Call me (call me) on the line Call me, call me any, anytime Call me (call me) oh my love When you're ready we can share the wine Call me.......Thank you Blondie

This is a story that I started a few years ago. I shelved it due to not being sure what to do with my bad guy. I think I am going to start it again.

The stars were shining bright the first time she felt the wild breeze in her face.  This was a breeze like none other that she had ever felt.  It felt as though there was a message in the wind,  a strange message that she had never heard.  When you are a listener you can often hear a message in any breeze if you listen hard enough.  Sometimes the message is simple as someone saying they love you or that there is something going on that you want to see.  This was a new sound, one Kara had never heard and she really had to listen to hear it all.

This was a message of seasons passing and life going on.  Peoples lives end and that means that their seasons have passed.  Sometimes it is natural other times it isn’t.  This one wasn’t a natural passing this one was evil.  And there were so many things that the breeze was saying it was hard for Kara to tell all of the parts apart.  There were voices of love but also scary voices of nasty things that had happened.  Whenever the breeze took control of her it would be like she was leaving her body and this time was no different.  She was traveling in the breeze.

The first time that Kara breeze traveled it was so frightening but now it was not so bad.  She knew now that this was what she was born to do.  Everyone has their destiny, sometimes we aren't so lucky that we know what it is but Kara knew.  Most of the time she didn't mind but when she was a little girl it was frightening and she couldn't go to school because you never knew when a breeze might come and take her.  Or for how long it might take her away for that matter.  She never physically left it was only her mind that traveled on the breeze.  Thankfully for her the family understood and had home schooled her.  She was afraid to fall in love because she didn't know how to explain the traveling to anyone else and she knew that strangers would think that she was crazy or a witch.  People already did anyway.

This time what she was hearing was different.  She was hearing someone frightened and she felt she needed to get to them desperately.  She needed to help them, but she was held back by the whims of the gentle wind.  Sometimes it traveled fast but today it seemed so slow.  Maybe it was because she felt a real need to reach her destination.  She wasn't quite sure.  She knew that trying to fight the breeze or speed it up was futile.  

Kara decided to focus on the other sounds that she could here maybe she at least maybe she would have an idea of where she was being carried.  This was something she usually didn’t do but this time Kara felt like she really needed to know for reasons she really wasn’t quite sure of.  The main thing she hears was sobbing person, not really sobbing, it sounded almost like someone trying to sob as quietly as they possibly could.  Kara was focusing as hard as she could, but it felt as though the breeze was leaving her.


Traveling in a breeze is very much like body surfing in the ocean, minus the water.  You are at the mercy of the tides in the ocean and the capricious moods of the wind.  Kara was usually happy to wind surf as it were.  Tonight it was different.  As she slowly returned to her body she felt bad because she really wanted to help the sobbing stranger.  She sat at her window look out her open window at the stars trying to remember everything she heard.  All the while urging the breeze to come get her again and let her try and help this person.

The first breeze that took Kara was when she was around five years old and it seemed like a dream and it wasn’t scary somehow.  She figured that it was better that it happened when she was little because your fears really develop more as you get older.  It’s almost like we condition ourselves to be afraid.  Maybe we are even taught what to be afraid of, Kara was lucky her parents had never  instilled the fear of things that were different and face it riding the breeze was not what anyone would call normal.  Kara figured that most people could actually do it if they ever took the time to actually pay attention.  Maybe they thought they were dreaming or maybe they ignored it.  All that she thought was how nice it would be to have a friend her age that understood.

here was something about this place and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.  It was so cold, he had never felt such a bone chilling cold.  Sure he had been in cold places but this was different.  This was something he felt inside and not physically.   He felt as though he could feel someone looking at him but there was no one around him.  He looked around scanning to see if he had missed someone.  “No, there’s no one there,” Rick thought to himself.

He was a careful person, he had grown up in a decent sized town so he knew not everyone was as nice as they seemed.  He knew he wasn’t.  After all everyone has secrets, the only difference is the size and degree of the story.  Take his secrets for instance, no one would guess how deep his secrets were buried, or how many there were.   Sure he was a nice guy.  The type everybody trusted, a real boy next door.  The type everybody trusted with their secrets.

Now Rick, he didn’t trust anyone enough to tell his secrets, well not at first at least.  Usually it was the last thing he told them, you could even say that it was often the last secret they ever heard.   And he always told them privately like a lover to his lover or a confessor to their Priest as it were.  Isn’t it funny that the person you often trust the most is the person that you fear the  most?  It was that way for him.  He was sure now that he was safe and that no one was watching. 

He walked back to get his latest special friend, this secret was too good to not share.  Maybe this time it would be different, maybe she wouldn’t laugh at him, maybe she would even love him.  He almost giggled at the thought that someone could love him.  It made him giddy and even a little light headed at the thought.  He wasn’t so cold anymore this was definitely where he wanted to bring her.

He always liked his special friends and all the time he spent with them was so nice.  He needed to bring something’s here to make it perfect for her.  He wanted to make sure everything was just right.  It was probably the one of Rick’s favorite parts of making new friends and romances.  He hoped that her hair smelled good when he was closer, maybe he would get special shampoos for her so that he could be sure.  Aesthetics were so important to him, everything had to be just right or her couldn’t enjoy it as much.

He just wished that the darn breeze would stop blowing, he didn’t like the wind and he wasn’t sure why.  It was just one more thing that he didn’t trust and he wasn’t sure why.  The breeze made him nervous and it made good smells go away and bad smells come in.  Smells that made Rick nervous.

“How did I get here?”  Lydia thought to herself.  One minute she was jogging and the next thing she knew se woke up in this dark place.  To begin with Lydia screamed as loud as she could.  There was no one to hear her.  The longer she screamed without anyone hearing the more frightened Lydia became.  Why didn’t anyone hear her?  Now her throat her and all she could manage was a small whimper.

Rick hated to hear anyone scream, it made him both sad and angry.  He didn’t like it when he was angry, Rick became a different person when he was angry.  No one liked him like that.  He could hardly wait until they finally met, the anticipation was building in him.  Rick just knew that she would like him.  Rick almost hummed as he was bringing back the supplies that he needed.  Most of his “girlfriends” liked him at first, they almost seemed glad to meet him.  Why did it have to change.

Lydia was so confused, how did she get to where she was?  Her head hurt and it felt as though she had been sleeping.  She was trying to remember what had happened before she had fallen asleep.  Or was she really asleep?  Or had she been unconscious?  If she had been unconscious how did she come to be that way?  She realized that her wrist were tied and she was working to loosen them.  The more she seemed to wake up the more frightened she became.

So I love to write, and this is a small piece. Drop me a line......

Okay, I have thought it over and I am going to post a small piece of writing. I want input on it please.

The sweat is pouring off of her as she runs. She is sure that she is not running fast enough or quiet enough to get away. She imagines the smile on her tormentors face as they track her. She knows that they are taking great pleasure in her fear. She can smell her own fear. She knows they can. The only question she really has is why her? What made them want to terrorize her? How did she draw their attention?

Truth be told it was nothing she did that got their attention. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This was a game for them, a hunt. They enjoyed the rush that they felt in their blood as they chased someone. There was nothing like the thrill of smelling the fear in the sweat of a person. The adrenaline pumped and the high was the best that they had ever felt. Better than any drug or drink they had ever used.

The thoughts running through her head ranged from being afraid and being mad. A part of her wanted to stop and face them down, and the other part of her wanted to be able to get away. She was glad that she could run and knew the area. Maybe she could get away from them. She hoped that she could. Her chest hurt from the stress and the extra exertion from running so all out.

Music makes pictures and often tells stories All of it magic and all of it true And all of the pictures and all of the stories All of the magic, the music is you......Thank you John Denver

So much has happened since the last time we “talked”. I owe you a wordy post, full of brilliant prose and not full of bull. Unfortunately I am sick, this all started as a sore throat and has developed into a cold. It seems to be settling in my chest and I am a big baby when I get a chest cold. Well as a woman I claim this as something we by right can complain about.

There has been so much that has gone on as far as the house. For instance they took down our 1970’s fireplace. Oh boo hoo…. :,( It’s breaking my heart. Not! What was a wood burning fireplace that did not have an ash door to clean it out will now be a gas fireplace. To top that off it will have a remote control! Fun stuff! We actually have purchased a beautiful loves seat that will be in front of the fireplace. The nice thing about that is that it can be moved on fire nights. Sigh.

It had been so many years since we had a fire because at the time of Loma Prieta earthquake in 1989 it moved a bit and we just didn’t feel it was safe. My father had contacted the insurance company the same one that has been so great over this whole thing was not so great then. So I am so excited at the thought that even though I am not a big fire fan we will be able to have one. That is on the wall that I picked a great color for. I can hardly wait to show you!

We have lived in that house for so many years that we know our neighbors really well. I grew up having a playful football rivalry with our neighbor Hawk. He was my dad’s best friend. Has been ill, he recently had open heart surgery. I really miss being next door to this great man and look forward to being near him again. His brother George lives there with him, George stood next to our burning garage trying to tear down our front fence to get my mom, Kody and Loren from the backyard. Yes, they are good neighbors.

We have walls now! Real walls! The trim work starts tomorrow, ahead of schedule mind you. Yay! Then next week the painting. We just gave the contractors our paint choices. Some of us took to the last moment to pick our colors while Kody had hers picked out almost from the beginning. I was so busy picking out the colors for the contrasting walls that I almost lost track of the other walls. Thankfully Kody got me back on track.

I picked some different colors than anyone that knows me might expect. The ones I picked for Scotty’s and my bedroom are the real shocker. They are way off my normal color palette, all the more fun. We also have a beautiful new redwood fence. It is built so well it will definitely last for a long time. Tomorrow I will have some pictures for you. Plus I have a question to pose to all of my readers and please answer. I have been trying a few different story ideas and I might like to post some of a story with you if there is an interest. Please let me know.

'Cause I've had the time of my life and I owe it all to you......... Thank you Dirty Dancing.

Do you remember the first time you saw the love of your life? Do you remember how it felt when you realized that you really cared about this person? Did you fall in love first? Or were you wooed? I remember the first time I saw Scotty, he was working at my corner gas station. I was friendly with a coworker of his and she introduced us. He was so cute and so smart. I really enjoyed his company and I had a mad crush almost from the first time we met. I don’t think he even knows that today.

I truly believe that I at least was the first to fall into like. He has always been one of my favorite people to talk with. I couldn’t believe that this absolutely adorable guy was actually interested in spending time with me. Yes, I am older than him and that did present a problem in the fact that I did not think he would ever be interested in me. When he started to visit me at work and talk to me I was falling hard. I can remember him standing in the bowling alley and talking to me holding his motorcycle helmet wearing his leather jacket.

When he kissed me for the first time that was absolutely it! I was sunk, I had fallen so hard it was pitiful. Sigh. This year was the 21^st anniversary of that kiss and 20 years since we go married. You see we got married on the anniversary of our first kiss. He is still the love of my life and my best friend. I love you Honey!!

Walking down memory lane.

Today brought up a lot of memories for me. Memories of events in my life that have meant so much to me. I remember being a little girl and walking around the corner to visit with my grandpa and grandma. We lived in Rancho Cordova, California and we were blessed to have them around the corner. Now mind you I was three years old and I wasn’t supposed to leave the house. But, I was a slick chick. I knew how to time it so that I could sneak out and go around the corner when I knew they would be home from work.

I loved spending time with my grandpa in the kitchen. He was the one that did the majority of the cooking. I had a stool that I would sit in to watch him cook. To me this was my little spot of heaven. My grandparents would always ask me “Does your mom know where you are?” Whether it was true or not I always told them that she knew. Honestly I don’t remember how many times it was really true that I asked. My mom tells me that she would notice I was gone and know exactly where I was.

Holidays were wonderful! The smells in his kitchen were always the best. Grandpa could cook like no one I knew. Ours was the perfect relationship. I would talk his ear off and he was always more than thrilled to let me rattle on. He was a man of few words and was always more than glad to let someone else carry the conversation. Don’t get me wrong, he would talk too. Just not nonsense talk like a small child might. I am not sure how much was nonsense though because I learned a lot of things from Egon Warnke.

He was one of the smartest people you might ever meet. He could do logarithms in his head out to the eighth place in his head. I have a problem doing them on paper and certainly not out to the eighth place. He was a self-educated man, he was forced to leave school in middle school to help support the family as many young men were in those days. He was born in 1908. He never served in a war because he had a glass eye from a mishap with one of his sisters as a youngster.

He worked as a drafter as a young man until you had to have a degree to do the job. He didn’t let that stop him, neither did he let not having a full education stop him. He was a hardworking man from strong stock. His mom, my great grandma was a strong, strong woman. When she married my grandpa's stepfather who wasn’t a citizen of the US she lost her citizenship and her right to vote. She did obtain her citizenship again.

In the days that she was widowed a woman wasn’t allowed to own the title to property so the farm was in her oldest son’s name. Grandma Cerr would get up early in the morning to make breakfast for the farm workers then go to work in the fields. Then she would leave the field to make lunch for them. While they ate she would return to the field to work. She would work as hard as any man. Grandpa learned well what it was like for a woman to be strong. This was something he always worked to instill in my mom and then later in my sister and I.

My grandfather was way ahead of his time. He always believed in equal rights for all. It didn’t matter who you were he believed you were his equal. I know many men born years after him that aren’t as evolved as he was. I am sure that it was because of his mom. He lived until about a month before his 99^th birthday. He saw many things in his rich lifetime. He was a jewel.

You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold, You're daddy's little girl to have and to hold. Thank you Michael Buble

Today has been a bittersweet day for me. I had to say goodbye to an important part of our kids’ lives. Especially the girls. In the backyard had been a peach tree that my dad had planted when I was a teenager. This tree was a somewhat miniature tree. It was small enough that our kids at least the girls could climb it. They were 4 and 5 at the time. Loren was only 2 so climbing it didn’t interest him, but he loved sitting in the shade underneath it.

As happens in all great things lives the peach tree had reached its end. It was a dying out, after all it was nearly 20 years old. It had been a faithful tree. My dad decided it was time to get rid of the tree. It was time for a new tree, new life as it were. He explained to the girls that we would plant a new pretty and healthy tree. He used all this wonderful adult logic. Silly man. J

That went over about as well as I am sure you are all guessing. They were so upset. You would expect tears and such but not our girls. No siree! Those little ladies decided that they were going to strike. They were going to fight for what they wanted. Here was 4 year old Kody marching around the tree and yelling “Don’t cut down the tree!” I am sure that it could be heard for miles around.

Where was Kacy you ask? She was in the front room making a picket signs for Kody to march with and making a petition. She was convinced that if she could get signatures she could persuade her beloved Papa to change his mind. She went to every adult in the house asking us to sign her petition including their Papa. She was a girl with a purpose.

Now my dad was a sap for all of his grandkids but especially the three girls. My niece Stephanie, Kacy and Kody could wrap that man around their pinkies. So could the boys my nephew Ryan and Loren but it wasn’t quite the same. Dad wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He wanted to laugh when she asked him but he didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

As with any good strike management had a meeting to see what they might do for the striking worker bees. My dad and Scotty were trying to figure a way around this. My mom and I smartly decided that we weren’t getting in the middle of that argument. They finally decided that my dad would cut down the worst of it and leave the kids the trunk and the Y where they liked to sit.

Now this was a decision that both Papa and the girls could agree too. There was a contract drawn up and all the parties signed it saving that tree. The kids all climbed that tree for years. Until they grew out of that stage and then it was still a favorite place to sit. We never got rid of it because it was a wonderful reminder of the man my dad was.

Today when I saw the backyard I was amazed at our beautiful fence because I had not had a chance to say goodbye to our peach tree. I was ready to cry, I still am. Silly I know, but that tree was a tie to my dad that I lost in May, 2001. I have other ties but it was one more thing that we lost this year. But, above all we have each other. I love you Dad! I am still a daddy’s girl.

If I'd forgotten how to sing before I'd sung this song I'll write it all across the wall before my job is done And I'll even have the courtesy of admitting I was wrong As the final words before I'm dead and gone......Thank you Brendon Urie and Panic! at the Disco.

Daily thoughts from the “Evil Queen” throne….or whatever enters my mind….Bwah hah hah!!

So what thoughts cross my mind in my throne….good question my friends. I can report that my scary writing has jumped rather well. But when my own writing scares me I need to mellow the heck out. Or not. What do people like to read? I personally love a good scary book. Seeing my glowing face in the mirror across the long hall from me in the dark while reading said scary book not quite as fun. But it is darn funny.

When you read a book do you read different characters with different voices? I do with some characters. I have favorite books with characters that I love and have created voices and personalities for them. Does whether you like a character or not affect how you read them? If a character is really a hateful one I hear a sinister voice, a voice that can set your teeth on edge.

If you write do you guide your character or does the character guide your writing. I have been asked by my test readers about characters in my stories about where they are going or what is going to happen with them. My answer is always I don’t know, they haven’t told me. It’s true too. I have an idea of the path that my story will take but when I am writing the characters and actions write themselves as I am going.

The real problem lays with when they stop talking to me. I can be going really good and be distracted for just 30 seconds and it’s all gone. Or worse when we had the fire and I thought I had lost it all on my computer. Thankfully Scotty was checking his email and he realized that I had sent it to him.  I have it again but I lost my train of thought. I lost my characters.

Maybe that is what my attraction to my “throne” is. Maybe I am hoping that I can recapture that fire fly in a jar again. Is this writer’s block? Or was my book not as good as I thought it was? I feel like maybe they are still there, I just need to reconnect with them. Like an old friend you run into after years of being apart. I really hope it is that way me with my book.

I have started writing again though, I started a book that I am not sure where it is going, where it has been, or how old it will get. I am just goofing off……