Hello, hello, hello. It’s been a while. Nothing earth-shattering from me; just a new blog post to keep the blog alive and make some use of last January’s renewal fee for the URL. Sometimes, life throws you a curve that takes the starch right out of you. Later on, though, you brave up, open WordPress to blog again, only to find that the whole blogging interface is redesigned. There goes some of that starch you’d regained. Where is everything? Cheers to me making more than one blog post before this time next year.

I’m sitting here, chilling while watching the Olympics (yay, Bermuda!). Other than being a sofa athlete, I’m getting back to writing. My current project is as a writer-in-residence with the Museum of American Military Families. I’m working on a series of essays for the Museum’s GRAICE Project. Along with the essays, I’m planning to improve my blogging habit, provided this interface doesn’t send me in search of chocolate too often. Me investing in a new Dummies book may be around the corner.

Fwiw, neither Covid nor physical dying were ever in play for me or anyone else in the family concerning my starchlessly curved hiatus. (Btw, go get your vaccination!) The blog post title is just a quotation from the souvenir t-shirt I have from a years-ago performance of Monte Python’s Spamalot.

If you’re reading this, thanks.

In honour of Bermuda’s gold medal, here’s a snap from the last time I was there: yellowfin tuna in the panoramic tank at the Bermuda Aquarium.

I haven’t written anything here for quite a while. Explanation: “Life.”

I’m not ill, other than the ‘flu at the moment (sucks), and the only thing that has been broken is my heart (sucks worse). I’m assured by those who aren’t currently in my situation that this gradually mends. Good to know, but not immediately useful. In any case, I had to update the credit card information for the site so you don’t have to see advertising and I figured I’d write something while I was here.

I’m working on a short story to submit to this year’s Fishy anthology sponsored by the Guppy Chapter of the Sisters in Crime writers organization. (Guppy = “Great UnPublished”) Even if my story doesn’t fit the editors’ needs (ie, the story is rejected), I’ll be using it in my own collection so it won’t go to waste.  With luck, and no more San Andreas moments in my life, I’ll get back on the blogging pony and keep on moving. I started ‘writing’ early and I see no reason to stop now.

1950 11 Nov typing lesson sm

Grandpa giving me my first typing lesson.


If you’re reading this, best wishes to you for a life free of San Andreas moments.

I was putting myself in the mood for making up my lies — uh, writing my stories — and I was virtually strolling around a country path near Fulda, Germany when I chanced upon my daughter’s dog, Rocco, doing the same thing.  Good thing I had some dog biscuits in my pocket.

Strolling around the Rhön in Germany via Google Cardboard.


Me feeding dog biscuits to Rocco over our garden gate.

It’s about as dry as Arizona, 90F at night, and what are the people doing?  Shooting off exploding skyrockets in an area with houses and trees.  It’s enough to make you question whether they should be allowed out without keepers.

My sprinkler is on, but I don’t know about anyone else’s.

In 1952, my parents rented a television so we could watch the BBC coverage of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II from our London-suburb home in North Harrow. Sixty years later, I’m sitting here in my home near Kansas City watching  on a laptop the BBC’s live-streaming of the river pageant portion of the Queen’s Jubilee celebrations. Amazing.

I don’t have any momentous observations, or ‘closing of circles’ comments. I’m merely gaping a bit at the sixty years (!!) and the simultaneity of me watching and blogging.

I’d blog something more, but I keep watching the live-streaming (10am, Central American time, 3 June,  if you’re reading here)

I do miss not being able to go down to Tower Bridge to watch, but I’ll just make do with another cup of tea — English breakfast tea, with milk of course.


Update:  Make that 59 years.  Queen Elizabeth II ascended the throne sixty years ago on the death of her father, George VI, but the coronation was held the next year (and that’s when my parents rented the television set).   May you pardon the slightly inaccurate memories of a young child.

Just a thank you to the people ‘behind the curtain’ for maintaining service during a recent attack on the WordPress servers.

Mary Kennedy:

And the Beat Goes On: Creating Characters with Legs

Denise: It is essential that the character’s core values remain the same so that, although that character has grown and evolved, he or she is still the same person the reader originally met and liked.

Carolyn: That is at the crux of the mystery novel. The protagonists want to live in a good and decent world and always strive to do the right thing.

more at blog

On the one hand, writing is easier than snow shoveling because you can do it inside where it’s warm, and you can do it sitting down.

On the other hand, once you shovel the driveway, you don’t have to “edit” it, over and over (barring continued snowfall and snowplows, which we are spared today).

Poor driveway picture (who knows where the camera focused itself)

This was the depth my daughter and I shoveled from across the driveway.

As blizzards go, this wasn’t a terrible one, at least not in our area.  Bad enough (not wishing for worse), but definitely not a record-breaker for me.

December is not a good month in which to begin a blog.