This story is about the couple I wrote about last week who wrote letters to each other during the war. A little bit of time has gone by…
Gold
“Frederick? Have you seen my earrings? You know the ones you bought me when we first got married?” Ruth walked quickly into the bedroom, tears streaming down her face. She stood in front of her dresser and began pulling out drawers, sifting through the contents, frantically searching for her beloved earrings.
Frederick finished tying his dress shoes and looked up at his wife. “Honey…”
“Don’t ‘honey’ me. I know I left them in here somewhere. They were right here on the top of my dresser this morning. Now all of a sudden, they’re nowhere to be found. I really love those earrings. I don’t want to go to the church without them.” Worry etched her face as she moved onto the dirty clothes hamper and began throwing clothes left and right in search of the earrings.
Frederick stood behind her. “Honey?”
She blew a deep breath out as she tossed a dress shirt to the floor and looked back at him. “I already said, don’t honey me. You can either help me look for them or leave me alone. We’ve got to be at the church in less than half an hour. Our family is probably already there. Roger and my sister have flown in from Los Angeles for the occasion. Freddie, Tammy and the kids have decorated the church with the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to celebrate our Golden 50th Wedding Anniversary without wearing those earrings.” She stood in the midst of a pile of clothes on the floor and completely gave into tears.
Once more he said, “Honey?”
Ruth turned around to face him. He handed her the handkerchief that was in his suit pocket and she used it to dry her eyes. “You’ve said ‘Honey’ three times now. WHAT?”
He reached out to touch her cheek with his hand. “Honey, you’re already wearing them.”
Ruth closed her eyes and reached up to touch her ears. She slowly opened them. “I can’t believe I just spent the last half hour looking everywhere for them.”
He laughed and pulled her close. “I do.”
She looked up at him adoringly. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away while you still have the chance? You don’t have to marry me again you know.”
He kissed her lips and their foreheads touched. “There’s no one on earth I’d rather grow old with. I love you more than ever.”
She whispered. “Not as much as I love you.”
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Flash Fiction--War
November 22, 1943
Dear Ruth,
Well, I just left you at the train station. Since this may be the last letter I get the chance to write before a censor’s eye will see everything, let me tell you just how much the last two weeks have meant to me. If someone had told me that I’d meet a girl and fall in love before I left for war, I would have told them they were crazy but it’s true.
Please say you’ll send me a picture so that I can always see your face whenever you cross my mind, which I know will be often.
You need to know that no matter where I go or what I do as this train pulls me further and further away from you that you’ll go there with me in my heart. Write as often as you can. I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
December 1, 1943
Dear Frederick,
I miss you like crazy. Before I walked into that USO, and believe you me, I was dragged there kicking and screaming by my sister, I was a lost soul. By some miracle (that’s what I’m calling it), you came walking in that door and that began to change. It was like waking up from the longest and saddest dream to something beautiful.
I’m enclosing my picture just like you asked. I was wondering if you could do the same for me, not that I’m going to forget those eyes of yours any time soon.
I need to close as the postman is coming up the other side of the street now. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Ruth
December 23, 1943
My Dearest Ruth,
I got your letter today and let me tell you, it absolutely made my day. I can’t take my eyes off of your picture. I showed it to a couple of the guys. They wanted to know if you had any sisters. I told them you did but that she was already taken. They muttered some obscenities that I won’t share with you in this letter, and then said something about some guys having all the luck. I must say that I agree with them: I do have all the luck.
Well, I’m here. I’m not allowed to say where here is but just know that I’m safe for now. We’re doing some more training. It’s hard work but I’m more than willing to do it for my country.
I’ve got to close this letter for now. I miss you like crazy. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
January 20, 1944
My Dearest Frederick,
I can’t believe it’s been almost two months since I’ve last seen your face. Thank you for sending that picture by the way. I just lifted my fingers to my lips and touched your face. God how I wish you were here and I could do even more than that. (Yes, I know the censors will see that but I don’t actually care. I miss you too much!)
To keep me from absolutely losing my mind from worrying and thinking of you, I decided to take a job at the hospital. Besides answering phone calls and doing some light secretarial work, I get to help with some of the soldiers who have come home so badly injured that they won’t be able to go back. Whenever I change a bandage, I’m changing your bandage. Whenever they need a dose of medicine, I’m doing it for you and whenever one of them needs a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen to, I’m listening to you. You’re always on my mind.
Going to close for now as my shift starts in half an hour. I miss you. I’ll be seeing you. I love you.
Yours always,
Ruth
July 14, 1944
My Dearest Ruth,
I need you to sit down right now. Are you sitting yet? Just do it. Okay, now that you’re standing there with your hand on your hip and tapping your foot, (I know you are, don’t try to deny it), I’ll tell you where I am. I’m writing this letter from a hospital in France. I was shot in the leg about a week ago and am now recuperating and resting comfortably. They gave me the Purple Heart, which I have enclosed for your safe keeping. You already hold my own heart in your precious hands so I thought I’d give you this one as well.
The doctor said that there’s a chance I may be able to make a phone call home so I might be talking to you in a few days time. It will be wonderful to hear your voice. I miss you so much. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
July 17, 1944
My Dearest Frederick,
Do you know how wonderful a day I had today? First thing, I had the day off. That was all fine and good but it absolutely paled in comparison to hearing your precious voice on the phone today. Just those few moments we had meant more to me than anything else that’s happened since you left. To hear you say that you love me and not just read it in a letter was music to my ears.
Now that I’ve got the nice things out of the way, let me tell you something: Don’t you ever, ever get hurt again so badly that you need to go to the hospital! Do you hear me? I hope you do because if it happens again, I’m heading on over there to deal with you myself.
Okay, done scolding you for now. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Ruth
May 24, 1945
My Dearest Ruth,
Can you believe it? V - E Day has come and gone and this bloody war is over here in Europe. I can hardly wait to come home. They’re deciding with something called a points system. I’m pretty sure I’ll have enough to get me a ticket home a little bit sooner than some of the other guys. Just the thought of seeing you once more is keeping me going at the moment. I love you. I’ll be seeing you. (Really. I’ll really be seeing you soon. I can’t wait.)
Yours always,
Frederick
PS- I wrote the above earlier this afternoon and I just found out that I’m definitely on my way home. Look for me some time at the beginning of July. I’ll let you know for sure the exact date as the time grows closer. I love you!
PPS- Did you even realize that there was no post mark or stamp on this letter? Your sister told me you always read my letters sitting on the porch so I’m watching you from the sidewalk. Look up now. I know. I love you too.
Dear Ruth,
Well, I just left you at the train station. Since this may be the last letter I get the chance to write before a censor’s eye will see everything, let me tell you just how much the last two weeks have meant to me. If someone had told me that I’d meet a girl and fall in love before I left for war, I would have told them they were crazy but it’s true.
Please say you’ll send me a picture so that I can always see your face whenever you cross my mind, which I know will be often.
You need to know that no matter where I go or what I do as this train pulls me further and further away from you that you’ll go there with me in my heart. Write as often as you can. I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
December 1, 1943
Dear Frederick,
I miss you like crazy. Before I walked into that USO, and believe you me, I was dragged there kicking and screaming by my sister, I was a lost soul. By some miracle (that’s what I’m calling it), you came walking in that door and that began to change. It was like waking up from the longest and saddest dream to something beautiful.
I’m enclosing my picture just like you asked. I was wondering if you could do the same for me, not that I’m going to forget those eyes of yours any time soon.
I need to close as the postman is coming up the other side of the street now. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Ruth
December 23, 1943
My Dearest Ruth,
I got your letter today and let me tell you, it absolutely made my day. I can’t take my eyes off of your picture. I showed it to a couple of the guys. They wanted to know if you had any sisters. I told them you did but that she was already taken. They muttered some obscenities that I won’t share with you in this letter, and then said something about some guys having all the luck. I must say that I agree with them: I do have all the luck.
Well, I’m here. I’m not allowed to say where here is but just know that I’m safe for now. We’re doing some more training. It’s hard work but I’m more than willing to do it for my country.
I’ve got to close this letter for now. I miss you like crazy. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
January 20, 1944
My Dearest Frederick,
I can’t believe it’s been almost two months since I’ve last seen your face. Thank you for sending that picture by the way. I just lifted my fingers to my lips and touched your face. God how I wish you were here and I could do even more than that. (Yes, I know the censors will see that but I don’t actually care. I miss you too much!)
To keep me from absolutely losing my mind from worrying and thinking of you, I decided to take a job at the hospital. Besides answering phone calls and doing some light secretarial work, I get to help with some of the soldiers who have come home so badly injured that they won’t be able to go back. Whenever I change a bandage, I’m changing your bandage. Whenever they need a dose of medicine, I’m doing it for you and whenever one of them needs a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen to, I’m listening to you. You’re always on my mind.
Going to close for now as my shift starts in half an hour. I miss you. I’ll be seeing you. I love you.
Yours always,
Ruth
July 14, 1944
My Dearest Ruth,
I need you to sit down right now. Are you sitting yet? Just do it. Okay, now that you’re standing there with your hand on your hip and tapping your foot, (I know you are, don’t try to deny it), I’ll tell you where I am. I’m writing this letter from a hospital in France. I was shot in the leg about a week ago and am now recuperating and resting comfortably. They gave me the Purple Heart, which I have enclosed for your safe keeping. You already hold my own heart in your precious hands so I thought I’d give you this one as well.
The doctor said that there’s a chance I may be able to make a phone call home so I might be talking to you in a few days time. It will be wonderful to hear your voice. I miss you so much. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Frederick
July 17, 1944
My Dearest Frederick,
Do you know how wonderful a day I had today? First thing, I had the day off. That was all fine and good but it absolutely paled in comparison to hearing your precious voice on the phone today. Just those few moments we had meant more to me than anything else that’s happened since you left. To hear you say that you love me and not just read it in a letter was music to my ears.
Now that I’ve got the nice things out of the way, let me tell you something: Don’t you ever, ever get hurt again so badly that you need to go to the hospital! Do you hear me? I hope you do because if it happens again, I’m heading on over there to deal with you myself.
Okay, done scolding you for now. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
Yours always,
Ruth
May 24, 1945
My Dearest Ruth,
Can you believe it? V - E Day has come and gone and this bloody war is over here in Europe. I can hardly wait to come home. They’re deciding with something called a points system. I’m pretty sure I’ll have enough to get me a ticket home a little bit sooner than some of the other guys. Just the thought of seeing you once more is keeping me going at the moment. I love you. I’ll be seeing you. (Really. I’ll really be seeing you soon. I can’t wait.)
Yours always,
Frederick
PS- I wrote the above earlier this afternoon and I just found out that I’m definitely on my way home. Look for me some time at the beginning of July. I’ll let you know for sure the exact date as the time grows closer. I love you!
PPS- Did you even realize that there was no post mark or stamp on this letter? Your sister told me you always read my letters sitting on the porch so I’m watching you from the sidewalk. Look up now. I know. I love you too.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Flash Fiction-- Artifacts
Here is the Flash Fiction entry for this weeik. Had a bunch of fun with it. I think you'll be able to see that I was a child of the 80's here!!
Artifacts
“Holy cow, would you look at this mess!” Cassie took the final stair before stepping into the attic. She brushed aside a few cobwebs that were in her way before looking back to Joel who was following close behind her.
“Well,” Joel said, reaching to pull the string that hung from the light bulb above his head, “We promised your dad that we’d get to this mess today.”
Cassie sighed as she took a seat in the old rocker that stood in the corner. “I know. It’s taken Dad a long time to decide to move out of this house. He lived here with Mom for 40 years and now with Mom gone as well as all of us kids, well, I’m just glad we were able to finally talk him into getting another place.”
Joel pushed aside a few boxes, making a pathway from the top of the stairs to the window. He pulled back the curtains, dust flying everywhere but instantly illuminating the attic and making things much easier to see. “Your parents really lived here for 40 years? But you’re only 21 years old.”
Cassie laughed and pulled a box closer to where she sat. “Mom and Dad always liked to joke that I was their little ‘oops’ baby, born almost 16 years after my older brothers. I’ll tell you more about my fabled family history a little bit later. Let’s get to this mess first.” She looked at the label on the box in front of her. “This one says ‘the boys’ toys.’ They must belong to my brothers. I wonder what’s inside.” She pulled out a doll that was carefully stored in its original box. “Stretch Armstrong? I wonder what it does.” She pulled it out of the box almost dropping it but grabbing hold of the arm at the last second. “Joel? Look at this? This doll’s arms stretch. It’s totally cool!” Her mouth was wide open with fascination as she pulled the arms and legs of the doll and watched them easily stretch back into shape.
Joel didn’t answer but instead was pulling something out of another box. “Will you look at this? My dad told me about these. It’s called a record player. Awesome! It has all of these records to play on them but they’re small with kind of a big circle in the middle.” He picked up another record. “Oh, I get it. You pop one of these little plastic circle things in the inside to make it fit on the record player.”
Cassie walked over to where he was standing to check out the record player. “It has a cord and there’s an outlet. Let’s plug it in and see if it still works.” They plugged it in and saw a light come on. She began to flip through some of the records. “Joel? Listen to some of the names of these groups: Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Tommie Tutone, Mr. Mister, Huey Lewis and the News… Geez, I’ve never even heard of any of these.”
Joel had one in his hand and held it up. “We’re listening to this one first; it sounds like a gem: ‘She Blinded Me With Science.’ Geez, what in the world were they smoking back then anyway?”
He put on the first of many records they listened to as they began to go through all of the boxes, the contents of which never ceased to amaze them both. After a few hours they were no closer to organizing the attic than when they first started. Cassie shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe all of these artifacts! I mean look: a telephone where you have to stick your finger in it to spin around and make it work, a Cabbage Patch Kid, a forgotten can of something called ‘Aqua Net.’ I think it was hairspray, I’m not sure though. There’s enough old stuff here to start a museum or something. I can’t decide which one of them is my favorite.”
Joel motioned for her to come and sit next to him. He put his arm around her and pulled out a photo album. “I think I know which one of these ‘artifacts’ is going to be your favorite already.” There before her on the pages of the album was the story of her life. There was one where she was a toddler and her older brothers were taking turns pushing her on the swings in the back yard. There was another one of the family all squeezed into the porch swing on the front porch. There was still another one of them on Christmas morning with everyone still in their pajamas, wrapping paper strewn everywhere and not a face that lacked a smile.
A lone tear rolled down her cheek after she was done looking at the last page. She closed it and put it back in the box sitting next to her. She stood up and looked around the attic. She then walked back in the direction of the stairs. Joel looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “And just where would you be going?”
She sniffed and smiled at him through her tears. “I’ve got to find Dad. There’s no way I’m going to let him give up this house. Too many artifacts and way too many memories.”
Artifacts
“Holy cow, would you look at this mess!” Cassie took the final stair before stepping into the attic. She brushed aside a few cobwebs that were in her way before looking back to Joel who was following close behind her.
“Well,” Joel said, reaching to pull the string that hung from the light bulb above his head, “We promised your dad that we’d get to this mess today.”
Cassie sighed as she took a seat in the old rocker that stood in the corner. “I know. It’s taken Dad a long time to decide to move out of this house. He lived here with Mom for 40 years and now with Mom gone as well as all of us kids, well, I’m just glad we were able to finally talk him into getting another place.”
Joel pushed aside a few boxes, making a pathway from the top of the stairs to the window. He pulled back the curtains, dust flying everywhere but instantly illuminating the attic and making things much easier to see. “Your parents really lived here for 40 years? But you’re only 21 years old.”
Cassie laughed and pulled a box closer to where she sat. “Mom and Dad always liked to joke that I was their little ‘oops’ baby, born almost 16 years after my older brothers. I’ll tell you more about my fabled family history a little bit later. Let’s get to this mess first.” She looked at the label on the box in front of her. “This one says ‘the boys’ toys.’ They must belong to my brothers. I wonder what’s inside.” She pulled out a doll that was carefully stored in its original box. “Stretch Armstrong? I wonder what it does.” She pulled it out of the box almost dropping it but grabbing hold of the arm at the last second. “Joel? Look at this? This doll’s arms stretch. It’s totally cool!” Her mouth was wide open with fascination as she pulled the arms and legs of the doll and watched them easily stretch back into shape.
Joel didn’t answer but instead was pulling something out of another box. “Will you look at this? My dad told me about these. It’s called a record player. Awesome! It has all of these records to play on them but they’re small with kind of a big circle in the middle.” He picked up another record. “Oh, I get it. You pop one of these little plastic circle things in the inside to make it fit on the record player.”
Cassie walked over to where he was standing to check out the record player. “It has a cord and there’s an outlet. Let’s plug it in and see if it still works.” They plugged it in and saw a light come on. She began to flip through some of the records. “Joel? Listen to some of the names of these groups: Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Tommie Tutone, Mr. Mister, Huey Lewis and the News… Geez, I’ve never even heard of any of these.”
Joel had one in his hand and held it up. “We’re listening to this one first; it sounds like a gem: ‘She Blinded Me With Science.’ Geez, what in the world were they smoking back then anyway?”
He put on the first of many records they listened to as they began to go through all of the boxes, the contents of which never ceased to amaze them both. After a few hours they were no closer to organizing the attic than when they first started. Cassie shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe all of these artifacts! I mean look: a telephone where you have to stick your finger in it to spin around and make it work, a Cabbage Patch Kid, a forgotten can of something called ‘Aqua Net.’ I think it was hairspray, I’m not sure though. There’s enough old stuff here to start a museum or something. I can’t decide which one of them is my favorite.”
Joel motioned for her to come and sit next to him. He put his arm around her and pulled out a photo album. “I think I know which one of these ‘artifacts’ is going to be your favorite already.” There before her on the pages of the album was the story of her life. There was one where she was a toddler and her older brothers were taking turns pushing her on the swings in the back yard. There was another one of the family all squeezed into the porch swing on the front porch. There was still another one of them on Christmas morning with everyone still in their pajamas, wrapping paper strewn everywhere and not a face that lacked a smile.
A lone tear rolled down her cheek after she was done looking at the last page. She closed it and put it back in the box sitting next to her. She stood up and looked around the attic. She then walked back in the direction of the stairs. Joel looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “And just where would you be going?”
She sniffed and smiled at him through her tears. “I’ve got to find Dad. There’s no way I’m going to let him give up this house. Too many artifacts and way too many memories.”
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Getting Back In Teacher Mode
Okay, so my first required day back isn't until next week but our principal said we could go in this week if we wanted to. Besides writing, I've been pretty much bored out of my mind so I decided to go in yesterday and today because after being in the same room for six years, I am moving rooms and changing grade levels. (I will be teaching first grade instead of second grade. Help me!)
Now, I'm sittting in a chair in my living room. My arms are sore from lifting. My legs are so achy that I think I might never walk again. My mind is racing because I'm trying to figure out just where everything should go in the room. I've already texted my husband and have asked him to pick up something for us to eat because if I have to get up and cook something, I might just die. (I'm not being melodramatic. I'm totally serious.)
It's official. The insanity has already set in and I'm definitely in teacher mode.
I wonder though: just how long will it take me to get back to "I wish I were a full time writer" mode?
Now, I'm sittting in a chair in my living room. My arms are sore from lifting. My legs are so achy that I think I might never walk again. My mind is racing because I'm trying to figure out just where everything should go in the room. I've already texted my husband and have asked him to pick up something for us to eat because if I have to get up and cook something, I might just die. (I'm not being melodramatic. I'm totally serious.)
It's official. The insanity has already set in and I'm definitely in teacher mode.
I wonder though: just how long will it take me to get back to "I wish I were a full time writer" mode?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Flash Fiction-- The Wheel
This is my flash fiction entry from last night. I had a really hard time coming up with something so I went with two characters I know very well for support. Thanks Ben and Louisa!!
The Wheel
Louisa opened the car door and sat down. Her breathing became shallow and her mind absolutely raced. She looked over at the passenger seat as soon as he sat down. “Ben? I don’t think that I can do this?”
“Nonsense. Of course you can.”
She let out a deep sigh. “But that’s the thing, I can’t. I could never drive back home in London but now that I’m in the States, it’s going to be twice as bad. The wheel isn’t even on the right side of the car, it’s on the left.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “You’re worrying about it before we even start. We’ll just take it one step at a time, alright? You’re going to be just fine.”
She nodded, placing both hands on the wheel. “Okay. One step at a time. What do I do first?”
“First thing is to put the keys in the ignition.”
Something easy. Good. She took the keys and went to insert them into the steering wheel but kept jamming it into the side. “Where in the world is the ignition, anyway? It’s supposed to be here.”
Ben shook his head. “No sweetie, it’s there on the dash next to the radio.”
She turned a deep shade of red as she put the key in the ignition and turned on the car. This is not going to be pretty. I couldn’t even find the right place to put the key. I should run back inside right now. “Okay. Got that. Finally. Now what?”
“Louisa, I should have told you this before you even started the car but you should probably put your seatbelt on before we do anything else.”
Louisa pulled down the seatbelt but somehow got it twisted. She reached to put the buckle in the lock but somehow lost hold of it and it snapped back, hitting her on the cheek. “Ouch!” Her hand flew instantly to her face.
Ben reached across to move her hand. “Honey? Let me see if it left a mark?” He looked at it carefully, his head tilted to one side. “It’s just a little red, nothing that’s going to leave a mark. You going to be okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I might kill myself if I do anything else in this car.”
Ben pulled the seatbelt down for her and fastened it securely in the lock. “Okay. The car is on and you’ve got your seatbelt fastened; now, check your rearview mirror. Okay good. Put it in reverse and slowly back up.” Louisa began to back up but not before the car began to go off of the driveway and into the grass. Ben ran his fingers through his hair as he looked over at her once more. “Honey, you’re going crooked. Step on the break, pull forward and try again. Okay?”
Louisa’s shoulders slumped . “Sure,” she answered him, only she stepped on the gas pedal instead of the break, sending the car slamming into a tree just off the side of the driveway.
As the car came to a stop, Louisa looked over at her brand new husband: his eyes were closed and he was holding on tightly to the door handle. He slowly opened one eye and looked at her. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she turned away, ashamed to look him directly in the eye. She put her head down and rested it on the wheel. After a moment, she felt his arm wrap around her. “Are you alright, sweetie? We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”
She looked up at him and smiled through her tears before turning her attention back to the wheel and giving it a slight shove with her fists. “Stupid wheel on the wrong side of the car. It’s all your fault.”
Ben began to shake with laughter. “Sure honey, the wheel was the problem.”
Louisa looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. “You know there might be consequences for disagreeing with your wife on this one. It could be lonely on the couch.”
In a mock serious tone, Ben pounded the steering wheel himself. “Stupid wheel on the wrong side of the car.”
The Wheel
Louisa opened the car door and sat down. Her breathing became shallow and her mind absolutely raced. She looked over at the passenger seat as soon as he sat down. “Ben? I don’t think that I can do this?”
“Nonsense. Of course you can.”
She let out a deep sigh. “But that’s the thing, I can’t. I could never drive back home in London but now that I’m in the States, it’s going to be twice as bad. The wheel isn’t even on the right side of the car, it’s on the left.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “You’re worrying about it before we even start. We’ll just take it one step at a time, alright? You’re going to be just fine.”
She nodded, placing both hands on the wheel. “Okay. One step at a time. What do I do first?”
“First thing is to put the keys in the ignition.”
Something easy. Good. She took the keys and went to insert them into the steering wheel but kept jamming it into the side. “Where in the world is the ignition, anyway? It’s supposed to be here.”
Ben shook his head. “No sweetie, it’s there on the dash next to the radio.”
She turned a deep shade of red as she put the key in the ignition and turned on the car. This is not going to be pretty. I couldn’t even find the right place to put the key. I should run back inside right now. “Okay. Got that. Finally. Now what?”
“Louisa, I should have told you this before you even started the car but you should probably put your seatbelt on before we do anything else.”
Louisa pulled down the seatbelt but somehow got it twisted. She reached to put the buckle in the lock but somehow lost hold of it and it snapped back, hitting her on the cheek. “Ouch!” Her hand flew instantly to her face.
Ben reached across to move her hand. “Honey? Let me see if it left a mark?” He looked at it carefully, his head tilted to one side. “It’s just a little red, nothing that’s going to leave a mark. You going to be okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I might kill myself if I do anything else in this car.”
Ben pulled the seatbelt down for her and fastened it securely in the lock. “Okay. The car is on and you’ve got your seatbelt fastened; now, check your rearview mirror. Okay good. Put it in reverse and slowly back up.” Louisa began to back up but not before the car began to go off of the driveway and into the grass. Ben ran his fingers through his hair as he looked over at her once more. “Honey, you’re going crooked. Step on the break, pull forward and try again. Okay?”
Louisa’s shoulders slumped . “Sure,” she answered him, only she stepped on the gas pedal instead of the break, sending the car slamming into a tree just off the side of the driveway.
As the car came to a stop, Louisa looked over at her brand new husband: his eyes were closed and he was holding on tightly to the door handle. He slowly opened one eye and looked at her. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she turned away, ashamed to look him directly in the eye. She put her head down and rested it on the wheel. After a moment, she felt his arm wrap around her. “Are you alright, sweetie? We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”
She looked up at him and smiled through her tears before turning her attention back to the wheel and giving it a slight shove with her fists. “Stupid wheel on the wrong side of the car. It’s all your fault.”
Ben began to shake with laughter. “Sure honey, the wheel was the problem.”
Louisa looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. “You know there might be consequences for disagreeing with your wife on this one. It could be lonely on the couch.”
In a mock serious tone, Ben pounded the steering wheel himself. “Stupid wheel on the wrong side of the car.”
Saturday, July 10, 2010
On Quitting Smoking
So, today marks the three week mark of my battle with quitting smoking. Now that things are going a little easier, I have a few observations/musings/general quips about the whole process:
1. When I first quit, it seemed like I had cravings constantly. My sister in law said, "Don't worry. It will only last for 30 seconds before it passes." To my sister in law, I affectionately say, "Bullocks!" It doesn't pass in 30 seconds. It doesn't pass in 5 minutes. It's simply torturous!!
2. I bought some Nicorette gum to help me deal with said cravings. The directions on the box say to use 8 to 9 pieces a day. I decided to ignore this advice and just take a piece when I felt like I needed it. If I had followed their advice, I would have had to spend a whole lot of money on the gum while remaining addicted to the nicotine. I'm still on my original box that I paid $50 for. I only have a bad enough craving once or twice a day and have plenty of gum left.
3. My sense of smell has definitely improved. I smell cigarette smoke everywhere and it almost makes me throw up. However, if anyone reading this blog ever catches me being one of those annoying ex-smokers who complains about the smoke, you have permission to lay me out with an open handed smack in the mouth. I HATE those people.
4. My husband is still smoking. It made it twice as hard to quit being around him but I did it. I will mention that I wanted to kiss him a lot on that first day so I could have a cigarette by proxy.
5. I don't ever want to start again. I can take a deep breath and not feel like I'm going to collapse because I can't breathe.
6. If I can do it, anyone can do it!!
7. The only thing that triggers a craving now is stress so if you're around me, don't do anything to tick me off!!
1. When I first quit, it seemed like I had cravings constantly. My sister in law said, "Don't worry. It will only last for 30 seconds before it passes." To my sister in law, I affectionately say, "Bullocks!" It doesn't pass in 30 seconds. It doesn't pass in 5 minutes. It's simply torturous!!
2. I bought some Nicorette gum to help me deal with said cravings. The directions on the box say to use 8 to 9 pieces a day. I decided to ignore this advice and just take a piece when I felt like I needed it. If I had followed their advice, I would have had to spend a whole lot of money on the gum while remaining addicted to the nicotine. I'm still on my original box that I paid $50 for. I only have a bad enough craving once or twice a day and have plenty of gum left.
3. My sense of smell has definitely improved. I smell cigarette smoke everywhere and it almost makes me throw up. However, if anyone reading this blog ever catches me being one of those annoying ex-smokers who complains about the smoke, you have permission to lay me out with an open handed smack in the mouth. I HATE those people.
4. My husband is still smoking. It made it twice as hard to quit being around him but I did it. I will mention that I wanted to kiss him a lot on that first day so I could have a cigarette by proxy.
5. I don't ever want to start again. I can take a deep breath and not feel like I'm going to collapse because I can't breathe.
6. If I can do it, anyone can do it!!
7. The only thing that triggers a craving now is stress so if you're around me, don't do anything to tick me off!!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Persuasion
I started writing for my own enjoyment in November of 2009. The story I'm currently working on is that same first story, a modern retelling of the classic Jane Austen novel, Persuasion. I always had the idea in my head that I would like to retell one of my favorite author's stories in a modern setting but I wasn't sure how it could be done.
Well, in October of last year, I went to a NASCAR race in Martinsville, Virginia. I had a pretty good view of the pit stalls from our seats. I remember watching one crew member sweeping out the stall with a push broom and I thought, "You know, he must be the low man on the totem pole. Then it hit me. He would be just like Captain Wentworth but before he became Captain Wentworth and made his fortune that is. My hero was born and he was going to be a racecar driver. Once I had him,, the other characters just fell into place: Anne would be the daughter of a race team owner, Benwick/Harville could be his crew chief and best freind and so on. The story came together faster than I knew what to do with it.
I started writing and the rough draft was done in only two months. I thought, "Hey, I actually finished a book. I should see if I can publish this." Well, I started to learn more about writing and let it rest a few weeks. When I picked it back up, I saw a million things I could have done better. Well, I've since repeated that cycle a few times and am on my third revision right now. Every time I pick it back up after letting it sit, I see things that can be better.
I love writing but I guess I'm done taking a "break" this morning from working on it for now. I'm on chapter 22 of 29 right now. I put a deadline of finishing the round of revisions before I have to go back to school. Wish me luck!!!
Well, in October of last year, I went to a NASCAR race in Martinsville, Virginia. I had a pretty good view of the pit stalls from our seats. I remember watching one crew member sweeping out the stall with a push broom and I thought, "You know, he must be the low man on the totem pole. Then it hit me. He would be just like Captain Wentworth but before he became Captain Wentworth and made his fortune that is. My hero was born and he was going to be a racecar driver. Once I had him,, the other characters just fell into place: Anne would be the daughter of a race team owner, Benwick/Harville could be his crew chief and best freind and so on. The story came together faster than I knew what to do with it.
I started writing and the rough draft was done in only two months. I thought, "Hey, I actually finished a book. I should see if I can publish this." Well, I started to learn more about writing and let it rest a few weeks. When I picked it back up, I saw a million things I could have done better. Well, I've since repeated that cycle a few times and am on my third revision right now. Every time I pick it back up after letting it sit, I see things that can be better.
I love writing but I guess I'm done taking a "break" this morning from working on it for now. I'm on chapter 22 of 29 right now. I put a deadline of finishing the round of revisions before I have to go back to school. Wish me luck!!!
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