Time Sure Flies by Roseanne Dowell

 

Here it is November already. Time sure flies. Last year at this time I posted something I was thankful for every day on Facebook. I decided not to do that this year. It's not that I'm not thankful, I am. Blessed and thankful. And there's so much to be thankful for, my husband, my children, their spouses, my grandchildren, and their spouses, and my great-grandchildren What more could a person ask for?

I have a nice home, not fancy by any means, but I'm not a fancy person and it's comfortable. Lived in and it meets my needs and there's always food on the table. We live a simple life, always have. Our entertainment comes by way of our kids mostly and a few friends whose company we enjoy.  I manage to keep busy between Bible Study, and other church activities. Besides writing, which I've not been doing much of since my characters refuse to talk to me, I enjoy my embroidery machine. 

Lately, I've been doing a lot of table runners for dinners at our church. I'm on the Fellowship committee and I can't tell you how much I enjoy it. I work with a great group of women and we always have a good time. Besides that, I love to cook, and helping to cook for a large group makes it worthwhile. I look forward each month to our dinners. 

I'm sure there's a story there someplace and I'm betting Aunt Beatrice Lulu would be involved in some harebrained scheme. If she'd only talk to me. The only reason I can think of as to why she's giving me the silent treatment is her sister, Ethel started the next story. I'm afraid Aunt Beatrice Lulu is a bit jealous. To make matters worse, Ethel isn't talking to me anymore either. So I sit and stare at blank pages. I'm sure one of these days Aunt Beatrice Lulu will start talking again. It's not like her to remain quiet for too long. She's too much of a busy body. 

But until then, I'll have to be content with my embroidery.  I really love that machine and I found some websites with excellent designs, some of them are even free. Last year I made the kids several gifts from the embroidery machine. Not sure what I'll do this year. Right now, I started on the table runners for the November dinner we'll be doing at church. It takes an hour just to embroider the text and I'm adding a cornucopia to it also. Not sure how long that will take to stitch out. So I usually do two a day. 

If anyone has any ideas for Aunt Beatrice Lulu put them in the comment section. If she uses them, we'll be sure to mention you in the acknowledgments. 

You can find all of my books at BWL

I'm Back!!

It's been a while since I've posted. I needed a break. It's difficult writing every day (or trying to) and doing a blog once a month. Plus we moved - that was a good thing. I love our new house - well it's hardly new 50 years old, but new to us.
It needed a lot of work before we could even move in and we only had a little over a week to do it. Thank God for kids. The house was filthy. I don't think there was a room that didn't have food on the walls. Seriously. I don't know if they had food fights or what, but we had to wash them before we could paint them Did I say wash? Scrub is more like it.
And the bathroom needed gutted. Believe it or not there was a big hole in the tub right by the drain. We had the house inspected before we bought it. We noticed the black spot in the tub. Just figured the enamel was chipped. The tub was disgustingly dirty. Talk about scum.  Anyway, the inspector obviously didn't notice the hole either.  He ran the water for almost 15 minutes to make sure it drained. Oh it drained alright. Right under the tub,  We didn't notice it until I was done scrubbing the tub with bleach. My poor hands were red from scrubbing.
So, my son ordered us a new tub, and tried to save the tile, but that didn't work, so we got new tile around the tub and drywall in the rest of the bathroom.  Apparently a pipe broke at some point and the bottom of the vanity was warped. So that had to go also. The only thing we kept was the toilet.  Not that I mind, I love it.
I teased my son about putting in just a shower. Now I wish we had. I haven't taken a bath in several years, so a walk in shower would have been so much nicer. Oh well, live and learn. - Oh, that's the title of the 4th book in the Family Affair series, I've been working on, or trying to at least. Aunt Beatrice Lulu isn't cooperating too well. I guess she's upset because Ethel is writing it and not her.
Everything's not about Beatrice Lulu after all. Of course you'd never convince her of that. Her sweet husband, Ed, doesn't help matters. He worships the ground she walks on. At least most of the time.
If you've read the three previous books, you'll know how much trouble Beatrice Lulu gets into, and usually drags Ethel and Lottie with her. Ethel especially, because Lottie is busy babysitting grandchildren. I guess Ethel will never learn either, because she goes along with Beatrice Lulu's crazy adventures.
All in the Family, Book 1 in the series, introduces Aunt Beatrice Lulu, even though the book isn't about her. Here's an  excerpt:

Usually Callie enjoyed dinner with her grandmother. The judge never ceased to amaze her. She kept a busy schedule, yet still managed to keep house and entertain regularly. Where or how she found the time to clean, cook, and bake was beyond Callie. Lately, though, Gram had been getting on Callie’s case almost as bad as her mother and sister about getting married.

She pulled into Gram’s drive and groaned. Not only would she have to deal with her grandmother, mother, and sister, Aunt Beatrice Lulu was here. Not her favorite person. She eased out of the car. May as well face the music.

Callie’s grandmother greeted her at the door. “How’s the new Police Chief?” Gram’s smile beamed with pride. One thing she’d give Gram credit for, she was proud of her children and grandchildren.

“I’m doing well.” Callie hugged and kissed her. “How are you?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Busy. Jim Landry thinks I should retire.”

“Maybe you should. Take life easy. You’ve certainly earned it.” Callie suppressed a grin. Truth be known, Jim Landry was sweet on Gram.

“And just what would I do with my time?” Gram put her hands on her hips and frowned at Callie. “You young people think everything is solved by retiring.”

“Well, you could travel. Or you could spend more time with Jim.”

Gram waved her hand, but Callie caught the blush on her cheeks before she turned away. “Posh. What makes you think I need to spend more time with Jim?”

 “Well you’re always telling me I should get married. Maybe you should consider it.”

“I was married, remember? And to a very good man. No way could I replace him. Get married, the very idea.”

“Gramps has been gone a long time, Gram. And Jim’s every bit as good. He’s sweet on you, you know.”

Commotion from the other room saved Gram from answering. Callie followed her grandmother into the living room.

Aunt Beatrice Lulu sat in the middle of the floor. Everyone stared open mouthed, looking scared to speak.

“What in the hell are you doing on the floor?” Gram covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Are you okay? Do I need to call 911?”

“No. You don’t need to call 911. Help me up, for God’s sake.”

“What the hell are you doing on the floor to begin with?”

“I fell. What does it look like?” Aunt Beatrice Lulu took the hand Gram offered.

“I can see that. But what happened?”

At that moment, Aunt Beatrice Lulu spotted Callie. Oh boy, here it came. Her nasally voice grated on Callie’s nerves. Okay, it wasn’t her fault, adenoids or something caused it, but it was still annoying. Sometimes Callie thought her aunt exaggerated it. Maybe she didn’t, but right now it sounded worse than usual, and Callie wasn’t in the mood to listen to her, even if she sounded normal.

Why couldn’t everyone just let her live her life? What made them think they could tell her what to do? Aunt Beatrice Lulu wasn’t the only one. Oh no, Callie’s mother, her sister, heck even Jim Landry weighed in on what she should do with her life or what man she should meet. Everyone was always setting her up with blind dates.

Beatrice Lulu. What kind of name was that anyway? And don’t anyone dare shorten it to Aunt Bea or Aunt Beatrice. Oh, no. It had to be the whole name, or everyone would catch what for.

Callie remembered when she was little-she called her Aunt Bea once. Wasn’t that what Opie Taylor on Andy Griffith reruns called his aunt? Callie thought it was cute. Lord above, you’d of thought she’d put a curse on her aunt or something. She thought she’d never hear the end of it.

That woman ranted and raved for almost an hour about how her name was Beatrice Lulu, not Bea, not Beatrice. It was the name she was born with, the name she was christened, and the name she’d die with. It’s the name she expected people to use. Obviously she was proud of her name, but did she have to go on so? Callie never made that mistake again. No, ma’am. From then on she used her whole name and so did everyone else. All except Uncle Ed, that is.

Callie would never forget when her aunt met Uncle Ed. She about fell out of her chair laughing. Aunt Beatrice Lulu stood there staring at him like she wanted to bash him over the head or something.

Uncle Ed is a big man.  Big--like six feet six or more. Most people are overwhelmed by his height. A giant of a man, he towered over everyone and his shoulders, lord above, they were almost as wide as the doorway. And he had this loud, bellowing voice that vibrated off the walls and back at you. His black curly hair fell in a curl on his forehead, and bushy dark eyebrows sat above the roundest, darkest blue eyes Callie’d ever seen. His straight nose, mustache, square jaw, and creases at the corner of his eyes, as well as his tan, gave him a rugged appearance. Sexy. Ruggedly handsome. Magnum PI or the Marlboro Man. 

Aunt Beatrice Lulu didn’t look impressed. Not that Uncle Ed noticed. He just walked right up to her. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” he said. “Bet you got a pretty name to match.”

Callie’d never heard anyone refer to her aunt as pretty before. Or little. Nothing about her aunt was little. Okay, she wasn’t huge, but suffice to say she had some added bulk. Nothing Callie’d call pretty about her. Aunt Beatrice Lulu’s nose was too big for her face, her lips too small, and her squinty dark brown, almost black eyes looked beady at best. She pulled her mousy brown hair so tight into a bun on top of her head-Callie swore it pulled every wrinkle out of her face. She usually sat with her arms crossed over her ample bosom and resting on her paunchy stomach. Nope, nothing pretty about her. Portly, but not pretty. Obviously, Uncle Ed thought differently. 

You can read more about the books at: BWL Publishing