Tag: humor

A Cowboy at Sweet Pea

Sweet Pea Cafe in Tallahassee serves nothing but vegan fare. Since I’m no longer able to consume dairy, I’ve become a big fan of vegan food because I never have to worry if there’s dairy lurking within my meal, and Sweet Pea’s cuisine is really good.

I’ve become accustomed to seeing all sorts of interesting folks dining at Sweet Pea. The clientele is often what I’d call bohemian, but corporate types dine here, too. I fall somewhere in the middle.

Today, though, there was an honest-to-goodness cowboy. He’s even from Texas. Yes, I asked. He took a seat at one of the communal picnic tables and engaged in a lively discussion about languages with his fellow diners.

Is he the start of a new trend? Cowboy vegans? Or was he just here to mess with my mind? After all, I did write a book titled The Cowboy and the Executive…He could have been on the cover. I should’ve asked him to pose. Or not.

The Cowboy and the Executive: A West Texas Romance https://www.amazon.com/dp/B095BVSF3L/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_2M1T6286YJ0FE1V3YE43

Peace, and yeehaw, people!

No Brunch for You!

Neither Studly Doright nor I remembered to make reservations for Easter brunch, and now every place in Tallahassee is booked. Looks like the Easter bunny is going to be dining on whatever this non-cook can cook up.

Peace and happy Easter, people.

And So it Begins

Since I first realized that people were actually reading my debut novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, and that additional books were in order, I began contemplating a Christmas themed addition to the series.

Now that I’ve published one sequel and the third book is in the hands of my editor, I could no longer resist the thought of Christmas at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort for book four. So…

That pitiful first paragraph has no idea what changes it will undergo.

The hard part is getting those first words on paper. Oh, and coming up with a suitable ending. That and deciding what happens in between. You know—the whole enchilada is a challenge. And I can’t stop smiling.

Peace, people.

http://Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort (The Happy Valley Series) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P76RBRD/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_QRNAVKN45BTS0X5HRFE3

http://Wedding at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort (The Happy Valley Series) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09M544HFH/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_QSQ6FNX7PPNJ9R6C3SYP

Dadgum Neck

I’ve been thinking about my neck recently. It’s not a topic I’ve really considered until just a few weeks ago when a woman told me my neck was making me look old. Of course, she was attempting to sell me some expensive skin care cream that would work miracles if only I’d apply it multiple times between morning and night when I would then switch to the nighttime formula that contained even more expensive ingredients. All natural. Organic, even. Even so, my neck would still be a problem.

“It’s got a bit of fat beneath the chin there. I can’t do anything about that,” she said.

Up until that moment I hadn’t noticed the fat beneath my chin. Now, it’s all I can see. Except, I can’t actually see it—not the view I need anyway. I need to see it from the side, but that’s all but impossible on my own. So from now on, I’m only looking at everyone straight on. No more profile shots.

So, if everyone would kindly queue up in a line facing me and only me, I’d really appreciate it. Save me tons of money.

Peace, people.

Get in line, kiddo.

Swoon Worthy

Huey Lewis reacted to MY post. Mine.

I love Huey Lewis. Yes, Studly Doright is well aware of the fact that Huey is my dream man. That voice. Oh my. That look. Oh dear! And he seems like a genuinely good person. Bonus points!

So when something I posted on Huey’s Facebook page gets a ❤️ reaction, I’m ready to chuck 45 years of marriage down the drain, ‘cause if Huey’s ready to propose, I want to be available.

Okay, I realize that THE Huey Lewis likely never saw my post or reacted to it, but someone he probably knows did and, hey, can a proposal be far behind?

I’d never leave Studly anyway. Right? Right.

Peace, People.

I Should be Asleep

11:38.

I’ve been in bed for more than an hour now. I read for a while. Yawned. Closed my eyes, but couldn’t doze off.

Tossed. Turned. Got up and had a talk with my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Took a drink of water. Now of course I’ll need to pee. But not right now—later when I’ve come close to slipping into some sweet dream.

There’s a headache working behind my left eyebrow, and an itch cropping up in various unreachable spots on my back. I’d wake Studly Doright to scratch for me, but he’s happily snoring and I hate to interrupt a man doing what he does best.

I’ve been under the weather for several days now. An upset stomach has me feeling BLAH. I’d take something to help me sleep, but that’s really not a great idea when one has a stomach virus.

So here I am, hoping to write myself into sleepiness. It could be working. I might have drifted off for a second or two. Yep. Now I need to use the facilities.

11:54.

Peace, people.

Oops!

When you realize that you took two Tylenol P.M. instead of two regular Tylenol at 2:30 p.m.—that’s an oops. Thank goodness I didn’t have a pressing engagement outside of Doright Manor today, but so much for getting much editing done on Reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort this afternoon.

Let’s see how far I get before my eyes start to close.

Poor Thag.

Peace, people.

Where’s the Beer?

I’m in the middle of proofreading and editing the first draft of Reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. Every time I go through this process with a book I’m amazed at the silly errors I’ve made.

Honestly, I should turn out a better first draft. I taught English, for pity’s sake. My spelling savvy has always been above average; although, time and spell check have played hell with that skill. And I have a prodigious vocabulary. (See what I did there?) Yet, I often leave out words, apostrophes, and the occasional comma. My excuse? My brain works faster than my fingers do. Or maybe my fingers work faster than my brain. I’m sure one of the two is true.

With the help of several eagle-eyed beta readers I’m combing through my missteps, and just this morning I ran the editing program that comes with Microsoft Word. My score for the document was good, but not yet perfect, so I did a quick search to find the culprit.

I really did mean beer.

Apparently Word’s editor thought we were trapped in a vintage Wendy’s commercial.

https://youtu.be/riH5EsGcmTw

Peace, people.

Bye Bye Bras (and Knickers)

My spring closet cleaning continues at an amazingly slow pace. Every time I’m in a groove something shifts my attention away from sorting and tossing to less productive activities such as reading or napping.

That’s not to say that I’m not making progress, though, and this morning I found ten dollars in change in an old wallet. Cha-ching!

If my cleaning efforts could be kept strictly to the closet the whole process would be over and done with already; unfortunately, when I rearrange one group of items another space either opens up or closes off. That’s what happened when I moved my brassiere collection from a dresser drawer into the closet.

You see, I realized I had bras that hadn’t been worn since the presidency of the first George Bush and they needed to go. So I made a nice pile of saggy old bras on top of the electronic organ I’m totally incapable of playing.

I wondered if perhaps my knickers (panties) drawer had similar pieces, and indeed it did. Elastic? Had that stringy stuff around the waistband and leg openings once been elastic? I made a second pile.

Then I googled Goodwill to see if they’d accept my castoffs (not the worst of them, but the ones that could still maintain their intended functions) and the answer was no. So, what to do with a sizable stack of undies on the electronic organ? (I can actually play both halves of Heart and Soul—just not at the same time.)

Again I googled and found a company called Knickey. For a $5.00 fee, Knickey will accept used panties, bras, and tights. You box them up. They’ll send you a mailing label via email and it’s easy breezy! They recycle the undies into materials that can be used in mattresses. Maybe other stuff, too. Plus, they send you a pair of their organic panties.

I sent my underwear, even the worst of the worst, off this morning and now I’m free to not play the organ once again.

Here’s a link to Knickey: https://knickey.com/pages/recycle?gclid=Cj0KCQjw_4-SBhCgARIsAAlegrUpmIdrZe3wrFKHI00uDJ60edwHxXMr1l17OLcBXeKz81zg6ze0QsIaApYLEALw_wcB

And that’s how it’s done.

Peace, people.

Staycation 2022

A few days ago I typed “The End” on my fourth novel, Reunion at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, the third in the Happy Valley trilogy. If that sounds confusing, it’s because one of my books, The Cowboy and the Executive, is for now, a stand-alone romance.

“Reunion” is currently in the hands of beta readers and I know it’s being read with an eye for all of my missteps and goof ups. Unless one is perfect, and I have yet to meet anyone fitting that description, beta readers and a good editor are essential to creating a finished book with a polished feel.

I’m a better than average proofreader, but when it comes to one’s own writing one develops a certain selective blindness. I still cringe at some of the minor errors I now see in Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, and one day maybe we’ll pull the book from Amazon and fix them. Just not today.

While “Reunion” is being worked on, I’m cleaning out my closet. Ugh. A job I’d planned on taking one day is now into its fourth. Of course it might go more quickly if I weren’t also taking breaks to ruminate on book four in the Happy Valley series—working title, Christmas at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. Yes, Paula, Cassie, and the gang are coming along for at least one additional adventure before I wrap the series up. Will Santa show up with just the right presents? Maybe.

Spring fever has attacked with a vengeance this year. I want to be outside, but outside makes my eyes water. The weather here in the Florida panhandle is absolutely gorgeous, but the pollen is everywhere. I could make a “pollen man” and stick a corn cob pipe in his mouth, but I’d probably collapse from sneezing mid-construction. At least I’m not cold, and that’s a plus.

Okay, that closet is still calling. I might see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then again, maybe that’s an oncoming train.

Peace, people!

http://Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort (The Happy Valley Series) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P76RBRD/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_H12TRC11J2TMQJHCTPQT