New Book, Almost Live

Almost a year ago, after having lunch with my brother, I was making my way home and stopped at a red light. It was the same route I always took, crossing the south end of the city instead of facing rush hour traffic on the highway. The trip took me longer, but was less stressful.

There I was, sitting at the red light that day, when I looked to my left and saw a pair of bungalows with a shared drive. The roof of the farther house was covered in birds. It took me a few seconds to get the movie Birds out of my head before I realized they were pigeons. As I inched forward I looked up the driveway to the back yard, and saw the ramshackle building I assumed was the pigeon coop.

For years I have taken this same road home from lunch with my brother or my friend from the city, and never before have I noticed these pigeons. It was odd, and I like odd, and the unusual.

All the way home I thought about what I had seen, and how I could use it in a book. The NaNoWriMo Challenge (write a novel in 30 days) was coming up and I needed an idea for my book.

By the time I arrived home I had a vague concept. I decided the first murder victim was going to be an old man who raised pigeons, and that his body would be found in the pigeon coop. The birds on the roof would indicate something was amiss when a family member came by.

I did a lot of research, on raising, housing, and racing pigeons. The birds are banded for identification purposes and I read about how pigeons were used in the war to relay information. That gave me food for thought. What could criminals use the pigeons for? What could the birds carry? After all, they don’t have to pass any check-in to cross the border. It would have to be small, like diamonds, or many a very small Flash Drive. Jewels would be too valuable a loss if the birds didn’t make it back to their home base, so I concentrated on the Flash Drive.

I figured it had to be something that the sender wanted to be untraceable, and I decided it could be something like Child Pornography. I was back to doing research, and let me be very clear here, I researched police and FBI web sites that dealt with how these agencies were trying to stop this terrible offense. I did not actually view any sites.

In doing the research I decided I didn’t want to write that story, not the way it had formed in my head thus far, so I changed it a bit, and took out any reference to actual racing of the pigeons. I had my old man retired and tending to the birds left from his previously active racing team.

I met the criteria for 50,000 words by the end of November, and set the book aside until after Christmas. Sometimes, I think editing is harder than writing the book in the first place, and by the time I’ve gone over and over it, I was so happy to have a final copy. I sent it out to some friends and fellow writers and got some very valuable feedback.

Then it was back to editing again. And then it was formatting. I asked my brother to do a cover and he used some of his many photos to create a very moody cover that supported the title.

I have completed the upload to Amazon and am, right at this moment, waiting for the book to go live. They say it can take about 12 hours, but I’m so excited to see all that work come to completion, I just had to share.

Fly on the Wall

I bet you thought this would be about some gossip I heard, or overheard, given the ‘fly on the wall’ reference, but no, sorry to disappoint. This is about the one damn fly that got in my place and has persisted for 2 days to irritate and annoy. It has tried to show me, and proven, that I am inept with a fly swatter.

I don’t actually have a fly swatter, it’s never been a problem before. But the other day my son and his family were here and we left the door open. You know how it is, kids running in and out, conversations going on between those inside and those out. I’m lucky all I got was one lousy fly.

Last night it sat on my lamp, drawn to the light. I had my rolled up newspaper ready, and struck out again and again, at the lamp, the table, the wall, and missed every time. Finally I gave up, figured I had a room mate, and hoped his lifespan would be short.

I was writing this while waiting for my morning coffee to brew, and realized I hadn’t seen that pesty fly anywhere. No such luck, as I poured my first cup the fly joined me, hanging out on the cupboard doors, like he was my buddy or something.

Maybe I’ll get one of those sticky hanging things. You know the ones I mean, the sticky tape uncoils from a tube and you hang it in the open, to catch flies as they fly by, I guess. But I hate those things. They always have them hung by the hundreds in a room where somebody’s trying to hide a dead body. Hey, I watch Criminal Minds, I saw the movie Seven.

Instead, I think I’ll make a trip to the dollar store and buy myself a flyswatter. It’ll probably cost me, minimum $10. No way can I go to the dollar store and come out with only the one item I went shopping for. You never know what you might find, and at a dollar, it’s hard to resist.

Gum on my Shoe

You know how tight your jeans fit right out of the dryer? Then you must also know how, after a couple of wears, they are stretched and loose.

I had a pair of pants that were like that, a perfect fit, waist and leg length, that first day out of the dryer. After that they tended to ride a little lower, making the leg length a little longer. Long enough that I would catch the back hem under my heel.

So, there I was yesterday, my pants comfortably worn into relaxation mode, standing at the ATM machine.

Somehow, I picked up a wad of thrown away gum that attached itself to the hem of my pants. When I stood at the bank machine my ‘too-long’ pants caught under my heel.

The pressure of standing must have given the gum a chance to adhere to the floor and as I turned to walk away, my foot stayed planted on the floor. My body moved forward, but my leg and foot didn’t.

I was caught by surprise, as was the woman beside me waiting for the machine.

She had her wallet out, ready, and I grabbed for her to maintain my balance and avoid falling to the floor.

We had an anxious moment. I was afraid of ending up in a heap on the floor, and she was thinking I was a thief after her wallet. Come on, if I was really a thief I’d have waited until she made her withdrawal at the machine, but like I said, it was an anxious moment.

When I explained my foot was stuck, she gave me a steady hand as I pulled my foot free and discovered the gum on my pants. We laughed as it was comical, and we were both relieved our worse case scenario had not played out.

A word of advice, apply ice to the gum and scrape it off. It may take a couple of applications but it will come off cleaner than if you try and rub it off at room temperature. That’s my handy household tip of the day.

Gooey Bars

I was checking out the baking sites on Pinterest, because for once it’s cool enough to bake and not heat up the house to where I’m so hot I can’t breathe. In that regard it’s been a great summer so far.

After three years of sweltering hot summers, and after the brutal winter we endured, I think we were owed a season that is pleasurable. I’m speaking for my part of the world, because unfortunately I know the weather, with the floods and tornadoes has not been kind to others.

Back to the baking. I found a recipe that seemed to be similar to a date square…only without the dates and adding melted caramels. Sounds good right?

Anyway I made the base, out of flour, oatmeal and whatever, but didn’t have an 8x8 pan so I used the whole batch and spread it in my oblong pan. Oh, and I didn’t have caramels, but was going to substitute my peanut butter sauce, figured it was close. But by the time I got that all done, I didn’t feel like making the sauce. What to do, what to do.

I found a jar of jam and spread it all over the ‘hot-out-of-the-oven’ base. Now I needed the top layer. I had a mixture of flour, cinnamon, oats and butter, a topping left over from making muffins, and I sprinkled some of that over the jam.

Then I baked it some more. I gave samples to each of the kids, and it was a hit with my daughter’s family. I gave the sample to my son, when he was on his way to work, and he ate the whole thing through the course of his shift. I asked his wife how she liked the squares, and it’s no wonder she didn’t know what I was talking about.

Today I made brownies for my daughter’s birthday, to serve with ice cream and my peanut butter sauce. This is a favourite of hers. I have everything measured out and just need to finish the sauce. I took a break from writing this post for a moment to finish the sauce, it’s after seven in the evening and if I didn’t do it now it wouldn’t get made. So, I’m back and everything is ready for tomorrow.

Check out the original recipe.

http://www.averiecooks.com/2013/12/carmelitas.html

Roadside Chip Trucks

I had my first day trip of the summer last week when I drove with my daughter into cottage country to pick up my granddaughter at a friend’s trailer. The countryside was beautiful, the lakes a glistening blue. It was a nice day, going from one small village to the next, enjoying all the scenery in between.

I have a couple of rites of summer, and we enjoyed one that day as we made our way home. French fries from a roadside chip truck.

I don’t know what it is but French fries never taste better than when served hot and crisp in those brown paper bags. I like to spritz them with malt vinegar, and sprinkle them with Cajun salt. The first bite burns your mouth, but it doesn’t matter because the taste is sooooooo good.

My granddaughter had poutine, which I’ve never acquired a taste for, but she liked it. The young lad had a hotdog, while the rest of us had our plain old chips.

Remember that guide book I was going to write? The one telling all the hockey Moms where the best arena food could be found? Well, I should do a summer guide book on chip trucks, after taste testing of course. Just kidding.

Locally, the best chips used to be found out of town, where the county road that ran along the south shore of the lake, intercepted the township road leading from the highway into cottage country. It was a good location, and as he was only open on the weekend, he had a constant crowd with both locals and tourists. He’s moved now and I can’t remember his new location. The summers have been too hot the last few years for me to take any road trips.

Now that I’ve ticked off the first rite of summer, I think I’ll keep the second until a really hot day, and then it’s straight to Dairy Queen and a Skor Blizzard. Good thing I limit these food experiences to the beginning and end of summer, it wouldn’t do to over indulge.