Nail trimmin…oh no, he’s off!
“Get back here!” I make a grab for the fat, white butt as it leaps from the couch. The white dog rounds the coffee table and dashes past me with a you-can’t-catch-me grin on his face.
“Oh, no you don’t.”
A stifled giggle comes from the direction of The Curmudgeon’s chair.
“You’re not helping. I no sooner picked up the Dremel and he was rocketing off into new realms.”
Gavin dances to just within grasp and bolts out of the room. Again.
The brown dog is hiding in her crate. She thinks she’s next.
“Patty, your nails are fine. You are safe.” I walk to the kitchen.
Gavin jigs past me. He’s enjoying the game.
“Ignoring you, naughty boy.” I go back to the couch and pick up my Kindle. I’ll try again tomorrow.
What were you watching when…
Watching Retro TV last night, Cold Squad. I realized that we’d missed a good series, and now I wonder what we were watching here instead. The show aired from 1998 to 2005 in Canada. The American counterpart, Cold Case Files, began airing in 2003 to 2010.
Makes me wonder how many truly ‘original’ TV series the US writers have come up with over the years and how many they ‘borrowed’ from Great Britain and Canada.
It’s sad to me that so many of our shows were not originals.
Experiment # 5
First Sentence stick pick:
My mother was doing that thing she did. That thing with the rag in the sink.
She was OCD about the drain and would wipe it down six times after every use of the kitchen sink. Not three times, nor five times, always six times. She used the same rag each time too. The rag was nasty and full of holes but she wouldn’t replace it with another one.
“Put the rag down, it’s time to go.”
Drew a Non Sequitur stick:
The plane was two hours late.
No wonder she was more off her rocker today than usual. She hated flying. Waiting made it worse.
Chose a last straw stick:
The last time they saw a movie.
It was the same darned movie they were showing in flight. She didn’t like it back then and had made loud, snide remarks during it. Maybe finding her book in the carry-on would be better.
Been a sad week
I was going to post another experiment in writing, but four friends have lost their bullies, and a couple of others have seriously ill pups. I don’t have it in me to play today. Instead, I am lighting a candle for all of them.
All I want to do is hug my two and hold back time. It scares me that Gavin is now twelve and Patty is nine. The oldest one I’ve had, made it to just shy of fourteen years. I still cry over him today. It always hurts so much to lose one of our fur babies.
Salted and battery?
This is the second time my van wouldn’t start in the bitter cold. I think I need a better battery. Heck, I don’t start well in this cold. I need several cups …er pots of coffee to get me going.
At least the driveway and sidewalk are clear and salted. Thank you Arlene. When I get up in the daylight, I’ll try to clear off the van and see about starting it again.
That’s enough winter thank you very much.
You all have a good one and keep warm!
Snow break…
More freaking snow, a lot of it. Momma is not happy and when…well, you know how that goes.
Neither pup is pleased with this weather. Cold, snowy, windy, yeah they are not happy about it. I never saw two dogs go out, pee, and come back inside faster than what they’ve been doing. 🙂
I cannot stress enough how blessed we are with the woman who clears our walk and driveway. I know I am not able to do all that shoveling these days.
It used to be that we shoveled all our neighbor’s walks. The Curmudgeon would run the snow blower clear down the street on both sides while I shoveled porches and steps.
Experiment #4 timed
First Sentence stick pick:
My only defense was to write down every word they said.
If I didn’t I’d never remember all the crazy crap that fell from their mouths. No one would ever believe me, but I’d found the best place in the world for crazy dialogue. I sat there sipping cup after cup of coffee scribbling down line after line of the funniest conversations I’d ever heard.
Drew a Non Sequitur stick:
“If you don’t take chances,” said the man in the striped pajamas, “you might as well not be alive.”
I put that statement in my truths column and waited to hear how his companion would reply. Then I realized he was talking to me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to look at zebra pajamas man. So I stared into my cup. I knew if I looked at him I’d start to giggle and I knew if I started to giggle I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Chose a last straw stick:
His companion walked out the door leaving him waving the bill she forgot to pay at her retreating form. He grumbled and growled a bit over her leaving him to pay her check.
Experiment #3 timed
For those of you interested in The Writer’s Toolbox, you can find it at the link below.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0811854299/ref=oh_details_o02_s00_i02?ie=UTF8&psc=1
Using the timer tonight.
First Sentence stick pick:
I had this system for getting exactly what I wanted out of people. That is what made me salesman of the year every year. It worked at selling cars and any sales job I’d ever had. The problem was, I hated selling cars. I was bored, bored, bored out of my mind. I began to imagine different ways to commit murder whenever I had to deal with an irate customer. I even joked about it once with a friend of mine.
Drew a Non Sequitur stick:
He told me, “You could make a living doing that kind of thing.”
I suppose I could, but I had never thought about it, until then.
Normally I am a patient and gentle soul. However, on the day that jerk, my ex husband, David Hennessy came into our showroom and announced that he’d bought the dealership, all bets were off. I knew exactly what he was up to and felt the target on my back.
Chose a last straw stick:
I cut the brake lines on the Honda when I left work that night. Hearing about his fatal accident on the news in the morning had me grinning while I sipped my morning coffee.
End of Experiment #3
Adventures in writing… experiment #2
First Sentence stick pick:
After only two months, Helen decided to become an exotic dancer.
College life didn’t suit her. She loved seedy bars and raunchy men. Yes, there was something wrong, deeply wrong inside her.
Her first kill made her feel whole. Finding another victim never became a problem in her profession. With her tits and ass she could crook a finger and they’d come running to the slaughter.
As she tied his hands to the headboard she told him about her other victims and what she would do to him. His heart leapt about in his chest like a heifer on a rope.
“I actually went to the cops more than once. They just stared at my tits.”
Drew a Non Sequitur stick.
“There you go making up lies again.”
“That’s what they told me the last time.”
It’s fun to walk in there, tell them what I did, and have them not care or believe me.
Ends second experiment.
Writing experiment #1
Two new books and The Writer’s Toolbox, time to see if I can jump start my writing. Using The Writer’s Toolbox today.
I drew one of the The First Sentence Sticks.
I was dressed in a completely inappropriate shade of pink.
I didn’t give an effing damn and I thought the stiletto heels and neon green, marabou feather boa were a good touch too.
My family didn’t want me at my Mother’s funeral, so I figured I’d shake them up. I had no fear and no regrets after what they did to me. They’d cut me off from her for years.
Who doesn’t tell a family member about their mother’s death and funeral until the night before when said person lives a thousand miles away? Thank the heavens my lover owned his own jet and they didn’t know about him. No one keeps Jimmy Flynn from his mother. I sucked in a chest popping breath and stepped out of the stretched limo.
End of first experiment.
Every day is new throw of the dice.
Over the next several weeks I will be experimenting with my writing in hopes to hit a new groove and get my books finished. So be prepared for some nonsense and, I hope, fun.
I have been in such a horrible brain freeze for almost a year now, and that frightens me. I don’t know if it’s my medications or just the stress of daily life here at Casa Doggonedmysteries.
Stress like today. I hear The Curmudgeon’s voice come over the phone which wakes me with a jolt. Then, with heart pounding and adrenalin taking a quick jog though my system, I dashed to downstairs to find him on the kitchen floor. I couldn’t get him up.
Once I made him comfortable, I dashed back upstairs to get dressed, and then ran over to get the neighbor to help. He got The Curmudgeon up and to his chair. We haven’t had a day like this since he started the new medication. I hope this is an aberration.
Later, he was able to go upstairs and climb into bed for a long rest. After midnight, he came back downstairs and seemed much improved. Let’s hope the improvement continues.
You all have a good one.
Doggonedmysteries 