Be careful where you walk...
Picture the first cold day of the year. It’s a Sunday. The sky is bright and cloudless. The air is continually brisk. If you stand outside for too long, your cheeks turn pink. On such a day, you decide to meet your friend at the local mall for a bit of shopping and fun. You haven’t met for a while, and today seems as good a day as any.
On such a cold day, dressed in your newly drawn out warm clothes and favorite coat, you and your friend decide a warm drink will start the shopping day out right. You walk a straight line to the book shop that has a coffee stand inside its walls. As you walk past a small gathering of individuals, sitting around the table with computer, you hear the following conversation:
“Have you killed anyone before?”
“Oh, yes. Plenty. I enjoy it.”
“Oh, that’s very good. I know so many that won’t kill.”
“But you have to, don’t you? I mean, what’s the point?”
Well, that’s the conversation I had with a fellow mystery writer at the National Novel Writing Month gathering at the Books-A-Million’s Cup o’ Joe. Of course, we writers sat in our own little bubble of newly met writery. It didn’t dawn on either of us, me and the mystery writer, that we were saying anything wrong.
However, the other mystery writer nearly popped her eyes out holding the laughter in until the two young ladies who overheard our conversation left. We all had a wonderful laugh once we were pulled out of our worlds to see how we must have sounded to someone passing by.
* * * * *
I have filled myself on sadsadmonkey’s signature dish all weekend. Yum! Somehow, I cannot get enough. I am going to have to add extra hours to my walking to combat these calories.
* * * * *
Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes series do nothing for my teenage crush on the character.
* * * * *
Tomorrow, we celebrate Thanksgiving in my department. I have paid my cash and have a pie sitting atop the refrigerator to take in. I expect to add even more hours to my walking schedule before this month is through.
* * * * *
In a new bought of retardness, black kitty has taken it upon herself to sit or stand between my Hubby and I when we are talking. It matters not the place in the house or what we say, she will run from wherever she is to place herself between us. She does no more than that; she does not rub us or meow for attention or to participate. She merely stands there.
Tonight, we confounded her. I snuggled up under my hubby’s arm, pressing up against his side. We talked about the gathering, about the Sherlock Holmes show, about remembering not to pack me lunch in the morning, etc. I looked up at Hubby while we talked. During a breath, I glanced at the show and found Black Kitty on both of our legs and trying desperately to figure out a way between us.
I laughed. Then, turning to pretend to say important things to Hubby (“Blah blah blah blah”), she meowed pitifully. It was killing her not to be between us! I laughed again, but unlike white kitty, she pays it no mind.
If you laugh at white kitty, she saunters off with all the indignity of a wronged party.
* * * * *
We have a new vacuum and a new dishwasher. Next up: stove.
* * * * *
Okay, I’m getting sleepy (because I had good sex today). I’m off.
On such a cold day, dressed in your newly drawn out warm clothes and favorite coat, you and your friend decide a warm drink will start the shopping day out right. You walk a straight line to the book shop that has a coffee stand inside its walls. As you walk past a small gathering of individuals, sitting around the table with computer, you hear the following conversation:
“Have you killed anyone before?”
“Oh, yes. Plenty. I enjoy it.”
“Oh, that’s very good. I know so many that won’t kill.”
“But you have to, don’t you? I mean, what’s the point?”
Well, that’s the conversation I had with a fellow mystery writer at the National Novel Writing Month gathering at the Books-A-Million’s Cup o’ Joe. Of course, we writers sat in our own little bubble of newly met writery. It didn’t dawn on either of us, me and the mystery writer, that we were saying anything wrong.
However, the other mystery writer nearly popped her eyes out holding the laughter in until the two young ladies who overheard our conversation left. We all had a wonderful laugh once we were pulled out of our worlds to see how we must have sounded to someone passing by.
* * * * *
I have filled myself on sadsadmonkey’s signature dish all weekend. Yum! Somehow, I cannot get enough. I am going to have to add extra hours to my walking to combat these calories.
* * * * *
Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes series do nothing for my teenage crush on the character.
* * * * *
Tomorrow, we celebrate Thanksgiving in my department. I have paid my cash and have a pie sitting atop the refrigerator to take in. I expect to add even more hours to my walking schedule before this month is through.
* * * * *
In a new bought of retardness, black kitty has taken it upon herself to sit or stand between my Hubby and I when we are talking. It matters not the place in the house or what we say, she will run from wherever she is to place herself between us. She does no more than that; she does not rub us or meow for attention or to participate. She merely stands there.
Tonight, we confounded her. I snuggled up under my hubby’s arm, pressing up against his side. We talked about the gathering, about the Sherlock Holmes show, about remembering not to pack me lunch in the morning, etc. I looked up at Hubby while we talked. During a breath, I glanced at the show and found Black Kitty on both of our legs and trying desperately to figure out a way between us.
I laughed. Then, turning to pretend to say important things to Hubby (“Blah blah blah blah”), she meowed pitifully. It was killing her not to be between us! I laughed again, but unlike white kitty, she pays it no mind.
If you laugh at white kitty, she saunters off with all the indignity of a wronged party.
* * * * *
We have a new vacuum and a new dishwasher. Next up: stove.
* * * * *
Okay, I’m getting sleepy (because I had good sex today). I’m off.