Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Delightful! Rest Thy Head by Elaine Cantrell - A beautiful love story...

Peyton hurried away, giving thanks for a few seconds of privacy. This was the first moment she’d had alone the entire day. As she rinsed and dried her hands, she heard someone coming into the restroom. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, so she scurried into the last stall in the bathroom, the handicapped one. It had enough room for her and her dress. 
When the bathroom door opened, she recognized her future sister-in-law’s voice. Roberta was talking to her cousin, Miranda Willis. “I still don’t get it,” Miranda complained. “Why do your parents like Peyton so much? Her family is nothing but poor white trash. That sister of hers has a baby but no husband, and her mother is an awful social climber.” 
Roberta sighed. “I know, but Mother and Daddy like Peyton because when Drew’s with her he behaves better. He’s always acted buck wild, and the older he gets the worse he is.”
Watching through the crack in the stall, Peyton saw Miranda apply fresh lipstick. “I don’t know that he behaves so much better with Peyton around. What about Megan Thomas?” 
“Oh, you should have heard Daddy.” Roberta giggled. “He told Drew if he didn’t make up with Peyton he’d disinherit him.”
“Yes. To get Daddy’s money, Drew’s been sucking up to Peyton for weeks now.” Miranda ran a comb through her fine, blonde hair. “Maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”
“I don’t think so. Before Daddy threatened him, he said Megan was a lot more fun than Peyton, and he was glad he didn’t have to marry her.” 
Miranda looked shocked. “I had no idea.” 
“We’d better hurry. The ceremony’ll be starting soon. Let me borrow your lipstick.” 
Peyton gave them plenty of time to get away before she came out of the stall. So Drew had more fun with Megan, did he? Adrenaline racing through her veins, she ran back to Ashley who waited in the brides’ room. As she burst into the room, Ashley jumped to her feet, a frightened look on her face. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“I’m not marrying Drew!” Peyton ripped off her veil and kicked off her expensive designer heels. “Unbutton me. Hurry!” She felt Ashley’s fingers fumbling at the buttons on the back of the dress. “Rip ‘em off if you have to, Ash.” 
“I’ve got the last one.” Peyton shimmied out of her dress and stomped it for spite, taking satisfaction when a nearby chair pricked the heavy fabric. “I’m getting out of here, but don’t tell anyone.”
She grabbed her dress, veil, and shoes and stuffed them behind a folding screen that stood in the corner. “You tell Mother you went to the bathroom, and when you came back out, I was gone. Wait as long as you can. I want the whole church to know I stood him up.” 
“But why? Why now? What happened?” 
Peyton jerked her tee shirt over her head which slightly muffled her voice and caused her expensive hair style to tumble around her shoulders. “I’ll explain later. I’m leaving town right now. I’ll call you tonight to tell you where I am.”

Rest Thy Head

By Elaine Cantrell

Isn't the title, Rest Thy Head, simply wonderful? And I love the complementary cover that shows a place where, if you were trying to escape, then this would be just the place, don't you think?

...My husband and I stayed there on our wedding
 night. The rooms are fabulous! They’re filled 
with antiques, and every one of them has a fireplace. 
The food’s good too. For breakfast they even
 served us homemade biscuits. 
I’ll never forget how good they were...”
She rounded one more curve and saw Rest Thy
Head for the first time. Oh my! This place 
absolutely took her breath away. 
Even in the dark she could see the picture in the 
brochure hadn’t done it justice. 
Rest Thy Head looked like a calendar 
picture come to life.

Peyton might not be the first bride to leave her intended at the altar. But, for me, it was he and his family that certainly deserved to be humiliated! Even her mother was being selfish--she wanted Peyton to marry into the wealthy family just so it would increase her status in society and allow Peyton to help her financially, especially when she was older... Not a way to be happy going into the, supposedly, best day of the rest of your life...

She was heading for... freedom and wherever it might take her. Jumping in her car, she headed out until she needed gas and food. And while there, she discovered a brochure for Rest Thy Head. The picture was beautiful and she remembered her own dream to own and operate an Inn...just like this one!

She took off after her kind waitress had given such a great recommendation room!

It is expected that those who run an Inn will be cordial and welcoming. Indeed the Innkeeper that welcomed Peyton was perfect...

But two brothers ran the Inn and the second brother was...not so nice...

But Peyton loved the placed so much that when she was able to stay on and work, she gladly accepted...And even, later, when she saw another vacancy open, she called Ashley and she and her son came to stay as well.

Cantrell's placement of the lead male character as a veteran with several burns on his body was thought-provoking. Before he had been in the service, he was a handsome man with many friends. The Inn had been a family place but after their parents died, and Jake was injured, he had returned, with no other place to go--and not a place to work, given his appearance. Jake now did the cooking and baking...and Peyton was placed under his supervision.

Some may think that the story tells itself...and the burn victim gets the girl. No surprise in this book. However, it is all of the characters, including the staff and neighbors who are able to come together in an amazing survival story that takes nothing else other than love and acceptance...and friendship to someone in need...

Take a break and enjoy this lovely tale of two people...make that four people...who come to love each other and find a permanent place at Rest Thy Head! A family-oriented drama that speaks to what may and does happen with the return of military service veterans in America... Highly recommended.


Born and raised in South Carolina, I hold a master's degree in personnel services from Clemson University and am a member of Romance Writers of America, EPIC authors, and Alpha Delta Kappa, an international honorary society for women educators. I've been married for thirty five years to my college sweetheart. We have two sons-a physicist and a fraud investigator. They've given us three wonderful grandchildren-one girl and two boys. We also have two mean cats and one sweet, brown dog.

I've been writing since 2001 when my son asked me to proofread a book he'd written. I figured if he could, so could I. My first published novel, A New Leaf, was the winner of the 2003 Timeless Love contest. If I wasn't sold on writing before, that did it. I've been writing ever since and don't have any plans to stop. Frankly, I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Writing is a strange compulsion that drives me to spend long hours in front of a keyboard when I could be doing important things like napping or eating chocolate. My house isn't dusted as often, I rarely cook, and who cares if the laundry got done or not. Yeah, no doubt about it, I'm addicted.

When I'm not writing or teaching I enjoy gardening, quilting, and trying new restaurants with my friends. You can learn more about me at my web site and at I also have a blog at

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Presenting A Shattered Lens by Layton Green!

The camera felt so right in her hands. So natural. The sheer heft of it made her feel important, as if she were already more visible in the world. Everybody everywhere needed something to help them belong, Annie knew. For some it was obvius: money, drugs, guns, sex, power. For others, it could be something as simple as a pet, or a child, or a single friend.
Something no one else could claim.
Something to make you feel alive and special.
What Annalise Stephens Blue wanted, what she had craved since she had first seen ET...sitting on her daddy's lap before he left home, was a camera. Not just any old transmitter of encoded images, but a real  camera...
Night Lives.
That would be the name of her first film, an expose on the nocturnal activities of the people who lived just across the forest from her but who thought they were so much better. Not just the parents, but the kids. The popular ones those Wild Oaks parents bred like minks. She imagined they came out of a celestial assembly line, little blond babies wearing Ralph Lauren onesies in the car seats of their BMWs and Mercedes. The Morning Star himself lived there, David Stratton, the high school quarterback and resident golden boy. Despite herself, she fantasized about dating him, though not for his popularity or good looks. No, she recognized something inside him. A darkness like her own born not of evil but of sadness, a searing aloneness that scraped at the edges of the soul.
How could someone that beloved ever be lonely? Did no one really know him? Was he lost and didn't know how to escape the trunks of the longleaf pines hemming in his neighborhood like the bars of a giant prison?
When they were kids, she and David used to play in one of the tree houses the Wild Oaks fathers hired someone else to build, until David's parents found out and banned him from associating with the trailer park kids. In the years that followed, the forest between them became an ocean to cross, a Maginot line, a barrier more mental than physical.
What had happened to that little boy?
The true story of the Morning Star, both devil and angel, was one of the many mysteries she aimed to expose in Night Lives.

A Shattered Lens

By Layton Green

Halfway  through the woods, she heard the murmur of angry whispers, too low to make out the age or gender.  Blue froze. She couldn't be seen with the stolen camera. At first she debated turning back, but teenage trysts took place in these woods--re-purposing the tree houses. This could be her first big scene. Why else would anybody from Wild Oaks be out in the woods after dark?

Annalise, who was called Blue, had stolen a camera and was headed into the woods to try it out. She had big dreams of someday being a filmmaker and her first project was to be Night Lives. She thought the woods would be empty but when she heard distant murmurs, she was afraid--of being found with a stolen camera. Thinking about it, she realized that it was probably teens making out in the tree houses once built when they were all kids...

Continuing to set up her camera in a clearing, she jumped when those voices entered the clearing. She quickly moved back, but realized the camera was still recording... Hearing what appeared to be fighting. She moved to look through the lens when she heard a gunshot...and a thud to the ground...She learned later it was a body!

For now she just heard the sounds--of moaning--of something being dragged...

Then her cellphone rang!

She ran! But soon, she could heard the pounding of footsteps following...

Preach and his lovely wife had found some time to be together, only to be interrupted from a possible romp in the loft, by another cellphone! Preach apologized, announcing, "But there's a body in the woods..."

Discovering that the body was of a teenager was bad enough, but he was also "the golden boy--" the high school's star quarterback. But, for Preach, it got even worse, when he discovered that his mother was Claire Lourdis, the girl in school that everybody wanted--maybe him most of all. He had not seen Claire for many years and now they would be meeting, again, because of her son's murder... And, indeed, it was a difficult time. Especially, since David Stratton's father had abandoned his family. Claire reasoned that David was as well-adjusted as he could be in those circumstances...

In the meantime, Blue was scared. She had lost several things in the woods and now, Cobra, the enforcer of the neighborhood gang was going to each trailer seeking the individual who had lost the things...

Preach was dealing with the interviews, details and normal activities surrounding a murder case, but he soon began to question whether Claire was involved...and hoping she wasn't...

Memories, secrets, and more are revealed as each of the main characters move through twists and turns. But the setting itself--trailer park versus rich part of town residents adds a dimension that many may face around the nation. Where the rich believe they can do as they wish and sometimes, even the poor can be paid to cover for them...Just how much can be discovered digging into these two worlds that cross continuously? Find out in another strong police procedural with a great character, Preach, who allows readers to see the good, the bad, and the memories and private thoughts in between. Highly recommended.


Monday, July 29, 2019

The Geezers. Lots of Carr's Characters All Back in The Last Thing She Said, by Lauren Carr!

In The Last Thing She Said, a Chris Matheson Cold Case Mystery, Lauren Carr has brought together most of the main characters from her various series. Gnarly, of course, was right there in the midst of another fantastic novel, when Carr does a political spoof that is priceless, ingenious and so funny and..."spot on!" I couldn't help but share, even though it's not really a part of the mystery! And, of course, that's one of the delights for which Carr is known...going beyond the mystery into family, pets and romance! Another wedding is on the way after this book, for instance!

“Is that Buttwrinkle?” Chris tucked Sterling behind him—as if no one would notice the hundred-pound German shepherd concealing his appearance under a floppy cruising hat and mirrored sunglasses. “Yeah,” Mac said with a grumble in response to his observation. “It’s surprising to wonder how that big of a head can sit on those shoulders without a neck.” Chris was aware of the hour approaching ten o’clock. At the Spencer Inn, Lucille Del Vecchio was expected to be running the blood drive. Helen and Archie were on their way to interview her. If the chairman of the town council’s revelation took too long, Chris risked missing the entire interview.
Depending on what evidence Buttwrinkle had, Sterling risked missing a lot more. Sensing that trouble was brewing, Sterling huddled behind his master’s legs and surveilled the little man commanding the roomful of journalists and other local officials in the town council’s press room. 
His arms folded across his chest, Police Chief David O’Callaghan kept a close watch on everyone entering and leaving the room. Two of his officers waited behind him—as far from the odor wafting from the podium as possible. As David had predicted, the chairman of the town council wore his stench like a badge of honor gained from his ongoing war against the canine mayor. In addition to the skunk perfume, he also wore a round bruise in the middle of his forehead. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” David replied when Chris asked about the source of the wound. “Buttwrinkle refuses to tell me anything. He says I’ll cover it up.” For his moment of triumph, Adam Buttwrinkle had set up not one, but two huge monitors on which to unveil his evidence of Gnarly’s criminal activities in action. In contrast to his ego, Adam Buttwrinkle was a little man. Clad in a blue suit and tie, he smirked and posed for the cameras from behind the podium. 
Offended by the odor, the journalists filmed the lead-up to the unveiling from as far away as possible. A routine developed for each journalist. He or she would head for the first row to catch all the action. Upon entering the stench field surrounding the chairman, the news person would do a U-turn and head for the back of the room. 
Oblivious, or maybe it was indifference, to Adam Buttwrinkle’s goal of obtaining his downfall, Gnarly sat front and center in the gallery with his unblinking eyes focused on the councilman. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts,” Adam hissed at the German shepherd. “Your authoritarian reign over this town ends now.” 
Garrett County’s prosecuting attorney, Ben Fleming, entered the press room. After shaking hands and engaging in a brief conversation with the police chief, the sophisticated gentleman dressed in a fine tailored suit made his way toward Mac. Upon seeing the county’s top legal counsel, Adam trotted down from the stage toward him. As the stench closed in on him, Fleming backed away while cautiously stretching out his hand.
“I hope you brought a subpoena with you,” Adam asked while smirking in Mac’s direction. Ben exchanged quick glances with both Mac and David. “I figured you didn’t. Doesn’t matter. After I’m finished, the citizens of Maryland are going to demand the DOJ take swift action against Spencer’s criminal mastermind.” Adam puffed up and rose his voice to demand the attention of every journalist in the room. 
“I don’t care how much money and power Faraday has, the people will demand that there be justice. If this terrorist attack against me—an elected citizen whose only goal has always been to do what is right and just—is allowed to go without the perpetrator being held accountable—then our nation is truly in the state of a constitutional crisis.” He pointed at the monitors on the stage. 
“If this crime that you are about to witness had been committed by anyone else in Spencer—the perpetrator would have been arrested by now and be sitting in a jail cell!” Standing tall, he made his way back to the podium. Those in the room stepped back to allow plenty of room for the odorous cloud that encompassed him. At the podium, he turned around and took in the sea of journalists, members of the city council and county commission, law enforcement officers, county prosecuting attorney, and chief of police crowded at the opposite end of the room. 
Staring unblinking at him, only Gnarly sat in the front row—daring Adam Buttwrinkle to continue.
“Mac,” Chris said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 
“Wait for it.” Chris stiffened when he saw Mac slip his hand into his jacket pocket. He’s not seriously going to shoot that twerp in a room filled with witnesses!
“At three o’clock this morning,” Adam Buttwrinkle said, “a crime boss running his criminal enterprise right here in Spencer, launched a terrorist attack against me—” he pounded his chest—“an elected official, in an effort to obstruct justice. He knew I was closing in on exposing him for the crime boss that he is. For that, he sent his goons to attack me.” 
“What had Gnarly done?” one of journalists asked.
“What crimes have you been investigating?” 
“Terrorist threats for one.” Buttwrinkle pointed at the sea of journalists before him. “He’s made terrorist threats in plain view in front of most of you.” 
“Oh yeah,” Police Chief David O’Callaghan said. “How can any of us forget when the mayor peed on your leg after vetoing your law against snowball fights?” 
“Which is why I didn’t bring this evidence—real evidence—to you.” Adam pointed across the room at David for the journalists to photograph. 
“David O’Callaghan was appointed to be Spencer’s police chief, but instead he has been working as Gnarly’s personal protector. Instead of working for justice for Spencer’s citizens, O’Callaghan has been covering up our mayor’s crimes—like breaking into the grocery store last night and stealing every roll of toilet paper to use in his attack on my home.”
“Is that true?” A journalist near David stuck a microphone into the police chief’s face. 
“All evidence at the grocery story indicates that the toilet paper was stolen by squirrels and raccoons,” David said. There was a confused murmur throughout the room. “And the odor that you are smelling in this room is from skunk,” David said. “Not dog. And the landmines left at Mr. Buttwrinkle’s property have been traced back to black bears in the area—not canine.” 
“Then—” a journalist tried to ask only to be cut off by Adam Buttwrinkle pointing a finger at Gnarly, whose gaze was fixed on the councilman. 
“Acting on Gnarly’s direction—like the canine crime boss that he is!” 
Many of the journalists scoffed before one called out, “Are you seriously trying to tell us that Spencer’s squirrels, raccoons, bears—” 
“And let’s not forget the skunks,” another said with a laugh. 
“How could we?” yet another said while waving her hand in front of her face. “—actually launched an organized attack on you upon orders from Spencer’s mayor?” One of the more timid reporters cautiously asked, 
“Mr. Buttwrinkle, are you aware that Gnarly is a dog?” She glanced at the German shepherd in the front row as if to double check her own assessment. “He’s not a dog!” Adam Buttwrinkle shouted. “He’s Al Capone in a dog suit! I have him on camera—three o’clock in the morning, barking orders, standing on my property, directing the raccoons and the squirrels and the bears and deer.” To prove his point, Adam pointed at the bruise in the center of his forehead. “A big fat squirrel did this. Hurled a nut at me from the porch rail—hit me square between the eyes.” 
“With all due respect, sir,” a curvacious young journalist said in a loud voice, “I find it disgraceful for you to body-shame a poor defenseless squirrel. How do you know he didn’t have a thyroid condition?”
“I was right,” Chris told Mac in a low voice. “Squirrels do have thyroids.” Cringing in pain, Buttwrinkle jabbed at the bruise on his forehead. 
“That defenseless squirrel launched a missile at me. As I was blacking out, I heard him”—he pointed at Gnarly—“laughing at me!” 
Sensing that they were witnessing a mental breakdown before their very eyes, the journalists back away. Even in their rising fear, they made certain that they were recording everything for what promised to be breaking news. 
Their skepticism enraged Buttwrinkle more. “You may think that having a canine mayor who disregards our laws and obstructs justice is okay, but I’m not all right with that! No one is above the law!” 
He spun around and pressed a button on a remote. Ben Fleming turned to Mac. The corner of Mac’s mouth kicked up into a crooked grin. Chris tucked Sterling behind him. He hoped there was no image clear enough for the dog to be recognized. Gnarly sat up taller in his seat. Unblinking, his eyes were trained on Adam Buttwrinkle. The monitors behind the podium sprang to life. 
The journalists watched as the view of a table in an outdoor restaurant came into view. Adam Buttwrinkle was one of two men sitting at the table as the server walked away. 
“What—where—what the—” Adam sputtered upon seeing the image that splashed across the two monitors. 
In the recording, Adam Buttwrinkle chuckled at his companion while ogling the buxom server walking away from the table. “What I wouldn’t give for a piece of—” 
“I thought you ran on respect and dignity for working women,” the other man at the table said. 
Behind the podium, Adam pointed two remotes at both monitors and pressed button after button while trying in vain to turn them off, but nothing happened. Chris saw Mac take his hand out of his pocket to reveal—not a gun—but a remote identical to the ones with which Adam was wrestling. Mac winked at Chris. 
“Look, the average voter is just plain stupid.” Adam laughed on the video. “They’re so easy to manipulate. All you have to do is say what they want to hear, and they’ll vote for you—even if what you’re saying is idiocy.” 
“This is your doing!” Adam pointed a finger at Gnarly. On the monitor, Adam told the man across the table, “You haven’t deposited the money into my account yet.” 
The conspirator looked at his phone. “What assurance do my partners and I have that you’ll be able to come through with removing Spencer’s ordinance protecting the forest and wildlife on the north side of the mountain. Our people can’t move forward on the development project as long as that ordinance is in place.” 
“Most of the town council is made up of moronic puppets—” 
There was collective gasp among the council members in the room. 
“—and those with the guts to go up against me will learn real fast to fall in line.” Adam chuckled. “Everyone has skeletons in their closets. Once my people find theirs—What’s the saying? I’ll make them offers they can’t refuse.” 
“They had no right spying on me!” Adam yelled at Mac from the front of the press room. The audience that Adam Buttwrinkle had gathered together was riveted by the true colors of the town council’s chairman being fully displayed in the recording. 
Adam’s dining companion was not yet convinced of his ability to deliver his task in their conspiracy. 
“But Mac Faraday is a Spencer and it was his ancestors—” 
“Once I manage to bring down the mayor—” 
“You’ve been smearing the mayor ever since he took office. My people got the state attorney general to assign four prosecutors to that dog’s case. They’ve spent over two-hundred thousand dollars of taxpayers’ money digging into that dog’s life and no one has found any concrete evidence to use to remove him from office. The closest thing they’ve got is him palling around with a Russian blue cat, but there’s no law against that.” 
“As long as we stick together and continue to sing the same tune over and over again, the people will run him from office, if only by not re-electing him. It’s like that annoying song you keep hearing on the radio—you hear it over and over and over again until you can’t get it out of your head. Gnarly’s corrupt. Gnarly’s a criminal. Gnarly’s a crime boss. Gnarly’s a terrorist. Gnarly’s obstructing justice. After a while, no one needs any proof to believe it. The lie will seep into their collective consciousness until they believe it. By the time I’m through, he’ll be in the pound with a needle in his paw and I’ll be in charge.” 
Adam eased away from the podium under the dozens of daggers aimed at him. His exit from the room was blocked by the county prosecutor and a line of Spencer police officers. 
“And the zoning?” the companion asked. 
On the monitor, Buttwrinkle waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll quietly make a recommendation to the county commission to change the zoning. No one will notice what’s happening until it’s too late. Your company will mow down the trees. Those flea-bitten squirrels, raccoons, and bears that the Spencer family so stupidly willed to be protected will be shipped to the zoo before anyone knows they’re gone.” He laughed. “We’ll all be rich.” 
He held up his phone. “But before any of that can happen, you need to pay my consulting fee.” Adam’s companion picked up his phone and pressed a few buttons. Bouncing with delight in his seat, Adam watched the screen on his phone. His face broke into a broad grin. “Thank you very much.” 
At the podium, Adam Buttwrinkle uttered a gut-wrenching yell and yanked a gun from his suit pocket. He aimed his weapon at Gnarly, who snarled in response. 
Before anyone could react, there was a blur from the back of the room. Sterling caught hold of Adam Buttwrinkle’s wrist. The gun went flying across the room. Buttwrinkle screeched like one of the wild animals he was aiming to displace in exchange for riches. The momentum of Sterling’s attack spun the town councilman like a top. 
Like a child joining in a fun game, Gnarly caught Buttwrinkle by the other arm. In a matter of seconds, the two dogs had the chairman pinned to the floor. Cameras poised, the journalists rushed forward to catch the photo op—and backed away just as quickly upon entering the skunk field. 
“Councilman Adam Buttwrinkle, we have a warrant for your arrest for accepting a bribe.” 
David O’Callaghan handed a pair of handcuffs to one of his officers. “Parker, cuff Buttwrinkle.” 
The officer covered his nose. “Why me?” 
Mac turned to Chris. “Told you I had everything under control.” 
Chris cocked his head at him. “Ain’t it ironic? He’s been doing everything that he’d been accusing Gnarly of doing?” 
“When Buttwrinkle started digging for dirt on Gnarly, I told him, ‘You go after Gnarly, and I’ll go after you—and I’ll bury you.’ He should have listened.”

What's especially fun about the Geezer Squad is that, those who have been dedicated to their jobs, even through retirement, have decided to form a book club...a club where they take on "cold cases" that were remembered by each of them, or new ones that have come to their attention.

The latest one came via Chris and was a mystery in itself! You see, the letter came as a request to discover who had killed her husband who had been found killed 40 years ago... The request came from his wife who was also dead...

True love is the basis for putting together this complex case which included, actually, lots of murders, some for their present case and some for another former cold case! Whew. So many trails were being followed that the Geezers split up to travel to various places, while, Chris and Helen, were schedule for lunch in Spencer, but got hung up on personal issues! LOL

But the network worked as each of the characters from other books were brought in to lend their expertise, although I admit, I really didn't have a clue whodunit! 

And, being built on a love story that was built over years of marriage and family, together with working within a town and building was a shock. Especially, since Christopher was only seven when he witnessed much of what had occurred so many years ago, giving readers a dimension of background that was wonderfully handled.

Too many twists and turns to easily share about this book. Nevertheless, Carr has pulled off another "hit" that kept me reading in one setting until the clues were so well together that the villain fell into our laps...or Chris's, LOL Carr has put a lot into the book beyond the mysteries this time...Characters enjoyed chocotinis, visited book stores...and even blundered into getting engaged (the ring had been purchased 4 months ago)... But, for me, a special thank you for the political spoof at a time when politics at the national level is devastating, gave me a laugh and lightened the load of it all!


Saturday, July 13, 2019

The Things He Never Did - Painting by Walter Jack Savage and Hermit by Regis Aiffrey! Dynamic Duo!

This is my first attempt to get back into blogging. This time by featuring two friends--Walter Jack Savage, artist and author... and Regis Aiffray, writer/poet. The themes of these two works fit so well together that I just had to spotlight both!

The Things He Never Did by Walter Jack Savage



I live

I love

among rocks and trees

I can still see all

and for that I am grateful

I am alone
often and yet not

Wild creatures
come and go
I speak to them
it seems to me they understand

The great river down below
tells many tales
I love stories

Sometimes I feel unease
I find it hard to see the good
in this world
in this life

Perhaps good is an illusion

The river does not tell untruths
it cannot
it has lived this life since eons

I feel up and down
like a child’s yo-yo

But I think I have to accept
things as they are

No one argues when I speak
to myself

I am a hermit
on a beautiful hill
(the fool on the hill???)

But a lovely one has come
and has landed on me
nestled in my soul
like a sweet and pretty butterfly

I love her
I love you
I love me

As I believe it should be

© Regis Auffray

Kittens (one in these plants) and flowers!
My company at the Cabin!

MRI Brain Scan revealed small tumor in frontal area... Will be attending to details... Off and On...

Many of you have already seen a past notice on Facebook and have sent wonderful messages! Thank you! I thought an update was due, as well as a little more info... I have a great appointment with neurosurgeon. He indicated the tumor was somewhat routine and would be watched routinely, but not a problem now... On the other hand, he indicated everything going on was all different...The Vertigo is, of course, related to inner ears and equilibrium and medicine seems to be helping with that.
I recently had another MRI from my neck to hip to identify possible problems with the nerve in the lower legs which is really my main problem. Anyway, Everybody, including my niece Tracey, has been wonderful and treating me so nice--but I'm still having trouble getting routine things done...

Sorry to say that during the work on this blog, my right leg became numb... Will be going back to neurosurgeon later this month...hopefully he will have a way to move ahead...

God Bless