A 4th of July to Rememer – Part 1

Good morning, FFFs,

It's hot. It's humid. It's summer. And I stay inside in the AC as much as possible. Sure, call me a wimp. I grow languid and my brain won't create stories when I'm too hot and humid.

But let's change the subject, shall we?

Camp NaNo starts next week. Am I ready? Sure. I guess. I mean I'm just going to keep doing the same things I've been doing the last two weeks, so yeah, let's keep it up. I'm really enjoying this "different story a day" thing. Here's my "schedule" (subject to change when any story gets finished) (All titles are working titles and may be changed at a moments notice.):

Monday– "A Police Force for Christmas"

Tuesday– "Lawrence & Lenexa"

Wednesday– "Full House Christmas"

Thursday– "Secret Project"

Friday– Uh, I actually haven't written on a Friday yet, but it might be another Christmas story.

Saturday– Well, I don't have a set story for this day either. I could work on one of two things. I guess we'll see what happens.

If any of you who read this would like to do Camp NaNo but don't have a cabin, you are welcome to join us Next Door. We still have 8 beds left. ;)

Okay, here's the first part of my 4th of July story. I haven't decided what I think about it yet. Let me know your thoughts.

A 4th of July to Remember
Part 1

    Mr. Al Wu held the small American flag in his left hand along with the piece of paper as he stood up. He glanced over at his wife as she stood near him, with their ten-year-old son, Eric, between. This was it. The time had come.

    “Everyone, please raise your right hand and repeat after me. I hereby declare on oath–”

    “I hereby declare on oath–”

    The judge continued reading the oath that would forever change the lives of those in the room. “. . . That I will support and defend the constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies foreign and domestic . . . And that I will bear truth faith . . . So help me God.”

    The room echoed the solemn pledge. “So help me God.”

    Looking up, the judge smiled. “Congratulations! You all are now United States Citizens!”

    The room erupted into applause and cheers. Mr. Wu felt tears forming in his eyes as he clapped with the others. This was really happening. This day he had dreamed of for so many years. It had finally come!

    “Al Wu.”

    Once again standing, Mr. Wu received a firm handshake and his certificate as a citizen of the United States from one of the clerks in the court room.

    “Mei Wu.”

    Mrs. Wu stood, one hand still holding the American flag as it rested against her pregnant stomach. With a smile that made her face seem to glow, she shook hands and took her certificate before resuming her seat as the small gathering clapped.

    The next one called was Eric Wu. The boy stood straight and tall, solemnly shook hands, and took his certificate.

    “Thank you, Father,” Mr. Wu breathed. “We are all Americans now.”

    The rest of the ceremony was short, and soon everyone was dismissed. The newly sworn in citizens greeted each other like friends and family even though most of them had never met before and came from different countries. But the countries of their birth no longer mattered; now they were Americans.

    “When is your little one due, Mrs. Wu?” asked one of the clerks who had taken a few moments to chat.

    “In two weeks. I am thankful this happened before she arrived.”

    The clerk smiled and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m sure you are. Do you have a name picked out yet?”

    Mei shook her head. “We have not decided. So many names.” She shook her head again, and her black hair swung loose in a graceful way around her face. “When she arrives we will find her name.”

    “I’m sure you will. Well,” the clerk held out her hand, “congratulations once again on becoming American citizens. And congratulations on your new little one.”

    “Thank you very much,” Mei Wu said softly.

    Al gently took his wife’s arm and, with Eric following, walked out of the courthouse and into the bright summer afternoon.

    “Dad,” Eric said as they drove home, “the baby will be born an American, won’t she?”

    “Yes, son. She will, thank God.”

*

    The morning light shone through a break in the hazy clouds and seemed to make the American flag waving proudly in the breeze to glow. Everything was quiet out in the country. No traffic, sirens, or neighboring dogs broke the hush of that July morning. Mr. Wu, returning from his morning run down the country road, turned into the freshly mowed yard and paused to look.

    The house wasn’t new, and the white paint was peeling from the porch pillars, but it was home. Flowers grew around the porch while the chair and porch swing sported pillows of red, white, and blue. Looking beyond the porch, the rolling fields of grass changed to a misty hill covered in trees which gave it an almost purple look.

“O beautiful for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain.

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood

From sea to shining sea!”

    Softly, as he started walking slowly, Al Wu sang the words through with a fervent heart. “Brotherhood,” he mused, walking slowly to the house; “people from every country in the world have come together, and each has given something to this country. Some have not given good, and for that it is a shame. But others have given good. God helping us, we will give good to this country who has taken us in. And may we always be the kind of people who give our best to this country as Americans.”

    He stopped short and stood silent. “That’s it!”

    Suddenly he hurried across the yard and into the house. “Mei,” he called, hearing someone in the kitchen.

    “I am here.”

    Rushing into the kitchen, Al beamed at his wife. “I have a name for the baby!”

    Mei rubbed the round bulge under her red and white dress. “You do? She is not born yet. How do you know?”

    With a movement, Al snatched a pen and a paper napkin and wrote a name.

    “Ann?” Mei sat down at the table. “I do not understand this. How–” She broke off as her husband wrote a few other things on the napkin. Suddenly her eyes filled with happy tears. “Yes, yes. That will be her name. How did you think of it?”

    “I was outside, and it just came to me. But her middle name, Mei, that I do not know.”

    “Let us wait on that. But should we spell it like my grandmother A-N?

    Al shook his head. “No, she will be an American, and it will be spelled A-N-N.”

    “Ann,” Mei repeated dreamily rubbing her baby bump once more. “It is the only name that would fit.” She smiled up at her husband. “Now go. Get a shower and come help me. I hear Eric upstairs. Now there will be no more peace for this Independence Day.” She smiled as she spoke. “Just think, Al, our first celebration as Americans is to celebrate the birthday of the country who has given us a home and freedom.”

    Leaning down, Al let his kiss answer for him before he left the kitchen.

Is it hot and humid at your house?

Are you doing Camp NaNo?

What did you think of the first part of this story?

Runaway? - Part 3

Hello, FFFs,

It's official. Summer has arrived. Not only has it arrived on the calendar, but the weather has finally decided that it should become hot. Today is supposed to reach into the 90s with a heat index of 102º. Yep. Summer. Usually by now we've already had heat like this almost constantly, so we aren't complaining.

This has been a good writing week so far. I've written every evening and each time I've written at least 1k words. Well, actually, except for last night it's been 1,500+ words. And I've been writing on different stories each day. And they've been coming along nicely. I think part of my problem before was that I had so many stories that they were all trying to come at once and were jamming the flow from brain to fingers. But once I decided to work on a different story each day they all got in line and have taken turns. :)

Monday's Story: Christmas #1

Tuesday's Story: a little bit of "Lawrence & Lenexa" and a short children's story

Wednesday's Story: Christmas #2

Thursday's Story: "Lawrence & Lenexa" (I had a headache and didn't feel like starting any of my other stories since all except one were new.)

Friday's Story: Uh, no story tonight. We're babysitting my nieces and nephews. ;)

Saturday's Story: I don't know! You decide. Which of these should work on next?

• New Novella
• New Story
• Christmas #3
• Short Story that's started

I know, I didn't give you a description of any of them. :P This is a blind voting deal. But don't worry, some of these other stories will end soon and then I can fit in the other stories.

Here is the final part of this story. I hope you enjoy it.

Runaway?

Part 3

    “Yeah, but I want a dog, and Dad said I can’t have one ‘cause I’m not re–respect–” He frowned and shook his head.

    “Responsible?” ventured Officer Rockwell.

    Jerry nodded, forgetting that he hadn’t wanted to tell the policeman he had run away. “Yeah. But I’d take care of a dog if I had one,” he assured his new friends.

    “Rock!” Someone from the kitchen area stuck his head out and shouted. “Got a call.”

    Standing up, the officer said, “Be right back. Now don’t you go letting Gil take my plate yet, Jerry.” Then he strode off and disappeared.

    Gil leaned closer and spoke confidentially. “It’s got to be either his chief calling to make sure he’s not slacking off, or his wife wanting him to bring home some milk. Happens quite often. Need some more lemonade?”

    With a nod, for his mouth was full, Jerry watched Gil take his glass and fill it up. He’d never gotten a refill before.

*

    “I got the kid,” Rockwell assured his chief. “He’s safe and enjoying a good lunch.” He paused and listened a moment. “No, tell them he’s all right and will be home later.” Another pause. “Gil and I are working on him, just give us some more time. . . . Yep. I’ll take him there.” Pulling out a small pad of paper from his pocket, Rockwell scribbled something in it before tucking it back in and buttoning his shirt pocket. “Yes, sir.” He hung up the phone and grinned at one of the cooks. “Just save me a slice of that apple pie.”

    “Will do, Rock,” the man replied.

    With that, Rockwell left the kitchen and sauntered back to his seat at the counter. “Now, where were we?” he asked before shoveling in a large bite of spaghetti.

    Gil answered. “We were talking about Jerry wanting that dog but his folks not thinking he’s responsible enough.”

    Rockwell nodded and scratched his ear. “Well, Jerry, the way I see it, you’ve got a couple options here.” He paused and glanced at Jerry, who was shoving the last bite of his sandwich into is mouth. He wondered if the boy would run now that his stomach was full. He hoped not. He didn’t want to take him home by force. “One is to keep on walking toward Washington, but it’s a mighty long way, and someone else might see you and decide to pick you up and take you home.”

    “And even if you reached Washington,” Gil put in, “I hear it’s a big city. Not like our town. There’s bound to be a lot of crime and such.”

    “Gil’s right about that.” And Rockwell wiped his hands on a paper napkin and pushed back his empty plate. “The other option would be to go back home and show your dad you can be responsible, and maybe earn a dog that way.”

    “How?” Jerry’s swinging feet tapped lightly against the counter.

    “Well, for one, you could make sure you make your bed each day and keep your room clean. Maybe take out the trash.”

    “Take out the trash?”

    “Sure,” Rockwell said. “I take out the trash.”

    Jerry didn’t say anything.

    Gil leaned on the counter again. It seemed to be his favorite attitude for conversation. “And if your mom’s got any chores for you to do, get ‘em done right away, before she can ask, if possible. There’s nothing that spells responsibility like doing things before you’re asked to do them.”

    Jerry was silent so long that Rockwell wondered if they’d said too much.

*

    Thoughtfully, Jerry considered the suggestions. “Do you think I’d get a dog if I did that?” Running away wasn’t as fun as he thought it would be.

    “I don’t know,” the officer replied. “But it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

    “I suppose so.” Jerry gave a long sigh. “It’s going to be hard though.”

    “Taking care of a dog is hard. And so is walking all the way to Washington D.C.”

    Jerry looked up at Officer Rockwell. “I guess it would be.” He started to slide off his stool, but a hand placed on his arm stopped him.

    “If you’ll have a piece of pie with me, I’ll drive you home in style,” Officer Rockwell offered with a smile. “Gil’s pies might be as good as your mom’s.”

    At that Jerry scooted back onto his seat. “Okay. Mom doesn’t make very good pies. Grandma does though. Can I have cherry?”

*

    Rockwell stopped at the door of the diner with one hand on Jerry’s shoulder, and glanced back. “Thanks, Gil,” he called.

    Gil gave a friendly wave. “No trouble. Come see me again, Jerry, and bring your parents with you.”

    Jerry waved. “Okay.”

    The sun was hot and the air heavy with the approaching storm as Rockwell and his young friend walked the few blocks to his patrol car. For once it looked like the weatherman was correct. Rockwell opened the door. “Hop in, Jerry.”

    The boy scrambled into the car and rested his bundle and bedroll on his lap. “I’m kind of glad you found me,” he said as the car started rolling along the street. “I don’t like big storms.”

    “I’m glad I found you too, Jerry.” Rockwell replied quietly. He was thankful God had caused his path to connect with Jerry’s and that Jerry had decided to go home and learn to be responsible.

Which story should I write tomorrow?

What advice would you have given Jerry?

Has summer arrived at your place yet?

Runaway? - Part 2

Hello FFFs,

I was kind of forgetting it was Friday and I needed to post this 2nd part of the story for you all. It just doesn't seem like it CAN be Friday again. Didn't we just have Friday? Well, anyway.

I wrote some on Monday and finished the 4th of July story. Yes, I'll post it on here later. :)

On Tuesday evening my best friend, who had just returned from a 3 week visit to her twin sister in Canada, and I enjoyed a lovely stroll and talking. No writing that evening.

Wednesday evening I helped out in the children's class at church, so I didn't write.

But yesterday I wrote. I actually got 1k words written on a new story. At this point I have no idea if this is going to be a short story, a novella, or a full length novel. I guess we'll see how it goes. And I may set it aside and work on some other things. I would like to get my Christmas stories written earlier this year, but I don't know how early that will be. And I have some sort of ideas for another story that I'd like to start, if I can decide how. :)

Okay, enough about me. Oh, wait! I have a new FREE short story for you all today! Today through Sunday you can get A Good Summer for free. So don't forget to pick up your copy.

 

Runaway?

Part 2

    “Gil, Jerry here is headed to the White House.” Officer Rockwell hoped his friend would pick up on what he wasn’t saying. All his wondering was put to rest when Gil spoke.

    “You don’t say! The White House in Washington?” Gil looked impressed. “I’ve never been that far east before. I went west during the war. Say now, young fella, are you planning on walking the whole way?”

    Jerry gave a half shrug.

    “It’s a mighty long way, but if you’re heading that far, you’re going to need a good meal. What’ll you have?” And Gil straightened up.

    “I only have ten cents,” Jerry admitted, looking first at Gil and then at Rockwell.

    “That’ll get you just about anything,” Gil told him. “And what about you, Rock? Want your usual?”

    Rock gave a nod. “Sure do. No one makes spaghetti like you do.” He turned to the boy beside him. “How about you, Jerry? Want spaghetti?”

    Jerry shook his head. “I want a sandwich.”

    “Ham?” Gil asked.

    Jerry nodded.

    “I’ll take those orders back to the kitchen and will be right back.” And Gil moved down the counter, leaving the boy alone with Officer Rockwell.

    This was what Rockwell wanted, and he leaned over. “Say, Jerry, how old are you?”

    “Almost seven.”

    “That’s mighty grown up, but it’s a long way to Washington D.C. Where are you going to sleep?”

    Jerry patted the sleeping roll he had across his lap. “I’ll sleep out under the stars in this. It won’t be too cold since it’s summer.”

    “That’s true,” Rockwell said musingly. “But what if it rains? I heard the man on the radio say we might get some thunderstorms tonight.” Rockwell shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be sleeping out in a storm. Would you, Gil?”

    Leaning once more on the counter, Gil looked from one face to the other. “Sleep outside in a storm? Well, I’ve done it before, and I don’t recommend it. You get all wet, and your bed and clothes get wet, not to mention how loud that thunder can be. Besides, if you’re going to see the president, you don’t want to show up all dirty.” Gil shook his head slowly. “No, sir. I wouldn’t recommend walking the whole way. Now a bus might be a good way to get there.”

    Rockwell nodded. “Yep, that’s how I’d go.” Then he stopped as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Jerry, I don’t see how you can take a bus though if you’ve only got ten cents.”

    Jerry said not a word, and Rockwell wondered what he was thinking but didn’t feel that he should ask yet.

    “What made you decide to go to Washington today, sonny?” questioned Gil, his tones curious. “Or have you been traveling some time?”

*

    Jerry’s hands fiddled with the rope around his sleeping roll. What should he tell them? It was wrong to lie, but he didn’t want to go back home.

    “I started this morning. I didn’t hear anything about storms,” he admitted at last.

    “Oh.”

    Jerry wondered what Gil’s tone meant. It had sounded somewhat like his dad’s voice when he knew more than Jerry hoped he did.

    A little bell rang, and Gil disappeared for a moment, only to return with their lunch. Officer Rockwell took off his cap and set it on the counter. “I always pray before I eat, Jerry,” he said.

    Quietly Jerry folded his hands and bowed his head.

    “Heavenly Father, thank You for this food that You have given. Thank You for Jerry’s company. I do ask that You would help Jerry know what he should do about his trip. Keep us safe today, I ask. In Your Son’s Name. Amen.”

    No one spoke for some minutes as Jerry and Officer Rockwell enjoyed their lunches. Gil busied himself on the other side of the counter doing something, though Jerry didn’t know what.

    “You know,” Gil said thoughtfully after several minutes, coming over and resting one elbow on the counter, “you never did tell me why you were heading to Washington? Oh, I heard you were going to see the president, but what about? You have important matters to discuss with him?”

    Right then Jerry was thankful for his mom’s constant admonitions not to talk with food in his mouth, for he had just taken a large bite, and this gave him a chance, a polite one, to think. He stole a glance at Officer Rockwell, but he didn’t even seem to be listening, for he was concentrating on his spaghetti. Maybe it would be okay to tell.

    “I was hoping I could live with him.”

    “What for? Don’t you have a good home?” Gil asked.

Have you ever dreamed of living in the White House?

What would you have done if you had met Jerry?

Did you get your free story?

Runaway? - Part 1

Hello FFFs,

Guess what? It's cloudy and rainy. Ho hum. At least it only drizzled and sprinkled some yesterday so my dad was able to work. (Roofing can be quite difficult when it's raining or too hot.) I don't know if the rain will continue today or if it'll blow away. It hasn't been really hot, but we turned the AC on yesterday because my mom and I were both feeling really tired. It's probably from the high mold count from all the rain, or the high grass pollen. I wish we could ship this rain over to the states that are not getting good rain. We'd be happy to share. :)

Let's see, what has this week been like?

My sister's birthday and my parents' anniversary was Monday, so my grandparents, aunt, brother and his family all came over to celebrate it. We had Chick-fil-a for lunch and then ice cream pies for dessert. I did get a little bit written Monday evening. I'm trying to do better at getting at least a little writing done almost every day.

Tuesday I wrote some.

Wednesday my 7 nieces and nephews were over all morning. After breakfast my sister and I took them all down to a bike path near us. I had my bike so I rode with the older ones who could go faster while my sister stayed with Buster who is almost 2, and Ti-K who is 4. Of course we had to stop and play in the creek tunnels under the road a little bit. :) That night I helped in the children's class at church so I didn't write.

Thursday. Oh, that was yesterday. I was trying to get things done on my website and I did. I got "Hymns in the Hills" added to the Bookshelf, and added "A Good Summer" to it as well. But I forgot to add "Thank You." I guess that's getting added to my "to-do" list. I wrote last night. It's kind of slow, but at least it's something.

It's so strange not having a novel in the works. I'm just thankful I have ideas for a few short stories. But speaking of short stories, here's the first part of a new short story. I had no inspiration, no ideas that would come, and so I pulled out my file box of calendar pictures. (Yes, I have a file box of them.) I ended up with a Norman Rockwell picture and write a short story about it. It is broken up into 3 parts though. I hope you enjoy!

Runaway?

Part 1

    Jerry trudged down the sidewalk one warm summer day. He had rolled up the bottom of his jeans as much as he could manage, but he was still hot. His feet were tired, and he was thirsty. Over his shoulder, tied up in a red bandana which was firmly knotted to a stick, were all his worldly possessions. Well, all he’d taken with him when he had run away from home that morning. Yes, Jerry was running away. He was never going back, he decided as he marched along. He was going to go live with President Eisenhower in the White House. Then he could have a dog if he wanted one. Jerry was sure there weren’t any kids living there with the president. “I might even be able to have two dogs!”

    The sun climbed higher in the sky, and Jerry’s feet were dragging. He was hungry. The breakfast of puffed rice cereal, toast, one fried egg, and juice he had eaten earlier had disappeared.

    “I should’a made me a sandwich before I ran away,” he muttered, kicking a rock into the street.

    A movement across the street caught his attention, and his eyes widened at the sight of a tall, broad shouldered policeman in a blue uniform.

*

    Officer Rockwell was walking his usual beat. His stomach told him it was time for lunch, and he fully agreed with it. Gil’s place was just across the street. Some days he had to eat elsewhere because his duties kept him away from this street at lunch time, but when he could, Officer Rockwell ate at the little diner.

    Glancing across the street, his brows drew together slightly. A young boy, he couldn’t be more than seven, in jeans and a light yellow shirt was trudging down the sidewalk alone.

    “He’s running away, I’ll bet,” Officer Rockwell thought, taking in the small bundle tied to the stick. “Maybe I can talk some sense into him. I wonder where he’s headed.”

    After waiting for a car to pass, he crossed the street and stopped in front of the boy.

    “Hey there, young fella, what’s your name?”

    “Jerry.” The name was very quiet.

    “Hello, Jerry. I’m Officer Rockwell, but my friends just call me Rock. Where are you headed to this sunny day?”

    The boy hesitated and looked down at his scuffed brown shoes. “To the White House,” he admitted at last.

    Officer Rockwell couldn’t hold back a low whistle. “That’s a good ways from here. Say, are you hungry?”

    Jerry nodded.

    “Have time to eat some lunch with me before you get back on your way? There’s a really good diner up here at the corner.”

    “I only have ten cents,” the boy whispered, his eyes still on the ground.

    “With that you can get a good meal at Gil’s,” Officer Rockwell assured, knowing that his friend would never charge the boy full price, and quite willing to add some to his own bill for the sake of the runaway. “Come on, what do you say we go inside where it’s cooler and get a bite to eat?”

*

    Jerry was torn. He did want to eat lunch, and his feet were already tired of walking, even though the day was far from over, but the policeman might decide to take him home after they ate. True, he hadn’t said anything about him running away or even asked if he had, and Jerry wondered if perhaps he hadn’t thought of it. Maybe he just thought he was traveling.

    “What do you say, Jerry? Doesn’t a sandwich with a thick slice of ham sound good? Or maybe spaghetti? Liver and onions? And what about a piece of pie and some cold lemonade to drink?” The police officer patted his firm stomach. “Gil’s got some tasty food.”

    Just then Jerry’s stomach gave a loud, complaining growl. “Yeah.”

    “Good. I like company when I eat.”

    Together the small boy and the large policeman walked the rest of the way to the corner and into Gil’s diner.

*

    Officer Rockwell led the way across the shiny gray floors to the gleaming chrome bar stools with green tops. He gave a inclination of his head toward his small companion when Gil looked up.

    “Here, have a seat, Jerry. Gil, I’d like you to meet my young friend.” Rockwell seated himself and rested his boots on the footrest. In another minute the boy was seated beside him, having set his bundle on the floor beside his stool.

    Gil came over and leaned on the counter. His clean white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled partway up. Thin dark hair was brushed back on his head, and a smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Hi there.”

    “Hi.”

Did you ever say you were running away as a child?

What have you been up to this week?

Do you want to read the next part of this story?

Graham Quartet Interview

Good morning FFFs,

I'm in a hurry this morning since I'm late, so I'm going to just give you a few highlights from the week. Not that the week was extraordinary. ;)

Monday– I got the proof copy for "By Paths Unknown" and I wrote a short Memorial Day story. I was going to post it today, but since I was giving it away so much I decided you'd probably already read it. If not, you can get it for free if you ask me.

Wednesday– Microsoft Word decided that I had to verify my account in order for me to use it. Only it wouldn't let me verify it. It kept telling me my password wasn't valid, then, when I went to change it, that my username didn't match any account. :( Bother! I spent over an hour trying to get it to work, I chatted with someone, and finally I contacted the seller. Still waiting to hear back. Maybe today? 

Thursday – I watched the Scripp's National Spelling Bee! Wow!!!! I hadn't watched all the spelling bee since I had other things to do, but I watched all the finals last night. They started out with 16 kids and the first round not one missed. That was a record. Slowly, very slowly we lost a few. Then they were down to 8 spellers. Two rounds later we still had 8 spellers. They were told that they were going to have 3 more rounds (that's 3 more words each) and any who were still there after the 20th round would be declared co-champions. They all got their first words. And then their 2nd. On the final round the first one spelled and won! The second came up, got her word and said, "Give me the definition, I beg of you!!!" It was what she thought, and she got it right and won! So did the next speller, and the next. One had no idea how to spell the word but gave it his best shot and got it right! Just after midnight, their time, the final 8th speller won Co-Champion. All 8 had done it!!!! It was the first time in history that they had 8 winners!!! It was late, but it was sure fun to watch!

I was reminded of this interview yesterday and realized that some of you might enjoy reading it. I considered putting it into two posts, but it's a pretty quick read, and I had just sent it to some readers. I should have not sent it. ;) Oh, well. Enjoy!

Graham Quartet Interview

    The day was overcast, and a chilly wind was blowing. Though spring was coming, it hadn’t quite reached the northern woods of Minnesota as it had in my home state of Missouri, and the fire crackling brightly in the fireplace was very welcome. I had asked for an interview with the Graham Quartet and was finally able to make my schedule work with theirs. The morning had been lovely. They had taken me to their cabin in the woods, and then we drove to town and had lunch at their favorite diner. Now we were sitting together about the fire and I was ready to ask questions.

    Here is the transcription of the interview with a few added notes.

Author: First off, I just want to thank you four for letting me come up and do this interview. I’m sure my readers will enjoy it. (Four smiling faces nod at me.) I have a few questions, so let’s get started. Do all of you enjoy solving mysteries?

Matt: I think so. (He looks around at the others who nod.) I’ve never heard complaints about it.

Elsa: Sometimes it can be a bit of a challenge when you have other things going on too, but it is just so satisfying when you can bring a mystery to a close.

Author: What would you say was your favorite part of the mystery with the Day Maid? Now, just remember, my readers haven’t read the story yet, so don’t give anything away that might spoil it.

Tim: The ice cream, for sure!

(A general laugh followed that answer, and Matt said, “You’re always interested in food.”

Tim grinned and replied, “Hey, I’m a growing boy. Besides, you’ve got to admit that those ice cream sundaes were the best you’ve had.”

“Maybe,” Matt agreed. “I don’t know if they were the best, but they were good.”)

Author: Okay, now that we’ve established the fact that the ice cream sundaes were really good, was there any other favorite thing? Elsa? Matt? Selena?

Elsa: I think I would say just being on the beach and by the lake so much was probably my favorite thing. It was all so different than what we are used to here. (She turned her head and looked out at the trees which had the tiniest of green leaves on their branches.)

Matt: You know, that’s rather a hard question. I don’t want to tell anything to spoil the story, but I really enjoyed getting to know Lieutenant Ashwood. (He turned to his younger sister. “Your turn, Selena.”)

Selena: I don’t know. I really liked the beach, but getting to see a real lighthouse . . . (Her words died away as she shrugged.)

Author: Let’s talk a few minutes about your case up here in the winter with Guy Fox. Was there something you all learned that you hadn’t really thought of before?

Matt: One thing that I learned was not to discount any scrap of information. Some things, such as what a person is wearing, may seem insignificant, but in the end it may be of great importance.

Tim: You’ve got to be ready with a quick answer for anyone. I mean someone might start asking some nosy questions that you shouldn’t answer, but if you don’t, you know they’re going to get suspicious.

Author: That’s a good point, Tim, and brings up another question. Which one of you is the fastest at warding off those inquisitive questions?

Elsa, Matt, Tim: Selena.

Matt: She’s pretty quiet most of the time, but (He grinned at the girl curled up on the couch near Elsa.) when the need arises, she can give an answer before I’ve fully comprehended the question.

Author: Is it true that Tim asks the most questions?

Graham Quartet: Yes!

Elsa: Mom said he started asking questions when he was really young, and he hasn’t stopped yet.

Matt: And I don’t think he’s going to stop any time soon.

Author: If some of my readers were wanting to get started on solving mysteries, what tips would you give them? Tim, let’s start with you and just go around the room.

Tim: That’s easy, ask lots of questions about everything. But try not to be too direct if you’re trying to get information about a secret thing.

Selena: Always have someone to work with, so you can talk things over and share ideas. And make sure you pray about it too.

Elsa: Yes, prayer is a must. We might have given up the last case if we hadn’t taken the time to pray. Another thing would be to practice noticing details. Teach yourself to remember what someone was wearing, what someone said, or which direction they went. Notice anything and everything.

Matt: Now what am I supposed to add to all that? Hmm, well, learning Morse Code can be very helpful. And, like Selena mentioned, never go out to investigate on your own. It’s too easy to become discouraged or get into trouble when you’re by yourself.

Author: Those are some great tips. Thanks for sharing. Now, I do have a few random questions that some of my readers have suggested. Which one of you four is the tallest?

Matt: Tim.

Author: Really? Was he the tallest in the winter case?

Elsa: No, he was about my height, but he grew over the summer and is now just barely taller than Matt.

(Tim’s grin and look of satisfaction made me want to see for myself. I asked both boys to take their shoes off and stand back to back so I could see. Sure enough, Tim was about a quartet of an inch taller than his older brother.)

Author: Well, Tim, if you keep growing, are you still going to be able to fit through those small windows?”

Tim: I don’t see why not. It’s not like I’m getting fat or anything; if anything, I’m getting skinnier.

Matt: If the need arises, I can always give his feet a shove to get him the rest of the way in.

(There was much laughter in the room and a few more remarks were made about Tim’s height before we returned to the final questions.)

Author: Some of my readers might think that your adventures are along the lines of the Happy Hollisters, Nancy Drew, or the Hardy Boys. Do you consider that to be true? Elsa, it looks like you are going to burst. Do you want to go first?
Elsa: I sure hope we aren’t like Nancy Drew! She–
Matt: Uh oh, you’ve gotten Elsa on one of her soap boxes. Perhaps the rest of us should answer that first.
Elsa: I was going to keep things brief. (She made a face at her brother, but I could see the amusement in every face and was wondering what she would say.) I’ve never read the Happy Hollisters, so I can’t really compare their cases to ours. I think Tim might have read a few when they came out, so he might be able to answer that comparison. But back to Nancy Drew. I can’t stand those books! They are so unreal! She goes off on her own, almost gets killed most of the time, finds the bad guys that the police can’t find, and even disobeys authorities just so she can be the one to solve the mysteries! That’s not real life! How many young people go around almost getting killed all the time? It’s ridiculous, and–
Matt: Sorry, Elsa, but I’m interrupting here. You’d talk for a hour about the those books if you had time. (He smiled at his older sister before he turned to me.) The original Hardy Boys books aren’t bad. Yeah, they were always just a little smarter than the police, but I guess that’s what happens when you want to make the kids the heroes. Another thing is there were two of them.
Author: One of your own rules.
Matt: Yep. And they try to keep in touch with their family. Sometimes they help their dad or learn from him.
Elsa: Unlike Nancy Drew.
Author: I’ll have to agree with you, Elsa. I don’t much care for Nancy Drew myself. And the movies are only good for a laugh. Tim, you want to add anything about the Happy Hollisters?
Tim: How many are there? I’ve only read the first four or five, maybe six. They’re kind of young, but all the kids are involved and their parents usually are too, at least to some extent. It is a bit crazy though because they sure do travel a lot. Maybe we should do more traveling so we can find more mysteries.
Matt: Do they ever go to school? Or get older?
Tim: I think they go to school, but I don’t see how they could have time to study at all. As for getting older, I don’t know, I haven’t read all the books. They keep publishing a new one.

Author: That’s an interesting take. I wonder if most mystery books keep the kids the same age? But that’s off the subject; let’s move on to the next question. Who usually takes charge of a mystery case?
(All four siblings look at one another in silence.)
Matt: I don’t know if any of us really ‘takes charge’ so to speak. We usually discuss things and agree together about what we are going to do.
Selena: But Matt usually is more of the leader than the rest of us.
Elsa: That’s true. It’s usually Matt who takes charge, if someone needs to. I’ll give my input, but I’d rather not be the head.
Author: I’ve noticed that when you split up, it’s often Elsa & Tim and Matt & Selena. Is there a reason for that or is it just something that happened?
Tim: I don’t remember really thinking about it before. Why do we split up like that, guys?
Matt: I think it started by accident, but it seems to work well. I think the pairs seem to balance each other.
Elsa: Sometimes it just seemed better to have one of the boys along in each group and pairing one of us older ones with one of the younger ones–I didn’t say young, Tim–just came naturally.
Selena: In the latest mystery we did split up girls and guys a few times, but I do feel safer if Matt is around.

Author: Do you four see any other mysteries in your futures? Or have you decided to call it quits?
(A laugh greeted this question along with looks I couldn’t quite read.)
Matt: We didn’t plan for these mysteries. They just happened, so right now we couldn’t give any satisfactory answer except that we haven’t grown tired of helping solve them.
Author: I guess that means that my readers will just have to wait and see what happens.

Author: Well, it looks like that’s all the questions I have. Could you mention something about one of your siblings that my readers wouldn’t know about but might enjoy? Just for the fun of it.
Tim: Matt cooks the best steaks you’ve ever had! Hey, Matt, why don’t you tell Mom you’ll cook steaks tonight for supper?
Matt: Because we don’t have any steaks left. (He turned to me and added an invitation to come back and visit again and he’d make sure they had steaks, if I wanted any.) Elsa speaks French fluently.
Author: Really? I didn’t know that. I mean, I wondered if she knew any after the last mystery, but didn’t ask. When did you learn?
Elsa: I started learning when I was about ten. A family moved down from Quebec and spoke French. The children, all girls, and I played together all the time and I picked up quite a bit. Then I studied it in school.
Author: Have you taught any of your siblings any French?
Elsa: Not really. No one was interested. But here’s something about Selena. She once had a pet fox, and she taught a crow to say hello.
Author: What? She taught a crow how to talk? All the crows I know just sound like they are laughing at me. ‘Haw, Haw, Haw!’ How did you do it?
Selena: He had a broken wing and so I kept him until he could fly, and I just said it over and over again. He finally said it before I released him.
Author: Do you ever see him any more?
Selena: Yes. Not as often, but he always says ‘hello’ when he sees me.
(I leaned back in my chair. I would never have guessed that quiet, almost shy, Selena had taught a crow to say ‘hello.’)
Author: Now I am impressed. But what about Tim? Surely he has some talent or skill that I don’t know about.
Elsa: He plays the trumpet in band at school, and he sings.
Matt: He’s good too. Though when his voice changes he might have to find a new range.
Author: Will you sing something for me, Tim? I do love music.
Elsa: Tim, why don’t you ask Mom to come play the piano for you.

    And so our time ended with music. I stayed for dinner, and then the Quartet drove me to town to catch the train back home. All in all, it was a very informative time, and I hope to go back again. Perhaps another mystery will call me back to shadow the Graham Quartet as they try to solve another case. And I do want to taste that steak Matt promised me.

Did you watch the Spelling Bee?

Did you learn new things about the Quartet?

Have you read my Memorial Day story?

Ria's Birthday Gift – part 2

Hello, FFFs,

It's not cloudy thankfully! We've had enough rain and storms this week to last a while. There's lots of flooding, some voluntary evacuation of homes not far from us. Tornadoes hit nearby towns and at least one family from church had their home damaged. And that was just the tornado here. I heard there were 13 tornadoes in 24 hours across the state of Missouri. Crazy! Today is supposed to be sunny. And humid, I'm sure.

I've stayed busy this week. But not with writing. In fact, I didn't write anything! Ugh! That was kind of sad, but rather normal for me when I'm finishing up another book. Only this time I was getting ready for the release of "Hymns in the Hills" on Monday, and formatting "By Paths Unknown" so I could send it to beta-readers. But even though I haven't been writing, I have been keeping busy.

When I'm not working on getting ready to release one book, or getting a proof copy ready of the other, I've been updating images on my website. And adding a new audio book. Yep, "Dylan's Story" is available for your listening pleasure. :)

Perhaps next week I can write. Maybe. I want to. We'll see.

Now I hope you enjoy the last of this story about Ria. :)

Ria's Birthday Gift.

Part 2

    It was only after the boys had pulled up chairs or taken seats on the kitchen floor for lack of chairs, that Jimmy looked around puzzled. “Hey, Ria, where’s Mom?”

    “Out,” Ria replied rather glumly.

    And Pete said cheerfully, “I suppose that leaves you the queen bee around here.”

    “I’d as soon not be sometimes,” Ria muttered, feeling sorry for herself. It seemed that everywhere she went there were boys. Why, there were even more boys in her class at school than there were girls. Picking up her plate, she shoved back her chair and after stepping over first Johnny’s legs, then Fred’s, she reached the kitchen sink.

    “Come on, Ria,” Fred coaxed. “There’s enough gloomy weather outside to dampen anyone’s spirits, can’t you at least give us a smile to brighten the room for a moment?”

    “Careful Fred,” Jack teased, watching Ria’s face as he spoke, “A moment of light would most likely be a flash of lightning, and you’re sitting the closest to her.”

    At that Ria turned around and crossed her arms. “You’re impossible,” she told him.

    “Yep,” Jack agreed with a grin and a wink, “I know.”

    For a moment Ria stood, a scowl on her face, as she eyed the boyish faces before her, but the fourteen twinkling eyes that looked back at her and the seven grins which flashed back were too much. Her scowl disappeared and a smile replaced it.

    Stepping back over the legs in her way, Ria crossed the room. Before she could disappear upstairs to grab her books, Dave and Chris pushed into the room with Mr. Mitchell behind them.

    Leaving the house for school with her brothers and cousins, Ria felt the day wasn’t quite right without her mother’s good morning kiss and her usual call to the boys to “take care of your sister.”

    “Ed,” Ria quickened her steps to catch her oldest brother who was sixteen.

    Ed slowed down. “Yep?”

    “You will take care of me even if Mama didn’t tell you to this morning, won’t you?”

    “Of course I will,” Ed looked down at her and grinned. “You don’t think I’d leave you to the mercy of those two,” and he jerked his head back towards Chris and Dave who were trudging along behind, “do you?”

    Satisfied, Ria shook her head.

    “Let me carry your books, Ria,” Jack offered, and Ria handed them over feeling very special. No one had carried her books to school before.

    When the last bell had rung and school was over, Ria found her mother waiting for her at the door. “Mama!” Ria hugged her. “Where did you go this morning?”

    Emma Mitchell smiled. “I went to Uncle Edmund’s. And now come, he has your birthday present ready.”

    Ria gave a skip of excitement. At last, the birthday present she had been promised had finally been finished. What could it be? “Where is it?” Ria asked when she saw Uncle Edmund sitting in his truck and she and her mother were walking over to him.

    “Out at Uncle Edmund’s, so climb in.”

    Ria scrambled into the seat next to her uncle and Mrs. Mitchell followed.

    “Hi, Uncle Edmund. Are you taking the boys home now?”

    Grinning, Edmund shook his head. “Nope.”

    Ria was full of questions about her present as the truck bumped over the roads, but she only got answers that mystified and puzzled her more then ever.

    At last Uncle Edmund stopped the truck before the farmhouse and said as they climbed out, “Now close your eyes, Ria. Your mother and I’ll lead you, but don’t you peek!”

    Holding back her giggles and keeping her eyes closed was difficult, but Ria managed to do it, wondering where in the house they were going. At last she was told she could look and her eyes flew open.

    She blinked and for a minute was confused. She was in a bedroom and Aunt Louise was lying in bed.

    Calling softly, Aunt Louise smiled, “Come over here, Ria, and see your presents.”

    Moving over to the bed, Ria suddenly gasped and clasped her hands softly. There, snuggled up beside her aunt, were two babies!

    “They’re both girls,” Uncle Edmund whispered. “This one is Emma and that one is Lucy.”

    “Oh!” It was all Ria could say though her face was beaming and her eyes shining like two stars.

    “Would you like to hold them?”

    “Oh, could I?” she gasped, almost too excited to breathe.

    “Who do you want first?” her mother asked, preparing to lift one of the little bundles.

    “Both!”

    Ria’s exclamation brought soft laughs from the three adults and Edmund said, “Let her,” and settled his niece in a large easy chair with pillows and cushions.

    Mrs. Mitchell carried one baby and nestled it in her daughter’s right arm while her twin picked up the other.

    A sigh of delight came from Ria as she gazed down first into one tiny face and then the other. “My own special cousins that aren’t boys!” she whispered to them. “I’ll make sure the boys don’t tease you too much,” she continued, completely forgetting her mother, uncle and aunt who watched her. “And when you get bigger, we’ll play things that girls want to play like tea parties and dolls. And you can sleep in my room because the boys aren’t allowed in there, only girls.”

    One of the soft bundles stirred and the tiny rosebud mouth opened and yawned.

    “Come on, Ria,” Emma whispered to her daughter. “Let’s let Aunt Louise get some rest. You get to go back and tell the others about the babies.”

    Ria scarcely contained her squeal of excitement. To tell the gang, for she knew they’d all be at her house, that there were more girl cousins would be great fun, though she didn’t want to part with the babies yet. Reluctantly, with a parting kiss for each one, Ria allowed her mother to settle the babies back beside Aunt Louise. Before slipping from the room, Ria leaned over the bed to kiss her aunt and whisper, “Thank you. Those are the best birthday presents I could ever want!”

    Grandma Foster was coming out of the kitchen when Ria, her mother and uncle passed down the hall and into the living room. “What did you think of your present, Ria?” Grandma asked, her eyes twinkling.

    Throwing her arms about her grandmother, Ria exclaimed in a low voice that carried her pent up excitement in its tones, “Oh, they are just darling! And to think, they are both girls! Grandma, none of the boys were as cute as Emma and Lucy when they were babies.”

    “Not even Caleb?” Grandma questioned, knowing that the youngest grandchild had been thought by Ria to be ‘the sweetest thing.’

    Ria shook her head vigorously. “Not even Caleb or anyone else,” she insisted. “But now I have to go tell the gang about them!” and she dashed off while the others exchanged smiles.

Have you ever had cousins born near your birthday?

Have you had a lot of rain and storms this week?

What do you want to read next?

Ria's Birthday Gift – Part 1

Good morning Friday Fiction Fans,

It's a lovely morning here. The windows are wide open and the birds are noisy. The sky is clear, and a wonderful breeze is keeping things fresh. It's supposed to get into the mid 80s today. We'll see if we turn the AC on or not. We did yesterday because it was just humid and hot. Neither my mom, nor I do well in heat and humidity.

This week has been slow on the writing side. I wrote some on Monday and Tuesday. But on Wednesday and yesterday I was typing up 24 pages of notes my mom had taken about a book, so I didn't write. But I did finish typing the notes last night.

I got everything out for the Book Release Tour of  "Hymns in the Hills" which was pretty exciting. It will be the very first time I've ever released a novel with a book tour. Always before I've published it, posted it on my blog and said, "Here's another book, readers! Enjoy!" Or something like that. ;) But, after releasing "His Law is Love" with a book tour, and seeing all the wonderful reviews show up, I thought I'd try it on my own. And, in case you were wondering, the tour is the last week of the month.

In chatting with a reader, I discovered that she really wanted another Ria and the Gang story. Well, I can't say that I blame her. I kind of like these characters too. I am writing another story, but haven't gotten very far yet. But I did realize that I had this story written, but had never posted it. Yay! You all get a new story to read. :) Only it really isn't new.

And if you haven't read "Home Fires of the Great War," sorry. Ria is one of the characters in it.

I hope you enjoy this story.

Ria’s Birthday Gift

    “Ria,” Mrs. Mitchell called upstairs to her daughter.

    In a moment, nine-year-old Ria appeared at the top of the stairs. “You want me, Mama?”

    “Uncle Edmund is bringing the boys over to stay for a few days,” Mrs. Mitchell looked up at her dark haired daughter, “so I’m going to need your help to get beds ready for them.”

    Ria couldn’t help a sigh. She sometimes wished that some girls could come over to sleep for a change instead of just boys. The only problem was, there weren’t any girls old enough to spend the night. Anna was not yet one and Lillian was barely two. “Where will they sleep?” she asked soberly.

    Smiling, Mrs. Mitchell replied brightly, “In the boys’ rooms.” She looked up at the half sad expression on the face above her. “Don’t you think you can live with some extra boys for a few days? They are here almost every day anyway. The only difference is that this time they won’t go home when the others do.”

    Slowly sitting down on the top step, Ria propped her chin in her hands. “I know. I just wish Aunt Carrie could come visit and then Millie and Allie could sleep in my room. Mama,” Ria suddenly looked up, “do the boys have to come in my room?”

    With a shake of her head, Mrs. Mitchell answered, “No, Dear. Your room is going to be off limits for the boys unless you invite them in.”

    “Well, okay then. At least I’ll have a place to get away from Dave and Chris and their teasing.” Then she giggled. “And from Jack’s teasing too.” Somehow, however, when Jack teased her, it was a fun tease, a kind she enjoyed.

    Mrs. Mitchell gave a chuckle; she quite agreed with Ria, Dave’s and Chris’s teasing sometimes when a little too far, but Jack was a lot like his father, Emma’s twin: fun but kind. “Shall we get the rooms ready now?” she asked as Ria continued to sit.

    “Now,” and Ria sprang up ready to help. It would be fun to have her cousins over, she decided. Even if they were all boys.

    “Mama.” It was nearly time for Uncle Edmund to bring the boys, and Ed, Chris and the twins were waiting on the porch while Mrs. Mitchell worked on supper and Ria set the table. “Mama, do you think Uncle Edmund will bring my birthday present he and Aunt Louise promised me?”

    “I don’t think he’ll bring it tonight, Dear,” Mrs. Mitchell answered. “He’ll be too busy trying to make sure he has all the boys.”

    The two in the kitchen shared a laugh. Uncle Edmund had been known to forget one or two of his sons before, or to take some wrong boys home.

    A shout from the porch told Mrs. Mitchell and Ria that the extra boys had arrived.

    Lively chatter, teasing and laughter surrounded the supper table that night in the Mitchell home. Little Larry, the youngest of Uncle Edmund and Aunt Louise’s children sat happily next to his Uncle Mitch, delighted to be a part of the gathering. Ria looked rather alone, her mother thought, sitting there surrounded on all sides by boys, but at that moment she was enjoying it.

    “You know, boys,” Uncle Mitch remarked when not another mouthful could be taken by anyone, “the ladies made supper . . .”

    “I’ll wash,” Fred volunteered smiling at his aunt.

    “I think the three J’s can dry and put away the dishes,” Pete began delegating, “and Dave and Chris can sweep the floors. Ed, you and I can clear off the table.”

    Ed nodded. “Let’s get to it then.”

    Dave and Chris didn’t take too kindly to the idea of having to sweep the floor and Chris protested, “There are two of us, how are we both supposed to sweep?”

    Chuckling a little, Mr. Mitchell offered a solution. “One can sweep the kitchen and the other here in the dining room.”

    Delighted that her usual evening tasks were taken away from her, Ria soon had a game of Chinese checkers started with her father and Larry, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Everyone gathered about the radio to listen to their favorite shows before Mr. Mitchell took the Bible from the shelf and read their evening chapter.

    Thursday morning dawned cloudy and rainy. Ria gazed out the window and sighed. “Maybe it will stop raining by the time school is out,” she thought, turning from the window to pull on her school clothes.

    Much laughter was coming from the boys’ rooms as Ria left her own and started slowly down the stairs wishing again that she had girl cousins mixed in with the boys.

    “Good Morning, Ria,” her father greeted her, looking up from the morning paper and his cup of coffee.

    “Good Morning, Daddy,” She replied, dropping down into a chair at the kitchen table.

    “Why the long face? Did the boys wake you up too early?”

    Ria shook her head. “No, I just wish I had a special cousin that was a girl that lived nearby.”

    “Which of the gang would you get rid of?”

    Frowning in thought a minute, Ria looked up and grinned. “No one,” she answered. “But where is Mama?”

    Her father picked up his paper again. “She had to leave, but she should be back before you get home from school. She left breakfast all ready for you,” and Mr. Mitchell nodded towards the counter.

    To have her mother leave before she had even come downstairs in the morning was, to Ria, unheard of. After she had filled her plate and resumed her seat, she asked, “Where did she go?”

    “Hmm?” came from behind the newspaper.

    “Where did Mama go?”

    “Out. Where are those boys?” and Mr. Mitchell glanced over at the clock, folded his paper and stood up. Moving to the bottom of the stairs he called, “Boys, hurry up or you’ll be late for school!”

    A thumping of feet was heard in the hall and then a clatter of steps on the stairs before the six older boys burst into the kitchen with five-year-old Larry trailing behind them.

    “Where are Chris and Dave?” Mr. Mitchell asked, noticing the absence of the younger boys.

    Ed shrugged, “They said they weren’t going to school today.”

    And Jack asked, “Shall we toss them over our shoulders and carry them, Uncle Mitch?”

    Mr. Mitchell laughed. “I think I’ll go talk with them before we resort to that.” And he departed.

Do you have more girl or boy cousins?

Have you read "Home Fires"?

What would you do if you were the only girl cousin?