LouCeeL

She got here Saturday

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

Jientje got here at 5:20am Saturday morning - so the first thing we did was go to have breakfast. Egglectic Cafe - good stuff. And I took her picture with my little Fuji point and shoot.

And then the waitress took our picture, with my little Fuji point and shoot.

And then, in the parking lot, as we got ready to go down to the lakefront, she whipped out her weapon. And I took a picture of her, again, with me little Fuji point and shoot.

But then came the moment when the little Fuji point and shoot ran out of gas - overwhelmed by what I asked it to do.

It became time ... to break out the Big Dog.

Above shot with my Canon 30D.

Jientje's notebook computer crapped out on her sometime early in her trip, so she hasn't had the time or capability to post to her site. Look for her site, Heaven Is In Belgium, to be updated sometime Wednesday.

And I will have more pictures tomorrow.

Ndinombethe.

Snapping Sunday

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

Jientje arrived Saturday morning, as planned. Right time. Right place.

We had breakfast at Egglectic Cafe in Rolling Meadows and then we drove downtown and took pictures along the lakefront. There is little that is prettier than the lakefront early on a sunny morning.

Afterwards, we parked near the Sheraton, where BlogHer was held, and we walked. And walked. And walked - all the while taking picture. Many, many pictures.

By the time I dropped her off at her hotel at 5:30 last evening, I was toast. TOAST I tell you. It's over 40 miles from downtown Chicago to my home, and it was tough staying awake on the drive home. Good news is, though, that by the time I got home, #3 Son's temp was down to under 100 - so maybe he's coming out the other side of his flu.

I WAS going to post pictures last night. (Actually, I had intended to post pictures during the day - but it didn't work out.) But I was really fried when I got home. I farmed a little (SOMEbody STOP ME!!!), wrote this post, and went to bed. In fact, I'm sleeping right now. Unless, of course, it's after 5am - in which case, I'm awake, I'm awake.

And I'm out taking pictures with Jientje.

Ndinombethe.

The Plan, The Plan!! Or was that the plane?

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

It is the plan, actually.

Jientje arrives at 5:20am, CST. About 6 hours from when this is being written. I gotta get some SLEEP!! Sheesh.

There will probably be posting of pictures here through the day.

Jientje's husband is coming in a little after 1:00pm, CST.

And then we'll be downtown.

Taking pictures, seeing sights, just being with each other in this great, big, city.

We may even Tweet.

We'll see.

Ndinombethe.

p.s. There's a group of 5 posts on The Inferno as of 12:01 this morning, in response to the challenge "Holiday Home". Check 'em out. And check out the last one. Mine. Please?

Friday Haiku - Jientje

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

Soon she will arrive
Fresh from the Hawiian shore,
All suntan and stuff.

Jientje will be here,
And I will show her around,
Chicago, my town.

Pictures, forthcoming.
And there will be a surprise
Sometime Saturday.

Jientje will be here as of Saturday morning and I will be busy for the weekend. There will be picture taking and blogging - but Sarah is going to take the weekend off. I hope you understand.

I have a job to do.

Ndinombethe.

100 Word Challenge - Examine

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

What follows is in response to the 100 Word Challenge, authored by the studious Velvet Verbosity. The word today is "Examine".

Examine

"You need to examine your motives."
"Why, what?"
"These self destructive things you do; you need to understand why you do them."
"I don't know what you mean. I don't do this stuff on purpose."
"You don't THINK you do, but deep down inside, you KNOW you do."
"No. No I don't. I just don't know when to stop, that's all."
"But why do you start? What do you think drives you? Anger? Hurt? Fear?"
"I ain't afraid of nuthin'."
"Did someone hurt you? Is that why you hurt yourself?"
"I guess that's what we have to examine, ain't it?"

Catherine Ryan Hyde, the woman who wrote the book "Pay It Forward", has posted a 'video excerpt' for her book "Love in the Present Tense". The video is here. Keep in mind as you view this well done video that SHE DID the video stuff HERSELF.

Ndinombethe.

Wordless Wednesday - Kylemore Glass

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

South Stained Glass Window

Chapel, Kylemore Abbey, Ireland

Ndinombethe.

Schedule? What schedule?

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

I have another web site for which I write and for which I have adopted other responsibilities, as well - not the least of which is a cleanup and lean-up of the site, to make it easier to read, less confusing, and more focused on the real stars of the site - the people who write stuff for the site.

Which is fine.

But I am feeling a little disconnected from the sites I visit - mainly because I have not settled into a routine where I'm comfortable, yet, and I am, therefore, a little distracted.

If I haven't been to you in a while, I will be. And soon. Bear with me, 'K?

BTW, the other site is The Inferno. Stop by sometime and check out the writing there. The contributors are amazing.

Oh - and somebody PLEASE save me from Facebook? Please?

Ndinombethe.

Monday Meanders 11-9

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

The Bears lost yesterday - and they really looked bad doing it, too. It just goes to show you - sometimes the 'quick fix' does more harm than good. All this focus on "Quarterback" has taken away from other areas of need - and now we have no first or second round picks in the upcoming draft. I see long long downward spiral that will take a couple of years to make right.

I played Xbox over the weekend - Forza 3, a car racing game - at #2 Son's house. I hope Santa Claus saw all that and notes that I've been a good boy - and deserving.

It was a lovely and warm weekend in Chicagoland - marred by the Bears loss and Grannie isn't pleased with the way Tiger played golf over there in China, either. But both were great days to be outdoors - I'm sure there are few days left like those between now and the start of Winter.

Jientje arrives this coming Saturday morning. She's had such a good time everywhere else she's been - I hope I can make her stay here in Chicago as good as the other places she's been.

Ndinombethe.

Sarah - And Sully said ...

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

From last time ...

Across the highway, Chico sat in his car while Manuel filled it up with gas, and he watched Ma come out of the Motel and get in Jake's car and drive it around back. Sully gonna wanna know dees.

And now ...

Meanwhile, as Jake and Sarah were were getting into her Jeep ...

"Okay Chico. You drop me off here and go fill 'er up. But don't take too long. I wanna get back to Vegas, quick, before it gets to damn hot."

"Si, patron."

Sully walked into the gun shop - he was surprised to see that Jake wasn't there.

He walked up to the counter.

"Where's Jake?"

"He's not here."

"I can see that, boy. Don't get smart with me. Where's Jake?"

"I don't know, Mister. He called me early this morning and asked me to close the store up for a while. That's all I know, honest."

"Did he say why? Did he say where he's goin'?"

"No Sir, he didn't. And I didn't ask. I know he's due for another trip into the VA Hospital, but he's never asked me to close up the store before when he's gone there, so I really don't know ..."

"What about that old lady up the road? Do ya think she knows?"

"I don't know, Mister. Like I said - I'm just here to pack up the store."

"Gimme the phone. I'll call and see ... what's the number up there?"

"Just ask Sally to put you through - we don't dial out here."

"Oh ... well ... you call, then. Ask her where Jake is. Tell her Sully wants to know."

Two Feathers picked up the phone.

"Hello, Sally? Yeah, it's me. ... I'm fine, Sally. Put me through to Ma's, will ya? Yeah, Sally, I'll say 'Hi' to George. What? No, no she hasn't had the baby, yet ... Put me through, please?"

Sully began to look a little impatient. Two Feathers looked at him and shrugged and put his hand over the mouthpiece.

"It's ringing now ... Hi Ma? It's Billy. Is Jake up by you? ... Fella named Sully's here lookin' for him. ... Okay, Ma, I'll tell him."

He hung up the phone.

"Ma says he ain't up there and she don't know where he is. You two know each other or somethin'? 'Cause she didn't sound none too friendly ..."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Listen, if you see or hear from Jake, you tell him to get a hold of me as soon as possible. I've got some work for him and it has to be done in a hurry."

"Yessir, I'll tell 'im. But like I said - I don't know."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Damn. I need this stuff in a hurry. You be sure to tell him if you see him."

"Yessir."

Sully strolled out the door and stood in the sun, looking up the road toward Ma's, waiting for Chico to come back and pick him up. Damn, it's gonna be another hot fuckin' day out here. Chico best get his greaser ass movin' or I'm gonna be pissed. I don't like standin' around. Now I gotta figure out what I'm gonna do. I gotta get the stuff for the job and Jake ain't here. If I don't find him this whole operation is gonna go south and Vito will have my ass. MY ass. Well, it ain't gonna BE my ass on the line, here. Fuckin' Jake. Where is that bastard?

He turned around and stuck his head back inside the shop.

"Hey!! You got change for a buck? I wanna get a pop outta this machine out here."

"No. I don't. Jake didn't leave any money in the drawer, either. Here's a dime."

Two Feathers had reached in his pocket and pulled out a dime. He threw it to Sully.

Sully went back outside and lifted the lid on the pop machine, put his dime in the slot, and slid his bottle over to the mechanism that let him lift the soda out of the machine. He popped the lid off on the opener and took a long draw on the bottle of Coke. And let out a long, relaxing belch.

"Ahhhh."

He turned to look up the road and he could see Chico's car coming toward him. He finished his Coke just as Chico pulled off the road in a choking cloud of dust.

"Damn, Chico. I can't breathe."

"Sorry, patron. I was een a hurry. You come here looking for Jake, no?"

"Yeah, Chico. What about it?"

"I seen the old lady at de motel put Jake's car around de back of her place. Sometheeng don' look right to me."

"Shit. Something don't look right to me either. Now what the fuck is going on here?"

"You wanna go back up there?"

"Nah. Let's get back to town. But I want you to come back out here and I want you to find Jake. Clear? Get some of your boys and come back out here and find him. If you don't find him, Chico, don't come back."

"Oh, no problema, patron. We weel find heem. No problema."

"You better, Chico. Or we're dead."

Ndinombethe.

Sarah - Chico sees

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

From last time ....

Meanwhile, Sarah was just getting her Jeep stuck in the sand, Two Feathers was hiding behind a bush, and the Sheriff's men were just beginning to find pieces of Skinny scattered around Jake's trailer - or what was left of it.

And now ....

She slowed the jeep down out on the highway and then slowly turned left into Ma's dusty parking lot. She got out and walked into the small lobby of the motel. Jake and Ma were there.

"Hi, Jake. Hi, Ma." She walked over to Jake. "Two Feathers is gathering people together to pack up the store like you asked. He says he'll have it done before sundown."

"Good. One less thing to worry about for now."

"That guy you know - Stafford? His car blew up about a mile or so down the road from the store and Two Feathers' cousin said the Sheriff arrested four men on explosives charges."

"Good. Another thing less to worry about for now. It'll be days before they get out of jail."

"Oh .. and Two Feathers says it WAS your trailer that blew up this morning - he was right near your mailbox when it went. He seems to think there are still pieces of that thing coming down."

"Damn. Well, it is what it is. We'll just have to make do at the line shack for a while until I figure out how all this is going to play out. Meanwhile, we have your training to attend to, don't we?"

"Well, yeah, I was kinda wonderin' about that."

"No problem. In fact, let's get goin'. Out to the line shack and get started. Ma? Is it okay if I leave my car parked around back? I don't want it where it can be seen from the road."

"Sure, Jake. You can leave it here. You want a tarp over it? Or will you be comin' back right away?"

"You can cover it up if you wanna. That's not a bad idea. Not bad at all."

"Well then, you kids get outta here so I can get some stuff done around here and don't worry 'bout your car, Jake. Jus' gimme yer keys. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Ma. If you didn't remind me of a Gunnery Sergeant with a bad disposition I'd marry ya. I would."

"Ya. Right. Get outta here. Smartass Marine."

Jake and Sarah walked out to the Jeep, got in and drove away.

Ma walked over to the counter and sat on the stool next to the register.

The phone rang. It was Two Feathers.

"No. Jake isn't here, Billy. What's up? .... Well ... you just tell Sully you don't know where he is - and tell him it ain't no use comin' up here lookin' fer him, either. Unless he wants his nose busted again ... just tell 'im, Billy. He ain't here."

Damn. That's all I need. I better get that car moved around back pronto. Sully may not come in here but that don't mean he can't drive by. I can't let him see that car.

Across the highway, Chico sat in his car while Manuel filled it up with gas, and he watched Ma come out of the Motel and get in Jake's car and drive it around back. Sully gonna wanna know dees.

He paid his gas and turned south, toward the gun shop.

Friday Haiku - Season of Change

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

The seasons now change
The trees growing more naked,
The weather, colder.

Days can be dreary,
Evenings come quick, dark too soon,
The moon, bright and chill.

Leaves lie underfoot,
porches are bare of flowers,
Summer decor gone.

Soon will come winter,
Then will come Spring, but first comes,
this season of change.

Ndinombethe.

100 Word Challenge - Writ Large

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

What follows is in response to the 100 Word Challenge authored by the enormous talent called Velvet Verbosity. The phrase for this challenge is "Writ Large".

Writ Large

"Go to the fountain and wait," he had said.
They had met years ago. They had dated, exclusively, ever since. But he was always so quiet, so taciturn. She was always guessing what was in his mind, because he never talked .. never opened up. That made it hard being with him. Never knowing where she stood. Always living with that gnawing fear he would leave, walk away.
Her cellphone vibrated in her hand. LOOK UP it said. She did, and all her fears melted away, once and for always. For up there, writ large across the sky ... was MARRY ME.

Ndinombethe.

Wordless Wednesday - Kid's Play

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

In The Fog
One last time ... One last look back ...

Ndinombethe.

Tuesday, Blue Tuesday

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

I had this long list of questions. I erased the questions, because I could see all the comments coming. It's just that sometimes things get just a bit shitty. Or maybe all my biorhythms are on a down cycle at the same time. Whatever.

Tomorrow will be better.

Ndinombethe.

Monday Meanders 11-2

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

We had very few "Trick or Treaters" this year. I have no idea why. Last year we had many, many kids come to the door and I thought that this year, what with Halloween on Saturday and all, we'd be inundated. We weren't. More for me.

Economy in the tank. Real Estate values depressed. I wonder why my Real Estate taxes just went up almost 10%.

I am now managing "The Inferno", a site where writers respond to a challenge in concert with visual artists responding to the same challenge on The Artist Challenge. It's busy and hard to navigate and I am going to have to clean it up a bit so it's leaner, and easier. Arrrr. (That's Pirate talk.)

I watched a movie called "Appaloosa", starring Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen. I like a good western, once in a while. This was a good one. Oh, yeah. It had Renee Zellweger too. Naked. But briefly - and from a distance. A long distance.

If anyone cares to jump in, the 100 Word Challenge this week is "Writ Large". Click on the thingy up there on the left and read the 'rules'.

Have a great week.

Ndinombethe.

A Day of rest

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 05:01:00 +0000

Yesterday was so hectic that there was no time to prepare for today's post - so Sarah is taking this Sunday off.

Part of the hectic revolves around 'The Inferno' - a writer's site I'm managing now - and handling all my new responsibilities. The site is here.

So today is a day of rest for Sarah ... and for me.

Of course - there is always yardwork.

Ndinombethe.

Sarah - What Jake did

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 00:58:00 +0000

From last time ...

Billy Two Feathers stood in the doorway and watched her drive away. Not bad lookin' for a white woman. I bet she'd make a good Squaw. He went back into the shop and started making telephone calls.

And now ...

Jake watched her drive off south, toward the store, and then he got in his car and headed back down the gravel road the way he had come. It was going to take him longer than he wanted it to, to get to Ma's, but his car would never make it across the loose soil of the desert so he had to stay on the gravel.

By the time he got to the blacktop and turned southwest toward Ma's, he was concerned that Stafford would have already gotten to Ma.

The thought infuriated him. He tightened his grip on the wheel.

He was about a half mile up from the Diner when he saw Stafford's car move away from the Diner and into the dusty parking area in front of Ma's. He felt relieved. They had taken their time getting to her. Now, if I've just got the time to set this up ....

He pulled off the road in front of the Diner, out of sight of the car. Jake got out of his car and pulled the Skorpion out of the back seat and then went to the trunk, wrapped some tape and a blasting cap into some dynamite and hooked up an egg timer to the whole thing and did it in less than a minute.

He walked around the corner of the Diner and across the lot to the back end of Stafford's car - turned the handle and opened the trunk.

The driver hopped out of the car and headed for the back.

"HEY! What do you think ...." Jake stuck the muzzle of the Skorpion in his face and took the gun from his waistband.

"Alright. Turn around and walk through Ma's front door. One bad move from you, Asswipe, and I will blow your brains all over Ma's ceilin'."

"Sure, Jake, sure. Just don't shoot, okay?"

"Shut up."

And they walked through the door, Jake holding a gun on the driver with one hand, and the Skorpion in the other.

Meanwhile, Sarah was just getting her Jeep stuck in the sand, Two Feathers was hiding behind a bush, and the Sheriff's men were just beginning to find pieces of Skinny scattered around Jake's trailer - or what was left of it.

It was the beginning of a very interesting day.

Our House, Now

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

This is the VERY slightly edited story from last Halloween. For your pleasure ....

Our House, Now
A Short Story by
Louis Charles Lohman

She was so happy with her new home. It was a corner house with an iron fence around two sides and a deep porch that ran around the front and side of the house. It was so homey and comfortable.

It was old, too. Very old. It was Victorian in outward appearance, with gingerbread touches and a tall spire on the corner of the third floor. The agent had said it was built right after the Civil War and then expanded in the late 1800's. The rooms were large and airy, very unusual for a house from that time, and the ceilings were tall and ornate, with molded plaster frills and filigree in all the downstairs rooms. There was a parlor in the front, and a formal dining room adjacent, a study and sewing room across the hall and a butler's pantry and kitchen at the rear of the main floor. Upstairs were the several bedrooms and on the third floor was the ballroom. A real ballroom. That, if nothing else, sold her on the house.

Over the years the house had been meticulously maintained, so there had never really been a need for restoration. It was magnificent. It had thick walls and it was quiet inside, the outside world and its noise and bluster was effectively shut out.

There was, however, one little, niggling problem.

There was a room in the house where she felt 'uncomfortable'. In fact, there was a spot in the room where she felt afraid, and if she stayed in that spot long enough, she would get the most searing headaches, that started with a tickle at the back of her neck and just exploded into the worst headaches she had ever had in her life. The formal dining room, then, became a room she avoided. Her husband experienced no such fear, and no such pain, but he said he thought it felt cold at that spot, in the middle of the room. Cold that gave him shivers, like a draft down the back of one's neck.

One day, not long after they'd moved in, she looked out the window to see a small old lady looking up at the house. Just standing there, outside the fence, looking at the house. She saw her again the next day, and the day after that. On the fourth day she saw her she decided to find out who this little old lady was. She walked outside, only to find the old lady was gone. And the next day, when she saw her again, the same thing happened. The old lady was nowhere to be seen.

"There is definitely something weird going on here", Jay said. "First you get headaches. And I feel a cold spot in the same place you get headaches. And now there's this little old lady you see, who keeps disappearing. Sally, I don't know what's going on here, but we have to find out. I have an idea. Why don't you put a plate of those cookies you made together and we'll go across the street to see Mrs. Morgan. I mean, she's lived in that house for a million years, right? If anybody around here is going to know any stories about this house, I'll bet it's her."

And so it was that Sally and Jay walked across the street to the home of Mrs. Philomena Morgan, the old lady who introduced herself on the day they moved in as being sixty years the widow of Phineas Morgan, banker and victim of a hit and run driver, all those many years ago. A lonely woman. Lonely and full of the business of her neighbors, as any woman with that much time on her hands would be.

"Hi, Mrs. Morgan, Sally and I have brought you some homemade cookies."

"Isn't that sweet of you? Come in, come in. Jay, isn't it? And you're Sally. My, aren't you a lovely girl. Is it alright if I call you Jay? Or shall I call you Mr. Booker?"

"No, no. Jay is fine."

"Well then, do come in and sit down. I'll get Jenny to get us something to drink. What would you like? Tea? Coffee? Milk, perhaps?"

"Oh, milk is fine for me, Mrs. Morgan. What about you, Sally?"
"Oh yes, milk for me as well, please?"

"Fine, fine. Jenny, bring us a pitcher of milk and some glasses, will you girl? Thank you. As for you two, please call me Mena, 'Mrs. Morgan' sounds so formal."

"Thank you, Mena."

"I suppose you're here about old Mrs Twilliger."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Twilliger. You've been seeing an old woman, standing by the fence, looking up at the house, right Sally?"

"Well, yes, I have. But how did you know?"

"Dearie, I've seen you come out of the house twice in the last two days, run to the fence and look over, both ways, up and down the street, with a very puzzled look on your face. I have seen that look before. And I suppose that you, Jay, found the cold spot and you, Sally, have found a spot in the old dining room that gives you headaches."

"How did you know?"

"I have lived my whole life here, within these four walls. I'm willing to bet I've seen 30 different families in that house. No one stays there more than a couple of years. And there have been long stretches of time where the house has sat empty. Anybody who has ever lived in that house has seen Mrs. Twilliger. Men feel the cold spot. Women get headaches. It's all very sad, really."

"What's 'very sad'? Sally and I would really like to know what's going on here. Can you please help us?"

"I can tell you what I know. What my Grandmother knew, actually. What Grandmother saw. And then told me all about as I was a little girl. I have known this story all my life. No one has ever asked me about it. All I have ever heard are complaints about headaches and coldspots and mysterious little old ladies, usually as people were moving away. Sometimes they just left the house in the middle of the night and never came back. But no one has ever asked. And I think the house has been waiting for someone to ask. More like Mr. Twilliger has been the one waiting, really, than the house."

"I don't think we understand that, Mena. What do you mean the house or, or .. or Mr. Twilliger has been waiting? Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for someone to care enough to ask, of course. Silly boy. Drink your milk, now, and I'll tell you all about it."

"Whatever you say ... this milk is delicious!!! Isn't it honey?"
"Yes, Jay, it is. God, I've never tasted milk this good."

"Oh, it's just pure milk, that's all. Right from the cow. Just pure milk. Anyway, Mr. Twilliger was a fireman and he lived in that house with his 4 year old daughter and his mother. Mr. Twilliger's wife had died giving birth to the girl and she was the apple of his eye. Mr. Twilliger was very handy, and was electrifying the house, over the strenuous objections of his mother, I might add. She was old fashioned and didn't trust the electric, at all. She was sure the house would burn to the ground. But he was so proud of the house and he wanted to be the first to be electrified. He stripped out all the old gas pipe and put in electric wire and plastered rooms and just did all kinds of work to modernize the house. The last major thing left to do was to hang the new electric chandelier in the dining room. Old Mrs. Twilliger had just left the house to go to evening mass, when the chandelier fell from the ceiling and killed that little girl. Mrs. Twilliger must have seen it fall and heard the girl scream, because she dropped dead right on the spot. Right outside the fence. Mr. Twilliger was so beside himself with grief. Grandmother said she had never seen a man so distraught. He worked for a month to finish the house, because he HAD to finish the house, don't you know, and then he hung himself from a light fixture in the ballroom."

"Why that's terrible. Such a sad story. Those poor people. That poor little girl. And that poor house. To be the site of so much tragedy. It's just so sad. So very sad. I'll tell you this, Jay and I aren't leaving. We are NOT leaving."

"Well, that's nice to hear, Dearie. You two are such a lovely couple. I'll be glad to see somebody finally love that house."

"But the house is in such good repair! Sally and I have often remarked about how well kept the house is. How can it have changed hands so many times ... been vacant for long periods of time, and still be in such good shape?"

"That would be Mr. Twilliger. He keeps the house up."

"Mr. Twilliger? How ...?"

"I think that's enough for tonight. You two had better run along home, now. I'm sure in good time all of your questions will be answered. But I have no more answers, now. So go to your home. It's waiting for you, you know. It's been waiting a long time, I think. Good night, now, good night."

And with that she closed the door behind them.

Sally and Jay crossed the street and walked up the stairs to their home.

"She sure got a bit spooky at the end there, didn't she?"

"Oh, Jay, I think she's charming. She's just a sweet little old lady who has been alone just a bit too long, that's all."

"Just the same. This whole thing is just a bit weird. I do love this house, though. I hope old Mr. Twilliger knows that."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. That is, of course, if he's really here. Say, you don't suppose he watches .. you know .. us?"

"No, somehow I don't think ghosts are voyeurs .. but that IS an interesting notion."

"Oh you!"

They walked down the hall and into the dining room.

"I can see where the chandelier hung - you see, there's little dimples in the plaster I never really noticed before. Say, you know what? I don't feel the cold spot .. I don't .. I really don't. It's gone."

"Really? You know, I don't feel like I did before, either. I'm not feeling, you know, uncomfortable."

"Come stand over here."

"No, I don't think so. Not yet anyway. I'll just stand over here by the windows, thank you. Jay LOOK! It's the old lady. And she's pointing across the ...JAY!! Call 911. Mrs. Morgan's house is on fire!!!"

Jay ran into the hall and called 911, then ran out the front door and stopped dead in his tracks. The whole house was completely engulfed in flames. There would be no way to save anyone in that house.

When the first fire truck pulled up and the firemen jumped off and started pulling hoses off the truck, Jay started yelling at the nearest fireman.

"There's two women living in that house!!! There's two women!!! Mrs. Morgan and Jenny are in there!!!"

"Are you drunk or somethin' fella? That house has been vacant for 20 years. We get small fires in there every once in a while. Kids, you know? Just kids. Looks like they did it this time, though. Did it good."

"I'm telling you, they're in there!!!"

"Look. There's nobody living in that house. I've been here on fire calls 4 times in the last two years. There's nobody in there. Now get back so you don't get hurt."

"We were there!! They were there!!! What's your name? I'm going to report you to your supervisor!!!"

"Twilliger. Fireman First Class Jason Twilliger. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a fire to fight. Go in the house, sir. Go take care of your house."

Suddenly, the roof of the house across the street fell down into the burning building, and blast of hot air, cinders, dirt and dust blew across the street forcing Jay to turn away, throwing his arm up across his face to protect his eyes.

Sally came running out onto the porch.

"Oh, JAY! That house is almost gone. What's taking the fire Department so LONG???"

"What are you talking about? They're right .... here ..."

He had turned to see that the firemen and their truck were gone. As if they had never been.

"Sally, go in the house and make sure all the water is turned off. I've got to get the hose out."

"You're not going to try to fight that fire with a garden hose, are you??"

"No, Sally, I'm not. I'm going to wet down the face of the house. I've got to take care of this house. This house. It's our house, now."

100 Word Challenge - Falter

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

What follows is in response to the persevering Velvet Verbosity's "100 Word Challenge". The word today is "Falter".

His gait was unsteady. He'd be okay for a while, walk well and upright for a short distance, but then he'd falter and he'd have to find something to keep him up - a wall, a fencepost, a tree.

He was drunk. Again. So many times he had promised to stop. So many times he had told her he wouldn't drink anymore. But each and every time, he would falter, he would break his promise, he would lose his stride toward sobriety.

He weaved his way up the walk. The house was silent and dark.

He knew that she was gone.

Ndinombethe.

p.s. Because I plan two days of Sarah for the weekend, I am going to reprint last Halloween's Ghost Story tomorrow. It may not be word for word - it may be an update, edit for polish version of the story. We'll see.

Wordless Wednesday - Reception

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

At The Reception

Foreground, Left to Right - Nephew, His New Bride, The Grandmother
Background, LM (Love Muffin)

She was, is, and always will be, well received in this family.

Ndinombethe.

Tuesday - and a meme

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

I've been tagged for a meme by Tuli of Defective Typewriter. It has to do with reading - something we all love to do, right? Reading, that is - not necessarily memes.

1.Most memorable place/experience reading a book?

I remember, when I was a boy of, perhaps, 6 or 7, I was given a large book called "Animals of the World". The animals depicted in the book were drawn, similar to the way Audubon drew his birds, and each drawing was accompanied by a page and a half or more of information about that animal.

It was not a 'sit down and read cover to cover' type of book. It was a 'pull it down from the shelf and discover an animal or two' kind of book. To this day I remember the feel and smell of that book.

2. Most unusual place/experience reading a book?

I was up in the attic reading a 1952 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica while we were at a friend's house helping to clean it out. Our friend had died. I was slacking in the attic and I got caught. This happened a year ago.

3. Most dangerous place/experience reading a book?

That would be reading "Catcher in the Rye" during a mortar attack while serving in Viet Nam.

4. Most luxurious place/experience reading a book?

On the deck of the Big Red Boat while cruising in the Bahamas - with pina colada in hand.

5. Funniest place/experience reading a book? Or, add a reading-place/experience description of your own...

I don't remember the last time a book made me laugh out loud - except that I recently read "The Big Over Easy" by Jasper Fforde. It made me laugh and laugh again. And everything I've read by him, since, has made me laugh. I LOVE Detective Inspector Jack Spratt and Detective Sergeant Mary Mary, his assistant. And in his other series of books, Thursday Next is a heroine par excellence.

I'm tagging anyone who wants to play along. Just copy and paste folks!

Bean Photo is collecting these reading experiences. If you decide to do this meme, please email him when you have published: mail@beanphoto.co.uk.

Ndinombethe.

Monday Meanders 10-26

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

I am so frustrated that my weekend 'take home' project, from the office, has proven to be difficult and intractable. I am going to be forced to call in help. And I hate that.

My one and constant outcry, when working with computer equipment is: I hate it when this stuff makes me feel stupid.

Fortunately, when working with computers, there's usually somebody in your sphere who knows the answer - you just have to find that person. My Grandpa said - "The smart man does NOT know all the answers ... he knows where to FIND them."

The rains keep coming and my lawn stays wet .. and it's getting longer. It's gonna hafta be soon ... that's all I can say.

There is at least one reader who doesn't know about my sign off. So I will retell it here. There was a time when I ended my posts with a wish for peace - and that was the last word in a post - "Peace." A friend of mine, from Trinidad, taught me the word, which is actually a whole proverb from Africa, Ndinombethe. It's pronounced "N-dee-nome-bay-tay" and it means "As I go, I am wearing you." My personal philosophy, out here, on this blog, is "It ain't about me, and it ain't about you, it's about us." Ndinombethe speaks to that so eloquently, I adopted it as my close, instead of the cliche and somewhat trite "Peace".

Each of us leaves little marks on the other - each of us is colored and flavored by our interactions with each other. We all 'wear' each other.

Ndinombethe.

Sarah - it's for you

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 05:48:00 +0000

From last time ...

Just as they walked into the store the phone rang and Billy walked over and picked it up.

"Hello, Bertrett's. Sure. Sarah? It's for you."

And now ...

"This is Sarah ... Oh, hi Jake ... Yeah, sure, I'll tell him about the stuff downstairs ... Okay, I'll meet you at Ma's - I'll be leaving here in about 5 minutes. See you later."

Sarah hung up the phone and pulled the rug back from the trapdoor in the floor.

"Jake has some more stuff downstairs that needs to get packed up with the rest of the stuff."

"So there IS a cellar down there. I knew it!! Every time I stepped on that rug I could tell there was something under it, but Jake never said anything and I figured it wasn't any of my business."

"Well, help me with this door, please? It's heavy."

"Yeah, sure ... okay .. you go first."

They went down into the cellar.

"Jake wants his workbench and the supplies over on that side packed up in the truck. All these crates of stuff over here, under this tarp, he wants you to take out in the desert and blow up. He said to make sure you wrap each crate with detonating cord so each crate is individually destroyed - he wants everything cut in half and all the ammo blown. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. Wow. He's got a LOT of shit down here. I'm gonna need a big truck."

"It's gotta be done today, Billy. Those guys are probably going to destroy this place when they see all their stuff is gone, so you gotta make sure you guys get this done before sundown. Okay?"

"Yeah. I'd better get on this right away. Let's go up - I gotta start callin' some guys."

Just as they got to the top of the stairs the phone rang again. Billy answered it.

"Hello, Bertrett's."

He listened for a 15 or 20 seconds and then said "Aishenda'ga."

"That was my cousin, Alfred Black Bear. He works in the Sheriff's station about 4 miles Southwest of here. He says they just arrested four white men on the road down there where Jake's mailbox is - exlposives charge. Thought I'd like to know."

"Jake will be glad to know that, I think. Listen, I gotta get going - but i have two questions I have to ask you before I leave."

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Where the hell did you come from when I had the Jeep stuck, and how did your cousin know you were here?"

"Hah! The whole tribe knows I'm here ... and as far as where I came from? I'm an Indian, lady - you NEVER see me comin'! But, to tell the truth, I saw you comin' a couple of miles out, so I hid. You got stuck, you were distracted - it was easy to sneak up on you."

"Do me a favor - don't tell Jake? I have my reasons."

"Sure, Sarah. No problem. And I won't even make you do that whole 'Blood Brother' thing, either."

"Thanks. I'll see you later."

Sarah left the shop and went around back and got into her Jeep. She thought about driving cross-coutry, just to get the feel of the 4 wheel drive, but disengaged the four wheel and took it out on the highway headed northeast, toward Ma's.

Billy Two Feathers stood in the doorway and watched her drive away. Not bad lookin' for a white woman. I bet she'd make a good Squaw. He went back into the shop and started making telephone calls.

Ndinombethe.

Sarah - A few minutes earlier

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

From Last time ...

"Just keep your mouth shut. Nobody says nuthin' to the cops 'cept me. Clear?"

"Yeah, Stafford. Loud and clear. Besides, we didn't know there was nuthin' there and the cops ain't got no reason to suspect otherwise. Right?"

"Yeah. That's right."

And now ...

She leaned against the front fender of the Jeep, frustrated that it was stuck in the sand within sight of the Gun Shop. She had slowed down as she breached the top of this little rise she was on and the Jeep just sunk into the sand - the more she tried to move it, the deeper the back wheels sunk into the loose, dry sand.

There was a semi headed up the highway, north and a bit east, toward the Diner, and Ma's. She could see she was just a couple hundred yards off the highway, and she was just about that far up from the Gun Shop - but the way things looked, she might as well be miles off from either.

"Can I help you?"

A tall young man appeared next to her as if from nowhere. Indian, by his dress, and by his look, as well. Dark skin and long, black straight hair with a headband and a feather.

"You just scared the shit out of me!! Where did you come from?"

"Over there." He pointed off toward the Gun Shop.

"Are you Two Feathers?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am. Just call me Billy. You must be Sarah. Oh, don't look like that. We have phones on the Reservation, too."

"Okay, fine. Jake wants you to get some guys and pack up the store. Today. Get everything out of there - pack it up in a truck and take it to the Reservation. But there's some stuff i gotta show you, first - so that you get it all - and my Jeep is stuck."

"Just put it in 4 wheel drive."

"Do WHAT?"

"Manuel put a new tranny in that thing not long after he got it. It has a high-low transfer case and selectable 4 wheel drive - that's what those extra levers on the floor are for."

"Show me."

Billy got in the jeep and showed her how to shift into and out of 4 wheel drive and how to use the high-low.

"Okay, let me do it. I gotta do it if I'm gonna drive this thing."

She threw it into 4 wheel and down into low. And the Jeep pulled right out of the sandy hole in which it had been stuck. She stopped and waited for Billy to hop in.

"See the old Chevy coming down the highway? That's Stafford's car. One of those crazy white men that Bertrett has hanging around his store. I wonder what he's doing out here this time of day. Those guys are almost always out here at night."

"There's trouble between Jake and some of those guys. That's why he's got to lay low for a while and that's why he wants to close up the shop, for now."

They pulled up behind the gun shop just a minute or so later. They walked around to the front of the shop. Billy had the keys out and was just going to open the door when they heard a sharp explosion that seemed to be fairly close by.

"Damn. What's going on? First Jake's trailer and now another explosion just down the road."

"You know it was Jake's trailer before?"

"Yeah. I hitched a ride up here and we were just going by Jake's mailbox when his trailer blew up. Pieces of that thing are STILL comin' down. I knew Jake wasn't there because I didn't see his car. Where is he? Up at the line shack? Maybe it's best I don't know. Let's get in - I gotta make some phone calls and you have to show me whatever it is you need to show me."

Just as they walked into the store the phone rang and Billy walked over and picked it up.

"Hello, Bertrett's. Sure. Sarah? It's for you."

Ndinombethe.

Friday Haiku - Nothing a parent can do

lou.lohman@gmail.com (LceeL) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +0000

Nothing a parent
can do but worry over
sick children. The flu.

Nothing a parent
can feel but relief over
children made better.

Nothing a parent
can say to those children but
"I'm glad you're better."

Children cannot know
What parents go through until
They become parents.

Ndinombethe.

P.s. #2 Son was ill with H1N1 recently. He's better now. But while he was down, I was reminded, again, how precious these gifts - these children - are. It doesn't diminish with time, either. In fact, the older one gets, the more one realizes that time has a limit and each minute, each hour, each day refines the essence of love for those to whom you have given life. All you young parents out there have your babies - they are so cute, and adorable, and you love them more than anything. What you don't know yet, is that the feeling never goes away. So, while you have your babies, I have my SONS.