Meet Beatrice Lulu

I’m Beatrice Lulu Eberhardt. Some of you know me from my niece, Callie Johnson. Callie’s the police chief of our little town, and I first appeared in her book, All in the Family. 

Callie’s my favorite niece, but she doesn’t know it. I’ve annoyed her sometimes because I tried to fix her up with a nice young man, well several nice young men, over the years. I didn’t want her ending up an old maid like I almost was. I say almost, because Ed came along and saved me that fate – I shudder to think what my life would have been like without him.  

Callie didn’t care for any of the men I introduced her to. Picky little thing in my opinion. Praise God, she finally met a nice young man on her own. 

But that’s neither here nor there. This story isn’t about Callie. It’s about me. That’s right, ME, and pretty much no one else. I consider myself a bit of a sleuth. Some call me nosy or a busy body, but honestly, I’m only trying to help. I don’t mean to interfere. I can’t help if I have a curious nature. I’ve always been that way, but got worse as I got older. 

It actually all started when Ed and I bought a cabin. It’s a beautiful place with its own lake because Ed loves to fish. We thought it would be fun to have a place just for us, away from everyone. You may not remember I’m from a large, crazy family. Crazy in a fun-loving way, of course. So Ed and I wanted a place to relax away from it all, not that it’s turned out that way. We’re seldom alone. Guess it’s because we genuinely like people. So now days when we go up there, someone always comes along. Usually Ethel and her husband, Greg. Ethel’s my sister, by the way. I have two other sisters, also – Charlotte, we call her Lottie, and Lillian. Lillian is Callie’s mother, and not as much fun as the rest of us. We also have a brother, Clyde, but we don’t see him as often. 

Anyway, we bought the cabin, and Ed and I went up there to clean it up. No one had been in it for years. Cobwebs filled more than the corners, I’ll tell you that. It was going to take days, if not weeks, to clean it. But Ed promised we could fix it up and Ed never breaks a promise. That’s one of the things I love about him. 

So there we were looking around, figuring out what to do, and Ed decided to build a fire to take the chill and damp out of the air. The place smelled musty, the way empty houses smell after being locked up for a long time. 

Well there I was, thinking about where to start when I heard a strange clattering noise. I thought Ed fell or something. I turned around and lying on the fireplace hearth was an arm – well what was left of the arm, bones and tattered flannel from a shirt, I assume. Although I’ve been told never to assume anything. 

If you want to know what happens next you’ll have to read about it in All’s Well That Ends Well 

If you haven’t read All in the Family – Book 1 of the Family Affair series, you can find it and all my books at Books We Love

1. 
   
   . Justclick on the book and it’ll take you to the buy page

Meet Aunt Beatrice Lulu

 I’m Beatrice Lulu Eberhardt. Some of you know me from my niece, Callie Johnson. Callie’s the police chief of our little town, and I first appeared in her book, All in the Family. 

Callie’s my favorite niece, but she doesn’t know it. I’ve annoyed her sometimes because I tried to fix her up with a nice young man, well several nice young men, over the years. I didn’t want her ending up an old maid like I almost was. I say almost because Ed came along and saved me that fate – I shudder to think what my life would have been like without him.  

Callie didn’t care for any of the men I introduced her to. Picky little thing in my opinion. Praise God, she finally met a nice young man on her own. 

But that’s neither here nor there. This story isn’t about Callie. It’s about me. 

That’s right, ME, and pretty much no one else. I consider myself a bit of a sleuth. Some call me nosy or a busy body, but honestly, I’m only trying to help. I don’t mean to interfere. I can’t help if I have a curious nature. I’ve always been that way but got worse as I got older.

 

It actually all started when Ed and I bought a cabin. It’s a beautiful place with its own lake because Ed loves to fish. We thought it would be fun to have a place just for us, away from everyone. You may not remember I’m from a large, crazy family. Crazy in a fun-loving way, of course. So Ed and I wanted a place to relax away from it all, not that it’s turned out that way. We’re seldom alone. Guess it’s because we genuinely like people. 

So nowadays when we go up there, someone always comes along. Usually Ethel and her husband, Greg. Ethel’s my sister, by the way. I have two other sisters, also – Charlotte, we call her Lottie, and Lillian. Lillian is Callie’s mother, and not as much fun as the rest of us. We also have a brother, Clyde, but we don’t see him as often. 

Anyway, we bought the cabin, and Ed and I went up there to clean it up. No one had been in it for years. Cobwebs filled more than the corners, I’ll tell you that. It was going to take days, if not weeks, to clean it. But Ed promised we could fix it up and Ed never breaks a promise. That’s one of the things I love about him. 

So there we were looking around, figuring out what to do, and Ed decided to build a fire to take the chill and damp out of the air. The place smelled musty, the way empty houses smell after being locked up for a long time. 

So, there I was, thinking about where to start when I heard a strange clattering noise. I thought Ed fell or something. I turned around and lying on the fireplace hearth was an arm – well what was left of the arm, bones and tattered flannel from a shirt, I assume. 

Although I’ve been told never to assume anything. 

If you want to know what happens next you’ll have to read about it in All’s Well That Ends Well published by BWL Publishing. 

 

 

 

If you haven’t read All in the Family – Book 1 of the Family Affair series, you can find it and all my books at Books We Love. Just click on the book and it’ll take you to the buy page. 

The Man With The Hat

 

 

The Man with the Hat

Buying a first home is exciting at best. Our purchase was just that. An older home, needing much work, but it was ours. The first night my husband went back to work after we moved into our almost century old home, I went to bed exhausted, but happy.

Just as I dozed off, a noise came from the basement.  Our dog started barking. Scared half out of my wits, I picked up the phone and called my sister, who lived two streets away. She sent her husband over to check things out.

Doug looked around the house and didn’t see anything unusual. However, my dog refused to come into the dining room.  She stood in the hall growling and barking. Normally, a quiet dog, this was unusual for her.  Doug called her from the kitchen. She didn’t move. I called from the living room. She refused to come to either one of us. Her gaze focused on something across the room. Neither Doug nor I saw anything. Surely, if it was a mouse, she would have chased it. Her actions perplexed us.

Doug, seeing my fear, suggested we pack up my kids and spend the night at their house. I’m sure he just wanted to go home to bed.

In the morning, we returned home and all seemed normal. All day our dog ran through the house with the kids. Nothing distracted her.

That night the same thing happened. This time, as Doug started down the basement steps, he stopped, came back, and took a knife out of the kitchen drawer.

He swore someone was watching him. He checked out the basement and everything seemed normal. Again, we spent the night at their house. 

This went on for several nights. Doug came over and took us to his house.  The nights Roger was home we didn’t hear anything and the dog remained calm. Roger insisted it was my imagination, but Doug confirmed the actions of the dog.

When Roger went to work, it happened again. This time Doug brought a tape recorder to our house and set it up in the dining room before we left.

The next day, we played the tape.  Sounds of our dog growling and barking were predominant, but in the background were other sounds that we couldn’t identify. Sounds like chains being pulled across the floor and others noises sounding like scratches and moans.

No doubt, Doug was getting tired of picking us up every night, and I’m sure my sister, although she didn’t say anything, was tired of us intruding. Besides, I I wasn’t crazy about waking my kids every night. Eventually, I’d have to stay home. Noise or no noise. I’d just have to get used to it. This was our home after all. Somehow, I tuned out the noises, quieted the dog and managed to sleep.

A few days later, my three daughters played upstairs in their room.  They screamed and ran down stairs.  “There’s a man up there,” they cried in unison.

Since we’d been home all day, it was impossible. But to appease them, I went up to check.  They insisted a man with a hat had been watching them.

Of course, no one was there.  I explained it was a shadow of a bird going past the window.   Although the room felt much colder than normal, and I had an eerie feeling.

My daughters described him clearly, a tall man, in a brown suit coat, wearing a hat. They couldn’t make out his face, but they said he watched them play.

After that, they refused to play upstairs, and I often had a hard time getting them to go to bed at night.

Up until then things had been normal during the daylight hours. Now it seemed our nightly visitor had decided to appear when it was light out, too.

Also, until then, Roger thought it was my vivid writer’s imagination.  That is, he did, until one day, he was working in the basement.  He came upstairs, white faced.

“What’s wrong,” I asked.

“I just saw a man wearing a hat watching me. At first it was a shadow. But as I stared at it, his form became clearer.”

That shook me up. He described the man the same as the kids, we had a ghost. Roger now realized the noises weren’t my overactive imagination

I finally met some of the neighbors and told them my feelings of being watched.  I didn’t mention the man.

One neighbor said it was probably our nosy neighbor looking in the windows. I knew this wasn’t the case, but didn’t elaborate.

I asked another neighbor about the people who lived there before us.

“Oh, a nice old couple lived there. The wife died a long time ago. Her husband, John lived alone for a long time,” she said.   

Later I found out John died in the very bedroom I slept in.  Eventually I told my friend about some of the things that were going on. I asked about John and she said he was a nice old man, who kept mostly to himself. “He loved to work in his garden and yard. Funny,” she said. “He always wore a brown suit coat and a hat.”

John was our ghost. He appeared many times after that. Roger often saw him, especially when we remodeledthe kitchen. One of my sons said John used to sit on a chair upstairs and watch him play.

I never saw John, but I heard him and often smelled cologne or after shave. Several years later he simply disappeared.

You can find all of my books here. 

Happy Thanksgiving A Bit Early

 

 

The holiday season is almost upon us. My favorite time of year and it begins with Thanksgiving. Actually, in my house, it begins a week or so before.

Since we no longer host Christmas with my children – too many of them for our small house – the kids have taken over. However, we still do Thanksgiving dinner here – with a couple of the kids and the rest come over later for dessert – so I put up our tree and Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving.

When the kids were small, we used to put up the tree the day after Thanksgiving. Neighbors all told me we were nuts. Funny, how many trees and decorations I see on Thanksgiving, and even before now days. It warms my heart. Guess I wasn’t so crazy after all.

Anyway, as I said the holidays start with Thanksgiving. Of course, we have the traditional turkey and dressing (after the blessing – oh wait that’s a Christmas song) and then the other kids come over – as well as grandkids – and we have dessert. Usually more than we can possibly eat.

It’s been my tradition ever since my kids got married to give them something on Thanksgiving, usually a Christmas decoration of some sort. I was into ceramics for a while, so naturally they got ceramics, a Santa Claus ornament or statue. Then I was into woodworking and made them Santas, Christmas trees or other ornament. Eventually I was into red work embroidery and made them wall hangings of – who else – Santa Claus. I started quilting and yep, you guessed it, I made them table runners – no not of Santa Claus – and wall hangings (Santa of course). Eventually I started buying them ornaments.

My son and daughter in law begged me not to get them anything this year. They’re out of wall space and their tree is full of ornaments. I’ll have to see what I can come up with, because no way am I breaking that tradition. That’s part of the fun of the holiday season. Maybe I’ll be nice this year and look for Santa Claus candy, something consumable.

When I was younger, my mom started baking the day after Thanksgiving, making huge cans (potato chip cans and not the small ones) full of cookies. Back then everyone entertained and visited a lot during the holidays. Sadly, that practice seems to have stopped.  There wasn’t a weekend that went by without some aunt or uncle coming to visit. I loved those days. I don’t bake as much as I used to and certainly don’t start the day after Thanksgiving.

The first weekend in December, my daughters and I spent the days shopping. They used to help me pick out gifts for their children, but since their kids are all grown up now, (well most of them are, I still have a couple young ones) I don’t need to shop for them anymore. I’ve taken the lazy, safe route and give them cash. I’m sure they like it better. Once they’ve moved out or married, they join the ranks of the adult couples gifts, usually something homemade now since we’ve retired and money is tight.

Christmas Eve is spent with my siblings – two brothers and a sister. We’ve lost a sister and brother some years back and it’s not quite the same. Nieces and nephews used to join us, but that was back before most of them married. Now they have other families to share the day with and we’ve dwindled from a group of 37 down to 8 plus a couple nieces and nephews whose families are out of town.

I still love the holidays and look forward to them as much or more than any child. The hustle and bustle of getting ready, the family gatherings, and spending time with loved ones. I’m very blessed and thankful to have all my children and most of my grandchildren within twenty minutes of me. We miss the ones who can’t join us, but it’s still a lively group and growing by leaps and bounds. Not only are some of the grandchildren married or dating, they’re having children of their own. I dread the day when their parents decide it’s too much and they want their own families around them for the holiday. I know that day will come, maybe sooner than I think, and it’ll sadden me, but I do understand. We had to do it also as our kids grew and had families of their own. But for now, I’ll enjoy what God has so richly blessed me with. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Time to Love Again

 The man next door, his granddaughter and her sister’s ghost help bring Rose Asbury out of her seclusion. Fifty-eight year old, Rose Asbury knows people think she’s a recluse, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be left alone. She doesn’t need anyone and no one needs her and that’s just fine. At least she didn’t until this year. For some reason this year is different. Suddenly she’s melancholy and discontent with her life..

And the man next door doesn't help matters. Every time he sees her, he insists on speaking to her. So her stomach tumbles every time she sees him, that doesn't mean anything. Hunger pains, nerves, she just wishes he'd leave her alone. Or does she? 

What's this world coming to? or The Saga of the Missing Shed

So, we ordered a shed online last month to be delivered May 1st. According to the website it would be delivered between 6AM and 8 PM and a phone call half hour before delivery.
In my humble opinion, I thought 6 AM was an insane time to be delivering anything, but especially with a truck that has a lift gate, and the use of a hand  pallet jack. Pulling that up a driveway would be extremely loud.
That being said, we never received a phone call, nor did we receive our shed. However the next morning at a little past 5 AM, I woke up and checked the status of our shed. It said delivered 11:51 PM on May 1st.
WHAT!!! who delivers anything at nine minutes to midnight? I clicked on the tracking option and it said delivered 10:44 PM on May 1st.
Now, I'm not a genius, but that's a whole hours difference in time. Which was it 10:44 (at which time I was still up and watching TV) I would have heard the truck out front and also the pallet jack coming up the driveway. Besides that, my husband pulled the car in the driveway at 9:00. They would have had to leave it behind the car. AND, they never called.
Needless to say, I was annoyed. I went outside, walked all around the car and of course it wasn't there.
I'm pretty sure no one stole it. It weighed 400#s was 6 feet long and 3 feet wide according to the website.
So, where was it?
Either they delivered it to the wrong house, in which case when you saw it,  wouldn't you either call Home Depot or come down the street to where it should have been delivered? I know I would have probably done both.
So,  I waited until 6 AM when the stores open and called the number on the website. I spoke with a real nice lady who put me on hold a couple times while she did some checking. Unfortunately, on one of the holds we got cut off.
So, I called back. Explained to the new person what happened, and he saw all her notes. He put me on hold, called the trucking company (who more than likely doesn't work on Saturday) and left them a message for them to call me directly.
If anyone has tried to call Home Depot during the day, you'll discover they are experiencing a high volume of calls and the hold could be 45 minutes. Unfortunately, the people I spoke with Saturday couldn't tell me which Home Depot the shed came from, but it wasn't from the store I ordered it..
Figuring the trucking company probably didn't work on Saturday, I waited until Monday to pursue the matter. I was awake again by 6 AM so called Home Depot again, explained the situation, which she had notes from the previous phone calls, but she said they'd have to wait until 9 AM to speak with the trucking company because that's what time they opened and that I should call back later.
I requested they call me back because I wasn't sitting on hold for 45 minutes or longer.
She insisted I call back, so I asked to speak to her supervisor. Who praise the Lord, gave me the name and phone number of the store that supposedly delivered it. She also gave me the manager's name and told me to speak directly with him. She said she spoke to him and he was going to contact the trucking company at 9:00.The reason they couldn't call me back is they have a call only line. True or not, I don't know.
Oh and he told her the shed was delivered at 11:15 (another different time).  She very nicely told him they don't deliver anything that late.
I waited until 11 to call the store since I hadn't heard from the manager. I mean how difficult is it to call a trucking company and speak to them about what happened to the shed. Of course he told me to wait until Monday and he'd call me after he talked with the trucking company.
11:30 AM Monday, May 4th, and I still hadn't heard from anyone.
If anyone has tried to call Home Depot during the day, you'll discover they are experiencing a high volume of calls and the hold could be 45 minutes.
So, I finally called the store, asked for him, and of course got put on hold for five minutes, then told he wasn't answering his phone.  But she took my number and said she'd have him call me.
Well he finally did.  Funny thing, he said he was talking to the trucking company as we spoke, but what was the order number of the shed. Seriously! If you're speaking to him, you must have the order number or why would you be speaking to him?
So,  they checked into what happened to the shed and if it got delivered to the wrong house.  Now how could they possibly know that, if they had my address and said it was delivered. How could they know which house it went to. Oh and my house numbers are quite large, so not easy to miss them.
The manager said they'd figure it out and get a shed out to me.
I had to call them back yet again to find out when they were getting the shed out to me. Finally it got delivered a couple of days later. Of course with all the rain we'd been having, there was no way to put the shed up.
Until Memorial Day weekend that is. My sons came to put it up and all was going well until they were almost done.
A piece was missing. the right corner  panel.  So, of course I called the store. Was told we'd have to bring the shed back and they'd give us another one. Seriously, I'm not kidding.
Yeah, like that was going to happen. She insisted that's what we'd have to do and I asked to speak to the manager. I explained it all again, told him we weren't taking it apart and bringing it back to the store - it weighed 400 lbs.  Not to mention they were almost done putting it together. Besides, what difference did it make if we brought the shed back with a missing part than if they gave us the part from another shed. Either way they'd have a shed with a missing part.  So, he put me on hold while he checked if they even had the shed. Several minutes later I got disconnected. Called back, got the manager again and he gave me to someone else. Nope, they didn't have that shed, besides it came from a different store so call them.
So call them I did and asked to speak to the manager, who I'd become quite friendly with since I'd spent so much time with him on the phone to begin with when the shed was missing. He said they had the shed, so I sent my sons to pick up the piece.
Well....the only shed they had was one for parts and, of course, the part we needed was gone.  They even let my sons check. Nope, that part was definitely gone. So they suggested we call another store, which I did. Meanwhile, my sons were on the way to store I was calling.
I, again, asked for the manager, explained the situation. He put me on hold, which I again got disconnected from after a long wait. Called back, got him again, and he apologized, but he was with a customer and didn't have time to check for the shed.  I told him my sons were on the way and they'd ask for him. By time we hung up, my sons were pulling in the parking lot.
Well, after checking, nope they didn't have the shed. The manager was nice enough to check with other stores in the area and that shed wasn't available within 100 miles of us.
So...I called my friendly manager back from the store that delivered it. He said he'd order the part from the manufacturer but he doubted they were open. It was Saturday after all. He promised to call them Tuesday morning, and would call me back then also. I did ask for something more off for my inconvenience - even though it wasn't their fault. But they did sell the shed, and I am inconvenienced.
So shed is partially up, missing one panel and door.  Looks pretty good even that way.
Tuesday morning, I again called because of course they didn't call me by 11:00. He said he contacted the manufacturer and the panel would be shipped, but due to Covid 19, it would probably take 3 to 4 weeks. And he agreed to send me a gift card for my inconvenience. Since it wasn't the stores fault, I couldn't ask for anything more. I wasn't out to gouge them after all. On the other hand, if the shed had been delivered as promised, we would have been putting it together that weekend and maybe, just maybe, one of the stores would still have had the shed in stock and we could have gotten the part. But nonetheless, it's a done deal and I can't do anything but wait for the part to come.
So that's what's happening in my world. As my mama used to say, "This too shall pass."

Excerpt from Geriatric Rebels:

Peeking around the corner into the dimly lit halls, Mike watched the pretty silver-haired lady slip into a dark room. What was she up to? He looked up and down the hall to make sure no one was around and followed her. Next thing he knew, he ran smack into her.
“Whoa,” she whispered. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Maybe I should ask you that question,” Mike answered. “This isn’t your room.” A tiny little thing, she barely came up to his shoulders. She put her hands behind her back, and Mike chuckled. What was she hiding? “I’m night security,” he lied. “What’s behind your back?”
She lowered her head and brought out a water pitcher. “It was only a joke.”
Mike took her arm. “You better come with me.” He led her to the hall after a quick check to make sure it was still empty. “So you’re the one stealing the pitchers.” She shivered and for a moment he felt sorry for her. What a mean trick, but he couldn’t help himself. He pushed open the exit door.
“Where are we going?” Elsa stiffened and tried to pull away. “Where are you taking me?”
Her timid tone melted Mike. Time to confess. Damn, too late.
“Wait just a dog-gone minute.” She pulled away from him. “How do I know who you are? Where’s your uniform?  Show me some identification.”
Although she spoke in whispers, the tone of her voice showed Mike she wasn’t buying his act. Surprised by her sudden change of attitude, he stopped, raised his hands in surrender, and grinned at her.
“Who are you? Where do you think you’re taking me?” She glared at him with the lightest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes that right now, he swore pierced into his. “You’re a burglar, aren’t you?” She tapped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you think for one minute, I’m going out that door with you, think again, buddy.”
Mike stifled a laugh, finding her amusing, obviously she didn’t trust him. Not that he blamed her, he did lie to her, and she didn’t know him from Adam. What did he expect?
“What were you doing in that room, buster, and if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to scream for help.”
“Okay, okay, quiet down.”  Hell, she meant business. “I was following you.” He tried to sound serious, but he couldn’t. He found the whole situation humorous. “My name is Mike Powell, room 110, but I don’t belong in this home.” He held out his hand toward her.
“Yeah, none of us belong here,” she scoffed. “Why were you following me?” Since she ignored his outstretched hand, Mike lowered it. “I was curious to see where you were going in the middle of the night.”
 “Humph.” Elsa tapped her foot. “So why are you here?”
“I fell and there wasn’t anyone to take care of me. My wife passed away three years ago, and I don’t have any children. So they threw me in here for therapy.”
“I never see you in therapy.”
 “That’s ’cause I don’t need it anymore.”
“Humph. So how come you’re still here?”
 “Nothing to go home to. I have more fun here. They don’t know I can get out of bed.”
 “And just how did you pull that off?”
Elsa seemed surprised to hear he had fooled the nurses into thinking he couldn’t get out of bed. “Simple, I refuse to get out of bed. Of course….” He combed his fingers through his thinning white hair and laughed. “They don’t know about my night time escapades.
“Ah, I know who you are. You’re that difficult man. I hear them talking about. You don’t eat, refuse to take your medicine, or even get out of bed. They call you the ‘Geriatric Rebel’.”
Mike chuckled. He liked the sound of her voice, musical, not raspy or whiny like the other women here. “So why are you here?” he asked. “You don’t seem like the typical resident.”
“Humph, kids are on vacation and don’t want to bother with me. I’m Elsa Logan, by the way.” Elsa turned away. “I better get back. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” She left him standing in the hall.
A quiver of something familiar went through him as she disappeared down the hall and into her room.
                                                                               ***
Mike sighed as Doris’s soft hands slid over his forehead and soothed him. He liked her voice, soft, sweet, almost sing-songy. But no amount of cooing was going to make him get out of this bed. You would think after a month of trying, she’d give up. The others had.
“Come on, Mike, you know it’s not good to lay here like this.”
He squeezed his eyes closed ignoring her, wishing her away. “Just leave me alone!”
 “Okay, Mike, but you’re not doing yourself any good.” Doris left and closed the door.
Guilt gnawed at him the minute the words came out of his mouth. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that, she was one of the few nurses in the home who bothered with him, and he savored the pampering. She’d been coaxing him to get up to socialize for a month. Sure, socialize, like half the residents here would even remember.
Except Elsa.
Elsa with her curly silver hair, quick temper, beautiful smile and bright blue eyes, he closed his eyes, remembering the previous night. Mike smiled at the memory. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
He napped off and on throughout the day to help pass the time. Finally, they dimmed the lights. Now was his chance. He sneaked into the hall, and there she was peeking out of her room. Was she looking for him? He hoped. “Hi, Elsa.” Strange, he felt shy with her. He’d never been shy a day in his life. Not with his wife, not with anyone. Never one to mind getting up in a crowd to speak, this shyness made him uncomfortable. “Want to go for a walk?”
 She gestured for him to lead the way. “Wait, how are we going to get back in?” Elsa stopped and pulled him back at the exit.
“Don’t worry, the door doesn’t lock. Look.” He went out, pulled the door closed and then pushed it open. “”Come on.” He led her out to the parking lot.
“How come the alarm didn’t go off?” “I disabled it and jimmied the lock.”
She stumbled as she hurried to keep up with him. “Do you think you could slow down a little?”
Mike waited for her to catch up.  “Sorry, I forget old people can’t keep up with me.” He took her hand. Something about her brought out his playful side, a side long forgotten.
“Who are you calling old, you blustery old fool?” She pulled her hand away, planted it on her hip, and glared at him.
This was definitely a woman to reckon with “You’re really pretty when you’re mad.”
 “Humph.” She furrowed her brow and stepped away from him. Uh, oh he had pushed her too far, but he couldn’t help teasing her, he felt so alive.
“I’ll show you mad.” Elsa swung her fist, just missing him.
“Hey, I was joking.” He grabbed her hand.  “Truce?” She pulled her hand away but gave him an agreeable nod. They stepped out into the parking lot and to a clump of trees. “This is my special place.” He led her beyond the trees to a small grassy area.  “It’s where I come when I want to get away from them.” He nodded toward the home.
Elsa sat on the grass next to him. “It’s like a million miles away from them isn’t it? It’s been a long time since I’ve been out in the evening. Thank you for bringing me here.”
Mike stroked the back of her hand, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “Why do you steal the water pitchers?” He couldn’t help being curious about the soft-spoken, petite woman with the quick temper, who invoked feelings he hadn’t felt since his wife died
“Just for the fun of it- I get bored. Besides, I can’t sleep at night.” She shrugged, “I took the nurses’ lunches a couple of times,” he said, “but usually I just come out here.”
“That was you?” Elsa giggled. “They talked about it for weeks. Boy, were they mad.”
Mike liked the youthful sound of her laugh He suddenly felt young and mischievous. “Let’s go back and fill their coffeepot with ice.” He squeezed her hand as he helped her up.
Pushing the door open a crack, he looked down the hall. “Okay, coast is clear, come on.” He led Elsa to the break room, looked inside. Empty. He motioned her inside and followed her in. “Stand guard, while I fill the coffee pot.” Mike couldn’t help but laugh as he dumped a couple of containers of ice into the pot. “That should do it.”
They laughed so hard, he was afraid they’d get caught. Elsa shushed Mike as they walked to her room. He hugged her goodnight. Warmth surged through him like a tidal wave when she hugged him back. He hurried back to his room, feeling more alive than he had in years. Maybe I’ll get up tomorrow, he thought. He chuckled, remembering their conversation, ‘Geriatric Rebel’ they have no idea. He sighed before he fell asleep.
                                                            ***

For this and more of my books check out my page at  BWL Publishing

A Little of This and A Little of That

Ah Spring. My favorite time of year. New buds blossom, Trees begin to get their leaves and everything comes alive. The air smells fresher, little plants peek through the ground.
Crocuses often bloom through the snow and Snow Drops soon follow and of

course the lovely Daffodils appear as soon as the ground has thawed.
The crocus is a symbol of youthfulness and cheerfulness. The snowdrop symbolizes hope - hope that winter will soon end and new warmth will enter our lives.  Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.
Something about seeing the new spring flowers creates a happiness. The long winter is finally passing and warmer weather is on the way.
Of course, we can't forget St. Patrick's Day - a day celebrated by many with corned beef and cabbage. parades and of course drinking - sometimes green beer.
St. Patrick's Day first started to honor St. Patrick on the anniversary of his death. Christian people had a great feast for which Lenten food and alcohol restrictions were temporarily removed, which is why drinking became synonymous with the holiday. As year passed, St Patrick's Day became less about the man and more about general Irish traditions, culture, and history. *

Unfortunately, due to the Coronavirus, this year's celebrations/parades were canceled.
When will things return to normal. Every day it seems like something else is closed down. Will everything shut down eventually?
If that's what's going to happen, I wish they'd do it sooner, rather than later. How many more have to get sick or die before that happens? I say get it over with, but who am I? Already restaurants, sports, schools, and churches are closed. Even some department stores. We're told to stay in. Not an easy thing for me. Not that I went too many places anyway, church, bible study, and of course, the store. Even that's been taken away. I'm blessed to have children willing to shop for me. But I do miss it. I enjoyed shopping. Got me out of the house for a while.  Enough about that. More about spring.

Easter is celebrated in the Spring. Sometimes in March, but often in April. A special Holiday (Holy Day) for Christians around the world. The day

 we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. I look forward to spending the day with family, making our Traditional Easter Food. I pray things will be back to normal by then.

May brings Mother's Day, celebrated the second Sunday in May and founded by Anna Jarvis, it's  a celebration honoring the mother of the family, as well as

motherhood, maternal bonds, and the influence of mothers in society.  Designated as the second Sunday in May by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914. **

And finally, Memorial Day, observed the last Monday in May finishes off our Spring Holidays and kicks off the Summer Season. I remember when it was called Decoration Day. It's a  day to remember  and honor the men and women
who died while serving the U.S. military. This year it falls on May 25th, which just happens to be my birthday.  ***

* St. Patrick's Day
** Mother's Day
*** Memorial Day

Review of Trouble Comes in Twos
5 stars - Whodunit and Another Twin
Roseanne Dowell does it again, this time adding mystery to the romance--from the kidnapping of a bride on the eve of her wedding to stumbling across a body under a bush in the local cemetery, Kate Wesley has more than just two love interests distracting her. Not to mention, the victim's identical twin. Ms. Dowell kept me guessing throughout the book both whodunit and who was gonna "do it" with Kate.
5 stars - Romantic Suspense At It's FINEST!

You can find Trouble Comes in Twos as well as my other books at BWL Publishing

Show, Don't Tell Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Session 2 -  Actions Speak Louder than Words

Body language and facial expressions play a large part in our conversation, they are natural reactions to what we speak and hear. Our characters should react the same way. If we forget these important elements, our dialogue will appear flat, boring, and our characters dull. Even setting plays a part in every day conversation. 

 Did you ever avoid someone’s eyes – focus on a picture or a lamp - maybe even lowered your eyes or stared at the ceiling? We tend to focus on things other than the person speaking to us if we are uncomfortable with either the situation or the person.

We wave our hand, cross our arms, tap our foot, or raise our eyebrows to show impatience. Maybe we wrinkle our brow, scrunch up our nose, and let out a deep sigh when we're doubtful. We cross our leg, wiggle our foot, or tap our fingers when we're nervous.  All of these actions show something about our moods, our reactions to conversation and even about us. We react differently when we're nervous, upset, irritated, happy, sad, or doubtful. These actions show what dialogue, alone, cannot. Our characters need to do the same.

Teamed up with dialogue these expressive actions say more about our character, their setting, and their dialogue then the typical he said, she said and their counterparts -replied, asked, responded. These are unnecessary words. Also, other than said, they put the author into the story – something we never want. Said, on the other hand, disappears into the story and most readers don’t notice it. Although, overusing said puts the author in the story, too. Most times we can avoid using it.

 Think of a strong dialogue scene as having three elements:  words, visuals, and thoughts.” Let’s see how it works.

How often have we created dialogue like this?

“I can’t believe you said that,” he said.

“Why not, it’s true,” she replied.

     “But, you didn’t have to say it,” he answered.

“No, I guess I didn’t,” she said.

We tag the dialogue with he said, she said so our readers do not get confused about who is speaking. We vary said with replied, answered, snapped or other like words. The dialogue is boring. We know nothing about the characters. We can change the he/she to Tom and Laura, but it won’t change the dialogue. All we have are words. We can add adverbs to the tag lines to tell us what they’re feeling as in the following example.

“I can’t believe you said that,” he said angrily.

Now we know he is angry, but you, the author, told us that, not the character and we still have he said. Our characters are not showing us anything. And we already learned about the misuse of adverbs in lesson one. We know that doesn’t work. It’s telling, not showing.

 Next step adding visuals. We add visuals by setting a scene - Tom and Laura sat in a restaurant. Sure, we can do that, but then the author’s voice is back in the story. Remember, we want to stay out of the story as much as possible. We want our characters to show us the scene.

Think about a conversation with your spouses or good friends. While they were speaking, you formed your answers in your mind. And you watched their face, noticed their body language at the same time. Maybe their body tensed, their jaw set, their brow furrowed or they frowned. Through their body language you knew they were upset or angry, happy, or sad. Other thoughts flowed through your mind. Maybe you were angry too or thought they were wrong. The interchange included words, body language and your thoughts. Many things happened during that conversation.

Now, let’s add some visuals and body language to our earlier conversation and see how it plays out.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Tom stared at her.

Laura looked at the waiter, avoiding the hurt look on Tom’s face. “Why not, it’s true.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Tom’s jaw tightened. He picked up his cup, took a sip. “But you didn’t have to say it.”

“No, I guess I didn’t.”

Notice how we eliminated the he said, she said completely. Yet, we still know who is speaking. We can see and hear their emotion. Examine what the above exchange shows us, based on the criteria. We had the conversation in the first dialogue session but it showed us nothing but the speakers. In the example above, we added a visual and a scene, the restaurant.

We know this because she stared at a waiter and he picked up the cup.  We've added tension with body language - His jaw tightened. We know she is our POV, because she sees the hurt. We see the scene and hear the words through her. We see her visually ignoring him, yet watching his reaction. We vary the length and pace of the sentences to keep the reader’s attention. Sometimes, as in the case of his last comment, it is more powerful not to add a visual or tag line. If we add visuals or tag lines to all dialogue, it becomes monotonous and boring and can even disrupt our story.

We now have two elements, words and visuals. Let’s add the third, thoughts.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Tom stared at her.

Laura looked at the waiter, avoiding the hurt look on his face. “Why not, it’s true.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He’s angry.

His jaw tightened. He played with his cup. “But you didn’t have to say it.”

“No, I guess I didn’t.” She stood up. She had enough. Glaring at him, she pulled some change from her purse and threw it on the table. It’s always about him. Time to leave before she said something she'd regret.

We have completed the elements. We hear the characters voices and see their emotions. They have showed us the scene and their reaction to the words and we have her thoughts, paraphrased - we don't have to say she thought, we know she's thinking. Our characters have brought the scene to life, and you, the author did not tell us anything.

Next time: The Senses