Blog Archives
I am not a mused
Posted by doggonedmysteries
It never fails to amaze me when a flash of insight smacks me in the head.
“That’s me, Honey.” My muse buffs her nails and admires them.
“Geez, I wish you’d stop popping in like that. Can’t you arrive without startling me?”
“What do you want, fireworks and a fanfare or something?”
“Wait, I’m talking to them. We’ll discuss your arrival and where you’ve been lurking later.”
“Lurking? Me? I never lurk.” She pastes an innocent look on her face.
“Hold on a minute folks. Yes, you do too lurk. You sulk, you hide, you pout, you primp, and you leave me sitting here staring at a blank page.”
“Do not.” She sticks out her tongue.
“Do too.”
“How often do I call you and you don’t answer?”
“Well, I hear you but I can’t come running willy-nilly all the time.”
“Half the time would be nice.”
“Besides, you have the weirdest hours.”
“Tough, those are the times I can actually sit down and do some writing. You knew that when you signed on. Anyway, back to the readers. As I said before it amazes me when inspiration hits.”
“Me!”
“Shut up!”
“I’ll stumble along tearing out my hair over one paragraph and another when suddenly the words flow and I can barely type fast enough to keep up. Amazing.”
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Muse, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Death by Cuddles
Posted by doggonedmysteries
“Henry went to the garden to chop down that old grape vine. That was two hours ago.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Detective Hayes wrote in his notepad. “Then what happened?”
“I heard a commotion. I came outside. Cuddles had that bloody board in his mouth. He was knocking over the potted plants.”
“You mean that two-by-four the Bull Terrier is playing with? You say it has blood on it?”
“Yes. I couldn’t get Cuddles to drop it. He ran by and cracked me in the shins. I went down hard. He ran past again and hit my head.” Victoria showed him the purple bruises on her shins and the knot on her forehead.
“That must’ve been quite a shot.”
“Oh, it was.”
“Tell me about Henry.”
“I was getting to that. Once I could walk, I went to look for him. I’m sure he killed Henry.”
“The dog?”
“Yes, Cuddles killed Henry.”
“Where was the dog?”
“I found him with Henry. He was licking Henry’s face. I ran back to the house to call for the ambulance. When they got here they said Henry was dead and called you.”
“I’m placing you under arrest.”
“But Cuddles did it.”
“Sure, lady”
Posted in Dog related, My blog, Short Stories, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Breeds, Bull Terrier, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Dog, Dog humor, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Pets, Rescue Dogs, Rescues and Shelters, Short stories, Terrier Group, Writer, Writing
Gavin doesn’t fit under a potted palm but you try to tell him that…
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Yesterday Gavin entertained me by trying to hide under the potted palm in the waiting room. The receptionists and I were in the giggles. He crawled under a chair in the exam room, closed his eyes, and ducked his head in the old ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ routine. Didn’t work, the vet tech cracked up and took his temperature anyway.
When Dr O came in, Gavin tried to ooze under the door. That didn’t work either. Dr. O laughed at him and did a complete examination. He even snuck in a quick peek down Gavin’s mouth as far as Gavin would open it.
Gavin didn’t get his shots. No, he managed to come down with a case of the squirts. All night long and for most of the day before his scheduled 2:30 appointment, I took him out every two hours…or less. He came home with two bottles of medications and he is back on the old hamburger and rice diet.
I didn’t want to take both dogs in together. I tried that last time and Chicken Dog had Patty all apprehensive. She usually enjoys her vet visits. That’s why I made two separate appointments. However, now Gavin is tagging along to Patty’s appointment on the second to get his shots. DH can come along and enjoy Chicken Dog’s entertaining antics and then he can take him to the car while Patty gets her check up.
This should be interesting…
Posted in Dog related, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, 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
We live in a funhouse
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Old houses have oddities like crooked walls and strangely sized doors. I’ve been sort of shopping around for four interior doors. Of course, all four are different widths and they are all taller by more than an inch or two than any I can find. We’re so blessed to have an old house…. Sometimes it’s like living in a carnival funhouse.
Most of our doorways are out of square, which makes for more interesting problems. Floors tilt and bow. The stairs are all narrow and steep. The attic stairs do a lovely eighty degree turn, twice.
The cellar steps are another test of balance and agility. Although they don’t have turns they aren’t level and the bottom step is only an inch high, just enough to sprain an ankle if you hit it right. Or rather, if I hit it right I’ll sprain an ankle, which I’ve done many times over the years.
The entire house, except the attic and back porch, is heated by radiators. This makes the placement of furniture a challenge. There are two radiators in the living room under the master bedroom and one in the master bedroom. The room is very hot in the winter. I have to sleep with the window opened even when it’s below freezing outside or I’ll die of heat stroke.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bedroom, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Funhouse, Home, Home and Garden, Humor, Life, Living room, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Stairway, Writer, Writing
Dryers, the inter-dimensional sock gateway?
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Sorting socks on laundry day is a dull, life-sucking task. I hate sorting socks and would love it if they did it all by themselves. However, there are some days where you feel as though you’ve stepped into the ‘inter-dimensional sock gateway zone’ when you find strange socks and miss some you swore you’d put in the wash.
Does anyone else have a dryer that is an inter-dimensional sock gateway? A few E-mails back and forth with Elena made me realize that I am not the only person who has one of these. She told me that she had a pair of socks come out of her dryer that she didn’t recognize. I often have that problem, as well as having socks periodically disappear into the IDSG void. Most of them are DH’s since during the warm weather I seldom wear socks.
Some people ask why it is that only socks do this. The easy answer is because a dryer is an inter-dimensional sock gateway not an inter-dimensional clothes gateway. Has anyone seen a super soft sage green sock? I can’t find one of mine. Check your dryer it might have beamed over there.
Once beamed into the IDSG do the socks turn into evil sock puppets that return here bent on taking over the earth?
Beware of strange sock puppets.
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, Footwear, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Socks and Hosiery, Writer, Writing
Never cross your muse
Posted by doggonedmysteries
My muse avoids making eye contact. I dust off my keyboard, clean the monitor, and straighten my desk. Then I take some time to dust the living room and vacuum the rugs.
“You ready to help me yet?” I ask as I sit in front of the computer again.
Silence.
“Did I do something to upset you?”
No answer.
“This is about the ad I put in The Mystical Weekly isn’t it?”
“You were looking for applicants for a muse!” She began to sob and scrub her face with a lace handkerchief.
“Yeah, and a unicorn, a troll, and an elf applied. I turned them all down flat. I don’t write fantasy I write mysteries.”
“But, but why the ad? Are you firing me?” A huge tear dripped off her nose. Not attractive.
“I thought about it. You haven’t been around much lately.”
“I have too but you weren’t listening to me. You were too busy.”
“Okay, I admit it. I have been run ragged lately but when I sit down to write you aren’t here. Maybe we need to synchronize our watches.”
“I don’t own a watch. I’m a freaking muse.”
“I was being rhetorical. Would it help if I apologize?”
“It’s a start.”
“I’m sorry.”
Posted in My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Arts, Author, 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, Muse, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Tree rat relocation plan a success!
Posted by doggonedmysteries
DH relocated the tree rat today. It was not a happy camper when he found it in the have-a-heart trap. I think it’ll be happier where it is. I know I will be. We left the trap set up just in case there are more tree rats eyeing my tomatoes.
He took the squirrel over to the large wooded area near his mother’s house and set it free. He said it shot out of the cage and up the nearest tree. There, at a safe distance, it scolded him. I’m sure it had a few choice words for him after riding in the back of the pick up. I don’t like riding in the pick up.
I told DH he’d better hope it’s only squirrels that he catches. We have had skunks and opossums around here. We caught a skunk in the trap once. DH crept up to the cage and put a black trash bag over it. Then he ever so gently lifted the cage and carried it to his truck. When he got to the skunk’s destination, he lifted the cage and carried it across a field, set it down, somehow he managed to open it and remove the bag before running to his truck. Once the skunk cleared the area, he retrieved the cage. Lucky man didn’t come home stinking like a skunk…
Posted in my garden
Tags: Animal, Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Gardening, Gardens, Home, Humor, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Opossum, Rat, Skunk, Squirrel, Tree, Writer, Writing
Miss Patty hides
Posted by doggonedmysteries
We crate the pups when we aren’t here to supervise during the day. They enjoy getting into things too much to leave them to their own devices. Today I thought Mr. Houdini dog taught baby sister Patty how to open her crate door. It wasn’t so. It seems that DH hadn’t latched her door properly.
DH had gone upstairs for a nap while I was outside working in the gardens. He’d crated the dogs. When I came in Gavin was snoozing in his crate but Patty was nowhere to be found. Then I heard her thunder down the stairs. She zoomed around the corner at the bottom of the steps and about jumped out of her skin to see me standing there.
She dove into her crate and hid in the back. Her guilt was so palpable I thought I’d better go see what she’d been doing upstairs. She hadn’t touched anything in the bathroom. DH had his room’s door closed. The laundry basket waiting to have clothes unloaded had the back room door blocked. That left the bedroom.
Oh yeah, she’d been in there. She had used the bed for a trampoline. Pillows were scattered, some on the floor, and the bedspread was askew.
Posted in Dog related, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Dog, Dog humor, Doggoned, Dogs, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Pet humor, Pets, Recreation, Rescue Dogs, Stairway, Writer, Writing
Hey, Squirrel there’s a contract out on youse
Posted by doggonedmysteries
If you can climb trees and aren’t squeamish about taking out a few squirrels, have I got a job for you. The squirrel pulled a daylight raid on the tomatoes and dared, DARED to nibble on some of my heirloom tomatoes. It didn’t pull them from the vine. No, it chewed a bit here on one and a bit there on another.
I picked all the ripe and almost ripe tomatoes I could find. Later, the danged tree rat left a half eaten half green tomato right where it knew I’d walk just to show me it could get at them any time. I think it’s teaching its children to go after my tomatoes too.
I guess I need to take out a contract on the tree rat and family.
“Hello, is Mr. R. T. Hawk?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I need to hire you. I’m having this problem with a squirrel.”
“It’s just the one?”
“Well, not exactly. I think there’s a nest of them.”
“Hmmm, young tree rats are quite tasty…um…er…I mean, I’ll do the job for you on the cheap.”
“Thank you. I hope you can do it before all my tomatoes are gone.”
“No problem.”
Posted in Food, my garden, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Food, Gardening, Gardens, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
At war with tree rats
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Yesterday, my day began as all my days do with coffee, lots of coffee. My third cup I took outside to enjoy the cooler weather we’re having. That’s when I spotted one of my almost ripe Big Boy tomatoes on the ground. Someone had nibbled a good quarter of it and left it there for me to find. I was not happy. The tomato went into the compost bin.
There was no sign of the culprit who had raided my garden. However, I swear I heard giggling coming from the trees. Later, I went out to feed the fish and as I walked under the magnolia tree, a large, mostly green tomato almost beaned me in the head. It too had been nibbled. I looked up to see a squirrel sitting on an upper branch. His face covered with tomato juice from MY TOMATO.
Thus, the war with the tree rats has begun. I took the tomato from the compost bin and the one that had nearly whapped me in the head and baited a Have-a-Hart trap. All tree rats who enter the trap will find themselves relocated to the other side of town. My mother in law doesn’t have a garden.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Gardening, Gardens, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Blind as a bat or forget the scratch coat please
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Since the first heat wave hit us this year, I’ve had trouble seeing. Sounds weird doesn’t it? There’s an easy explanation. When I bought my glasses, I had them put the scratch coat on them. Everyone knows how easy it is to scratch your glasses. Right? It was a big mistake. I’d rather have scratches.
You see I take after my father. I sweat. I sweat profusely. When I sweat, my glasses steam up. It seems that when they did that at least once the scratch coat warped and loosened. Then sweat got under it and left a line of discoloration right across the bifocal lens and up the inside quarter of the entire lens. It wasn’t a thin line either and got worse as time went on. I switched to my other pair of glasses.
We had another heat wave. Those glasses also had the scratch coating on them. The results were the same but not as bad as the other pair. However, it is bad enough that I have to struggle to read. EEKS! I love to read. I have to read to write. I’m going crazy with not being able to read.
My eye appointment is Saturday.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
The answers are in the wind
Posted by doggonedmysteries
It was on the tip of my tongue and then whoosh it was gone. It happens to me all the time. It’s not age related because I’ve always been that way. Sometimes it names—well, most of the time it is, other times it is movie titles, book titles, authors, song titles, you name it and I’ve probably stumbled over it.
Get me in a game of Trivia and I will lose. I know the answers but my brain seizes up and misplaces them. I sit there dumb as a post.
DH sometimes will ask me who movie stars are in a movie we’re watching and even though I know their names for the life of me, I can’t tell him. That is until hours later when the names flash into my brain. Of course, he’s probably in bed by then and the answer is useless.
I’ve been told it’s because my brain is so busy with other things that trivia tends to waft off to the ether. I like that explanation it’s much better than thinking my brainpan is fried.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
Doggonedmysteries 