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
