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Day 187-Focus Challenge 2-Writing Scenario to Story Premise

Fiction Writing Exercises for Stimulating Creativity Writing #365daynovel

From a simple scenarios form the basis for a story. Your job is to come up with three story premises for the scenario. Be creative and try to avoid the most obvious premises.

Chosen scenario:

  • A man and a woman are sitting across from each other at a small table in a dimly lit restaurant.

Premise 1:

A young, attractive couple sits together in the same dimly lit restaurant night after night. She has long auburn hair and bright green eyes, he had crystal blue eyes and thick dark brown hair. They are the picture of health and beauty. They are always deeply engaged in conversation. Just simple things that seem so very day-to-day, yet they exude excitement and wonder as they talk. They seem to never notice anyone around them, they are totally in a world all their own.

Young lovers, most would assume, happy and engaged in each other’s interests.
They talk only to each other, and look only at each other. The locals are used to them. no one ever talks to them or approaches them. They are allowed to carry on alone, uninterrupted, and almost unnoticed. Rarely is anyone ever seated close to them, so they continue in their own way. It is best this way.

Then strangers come in. Some don’t give them more than a passing glance. Some notice that something is different about this striking couple, others are attracted to them wanting to engage them in conversation. Their excitement for life seems to bubble over needing to be shared. It is like an energy that flows from them in quiet waves that invigorate the senses of anyone close by. They draw others in without even a glance or word to them directly. They have a unexplainable attraction to those who don’t know.

Locals watch, pitying those that fall under their spell. Those that join them at their table appear to have a wonderful evening with them, but when the restaurant closes, this beautiful couple is the last to leave, and somehow they always leave alone. Their new friends, what of them? The rumors  among the townsfolk speak of untold horrors, and these new friends are never seen again.

Premise 2:

A young couple in their teens sits together in a dimly lit restaurant trying to blend into the atmosphere of romantic lovers. The environment around them is strained as they practically will themselves to appear as completely enthralled young lovers, hoping that no one will notice them from anyone else in the place.

They hide in the darkest booth in the far back of the restaurant, praying that creature that killed their parents won’t look for them here. They don’t know what it is or where it came from, only that it is after something that their parents knew and now it seeks them since it did  not find what it was looking for in their house or glean the information from their parents.

They are hunted by the  police as well because they neighbors reported the murders and only saw them running from the house. They have no money, no car, and no  place to go, and it is only a matter of time before they are found. Somehow they must escape the creature and the  police until they can figure out the truth about what has happened and find the only person they can trust to help, and old friend of their father’s. But even this man is shrouded in mystery and they must walk in shadows until they can be sure if he will be their salvation, or more of their doom.

Premise 3:

An innocent couple is tucked away in the far corner of a romantic restaurant enjoying their meal, talking of an upcoming vacation when an explosion rocks the neighborhood sending the high-rise hotel next door crashing into the restaurant. They manage to flee the bay window table they are in, just as the building dissolves around them and they are trapped beneath the rubble. A section of the building remains where they are all trapped, but many are injured and the structure that is left won’t last long. Now they are in a race against time to get help and to find a way out, helping as many others as they can.

Roger is an EMT and Miranda a nurse, and they must use all their skills to survive, even as warning on Roger’s radio warn of another impending attack in more buildings in their area.

Ok, this was my writing exercise for the #365daynovell course I joined yesterday. This is day 2 of my challenge. Let me know what you think of my story premises from this exercise. The exercise was supplied by Writing Forward.

365daynovel.com/gigijb

 

Day 176-Halloween-The Harpist’s Wife

Happy Halloween! Today I am sharing another one of my ghost stories with you. I wrote this one some years ago as well, but it is all my own.  It was inspired by years of playing in the local cemetery behind my grandmother’s house, with my cousins while I was growing up.  It was published about 3 years ago on  Yahoo Contributor when I was writing for them, before they closed down the site, so there is some chance you may have seen it before. If you have, enjoy it again, if you haven’t, than welcome to the world of:

The Harpist’s Wife

It was a cold, dark, rainy, windy, night with lightning flashing and thunder rumbling loudly, and yet we were still there. We were stupid, foolish teenagers. We knew we shouldn’t be there; it was crazy and dangerous. We knew the stories were true, but we just had to see for ourselves. The legend said that if anyone went out to the cemetery on a night like this, one of them would not return from the Harpist’s grave, yet we still went. We had to know for ourselves. Call it dumb, invincible; know it all teen age pride and morbid, curiosity. We were six, when we went there that night.
Legend was that if anyone ventured into the cemetery on a night just like this one, you would see the Harper, hear him play, and watch as once again, he murders his wife, who smashes his harp in a jealous rage. Because the harp truly was his first love, in his will he left his full estate to the harp’s protection. It was to be enshrined atop his grave, in the most shatter proof glass, held together with thick steel, plated with solid gold. Lights shone upon it from either side, that it might shine like a god of the music world, he perceived it to be. He wanted it there, where he was sure, even in death; he could reach up and play it. And many say he plays it often. Many have heard it, and tell stories of reliving the night he murdered his wife with one of its broken strings, severing her throat. But each time there have been new witnesses to this crime, there has also been a new victim. His wife still tries to escape him, but for this there must be a trade, a soul for a soul. She must possess a mortal in order to flee from him.
So there the six of us were, standing in the stormy, dark night with only the light from the harp and the lightning waiting like lambs to the slaughter at the foot of the Harpist’s grave.
The thing about legends is that sometimes there are parts of them that people know, but are too afraid to speak of, so they only tell what they think will scare others away.
At precisely, 2:13 a.m., the harp began to play, and the harpist appeared at its side, an ordinary looking man, slender with shoulder length dark hair. Soon his lovely wife appeared, a vision of beauty with long flowing red hair, which surprised us, because every recounting of this story described her different, but always beautiful. They both were dressed in the finery of the late 1800’s. We watched as they began to fight. The real harp never moved from its shrine, and its music continued to play, as a vision of it fell to the ground. The Harpist scrambled to protect it, as she chopped it with an ax. Several times he narrowly escaped harm himself, crying in anguish as his precious harp broke into pieces.
She stood back weary and exhausted, dropping the ax to the ground, smiling. The Harpist plucked a long thin, sharp string from among the wreckage, and rose to face her. His hands wound tightly around the ends of the string until they began to bleed. Her smile faded, and she began looking for a place to flee for safety, it was then, they became aware of us watching.
She ran toward us wildly begging for protection, for a place of refuge. We scattered in different directions trying to get out of their path. I ran, my heart pounding, I could hear her footfalls behind me and her voice beseeching me to save her. I screamed that I could not help her because she was already dead. I stumbled over a low headstone, and fell and she fell upon me, and then we were one.
I felt her fear and my own, as she urged me to run, but I had broken my ankle in the fall and could only hobble. I cried for help from the others, but they would not come near because they had seen us become one, and they were afraid, but watched from the shadows.
I stumbled away as quickly as I could, but the Harpist overtook me, and I felt the bite of the string around my neck, cutting into my flesh. I could neither scream nor fend him off, though I tried. He over powered me. I felt my blood flowing down my neck, and my life slipping away.
In my head I heard her voice, “Thank you for setting me free, I am so sorry it had to be you.” Then I felt her fade away, and my world went dark.
When I awoke, the Harpist was once more playing his harp as though nothing had happened. My friends and the traveler were crying and screaming as they ran from the cemetery, leaving me behind. I called to them to wait, but they didn’t seem to hear me. As I started to follow after them, my foot caught on something on the ground. It was then that I knew what she had meant. Below me lay the body that once was mine, on the ground.
As I looked up, the Harpist beckoned to me. “Come my dear wife; let the music of the harp bring you peace, at least for a while.” I tried to walk away, but I found I could not leave the cemetery.
This was the part of the legend, no one would pass along. This was why no one described her the same way twice. Because each time she succeeded in freeing herself, she passed on her legacy to the one who took her place. This I now know, because for now until the next legend seekers came to the cemetery, on a stormy night, I am the Harpist’s wife.

Day 175-Hook Arms’ House- a Pre-Halloween Treat

Well with Halloween being tomorrow, I thought I might share one of my ghost stories with you. I wrote this one some years ago, based on a story that was passed around by high school students when I was just a young child. A place on an old country road dubbed Hook Arms house due to these rumors actually existed, but has long since been torn down.

This story was published once on Yahoo Contributor when I was writing for them, before they closed down the site, so there is some chance you may have seen it before. If you are from my small town,  you have probably heard the original rumors before, but now here’s the whole story. Hope you enjoy a good spook story. Happy All Hallows Eve Eve. I will have another original ghost story for you for tomorrow.

 

Hook Arm’s House

In the 1970’s, a series of unfortunate events, hurled a small Hill Country, rural town, into a ghost story, never forgotten.

Because of the trouble that ensued at the time this story broke, I am not allowed to tell you exactly what road, what town, or even any real names that are in any way connected to this tale. It has taken more than 30 years, to restore the peace around this area, which can only be kept by keeping thrill seekers away. He is now, just a forgotten legend, and for everyone’s safety, that is best. But, I haven’t forgotten, thus, I share his tale.

He returned from the war, with a hook in the place of his left arm, and adopted the name, Hook Arm, whether he wanted it or not. He lived alone in a meager two room shack that stood 100 yards off the county road just outside of town at the end of a short country lane, lined with trees. A grove of trees stood behind the shack as well, and one large and very old tree stood just to the left of it, giving shade to the small abode.

Hook stayed mostly to himself, haunted by the memories of war, and the family he had lost. In the beginning he did nothing to warrant the fear people had for him and his hook, but then one summer, quite by mistake, that all changed.

A family with a little girl, about seven, moved into the cabin in the field, across the county road. Neighbors immediately warned the family to stay away from the man who lived in the nearby shack. They told terrifying stories of Hook Arm, though he had never harmed anyone.

The girl often rode her bike down the county road. She would waive to Hook Arm tending his garden, and he would wave back. One day, she fell from her bike, around the curve just out of sight of her house, but still close enough for Hook to see her from his garden. He went to her. Her legs were scraped, she was crying, and could not ride her bike like she was. He carried her back to her house, walking her bike alongside him. Her parents were afraid, and thanked him, but quickly sent him away, warning the girl to stay away from him.

In spite of her parents’ warnings, the little girl was not afraid, and would ride down to his house to visit him, bringing him biscuits and things she snuck from her mother’s table. They became fast friends. He would often tell her stories of the little girl that he had lost.

One day the little girl arrived at his house, with a basket of muffins, and found that he was not home. Wanting to leave the muffins anyway, she left her bike leaning against the big tree at the side of the shack, and tried to find a way in. She wandered around the back of the shack and fell into an old, shallow hand dug well, when she stepped through its rotten plywood cover. That evening a storm came and the well quickly filled with water.

It was after dark and raining when Hook Arm returned and he did not see her bike leaning against the tree.

The little girl’s parents became alarmed when she did not return home before dark. They enlisted the neighbors to search the road for her, but did not find her or her bike.

From his kitchen window, in a flash of lightning, Hook Arm saw the bike leaning on the tree. He went out into the storm with a flash light, looking for his little friend. In the back yard, he found a piece of her torn dress on the collapsed plywood well cover. Shining the light into the well, he could barely see her face beneath the water. He knew she was gone. He laid in the mud, and stretched out his arms, barely able to reach her and drag her to the surface.

When he laid her down, he saw that there was a large gash in her head, and her leg was broken. He knew then that she had been knocked unconscious and drowned. He picked her up and carried her all the way back to the road. He wailed so loudly that his anguished screams were heard by the search party out looking for the girl. When they saw Hook Arm carrying her, they attacked him, assuming the worst. He tried to explain that he had found her and was too late to save her, but their fear turned to instant blame, and the neighbors became an angry mob. They chased Hook Arm back to his house, where he tried to barricade himself in, but they broke in and beat him until he could no longer fight back. Then they hung him from the large tree in his yard, left him to die, and set fire to his shack.

The storm became tremendously vicious that evening. When morning broke, his body was gone from the tree, never to be found, though the noose still hangs there, and his house though scorched and blackened still stands.

According to legend, he bargained with the Devil, who set him free, and allowed him to seek revenge on mankind for hating him. Many mysterious deaths occurred, including one by one each of the neighbors who helped to hang him.

The story made headlines, causing countless groups of fun seekers to travel to Hook Arm’s House to see where this happened, as well as to see if they could glimpse him roaming the grounds. Often an old, soaking wet, disheveled man, with a hook arm, and a bent neck, twisted from hanging is seen walking the dirt road leading down to his shack.

Almost all who return tell stories of running for their lives from a wet, dirty man with a hook arm but even more have gone, and never returned.

Occasionally, the missing thrill seekers are found brutally beaten and hanging from the tree by the house, while others appear to be drowned in the old well. The trees on his land are scarred with slashes from his hook, left behind from when he exacted his revenge on his attackers. But for each new person he catches, a new slash appears on one of his trees, and to date, there are many.

Often Hook Arm is seen tending his garden next to be blackened house. It grows beautifully ever year. He waves at passers-by; be sure to wave back, but don’t ever stop!

Day 166-The Writing on the Stall Wall

Our 8:00 am conversation around the Billing department was rather comical this morning. It all began because Neil  brought donuts to share for his birthday.

Sharon announced, as we were coming in, “Neil brought donuts to share, they are in the back!”

To which I responded, “Oh cool, is it his birthday?”

At this point several other ladies chimed in and the conversation went something like this:

“Yes today’s Neil’s birthday.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, I read it in the bathroom.”

“Oh, on the stall news, I guess I missed that.”

“Ya that’s how we find out everything these days.”

Laughing, “It used to be when someone said they read it in a bathroom, that meant it was written on the wall, like in the old days. “Call for a good time…””

“Now the Safety Stall News is where we find things out.”

“It just sounds wrong, “I read  in the bathroom that it is your
birthday today.” Laughing.

“Yup we get our news on the Toilet Tabloid!”

The conversation really went down hill from here with much humor, but not everything said can be repeated, only laughed at.

Have a great day, I will be watching for your name on the stall walls.

Day 145-Bull vs. Toyota-Livestock and Animals on Texas Highways

I saw something last night that has been a fear of mine for some time. Black Angus cattle are very hard to see at night. Quite often on my own road to the house, where I am already watching for them, I have come to a fast halt while rounding a corner due to one lying or standing in the middle of the road. Of course, I know they are there, so I am always watching for them.

Last evening we received a call from a concerned friend about a bull up by the old road side park on FM 965. They identified the tag, and luckily it was not our’s. We also located our’s standing in the field in front of our house, so we were doubly sure. We gave suggestions for other neighbors in the area that had similar animals.

A short time later a Sheriff’s deputy called us a second time, asking about the bull. I gave him the same information. At this point Brett and I decided to go up and see if we could lend a hand in any way.

From the time we got the call from the deputy, until the time we arrived on scene, which wasn’t more than ten minutes, things had taken a drastic change. We arrived to three sheriff’s vehicles with flashing lights blocking the road and we could tell by the debris in the road that an accident had occurred.

We pulled off the road in behind the last Sheriff’s car, and walked up to the scene to speak to the officers and see if we could help in any way. The bull was lying in the ditch alive but severely injured. Slightly in front of it, also in the ditch, was a white Toyota FJ Cruiser with the whole front end smashed in. The passenger’s side was the worst, obviously the main point of impact, but the vehicle was definitely totaled.

Apparently something spooked the bull and he ran across the median and straight out in front of the woman in the FJ. There was coolant and car pieces all over the road in her wake, but no skid marks that we could see. I don’t believe she even had time to react before impact.

The driver was still sitting inside the SUV with the door open waiting for the EMS to arrive, and a Sheriff’s deputy watching over her. Luckily the cab of the vehicle was completely intact and had held up well in the impact. The air bag had deployed, and most of her complaints injury wise were from the air bag and seat belt. Other than that she was distraught over having hit and injured the bull. She was actually more concerned for him than herself and was literally sick over seeing him lying in the ditch suffering while they tried to determine who he belonged to.

Shortly after we arrived one of the other cattle owners, that leases in the area pulled in behind us, and right after him the ambulance. The vehicle owner was treated and released at the scene with instructions to go to the ER if any symptoms worsened.

At this point, the second cattleman didn’t perceive the bull to be his. At the Sheriff deputy’s request I called another property owner in the  area to inquire if the bull might belong to him. After verifying the tag it was determined not to belong to him either.

Eventually after sending a picture of the tag to the previous owner, the neighbor on scene with us did verify that it was the bull that he had just moved in for a 3 month trial before buying. It was a very disappointing discovery for him, coupled with the fact that the animal should have been on the complete opposite side of the property no where near this road.  At this point he had no choice but to shoot the bull ending his suffering, and winch him up onto a truck bed to be hauled away. This was a very disheartening scene for all of us.

Folks I am telling you this story because this is an inevitability of rural Texas, or anywhere people raise livestock. Of course, this is a well used highway and the right of way is fenced all along it, but that is where we all get too  comfortable. Fenced or not, if there is livestock in the area we have to be vigilant. Deer  and wild animals are not the only creatures that may wander into the road ways in front of your vehicle. Domestic livestock do not always follow the rules even if they have fences, and in many rural areas, they are not fenced out of the roadways.

Cattle, horses, sheep, goats, llamas, and various others can and will get into roadways from time to time. Any of them can do damage to your vehicle and you if you hit them. Many of them come in dark colors that are hard to see at night. And the larger ones could cost you your life if you hit them at a higher rate of speed.

Don’t count on fences. Always watch your surroundings. If you see livestock in the area where you are traveling be careful and watch for them even if they appear to be in fenced in areas. No one expects a black bull to run out in front of them in the middle of the highway in the dark. If the animal is not facing you were their eyes catch the light, you may not be able to see them at all.

In this area of Texas, animals of all kinds are the rule, not the exception. If you haven’t hit an animal, at some point you probably will.  It is not your fault, it just happens, but driving with caution and being aware that you are in areas where animals roam, both domestic and wild, is your best defense. Altercations with livestock, are bad for everyone involved. Everyone is out money and property.

The woman last night was very lucky. Yes, her vehicle is totaled, but she came away, so far with what appear to be only minor injuries. There are people everywhere that have much different stories to tell, and some that are no longer here to tell their stories at all.

Don’t be reckless when trying to avoid an animal, swerving and skidding can be just as dangerous. Don’t depend fully on the protection of your grill guard either, smaller animals and deer may be deflected but larger animals are most likely not running as quickly and their larger mass doesn’t deflect away or under as well. In smaller cars you could just as likely end up with the animal in your lap as on the road after the collision.

Animals and livestock are a fact of life here in Texas and most rural areas, expect the unexpected.

Day 138-Focus Challenge 1-Comfort

It was suggested to me that the picture I posted of the hay field shrouded in fog, gave one of my readers comfort. It wasn’t actually a writing suggestion, but I decided to run with it anyway. Thank you, Mary Beth Lindig Kendrick.

When I originally posted that picture, I just liked it, and for me the fog suggested a bit of mystery, or even spookiness, yet beauty. My friend suggested to me that for her, it brought forth feelings of comfort. For her it was a sense of home, safety, and a blanketing of comfort. I had never looked at fog quite like that, but I definitely can see where she sees this, and it got me to looking at it a bit differently.

I began to think of the things we associate comfort with, and what comfort means.

By definition: (according to Merriam Webster)
First in the verb, it means: to give strength and hope; or to ease the grief or trouble of.
As a noun, it means: to be a strengthening support or assistance, solace; or a contented well-being; satisfying or enjoyable experience.

I believe we all understand and can agree on what comfort is in the first sense of comforting one in grief or stress, but comfort as a noun, is where we both agree and disagree. Or perhaps, not disagree, but instead, differ as to what it is or does for each of us.

For this discussion, let’s focus on the definition: as a noun. So the question is, what do we associate with comfort?

There is a wide variety of things that we associate with bringing us that sense of safety, solace, cheer, well-being, and all around stress and grief free feeling, if only for a little while? We use things such as food, clothing, places, activities and people to help us achieve that sought after sense of comfort.

Have you ever thought about what makes you feel comfort? Perhaps it is different things at different times or for different reasons?

Food is quite often a big one for many. We eat things that remind us of better and calmer times, when things were happy. Ice cream, chocolate, desserts, and even candy are often turned to because they were many times childhood rewards or treats for special times and occasions.  Certain dinners or dishes that mom or grandma used to make can also be sought after as comforts.

I like fried turkey steak, home-made oatmeal cookies, coconut cream pie, and red velvet cake with my grandmothers cooked butter cream icing. I grew up eating turkey steak because we raised turkeys my whole life. Oatmeal cookies remind me of hauling hay with our neighbors. Meta would always make a washtub (I kid you not) full of oatmeal cookies, with tea and lemonade for a break when we came to do their hay.  My Oma Birck (grandmother) always made coconut cream pie and red velvet cake for birthdays. They were two of my favorite things she made. Do you have comfort foods? What are they, and why?

A piece of clothing or a blanket may also create good feelings of comfort. Growing up in an old rock house, I was always cold because it held the cold in, so I was usually wrapped up in a blanket or six. Because of this, even in the heat of summer I don’t sleep well unless it is cool enough to be under at least a sheet and preferably a light blanket. But ironically summer clothes are my comfort clothes, because though I love my blankets, I don’t like being bundled tightly in anything especially not heavy clothes for winter. Shorts and beach dresses are my comfort clothes.

The beach, Enchanted Rock State Park, and the waterfall on our creek are some of my comfort places. Before E-Rock was a state park we went there on a regular basis to climb, run around, and play so it is a big childhood fun time memory place for me. When ever my family didn’t have time for big vacation trips which by the time I came along they were few and far between, we would go down to the beach and play around for a few days. The sand, the waves, and the sea shells are the best source of comfort and peace I know. They just seem to reach into my soul and relax me. The waterfall on our home place is a spot filled with family and friend memories throughout my life. We swam, bathed, picnicked, played, fished,and just hung out there. Often it was a good place to escape to think, write, cry and relax alone as well.

And to add to this list there is one place I love and that is Disney World. I have only been twice in my lifetime, but I found it fun and fascinating each time. If I could afford to go often and take my family it would be a comfort place as well, because it represents the best parts of life which is the magic of youth and imagination, where you can just have fun, be silly and ride the same ride five times in a row if you want to, before moving on to the next adventure.

Where are your comfort places? Do you still go to any of them? Why are they special?

Other things that give me comfort, are many of the beauties of the natural world, put there by the Lord for all to observe. Sunsets, sunrises, fields of flowers, large bodies of water, fields of hay, most baby animals, and my children, all inspire comfort and joy in my heart and soul.

Stop for a moment and reflect, what are your comfort things?

 

Day 134-Focus on a Writing Challenge

Focus is sometimes the hardest part of writing. I often sit down to write and end up with nothing because I have so many things on my mind that I would like to write about that I leave the page blank in indecision.

Part of my problem is simply not wanting to be like so many others I see. I don’t want to get on here and tell you my life story all the time. I don’t want to use this a place to rant and rave about problems, people, and day-to-day things that irritate me. Trust me the temptation is there quite often. I don’t want to complain or say things that would cause any grief or backlash to any of my friends or family. That is hard quite often too, because sometimes I have a very valid gripe and maybe even an idea of how to better things, but know that voicing these things would only make things worse because the people involved simply don’t think they are allowed to be questioned and would take it out on others.

I am not a “politically correct” person, I prefer to say what I think, albeit in as polite but straight forward way that I can. The problem with this, is also knowing when to speak and when to perhaps wait for a more appropriate time. This is an even harder point, because those of us that like to speak our mind honestly, usually don’t like to have to hold our tongues, but necessity is sometimes just that.

I prefer to stay out of all things political, frankly because that seems to be all I see, hear and read right now, and I just don’t want to add to it, or argue about it with anyone. I do my own research, make my own choices, talk to people on occasion about it, but my views are my views and I don’t want to debate them on here.

I want to write interesting things, although this one may not be, but sometimes you just have to write your way through what you are thinking in order to create a subject to focus on. That is what I am doing today. I have so many things going on in my life that I would love to vent about, but it wouldn’t be wise, so then I have trouble focusing and coming up with an actual subject.

I have considered the idea of allowing my readers to pick subjects and ideas for me to write about. I am mostly a creative writer so I like fiction. It is fun and freeing. I have done plenty of non-fiction as well, and even a little history, tons of poetry, some community interest pieces, short, long and in between.  And now I blog,  where the subject matter is less organized and more spontaneous, which is good and bad. I had intended it to be more daily so that I would write more, but then my favorite subject (ie. rockets) only has big news a few times a year, so I have to find other things to write about.

As you can tell, I can be long-winded, but I have finally come to the Focus of this blog piece. I will continue to write what I want as the mood strikes, but in order to keep me writing on a more regular basis, I would like to entertain the idea of letting people who read this blog, suggest story ideas for me to contemplate and possibly  use. What I will probably do is continue to title my blogs with the blog day # like I do, but then on days that the subject is picked by a reader I will call them Challenge Stories and they will have an assigned # and Title. I will also occasionally write a blog giving the latest ideas and highlighting the ones that I plan to use. Now this will just be for fun but if I use an idea I will reference the  person that suggested it. Be creative, adventurous, and fun.

I guess I will see if anyone really reads this now won’t I?  if no one sends messages with ideas I know I am only writing to entertain myself, which if that is the case, at least I know my audience, don’t I?

If you are interested, just comment on the blog, or on Facebook  under the story, or m or message me with your subject idea. Let’s have fun…….

Day 125-Battlin’ Billies, Battlin’ Off to a Good Start! Go Big Red!

School is in full swing again and we are already at the third game of the season and Homecoming to boot. The Battlin’ Billies are off to a great start this year with 2 wins under their belt. Both games were really good games.

The season opener against Lampasas ending in overtime 42-41 was a well matched high stakes game all the way through. I personally have not enjoyed watching a football game that much in quite a while, and that is said from a parent’s stand point, where we all love watching our kids play, whether win or lose. This game was truly phenomenal. it was so much fun from a spectator aspect.

The Austin Travis game was good as well, ending in a 46-28 win over the Rebels. Both teams put up a good fight. The early lead gave the Billies a chance to play second and third string players giving them much needed playing experience as well as allowing parents to see all their kids play football, since that is why we come.

This week the Billies face off against the Burnet Bulldogs for Homecoming. This has become one of our bigger rivalries these days since we no longer play the Tivy Antlers. Burnet always has a strong team, but the Billies have a strong team this year too. The juniors on our team that were JV last year have the boasting rights of being the only Fredericksburg team to best the Bulldogs last year, and they carry that momentum with them onto Varsity this year. That coupled with the already strong character and playing of this team so far this season, and tomorrow night’s match up should prove to be another really good game. The Billies have the potential to best the Bulldogs this year, and I believe that they will. No matter the outcome it will take complete team work, support, accountability and fight. This team has that in place, they just have to keep their heads fully in the game and back each other play for play. They have to believe they can win. They already have the talent to win, now is the time to put head, heart and playing skills all on the field.

This is the year Battlin’ Billies, it’s time to put the Bulldogs back in the dog pound.

Good luck tomorrow night boys! Go Big Red! Battlin’ Billies Uber Alles!

Day 108- Final Summer Week High Lights

August has just gone by in a blur. Football began on the third so things have been busy. Brett made Varsity this year, so that is both a “Yeah” and an “Oh my are we ready for this?” Varsity has a lot more parent involvement than the sub varsity teams did. So the short answer is, yes, Brett is ready and we are proud of him. I am not, but that’s ok, because here we go anyway.

I am ready for game nights though. We went to the scrimmage in Lago Vista, and it was so much fun watching him play again. I just pray all goes well with no injuries. That is always my fear. Seeing him on the field taking down other players is just so exciting. Go Billies! They play the Lampasas Badgers this Friday to kick the season off.

Chelsea took a week off work before school started again and came home. We had a real nice week together. Tuesday, she and I went to the San Antonio Zoo, the river walk and the Spanish market. We were crazy and walked all around to the places in the downtown area. We put over 8 miles on our feet in the 100 degree heat. I know, what were we thinking. The simple answer was we didn’t want to have to move the car and pay another parking fee. The real truth of the matter is I believe the heat got to us. We had a great time and ate at the Original Mexican Restaurant on the river walk.

We were absolutely exhausted when it was all over and barely made the drive home. We even had to stop in Comfort at the Luvs to grab another drink and walk around a little.

Thursday after the scrimmage we went to the Austin airport to pick up Chelsea’s boyfriend, Guy, after which we stopped at Jim’s at the Y to eat and still made it home at the same time Brett did. One side note to this evening, the road to Lago Vista is unbelievable. That area has their own built-in roller coaster system they get to drive on a daily basis. I would not want to live there and drive that all the time. Poor Chelsea got car sick just getting there. That road makes “Devil’s Backbone” on  Highway 12 outside San Marcos seem to be a cake walk. The drive was definitely an adventure.

Friday was nice. We attended the Fair parade and then met my parents, brother and sister-in-law, and great-nephew for lunch at Enchanted Inn. Later that evening we went to the Gillespie County Fair.

While touring the grounds, we walked, visited and talked, which is actually one of the bigger high lights of the fair. You see people you don’t see the rest of the year, or don’t have time to visit with any other time. Later Steve went to the car and got our camp chairs because chairs were in short order around the dance floor. We sat  off the edge of the floor where there was a nice breeze and we quite enjoyed it there. Friends joined us bringing in their chairs as well.

Saturday, after lunch at Porky’s we went to James Kiehl park on the river in Comfort and just played around in the water. Guy made a make shift fishing rod from a line he found and a stick. We had equipment with us in the car,but he found this to be more fun. He didn’t catch anything but did have bites stealing his bait, and he saw a needle nose gar swim by. He had never seen one before and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Later we returned to the fair with our chairs in hand to attend the dance.

Sunday morning we loaded up Chelsea and Guy and then went to a friend’s house, where we loaded up more stuff Chelsea had in storage there and sent to two of them on their way to Lubbock.  I always hate seeing her leave.

My mom and I had the opportunity to go see Fredericksburg Theater Company’s production of Greater Tuna. Mom has seen all but the Christmas Tuna from the original Greater Tuna plays and we were excited to see it here.

Before I say anymore about this, just let me say, that I love FTC and have never been disappointed in their shows. They are a top-notch group that Fredericksburg is so lucky to have. I am sure that all future performances will be just as award-winning as they have always been in the past. This is also not a direct reflection of FTC itself  or even the performers, only this particular play.

That being said, if you are sensing a ‘but’ in here, you are quite correct. Let me remind you that my mom has seen the originals, and she was ready to leave  this performance by the intermission. If we had we wouldn’t have been the only ones to do so. Most stayed through the whole performance, but there were some that left.

I had been so excited to see Greater Tuna because I had always heard so much about it both in media and from my parents, and I was so disappointed. This was so far below the standards of FTC. The humor was lame and lacking as was the story line. I did comment to mom at one point during one of the town news segments, that it was like watching an episode of the Doss News, which would have been more interesting. Shirley Lange could have written this and done a better job.

I read that they are planning to do the Greater Tuna Christmas as well. Honestly I think it would be better to quit while they are ahead, and go back to the type of magical stories and performances everyone is used to expecting and seeing at FTC. Yes it was sold out, but that was to be expected since they were per forming a play that had so much notoriety from its originals. As for Greater Tuna, mom and I agreed that this was just spoiled fish! Sorry if I offend anyone, you are entitled to your own opinion as am I, and this is mine and my  moms.

On the brighter side, at least mom and I had something to go do together, since we don’t seem to manage that very often. The evening and weekend ended well as we spent time visiting with my parents at Dairy Queen and then their house. And now it’s back to the grindstone with work and school returning. Have a wonderful school year all. Go Billies!!!

Day 87- Speech Rant

Alright, I suppose it is just the writer in me, but it drives me crazy to hear people use words that simply are not words! My chosen gripe for the day is the word, or the lack of a real word, that is irregardless. I know a person that chooses to use this “word” in practically every sentence that gushes from their continually moving mouth. In fact, I hear it repeated so much from them, that it reminds me of the over use of the word, “inconceivable”  by Vizzini, in the movie the Princess Bride”.  With one difference of course, at least inconceivable is a real word. Because of this I am then tempted to quote Inigo Montoya, but using this nonsense word in it’s place,

“Irregardless. You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

And, of course, it does not mean what they must think it means, because in fact it really does not mean anything.  People who use this nonstandard word think that they are substituting it for the word “regardless” and so making emphasis on the word to create a stronger meaning. Sadly, they are actually doing just the opposite, because the word, regardless already means, without regard. When the prefix ‘ir’ is added to a word, it is a variant of the prefix ‘in’, which means, not, lacking, or the opposite of. Therefore, when added to the word regardless, it basically adds another without to the meaning, creating a meaning of without without regard. This becomes a double negative. So then, just what are they trying to say, that they now do have regard for what they so adamently tried to have regard against? I am confused as well we should all be.

irregardless is a nonstandard, slang word, that technically has no real meaning. So basically, if you want to sound ignorant, then by all means use this word. If you really don’t care what others think of you, then put it right out there. And please use it over and over again like the person I mentioned. After all the more incorrect ways and times you use it, the more profound it becomes, correct?! As to what is becoming profound, perhaps you should ponder that one a bit.

An example:

Regardless of the NO TRESPASSING VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED sign posted at the entrance of the fishing hole. The teenagers were caught fishing there.

In the above example they would have done this without regard or mindfulness of the sign warning them not to do this, therefore not taking things in to account.

Now let us use the same example with the other word:

Irregardless of the NO TRESPASSING VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED sign posted at the entrance of the fishing hole. The teenagers were caught fishing there.

In this example, it would literally mean they did this because of the sign warning them not to do this, because the double negative cancels out the  without regard for the sign and only leaves regard. Now they are mindful of the sign, and just don’t care. (Of course if they are teenagers, in their mind it might make perfect sense, at least until after they get in trouble.)

Is it a bit of reverse psychology for those using this word, where as now instead making their point they are actually making the opposite point?

You see, none of it makes sense, because it is a nonsense word.

The American English Usage Dictionary, chastens the word irregardless stating that the word seldom gets into print, but is “occasionally heard in speech from people who should know better.”

And with that, I rest my case!