Today and this entire past week has been a mess. 

The weather isn't too bad. Cool and windy. Perfect for riding my trike downtown to run some errands. Made an appointment at the beauty shop for a hair trim. 

Then I wandered down to where I took my computer last time it needed a tune-up. That was a bust. A young lady was just closing the door. She saw me and asked me if she could help me. I told her I was wanting to get my computers tuned up. She told me the computer guy had moved his business to his house.

I can understand that. Rent is outrageous, and you add utilities and other expenses and it's about impossible to make any money, especially in a small town. She did give me his wife's number so I can set up an appointment through her.

The library was my next stop. Grabbed a few books from the Weedy Shelf, a program I started when I worked there. I'm gratified to find it's still a working program. I have way too many books in my collection, but I'm willing to part with many of them, if I just knew where to take them.

From there, I headed on home. I was pretty well winded by the time I got to the house. Dennis has been out of town to a doctor's appointment in Topeka, so I've had the day to myself, except for my dog, who has been a bad dog all week. It's my fault for not training her better, but why can't animals be smart enough to stay in the yard and not running down the middle of the street. As I opened my door to leave for art club yesterday, she slithered out beside me and took off running across the street to the neighbor across the street. He wasn't home, so she ran back to our yard and ran her "zoomies" all around the yard. Impossible to catch that dog when she does this. 

I was late for club, so I called Dennis on his cell and told him she was loose in the yard. He cursed up a blue streak and asked "Who let her out?" I told him she had slipped through the door and was out before I saw her. He was not a happy camper.

Art club was enjoyable, except for a brief discussion on the relationship between the Catholic faith and Halloween. Don't ask me how we got on that topic. I have no idea. I made a comment and both the other members unanimously disagreed with me. When I got home I looked it up and apparently, they were right and I was wrong. That stung a little.

I'm working on Chapter 21 in my novel, Hero in Cowboy Boots. I've come to a crossroads with my book, and need to do some rereading to decide which way I want to take it.

So for now, I'll just keep plugging away, and praying that my story makes sense when it's done.

Update

Just a quick update on my situation.

I've been busy for the past few weeks with my writing. At this point, I'm ready to start writing Chapter 21 in my book, Hero in Cowboy Boots. I've been trying to write at least three chapters a week, but life sometimes has other plans. 

 

I've got several friends, both online and personal, who are reading my writing and offering "nits" (short for nitpicking or criticisms), which has been very helpful. And writing from an outline has been helpful. Prior to this book, I've always written "by the seat of my pants" which I have always said are way too big. Or maybe it's me being too big for my britches. 

On the other hand, I'm also working on my art. The Clifton Art Buffs has a project where we each take turns displaying a new piece of artwork and I have to get something framed and ready to hang on the Kaw Valley State Bank's wall. They have generously supported our local art group by allowing us to display there, and they also support local small businesses by allowing displays  of their products. 

For example, one of our Art Buffs members has a toy shop in Clifton, and she had a very nice display of some of her toys and dolls in a display case. I"m not certain if it is still being displayed, but I've been through her toy shop and it is a very unique experience. I've never seen so many dolls and toys. Many of them are replicas of famous people or cartoon characters, and many of them are valuable antiques. If you find yourself driving through Clifton, Kansas, it's worth a stop to check this place out. 

My house is being overrun with plastic totes of things that we need to put into storage. And there are also tons of things that need to be put into even more totes. I have been a book collector for decades, and my hobby has outgrown my space. I would give my books away, but not certain where to donate them. 

So, if I ever get caught up with all of this, I'll be looking for a chance to do more art.

Hope to post again soon. Please comment if you are reading this. You can comment on my blog here, or by email to dmbarnes@twinvalley.net.

Hero in Cowboy Boots: Chapter 6

I'm currently writing Chapter 17 of my book, Hero in Cowboy Boots, and I'm relying on several sources for criticisms of my chapters as I post them. I have two groups reading them in WVU, and I return the favor to them as they post their work. I'm hoping to finish the rough draft of this book soon, so I can finish the rough draft of my other book, A Door in Time.

In the meantime, I'm posting my rough draft chapters here as well. So if you read this, please be aware that the chapters may change somewhat as I incorporate the criticisms my readers suggest in the final draft. 

With that being said, here is my first draft of Chapter 6 of Hero in Cowboy Boots:

HICB Ch. 6 V.1 wc959

Backing up

“Mark, I need to ask you something.” Jayda looked down at little Mark, blushing. Her fingers were trembling on the baby’s blanket. She looked up at Mark and waited, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Mark noticed the tears and instantly sensed that something was wrong.

“Yes? What do you need to know? I’m an open book,” his smile reassured her that he was there for her.

“Umm, I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of days…” Jayda looked down at her child, sleeping peacefully and making little sucking motions with his mouth. She was uncertain how to approach the subject in her mind. Would it offend him? Would it reaffirm how she was feeling? What will happen next? Will he reject her? Will he turn and walk away forever?

“Wow! Has it really been only two days?” Mark shook his head. “Somehow, it feels like we’ve known each other for years! What’s bothering you Jayda?” He sat down in the chair by her bedside and reaching overtook her nearest hand and squeezed it gently.

“Yes. It’s been a truly short time. And yet---somehow, it seems like we’ve grown closer than I’ve ever been to any man. Even when I was with Brad, I never felt like this---” Jayda shook her head, embarrassed.

Mark’s breath held “How do you feel, Jayda? What do you mean?” He stared into her eyes, soaking up the beauty of her tremulous smile.

“I just, I don’t know. I just feel like things are moving so fast. I don’t know what your feelings are---what your hopes are for us---do you understand what I’m saying?”

Mark’s face turned solemn. His feelings of confusion and disappointment were evident on his face.

“Are you---do you---are you wanting me to leave?” he stammered.

“Oh no! Certainly not! I just---I’m afraid. I’ve been burned---badly. I just feel like I need to protect my heart, and I don’t know what your intentions are or if I can trust you. I feel an attraction between us. I think you feel it too, don’t you? And I know you’ve been burned too. Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

Mark stared at her, deep in thought. His facial expressions changed several times as he thought about what she was asking. First, he appeared shocked, then angry, then gentleness came over him. He took her hand in both of his, gazed deeply into her eyes, and replied. “I know we both have been burned and both of us have trust issues. Perhaps we are moving forward too quickly and I’m thinking maybe we should put the brakes on a little. I don’t want to lose you forever. I care too much about you already for that. But maybe--This rocket is going to crash if we keep blasting forward like we are. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to start over and become great friends and just let it go whichever direction we want it to go.”

“I’d like that too,” Jayda grinned.

“Alrighty then.  Hi. My name is Mark, Mark Reeves. Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?” Mark shook Jayda’s hand and held it closely, gently in both of his.

Jayda giggled and answered, “Hello. I’m Jayda Michaels. I’m incredibly happy to meet you, too. And thank you for being my hero in cowboy boots.”

“My pleasure, Ma’am. Anytime.” Mark wanted to kiss those luscious lips but controlled that desire. Most friends don’t do that when they first meet.

“So,  uh---, can I still get a ride home from the hospital tomorrow?”

“Oh, most definitely. I’ve already bought a car seat, highchair, crib, and all the fixin’s for little Mark Lee. It’s all set up at your house. I was going to shop for baby food and all of that, but I didn’t know what brand or formula you’d be using for him! What---”

“Whoa, Cowboy!” Jayda laughed. “You’re doing it again! We were going to slow down, remember?” She giggled.  “You certainly didn’t need to spend all your hard-earned money “ She playfully slapped his hand. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Are you in love with my son?”

Mark’s face was stunned. “You know, you are right. I do love your child. I can’t believe that a little boy who can’t even see me well yet has captured my heart so fast. And his mom, well---”

“Mark!”

“I’m sorry, Jayda, but I’m not sorry. I’m nuts over both of you.”

“Well, you’re certainly nuts!”

Both laughed. His was a deep, masculine chortle. Hers was a light, tinkling, feminine sound, much like the sound of raindrops on porcelain.

“You know, I haven’t laughed this much in years,” Mark grinned. Then he stood and grabbed his hat. “I’d better get back to the farm. I’ve got animals to feed. Do you need anything from home?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got my clothes to wear home and a couple of outfits for Mark Lee. The only thing we’ll need tomorrow might be more diapers and whatever formula Doc wants him to try. But don’t go buying anything. I have some questions for him before he releases me. And I’ll call you when I’m about ready to go. I don’t have a clear picture of what time that might be.”

“Ok. I’ll try to restrain myself.” Jayda laughed again at the pouty look on his face. He grinned back at her and headed for the door. “See you in the morning, Friend.”

Jayda waved and sighed as his footsteps were heard walking down the hall. Life certainly seemed more fun---now that she had a cowboy for a friend.

Hero in Cowboy Boots Chapter 5

Hero in  Cowboy Boots  Chapter 5 Pt. 2 V. 1 wc 883

 

June 7 10:00 a.m.

Mark stopped in the hospital gift shop and selected some fresh flowers and a tiny cowboy outfit for little Mark Lee before strolling up to Jayda’s room.  She was in the bathroom, so he stood outside her room and watched the normal hospital activity going on around him.

Nurses, doctors, visitors, and other staff members scurried around him, everyone on a mission. But they all smiled at him, and some even congratulated him on his new son.  He smiled but didn’t correct them, only dreamed it was true.

Jayda had impressed him with her courage and devotion to little Mark Lee, and her smile just made Mark’s day. Especially since his surprise in the naming the day before. What an amazing and wonderful day that was, despite the lack of sleep for all of them!

He smiled as he recalled the  middle-aged lady who waited on him in the gift shop. She congratulated him on the new baby, thinking Mark was the father. How sweet!

Hearing Jayda cooing softly to her baby, Mark knocked on her door and waited for her to signal him to enter. Her smile when he opened that door made his heart sing. What is that all about? They’d only known each other for a few hours. How is she bewitching him so fast?

He’d vowed to never marry or fall in love again after Lucinda’s abandonment. He’d swore he could be happy without a female around. Yet here he was: all hearts and flowers over a woman he’d known for less than a full day. It was ridiculous! But wild horses couldn’t drag him away from this room today.

“Hi,” she  greeted him. I hoped you’d make it back today. I know you are busy on the farm. Did you have any tornado damage?”

“No, thank God. I saw a few branches lying on the ground, and some lawn furniture tipped over. That was the extent of it.  I drove by your house too. I didn’t see anything disturbed there either.”

“Thank you. That’s great news. Did you have breakfast this morning? They serve delicious sausage and cheese casserole in the cafeteria. I ate some. I felt ravenous this morning.”

“Awesome, but I ate some toast and a couple of hard-boiled eggs at home before I left.  Maybe I’ll catch some lunch later on before I head home.” He moved closer to the bed and peered over the blankets at Mark Lee. “How’s the little guy doing today?”

“Oh, he’s just doing great! The doctor says he’s in the upper percentile on all his APGAR scores, whatever that means. The doctor seemed pleased and so did I too. I wish I had taken some prenatal classes when I first learned I was pregnant. I thought I could save some money and that was the most important thing to me at the time. After all, women have been having babies without doctors since Adam and Eve. But then a nurse told me I was very lucky, because many of those babies are born with birth defects or miscarried, or died right after birth! If I had known all of that, I’d have taken the classes and seen a doctor regularly like most moms do now.”

 Jayda gazed down at her son and smiled. Her face gentled and she looked up at Mark. “There are things more important than money.”

Mark’s gaze went from the baby to Jayda’s face and his breath caught mid-breath. She looked so beautiful. She had taken some time since yesterday to apply light makeup, and it enhanced her natural beauty.

Mark’s heart did some gymnastics in his chest, and he let out that breath. Lord help me, I’m falling in deep for this girl. In two days!

He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Yes, Jayda. There certainly are.”

“Oh! I almost forgot! I can go home tomorrow! Isn’t that cool? Uh, since my car is in the ditch…is there any way you could take me home? I’ll pay you back!” Jayda pleaded with Mark.

“Yes! I most certainly can take you home, and there’s something I meant to tell you yesterday, but I forgot.”

“What?” Jayda looked up at him. She couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.

“Yeah, well, when I got home yesterday, after chores were done, I took my tractor and pulled your car out of that ditch. There didn’t seem to be any damage done during the storm, so I was able to drive it to your place. I parked it behind  your barn so that if Brad comes by looking for you, he’ll think you are gone somewhere. So I’ll just drive you to your house. I can move the car wherever you wish after that.”

“Oh Mark, I’m so sorry I’m such a burden to you. I’m causing you so much extra work and I have absolutely no way to repay you.”

“Nonsense! It’s no extra work for me. Besides, it’s not every day I get a baby named after me, Jayda. That’s worth a million dollars to me!”

Mark placed a hand on hers on the baby blanket. The look he gave her made her heart skip, then her pulse quickened until it was racing.  Those gorgeous blue eyes!

Hero in Cowboy Boots Chapter 4

Pt. 2 V. 1 wc 883

 

June 7 10:00 a.m.

Mark stopped in the hospital gift shop and selected some fresh flowers and a tiny cowboy outfit for little Mark Lee before strolling up to Jayda’s room.  She was in the bathroom, so he stood outside her room and watched the normal hospital activity going on around him.

Nurses, doctors, visitors, and other staff members scurried around him, everyone on a mission. But they all smiled at him, and some even congratulated him on his new son.  He smiled but didn’t correct them, only dreamed it was true.

Jayda had impressed him with her courage and devotion to little Mark Lee, and her smile just made Mark’s day. Especially since his surprise in the naming the day before. What an amazing and wonderful day that was, despite the lack of sleep for all of them!

He smiled as he recalled the  middle-aged lady who waited on him in the gift shop. She congratulated him on the new baby, thinking Mark was the father. How sweet!

Hearing Jayda cooing softly to her baby, Mark knocked on her door and waited for her to signal him to enter. Her smile when he opened that door made his heart sing. What is that all about? They’d only known each other for a few hours. How is she bewitching him so fast?

He’d vowed to never marry or fall in love again after Lucinda’s abandonment. He’d swore he could be happy without a female around. Yet here he was: all hearts and flowers over a woman he’d known for less than a full day. It was ridiculous! But wild horses couldn’t drag him away from this room today.

“Hi,” she  greeted him. I hoped you’d make it back today. I know you are busy on the farm. Did you have any tornado damage?”

“No, thank God. I saw a few branches lying on the ground, and some lawn furniture tipped over. That was the extent of it.  I drove by your house too. I didn’t see anything disturbed there either.”

“Thank you. That’s great news. Did you have breakfast this morning? They serve delicious sausage and cheese casserole in the cafeteria. I ate some. I felt ravenous this morning.”

“Awesome, but I ate some toast and a couple of hard-boiled eggs at home before I left.  Maybe I’ll catch some lunch later on before I head home.” He moved closer to the bed and peered over the blankets at Mark Lee. “How’s the little guy doing today?”

“Oh, he’s just doing great! The doctor says he’s in the upper percentile on all his APGAR scores, whatever that means. The doctor seemed pleased and so did I too. I wish I had taken some prenatal classes when I first learned I was pregnant. I thought I could save some money and that was the most important thing to me at the time. After all, women have been having babies without doctors since Adam and Eve. But then a nurse told me I was very lucky, because many of those babies are born with birth defects or miscarried, or died right after birth! If I had known all of that, I’d have taken the classes and seen a doctor regularly like most moms do now.”

 Jayda gazed down at her son and smiled. Her face gentled and she looked up at Mark. “There are things more important than money.”

Mark’s gaze went from the baby to Jayda’s face and his breath caught mid-breath. She looked so beautiful. She had taken some time since yesterday to apply light makeup, and it enhanced her natural beauty.

Mark’s heart did some gymnastics in his chest, and he let out that breath. Lord help me, I’m falling in deep for this girl. In two days!

He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Yes, Jayda. There certainly are.”

“Oh! I almost forgot! I can go home tomorrow! Isn’t that cool? Uh, since my car is in the ditch…is there any way you could take me home? I’ll pay you back!” Jayda pleaded with Mark.

“Yes! I most certainly can take you home, and there’s something I meant to tell you yesterday, but I forgot.”

“What?” Jayda looked up at him. She couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.

“Yeah, well, when I got home yesterday, after chores were done, I took my tractor and pulled your car out of that ditch. There didn’t seem to be any damage done during the storm, so I was able to drive it to your place. I parked it behind  your barn so that if Brad comes by looking for you, he’ll think you are gone somewhere. So I’ll just drive you to your house. I can move the car wherever you wish after that.”

“Oh Mark, I’m so sorry I’m such a burden to you. I’m causing you so much extra work and I have absolutely no way to repay you.”

“Nonsense! It’s no extra work for me. Besides, it’s not every day I get a baby named after me, Jayda. That’s worth a million dollars to me!”

Mark placed a hand on hers on the baby blanket. The look he gave her made her heart skip, then her pulse quickened until it was racing.  Those gorgeous blue eyes!

Hero in Cowboy Boots Chapter 3

Hero in Cowboy Boots Ch. 3 V.1 wc1650

LITTLE MAN GETS A NAME

The door opened to a nurse in blue scrubs, wearing a name tag that read Stephanie. She had a wheelchair and it was turned so Jayda could sit easily. She told Jayda, she would be taken straight to delivery and asked for Jayda’s wallet with her insurance information so she could be processed in admissions.

“Do you have a regular doctor?” Stephanie bent down close to Jayda and smiled.

“No-o-o,” Jayda moaned, in another contraction. The nurse placed a hand on Jayda’s abdomen and  felt the rigidity. She timed Jayda’s contraction and then hustled her to the Delivery Room, Jayda’s bag and purse on her lap.

Another nurse appeared to show Mark where the Obstetrics waiting room was located. He looked a little panicked. The nurse explained that it might take a few hours, or it might take a few minutes. She expressed an opinion it might be a few minutes in this case. She smiled and asked if he wanted to remain until the baby was born, or if he needed to leave.

“Oh I’m in this for the long run. This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done, since my military days.” Mark grinned, relieved that his responsibility for getting her to the hospital was over. He couldn’t wait to see what the baby would be like, and he wondered how this all fit into his life.

It occurred to him. He’d always wondered what it would be like to have kids. But was Jayda married? If so, where was her old man? He should be here with her, not Mark. Anger welled up in Mark’s heart. He’d like to get his hands on the jerk who left her to deliver and possibly die in that ditch.

He sat in a recliner in the small waiting room, put his feet up and closed his eyes. He tried to think about Jayda, not her old man. That jerk! He should be hung by his---.

Mark interrupted his thoughts with more Christian thoughts. He didn’t know her situation yet. He shouldn’t condemn him until he had the whole story.  He might not even know he had a baby coming. He might be dead. He might be military overseas. There could be any number of reasons why he wasn’t there for Jayda. Mark didn’t know what her story was, but he was intrigued and wanted to learn more.

Two hours later, Mark woke with a nurse gently putting a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at first, instincts reacting from his military duty in the war. But the angelic face smiling down on him certainly didn’t look like a threat.

“Mr. Reeves? My name is Angela. Are you here for Jayda Michaels? She would like you to come to her room, if you wish.”

“Jayda? Is she ok? Did she have the baby? Is the baby ok? Is it a boy or girl? Yes, I would like to see Jayda. Lead the way.”

The nurse led Mark down a hall toward the north end of the hospital and up three floors to where a sign above a double-door read Labor and Delivery. She buzzed in  on an intercom, and the doors opened. A nurse’s desk positioned right in front of the doors was occupied by several nurses and doctors, busy with their paperwork and computers. She led the way to the nurse’s station and spoke to a pretty nurse behind the desk with the name Gina on her name tag.

When Angela stopped in front of a door with the number 5 above the door sill, she stopped and asked Mark to wait just a second while she made sure Jayda was ready. Mark stood there, smiling and looking all around him.

The nurse stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later, she opened the door and motioned Mark in.

“She might be a little woozy yet from the anesthesia, but she’s fine. The baby is with her in the room.” Angela turned and left them alone.

“Hi,” Mark said softly. “How are you?” He held his hat in his hand, slowing turning it around in his fingers by the brim. Jayda was sitting up in bed, wearing a hospital gown. She had an IV in her left wrist, and the obligatory plastic bracelets on her wrists also. His eyes were on Jayda, on everything in the room, on the bundle she was holding in her arms. His gaze stopped there. “How’s the baby?”

“I’m fine. The baby is fine. He’s a little hungry right now, but he’s got ten toes, ten fingers, long skinny legs, and a set of huge lungs! He really screamed when he came out!” She laughed. “I don’t think he liked all the bright lights. Can’t say that I blame him. I don’t like bright lights either, unless it’s the sun on a warm day. Hey, thanks for waiting. I was hoping you would.”

“Hey, you didn’t think any self-respecting hero would just disappear, did you? That was a pretty exciting night. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Mark grinned at her and held it against his chest.

Jayda grinned. “It was exciting, wasn’t it? The nurse told me a tornado blew right through where I was in that ditch. Destroyed a barn just five miles north of my location. I don’t know if my farm was hurt or not. Did you have any damage?”

“I really don’t know. I haven’t been home yet.” Mark frowned. He hadn’t even thought about that. He took a deep breath and asked, “So how’s the little guy doing? Are you getting acquainted with him?”

“Oh Mark, he’s so adorable. Come here and see him.”

Mark tiptoed over to the bed and reached down to gently stroke her dark brown hair. So soft and fine. And skin like a porcelain doll. Exquisite! He daydreamed about the day he would have a son of his own.

He sighed and returned to the here and now, with no one to welcome him home after a hard day’s work. No one to cook for him and no one to enjoy life with. His expression turned to sadness just for a moment, but Jayda caught it.

“What’s wrong, Mark?”

“Huh? Oh I’m sorry. Nothing wrong. I was just woolgathering. So what are you naming him? Got any family you want to name him for? I hate to be nosy, but where’s the father? He should be here now, not me.”

 

Jayda frowned. “Oh no! I can’t let him see her. It’s not safe!”

“Not safe? What do you mean? Who is he? Is he in prison or married to someone else? What’s going on here? I’m sorry for being so nosy, but I’m concerned about the two of you. Who’s your support system? Do you have anyone else you can depend on?”

Mark moved closer to the bed and sat on a plastic and aluminum chair.

“Who helps you with your bills? You do have insurance right? Who’s going to help you with little guy while you heal? You’re not going to be a hundred percent right away, you know?”

Jayda’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I know. I’ve been stupid not to get things arranged for us. I guess I just hoped that Brad would realize that he loved me and would stick with me. But that was naïve, and really dumb. He could care less about me or little man. He said he’d rather see me dead than stand by me.”

Mark, shocked, said, “Brad? That’s the dad? He actually told you that? Why that---! How could any man do that to a woman he purported to care about?”

Jayda put her head down to her chest. “Yes, he told me that, and a whole lot more. I don’t know why I ever spent time with him. He’s definitely not the type of person I’d want to spend my life with.”

“I should say not!” Mark stood up, agitated. He paced the tiny room, rubbing his hand through his dark wavy hair. “If I had a woman like you, I’d treasure you, and your child. Even if it’s not my child. I’d love to have children. I never had any with Lucinda. I’m glad of that, because of our faulty relationship, but I can’t even fathom someone getting a girl pregnant and then just dumping her, and threatening her to boot! That just makes me furious!” Mark was almost shouting at this point.

Jayda put her fingers to her lips and quieted him.  “Mark, you need to be quiet here. I understand you are angry, and rightfully so, but please don’t wake the baby and everyone else in the hospital.”

Properly chastised, Mark sat back down. “They’ll probably be chasing me out of here pretty soon. I was curious. Have you given any thought to little man’s name?”

Jayda thought for a little bit. She looked down at little man, then at Mark. She stroked his fuzzy head and bit on her bottom lip in thought.

“Mark.”

“Yes?”

“No. I mean Mark. I want to name him Mark Lee, after you for saving me, and Lee after my dad. What do you think?” She glanced at him, hopeful he wouldn’t feel offended or angry.

It was quiet for a moment. Mark was staring at Jayda and little man, shocked and humbled by what she had just said.

“You don’t have to do that, Jayda. I would have helped anyone in that situation. I’m deeply honored, but you should name your baby after someone in your family. Your dad’s name, that’s good, but maybe it should be the first name---you know, Lee something or other, Jr. You know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean, Mark, but I’ve decided. Little man is now Mark Lee Michaels.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hero in Cowboy Boots Chapter 2

Hero in Cowboy Boots Ch. 2 V.1 wc 1402

THE RESCUE

As the headlights grew closer, Jayda prayed that this person would be someone who might help her, not harm her. She hated that she couldn’t trust people anymore. Brad ruined her naivete to the point that she cowered when people approached her.  Would God be that hateful that he‘d send someone who would do me harm? Surely not.

The lights were almost upon her. She gathered her purse, keys and the overnight bag she had packed for her hospital stay. The vehicle was a large pickup. It stopped in the middle of the road. The driver’s door opened and long jeans-clad legs ending in cowboy boots stepped out into the mud, followed by a tall man in a cowboy hat.

He left the pickup running and hop-skipped over the muddy road to her car window. Jayda rolled her window down just enough that she could ask for help.

The man leaned down and peered in through the narrow opening.

“Are  you needing some help, Ma’am?” a deep masculine voice asked with a country drawl.

“Oh, my goodness, yes! I almost hit a herd of cattle here in the road and when I swerved, I slid into this ditch,” Jayda blinked as rain and wind came through the open window and blew into her eyes.

The man shivered and huddled in a futile effort to avoid the rain and wind. Debris from the storm was swirling around the car. The man wiped moisture from his face and looked closely into the car.

“Are you alone? Are you pregnant?” The darkness of the night prevented him from looking very far into the vehicle.  

“Yes, and I’m in labor.  I need to get to Salina Regional Hospital right away!  Please! Can you help me?” Jayda begged. The man drew in a sharp gasp and then nodded.

“You bet, Ma’am, just let me get turned around in the next driveway and I’ll be right with you. Can you get your personal belongings you will need ready and I’ll transfer you to my pickup. I’ll be right with you.” 

He turned back to his pickup, an F-250 Ford pickup, and hopped back across the mud. He opened the door and drove away from her. About half a mile behind her, he made a U-turn and drove back to park behind her.

He once again hopped through the rain and mud to her driver’s side door. Jayda gathered her bag and purse, opened her door, and turned to step out. At that moment, another contraction hit and she gasped and cried out. “Just a moment. I’m having a contraction. It will just be a moment. Can you take these things to your pickup while I try to relax?”

“Of course, here, give them to me,” the man took her belongings and hurried back to his pickup where he put them in the cab. Back to her car, he hurried through the muck. He was soaked and shivering with cold, even though it was summer. But he was determined to help this damsel in distress.

Jayda tried to stand, but the road was slippery and she slid, almost falling in the mud.

“Oh, no! Let me help you!” the man grasped her arm and helped her to stand, putting his boots in front of her so she wouldn’t slide. When he saw just how advanced her pregnancy was, he put one arm behind her knees and swooped her up into his arms against his chest. “I don’t want to take a chance on your falling. I’ll just carry you. It’s not that far.”

Jayda looked into his eyes and saw kindness and compassion. She nodded and he walked as quickly as the situation permitted to the passenger door of his pickup. With his hands full, he struggled to open the door. Jayda reached out and opened the door. He backed up and she pulled the door open as much as she could.

“Thanks, lady. I wondered how I was going to get that open.” He chuckled and carefully deposited her on the seat of the vehicle. He softly closed the door and moved around the front of the pickup as rapidly as he could.

Once seated at the steering wheel, he looked over at her and smiled. It was a very nice smile, on a stunningly handsome face.  He removed his dripping cowboy hat and placed it on the bench between them, resting it on its crown.

“Ok, let’s get this baby to the hospital right now.” He put the truck in gear and they slowly started moving. “I’m not fond of the idea of delivering your baby here in this vehicle.” He grinned at her, and her heart gave a little flutter.

“Me neither,” she commented. “By the way, my name is Jayda. Jayda Michaels. I live just three miles west of where my car is perked in that ditch.”

She gave him a weak smile, as another contraction gripped her belly. She winced and grabbed the door handle in her right hand and the edge of the seat in front of her. At first, she held her breath and her face appeared tense and painful. Then she started doing the labor exercises she had watched on a video at home. That helped her relax through the contraction and soon she was able to talk once more. She regretted not having regular doctor visits through her pregnancy. But with no money or insurance, that hadn’t been an option.

“I want to thank you for what you are doing. You’re my hero. And I don’t even know your name,” she laughed.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Mark. Mark Reeves. I live just about five miles west of  you. I own a farm there, which I inherited. I’m divorced. My ex-wife, Lucinda, didn’t like farm life. She’s a city girl and hated the animals, the smells, and everything about it.”

“That’s terrible. How did you get together in the first place? Oh, forgive me. That was intrusive and none of my business.” Her face flamed and she looked down at her belly, starting to feel another contraction building.

“Oh that’s ok. Don’t worry about it. It’s common knowledge around here. I met Lucinda while I was in New York. I was on leave from the Marines after returning from Afghanistan. I’d always wanted to see the Big Apple, so that’s where I went.  I hated it. There were so many people! I was surrounded by people but felt so lonely.”

“That sounds strange, but I can understand it. People in crowds don’t communicate well. Makes a person feel like an island in an  ocean!” Jayda scrunched her face up in pain, gripping the door handle. Her knuckles whitened from the pressure she was applying.

“Anyway, I was sitting in this bar commiserating with a drink in front of me. This  gorgeous brunette stepped up to the bar beside me and hopped onto the next barstool.”

“She put her hand on my arm and asked, “Are you going to drink that? Or can I have it. I’m out of money and I’m not ready to go yet.”

So, being the gentleman I am, I bought her a drink and we started talking. She was a student at Berkeley College and was on Christmas break. We hit it off—then. We dated for a few months, a lot of it letters while I was still on duty.  We tied the knot in front of a Justice of the Peace and when I was discharged, I brought her home to meet my parents.”

Jayda listened to his story, while tensing through several labor pains. She peered out into the dark night. The winds and rain had died down, and the stars shone bright in the sky.  She tried to relax, using her Lamaze breathing, and hoping they would arrive at the hospital soon, because she was starting to feel urges to push.

They pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot and Mark stopped at the ER door.  He rushed around to her side and opened her door, pulling her into his arms once more and ran for the door. Pushing the entrance intercom button, he shouted into the speaker. “I’m Mark Reeves and I have a woman in intense labor. Please let us in or she’ll be having this baby in your parking lot!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hero In Cowboy Boots Ch. 1

Here is Chapter 1 of my story. I hope you like it.

Hero in Cowboy Boots

Chapter 1

 

Jayda Michaels squinted as she tried to keep her five-year old Ford Escort between the ditches. Visibility was down to about ten feet. Rain and dust blew across the road like a dusty blizzard. Rutted from past drivers who also took a wrong turn in this storm.  Not a house in sight for miles added to her tension and fear. She needed to get to the hospital. Now!  She was about ten miles north and west of Salina on a narrow dirt road with little to no shoulders.

 

Another contraction gripped her belly. Harder this time. She watched the clock until it passed. Six minutes apart now and more painful. Her body stiffened until the contraction ended and then gradually relaxed. She cursed the baby’s father, Brad Jenkins, for deserting her in her time of need. It wasn’t fair to her baby, and it certainly wasn’t fair to her.

 

Tears gathered at a memory. It had been on a Saturday night, at Brad’s favorite bar, Barney’s Bar and Grill. Brad had promised he would stand by her when he first learned of her pregnancy. Even though he really didn’t want children. He “wasn’t even ready for marriage, let alone the whole diapers and baby bottles type of thing.” But he said he would stay with her---then.

He had never been kind to her. Good looks and a warm bed at night did not make her happy. She wanted a marriage made in heaven, like her parents’ marriage enjoyed.

 

She was not a church member, even though she believed in God and that if she believed in God, she would be saved. She didn’t see any reason why she had to go spend an hour every week with a bunch of hypocrites who stared at her and her burgeoning body and whispered about her.

 

Her pregnancy had been uneventful, for the most part. Jayda stayed at home, just leaving the house for groceries and supplies. She helped support herself by selling products online. Her bills were low, except for the mortgage, and the house was well insulated. She had no animals to take care of, no crops that she had to tend to, They were handled on a cash rent basis and no obligations to anyone else.

Jayda preferred to stay at home alone. Life was easy there. It was private. She had inherited just enough money to make ends meet if she was careful with her spending habits and busied herself with her online sales.

 

Jayda didn’t see much of Brad anymore and that was ok with her. She was tired of his abuse and slovenly habits. She socialized on Facebook and Snapchat. Occasionally, she would drive into town to the bar.  Not to drink, but to sip on some iced tea and enjoy conversations with friends.

 

Sometimes she spied Brad at the bar. He’d glare at her, but normally he avoided her and she him. As she came close to term, he pointed at her and laughed at her belly. So humiliating, embarrassing!

 

Then one night, Brad, well on his way to a fallen-down drunken state, and ruder by the minute, became especially obnoxious. His disheveled brown hair needed shampoo. His bloodshot hazel eyes   blinked often, trying to focus on the people around him. His clothing looked like he had slept in them with dirt and food stains on the sleeves and knees.

“Jayda, you knew when we got together that I didn’t want kids, or even a long-term relationship! Did you plan this all along? Did you think you were going to trap me into marrying you? Well, you can just think again, sweetheart! Brad Jenkins wasn’t born no kind of fool! I’m not marrying you, and I don’t want your damned kid! I could just kill you now and never feel a bit of remorse! Now, get the heck out of here and leave me alone!” He slammed his beer glass on the bar for emphasis, sloshing beer all over the countertop and causing other customers to stare and comment on the scene just witnessed.

 

Jayda ran, sobbing with humiliation and anger from the bar to her little red Escort. She drove herself home to her family home of all her twenty-five years. She missed her parents so much! She needed their advice and support, and--- just someone to love her. She wondered how she would survive this pregnancy. Still six weeks to go before her due date!

 

She didn’t try to contact Brad. Too much pride to throw herself at the feet of someone who didn’t want her. And this baby didn’t deserve a deadbeat dad either. Brad stalked her during the first few months, then he seemed to drop off the face of the earth. A sigh of relief, for sure. Life began to level out.

 

So, when she first started contractions on a late August night, she stubbornly refused to consider calling for an ambulance to take her to the hospital right away. Jayda determined to wait until closer to delivery time. The most common thing to do when alone and starting labor is to demand your significant other drive you to the hospital once your labor has been well established. Thanks to Brad’s immaturity and selfishness, that was no longer an option.

With few or no friends in the area, no money, no insurance, not even a steady doctor, her options seemed limited. A self-pregnancy test confirmed her pregnancy months ago. She had read books at the library about pregnancy and childbirth. The whole thing terrified her. She didn’t believe in abortion and couldn’t afford one anyway.

So here she sat, driving in the middle of the night through the pouring rain to a hospital she’d never set foot in, to have her baby. Water dripped from her long brown hair. Her brown eyes shone with unshed tears.

 

She turned on the car radio to check the weather forecast. Tornado warnings were posted for the entire area until four a.m. Two a.m. now, the clock read. The visibility was terrible. She couldn’t see five feet in front of the car. Debris flew across the road as the winds swirled around her car. A loud roar filled the air around the car, so loud she could no longer hear the radio. She shut the radio off and glanced in the rearview mirror. Visibility nil. Her little car began to rock violently, and the pressure caused her breathing to struggle. Terrifying.

 

Another contraction almost bent her over double. She jerked as   the baby kicked violently. Her belly muscles felt like she could bounce a tennis ball on it. “Oh, Jayda! You do get yourself into some fine messes, don’t you? I wish Mama were with me! She’d know what to do! And Daddy could be driving me to the hospital instead of myself having to do everything! “

Her parents were gone. Jayda teared up again. A plane crash killed them both at the same time a year ago, returning home from a Mexican vacation. No survivors. Everything burned to ashes. Jayda grieved so extremely hard since then. When Brad tried to comfort her, they conceived this child. Now she not only was grieving from her parents’ passing, but the loss of Brad as her support system, and unless she could get to the hospital, she might lose her baby too.

As sole heir to the farm, Jayda should have been set for life. Unfortunately, the farm was struggling, and she was behind on the mortgage. No experience at farming, she tried to lease the acreage to a neighboring farmer. The cattle, hogs, and chickens sold last year to help pay for the taxes and utilities. Even with that money, she still wasn’t keeping up with the mortgage payments.

 

Thinking about all her bad situations, Jayda almost did not see about ten head of cattle standing in the middle of the muddy road. She screamed and swerved, sliding into the shallow ditch. The cattle swarmed around her car and put their wet noses on the windowpanes, obviously hoping she would feed them some hay.

 

Jayda sat for a moment, violently shaking with shock, and looked around her, trying to get a bead on where she was. She could see headlights piercing the rain and wind, traffic was getting heavier at a crossroads about two hundred yards ahead. Finally, she must be close to the interstate highway. Fat lot of good that did her, though. She knew she was stuck in this ditch and going to deliver this baby herself, right here in this dang car.

 

The rain began to lighten up now, and visibility improved to about one hundred yards. As she stared morosely out of the windshield, she observed headlights turned toward her from the interstate.

“Oh, God, please! Please let this be someone who can help me!” Jayda prayed.

 

Always save before shutting down.

I know I haven't been posting lately..  I've  been busy writing. Two days worth of chapters in my book, Hero in Cowboy Boots. I had 8 chapters done, and was ready to start chapter 9 today. But when I went to check the end of Chapter 8, it wasn't there. None of the chapters I had written the past few days was saved to my computer or the cloud. It's gone.

I'm just sick. So much work gone, and it's all because I thought the computer was on autosave. I've learned a huge lesson but at what a cost! Anyone know any special tricks to get my story back? I have Chapter 5 saved. But somehow something got switched off, and so I have 3 chapters missing.

Oh well. It could be worse. I could have had a complete computer breakdown and lost the whole thing. So, I'll count my blessings, thank God for them and my lesson, and get back to work.

Word program is very frustrating to me. My cursor jumps all over the place while I'm typing so that very often, I'll be typing along, and all of a sudden, I'm typing inside words of the paragraph above. Sometimes it will be indenting after the first line of a paragraph, and I know I never typed that instruction. So, I have to stop and make corrections, and by the time I'm finished, I've lost my train of thought and have to stop and think where was I going with this paragraph?

I don't seem to have that problem when I'm typing on this site. Maybe I should just do all my chapters here in Blogger and then save them into Word. At least I'd have a copy in the cloud as backup.

Anyone who thinks writing is an easy job; you should try it sometime.

Back to work, Dixie.

Productive Writing

Today was fruitful. I started writing after breakfast, and by eight o'clock tonight I had four chapters finished in my rough draft, ready to start editing. 

This is exciting, watching as my brainchild, Hero in Cowboy Boots begins taking form and coming to life. The words flowed easily, and I tried to watch my passive verbs. I couldn't eliminate them all, but I whittled them down to a manageable amount. 

I also went to confessions at the church. We are counting down to the Easter season, and the Lord will occupy a large part of our time and hearts. My OCIA class is also making an impact. Both my husband and myself are praying and reading our Bibles, and trying to manage what we watch, say and read in our lives. I feel so free right now, knowing I am forgiven. Tomorrow I'll be able to take communion at Mass. What an amazing feeling!

For those of you who do not know Jesus, He is the reason I have survived for over 74 years. I can't begin to count all the times He has saved me, with the help of my Guardian Angel, who is kept very busy at times. Like the time I woke up on the left side of the Clifton river bridge, meeting a car that could have been full of kids and family or friends. Or the time I rode a dirt bike down a very long rocky driveway. A classmate was driving a car behind me going about 50 mph. One rock turned the wrong way could have caused me to crash  that dirt bike. We both made it and my friend was very impressed with my riding. But my parents were not so impressed. I didn't get to try that trick again.

I hope I can keep my sinning under control enough to take communion tomorrow. It's been a couple of weeks since I've been to communion.

May God be merciful to my soul.

Back at it finally!

This  post was meant for this blog and accidentally posted to my sister blog Canvas of the Soul. So if you see a duplication, that's why...

  I know it looks like I haven't been writing, but I have been working offline on my outline for A Hero in Cowboy Boots. It's a Christian contemporary romance set in Salina, Ks.

I finished my outline/summary yesterday, and today I posted the rough draft of Chapter 1 in my focused study group at WVU. I'm excited, because it means I'll be getting feedback from others and can progress now to Chapter 2, which is another chapter I had lost in my computer crash a few years ago. 

I may have to rewrite the chapters I've lost, but hopefully they will be better than the originals. I was so thrilled to find my notebook last week with my outline in it. I've also found my notebook with the printouts of chapters from my first novel, which is close to being completed (rough draft) and will be ready to start editing and rewriting.

I'd post my chapters on here, but I don't think anyone is reading my blog anyway. I never hear from anyone about it. It is one of my goals for my life to get at least one of my stories published. I don't expect to get rich or famous, but the idea of being a published author has long been a dream of mine.

My art is another dream. I have sold a few paintings, not for any large amounts. If anything, I practically give them away. As a matter of fact, I am running low on storage space and have a LOT of paintings around my house, so if anyone is interested, I can share pics online of my art and you can purchase them dirt cheap! lol

In the meantime, I'll keep writing and painting, and storing a lot of it in boxes in the basement. Talk about a fire hazard!

Back to work, Dixie!

A good and productive day

Today I decided to clean out my closet. What a mess! I had no idea I had so many clothes. Spring and summer are all mixed with the fall and winter clothes. They were packed in boxes and bags and lying loose on top of a little dresser inside my closet.

I worked for hours on the piles and boxes, sorting them out into summer and winter piles. Each pile went into a bag or box labeled summer, winter, or donate.  Some were hung back into the closet to be worn soon.  I’ve got a nice selection of tops and sweaters.

I have a lot of leggings and jeans. Those were sorted into piles of jeans that fit now, and the ones that don’t fit were put into the donate boxes. I am donating a couple of summer housecoats that really are too tight and aren’t comfortable.

T shirts! I have a mountain of T-shirts. I’m donating a lot of those. I found a lot of Ruby Ribbon Camis, demi cams, and other items that are nice yet and quite expensive to buy. I’m thinking about sending some of the nicer stuff to one of those resell shops.

I’ve got a bunch of blankets. I’m going to put a couple into the car for those frigid mornings when I just can’t get warm, even with the heater on. The rest will go back into the closet for the cold winter nights.

A lot of stuff went into the laundry room to be washed. I’ll have to be careful with some of the delicate stuff that can’t be dried. I tend to dump everything together into the dryer from the washer.

I think I’ve finally gathered up all the Christmas sweaters. I put them in a plastic tote and sealed them up. They’ll go on the back porch until next Christmas season.  I’ve got one Thanksgiving turkey sweatshirt. I might wear it occasionally since it doesn’t have the word Thanksgiving on it.

I packed away my two swimsuits. I don’t think I’ll need them anytime soon, if ever again.  I really don’t look attractive in a swimsuit and haven’t for about 40 years at least. I still remember that little yellow polka dot bikini that I used to wear when I was in college. I looked good then. But that was more than 50 years ago, before having babies. Sigh!

I still have a mountain of clothes to go through, but I ran out of time, so the pile is back in the closet. But the pile is smaller than it was, and I feel good about what I’ve accomplished. I knew I’d never get it all done today. Maybe I can work on it again tomorrow.

I also did some laundry and got my floors swept. So it has been a productive day. And as you see, I found time to write in my blog. YES!

Now I need to get a painting sketched onto canvas so I can get another one done for the bank. With only 3 members at the present time, I must display a different painting every 3 months. That’s going to keep me hopping.

So, here’s to having a good day! It was a good one and I feel good about it. I hope you have a good day too.

January 26: Big Day in Our Family

Tonight, we are going to Becky's house to celebrate the birthday of her daughter Whitley. Her birthday isn't until the 26th, but due to some bad weather coming in, we're doing it tonight. We'll probably have a meal, soup or sandwiches or something similar. Whitley will open her gifts, and we'll have cake and ice cream after singing Happy Birthday to her. All of this is accompanied by laughter, visiting amongst the adults, and a rip-roaring good time by the kids playing with their toys and competing for attention from the adults.

Whitley will have her boyfriend, Blake, with her, and depending on weather conditions, may leave after the party to return to Manhattan, or stay the night. Hopefully, Colin and his little family will be there, as well as other family members.

This has been a tradition since Colin was a baby and extends to all family members. What some may not remember is that January 26 is also my mom's birthday and her wedding anniversary. Mama would be 96 years old, and it would be their 76th wedding anniversary. An aunt of mine also shared a birthday on the 26th.

Traditions are a huge part of my life. Most of them relate to milestones in our lives: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, graduations, funerals, and religious holidays. We usually try to get as many family members together to participate in these activities. Photos are a large part of these activities also.

My mom was a big one for collecting photos of all of us throughout our lives. She had boxes, bags, albums, and scrapbook pages of all of us. She could usually tell you who we were and characteristics of each of us. She pointed her camera toward us every time we came to visit, even after we were adults. It was her way of making sure we were living fossils, I guess. I treasure most of the photos, but I really wish she would have penciled in who the other family members were on the backs of the photos. Because I may have known them when I was very young, but I can't remember their names any more now that I'm an adult with beginning senility. 

Well, almost time to get this party started. Maybe I can do an "Opal" and snap a few photos of my own. If I do, I'll try to post them on here. Digital photos take up a lot less space and last as long as I don't accidentally delete them or lose where I saved them to.

Party time!

Writers Village University

 I renewed my membership in Writer's Village University; a writer's group I have called my second home since 1998. It's an online group with writing courses for beginners through professional authors, poets, playwrights. 

Yearly dues are very reasonable, much cheaper than paying for college courses that require traveling and attendance in stuffy classrooms. All of these classes are online, and assignments can be completed in your jammies in your recliner, or wherever you are most comfortable. Once your dues are paid, your classes are free of charge, unless you need a book (rare) and those can be obtained anywhere at very reasonable rates.

I signed up for a class today, too. It's called Creativity in a Box. Most writers must learn to use rules and limits set by the editor, publisher, etc. Word limits are the most common and come from the editor's need to fit the story or article into a tight space. There can be other rules as well. For instance, topical or genre limits. An editor might not be happy if you turn in a child's poem when what the editor is looking for is an editorial on a political controversy. 

My assignment will be to write a story using exactly 1000 words, and there is a list of other rules that I can choose from. I need 3 rules. I haven't chosen those yet, but I will later this afternoon. The class will be 2 weeks in duration, so I can't waste time on playing online games, which are a weakness of mine. I can't procrastinate either, because with these rules, it's going to take more time to write than if I were to just, say, write my blog. 

Sometimes in the past, I have chosen my art and writing as procrastination crutches, tools to avoid doing something I really should be doing, like income taxes, paying bills or housework. I don't suppose any of you have procrastination crutches, do you? Well art and writing are mine.

So, while the rest of you are slaving away at your income taxes and other odious chores this next month or so, think of my doing my crutch chores in my recliner, with a cup of hot chocolate and a snack close by.

Sometimes procrastination can be good for the soul. More fun anyway.

What do I see?

What do I see when I look in the mirror?

A face only a mother could love.

I see hazel eyes that reflect the colors in my clothes, eyebrows that are unruly and straight, with a couple of hairs that obstinately stick straight out and are white or gray in color. My eyes are not as strong as they once were. My vision is gradually deteriorating, a consequence of my gluttony: lots of fatty foods and delicious but deadly sweet treats. I do have kind eyes, though. At least I always have strived to look kindly on others.

A mouth that once was delicate, with soft pouty lips, now is either a thin straight line or compressed into a downturned angry expression.  It’s not the face of my dear mother, more the face of my dad, who kept his smiles to a minimum, and only briefly allowed them to peek through his serious persona. Life has not always been kind to me. I do need to work on that expression though.

My ears are rather small, something I’ve always appreciated. I inherited them from my mom. My dad’s ears were considerably larger. My hearing is diminished now too.  Most sounds are garbled and my tinnitus is so loud I can’t understand what I do hear.  I know it is frustrating for hubby to have to turn up the volume on the tv for me. Most of the time, I simply tune everything out and use my earbuds for my phone or computer, where I can have the volume that I need. It’s frustrating, to say the least, but it’s my life.

My skin has aged rather suddenly. I used to use skin products on a regular basis, but now that I’m retired and basically a hermit at home, I don’t bother with the skin creams and ointments that kept my skin supple and soft and wrinkle free.  Age spots appear all the time, with a new crop showing up at least weekly.  Maybe someday they will all join together and I’ll finally have the “tan” I’ve always wanted but always eluded me. Wrinkles are like thieves, stealing my looks and my youth. They surround my eyes and my mouth so far but are creeping upward to my cheeks like a thief in the night.  Too tired to worry about such vanity anymore, I just watch and curse them. I do have some moles that I watch closely, especially since having a cancerous squamous cell lesion removed under my left eye a year ago. The scar is healing well, and I have to look closely to see it now. My glasses also help to hide it.

My hair is straight and a mousy light brown with gray streaks around my face. I think it makes me look tired and old, but my hairdresser thinks my hair color is attractive and “suits” me. Whatever. I stopped coloring my hair back in 2020, after my mom died. I just didn’t have the desire to do it anymore. It does save money to go au naturelle.

So, what do I see when I look in my mirror? I see a woman who is 74 years old, a woman who has led a life of work, sorrow, pain and frustration, but also a woman who has had many joys in her life. My husband is a retired truck driver, who has dedicated his life to “taking care of me” and sometimes that is wonderful, and sometimes it adds to the frustration.

My family, children, grandchildren, and now great grandchildren, are the joys in our lives. Their photos line our walls from top to bottom. My little dog, Maizie, makes me laugh but also annoys me when she snoops around the house and finds things to chew.

My faith in God is my rock. The Lord has been good to me, and my Guardian Angel has been busy trying to keep me out of trouble. When our youngest daughter was killed in a house fire at the age of 21 in 1999, God gave me the strength to carry on. Without Him, I would have dissolved into a mess of quivering sobs. I’ve cried many tears for my Teresa, but we’ve learned to cope and move on with our lives. Having her daughter, Regan and granddaughter, Maliyah help us to see joy in our lives again.

So, I look in my mirror, and see a daughter of God, a wife, sister, mother, grandmother and great grandma who finds joy in her family, enjoys her art and writing and animals in her life.

I see a life well lived.

 

Today was catch- up- on- sleep day. We both were exhausted. We went to church of course. We have to be seriously ill to miss that. But we decided to miss the after-Mass lunch date we usually do, at Clifton's County Divide Cafe, which is the best meal for the money to be had around in several counties, or Concordia's Easy G's Sports Bar & Grill, where you can watch your favorite football, basketball, baseball, hockey, or other sports teams duke it out every day of the week, while chowing down on some great sandwiches, hot or cold, along with some awesome house fries or tater tots, or a huge salad, and coffee, tea, pop, or your favorite alcoholic beverage. Wow! Is that a run-on sentence, or am I just hungry?

Anyway, as I said, we by-passed all of that tasty goodness for a long nap at home in our recliners, which would have been great except for the dog, Maizie, who was so excited to have us back home that she kept jumping all over me and licking whatever skin she could find.

I've been sleeping a lot lately, almost too much, I think. Sometimes I think I have narcolepsy.  Thursday night I struggled to stay awake at our Catholic class session, and it wasn't because it was boring, because it most certainly was not boring. Fr. Andrew makes all of his homilies and lessons very interesting and we get some lively conversations going sometimes. I've been a Catholic since 1969 and I've learned more about the Church in the past three months than I did in all the years before that.

Today's homily was about the Baptism of Jesus Christ, and Fr.  said Jesus's baptism wasn't the same baptism that we all get. Because with our baptism we are freed from Original Sin and Jesus didn't need redemption, because he was perfect already. 

In the bulletin each week, there is a mini lesson, Catholic 101. This week it was on the importance of attending Church every weekend and why missing it was a serious sin. We already knew that, but sometimes a reminder just hits home a little bit. How did Fr. Andrew know that we both had been tempted to stay home this Sunday?

Dennis wasn't feeling well and hasn't for several days. It's nothing like the flus or other viral bugs going around lately, just a common physical ailment that strikes him several times a month. And I was fighting my chronic sinus congestion. I didn't really have a headache, but felt very congested and sluggish, and I have brain fog on a regular basis.

Such is life in the elderly. Now at almost six p.m., I finally coming alive and getting a little laundry done and writing my blog.

I hope everyone reading this hasn't fallen asleep in boredom. I promise to share some new writing I'm doing in the next few days, so please keep reading.

Have a Blessed Sunday!

OCIA Returns

This post was from Thursday evening. I forgot to post it. Ooops!

After having my pupils dilated this morning, my vision was like looking through a drop of water, very distorted and ultrabright and blurry. So, when we had OCIA (Catholic lessons for adults) tonight, I had a few problems copying from the whiteboard. 

We learned a few things though. Even Dennis claims to have learned some things about his faith. For instance, we learned that there is a difference between Sisters and Nuns. Nuns are primarily cloistered (kept separately and in private in convents that are not open to the public, and they have a vow of total poverty. Sisters can inherit some property that is kept in the Church's accounts and Sisters can mingle with the public, doing God's work in schools, hospitals and other areas, while nuns are kept isolated and silent. Nuns may only see family members every few years in some instances, and even then, only through a veil.

We were discussing Mary, the Mother of Jesus and how she was born without Original Sin and died but was "assumed" body and soul into Heaven, still a virgin. 

We discussed a little comparison between Catholicism and Protestantism and how the Protestants came to be separated from the Catholic faith. It was all very interesting.

The weather all day was chilly and rainy. The chill went right through my bones. I couldn't get warm enough. I wore a hoodie to class tonight and my legs were still chilly. But I'm glad I went, even though I was tempted to stay home and warm.

Tomorrow, we'll be taking a road trip to Salina to pick up some insulin at my endocrinologist's office. Dennis has a little shopping to do too. Hopefully, the weather will be a little better.

Maizie has been a little pill today. She grabbed one of Dennis' handkerchiefs and tore a big hole in it. Then she grabbed a small box of Immodium out of my pill box and chewed that up. I need to find a spot to hide my pills during the day

I need to sort my books and magazines tomorrow and find a home for the ones I don't plan to keep. I have a lot of catalogs and magazines and instructional books in totes and boxes.

I'd like to open a little library box in our front yard, but not sure if there are rules about that kind of thing, so I'll wait until I know for sure if I'll get into trouble.

Anyone know how to stay out of trouble with books?

Walmart pharmacy

It'd been a long day already at 2:15 p.m., so I was not exactly in the mood to deal with a cantankerous answering machine at Walmart. Yesterday, I called the VA to check on my Tresiba prescription. Well, that was a bust, because I never got beyond the opening message about how it was a government facility and not to be used by anyone unauthorized to use it---blah, blah, blah, then put on hold for the next available representative. I was on hold for 12 minutes and never got to talk to a human, never got beyond the recording "please stay on the line. All our representatives are currently busy taking other calls. Your call is important to us and will be answered in the order it was received." After about 15 minutes, I hung up the line and called the doctor's office to check on my prescription from that end. 

 

The call -waiting time with the doctor was much shorter, only about 4 minutes, and I reached the doctor's nurse, Lisa, who was very kind and helpful. She investigated the computer records and came back on the line and apologized because she had never gotten the medication ordered. She said she remembered saying she held off on ordering it from the VA because she wanted to see how I'd do on the medication from the sample she'd sent home with me 2 weeks ago. I explained that I was almost out of the pen she'd sent with me and that it would take 7 to 10 days to get it through the VA unless it was put on urgent request and I would still be out for at least a couple of days. So, she promised to put some aside for me to pick up at my convenience. I explained that I lived about 65 miles from her clinic and I wasn't sure when I could get down there but would be there in the next few days.

 

So, this morning, we left Clyde about 10 a.m. and headed for Salina. 

When we arrived at the clinic, the receptionist was polite and asked for my birth date and name, and what I needed today. I explained that there should be a package waiting for me from my doctor. She disappeared into the back office and soon returned with a package for me. I thanked her and we took my package to the car and I opened it. To my surprise, there was not one pen of my Tresiba, there were five pens, enough to last about a month, maybe more.

After we ate breakfast at IHOP, we went to Harbor Freight where Dennis bought a wheeled cart he needed, then headed for home.

 

On the way home, we discussed stopping at Walmart in Concordia to pick up some prescription eye drops I needed. Dennis offered to go in and pick them up for me. I stayed in the car and read my paperback book.

 

After reading for about twenty minutes and then taking a short nap, I was awakened by Dennis climbing into the car and saying “Well, that was a bust. I didn’t get your eye drops. They told him they didn’t have an order for my eye drops. I knew that was bullshit because I had just gotten an email about them being ready for refill the day before. They told him they have to have an order or refill request from the doctor, then they can refill it. They didn’t offer to call the doctor themselves like they used to do.  

 

So, as we’re driving down the highway, I’m on the phone with the doctor’s office explaining my situation. They said that they would get the medication refill ordered. A few minutes later, I called Walmart again, and the answering machine picked up my call and asked for my name, and I explained what I needed. I’m trying to explain, and the machine is interrupting me with more questions. They wanted me to state my name and date of birth. I answered, “Dixie Barnes and 10-09-51”. The machine replied, “You said June 9, 1951. Is that correct? Say yes or type in 1” I said “No! October 9, 1951” The machine replied “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Is your birthday June 9, 1951? Say yes or type 1”.

 

By this time, my blood is boiling and I’m shouting in the phone. Dennis is trying not to laugh but is shaking his head no. We finally got my birthdate right, then they asked what I needed again. I told them I needed my Latanoprost eye drops. After a moment, the machine replied, “we show that medication is due for a refill. Is this correct? Say yes or type 1.” I replied “Yes! I need my Latanoprost eye drops.”

Finally, the machine said “your order is being processed and may be picked up tomorrow after 4 p.m.”

“Thank God!” I replied.

I think next month I’m going to go into Walmart myself to pick it up after checking it out online. That seems to work better for me and my blood pressure.