Bugs - A Poem

Good morning!

I don't know where this week went. I've written, I've worked on blog posts for Read Another Page, and I've even worked on my website. (It really needs updated!) And I am working on trying to make it easier to find stories that I posted on here a long time ago that I haven't posted since. To do this, I created some pages for my planner so I can write down the story titles and the date I first posted it, and any dates I posted after that. It just takes time to go through eleven years of blog posts! ;)

On other notes, we continue to get more campers signed up for the King's Daughters' Writing Camp and are now almost to 60 campers! That's almost double what I thought we might have!

Oh, there is something that I need some help on. I'm trying to make a list, well, actually 3 lists, of names I've used for bad guys, doctors, or ministers from all my published stories and books. If you want to help, you can either email me your lists, or leave them in comments. Share the book or story title, and then the names and who they are. (You can use abbreviations like: BG, Doc. Rev.)

Anyway, today's post won't be a story. Instead you get a poem. This was the very first thing I shared on this blog when I started it in January of 2009. I have always thought it would be fun to publish it as a kid's book with fun illustrations, but I haven't found anyone to do the illustrations for it. Anyone feel like drawing some cute or fun bugs? ;)

Next week I'll have a short story for you, and hopefully by the following week I'll have found a longer short story to share. :)

BUGS!
There are bugs upon the rooftops
There are bugs beneath the floors
There are bugs within the bedrooms
There are bugs behind the doors!

There are bugs inside each closet
There are bugs in every drawer
There are bugs all down the hallway
There are bugs and bugs galore!

There are bugs within the showers
There are bugs down in the sink
There are bugs that sting and bite me
There are even bugs that stink!

There are bugs when I am sleeping
There are bugs when I do dine
There are bugs when I am working
Of the creepy, crawly kind!

There are bugs with lots of colors
There are bugs with lots of legs
There are bugs that look quite ugly
And all of them lay eggs!

There are bugs that I can step on
There are bugs that I can smash
There are bugs I dread to look at
Like the ones within the trash!

Oh, I wish the bugs would leave me
That all would go away
That they would cease to bug me
All twenty-four hours a day!

Do you like bugs?

Have you had a productive week?

How long have you been reading this blog?

Mysterious Words - Part 2

Good morning, FFFs,

Summer is here to stay. And we haven't had much rain at all this past week so the grass still doesn't need mowed. Yay! Of course there is a chance for rain the rest of this week and into next so we'll see. Last night I looked out my window at dusk and enjoyed the dancing lights of the fireflies. There is just something about those insects that make me smile.

This has been a different kind of week for me. It feels like I've hardly gotten anything done.

Monday was pretty normal, but I had so many things to work on that it was hard to get much done. ;) Ever been there? My brain was divided into so many projects that it just seemed to take longer to get one thing done.

On Tuesday our internet decided to go out for 7 hours. I got many other things done that had been sitting around and waiting, but I couldn't work on my blog posts or things like that.

Wednesday I had to drive to a town 25 min away to get the paperwork for my job in July done. (I will be working here in town about 5 minutes from home.) While there I got to find out who the other person was who would be working with me. That was exciting because I've worked with her before at elections and we get along great! She had just told me when she saw me last that she really missed working with me. :) So that was fun. But it also took up half my morning.

Yesterday was one of those days. You know, the kind of day when unexpected things pop up and you don't get some things done because you have to do other things? Yeah, one of those days.

And today I clean the house. It needs it. We'll see what other things I can get done.

On the writing front, I have gotten some writing in each day. And Book 3 is now at 24k words. (Goal: 30k or longer.) I have many ideas swirling in my head, but I am not sure which ones are actually going to make it into the book and which ones won't. You can be praying for wisdom as I write. :)

And during all this, the King's Daughters' Writing Camp continues to grow. We keep sending out applications, and information, and signing new campers up. This has grown beyond our original thoughts, and it is amazing watching God bring in writers both young and old. If you haven't joined and would like to, or would like more information, send an email to kingsdaughterswritingcamp [at] gmail [dot] com. Or leave me a comment.

And now I hope you enjoy the rest of this story. The word limit on it made it a bit difficult to do much, but it is what it is.

Mysterious Words

Part 2

Last week:

    “Could I be of service in any way?” he questioned politely. “I have the afternoon off, if your brother doesn’t.”
    Brooke looked up at him, tipping her head and pursing her lips. Then she shrugged. “If you want. Mom and I just arrived last week, and today she is gone for the whole day. She expected me to have Chad this afternoon, but I guess that won’t work.”
    “What were you going to do with him?”
    “Oh, wander the beaches and talk, at least until the fireworks tonight. I haven’t seen him in over six months except the brief time when he came to meet us when we arrived.”
    “If you’d like,” White offered gallantly, “we could go down the beach and walk to the base. You might get to see your brother there.”
    Brooke was full of delight. “Could we?” she gasped. “I’d love to!”

    Soon White was strolling down the beach by the side of Chad’s lively, younger sister whom he found very entertaining. They hadn’t gone far when Brooke, who was looking everywhere with delight, exclaimed, “What is that thing in the bushes?”
    White looked where she was pointing. A bit of faded yellow appeared tied around the branch of a bush. Going over to it, he carefully untied it and pulling it out, handed it to Brooke.
    She squealed, “Look! There is something written on it!”
    Sure enough, faded almost beyond notice were some words. After close examination by both White and his young companion they managed to make out the words ‘blood’ ‘save’ and ‘slave’ while several letters here and there were discernable.
    “It’s a mystery!” breathed Brooke, very much excited.
    “It looks like it,” White replied. “Do you want to take it and show Chad if he’s available?”
    Before Brooke could reply, a shout startled them. Looking up they saw Chad pounding down the beach. With a cry, Brooke flew to meet him, flinging her arms about his neck as he lifted her off her feet.
    “You came back! I’m so glad! Come and see what we found!” and not giving her brother a chance to explain why he had left, she pulled him back to where White was standing. “See?” she thrust the ribbon into his hands.
    Chad studied the lettering on it for several minutes before looking up. “What is this supposed to mean?”
    “We have no idea,” White said.
    “Maybe there are other ribbons around?” Brooke was already examining a few nearby bushes. The two members of the Coast Guard glanced at each other, shrugged and then began looking too.

    For nearly thirty minutes the trio searched but only discovered one more ribbon. It was much like the other one, tied to a branch, yet the words on it were different. After careful study, four words were recognized: ‘home’, ‘free’, ‘banner’ and ‘brave’.
    “What does the rest of it say? And why were they tied on these bushes, and who put them there and when?”
    “You’ve got me on that one, Sis. I have no clue. Any idea’s White?”
    White shook his head. “Not unless it has to do with the legend of this beach.”
    “What’s that?” Chad and Brooke asked simultaneously.
    “Why don’t we take these back to the base and see if any of the other guys can figure any more words out, and on the way, I’ll tell you.”
    The others readily agreed.

    “They say,” began White in a slow, mysterious tone that made Brooke shiver with excitement, “that it was on a day in July, much like this one that a young girl was seen walking down to this very beach early one afternoon. She was dressed in yellow and wore a red hat. No one was sure who she was. Supposedly someone from a sailboat out in the bay saw her back there near the rocks, heading this way. They claim to have heard a cry of some sort, and on looking at the beach saw the girl lying unmoving on the sand. Well, there was no way for them to come ashore here, so they radioed a call for help and waited. As they watched, the girl appeared to be disappearing into the bushes. They are sure she didn’t move herself, but was somehow dragged there or something. Anyway, when help arrived, there was no sign of her. The Coast Guard that was here at the time, I’m told, searched the shoreline for days, but nothing more was discovered. No one ever saw the girl again and no one knows what really happened.”

    Silence fell as White finished the tale. No one spoke until they were almost to the base.

    Then Chad said, “That was quite a tale. But, if they searched the whole shoreline, why didn’t they find these ribbons if they came from this girl?”
    White shrugged.
    “You know, Chad,” Brooke began slowly, thoughtfully, “if that happened years ago, those bushes would have been smaller and maybe if these were tied right near the ground, no one noticed them.”
    “But they’re white,” her brother protested, looking again at the ribbons,
    “Yeah, now. But maybe they were yellow to match her dress and they just faded.”
    “Then why the words?” White questioned.
    “What words?”
    White and Dancroft looked up. “These Pettrot,” Chad held them out to his room mate. “Can you make anything out of them?”
    Pettrot stared at the faint marks, and then calling a few more of the Coast Guard over, they all fell to work trying to uncover the mysterious message.
    Brooke watched them in shy silence a minute and then, seeing how interested everyone really was, began to offer her own suggestions. The ribbons were scrutinized, held up to the sun, studied in the shade, copies of the letters were carefully traced and criticized and yet no one could come up with a meaning for the seven words. More men came and joined the group and others left. Even the Captain, puzzled by the gathering came and tried, but with no success.
    It wasn’t until almost supper time that Chad Dancroft suddenly started up exclaiming, “Wait a minute! Let me see those again!” Snatching them up he began to read, “’Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps pollution. No refuge can save the hireling and slave.’ and the other one says, ‘And the Star-spangled banner shall wave, o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.’” He looked up, his eyes sparkling.
    “That’s it!” Brooke exclaimed.
    “We still haven’t a clue how they came to be tied to bushes on the beach or why they were there, but at least we found out the message.” Chad grinned at his sister and shook hands with White. “I’d say it was rather fun.”
    “I think so too.” White agreed.
    Brooke sighed. “Now, tomorrow I can start trying to find out the who, when, how and why.”
    The others grinned and then together they headed into mess for supper.

How was your week?

Do you enjoy fireflies?

What did you think of the story?

Mysterious Words - Part 1

Good morning, Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,

(I sometimes wonder how many years I've been calling you that. Perhaps I'll look some time.)

Anyway . . .

This week is disappearing quite quickly.

On Saturday I did quite a bit of work on the Christian Writing Camp. On Monday we got our last "Auntie" (our name for councilors) in, and opened the doors to a few "campers" to test things. Then we started sending information out to anyone and everyone. By the end of the first day we have quite a few join. And every day since then we've had at least a few people sign up. Right now we are over 30 participants! It's exciting to see this all come together. Yes, there are things we had to figure out that we hadn't realized before, or questions asked that we had to find the answer to. But it's been fun. If you want to join The King's Daughters' Writing Camp or want to know more about it, just send an email to kingsdaughterswritingcamp[at]gmail[dot]com and ask for the information, or an application.

On Sunday our church got to have Sunday school again, and a fellowship meal! That was exciting!

I've been trying to get writing in with all the Camp stuff. And I've managed to write most nights this week. Not all have gotten 1k, but I'm over half way done with Book 3! :) Maybe I will be able to finish it before the end of this month after all.

Okay, I went looking for a story to share today, and let me tell you, it was difficult! I have stories, lots of stories, but it seems that I've either just posted or re-posted them, or I've published them. This story was first written and published on here back in 2011. I thought it was safe to share it again. :) I was given some "rules" about writing this story, so it was a bit tricky.

Characters: 3 main and up to 10 minor
Length: at least 4 pages (it goes to 5)
Special Instructions: Mysterious, Happens on 4th of July

Mysterious Words

Part 1

    The sound of footsteps approaching down the sandy beach disturbed the peacefulness of the July afternoon. They came along quickly, not as one taking a leisurely stroll, but with purpose and intent, moving with the lightness which a child or young person would have when full of excitement, eagerly tripping along with a skip or jump now and then.

    Then came a sudden squeal, a gasp and a thump followed immediately by a mysterious silence. Only the swish of the water washing up the beach and lapping against the rocks disturbed the deathlike stillness which pervaded the southern island. That was all, yet somehow something was different. The palm trees whispered about it with the vines which seemed to grow everywhere. The pebbles murmured about it to each wave which washed them back and forth. Even the clouds gathered in clusters across the sky breathing the news to additional clouds that joined them. And so, for several years they whispered, murmured and breathed about it as they waited to see what would happen.


    The sky was blue; the kind of deep blue that makes you feel as though you were looking into a fathomless well trying to catch a glimpse of the bottom and yet not able to. The southern sky was full of clouds piled up on each other until at the top they lay floating about much as though they were feathers coming out of a feather bed. As the sun began its descent from the middle of the sky, the sands along the edge of the dense mass of vegetation spoke of intense heat while the waters washing up looked invitingly cool this hot Independence Day. A breeze was stirring the tops of the palm trees. It was a glorious day!

    Twenty-one-year-old Chad Dancroft strode purposefully down the shore, his quick blue eyes scanning first the bay on his right, where the waters changed from aqua to deep grey, to the seemingly impenetrable foliage of green on his left; from the high tops of the palm trees where a few bright birds twittered and sang, to the rocky, pine topped ridge before him. Brooke should be coming soon. In fact, after a quick glance at his watch, he realized that he was late, and she should have been waiting for him already.

    “Our watches must not be in sinc,” he murmured, thinking half aloud as he often did when alone.
    “Dancroft!”
    Chad wheeled around sharply. A older, fellow member of the United States Coast Guard was hurrying down the sandy beach waving something white. “I thought I’d never catch you!” he sucked in a gulping mouthful of air. “Anyone trying to follow you would think you were-- well, let’s just say you sure move fast for someone on leave.” The newcomer grinned. “Weren’t going anywhere special, were you, Dancroft?”
    Chad rolled his eyes, “Okay, White, why’d you chase me down?” Being one of the youngest members of the Coast Guard stationed here, Chad was often the brunt of good natured teasing.
The paper was held out, “Captain said to find you and deliver it. Don’t know what it’s about,” and White waited as the paper was snatched and read.
    Sighing deeply, Chad let his stiff shoulders drop, and his face took on a look of puzzled bewilderment.
    “What’s up?”
    “I’m ordered back to the base at once. Captain gives no reason but the note is worded like it’s important.” When White didn’t say anything, Dancroft went on. “I’m supposed to meet Brooke on the rocks there, but she’s late.”
    “Brooke?”
    “My sister.”
    “Oh, yeah. Can I give her a message for you?”
    For a moment, Chad tapped the paper in his hand and frowned. At last he said, “Yeah, if you’ll just wait and tell her ‘Pop goes the weasel,’ I’d appreciate it.”
    White looked at his companion in utter bewilderment, “Pop goes the weasel?” he asked at last.
    “Yep.”
    “I think the Captain must be wanting to send you to the hospital. The sun’s gotten to you. Pop goes the weasel indeed!”
    Chad shrugged, while a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “’I got sick from all the sun, my sonny boy got the measles, but still we had a lot of fun. Pop goes the weasel’.” And with a laugh he set off back down the beach at a dogtrot leaving his companion standing dumbfounded, gazing after him.

    “Chad?” A bright voice recalled White from his bewilderment and sent him hurrying up the sand to where a young girl in a red and white sailor dress was skirting the rocks. When the girl realized that the older man approaching was not her brother, she paused as he came up.
    “Brooke Dancroft?”
    The girl nodded, noting the emblem of the Coast Guard on his shirt, “Where’s Chad? Who are you?”
    “Tyler White, Miss: I work with your brother. He got called back to the base unexpectedly, but he left a message for you.”
    “A message?” Brooke’s eyes lighted up at this news. “What is it?”
    White frowned, “He said to tell you, ‘Pop goes the weasel’ but I haven’t a clue what he means by it. I hope you do.”
    “Oh bother, and I was planning on spending the afternoon with him. Now what am I supposed to do?”
    White looked down at the girl before him. She didn’t look more than twelve, with blonde hair and eyes as blue as her brother’s. Her face and arms were tan from the sun as were her feet in white sandals. As he stood looking at her, he was reminded of his own daughter back in Texas.
    “Could I be of service in any way?” he questioned politely. “I have the afternoon off, if your brother doesn’t.”
    Brooke looked up at him, tipping her head and pursing her lips. Then she shrugged. “If you want. Mom and I just arrived last week, and today she is gone for the whole day. She expected me to have Chad this afternoon, but I guess that won’t work.”

Are you interested in our Writing Camp?

How was your week?

What do you think is going to happen in this story?

Into June

Good morning FFFs,

    I'm sorry to inform you that I don't have a story for you today. I planned on getting one picked out to post yesterday, but I ended up being very busy helping create the new Christian Writer's Camp since I'm not using NaNo any longer. The new place is already looking good even if we haven't finished setting it all up. You'll be able to be in a "tent" with your own friends, or can be assigned a tent. You can visit the Campfire or the Lakeside to chat and hang out with people who are not in your "tent," and you can do word sprints on the Writing Trails. Oh, and yes, we will have a place to keep track of your goals. I'll let you all know when it's up and ready for campers. ;)

    This week was warm. Okay, some of the days have been hot. But we've had sunshine! Yesterday was cloudy and we got rain in the morning, then the sun came out and no more rain.

    I worked as an election judge once again on Tuesday. This is the first time we've had an election in June so it was odd opening the polls when it was already starting to get light out. And leaving the polls after we'd packed up when it was still very much light out. We had a fairly good turn out in spite of the virus keeping some people away. We were only required to wear gloves not masks unless we wanted to. None of us did. :)

    Guess what? I got the proof copies of my Secret Project! I am pretty excited! Make sure you are following Read Another Page because in a few weeks I'll be releasing the covers on there.

    Speaking of Secret Project, I'm working on Book 3. Right now things are a little difficult trying to figure out how everything works and what comes next, and I've been a little distracted. My goal is to get this book written by the end of this month. I'm not sure if I can or not, but you can be praying the ideas would all come together.

    Oh, and I did accept the job to work in the County Clerk's office here in town for the month of July. I'll be working Monday–Thursday. It should be interesting. I am hoping I'll still be able to get some writing done in the evenings and on weekends.

    And since I'll be gone most of next month, I'm trying to get blog posts for Read Another Page done and scheduled for this month, next month, and at least a few in August.

   Anyway, that's my life right now. Sorry for no story. I'll try to have something for you next week.

How was your week?

Are you interested in a Christian Writing Camp?

Are you excited to learn more about my Secret Project?