Let’s Call the Police!

Yesterday, after I collected Anderson from kindergarten, we went to buy soup at the Dollar Tree (only a dollar a can for name brand soups and I’m eating lots of soup because of my cold) and then came home. He asked to go to Nana’s house so I brought him home. When he got out of the car, the first thing he noticed was that my garden flag saying Happy Halloween was gone. He asked me why I took it down (he gets to take the flag down and pick the next one as I have several possibilities for each season). I told him I did not take it down. It was stolen. He asked who took it and I said I didn’t know. Someone had stolen it. We’ve been talking about stealing because we saw a shoplifter being arrested at Target the other day and he wanted to know why the police were taking the man away. He doesn’t understand stealing because he wouldn’t think of taking something that doesn’t belong to him.

“We should call the Police and tell them to go get the bad guys that stole it, Nana.”

I explained, or tried to, that we couldn’t call the Police for something little like a stolen flag because Police have a lot of things to do and a lot of really bad people to go after.  He said the Police are supposed to get the “stealers” so we should call them. I kept trying to explain but his five year old mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea that nothing was going to be done about a stolen garden flag.

Read Full Post »

Ugh!

Well, it rained. And then it rained some more. And then it poured. And it gusted. And it was Halloween.

A couple of things saved the day. First, the shopping center was having trick-or-treating in the afternoon. We were not going to take them but we figured they might not get to go later if the rain forecast proved to be true and it didn’t look crazy so we took them trick-or-treating there in the afternoon. We got to about the last four or five stores when it began to pour buckets on us. There was some shelter and they went to the last of the stores and we ran into Target to wait for my daughter to go to the other end of the shopping center and bring the car.

We had dinner at Anderson’s favorite restaurant, Olive Garden, which was in the same shopping center. When we got out of the restaurant, it was pretty clear that the rain was not going to let up and the boys would not get to go trick-or-treating when it got dark. So we asked Anderson what would make the rest of the day special. He said he wanted to go home and have a party. We went to the grocery store and he picked out chocolate chip cookies. We stopped by my house and I ran through and grabbed all of my skeletons, spider webs, bats, witches, and skulls off of the walls and from the porch and headed to my daughter’s house. I ran around her house putting the decorations up all over while she cleaned up and vacuumed because Anderson wanted to dance. They had a great time dancing to Monster Mash, Purple People Eater, Witch Doctor and some other songs. Spencer played with plastic rats that I had as part of the decorations when he was not dancing. Fun. Fun. Fun! So the night was salvaged and they didn’t feel cheated!

Then I came home to wait for midnight to start my NaNoWriMo project. I’m still sick and staying up til midnight was tough last night but I managed to get in a little over 800 words in 20 minutes then I went to bed because I had agreed to meet another woman at a coffee house for a write-in at 10 this morning. I did that and got to 2600 words.  Now I am trying to set up my blog with the NaNoWriMo widget, which looks like it is working. However, the widget for NanoPoblano (posting on this blog every day in November) hosted by Rarasaur doesn’t seem to work. I’ve really had a tough time setting up widgets this calendar year. I am ready to give up for awhile. Maybe I can delete it all and start from scratch later.

In any case, that’s my day so far and it is only a bit after 1 in the afternoon. I need a nap. I need to read some blogs. I need to do a little research for my NaNoWriMo project. I need to set up tomorrow’s post so I can get it out of the way early because I am meeting people to write at a coffee shop early tomorrow morning and won’t have time to do it before I leave for that.

That’s it for this post, I think. If you get a chance to do so, click here to find the others that are participating in NanoPoblano 2015. I’m sure you’ll find some interesting blogs there!

Read Full Post »

The Cookbook–Part 2

Short fiction.  Writing from a prompt.  Part 1 here.

____________________________________________

Emily explored her new cookbook, reading through the recipes page by page and taking time to think through the ingredients and procedures.  She was looking for something that would pop out at her…some special recipe that did not remind her of any other recipe she had ever seen or tried.  She was so consumed with reading through the book and deciphering the many notes, some of which appeared to be in different languages and in different handwriting that she forgot all about the competition she had applied to enter.  As she sat with the book in her hands, feeling the vibrations of those that had used it before her, it grew dark outside and before she knew it, she had to get up and turn on the lights.  As she got up, she placed the book on the table.  Coming back to the book after flipping the light switch to the on position, she noticed the pointy corner of a faded pink piece of paper.  She hadn’t seen it before but it was there now.  She tugged at it gently.  It appeared to be stuck between the back board and the endpaper of the cookbook.  It was in there tightly and Emily realized that it could not have gotten back there by mistake.  It was intentionally hidden there.  She wondered why as she finally freed the paper from its hiding place.

The paper was old and the edges were not in the best shape.  The outside of it was more faded than the inside.  As she unfolded the paper, Emily saw what was definitely feminine writing with a lot of loops and flourishes.  It was a letter which read: “Beloved niece, this is what you asked me for but I warn you that it is to be used only on the young man that you are sure is the perfect mate.  You must be one hundred percent positive that the young man is the one you wish will adore you til the day he dies; the one you will honour and cherish all the days of your life.  Once consumed, there is no turning back and the two of you will be bound together forever.  So be very careful and choose wisely.  If there is any doubt, do not use it.  Wait until there is not a sliver of doubt.”

Intrigued, Emily read the few lines to the recipe: “Philtre d’amour–dittany of crete, banana leaves, boil in water then add to chocolate. Administer mixture as a drink every night during the waxing moon. While you boil and prepare the ingredients, you must think only of your beloved and imagine seeing him/her in their natural state and cherishing them every day of your life.  To be prepared and administered with the greatest of caution.”

Giggling at the silliness of even the idea of a love potion, Emily folded the paper and returned it to its secret hiding place.  She continued to browse the recipes in the book and finally came upon one that intrigued her.  It was for a simple, yet very appealing banana chocolate cake.  She marked it so she could prepare it the next day just in case she made it to the competition.  She might just need a new recipe for that occasion.

In the end, Emily was accepted into the competition and not only did she win in her category, she also fell absolutely, totally in love with one of the judges.  His name was Romero and he had paid special attention to Emily throughout the competition.  When it was over, he had asked her if she would like to go on a date with him.  Three dates later, Emily had found the one man that was her true love; the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.  She remember the faded pink paper in her chocolate cookbook and knew that it was put there and meant to be found by her so that she could win the heart of her true love, Romero.  She pulled it out of the cookbook and began to look it over so she could get the ingredients and make the love potion.  She would have to hurry as the moon would be entering its waxing stage in just three nights.  She studied the paper carefully, eyes full of dreams of her future.

The prompt: A woman purchases an old cookbook at a used bookstore and discovers a note tucked inside its pages.

Source: The Writer’s Book of Matches: 1001 Prompts to Ignite Your Fiction, by the Staff of Fresh Boiled Peanuts, put out by Writer’s Digest Books.

Read Full Post »

The Cookbook–Part 1

Short story.  Writing from a prompt.

____________________________________________

Emily was nervous and when she was nervous she would leave the house to distract herself.  Her favorite thing to do was to go to antique stores and to thrift shops.  She always got wrapped up in the little treasures that had belonged to other people.  They made her think and wonder and imagine who might have had any particular item.  Like one day last August she had found a fan…one of those delicate paper and tortoiseshell hand fans.  It had been displayed behind glass, fully extended to show off the delicate hand painted design full of colorful flowers and tiny butterflies against a cloudless light blue sky.  The little card next to it read: “Spain, 1894. Ecru parchment, tortoiseshell.”  It had sent Emily off on an imaginary trip to 1894.  She made up a story of two young lovers, Emilia and Rogelio, who were forbidden from seeing each other.  Rogelio had bought the fan for Emilia and had persuaded Emilia’s chaperone to give it to her for him.  He had given it to the chaperone in a box with a handwritten love note hidden under the tissue paper that folded over the delicate fan. Two days later, Rogelio heard from one of the servants in Emilia’s house that her parents had found the love note in Emilia’s things and had sent her away.  She was bound for the coast, to Cadiz, to board a ship. Rogelio could not even find out where she was being sent.  He departed for Cadiz as soon as he heard to try to find Emilia before she left his world but he was too late.  Even before he arrived in Cadiz, he had run into one of the house servants that worked in Emilia’s house.  He had just left her at the port where she had already boarded the ship.  All he could tell Rogelio was that the ship was headed to America and had already departed.  Broken hearted, Rogelio returned to the village where he lived near Cordoba.  He had been so dejected, so hopeless, that he had stopped eating and soon fell ill.  Without Emilia in his future, Rogelio had no reason to fight for his life and so he succumbed to his broken heart.

Thinking about the competition to which she had applied, she left her apartment to find a distraction from the worrying and waiting to hear if her application would be accepted.  She wanted to be in this competition.  It would make or break her.  Winning, or even placing in this competition, would give her the publicity she needed as she prepared to open her one shot at fame and happiness–her own bakery.  She headed for the antique store but instead, something led her into the thrift shop around the corner from the antique store.  Sherry, the clerk at the thrift shop greeted her, “Hey Emily!  Listen, you might be interested in this box.  I was just sorting through them to price them.  They’re all cookbooks.  Interested?  If you want any of them you can have them for a buck a piece while they’re unsorted.”  Emily thanked Sherry and started to rummage through the box. She found one book with chocolate recipes.  Emily had a lot of chocolate recipes already but this one was an old book with a lot of handwritten notes and recipes clipped to the pages throughout the book.  It made her smile, remember how her grandmother’s favorite cookbook looked just like this one, full of her Nana’s own recipes, corrections, and notes clipped and taped to the pages.  She decided one could never have enough chocolate recipes and if she found even one recipe within the pages, it would be worth it.  Emily grabbed the vintage cookbook and paid Sherry for it and headed home to look through the new to her recipes, in search of a new treasure.

Part 2 here

The prompt: A woman purchases an old cookbook at a used bookstore and discovers a note tucked inside its pages.

Source: The Writer’s Book of Matches: 1001 Prompts to Ignite Your Fiction, by the Staff of Fresh Boiled Peanuts, put out by Writer’s Digest Books.

Read Full Post »