Category Archives: My blog
A weakness for plants
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Saturday I received one of my favorite spring treats—the flyer from a local farm and greenhouse operation. ‘They offer thousands of healthy bedding plants, annuals, and perennials. Vegetables including over 75 tomato varieties and 68 pepper varieties and large selection of herbs and scented geraniums. They have blueberry and raspberry bushes along with 52 hosta cultivars and 48 different hemerocallis.’ In other words, they are a gardener’s paradise.
G and I will pay a call there after the Pennwriters conference next month. By then, we can safely plant tomatoes, peppers, watermelons, and the many other floras we’ll buy that day. We will load the rear of her hubby’s SUV to overflowing.
Last year I spent more than she did. We’ll see who gets off cheapest this year and I’m betting it won’t be me. I have a weakness for plants, an addiction if you will and not unlike my addiction for books.
I’ve perused their lists and marked what I want. This year the gardens will have, vegetable plants intermixed with flowers. The tomatoes I tried that way last year grew well. I’d sure like a nice variety of vegetables this year.
Posted in hobbies, Misc, My blog, my garden, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Gardening, Gardens, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
When words fail
Posted by doggonedmysteries
I have days where I spend more time deleting what I’ve written than writing. It may be pure, unadulterated crap but it is my crap and I’m allowed to mess with it. At least I’m writing. The best advice I ever got was ‘write every day, no matter how poor the writing is, at the very least, you are exercising that part of your brain.’
Poor writing, sort of what I’m doing here tonight. It has been one of those days. Nevertheless, I am writing—a good thing. Am I writing well? That’s another question.
Tim Esaias says to keep moving forward don’t stop until you hit the end. I wish he were sitting on my shoulder at times if only to slap me in the head when I go back and re-read things. I have a devil of a friend who constantly sends me back over what I’ve written. I re-read chapters I shouldn’t. All of which leads to deleting words, sentences, dialogue, and sometimes scenes.
That’s when words fail. They fail to mesh, they fail to make sense, and they fail to move forward. I need to stop re-reading.
Posted in My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy
Posted by doggonedmysteries
It was bad enough that I had to put a band-aid on the lower half of my left thumb to cover the open blister I got from all that raking. Then there’s the Goliath bullfrog bite on my right index finger. That also required a band-aid because the scratches run the length of my finger. They kept reopening and bleeding every time I bent it. Now, I have another band-aid on my left index finger where I cut that while opening the box in which my new vacuum arrived. I am the klutz queen.
Yes, my new vacuum arrived today. It purrs like a kitten and doesn’t require ear protection. Holy crap does it ever clean! It weighs less than a third of my old vacuum too. It came with a free steam-cleaning mop.
I could possibly go into spring-cleaning mode. My house might go from slovenly to sparkling at this rate. I can picture it featured in House Beautiful. Hah! Whom am I kidding, with two dogs and DH the slob? Surely, I dream. The house doesn’t dust itself or scrub bathrooms. {Sigh.} Knowing me, it will be clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
The boys in blue
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Some idiot drove around and around the block down on the next street. He was honking his horn and yelling like a banshee. It might not have been too bad except it was 2:15 a.m. I figured someone down there was going to be very angry at the ruckus. I only found it to be annoying but then I wasn’t sleeping. I turned on the police scanner. I heard the dispatcher report a man with a gun at that location.
Nothing gets the boys in blue’s adrenalin rushing quite like a man with a gun call. I heard the, “on location” come within a mere two minutes. It was funny how the yelling and the horn honking stopped so abruptly. The sheer temptation to peek out the front door to see down the street was strong. I stole a look although DH would kill me if he knew. There were five cop cars at the end of our street. I ducked back inside, closed and locked the door, and double-checked my back door to make certain the lock was on. Then I sat back to listen to the scanner.
Twenty minutes later, three of the five cop cars drove up my street heading back on patrol. Two others were still busy at the end of the block. I guess a walk past the neighborhood gossip’s house might give me some fodder for another post or a scene in one of my books.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: adrenalin rush, Author, Beads, Bones, Books on writing, boys in blue, Bull Terriers, cops, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
The magnolia tree is lovely but…
Posted by doggonedmysteries
If you don’t want a lot of work, don’t put one in your yard. I spent a few hours today raking up flower petals from the tree and it’s not finished yet. I filled the wheelbarrow so many times I lost count. There are still tons of blossoms on the tree…yikes. I spent another half hour skimming petals off the pond. Is all the work worth it? Yes, I think it is. Deadheading all the daffodils gave me another wheelbarrow load.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that my knee suffered no ill effects from contact with Gavin’s hard head. It’s my guess that all the icing I did to it yesterday made the difference. I truly expected to wake up with it swollen to football size and then having to make a run to our doctor’s ER.
If I wake to another sunny day I’ll cut down the dried out zebra grass. Then I bet I’ll rake more petals up from under the magnolia. I wonder how many times I’ll empty the wheelbarrow into the compost bin this time.
The tulips are blooming. The splashes of bright red and yellow around the pond and the tulip poplar are lovely.
Can two objects occupy the same space?
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Today Gavin proved that the answer to that question is no. How did he prove it? Well, that’s the story for tonight.
I had Gavin out in the yard. He was behaving, sniffing around looking for a place to mark, when the kids across the street began doing a mad dash up and down the sidewalk. Gavin got excited and began to bark at them. Me, being the idiot I am, decided it was time to leash him and take him inside before he became too wound up.
He was standing still at the front fence barking at the kids. I reached for his collar to snap on the leash so I could drag him away from the fence. At that moment he decided to dart to his left. Where was I standing? I was at his left.
Now if you’ve never met a Bull Terrier in person you have no concept of what their heads are like. Think cinder block and you’ll have a decent idea.
Think fast, if I was at his left, and he dashed to his left, can two objects occupy the same space at the same time? The previously mentioned objects being Gavin’s cinder block head and my freaking knee, I say NAY. I also said ouch, and many other words in a sailor’s vernacular that tinged the air around me a lovely, bright shade of blue.
Yeah, go ahead and call me a klutz. You can even call Gavin an idiot for not looking where he was going. Now, if you all will excuse me, I need to pack my knee in ice again.
Posted in Dog related, Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, can two objects occupy the same space?, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Crafts, Dead, Disability, Dog humor, Doggoned, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, relative theories and all that stuff, Rescue Dogs, Writer, Writing
How to bathe the dog
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Gorgeous weather today made the pups miserable. Actually it wasn’t the day itself it was what I did to them. Smelly Gavin and stinky Patty got baths. I am on their LIST. After they had their baths and were dry, their majesties did their utmost best to let me know that I’d gone to the top of their LIST. I rose higher on the LIST than squirrels, annoying kids, strange dogs who pee on their fence, and a late dinner.
I did not apologize to them. They reeked and were in dire need of baths. You’d think they’d want to be nice and clean sweet-smelling dogs. Nope, they’d rather smell horrible. It’s a dog thing.
How to bathe Patty: A) Keep her from hiding in either crate by closing the doors. B) Drag her upstairs to the bathroom. C) Lift her 65 lb limp, dead weight into the tub. D) Begin the torture of bathing. E) Spread a towel on the floor, drop a cookie, and back up. F) Dry her. G) Release her from the bathroom to have her karoom down the steps and around the downstairs. H) Crate her with a cookie reward until she’s dry.
How to bathe Gavin: A) Show him a cookie. B) Tell him “Let’s go bed bouncing.” C) Follow him upstairs. D) Throw the cookie into the tub and watch him hop into it. E) Close shower doors so he doesn’t jump back out. F) Begin his torture—you mean get me wet all over? G) Hose him down, get soaked when he shakes. H) Soap him, get soaked when shakes. I) Rinse him, get soaked when he shakes. J) Step back, get soaked when he shakes. K) Dry him, get soaked when shakes. L) Release him from the bathroom. M) Crate him with a cookie. N) Go dry all the walls and the floor of the bathroom. O) Change into dry clothes.
Posted in Dog related, My blog, Weather related, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Dog humor, Doggoned, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Pet humor, Pets, Rescue Dogs, Writer, Writing
MIL is home again
Posted by doggonedmysteries
DH reported that he left a very happy mother in her home today. Her dog went berserk when he saw her come in the door. Happy, happy, joy, joy! Little old Lance was about doing doggie cartwheels he was so ecstatic that his Mom was home. MIL was thrilled to have her digs back.
I sent over some homemade frozen meals for her. All she needs to do is pop them in the microwave. Her freezer is loaded, and her fridge is resupplied with all fresh stuff. Her prescriptions are filled. She’s set for a while.
Now we hope we can get back into a normal routine again. She will have a visiting nurse come in occasionally and someone from some agency is stopping in tomorrow to see how she’s settling at home. DH will go over in the mornings and evenings to check on her.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Homeward bound with a slight hitch
Posted by doggonedmysteries
DH claims he’s sane and has the paperwork to prove it. I think that paperwork might need redoing. The hospital is driving him crazy. He’s trying to get his mother released before her benefits run out. They want to add another elderly person to their profit margin.
It is my belief that no hospital, rehab facility, or nursing home should be run for profit. When it comes down to a company’s profit margin, which is what always comes first. Not the patient, not the patient’s family, to heck with the Hippocratic Oath, do no harm, they want money.
The psychiatrist who ‘talked’ to my mother in law today pushed her panic button. He mentioned selling her house.
This poor woman has a not very nice neighbor who has been trying to get her to sell him her house for the last five years. His methods have been heavy handed and, for her, scary. He’s backed off since DH, his best friend, and I had a few conversations with him. We used the words attorney, police, and terroristic threats during our conversations with him. I was not nearly as nice as the men were when I spoke to him. I’ve dealt with too many bullies over the years.
So naturally, when this doctor mentioned selling, her first thought was that the doctor now wanted her house. This put her in panic mode. Do you blame her? It took DH several conversations with the ‘powers that be’ to explain her reaction.
So far, she’s still going home on Saturday.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Elder Care, Family, Fiction, Healthcare, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Is she crazy?
Posted by doggonedmysteries
My mother in law is 83. She lives with her Border terrier in a nice home. This woman pays all her bills and even pays her cable and fuel oil ahead for the year. When she needs something done around the house that DH or I can’t do she hires someone to do it. She takes care of her dog.
Now, because she fell, banged her head, and had the good sense to call 911 she’s in a rehab hospital. They have dosed her daily with laxatives and now claim she can’t hold her bowels. (Could you if someone gave you Colace every day?) She fell because she had an infection, which is now under control.
She wants to go home. She’s told them numerous times that she wants to go home. Personally, I think she’d be better off in an assisted living place but that’s not my call.
She’s not highly educated; she quit school in the eighth grade. Nor is she the brightest light in the harbor, but she does do well in her own home. Over the years, I have come to realize that she’s mildly agoraphobic. Being in a hospital situation frightens her. She’s easily intimidated.
Today they told DH she could go home on Saturday. A few hours later, they decided that they should have a psychologist check her to see if she’s competent. My problem with this is that most questions they will ask her are not relevant to her.
She doesn’t read books and she stopped her paper when the delivery guy started leaving her paper where she couldn’t get to it even after numerous complaints. She knows what year it is; she’s a bit fuzzy on the day, but heck, so am I most of the time. When you don’t work at a job outside the home, the ‘day’ isn’t that important. She watches the six o’clock news and her soap operas and is content.
She wants to go home where she’s comfortable. She wants to be with her dog. She wants to sleep in her own bed. Is she crazy?
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, Craft of writing, crazy, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Elder Care, Family, Fiction, Healthcare, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Two dogs on a rainy day
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Gavin rings the sleigh bells on the back porch door. “Wanna go out, NOW.”
“Hold on let me get a jacket.” I snag one off the hooks by the door. The bells are still ringing. “I’m right here. Stop with the bells already.”
We get outside and it’s raining.
Gavin runs for the door. “Wanna go in, NOW.”
We go in. Gavin doesn’t tell Patty it is raining. Patty wants out. I take her.
A raindrop hits her on the head she tucks her tail and reverses gears. “In. I wanna go in. Oh, please let’s go in.”
We go in.
Both dogs dance around in front of the cupboard. “Cookies! Don’t forget the cookies!” Gavin yells.
Patty sits and throws her front paws high in the air. “Stick ‘em up, I’m doing stick ‘em up! Give me a cookie.”
I give them their cookies, settle down in front of the computer and begin writing.
Five minutes later Gavin is ringing the bells to go out. “I’m bored. Wanna go out, NOW.”
Patty runs to join him. “If he’s going, I am too.”
“It’s still raining.” I tell them as I grab my jacket. Reread.
Posted in Dog related, My blog, Weather related, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Dog humor, Doggoned, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Pet humor, Pets, Rescue Dogs, Writer, Writing
Unpredictable March nights
Posted by doggonedmysteries
My poor magnolia tree had some frost damage to its almost open buds. I think some over the pond got hit the worst. We might have some bloomage but nothing near what it would’ve been had the temperature stayed above freezing. The last two years the tree escaped the frost so I guess it was about due to happen again.
DH was surprised that it was cold enough to need a jacket when he went over to the hospital to see his mother in the morning. I told him to be ready for a repeat of it today since as I write this at 2 a.m. the temperature has already dropped to 33 degrees.
However, by Thursday it is supposed to be in the seventies again. I’m glad because I do have some new flowers that need planting. I also need to bring my black elephant ears up from the basement to get them acclimated and ready to plant too. They will stay on the back porch until mid April.
I just took the pups for their last out of the night and it is chilly. I needed my jacket.
Posted in Misc, My blog, my garden, Weather related, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Gardening, Gardens, Home, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Doggonedmysteries 