Posts

Posted on

Ethics, health, presidents, & vice-presidents

I read a post in Legal Insurrection this morning discussing a Chris Cillizza/CNN piece suggesting that the reason Biden picked Kamala Harris for his running mate is because “…if and when Biden steps aside” she’s more than qualified to step in. My first reaction was “Wait. What?” Are we now supposed to be voting for candidates whose slogan is “Vote for me…I’ll step aside for my running mate!” Really? I have to wonder if after posting this “analysis” (it’s linked in the Legal Insurrection piece) Cillizza looked at it and thought Did I say that out loud? I mean, I know Biden’s health and competency have been discussed many times in many places, but it is a serious issue.

In 2016 my mother died from what were described as complications due to Alzheimer’s Disease. She died from complications from her second concussion in one month due to falling on her head because the Alzheimer’s left her incapable of understanding what she was doing in addition to affecting her balance. I spent ten years watching my mother succumb to this horrible, disgusting disease. I know what it looks like. I see my mother’s eyes in Joe Biden and hear her in his attempts to answer questions. I don’t like Joe Biden the politician, but it is heartbreaking to watch Joe Biden the human being struggling in public as he is. I have nothing but anger and loathing for the people around him who are pushing him to continue with this farce. This is an attempted power grab by them, nothing more. The worst perpetrator of all of this is his wife.

Doctor (if she still upholds her oath) Jill Biden should know better on a professional level, and on a personal level she should want to protect the man she says she loves. My father did everything in his power, spent any amount of money it took to keep my mother safe and as happy as possible. He gave his life trying to keep her safe and protected. Jill Biden is pushing her husband into what I am convinced will be a very public break down. It’s disgusting. I’m not sure what she thinks being First Lady for what a year? two? will get her, but she’s clearly willing to sacrifice her husband to get it.

If the goal of pushing Biden and selecting Harris is to get Harris into the Oval Office, then there has been an enormous ethical lapse on the part of the DNC (quelle surprise…ethics? We don’t need no stinking ethics!). Harris didn’t make it in the primary race…why? Because…um…let me think…oh, yeah. Democratic voters didn’t like her! But, hey. They’ll be perfectly happy if we shoehorn her into the job, right?

Democrats are showing themselves to be unethical, power hungry, authoritarian, and self-serving with their 2020 presidential ticket. Don’t believe me? Go back and dig out tweets and articles about Harris in 2019. I’ll give you a freebie: Look up that snake-oil salesman Shaun King. Then compare them to today’s tweets and articles. The supposedly considered opinions have switched 180 degrees and Harris has done nothing and said nothing different from nine months ago.

I am appalled at the treatment Joe Biden is being subjected to by those who supposedly care about him. I appalled and angered by the blatant machinations and obvious subverting of the process for electing the highest office in the country, by the Democratic Party leadership. And, I’m saddened by all the people I know, like, and love who are willfully buying into this crap.

But, in the end, I’m cautiously optimistic that the blatant actions of the DNC and their lapdogs in the media will make ordinary voters sit up and take notice. I’m positive that those voters will not like what they see. In the end, I will keep harping on the hypocrisy I see and keep bringing it up. I will do this if for no other reason than to hopefully plant some small seed of doubt in even one person’s mind.

You want to keep this country functional and free? Do not let them get away with this crap. But, you must be willing to fight.

Be not afraid.

Image by Mary Pahlke from Pixabay

Posted on

Gargoyles

It’s been an off week or ten days. Not off in anything bad, just feeling off-kilter. Hubby went into the office for a couple of days last week for the first time since mid-March, which was weird in a “this is not our usual day” sort of way. I haven’t made a lot of headway on Book #2, although I have some ideas and I’m working them out. And finally, I missed sending in a prompt last week for More Odds Than Ends, so I used a spare one this week.

The spare was “Why did the gargoyle cross the road?” I used it to continue the Cursebreaker series (complete series linked above). This is definitely going somewhere and I’m trying to keep up. Once I get a draft of Book #2 out to beta readers I will be focusing on this one for a time. That’s the plan at any rate. So, here’s Cursebreaker Part XII.

******

Jack pulled up into his own driveway. He grabbed the backpack as he climbed out of the car. He let the dogs out and slowly walked up the steps to his front porch. The dogs clustered around his feet as he dropped into the Adirondack chair next to the front door. Putting the backpack on the floor between his feet, he pulled out the bobble head of Greg Leland and stared at it. Jake and Scout both gave half wags and let out small whines.

“I know, I know. I promise we’ll get him out,” Jack murmured, scratching the dogs’ ears. “I just wish I knew what the hell was going on. Why would somebody drop a phone in my car? And, what does it have to do with Greg?”

Captain stood up and balancing his front paws on Jack’s lap, gave Jack a long, sloppy lick up the side of his face.

“Oh, man! C’mon!” Jack laughed, wiping his face. “Okay, okay. You’re right. We’ll figure this all out. Maybe Greg can help out.”

Still cradling the bobble head, he grabbed the backpack and stood up. As he was reaching for the door handle, it opened to reveal Monica with a concerned look on her face.

“Honey? What are you doing out here? I thought I heard voices. Is everything okay?” his wife sounded worried.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. The dogs are fine. I was just talking to them and to myself. Things are getting weirder, but now I’m thinking that somebody may be trying to help out,” Jack smiled and gave her a quick kiss.

“Okay. Well…did you find the doll with Greg in it? Can we get him out?” Monica patted the dogs as they pushed into the house.

“Yeah, I found it and something else happened. I’ll fill you in after I get Greg out,” Jack replied.

He followed Monica back through the house to the kitchen. She pulled out a bag of jerky treats for the dogs as Jack went into the living room. He carefully set the bobble head doll on the coffee table before going back into his office for supplies. Unlike the curse that had bound his brother-in-law and family into a figurine, Jack thought that this one felt like the first three dolls he’d uncursed. He could not have said why, but it just felt more straightforward. I don’t like that I’m getting so used to this, but it does help, I guess.

Fifteen minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief as Greg Leland appeared out of the bobble-head doll and Jake and Scout went wild with joy. Monica appeared almost immediately afterwards with mugs of tea for all of them.

Greg grinned at Jack. “I knew you’d figure it out. Thanks,” he carefully juggled the mug of hot tea and two enthusiastic dogs.

“Well, thanks for your confidence. I’m glad we got you back,” Jack returned the grin. “But what happened? I mean, I read your letter, but it’s still murky. And, you do know you’re like the sixth or seventh magic worker who’s been cursed into a doll, right? What the hell is going on with you guys?”

Greg’s expression grew thoughtful. “I have some ideas and I want to know what you think. But there are a couple of things you need to know first. There’s a couple of things I saw…” he trailed off.

“Like what?” Jack leaned forward.

“Well, for one, I saw…a…gargoyle. A live gargoyle,” Greg grimaced.

“What?? It takes a hella lot to animate a gargoyle…even more to make it look alive…” Jack frowned.

“I know. But I’m telling you it was alive. It was crossing the road,” Greg stared into his mug.

“Why did the gargoyle cross the road? Which road?” Jack was starting to feel lost. This was getting out of hand. Assuming it was connected to the cursed dolls, which he figured it was because why would anything be simple? He dropped his head into his hands.

“I have no idea. I have no idea,” Greg sighed.

******

Image by sollrox from Pixabay

Posted on

Puzzles

Hurricane Isaias has hit Philly, so I’m writing and listening to the rain. It’s rather nice. We are now in Week 31 of prompts at More Odds Than Ends. I am still having a hard time believing that I’ve been doing this for more than half the year. And, it’s likely given me the first (and several ideas for the second) book in what would be my second series. I’m very happy and grateful for that. This week ‘nother Mike and I traded prompts. His prompt to me was: Someone had tossed a cellphone with a puzzle piece taped to its back into the car. I was able to work it into the ongoing Cursebreaker saga (earlier entries can be found at the link above). This one picks up right where the last one left off. I hope you enjoy!

*******

Jack pulled up in front of Greg Leland’s house and sat for a minute looking over the front of the house. Nothing seemed out of place, but he still had an itch between his shoulder blades…as if he were being watched. Pulling out his phone, he lowered his head pretending to read something on the screen while his eyes scanned the area. The three dogs in the back seat were quiet.

After a minute, and not spotting anything out of the ordinary, Jack got out of the car, walked around to the curb and opened the back door to let the dogs out. Jake and Scout immediately headed toward the side gate leading into the back yard, Captain close behind. After glancing around once more, Jack followed the dogs to the side gate.

Pulling out the set of keys that had been attached to Jake’s collar, Jack found the one that opened the gate and followed the three dogs into the yard. The fence was high enough that anybody in the yard could not be seen from the street. As that thought struck him, Jack put a cautionary hand on Captain’s head. Captain gave a short, low bark. Jake and Scout stopped their forward movement into the yard and turned towards the big German Shepherd. Jack gestured to the two dogs and they returned to his side. Flanked by all three dogs, Jack walked cautiously into the yard.

Nothing seemed out of place. Dog toys were dropped here and there around the yard, and a small plastic kiddie pool sat just off of the patio. Jack straightened up from a crouch he didn’t realize he’d gone into and continued to scan the yard. Suddenly Scout froze and pointed, eyes trained on the sliding glass doors opening onto the patio. The door was partially open.

Jack lifted his hand from Captain’s head. “Go!”

All three dogs raced toward the door and into the house, Jack following on their heels.

The front door slammed as Jack and the dogs skidded into the entry hallway. Cursing, Jack pushed through the canine bodies clamoring at the front door and pulled it open. The dogs rushed down the front path, but stopped at the sidewalk, whining and looking in all directions. Jack ran to the middle of the sidewalk and looked up and down. There was nobody and nothing in sight.

The dogs huddled around Jack, tails now between their legs. “What’s up guys? What’s going on?” Jack kept staring up and down the street but couldn’t see anything but a quiet suburban street, looking perfectly normal in the middle of the day.

Glancing around one more time, Jack patted each dog. “C’mon guys. Let’s go in and see if we can find what we came for.” He moved back up the walk leading to the front door.

Back inside, Jack carefully closed and locked the front door. He turned in the small entry hallway to orient himself and find Greg’s office. He spotted a small den a few feet down the hall and headed into that. This was clearly an office. A very nice, very big desk, with a closed laptop sitting on it, filled one corner. Behind the desk were four or five rows of shelves. In the place of honor, in the center of the first shelf was a bobble-head doll of Greg Leland in his NASA space suit.

Jack pulled out his camera, pointed it at the doll and took a picture before moving toward the shelves. The digital photo did indeed reveal a human figure trapped inside the bobble-head. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack reached up and carefully pulled the doll off of the shelf. He wrapped it in a dish towel and tucked it into the backpack he had brought for that purpose.

“Okay, guys. We’re good. Let’s lock up the back and get out of here,” Jack looked down at the dogs. On impulse, he pulled the doll back out and held it toward Jake and Scout. Both dogs sniffed at the doll and whined. “I’m going to take that as confirmation,” Jack muttered putting the doll back into the bag.

He made a quick tour through the rest of the house making sure it was secure and locked up the back. Leaving through the front door, Jack surveyed the neighborhood once again before walking to the car. He let the dogs into the back seat and then moved around to the driver’s side. As he sat down, he noticed an object on the front passenger seat. Someone had tossed a cellphone with a puzzle piece taped to its back into the car. What the hell? Note to self, don’t leave the windows open even a bit, no matter how warm it is…

Jack stared at the phone for what felt like an hour, although it was probably less than a minute, before picking it up. The puzzle piece provided no clues. It was an edge piece…sky blue, with what looked like the tip of a blade of grass. He shrugged and tucked the phone into the backpack without taking the puzzle piece off. Getting Greg out of the bobble-head was the top priority right now. He’d worry about the puzzle piece and the phone after that.

*******

As always, please feel free to join in the fun! What few rules there are (well, okay, there aren’t any rules) can be found at More Odds Than Ends. This is the first group I’ve ever done the prompt thing with, and I’m loving it. This group of people is very encouraging and helpful for the newbie and the experienced writer.

Image by Zoltan Matuska from Pixabay

Posted on

Write-in Campaign

Here we are. Week 30 of Odd Prompts is upon us. When I first read the prompt I received from Anne Guglik, I commented that it figured that the now-former (yay!) political science professor would get the one about running for president. Since high school, when I told people I was majoring in political science, the first question out of people’s mouths was usually “Oh, are you going to run for office?” No. And, as a matter of fact, I scrupulously avoid actual politics. And God knows I do not want to be president. The only thing I want to be responsible for is how my own day is scheduled, and how much or whether I write. That’s it. But, I came up with this. It’s more in the what is your reaction to finding out you won a write-in campaign for the highest office in the country, rather than a true answer to “what do you do now?”

My prompt: You posted an Op-Ed about something you were passionate about and it went viral. Then somewhat as an online protest/prank you became a write in candidate for President….and you won. What do you do?

*******

“Holy shit! You won!” Derek was shouting, jumping up and down in front of the television.

“Yeah, right,” I responded reaching for another slice of pizza.

He spun around and moved away from the TV. “I am NOT KIDDING!! You fucking won!”

I gaped at the revealed screen. I had 280 Electoral College votes. Just over the majority. Oh. My. God.

My phone rang. The caller ID was a number in Kansas. I hit the answer icon and put the call on speaker.

“Hello?” I know I sounded hesitant.

“Good evening, Ms. Riley. And, congratulations on your win. I’m conceding to you. I guess that op-ed hit all the right spots for voters. I just hope you truly are up for the job.” The voice on the other end was unmistakable. It was Robert Mallory, the Republican candidate for President of the United States.

“Thank you. I hope I can count on your support going forward,” I surprised myself with my relatively coherent answer.

Mallory seemed surprised as well. “Well, yes. I’m happy to provide advice. Congratulations, again.” He hung up.

As soon as the call ended another one came through. This time from the Democratic candidate.

“Well, Ms. Riley, I hope you’re happy. I’m conceding as it looks like you’ve managed to pull of the impossible and win a US presidential election with a write-in campaign. What a joke.” Sandra Bellamy hung up the phone before I could respond.

Derek laughed. “You won! Holy crap! And, what do you want to bet that Bellamy says she had a great conversation with you and wishes you well? But Mallory sounds okay.”

I was still staring at my phone. What in the hell had just happened??

I looked up at Derek from my attempt to disappear into the couch. “What do I do now? Winning was not the goal of this…this campaign…joke…whatever. What do I do?”

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the apartment door. We looked at each other and Derek moved over to look through the peephole.

“Um…Bethany…um…it’s Secret Service…um…” he stared at me as reality started to sink in for both of us. I walked over to the door and opened it.

“Good evening Ms. Riley, I’m Agent Jeffrey Stanwick, Secret Service,” the tall, blond man held out a badge. I took it gingerly in two fingers and looked at the badge and accompanying identification card. Derek peered over my shoulder. Yep, Jeffrey Stanwick was most certainly a senior agent with the Secret Service. I handed both badge and ID back and then moved my right hand over to my left arm.

“Ow!” the hard pinch startled me and had the intended effect. No, I wasn’t dreaming. I had just been elected President of the United States through a write-in campaign that started as a joke. I guess I better start calling some people. God help us all.

*******

Please join in the fun over at More Odds Than Ends. What few rules there are, are listed on the front page. Prompts and responses can take any form you’d like (although we’re trying to keep ‘nother Mike away from interpretive dance…)

Image by Andreas Breitling from Pixabay

Posted on

Astronaut

My Week 29 prompt at More Odds Than Ends from Unstagehand was the photo above of astronaut Leland Melvin and his two dogs Jake and Scout. According to this story, he snuck the dogs into the photo studio at NASA and the dogs are now a part of his official NASA portraits. I kicked this around for several days trying to figure out a story. In the end, it worked its way into the Cursebreaker series. I’m still not sure where this series is going, but as soon as I make some serious progress on the second Academic Magic book, I will start working my way through the adventures of Jack and the cursed dolls.

And, here’s what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it.

******

Jack stared at the photograph. It showed a smiling African-American man wearing a spacesuit and two obviously happy dogs climbing into his lap and licking his face. He looked down at the two dogs sitting outside his office door. The dogs in the photo. There was no doll, just the two dogs who had arrived a couple of minutes ago, with one carrying the photo. He turned the picture over. There was a short note on the back.

Hi Jack,

I hope that Jake and Scout have found you. You need to go to my house and find the bobble-head doll of me. It’s on the shelf above the desk in my office. The house keys are on Jake’s collar.

Jack bent down and looked at both dogs. Yep, there were the keys on one collar.

“Okay, you’re Jake, and you must be Scout,” he greeted both dogs. Small tail wags acknowledged his greeting. He returned to the note.

I had a contract with Armina Grove and Camilia Sharpe. Yes, I read it. No, I did not break it, but they showed up on Tuesday and accused me of breaking the contract. They then left, promising to return. I put this note together and the keys on Jake’s collar. I have spoken with other magic workers and I think I am prepared for whatever they try next. In the event I am not, you are reading this note.

“Well, Greg, you were not prepared. At least not enough. And, I’m not sure that even two spaceflights could prepare anybody for a revenge-seeking witch,” muttered Jack.

Thank you for your help. I’m confident you can figure this out.

–Greg Leland

Jack ran a hand through his spiky black hair. Another magic-worker, another curse, no doll. At least no doll yet.

“C’mon boys, come in,” he waved to the two dogs. Captain’s tongue lolled out and his tail wagged in greeting. Jake and Scout trotted into Jack’s office. He closed the front door and crossed the small room to the other door and walked into his living room.

“Monica!” he called up the stairs. “I’m going out. Over to Greg Leland’s house. Captain’s coming with me.”

“What happened? Another doll?” Monica came down the stairs.

“The doll is apparently at Greg’s house. His dogs showed up just now with this,” he showed her the picture, “and house keys. The note on the back says there’s a bobble-head doll at his house that I need to pick up. I’m going to take all the dogs with me. It shouldn’t take too long. I’m going to grab the doll and come straight home.”

******

The entirety of the Cursebreaker series (so far) can be found here and at the top of the page.

My prompt, the opening lyrics from Bowie’s “Heroes”, one of my all time favorite songs, went to Cedar Sanderson who managed to work it into The Perambulating Hatrack. Pretty damn clever is that Cedar.

Posted on

Where’s your line?

Where is your line, past which you will not go, when it comes to what’s being called “woke culture?” What has to be destroyed or torn down, or worse, who has to be killed before you say, “Enough! I will no longer support this cause!” Where is that line? What has to happen for you? I read a piece by James Lindsay at New Discourses that addresses this question, and it got me thinking. Where is my line? What makes me back away and disavow an idea or movement or goal?

I am not a big joiner; I don’t go to protests, marches, or rallies. In college, I went to a few rallies. One of them was when Reagan came to campus on the campaign trail prior to his first term. A large number of students stood in the back and raised our hands in the Nazi “heil Hitler” salute. We thought we were so clever to be calling out the candidate for his “Nazi” leanings. We were dumbasses. My only excuse is that I was a sophomore and as a (now former) faculty member, I know that sophomores can be a particular type of dumbass…no longer scared freshmen, so they think they now have a handle on everything, but still trying to prove that they are smarter than seniors. Dumbassery abounds. I still cringe at the thought of that rally.

As an aside, as an actual adult, I have discovered I have a form of claustrophobia that hits when I cannot see where I can leave the crowd. I’m short. I can never see over a crowd. So, in crowd situations, I look for a landmark that’s near the exit or gate. Something like a tree, light pole, sign…that sort of thing. If I can’t see where to leave the crowd, I start to panic. So, no marches or rallies for me.

My other reason for not going to rallies etc. is that I know too much about political theories and other forms of government. As an undergrad I was a government major. I also hold an MA and a PhD in political science. I have spent my entire post-high school educational career studying politics. I took an entire, semester-long class on Marx (don’t do that…trust me). I say all of this to demonstrate that I really have spent most of a lifetime studying politics and more importantly, I specialize in emerging democracies, what makes them succeed, why do some fail… I believe that I can say with some authority that whatever its faults, our system is light years ahead of any Marxist/socialist government system. Light. Years. Just remember one basic idea: Whatever government gives to you, it can take away. And the corollary: Rest assured, government will always take things away if it thinks it can get away with it.

All of this is a long way to say, my line was crossed at the violent looting and protests. Actually, my line was when Antifa became a thing and proudly announced their socialist/Marxist goals. But Lindsay continues…if your line has been crossed, or when it’s crossed, what will you do? Will you speak up? Will you write? Will you say anything? When your line is crossed, what do you do?

I’ve decided that I will write, and to the extent it doesn’t drive me crazy, I will post articles and comments on Facebook. That is the venue where I keep in touch with the majority of my friends. 99% of my FB friends are also real life friends from college, high school, and my professional life. So, there is an element of risk. Risk that people will cut me off or that I will cut them off because they become insulting. But, I know that I do have many friends who, while we may sharply disagree on how to address problems this country faces, we share many more points in common. And, we can and do argue, yes loudly and strongly, but in the end, we can go have a beer and figure out why cats and dogs act like they do or solve all the other problems in the world. The caveat for this is we’re face to face or on the phone. FB does not allow for nuance, facial expressions, and allows you to forget that you actually do know the person on the other end of that comment or post. In the end, I will keep posting. I like to think that maybe, just maybe, somebody will take in what I write, and it will sit in the back of their brain forcing them to give the idea at least some attention.

And, why do this? Well, as Lindsey points out, if you don’t know where your line is and don’t actually articulate it, you will likely cross it without noticing, or with some vague rationale. Then you will be on a rapidly descending slope and well into the area where you will now support a multitude of horrific actions by groups you claim to find credible.

You have to find your line before you cross it.

This simple act of getting people to commit to their principles before they let them slip is of tremendous importance and use because of how we process our moral reasoning. We do this by post-hoc rationalization, meaning that we lawyer ourselves into believing we acted morally after act, which often means after we’ve already crossed the line. Drawing a clear line ahead of time, especially in a social context where accountability weighs in, makes it that much easier to see the line, bright and clear, and that much harder to cross first and rationalize after.

James Lindsay, The Woke Breaking Point

We all need to pay attention to the stated aims, and the fine print in the groups we support. We need to learn their history, even that of the political parties. (How many people are surprised that the Democratic Party created the KKK to be their militant arm? Or that the Republican party was the last third party to become a major party through their single-issue platform of abolition in the 1860 election?) Pay attention. Read a variety of sources with a variety viewpoints. Believe it or not, you won’t die if you read something you disagree with.

What will it take for you to say “That’s it. I’m out.”? Vandalizing statues? Tearing them down? Tearing down every statue they decide they don’t like? Burning churches? White people screaming insults at black cops? Cities losing control of a neighborhood for weeks? People getting raped and murdered in those autonomous zones? Rioting every single night for over 50 nights? Mayors who do not stop such excesses?

Figure out where your line is and then figure out what you will do when it’s crossed. Yes, it is that important.

Image by andreas N from Pixabay

Posted on

Return to Sender

This week, Week 28, at More Odds than Ends, I was gifted with the following prompt from ‘nother Mike. He always comes up with intriguing prompts. The envelope had no return address, and held only some dried flower petals. After letting it rattle around in my brain for a few days (OK, almost a week), I figured out a way to put it into the ongoing saga of the freelance cursebreaker, Jack McKnight. If you want to catch up, the previous installment is here, and the entire series is here.

******

Jack returned to the living room to find Rob turning an envelope over in his hands.

“What’s that?” Jack asked, setting his notes down on the table.

“I don’t know. I just found it in my pocket,” Rob sounded puzzled.

“Is it something you shoved into your pocket right before you answered the door?” Jack could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

“Nooo…should I open it? It’s sealed.” Rob looked up from the envelope and held Jack’s gaze.

Jack glanced back at Monica and the others. His wife seemed to feel his eyes on her and turned her head in time to catch his eye. Jack gave a small sideways gesture with his head toward the kitchen. She raised one eyebrow and turned back to her sister-in-law and niece.

“Let’s go into the kitchen and get some hot chocolate…kicked up for us,” she winked at Julia as she herded everybody, including the dogs, into the kitchen.

Jack turned back to Rob. “Let’s put that in a circle and check it before we try anything,” he murmured.

Rob nodded and the two men moved into Jack’s office. Jack pulled the throw rug off the circle he had created with inlay in the wood floor and placed the envelope in the center of the circle. He raised the shielding around the circle and nodded to Rob. His brother-in-law closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Jack switched over to magesight as well. Both men stared at the legal-sized envelope for a minute or so.

Jack glanced up at Rob. “I don’t see anything off, do you?”

“No, I don’t. I guess let’s see what’s inside,” Rob still sounded wary.

“I’ll open it. Regardless of what it is, it’s probably not keyed to me, so my opening it shouldn’t trigger anything that we may have missed,” Jack responded.

“Okay. Good idea. I’ll keep an eye out,” Rob said.

Jack lowered the shields around the circle and picked up the envelope. Nothing happened so he stood up and backed away from the circle. He turned the envelope over, carefully slid his thumb under the seal, and opened it. Jack pulled the envelope open wider and looked inside. He turned it upside down over his hand. Several dried rose petals fell into his palm.

“What are those?” Rob stared at the petals.

“Dried rose petals. Does that mean anything to you?”

“I do use them for some things. But I haven’t ordered any in a while…I get them from…oh, hell,” Rob raised his eyes to Jack. “I get them from Miranda Hawley, another witch. I remember her saying something about Armina Grove and Camilia Sharpe…about…rivalries?” His voice rose on the last word turning the statement into a question.

“Oh, hell is right. Somehow you got in the middle of a rivalry. I’m going to check in with my other clients and see if they did any business with Miranda Hawley,” Jack sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was get between pissed off witches. But there had already been one death. He couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore this.

*******

I’m getting an inkling of where this story is going. I promise, once I do, I will be writing the whole thing out and turning it into a book. My prompt, The massive thunderstorm brings rain, hail…and a small creature (you decide what) to your doorstep. What is it and what are you going to do? went to Cedar Sanderson. I have a feeling she’ll figure out a way to work it into The Case of the Perambulating Hatrack.

In the meantime, if you’d like to join our jolly little prompt-writing crew, just head on over to More Odds Than Ends. Everything you need to know on how to join in the fun is right there.

Image by Frank Magdelyns from Pixabay

Posted on

Working Together and Around Each Other

Working from home. How often while in a corporate job did I daydream about being able to work from home? The easy commute from bedroom to office, the close proximity of the kitchen, the ability to sit on the couch as opposed to at a desk…the list goes on. Well, since March 12, I’ve gotten my wish. So, how does it compare to the daydream? As with many things, the reality does not measure up to the wishful thinking. During the semester (while I was teaching on line) hubby and I did the dance of the Zoom meetings…”I have a meeting at this time. OK, I have one here. OK, I can hang out in the living room”…You get the picture. One of us was traipsing in and out of our shared office at any given point in time.

The semester is over and I’ve resigned/retired from my faculty position. But, I’m still writing. Book 2 will be coming out this fall and that is my priority right now. But, I don’t really have a proper work space. I have ceded the office to hubby as he (obviously) still has meetings and phone calls. Sitting on the couch and trying to write is not going well. I really need to figure something out in an apartment where options are very limited.

The other issue is the “no alone time” thing. I am used to having summers off and scheduling myself (however well or poorly I manage that). I am NOT used to hubby being home All.The.Time. No, we don’t argue or fight or fuss at each other and we love hanging out together. But, there’s absolutely no alone time right now. Yesterday, I walked downtown to get my hair cut and we realized it was the first time since March 16 (his last day in the office) that we had not left the house together. We each had about two hours to ourselves (OK, I was at the hair salon, but it was soooo nice to see and talk with other people!) and I think we really needed it.

There’s also the issue of pets, or new coworkers. My cat likes to sit next to me, half on my lap, and rest on the keyboard of my laptop. Yet another reason why I need to get off the couch and figure out a different work space. I cannot spend all day watching bird videos with him. It’s just a time sink. People with small children at home have the same problem. You have to entertain or otherwise engage the kids in a way that allows you to get some work done. That’s extremely difficult.

Do not get me wrong. I am extremely grateful that we have been able to keep our jobs, that we have the home infrastructure necessary to be able to work from home, and that we enjoy spending insane amounts of time together (now that I think about it, being in grad school together may have contributed to that. We are used to having lots of unstructured time and used to spending lots of time together while working on our own projects).

Are you sharing work space? Do you have interesting and exciting new coworkers (i.e. kids and/or pets)? How have you managed it?

Happy Friday Eve (tm Stan)!

Image by Mylene2401 from Pixabay

Posted on

El Camino Real

My prompt for Week 27 at More Odds Than Ends came from Leigh Kimmel: The song “Sausalito Summer Nights” by Diesel is the story of a trip from Los Angeles to San Francisco. The Wikipedia article mentions that Sausilito is north of San Francisco, in a context that implies that the songwriter mislocated it as being south of San Francisco. In fact, the lyrics clearly mention crossing the Golden Gate Bridge to get into San Francisco. Why does the narrator of the song go east around the Bay to get to San Francisco instead of heading north on El Camino Real? Visiting a friend in Marin County on the way? Wanting to avoid the possibility of getting stuck in Silicon Valley traffic with a car prone to overheating? Some other reason? Tell me the story.

Just reading the prompt sent me back in time to the hundreds of times I’d made the drive from LA to SF in all sorts of weather and at all times of the year (including the Wednesday of Thanksgiving week…never again!). Single file over the Grapevine in a blinding snowstorm guided by the flashing lights of the CHP car leading our convoy. Bright sunny days that led to stops at Fort Tejon at the top of the pass. Flying down the north side of the pass and gaping at a truck in the emergency stop gravel hill. Getting stuck in Los Banos because my engine froze due to lack of oil (there was a leak) and spending four hours in the Burger King waiting for my friends’ mom to drive down from Sacramento and pick us up so we could get back to LA. Telling my dad that I left an hour or so earlier than I did because I didn’t want to get lectured on driving too fast. I think that drive up I-5 is a rite of passage for every California driver.

I had to look up the lyrics to the song and sure enough, it mentions trouble on the Grapevine and implies taking the long way around to get to San Francisco. Combining my memories of the route and the lyrics, I give you this:

******

El Camino Real

“But, it’s the El Camino Real! The Royal Road! Don’t you want to travel the royal road?”

“No, it’s 101 and it’s not nearly as interesting as you think. We’ll go up 5 and then over to 580 and across the Richmond bridge. That will give us a straight shot to Stinson Beach without having to go through the City.” Like a lot of locals, Brian capitalized the word “city” when he was speaking about San Francisco.

He knew he was getting overly snippy with Madison, but he was the one doing all the driving and he sure as hell didn’t want to get stuck in that Silicon Valley rush hour traffic. It would add at least two to three hours to the trip. And, then going through San Francisco…the stuff of nightmares traffic-wise.

“Well, I think you’re cheating me out of the wonders of California. This is my first trip and all I’ve seen is Disneyland and the interstate,” Madison pouted.

Brian sighed and made sure his tone was softer. “Not exactly accurate, but I know, babe. But if we do it this way now, when we leave Stinson Beach, we can go back through Sausalito and then over the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco.” She was right. He was returning home, but this was her first trip to California, and he had promised to show her as much of the state as they could afford in terms of both time and money.

They had flown into Los Angeles and spent a few days there going to Disneyland, Venice Beach, Santa Monica and Hollywood Boulevard. This morning they had pointed the rental car north and headed up to the Bay Area. There was a brief issue with the radiator on the Grapevine but since that was a common problem on that stretch of highway there were water stops about every quarter mile, thus easily fixed.

Brian wanted to show Madison something other than the primary tourist spots of LA and San Francisco, so he’d decided they would spend a couple of days in Stinson Beach and then go into San Francisco, hence his roundabout route and leaving the “Royal Road.”

“Besides,” he went on, “we can spend a night in Sausalito this way and you can sing that song you like so much while we stand on the ferry dock and look at the lights of San Francisco.” She did smile at that.

Madison would get her Camino Real on the way back to LA. Brian planned on taking Route 1 down the coast over the course of two days. He was going to pop the question on the beach in Cambria. He had made reservations at a B&B and planned for a wine-tasting as well.

He reached over and squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. “I love you, too,” she smiled. “And I trust you on your choice of routes,” she gave him a haughty look and a wave that was meant to convey royal privilege.

He laughed. “I love you! And, thank you so much for your trust milady!”

****

Fiona Grey got the prompt I sent in: Nessie, the Loch Ness monster, decides she’s done playing coy and lets a boat full of tourists see her. How does that end? and she did a very cool piece with it. Head on over and check it out!

Thanks for reading and please join us over at More Odds than Ends. We’re a bit crazy and silly, but a lot of fun as well!

Posted on

Happy Independence Day

The Fourth of July, Independence Day. It is the celebration of our beginning as an independent nation and as a wild experiment in creating a functioning republican democracy. Yes, despite what those who consider themselves to be of superior intelligence like to claim…we ARE a democracy. That is not eliminated by the form of our democracy. We elect representatives to act on our behalf. Every adult citizen enjoys the right to vote (minus certain very specific circumstances such as having committed a felony). Thus we are a democracy.

A number of people today are posting the Declaration of Independence on Facebook. I like that as it provides a reminder of what exactly serves as the basis for our governmental structure. Reading through the declaration reminds one that not only are the ideals of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness the overarching goals, but that the basis for the Bill of Rights can be found in the list of values that were subverted by George III. Ideas such as restricting speech, the press, and religious observances, quartering soldiers in private homes, confiscating guns from colonists, taxing goods in the colonies when there was no representation in Parliament. Remember, everybody living in the American colonies prior to the Revolution was a British citizen. As such, they had rights that the king was obligated to recognize. He did not. Had he behaved in the same manner toward those British citizens living in the United Kingdom, the result would have likely been the same. Maybe not a shooting war, but he would have probably been obliged to abdicate.

We will be celebrating quietly at home (all firework displays in Philadelphia are cancelled). But our flag is out, and we will be remembering why today is a holiday.

Happy Independence Day!

Image by Circ OD from Pixabay