Responsibility - Part 2

Good morning FFFFs!

The sun is shining here and it looks like it's going to be another hot, humid day. We had to water our flower garden yesterday and our lilac bush because things have been so dry. We've had chances of rain, and even some lovely lightning storms, but no rain here. I knew there would come a time this summer when I wished for some wonderful rain. ;)

This week has been good. I worked two days and had training for the upcoming election. The more I work in the county clerk's office and see all the work that goes on behind the scenes of an election, the more I want to tell people to GET OUT AND VOTE! I know every state does things a bit differently, but I'm 99% certain that we do not have any dead people, dogs, or illegal persons voting in my county. So, if you are old enough to vote, please make sure you do! And if you aren't encourage your parents or older siblings to get out and vote. Make a difference in this country one vote at a time. Those votes add up.

I've been doing more work on Writing Camp stuff this week. Plus signing up 4 more campers. I've also gotten back to the 3rd book in my Woodbreak series. I'm doing some serious editing. Hopefully, this will enable the ending to actually come together like it's supposed to. ;)

Here's the next part of your story. I hope you enjoy it.

Responsibility

Part 2

    Out by the stables, Preston, Levi and Raymond were saddling their horses. “Dani better have a good reason for not getting back on time,” Raymond remarked. “She sure has Mother worried.”
    “Not to mention chores that haven’t been attended to. Preston,” Levi eyed his brother over the back of his horse as he tightened the cinch, “if you don’t turn that child over your knee when we get her back home—”
    “Easy Levi,” Preston remonstrated, “I thought I was going handle her.”
    “You are. Just don’t be too soft on her.”
    Mounting his horse, Raymond put in, “Worrying Mother and skipping her chores four days in a week shouldn’t be taken lightly, Preston. If I had tried that even twice when I was her age—”
    “You did,” Preston laughed. “As did Levi.”
    “Hmm,” Levi grunted, “seems as though I remember something about that.”
    As the three brothers were about to ride out of the gate, one of the men from the ranch came into view and Levi called out to him, “Jacobson, have you seen Dani?”
    The man shook his head and cradled the sling his right arm was in a little closer to himself. “Not since she left.”
    “Did she say where she was going?” inquired Preston.
    Scratching his head in thought, Jacobson at last shook his head again. “No, she didn’t say anything to me. Is she missing?”
    “Yes. We’re going out to look for her.” Then struck with a thought, Preston instructed, “Jacobson, tell Hawkins that if we aren’t back in an hour, he’s to get the men into search parties and start looking. If she’s not in the few places she usually goes, there’s no telling where she is.”
    The man nodded and the horsemen rode off. For several minutes they rode together in silence. At last Raymond remarked, “If we’re to check her favorite places, we’d better split up.”
    “I was just thinking the same thing,” Levi nodded. “Ray, head up to the promontory. Preston, why don’t you take her fishing hole and I’ll head over to the south pasture. Fire two quick shots if you find her. If we don’t hear the shots we’ll meet in the meadow near the creek. The sun won’t set for another hour, so there should be plenty of time.”
    This was agreed on and they each set off in a different direction. Preston noticed that he had been assigned the most likely place for their little sister to be, while Levi had chosen the most unlikely place. Smiling to himself, he realized that Levi was not in a mood to deal with Danielle and he sincerely hoped that he or Raymond would find her.
    The late summer sun was warm, but Preston was grateful for its light. It would make tracking her horse a little easier if she wasn’t in her usual haunts. But if she wasn’t there, where could she be?
    The evening stillness was descending on nature as Preston rode up to Dani’s favorite fishing spot. “Dani!” he called.
    There was no answer save for the sound of the water tumbling over a small waterfall some fifty feet away.
    Swinging down from his horse, Preston dropped the reins and looked about. There was no sign of a light colored horse anywhere. Upon hearing a movement on the other side of a large oak tree near the bank of the stream, Preston frowned and his long strides quickly carried him across the few separating yards; however, the only thing there was a squirrel who, on catching sight of him, scampered up the tree and scolded.
    “Dani?” he shouted, and again there was no answer.
    “Well, it’s pretty clear she’s isn’t anywhere around here.” With a shake of his head, Preston remounted, turned the horse’s head towards the meadow and nudged him into a canter.
    He reached the large pleasant meadow only minutes before Raymond arrived. “No sign of her?” he asked as his younger brother rode up.
    Raymond shook his head. “No, she hasn’t been up there since last week.”
    “Last week? How do you know?”
    “There’s no new notch.”
    “Notch? Ray, what are you talking about?”
    On seeing that Preston was confused, Raymond quickly explained. “Didn’t you know she puts a new notch on that old dead tree near the promontory every time she goes there? She told me that in the spring when we went up there together. I was up last week and counted the notches as I always do; it’s the same number it was then.”
    Preston sighed. “Hopefully Levi will find her. While we wait for him or the signal, let’s ride around the meadow and look for any sign of her coming this way. That way if Levi doesn’t find her . . .”
    “I was just thinking the same thing.”
    Each taking a different direction, Preston and Raymond started off around the meadow, hoping to find something or hear the signal shots from Levi announcing Danielle had been found. There were no shots and in another five minutes Levi rode into the meadow.
    “Any sign of her?” he called to the others.
    “No,” Preston shouted back.
    “Dani!” Levi bellowed.
    A sudden shout from Raymond brought the other brothers to him at a dead run. Raymond was out of the saddle and down on one knee in the shadow of the surrounding woods by a small but distinct trail. “Hoof prints,” he pointed out as Preston and Levi joined him. “Fresh ones too and the right size for Dani’s horse.”
    “You really think she’d try exploring these woods alone?” Preston wondered. “Without permission?”

Have you had sunshine or rain this week?

Do you get to vote this year?

Where do you think Dani is?

Responsibility - Part 1

Good morning, FFFs!

I hope you have had a good week. Mine has been good. A little different than I thought it was going to be since I only worked two days this week instead of four. But that's okay. I've been able to get other things done. Like more writing. And working on some other projects. Work has been fun. I've done a lot of filing. And now that I've been sworn in as an actual Deputy Clerk, I have been able to vote people which is really fun.

Yesterday my grandparents, aunt, and my brother and his family were over to celebrate my grandma's 92nd birthday. She enjoyed getting to spend it with her husband, two daughters, a son-in-law, some grandchildren and all 8 of her great grandchildren. It was a busy but fun day. Some of us spent time outside between lunch and dessert. It was warm and muggy, but not as hot as it has been.

Today's story was written and posted many years ago. It has several parts so I hope you enjoy it. I'm trying to get something new written to post, but none of my stories seem to want to get finished. *looks at my stories suspiciously*

Responsibility

Part 1

    Preston drew rein at the Perry ranch and climbed down from the buggy. “Hi, Raymond,” he greeted his younger brother.
    Raymond strode over. “Hello. How are things in town?”
    Shrugging, Preston turned to unhitch the horse. “Just fine. Lend me a hand here, will you. Mr. Birks—”
    “Preston!” a new voice shouted from the stables and both brothers turned. “Did you see Dani anywhere when you drove in?”
    The eldest Perry son shook his head and straightened up a moment. “No, Levi, I didn’t see any sign of her. Why?”
    Pushing his hat back on his head and looking disgusted, Levi approached the buggy with his quick stride. “She went for a ride right after lunch, isn’t back yet, and she has chores waiting. This is the fourth time this week she’s been late, and Raymond, when she does get back, don’t help her with her chores.”
    Preston finished unhitching the horse as he said, “Well, I wouldn’t worry yet, Levi. You know how she is when she is off riding that horse of hers. Give her a little more time.” Having taken over the roll as “head of the family” since their father had died nine years before, Preston tended to be more lenient with his youngest sister than Levi. Still, there was a limit even with him, and seeing Levi’s frown deepen, promised, “I’ll have a talk with her when she gets back. And Ray, Levi’s right, don’t help her. She needs to learn to be responsible.”
    “All right,” Raymond agreed easily. “I’ll let her do her own chores.”

    Several minutes later the three brothers entered the house and were greeted by Mrs. Perry. “Supper will be ready shortly,” she told them as they kissed her. “But you have plenty of time to wash up first. By the way, where is Danielle?”
    “Late again,” Levi grumbled before taking the stairs two at a time as he went to clean up for supper. Raymond followed.
    Mrs. Perry sighed and looked up at her eldest son. “You may have to do something, Preston. I talked to her last time and it doesn’t seem to have done any good.” Sometimes this youngest daughter of hers was more tiring and bewildering to Mrs. Perry then her three sons had been when they were young.
    “I plan to have a talk with her this evening,” Preston assured her. “Don’t worry, Mother, she’ll learn, even if it’s the hard way.” Smiling, he bent and kissed her again. “Now,” he added quickly in low tones, “I’d better hurry and clean up before Natalie comes in.” He had heard his sister’s voice speaking to someone in the dining room and now hurried after his brothers.
    Mrs. Perry smiled after him, thankful for such a strong, clear headed eldest son to lean on.
    “Mother,” Natalie asked, coming in moments after Preston’s form had disappeared up the stairs, “have the boys come in yet?”
    Mrs. Perry laughed, “Yes, dear, they are just washing up. But Danielle hasn’t returned from her ride yet.”
    “Honestly, Mother!” Natalie exclaimed in exasperation. “Why can’t she learn to be on time?” Natalie’s dislike of anything or anyone unpunctual was well known in the house and had been a source of grief and strife several times not only for Danielle, but also for the boys.
    “Preston has promised to talk to her,” Mrs. Perry remarked quietly.
    “I don’t know what good talking will do,” Natalie grumbled, “but if he promised, he’ll do it.”

    Danielle still hadn’t returned from her ride when the family sat down to eat. Several times Mrs. Perry glanced anxiously towards the window in hopes of seeing her young daughter riding in, but as the minutes ticked by and still there was no sign of her, she began to grow restless and toyed with the food on her plate. Danielle had never been quite this late before.
    Watching the worried frown begin to creep over his mother’s face, Preston placed his napkin beside his plate and stood up. “Stop fretting, Mother,” he smiled. “We’ll go out and find Dani. Come on, boys.”
    “She’s probably not too far away either,” Raymond added, pushing back his chair. “She could be fishing.”
    Taking one last swallow of coffee, Levi threw his napkin on the table and stood. “It shouldn’t take us long to find her, but” he added scowling, “she’s taking care of her chores before she eats her supper.”
    Putting on a brave smile, Mrs. Preston said, “I told her if she was late again she would have to eat bread and butter in the kitchen.”
    “You shouldn’t have told her that, Mother,” Raymond laughed. “You know she’d rather stay comfortable in her dirty riding clothes than get dressed up for table.” Then he dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek and followed his brothers out of the dining room.

What was your week like?

Have you read this story before?

Do you have stories that don't want to end?

The Best Park

Good morning, FFFs!

This was my first week of work. After going in at 8:30 the first day (Tuesday), I have been going in at 10 the rest of the week because things are so slow. Usually there are more people coming in to vote, but not this year. We aren't sure if it's because they aren't going on vacation so won't be out of town on election day, don't think about it because we just had an election and there really hasn't been much advertising, they are scared of the virus and don't want to get out, or what. But I've had a lot of time to spend filing new voter registration cards, pulling out the cards of those who have moved out of the county or have died. I am supposed to get sworn in on Monday. Then I can officially get people voted.

I really haven't done much writing this week. Last evening was actually the first time I've written since Saturday. And I haven't done much reading either. But I have worked on formatting blog posts, and attempting to find images for the covers of two Christmas stories. And other things.

Today's story is lighthearted and fun. At least I hope you enjoy it. :) I first posted it way back in 2011.

The Best Park

    It was a beautiful day. The sun was a gleaming ball of fire in the azure sky while fluffy, billowing clouds were piled here and there like cotton candy islands in a sea of blue kool-aid. Blowing softly, the breeze held just enough chill in it to indicate the approaching autumn weather. However, the grass was still green and the leaves had yet to change color near the G. Tonnovic dog park in Circle City. The park was large with several tall trees, some bushes and plenty of place to run. It was the most popular dog park of the city, though no one was quite sure why.
    “I’ve taken my dog, Colonel, to every other park,” Mr. Reed remarked to a fellow dog owner, “but he only sniffs around and runs a little. He comes home with just as much energy as before. But for some reason, when I bring him here, he runs all over the place and is worn out when I take him home.”
    “That happens to your dog, too?” Mrs. Phennel looked surprised. “I thought it only happened to Coco because she was a beagle and followed every scent made by other dogs. She always sleeps for hours afterwards.”
    “Huh,” Mr. Reed grunted. “Colonel is a golden, but– Look at them!” The two owners watched as the dogs began a mad dash across the park, barking and fully excited. It was not only Colonel and Coco, there was another dog who soon joined in the race all the way to the fence where they suddenly stopped, tails wagging furiously.
    Mr. Reed shook his head. “All I have to do here is wait about thirty minutes and my dog will be tired out.” And the man sat down on a bench and unfolded his paper to read.
    Mrs. Phennel puzzled a little over Coco’s strange behavior, but since she seemed to be having a good time, she soon found herself a bench and pulled out her cell phone to check her e-mails.

    Meanwhile the dogs were sniffing about eagerly.
    “I know a rabbit was just here,” Colonel barked.
    “She went in this hole, and I can’t get her to come out,” whined Coco, trying to push her nose into a burrow.
    “Look!” The sudden yelp from Dixie was enough to bring Coco’s head out of the hole. There on the fence, just out of their reach was a squirrel. He was flirting his tail and chattering at them.
    “I’ll catch him,” Colonel thundered in a deep bark. “Watch,” and with a bound he leapt after the little grey creature. But the squirrel was too quick for him and dashed away across the grass.
    In a second the three dogs were hot on its tail until it scampered up a tree to sit on a branch just over their heads and scold them merrily.
    After several seconds of barking up the tree, Colonel discoverd another squirrel coming down from a tree supposedly to bury a nut on the other side of the park. With a bark to the smaller dogs to follow him, the golden dashed after the nut hider with Coco and Dixie at his heels. For a fleeting second it seemed as though the squirrel was going to remain where she was, but in a flash she was scampering, not up the tree, but across the grass to disappear into a log.
    “Can you fit in there, Dixie?” Colonel barked.
    Trying to squeeze in the small hole, the mix whined, “I can’t. I must have eaten too many treats. Coco,” she yipped, looking at the beagle, “can you fit?”
    Coco wagged her tail but backed away. She had tried before and had gotten her nose stuck for her pains. Before she could make any excuses, from the other end of the log there appeared, not the squirrel who went into the log, but a rabbit!
    Great was the astonishment of the three dogs but they soon gave chase and the rabbit led them on a wild run around trees, from this side of the park to the other until it darted into some bushes and disappeared.
    For some minutes, the dogs sniffed around the bushes, tongues hanging out and tails waving like banners. At last, having satisfied themselves that the rabbit wasn’t coming out, Dixie led the others away from the bushes. They thought the chase was over and Coco was getting ready to return to her owner when another rabbit, or was it the same one, popped out of a hole almost at her feet and darted off.
    “It’s a rabbit!” Coco yapped excitedly. “Catch it!”
    Colonel and Dixie were already following the cottontail, and had it not suddenly disappeared down a hole, they most certainly would have caught it.
    “Whew,” Colonel panted. “We almost had it.”
    “I didn’t really want it,” Dixie barked, pretending she didn’t care.
    Coco quivered with the excitement of the race. “If I could chase a few more of those things, I might get in shape to fit in these holes,” and she poked her paw down one, trying to feel a furry body.
    “Make a wish and it comes true,” barked Dixie as the first squirrel came down out of his tree to flaunt his tail at them quite saucily as though daring them to chase him.
    They did. They didn’t come close to catching him, but more energy was spent as the dogs dashed madly around trees and tried to climb them, while Mr. Bushytail kept just out of reach. It was really quite aggravating, and the dogs barked incessantly over their failure to catch the gray creature who laughed at them.
    Before they could finish venting their feelings, they were interrupted by the second squirrel coming down with another nut. There was another chase, followed immediately by another rabbit to dash after.
    At last, when both rabbits and squirrels remained hidden in ground or tree top, Colonel, Coco and Dixie made their way back to their owners, panting heavily and with sides heaving from their races.
    Mr. Reed folded up his paper and snapping on Colonel’s leash, led him to the truck. “I hope your dog is as tired as mine,” he called out to Mrs. Phennel who was opening the car door for Coco to jump in.
    With a laugh Mrs. Phennel waved and drove away.

    All was quiet at the G. Tonnonvic dog park. Evening was drawing to a close and all good dogs and their owners were at home. In the shelter of one of the large trees an unusual group was gathered. Two squirrels and three rabbits.
    “I think things went well today,” chattered Mr. Bushytail.
    “But they almost caught me,” the youngest rabbit ventured.
    “Just run faster next time,” Mr. Cottontail told him. “And remember to zig-zag. I looked out of the bushes after the dogs were following you and they were all going straight.” He reached up his back foot and scratched his ear.
    Mrs. Bushytail twitched her tail in her eagerness. “I got several nuts buried while you were all working on keeping those dogs busy elsewhere. But I must say, if that smallest dog stops eating treats, she may be able to fit in our log.”
    “That is true,” Mrs. Cottontail agreed.
    “Don’t worry,” chattered Mr. Bushytail, “all dogs are fed more treats then is good for them I’m sure. But they will never refuse one.”
    Yawning, Mr. Cottontail remarked, “I think the plan to tire out the city’s dogs is working just fine. But I must get some sleep before tomorrow comes.”
    The five animals departed for their respected homes to rest until the next day when more dogs would come to the park. And that is the secret of G. Tonnovich dog park in Circle City and why all dog owners love to bring their pets there to run.

How was your week?

Have you been writing much?

Do you have any dogs you would like to take to this park?

Independence Day Poem and Pony Bob

Happy "almost" 4th of July!

And if you are from Canada, Happy "late" Canada Day!

The week disappeared and I'm not sure what happened to it. Let me think, what did I do this week?

Saturday– I worked outside in the morning, and was even out in some rain. And I got in the chiggers. I could have done without the nine chigger bites on one ankle.

Sunday– I helped in Children's Church and got to see what lesson I'll be teaching this month. I also got some things figured out about the Christmas Play I was asked to write and direct this year.

Monday– It was one of those days where you have a long list of things to do and everything seems to take longer and at the end of the day you aren't sure if you got much done even if you list is mostly crossed off. That was also the day I decided to set aside Book 3 of my new series and let it sit for a bit. Something just wasn't working and while we have an idea of what it might be, I don't have time or brain power to go back and fix it right now. So you can be praying it will all come together later.

Tuesday– My aunt came down for the day. She hasn't been down since . . . I don't know when. So that was fun. I was able to get some things done.

Wednesday– It was our first day of Camp! It was exciting to open it with 70 people counting the Aunties. This was also the day I almost drank a brown recluse spider. He was in my glass of water and I was talking and didn't notice him. Until he tickled my lips. Then I spit out my water and dumped my glass. I'm still not sure if he was actually in my mouth or just almost.

Thursday– I worked on this and that, and the other thing.

One thing I did this week–though I don't remember when–was make a list of ALL the stories I've posted on my blog (that haven't been turned into novels) except the Christmas ones. Anyone want to guess how many I've written? Now I can look at the list in my planner and see the date(s) I've posted any stories. Hopefully this will mean I can repost some stories for you.

Anyway, here's a poem and a short story. Hope you enjoy them!

Independence Day

If I lived in Philadelphia, my heart would swell with pride,
In 1776 I’d stand, with patriots at my side.

If I served at Ft. McHenry and the British came to fight,
In 1812 I’d wait to see Old Glory in the light.

If I traveled west by wagon, I would gladly stop and say
A prayer of thanks to God above on Independence Day.

If I flew a plane with Rickenbacker above the foreign skies,
I’d be fighting for our freedom and its glow would fill my eyes.

If I were on board the Missouri in 1945,
I’d thank the Lord that peace had come and I was still alive.

If I joined Neil Armstrong in his trip up to the moon,
I’d wear a grin because I’d know my flag was going too.

So many years of history, of battles, folks, and things,
Our flag still flies in freedom’s skies while my heart loudly sings.

This land of 50 states and stars, the land I call my own,
Is for the brave, the true, the free, where Liberty calls home.

Where should I then in this great land its birth to celebrate?
Two hundred forty-four years have gone, God bless the United States.

If I were east in Washington D.C. I’d watch the fireworks display.
If I were up in Boston, I’d hear the Boston Pops play.

If I were in west in California I’d see a dazzling sight.
If I were down south in Austin, I might celebrate all night!

But I am here with family, in the middle of the land,
No fireworks or speeches, and no military band.

But I’ll still give thanks for the U.S.A.
And celebrate Independence Day!

~**~

February, 1872
Union Town
Nebraska Territory

    . . . This month has been rather interesting because we have had a visitor, Pony Bob Haslam. He was traveling west, but the storms stopped him. He rode for the Pony Express years ago and has been with us now for two weeks. He is a great favorite especially since he told David that Storm was one of the finest horses he has seen in years. He tells the most interesting stories in the evenings about his life and even a few about the Pony Express. The boys said I have to tell you the story that Mr. Haslam told us last night. And they say I have to write it in story form. I told them that I wasn’t sure I could or that you would be too interested in it, but Ben asked, “She has brothers doesn’t she?” So, I will do my best.

    It was a beautiful mid summer morning in Nevada when Pony Bob turned his steps in the direction of the Pony Express station. He had been a rider for some time and enjoyed it. Of course there were times of great danger and times when great wisdom was needed, but on the whole what could be more exciting then carrying the mail through snow & hail, cold & heat, outlaws & Indians? At the station Pony Bob waited for the rider to come in from the east. Soon he came, and Pony Bob was on his way west. His mustang made pretty good time, and Pony Bob saw no sign of Indians. He had ridden for quite awhile and just up ahead was the Reese River Station. There he would change to a new horse and continue on his way. His first horse was getting worn out. It had already carried him seventy-five miles that day. Just a little farther down the road was the station. Pony Bob blew his horn to let the station master know he was coming, so that he could get a new horse ready. But alas, when he rode up, there was the station master but no horse! “Sorry,” the station master said. “Don’t have any horses ‘round here a’tall. Not even a mule.” “What!” Pony Bob exclaimed.  “What’s happened to ‘em all?” “Gone to fight the Indians,” was the reply. There was nothing for Pony Bob to do but get back on his weary horse and head for the next station.
    Upon arriving at Bucklands, he found much to his great relief, a new rider and horse. But his relief was short lived. Richardson refused to go. Nothing like that had ever happened before. “I weren’t quite sure if he was sick or just plain scared. All’s I know is he dumped the blanket,” Pony Bob later reported. So after switching the mochila (the special pouch that holds the letters) to a fresh horse, Pony Bob mounted and rode off. Thirty miles later, he got a new horse. Then thirty -seven more miles and another change of mounts. Finally he rode the last thirty miles to the next station where Jay Kelly relieved him. Pony Bob had come one hundred ninety miles and was ready for a rest. He went into the station and collapsed on the floor for some much needed sleep.
    A little later, “Hey Bob, wake up!” roused him from a deep sleep. Pony Bob yawned and opened his tired eyes. “Eh,” he said, “What’s up?” “The western rider is, or rather he’s down. He fell off his horse and is too crippled to ride farther. Will you take the mochila, Bob?” Pony Bob yawned again and stretched. “How long have I been sleeping?” “’Bout an hour and a half,” the station master replied as he helped the injured rider to a cot. “Long enough,” Pony Bob said. “Saddle up.” In less than five minutes Pony Bob was in the saddle and was riding back over the same route that he had started on.
    As he neared Cold Springs, the station where just a few hours before he had changed horses, he began to have a strange feeling that all was not right. He saw the station just ahead, so he sounded his horn. Nothing happened. He rode up to the door. All was quiet. Too quiet. Not a horse or a man was to be seen or heard. Pony Bob slowly opened the door and looked in. Much to his horror, he found five men dead. The Indians must have raided the station soon after he was there, killed the men and run off the horses. What should Pony Bob do now? Should he risk everything by riding his weary horse through the country that was alive with the red men? He decided to try, for the mail must go through. As he rode off from Cold Springs, he kept his eyes open for any sign of Indians.
    At Bucklands, an hour or so later, division Superintendent Morley had just ridden in when Pony Bob arrived on his exhausted and foam covered horse. Morley listened with a grim face as Pony Bob recounted the story of Cold Springs. “Lay low until evening.” Morley ordered. “You’ve got no chance of escaping those Indian bands in daylight.” Pony Bob nodded and headed into the cabin to sleep until evening while Morley kept watch.
    Nine hours later, Pony Bob was on a young & high-mettled mustang riding off into the gathering dusk, A few miles later he suddenly spotted some Indians! He lay low in the saddle, quietly urging his horse on, but at the same time keeping his eyes on the Indians. They didn’t see him. But a little later, Pony Bob suddenly heard something to his right. Glancing quickly over, he noticed several Indians on horseback coming his way. Just at that moment they also noticed him and began to chase. Pony Bob thought quickly, could his horse outrun the Indians’ mounts? He was pretty sure he could, so leaning forward in the saddle, he urged his horse on faster & faster. After chasing for several miles, the Indians left Pony Bob and disappeared into the darkness.
    Finally, as dawn began to break, Pony Bob arrived safely back where he had started, and another rider took the mochila on. Pony Bob had ridden three hundred eighty miles with only ten and a half hours sleep, and safely delivered the mail.

How many stories do you think I've published on here?

Did you enjoy today's "double feature"?

Does it seem strange to be thinking about a Christmas Play?

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!

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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.”

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