I Almost Forgot!!!

Happy Birthday Denise!!










Please visit today's post below as Brandy has asked me a question that I can't answer. Wipe that surprised look of your face.

So You Think You Hate Your Job

Well the party is over, the friviloty done, games played and alcohol consumed, and I'm still standing. Not too steady, mind you, but standing. Actually, I'm sitting, but lets not get technical. I am finishing my third margarita as I'm doing this. First I must tell you that I am a cheap drunk. Why? Because I don't drink a lot, so even one margarita will give me a buzz. Since I started out with Jose Cuervo (Sp?), I think that alone constitutes two of my regular Seagrams. But I had to have two margaritas on Susan, so I'm only finishing her second. Does that make sense? 1 Jose Cuervos and 2 Seagrams. Anyway, before I go on to my planned cut and paste (because I'm not sure any blog I do right now will make much sense) I must tell you about one game we played. If you have visited Raine, Susan or Daisy in the last day or so you will have noticed a, shall I say, weird thing happening. We've been doing TV Theme songs. The game we started out with was Encore. If you're not familiar with it - you just have to sing a line from a song that contains a chosen word based on colored squares or a category - like months, cities, etc. One of the categories that was drawn was - yes, you guessed it - TV Theme Songs! I did quite well, thank you very much.

I am going to sleep most of the morning and then Bebo and I are going to watch Tristan and Isolde, I think. Anyway, here's something to amuse you ... or not, whichever because I'm drinking margaritas and everything is funny.

When you have a "I Hate My Job" day, try this: On your way home from work, stop at your pharmacy and go to the Thermometer section and purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson and Johnson. Be very sure you get this brand. When you get home, lock your doors, draw the curtains and disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed. Change into very comfortable clothing and sit in your favorite chair, open the package and remove the thermometer. Now, carefully place it on a table or a surface so that it will not become chipped or broken. Now the fun part begins. Take out the literature and read it carefully. You will notice that in small print there is a statement, "Every rectal thermometer made by Johnson and Johnson is personally tested." Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times, I am so glad I do not work for quality control at Johnson and Johnson." HAVE A NICE DAY AND REMEMBER, THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE ELSE WITH A JOB THAT IS WORSE THAN YOURS.

Spamarama

Don't forget the book giveaway - check yesterday's post.

Since I didn't get to see Hugh Jackman tonight (we have thunderstorms and tornadoes around us - like that's more important than Hugh Jackman), I had to amuse myself (Hey, don't go there you perv). If you didn't read the original Spamalot (and why not?), then you probably need to go to previous posts and read it first, there's some references here that won't make a lot of sense otherwise. Come to think of it, they might not make any sense anyway. As before, these are actual spam subjects that come into my inbox - and my comments are in bold. So here I proudly present: Spamarama!

But first, a bit of inspiration.

Now I'm ready:

HOW ARE YOU? (FINE HOW ARE YOU?)
Is easier this time (It wasn’t so hard the first time)
Don’t pay attention to this email! (Don’t worry, I won’t)
Local mystery shoppers – check for availability (Why would I want a mystery shopper. I want to know who’s shopping for me)
Won friend (Awww, thank you. I needed another one)
Blonde detectives (Like this needs a comment from me?)
A man with a small penis is like a butterfly without wings. (Are we back to the butterflies)
Good VALtUhM (Looks like it. Can you share?)
I’ve got a solution for you. (The valium would work just fine, thank you)
Punch line. (How did you know? Have you been paying attention?)
There’s (What? Don’t leave me like that. There’s what?)
Loiter (I beg your pardon. You came to my inbox. I didn’t come to yours. You loiter)
Ladies inside your region (Hey wait a minute. There’s no ladies in my region. I checked this morning)
Don’t be not gratified once again. (That’s because I keep hanging out with butterflies)
Dog fight (cat fight. I win)
You heard? (what? Who’s been talking? If they’re nekkid, those are my muses and they don’t know anything. Got it?)
You always wanted to use your penis as a billiards cue. (Once again I have to ask. Why?)
Vida Guerra is in your neighborhood. (Probably heard I had ladies in my region)
Let’s keep in touch. (Lets not. We’ll both be happier.)
Your neighbors lost their alarm clock. (Again? That’s not my job)
Wanna look like a rich guy? (Depends. Which one?)
The world will wobble when General Viagra takes effect! (I think someone has had too much valium)
How everything goin (Everything’s goin fine. How’s it goin with you?)
Isn’t it time? (I don’t know. Ask the neighbors. *Snort*)

So, How was Your Thursday Night?

Mine was just fine, thank you. From 5:00 when I clocked in at work, until about 6:30, I was having a good ol' time. Then my co-worker came up to the front of the store. "I just got sick, who do I call?" (stomach busters)
"Um, this is just a guess, but maybe the boss?"
So he gets off the phone and says "He told me to go home."
I just look at him. "And?"
He grabs his stomach and gives me a pained look. "Just to go on home."
Did I mention that I'm getting a little close to the big 50, and that maybe my hearing is getting a little bad? "Did he happen to mention who was coming in?"
"No, he said you would be fine by yourself."
Now, you can't really see my face, but just imagine it getting very pale. Not that I can't manage the store by myself for 2 1/2 hours. It's that, well it would be dark soon and we're in the older part of town ... beginning to see my point? "Nobody's coming in to replace you?"
He felt really bad, but there wasn't anything he could do at this point. So I was on my own. Like I said, running the store at night is a breeze - not a lot of customers yet (during the heat of the summer we'll get more customers at night). In fact, not one customer after 8:00. And I only had to lock the store for a potty break once. Then it was time to leave. I turned off the lights and headed for the back door - stopping at the bathroom once more before leaving. That's when I remembered that I hadn't turned the store sign to closed. So I walked through the dimly lit back area to the circuit breakers and turned on one of the lights for the front of the store and heading up there through the gloom. Things popped, the building creaked. Did I tell you that there is a store ghost? There is. Sometimes books will fly offf the shelf all by themselves. Anyway, I felt as if I were being watched the entire time. It was not a pleasant feeling. Turned the sign and headed back to the exit. Called Bebo before I opened the back door so she could talk to me while I walked through the dark, empty parking lot to my car. Did I mention that this store is in the older part of the town? So that was my night at work. How was your Thursday evening?

Book Draw:

Just tell me what book you would like and I'll draw a name this Sunday. What the hell - I'll draw two names.

Jill Shalvis:

Bared (Blaze)
Luke (Temptation)
The Bachelor's Bed (Temptation)
Hiding Out at the Circle C (Marry Me Cowboy)
Tangling with Ty (Temptation)
Roughing it with Ryan (Temptation)
Paris or Bust (Anthology with Katie Hoffman and Jacqueline Diamond)
Dare Me (Anthology with Cherry Adair and Julie Elizabeth Leto)
Beach Blanket Bad Boys (Anthology with Linda Lael Miller, Alison Kent, Lucy Monroe, Susanna Carr and Morgan Leigh)

Bad Boys Anthologies:

Bad Boys to Go (Lori Foster, Janelle Denison and Nancy Warren)
I Brake for Bad Boys (Lori Foster, Janelle Denison and Shannon McKenna)
Bad Boys on Board (Lori Foster, Donna Kauffman and Nancy Warren)
Bad Boys in Black Tie (Lori Foster, Erin McCarthy and Morgan Leigh)

Contemporary:

Riley by Lori Foster (Temptation)
Getting Rid of Bradley by Jennifer Crusie (Temptation)
Blame it on Chocolate by Jennifer Greene
The Model man by Genie Davis
Good Girls Don't by Kelley St. John
Perfect for the Beach (Anthology: Lori Foster, Janelle Denison, Erin McCarthy, Mary Janice Davidson, Kayla Perrin and Morgan Leigh)

Romantic Suspense:

Don't Say a Word by Barbara Freethy
Half Past Dead by Meryl Sawyer
Heartbeats by Susan Rae
Double Play by Penelope Neri

Fantasy/Paranormal:

The Star Witch by Linda Winstead Jones
Heart Choice by Robin D. Owens
The Last Bride by Sandra Landry
Unleash the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Here and There

Stuck for a blog today, so thought I'd just send you to a couple of places.

I got this from Kelly Parra's blog. I am totally psyched about this book. I've never read anything by Anne Frasier, but I want this book. It's called Pale Immortal and is due out in September 5, Onyx Books and Penguin/NAL. I'm planning to look for other books by this author. You really need to go check out the site for Pale Immortal - there's a really chilling video/trailer promo. I've never seen anything like this for a book before and I think its a wild idea. Very professional. Come back and tell me what you think.

Jason's fiction contest is almost over - you have until 8:00 p.m. eastern time tonight. Go over and read the entries, there's some good stuff there - including Scott's entry.

Jordan has some interesting information from the Desert Dreams Conference - there are two posts so check them both out.


Oh, and great news from The Shalvis. Her book Seeing Red has been nominated for a National Reader's Choice Award in the single title category. WTG Jill!

That's it - don't forget that Friday is book draw day.

Reluctant Reunion word count: 8,652
Tonights word count: 1,089
Good nights sleep: Huh?

It's All Weirdness

Rene tagged me, so here goes. Although it was pretty hard to narrow down my weirdness to only 6 things.

Six Weird Things About Me

1. I avoid highways at all cost. I know the backroads to almost anywhere and if I can't get there without going on a highway I pretty much avoid going. I also don't like to make a left turn across four lanes of traffic - will even go a block or so out of the way to find a light to turn at.

2. According to Rene's bloggers, this isn't that strange, but there are some who might find it weird anyway. I like the dishwasher arranged in a certain way. My way.

3. I like spaghetti, will eat hamburger pizza but hate hamburger in my lasagna.

4. I eat cottage cheese in my pot pies. Yes, stirred in like mush.

5. I can read a paragraph about a TV show or movie and remember it just about forever. And if I can't, I will not rest until I find the answer. And often, when an actor/actress comes on the screen I will give you their entire resume.

6. When I open a bag of chips, I will only eat the whole chips and ignore the pieces - but that's mostly because I only eat them with Borden Onion dip and it's hard to dip pieces.

I'm tagging:

1. Jo Leigh (because she whined)
2. Kate Hardy (because she's not focused enough yet)
and the last two because I would just love to see these answers:

Raine Weaver and Cece Stuart

Reluctant Reunion word count: 7,563
Last night's word count: 1,386
Two broken nails: priceless

UPDATE: Sandy already tagged Cece, so I'm adding Lis in her place.

I Have a Point

I have fingernails. Wait, don't just sit there looking at your monitors and thinking Yeah Eve, we all have fingernails. You've finally lost it. I have a point and if you would just bear with me I'll get to it in my own roundabout way. So I was sitting there Saturday (there being work) and looking at my hands because it was a lot better than looking at the wall of books I had to put away. Anyhoo, if I turn my hand palm up, I can see my nails sticking out beyond the ends of my fingers (no, this isn't a drug flashback of any kind). This doesn't happen very often - well, my sitting on the stool at work happens quite a bit, but the nail thing doesn't. You see, my nails are thin and fragile - they break fairly easily. Now, I'm going to digress for a moment, but then you'll see how I can quite brilliantly bring these two points together. Ready? If you've been following my blogs you'll know that I have arthritis in my hands, so holding a pencil/pen for any length of time can be quite excruciating. So I don't do longhand. I write only at the computer. Here it goes - ready for this? My nails are getting long because I'm not typing, I'm not writing. I haven't written in a few weeks (the Devlin thing, you know). See, disbelievers, there was a point to the nails story. Okay Eve, you are brilliant, but why are you telling us this? Bet you thought I couldn't read your minds, didn't you? I have a question. What is there in your life, excluding agents, word counts, etc., that tells you that you haven't been writing. An inner itch, a voice yelling in your head? What? Not that I'm curious or anything.

Oh, and for you non-writers: Apply the same question to something in your life that you are passionate about.

Round Robin

For you writers - don't forget to go check out Jason's "Two Lights" short-fiction contest.

Okay, some of you know what this is - to the others: I start the story, you keep it going. You only have to write at least a sentence - more if you're feeling prolific. Come on - even you "readers" can write a sentence. Have fun.

Ginger hugged the wall as she made her way carefully down the hall. The suffocating darkness surrounded her as she mentally counted her steps, desperately hoping to avoid running into the wall at the turn leading to the stairs. Around her the house was quiet, its occupants lost to their dreams, and Ginger intended to keep it that way. Damn, was that 19 or 20? She'd lost count, allowing her mind to drift to that night's events, something she couldn't afford to do right now. Taking a deep breath, she slowly reached out into the blackness, feet carefully shuffling on the hardwood floor so as not to make a noise. Where's that floorboard? She knew that about 3 steps from the wall was a loose board, the first of many obstacles she faced between the turn and the stairs.

Trixie Beldon

Remember her? I know Sandy does, and Cece too. Tanya didn't know who she was, so I thought I'd introduce her. When I started reading mysteries, I began with Meg. I know, no one probably know about her - I don't remember much except that she was a little girl around 9 I think. Her books are out of print. Anyway, after Meg I wasn't quite ready for Nancy Drew, but there was Trixie who was about 14 when the series began and then grew to be about 15 when they were finished. Just the right age. She was cool. Trixie and her brothers Brian and Mart, along with friends Jim, Honey, Diana and Dan, belonged to a club named the Bob-Whites. They did "good" deeds along with solving the occasional mystery. The books I read came out in the 60s and may seem somewhat dated to today's kids (but so did Nancy Drew when I began reading them), but they are wonderful stories and have been recently reprinted. I'd suggest checking them out. Here's another link about Trixie Beldon.

How Many?

Stole this from Meretta. This is how the game works...The person before you has asked a How many ??? question. You answer the question in the comments and then ask your own How many ??? question. The next person to come along answers that question and then gets to ask their own How many ??? question...and so on and so on. Be sure to come back later and answer your question. Since I'm at work, this will give you something to amuse yourselves while I'm gone.

I'll go first and make it a little easy (easy only if you've been paying attention)

How many hours do I work on Saturday?

Child Rearing FAQ

Q: Should I have a baby after 35?
A: No, 35 children is enough.

Q: I'm two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?
A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q: How will I know if my vomiting is morning sickness or the flu?
A: If it's the flu, you'll get better.

Q: What is the most common pregnancy craving?
A: For men to be the ones who get pregnant.

Q: What is the most reliable method to determine a baby's sex?
A: Childbirth.

Q: The more pregnant I get, the more often strangers smile at me. Why?
A: 'Cause you're fatter than they are.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she's borderline irrational.
A: So what's your question?

Q: What's the difference between a nine-month pregnant woman and a model?
A: Nothing (if the pregnant woman's husband knows what's good for him).


I tried to write something deep and profound but my minds in that Thursday night mode of being tired but not ready to settle down, nothing is working right. So I dived into my humor pile to amuse you once again.

Jog on over to Jason's blog, he has a great contest going on.

Untitled

Just a forgotten WIP that I pulled out of the files - unedited and raw, but one of many forgotten first chapters.

L’Amoreaux sat on the bluff overlooking the Sabine River just as it had for over 150 years. Generations of the St Jacques family had lived there, died there, buried in the family cemetery on the edge of the property. Even those who had left came back upon death to be buried there on the hill. No one really left l’Amoreaux, no one could ever escape. Even now, with the death of its last occupant, the house waited for its new arrival, a new soul to feed upon. Death waited at l’Amoreaux.

Chapter One
It was a foggy dew morning, the kind when drops glittered on the edge of nature and the wetness stole into your bones. The man inhaled deeply, let the breath out to mingle with the gray mist. Pulling the lapels of his jacket snug around his neck, he leaned against the tree. His eyes, the same soft gray as the morning, scanned the landscape around him, searching out objects shrouded in fog of gray and white. The smell of winter was in the air, the cold front chasing on the tail of autumn’s wake. Pulling away from the old bois d’arc, he walked through the meadow to the road, bits and pieces of grass clinging to his boots. Reaching the Harley he paused and looked back at the meadow. Wisps of mists, gray tendrils wrapped around the trees, covered the ground where he had been. The place of his childhood, its enchantment calmed his soul, called for his presence, the child who had left so long ago. Shaking the sentimentality from his head, he climbed onto the motorcycle, barely escaping the clutch of the mist that now surrounded the bike.
Pulling back onto the road, he passed the green sign on the outskirts of town ‘St. Jack, Texas, pop. 900’. 899, he thought grimly, remembering the reason for his trip. The last time he had seen St. Jack was through the back window of a battered Chevy, a child still in the grip of terror. Now, some 30 years later a man still in the grasp of demons, determined to set himself free as he buried the one person who had held the key. Raw anger, the emotion that was his constant companion, clawed at his throat as he rounded the bend and the sight of the town water tower came into view. ‘St. Jack’, it proclaimed, ‘home of the Huguenots’. It’s mascot the last remaining vestige of the French people that had settled there in the mid 19th century. The name had originally been St. Jacques, but through the years before incorporation had been Texanized to plain St. Jack. His family, of course, had kept the name St. Jacques. A source of pride and arrogance, the symbol of power traced its way back to Etienne St. Jacques, its ruthless patriarch. The eldest of four children, his mother had kept with Southern tradition and gave him her maiden name. Morgan St. Jacques, the last of his line, was coming home.
Turning off the road before it curved into town, he followed the two lane track as it wound along the edges of old farmland, headed for a patch of trees in the distance. Stray tendrils of fog scurried across the dirt road, their destination the small creek that snaked through the green fields. L’Amoreaux waited for him at the end of the lane, the road having stopped at its iron gates, the same as everything else did. It belonged to him now, much to the chagrin of his greedy cousins, the seed of younger sons of younger sons. But Morgan didn’t want the home, its presence an aberration to the freedom in his soul. Settling down in one place was not the life he had planned, the life he now loved. Freedom kept you running, demons at your heels. Staying put allowed them to settle in your mind, waiting to drive you crazy as they had his brother. Stephen, gentle Stephen, would have laughed at Morgan, laughed at the irony of the gift from a grandfather he had not seen for three decades, yet had never left his side.
Morgan stared at the wrought iron gates, the initials E and G gracefully entwined as they had been for decades. Etienne and Genevieve, the lovers. Etienne had built this home for his bride, the beautiful Creole from New Orleans, whose face was as beautiful as her soul was dark. They had owned close to 200 slaves at one time, 200 tortured souls whose cries sometimes still filled the night air around the old slave quarters. Morgan and Stephen had spent many a night staring out the window of their bedroom at the play of mist around the decrepit old buildings. They had never questioned the sight of the smoky wisps or the low moans that had accompanied them. Neither had they questioned the parents of their friends who would never let their sons spend the night at the old plantation. Morgan got off of the bike and approached the gate, shaking the cobwebs from his memory just as he dusted the web from the catch on the iron bar. The gate gave way easily, swinging open without even the expected creak of hinges. Morgan felt a chill in the autumn air and again pulled the leather jacket closer. Gravel crunched under his feet as he stepped onto St. Jacques land. At least the old man had given in on one thing, he thought, remembering the spring showers and the impassability of the dirt road. There had been some good things to remember about l’Amoreaux, rabbit hunting on a spring day, fossils in the Sabine River, Shay, her white blond hair filled with the daisies that scattered across the eastern meadow each spring. He hadn’t thought of her in years, the little girl of his childhood. She’d be married now, with a lot of kids and a broken down husband tending the family farm. Shay O’Neal. She and Stephen had been his constant companions, confidants in the way only children could be. He'd missed her at first, then forgotten, just as he’d forgotten a lot about l’Amoreaux. No time for sentimentality, asshole. Morgan kicked a piece of gravel and walked back to his bike.

Meme

Temperatures reached into the 100s on Monday and our electric company is now doing rolling blackouts. I cannot remember this ever happening before. We have broke all kinds of temperature records. It was hotter in the Ft. Worth area than in Dallas (waving at Dennie, Cece and Sandy) and this does not bode well for the coming Summer. Hey folks, it's Spring here, we're not supposed to be this hot yet. Anyway, to help conserve energy I will only be on line Tuesday morning and evening. The computer will be off during the day (I'll go a bit more crazy!) Fortunately, a cool front will be coming through Tuesday night and we will only be in the upper 70s on Wednesday - Hallelujah! (That's where our temps should be - upper 70s and lower 80s). Oh, and in case the time thing with my blogs look screwy - I've pre-written some and I want to keep the date correct, so I change it (i.e. this is going up on Monday night, but it's Tuesday's blog, so the date is the 18th, in stead of the 17th) to help me keep up.

Jo tagged me last week - so here it is:

Four jobs you've had in your life:

1. Dress store clerk
2. Archives clerk (Texas A&M at Commerce)
3. Director, Ellis County Ethnohistorical Society
4. Bookstore clerk

Four movies you'd watch over and over:

1. The Mummy
2. LOTR (but especially Return of the King)
3. While You Were Sleeping
4. Pirates of the Caribbean

Four places you have lived:

1. Des Moines, Iowa
2. Dallas, Texas
3. Commerce, Texas
4. Italy, Texas

Four TV shows you love to watch:

1. CSI (Vegas)
2. Numb3rs
3. American Idol
4. Ghost Whisperer

Four websites you visit daily (I'm only naming one - I visit too many to single out anyone)

1. Jill Shalvis

Four places you have been on vacation: (what is that?)

1. San Francisco, California
2. Las Vegas, Nevada
3. Hannibal, Missouri
4. Denver, Colorado

Four of your favorite foods:

1. Pizza
2. Potatoes (I'm Irish, what would you expect?)
3. Meatloaf
4. Chicken

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. Ireland
2. England
3. Nampa, Idaho
4. Canada

Somewhere in Time

Now and Forever By Julia Templeton

Private investigator Alexandria Drake goes to haunted Radborne Manor on the trail of a cheating spouse. What she finds is a new client…in the year eighteen hundred and seventeen!
At first, all Alexandria wants is to go home. If she has to solve Radborne's famous double-murder to do it, so be it. Too bad the man she's trying to protect thinks she's a suspect. As if that's not bad enough, the only person who doesn't think she's insane is Christian's dead brother, Devon...whose ghostly image follows her around Radborne Manor, trying to help her uncover the murderer before he kills Christian.
Christian's determined to find his brother's killer and bring him to justice. But his prime suspect is a spirited, green-eyed temptress who he just can't seem to put out of his mind...or kick out of his bed.

Tears of Amun By Jordan Summers

Through the sands of time By the pharaoh's breath When the waters rise to highest depth Then the veils will thin For two worlds to see A fated love that must once again be
He who gazes upon the one wearing the Tears of Amun Shall go on to rule the kingdoms of Egypt
Charlotte Witherspoon is in love…with a picture.
When fate tosses her back in time and she finds herself face to face with the man who holds her heart, will she choose to stay, accepting the promise of passion glowing in his eyes or return to her own time? And what happens when destiny steps in to decide for her?
The answers lie within the Tears of Amun…

Authors: Julia Templeton and Jordan Summers
Publisher: Elloras Cave Pub Inc; 1st edition (April 30, 2006)
ISBN: 1419953362
You can also pre-order it at Borders/Amazon

Just Because

Yep, that's me. Wasn't I a cutie? So why am I posting this picture? Not gonna tell - it's an experiment, and if it works then you'll know why; if it doesn't ...

I just got off the phone with Cece. We talked for 2 hours! I haven't talked that long on the phone since I was a teenager. It was so nice to talk to another grown-up - I mean, I do have Bebo, but she works all day and I'm stuck with mother. Remember when your kids were toddlers (and some of them still are) and you just couldn't wait to talk to an adult? That's how I feel sometimes. So it was so great to talk with her. I just couldn't believe the time when she mentioned it. Two hours?!? I guess it's a good thing I have over 1,000 rollover minutes on the cell phone, huh? And then the damn thing decided to drop the call towards the end! I thought it had gone dead (which would have really made me mad since I had just charged it), but no - nothing wrong with it - Cingular just decided we had talked long enough. So I came inside the house and called her back on the "land line". Much clearer anyway.

Well, since it's nearly 11:30 I guess this is all I have to say for now. Remember, back to normal (whatever that is) Monday.

Y'all have a great Easter.

Hello Saturday

I'll be back to regular business by Monday. Meanwhile, here's another of the stash of bad jokes I've been keeping for the blog. Have a great weekend and Happy Easter.

Bubba and Junior were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking up. A blond lady walked by and asked what they were doing. "We're supposed to find the height of the flagpole," said Bubba, "but we don't have a ladder." The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement and announced, "Eighteen feet, six inches," before walking away. Junior shook his head and laughed. "Ain't that just like a dumb blond? We ask for the height, and she gives us the length!."

Filler

A women accompanied her husband to the doctor's office. After his checkup, the doctor called the wife into his office alone. He said: "If you don't do the following, your husband will surely die.

1. Each morning, fix him a healthy breakfast.
2. Be pleasant and make sure he is in a good mood.
3. For lunch, make him a nutritious meal.
4. For dinner, prepare him an especially nice meal.
5. Don't burden him with chores as he probably had a hard day.
6. Don't discuss your problems with him.
7. And most importantly, have sex with him several times a week and satisfy his every whim.

On the way home, the husband asked his wife what the doctor said to her. "You're going to DIE" she replied.

Catharsis

First of all, thank you to everyone who has come by to show support. I really appreciate it - and especially to Brandy, Kate H., Diane and Shirley. I'm okay. I have to tell you that this has given me more heartbreak than the loss of any other animal, even last week's loss of MacKenzie. I struggled to understand why and then suddenly realized that, unlike the other pets in my life, Devlin was much more - he was the only baby I have ever had. It is the hardest loss I have ever experienced other than my father and brother. I'm sorry I haven't been around - but I've been lurking. I've been sleeping, and crying, and generally trying to sort things out. I still don't feel like thinking of things to put on the blog but will probably get back in the groove soon. Thanks for your patience. Also, some people have asked what they could do to help. Here's what I would like - give something to your local "No Kill" shelter or cat rescue group. If you don't have the money - call one up and ask what you can do. Some of them can use things as mundane as newspapers for their kennels or even store coupons for food.

I've also done a little writing:

For Devlin

You came to me so small
Tiny body perfect for the palm
Of my hand
No face you saw,
No voice you heard
My touch, my smell was
All you knew

Your cries I soothed
With a calming touch
A soft nuzzle
A gentle rock
I’d speak and croon
Though you could not hear
My lullabies for you

Whimpers to mews,
Crawls and scoots
To gangly legs
You grew through struggles
Not your own but natures grip
You fought the battle and won
The round, this time the victor

But death waits for no one
And the time
Came when the fight could
No longer be fought
And our time together
Had come to an end
Too soon

So I said goodbye
A soft nuzzle
A gentle touch
And I crooned lullabies
Full of words of love
You could no longer hear
Sweet baby, goodbye.

Goodbye Baby

Devlin

April 6, 2005 - April 11, 2006

This Keeps Up I Might Turn Into a Hyrax

Okay, here it is. The idea is that I have 30 minutes to use all of the words given to me in the order that they were given. I cannot edit, I cannot change anything. I can only write (although doing this in Word means that I simply cannot ignore the little red squiggly line that screams at me "Misspelled Word") The words you gave me are in bold. I did this in 29 minutes. It's raw, real raw - but I love doing them. It gets my juices flowing whenever I feel a mental block. And I did have some interesting words this time. I can, and did, use the plural form of a couple of the words (they are my rules after all). In case anybody is curious, duckbilled platypus was a word given to me the last time I did this. If you would like to see the result of that one click on the link to "Eve's old archives" and go to Jan. 5 "Revenge of the Duckbilled Platypus". I really enjoyed that one. Anyway, here it is.

The tabby crouched low to the ground as it moved through the bushes, its orange coloring resembling its tiger ancestry, stripes visible through the greenery. Annabelle smiled as she watched it approach the small bird standing in the middle of the yard. Cats, ya gotta love ‘em. The smile became a laugh when, in a burst of orange it sprang from the bushes towards the bird, which promptly flew off leaving the puzzled feline behind. That rascal. You’d think it would figure it out someday. The birds a damn lot smarter than him. She glanced up at the ruins of the old castle on the hill overlooking the bay. I’ll have to check that out tomorrow. Lights would appear mysteriously at night, and that didn’t bode well for her business here. Turning away from the window, she finished stirring the fudge. Pulling out the spoon, she grimaced as a bit of chocolate splattered onto her shirt. Damn, that’s gonna leave a stain. And I bought this shirt on my last trip to Hawaii.

“That’s what you get for cooking with chocolate while wearing white, sweetheart.” Pouring the fudge into the pan, she put it into the fridge, dropped the sauce pan and spoon in the sink and headed towards the back of the house. Passing the small statue of a lion, she gave it a quick rub on its porcelain head for luck and entered her bedroom. She’d been doing that since she got out of the hospital, taking advantage of every single good luck charm she’d ever heard of in her trips around the world. After changing her shirt she walked over and picked up the binoculars from the small table in front of the window. A quick survey of the bay and the beach front property showed no sign of life and she replaced the glasses to their place next to the book on ornithology, her cover if anyone wondered why she kept looking through the glasses. Nothing. For two days there’s been no sign of activity on the beach or out in the bay itself. Annabelle hoped this foray to Nova Scotia would all pan out because she had passed up the opportunity to spend some quality time with an F-18 pilot and the worlds best orgasm for this assignment.

“Definitely a trip to the castle tomorrow” or maybe even tonight if her insomnia reared its ugly head again. “I’ve got to play this one by the book if I’m going to catch those pirates in the act.” Turning around, she nearly tripped on the tabby that had quietly moved up behind her. “Baby, we have got to get a bell on you.” Leaning over, she picked the now purring animal up and walked out of the room and back into the main part of the cottage. The distant sound of thunder echoed from outside. “Rain. Just what I needed right now. They won’t be doing anything in the rain.” Dropping the cat on the couch, she walked over to the door and opened it to see the gathering clouds. Damn. The brush of fur against her leg startled her as she watched the cat run out into the yard. “And stay out there this time.” At least he was more company than the hyrax she shared quarters with on her last assignment in the Middle East. She watched him dart across the grass, tail straight up in the air. In the glow of the setting sun he didn’t look quite orange, but rather a maize color, sort of like the teosinte she’d seen in Central America. Annabelle was about to close the door when movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her in her tracks. She stood motionless, eyes squinting at the line of trees that led to the path to the castle. I know I saw something. She grimaced as a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. Great. Out in the rain I go. Why didn’t I pick that F-18?

Ugh, Monday

The picture is for Brandy - I told her I would post a pic of one of the cats every once in a while. This is Aidan. I hope I haven't posted this one on this blog. Forgive me if I have. Anyway, Aidan has a sad story with a HEA that I will tell sometime.

Listen folks, I've been giving this "I Hate Monday" thing a little thought, and I have come up with a couple of ideas.

Let's start with a new day to follow Sunday. I call it Unday. Sort of a transitional day between the weekend and the start of the week. Everybody works only half a day with a full day's pay. Some in the morning, others in the afternoon. Same with school. See, like getting ready for the work week. Anyway, I'd add another day after Friday - Fairday. Same deal as Unday, but if you worked morning on Unday, you work afternoon on Fairday.

Now, with these extra days, we would have to add a couple of new months to the year. I say we call the first one Maybe and it lies between March and April. Maybe it will be Spring, maybe it will be Winter. This will give Mother Nature a chance to decide what she wants to do, be cold or start warming up. That way, by April it will definitely be Spring. That leaves us with one more month. I'll call it Ioweber. This comes at the end of the year. It's the time for getting caught up on the money you spent over Christmas. Everyone gets double pay the entire month. Interest rates will lower by 50% for Ioweber only.

Bebo says the lack of sleep is really starting to mess with my mind. What do you think?

Oh, and you have an assignment. Each of you give me a noun. One noun. Only one, and if you give me Duckbilled Platypus I just might have to hurt you. I feel the need to play *gg*

Reluctant Reunion Word Count: 6,177
Tonight's Word Count: 293
Getting your groove back: Priceless

Birthdays

No, it isn't anyone's birthday, just something I found on Tori's blog. Go to Wikipedia and put your birthdate (month and day only) in the search field. Now, list 3 events that happened on that day; 2 people who share your birthday; one person who died. Here's mine:

1914 - World War I: Known as the Christmas truce, German and British troops on the Western Front temporarily cease fire. (Visitors to my old blog know I love this)

1939 - Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is introduced by Montgomery Ward Stores. (Yeah Monkey Wards)

1977 - Prime Minister of Israel Menachem Begin meets in Egypt with President of Egypt Anwar Sadat

Birthdays:

1821 - Clara Barton, founder of the American Red Cross

1924 - Rod Serling

Death: (this would have to be a terrible day to have a loved one die)

1995 - Dean Martin (mother loves to listen to ol' Dino)

Plan for Sunday - I'm going to sleep in the morning and then Bebo and I might watch either Batman Begins or Good Night, and Good Luck. Any preferences?

Whatcha going to do today?

A Recommendation for You

What if the best sex you ever had was . . .


200 Years Ago?After breaking off her engagement, Natalie Bowman finds herself in the 1800s being auctioned off as a sex slave! She's even more shocked when the highest bidder is Andrew Greenwood -- the fiancé she dumped.


80 Years Ago?Uptight Sylvia Preston is terrified when she time travels to a twenties party. But when Tucker Green gets her dirty dancing, Sylvia wants to see just how uninhibited she can be -- in bed with Tucker.


60 Years Ago?When history student Betty Kroger is transported to WWII, it feels right -- and even more right to show sailor John Stevens what sex is like twenty-first-century style!

Authors: Julie Kenner, Nancy Warren and Jo Leigh
Publication Date: May 9, 2006 (you can pre-order it now)
Publisher: Harlequin (Signature Select)
ISBN:0373837038

Okay folks, I'm going to be working with the boss on Saturday morning (yikes), so I won't be able to get on-line. Then I'm off to a family party (I think - it depends on Devlin), so I probably won't be back here until Saturday night.

If I'm Dead Tired it Must Be Friday

I'm too tired to think up something new, so here's a re-cycle from my 360 blog (and maybe bravenet, but I'm just too tired to figure that one out). Anyway, it's from Loony Laws and Silly Statutes, Sheryl Lindsell-Roberts, Sterling Publishing Co., Inc., New York, 1994. These are actual laws which were still on the books as of 1994. Once again, bold is me because I just can't help myself.

In Kansas, it is illegal for eateries to serve ice cream on cherry pie. (In some places, not to do so would be blasphemy)

Xenia, Ohio, has made it illegal to spit in a salad bar. (And people wonder why I don’t like to eat salad.)

In Dyersburg, Tennessee, it is illegal for a girl to telephone a guy asking for a date. (Wait, is she telephoning a guy to ask for a date, or is she telephoning a guy who will be asking for a date – can she telephone guys who don’t ask for a date?)

A man could be fined $100 or more in Ohio if he represents himself as unmarried and keeps company with a “female of good character”. (He can, however, hang around with them as long as he doesn’t spit in a salad bar.)

Kissing a stranger in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, is illegal. (I’ve been to Cedar Rapids, kissing anyone there ought to be illegal. No really – my ancestors came from there. 4/7/06 update on this one - my cousin who came to visit Wednesday night lives in Cedar Rapids now, see I told you)

Any man who constantly kisses “human beings” is forbidden to have a mustache if he lives in Indiana. (Guess the animals don’t care.)

Infants in Los Angeles cannot dance in public halls. (Makes me feel so much safer.)

In Kentucky, it is illegal to remarry the same man four times. (So make sure you have 5 first cousins.)

In Los Angeles, California, it’s illegal to hang your lingerie in public view. (But you can wear it in public view.)

In Oxford, Ohio, you aren’t allowed to wear patent leather shoes. (Geeze, you can’t spit in the salad bar, you can’t pretend to be single and hang around with women of good character, now you can’t wear patent leather shoes – there ain’t no fun in Ohio.)

In Kentucky: No female shall appear in a bathing suit on any highway unless she is escorted by at least two officers or is armed with a club. (That would be the Playboy Club.) Wait – there’s an amendment: The Amendment Reads: The provisions of this statute shall not apply to females weighing less than 90 pounds nor exceeding 200 pounds nor shall it apply to female horses. (I guess they had a problem with female horses wearing bathing suits.)

And last, but definitely not least:

Until recently it was illegal to fish for whales off the coast of Oklahoma. (notice that’s “until recently” – that means all of them whale fishermen can now make a living in Oklahoma – as soon as they find that coast.)

Anybody Need a Laugh?

Happy 1st Birthday Devlin!!!!

I do, so I'm recycling an oldie from one of my other blogs. This , again, is from Non Campus Mentis, compiled by Professor Anders Henriksson, Workman Publishing, New York, 2001. My comments are in bold. Remember, these are real history essays by college students.


Many of the theories about the fall of the Roman Empire were totally not possible, and some of them were. This included more than enough religion, too much slavery, not enough water, and smoking from lead pipes. (It's that smoking from lead pipes that will get you every time.)

During the Dark Ages it was mostly dark. (Makes sense to me.)

It is unfortunate that we do not have a medivel European laid out on a table before us, ready for dissection. (Says who?) Society was arranged like a tree, with your nobels in the upper twigs and your pesants grubbing around the roots. This was known as the manurial system where land was passed through fathers to sons by primogenuflecture (In other words, it was full of ...). To some degree rulers diluted people into thinking that this was a religious operation.

During the Middle Ages everyone was middle aged. (They didn’t notice this in the dark ages because it was too dark.)

Power belonged to a patriarchy empowering all genders except the female. Nuns, for example, were generally women. In the early part of the Middle Ages female nuns were free to commit random acts of contrition and redemption. Later they were forcibly enclustered in harems. (Where they quite possibly met those other genders.)

Gratian, the leading Middle Evil authority on women, was born around 1140 B.C. A position as a lady-in-mating helped a young girl’s chances for a marriage useful to her family. Wives of nobelmen held certain power tools although they were branded with his symbol. (So that’s why Dad kept putting his name on his power tools!)

The Right of the First night let lords spend the wedding night with the bride instead of the husband. (Must have been back in those Dark Ages)

In 1066 England was overrun by Norman the Conqueror. England’s Henry II acquired new parts by marrying Ellenor of Equine. (Norman – you know Alexander’s little brother. )

And last, but not least.

Finally, Europe caught the Black Death. The bubonic plague is a social disease in the sense that it can be transmitted by intercourse and other etceteras. (It's those "etceteras" that you really have to look out for) It was spread from port to port by inflected rats. It was then passed around by midgets. Victims of the Black Death grew boobs on their necks. Death rates exceeded one hundred percent in some towns. This was a time of stunned growth. The plague also helped the emergence of English as the national language of England, France, and Italy. (Has anyone told France and Italy?)

MacKenzie

MacKenzie

May 1999 - April 4, 2006

I wasn't completely truthful when I said I was sick. I am, just sick of heart. Telling you I was sick was a lot easier than having to give explanations that I wasn't ready to give. So I apologize for the little subterfuge, but I really couldn't handle it at the moment. I had to take my MacKenzie in to the vets yesterday morning and have her put to sleep. While I was spending so much time on Devlin, I didn't notice that something else was going on. MacKenzie was still pretty feral - probably 60% feral. So she spent her life here in this house living in my bedroom. She would come up to me if I was sitting on the bed and let me pet her, but only then. She lived in there with Neely Shae - they roamed the house at night. This was mainly because of Siobhan and Cassidy who were bullies. I thought things would be better with both of them gone (yes, this is the third cat I've lost since November - although Cassidy just went to another home), but they weren't. With Bebo's move into the house MacKenzie switched to living in my mother's room. For a month or so everything was fine. I'd open the door and she would be laying on the bed or sitting on the windowsill - in other words, she was out in the room. About the time that Devlin became ill I also noticed that MacKenzie was hiding more. She was staying under my mother's dresser. She would come out when I called her - sometimes. Whenever Bubba (Seamas) and Neely Shae were in the room she was fine then too (she had been with Bubba since he was a kitten). But after a while she no longer came out to be with them. She was hiding from them. We all have heard stories of animals who start hiding when they are ill. That was MacKenzie. It doesn't matter from what - the vet and I talked about it for weeks. MacKenzie was not happy, she could not be treated and there was no other option.

By the time I snatched Mackenzie from the yard in November of 2000, we (my brother Howard and I) had already managed to get her to come to us, rub against our legs (if we stood very still), but I had no intention of keeping her. My plan then was to take her on up to the pound and have her humanely put down. I knew that that was better than living on the streets. But I couldn't do it and ended up keeping her. So in a way I gave her almost 5 1/2 years of love (as much as she would allow), food, companionship, etc. that she had never known before.

After she was gone I elected to hold her for a few moments. You see, I could never hold her before - she wouldn't let me. I like to think that she's free now - free from being scared of other cats, free to run and jump and lay in whatever sun is available wherever she is. I firmly believe in the rainbow bridge - I know that when I'm gone, the animals that I've loved will run across a bridge and greet me. Maybe she'll let me hold her again then.

Sorry

Extremely sick. Maybe I can blog something later. Maybe not. Try and have a good day.

Obsession

Obsession: 1. a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; broadly: compelling motivation; 2. something that causes an obsession : deriving from obsession.

Yep, that's it. In a nutshell. In yesterday's comments Brandy said something about not having that many books on a TBR pile, that she thought a "TBR pile should be more than 3 books high! That's all I manage to keep on hand at one time." That made me get up and count the books on my TBR shelf, and in my stack of hardbacks, and on the computer as ebooks - all unread. 77 books. Yes folks, I have 77 books lined up to read and have two more coming from Amazon and 4 more on pre-order. (I had thought 59, but then I remembered that I had more on another shelf that were automatic "keepers" and I had set them aside until I finished the ones that I wasn't going to keep) I would call that an obsession. Not only that, but I borrow books from the bookstore all of the time. I can't help myself. Its a compulsion, an addiction, and yes, a sickness. One that, until I counted the books, didn't bother me at all. A lot of us buy an extraordinary amount of books. But 77? (Well, 83 if you count the ones on the way and on pre-order). It's downright embarrassing. Like I'm the Imelda Marcos of books. It wouldn't be that bad if I said I had 83 books on my shelf. I'm sure a lot of us have quite a few books on our shelves. But 83 that we hadn't even read yet - why am I continuing to buy books? Do I have this fear that we're all of a sudden going to run out of books so I must hoard them now? Is there a 12-step program for bookaholics? Do I need a sponsor? Someone I can call up whenever I feel the compulsion to buy a book? And what about libraries? Do I need to stop going to places that have books so that I won't be tempted. And once a bookaholic, will I always be a bookaholic?

What about you? Is there something that you are strangely obsessed about? Come on, fess up.

Oh, and Lis won the draw. Email me with your snail mail address.


Reluctant Reunion Word Count: 4.544
Tonights Word Count: 433
Late night talk with the SIL: priceless

Because I Can

My cuddlers. The black one is Aidan and the other is Bailey. Aren't they precious? For some reason Aidan is the friend of all kittens - and he's a male! Bailey is 9 months old and Aidan is ... older (I don't remember, let's see, um, 3 or 4?).


Just a little humor for your Sunday enjoyment:

Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road. As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride. With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car.
Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.
"What's in the bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband."
The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said, "Good trade."


Reluctant Reunion Word Count: 4,111
Tonights Word Count: 0
Having a long-distance phone call with a cousin you haven't talked to in ages instead of writing: Priceless

Ready, Set, Go!

I really love the beginning of a book, the clean, blank screen (okay, I don't write long-hand, so just insert page), the possibilities waiting ahead. It's the part of the creative process that thrills me the most. Oh, don't get me wrong, writing the entire book is interesting, but the beginning holds a special wonder for me. In fact, I'm really good at beginning stories - too good in fact. Think I might be practicing too much? I have a lot of first chapters lying around - even a few chapter two's. But I've only finished one book and, while not a total disaster, wasn't my best effort. And I didn't like finishing it. I know that sounds strange but I didn't feel the elation I thought I should have. I definitely didn't have the same sense of awe and wonder I experience at the beginning of a book. But it was a learning experience. I discovered that I wasn't good at dark, brooding characters. I'm more adept at comedy (you think?) and yet I feel as if my life is filled with dark, brooding moments. Maybe that's why I don't write them very well right now. I need the comedy and I guess my mind would much rather dwell on laughter than angst.

Do you feel the same way? Do you find yourself shying away from topics or "moods" that too much mirror what you are going through in your "real" life? And what part of the book is your favorite to write - the beginning, middle or end?