need for litter boxes and thereby cleaning them regularly. That being said, this cat person probably won’t be getting one anytime soon. I also rejected getting a caged animal of any kind because of the need to regularly clean said cages.

Dogs, on the other hand, while there is some necessity to clean up after them, it is not anything I specifically have to do. I could even hire someone to clean up the backyard if need be.

The issue with dogs is they come in all sizes with a variety of breed-specific traits. I therefore put some thought into what type of dogs I would consider.

I don’t want a large dog like Hmwun. He is large enough to look me directly in the eyes while still on all four paws. He is also very enthusiastic with his greetings. I did not relish the thought of someone that large knocking me over while attempting to be playful.

Gunner is only medium-sized. I can stand beside him and easily pet him without bending over. He is also a good 50 pounds and loves to climb in Melinda’s lap. I wouldn’t be comfortable with even a medium-sized dog attempting that with me.

Mabel was a smaller dog, but still over twenty pounds, which is also about the same size as Xavier. Having either one of them try to climb into my non-existent lap is too much.

Ivan, by contrast, is little, under 10 pounds. Plus, he loves to snuggle up to his person. For this reason, most of the breeds I’ve considered are smaller ones.

I’ve also looked into what traits each breed has. I know some dogs need to herd and others have more guarding tendencies. Some are super friendly with everyone while others tend to be aggressive with strangers. And, of course, all dogs have their personalities to go with any in-bred traits.

Outside of these considerations are the grooming needs of each breed.

Some breeds require daily brushing, regular bathing, and frequent nail and/or fur trimmings. Some breeds shed more than others. Understandably, I’d prefer one that didn’t need extensive grooming routines.

There is so much to consider.

Jerry, on the other hand, just wants a dog and he likes large ones. So now we have Lakota. A German Shepard-Pyrenees mix, an intelligent, guarding breed. She needs daily walks, regular brushing, and other extensive grooming measures.

So everything I didn’t want in a pet.

She adores Jerry and Melinda but will run from anyone with facial hair or a top knot. Our boys rarely shave and I keep my long hair corralled in a top knot most of the time.

Lakato will run from me if I try to feed her and she won’t get in my bed unless Jerry is nearby. She similarly avoids Royce and growled at Tony. Though, the funniest thing about her is how intelligent she is. On her very first night here she figured out that she couldn’t sleep anywhere in my path to the bathroom because I would come, often, day and night. It’s also funny to see her dashing under Jerry’s desk when I walk into the room.

She also follows Jerry everywhere. I used to have a little grey shadow (Mabel). Jerry now has a large white one (Lakota).

I’m still thinking about a dog, but one of the best breeds for me is Chihuahua. Ivan is the only one I’ve ever liked.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Christmas Shopping and Me

 

Last week Konnie wrote about finally starting her Christmas shopping and how she was four months behind. I would like to let you know that I am not that organized. You are lucky if I get my Christmas shopping done before Christmas Eve and I do most of it online because the stores are a madhouse in December, especially for those who need a mobility chart. Those are in short supply during peak shopping time right before Christmas which only goes to show I really should at least try to follow Konnie’s example.

She usually has all her shopping done by Thanksgiving! I on the other hand do my best to avoid any brick-and-mortar store on Black Friday and the day after Christmas because those two days are the ones most likely to be a madhouse.

And yes, I honestly avoid Black Friday sales. I always have. Just the idea of trying to shop when the store is that crowded makes me shiver. And I grew up in, and currently live in, a town most folks would call small. And I admit compared to places like Salt Lake, Tacoma Washington, or Norfolk Virginia, Pocatello is barely a spot on the map.

For the state of Idaho, it is one of our larger cities and a county seat.

Konnie has more cause to avoid the stores between Thanksgiving and New Years than I do because the crowds are considerably larger in Las Vegas than they are here.

That isn’t to say I haven’t lived in some of our larger cities. I have in fact lived in Tacoma Washington, Salt Lake City, and Norfolk Virginia. I have also visited Las Vegas at Christmas time. So, I can tell you the stores were more crowded than you could ever find here.

Though I have to admit, I never had a problem with Christmas crowds until I lived in Tacoma Washington. Nowhere in Idaho that I have ever lived could ever produce that volume of patrons for such an extended period. Boise maybe, but I’ve never lived there, and I really doubt it because Boise doesn’t even have near the population that these larger cities have.

And as I get older, I find large crowds disconcerting, mostly because the store may be out of mobility carts, and the potential of running into people trying to maneuver one of those carts in the crowded aisles.

It generally works to avoid shopping at peak hours. Around here that is around nine at night. I’m not always up to shopping that late. And not all the stores I shop at are open that late.

Then again, the one store I know for sure isn’t open that late, is also small, and rarely has more than one or two customers at a time when I go in. They also don’t have mobility carts, not that they need them, their store is pretty small.

Now in places like Walmart, Winco, and Fred Myers, it is infinitely easier to shop after nine at night. You won’t have to wait for a mobility cart.

However, if I were truly organized, I would make all my gifts. The only problem with that is I need to start in January to be able to manage that feat. Yeah, not happening.

I have managed to make a few of the gifts I’ve given. Others I found at the local Deseret Industries. They were nice things too! But, as much as I say I’m going to, I don’t manage to get my Christmas shopping, or making, done until the last minute. I should have my one of my characters do something instead of being super organized and always getting it done early like Konnie.

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

Of Slacking Off and Getting Gifts by Konnie Enos

I admit that I’ve been slacking. I have this one task I have been avoiding like you wouldn’t believe.

How am I avoiding it?

There are so many excuses.

Like that long list of handcrafts that I intended to make this year that are sitting beside me mostly untouched. The couple of projects I had attempted to start don’t even look like I’ve tried. If I finish any of them it’ll be a miracle.

Or I could get lost in reading a good book. After all, I did get a pile of brand-new books for Christmas. I also purchased a few others in the last few months of last year. I was excited to get all of them and have been looking forward to reading them. But my new physical books are stored with the rest of my books, untouched. I see my Kindle app every day, but I have not opened it. Not to read my new books or to finish reading the two or three other books I’ve started, but not finished.  

Of course, there is the rabbit hole known as Facebook, which has successfully sucked me in most days. But I’ve also figured out how to watch movies on Netflix, Paramount, and Disney+. I’ve finally seen Brave, Encanto, and Hidden Figures. I’ve also watched some old favorites such as Moana and both Princess Diaries movies. I’ve been disappointed to find that none of these sites offer movies older than about the late 80s unless it’s a remake. I wanted to watch Cheaper by the Dozen, Yours, Mine, and Ours, and The Parent Trap but had to jump through hoops to find the original versions. Because of this, it astounded me to find that the original version of The Absent-Minded Professor was available. I’m still hoping to find Cocoon, The Last Starfighter, Batteries Not Included, or even Follow Me Boys (I have this on DVD but don’t have the means to play it currently.)

I didn’t just watch movies. I’ve watched TV shows as well since Paramount has all the CBS shows, including old favorites that were off the air before I entered high school. (No, I have not watched them all, but they are available if I want to.)

There are also all the things I’ve been putting off as long as possible. Like the shredding that’s piling so high it’s about to spill all over the place. Yet, I have not shredded anything in months. Or the fact I didn’t update my checkbook register for over a month. Okay, so I neglected only one register, but it was the account we use the most. Yes, I’ve caught up now.

Of course, tax season is upon us, and I always take care of that as soon as I get the W-2s or 1099s, so early February at the latest. The fact that I didn’t even attempt to do taxes until the end of February and only submitted them a couple of weeks ago is telling.

Then there is my writing. You know, the one thing I usually avoid. I have been tweaking my fantasy for the last couple of months. Generally, by rewriting a scene or two until I get stuck on exactly how I want to fix it. I’ve made some nice changes and have been stuck on a scene for a week or so. Hopefully, I’ll figure it out soon.

My point is that I have been trying seriously hard to avoid one very unavoidable task. I know it needs done and that there is a time limit that is running out, but I have had no desire to deal with it. I’m not too far off. I usually start in late February or early March. But April is cutting it entirely too close.

My brain is stumbling over all the very real reasons delaying has the potential to make things difficult if there are any issues. And having been through all the mess and delays from the COVID shutdowns, they seem all that more real and possible.

What is this majorly important task that I have been avoiding?

Gift shopping.

Specifically, getting my son’s birthday gift, but also starting my Christmas shopping. How can I ever expect to finish by Halloween if I don’t get started on it by Valentine’s Day? I tell you. I’ll be lucky if I get it all done by Thanksgiving at this rate.

I have to get it done early so I can get them all wrapped by Thanksgiving. Partly because I don’t want to stress out through December, but mostly because I like being surprised. If I wrap them soon enough, I’ve completely forgotten what I got people until they open them.

Ah well, it’s started now.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Of Migraines and Pets

 

I just spent the last three days with a massive migraine, so this is the first time I’ve been on my computer in a few days. Maybe I should have written my post last week while I was working on my inventory of my Barbies and my books.

I finished the inventory of my Barbies, but not my books. That list isn’t complete yet. I also plan to do an inventory of my Nativities and other knickknacks, which will probably have to be done with pictures since there is such a large variety of them. Then again, I have a whole slew of pictures of my Barbies as well. I just haven’t put them in my inventory. Maybe I should.

Anyway, I am not working on all cylinders this morning thanks to being so out of it the last few days. And I should have spent some time writing or editing this last week, but I haven’t done that either.

Don’t ask me how Konnie is doing, about all know is Jerry got a new dog this last week. That isn’t big news considering how many animals Konnie and her family lost this past year. The number of animals in their house right now is less than in the past. I am just going to stick with Patches. I can’t afford to take care of more than just him. Pets can be expensive.

Though I admit to having fun putting pets in my stories. I have one scene where the hero’s dogs keep him from entering the room occupied by who he thought was a male, but he’d just learned was a female. Fun scene.

I do have dogs in another story but the only scene I have with them is the lead female discovering her stepchildren are afraid of dogs, something their father had never considered.

Animals can add a fun element to a story. I just wonder why I keep using dogs when I’m a cat person. I really should have a character with a cat or two, or more. I like the stories I’ve read with cats in them, I’ve just read more with dogs.

There are other pets a character could have too.

I have one where the hero’s family has a whole menagerie, but no cats. A dog, a parrot, a couple of parakeets, a couple of pygmy goats, and three Giant Welsh rabbits.

Well, they do have neighbors with a large variety of animals including cats, dogs, goats, and chickens, which does play into the story because they all have to evacuate because of a wildfire. And even still most of the animals I have in that story are dogs.

The lead female has a dog, and her best friend's brother has a dog. The hero's aunts and grandparents all have at least one dog each, and the family friends have a dog. That’s quite a few dogs and only a couple of cats.

I do have another story where the hero has a dog and during the story, they rescue a kitten from a storm drain. The lead female wants to keep the cat, which causes quite a scene because of his dog.

Those are the only two pets in that story, but I have a few nice scenes with them.

I have no idea why I have so few cats in my stories. I just use dogs more often. I know the first story I had any pets in, and I had it be dogs because they were guard dogs for the hero’s business. Cats wouldn’t have worked for that; I just don’t know why I haven’t had pets in other stories. Well, I do know for one of my stories. I didn’t give the title character a pet because she was too busy and had too much on her plate as it was.

Sometimes not having pets in the story is a good thing, other times they add an element of fun to the story. Though in the one with the wildfire, the pets haven’t added much of an element of fun so far, just mayhem.

Do you have pets? If so what kind? And do you put pets in your stories? Why or why not?

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

Of Late Nights and Big Frights by Konnie Enos

Recently something happened that resulted from a combination of things.

I think I’ve mentioned before that Melinda adheres to the old saying “early to bed, early to rise”. She is also extremely sensitive to noise and cannot sleep with lights on. I understand that last one because I found it difficult to sleep with lights on too.

Nobody else in the family goes to bed before ten so when she does, we shut off as many lights as possible, shut our doors, and limit the noise we make. We don’t do this merely to be nice to her. We do it to not “poke the bear”. She doesn’t hit, but she can completely chastise you if you wake her up. Let me tell you, you know you’ve been chewed out even if all she does and glare and slam a door.

Also, because of her noise sensitivity and household arguments about what people were watching/listening to, we mandated that everyone must listen with headphones unless everyone else in hearing range agreed with whatever was being played, be it a song, show, or game. With Melinda, hearing range includes anywhere within our house, even with the doors closed.

These two traits are indications of her neurodiversity.

Royce is not nearly as sensitive to sound, and he prefers to be awake at night. At night, he will generally run in the backyard. He also insists on long-sleeved shirts and long pants. His favorite color is black.

These are indications of his neurodiversity.

One thing about me is I cannot sleep with the light on. If Jerry is still awake when I go to bed, I put on my sleep mask. I also cannot have lights suddenly turned on, even if I am awake at the time. It’ll give me a headache. Yes, I have yelled at more than one family member because they flipped on a light without warning me. Usually Jerry.

I should also add that if Jerry goes to sleep before I do, I generally turn out any lights I don’t need so the room is dark enough to sleep. If I go to bed first, I wear my sleep mask.

So now the event of a few days ago.

It was later in the evening. Melinda was long since in bed. I couldn’t hear Royce running in the backyard or moving about in the front room. I assumed he was at least on his tech, if not asleep too. Jerry was snoring beside me. Not being tired yet, I decided to watch an episode of a show I like online.

With that in mind, I logged onto my computer and the necessary site. I then made sure the lights were all out and I had my headphones on.

My nice over-the-ear headphones that make it somewhere between difficult and impossible for me to hear outside noises. Headphones that I often have off of one ear during the day if I’m listening to something, so I don’t miss anything.

Now, the show I chose to watch sitting in a dark room with all other sounds cut off was a crime drama. I can feel Jerry sleeping beside me, know Melinda’s asleep, and cannot hear if Royce is even awake. Though, since I hadn’t heard Royce before I put them on, I assume I’m the only one up.

Just as I get to a rather tense scene. You know the ones where the music lets you know something scary is going to happen. Someone touched my left hand.

I kid you not. I jumped. Jerry is on my right. I look up and cannot see anyone in the dark room. I know from experience throwing my headphones off will take my glasses with it and I was positive I didn’t want to be blind at that moment. With one hand I shoved my headphones off an ear while with the other I reached for my reading light.

Taking the headphones off allowed me to hear Royce calling me. Turning on my light helped me to see him in all his dark clothes.

And yes, he did tell me he tried a couple of times to get my attention before he touched me. But he did not yell so as not to incur Melinda’s wrath and he did not turn on the light not wanting me to yell at him. Probably because my yelling would have invoked Melinda’s ire. She’d also be intelligent enough to figure out he was the one who started it. In other words, he would have gotten it twice.

I’d tell you why he needed my attention at that hour but as I said it was a few days ago and I honestly can’t remember.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

St. Patrick's Day and Other Holidays by Bonnie Le Hamilton

In four days, it will be St. Patrick’s Day. I’m also informed, thanks to social media, that the holy periods of Lent and Ramadan are going on right now, with Palm Sunday on the 24^th and Easter on the 31^st.

All of this got me thinking about holiday traditions and which ones we, or our characters, follow. I know I have touched on traditions concerning big holidays like Independence Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, but what about the others?

I don’t know about schools today, but when I was a kid, St. Patrick’s Day was a big deal, mostly because of pinching anyone not wearing green. I have previously mentioned my cousin who was vicious with his pinches back then.

Anyway, on St. Patrick’s Day, I always try to remember to wear green.

In my husband’s family, their tradition was to have corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day, which is something my family never did, but now I do it every year. This year as usual you will find me at my sister-in-law’s place having corned beef and cabbage.

When it comes to Ramadan, of course, we don’t celebrate that, but we also never celebrated Lent. Growing up, Lent was just lighting a candle on each of the four Sundays before Easter, and the one we lit on Easter was white while the rest were green.

I was an adult before I learned some people give up stuff during Lent, but that is as far as it goes for me. Now Easter is a big deal. It's as big as Christmas really. But even still, it isn’t like it was when we were kids and everyone showed up at church in their new spring outfits complete with hats, gloves, and little purses. I hated those hats.

We still dress up for Easter, but then we try to dress up for every Sabbath day. Easter is on Sunday.

Other Easter traditions are the Easter egg hunt and Easter baskets, and way too much candy!

In our church, it is more about reading about the Resurrection of Christ than all those treats, just like we try to make Christmas more about the birth of Christ. However, I admit it is harder to find décor about the Resurrection of Christ than it is to find décor depicting the birth of Christ. Explaining why I have so many Nativities and only one “He is Risen” knickknack. I wish I had more. Though I do have a couple Gethsemane statues. Gethsemane had to happen before the tomb could be found empty! That’s important too.

But what about in our stories? Do we ever use some of these holidays in them?

I know I have used April Fool’s Day at least once, which is the day after Easter this year, but I don’t think I’ve ever done much about St. Patrick’s Day. Have you?

As far as stories go, I know Blue Bloods usually does something about St. Patrick’s Day, but that is a bigger deal in New York or Chicago. Wasn’t it the Chicago St. Patrick’s Day parade that The Fugitive got lost in?

But how about in small-town America? What kind of things would they do?

I know we never had a parade on St. Patrick’s Day, but it is usually still pretty cold on St. Patrick’s Day, I’m surprised New York and Chicago have parades for it, then again, New York has their big parade on Thanksgiving every year, which is pretty darn cold.

Around here, it is normally a white Thanksgiving.

Though if you are making up a town, or using a small town that never did much for the holiday, what would that be?

Or would it be mentioned at all?

I’m sure in Sci-Fi the likelihood of them celebrating St. Patrick’s Day is pretty slim, the same in Fantasy, but what holidays would they celebrate? What would that look like? What is the tradition for it? Is the tradition different for separate groups?

I should consider this for my Sci-Fi because what sort of culture doesn’t have holidays? For my speculative fiction, I don’t think any of our holidays are mentioned specifically, but it does occur in late spring, right before high school graduation for some of the characters. And that is in the story.

But most of what I write is romance, and I have no idea why I don’t mention St. Patrick’s Day in any of them. I clearly could have in the one where I mention April Fool’s Day because the female lead’s little brothers would make a big deal out of that too! And I do not know why I didn’t at least mention it in passing.

Anyway, happy writing everyone! And Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

 

Of Weather and Differences by Konnie Enos

Time is flying this year. Here it is already March and like the old saying it came in like a lion, roaring. This past weekend we got what the weather reports were calling a Winter storm. But around here, that doesn’t mean snow.

What we got was intense winds, blowing things around and downing some trees, or at least taking some branches off them. My daughter said she thought the wind had blown a branch off of our tree because there was one lying under it. Though it’s not something you’d notice on our massive tree. I wasn’t concerned about it. It was planted nineteen years ago, and it’s supposed to have roots that go extra deep and long. I think it’d take tornado-strength winds to pull it out of the ground.

The power company warned us about power outages but all we got was one short one on Saturday morning. Long enough for us to notice the power went off, but not long enough to start worrying about issues from its loss. I don’t think it was out for five minutes.

By Monday, things had calmed down around here. We still have some wind, but it’s quieter. The sun’s out, we have blue skies. The weather report predicts temperatures hitting the low 70s this week.

Monday is also the day I read headlines about the major blizzard hitting Northern California and into Northern Nevada. Specifically, around the Tahoe and Reno areas. They got socked in.

My son, Tony, is working in Northern Nevada so I was happy when he called. I asked him how the weather was up there and how he was faring.

He mentioned that his bosses had shut down his job site on Saturday because of the weather and the fact they had more snow and ice. He didn’t mention any power outages or other issues with the weather though his call was about him needing a ride to come to Las Vegas today. Jerry, of course, willingly drove up to get him last night, though Tony had some warnings about the road conditions up there.

Now, having grown up in Idaho, I’m a bit familiar with the weather there and I knew that by March the snow is at least starting to melt, if not mostly gone. And while there might still be snow around, the roads are clear. But March tends to roar in like a lion so lots of wind. Prime weather for some kite flying, as I remember.

I didn’t see Idaho’s weather reports, so I assumed they were just seeing typical March winds and maybe some rain. Then learning about the blizzard, I thought they may have gotten some snow from it. Though being March already, and not seeing any headlines about them getting a storm too, I assumed it wasn’t more than a light snow, something that could melt off in a day.

Since this was Monday, and I had plans for the evening, I was contemplating if I’d even need a jacket and the possibility of digging my sandals out rather than wearing my tennis shoes for the evening when Bonnie surprised me by calling.

I very nearly panicked.

It was the middle of the workday! And unlike me, she has a job. Plus, she never calls in the middle of the day.

So, my first response when I picked up the phone was, “What’s wrong?”

 Her first sentence was bemoaning the fact that the snow was up to the bumper of her car, which is an SUV! Apparently, because of the slope of her driveway and the depth of the newly fallen snow, she couldn’t get out.

I’m thinking about the nice spring weather, and she’s snowed in! Not only that, but her anticipated company wouldn’t be able to get to her place because of it. (The slope of her driveway is at least half the problem.)

Talk about March coming in like a lion.

Then, after we’d hung up, I had to laugh about the differences in our lives. From the extreme differences in our weather to the differences in our living conditions. Her only companion is her cat while I live with most of my kids, my husband, and some dogs.

Of course, she also had tons of friends, not to mention family nearby, and she lives in the small town we grew up in. I live in a huge city with no family nearby and, as usual, I don’t have as many friends.

Though we still have our similarities. Saturday, Melinda was French braiding my hair and commented on my extreme lack of gray hair. Yes, I have some, as does Bonnie, but at nearly 62 years old, it’s not much.

And, as of yesterday, Dictionary (as we affectionately call her) is 63.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

A Rose By Any Other Name by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

 

I recently skimmed an article on a study about children with unusual or unpopular names. And it got me thinking about a lot of things.

My first thought was the fight we had with Dad when our youngest brother was born. I can’t remember the name he wanted to give Dan, but I do remember telling Dad, “He’s going to get teased enough as it is because of our last name!”

By the way, our maiden name is Westover. We got teased a lot for that.

That may be the only time teenagers have ever backed up their stepmother, but I’m sure Dan is glad we prevailed!

The article I scanned also mentioned the more recent penchant for parents to “creatively” spell their children’s names, which got me thinking about the “creative” spelling of our names.

I know that our mother got our oldest sister’s full first name off the headlines when she was born. Dictionary, otherwise known as Jacki, was born in March of ’61. Guess who was in the headlines back then. Our big sister always preferred Jackie over the longer version, but eventually, she dropped that “e,” making her name Jacki.

As kids, she was Jackie, and that is a common spelling. She never had problems with her name. I also never really had any problems when I stuck with Bonnie, but there were clear issues with my middle name, and that blasted “e” our father decided to exclude from my birth certificate.

Konnie and Bryon had significant issues.

As you can see from all our posts, her name is Konnie, not Connie. But while people sometimes misspelled her name, no one ever tried to tell her she was spelling it wrong; at least not that I can remember.

Bryon on the other hand did experience an issue with the spelling of his name. When he was in fifth grade and Konnie and I were in sixth grade we went to a school where the fifth and sixth grades were combined in the mornings and split in the afternoon, and well the fifth-grade teacher kept insisting on calling him “Byron.” When we told her that his name is pronounced Brian, she told us he was spelling his name wrong.

We tried to tell her he wasn’t, but she wouldn’t listen, if his name is Brian, it should be spelled B-r-i-a-n not B-r-y-o-n. Please note that the “r” is before the “y” in his name, so she mispronounced his name, but she wouldn’t listen to that argument either.

We gave up until we had a chance to tell our mother what was going on.

She resorted to taking all three of our birth certificates to the school the first chance she got and cussing the principal and that teacher out.

By the way, none of our names are spelled wrong. All three of us were named after family friends. Our first names are spelled just like who we were named after. The only “creative” spelling is when Dad dropped that dang “e” from both mine and Konnie’s middle names.

Nowadays, the creative spelling you come across can be so bad, that it is sometimes hard to figure out how it is supposed to be pronounced.

Not too long ago I embraced this trend by giving a character in one of my WIPs a creatively spelled name, but I also gave her a simple, conventionally spelled, nickname.

I do have a point in my story where the hero wonders what her full first name is because on the first day of school that year (her first in that district), all the teachers stumbled over her name and then asked her how to pronounce it. In each instance, she responded, “Just call me Wren.”

Anyway, what I got from my cursory glance at the article was that kids with unusual or unpopular names are less likely to be successful and more likely to be teased and or shunned.

And yes, I can see anyone named something like Adolf being shunned, but mostly kids just teased, and I don’t see how that teasing adversely affected me.

Though I assure you, I will always insist that parents think of their children, and how they may get teased when naming them.

Anyway, have you used “creative” spelling in your character names, or given your characters unpopular names?

What are some of your strategies for naming characters? Do you set different rules for different stories?

In one of mine, all the girls in the female lead’s family are named after flowers, so I had to give them flower names. In another story, I set up rules about the last names of a colony of aliens.

Happy writing everyone.

Apologizes By Konnie Enos

 Here it is Wednesday morning, and I haven’t got an idea in my head. All I can think about is how I didn’t get much sleep last night because I know I was tossing all night. That and I’m not completely awake now.

Racking my brain for an hour just to formulate a few words isn’t working so I’m going to have to apologize to our readers for not getting a post up this week. I’m afraid writing, well anything, is right up there with filing my taxes. I know I should do it, but I can’t bring myself to focus on it.

Even with my total lack of ideas, I also know it’s important to keep our readers apprised of the situation, so they don’t feel like everything is off-kilter in their routine. I read a blog every Tuesday, only it hasn’t been updating on its normal schedule lately. So, I personally understand that off-kilter experience.

Seeing that I fell asleep sitting here trying to come up with yet one more thing to make this post longer, I’m giving up and trying to get some more sleep. Though between the sun being up and family members moving about the house, which includes my daughter who is cooking her breakfast now, I’m sure it’ll be too noisy here for that to work for long.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Sleep Apnea and Other Issues by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I’m sure I mentioned that my cat has taken to waking me up in the middle of the night. For a while there I thought I would never get a decent night’s sleep again.

But one night I was having trouble getting comfortable and I ended up sleeping propped up in more of a sitting position. And Patches didn’t jump on me once that night! That isn’t to say he didn’t wake me up; he did, right around the time he decided he needed his breakfast.

Here is the difference; three or four times a night, he had been jumping onto me from my desk. Once in the pre-dawn hours, he would crawl onto me meowing and pushing his nose into my nose. He is still doing that. If I sleep in a more inclined position, he doesn’t jump on me.

Problem solved, right?

Around this time, I kept waking up with a headache, and I always seemed tired. I finally decided I needed to revisit the idea of a sleep study.

I wasn’t looking forward to this, because I’d tried it once before years ago while Tom was still alive. I didn’t sleep one wink hooked up to all those cables. Now though they can do the study with fewer cables and it is possible to do it at home.

It took some doing, and getting the appointment to get the device took some time, but I finally got the sleep study done.

They were slow to contact me about the results, but they finally called to set up an appointment for me to come in and learn the results.

So I went to the appointment, and the professional I talked to informed me that I stopped breathing three times that night!

Patches jumped on me three times that night!

Yeah, that’s right. Patches jumps on me when I stop breathing.

I did mention that he doesn’t jump on me when I sleep propped up, and she said that made sense, and suggested I do that until all the red tape is cut and I get a C-PAP machine.

At least Patches doesn’t wake me up as often that way.

In other news, I have been having a ton of financial issues these past several months, mostly due to how many days I missed work due to not getting enough sleep the night before. But it hadn’t been just that.

I missed several days because I put one or both knees out and I couldn’t walk. I missed at least one day because my blood sugar went sky-high on me. When my neighbor came to check on me, she thought what I needed was orange juice.

FYI, orange juice or candy is used when the blood sugar is too low; when it is too high, avoid carbs altogether and have protein.

Also, when it is too low, you are dizzy, faint, and woozy; when it is too high, you have dry heaves and you are sweaty, maybe also dizzy. There is a difference. I promise giving someone carbs or sugar in this case would only make matters worse.

Now my financial issues aren’t as easy to handle, though things are looking up. I paid off one credit card in December thanks to a generous gift from some friends. I paid off another bill last month, which was a big help because it was the highest monthly payment I had. And I am working on not missing so much work.

Of course, that is the hard part. I am still having issues with sleep. I don’t just have sleep apnea; I also have insomnia issues.

It turns out I am on the spectrum, and insomnia is a common problem for those of us on the spectrum. And here I just thought it was a family problem. Dad and our brother Bryon had problems with it too.

Has anybody mentioned that Autism most likely has a genetic component? And yes, they have.

The myth that it is caused by vaccines is bunk, but it is a fact that it is often hereditary.

By the way, I only received one vaccine as a kid, and I was displaying what is now known as clear signs of Autism long before grade school. And I know I have mentioned all my stims before.

Now I am wondering why I don’t write a character that is on the spectrum. That is certainly something I do know. And I might just do it eventually, or I might add some detail to an already existing character to make that person on the spectrum.

I’m thinking I should make the character female to help spread the work that isn’t a male-only problem.

Anyway, happy writing everyone! 

Rainy Days, Achy Joints, and Muses by Konnie Enos

 

Monday morning, I woke up craving pancakes. Now since I am diabetic, I don’t have pancakes very often. It had been months since the last time so I decided it would be okay to have some that day.

Now most people nowadays get their pancakes by ordering them at the nearest restaurant (fast food place) that serves them. Or they get a package of Eggos or Bisquick, whichever one they feel they have the time and energy for.

Me? I got out the recipe book and started gathering ingredients. Flour, sugar, salt, etcetera. I didn’t even get out a mixer but stirred them by hand.

When it came time to cook them my daughter and I discussed which pan we would use. Our largest frying pan is my cast iron. It’s only about ten years old so we still season it regularly. My daughter keeps it in pristine condition. It was already on the stove, so I just used that.

Once it was warmed up and prepped for cooking, I poured four nice round pancakes into the pan. While they cooked, I set about getting some eggs cooked to go with my pancakes.

Then I went to turn my four beautiful pancakes.

They stuck horribly. In the middle of trying to flip them, I realized I’d been standing too long. I had to sit down, and Melinda had to help me rescue the stuck pancakes. I found another pan to cook the rest of them in.

The pancakes turned out fine, though those first four were a mess. And if you are wondering, I only ate two, and both without syrup.

What wasn’t fine was my back.

Normally, when I stand for too long, I would sit, and rest, for roughly at least as long as I’d been standing to give my back a rest. That didn’t work on Monday.

After I’d eaten, I went to my bed where I could be more comfortable.

While I was sitting there, I was fine, but the minute I had to get up I could feel it. In my back and hips, even my knees. I didn’t just strain my back. My arthritis was acting up. Going to the bathroom, which isn’t that far from my bed, I was a stooped-over, little old lady, unable to straighten up all the way. I wasn’t in excruciating pain. Just enough to know I didn’t want to move much or far.

So, I was sitting in my bed, complaining about aching joints and being unable to walk when my husband mentioned that his arthritic shoulder was hurting. It was then I began to suspect that my issues were more than just strained my back. So, I talked to my son, who also has arthritis, how he was doing. He loves to complain so he had no problem mentioning that his feet hurt more than usual. I’m sure we weren’t the only people feeling the shift in the weather in our joints.

Once I realized I was miserable and in no mood to get out of bed, I remembered that Jerry and I had plans for the evening. Going out in the rain is one thing, but doing so when you hurt just trying to move? Yeah, not fun.

I opted to stay home and rest instead. And I did feel somewhat better on Tuesday. Not perfect. I still had some joint pain, but I could walk normally. The rain is supposed to let up after today so hopefully my remaining aches will let up soon.

On the bright side, somehow through all of this, I managed to spark my muse enough to at least work on my fantasy for a few hours. Mostly, I just read and edited the first eight chapters, but I have some ideas for fixing some things going forward now.

Though, those weren’t my only options for spending a lazy day in bed.

I could have worked on a couple of cross-stitches I have. There is also the fact I have crochet hooks, knitting needles, and knitting looms with enough skeins of yarn to keep me busy producing useful things for months.

Or I could have just picked up a good book, or two. I have piles of them including the nine new ones I got for Christmas and have yet to even crack the binding.

I didn’t do any of that. What I did was get lost down the rabbit hole. Somehow, whenever I open Facebook, I manage to think I’ve only been on for a few minutes when it’s been hours.

I don’t suppose I’m the only one who spends too much time on social media.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.