Thursday, March 31, 2011

Zander and Jovie

          The end of all things always starts at the beginning, for without a beginning there can be no end...
         Zander stood by the huge curved window of the observation deck.  The stars crowded the view like lights of a city in the darkness.  It had been two years since their voyage had begun on the surface of Lonii, the third planet of Sadira (Epsilon Eridani).  It was to be the beginning of a new life for many on board, as the overpopulation laws on both Lonii and its moon Moncantor had left many to suffer the outcome of non-reproduction status.  People left to grow old and childless, no one to care for them in old age and a system all too willing to allow the extinction of family lines, if you were not among the elite. 
The Edel was one of five ships built to find and colonize any planet that could sustain Lonian life.  Zander studied his whole twenty-eight years for nothing more than a chance to leave Lonii and have a family of his own.  He made sure to study anything that could guaranty his acceptance as a colonist, Xenobotany, Plasma ion drive engineering and weaving, were a few of his specialties.  Today would bring all these things to circle, he and Jovie would be paired and their sterilization reversed.  It was something he had been looking forward to since the day he met Jovie in Xenobotany class five years ago.  They would be among the first allowed to have children onboard the ship.  The journey would take more than a life time to complete, so it would be necessary to procreate and teach the next generation.
The door to the observation deck opened, Jovie stood there smiling at Zander deep in thought and he turned around grinning back at her.  “The Captain is ready to sign our paperwork.”  She sighed, for although it was the beginning for them it would also start the clock to the end.  They would be given two years to have children together and after that they must both move on to others. It was the only way to broaden the genetic pool.

C.G. Powell

Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series

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Monday, March 28, 2011

The Words of an Immortal – Chapter 1

The Words of an Immortal – Chapter 1

            Jael walked across the top of the stone palisade of her family home, like she had done a thousand times.  It was her special place to go when she needed to think.  Her mind was still reeling from the conversation she had just had with her father and although she did not wish to remain a maiden her whole life, the man her father had chosen was a far cry from what she wished for in a husband.   Sarik was the only son of King Varen of Hybrazil, a large island right off the coast of her father’s land.  His wife had recently passed delivering yet another stillborn son, one of many over the last twenty years and he was in need of someone who could birth his much needed heir.  The thought of being married off to a man more than thirty years her senior, for the sole purpose of breeding, made her stomach lurch.  Why had her father chosen her for this task? She had older unmarried sisters and had always believed she was his favorite.  Jael felt betrayed by the man who kept her by his side and treated her like a much wanted son.  It was unfortunate that he only had daughters and would one day have to leave his kingdom to one of them.  Whichever one he left his land to would certainly have a fight on their hands, for he had the best track of land in all Eir and his enemies would not allow such a ripe plumb to lie in the hands of a mere woman for long.  One by one he married his daughters off hoping that one of them would give him a strong ally in his son-in-law and a grandson to rule.  But as fate would have it, he receiver neither.  His son-in-laws were not what he had wished for; they were worthless leeches and could not be trusted to rule in his place.  They spent much of their time squabbling over who would someday be king and spending the treasury’s money to promote their status.  As for his married daughters, none had given him so much as a grandchild more or less a grandson. 
            She began to play back his words in her mind. “Jael, I know this is not what I had planned for you, but things have changed.  Prince Sarik is in need of a wife and has asked for the hand of one of my daughters.  I know you have never met him Jael and despite your age difference I believe he would make a good husband and strong ally.”
            “So, I am to be married off to an old man for the sake of your kingdom?”  Jael had never known her father to waver from his belief that his daughters should marry for love.
            He paced the floor in front of his throne, “I make this decision with a heavy heart Jael.  I can no longer count on your sisters to give me a grandson, nor can I trust any of their husbands.  I need Sarik to help rule when I am gone and can think of no better daughter than you to rule with him.”
            Tears were falling down her face, “But he is so old!”  Jael cried hoping he would change his mind at the sight of her tears.
            His majesty sat down in his golden high-backed chair and put his finger tips together under his chin. “I have arranged for you to leave for Hybrazil at weeks end, you will stay there a full lunar cycle, if  you still feel you are unable to wed him by the end of the cycle, you may come home and I will offer him one of your sisters.”
            She stifled her tears as his word sunk in.  She would be given a chance to turn the marriage down if she choose.  “If that is your wish, your majesty, I will do my best to honor it.”  Jael curtsied and left the room.
            A week had passed and the Lady Jael was on a large ship on her way to Hybrazil to meet her future husband.  The week had left her nervous about the whole meeting and her sisters were no help as they teased and taunted her about falling out of favor with their father.  Why else would he send his favorite to marry an old man?  After several hours the ship lay anchor in the harbor of Atlantis, the capital city of Hybrazil. 
            The city was beautiful and unlike any Jael had ever seen. It was made of concentric rings that surrounded the harbor, plants, flowers and trees covered every inch, including many of the houses.  In the center of the rings sit a castle of metal and glass, it was beautiful beyond belief. 
            A delegation from King Varen was waiting for us at the dock.  Most of them were older men, advisers of the King, but one stood out among them for he could have been no older than nine and twenty years.  He was tall with raven hair and eyes bluer than the sea.  He was the most handsome creature Jael had ever set her eyes on.  He noticed her stare and smiled at her.  Jael lowered her eyes and blushed, it was unladylike to look at a man that way, especially while on your way to meet your future husband… but, Zeus be damned this man had gotten to her already. He walked over to where she stood, kneeled down and kissed her hand.
            “Welcome to Hybrazil Lady Jael, I hope you will decide stay with us.”  His eyes looked into hers and Jael became lost in them. 
Her heart raced as a shiver went down her spine; Jael had to remember her place, she would be future queen and this type of behavior was not acceptable.  She pulled her hand away reluctantly and addressed the man in front of her.
“Where I come from it is treason to be so bold to a lady betrothed, especially betrothed to ones prince.” She retorted almost ashamed for his behavior and yet she could not forget the feeling his touch had left.  Everyone looked at Jael, shocked by her words of admonishment.
“Then I should introduce myself,” standing up inches from her face.  “I am Prince Sarik, sorry to have startled you my lady,” nodding his head in a slight bow.
How could he possibly be the prince? Jaels father had known Prince Sarik his whole life and even then Sarik was considered the elder of the two.  “My apologies your highness, I assumed you would appear longer in years…Forgive me.”  She stepped back and curtsied lowly.
He clutched her hands pulling Jael to her feet. “There are few who know of our secrets here and your father is one of them.  I believe we have much to talk about Lady Jael.”  Sarik offered Jael his arm, walking her to the carriage awaiting them.
C.G. Powell

Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series

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Sunday, March 27, 2011

Random Thoughts

          I am so unfocused today.  I want to write, but there are too many distractions.  Maybe I should spend the day looking at the newly fallen spring snow or watching TV.  I know it's not just me bored at the moment, the kids already taped a pair of underwear filled with baby powder above the door, so when their dad opened the door he got covered in powder.  My mother-in-law just called and my husband told her he would call her back in 10 min….He wanted to finish his game of Starcraft first.  I think he deserved to get powder all over him.
          I think I’ll just feed the Sea Monkeys…….Unicorn!

I got side tracked again, sorry about that. Speaking of husband, thanks to the social network he found out the dad that abandon him when he was 2 got remarried and had 19 kids.  So if you add that to the 1 full brother and 4 half-brother and sisters his mom had.  That makes 24 brothers and sisters…*Removing photos of big house and replacing with photos of trailer home on Facebook*  

          I think I know why my husband put up with me for the last 15 years.  He found out that almost all of my Exes are either gay or dead….Yeah, I have that effect on people. 

Don’t forget to check out some of the blogs I follow, which are listed on the side of this blog and leave me a comment… I love hearing from everyone, even if you just say  “True that!”

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Tristan and Arial

“Tristan slow down, you are going to fast!”  Arial exclaimed tripping, trying to keep up with him.
“That’s not what you told Fairen last night, and he was moving quicker than a lecher in a whore house!” he hissed as he sped-up.
Arial stopped walking, put her hands on her hips, and yelled, “Would you deny me all pleasures Tristan?”
He stopped, turned around quickly, and looked at her, his eyes glazed over in anger.  “No…But Fairen, Arial?  He would like nothing more than to have my head on a platter, so he can deliver it to your father!” he bellowed. 
Letting go of her anger, she smiled at him. “I should have been more discreet and I am sorry.  I love you Tristan, surly you must know that by now.” She walked to where he stood and looked into his eyes as she placed her hand lightly on his neck.
He whispered hanging his head in shame.  “You know how jealous I can get sometimes.  I always fear you will someday leave me for another.”
They entered the mouth of a large cave, Tristan walked across the entrance and lied down on a massive pile of gold and jewels and Arial took her place curled up next to him. “I got a little something for you,” he said quietly, pushing a small box in front of her.
She opened the box and found a large diamond necklace with beautiful blue sapphires.  “You are too good to me,” she sighed, putting the necklace around her neck. “And I am glad you didn’t eat me when you had the chance,” she laughed, throwing her arms around his massive scaled neck.
“You have been the best companion a dragon could ever ask for,” he replied.

C.G. Powell

Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series
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The Memetastic Award! Done my way

The Memetastic Award!

I have been awarded The Memetastic Award by none other than Paige Pendleton of Gustatus Similis Pullus!!

Like so many before me who have walked down the hallowed halls of the golden statue, I, too, accept this awesome award. And, now I must follow the rules, which are:

1.You must proudly display the absolutely disgusting graphic in a post – Check
2.You must list 5 things about yourself, and 4 of them must be bold-faced lies. Your readers are to guess which one is the truth by posting a comment on your blog.  I followed this one in my own special way.  I have Listed 5 things about myself and only one of them is a bold-face lie….can you guess the lie?
3.You must pass this awesomely, prestigious award on to 5 deserving bloggers. –Check
Five things about myself, one of which is actually a lie:

1.       I met Queen Fabiola of Belguim.
2.       I once asked Hillary Clinton If I could borrow her photographer so I could get a picture with Trent Lott.
3.       I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.
4.       I got stuck in a Port of Prince hotel room for two months, because the UN was to chicken shit to get me out during a coup.
5.       I am band from entering no less than 8 countries.

Now readers, can anyone pick the lie?

Now, I will pass this award on to the following lucky recipients. Can I have a drum roll please? Are you ready? I’m excited. I feel like I’m giving away a .... an ugly graphic. With fondness and the best intentions.

1. Khloe Kamalis - The Story Tree
2. S. J. Wright - The Vampire's Warden
3. Michelle Ferguson - Michelle Ferguson Books
4. Wenona Hulsey - Inside the Mind of Wenona
5. S. E. Gordon - Fantasy Author S.E. Gordon

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Officer Barns – No Yellow Chalk

          Here on the streets of Culpeper, we have 30min and 2hour parking in the downtown area.  Since there are no meters a patrol officer walks up and down Davis Street marking the car tires in different color chalk every 30 minutes, that way they know when to write a parking ticket.

          It was a lovely almost spring day and my daughter and I decided to eat at one of my favorite restaurants downtown.  We got in the car and make the less than 2 mile journey to Davis Street.  Once there I found an empty place to park by the entrance of the restaurant and parked.  Before I could even get out of my car I spotted my favorite Police Officer……You guessed it, Officer Barns.  He had the parking patrol today and was diligently marking everyone’s tires in yellow chalk.
No…not yellow, I was thinking as I bolted out of the car to stop him before he make a hideous yellow mark on my tire.  “Good Moring Officer Barns, I see you have parking duty today.  I’m going to have to ask you to use a different color chalk on my tires.  Yellow does not match the color of the car and I don’t want to drive around the rest of the day with your yellow line marking its territory like a dog that just whizzed on my tires."
          “How are you Mrs. Gomez?  Will blue work for you?”  He calmly replied, knowing he would waste his time and breath, trying to convince me to let him mark my tire in yellow.
          “Yes.  Blue is fine. Anything but yellow,” I responded as I walked away.  He carefully wrote the time on my tire in blue chalk and went on his merry way.  After lunch we went to the Frenchman’s Corner across from the restaurant for Belgian Chocolate and tea.  When we were done and returned to the car, my daughter started to laugh as she looked at the passenger side of the car.  I walked around the car to see what she was laughing at. The time had been written on each tire along with notes all in light blue chalk.

          11:15 Nice to see you Mrs. G
          11:45 thank you for the OFC donation
          12:05 lunch must be good
          12:30 say hi to Marc
          13:03 please don’t make me write a ticket!

*note: Marc is the owner of the Frenchman’s Corner.

          I just stood there shaking my head, knowing I would now have to get my car washed.  But it is me we are talking about and I don’t know how to leave well enough alone.  So, I stopped in at the local Walmart and bought a large bucket of side walk chalk.  I carefully remove all the yellow ones and delivered it to the police station with a note:

          Dear Chief Jenkins,
I just wanted to give you and your fine patrol officers a shout out.  Job well done and make a little donation to the department, 64 colors are way better that 4. 

Mrs. Gomez

Don’t forget to like Officer Barns fan page on FB.!/pages/Officer-Barns/171250486258263

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Sunday, March 20, 2011

Dearly Departed Removed Post

M.D. Christie this blog was written for you.  It is about the comment you left on my blog yesterday…The one you removed.  I miss that comment so much; it has compelled me to write an entire blog page about it, just to prove you were right and should have left the comment up.

I have walked by you so many times with glancing stares, not wanting to loose my soul to the desire of tasting you on my lips.  You mock me silently as you sit there stoic, ignoring my ever lustful glances, unaware of the danger that your presence has caused and now that this place is empty of everyone but us, I can no longer contain my passion.  Your sweetness encompassing my mouth, yearning for more as I fight the desire not to bite.  Giving but not taking as you become one with the roof of my mouth, licking back and forth until I can bare it no longer and your explosion of sticky goo is swallowed leaving me wanting more. Life Savers Gummies, why do you tempt me so, with your brightly colored goodness? 

C.G. Powell
Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series
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Saturday, March 19, 2011

Crazy is as Crazy does

Have you ever looked back at you past and thought: My friend would call me crazy if they ever found out some of the stuff I have done in my past.  That thought is constantly going through my mind.  Maybe that’s why I am not so quick to be the center of attention when we get together.  I fear my past may peek its some what promiscuous head from the closet I keep all those bones of the past in.  Then what would the high society of this Podunk town think of me then.  Would they cut me off from the chamber socials?  Would the country club revoke my membership?  I mean we are only talking about my past and we all have one of those.
I could write it like a letter:
Dear British fighter pilot who’s name I do not recall, who could possibly say no to all that hotness?  Your accent had me enthralled from the moment “Hello” left your good looking lips and it took a week to get all the sand out of my hair and other unmentioned places.
Dear Jeff, thank you for the initiation into the mile high club. Do you think the pilots ever figured it out. Your green eyes haunt me to this day, despite your passing.  I can still feel you checking up on me at night when I sleep.
Dear Tom, your buff sexy survival instructor body made my knees weak every time I would see you and I could not have made it through survival school without your help.  I will never forget the week in the woods…we were evading both students and instructors and god was the sex good.
Dear Petty Officer Bailey, you gave the best massages ever, you hands were like magic as were other parts of your fine body.  Your cat and mouse game left me intrigued and restless.  But your touch was worth the games you played.

Dear Brent, you were every woman’s fantasy in your State Trooper uniform, blond hair, blue eyes and 6ft muscular frame.  I never thought two people could fit in the front seat of a squad car, but like always you proved me wrong…

I could write more. But why should I share all my secrets? 

Check out H.P. Mallory's Latest book "Tale of Two Goblins"  and a chance to win $100 B&N or Amazon gift card.

Follow the rules and you could get up to 8 points like me.

* Have read one of HPs books (+1 point)
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Friday, March 18, 2011

Another Day in Culpeper

I told myself I was going to write a blog today, even though my head is pounding from wine tasting yesterday.  Wine is not my friend and never has been and I should have stuck with the green St. Patty’s day beer instead.  Now I have wasted half of my writing time sleeping it off.

Yesterday started off great, up by 6am, kitchen cleaned, blogs read and commented on and about 400 words written in my book before lunch.  My daughter, who is visiting this week from WVU, wanted to eat lunch out with me and her grandma so, I got dressed and we went a mile down the road to Davis Street.  We decided to eat at a little place called It’s About Thyme It is just one of the many 5 star restaurants in Culpeper.  For a while I had stopped going there because the Clintons would go and shut down the restaurant from other patrons.  Apparently they did not like to eat in front of other people and that kind of pissed me off.

After lunch, my daughter who just turned 21 this month, wanted to go wine tasting…I just wanted to get home and write, but it was her day and I would give in to her spontaneous whims.  So we headed to Prince Michel’s Vineyard  which is only 8 miles away and tasted 15 different wines.  I am more of a rum kind of girl so wine tasting is not high on my list of things to do, especially since it gives me a headache.

The moral of this story is.  If you stay home and write, you can avoid the follies of good food, good company and wine…and of course the headache that will follow.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The CulPeeper

Recently my neighborhood has been terrorized by a peeping Tom and for weeks the city police and sheriff’s department have been trying to catch this elusive creature, but our peeper seems to be crafter than the cat that leaves foot prints on your car in the middle of the night. Sort of ironic considering both the sheriff and police stations are only about half a mile away.

I don’t know why he would pick this neighborhood as it consisted mainly of D.C. commuters.  I felt rather safe knowing that I was surrounded by neighbors that worked for the FBI, CIA and the prison system, plus my own ability to pump a shot gun with one hand while pressing the talk button on my intercom system.

Late one evening I was startled by the gaggle of cop cars plowing into the neighborhood with their lights and sirens blaring.  Out my back window I could see my neighbor Mr. CIA running out his front door with his gun still strapped on him from work.  He dashed around to the front of his neighbor house where I could see our ninja peeper just jumping over the four foot fence.  The police all jumped out of their cars and rushed to get through the fence to catch their assailant, which at this point would not seem to be very hard as our genius of a peeper managed to fall into the 6 foot deep hole the pool man just dug earlier that day and now lay splayed at the bottom with a broken leg.  All I can say is that our peeping Tom was very luck the pool man hit solid rock at 6 feet because the plans called for a 10 foot hole to accommodate a tall diving board.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Lawnmowers and Daylight savings time

I am suffering from blog block this morning and I blame it all on Daylight savings time.  There are some things a cup of coffee just can’t fix and DST is one of them.  I will be an hour off for the next 6 months, until all is right with the world again and time corrects itself in the fall from man’s interference.

Now everything bothers me, like the fact that our lawnmower has been broken for 3 years and my husband’s inability to fix it or replace it has finally gotten on my last nerve.  Not that I care that he pays someone to mow it, but at least man up and admit you don’t like mowing the lawn. Sometimes I think that because he is Hispanic he enjoys the fact that he has a white landscaper mowing his lawn.  I promise if you just roll the old lawnmower to the road and put a FREE sign on it I will not think you any less manly.  Not only that, but you can pick out any new mower you want, without my insightful input.

Oh and one more thing since I know how jealous my husband gets over little stuff….Jeff our landscaper is now single!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Giving in to suggestion

Sorry I did not post yesterday, I had to inventory new Gemstones and jewelry parts and my writing muse was pissed off about that.  Wait until she finds out I am not done with work because I spent much of my day yesterday going to the airport in D.C. during rush hour, which I used as a chance to clear my mind and sing really loud on my lone drive home.  I guess my muse forgot, I really can sing louder than she can.

This last month, my husband has been after me to take writing classes or a workshop or two.  In his mind you can’t do anything well if you don’t have a certificate to back it up.  Not that I am against either, I just don’t want to be bogged down with info while I am focusing on the story itself.  So last night I finally broke down and signed up for a writing workshop in October.  My husband was glad I was taking my writing seriously for once.  That was until I told him the workshop was a 7 day cruise.  Love you honey, but after 15 years you should know you can’t outwit me…Although I do love the challenge.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

King Cake - Hands off FedEx

After I returned from my sleep study yesterday, all I could do is think about the package I knew would be delivered sometime today.  This was a very special package for in it, was a reminder to my childhood days of family gatherings and Mardi Gras parades.  It has been 15 years since I have been home for Mardi Gras and I was really missing home, thanks to the 300 friends on my facebook who still live there and posted all their parade photo’s.  So, Sunday night I had finally broke down and ordered a King Cake despite its expense and today was its delivery day.   I bet some of you are thinking.  What is so special about King Cake?

King Cake is an oval shaped cake that is made of gourmet cinnamon dough, iced and decorated with sugars.  A tiny, plastic baby representing the infant Jesus is inserted into the cake.  Traditions holds that the person who gets the piece with the baby in it is obligated to bring a king cake to the next party.  These cakes are handmade and can be filled with some of the most delectable confections such as, cream cheese, pecan praline and apple cinnamon.  But most important is its representation of the Mardi Gras season.  Mardi Gras without King Cake would be like Christmas without the tree.

I spent all day with goop in my hair and adhesive on my face, arms and legs, refusing to take a shower and risk missing the FedEx truck.  I know sounds gross but, hey we are talking King Cake here!   Even my writing muse was refusing to sing until its sugary goodness was dripping from my lips.  The day dragged on slowly until the kid returned from school.  Both of them with the same question and it was not, hey mom how did your sleep study go?  Or how was your day mom?  No, those word would imply some thoughtfulness on their part.  The question each one asked as soon as they walked in the door was, “Mom is the King Cake here yet?”  Unfortunately, it was not.

At about 6:20pm the doorbell rang and I ran to answer it.  On my stoop stood Darren in his purple FedEx shirt, holding my much-coveted King Cake and he was not about to hand it over without a fight.  We stood there for five minutes discussing FedEx’s return policy, since it was the day after Mardi Gras, the cake was considered late and he would be more than happy to take care of it.  My argument, it was shipped on Monday using 2day shipping and I was too cheap to fork out any more money on this cake to overnight it, so the cake is on time.  In the mean time, my daughter could hear the conversation at the door and came to investigate.  As soon as she peeked around the doorframe she saw the box, “Yum… King Cake!”  Was the last thing Darren and I heard before she ripped the box from his hands and took it to the kitchen.  And with that, I wished him a good day.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Sleep Study

My adventure all started about 8pm when I put my overnight stuff in my purse.  It consisted of a toothbrush, toothpaste and a barrette all placed in a ziplock bag and my iPad.  My husband looked at me then asked, “Are you really going to drive to Warrenton dressed like that?”
“Yes, Yes I am,” I replied, not seeing anything being wrong about driving 24 miles in my nightclothes and robe.  I like to keep things simple and changing clothes at the sleep study clinic just did not appeal to me.  So, my attire consisting of plaid flannel pants, a night shirt and robe would have to do for the ride there and back.
Soon I arrived in the parking lot of the clinic where I patiently waited in my car for the technician to retrieve me as per instructions. I pulled out my iPad and started reading D.D. Scotts Muse Therapy and after 15 minutes, I was starting to feel like an addict parked in the night waiting for their dealer to arrive.  A little after 9pm a sweet young woman named Rhoda, motioned from the front door for me to enter the building.  She showed me to my room for the night and asked me to fill out the questionnaire on the clipboard.  I sat there answering questions about my normal sleep habit or in my case not so normal sleep habits.  Now the fun was about to begin, Rhoda brought me back to a room where she had tape, wires and conductive glue all waiting to be applied to me from head to toe.  I sat still while she tape and gelled what seemed to be 200 probes randomly to me.  We talked about her home country, the Philippines and it brought back memories of the beautiful Island I had spent time on during my career in the Navy. 
Now that I was hooked up, it was time to sleep…Yeah right, do they really think I’m going to sleep?  I don’t even sleep at home, why in the world would I sleep here?  So started Rhoda’s long night of attaching and reattaching the wires I had pulled off, in my effort to sleep.  5am could not come fast enough, Rhoda taped on the door, I was already awake waiting to be released from my wiry prison.  I quickly filled out another questionnaire about my night’s sleep or lack thereof and then bolted to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get the hell out of there.  Yes, still in my nightclothes.  I made my way back home, waving to Officer Barns as he sat in his squad car on the edge of town.
So, how did you spend your night? 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Officer Barns

Oh Officer Barns, if you only knew some of the things I say about you behind your back.  Today you made me remember why I love living in a small town, where everyone knows everyone.  It all started off well, when I thought I would do a little shopping at the local Target.  To my dismay, every screaming baby in town was there with their less than concerned at home mom.  Instead of enjoying my time browsing the store, I got what I needed plus a Migraine.  On my way home traffic was at a complete stop while road crews attempted to patch, what the plow trucks had removed this winter.  But that was not the real reason there was traffic.  Standing in the middle of the intersection was my favorite police officer. 

Now you may be wondering how I became acquainted with one of Culpeper’s finest.  Seven years ago Officer Barns wrote my very first ticket, sort of a welcome to Culpeper kind of thing.  If I were a normal sort of person it would not have bothered me.  But having gone 22years without ever getting a tick and teaching defensive driving while in the Navy, It bothered me a lot.  For the last seven years we have had a few run ins, mostly at charitable events and chamber meetings.

Back to today....I got tired of waiting for Officer Barns to let us go.  So, I rolled down my window and shouted.  "Get this Circus moving already!"  To which Officer Barns responded.  "Mrs. Gomez, do I need to put you in the back of my squad car?"  Not remembering exactly who he was dealing with.   "Only if you cuff me first, cause I like it that way," I grinned.  His face went completely red as the one of the road workers busted out laughing at my comment.  Not to be out done, he pulled out his cell phone and said "Thank God your husband is on my speed dial."  Which wiped the smile right off my face.

Don't forget to like Officer Barns FB fan page.!/pages/Officer-Barns/171250486258263

Monday, March 7, 2011

Amusing My Muse

Since I began this journey a little over a month ago, I have added another person to my household, not physically but mentally.  I have always opened my home to those who visit or just need a place to lay their head.  But this new person has no regard for my rules.  They sing when they want, whether it is lunchtime or midnight, they have become more demanding than a toddler at Wal-Mart and occasionally they require entertainment, anything to get the wheels going.

I know, most people would not put up with such an ungracious guest, yet I embrace this one.  Writing when they sing and with fury when they sing loud.  Pushing myself to meet their demands and even putting Sea Monkeys on my desk for their amusement.  In many ways, they have become my constant companion when disinterested friends and family abandon me.

And so, a Muse is born.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

My First Blog

All my life I have considered myself a reader not a writer.  That all change the day I read my first H. P. Mallory book.  Now I have immersed myself in the world of writing and seriously, needed to have my head examined.  What was I thinking?  No really, I have no idea!  I avoided writing at all cost for most of my why now?  I ask myself. 

Have you ever ran a mile, raised Sea Monkeys or programmed your DVR just to prove you could do it?  I live my whole life by this concept.  Not should I do it?  Like the voice of reason looking for a way to prove self worth or purpose...But can I do it?  Which is more of a personal challenge, void of any legitimate reason other than self-satisfaction. 

I have challenged myself to write and in 4 1/2 weeks, I have written 30,000 words.  Bringing me one-step closer to self-gratification and to my amazement a better understanding of how a story lives in each of us.  Some nonfiction, some fiction and others complete fantasy.  But only a few of us choose to put it in writing.