Winter Season

Closet

When Oscar got home from work, Esther was cleaning away. There were a stack of boxes on the porch, some moving blankets and The Rollings Stones were singing their lungs out. He knocked but was sure she didn’t hear him. After several minutes, he knew she didn’t hear him and he let himself in. She was in the kitchen with her back toward him shaking to I can’t get know satisfaction. He could have watched her all day. So he leaned up against the door frame just watching her. She bounced off into the bedroom as the song stopped.

“I knocked,” he called.

She poked her head back out of the bedroom door. “Hey there.”

“Wow! You got a lot done today.” She grinned a big happy grin about her progress. He noticed that she had started in the bigger of the two bedrooms; it was no longer a dirty brown. He assumed it was originally white but time had turned it. But she had painted it beige and had put down dark colored flooring. The smaller bed room had floral wall paper on it. She had stripped all the paper off and painted it egg shell. The original hard wood flooring had been shined. It looked amazing.

“I brought something. Dessert before dinner.”

She smiled, “you know I’m never going to get finished.”

He winked at her, “maybe I like having the company.”

She followed him back to his house. He placed a brown paper bag in the middle of the table, got two bowls, and two spoons.

“Butter Pecan Ice Cream was my dad’s favorite.” He smiled. “Dad only had a top plate of teeth and couldn’t chew the nuts. When he finished his ice cream, there would be a little pile of nuts in the center of the bowl.”

“Thanks for sharing it with me.”

Oscar wanted to kiss her again. But only smiled. Then asked, “where did you get the flooring that you put in the big bedroom?”

“Dollar store.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s clean. It was cheap. And I’m no engineer; but I think it looks good.”

“It looks amazing. What are you going to do with the second bedroom?”

“It’s going to be my closet.” He didn’t say a word only smiled as he ate another spoon of ice cream.

“What no mean comments?”

When they finished, he took her by the hand; leading her to his bedroom. She had noticed a door when she was in here the last time but assumed it was the bathroom. Well she was right, but what she didn’t know was that the bathroom was connected to a huge closet almost the size of his bedroom. It was the most organized closet she’d ever seen. “I have no room to comment on your spare bedroom being turned into a closet.” He smiled.

Winter season

“Comparing yourself to others is the biggest killer of happiness.” Alux.com

Who is a popular author? That makes money at this? Stephen King comes to mind.

“When he first graduated from college, he tried to find a position as a teacher but had no luck at first. King took a job in a laundry and continued to write stories in his spare time until late 1971, when he began working as an English educator at Hampden Academy.

In 1973, King sold his first novel, Carrie, the tale of a tormented teen who gets revenge on her peers. The book became a huge success after it was published the following year, allowing him to devote himself to writing full time.”

“Stephen King actually did throw away his manuscript of Carrie after it was rejected 30 times, but his wife pulled it out of the trash.” Today, it’s difficult to think anyone would reject Stephen King.

In a podcast interview, King said he writes 6 pages of material per day. Wow! Sometimes I can’t write 6 words but I’m not Stephen King.

“Quote the raven, ‘never more’.” I have a soft spot for Edgar Allen Poe. Could be in part due to the fact that I had to recite The Raven in high school. Or “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” is particularly important because it was the first modern detective story. Poe was the first to write about an eccentric genius who solves mysterious crimes. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle cites Poe’s character, C. Auguste Dupin, as the literary inspiration behind his character, Sherlock Holmes.” Oh yeah!

“On October 3rd, an election day, Poe was found delirious in a tavern called Gunner’s Hall in Baltimore. He appeared drunk, wearing someone else’s clothes and was taken to Washington University Hospital. For the next four days he was in and out of consciousness, sometimes being alert, sometimes screaming at nothing and no one.  

Edgar Allan Poe died on October 7th, 1849. The doctor labeled his cause of death as “phrenitis” (inflammation of the brain) which was commonly used when the true cause of death was unknown. Because of these mysterious circumstances, and the persona of Poe, there is much speculation about the true manner of his death. There are over 26 published theories on his demise, so far.”

I am not Edgar Allen Poe.

Why I Write

You write.

You share.

But you’re not making any money.

~

You write.

You share.

It helps heal old wounds.

~

You write.

You share.

It cleanses the soul.

~

You write.

You share.

Someone likes your work?

~

You write.

You share.

It lightens your heart.

~

You write.

You share.

Can someone else relate?

~

You write.

You share.

Get it out.

~

Celebrate.

I write.

I share.

~

Today, I’m lighter than I was yesterday.

I write.

I share.

A New Way to Look at Rejection. How “rejection-math” can feed your fire… | by Melissa Gouty | The Writing Cooperative

Poe Biography

https://www.biography.com/authors-writers/stephen-king

Friends

I was talking to someone the other day about this poem and I couldn’t remember all of it. Here is the whole piece.

Reason, Season and a Lifetime


By: Brian A. “Drew” Chalker

People always come into your life for a reason, a season and a lifetime. When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, or to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or even spiritually. They may seem like a godsend to you, and they are. They are there for a reason,you need them to be. Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die, Sometimes they just walk away. Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilleed; their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on.


When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season. And like Spring turns to Summer and Summer to Fall, the season eventually ends.

LIFETIME, relationships teach you a lifetime of lessons; those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (anyway);, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas in your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant. Thank you for being part of my life…..

https://sarazarrella.com/2010/12/reason-season-and-a-lifetime-poem/

Winter season

Nosy friend?

On his way to work, Chet pulled him over. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m okay.”

Chet got in the car with Oscar. “Look man, I’m only looking out for you okay. Please don’t hate me. I ran Little Miss’s plates. What she said at dinner worried me. She is either in some deep military crap or she is a coal black lar. The curious thing is, I can’t find anything about her in the last two years. It’s like they didn’t happen.”  

“Maybe she’s in trouble.” Oscar said flatly.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

They sat there for a long time. Oscar finally found the courage to speak. “I have been letting her stay in my guest room until she gets her house ready to move in. Friday night she terrified me. She woke me up screaming. I have never heard screaming like that. Not even in the movies. Especially not from a woman.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“I did, all she would say was bad dreams.”

They set there a long time before either of them spoke. Chet finally said, “please be careful my friend.”

“I will.”

Chet studied his friend. He was staring at the steering wheel the whole time. The only time he made eye contact with Chet was when he first got into the car. He laid his hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He slowly shook his head, yes. Another moment of silence past. “I think I’m in love with her.”

If it would have been possible, Chet would have fallen through the car. “Really?!”

“I’ve never been in love. I don’t think. I think that’s what this is. It could be infatuation, I really don’t know. What does it feel like?”

Chet looked out the window for a moment. “I think it’s different for each person. I’ve never felt like the songs. The Earth has never moved under my feet. I must admit Friday night was the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time.” When Chet turned back around to look at Oscar, he looked so sad and lost. Typical Oscar, he thought.

“How did you know you were in love with Bell?”

Chet sat there for a moment thinking. “When I pulled her over, I was having a piss poor day. You remember Ole Ms Kinger?”

Oscar laughed, “who doesn’t?”

“She had called in a complaint on me. Anyway, when I pulled Bell over. I was pissed. Here was a car with Fayette County tags. Oh yes! I was all jacked when I walked up to the drivers side window. This criminal was going to get it.

“But when she rolled down the window and looked at me. All the sound was gone. I saw her lips move but I had no idea what she was saying. I got so nervous that I dropped her drivers license ‘bout the time a coal truck drove past and blew them under her car. I offered to take her to dinner. We exchanged numbers.” Chet got lost for a moment, “I never did give her that speeding ticket.”

“Esther is like a breath of fresh air, non-judgmental, easy to talk to, great cook. I’m sure there are things that she is hiding. I’d like to hide my family but I can’t. Women in general terrify me. She doesn’t scare me. I feel an ease about her that I’ve never felt before.”

“You never told me that women made you uncomfortable. I just thought you were painfully shy.” Oscar raised an eyebrow. Chet shook his head, “Take it easy today man.”

“You too.”

Winter Season

Goofin’ off a work

Time for those dishes to go to the dishwasher.

🎶And the forks in the cradle and the silver spoon

Little blue bowl and the saucer in the moon

“When are we going to the dishwasher, dad?”

“I don’t know when”

But we’ll get together then

You know we’ll have a good time then

Yeah, dishwasher dad, you know we’ll have a good time then🎶

https://youtu.be/KUwjNBjqR-c?si=_LmG1kWEuecKSLUP

WEIRD AL let’s collaborate. 😉

Goofin’ off at work

Winter Season

Two boosters please

She was a little concerned that the health department wouldn’t be able to work her in but they did. No one was there.

As they sat in the empty waiting room, Oscar noticed the confused look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“No one’s here.” She pointed around. “Is it because it’s cold?”

He gave a light chuckle, “um no. The government is evil. Covid is fake. The vaccine will cause you to sprout 3 horns. Once you take the first shot, you’ll be dead in 5 years.” Esther raised an eyebrow. “The way I see it, I’ve got 2 more years to live.” He added.

“What?”

“My family believes all of that. I’m a horrible person because I wanted to follow all the Covid precautions including getting vaccinated. My family is the polar opposite.” He sighed, “sadly, more people than not believe as my family does.”

His hand was laying on the armrest of the chair. She laid her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry.” He laced his fingers through hers. “I was the first one in line when they became available. A lot of people say it’s like having the flu. I don’t want that either. Once in the past 10,” she thought. “Yes, 10 years I was diagnosed with the flu. I was so sick I couldn’t make it from the couch to the bathroom without feeling like I was going to pass out because I couldn’t catch my breath.”

They called his name. He kissed the top of her hand as he got up.

When they returned home , both changed and set to cleaning. Suddenly she rose up, “you said errands. We only went to get the booster. Did I knock you out of doing something else?”

“Heavens no. It was much more fun,” he raised an eyebrow, “getting poked with you.”

“Booger.” She teased.

Oscar was cleaning in the kitchen and Esther in the little bedroom. He hadn’t heard her in a while, “Ess.” He called but got no answer. “Ess?” He found her curled up in the middle of the floor. “Ess?”

“Tired.”

She woke on his couch. The fire place crackling behind her. Bell was sitting in one of the overstuffed recliners reading. “Hi there. Oscar went to town to get some things. I changed your clothes. Oscar has probably told you by now that I work at the nursing home.”

Esther was so tired she couldn’t speak.

“Oscar told me you two got your Covid booster yesterday and this is what happens to you every time.”

Esther just watched her.

“I take it this is your book? I don’t think Oscar is going to need to know how to cope through female menopause. Good book.” She closed it. “Oscar seems to really like you. I know you’ve only been here a week but you’ve been like an injection of life for him. And between me and you, I hope you..” She pursed her lips. “His family… Horrible people. I know.” She raised a hand, “as a Christian I shouldn’t feel that way. That’s why he’s God and I’m not.” She paused. It was as if she was speaking to herself and not Esther, “Oscar is such a good person.”

Esther fell back to sleep.

She woke to Oscar was holding her. She could hear his heart beating. “Hi there, you need to drink something.” She tried but didn’t get much down.

She woke up with a big stretch. “Hi there.”

“Hi.” He was all smiles.

“What day is it?”

“Monday.”

It took a minute for that to sink in, “Monday. What time?” She asked panicked.

“Noon, why?”

“Have you just ran home on your lunch break?”

“No.”

“No, you missed a day of work because of me?”

He sat with her on the couch. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I mean. You didn’t have to. You….”

He took her hands. “I wasn’t going to leave you here alone.”

How could he have done this? Why did he do it? Miss a day of work because of her. She had it, he was afraid she would wake up while he was gone and rob him blind. That had to be it. Right?

“Was Bell here?” She asked instead.

“Yes, I went to town to get stuff I was hoping you could eat and drink. Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” she blushed.

“Then let me feed you.” In the kitchen there was a single daisy on the table. “For you.”

“Me?”

“Saturday made one week since you’ve been here.”

“Thank you. That is so very sweet.”

Winter Season

Jazzy fought the letter and the letter won?

Or

Revenge is best served with super glue?

Jazzy took the business sized letter from the mailman without even looking at it. Mail in any form meant work. They chatted for a moment about the forecast: snow. That dreaded S word. It was as effective as saying a real colorful metaphor. A true slap across the face. Snow. The ultimate winter blues.

As she inspected the letter, a shutter crept from her toes to her brain and back. THE IRS! What did Uncle Sam want? A kidney was about all she had left. Maybe if she didn’t open it. Didn’t read it. This would go away?

With great hesitation, she slid her finger into the fold of the letter. It groaned like an obstinate child staring at a plate of broccoli. This maneuver had open hundreds, dare she think, thousands of letters. But not this one. A hunk of paper the size of a dine fell to the floor. Using the same technique, she tried again. The envelope tore in a Florida shaped pattern to the bottom then back up centimeters from her finger.

What had Uncle Sam used to seal this letter? Super glue? He could have saved the $3.00, used a sponge and water. Much cheaper. But it was the government after all. They made nothing easy. Or cheap.

Her frustration was mounting. What was so special about this dookie eatin’ letter? She shuck the envelope, praying the letter would glide effortlessly to the floor. At this point, bending over would have been joyous.

WRONG! The envelope stuck to her finger. When she pulled it loose, the sound of utter astonishment escaped her, a hunk of skin lunged from her hand. Defiantly staying with the envelope. Now a small corner of the envelope was stained red. Her finger stung. A sad drop of blood ran down toward her palm. “SH…” But the remaining characters stayed under her breath.

She tore the letter from the envelope. The simple act of unfolding the letter, highlighted the fact that the envelope was still attached.

“Why?” Her voice was laden with defeat. That stubborn envelope got one more dig in. As she ripped it from the back of the page; it was a the right angle to give her a sizable paper cut. And as we all know, few things hurt worse?

What else was Uncle Sam going to do to her? Her nerves were shattered. One finger was bleeding. Another was stinging. Annoyed frustration oozed through her veins. The simple act of opening a letter had her ready to hit the sauce.

“YES!” She had it. This letter was possessed. Had to be. Why else was it trying so hard to hurt her?

A possessed letter from the IRS. Fantastic!

With the flick of her wrist, the envelope went sailing through the air toward the trash can. Bye, bye demon from the government. Alas no. MISSED! The mangled envelope lay in the floor. As close as a lovers touch to the trash can. There it was taunting her.

Not for the likes

Who are your current most favorite people?

This WordPress/Jetpack community. Like I stated in the title, this isn’t so you will click like on my work. This is a heartfelt Thank You from me to you.

As I continued to dig into my past, I’m discovering that I’ve wanted to write (in some form or another) for a long time. It’s beyond amazing that there is a platform where it feels okay to share. A space where feedback given, welcomed, instructive, and supportive.

I was terrified when I posted my first post. Today, I am so thankful that I did. You are an amazing community.

Thanks to you; I feel like the quality of my writing has improved as well as my overall mental health.

Interrupt Sleep