On This Day In 1988

September 24th. I’m feeling a little nostalgic today. That’s just a fancy way of saying, I feel old. And a bit puzzled.

I’m trying hard to figure out how it’s possible that thirty years have passed since the birth of my oldest daughter. Thirty years since my wife and I became parents. Thirty years that seem nothing more than a blur. Not that I don’t remember the day. I do. Very clearly.

I recall every little detail: the car ride to the hospital, the nurses and doctors, the room my wife was in, the monitors being set up, and of course, the actual birth; seeing our baby, hearing her cry, holding her, feeling her heartbeat and her breathing. Then there was the calling of everyone for the birth announcement, the visitors, and the excitement. I remember it all.

The problem is all of the years between then and now. That’s what seems like a blur. Sure, I can recall specific incidents, certain days here and there. A lot of them actually. But over all, the years have just gone by almost unnoticed. And that’s sort of sad, and the reason I’m feeling nostalgic—I’m trying to remember as much of the thirty years as I can.

But it seems the life that used to be, somehow got lost in yesterday. Somehow, my baby went from being a newborn to an adult, married with kids of her own—almost in the blink of an eye. And my thirty years of memories are condensed into little snippets, all jammed together.

I guess what I’m trying to say is thirty years should have taken a lot longer than it did. I should have more memories to show for that amount of time. Seems like there should at least be thirty years’ worth. But then, what do I know? I’m just the guy who can’t remember much. ~

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.

To Make A Short Story Long

Dishes. I don’t like dishes. Wait, that’s not true. I do like dishes, especially when they have food on them. What I don’t like is DOING the dishes. That’s not all that uncommon, I realize. I’m guessing there are very few people who actually enjoy doing dishes.

Thing is, we have a dishwasher; load, add soap, turn on. That’s it. Not difficult. Doesn’t even take much time. And I still don’t like doing the dishes.

Maybe it’s because, like other household chores such as: laundry, dusting, or cleaning the floors, it’s a never ending job. Dishes at my house seem to multiply on their own. Dirty dishes anyway. But clean dishes are a problem too. The clean ones are always in the dishwasher, waiting to be put away, which usually gets done about two minutes before loading it with the next load.

With only two people in the house, you’d think that wouldn’t be very often. You’d be wrong. Between my wife and I, we ran three loads of dishes this weekend. Yep, three loads for two people, in two days. The last load just finished washing—or drying, to be more accurate—and already there are more dishes in the sink, waiting to be washed.

I guess I just don’t understand how two people can mess up that many dishes. I’d like to blame it on visiting grandkids or something but it seems to happen even when they haven’t been here. It’s like the dishes climb out of the cabinet of their own accord, somehow get remnants of food stuck to their surface, and then jump into the sink. I’m fairly well convinced we could go on vacation for a month and every dish we own would be piled in the sink when we returned home.

We’ve tried paper plates and plasticware. We’ve tried eating out. Our dishes didn’t notice; just redoubled their efforts. It would seem then, the only way to win this battle is to get ride of the dishes. Having no dishes means nothing to wash—ever. Brilliant idea, I think. And in fact, I’m already working on it.

Side note: My wife says I like to ramble a lot when I write. “Just get to the point,” she says. Okay. I will. But I still think my so-called rambling makes a far better story than simply writing, “I broke a glass the other day.” ~

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.

A Whole New Ball Game

I did something this past weekend that I’ve never done before; I attended a soccer game. Probably not anything new for some of you but I’m more of a football kind of guy. I’ve never had an occasion, or reason, to go to a soccer game. Not only that, I’ve never even played soccer.

Although I was involved in many sports in school, and after; not only football, but basketball, baseball, track, volleyball, tennis, and even golf, (I know, to categorize some of those as a sport is a little presumptuous) back in my day, soccer was not even on the list of possibilities. Sure, the school did have soccer balls but we used them to play kickball or dodgeball, sometimes basketball, but never soccer.

But the world has changed. These days soccer is one of the most popular sporting activities for kids—or so I’m told. I’m not exactly a kid anymore so I have no firsthand knowledge on the matter. But my grandson is, a kid that is. And this weekend was his first soccer game. And that’s why I found myself attending a soccer game for the first time in my life.

It was interesting, and it looked like they were having fun. Still, the game seems a little foreign to me. I kept thinking the kids would probably have a lot better time if I gave them a football!

Okay, if I’m being honest, which I am, they didn’t really need a football. They all seemed to be enjoying the game, as did the spectators, including me. But there was one major problem; they don’t keep score. How are we supposed to know who won the game? I know, they’re just kids but I’m from that by-gone era when we didn’t sugarcoat everything; didn’t try to coddle kids, or worry about damaging their self esteem—and we certainly didn’t equate losing with winning. There is definitely a difference. Is it fun to be on the losing team? The answer, obviously, is no, it’s not. But losing does tend to make everyone try harder the next time. Because everyone, including kids, wants to win. If there’s no chance of winning, then why try? Why play the game?

Okay, enough of my ranting. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, just because they (the proverbial “they” from the Land of Anonymity) don’t keep score, doesn’t mean I don’t. I do. And did. And my grandson’s team won!

And just so you know, I successfully refrained from yelling “Touchdown!” for the entirety of the game! ~

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. 

Just In Time For Winter

About seven weeks ago, right in the dead of summer, the air conditioner on my pickup stopped working. The air conditioner itself was fine but the temperature control couldn't be adjusted. And of course, it wasn't stuck on the cool setting.

Normally, a non-working air conditioner wouldn't be much of a problem; I don't use it much anyway. But, I'm not really fond of heat blowing out of the vents either - not when the outside temps are in the triple digits.

Trouble is, I was busy. So, I didn't fix it. For seven weeks I've been driving with heat blasting on me. Even with the windows down, it was quite warm! 

I finally got around to working on the pickup this past weekend. The job took about an hour and a half - to take the dash apart, diagnose the problem, devise a way to fix it, and put it all back together. And yes, in case you're wondering, it works!

No more driving around sweating! Or feeling faint! But then, it's now September and the need for air conditioning is quickly fading. Soon I'll be needing heat instead!

Still, I'm glad the air conditioning is working again; I might want to use it - next summer!  ~

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.