Through an Author's Eyes - Part 2

Good morning FFFs,

It's a lovely rainy morning here. I woke to the soft patter of raindrops on the roof above my head. I don't know about you, but I like quiet summer rain. No big storms, just gentle rain.

Anyway, it's been another busy week, though not quite like last week. I did have to do some more rearranging of parts and editing and changing of "Finding Joy" though. It just wasn't fitting right. Now it is. I don't think I'll reach the end of it today. Oh, well. I'm almost done. I think.

I worked on designing the real cover for "Dylan's Story." I can't wait to show it to you all! Then I've been working on the final parts of the Bike Trip book. I'm waiting for two pictures, have to design one last page or two, and then I can upload it! After working on this book for 2 years, I'm ready to be done with it.

Let's see, did I do anything else of interest? Oh, yes, I designed my template for a 4 x 6 book. :) Yep, I'm going to publish some small Christmas books! I have so many Christmas stories (I usually write 1-3 each year) that I wanted to publish them. But I didn't want to just do them in a regular book with lots of stories. Small books sounded fun. So, when I heard that someone else did a book that small, I knew I was going to too. I could end up with 6 or more Christmas books this year. Won't that be fun? I love Christmas stories! Do you?

Okay, that's that. Here's the next part of the story. Enjoy. :) And have a wonderful 4th of July! Do you have any plans?

Through an Author's Eyes

Part 2

    “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the name of the town before. It sounds a bit strange.”
    Savanna laughed. “Yep, but if you think that one’s amusing, what will you say when we go to Boring, which is the largest town around. Or to Cats Claw or Cattleton.”
    “I suppose,” Annette began slowly, “if there are a lot of ranches around, Cattleton would fit. But Cats Claw? And Boring?” Stopping in her tracks, Annette turned slowly. “There really isn’t a town called Boring, is there?” Disbelief filled her voice.
    “Yep.”
    “Let’s just get my luggage. I’ll try to process the names as I go. Boring? Is it really dull in that town?”
    Tucking her thumb in the shoulder strap of her purse, Savanna shook her head. “Nope. But I like Gone better. Here’s the luggage claim.”
    It took only a few minutes for Annette to spot her luggage and haul both suitcases off the conveyer. Thankful that the cases had wheels, the girls pulled them along through the busy airport and out into the bright sunlight of early afternoon.
    Once settled in the car, Savanna pulled out her cell phone and pressed a number. “Hi, Dad. I got her. . . . Yep. . . . We’re about to head out now. We might stop in Gone . . .” She chuckled into the phone. “Yes, that’s what I was thinking. Got to start right, you know.” There was a moment of silence before she said, “All right. Thanks. See you soon. Bye!”

    Before long the two girls were driving down the highway chattering and laughing.
    “So, what’s the population of these remarkably named towns?” questioned Annette.
    “I can’t remember what Boring and Gone are. Cats Claw is sixty-three, if I remember right, and Cattleton is–” Savannah wrinkled her nose in thought though her eyes never left the highway. “I think it’s around eighty, but we can ask Dad or Levi. They’d know. At least Levi should, he drives there often enough.”
    “Oh?”
    “Uh huh. His girl lives there. Her name’s Jaina Forthright. I have a feeling there’s going to be a purposal before very long. Maybe while you’re here.”
    Annette gave a little squeal of excitement. “I’d love that! I was thinking of having two of my characters, I don’t don’t know who yet, get engaged in my story, and it would be so much fun if there was one happening in real life!”
    “What’s your story about?”
    “It’s a girl who goes to live with some friends for the summer while her dad, he’s in the military, though I don’t know what branch, is stationed overseas. Her mom is with him. There in some country like Japan or something like that. Anyway,” Annette shifted a little in her seat and tucked her right foot up under her left leg, “I’m sort of basing what happens in it, off of what I do out here. Only I’m changing the names, of course. But I don’t know if I’ll change the town names. They are so unique.”
    “Does that mean we’ll have to have lots of adventures?”
    Annette laughed a little. “Well, I don’t want any house or barn fires, I’m not fond of kidnapping, and I don’t really want to end up in the hospital with a broken bone. Anything else, I might be up for.”
    “Rattlesnakes? Stampedes? Cattle rustlers?” Savanna teased. “Which would you prefer?”
    “None. Couldn’t we have something like getting lost for a little while when we drive somewhere, or maybe finding an old house or cabin somewhere that we could explore? Or maybe–” Annette let her sentence remain unfinished as she stared ahead at the landscape with its towering mountain peaks in the distance, the rolling hills before them dotted here and there with cattle, the long stretch of road which rounded a curve and disappeared; the trees, the flowers, the grandeur of it all left her speechless.
    Somehow Savanna sensed she was taking in the scene and after a minute said softly, “Paint it for me.”
    Reaching behind the driver’s seat, but still keeping her eyes on the beauty before her, Annette fumbled for a moment in her carry-on before pulling out NEO. Hardly looking at her fingers as they settled on the key pad, she began to write.

*

    The sky was blue, the sort of blue that speaks of baby boys and robin’s eggs, and not a cloud was to be seen. The mountains, peak after peak, rose into the sky, some with snow still in crevices, others only a dusty purple. From the distance it was hard to distinguish the treelines on the mountains. Only the patches of darker color indicated where they might be. Below the mountains were the grazing grounds of cattle. Green and lush, carpeted in places with vibrant colors which could only be flowers, the pastures covered the rolling hills. Right through the middle of the pasture lands, winding like a gray ribbon up and down and around the hills, enclosed on either side by wire fences was the road. It was empty at the moment except for their car. It was the sole motor occupant following the asphalt road wherever it might lead.

*

    Letting out a sigh, Savanna spared a glance at her cousin. “Wow! Dad has read your other books and says he’s looking forward to seeing how you describe the great west.”
    Turning her writing device off, Annette leaned back in her seat and relaxed. “I just write what I see.”
    The girls fell into a comfortable silence. Finally Annette, who had fallen into a doze, roused to hear Savanna say, “There’s the city limit of Gone.”
    After blinking a moment at the afternoon sun, Annette focused her attention on a green sign coming closer. Sure enough there it was: Gone Ridin.’ She shook her head. However did people come up with names for their towns?
    The town began to pop up on either side, first a house, then two, a gas station, more houses, and before long they were driving down the main street.

What's the strangest town name you've ever heard?

Do you like writing descriptions?

What adventure would you like to experience?

Through an Author's Eyes - Part 1

Happy Friday FFF,

Wait! Don't tell me it's Friday. It can't be Friday. It just was Friday and we cleaned the house. (We clean house on Fridays. Anyone else do it then too?) Not enough days have gone by for it to be Friday again. Nope. Not possible. I refuse to believe it. It should be Wednesday. That's it. It's Wednesday. Then what on earth am I doing get a post ready? Uh, maybe because I'm a little unsure. If by some chance it did happen to be Friday, I'd hate to spoil my record and cause wonderment, and maybe confusion among my readers. Yet, if it's NOT Friday, . . .

Oh, dear. This is too confusing for my brain. Either it is Friday or it isn't.

This week has absolutely flown by! And it wasn't because I was crazy busy either. In fact I tried to cut back on things so I wasn't rushing around with my brain here, there, and everywhere. Let me see. What did I accomplish?

I am almost finished with this Bike Trip book I've been working on for about 2 years. I'm just waiting for Grandpa to return some checked pages, and get some information from him and one of my uncles. Then I can put all the pages together and attempt to upload the HUGE file. It's going to be crazy.

I've been working on formatting "Dylan's Story" and playing around with the mock cover again. Hopefully soon I'll actually start work on the real cover.

Oh, I received 10 NEOs in the mail and have shipped 2 off already. :) The others are waiting to be mailed. It is so fun sending NEOs to other writers. I can't wait to hear how they like them. :) Do you have a NEO? Have you ever wanted to try one?

And I have been writing. I heard back from a friend about a certain thing for "Finding Joy" so know I can write it and make it real. :) When will this story be finished? I wish I knew. Right now, if I figured correctly, the story is at 83k words. And I'm not at the end yet. It could be one of those really, really long books. Would you mind?

Okay, enough about me. Here's the start of a new story. If you are a writer, you might find some things amusing. If you are not a writer, you may still find some things amusing. But I don't know if this story stays interesting. My mom doesn't think so. I guess I'll let you read it and decide. Of course you only get some of it each week. (It's long.) So, enjoy.

Through an Author’s Eyes

    Settling back into her seat, Annette Jasper let her fingers lightly brush the keys on her NEO as she looked out her window at the clouds below her. When her index fingers found the small raised dots they were accustomed to rest on, she glanced down at the small screen with its blinking curser. She needed a story.

    After a look at the other passengers of the airplane, she began to type. She would write a story about her own trip, only she would change things. Instead of going to visit her cousins because her parents were taking an month long trip to Europe for business, her main character would . . .

    Slowly Annette tapped a finger on the portable, battery-operated typewriter she loved using. A frown creased her forehead.

    “Having trouble there?”

    Turning her head quickly, Annette smiled involuntarily at the older gentleman with iron gray hair who sat one seat away from her with his newspaper.

    “Not really. I’m just trying to decide something for a story I’m writing.”

    The older man folded his paper and looked interested. “What do you have so far?”

    “Not much,” Annette admitted. “I know my main character is going to stay at a ranch in the Rockies, or near the Rockies, and she’s never been there before. I just don’t know why she is going there.”

    “To visit a friend?”

    “Maybe.”

    “How old is she? Does she have parents? Is this a modern story?”

    “Yes, it’s modern; she’s actually traveling by airplane. She has parents, but I don’t know where they are. And I think she’s about eighteen or nineteen.”

    Nodding, the gentleman sat in thoughtful silence for a few minutes before asking, “What does she do when she gets there?”

    At that Annette laughed a little. “I’m not sure. I’m going out to a ranch to visit my cousins and I’ve never been there. I thought it would be fun to write about my adventures, only change it so it wasn’t really me.”

    “Quite a clever idea. So, why aren’t your parents traveling with you?” The man seemed genuinely interested.

    “They are heading to Europe on a business trip.”

    “Ah, well, I suppose your character’s father could be in the military and be stationed in someplace, say–Japan, and was able to take his wife with him. However, your MC wanted something different–”

    “And had a friend who invited her to spend a month or so with her.”

    “Excellent idea!”

    A quick glance showed her that it had been more than four minutes and her NEO had turned off. In a matter of seconds it was back on, and she began typing. At first her fingers were slow, but they seemed to have only been warming up, for in no time they were flying over the keys and the story began to take shape.

*

    Kate pressed her face closer to the window of the plane and stared out. It was strange to see the clouds from the top instead of from underneath. No matter how many times she had flown, and with her father being in the military, it had been quite a lot, she never tired of watching the clouds or the distant ground, if the day was clear. Someday she would like to fly. . . .

*

    Annette gave a sigh of satisfaction as she finished rereading the start to her story. Hopefully she could keep adding to it and her blog readers would enjoy it.

    “Finish it?”

    Smiling at her new friend, she nodded. “At least what I could write now. Thanks for your help.”

    “Glad to do it.”

    “Are you an author?” Annette asked, zipping NEO into its protective cover.

    The man smiled. “Well, yes, in a way. I used to write for magazines and literary newspapers. I’ve tried my hand at a few novels for my grandkids, but I didn’t think they’d be of interest to any publishing house, so I just used CreateSpace to print some copies.”

    “Oh, that’s what I use!” Annette exclaimed.

    “So, you’re published already, are you?”

    After that Annette had no time to wonder what her parents were doing or what her cousins would be like, for she was busy swapping publishing stories with the older gentleman, and talking about her other books and his books. It seemed to her that their destination was reached in record time.

    As she gathered her things together and moved into the aisle, she tucked her new friend’s business card into a safe pocket of her carry-on. They had exchanged cards and the older man had said he was hoping he would get to read the finished story of her visit.

    “It is kind of funny,” she thought, moving slowly along in the rush of people disembarking, “to write a fictional story about my real adventures. I wonder if there will even be anything worth writing about. Perhaps there will be a mystery we can solve or . . . something. I think I’d rather not deal with bad guys or disasters. Huh, why do we authors like to make those things happen in books when we’d hate to face them in real life?”

    “Annette! Over here!”

    Pulled from her thoughts, Annette spotted her cousin and waved a greeting as she made her way over to her. “Savanna!”

    The two girls embraced warmly. Though Annette had never seen her youngest three cousins, she had met the oldest two when she was about five, she only vaguely remembered Levi. But she had spent a week with Savanna at a conference two months ago and they had become fast friends. When everything had worked for Annette to stay at her aunt and uncle’s out west, the two cousins had been thrilled.

    “Let’s get your luggage and get going,” Savanna said. “It’s still over an hour until we reach Gone."

    “What?”

    “Gone. Our town. Or at least the town that’s the closet to us and the airport. Actually its real name is Gone Ridin’, but everyone calls it Gone. It’s not very big.”

What is the most interesting town name you've heard?

Have you ever gone to spend a few weeks alone with relatives?

If you could go anywhere in the US, where would you go?

The Emancipation . . . - Part 5

Good morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,

What a week! I didn't go anywhere except to church on Sunday. No one came over, we didn't babysit any nieces or nephews, but still, it was a bit crazy. Why?

Well, Saturday wasn't too bad, and Sunday I worked in the nursery and then got to read an entire book in the afternoon, so that was nice. Then came Monday.

The 3-2-1 Write! blog party started Monday morning. And, while it wasn't crazy busy, it did mean I had to keep an eye on things, read all the other author's posts, and answer comments and things, while also doing other stuff.

Tuesday was a fairly slow day at the party. Not many comments or things. So I decided to see if I could find an image that looked like "Dylan" in my story. Do you have any idea how long that could take? A LONG time. I ended up with a couple possibilities and decided to just play around and see if any would work. My plan was to find a picture and then get someone else to do the cover. Think again. I started trying a few things. The first one was "blah". Not going to use that. Tried a different picture and a different background. Within fifteen minutes I had a mock cover! And it's been approved by at least three other people. Next I worked on an idea for "Finding Joy." You see, while searching for "Dylan" I found "Paige" from "Finding Joy." (Could someone please tell me while a woman showed up on a page when I was searching for 'boys'?) It had to have been my Heavenly Father's blessing. Again, 15-20 minutes later, the mock cover for that book was done. Now I just have to finish writing the book!

So, my brain was wanting to create the real covers, but I was busy on Wednesday with more party stuff as things picked up. I also decided to get myself a second NEO so I'd have a backup. And I thought I'd offer to get any others one as well.

Yesterday was the end of the party with winners announced and prizes given out. I had to send several wrap-up emails to all the authors who helped host the party. Then I was doing this and that, and my brain wanted to do some other things, and I wanted to write "Finding Joy" but I'm waiting to hear back from someone about something that I know nothing about, and I didn't, so I didn't write, and my brain kept going on and on kind of like this sentence which really should stop as you most likely have already given up.

Yep, it's been a busy week. :)

But now maybe you can enjoy the last part of this story. :) I'd love to know your final thoughts on it. And come back next week because I'm hoping to start posting my "Author" story. (It has no name yet and it isn't finished, but . . . When has that stopped me?) I probably wouldn't have made this first part so long except that I was told this is what several people read. So . . . ;)

The Emancipation of

Chester Reginald Donavan; Esquire

Part 5

    That night Chester didn’t sleep well. He kept waking up. He had been so tired and exhausted the night before that he hadn’t noticed the hard ground nor how cold his nose got. Now it was different. If he had had his iPhone, things would have been better, he assured himself, not once thinking that he might not be able to get reception way out there in the middle of nowhere. If he had his iPhone he could have sent out a message on Facebook or Twitter that he and the little E-bay man were lost and where they were. But just where were they? Chester had no idea and finally fell asleep wondering.

    The following day found Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., restless and completely out of sorts. He had never had to rely on his own creativity when he was bored, and he found it too much work to try now. Finally when the afternoon had come the little E-bay man suggested they try to figure out just where they were using their compasses and maps. Chester agreed reluctantly.
    When evening came, the little E-bay man began to point out the constellations to his companion, and Chester, much to his own astonishment, found this to be very fascinating, and it was quite late before they turned in.
    For three more days the two companions busied themselves with learning all they could about living out in the wild. It was really the little E-bay man who started it, and he was the teacher, for he had grown up loving things of this sort. Chester, having never thought about them before, found them to hold an almost irresistible fascination for his quick brain. Before long he had forgotten his missing iPhone and even the fact that the day for his great test as a lawyer was fast approaching while he remained stuck in the mountain wilderness. He grew eager to test and try the things his companion told him about and didn’t even notice that the days were growing colder and shorter.
    It was the fifth night after that memorable one of his tent collapsing that Chester and the little E-bay man were sitting beside their camp fire gazing into the flames.
    “You know,” Chester remarked, “I’ll be sad when this trip is over. I never knew that the real world was so interesting. I’ve always lived in the world of computer games, fast food, TV, internet, fancy cars and iPhones.” He added the last with a laugh. “I always thought everything else was dull and worthless. I’m beginning to see things from a new perspective.”
    “Good. Do you think you’ll want to go on another camping trip?”
    “Absolutely!” Chester was enthusiastic and for several minutes talked about what he had learned. “But you know,” he added quietly after a little while of silence, “I think the thing that has made the biggest impression on me is what you said that first day about a designer making everything. I’m not sure I buy into the creation account yet, but I’m going to do some serious studying.”
    The little E-bay man was silent, and for several more minutes they sat thus, each busy with his own thoughts.
    At last Chester spoke again. “Hey, E-bay, look at those clouds over in the north west. Think they mean anything?”
    Turning around, the little E-bay man studied the bank of clouds for a minute before saying, “It looks like snow.”
    “Really! That ought to make things interesting. Do you think it will be a lot or just a dusting like the peaks over there got this morning?”
    His companion shrugged. “That’s one thing I can’t say for sure. Hopefully it will just be a dusting. But what say we turn in?”

    When Chester crawled out of his tent the next morning, he discovered a dusting of snow had fallen during the night and the sky was overcast. The distant peaks were nearly white though the valley below them was still golden brown. Chester got the fire going and was fixing breakfast when the little E-bay man emerged from his tent.
    “See, I’m getting the hang of this camping out stuff,” Chester laughed. “Another few days and I’ll be an expert. Well,” he admitted as the little E-bay man gave a snort. “Okay, not quite, but it’s an improvement.”
    To this his companion agreed, and they began to partake of the hot food. Suddenly the little E-bay man paused and cocked his head as though listening. Chester listened too and thought he could hear voices. Was it his imagination or was a rescue party really coming? The two men were on their feet, eyes searching for signs of other humans. At last with a shout, Chester pointed to the valley in the distance. There indeed was a group heading their way!
    “Come on,” the little E-bay man ordered. “Let’s get this camp packed up so we can leave. I think a storm might be on its way.”
    With no more words, the two men began a rapid packing up of their gear. But when Chester came to take down his tent,
    “E-bay!” he hollered, “How in the world do you get these stake things out of the ground? What did you do, cement them in?”
    Both men chuckled as E-bay showed Chester the easiest way to pull out a stake, and then helped him fold and pack his tent.
    “I hope I can set it up without the instructions next time. If I can’t, I’ll be calling you up, E-bay.”
    “On that iPhone of yours no doubt.”
    “Why of course. And I was thinking of checking on E-bay for a warm jacket.”

    By the time the rescue party reached the two lost campers, they were packed and ready to go. The Park rangers were greatly relieved to find neither one injured and set off at once, for a snow storm was blowing in.

Do you think Chester went hiking again?

Did you attend the party this week?

Will you be back next week?

The Emancipation . . . - Part 4 and an Invitation

Good morning,

I'm not sure if anyone is reading this story or not (except perhaps Christian), but I don't have anything new to post. So if you don't like it, well you can wait until this story is over and see what I post then. I don't know what I'll post next.

This week is disappearing quickly. The kids went home Sunday late afternoon, and I've actually gotten 1,000 words written each day so far. I've also been working on another project. In fact, here is your invitation!

We have great prizes, lots of information, and fun! I hope you'll come join us.

Now I'll let you get to reading. If you are even interested in this story.

The Emancipation of

Chester Reginald Donavan; Esquire

Part 4 

     “Stay calm and let me have a look at this mess. You sure did manage--” but the little E-bay man left the rest unfinished, and propping up his flashlight where it would do the most good, set about trying to free his captive companion. This was no easy task, for in his twisting and turning search for his flashlight, Chester had unknowingly rolled over the front zipper thus trapping himself inside. It was with great difficulty that he was at last coaxed into rolling back and that only after a fire had been built which gave added light to the rescuer’s efforts. It was a good forty minutes before Chester was at last standing in the open, a shivering and shaking figure.
    “Here, take this coat and go sit by the fire while I set this back up.” The little man gave Chester a gentle shove towards the bright blaze and turned back to the tent. “Why, where are all your stakes?” he exclaimed in astonishment.
    “I d-didn’t think I’d n-need them all,” admitted Chester, teeth chattering from cold. “And I hit m-my thumb so m-many times, I thought it w-wasn’t w-worth it,” he added to justify his actions or lack of them.
    With a shake of his head, the other man went to work and in short order had the tent up and properly staked and had found the missing flashlight. “Now,” he asked coming over to the fire, “do you think you can go to sleep again? The tent is set up and there are still several hours before daylight comes.” He yawned. “And I for one could use some more shut eye.”
    “I think I can if you are sure it won’t fall again?”
    “I’m sure.”
    “I think I’ll take my flashlight into my sleeping bag this time. Just in case.”

    For several hours Chester lay rigid and stiff in his sleeping bag inside his tent. He was wide awake. Never in all his thirty-one years of life had he ever slept outside separated from the elements by only a nylon tent. Every sound that came through the thin wall seemed to his ears to be as loud as the train near his house. But this was the wilderness! This was an untamed mountainside miles from anyone except the little E-bay man. He wondered what his friend Michael would say to this story. “He’d probably laugh and think it a good joke,” he thought. “Wish I had my iPhone. I’d text him. Hmm, what would I tell him?” For the next several minutes he composed all sorts of texts that he would enjoy sending if only he could. Finally just before dawn broke, he fell asleep.

    “So, E-bay, when do we pack up camp and head out again?” The two men were finishing up their breakfast and enjoying the warm sun as they drank their last cups of coffee.
    “Well, I think we’ll just stay here.”
    “Here? Why?”
    “For one, it’s a good place to camp: water, plenty of wood for the fire, shelter, a nice view. And since we are lost, we should stay in one place so they can find us. It is always harder to find someone if they keep moving. Besides,” the little E-bay man added, “it’s awfully hard hiking with feet covered in blisters.”
    Chester looked down at his stocking feet and grimaced. That was true. His feet ached at the very thought of boots.
    “You know, you should always try to break in your new hiking boots before you go on a hike. It’s easier on the feet.”
    “How long did it take to break yours in?”
    The little E-bay man glanced down at his warm, but quite comfortable boots. “Oh I don’t know, they were slightly used when I got them off of E-bay--”
    Chester groaned. “Do you get everything off of E-bay?”
    “Just about. Like I said, it’s kind of a hobby.”
    Chester nodded. Strangest hobby he’d ever heard of.
    “So, what do we do all day? Sit here like two old men?” Sarcasm flooded each word that broke the long silence.
    The little E-bay man laughed. He did a lot of laughing, Chester noticed. “I suppose we could, but we could at least talk about something. You know, have a discussion. I didn’t say an argument. We might even venture for a short walk if you feel up to it, or if your feet do, I should say.”
    “My feet don’t want to move right now.”
    “Well then, suppose you pick a topic and we’ll start talking.”

    Talk they did, and even though the little E-bay man said they weren’t to argue, they came mighty close to it several times, especially when the little E-bay man made a statement that the world was created by a Creator, and Chester declared it evolved over millions of years. Most of that day they did nothing but talk. And it was nearing the late afternoon hours before a lull came over them.
    “When do you think they’ll find us?” Chester questioned somewhat hesitatingly for he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.
    His companion shrugged. “It could be this evening or it might not be for a couple of days.”
    “A couple of days?” Chester had never thought of that possibility. “I can’t possibly live without my iPhone for that long!”
    The little E-bay man shrugged again. “Then I guess you’ll die if it takes them a while. I think you could at least try to survive so I’m not alone. But seriously, it could take them that long because they first have to figure out we’re gone, and then figure out where we got lost and if we got lost together or separately and then find out which direction we went and then find us. Sound complicated?”
    When Chester nodded, he added, “Believe me it is more complicated to find us than it is to find good bargains on E-bay.”
  
    And so the hours passed into evening with Chester grumbling and complaining about his missing iPhone while his companion, the little E-bay man, sought to divert his thoughts and to cheer him up. Lurking in the back of Chester’s mind was worry. Worry that they would never be found, worry that they’d run out of food, worry that he wouldn’t get back home in time for this important case he was working on.

Have you ever gotten lost while hiking?

Do you shop on E-bay?

Will you be coming to the party next week?

The Emancipation . . . - Part 3

Good morning FFFs,

It's a very noisy morning. The birds are singing loudly and have been for probably over an hour. And, Ti-K (niece #2) age, 2, and Lukesters (nephew #4) age 4, decided they should get up at 6:30 this AM. We sent them back to bed until 7. But Ti-K decided that she needed to sing. I wish I had a recording of her singing her own version of "To God Be the Glory" and "Jesus Loves Me" or a mixture of both. Absolutely adorable.

We don't just have Ti-K and Lukesters, Sissy is also here with us. We'll have these three until late Sunday afternoon. And they've been here since Wednesday morning. The other three boys are at their other grandparents, and their parents are at a homeschool conference.

So, I haven't done must writing this week. Only one night of it as Monday night we attended a baseball game. (First time to do that!) Hopefully next week I can write more. I did sign up for Camp NaNo in July. But I'm hoping to do some sprinting this month with "Finding Joy."

Ti-K is very busy this morning. She was building train tracks, and when one broke she said, "Oops-y Sketty oh!" :) Now she's got her baby in the stroller. Oh, and last night we got to see two "boing-boings." (Translated: rabbits)

Enjoy this next part of this story.

The Emancipation of

Chester Reginald Donavan; Esquire

Part 3

    When Chester discovered his loss he began to fume and fuss, for without that paper he could never hope to get the tent set up. “E-bay!” he shouted.
    “Do you need some help,” a perfectly calm voice replied behind him.
    “I guess so,” growled Chester. “My directions blew away and I can’t get this ridiculous thing set up.”
    “The wind does like to blow things up here. Have to be careful to put something heavy on the light things or stake them down or we’ll wind up losing ‘em.” The little E-bay man worked as he talked and soon had the small one-man tent set up. “All that needs done now is to stake it down. I usually stake it first, but with this size it doesn’t matter.”
    “Thanks.”
    “No problem. Think you can stake it while I go start the supper?”
    At Chester’s nod, he walked away leaving his young companion to hammer in the stakes. After hitting his thumb three times to every two he hit the stake, Chester managed to get the first stake in. Then he glanced with dismay at all the stakes still left. “There is no way I need that many stakes,” he mumbled to himself. “Besides, I don’t have that many thumbs left. If I just put one on the opposite corner I should be fine. I mean it can’t blow away because I’ll be in it.”
    In a minute he was done and leaving his pack in the tent he limped over to the fire with his mess kit.
    “All set up?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well the food’s ready. Dig in.”
    Chester needed no second invitation for he was ravenous after hiking all day. He did notice the momentary pause and bowing of the head of his companion, however, and thought, “Great, not only is he some E-bay freak but also a religious nut no doubt.” Then he shrugged and continued eating.
    Finally both men were satisfied, and their cooking and eating dishes having been cleaned, they were packed away in their packs again. The sun was setting in the west and one by one the stars were beginning to show themselves to the two solitary beings on the mountain. A cold wind blew down upon them as they sat before the fire. Chester shivered in his windbreaker and sighed.
    “If it weren’t for my feet hurting so much I’d go dig out my coat.”
    “Here,” The little E-bay man tossed a jacket to him. “I always carry an extra one just in case it is needed. What’s wrong with your feet?”
    Chester put on the jacket, though it was rather a snug fit, and immediately felt the difference as the wind could no longer get through to him. “Blisters.”
    “Take your boots off. It won’t hurt you to walk the short way to your tent without them. Besides you should be careful about blisters. They are mighty uncomfortable if they get infected.”
    Chester followed this advice and then sat toasting his stocking feet before the flickering flames of the camp fire.
    “E-bay,” he finally asked, “What do you do?”
    The little man laughed. “You know I rather like that name you’ve given me. It kind of fits. I’m a teacher in a local high school back home, and as a hobby I buy and sell on E-bay. In fact that is where I got most of my gear. It saves money if you know how to use it right. And what about you? Did I hear you say something about having a case?”
    “Yeah, I’m a lawyer. Just passed the bar six months ago. I’ve won every case I’ve tried. Of course they were easy. I don’t know why they even bothered going to court about them, but it gave me some easy dough.” Chester yawned. He hadn’t noticed it before but he was really tired. More tired than he remembered being for a very long time. In fact, he was so tired he didn’t even remember his missing iPhone.
    The little E-bay man also yawned and stretching asked, “What say we turn in for the night?”
    “Great idea!”

    How long he had slept Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., had no idea. Undoubtedly it had been for some hours, but he was so exhausted he never stirred until he was startled awake by something falling on top of him. For a moment he tried to realize where he was, then it hit him. He was camping in the mountains. Then what had fallen? He could hear the wind roaring and could feel a small cold draft coming from a crack in the top of his sleeping bag. He didn’t want to stir from his cozy, warm nest, but he had to know what had happened. In a dazed, still half-asleep manner he wriggled and squirmed and tried to sit up. That is when he discovered to his great amazement that he couldn’t do it. Instantly he was wide awake. Reaching out a hand he could feel the cold nylon sides of the tent on either side and Great Scott! It was over his sleeping bag too! His tent had fallen down! Where was his flashlight? He knew it had to be somewhere for he had had it when he went to bed. In his frantic searching he soon became all twisted up in his sleeping bag, and he still couldn’t find the flashlight. The roaring of the wind sounded to him like a vicious beast about to attack. Where was that light? He felt himself growing panicked. “Stay calm,” he whispered, but the very fright in his voice only added to his terror and when his foot, which was somewhere down in the tightly tangled, twisted mess, bumped against something hard, Chester Reginald Donavan, Esq., the great budding lawyer let out a yell so loud that it awakened echoes up and down the mountain side. “E-bay!”
    Chester was trembling in fright. He didn’t dare move, but he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. There was no air! The tent was flat! He was hopelessly trapped! Just when he felt he could stand the strain no longer, a deep but perfectly calm and even slightly amused voice sounded, and a light was played back and forth over where he lay.
    “So, you having a little problem? If you are cold, I really wouldn’t recommend knocking down your tent. Do you want a little help?”
    “Just get me out!” came Chester’s wavering voice.

Have you ever been stuck in a collapsed tent?

Do you follow written directions or attempt things on your own?

Do you like to sleep in or get up early?