Grandmas Goulash

Moving

2011-01-06T02:31:00.000-06:00

Grandma's moving to a self-hosted Word Press blog.

Click here to check out the latest goulash.

Lovely, Dark and Deep

2011-01-05T11:54:00.001-06:00

Click on the image for a much larger picture and a bit of Frost.

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

Reason To Smile

2011-01-03T02:36:00.001-06:00

“Loosen rusty bolts, bake flaky pie crusts, make your hair shine.”

Before infomercials he hadn't sold a can a week. Now money rolled in.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Modern Conveniences

2010-12-13T12:39:00.008-06:00

Thank goodness she lived in modern times. This sure beat cleaning clothes in the stream and hanging them on branches.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Double Duty

2010-12-08T10:01:00.004-06:00

Don't remember what I was doing last week, but I missed the Three Word Wednesday challenge. I didn't discover this until I went to post today and realized that I had used last week's words. Hate to waste them, so here's two weeks worth.

A Different God

Who judges what’s right or wrong? Surely not the gracious deity, who had provided him with an early nightfall and escape from his pursuers. Relaxing in the safety of his hideout, the thief began to count the rewards of his exploit.

Slap

Right before my eyes,
it met an untimely demise.

No effort was made at revival.
Who cheers a mosquito's survival?

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are judge, nightfall and safety. Last week's were demise, effort and revival. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

Grave Matters

2010-12-06T00:01:00.002-06:00

Now do you believe me, Stan? We should have taken a cruise with that money you spent on perpetual care.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

And The Winner Is . . .

2010-11-30T23:37:00.004-06:00

Me!

And every other participant in the NaNoWriMo challenge. It's a great experience and has value that goes far beyond meeting the marker.

That said, I'm proud of completing the 50,000 word challenge and prouder still to have finished my first draft of Essentials today, racing another 20,000 words past the finish line.

Editing? I'll be starting that tomorrow. But tonight I'm savoring my success.

Chicken

2010-11-24T04:06:00.003-06:00

They shuffled back and forth, neither advancing nor retreating. Don’t attract attention and the danger will pass. Tom did not pander to this foolishness and fled the scene. Better to be called a chicken then to be served for tomorrow’s dinner.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are advance, pander and shuffle. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

On Your Mind

2010-11-23T23:36:00.002-06:00

I'm not sure what's on your mind, but I bet I know what's on his!

Winning The Battle

2010-11-22T15:25:00.001-06:00

I hadn't planned on writing today, but the lure was too strong. Just 1,005 away from the 50,000 word goal and the next chapter was begging to be written. So I tackled it and crossed the finish line with 1.448 words to spare.

Have I won the war as well? Not yet. I'm estimating another 20 to 30 thousand words before the first draft is completed. There's eight days left before NaNoWriMo draws to a close. Completion in that time frame is possible, but not my goal. I'm ready to slow the pace a bit and will happily settle for 5,000 words a week. Hopefully, I'll greet the New Year, with a completed first draft and still have found time to pursue other neglected interests. A bit of hopping is near the top of my list. I've missed visiting my blog world friends. So don't be surprised if you find me knocking at your door. Virtually, that is.

NaNoWriMo 51, 448 words and still writing.

Tranquility

2010-11-21T23:14:00.002-06:00

Need a bit of tranquility? Who doesn't? Come join me. Lean back. Smell the trees, feel the gentle breeze and hear the sounds of the cascading water. You deserve a break.

NaNoWriMo 48, 995 words. Taking a quick break and then back to write some more.

Forget Research

2010-11-20T23:41:00.013-06:00

"Then you discover you can't french kiss the guy who puts the new roll of toilet paper on top of the old used--up roll instead of moving it the extra two inches. What? Does he not see it? Does he not see it? I'm telling you, marriage is the Jack Kevorkian of romances."

Remember that line? In my latest Chapter of Essentials, three women have gotten together for a movie night. I wanted them to watch a movie that would generate a little good-natured male bashing. I thought that Rita Wilson's line from Forget Paris fit the bill perfectly.

Of course, I couldn't remember the line exactly. I don't want to confess how long it took me to locate it. Then I wondered when the movie became available on video. Couldn't find that, but the movie came out in 1995. Since my scene occurs in 1999, I figured it was reasonable for my characters to be watching a video rental. Is it okay to quote the line in my book or do I need some kind of permission?

NaNoWriMo is giving great advice when it tells us to squash our internal editors and let the words spill out. It was just one paragraph of the book. The exact movie and line was in no way critical to the story. I could have written another chapter in the time I spent researching this bit of trivia. Enough of that nonsense. I'm getting with the program.

NaNoWriMo 46, 422 words and still writing.
At least when I'm not distracted!

So Close

2010-11-19T22:55:00.001-06:00

Took a much needed day off from the novel, but I'm back at it again. I just love the graph that NaNoWriMo provides. Whenever I need a little motivation, I check it out. Seeing those bars soaring towards the top keeps me writing.

The Bad Old Days

2010-11-18T23:43:00.003-06:00

I'm still wiping tears from my eyes. Calico and I just finished watching Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice and they were tear-jerkers. We're a bit behind in our viewing, so they weren't this week's episodes. No problem, of course. Calico has scheduled our favorites to record and we watch them when we have the time. It's hard to remember what it was like before we could record everything.

Actually, I've been recording for a long while. I got hooked on the soap, All My Children, when I was working a night shift. When I switched to days, I wasn't ready to give it up. So I hitched the TV and the cassette recorder to a timer. When I got home, there was an audio tape of my soap waiting for me. Having watched the show for years, I had no problem identifying the actors' voices or picturing the scenes. I thought it was a pretty impressive setup. Pretty cheesy in retrospect. When it comes to technology, I'll take the good new days.

Addicted

2010-11-17T23:44:00.001-06:00

For most of you, this is just a little symbol of the season. But if you're an SPP'er, ya know what I'm talking about!

Can't Do Everything

2010-11-16T23:58:00.004-06:00

Who do I think I'm kidding? Grandma's finding it hard to do two things: write a novel and post to this blog. Two minutes to midnight and nothing to say. Except that the novel is going better than the blogging. I expect to cross the 40,000 word marker in the next couple of days. I want to say that guarantees my 50,000 word finish by the end of the month. But I'm not going to say anything. That's the type of statement that will cause illness, family catastrophes or the demise of my PC. Grandma's not that crazy!

NaNoWriMo 37,587 words and still writing.

Toasty

2010-11-15T21:06:00.001-06:00

We do our best to conserve on energy, particularly when it comes to heating our home. Living green is a prime motivator. So is saving green. Days are easy, we dress warmly and keep the temperature in the sixties. Bedtime is another story. Sleep does not come easily when you are cold. Add too many blankets and you'll just feel weighted down and confined. In the north, we always used electric blankets, dialing the amount of heat we needed. Didn't suppose those were used much in the south. Time to think again. Today Calico returned from the store with three of them. My granddaughter is quite excited. And so am I. I'm feeling toastier just thinking about it.

Break's Over

2010-11-14T22:54:00.001-06:00

I gave myself until tomorrow to resume writing. Didn't even last that long. An hour ago, I couldn't resist the urge and started pounding the keys again.

NaNoWriMo 33,399 words. Not counting this extensive post!

Take A Deep Breath

2010-11-13T19:46:00.001-06:00

Some days the writing flows smoothly. More often is varies between smooth and grinding. The last chapter? It just ground all the way. The material was plentiful, but I couldn't find the right words and it was pure drugery the whole way through. I'm happy that I've built a little breathing room into my word count, because I need a day off.

I'm not without plans for the evening, however. Grandma has a hot date.

NaNoWriMo 32,061 words and pausing to catch my breath.

Essentials Glimpse #2

2010-11-12T22:39:00.001-06:00

In the early days of their marriage, Elaine's husband shows her a home he would like to buy.

The kitchen was beyond appalling. The original linoleum still graced the floor, dull and peeling. Outdated appliances had aged to a grayish yellow. The countertops had lost their finish and dampness had eroded them into crumbling pasty slabs. Sagging cupboard doors provided the only color, painted by some demented artist in alternating patches of neon pink and green.

“Did you see the hardwood floors and the fireplace, Elaine? Look at the space in this kitchen.”

No amount of space could convince her to live in this dump.

Talk about a difference in perspectives!

NaNoWriMo 30, 231 words and still writing

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

No Time Left

2010-11-11T19:28:00.002-06:00

for writing.

I usually write for the NaNoWriMo challenge in the early hours of the morning. Our home isn't terribly noisy, but some days anything will distract me and the flow of words halt. So you can usually find me writing somewhere between 1am and 4am. Sometimes, I don't finish the daily quota of words. My eyes begin to blur and so does my mind. That happened this morning, leaving me about 500 words short of my goal. I got some sleep, arose around 11am and fortified by caffiene and breakfast, I decided to give it a try. Surely I could manage 500 more words.

I could. Then I wrote some more. When I finished it was after 5pm. I had long since tired of writing, but the words didn't want to stop. Over 3500 of them. The quality wasn't bad either. I've produced far worse when I've written far less.

The bottom line is that I've nothing left for the blog today. But I'll be back tomorrow.

NaNoWriMo 27, 906 words and still writing.

Autumn Beauty

2010-11-10T23:29:00.001-06:00

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

What I Know

2010-11-09T23:53:00.005-06:00

I've heard that the secret to writing is to write about what you know. That's always puzzled me. Do you have to be a murderer to write about murder? Has Stephen King experienced all the horrors that make his tales so riveting? It just didn't seem logical. Discouraging too. How much does one person know?

I'm pretty good at a couple of things, computer programming comes to mind. But I've been out of the field for five years now. Things change rapidly. Perhaps I could write a story about the olden days of computing. Maybe one novel, okay maybe a chapter in a novel, but it's not going to go much further. I have smaller skills too. I'm pretty good at baking bread, but I don't want to write a cookbook.

In the last week, I think I've come to understand the concept a bit better. NaNoWriMo gets the credit. I've got the general plot for my story, but each chapter could be described in two or three sentences. That won't land me anywhere near that 50,000 word target. So I've started to worry less about writing grammatically correct sentences and more about what my characters are seeing, thinking and feeling. I take a mental walk in their shoes and let the words flow onto paper ( er, screen). As I do, little pieces of myself find their way into the story. This character looks like my Uncle Fred. That one loves to play solitaire. I've experienced a good cup of coffee, bad hair days and moments of triumph. The list of things I know is endless. Now I only need to weave them into my stories.

19, 824 words and still writing.

Weather Or Not

2010-11-08T23:35:00.001-06:00

We just didn't deserve last weekend. Our summer had been brutal and we didn't see the last of 100 degree days until the end of September. October had a plethora of ninety degree ones. How can it be possible that less than a month later we were facing a freeze? Not to mention a furnace that refused to produce.

The temperature reached the low seventies today and there was no need for a space heater. That's more what I had in mind. Let's hope it lasts until the furnace repair folks return our call.

It's Beginning To Look

2010-11-07T22:41:00.004-06:00

a lot like Christmas?

I don't like rushing things. Over the years, the commercialized side of Christmas has done just that. When I was younger, the Christmas themes arrived at the stores on the day after Thanksgiving. Eventually, they got more aggressive. Turkeys and mistletoe sat side by side. Soon they started showing up with the witches and ghosts. I don't go to the stores much now. Just as well, I fear I'd find them sitting next to the Independence Day decorations.

So I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I spent a good part of today perusing Christmas clip-art. Sure, I had my reasons. I'm preparing a tutorial for the Christmas edition of my graphic group's newsletter. At the beginning, it felt strange. The strangeness began to recede. As the day wore on, the Christmas spirit began to prevail. Although I had gathered enough material, I couldn't seem to stop. I'll just look at one more image or perhaps one more page. Wait, make that one more site. Only the hour and the need to post halted my Yuletide insanity.

Fear not. I will not post any Christmas pics today. I can't promise more than that. But perhaps I could convince Calico to decorate our tree.

Ho Ho Ho!

In the Nick of Time

2010-11-06T23:54:00.007-05:00

I decided from the start, that once a week, I would take a break from writing my novel. That means that I have to do a higher word count each day, of course, but a day off each week makes it worthwhile. I was more than ready today and throughly enjoyed my break.

I hadn't intended to take a blogging break. I did that all summer and I'm trying to get back in the swing of things. Suddenly, it's 11:54PM and I realize I haven't posted. I mentioned it to Calico, who gasped and ran to her blog.

Calico has an excuse. We woke up to a cold house this am, the pilot light on the furnace won't stay lit. She researched and replaced the most likely part. No luck. She researched some more. Next possibility is the gas valve, something that will require professional services. She blocked a couple doorways with sheets and started the space heater in our main room. Things warmed up and we'll be fine until we can call someone on Monday. Calico continued her day, completing coursework for her business and accounting classes and fixing dinner. She's been busy.

And what's Grandma done? Played with virtual pets, took a nap, ate and ... Hmmm. Guess that's it. At least I'm good at relaxing!

Essentials Glimpse #1

2010-11-05T22:00:00.003-05:00

Only a few pinholes of light relieved the blackness of the woodshed. It wasn’t very big and his hiding spot was even smaller. An ant crawled up his arm and he shivered as he flicked it off. He hated bugs and the shed had plenty of them. At least it wasn’t a spider. Those were so creepy and three had landed on him the last time he’d hidden here. Still it was a good spot. Pa had looked for him here more than once. Opening the door and bellowing his name. He stayed quiet, just like Mama said. He tensed as the door creaked open. He heard the labored breathing as Pa stood for a minute, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. But all that was visible was the poorly stacked wood and a few tools hanging on the wall.

“Damned woman can’t even stack wood right.”

He slammed the battered door and the shed shook. Small pieces of dirt and chips rained onto his head, but James remained crouched in the small space behind the stack. Mama had made the hiding spot just for him and showed him how to add a few pieces to fill the small opening. He was safe there.

NaNoWriMo 12,139 words and still writing.

I Did It Their Way

2010-11-04T22:57:00.005-05:00

So I finished the sixth chapter of Essentials around 4am. It wasn't until I stopped that I noticed the tears trickling down my cheeks. I've had stories move me to tears before, but never one of my own. Usually I'm too busy thinking about what comes next or what needs to be changed to experience any emotion from my writing. Perhaps I was just tired. Still I wondered. So later in the day I asked Calico to read it. Same effect.

Part of the NaNoWriMo writing process irritates me. I like to correct errors as I see them. It's hard to stop reviewing and editing. Previous chapters linger in my mind, whispering seductively. "Come back, I'll change for you." It's a struggle to resist.

Still the process has it's advantages. Thoughts flow and details I've never considered find their way into the writing. And then there is Chapter 6. Perhaps I'll stick with NaNoWriMo a bit longer.

9,416 words and still writing.

NaNoWriMoStats #1

2010-11-03T22:40:00.005-05:00

2010-11-02T23:00:00.002-05:00

Essentials - Chapter 1

“How can she afford a home?”
“You saw her home. “
“The van? My God. That can’t be. How can four people live in a van?”

When I heard the word homeless, I always pictured bag ladies and disheveled individuals huddled in cardboard boxes. Street people. Not all of the homeless are in the streets, however. They can be found seeking shelter in vehicles, boats, storage units, colleges and abandoned buildings. They range in age from infants to senior senior citizens. They are found in cities, suburbs and rural areas.

Homelessness is a key topic in my new novel. I'll be blogging more about it this month as I face the NaNoWriMo challenge.

What's In A Name

2010-11-01T16:40:00.005-05:00

NaNoWriMo has begun.

The clock had barely moved past midnight when I started writing. By 4AM, I had spewed 2845 words into my word processing software. That's substantially more than the daily target. I’m hoping to get a couple days of leisure somewhere in the month or a little wiggle room when the creative impulse gets blocked.

Speaking of wiggly, Chapter 1 begins with a wiggly puppy. Is Grandma writing a 50,000 word children's book? I assure you, that's not the case.

Essentials contains subject matter that has no place in children's literature. No, not the racy stuff. I'm talking about hatred and intolerance. A character filled with these emotions would not use politically correct terms to describe those whose race, social status, religious beliefs or sexual orientation differ from his own. I need to use the terms that he would use. Those words offend me. I cringe as I put them on paper. I understand the difference between the author and the story. When reading a novel, it's never been a problem. It seems different when I do it.

The words will stay. But I'm still cringing.

The Rebel

2010-10-25T11:42:00.001-05:00

Mel Gibson in Braveheart screaming his final word, "Freeeeedom". Now that's a rebel.

Grandma? Surely you've got to be kidding. When it comes to avoiding conflict, I've got professional status. Over the years, however, I've frequently heard that term applied to me. Usually when I'm just doing something the way I want to. That's what happened yesterday.

November is a week away and I've pledged to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Some folks begin on November 1st with just an idea, others have prepared an outline and done some research. But the goal of the NaNoWriMo challenge is to write the 50,000 words in November.

I'd come up with some ideas, done a bit of research and produced a sketchy outline, which has already been substantially edited in my head. Could I actually write a novel in a month? That nasty troublemaker, Doubt, crept to the front of my mind, rudely shoving novel thoughts out of the way. That's almost 1700 words a day, longer than any chapter in Convictions, which usually required three or four days of writing effort. NaNoWriMo is not about finished work. It takes a "quantity over quality" approach. Turn off the internal editor and write. Even so, that's a lot of words. Were there enough hours in the day to do this?

Late last night, I decided to find out. With the rest of the house in bed, I sat down and began to type the prelude to my novel. Two hours later, it was completed and a bit over 1700 words. Doubt lingers but has been relegated to a dimly lit storage room. Once again I'm focused on what need to be done to prepare for the month.

Yes, the writing is not supposed to start until the 1st. Cheating? No, I'd prefer to think of myself as a rebel.

Refrigerators and Convictions

2010-10-21T13:53:00.016-05:00

Throw out 90% of the refrigerator's contents? Insane? Not if you saw the contents. On Saturday, Calico will be bringing home lots of edible food. But it won't last long, if we can't refrigerate it. So today we bit the moldy bullet and tackled the job of cleaning our refrigerator.

Psychiatrists lay the blame for many of our problems at our parents' feet. The condition of our refrigerator is my mother's fault. Perhaps it was growing up in the Great Depression, but she couldn't bear to throw away edible food. Half a green bean left after dinner? Put it in a plastic container and wait three months. It will be much easier to discard when it's covered in an inch of mold. No wonder she dreaded cleaning the refrigerator. When she finally did, she enjoyed the results and swore she'd never let it deteriorate again. But a few months later, it would once again be filled with containers more fit for antibiotic research than human consumption.

I knew that I would do better when I had my own home. To some extent, I did. I was never guilty of trying to preserve atomic-sized food remnants. But if there's enough for a single serving, I rationalize that it could be incorporated into another meal or used for any easy-fix lunch. That does happen, but not often. I am NOT my mother, Then why do I hear myself saying, "From now on I'm going to clean this regularly."?

13 things we removed from our refrigerator today.

Five containers of sour cream. Each holding about a teaspoonful. If you count the mold
A huge container of beef stew. It was a wonderful stew and could have made another meal. I think that was the plan, but it got lost in the depths.
Most of a chocolate Christmas penguin. I'm not sure if my granddaughter ever tasted it. But it was so bad that even chocolate addicts like Calico and Grandma hated it - even when it was fresh.
Four maraschino cherry containers with a little liquid in each. Not a cherry in sight.
A hardened lemon.
A hardened lime.
Dozens of crispy little pieces that had fallen out of something with a Mexican scent. Thought they must be taco chips, but they turned out to be petrified burrito.
A vegetable crisper that was almost full... of soggy veggies.
An almost full container of Cool Whip that had gone bad. If you're not familiar with the stuff, let me assure you that this takes a LOT of aging.
Several wrapped dinner plates that my granddaughter had half eaten. She's always asking to have something saved. And the sins of the parents (and grandparents) are visited on the children.
A pork chop. I think. Not brave enough to search below the blue covering.
The newest formulation for super glue. We really should have it analyzed. A chisel and several power tools were required to remove it from one shelf. And it had securely bonded two rather hefty containers.
Taco meat. Several small containers of it. One of them was less than a week old. But we couldn't figure out which one. Safety ruled and we threw them all.

I've already reached 13? But I'm only on the first shelf.

I know. Today I was going to talk about the future of Convictions, my first attempt at a novel. It's not dead, but it is being postponed until next spring. Hopefully, it will not be covered in mold, when I take it out of cold storage.

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A Glimpse of the Future

2010-10-20T12:49:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, our dog was exonerated of any wrong doing in the absence of posts from my blog. Today, we're looking straight ahead. Really straight. No looking back at previous posts. No participation in favorite memes. No work on Convictions.

National Novel Writing Month is just a couple weeks away. My daughter, a participant in previous years, is already brainstorming her next novel. I've decided to join her at this event with the hopes of writing a rough draft of a new novel, Essentials. Check out the link and consider joining us in this challenge.

The rest of October will be devoted to a rough outline of my new story and a little research. I'll share some of that next week.

Am I dumping poor Beth? Leaving her at Redemption House, forever at the mercy of the evil Pastor Bob? Check back tomorrow to find out.

The Dog Ate My Posts

2010-10-19T10:39:00.001-05:00

Why haven't I been posting? Didn't the title tell it all?

Okay. There's probably more to the story. Or maybe less. But it's not nice to blame our sweet border collie, who has no interest in virtual meals. Let me try again.

My health isn't the best to begin with and hot weather makes it worse. 2010 was the hottest summer of my life with temps over 100 for many weeks and a heat index that climbed into the 120's. Cooler inside, of course, but still approaching 90 degrees on many days. It was a rare day when I felt sharp enough to get my thoughts together and write something.

I'm a creature of habit. I had posted every day since starting the blog. I know myself. If I miss one day, another will follow. Soon there will be blogless weeks and months. And there were.

Blogging is like housekeeping. Do a bit each day and it's not that hard. Skip a few weeks and you're buried in chaos, unsure what to tackle first. Half of October has been spent trying to sort that out. The blogging at least, the house is still pretty chaotic.

So what's been sorted out? Tune in tomorrow and I'll tell you.

A Bit of Egg

2010-10-18T11:15:00.001-05:00

What? You say there's egg on my face? Where have I been? What have I been doing? What's happened to Convictions?

Patience my friends. I have answers for all of these questions. Check back tomorrow to learn more.

test

2010-07-21T04:47:00.002-05:00

Back In Business

2010-06-21T11:08:00.006-05:00

By yesterday, the entire family was suffering from a severe case of computer withdrawal. Sweltering temperatures have kept us out of our office for over a week now. Each day we check the weather forecast, but our hopes are quickly dashed. With no end in sight, Calico made the decision and moved three of our computers out of the office, dispersing them to cooler areas of the house. Today I'm sitting in my cool bedroom, happily perched at my PC. Who cares about the weather?

Today and tomorrow will be devoted to completing an overdue graphics tutorial. On Wednesday, I'll be back to blogging on a regular basis. See you then.

Cold Goulash?

2010-06-15T10:54:00.001-05:00

The goulash has not been stirred for a few days due to illness. But cold? Hardly. Temperatures here have peaked near 105F for the past 3 days. The AC can't even begin to keep up with it. So we've been retreating to our bedrooms, the coolest part of the house, with cold drinks and good books. The kitchen goes unused except to turn out salads and smoothies. The office with 5 PC's is a great place to be, if you're in the mood for a sauna. There's been rumors that the heat will break, but at 10am, it's already in the 90's. Promises of rain too. Hopefully, they will become a reality soon and life will get back to normal.

Convictions? Yes, it will be back soon. Maybe a new installment next weekend, if the weather cooperates.

Stay cool.

A Touch Of Class

2010-05-31T12:43:00.004-05:00

If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times.
Classy dragons don't neglect their pedicures.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #18

2010-05-29T22:53:00.002-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

“I'm sorry.”

Judith and Beth laughed at their synchronous apologies and shared a hug.

“I was out of line, Beth. It's not my place to judge what you do.”

“But you were right. I've lived in fear for far too long and it's going to stop. I want to go to parole after work today. Can you handle things until I get back?”

“Of course.”

The morning service started. Conversation stopped as they began their breakfast preparations. Time passed quickly. Soon the meal had been served and eaten. The usual camaraderie was missing from their cleanup. Margaret stood in her corner issuing complaints and insisting that Judith re-clean a sparkling counter. When she finally left, they breathed a sigh of relief.

“Go get ready for work, Beth. There's not much left to do and I can handle it.”

“Thanks, Judith.”

Bethany took a quick shower and started to dress. The sight of Cassandra's gifts brought new tears to her eyes. She quickly gained control and focused on her job. In a few minutes, she was ready. She returned to the kitchen and said goodbye to Judith.

Cal was at the main door watching for her.

“Come on, Beth. I'll take you to the office. Even though you're not a Pinnacle employee, there's still a little paperwork. Then you'll be joining some other new hires for a tour of the store. I'll meet you for a quick break before you get started on your new job.”

Although Beth was quite familiar with the store, she enjoyed learning about the work that kept it running smoothly. Behind-the-scene tours of the bakery, deli, and dairy sections introduced areas she hadn't seen before. Cal met her at the conclusion and they hurried to the coffee shop.

“It's okay for me to leave the store during work hours?”

“Yes. You'll get a fifteen minute break each day. Besides, you're with me. Since I'm one of your managers, you can take this time without worrying."

"Speaking of worrying, what's wrong Beth?”

Beth gave him the quick version.

“Don't make any waves, Beth. I know how much you care for Cassandra. I like her too. She's a kind and genuine person. But there's nothing you can do to help her. Please take care of yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you. Promise me that you won't go to parole or confront Pastor Bob.”

“We've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes, Cal. Let's get back to the store. Even though I won't get in trouble, I'd still like a chance to learn about my job.”

Cal paid the bill and they returned to the store without talking. Beth felt the weight of his disapproval. Still she would not be swayed from her decision. She hoped he would understand.

Cal led her to the bakery and maintained a professional demeanor as he introduced Beth to Diana, a 2 year veteran of the sample distribution position.

"Diana will train you, Beth. She's taught many of our distributors. I know you'll learn a lot from her, so I'm leaving you in good hands."

Their eyes followed him as he left.

“There's a bit of a learning curve, Beth, but this position can be fun. You get to meet a lot of people. Including some cute single guys.”

Diana gave a nod in Cal's direction.

“And not all of them are customers. Isn't he a hunk?”

Beth gave a noncommittal smile, but refrained from commenting.

“Will I work in one area of the store or do distributors rotate positions?”

“We rotate. You'll work in the bakery for a few days, since it's one of the easier positions. Once you're comfortable, I'll introduce you to other areas.”

Diana stayed with her as they distributed samples, giving occasional tips. Soon it was time to go. Beth didn't see Cal and didn't look for him. She didn't want to argue with him and she wasn't going to change her mind. She left the store and headed to the parole office.

“Hi Beth. Parole isn't usually this popular. This is the third time I've seen you in a week.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Something that wouldn't wait until tomorrow? This sounds serious.”

She listened as Beth explained her suspicions about Cassandra's setup by Pastor Bob.

“You are a good friend, Beth. I admire your courage in coming to me with this information. Now I'm hoping you will listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you.”

“I am not allowed to divulge information about the staff of Redemption House or any other parole residence facility. Neither am I permitted to discuss other parolees. Is that clear?”

Beth stood and prepared to leave. Obviously, this wasn't going to help.

“Don't go, Beth.”

“I can tell you that it is parole's policy to think carefully before removing a halfway house from our list of approved residences. As you know, many halfway homes don't accept parolees with violent crimes. We are willing to make exceptions for houses that do. We may choose to disregard policies and practices that might otherwise disqualify them. This is done to benefit parolees like yourself.”

“But he “

“We are also likely to give less credence to claims made by the staff of such houses. While action may be required, we do not casually revoke a parolee's freedom. For example, if a person has been paroled for over a year without incident and has no history of a drug crime, we would question a claim of drug possession. If we felt that such a claim was fraudulent, we would look for alternative placement.”

“Alternate placement?”

“Approval for their own residence when appropriate. Placement in another halfway house or shelter. Each case is different. I'm just sharing our general guidelines.”

Her words began to sink in.

“So Cassandra wasn't sent back to prison?”

Jane Watkins smiled and shook her head.

“As I mentioned before, I can't provide information about another parolee.”

“I understand. Thanks for the information, Officer Watkins.”

“You're welcome, Beth. No need to come and see me tomorrow. I think we can count this as your visit for the week.”

As she left the office, Beth felt both relieved and frustrated. Perhaps Cassandra hadn't been returned to prison. But where was she?

Want to read more? Check back next weekend for the next installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

The Good Old Days

2010-05-26T15:39:00.005-05:00

When had the change occurred?

Sheila couldn't really say. It was more a gradual shift, than a precise moment. Subtle changes in his behavior. A little less attentive. A little less willing to please. Finally, outright defiance of her wishes. Still, she'd never dreamed it would come to this. One moment he was dicing vegetables. The next, he was pursuing her with the knife. She struggles, but soon abandons hope. As she succumbs to the psycho robot, she wistfully remembers simpler days and the harmless blue screen of death.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are gradual, precise and abandon. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

Afterlife

2010-05-24T03:30:00.002-05:00

Brother Vincent fell apart, but the others remained stoic. “Unto dust thou shalt return.” They'd never guessed it meant collecting dust.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Never On A Sunday

2010-05-23T17:52:00.001-05:00

Not this Sunday at any rate, but hopefully by Monday evening, I'll post the next installment of Convictions.

Life has been hectic here. The aftermath of flooding was an influx of insects, particularly ants. Had to leave the house yesterday while they were being fumigated. The good news is that we saw "How To Train Your Dragon" while we were out. And that there is no sign of the nasty little critters today. Good thing, because the temperature just reached 100F and there's plenty of humidity to enhance that sweltering feeling. Sufficient misery without adding the ants. My granddaughter added to the day by falling and cutting her thumb. It bled. Profusely. Finally got it stopped. The excitement never ends!

My blog is up at the new domain, but I'm still repairing some links and dealing with some other idiosyncrasies.

So there's my excuses. Hope you'll return tomorrow.

Bump In The Night

2010-05-19T15:27:00.003-05:00

A bit of microfiction for this week's 3WW. A bit of a cheat as well. Used pacified instead of pacify. Hope it doesn't get me evicted!

Awaken with dread. A dream. It's substance quickly slips my grasp. Relax. Visualize. Fears pacified.

Maniacal laughter fills my room.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are dread, grasp and pacify. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

The Facts of

2010-05-18T15:55:00.003-05:00

Water bathes? Pressure cooking? Sue had been so proud of her canning. Why hadn't mother explained the facts of botulism?

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #17

2010-05-15T23:58:00.015-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

“Cassandra is no longer with us.”

Questions sprang to Beth's lips, but Margaret continued without a pause.

“It's obvious her supervision was poor. It's time for dinner and nothing is prepared. Are you concerned? No. You stand there dressed like a hussy with no thoughts of your responsibilities. Things are going to change. Immediately. Dinner will be served after the service or there will be consequences. A suitable dinner. None of your peanut butter sandwiches.”

She turned and left the kitchen. Seconds later, the sounds of the evening service began.

For a moment, Beth stood stunned. Then she spun into action. She had never served peanut butter sandwiches and had no intent to begin now.

“Judith. We need to talk later. Please prepare a salad.”

No time to change her clothes. Beth removed the shawl and covered her clothes with a large white apron. She saw that Judith hadn't moved and grabbed her shoulders.

“Judith! Now!”

Judith rose and moved listlessly towards the refrigerator. Obviously Beth could not rely on her for much else. She thought quickly and moved into action. Thank goodness for the freezer. She quickly removed apple pies, beef tips and dinner rolls. She started cooking rice. Hopefully, there would be sufficient time for it to cook. Forty minutes later the beef tips were hot and the apple pies and rolls had been removed from the oven. Judith had finally produced a salad. Only the rice remained. Beth heard the final hymn and began to despair. All that remained to the service was Pastor Bob's closing prayer. The rice needed five more minutes and there was no way to speed that. The hymn ended.

“Lord, we ask your saving powers for Cassandra, who fell from your way. We know that she must pay the wages of her sin. Do not spare your wrath, but use it to direct her back to the path of righteousness. May she serve as an example to other sinners, who are tempted to stray from the fold.”

His tirade continued for nearly ten minutes. Before it reached it's conclusion, the rice was ready.

Beth had no appetite for dinner. Lord's Servant Margaret glared at her from across the room, obviously disappointed that Beth had met the deadline. Finally the meal was over. Pastor Bob approached her as she rose to leave.

“You've heard that we've lost Cassandra?”

She nodded.

“I'm afraid this will mean more work for you. But this cannot be helped. She must reap the consequences of her actions.”

He paused a moment and gave Beth an intent look.

“It's good for all of us to remember that there are consequences for our actions.”

He left without saying more. Beth hurried back to the kitchen, anxious to talk with Judith. Conversation proved impossible. Margaret stood in one corner occasionally breaking the silence with a criticism of their work. When the dishes had been washed, Margaret instructed the others to leave.

“She can finish cleaning. She's done very little today.”

To Beth's relief, Margaret left as well. She was just starting preparations for the next day, when Judith tiptoed back into the kitchen.

“Pastor Bob planted those drugs, Beth.”

“What drugs?”

“He did a room search and found found a small stash of marijuana under Cassandra's mattress.”

“Cassandra doesn't do drugs.”

“Of course not. But it's an easy way to create a parole violation.”

“Why would he do that?”

Judith was suddenly quiet.

“Judith, tell me. I can see that you know.”

“Cassandra said not to tell you. She didn't want you to worry. Guess that doesn't matter now. Did you know that his phone has access to all of the house's phone lines?

“I assumed he did. There are several line buttons on his phone.”

“Cassandra was sure that he listened to her conversation. The one she had with the temp agency. She said it was worth going back to prison, if you got the job. She just hoped he didn't hurt you as well. Guess he didn't want to mess with good meals.”

Beth sat in stunned silence.

“What are we going to do, Beth?”

Beth knew the answer to that.

“There's nothing we can do, Judith.”

“We could go to parole.”

“Like they would take our word over his? Be real, Judith. We'd accomplish nothing. Except earn Pastor Bob's wrath. And we've seen what that got Cassandra.”

“I can't believe you're saying this, Beth. Your friend risks her freedom and you are going to do nothing.”

Beth felt her eyes dampen, but quickly controlled her emotions.

“Cassandra sacrificed her freedom to get me a job, Judith. I won't repay her by causing trouble and returning to prison. Cassandra always expected to go back. I'm not happy that it's because of me. But in a few months, she'll be out again. It took me five years to get parole approval. Redemption House was the only halfway house willing to accept me. If I go back, I'll spend the next ten years in prison. I won't do anything to jeopardize my freedom.”

“Freedom? You call this freedom? All I see is someone imprisoned by her fears. You might as well live behind bars.”

Judith left. Beth resumed her work, but Judith's words kept replaying in her mind. No, she wasn't free. But Redemption House was her road to freedom. One day she'd be able to speak her mind. To defend the people that she cared for. Or would she? Did fear become a way of life? Would there always be a reason to stay below the radar? She pushed back the thoughts. She needed to focus on the future.

Her job began tomorrow. She needed to be alert and ready to do her best. Suddenly she remembered that she was wearing her only pair of black pants. Despite the oversized apron, her pants had been spattered by food. The laundry room was already closed. She would have to do her best to make them presentable.

She removed the apron and headed towards her bedroom. She turned on the light, looked at her bed and felt tears well in her eyes. There were the pants from the consignment shop. Next to them were two new tailored white shirts. And a note.

Congrats on your new job. This is just the beginning. I know you'll go far.

Tears overflowed. She sank to the bed and sobbed. When she finally stood, she hung the new clothes in the closet and got ready for bed. Sleep did not come quickly. Judith was right. She could not let her friend disappear without a word of protest.

Tomorrow, she started a new job. Tomorrow, she would find a way to help Cassandra. Tomorrow, she would stop living in fear.

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for the next installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Where's Grandma?

2010-05-14T15:39:00.003-05:00

I don't see Grandma anymore, Harry.

Where did she say she was going?

Grandma's Goulash just acquired it's own domain name. It will be keeping the Blogger format, but will no longer be located at a blogspot.com url. There really shouldn't be any difference for readers. Once implemented, you will be forwarded to the new url if you come to this one.

Of course, nothing is ever simple. At the moment, Calico and I are struggling to implement this with my test blog and the results are less than successful. Yeah, it's just not working. I'm sure we'll figure things out eventually. I won't try to transfer this blog until the test blog relocates successfully. Hopefully it will be smooth, but if I'm not available for a bit, please don't panic. My posts here will be infrequent while we're working on it. Apologies in advance to my Convictions readers. I'll do my best to make it up to you when I return.

Red Alert

2010-05-12T12:18:00.006-05:00

The moment is at hand. Although she is not the first to travel here, it doesn't lessen the fear. She takes a step, gathers her courage and looks down. She cannot ignore the message, screaming in glaring red numbers from her scale. Oh to live in a weightless world.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are ignore, fear and weightless. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

Standout

2010-05-10T09:18:00.004-05:00

You'll never find your contact in this grass. We're going back to the convention. I'm not giving up my chance for the Best Dressed award.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #16

2010-05-09T15:41:00.004-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

“It's okay to use a fork.”

Cal smiled at Beth's chagrined face, then adeptly used his chopsticks to eat the shrimp fried rice.

“It takes a bit of practice. Next time I'll order Mu Shu pork.”

“Why?”

“Mu Shu's served with Chinese pancakes. A lot easier than rice when you're learning to use chopsticks.”

“That's a good idea.”

"It's my mother's. I wanted to learn when I was young, but got quickly frustrated. And hungry. So she started serving pancakes for breakfast. Each day she'd cut them into smaller pieces and hand me a pair of chopsticks. It made learning easy and fun."

Beth barely remembered her mother's face, but the memories of Amanda Hollister's indifference were still vivid.

“She must have been a wonderful mother.”

“Still is. Better than I deserve. I disappointed her, but she's never stopped supporting me. In prison, she was my only visitor. She even convinced Gloria to let me see the children again.”

“How old are they?”

“Jed is eleven and Tracy is nine. Gloria obtained a divorce and full custody of the children after I was convicted. Tracy was only two years old. She wouldn't let me see them after I was released.”

“That doesn't seem fair, Cal.”

“I can't blame her. I began selling drugs for extra cash. My career had good prospects. But I was just starting and money was tight. Gloria learned about it and begged me to stop. I swore that I would. She believed me and I betrayed that trust. So why would she believe me after my release? She was trying to protect our children.”

“But you see them now?”

“Yes. Gloria always let the kids visit their grandmother. Eventually, she let me visit them there for a couple hours a week. My mother promised that we would not leave the house and that she would not leave me alone with the children. I was happy to see them on any terms. And my mother's presence really helped. They knew her. Tracy had no memory of me and Jed's were faint. It took time to rebuild. It was almost three years before Gloria let me have time alone with them. Now they stay with me on alternate weekends and we took a vacation together last summer.”

“It sounds as if you've regained her trust. Have you considered a reconciliation?”

“No, she's got a new life now and I'm not a part of it. I'm just grateful for the relationship with my children.”

He paused a moment.

“I can't believe we're talking about this, Beth. It's certainly not first date material. Next you'll be telling me about your old boyfriends. You were too young to be married, right?”

“Right. Although I was engaged for a while. Don't worry about old boyfriend tales, the list was pretty short.”

The conversation lightened and they enjoyed the rest of their meal, lingering over another cup of tea and fortune cookies.

“Your wealth will be vaster than the stars.”, Cal read. “What does yours say. Beth?”

“Fortunes are like birthday wishes, Cal. They don't come true if you reveal them.”

“In that case, I've just ruined my chance to be rich. Care to go for a walk with a pauper?”

They left the restaurant laughing. The sun was bright, but the air was crisp. She mentally thanked Cassandra for loaning a black fringed shawl. They continued to chat and stopped occasionally to admire merchandise in the small storefronts. Her enjoyment was tempered by aching feet. The slingbacks were gorgeous, but not intended for long walks. She said nothing, hating to end the moment. Soon the ache turned to pain and Cal became aware of her plight.

“Beth, I'm so sorry. I should have realized. Let's head back to the car.”

They started back. She struggled not to wince at each step.

“Stop, Beth.”

He turned and lifted her into his arms.

“No, Cal. I can walk.”

“No sense in blistering your feet, Beth. Just relax.”

Relax? How? She felt the strength of his arms and the warmth of his body. The clean scent of soap mingled with that subtle male muskiness. She sensed more than saw the scrutiny of his dark eyes. Imagined the feel of those sensuous lips. Emotions restrained during years of incarceration began to break free. The intensity sent shivers up her spine.

“Cold, Beth?”

She didn't trust her voice. Then realized there was no need to speak. He knew.

He stopped and bent his head. His lips brushed lightly across hers. Then returned. Firmer. Testing. Tasting. The world receded.

A car horn returned them to the present. Cal resumed walking. Beth searched for words but found none. In a few minutes they reached his car. Cal started to drive. Finally he broke the silence.

“I'm sorry for my impetuousness, Beth. This is our first date, but I've been wanting to do that for two months. I promise to behave. I'm not ready for this date to end.”

“Neither am I. Although you're going to get tired of carrying me.”

They laughed and the tension eased.

“Take those shoes off, Beth. I've got an idea.”

She sighed in relief and wiggled her toes.

“I fear that a career as a fashion model is out of the question.”

He gave her a look that said otherwise. Tension returned. Beth grew quiet and gazed out her window. Soon Cal turned into a shopping plaza and parked the car.

“I'll be back in a few minutes.”

She was content to stay. Cal had been gone for a couple minutes before she realized that one of the slingbacks was missing.

“Try these. I hope you like them.”

Cal returned the missing slingback and handed her a shoebox. Inside were a pair of black leather loafers.

“Try them on. I want to be sure that they don't hurt your feet.”

The look of pure bliss on her face assured him that they didn't.

“They're wonderful, Cal. So soft. But I really shouldn't accept them.”

“Only candy or flowers? I know it's not proper and it certainly isn't romantic, but you need a comfortable pair of shoes. If you must, consider it a business investment. I can't have the newest sample distributor hobbling around on blistered feet.”

“Or the meat manager suffering from a broken back? Don't say otherwise, Cal. I'm not that light. Thank you for the shoes and for your thoughtfulness.”

“You're welcome, Beth. Feel up to doing something else now?”

“What do you have in mind?”

She caught that look on his face again and regretted her choice of words.

“There's a planetarium nearby. They have a 2pm show. We'd have time to see the afternoon show and return you to Redemption House before supper.”

“I've never been to a planetarium, Cal. But I'm sure I'd love it.“

The show was wonderful. Beth relaxed. When Cal slipped his arm around her, she rested her head against him. Time passed quickly as they enjoyed the night-like surroundings and the beauty of the star show.

They kept the conversation light on the ride back. Far too soon, Cal pulled the car to a stop in front of Redemption House.

“I've had a wonderful day, Cal. Thank you so much.”

“It was wonderful for me too, Beth. Our schedules won't make it easy, but we must work at finding more time together.”

Cal turned towards her and placed a gentle hand against her cheek. Then he leaned forward and Beth met him halfway. Their kiss was tender, but lingering. Finally they separated.

“I'll see you in the morning, working girl.”

He watched until the door hid her from his view. As she rode up the elevator, Beth drew the Chinese fortune from her pocket.

Your heart is a place to draw true happiness.

Good friends, a new job and now Cal. Her heart had felt empty for so long. The drawing was not complete, but it it had begun to fill her heart with warmth and color.

Cassandra and Judith had insisted on preparing supper, but wouldn't reveal their menu. She hoped it was a success. Cassandra's confidence could use the boost. Judith had quiet self-assurance, but Cassandra couldn't see her own skills. Suddenly Beth couldn't wait to see them and hurried towards the kitchen.

Judith sat at the worktable, but there were no signs of dinner.

“Is everything alright, Judith? Where's Cassandra?”

Judith turned towards her, revealing a face streaked by tears.

From behind Beth came the haughty voice of Lord's Servant Margaret.

“Cassandra is no longer with us.”

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for the next installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Convictions - Installment #15

2010-05-07T21:24:00.004-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

Beth hurried towards the kitchen. Time was tight, even for pasta. But as she approached, the tantalizing scent of beef, garlic and spices floated out to her. Cassandra was tossing a salad, while Judith mashed potatoes. They looked up as Beth entered.

“That smells wonderful. I'm so proud of you.”

“My timing is still off. The potatoes are ready, but the meatloaf is still cooking.”

“We can keep them warm, Judith. You've both done a terrific job with dinner.”

“So tell us how it went.”

“Thanks to you, I have the job, Cassandra”

“You messin' with me?”

“I'd never joke about a job. It's part-time and temporary. But it's a start.

“Will parole accept that?”

“Yes. I spoke with Officer Watkins. With my history, she considers any job an achievement and said it would fulfill the employment requirement. I don't have to continue cooking here, but I'm hoping Pastor Bob will let me.

“I hope so too. Hold on, I've got to get the brownies out of the oven.”

“You made brownies?”

“Judith helped me.”

“Not that much”, Judith interjected.

“You're baking, Cassandra. I knew you could do this.”

The sounds of the evening service began in the dining room and the trio stopped chatting as they hurried to finish the meal.

After dinner, Beth approached Pastor Bob. There was no sense in avoiding it. Better to deal with reality then worry about the unknown.

“Congratulations, Beth. I should have known you'd find a job. I am continually amazed by your resourcefulness.”

Was she dreaming? His words seemed spontaneous and sincere.

Thanks, Pastor Bob. The job is only part-time, but I'm delighted to have it."

“You should be. You've certainly beaten the odds. Is this acceptable to parole?

“I've spoken with my parole officer and she agreed to it.”

“Excellent.”

What was she missing? It shouldn't be this easy.

“Would you consider keeping your position here on a part-time basis? We would certainly miss your wonderful meals.”

“I was hoping you'd let me do that. I could be here for breakfast and dinner. Judith would be responsible for lunch and some of the shopping. Since I'll be at Pinnacle, I'll be able to shop there after work."

“That sounds fine. You'd still be doing a lot of work, so I'd continue to waive your housing fee. You could keep your current rooms too. Does that sound fair?”

Fair? It was far better than Beth had hoped.

“Yes it does. I'm committed to making this work, Pastor Bob.”

“I appreciate that Bethany.”

Beth hurried back to the kitchen with her news.

“And he agreed to everything?”

“Without a single argument.”

“That worries me, Beth.”

“I know what you mean, Cassandra. But it's hard to argue, when I'm getting what I want.”

“I hope you do, Beth. But be careful. Pastor Bob will find a way to make you pay for this. I hope it's not too costly.”

“Relax, Cassandra. It's going to be okay. Besides, I need your help with something else.”

“What's that?”

“I need clothes for work. Nice, but not expensive.”

“Judith just got some great stuff at an outlet store. And there's a consignment shop in the downtown shopping district. The prices are a bit more than a thrift store's, but the clothes are high quality."

Cassandra took a woeful glance at her own girth.

“Not that any of it would fit me. Wealthy ladies seem to be a lot smaller. Of course, if I stopped buying junk food, I'd be thinner and have more money.”

Beth had to laugh and Cassandra joined her. They agreed to meet the following morning.

She enjoyed the outing, although her cash shortage severely curtailed purchases. She bought a tailored white shirt at the outlet store. There were black slacks as well, but they exceeded her budget.

"I can buy them for you, Beth."

“You've done enough for me, Cassandra. You don't make that much money. Let's check out that thrift store.”

There were lots of black slacks, but only two pair that fit. Price governed her selection. Beth left with two dollars remaining in her wallet. She'd have to wash her outfit every evening until she had got her first paycheck.

When they returned to Redemption House, Beth modeled her new clothes for Cassandra and Judith. Finally, she told them about her upcoming date with Cal.

“Did you get anything to wear on your date?”

Beth's face fell.

“No, I didn't even think of that, Judith. Not that I could afford it. So I'll be wearing black slacks and my new white shirt. Not quite what I'd chose for a date, but it beats my t-shirt and jeans.”

“I'll be back in a minute.”

Judith returned with a gorgeous rose-colored top.

“Try this, we're about the same size.”

A black embroidered filigree followed the wide scooped neckline that ended near her shoulders and flowed into loosely draped sleeves. A diagonal ruching outlined her bust and waist. The angular bottom touched her waist on the left, then narrowed to a point over her right hip.

“Now that's what you wear to a date, girl. But it needs something more.”

Cassandra was back quickly carrying a bag and a small jewelry box.

The box held a slender gold necklace with a delicate teardrop pendant of rose quartz surrounded by a multitude of sparkling diamond chips.

“Oh Cassandra, how beautiful.”

“It's yours now.”

“No. I'd love to borrow it, but I couldn't take it.”

“Please keep it. It was a gift, but it doesn't fit around my thick neck. I do want these back."

She reached in the bag and pulled out black slingback heels.

“My feet are the only slender part of me. I'm hoping these will fit.”

They were perfect. Tears welled in Beth's eyes as she hugged her friends.

“It's been a long time since I've felt this pretty. You know what I mean?”

They knew. There were no dry eyes as they returned her hug.

I promised two installments this weekend. Here's the first. I'm working on the second one, which will be published on Sunday. Hope to see you then.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Sweet Revenge

2010-05-05T09:53:00.005-05:00

Warm day, soft breeze. White clouds, cerulean sky.
Flowers' scent, nature's hum.

Mellow wine, sharp cheese, sweet fruit, fresh honey.
Lovers savor the day, the food, each other.

Intensified hum. Pure black, vibrant yellow. No escape.
Honey theft revenged.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are escape, hum and vibrant. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

Leave It To Beaver

2010-05-04T11:17:00.007-05:00

The sun was warm that June day. Surely there was no need to wear a hooded jacket to ward off the cold. It's purpose was concealment and who could have guessed what was hidden beneath?

He walked silently through the peaceful woods. He seemed oblivious to the twittering birds or the paddling of the beaver's tail. Emerging at the back of the house, he crept quietly towards it. No need to pick the lock. The door had been conveniently left open.

The house kept his secret. No sound shattered the neighborhood's tranquility as he quickly finished his work. His crime was perfect. No one would ever know.

The detective thought otherwise, as he quickly followed a trail of blood to the assassin. The criminal was a wally. Only an amateur would neglect to wipe the cleaver before placing it back inside his jacket.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is Leave It To Beaver. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

Running Late

2010-05-01T15:24:00.002-05:00

I'm running a bit late.

Entertained relatives from Florida earlier in the week. Thought I'd polish my next installment after they left.

Mother Nature had a different idea. High wind and torrential rain caused some flooding in our home, covering the back half of the house with a half inch of water. Sure, it could have been worse. But it certainly has been a mess to clean up.

To top it all off, my characters started doing things I hadn't planned on. But as they did, pieces of the story fell into place. Pieces that I hadn't counted on. And they belong in the next two installments.

The bottom line - the current installment isn't ready.

The good news? I'll be publishing an installment next Friday and another one on Saturday. Hope you'll be back to check them out.

Scent of Spring

2010-04-28T03:23:00.007-05:00

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."
Margaret Atwood

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

My Favorite Martian

2010-04-27T18:25:00.006-05:00

Strangeness was in the air that night. Although the full moon lit the sky, I thought I saw mysterious shadows dance across it's face. Moments later, alien beings invaded the street. These were not the beings of daytime. These could not be creatures of this world. Their shapes and features were so varied that I could not guess their origin. A small green one with tentacles emerged from the crowd. "Not so scary", I thought. Then it came at me with startling speed. "Trick or Treat, Grandma" yelled my favorite Martian.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is My Favorite Martian. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

You Can't Win

2010-04-26T11:43:00.002-05:00

“Think outside the box.” That's what the boss said. He still hadn't seen a raise. What did Bill Gates have that Bill Goat didn't?

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #14

2010-04-24T13:00:00.005-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

Cal looked at Beth and smiled.

“I've figured out a way for you to work at Pinnacle.”

“I thought you said ...“

“I said that Pinnacle doesn't hire those convicted of certain crimes. Not everyone who works at the store is a Pinnacle employee. Sample distributors, for example, are staffed through temporary agencies. And those agencies have different hiring criteria than Pinnacle.”

“I've noticed distribution stations throughout the store. I'm sure I could cook and hand out samples.”

“I think you'd do well. It requires more than cooking skill, but that is an important part of the job. No amount of persuasion will convince shoppers to buy something that doesn't taste good. Customer service skills are important too. Your familiarity with the store will be a real asset. You'll need to watch for unsanitary conditions as well.”

“I've had a lot of practice keeping things clean."

“It's more than that. You'd be surprised how many people will pick up food, take a small taste and put it back with uneaten samples.“

“I'd never thought of that. Not very appetizing. I'm sure it's a quick way to spread germs too.”

“Exactly."

"Anything else?"

"Pinnacle expects to see an increase in the sale of featured products. Don't worry, it's not high pressure sales. If the food is good and the distributor is pleasant, the products almost sell themselves.”

“You think I'll be hired?“

“I can't guarantee it, but I can help. I'm one of three department managers who make decisions regarding those positions. If I send someone to the agency, that carries some weight.”

He pulled a business card from his wallet.

“On The Spot is the agency we use most frequently. Estelle Sterns does our hiring. Let her know that I've referred you. We just lost one of our morning distributors, so be sure to go there tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Cal. If I get this position, I'll make sure the store is very happy with my work.”

“I know that you will. “

“In a way, Beth, Pinnacle's policy works to my benefit.”

“How is that?”

“Pinnacle does not like their managers to date other employees.”

A blush tinted her cheeks as his words sunk in.

“Would you have lunch with me on Sunday, Beth?”

“Depends, Cal. Do I have to cook?”

Cal laughed and assured her that wasn't the case.

The next morning, Beth headed to On The Spot. She approached the receptionist's desk and asked to speak with Estelle Sterns.

"Are you looking for a position with our agency?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll need to fill out our application first."

Beth took the application and began to fill it out. It was similar to the innumerable ones she'd completed over the past few weeks. This time, however, she had a good chance for the job. She returned the completed application to the receptionist, who scanned it quickly.

“Thanks. Someone will call you if a position becomes available.”

She should have known. This would be no different than her other employment attempts. Beth turned and started out. Then she stopped and faced the receptionist.

“Mr. Kaufman at Pinnacle Grocery referred me. He said I should speak with Estelle Sterns while I was here.”

“In that case, have a seat. I'll see when she's available.”

Fifteen minutes later, Beth sat across from Estelle, waiting as she reviewed the application. Estelle was interested in Beth's cooking experience at Redemption House. She asked a few questions, then paused. Beth knew what came next.

“You've been convicted of a felony. Although it doesn't necessarily disqualify you from employment, I do need to know the charge.”

“Homicide.”

“Did it occur at your place of employment?”

“Did you ever threaten or harm someone at your place of employment?”

“Any other convictions?”

“Any parole violations?”

“Any history of drug use?”

When Beth had answered “No” to each of the questions, Estelle stopped and made a note on the application. Beth braced herself for a dismissal.

“You seem to be well suited for this job, Beth. Pinnacle has a morning shift available. You'd be needed Monday through Friday from 9am to 1pm. And Saturday from 10am until 4pm. Can you work those hours?"

“Certainly.”

For a fleeting moment, she wondered what Pastor Bob would say. Then Estelle drew her back to the present.

“All employees are required to pass a drug screening. The lab we use is just across the street. Can you take the test when you leave here?”

Beth nodded, barely able to believe her luck.

“The position begins at minimum wage. If your work is satisfactory, you can qualify for a raise in three months. While you are at the lab, I'll be checking with Redemption House.”

Estelle consulted the application.

“You didn't list a referral.”

"Cal Kaufman referred me."

"I noticed and I'll give him a call. I need to talk to someone at Redemption House too."

Beth felt her luck slipping away.

“Who is your supervisor there?”

Her supervisor? Beth could barely restrain a smile.

“Cassandra Forbes is my supervisor.”

Estelle made a note.

“Come back to see me when you've finished your screening."
Thirty minutes later, Beth was greeted by a smiling Estelle.

“Cal speaks highly of you and Miss Forbes gave you a glowing recommendation. Can you start work on Monday?"

“Yes. Even sooner if they need me.”

Estelle gave Beth's attire an appraising glance. The jeans and top were clean, but worn.

“Why don't you take that time to do a little shopping for your work attire. I'd recommend a crisp white shirt and black slacks. Can you manage that?”

Another affirmative. She'd find a way.

Beth checked the time as she left the agency. She should be back at Redemption House and starting dinner preparations. Judith did well with single dishes, but still lacked the ability to coordinate a meal. She'd deal with the time crunch when she got back. She needed to make one more stop.

Jane Watkins was talking to the receptionist when Beth entered the parole office.

“Hi Beth. Didn't I just see you on Tuesday?”

“You did. But I've got a question and it won't wait until my next visit. Do you have a minute?”

Fifteen minutes later, Beth left the office and raced towards Redemption House.

First she'd deal with dinner. Meatloaf took too long to cook. She'd make that tomorrow and serve pasta tonight. Later, she'd deal with Pastor Bob. If only he was as easy to handle as the menu.

Want to read more. Come back next Saturday for a new installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Friday Skies #7

2010-04-23T00:17:00.003-05:00

Want to see more sky photos?

Cravings

2010-04-22T22:22:00.002-05:00

Here's what I'm craving right now. Want a bite?

The Force

2010-04-21T15:39:00.004-05:00

What capricious god controls her mind
and denies access to the vital location?

I can do this. I CAN do this.

She concentrates and tries again.
She fails once more.
Bystanders watch hope ebb from her face.

Wait! Use The Force.

She closes her eyes and clears her mind.
Her hand reaches out.
It hovers, then moves in a random pattern.

She opens her eyes. It has failed her.

"Hey, lady. People are waiting.
You can't negotiate with those things."

She backs away, avoiding the eyes of the crowd.
Easier to look down at the evidence of her rejection.
Invalid PIN. Invalid PIN. Invalid PIN.

Three Word Wednesday. is a meme that challenges writers to create something using three selected words. This week's words are ebb, negotiate and random. Click on the link to view other entries or submit your own.

All In The Family

2010-04-20T01:27:00.004-05:00

Kelti loved all their celebrations. Still, she had known that this one would be special.

For days the women had searched woods and fields to gather nuts, grains, and berries. Kelti and her sister had helped make flour, pounding the grain for hours until it became soft and fine. They had watched closely as it was transformed into loaves of bread, some enhanced with the delicious berries and nuts. The tantalizing smell had wafted through the air as the loaves baked over the fire. Her brothers had joined the other young men, hauling water from the river to fill the huge pots. Her mother had carefully tended the fire underneath. Finally, the men brought the meat and added it to the steaming pots. For hours her mouth had watered with anticipation. Finally it was ready.

As was their custom, the tribe formed a circle around the cooking area. Their leader offered thanks to the gods. They raised their voices in song and danced around the fires. At last they sank to the ground. Hardly a word was spoken as they shared the crusty breads and speared chunks of steaming meat from the pot. Kelti's heart was warmed by the closeness of her tribe and the love of her family. Especially her beloved uncle, Yetto. She took another bite of meat, savoring the flavor. He was truly delicious.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is All In The Family. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

The Break

2010-04-19T03:43:00.003-05:00

Music refreshes spirits as water soothes tired feet. Soon the barmaids must return to the jarring noise and fetid air of the smoky tavern.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #13

2010-04-17T02:42:00.014-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

“Do you have a minute?”

Beth waited at the door until Pastor Bob looked up and motioned her in. She had brought him a cup of coffee and a plate with two donuts.

“I thought you might like to try these. They're fresh from the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Bethany. That's very thoughtful of you.”

Good cooking had gone a long way towards softening Pastor Bob. Perhaps this would work. She waited as he tasted one of the donuts.

“These are excellent, Bethany. Our Lord has blessed you with many culinary skills.”

“Thank you. But the compliment should be for Judith. She made them.”

“Even more impressive, you have teaching talents as well.”

“Hopefully, I've taught her enough to takeover, when it's time for me to leave.”

Hardness returned to his face.

“There will be no talk of leaving, Bethany. You're not going anywhere.”

“I've enjoyed cooking and learning to manage the kitchen, Pastor Bob. But parole has different requirements. They agreed to employment here for one month. I still owe part of last month's parole fee. I'm expected to find a job and pay those fees. I need to begin saving as well. We both know that I'll have to leave eventually.”

“I understand your concerns, Bethany. But there is no need to leave. You have become a valuable asset to Redemption House and your skills should be compensated. Redemption House can continue to provide room and board. In addition, we'll pay your parole fee and provide you with $100 per month. I'll handle the parole office.”

“Thank you. I lack your experience with parole, but I'd understood that everyone must seek outside employment.”

“Everyone must seek it. Not everyone will find it. You were young when you went to prison. Had you ever held a job?”

“I had a part time cashiering position at Findlan's Grocery when I was in high school.”

“Not likely to get you a job in this economy. Many people with far more experience and clean records are looking for work. So follow parole's requirements. Attend their training sessions and do the job search. When that has failed, I'll make the offer to keep you employed here.”

“And if I get an offer?”

“I think that is highly unlikely.”

Pastor Bob gave her a nod and reached for the phone. Their talk was at an end. Beth knew she'd never get a job recommendation from him.

“You're getting to be one of my best customers.”

Cal Kaufman smiled at Beth as she perused the meat specials. She rarely missed the opportunity to check the day's markdowns.

“I'll probably be a permanent one, given my success at finding another job.”

She hated to admit it, but Pastor Bob had been right. Four mornings per week, Cassandra did the shopping while Beth joined twenty other parolees in a job search program. For six weeks she'd applied for the jobs on their list. These employers had indicated willingness to hire those with felony convictions. Tax incentives spurred some. Others struggled with a plethora of low pay positions that were difficult to fill. Parolees with a work history and specialized skills were hired first. Those with fewer skills looked longer, but eventually found minimum wage positions. Beth watched as drug dealers, thieves, sex offenders and white collar criminals found work. The group had dwindled to two. Both Beth and the remaining parolee had homicide charges.

"Have you applied for a position here?"

Cal's inquiry took Beth by surprise. She'd focused on the employment list provided by parole.

“No. As you know, I'm staying at Redemption House. Does Pinnacle Grocery hire those with convictions?”

“All the time. As long as you haven't been in trouble since release and weren't convicted of a violent crime."

Beth tried to find the right words. Cal looked at her face and didn't wait for a response.

“I'll put your selections aside back here. You can come back for them later. Meet me at the coffee shop next door in 15 minutes.”

Beth nodded and left without another word.

The futile job search had shaken her confidence. The pattern was always the same. Complete the application. Meet with a manager. Answer questions about job skills. Then the pause at the critical question: “Have you ever been convicted of a felony?” No one showed surprise at the checked box. Their employer was listed with parole. Some were encouraging, mentioning that her answer did not disqualify her. “What was the charge?” The manager would nod and quickly finish the interview. There are currently no jobs that match your skills. We'll certainly keep you in mind. Good luck with your search. The words varied, but the message was clear. No job offers would be forthcoming. She had known it wouldn't be easy, but never anticipated the shame. Prison was an equalizer. Everyone had been convicted of a crime. Interviews were different. She became a lesser person, as though a scarlet M had been placed on her forehead. With each rejection, she became more demoralized.

She entered the coffee shop and took a seat. She looked forward to seeing Cal when she shopped. He was handsome, personable and just two years older than herself. Their conversations had focused on daily specials, then gradually expanded to more personal exchanges. She had sensed Cal's interest in her. He'd want nothing to do with her now. Probably why he'd asked her to meet here. He'd wanted her out of the store and hadn't wanted to create a scene.

She didn't need to wait for another rejection. There were other grocers in the area. Perhaps they had similar buys. She waived away the waitress and headed for the door. She pushed the door. It didn't open. Pull. It opened quickly. Too late she realized that Cal was pushing from the other side. She teetered backwards and his arms stretched out to steady her. He didn't let go immediately. Beth felt her embarrassment replaced by another emotion.

“Were you trying to stand me up?”

Embarrassment returned.

“No, but you don't need to waste your time on me.”

“I don't consider it wasted, Beth. I see you as a person, not as a conviction. And I like what I see. I don't want to be judged by my crime, so I certainly wouldn't do that to you.”

He steered her towards a booth and ordered coffee. Beth began to calm and his words registered.

“Your crime?”

“I did two years for a drug crime. A foolish and costly mistake. I lost my job, my family and my pride. When I was released, I had to start over.“

“You have a great job now.“

“Yes. But I started as a stock boy. That's a job for teenagers, not a man nearing thirty.”

"It must have been difficult. But right now, I'd jump at a job like that.”

“I understand and I wish Pinnacle's policy were different. But I have an idea.”

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Friday Skies #6

2010-04-16T10:51:00.002-05:00

Want to see more sky photos?

Can't Take It With You

2010-04-15T00:35:00.004-05:00

You have to leave your home and everything in it. There will be basic furnishings, linens and food at your new place. Your family and pets can come too. After six months, you can purchase other items. But you can never go back and retrieve the things left at your home.

What could you live without for six months? How about forever?

Here's what I'm taking.

Medications. Wouldn't last 6 months without them.
Clothes. I'm not sure what the weather's like at the new location, but I don't want to freeze. Even if it's warm, Grandma's not into scaring people.
Cosmetic Case. No need for lipstick and mascara, but I'd prefer not to spend 6 months without soap, toothpaste and deodorant. Bet my family would prefer it too.
Computers. Even without an internet connection, although that seems like a basic from my perspective. I'm not sharing with Calico and Miss Muffin either, so their's are coming as well. No that doesn't count as multiple items. Afterall, I am making the rules.
Keyboard. What's life without a little music? And Miss Muffin can entertain herself for hours with it.
Photos. If I had them scanned and uploaded, I'd leave the hard copies and download them when I reached my location. But many of the treasured ones have never been introduced to the virtual world. There's some motivation to start scanning.
Glasses. Don't want to spend 6 months in a blur.
Canes. Mobility rates.
Complete Works of Stephen King. That will keep Calico happy for a long time. If it's in large print, I'd enjoy it too.
Miss Muffin's Security System This is a cheat and I know it. But my granddaughter still has her security blanket and enough stuffed animals for 10 lists. Without them, none of us would sleep.
My Parent's Coffee Mugs. They feel close each time we use them.
My Grandparent's Antique Desk. It's been with me for years. It spells home.
The car. Assuming we are provided with transportation to the new home, I could easily live 6 months without going anywhere. Not so sure about the rest of the family.

The list surprised me a bit. I just started writing items as they occurred to me. At the end, there were more practical items and fewer sentimental than I'd anticipated. But I don't think I'd change it.

What would you bring?

'Tis The Season

2010-04-14T02:46:00.002-05:00

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

The Invisible Man

2010-04-13T03:43:00.008-05:00

The couples looked up when Sylvie walked in.

“Jeff's not coming?”

Cindy nudged Kay under the table. It had been years since he'd accompanied Sylvie. Kay, still single, always had a date. She could be so thoughtless.

“No, Kay. I'd hoped so, but he's still out of town.”

Cindy, Jen and Sylvie had met at Calcine, Inc. nearly twenty years before. Soon they went everywhere together. Happy hours, ski weekends, exotic vacations. Cindy married first. Jen followed a few months later. Sylvie, already in middle management, had little time for the dating game. They conspired to find the right guy. In the end, Sylvie picked her own. Jeff , a freelance writer, traveled frequently. When he couldn't be home, Sylvie flew to meet him on the weekends. With five preschoolers between them, Cindy and Jen viewed her trips with undisguised envy.

The girls still met frequently for lunch. One day Cindy invited Kay. Although several years younger, she'd fit in well and soon became part of their group. There was little time for socializing outside work, but all looked forward to the company Christmas party. It was a gala event and each year they sat together. Then Jeff stopped attending. Sylvie made excuses, but it must be difficult. He'd send flowers for important occasions, but special lunch dates ended. Kay dubbed him “the invisible husband”. Cindy and Jen suspected an affair. No job should keep him away that much.

Dinner was sumptuous. Dancing followed. By unspoken agreement, the men took turns dancing with Sylvie. It was not a hardship. Sylvie was a lovely woman and a graceful dancer. Before the final dance, she wished them a happy holiday and left.

Sylvie drove fifty miles to the Hilltop Long Term Care Facility. Just as she had done every Saturday for almost ten years. She headed to Room 304. Her face was somber, but she smiled courteously at the staff.

“Hello, Darling.”

The only sound from the emaciated man on the bed was the whir from machinery that kept him alive. She knew the staff admired her. Pitied her as well. Of course, they didn't understand. Marrying Jeff had been a strategic move. Good corporate image. No more speculation about her unmarried state. A husband who was frequently away. Perfect until he'd confronted her with the affair. She'd begged him to forgive her. They reconciled at a favorite mountain retreat. Hiked to the top of that breathtaking waterfall. Then Jeff slipped on the wet moss. It had only taken a tiny push to send him into the cascading water. How had he survived?

The accident made the local news in the small mountain town. But back in the city, no one knew. A death would have been much harder to hide. It had truly worked out for the best.

She'd sit here for an hour holding his withered hand. A small price to pay for freedom. Then she'd head west for a few more miles. Kay was waiting.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is The Invisible Man. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

While Hope Remains

2010-04-12T13:49:00.004-05:00

Ducks fell from the sky. Sound touched the water. Her mate's graceful body sank below the surface. Each day she waits for his return.

Microfiction Monday offers a new image each week and a challenge to write a story of 140 characters or less. Click on the image to see other entries. Why not try your own?

Convictions - Installment #12

2010-04-11T16:16:00.006-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

Beth looked around the kitchen with pride. The storeroom was clean, organized and fully stocked. The kitchen sparkled and sported a new freezer. A work table, converted to a desk, contained grocery specials, menu plans and expense reports. Hard to believe that only three weeks had passed since she had become the Redemption House Cook.

A trip to the food warehouse had helped expand her limited budget. Many baking and canned goods were regularly available. Cheese and other surplus items were not as reliable, but all could be used to ease the tight budget. Staff were courteous, but surprised. It had been almost two years since Redemption House had used their services for more than a few items. But they were encouraging when they learned her intentions. She was delighted to learn that delivery was available for non-profit groups.

The canned meats available through the warehouse were useful for casseroles or sandwiches, but Beth had no desire to serve canned meat at every meal. On her third trip to the grocery store, she asked to speak with Calvin Kaufman, the meat manager. Some larger meat packages had lower prices. She hoped that discount would be increased, if she purchased substantially more than those packages held. Calvin told her that wasn't possible, but suggested meats nearing the end of their shelf life. Prices on these were dramatically slashed. The meat should be used with 48 hours or be frozen, but the quality was as good as the higher priced packages. Although availability couldn't be predicted, mark downs were made each morning. If she checked with him before 9am, she could pick before they were made public.

She developed a flexible menu. When she found good markdowns, the meat was used for the following day's dinner. When none were available, she used the canned meats provided by the warehouse. Cal also told her about a nearby farmer's market. Fruits, eggs and vegetables could be purchased there at prices significantly lower than the store's. Beth wondered if the store would approve of Cal's suggestion, but hurried to check it out. Not only were the prices good, but they were decreased again at the end of each day. Bruised or very ripe items were sold for next to nothing. If she purchased other items, they were frequently added at no cost.

“How I wish I had a cart”, she'd moaned to Cassandra, as they lugged their finds back to the house.

"I could take advantage of a lot more if I had a way to transport it. And I've had dreams about a freezer.”

“What would you do with a freezer?”

“Freeze meat specials. Make extra dinner portions and freeze them for another night. Do our baking in larger quantities. That would save so much time."

Beth realized her error when Cassandra pushed a cart into the kitchen the next day.

“Pastor Bob found a little extra money.”

More than a little, it seemed. At the end of the week, an upright freezer was delivered. The rolling cart was removed from the storage room and the freezer took it's place. The cart now resided in the dining area and served as a coffee station. Residents loved the opportunity for a second cup of steaming coffee. Beth left it up after breakfast and began to add freshly baked pastries around mid-morning. Beth wondered if Pastor Bob would protest, but she had no need to worry. Minutes after the pastries appeared next to the coffee, so did Pastor Bob. Although Lord's Servant Margaret had nothing complimentary to say, she was also a frequent visitor.

A voice jolted Beth back to the present.

“Wake up, girl. I've fixed us some drinks and a plate of Judith's cookies. Let's relax for a bit.”

Beth smiled and followed Cassandra to her small sitting room, where they settled into the comfy chairs.

“Her cookies are almost as good as yours.”

“Judith has really come a long way. I was happy to have anyone who could help, but a bit disappointed when I learned she'd never done any cooking. She certainly has talent. Did you know she made the bread today?”

“Wow. Of course, she'll never have potato peeling talent like mine.”

“I'm thrilled that you do so much of the prep work, Cassandra. You've saved me a lot of time. That's not really part of supervising us. I'm sure that you and Judith will be a big help to our next cook.”

“Next cook? What are you talkin' about, girl?”

“My month is up in a couple of days. I'll be looking for a real job. Wish I could keep these quarters though. It's been great having my own private place.”

“Don't worry about leaving it. Pastor Bob isn't going to let you go. Have you said anything about this to him?”

“No, but he must know. I'm only supposed to work here for my first month.”

“Things change. I've been here over a year now and I've never worked outside. Pastor Bob talked to the parole office and they were happy to let me work here. I don't have any skills and went down for some money troubles. That rules out a lot of jobs. I get my room and meals, Redemption House pays my parole fee and I get $100 spending money each month. I have a lot of freedom and all I really have to do is keep Pastor Bob happy.”

“But what will you do when you have to leave?”

“You know what will happen, Beth. We've both seen women who rotate from outside to prison. I'll be back there within weeks of leaving here. And I'm okay with that. Not as much freedom, but there's a bed to sleep in and three meals a day. No boyfriend beating me or spending the rent money on drugs. I'll do a little time and soon I'll be back here for another two years.”

“You could have so much more, Cassandra.”

“Nothing in my life has convinced me of that. I know you want more Beth and I hope that you get it. But I don't think that Pastor Bob is going to let you go.”

“I do want more, Cassandra. I want to live an unsupervised life. I want a home, a career and someday, a family. None of that will happen while I'm cooking here. Anyway, I don't think he can stop me.”

“He can tell parole that you're not ready for outside employment. Or plant some drugs in your quarters. Then find them and have your parole revoked.”

“I've never done drugs.”

“Who do you think parole will believe?”

“But I can't stay here, Cassandra. I've got to find a way out.”

“I hope you find it. But be careful of Pastor Bob. He can be very vindictive. He'd rather lose a good cook than let you walk out on him.”

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for a new installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Convictions - In A Nutshell

2010-04-10T14:38:00.018-05:00

Writing a novel in weekly installments on my blog has some inherent problems. One is that the time gap between installments can make it more difficult for readers to follow the story line. Another is that new readers arrive part way through the story and may not have time to read all the previous installments. To help, I've created a summarized version of previous installments and will update it after new installments. The summary follows. I hope that you will find it helpful. Please check back tomorrow evening for a new installment to Convictions

At the age of 33 years, Bethany Holister is released from fifteen years in prison. She walks to the bus terminal carrying all her possessions in an over-sized handbag.
On the bus, Beth recalls her youth. Her parents, Amanda and Greg Hollister, are frequently away on business trips and seem uninterested in her. In their absence, Beth is cared for by “Gran” who loves her and calls her Angel. Her best friend, Rick, lives next door. They spend a lot of time together in Beth's secret tree-house. His mother, Miss Pauline, is a loving but extremely anxious parent. His father, Mr. John, is more relaxed. Although frequently away on business, he finds time to spend with Rick. Beth recalls the day that he taught her how to ride a bike.
Beth's memories continue as she recalls how Gran assisted them in unearthing a treasure box found in the backyard. The "treasure", a red toolbox buried during landscaping, disappoints Beth, but Rick decides to make it a real treasure box for his coins, marbles, and shells. On the same day, Beth's mother, Amanda, leaves to help her husband with a business emergency. Beth is allowed to spend her first overnight at Gran's cottage. The walk to the cottage takes them along a woodland trail that emerges at the back of Gran's property.
Beth attends a potluck supper at Gran's church and meets Skyla, a shy girl who shows Beth her favorite hiding spot in the church's unused choir loft. Beth tells Skyla that her mother does not like churches, although she doesn't know why. She also reveals that she was named for her two grandmothers, Bethany and Elizabeth, giving her the nickname of Beth Beth. Beth loves her sleeping spot in the tiny loft bedroom in Gran's cottage and wishes she could live there.

When the bus reaches it's destination, Beth walks to Redemption House, a halfway house where she is required to stay as a condition of her release. It is not a house, but the tenth floor of an old office building in a deteriorating area of the city. Beth is discouraged by the dismal settings and the barred windows, but knows it is her only chance for freedom.
Beth spent five years attempting to receive parole approval. Many halfway houses refused admission to those convicted of a violent crime. She began attending the prison's religious services despite a lack of belief, since some religious affiliated houses had more liberal acceptance policies. This strategy eventually gained her acceptance to Redemption House, a halfway house run by a small religious sect, the Redemptarians.

She meets Pastor Bob and his wife, Margaret, who are the only full time staff at Redemption House. Pastor Bob tells her that he did not approve of her acceptance, feels she is deceitful and expects her to fail. She also learns that she must work full time at the halfway house for her first month and will not be allowed outside with the exception of supervised visits to the parole office.
Beth is assigned to a tiny bedroom with four other residents and a senior resident named Cassandra. The dining area doubles as a room for the morning and evening services. Pastor Bob's focus on sin and damnation is a stark contrast to the themes of love and forgiveness that Beth experienced at Gran's church. Residents who don't attend services, don't get meals. After a dinner of mushy pasta and a breakfast of burnt oatmeal, this doesn't seem much of a punishment. Beth learns that new residents are assigned kitchen cleanup after meals in addition to their regular duties.

The following morning Beth is accompanied by Cassandra to her first parole visit. Cassandra questions Beth about her cooking skills and is delighted to find that Beth is a good cook. She points Beth to the parole office and goes to a nearby restaurant to get “some real breakfast”.
Beth has an uneventful meeting with her parole officer. When she and Cassandra return to the house, Margaret assigns her to cleaning duties. Later, she is summoned to Pastor Bob's office and receives a new assignment as the house cook. The food budget is tight and so is time. Pastor Bob expects her to serve the evening meal for fifty people with just three hours notice. There are unexpected bonuses. Because the cook rises early, she has her own private quarters off the kitchen. Beth will be allowed daily shopping trips under Cassandra's supervision.
Beth displays her resourcefulness and cooking skills to prepare the evening meal with staples from the storeroom and produce from a hurried trip to the store. She enlists Cassandra's help with the food preparation. Everyone is delighted with her meal except Margaret, who informs Beth that she is still required to do the cleanup and that the other assigned resident “is no longer with us.”
Already exhausted, Beth struggles to clean the kitchen and complete food preparation for the next day. Cassandra discovers what's happened and sneaks back with several other residents after lights out to assist her.

The next day, Margaret tells Beth that two other residents will do cleaning. One of them will also be a full time assistant for Beth. Margaret makes it clear that she does not approve of these decisions.

Beth and Cassandra leave to do shopping. Beth asks Cassandra how she managed to get her the cooking job and an assistant. Cassandra grins and tells her that she helps Pastor Bob "satisfy his appetite".
The beginning of Amanda's story. Bethany(Annie) and Jacques(Jake) Cantreau, Beth's maternal grandparents, marry after high school and struggle to put Jake through college. His career is successful, but his obsession with image and his self-righteous religious beliefs endanger their marriage's happiness. Annie does not become pregnant and Jacques refuses fertility testing. After five years they have a child. Jacques is thrilled and let's Bethany choose a name. She feels this baby will help restore their happiness and names her Amanda, which means loveable.
Amanda meets with Lucy Smith(Gran) and asks if she is willing to be named in their wills as Beth's guardian, stating “she loves you far more than she loves us”. Greg's parents died many years ago. Amanda no longer has a relationship with her parents, because her father didn't approve of her life. Her mother is more loving, but always conceded to her father's wishes. Beth does not know that they are alive and Amanda doesn't want her raised by them. Lucy agrees and Amanda gives her a packet containing information about herself and her parents to be given to Beth when she is older. Amanda spends another hour talking to Gran. The conversation is not revealed. She also has something to show her and they go upstairs for a few minutes. After their talk, Amanda seems calmer than she has for many months, but Gran regrets that she will have to keep secrets from Beth.
Beth and Cassandra discuss their futures. Cassandra predicts that she will always rotate between a halfway house and prison. Better than living with a boyfriend who beats her and spends the rent money on drugs, she tells Beth. Beth wants more - freedom, career, family. She tells Cassandra that she will seek outside employment at the end of the month. Cassandra predicts that Pastor Bob will never allow it.
Pastor Bob wants Beth to remain as the Redemption House cook and offers to pay a small allowance and her parole fee. Parole requires her to search for work, but he tells her she won't be able to find a job. Beth knows that he won't give her a job recommendation. After 6 weeks of futile searching, Beth believes that Pastor Bob is correct. Cal, the meat manager at Pinnacle Grocery, asks if she has applied there. When he learns of her charges, he tells her that Pinnacle won't hire her, but he has another idea.
Cal tells Beth about a temporary employment agency that may hire her. Pinnacle uses the agency to staff their sample distribution positions. Beth interviews and is offered the position to begin on Monday. Cal asks Beth for a lunch date on Sunday and she agrees.
Beth shares the news of her employment with Judith and Cassandra, who have successfully cooked their first dinner without her. Beth and Cassndra search outlet and thrift stores to find work attire for Beth. Purchasing one outfit leaves her with only two dollars in her wallet. When Judith and Cassandra learn about her upcoming date, they come to the rescue, loaning a dressy top and high heels. Cassandra gives her a beautiful rose quartz necklace. Beth protests, but Cassandra tells her that it's too small for her neck
Beth shares a romantic date with Cal. When Cassandra's heels hurt her feet, he carries her back to his car and they share a first kiss. Cassandra and Judith have promised to cook the evening meal, but haven't revealed their menu. Beth returns to Redemption House, anxious to see the results. She is greeted by a kitchen with no signs of dinner. Judith is in tears. Margaret enters the kitchen behind Beth and announces that "Cassandra is no longer with us."
Beth struggles to put the Sunday meal on the table. Pastor Bob talks to Beth about Cassandra, issuing a none-too-subtle warning that actions have consequences. Margaret is once again the kitchen supervisor and stands in a corner making malicious comments. Judith tells Beth that Pastor Bob planted drugs with Cassandra's possessions. He had listened to Cassandra's phone conversation with the temp agency that hired Beth. This was his revenge. Beth tells Judith that there is nothing that they can do to help Cassandra. Any action could get their parole revoked too. Judith retorts that Beth is already imprisoned by her fears. Later, Beth finds more work clothes that Cassandra purchased and left on her bed. She cries and vows that she will stop living in fear.

Friday Skies #5

2010-04-09T21:47:00.004-05:00

Want to see more sky photos?

The Best Beans

2010-04-08T01:37:00.005-05:00

On Easter morning, we awoke to overflowing baskets. The Bunny knows us well, so our loot included plenty of jelly beans. Not ordinary jelly beans, but Jelly Belly beans.

The Jelly Belly history dates back to 1869 when the Goelitz brothers came to the US and started a candy factory. But it was almost one hundred years before they began to produce jelly beans. Ronald Reagan became a fan while he was Governor of California and they traveled with him to the White House. The blueberry Jelly Belly was created so that Reagan could serve red, white and blue jelly beans at his inaugural parties. Jelly Belly also holds the honor of being the first jelly bean in outer space.

These quality jelly beans come in a wide variety of flavors. One category, the Harry Potter inspired BeanBoozled, includes Toothpaste, Dog Food, Rotten Egg and Skunk Spray flavored beans. I'm not that adventurous, but there are plenty of other flavors to choose from. If you haven't guessed by now, Grandma's favorite jelly bean flavors are the subject of today's list.

Blueberry
Buttered Popcorn
Caramel Corn
Cinnamon
Coconut
Cranberry
French Vanilla
Lemon Lime
Licorice
Margarita
Sour Lemon
Tangerine
Toasted Marshmallow

If you'd like to learn more about the history, buy some beans or get a degree in Beanology, just head over to Jelly Belly and check it out.

Negativity

2010-04-07T11:54:00.006-05:00

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

The Golden Girls

2010-04-06T01:22:00.015-05:00

Mary Smith hurried past her mother and headed to her bedroom. It was the easiest way to avoid questions about her day. Not to mention the freshly baked cookies. Bad enough that she was plain, she didn't need to be fat too. Her day had not been good. Like her life, it had been average. Average grades, average looks, average friends.

What would you expect when a clerk named Jane Brown married Bob Smith, auto parts associate? Just what they had. A small rented bungalow in a tired neighborhood. Homemade clothes. Vacation trips to the local beach. And an average child named Mary.

Why not Tiffany or Crystal or Jewel? Girls with those names lived differently. Homes resembling small mansions. Designer clothes. European vacations. Looks, brains, popularity. As if some leprechaun had sprinkled them with enchanted gold dust. Why couldn't she be a golden girl? .

Suddenly inspired, she grabbed a blank pad of paper and stretched out on her bed.

I, Mary Smith, hereby change my name to Tiffany Worthington.

Was it legal? Would it make a difference? She closed her eyes for just a minute.

A tap at the door awoke her. A maid set a tray by her bed.

"Here's your breakfast, Miss Tiffany."

The luxurious bedroom was bigger than her house. The mirror reflected long golden hair and a perfect face. Dreaming, of course, but she planned on enjoying it. Eat every bite of that calorie-laden breakfast. Raid the huge closet and try the designer outfits. Perhaps she'd experience an entire day as a golden girl before she awoke.

"Tiffany!" Crystal looked shocked and repulsed.
"You wore that outfit last month. What are people going to think?"
A quick retreat. "Gotta run."

Honor classes weren't easy. A "D" on this composition? It's better than anything I've ever written. Jewel and Amber are pointing at me. Probably the outfit. Do I have other friends? I'm going to find Jenny. She may be average, but she's kind. Wait, she's having lunch with ... Me? Only it's not me, it's Mary. This is a weird dream. I've been watching too many of those body-swap movies. Except they are funny.

Glad that school is out and I'm heading home to the mansion. Wish I could wake up now.

"What's that, Clarice? Dinner in my room? No, I'm tired of eating alone. Where are my parents?"

"Oh yes, Dad's still doing business in China. No, I didn't remember that it's one of Mom's nights out. How many does she have?"

"Five or six. Right."

Someone wake me up now. Please. I want to wake up now. Please... Please.

"Great dinner, Mom. I loved the meatloaf."

Tiffany loved the attention too. A mother who asked about her day and baked cookies from scratch. A father who came home to their little bungalow each evening. A true friend. And a new name. "Mary" was so pretty and unpretentious. Who needed empty mansions? Had a leprechaun sprinkled her with enchanted gold dust?

It had to be a dream. But this one had lasted for over a month. Please, don't let me wake up.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is The Golden Girls. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

Grandma Tidbits #5

2010-04-05T13:04:00.006-05:00

What are you grateful for today?
Life. Here's a small rhyme I wrote a couple months ago that says it well:

When I was young, I'd wonder why
bad times would come to make me cry.
What had I done? What was the cause?
Were these the fruits of divine laws?

Now that I'm old, each day's a gift:
the good, the bad, the subtle rift.
My life flows swift towards end of time
and I am glad that they are mine.

What's missing in your life?
A fully functioning heart. My damaged one doesn't pump blood effectively. That creates other health problems and restricts what I can do physically. But even so, my life is good. If I'm missing anything else, I guess it's too insignificant to remember.

Has the conflict and harm religion has caused outweighed the good it has produced?
Conflict is a constant in our world. Religion is one of the excuses used for conflict. I think the same holds true of good. The world is filled with good people and loving actions. Some are the product of religious belief, some are not.

Check out Manic Monday for more answers to these questions. Or join in the fun and add your own answers

Happy Easter

2010-04-04T23:39:00.003-05:00

Convictions

2010-04-03T03:46:00.004-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

I'm taking a break from writing to enjoy the weekend with my family. Convictions will return next Saturday with a new installment. I hope you'll be back as well.

Pruning

2010-04-02T22:13:00.007-05:00

We had some unidentified bushes at the front of the house. The new leaves are very pretty, a bright red. I'd seen similar ones, although much larger, in Atlanta. The red leaves turn to green as they get older. They have a fairly glossy look and are oval-shape with a point at the top. I had never seen these in my northern years. Red leaves came in the fall.

I started searching and came up with the Red Leaf Photinia as my best candidate. I think that's what we have, but I'd be interested to hear any other ideas my readers might have.

We plan on keeping them, they are quite beautiful, though badly in need of some pruning. We'd hate to cut those beautiful new branches, but I wonder what is the best time to do it. At the minute, I can't go down the walkway to the car without being poked.

In the virtual world, I did a bit of pruning today. "Friends" are fairly transient there and if they aren't playing with my virtual pet, it's time for them to go. If only the rest of life were that simple.

Want to see more sky photos?

For Better Or Worse

2010-04-01T13:42:00.008-05:00

This started as a list of things that could be improved. Coffee made the top of the list. No need to go further. For those who love coffee. For those who don't, because they've never had a really good cup. Here are 13 ways to make better coffee.

Equipment
Skip glass carafes that sit on hot plates. They make coffee bitter very quickly. Hamilton Beach makes a coffee brew station that is my favorite. Push button dispensing and no bitter taste, even hours after it's made.
Keep it clean
Remnants of yesterday's coffee will not improve today's. Wash removable parts daily. A monthly vinegar rinse will prevent buildup that slows brewing time and keeps coffee tasting great.
Grinding
Buy the beans whole and grind them right before you make your coffee. Coffee grinders are inexpensive and grinding takes seconds. The aroma alone is justification for this one.
The Right Bean
Truly a matter of personal taste, so try different beans to see which you like best. There are many different roasts, not to mention a multitude of flavored beans.
Heavy Cream
No substitute has the same wonderful effect. Spare me the cholesterol lectures. I'm talking about better coffee, not better arteries.
Spice it up
Try a sprinkle of cinnamon or nutmeg to change your coffee experience.
Cocoa
Every chocolate lover should enjoy this one. Put cocoa in a shaker and sprinkle it on top of your coffee. Or mix a teaspoon of cocoa with the ground beans before brewing
Whipped Cream
A totally different experience from cream in the coffee. Take a couple minutes and whip it fresh while your coffee is brewing. Calico and I like creme brulee flavored coffee topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of nutmeg.
The Right Mug
Again it's a matter of personal taste. Some may prefer using the same treasured mug each day. We choose from a variety for different seasons and holidays. The mug is part of the total experience. Don't just thoughlessly grab one.
Keep it hot
No, Grandma is not attempting to instruct you in matters that should be personal. I'm talking about a mug warmer. No need to gulp your coffee. These handy little devices are quite inexpensive and do a great job of keeping coffee warm.
Moderation
I used to drink several cups a day. I got lots of caffeine buzz, but not much coffee pleasure. Now I drink one cup and enjoy it more.
Time
Nothing this good should be rushed. If you're using that mug warmer, you won't need to. Savor each steaming, flavorful sip.
Company
Sure you can drink alone and I won't even recommend a 12-step program if you do. But regardless of how you make it, it's always better with a friend.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others’ comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted! View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

The Trail

2010-03-31T12:23:00.007-05:00

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. Ralph Waldo Emerson

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

Dark Shadows

2010-03-30T00:32:00.012-05:00

"Grandma, your house is so old and creepy. Do evil spirits live here?"

Jenny tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice trembled. Her younger brother, Will, was quick to join in.

"I don't want to sleep overnight, Grandma. I'm scared."

"This is an old house and sometimes it makes a lot of strange sounds. But nothing evil has ever happened here, children. Grampa and I had a lot of fun here over the years though. Did you ever eat popcorn made in a fireplace?"

"Can we Grandma?"

Grandma breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Their parents were out of town, so going home was not an option. Turn on some cartoons, feed them some popcorn and distract those vivid imaginations. Soon they'd be relaxed and ready for bed.

"Grandma! Something is crawling up the wall."

"That's just a shadow, Will. See the plant that's hanging over there? It's casting it's shadow on the wall. Watch, we can make shadows too."

"Your fingers are making a rabbit, Grandma. Look at it's wiggly ears."

"Come on, Grandma. Show us how to make them."

"My dog is better than your giraffe, Jenny."

"I don't thing so, Will. Ooh Grandma. That person's awesome. How do you make it swing the ax?

"I didn't make . . ."

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called

Tales on Tuesday

This week's theme is Dark Shadows. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

Grandma Tidbits #4

2010-03-29T13:00:00.013-05:00

How do you feel about couples that share an email address?
I really hadn't thought about it before. I can't imagine saying anything that both halves of a couple couldn't read. Or that they would share an address if it were an issue.

How open about your life are you in the various online arenas?
I'm fairly open about my life. I talk about my health, my family and my passions. I'm pretty closed about my identity. I reveal that I'm a female senior citizen from the Memphis area, but not much more. Grandma may be a bit senile, but she ain't crazy. Click here for my real name, home address and social security number. What? You say that link's not working?

On average, how many hours a week do you spend online? Do you think it's too much?
That's rather like asking how much time I spend eating dairy products. I could estimate the time I spend eating, but I don't break it down into food groups. I spend at least 10 hours a day on the computer and frequently more. I blog, I write tutorials, I play with virtual pets and I chat with friends on a couple of boards. Some of these activities are online, some aren't. Sometimes I do more than one at the same time.

I think it's a lot of time, but I don't think it's too much. I live with a number of physical restrictions, so much of my time is spent sitting. I'm happiest when I'm sitting at my computer.

Check out Manic Monday for more answers to these questions. Or join in the fun and add your own answers

Convictions - Installment #11

2010-03-28T01:04:00.007-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index.
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

Two young lovers sat under a blossoming apple tree, oblivious to approaching doom. Suddenly the space aliens descended in a cloud of purple smoke. When the cloud lifted, only a small withered tree remained.

Skyla and Beth giggled nervously from their front row seats as the aliens moved on towards an unsuspecting city. Rick and his buddy, Jeff, assumed brave faces, although they had been as startled as the girls.

“Let's go get some more candy, Jeff.”

“Just trying to get away from the aliens”, Skyla whispered to Beth as the boys headed off. “We're lots braver than they are.”

Beth nodded, but kept her eyes on the screen.

“Beth. Look. Harry's over there. I think he's looking at me. Do you think he is?”

“Probably, Skyla.”

“Beth, what is wrong with you? He is so good looking. You'd rather watch the movie than look at Harry?”

Beth grinned.

“Yup. But I can tell that you wouldn't.”

Skyla got the message and Beth continued to watch the movie.

Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table when Amanda appeared in the doorway.

“Where's Beth?”

“It's Skyla's birthday. Her mother dropped them at the movies. Then they're going to her house for cake and ice cream.”

“Good. We need to talk and I don't want Beth to hear this.”

Amanda turned and headed towards the study. Ten months had passed since she'd returned from her emergency business trip. Soon after, Lucy became aware of a change. Amanda had always seemed confident, sometimes even arrogant. The confidence had eroded. Amanda seemed nervous and distracted. As if she were looking over her shoulder, waiting for something to appear.

Lucy followed her to the study. Amanda pointed at a chair and motioned for her to sit. She closed the doors to the study, but remained standing and began to slowly pace around the room.

“Greg and I had our wills updated a couple months ago. The lawyer noted that we had not designated a guardian for Beth. Someone to care for her if we both died.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“Yes. But it does happen. Car accidents, for example. He said it was important to choose someone.”

“I know you've both lost your parents. Are there other relatives?”

“Greg's mother died when he was an infant. He lost his father when he was a college freshman. My parents are still alive.”

“But I thought they had died.“

“That's what we told Beth. She doesn't know about them and they don't know about her.”

“Why, Amanda?”

“It's what they chose. What my father chose. He has a very rigid belief system. My life was an affront to him.”

“And your mother?”

“Bethany is named for her. I know she would have loved her. I know that she loved me. But she couldn't say no to my father and Jacques Cantreau made my life a living hell.”

Lucy waited, but Amanda did not say more. Finally she sat and looked directly at Lucy.

“I know how much you love Beth. And she loves you far more than she loves us.”

She waived away the protest.

“It's true. That's why I'm asking you. If anything happens to us, would you take care of Beth?”

“Of course. I pray that never happens. But I would gladly care for her. I can't even imagine life without her.”

She thought a moment. “Do you think that her grandparents would fight for custody?”

“It's possible. But I don't think so. Anyway, the lawyer says the parents' choice would hold a lot of weight.”

“And Greg agrees with this?”

“Greg doesn't care. Surely you've seen the way he is with Beth. He never wanted a child. I'd hoped that might change.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"He said he'd agree to any decision I made.”

“When Beth is older, when she has graduated from high school, I want her to know about her grandparents. Then she can decided what she wants to do.”

She handed Lucy a thick packet.

“My parents' address is on top. The rest is my story. It's my parents' story too. At least what I know of it. Please give it to Beth after graduation.”

She spoke as if the worst had already happened. Lucy struggled to find words, but none came. They sat in silence. Perhaps there was nothing more to say. Lucy started to rise, but Amanda held up a hand.

“Wait. There are things I need to tell you. And something I need to show you."

It was another hour before they emerged from the study and headed up the stairs. Lucy returned a few minutes later and headed back to the kitchen. Amanda followed shortly with a suitcase in her hand.

“I'll be back on Thursday. Greg should be coming home then too.”

Lucy nodded.

For the first time in almost a year, Amanda stood tall. A weight had been lifted. Now it sat on Lucy's shoulders. She had vowed to always be honest with Beth. Now she must break that vow. There are things that no child should know.

Skyla and Beth sat in the kitchen savoring a second piece of birthday cake.

“I wish Harry was my boyfriend. Now that would be a real birthday present.”

“Come on Skyla, we're too young for boyfriends.”

“What are you talking about? You have Rick.”

Beth could not believe her ears.

“Rick? He's just my friend, Skyla. We've been friends forever.”

“So you say. But I bet the two of you will be married some day.”

Beth pretended to vomit.
“Don't be disgusting, Skyla. I'm never getting married.”

“Don't you want to be happy Beth?”

“Yes. And that's why I'm never getting married. It certainly doesn't make my parents happy.“

“Eat your cake, Skyla. Chocolate cake and chocolate frosting. That's happiness.”

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for a new installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Convictions Index

Name That Character

2010-03-27T15:56:00.004-05:00

Already my readers are helping to shape Convictions.

I thought I had planted enough information in earlier chapters to clarify the characters in last week's story. Evidently not. So I'm making some changes to this week's installment.

Changes take time, so I won't be able to post the installment today. It will be posted early tomorrow. Hopefully, with enough information to identify the characters. Please come back to check it out. And as always, I am most grateful for your feedback.

On A Clear Day

2010-03-26T19:21:00.004-05:00

Medicine has it's wonders and I guess that pharmaceuticals are one of them. But sometimes I question it. If the diuretics are reduced, my legs double in size and I can barely draw a breath. Increase them and I'm too dizzy to stand for more than a few minutes. There's more of these wonder drugs, but let's skip the details. Suffice to say that it's a rare day when everything equalizes and I have both the oxygen and the stability to do more than sit.

Today wasn't 100%, but it was close enough for me. How to spend it? Like a kid at the candy store, I checked out my options. Grab the canes and head outside to enjoy some sun. Get Calico to take me out to lunch or for a ride around the town. Stay inside and tackle a project.

Today, the project won. My bedroom hasn't felt truly organized since we've moved in. Being the largest bedroom, it's become the designated dropping spot for items that haven't found a home. So I started weeding, discarding some and finding a home for others. There's still some work to be done, but I'm happy with the progress and celebrating the difference.

Totally Obsessed

2010-03-25T14:51:00.006-05:00

Yesterday I wrote about my obsession with virtual pets. It's not my first obsession, of course. Here's 13 more.

Reading. "Put down that book and go outside to play." was my mother's mantra from the time I was 7 years old. I learned how to sneak a book out of the house and read it while sitting on a swing or perched on a tree branch.
Baking. Probably fueled by my love of sweets. In fourth grade, I won my first blue ribbon at the local fair.
Cryptograms. As a kid, I loved secret codes and was always devising a new one. When our newspaper started presenting a daily cryptogram, I was hooked. Now I have cryptogram software on my computer.
Algebra. Yes, you heard correctly. I was addicted from the first day of class. "If a train leaves Station A traveling at 60mph..." Each solution was a logical triumph, rivaling any runner crossing the finish line. I still use algebra to solve everyday problems.
Needlework. I enjoyed sewing, knitting, crewel and cross stitch from an early age. Interesting,since my mother didn't enjoy any of these. I gained most of my skills from her mother. Guess it must have skipped a generation.
Camping. Not the summer camp kind. I hated all that organized activity. But in adulthood I began camping and hiking in the quietest natural spots I could find. My family did not share this obsession. Occasionally, I'd go with a friend, but most of the time I camped alone. Many people were shocked, but I loved the break from the noise and stress of the everyday world.
Computers. The affair began when I met my first one at a college science fair. It has lasted a lifetime. I love solving problems and writing code. How fortunate to spend my career being paid to play.
Computer Games. Not too surprising, I trust. I fondly recall typing Basic into my home computer to create my first virtual game. Time has not dimmed my enthusiasm. Solitaire, QBz and Penguin Diner are some of my favorites.
Soap Operas. Thankfully, I'm no longer obsessed with these, but at the height of my obsession, I would schedule my activities around my favorite ones.
Graphics. Added since retirement. I can loose myself for hours while creating a graphic image. I have never done well with real life art media, but have much better results with the virtual. I worship the Undo button.
Walking. I hated sports and going to the gym. Exercise was evil incarnate. Then I discovered walking and it became part of my daily life. I did it because I loved it. Weight loss was an unexpected bonus.
TV Medical Shows. This is another retirement interest. I don't get much enjoyment in focusing on my own health problems, but I do love all the medical dramas. House, Private Practice, Grey's Anatomy. All are far more exciting than real life ailments.
Trips to the movie theater were rare events in my youth. I overcompensated as an adult. A daily visit was not unusual. On weekends, I would happily attend both a matinee and an evening show.

And, of course, there are the virtual pets. Hope you'll excuse me now, they're waiting to be fed.

Virtually Obsessed

2010-03-24T14:27:00.005-05:00

My goulash contains a large portion of virtual pet obsession. If you love cute little critters, beware of Superpoke Pets. It is so addictive. I keep repeating "They aren't real. They aren't real." Then I race out to make sure that all my pets have been properly cared for, have plenty of friends and possess all the latest items from the Pet Shop.

Pets have gardens too. They can keep the items they grow or recycle them for coins. Then, of course, the coins are used to buy more goodies at the Pet Shop. I'll admit this loses something in the translation. Only those who have experienced this virtual mania can truly understand.

Today, some of my favorite seeds were discontinued at the Pet Shop. What should I do? To answer the question, I created a spreadsheet of crops and their potential recycle values. I'm even including a link here for my SPP addicted friends.
SPP Crop Values

Yes, I can see a bunch of you shaking your heads in disbelief. But Grandma doesn't care. She's off to play with her pets.

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

Lost In Space

2010-03-23T13:54:00.024-05:00

Where could it be? Not behind the daybed nor in the storage area beneath. Not anywhere on the high bookshelves. Two small kitchen cabinets yield nothing but dishes. The tiny studio's single closet is the only remaining possibility. Trembling with apprehension, she approaches the narrow door. Tentatively, she touches the door handle, then quickly pulls back. She has heard stories. And she believes them. Struggling to control her terror, she approaches again and flings it open.

How silly! There's nothing to fear here. Just floor to ceiling shelves, filled with the accumulation of ten years. The search might take a bit, but nothing to fear at all. Be methodical. Start at the bottom and work up. Begin with that large box. Stuck. Try again. Ah, here it comes.

Avalanche. Tottering shelves hurl their contents. A large brass trophy jettisons from the pinnacle towards her head.

Blackness. Endless blackness. It's what they'd predicted, but it's not frightening. Years of constricting city crowds. Years of claustrophobic living quarters. Gone. She relaxes and drifts away, blissfully lost in the endless space.

Nessa at the Chrysalis Stage is hosting a new meme called Tales on Tuesday. This week's theme is Lost in Space. Hope you'll head on over and check out the other submissions. Or enter your own.

Grandma Tidbits #3

2010-03-22T12:55:00.012-05:00

What do you value most in other people?
Honesty, loyalty and a sense of humor. And close behind these three are creativity and intelligence. Don't want much, do I?

If you could only see black and white except for one color, what color would you choose to see?
Lilac is my favorite color and I love many shades of pink. But I'd choose green in all it's variations, if I could see just one. Perpetual spring. But everything pales next to reality. Glad that I can see them all.

You have a 10 minute speech to give at a high school, what is it about?

Accepting and appreciating yourself. Don't waste time trying to imitate others.Don't focus on "fixing" them either. Embrace your passions and find some humor in your flaws.You'll enjoy life more. And so will the people around you.

Check out Manic Monday for more answers to these questions. Or join in the fun and add your own answers

Lend Me Your Ears

2010-03-21T22:56:00.003-05:00

Anyone who has hung around the goulash pot for very long, knows that Grandma is an American Idol fan. But the show has raised a question for me. What do people hear?

Not the judges. Sometimes their critiques make me wonder if we've listened to the same performance, but I'm not talking about that.. Nor about the public vote, which sent Lacey Brown home, while providing Tim Urban another opportunity to impersonate Tiny Tim. It's the auditions that puzzle me.

Some of the participants can really sing. Some shouldn't give up their day jobs, but they're not all that hard on the ears. Some are outrageously bad and know it, happy with their few minutes of fame. And then there are those who are just as bad, but remain oblivious. They are genuinely surprised and frequently devastated, when they are turned away.

That's puzzling. Why do they perceive their sound as great, rather than grating? Surely they must hear something different. Is it the auditory version of color blindness? Or some form of hallucination? Does an internal translator in the pathways of their brain convert demented cow to divine diva? Is it a more severe form of the common malady that makes your voice sound better in the shower?

As yet, there are no answers. But I ponder.

Convictions - Installment #10

2010-03-20T14:06:00.007-05:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

“Come on, Annie, we'll be late.”

Jake Cantreaux straddled his motorcycle and prepared to yell again.

“Let him come to the door like a proper gentleman”, her mother admonished.

Annie flew out the door without a comment. Jake didn't need to be proper. He just needed to be there. He'd always dated the popular girls. Annie had never had a date. On the first day of their senior year, he'd entered the bookkeeping class and sat at the desk next to her's. He smiled at her, then winked. Nothing more. The second day was a repeat of the first. On the third, he asked her to join him for lunch. Annie did not say no. What girl would?

“Late for what?”

“Can't say. You'll have to wait and see.”

She hopped on and put her arms around his waist. Jake was always surprising her. He had from the start. He looked like a rich kid, but lived in a deteriorating bungalow with his alcoholic father. He worked for the clothes on his back and the bike that he'd lovingly restored. She'd known he was a star athlete, but not that he was an A student. She expected him to win an athletic scholarship and he'd had a couple of offers. But Jake planned on being a CPA and hoped for an academic scholarship. He played the piano and the saxophone. She played the clarinet. Neither had wanted to join the school band, but enjoyed hours of making music together. They enjoyed quiet times. They sat together reading books or strolled along wooded paths without the need to say a word. She hadn't expected the relationship to last. But it had. Of course, it was going to end. Graduation was just two months away. Soon she'd be looking for her first job and he'd be leaving for college. He'd had several offers, but hadn't made a decision. All were hours away from this little town.

She wondered where they were going. They passed the town boundaries and headed into the countryside. The only thing in this direction was their river spot. Yes, that was it. Late for the river? Jake was such a tease. But Annie didn't care, she loved to be alone with him. He turned off the road onto a narrow path that led into the woods. He slowed the cycle, carefully negotiating obstacles along the pathway. Finally it opened into the clearing. He helped her off and took her hand, heading towards the large flat rock that overlooked the river. They sat for a few moments in silence. Annie began to worry. Was he going to end it here? Say goodbye before college forced the issue? She struggled to stay calm.

Jake pulled an envelope out of his pocket, removed a letter and handed it to her.

Dear Mr. Cantreau:
Cloughton University is pleased to offer you a position in it's freshman class with a full academic scholarship . . .

“Oh Jake, that's wonderful. Your first choice.”

She was truly pleased for him and she didn't let her smile falter. But the joy left her eyes as she thought about him leaving.

“It's what I'd hoped for. At least part of what I'd hoped for.”

He paused a moment then hung his head, looking uncharacteristically shy.

“It's so far away, Annie, and I don't want to leave you. You're the one I want to spend my life with.”

He pulled a small box from his pocket. “I wish it could be more. Marry me, Annie. I'll make you proud. I'll work hard for you. Someday I'll give you all the things you deserve.”

The diamond was tiny, but to Annie there was none more beautiful. Words stuck in her throat. She nodded her head and thew her arms around his neck.

Her parents said they were far too young. If this was love, they reasoned, it would last while Jake was away at college. Annie turned a deaf ear to their pleas. They graduated in June and were married in July, a few days after Annie's eighteenth birthday. By August, they were living in a tiny apartment near the university. They didn't need much space. An air mattress substituted for a bed. A plastic deck table and chairs with a huge end-of-season discount had been purchased to create a dining/study area. Annie found an entry level bookkeeping position. Jake secured a part time delivery job at a local pizza parlor. Their new life was busy, but they cherished the moments spent together. They restored the sadly neglected apartment and gradually expanded its furnishings. Four years flew by. A month before graduation, Jake was hired by a local accounting firm. In two years he would be eligible to take the CPA certification exam.

With two incomes, Annie was hopeful that they would move to a larger apartment.

“If we get a bigger apartment, we'll spend more money. If we stay here, we could save my income. By the time I pass the CPA, we could have a home. Just think of it, Annie, a permanent place for us. One where we can raise our children.”

Any temptation to argue vanished. Annie had never aspired to a career. She had only wanted to be a wife and mother.

Jake began to make changes. One Saturday evening, he announced that they would attend services at Cloughton Baptist the following day. A couple of partners at the firm were members and Jake wanted to join. He explained that it was part of the image he needed to project. A CPA should be seen as an honest and upstanding citizen. Participation in a local church was a great way to achieve this.

“Don't worry, he grinned. There will still be time for our usual Sunday morning activities.”

The comment brought a blush to her cheek, but helped assure her that nothing had really changed.

Jake started introducing himself as Jacques and asked her to use it as well. He began calling her Bethany. Annie had always been his special nickname for her. She mourned the loss, but chided herself at the same time. He wanted to succeed in his career and she would support him.

Jacques passed his certification exam on the first try. At last they would have a home of their own. But none of the ones in their price range satisfied him.

“We need to consider my image. If we save for one more year, we can afford a home in a better neighborhood.”

It had taken two years, but they finally got the house. Jacques had risen in the firm, recognized for his genius in estate planning. Three other members of the firm lived on the same street. Annie liked the house, although she would have been happy with a more modest dwelling. Still, it would be a wonderful place to raise their children.

Five years later, Bethany Cantreaux stood at the window looking out at the backyard. A spacious patio was surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and flowers. No toys or small footprints marred it's glorious perfection. Bethany and Jacques had conscientiously practiced birth control from the day that they were married. When they had moved into their home, they agreed that it was time to start their family. They tried unsuccessfully for over two years. Her OB/GYN recommended a complete fertility workup, but Jacques had refused.

“If the Lord wills it, Bethany, we will have a child.”

Bethany had enjoyed the church services, but Jacques had not stopped there. He attended religious classes in the evening and joined several committees. Within two years, he became a church deacon. He no longer spoke of his image. He quoted Biblical verses and advised her of the Lord's will. As if she needed a translator. What she needed was her husband and something to fill her days. Jacques had asked her to stop working and Beth hadn't minded. She'd spent hours planting and tending flowers. Jacques had not like the riotous variety and hired a gardener. She spent time cleaning and decorating the large house. Jacques hired a maid and a designer. She took gourmet cooking classes and prepared exquisite meals. Jacques added a cook to their staff. He did not want his wife performing servile labor, he explained. Bored and unhappy, she searched for a way to fill her days.

Finally, she'd found it. That evening she shared the news with Jacques. Their first child would be born in seven months. With a tenderness she thought he had forgotten, Jacques held her close. “Oh, Annie. How wonderful.” A single tear trickled down his cheek. Her heart raced. This child was going to be the answer. A baby would restore joy and purpose to her life. And, hopefully, it would soften the righteousness that threatened to encase her father.

The pregnancy was easy and an ultrasound predicted a healthy baby girl. Jacques had even let her choose their little girl's name. She spent hours perusing baby name books. She made a choice, but didn't share it. A few months later, the child performed her first act of defiance and appeared a month early. “Perfectly healthy”, the doctor assured them. Bethany was overjoyed. Jacques' happiness matched her own.

“Oh Annie, I love her so much.”

She hugged the baby close and looked up at Jacques.

“Loveable. That's what her name means, Jake. Our little girl's name is Amanda."

Want to help shape the story? Read this.

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for a new installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.

Friday Skies #4

2010-03-19T06:40:00.004-05:00

Want to see more sky photos?

The One That Got Away

2010-03-18T00:42:00.004-05:00

On St. Patrick's Eve, my granddaughter made a leprechaun trap.
This is the fourth year she's tried and once again the little
guy has escaped, leaving a trail of gold glitter and green candy.
Undaunted, she has already begun planning a new and improved
trap for next year.

Her adventures have provided the inspiration for today's list.

Things that can be lost or hard to catch:

time,
breath,
temper,
friends,
thoughts,
money,
interest,
health,
perspective,
respect,
a break,
keys
and as my granddaughter would tell you, a leprechaun.

A Day For Green

2010-03-17T08:09:00.003-05:00

For more pics, hop on over to Wordless Wednesday.

In Character

2010-03-16T14:31:00.002-05:00

Since beginning Convictions, I've learned how easily characters take on a life of their own. Cassandra, for example, was never intended to appear in more than one chapter. I envisioned her as a pretty bad character, perhaps even running a drug operation from Redemption House. Turns out she's a bit naughty, but has a good heart.

There are a number of minor characters in the book. Some could be seen once and disappear. Some could be developed more. I thought it would be fun to let readers give some input on a few of these characters. So I'm going to start posting a story character once a week and ask for your thoughts.

What, if anything, would you like to know about this character?

What type of person do you think they are?

What kind of interactions should they have with the main characters?

Today's character is Beth's parole officer, Jane Watkins. She has only appeared once – in Installment #7. Beth has weekly parole visits. Should we see more of Officer Watkins? Does she have a story we'd like to hear?

Let me know your thoughts. Sorry, no prizes. But if I use your idea, I will give you credit at the end of a Convictions installment. Here's your chance to shape the story.

Grandma Tidbits #2

2010-03-15T12:34:00.004-05:00

How did you decide to live where you do?

I moved south to Atlanta thirteen years ago. I was tired of cold weather and Atlanta seemed perfect. It has four distinct seasons, but much less of the cooler weather. The Olympics had spawned a lot of new technical jobs and employers competed to hire technically competent employees. It was the perfect combination. Last summer, we moved to Memphis. It's still a warm climate, with better air quality and a lower cost of living. We're enjoying the smaller city and a lot less traffic.

Do you like risks, or do you avoid them? What major risks have you taken in your life?
Depends on the type of risk. You wouldn't catch me playing russian roulette or investing in high risk stocks. I prefer a calculated risk where my own efforts will strongly influence the outcome.

I've made three major relocations in my life, one as the single parent of a small child. It takes a fair amount of courage to pick up and move 400 miles away from family and friends. My career success made the risk worthwhile.

Currently, I am nine chapters into writing my first novel, Convictions. I post a chapter each week. So, I risk a bit of egg on my face, if I don't finish writing it. But I don't plan to let that happen..

If you had to choose, which could you live without: TV, the internet, a telephone or friends?
Easy, I'd dump the TV. I can still watch shows from my computer. I'd even ditch the telephone. I'd rather communicate via e-mail than on the phone.

Check out Manic Monday for more answers to these questions. Or join in the fun and add your own answers

Un-a-mused

2010-03-14T21:47:00.002-05:00

How difficult can it be to write a few words in a blog? Most days, it's not difficult at all. But sometimes I struggle a bit. Then there's today. I've struggled a lot. And still nothing inspires me. How can that happen in a world filled with so many interesting things? If I had any theories, I'd write them here and call it a day. Alas, I have none. I've hoped for a muse. Where is she? Perhaps tomorrow. For now I remain un-a-mused.

Convictions - Installment #9

2010-03-13T12:36:00.014-06:00

New to Convictions?
Full story: Index
Quick Story: In a Nutshell

After supper, Beth had cleared the dining tables and filled the sink with glasses, letting them soak while she began her preparations for the next day. Grabbing a trash bag, she'd hurried to the storeroom where she identified and discarded the rotting potatoes. Returning to the kitchen, she'd removed the spoiled vegetables from the refrigerator and added them to the trash bag. She gave the interior a quick wipe. No time for anything more thorough, but it was an improvement Back in the storage room, she sorted the remaining potatoes by size. Larger ones could be baked for another meal. The smallest would become home fries for tomorrow's breakfast. She took them to the kitchen along with several large cans of chunk tuna.
. . .

Over the next two hours, she alternated between cleaning and food preparation, refusing to acknowledge the exhaustion that was threatening to overtake her. She had planned a breakfast of scrambled eggs, home fries and french toast. Gran had always used older bread to make french toast, explaining that it's dryness helped absorb liquids better than fresh. Beth planned to use that trick with the last loaves of stale bread, saving the fresh for sandwiches. She added white sugar, cinnamon and the small box of brown sugar to a pot, filled it with water and set it on a back burner to simmer. It would make an inexpensive, but tasty, syrup for the french toast. She combined staples from the storeroom with the chocolate pudding and drink mix to create a rich brownie batter. She filled pans and set them in the oven to bake. Tuna salad was next. The tuna was packed in heavy oil and looked more like flakes than chunks. Beth drained and rinsed it, assessing the quantity. Not as much as she'd hoped for and she'd used every can in the storeroom. Still, mixed with finely chopped veggies and stacked on the remaining greens, it would make an adequate sandwich.

“Hey, girl. I brought your things. It's almost time for lights out. I thought ...”

Cassandra stopped and looked around. To the left of the sink, a pile of clean dishes sat air drying. More filled the sink and others waited on the counter at the right. The scent of chocolate filled the room and steam drifted from a pot on the stove. Beth sat at a work table, chopping onions and celery.

“Didn't they finish the dishes?”

“They?”

“Margaret didn't assign anyone to clean?“

“No. And she said that Dorinda wasn't here anymore.”

“Girl has no sense. Smoking a joint on the first day out. What kind of fool is she?”

“A fool that could have been helping me clean.”

“Someone should be helping. I've got to leave for lights out. But as soon as folks are sleeping, I'll be back.”

Exhausted, Beth could barely nod her thanks.

She picked up the crate and headed to the door that Cassandra had pointed out earlier. It opened into a narrow hallway with three doors. The first held two faded green chairs, separated by an end table. A small TV sat in one corner on an overturned crate. A bathroom came next. Cramped, but private. The third room was the largest and held a twin bed, bureau, desk and empty bookcase. A porthole style window gave a glimpse of the outside. It didn't fit with the long, slender panes that covered the rest of the building. She wondered about it's origin, but had no complaint. Unlike the others, it did not have a single bar. A small clock radio sat on the stand. Probably added to help the cook awake early. Still, it would provide a source for music. She'd have to find a station later. A slender closet was more than adequate for her scant belongings. Though tired, the quick tour had lifted her spirits. She envisioned spending time alone there, then grimly reflected that she was apt to have little spare time. Jolted back to reality, she returned to the kitchen.

She finished the tuna salad and had started prepping the home fries, when Cassandra returned with three other residents. She assigned one to the dishes and sent the others to clean and prepare the dining room for the morning's service.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Find lunch bags and set forty-one of them on the counter over there. Get the apples we bought. Wash them and put one in each bag. Then come back and help me with these potatoes.

Beth removed the brownies from the oven and left them to cool. The syrup had thickened and she turned off the flame beneath it. Cassandra joined her in preparing the potatoes. Soon the dishes were washed and the dining area was ready for the morning. Beth thanked her helpers and Cassandra cautioned them to be very quiet when returning to the living area. Cassandra stayed and helped Beth make small packs of carrot sticks for the lunch bags. Beth cut the cooled brownies and together they wrapped enough to fill the lunch bags. Cassandra eyed them longingly.

“Are you going to use the rest of those brownies for our lunch?”

“Yes, but there seem to be a few extras.”

Beth offered one to Cassandra and took one for herself. They sat for a minute, quietly enjoying the treat. When Cassandra left, Beth took a quick shower and headed to bed.

She lay back in bed and watched light streaming through her window. She was tired, but wanted to savor the moment. For the first time in over fifteen years, she would sleep in privacy.

Five hours of sleep was not nearly enough, but Beth was energized by her plans for the day. She started coffee, assembled sandwiches and put french toast into the oven to bake. Soon the home fries were sizzling and brown. When she heard voices in the dining room, she started the eggs. Before the service had ended, Cassandra arrived to help.

It occurred to Beth that Cassandra had missed the previous evening's service.

“Won't you get in trouble?”

“Don't you worry about that, I'm covered.”

There was no time to say more.

This time the meal was not greeted with silence. Oohs of appreciation filled the room as the steaming platters were placed on the tables. Beth was grateful for an opportunity to sit. There was lots to do today. And the kitchen and dining area would need to be cleaned before she began. She finished her breakfast and left for the kitchen. Cassandra also rose and Beth saw her head to the table where Margaret and Pastor Bob sat. Soon residents came in for their lunches and she was pleasantly surprised to see many carrying trays of emptied dishes. She chatted with residents as she distributed the lunches. Their outpouring of appreciation gave her renewed energy.

A sudden chill came over the room. She looked up to see Lord's Servant Margaret's icy stare.

“Kelly and Judith have been assigned to cleanup duties. It has also been decided that Judith will work with you as a full time assistant. Lord's Servant Cassandra will be supervising you.”

Her tone made it clear that she did not approve of this decision. Beth dared do no more than nod before Margaret turned and left. She had no desire to fuel Margaret's hostility.

Cassandra brought an envelope from Pastor Bob with the day's budget. They agreed to meet in an hour. Beth wanted to visit the food distribution center before heading to the grocery store. While the kitchen was cleaned, she made enough dough for a dozen loaves of bread. She had found both whole wheat and rye flours in the storeroom. If she could get a steady supply from the food distribution center, it could help to stretch her budget and provide better quality bread. She left the bread to rise and gave Judith instructions to clean the storage room.

The sun was shining as they headed towards the distribution center and Beth's spirits were high. Still, there was a nagging question.

“How did you manage it?”

“Manage what?”

“Manage to get me the job. And a full time assistant too.”

"I reasoned with Pastor Bob."

"You reasoned?"

“Pastor Bob is just a man, honey. And men have big appetites. Now Pastor Bob has a real fondness for brown sugar. I just helped him see how he could satisfy that appetite.”

She paused and smiled coquettishly. “If you know what I mean.”

Beth knew. She stopped walking.

“Oh no, Cassandra. I never wanted you to do that.”

“It's not the first time. Anyway, it's no big deal. Hardly took any time at all.“

She gave a mischievous grin, winked and resumed walking. Beth remained where she stood, experiencing a mixture of surprise, dismay and amusement.

This time, she had to call for Cassandra to wait.

Want to read more? Check back next Saturday for a new installment.

Don't forget to head over to the Weekend Writers' Retreat to enjoy submissions from more authors.