Monday, October 23, 2017

Structured Chaos

As I’ve mentioned in a couple of previous posts, my wife and I are in the process of installing a new floor in our house. The on-going mess, constant moving of furniture, and general disarray of the place is a bit annoying but we’re learning to live with it. As for the grandchildren—not so much.

This past weekend, I was told by not one, not two, but three different grandchildren that I really needed to clean my house. One of them in particular was not amused with the bathroom door being removed. And the stacks of boxes of books from the bookshelves, dishes from the hutch, and other knick-knacks are bothersome to kids who are used to having the run of the house when they play—or whatever it is they do—did not impress them.

So, after the several “complaints,” I informed them that I was almost done. I meant with the floor; I’ll still need to put on the baseboards and other trim, put the furniture back in place, and empty all the boxes. Eyeing all of that, one of the grandkids gave me a wide-eyed look and shook his head. “No, you’re not.” he said.

Sadly, he was right. It’ll take another week or more—emphasis on the more—to get everything completed. Longer if I keep taking breaks, like writing blog posts. So, it’s back to work—gotta keep the grandkids happy! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, October 15, 2017

On This Date In 1997

Twenty years ago today, my family and I arrived in our new town—after moving 2000 miles across the country. I can’t believe it’s been that long. But, I double-checked the calendar and it appears it’s so; it has indeed been twenty years. Still, it’s kind of hard to grasp because it seems like just the other day we drove into town in the U-haul. It seems like just yesterday my kids were young, running through the house, playing, laughing—and yelling at the top of their lungs! And now they are all grown. And I have grandkids. How could that be? Where did the time go?

Away, I think—to answer my own rhetorical question. Gone. But not forgotten.

I remember thinking back then how the idea of my kids moving out on their own seemed so far away. That was fine with me because I rather liked my children (still do too). So, while the empty nest thing concerned me, I didn’t really think about it much. I guess I figured there’d be plenty of time to worry about it in the future. Well, the future is now.

Not that the house is empty, really. I’ve made sure to fill it with lots of stuff—junk mostly, according to my wife. Still, it has a certain emptiness. For the most part, I think I deal with it okay. But sometimes. Sometimes, my overactive memory kicks in. My memory that remembers events, facts and figures, along with other useless trivia—and dates. Like today. October 16th. The date we arrived in Oregon. And then, as you can see, I start my trip down Memory Lane. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, October 8, 2017

Sound Of Summer

Anyone remember the ice cream truck? I do, at least when I lived in town, for some reason they didn’t come by my house when we lived five miles out. I was too cheap to buy anything from them usually; I got a lot more for my money at a store. But occasionally, I’d splurge.

In later years, once I had kids, I learned that being cheap was not an option. When the ice cream truck came by, it was a requirement that we buy something EVERY TIME! These days, my grandkids make sure to keep that rule firmly in place. Needless to say, the ice cream truck makes the drive down my street quite often—all summer long.

This past weekend however, there were no grandkids visiting, no one was home except me. I was using the occasion to work on our floor and after several hours of bending over, working on my hands and knees, my bones were complaining that they weren’t as young as they used to be. They seemed to think I should consider a different weekend activity. I ignored them for the most part but every so often, (usually when I stood back up) I thought about how much easier this kind of work was when I was younger. I used to work non-stop all weekend with no ill effects. “I need a time machine,” I told myself.

And that’s when I heard the music. The familiar merry-go-round type music announcing the soon arrival of the ice cream truck! My first thought was that the ice cream man was going to be disappointed since no kids were at my house. But then another thought occurred to me. Maybe the jingly music was the sound of my time machine coming!

In need of a break anyway, I dropped what I was doing and went outside to wait. In just a few a minutes, I was scarfing down my ice cream. The first ice cream I’d bought for myself—from an ice cream truck—in years.

Sadly, I discovered there were no anti-aging effects associated with said ice cream. But it did bring back a few memories of a time long past. So, for a brief moment, I was a kid again.

Oh, and by the way, at $3.00 for one ice cream, I can still get a lot more for my money at a grocery store. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, October 1, 2017

Off To Work

Several years ago, back when I had a normal job with normal hours, I used to sleep until the last possible minute before getting up for work. This was due, in part, to not wanting to go to work but mostly because I stayed up until two or three in the morning. Once I finally decided to go to bed, I didn’t really want to get up.

As a result, I spent nearly every morning in a rush, a rush to get dressed and then in a rush driving to work. I usually arrived right at eight o’clock—or a few minutes late. But most everybody else arrived a little late as well, including the boss so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Still, every once in a while, I’d try to change my ways and get there early.

One particular Monday morning, I set the alarm a half an hour earlier than my customary wakeup time—and actually got up too! Instead of being in a hurry, I took my time getting ready and then drove to work without speeding. On the way, I noticed there wasn’t as much traffic as I usually dealt with and I remember thinking what a difference a few minutes made.

When I pulled into the drive at my job, I was pleased to see that no one else was there yet. Not even the guy who usually opened the place and he got there about six or so. I had beaten everyone! I sat in the car and waited for the others to arrive. And waited. As the clock approached eight and then the minutes ticked by, I began to wonder why no one else had shown up. It took to about twenty after, before I realized why they weren’t there, and why the traffic had been so light—it was a holiday and we, like a lot of other businesses, were not open.

I drove back home, amused, and a little irritated. For once, I’d been early—and it had all been for nothing. There hadn’t even been anyone there to see it. But what’s worse, I could’ve stayed in bed! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Monday, September 25, 2017

Not-So-Old Friends

Went to a friend’s birthday party this past weekend—a friend from high school. We have seen each other relatively few times since the days of our indoctrination, I mean, education. Still, there was no awkward strain or lack of conversation. I walked in and immediately we were getting along like—well, like old friends.

I know that people change, or so I’ve heard, and that after a few years have passed they no longer have much in common. But, although it’s been 35 years since we were in school, aside from physical appearance, neither of us has really changed a whole lot. I suppose some would say that not changing means we haven’t grown up and maybe that is the case. And that’s okay with me. Life is better if everything doesn’t change all the time.

We spent a few hours talking, reminiscing and catching up. And telling stories from our teenage years. I’ve heard that’s the sign of true friendship, when you can go for years without seing each other and pick right up where you left off. And that’s the way it seemed. It was almost like no time had passed—at least for a little bit...

There was a younger person at the party who noticed that we still got along like high school friends. She said, “I hope when I’m old I have a friend like that.”

I think that was supposed to be a compliment, but old? We aren’t THAT old! I didn’t take offense though, just nodded in agreement. “I hope I have a friend like that when I’m old too.” ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Monday, September 18, 2017

A Few More Miles

Several years ago, I took my pickup to the shop. I usually do repair work myself but I had a minor engine problem that I couldn’t figure out. I thought they would diagnose the problem and give it a quick fix—for a nominal fee. Instead, I was told the engine was shot. They said I could expect it to go at any time. But, they were happy to offer to sell me a rebuilt engine and install it for only $4,000.

At the time, the truck had roughly 100,000 miles on it. I chose to ignore their “advice,” had them put it back together and kept driving it.

A few years later, I again took the pickup to the shop—a different shop—this time for a transmission issue. After taking apart the transmission, they told me it was worn out and I would need to get a new one. Wouldn’t last more than a couple of thousand miles, they said. They quoted me a price of $2,500 to have it replaced.

By this time, the truck had 175,000 miles. Again, I chose to ignore their “advice,” had them put it back together and kept driving it.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I started having more problems. The truck wouldn’t shift right. I tried a few cheap fixes but nothing worked. At first, I was stubborn and chose to keep driving it. Then reluctantly, I admitted it was maybe time for a new pickup. After all, I can’t expect a vehicle to last forever. Still, I wasn’t happy about it.

But then I found the perfect truck, almost a duplicate of my old one but four years newer. So, I bought it and kept the old one for parts—and partly because I just didn’t want to get rid of it. Yeah, I’m still a little saddened that it broke. But I can’t say I wasn’t warned the transmission and engine wouldn’t last. They were right too, I suppose—sort of. Did I mention the pickup now has 317,000 miles? And aside from the annoying shifting issue, it is still going. I’m thinking both places were just trying to rip me off, which is why I prefer to do my own mechanic work. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, September 10, 2017

The End Of The Road

Due to the fires mentioned in last week’s post. The freeway (the normal route I drive for my job) was closed on Monday. So, I had to take an alternate route. Problem is, the alternate route is over Mt. Hood. Usually when I take this road, it’s in the middle of the winter and the abundance of snow combined with the extra miles, along with the slow climb, adds two to three hours to my run, and instead of making two trips, I can make only one.

This time though, it is summer and no snow—on the road anyway, the peak of the mountain is nearly always covered. So, I was figuring the detour would only cost me an hour and a half or so. I’d still be only able to make one trip but I’d get home sooner. Things went well on the first half of the trip but on my way back...

Rounding a corner, somewhere up on the mountain, I saw a bountiful display of flashing red lights shining in the night sky. As I drove closer, I could see the massive tree blocking the entire highway. With no way through, the police had coned off the road and were directing traffic onto a side road. Making the turn, I saw a parking lot that would do nicely to bypass the tree but it too, was coned off. So, with no other options, I followed two other semis up this narrow, winding mountain road. The further we went, the worse the road became. All three of us were becoming a little apprehensive but still hoping the road would lead back to the highway at some point we kept going. It wasn’t like we really had a choice; there was nowhere to turn around.

About two miles into our side trip, the lead driver saw a small road cutting up the hill to the left (a sharp left) and decided this would be a good turning around point. A good idea—if there had actually been room. It took only a few seconds for his truck to get high centered on the trailer’s landing gear. And there he sat, truck jackknifed across both roads, unable to move. He called a tow truck, and we all waited.

Meanwhile, a couple who lived in the area showed up, wanting to go down the road. While the other two drivers discussed (loudly) their rotten luck, I chose a more pragmatic approach—talking to the people in the car. The conversation proved to be rather helpful!

I learned the road we were on did not lead back to the highway. But, they said, up ahead about four miles was a pull off where we MIGHT be able to turn around. When I was hesitant over the “might,” they offered to give me a ride to see what I thought. After seeing the place, I decided there was enough room to make the turn—barely.

Back at the blocked intersection, I assured the other two drivers we’d be out of this mess in no time, providing Mr. High-Centered got out of the way at some point. Surprisingly, it didn’t take the tow truck long to arrive. As soon as we had room to squeeze by, the other driver and I headed on our way.

When we got to the turn around point, the guy in front of me stopped, not convinced he’d have enough room. But with a small wooden bridge ahead, a bridge we would crush, it seemed to be as far as we could go. For us, the road had ended. I should mention that backing down a rough and curvy mountain road, with the possibility of other vehicles coming up the hill, was not really a viable solution. Worst-case scenario, I’d do it but I’d really rather not; we had to turn around. However, about halfway through my turn, I was thinking backing down would have been a better choice. As you’ve probably guessed—since I’m back to civilization and able to post to this blog—we made it. But if the space had been even a couple of inches more narrow, we wouldn’t have. And just let me add, it’s not the best feeling, jockeying a semi back and forth with the trailer tires only inches from a cliff. For those who may not know, when a semi is turned sharp enough, the trailer actually backs up—while the cab is going forward, which made things a little harrowing. For a brief moment, I had my hand on the door handle, ready to bail.

But, all is well that ends well, or so I’ve heard. And in a few minutes, we were headed back to the highway. The tree was still blocking the road but by this time the police had figured out to route traffic through the parking lot—yeah, the one I thought would make a great bypass in the first place. The little adventure, that had cost me an hour and a half, could have been avoided. I ended up getting home about my regular time. But such is the life of a truck driver. On the bright side, at least the unplanned excursion gave me something to write about! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, September 3, 2017

Burning Memories

I’ve heard that history repeats itself, and I’m thinking that may be true. I started this blog in September of 2011, six years ago. At the time, I only planned to do it for a year or so. But here we are in 2017 and it’s become a regular Sunday night ritual; write something, type it up, and post it to the blog.

Sometimes I’m not really sure what to write about, not sure anything I have to say will be interesting to anyone. Other times, I feel inspired and write way too much—as my wife makes sure to tell me!

So today, I was wondering what to write and walked out on my deck to think—and saw the smoke. Lots of smoke, filling the sky. That’s really nothing new; the last couple of months we’ve seen quite a lot of smoky skies. But, since I was thinking of my blog, the smoke reminded me of my very first post—Fire Season.

I went back and read the post and although it’s six years old, it sounds almost like I’m describing the current conditions. But then, we have fires every year so that’s not too surprising. Still, it definitely seems like history is repeating itself. And so, in keeping with that theme, I’ve re-posted the first post below.


Smoke to the west. No black ominous billows, just a brownish tinged haze mixed with dingy white puffy clouds rising into the clear blue summer sky. A brushfire most likely, or maybe grass. Winds are particularly light at 5 mph. No cause for alarm, fire fighters will have the blaze extinguished in short order.

This is the fourth fire this week within sight of my house. The others were put out in less than a day causing no major damage, rather remarkable considering the high wind area and extremely dry conditions. This is all typical for the arid climate of the central Oregon high desert, but this year has been fairly mild with relatively few fires. The surrounding landscape is only slightly marred with the grayish black sooty remains of sparse vegetation.

And now, the September air is turning cooler reminding us that the fall rains will be returning soon, marking an end of the fire season, a.k.a. summer. The good news is that we’ve all survived with our personal property mostly intact. The bad news is winter is on its way, which means snow—and lots of it. The frozen white crystals will cover the ground, blanket the sagebrush and juniper trees, and decorate the distant mountain ranges, creating a picturesque scene of majestic grandeur.

Admittedly, the snow is pretty but snow brings its own set of problems - the cold, the slick roads and resulting wrecks, the roof cave-ins, and avalanches, which can potentially destroy entire areas in an instant. Yet, despite its foreboding and destructive nature, snow is a necessary evil. It provides the high desert with a vital water supply for the coming summer months in a region prone to draught. Aside from the usual benefits of drinking, cooking and cleaning, we’re gonna need the water—to put out the fires! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Monday, August 28, 2017

Out In The Sun Too Long?

Good news! I survived the eclipse! And, I assume, if you’re reading this you survived as well. Or not. I have no definitive proof that my blog isn’t read by the dearly departed; though common sense says no. Speaking of common sense, I’m pretty sure that’s a rare form of thinking on the verge of extinction.

Standing in a long line at the store the other day, I heard a guy say he’d like to view the next solar eclipse from the perspective of the sun—looking back toward the Earth. He told us he was already checking into travel arrangements. Okay, then.

Apparently, the guy has never heard how far away the sun is. (Not to mention the availability of flights to the sun is sort of limited. Severely limited. As in none.) I guess he’s never heard how hot the sun is either. And that, even if he could somehow manage to get there and not burn up, trying to find the Earth would be rather difficult.

I didn’t say anything because well, the only things I could think of were not polite! (Yes, I do know how to be polite—at times). However, another guy in line wasn’t as nice. “You’re joking right?”

The would-be space traveler insisted he certainly was not. The two of them argued the finer points traveling to the sun for a few minutes before the sane one gave up. Looking at me, he rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. I just nodded—with a smirk on my face, I’m sure.

And that would be the real reason I chose to not get involved in the conversation; a rational and reasonable person stands no chance against utter insanity—and after listening to Solar Man talk, I’m convinced he wasn’t dealing with a full deck. What’s worse though, is there were at least a couple of people in line who seemed to agree with him. See why I say common sense is in danger of becoming lost forever?

I know the eclipse is over but I think these people are still very much in the dark. On a related note: marijuana use is now legal in Oregon! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, August 20, 2017

The Dark Side Of The Sun

Did someone mention something about a solar eclipse? Think I heard that somewhere—amid all the dire warnings of how Oregon’s economy is going to crash. The theory was a sudden influx of a million or more people would strain supply chains, such as food, gas, ATM’s, as well as disrupt phone and Internet service. Traffic was also a big concern. All this of course was supposed to lead to much mayhem and chaos with a possible failure of the power grid. The total eclipse would bring total destruction—if one listened to the nitwits in charge. They, and the so-called experts, were predicting some very dark days.

I agree that a million additional people crammed into a small area would cause a few problems, temporarily (in a few days, things would go back to normal). I just didn’t think that many would actually show up. And apparently, they didn’t. Sure, the cities in the direct line for the full effect of the eclipse have a few visitors. I’ve seen pictures, and there are a lot of people, but nowhere close to what was expected. And so far, there have been no ill effects, at least not in my neck of the woods. In fact, I saw virtually no difference in traffic levels, or anything else, in the last few days.

Granted, Monday afternoon may be a different story—when those people who did show up all leave at once. But that will be short-lived. By the time I get home from work late Monday night—or early Tuesday morning, depending on your perspective—I’m thinking they will be long gone.

Since the event is taking place near my house, I will get up early to view it. But I’m not driving the two hours it would take to see the eclipse in its totality. I might think differently had I not already witnessed a total eclipse—in the very town in which I now live—back in 1979.

I remember it well and as I recall, the only thing that happened then was it got dark for a few minutes during the day. I’m guessing that this time, history may repeat itself—the day will turn dark, then light again, and it will be over. No catastrophic calamities. But I could be wrong. The disastrous devastation may eclipse all expectations. I’ll let you know next week—if I’m still here. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Monday, August 14, 2017

In A Fix

So, my wife has decided we need to replace the carpet in our house. And, as you can imagine, “we” means me. Which is fine. She does help when I need something, but I’m quite content to do the work.

What I’m having trouble with is the “replacing” aspect—especially since she wants to replace our carpet with simulated hardwood vinyl flooring. I don’t mind the simulated or vinyl part necessarily; I would just prefer to have carpet. I like carpet. It’s warm and cozy, and a little quieter to walk on. And to me, carpet looks better.

Actually, if it were up to me, I’d probably just leave the carpet we have. Less work that way. And why replace perfectly good carpet? However, since my wife also lives in the house, I shall defer to her and not only replace the carpet but replace it with vinyl.

And that’s how I came to spend my Saturday night ripping out carpet and prepping the floor. And in doing so, realized my wife may have been on to something with this replacing the carpet idea. Not that I had much of an argument against it; after 18 years it was starting to wear a bit. Or a lot. The kids, grandkids, and dogs, not to mention me with my muddy boots tracking dirt in, have all taken their toll. Even I had to admit it was well beyond time for a new floor—and that vinyl plank flooring might not be so bad.

However, convincing my three-year-old grandson is another matter. Apparently, he’s a little like his grandfather and not a big advocate of change. When he came into the house on Sunday, he was almost distraught at the thought of “his” carpet going away. “Put it back,” he told me. We explained the carpet was old, dirty, and needed replacing. He finally agreed that we could replace the carpet but he wanted new carpet NOT something else. “You can get a new floor without CHANGING it,” he says.

After a little more discussion, we thought the matter was settled. But a few hours later, after finishing our Sunday dinner at a restaurant, he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of going back to our house. “Is the carpet going to be back?” he wanted to know.

I said no and told him it was outside in my pickup, ready to get hauled away. He seemed mollified at that—since there was still time to make his case, I assume. The kid will probably grow up to be a lawyer because he is great at presenting a well-reasoned argument for just about anything.

So, I think I’ve found my wife’s role in this undertaking—she gets to negotiate with the grandkid. Perhaps she can work out a deal—or a plea bargain. As for me, I’ll be busy working on the floor. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, August 6, 2017

Time Traveler

So, I got a call from the future the other day. From my son. Really! Actually, he calls from the future quite often.

This is particularly noteworthy because when he was about 6 or 7 years old, he was obsessed with time travel. He read books on the subject, studied them to be more accurate, and discussed—at length—building a time machine with a guy in our church after nearly every service. Time travel was one of his many interests early in life. But, it was a dream he eventually gave up on when he discovered it would take far more power than he could possibly amass. Theoretically possible, but it just wasn’t feasible.

Yet, when he got older, he did find a way to travel to the future—and he calls me frequently just to prove it. You’d think he’d give me a hot stock tip or something. Maybe help me out with knowing when to stay home from work to miss a winter storm. That would be nice. But he never does. Perhaps that sort of thing might be against the rules, I don’t know.

Okay, I know many of you are reading this with a frown on your face. Probably thinking I’ve finally lost it. “Time travel isn’t real,’ I’m sure you’re saying.

Oh, but it is. How, you ask?

Simple really. At least the way my son does it is simple—he moved to a different time zone and is always an hour ahead of me. Except when he comes to visit and travels back in time—and then he goes back to the future. And all it takes is a tank of gas! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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Sunday, July 30, 2017

Mr. Clean

Spent over eight hours cleaning house on Saturday—and it wasn’t that messy! Well, that may be a little misleading. It was kind of messy. Maybe a little more than that.

The thing is, it shouldn’t have been messy at all. My wife is away visiting her family—has been for nearly three weeks. So, it’s just the dogs and me. And aside from the weekends, I’m hardly home. So, the house shouldn’t have been messy.

I guess I could blame it all on the dogs—I’d like to blame it on the dogs. But that would be unfair to the little creatures because the truth is, while they may have contributed in some small way, the majority of the mess came from me.

It’s a rude awakening to find out—at age 50— that I’m a very untidy person. Honestly, 8 loads of laundry, two loads of dishes through the dishwasher, the floors were starting to look I lived in a barn with all the dirt they’d collected, and the clutter through the rest of the house was reaching record levels. All this from a guy who spends a measly three hours a day at home—not counting my sleep time. It’s almost astonishing how I could make such a mess!

But, it’s all clean now. Good thing too, as my wife will be coming home soon. And she had the house nice and clean before she left! I’m hoping she gets home while the place is still presentable as I’m not sure how long I can maintain my uncharacteristic decorum. I’d hate for her to discover her husband’s woeful housekeeping skills, things could get messy! Although, after thirty years of marriage, I’m thinking she already knows. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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