Monday, May 22, 2017

Color Correction

On my travels this week, I noticed the mountains were turning brown. Finally! With all the rain we’ve had around here this spring, the place was starting to look like Ireland! That’s fine, I suppose—if you’re in Ireland. Where I live, not so much. Green just doesn’t look right for what is supposed to be an arid climate. Instead of forty shades of green, we have forty shades of brown—usually.

So, it’s nice that things are starting to dry out. Although, there is still plenty of green to be seen. But I figure another couple of weeks and that will be gone. I hope. It’s past time for the weather to get back to normal. At least in my never-to-be-humble opinion.

Of course, there is always someone to disagree with my opinion.

The other day, I overheard a guy in the store complaining about how dry the ground was getting. Apparently, his grass has all died. I was thinking, Yeah, that’s why we water our lawns. But I didn’t say anything. Surprising, I know. But sometimes I figure it’s no use to speak up. Especially, when the guy wasn’t talking to me.

Turns out, I didn’t have to say anything, though. Someone else did. And then, after listening a bit more, I found out the guy had recently moved here, and didn’t know what our summers were like. And evidently, he wasn’t too fond of the prospect of having to water his grass as he kept voicing his objection to the idea.

One of the guys he was talking with said, “You don’t HAVE to water the lawn. You can always let it burn up or put in rocks.”

“Or move back to where you came from,” another voice said. (No the voice wasn’t mine, although it does sound like something I would say.)

“I’d rather it just wasn’t so dry here, the newcomer said.

“If you think it’s dry now, just wait a couple of months,” another person said.

I still didn’t say anything but I was wondering how could the guy not have known what the climate was like? Did he move here without knowing anyone in the area? Possibly. But then, wouldn’t he have seen pictures of the place? Shouldn’t he have maybe read up on things? Perhaps at some point in his moving preparation shouldn’t he have checked out the place to where he was moving? Even if he hadn’t done any of that, he could have just looked around. There are a lot of yards with only rocks. Or he could’ve taken a look at the surrounding landscape, that should’ve been a clue. Oh, wait–

That’s when I remembered. And I guess I should cut him a little slack. After all, the place has looked a lot like Ireland this spring. ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads





Monday, May 15, 2017

Just Playing Games

Well, I survived Mother’s Day! That may not sound like a big accomplishment but that’s because you don’t know my wife. She got the bright idea that this year for Mother’s Day, instead of going out to a restaurant, like normal people, our family should meet at the park. That would have been okay but then after eating she thought we could play kickball and other games equally energy draining.

Apparently, she didn’t get the memo that we’re getting older. Not that we’re senior citizens yet but as our Mother’s Day outing proved, we’re too old to play kickball. I guess it wouldn’t have been so bad except I have this competitive nature and HAVE to put forth the effort because at the end of the game, win or lose, I have to know that I gave it all I had. And yesterday, I learned that “all I had” meant to the point of exhaustion—almost. I didn’t faint or anything. But I must admit, fainting just might have been a welcomed relief!

Funny, I don’t remember sports, especially something so benign as kickball, requiring that much energy when I was younger. Or making my legs and feet ache. Or causing such an out-of-breath experience. When I played sports in school, five minutes after the game was over, I was fine and ready to play again.

But times change. Now, a short little game of kickball is enough to make me cancel all the plans I had for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of the week!

To be honest though, the day was fun. The games were fun. And I had a good time. I think everyone else did too, because there was a lot of laughing and cheering going on. Of course, most of the other participants were not 50 years old either!

Yet, even as I was admitting to my wife that despite the worn out feeling I’d enjoyed the day, she (and a few others) were suggesting we all do this again. Again? Really? Really, they said.

They didn’t decide just when we’d get together again but might I suggest Mother’s Day? That way, I have a year to rest up. Although, I’m not too sure that’s enough time. ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads





Monday, May 8, 2017

Not Exactly A Star Student

A clear night. Bright moon. I’m out on the deck looking up at the stars and remembering when I was a kid. I used to lie on the ground and stare up at the stars, trying to find things in the giant dot to dot in the sky. I was never very good at seeing the real constellations, so I made up my own. I saw all sorts of things; animals, faces, furniture, and cars. Once I even discovered a house complete with windows, a chimney, and trees.

Then I made the mistake of mentioning my findings at school. Most of my friends were uninterested in what I saw and ignored me. But my teacher thought had to set me straight. Apparently, only those constellations that had long been established were viable constellations. The things I saw in the sky were nothing and due to an overactive imagination.

Of course, I argued that at one time even the established constellations had been someone’s imagination. But it was no use; my teacher maintained that those constellations had been discovered by legitimate astronomers, people who had devoted their life to the study of the stars. And those constellations were actual groupings of stars with meaning and a purpose.

As luck would have it, later in the year, we had a short study on constellations. We learned that most of the constellations got their names from the common things people thought they looked like—or characters from mythology. The last part was what I chose to focus on.

“So, they are named after myths?” I asked. “As in something not real?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I have an overactive imagination?”

I don’t think my teacher was impressed with my questions. But she must have realized it would be a losing argument. She quickly finished up and moved on. When we got our papers back from that day, I took mine up to her desk to discuss my grade.

The teacher looked confused. “You got an ‘A,’ what more do you want?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, a gold star?” 

No, she still wasn't amused. ~

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.

______________________________


Current Reads





Sunday, April 30, 2017

May Day Mayday

Today is May Day. But is that still a thing? Does anyone still practice it? Does anyone besides old fogies like me even know what it is?

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about a mariner’s distress call—that would be mayday. I’m speaking of the long past custom of, on the first day of May, placing flowers on someone’s doorstep, ringing the bell and then running away before they answer the door—known as May Day.

When I was a kid, this was fairly common. We did it every year, sometimes to more than one person. It was fun, not only for me but I’m pretty sure the people who got the flowers enjoyed it as well. But it’s been years since I’ve heard of anyone engaging in the May Day practice.

Perhaps the tradition died off because there isn’t an app for it. If it can’t be done on a phone or tablet, no one is interested. And May Day does require a bit, just a bit, of physical activity, instead of merely clicking on a button.

Or, perhaps the custom went away due to another reason. With the growing trend these days of characterizing harmless activities as destructive or even villainous, I can see the whole May Day thing being labeled as criminal mischief or some such illegal behavior. And I can hear some “concerned” official explaining how frightening such a thing could be for a little old lady who lives alone. (Nevermind that if she’s older than 40 or so, she’s probably quite familiar with May Day).

I seriously doubt that anyone would be frightened by receiving flowers in such a manner. And I also have my doubts that any criminal is going to take the time to arrange a nice bouquet of flowers and then go to the trouble of delivering those flowers to his “victim.” Criminals usually don’t want to put that much work into anything.

But for argument’s sake, let’s say that some poor old woman is scared out of her wits by finding a bouquet at her door. If she really believed she was in danger, couldn’t she just send out a mayday call? Sorry, I guess I was talking about May Day in the sense of a distress call after all. ~

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.

Monday, April 24, 2017

A Moving Story

Well, the state of Idaho is still where it has always been. Just went and checked this weekend because apparently driving 3600 miles a week is not enough; I had to add another 600 or so.

Okay, I really didn’t make a trip to Idaho just to see if it was still there. My wife and I went to help our son move. After I finished my run on Friday, I slept about four hours before we headed out.

Lucky for us, a few other people had already pitched in to help the kid move (including my dad who was in the area) and by the time we arrived most of the heavy lifting had been done. We helped pick up all the little things that a guy thinks aren’t going to take long. But then, there turns out to be a lot more of them and things drag on. Then, there was the cleaning of the old apartment—and a few chores at the new place as well.

I did manage to get a few hours of sleep Saturday night but then spent most of the day Sunday finishing up. Then, it was time to go driving again! Yay! But at least the kid (the kid, who is 22 years old, so not much of a kid anymore) is all moved. It’s now a little past midnight on Monday morning. We just made it home and I think I shall try to get a little sleep because for some reason, I’m tired! ~

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.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

How To Stop A Thief

So, my neighbor’s house got broken into last week. No, I didn’t do it! Although... The police did come to visit me. But only to ask if I’d seen anything about 10:30 on the night in question.

“Well, no,” I told the cop. “It’s dark at that time and I can’t see in the dark.”

He seemed to have no sense of humor and his frowning gaze suggested he thought I shouldn’t have one either. And since I had no information for him, he appeared eager to leave, so I decided to play a little game—just to see how much information he would give to me. Not much, it turns out. I learned the break-in was in the back of the house, the people weren’t home, and that the police were not sure what was taken. Which seemed to indicate SOMETHING had been taken—even though, he didn’t exactly say that.

Then, he said something about additional burglaries in the area. Now I was the one with no sense of humor!

Whether he was referring to actual incidents or hoping to prevent future ones, I’m not sure. And he didn’t really elaborate when I asked—just offered me the standard, run-of-the-mill advice, as in: Make sure to keep all windows and doors locked, don’t leave valuables out in plain sight, keep a few lights on, etc.

That’s all nice, I guess, but it doesn’t really help catch anyone responsible if my stuff gets stolen. And judging by the lack of effectiveness of the police (in the case of my neighbor) there’s not much of a guarantee they’d be all that helpful either.

On a related note, my new security camera should arrive in a day or two. No, it probably won’t deter anyone from breaking in, but at least I might be able to identify the culprits if they do. It’s one of those nifty little cameras that I can control from my phone with all sorts of features that I’ll probably never use. The feature I would like to install is an artillery attachment! But I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be kosher with, well, anyone. But it probably would stop the break-ins! For a while anyway. ~

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.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Snakes!

Saw my first rattlesnake of the season the other day. At last! Spring is here!

Okay, I admit, I really don’t like snakes. I much prefer other indicators of spring like: robins, budding trees, and warmer temperatures but after an unusual long and drawn out winter, a rattlesnake was a welcomed sight. Snakes are far better than the icy roads and the bitter cold. I do reserve the right to change my mind on this later in the year—when the whole snake population of the countryside comes out to play!

Not that I’ll be ready for winter again but I’m thinking the excitement of seeing a snake will likely taper off. Did I mention I don’t really like snakes? In fact, I usually kill every snake I run across. But oddly, the one I saw the other day is still slithering around somewhere—at least it was when I last saw it. Either I’m getting lazy or I’m really happy that summer is on its way. Both maybe.

Still, the fact that I didn’t kill this snake is somewhat strange. I know, some people get all uptight when I mentioned killing something, even snakes. They’re usually the ones who say something like, “But snakes help control the mice population.”

And they are correct. Snakes do help get rid of mice. But might I suggest a purchase of Decon? Just a thought.

One person I said that to spluttered back, “Well, snakes are God’s creatures too!” As if that means I have to let them live. But aren’t mice God’s creatures as well? Yet, the guy seemed okay with the mice dying.

“That may be,” I told him, “but uh, I really don’t like snakes.” Unless of course, they are the first sign of spring—apparently. ~

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.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Fifty Years Ago Today...

Fifty years. Half a century. Once again, it’s my birthday! Yes, I am now officially old, as my grandkids have made sure I’m aware. I really don’t think they needed the occasion of my birthday to make their point; they seemed to have the same opinion when I was 49. Trouble is, I fear they may have a point now! How did this happen? Sometimes it’s hard to believe. Seems like just the other day, I was a kid. And I remember it all very well.

But while I have a fairly decent memory, strangely, I do not recall anything about my birth, although I’m quite certain I was there. Positive almost. Still, I have no recollection of the momentous occasion.

Since I can’t relate any of the details, I had planned to share some pearls of wisdom; things I’ve learned in my fifty years on the planet—then I realized I don’t really have any because the older I get, the less I know. Maybe it’ll turn around now though and over the next fifty years, I’ll learn something. Hopefully it does, because if not, and things continue as they have been, I’ll be completely devoid of knowledge by the time I reach 100 I’m afraid.

But that’s okay, I guess. I doubt I’ll need to know much at that age. And it probably wouldn’t do any good if I did know things; no one would care, or listen, and I’d be too old to use any of it.

In light of all that, I’m not convinced birthdays are not really that meaningful; they haven’t as yet made me any smarter, but they have dramatically contributed to the aging effect—gray hair, increased aches and pains and the like. Of course, birthdays ARE significant in one respect—I’m still alive and kicking!

I guess that’s the only bit of wisdom that I can impart... "Birthdays may be the leading cause of aging but they are one of the best indicators that a guy is still alive!"

Okay, I’ll stop rambling now and start celebrating as the clock just struck midnight. It’s now April 3rd and I’m... fifty years old! ~

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.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

An Early Autumn?

While everyone else was celebrating the arrival of Spring last week, I went straight to Fall...

I can’t really explain how this happened because, well, I’m not really sure. Here’s what I know: On Tuesday morning, I let one of my dogs out but apparently, I was supposed to stay inside. At least I SHOULD have stayed inside. Hindsight never really helped prevent anything though.

I took two steps (I think) out the door and the next thing I knew, I was hitting the deck—literally. I barely had time to be aware of the sudden jolt of landing (on my back) when my head slammed back onto the deck and everything went black.

I’m not sure how long I was out. Not long I don’t think, but then, it’s kind of hard to tell. When I came to, everything was a little hazy, I wasn’t even aware of the rain until later realizing I was soaked. I do remember reaching up to see if the back of my head was still intact. It was!

But then, I tried to get up and that didn’t really work. I called to my wife through the still open door. She came and helped me to my feet and after a bit of effort got me back inside the house.

Once I was able to stand on my own, my wife and I went through a series of tests to see if I was physically well and of a sound mind. (I know, that last part is questionable even under the best of conditions). Among the tests of mobility, balance, ability to focus, and talk, was a memory test—long term and short term. During the memory tests, I rattled off various strings of numbers such as: my driver’s license number, social security number, bank account number, etc. This turned out to be a useless endeavor though, since my wife had no idea if the numbers were right. So, I recited HER social security number to which she replied, “I think that’s it.”

“Really?” I said. “Whose memory are we testing here?”

We finally decided I was fine—sort of. My memory was okay and after regaining my wits after waking up from the fall, there seemed to be nothing amiss. Thankfully, there were no broken bones—as far as I could tell. But I did seem to have a lot of pain, which only worsened when I moved. For the next several days, the pain continued—every bone and muscle in my body was sore. Everything except my head. Strangely, that didn’t hurt at all. But then, everyone already knew I was hard headed! ~

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.


______________________________


Current Reads






Monday, March 20, 2017

Roses Are Red, And Orange, White, Yellow, Purple, And...

I like roses. Lots of roses with a lot of colors. And since long ago my wife told me that buying her roses was a waste of money (because they die), I “invested” in rose bushes for the house. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the front of our house is lined with rose bushes—twenty-two to be exact. These used to make almost a solid hedge of hundreds of different colored roses. Sadly, after eighteen years, some of the bushes are not producing like they once did. This leaves big gaps with no flowers, which doesn’t look good at all.

So, this year, I decided to replace them. Originally, when I put them in, it wasn’t that much work. And at $1.99 per rose bush, not that expensive either. Ah, but things change.

First, I made a trip to the store and promptly came down with a bad case of sticker shock. I know we’re told there has been virtually no inflation for the last couple of decades but the roses tell quite a different story. They were on sale and still $5.99 each. I quickly made the decision to replace only the worst bushes and save the rest for later. I ended up buying only nine.

Then, on Sunday afternoon I started digging out the old bushes. It didn’t take long to realize it would be a little longer job than I had anticipated. The roots were six to eight inches in diameter and being underground, I didn’t really want to use a Sawzall. So, I chipped away at them with a spade shovel.

Five hours later, I was done. The new bushes set and the yard cleaned up. And only two blisters on my hands! Not bad but I had planned on maybe an hour for the whole job. Although, that’s typically what happens when I schedule time for anything—it always takes longer. Usually not five times longer though. And now, I’m a little tired. Not used to all this manual labor stuff!

But, the job is done now and even looks pretty decent. Soon, with the help of Miracle Grow, we’ll have our hedge of colorful roses back. At least that’s the idea. The bad news is, I still have several bushes to replace. The good news is, not until next year! ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads






Monday, March 13, 2017

Bad Timing

I feel like I’ve been gypped. No, it doesn’t involve money, or even property. No one stole anything tangible from me. What I’ve lost is time. And I don’t mean because I’m getting old. Besides, I’m not really that old yet, despite what my kids, and grandkids, may think.

The time I’m speaking of is relatively insignificant—at least in the amount. But it’s the principle of the thing that matters. And this past weekend I was robbed of an hour of my time. A full hour! I know, it happens every year and normally, it wouldn’t be that upsetting to me. (Although, I’m pretty sure I’ve complained about it before). But this year... well, I picked the wrong time for a three-day weekend.

Due to the time change, instead of getting my full 84 hours off, as I would for a typical three-day weekend, I will only be receiving 83. Sad, I know. Woe is me.

I mentioned this to some of the guys at work last Friday, and for some reason, got no sympathy. None. Perhaps it was my lack of communication skills but I couldn’t make them see that my weekend would be coming up short. They just didn’t get it. One of them even had the audacity to suggest I be happy that I didn’t have to show up for work on Monday! Well okay, I AM happy about that.

Still, there’s the matter of the missing hour. An hour of my life that is just gone, and I didn’t even get to live it! Received nothing in exchange for it either, it simply vanished. I think the only way to avoid feeling ripped off, is to schedule another three-day weekend, approximately six months from now. Yep, think I’ll do that as soon as I go back to work—on Tuesday! ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads






Sunday, March 5, 2017

Three-Year-Old Logic

So, I have a cold again, or maybe still, not quite sure. It’s never really left all winter. Just when I start feeling better, here it comes again. This time it’s returned with a vengeance. Coughing, itchy and watery eyes, sneezing, runny nose and then a stopped up nose, sinus pressure, sore throat, the whole bit. I’m sure I don’t need to describe what a cold is like—at least not to most people.

However, my three-year-old grandson seemed to have a little confusion over it. We were in the grocery store last night and he wanted me to push him really fast in the cart. When I said I didn’t have the energy to run because I had a cold, he instantly offered to warm me up. He rubbed his hands over my arms and shoulders and then asked if I was still cold.

I explained that I wasn’t really cold; that what I’d meant was I was sick. That turned out to be a mistake. His next questions were, “Do you need to go to the hospital? Are you dying?”

I told him I would be fine, that it was just a cold. And then tried again (unsuccessfully) to explain what a cold was. He gave me a look that said he thought I was perhaps sicker than I’d realized: talking in circles and not making any sense.

Later at home, as I sat in the chair and watched while he played, he suddenly asked, “Are you okay?” I must have looked as miserable as I felt but I assured him I was fine. He said, “You’re not cold anymore?”

Again, I went through what a cold was and that it didn’t necessarily mean someone was cold when they said they had a cold. “Oh,” he said, as if it all made perfect sense now. Then immediately he asked, “So why is it called a cold then?”

I remember wondering that myself when I was a kid. I shrugged. “Just to make people like you ask questions, I guess.”

“Grandpa,” he said, with a stern look. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is an answer,” I said. “Maybe not a good one but I don’t want to try explaining anything else tonight.”

“Because you have a cold?”

“Yeah,” I said, thinking we were right back where we’d started. I’m not sure the night was all that productive in the learning category! ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads





Monday, February 27, 2017

February Thaw

Saturday. The weekend. The sky was clear and sunny, temperature in the upper forties, and very little wind. A perfect day—for this time of year. And with most of the snow now gone, a perfect day to spend outdoors.

As you might expect, there were plenty of people out and about, enjoying the long awaited break in the wintery weather. It was good to hear the sounds of spring. While I didn’t hear any lawn mowers, people were busy cleaning, doing yard work, building things, working on cars, etc. Some were just hanging out, doing nothing. I think everyone shared the same sentiment; just glad to have something other than snow and cold.

Even the birds seemed happy and cheerful. They were chirping away, flying from tree to tree, occasionally landing on the ground, and then doing a little dance. I think they were surprised, and relieved, that the snow was all gone. They seemed in awe of the fact they could actually see the ground!

The sunshine definitely appeared to brighten the day—in more ways than one.

So, what did I do on this perfect day? Well, after taking about fifteen minutes to change the oil in my wife’s car, I worked inside. Yep, inside. The rest of the day. Sad, I know. But I did get a lot done; things that had to be done. And I was able to see the sunshine through the window! Still, inside is not the place to be on a perfect day. Not to worry though. After an unusually long winter, there are plenty of things waiting to be done outside as well. However, those things will have to wait. How long? Not sure. Until the next perfect day, I guess. ~

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.

______________________________


Current Reads




Monday, February 20, 2017

Slick Trick

I thought winter was over. Yes, I know it’s still February, but after a few days of good roads, I was hopeful. Sadly, this past Tuesday night I learned winter was not quite finished yet.

As a truck driver for the last twenty-some years, I’ve come to despise winter. Driving on slick roads every day can get old. Worse yet, it’s making me old, I think. What hair I have left is turning gray, and whether it’s accurate or not, I’m blaming the winter driving.

But back to my story. I was almost done with my run, only about 50 miles to go, when the rain started. The temperature was 27 degrees. I kept up my speed for a few miles but when the sides of the road began sparkling, I decided to back it down a little.

I was catching up to another truck and debating on whether or not to pass. Knowing there was a bridge coming up—a bridge that is notoriously slick, and built on a curve—I slowed down more and stayed behind the guy. We were traveling about 30 mph and all was well.

But the car that had been rapidly gaining on us didn’t slow down. The driver passed us both and pulled back into the right lane. Then about a half mile ahead, just before he crossed the bridge I saw the brake lights come on. And that’s when all the fun began.

As the car did a few 360’s in the middle of the freeway, the other truck and I slowed down as much as we could (without using the brakes). The car came to a stop right on the dotted line but left us enough room to squeeze by—barely. We were now moving about 5 mph and that would prove to be too fast.

I saw the truck in front of me start sliding the moment he hit the bridge. His trailer turned sideways and he drifted to the left side of the bridge. At this point, I still had a little control and I moved al the way to the right, trying to avoid him. But then I crossed onto the bridge and at 5 mph started a slow slide to the left with my trailer fishtailing behind me. And there wasn’t a thing I could do.

Just to give you a feel for the situation, I’m in a 100,000 lb rig, on a bridge, sliding to the edge, with no control. I couldn’t steer or accelerate, and I knew better than to hit the brakes. And at this time of year, I was pretty sure the water below was COLD.

It’s funny how things slow down at times like this. Of course, at 5 mph, I was barely moving anyway but still...  As everything slowed down, I had time to consider my options, which came down to either: jump out or keep going and hope for the best. One thing I knew, I most certainly didn’t want to stop. I’d be a sitting duck when more traffic showed up, which could be at any moment. And since I didn’t really want to jump out, I kept my foot on the throttle. But with no traction, that may have been pointless.

I saw the truck in front of me slam into the side of the bridge and then start sliding the other way. Figuring that was as good a plan as any, I turned my wheel all the way to the right, hoping the tire stuck out past the fender. (No need to go smashing up the truck unnecessarily). I wasn’t sure but it seemed to work and bouncing off the guardrail, I joined the tuck ahead of me in sliding to the right.

We proceeded all the way across the bridge like that, bouncing our way to the other side. Thankfully, no other traffic came by. Once off the bridge, we could get a little traction. By little, I mean we got up to about 10 mph, then slowly climbed to 15 mph. We couldn’t go any faster. And that was fine with me. I was no longer in that much of a hurry. Apparently, neither was the other driver.

Two hours later, I finished my run without any further incidents. Once the truck was parked, I checked for damage and there was none! Not even any marks on the tires!
So, all in all, a good night!

Later, I started thinking how the car that wrecked probably saved me. If I’d hit that bridge at 30 mph, I doubt the flimsy guardrail would have been much of a hindrance. Most likely, the truck would have plowed right through it on its way to the river below.

I was already wishing winter was over, and now, more so. But, this week’s forecast calls for... snow. And more freezing rain. Yay! ~

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.

______________________________


Current Reads




Sunday, February 12, 2017

Gross Negligence

I really should be fully awake before attempting things like brushing my teeth. At the very least, I should probably make sure that I’m using toothpaste before sticking the brush in my mouth. But as you can readily ascertain from this opening, I did neither of those things.

I’d just gotten up on Sunday morning and was getting ready for church. As usual, I was in a hurry. I was ready to leave but still needed to brush my teeth so I grabbed the brush and “toothpaste.” Only after I began brushing did I realize that instead of my Sensodyne toothpaste, I’d used a tube of Desitin. For those who may not know, Destin is a zinc oxide cream used primarily to treat rashes, specifically, babies’ diaper rash. It and the toothpaste tube look strangely similar if both are laying on the counter.

Surprisingly, the stuff didn’t taste bad. There wasn’t really a taste to it at all. It was more of a weird texture that seemed to coat the entire inside of my mouth. The problem with that is, Destin is a very thick and stiff cream and resistant to water. So, it took some time to remove it from my teeth and mouth. I finally used a dry wash cloth to wipe away most of the cream and then brushed my teeth (with actual toothpaste this time, and a different brush). Then I brushed them again. And still not satisfied the Destin was completely gone; I used a very large dose of mouthwash. I then drank a can of Dr. Pepper—just for good measure.

Although, I didn’t read the label, I’m pretty sure Destin isn’t too harmful. It IS used on babies after all. Still, it was the idea. Just kind of disgusting. On a positive note however, my teeth seem to be rash free at the moment! ~

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.

______________________________


Current Reads



Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Rave Reviews Book Club Spotlight Author - Suzanne Burke

Today, it is an honor to host Rave Reviews Books Club's Spotlight Author, Suzanne Burke! When you've finished reading her post, be sure to check out her book, Acts of Redemption. And for a schedule of her blog stops visit Rave Reviews Book Club. Now, here's Suzanne...





Hi!
Welcome to Day 4 of my RRBC “SPOTLIGHT” Author Blog Tour! I am thrilled to have you join me. My heartfelt 'Thank you' to my generous host!
 I thought I’d share with you some of the locations ‘Acts Beyond Redemption’ visits on its’ journey.
THE GREEN SLOPES OF AFGHANISTAN. Near Dasht-e-Shadian In spring.
Where the ancient custom of training horse and rider for ‘Buzkashi’ tournaments takes place, on the edge of the Hindu Kush.




THE NEW YORK OFFICES OF THE FBI
This is the H.Q of the ‘Countdown Murders’ Task force team.


THE BUSY, BEAUTIFUL, DANGEROUS STREETS OF NEW YORK.CITY.
Where all the team, lived, laughed and cried.


1600 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE WASHINGTON D.C.
The residence of President of The United States, Elizabeth Shea.


A HUNTING LODGE CALLED HEAVENS’ GATE.
The only place that could ever give Sheila Harrington peace.


All of these amazing locations feature strongly in my book.
The sequel will take you on a different tour.
A very different tour.
I do hope you have enjoyed a brief sojourn into some of the locations inhabited by the characters of Acts Beyond Redemption.



Thanks so very much for stopping by, and I do hope you'll join me on the next stop of my Rave Reviews Book Club Spotlight Author Tour.



Suzanne Burke lives, laughs, writes and enjoys her life in the beautiful harbor-side city of Sydney Australia.
She is a mother and grandmother, now in her sixties, and considers every moment of every day as a precious treasure to be valued and explored, and not simply endured.
Her non-fiction works are written under the pen-name of Stacey Danson.
They are both challenging and thought provoking works covering the earliest years of her life, the topic of child abuse and the PTSD that accompanied her into her later years  are not, by virtue of their subject matter an easy or comfortable read, yet so many have read them. She will be forever grateful that her readers have assisted in raising the awareness into this painful and enduring evil.
An awareness that is vital in any efforts to stem this tide of inhuman acts perpetrated on the most innocent of us all … the children.
She escapes into the world of fiction in her thriller and suspense novels, continually exploring other genres such as paranormal and dystopian, and always delighting in the magical escapism offered in the written word.
She is an avid reader and reviewer who enjoys sharing the works she explores.

Follow Suzanne online:
Twitter handle - @pursoot






Sunday, February 5, 2017

Fire Danger-High

Please forgive any typos in this post—my house is full of smoke and my eyes are a little watery as I type. My wife, the pyromaniac in the family is at it again, starting fires under the guise of cooking. I think she may be trying to get rid of all the stuff I hoard the quick and easy way.

I’ve written before about her proclivity of starting fires on the stove and in the oven. And nothing has changed. Her firebug tendency is an on-going and frequent occurrence. In fact, the most recent case (besides tonight) was only two days ago. She put some chicken in the oven and left for work. When the barbecue sauce bubbled over, things started heating up. Thankfully, my son was visiting and he took care of that one.

I should point out that she is an excellent cook. (Of course, this keeps me in a constant need of a diet)! And she has a knack for making ordinary food taste great! She just likes to add a little excitement—to keep us on our toes, I suppose. She’s even been known to start water on fire, not once, but twice!

I’m considering investing in a fire extinguisher, but that might be a waste of money. I mean, with her “skills” a fire extinguisher probably would offer no protection. I can see her setting that on fire as well!

Tonight’s episode, despite the heavy smoke and impending fire danger, ended well—with me scarfing down a savory, melt-in-your-mouth steak. As usual, the satisfying meal helped counter the anxiety of wondering if the house will burn down. So far, everything seems fine. Still, I plan to stay up a little longer—just in case. And hopefully, my wife doesn’t get up in the middle of the night for a midnight snack! ~

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.

______________________________



Current Reads




Monday, January 30, 2017

Mouse Vs. Human

“I just saw a mouse run from behind the kitchen to the laundry room.”

That’s the text I received from my wife last week. We’ve known for a few weeks we had a mouse and I put out several traps. But the traps were not effective. I think mice are getting smarter than they used to be. But I should be smarter, right?

I used to be pretty good at catching mice. A lot of times I’ve captured ten or more in a single night. Of course, it helps when the house has so many mice that you can practically catch them by hand. I didn’t keep track of the total number I caught but it didn’t seem to make any difference anyway. It was like trying to clean up a truckload of sand one grain at a time—with a new truck coming in every day.

But we don’t live in that house anymore and we haven’t had much of problem with mice these days. Occasionally, when we’d find evidence of them, I’d put out a trap, or two, and that would be it. But this time... nothing.

So, after getting my wife’s text, I made another trip to the store. I came home with a variety of traps. They are now set and I’m waiting. Waiting to see if I am smarter than a mouse. Wish me luck ’cause so far, the mouse is winning. ~

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.

______________________________


Current Reads