I passed up an opportunity to buy this, um, intriguing bit of artwork at an estate sale this morning, but the damned thing may haunt me for a while anyway.
Ugly Ducklings
Just Wandering in the Garden
I’m no gardener. I have managed to keep four small succulents alive for two years so I might have a green pinkie, but my thumb is more of a dark purple color.
There is a place I go in Tallahassee, though, where I can pretend I’m a gardening gal. I wander about, pulling a flat cart for my purchases even though I know if I buy anything at all it’ll be an item from the gift shop or maybe just another cactus.
The place is Tallahassee Nursery, and all of my gardening dreams come alive there. I have a fantasy in which I get myself locked in at night. I’d have a picnic and a bottle of wine in front of the gift shop cottage and then roam the grounds until midnight when I’d tuck myself into a hammock and drift away beneath the stars. It’s a lovely fantasy.
Alas, I didn’t manage to get locked in, but I took photos of the place so I can daydream from home.
I adore this place even if they won’t let me spend the night.
Peace, people.
Okay, I Panicked
Since publishing my book through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing, I check the book’s status on the Amazon site at least twice a day. Mostly I want to see if there are any new reviews, but I also still get a thrill from seeing a book with my name on it for sale on the website. It’s a rush,
This afternoon, though, when I checked on Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort it was gone from the Amazon website, and no matter how I searched for it, I couldn’t find it. I had a panic attack. What had happened? Was I banned? If so, why?
But then I noticed that none of the books written by a Leslie Noyes was showing up in a search. My friend Leslie Morris Noyes’s outstanding book, Willing, was missing as was the book, Back to Pakistan, a Fifty Year Journey by Leslie Noyes Mass. In my paranoid state I concluded that SOMEONE had a vendetta against people named Leslie Noyes.
I shook my fist at the heavens. Then I contacted Leslie Morris Noyes who in turn contacted Amazon. I’d have done that myself, but couldn’t find the number. At any rate, by the time Amazon returned her call the books had been restored to the site. Whew.
And who knows why the books went missing in the first place? Maybe it was a glitch, or maybe a sign from the universe that I need to finish my second book. Or maybe, just maybe, someone does have it in for Leslie Noyeses… We may never know.
Peace, people.
As the Worm Turns
Last evening Studly Doright, my husband of 44.5 years, found a YouTube video about extraordinarily large animals. The video seemed dated—like something one might’ve watched on an old projector on a snow day in elementary school, but I couldn’t persuade Studly to find another program.
There were some interesting segments in the video. For example, a Great Dane named Zeus who, when standing on his hind legs, measured 7 feet, 4 inches tall.
And a longhorn named Poncho Vila (their spelling, not mine), who boasted the widest horn spread of any living steer.
But those animals didn’t haunt my dreams. These did:
South African earthworms can grow up to 22 feet long, with an average length of six feet. I woke up in a cold sweat this morning with the words, “The worm has turned” lingering in my mind. Eww!
Of course that made me curious about the origin of the phrase. I turned to Wikipedia for an answer— “Even a worm will turn” is an expression used to convey the message that even the meekest or most docile of creatures will retaliate or seek revenge if pushed too far. The phrase was first recorded in a 1546 collection of proverbs by John Heywood, in the form “Treade a worme on the tayle, and it must turne agayne.” Wikipedia
Well that was reassuring. Note to self: Treade not upon a worme’s tayle.
Tonight before bedtime I’m going to suggest a nice documentary about how bread is made or scenes depicting paint drying on a garden wall. Just no more giant worms, please.
Peace, people!
Of Course I Know What I’m Doing
Sunday evening Studly Doright and I decided to go out for dinner at our favorite Asian restaurant in Tallahassee. The place was really busy, but they were still maintaining social distancing protocol. We had a nice meal and didn’t linger since others were waiting for a table.
We walked out of the restaurant and I hesitated on the sidewalk because the driver of a pickup truck was maneuvering to back into a spot adjacent to the path we needed to take to get to our own vehicle.
Studly said, “Why’d you stop?
Me: Because there’s no curb and I don’t want him to back over me.
Studly praised me. You see he’s always saying I have awareness issues. “Maybe you’re learning something after all these years.”
The pickup came to a complete stop and Studly and I continued on to our Lincoln SUV. Well, Studly did. I tried to get into a similarly colored Chevy van. So much for conquering my awareness issues. Sheesh.
Peace, people.
Into the Dark
I read a lot. I’m not the speediest reader in the world, so I average about a book a week unless the book in question is a lengthy sci-fi tale. Sometimes sci-fi books become so technical that I might need two or three weeks to absorb a single book.
Recently though I read a trilogy that fell into a category called dark erotic romances. My curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t figure out why the books were labeled “dark,” but after five pages I thought, Aha. NOW I know!”
My first inclination was to order a different, much tamer book and forget I’d spent money on the trilogy, but dadgum it, the author kind of hooked me right away. I already liked her main character and needed to see what happened to him. But, holy cow the story was dark and gleefully erotic—and I read all three books in the space of four days. Yes, they were fairly short, but still that’s something of a record for me.
The author mentioned several songs I’d never heard of in the text of the stories, and one made it to my writing playlist. “Ride” by Chase Rice might be the hottest song I’ve heard in a long time. It makes me wish I was 21 instead of 64.
And as for dark erotica, I believe I’ve reached my lifetime limit after those three books. I don’t need to travel that path again. In fact, I’m thinking about rereading the Anne of Green Gables books just to cleanse my mind.
I’ve always heard that variety is the spice of life. Well mine got a little too spicy—at least for a few days.
Peace, people!
Looking for Love
Remember Johnny Lee’s hit song, “Looking for Love (in All the Wrong Places)” from the movie Urban Cowboy? https://youtu.be/FAyDmJvjxbg. I two-stepped a time or two to that song back in the day.
Now that I have a book on the market, I’ve found renewed interest in the song. Indie authors like me are always looking for love in the form of new readers and reviewers. I’d say it’s a hard knock life, but that would be an exaggeration and a whole different movie/song reference.
I find myself touting my book to everyone: my esthetician, my physical therapist, my gynecologist during my annual exam, the checkout person at the grocery store, random folks in line for their vaccinations at CVS, etc.
Occasionally my marketing strategy pays off and I’ll gain a new reader, but often I run the risk of being an annoyance. So far I’ve not been chased away with torches and pitchforks, but it could happen.
So, at the risk of annoying you, dear reader, I’m promoting my first novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PDRH2Q9/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glt_N8QPC4KEQNA1TTH8WD9Y
Please be gentle with me.
Peace, people.
Queen Gracie
This is the look Gracie gives me when I’ve been typing too long. I don’t know how anyone expects me to write when this little girl is vying for my attention.
Peace, people!
Beating My Head Against a Wall
For two straight days I’ve worked to make major changes to my sequel to Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. Like a good little author, I always save my changes to a thumb drive in addition to saving to my original document.
But when I opened the document this afternoon, the file had none of the changes I’d made and neither did the one I’d saved on the thumb drive. My head is spinning. I’m not sure what happened or how I lost about 3,000 words. And worse yet, apparently I had the auto save function turned off.
Oh, and now, my document wants to put about five lines of empty space between paragraphs. Any Mac experts out there to help me fix this particular issue?
I’m about to cry. Seriously. Sigh. Back to the drawing board.
Damn.
All I Need is This Box
Do you think our cat has enough toys?
And yet Gracie prefers the box.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 