August Makes an Exit: Flash Fiction Friday

August was ready to go.  We knew it couldn't last forever.  Why were so surprised?

There were good points and bad points to August, but overall, we enjoyed August's company.  August could be hot, enough to make you sweat uncomfortably.  August could thunder and rage, a deluge of anger. 

August could also be kind and touching, a gentle spirit that could breeze across your soul.  Walking with August at night was a real treat.  The sounds of August blended with the sounds of nature. 

I could sit underneath the oak with August, and August would quietly listen to everything I had to say, and then I would experience the reassurances.  I was a good person.  I had positive qualities.  August said so.  Every touch, every smile, every radiant warmth August would emanate would tell me that.

August was a welcome guest in our house.  When Augst was packed and ready to go, we were not ready for August to go.  But nothing lasts forever.  To everything, there is a season.

August gave us one last hug.  I was reluctant to let go.  Eventually, I did.

August, bags in hand, proceeded down our driveway.  At the end of the street, August's family was there to greet him.  August embraced his beloved spouse, January,  And then he was hugged by his precious daughters - March, April, May, and June.  July, his rebellious young son, hung back sullenly at their van.

The van side door opened and out from the back seat popped out August's two youngest daughters, September and October.  September was dressed chaotically, blue jean shorts with holes in them and a burgundy jacket.  She had a crazed look in her eye, like she was not sure what direction she was going to take from one minute to the next.  October hung back with July, dressed in goth style, with a black dress, black hair, and thick black eyeshadow.

"Would you mind watching September for us?  Just for a while?" asked January. "She needs a little time away from the family, maybe even experience public school, if that's all right?"

We looked at each other, a little anxious about taking in this surly looking teenager.  Who were we kidding?  We had become addicted to August and his wonderful family.  We had gotten used to spending time with each and every one of them.  Well, except for maybe December.  That boy liked to party, but he could be one cold dude.

We nodded our approval.  We opened our arms to greet September, but she just walked past us, shoulders slumped, listening to music on her earphones.

Ah, September!  How volatile you can be!

August and his clan clambered into their van. August cracked open a window and waved goodbye to us.  We returned the gesture, waving goodbye to August.

Time to make September feel at home.

Enjoy a T. M. Strait Book! See A Purlie Production Play!

T. M. Strait

Local Author

Supports the best in local theatre

Purlie Productions

                                       
$3.99 ebook                            $3.99 ebook                                                            $1.99 ebook
$15 paperback                        $20 paperback                                                        $10 paperback

History of the Trap:  YA science fiction/fantasy in the vein of Harry Potter. The Hunger Games 
                                     and Stranger Things.

Crowley Stories: Swamp's Edge - slice of life stories spinning around characters in a small                                                                   Southeastern Georgia town bordering on the Okefenokee                                                                 Swamp.

Here Comes Tommy:  funny, sentimental, and nostalgic autobiographical stories about                                                       growing up.

Others as ebooks only, including Eric Reid & the Time Team, and Through the Closet and Into the Woods.

Coming Soon:  A Christmas With Pegasus, My Europa, The Extra Credit Club, and Vol. 2 of History of the Trap!

Check out The Strait Line (http://thestraitline-tmstrait.blogspot.com) for three to five new blog entries per week!

A columnist with The Blackshear Times and other papers throughout Georgia.

Books available at  Purlie performances, from the author, at the Okefenokee Heritage Center, or online from Amazon and other online vendors.

Break legs, Purlie Productioneers!

ALIENS ATTACK!

It's happening!

Aliens have attacked DC, and are now imposing an immoral, dangerous culture on all of us!

Of course, this happened a while ago, say around November 2016, and it's taken some time for most Americans to realize they've been taken over by aliens who do not hold to American values.  They cater not to our best instincts, but to our worst. 

They did not do so alone.  They were heavily aided by foreign interests outside the United States.  Aliens helping aliens.  How else could it have happened?

The first amendment?  A piece of toast, to be burnt up and ignored.  No more freedom of the press - they are now reviled as enemies of the people.  No more freedom of religion - not with an imposition of a Muslim Ban, and with one faith (the Christian Right) able to influence laws so that it is A-OK for them to bully, intimidate, and discriminate.  And taking a knee to protest police brutality towards minorities makes you unpatriotic scum subject to fines and losing your job, while refusing to display your flag at half-mast to honor a fallen war hero is considered A-OK.

The aliens in charge vilify immigrants.  They questions minorities and the poor.  They spit on all the things that made America great, and want to turn us back into a nation of unchallenged white privilege, forever and ever, amen.

Just look at the list of citizens participating in John McCain's funeral.  It is a who's who of America, every stripe and ideology.  Two of his rivals, George W. Bush and Barack Obama, will deliver eulogies.  Because underneath the bitter partisan displays, they all knew that they were Americans, and even though approaches differ, they shared a common civic culture.  McCain stood up to the woman who called Obama a Muslim.  W Bush refused to villanize Muslims after 9/11.  None of these men were perfect, but they operated under civic norms, and fundamental respect for each other, and the institutions and country they served.

And now we've lost all that.  We have an alien in the White House, one who has no respect for America and its civic culture.  He serves no one but himself. 

Greed.  Corruption.  Hatred of the other.  They're the gruesome underbelly of America, not the mainstream civic spirit that shined through, even with Reagan.


The aliens are in the White House. The Congress remains cowardly, subservient and compliant, bending to the alien's will.  The Supreme Court is on the verge of alien control for decades to come.

But it's not too late to end the invasion and do what we can to rescue the best parts of this nation. There is an election coming up in November,  and we can send a message that we will no longer be ruled by an alien entity. 

Vote as if our civic culture and democracy depend upon it.

Because it does.

The Dominoes Start to Fall: Saturday Political Soap Box 191

Gee whiz.

There's just so many places where it could start to fall.

There are the innumerable violations of the emoluments clause, where he and his family are enriching themselves, including with gifts from foreign powers.  Visiting officials stay at his hotels at exorbitant rates in order to curry favor, trade deals are made that are favorable to his and/or Ivanka's businesses, and he charges the government huge sums of money (secret service lodging, etc.,) every time he goes on one of his golfing weekends at one of his resorts.

There are the uses of the office designed to punish his "enemies," including removal of security clearances to those who might speak out against him and pursuing the post office to double Amazon's postal rates.  He has taken to Twiter countless times to bully and berate public figures, and most shamefully, private citizens.

He has proposed executive actions based on discrimination against religion (the Muslim Ban) and has sided with racists to the point of inciting violence.  It includes also ginning people up to come after the free press.  He does not respect civil rights, nor the constitutionally protected freedom of the press.  He may worship an inflated view of the Second Amendment, but he opposes the First Amendment with every word and action he takes.  He took an oath to uphold and defend the Constitution.  He's not doing that.

He has revealed classified information to foreign powers.  He ends or abrogates treaties.  He arrogantly tongue lashes our democratic allies while heaping praise on the world's worst dictators. His trade war has backfired spectacularly.

He has not hired the best people.  He's hired a motley group of incompetents and con artists, who seem to have only two purposes.  One is to aggrandize themselves, and the other is to destroy the agency they work for.

There is the Russia probe.  Not a lot can be said until the Mueller probe is complete.  It's clear that the Russians interfered with our election (and that they are interfering in 2018 and have every intention to in 2020).  It's clear that they did so to elect Donald Trump (Putin has said as much). The level of Trump's knowledge and involvement has yet to be fully determined.  What there is no mystery on is that Trump has been obstructing justice in this case, as openly and as publicly as anyone ever has.

I could go on and on.  But right now, none of these look like the first domino to start the cascade to the end of the Trump Presidency.  That appears to be a porn star and her lawyer.  I don't know what to say.  First Trump's fixer falls in the hush money case.  Then the National Enquirer publisher who has been hiding dirt on Trump for at least two decades, with a safe full of secrets, has been given immunity.  This is quickly followed by Trump's personal money man, his green eyeshade guy granted immunity as well.  His fixer, his press protector, his financial guy .... all now cooperating with authorities.  And what can Trump do?  Squeal about rats and flippers, like he was Jimmy Cagney in a mob movie.

The domino is tilting heavily, my friend.  And when it starts to fall, it should begin to take out the rest.

One by one.

They all fall down.









 

Enter 2018 OHC Writer's Guild Writing Contest!

Enter

Fifth Annual Okefenokee Heritage Writing Contest

Submission Deadline:  October 12th, 2018

Winners Announced:  November 4th, 2018

Four  Different Contests

Mid/High School:  Story:    max 1,000 words

                              Poem:  max 250  words

typewritten, double-spaced only

Adult:  Story:  max 2,000 words

           poem:  max 400 words

typewritten, double-spaced only

Submission Guidelines

Submit story or poem with the submission form, answering the personal information questions.  Please DO NOT put your name on the story itself.

Submission forms can be obtained at the Okefenokee Heritage Center or at other locations to be announced as the contest progresses.

Submission Limits

The limit per author on Mid/High School will be three total, story and poetry entries combined.  There is no limit to adult entries, but they will need to pay the $10 entry fee for each story entry, or $5 for each poetry entry.

Submission Locations

Please send submissions to the Okefenokee Heritage Center.  Some schools may have submissions gathered at a school location and then sent at one time.  If you are in school, please check with your teacher or with school administration.

Submission Fees

There are no fees for elementary and secondary submissions.  There is a $10 per story entry for adults, and $5 for each poetry entry, and it should be included with the story and submission form.

No Plagiarism

Original author entries only.  If a plagiarized entry is found, that writer and all their entries will be expelled from the contest, and they will be banned from participating in future years.  If you are a student, teachers and parents will be notified.

Prizes

There will be cash prizes for all contests. :

First prize:  Story $50 Poetry $25 (School)

                   Story $100 Poetry $50 (Adult) 

Second Prize:  Story $30 Poetry $15 (School)

                        Story $50 Poetry $25 (adult)

Third Prize:  Story $20 Poetry $10 (School)

                    Story $25 Poetry $10 (Adult)

Judging

There will be at least three judges at each level.  Each entry will be judged on a blind basis, only being identified by number and not by name.

Tallying and scoring should be completed by November 2d with winners to be presented November 4th.

Please send entries to:

Okefenokee Heritage Center

1460 N Augusta Ave

Waycross, GA  31503

Fifth Annual OHC Writer's Guild Submission Form

OHC 2018 Writer's Contest Submission Form

Okefenokee Heritage Center

Fifth Annual Writer's Contest

Submission Form

This form must be attached to all story and poetry submissions.

Name:  ___________________________________

Address: __________________________________

               __________________________________

               __________________________________

Contact:  __________________________________

    contact can be phone number, e-mail, or school

Please check which contest your entry is submitted for:

           

          Secondary:   Story _________        No Entry Fee

            (6th - 12th)             

                               Poetry ________         No Entry Fee

             

           Adult:          Story _________        Include $10 Entry Fee

                               Poetry ________        Include $5 Entry Fee    

Submission Deadline: October 12th

Winners Announced: November 4th

Original Entries Only – no plagiarism

Please submit this form return attached with your story/poem.  Please be sure you do not put your name on your story - only on the submission form.  Please deliver or send to:

Attention: OHC Writer's Contest

Okefenokee Heritage Center

1460 N Augusta Ave

Waycross, GA  31503

Didn't You Read the Memo?

There it is.  The most chilling five words in the business and bureaucratic world - Didn't you read the memo?

It doesn't matter whether you're in the private, public, or non-profit sector.  Those words said to an employee, can send shivers down their spine, as they quickly try to review in their mind what they've missed.  It could be a change in the dress code, a different office procedure, an adjustment in the software you use, even how you are supposed to address management, fellow employees, or customers.  You've missed something vital, and your supervisor is looking at you with a self-satisfied grin that gleefully says, "Gotcha!"

Some people are more attached to rules and procedures than others.  I'm currently preparing to be in the play. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, where Nurse Ratched controls a mental institution with a cold eye and a firm grasp of manipulating regulations to dominate the patients and staff.  Her desire to be in charge supersedes the needs and health of the patients.

Most of us are fortunate enough not to run across someone as dangerous as Nurse Ratched, but we've all probably had to deal with someone similar.  I know my conservative friends will rail against government bureaucrats, and my liberal friends will berate those who manipulate in large corporations and the business world.  But the truth is they can exist and thrive anywhere, no matter the structure.

Rules and regulations can be a valuable thing.  I'm glad somebody's inspecting the meats, for example.  Workplace safety rules can help protect us all.  It's when middle management uses those rules, both the ones that come down from others and ones they make up themselves, that they become dangerous.

With the advent of email, memos become even harder to track and ferret out.  I get an avalanche of email every day, and sometimes it's hard to search out what may be significant.  There are days where I don't even want to go through all that.  I'd rather concentrate on the work in front of me.  And, of course, that will be the day I hear the dreaded words. "Didn't you read the memo?"

Not all memos are deadly.  Some are just plain weird.  Like one from a manufacturing company I worked for a couple decades ago, with the "You Should be Committed" memo.  It stressed how you should be dedicated and loyal to your job, and come in every day and on time, and that availability to work the varying swing shifts was more important than your commitment to do things with your family.  The fantastic twist was at the end of the memo it indicated that although your complete loyalty was needed, the company still reserved the right to terminate your employment at any time for any reason. Commitment, it seems, was a one-way street.

Another classic was the "As you know, this year Thanksgiving falls on a Thursday" memo.  Yes, it really did say that, explaining that meant that everyone would be expected to come to work on the Friday following Thanksgiving. Yeah.  Uh, maybe you should just let us know when Thanksgiving doesn't fall on a Thursday.  Good luck with that!

There's not much we can do, except being alert that any of these crazy memos could come at any time, from anywhere.  And when you hear those dreaded words, try not to take it too personally.  Just shrug your shoulders, say "My bad," and try to move on with your day.

If you're not a bureaucratic personality, you're always going to be behind the eight ball.  Just grin and bear it, and be happy you're not the one who has to come up with the crazy memos.

Limbo Stick Lowering Wednesday Wanderings

Well, it looks like the limbo stick has lowered again.

Can you still fit under there, Trumpeteers?  What will be your excuse this time?  Whatever, it is, it may take me a while to find out.  You don't talk to me about it anymore.

In fact, the silence on this from the President and friends has been rather incredible.  As the negative news swirls around him, Fox News is busy saying, "SQUIRREL!!!"

But have no fear!  Someone, Hannity or his like, will eventually figure out talking points (or distraction points) and for those of you who have active Trumpeteers on your social media, you'll slowly get the memes and irrational discussion points that try to fight back.  They'll double down on attacking NFL athletes who act like this is a free country or something, or blame it on the fact that teachers can't lead indoctrinating prayer in school, or how everything is really the fault of Hillary and Obama.  How this is all Cohen's and Manafort's fault, that the President had nothing to do with their crimes.  According to Trump, one of the things he does best is pick the best people.  Yeah, maybe if he was in the mob he does.  Government service?  Eh, not so much.

----------------------------------------

Enough about politics!  Ok, that doesn't sound like me.  Well, enough for right this second, anyway.

My foot pain is held in check.  Going to the doctor Monday revealed no miracle cures.  It's just going to take time and a lot more Ibuprofen than I feel comfortable taking.  But it's enough to get me back to work, and to play practice, so it's gotta be what it's gotta be for a while.

Playing off rodeo, this is not my first footy-o. It happens every couple of years or so.  It just takes time. Hopefully, I'll be over it in a week or two.  At least for this time.

--------------------------------------

I'll repeat this elsewhere (trust me on that), but please note that if you purchase Crowley Stories as an ebook or paperback, and you get a chance to review it, please do so. The placement on different sites is dependent on sales and number of reviews.  History of the Trap has 8 reviews on Amazon, and I'm told it takes 10 reviews to get bumped up in placement.  So close and yet so far away!

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I'm trying to take my weight and blood pressure in the morning, and so far it's not pretty.  There may not be any dramatic changes until the summer audit is over, but I'm trying to get in the habit of doing it.  I'm also trying to walk a little in the morning, even though right now that is very painful.  I'm trying to scream too loud as I walk so as not to wake the neighbors.

-------------------------

I may have wandered enough.  Return to your regularly scheduled activities, and I'll try to have a more coherent message soon.

Senior Picture Monday Musings

There he is!  Super sophisticated man about town!

This is just one picture of dozens of Senior pictures that we will be considering.  Benjamin and Alison went to downtown Waycross for a special photo shoot on Thursday night.  The photographer is Janet Roberson of BluMoon Photography.  Many more great pictures to come!

He is sitting beside the side door of the Ritz, the downtown theatre where Waycross Area Community Theater performs its plays.  He's been in an about a half-dozen plays with them, including last season where we played the Costazuela Brothers in the female version of The Odd Couple, and later were part of The Addams Family.  Being able to act with Benjamin on stage is the highlight of my acting career.

Where was I?  At home, resting my damn foot.  The weekend for me was mostly a blur of pain.  For those tired of me fussing, I intend to call a doctor today.  I'm still not sure what he can do, but something has to happen.  I'm starting to lose my ability to even drive.  And I need to get to the audit location and practices this week.

This is about as much as I can write right now.  Starting to lose focus.  I'll let you know later if the doctor can help.

Until next time,

T. M. Strait

Eat Me Drink Me

John 6:51-58 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

52 The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” 53 So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55 for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58 This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

Eat me

Drink me

Not just something for Alice in Wonderland.

This is the lectionary Gospel reading for August 19, 2018.  Probably.  At least according to the online Episcopal Church Lectionary.

Thankfully, we don't literally eat the body and blood of the Son of Man.  We're not vampires or cannibals.  Even in the Gospel, at the Last Supper, Jesus is taking bread and wine and calling it his body and blood.   Various Christian sects determine this as either symbolic or, in some sense, transubstantiation, in which the essence of the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ. 

The Eucharist, this sharing of Christ's essence,  is an essential part of the Episcopal Church.  The concept of the open table, where all believers can participate, is a transforming, unifying, and spiritual experience.  It is my favorite part of our service, and when I feel closest to God.

Sharing his essence brings me closer to the Christian community, and it brings me closer to the spirit of Jesus.  He is within me and all about me.  He dwells within me, a spirit and faith I can connect with, aide me in times of need, draw strength from, and be at peace in quiet reflection.  It sends me out into the world for the next week, more open to be the hands and feet of Christ.  I want to contribute to my church and help build the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.

As John says, do you indeed live forever?  Unfortunately, no.  Not at least your physical body.  But you are part of Christ and the Christain community, a bright light that will shine forever, as long as there are those open to his spirit, willing to take the body and blood into themselves and give themselves over to his faith and love.

It is important to note that I am not a theologian or clergy. These are just some of my thoughts on the lectionary reading of the day.  They are not meant to be the official view of any group or denomination.  Heck, even I could look at it differently if I just turn the setting on the kaleidoscope.

It's Time to Visit Crowley!

You deserve a trip to someplace special!

Come away today to the town of Crowley, a quirky village right on the edge of the Okefenokee Swamp!

Living at the swamp's edge isn't always easy.  Nature isn't the only challenge.  There's also the people.  Sit and read a spell in the delightful, passionate kaleidoscope that is the town of Crowley and its residents.  You'll treat yourself to romance, mystery, drama, and even a whiff of the fantastical!

Meet Franny Goodkind, the young, kind-hearted waitress at the Honey Dew Cafe, where she witnesses a great cross-section of Crowley's who's who, including that Yankee CPA, Gariton Hollander.

Meet Sheriff Alan Steel, a decent man trying to cope with the craziness of Crowley's political and religious maze.  

Meet Kayak Kelly, the retired biology teacher, who explores the swamplands, and has found a magical blue drupe.

Meet Reggie Crowley, the richest man in the county, worried about handing his business down to his ne'er do well sons, Freddy and Digger.

You'll witness a unique crime-solving duo, a Yankee CPA and a Southern Sheriff, as they try to solve an insidious murder.

Developers plot the destruction of parts of the swamp.  The Ghost Squad searches for apparitions.  A farmer's daughter longs to take off in the Starship Enterprise.  A dance instructor dreams of an acting career.  A woman struggles to get away from an abusive husband.

Awake to Crowley today, and let the townfolk swing into your heart!

Available as an ebook everywhere (literally, everywhere)!  This includes Kindle, Nook, and Google Play.

Paperback currently available from the author, but as other sources become available, I will let you know.

The town of Crowley awaits you!

Blog Preservation Act of August 16, 2018

Nothing says artificially induced blog traffic like a picture of a sleeping Boss-A-Man!

Oh, how I wish I could focus on topics.  But my brain is fried from a busy schedule, and chronic foot pain that just doesn't seem to want to go away.  Yes, if it persists after the audit I'm working on concludes, I will see a doctor or something.  I wonder if there is Chinese acupuncture in our area?

I need to build book promotion around Crowley Stories: Swamp's Edge.  I have the paperback copies, but I haven't been able to do much with them yet.  Stay tuned!  I might have some time tomorrow to start the launch.

I also need to release more information about the 5th Annual Okefenokee Writer's Guild Writer's Contest.  It is a go, and I'm hoping for better student participation this year.  

Nothing much about politics this time.  Other than if you are still a Trump supporter at this point, it really reveals more about you than him.  

Our DVR is exploding.  Hopefully, we'll be able to catch up soon.  I do recommend the second season of The Sinner, and the HULU series Castle Rock, if you get a chance to catch them.

Atlanta United return Sunday.  We hope they come back guns blazing, because in this brief hiatus the darn New York teams have been catching up to them.  Josef Martinez, the ATL All-Star, is on the verge of shattering the MLS record for goals scored.  Alison and I were privileged to witness him tie the record for hat tricks (three goals in a game) when we saw them at Mercedes Stadium.

The only thing I don't like about the whole thing is that the stadium is named after a corporation.  I think that is stupid and vulgar when they do that.  But they normally don't ask my opinion.

Anyways, I'll try to get back to better themes soon.

Monday Musings from the Swamp's Edge

And so it begins!

The big Shill-a-thon for Crowley Stories: Swamp's Edge.  Be patient.  It looks like if there is shilling to be done, I'll have to do it.  But, when all is said and done, if you accidentally or on purpose get the book, I'll think you'll enjoy it.  And if you review it for one of the services (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads) that would be fantastic beyond measure.


I will be doing what I can, but the hard push probably won't begin until I complete the audit assignment at work that has me working more hours than usual. 

Then I am starting a new play, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest with Purlie Productions.  Beleive it or not, I don't play one of the crazy ones.  I don't play McMurphy (the Nicholson part) or Nurse Ratchett.   I am a doctor, and maybe also an aide.  This will chew up some time the next couple of months, but I don't have too many lines to learn, so that should help.

-----------------------------

Now that Benjamin is starting to drive, I am finding it harder than I expected to hold the line at two cars.  I didn't know he'd want to drive to school.  I don't know why that is a surprise to me.  We think we can arrange things to only need two cars, but we shall see.  Alison lives very close to her work, and may not always need a car.  I'll need a car less when my work schedule reduces next month.

--------------------------

I'm trying to decide whether to renew my subscription to Entertainment Weekly.  I'm a charter subscriber, having received every issue they've put out (they are currently on issue #1,524).  When I started, they were more statistics oriented, but each year they are becoming more and more like People Magazine, with more and more celebrity fluff pieces.  Much of the information that I used to look for in Entertainment Weekly I can now find online through the interWebs.

It's just hard to give up, something that has been a constant in your life through multiple decades.  It's not that expensive, and I do read it.  I just don't know how essential it is anymore.

-------------------------------------------

Well, that wasn't many topics.  Probably should start fixin' to think about gettin' around!

Be sure to take a trip to Crowley soon! (Sorry - gotta squeeze in one last shill!)

Get Yer Link to a Free Preview of Crowley Stories Right Here!!!!!!!!!

Flash Fiction Friday: Broken

The first time I needed it, it was there for me.  It did what I needed it to.  I was lucky to have it, and it may have saved my life.  It certainly ended Bob's, though.  That's for sure.

Yes, it was stupid to come out here.  Bob convinced me that one more hike through the mountain trails would revive our relationship.  I knew that it was over, but I thought I would give him this one last thing.  Maybe it would make it clear to him we were no longer a match.

All it did was trigger his rage.  And with no one to hold him check, I was at grave risk.

Bob had laughed at me bringing the umbrella.  The forecast revealed only a tiny chance of light rain, and he had packed rain jackets that he thought would serve us better.  I don't know what made me bring it.  It was underneath the car seat, and I instinctively grabbed it.  When he challenged me on taking it, it just made me more stubborn to keep it.

When we got to the Mighty Oak, he wanted to stop and talk.  I made my feelings clear.  He was now a good friend to me, nothing more. 

Bob did not like this.  Bob did not want to accept this.  He pleaded and cried, got down on his hands and knees.  When he started to pathetically sing our song (Rihanna's Umbrella), I lost it.  I began to howl with laughter.

This was a mistake.  Bob was infuriated.  He came at me with a look of uncontrollable rage.  He hit me, right across the face.  It split my lip open, not much, but enough to taste the blood.  He grabbed me and started pulling at my clothes, at the same time while tugging down his own pants.  I still clutched the umbrella behind me back,  and as his insistent hug intensified, I swung it around, hitting him on the head full force.

He backed up a second, looking at me puzzled, blood seeping across his forehead.  "You bitch!" he screamed and came at me again.  I hit him again, and he went down.  As he started to pull himself up, I stabbed him with the pointy end.

Now it was my own rage that was out of control.  I struck him and stabbed him until the light went out from his eyes.

I ran.  I ran until I came to the stream.  I sat on a large rock. 

The rains came.  It was a deluge.  My umbrella no longer worked.  It was twisted and torn, bloody and broken.  It did not matter.  As heavy as the rain was, I did not feel it.


Then I heard it.  The singing and splashing.  The song coming from near the stream.  Someone was splashing in the stream, warbling Singing in the Rain.  It was Andy.  He must have followed me.

Sometimes when you break up, it's because you realize you're no longer a match.  Or you need to move to a different stage of your life that doesn't include them.  Sometimes you just want to be with someone else.  For me, that someone was Andy.

Andy continued to sing.  He took me in his arms, and we danced in the rain.  He kissed me gently, and for a moment, I forgot what had just gone on before.

Andy noticed my umbrella.  "What the hell happened to your umbrella?  It's all smashed up, and..." his eyes opened in surprise, " is that blood?"

I sighed.  I had trouble coming up with an explanation.  The only thing I could think of was a bear, but before I could say anything, he asked, "Was that Bob's car down there?"  He looked around.  "Where is Bob?"

Poor Andy.

Now him, I was going to miss.

Grace Lee and the Celebration of 90!

I was honored to be able to attend Grace Lee's 90th birthday party last Saturday. There were well over 100 people, family and friends from all over.  It was truly a joyous celebration, with music and memories.

Her children spoke and were very eloquent.  Grace spoke and was very charming. 

Her daughter brought up how the Okefenokee Writer's Guild has been so important in her life the last few years.  She is a great writer and person, and it has been my honor to help her to meetings and be her friend.  The only other Writer's Guild member that was there was Julie Lacefield.  She has also been very supportive of Grace.

There were many pictures and scrapbooks on display, but also a vast plethora of her writings, including the story she did for the upcoming August meeting.

In speaking to us, Grace noted how she was surprised she made it to 90, but now that she had, she felt sure she would reach 100!  Given her strength of character, her loving family and friends, I have no doubt that she will!

The celebration reminded my of my own father's 90th birthday party. At that point, he was having good days and bad days, as far as being responsive to his environment.  It was a much smaller affair, that centered on close family members. Like Grace, my father was a very accomplished man, and a very kind and loving soul.  He passed fifteen months later.  I miss him every day.

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My blog output has slowed considerably.  I've been in a bit more time at work this month.  We've also had a close family member in the hospital, recovering nicely, but that is requiring time and attention that we gladly give.  Myself, I am subject to foot pains, and they have been pretty bad recently.  It makes it difficult to concentrate on anything for long.  It is also difficult to drive, but that is kind of unavoidable right now.


Hang in there with me.  I hope to be back on track very soon!