Treasured Memories

I was sitting here at my computer wasting time instead of working on my books.  A thought occurred to me, if it is work, why am I doing it. Then I remembered why if gives me pleasure.  My mind wandered back to another time that also gives me pleasure.

The times I bathed, powdered, and snuggled with my children, before putting them to bed for the night.  They got a warm bath with bubbles and toys. After bath-time they got powdered, and put in clean PJ’s, then covered with their warm bed-clothes. Then it was story time.  I loved reading and used different voices to make it fun for them, and read until their little eyes closed and sleep claimed them.  I don’t remember of making up stories, nor them asking for them.

When my Grandbaby came along, she was different, not better, just different. She loved to have me make up stories.  Everything else was the same, except the making up of stories. I can’t remember any of the ones I made up, and probably she doesn’t, but she might remember me telling them.

A couple of my fondest memories was of Aurianna setting on my lap as I winning simple solitaire and when the cards started falling over the screen in uneven lines sayin, “Make it do it again, Gramma.”

Another fond memory was of her saying, “Gramma, make the car talk again.”  I had a Chrysler that talked to me, saying things like, “A door is ajar.”

She is all grown up now, but writing is akin to telling her stories, of course some of the stories I tell now are for grown-ups, but I still love to tell children’s stories.

To see and read my stories you can go to Amazon.com and type my name Brenda Colbath in the search and they will all pop up.  You decide if you want to read children, young adult, or adult and they are all there.  There are 2 more on the way. I’ll let you know when they are available.

 

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Things I wish I had done

When we first moved to Phoenix, Arizona we lived in apartments.  My husband liked the ground floor because he couldn’t see any reason to carry groceries and laundry up and down stairs.  Okay, I can see that, but the view is better from on the second and third floor and it never flooded on the second floor.

In one complex we had neighbors move in above us and I swear, they were elephants.  They stomped from morning until they went to bed.

I came home early with a migraine and after about two hours I had had enough.  I stomped up to their door and banged on it, and told them how I felt in terms that might have made the woman’s hair curl.

I got a call from management telling me that I couldn’t talk to them like that.  They weren’t interested in them stomping all hours of the day and night.

I made up my mind that we had to get out of there before I got arrested, and we did. We bought a house.  The decision was made the day I saw the Mrs. taking laundry down stairs and she was pregnant!!!!

What I wanted to do so bad it hurt: call every charity in the city; give them that address and tell them that I wanted to donate all my household belongings to them and to just come and get them. Oh yes, and my name is Mrs. Ella Phant.

I had so may happy minutes musing about how much fun it would be to watch and listen to the conversation between Mrs. Ella Phant and the charity trying to move her belongings out.

 

Do Great Loves Ever Die?

This little fluff piece is just to make you think.  You are supposed to wonder if the man is dreaming, awake, or dead.  There might be a religious theme in your mind, or not.  Let me know what you think, what did it mean to you.   Thanks for reading.

He was startled awake from his happy dream by something pushing on his foot. He was lying by a sparkling mountain stream; arms folded behind his head, and they were sound asleep. The mist started to clear from his brain, and he realized that the Y branch sticking in the bank with the long freshly cut pole was desperately trying to alert him that he had a trout on the line. Setting up as quickly as he could, he saw his pole was rapidly bobbing up and down, the end nearly smacking the water. Now fully awake he grabbed the make-shift pole, his hands weren’t as nimble as they used to be, but he excitedly began to work for his breakfast.

The stream was so clear he could see to the bottom, and his trout looked huge pulling hard on the line. His mouth watered as he daydreamed of it roasting over an open flame. He shook the dream away and concentrated on landing this beauty. He remembered little else, but he knew how to play a fish and land it.

Concentrating on landing his breakfast, he knew trout have a soft mouth and could slip the hook if he wasn’t careful. Hand over hand up the pole his hands moved to grasp the line for better control. He spent several minutes letting his beauty have a little line and then gently reeling it back by winding it around his fist. Finally, the prize was within his grasp, reaching down he slid two fingers into the gills and lifted his magnificent breakfast out of the water. He pulled his knife from his jeans pocket and neatly cleaned his prize fish, okay, not as huge as he looked in the water, but surely enough to fill his and Sabine’s belly as soon as he remembered the way to his camp.

He plopped the fish in the creel beside him, and whistling walked to his camp. It appeared that his feet knew the way and they took him to a clearing, fifty careful steps from his fishing hole.

One could tell he loved camping by the neatness of his camp. His tent was erected properly, taunt with correctly placed guidelines, campfire pit lined with small stones and large ones circling them, a solid iron grille set with a big wrought iron frying pan waiting for his meal. Stoking the embers into flame, adding more wood, tossing a generous pat of butter in the pan, he was gratified his prize filled the pan. What a feast this would be, eggs wouldn’t be necessary.

The smell of the fish cooking made his mouth water, his mind clearing, focusing on the love of his life Sabine. “Where was she? Surely she could smell their breakfast cooking.” He couldn’t allow her to be a sleepyhead when such a wonderful feast was waiting. Leaving his cooking after carefully turning his prize fish in the pan, he boosted his aching body up and walked stiffly to the tent, opening the flap to let in some light and laughing he called to her, “Get up you sleepyhead, come out and join me for breakfast.”

Not only did she not answer, but there was also no Sabine. Where could she be? He recalled cuddling in their two-man sleeping bag last night, just like they used to in their youth. Of course, she must have gone exploring or needed an early morning private break. As soon as the smell of his prize breakfast

He was startled awake from his happy dream by something pushing on his foot. He was lying by a sparkling mountain stream; arms folded behind his head, and they were sound asleep. The mist started to clear from his brain, and he realized that the Y branch sticking in the bank with the long freshly cut pole was desperately trying to alert him that he had a trout on the line. Setting up as quickly as he could, he saw his pole was rapidly bobbing up and down, the end nearly smacking the water. Now fully awake he grabbed the make-shift pole, his hands weren’t as nimble as they used to be, but he excitedly began to work for his breakfast.

The stream was so clear he could see to the bottom, and his trout looked huge pulling hard on the line. His mouth watered as he daydreamed of it roasting over an open flame. He shook the dream away and concentrated on landing this beauty. He remembered little else, but he knew how to play a fish and land it.

Concentrating on landing his breakfast, he knew trout have a soft mouth and could slip the hook if he wasn’t careful. Hand over hand up the pole his hands moved to grasp the line for better control. He spent several minutes letting his beauty have a little line and then gently reeling it back by winding it around his fist. Finally, the prize was within his grasp, reaching down he slid two fingers into the gills and lifted his magnificent breakfast out of the water. He pulled his knife from his jeans pocket and neatly cleaned his prize fish, okay, not as huge as he looked in the water, but surely enough to fill his and Sabine’s belly as soon as he remembered the way to his camp.

He plopped the fish in the creel beside him, and whistling walked to his camp. It appeared that his feet knew the way and they took him to a clearing, fifty careful steps from his fishing hole.

One could tell he loved camping by the neatness of his camp. His tent was erected properly, taunt with correctly placed guidelines, campfire pit lined with small stones and large ones circling them, a solid iron grille set with a big wrought iron frying pan waiting for his meal. Stoking the embers into flame, adding more wood, tossing a generous pat of butter in the pan, he was gratified his prize filled the pan. What a feast this would be, eggs wouldn’t be necessary.

The smell of the fish cooking made his mouth water, his mind clearing, focusing on the love of his life Sabine. “Where was she? Surely she could smell their breakfast cooking.” He couldn’t allow her to be a sleepyhead when such a wonderful feast was waiting. Leaving his cooking after carefully turning his prize fish in the pan, he boosted his aching body up and walked stiffly to the tent, opening the flap to let in some light and laughing he called to her, “Get up you sleepyhead, come out and join me for breakfast.”

Not only did she not answer, but there was also no Sabine. Where could she be? He recalled cuddling in their two-man sleeping bag last night, just like they used to in their youth. Of course, she must have gone exploring or needed an early morning private break. As soon as the smell of his prize breakfast reached her nose, she would be over the moon excited and come running back to help him devour the fish. She loved to camp as much as he did and loved eating freshly caught fish, as long as she didn’t have to touch their slimy bodies. He smiled remembering the time she actually caught one, but couldn’t bear to touch it until it came out of the frying pan.

We went back to the fire and made sure that the fish had not burned, but was golden brown and thoroughly cooked. He let his eyes wander over the magnificent view. In the distance, he marveled at the white-capped mountains sparkling in the rising sun. High Pines towered in the distance, but around his clearing, their home away from home much smaller trees made an excellent windbreak, which was exactly why he picked this perfect spot.

Damn, the fish was cooked just right. He called several times and scouted around the camp for several minutes. Sabine must have gone looking for mushrooms or exploring. She was as capable as woods-man as he was, so he was not worried about her getting lost. It wasn’t like Sabine to wander so far away that she would not hear him call. He kept calling, but she was nowhere to be found and didn’t answer his calls.

He wasn’t going to let this breakfast go to waste, so he sat down and dug in. When he filled his belly sufficiently, he still had over half of the fish left. As soon as the fish was wrapped and stored in the cooler, he decided it was time to make a concerted effort to find Sabine. He would have a serious talk with her about not scaring him like this again.

He gathered up his backpack with enough water for both of them, slinging it over his back, taking his hiking pole to steady his old legs, not looking forward to this upcoming trek.

He started walking in the direction that he assumed Sabine had taken when the scenery started to fade. His memory of last night and this morning was receding into a dream-like fugue.

“I’m not ready,” he yelled to no one, “I have to find Sabine.” The voice never told him when it was time. It was never clear what was happening or what he was supposed to do. Voices were booming around him and inside his head. He could hear people talking about pushing, and suddenly he knew that he had no choice in where he was going or when, and it seemed to be NOW. Everything faded out, and he was gone.

On the third page of the daily news the next day, was a small article. “The Bodies of an older couple were found by hikers. Authorities believe they fell and were unable to summon help. They suffered broken bones from the fall and died in each other’s arms”.

“Push again, Mary, she’s almost here. I can see the crown of her head, one more push and we will see Sally’s beautiful face. You can hold her first, but I get to hold her second. Rest and catch your breath.” Mary lay her head back on the pillow and with a sigh, said, “Thanks, coach, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Janie is next door giving birth to her best friend,” Jaimie said holding her hand.

Next door Janie gave her last big push bringing her new baby boy into the world. Frank was delayed at work and would be heartbroken to miss his son’s birth. Janie waited as long as she could, but the labor progressed a lot faster than they anticipated. Finally, Janie held her baby in her arms, unwrapping his blanket to marvel at his beautiful eyes, his tiny hands, and feet. Once she was sure he was all there, she wrapped him up again. She anxiously watched the door, waiting for Justin to meet his father.

And it begins again

 

Happy Birthday FREE Book

Immortal Enemies is FREE from June 5 to June 9th on Amazon.  Click  on https://tinyurl.com/brendasbooknook 

Can you imagine being immortal?  Living long after most of your friends and loved ones are gone?  Would you look on life differently?  Would you be nicer or immune to feeling regret? 

What’s a girl to do when she is in lust; wants to stay young and beautiful forever?  Unfortunately, keeping her body in that condition could be fatal.  

Sexy fun and games of “who’s fooling who” abound in this sexy Sci/Fi fantasy!

 

Immortal Enemies Front coverx

 

 

Immortal Enemies

What’s a girl to do when she is in lust and the enemy is her lover right in her bed? What would you do if you were recruited to spy on your employer for big bucks? This is a sexy romp through a “Who’s fooling who Sci/Fi mystery.”  Mario is playing a she loves me, she loves me not game.

https://tinyurl.com/brendasbooknook

Immortal Enemies Front coverx

Ruby & Nolan’s Great Adventures in Space Book 4

Imagine a dragon with a pirate scarf and eye patch saying “Ahoy, ye Mateys! Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger. Mighty Pirates are we.”

A fun fishing experience for the kids and Dr. Allen turns out to be an adventure in survival! Being kidnapped was not part of the plans, and Donzereli could be in more danger than the kids.  The good thing is we finally find out what the “Others” are up close and personal.

https://tinyurl.com/brendasbooknook

 

R N Book 4 cover for WP

 

Murder on Lake Haverly

May West Mysteries Book 1  Murder on Lake Haverly

What is going on in the sleepy little town of Punkin Center?  Homes are ransacked, and bodies are discovered by Maye’s new Realtor with Crossbow bolts in their chests.  Frank is up to his ears in murder, but he’s never too busy for romance.  Go to http://tinyurl.com/brendasbooknook  to see all my books.  They are all $.99 for Kindle, but if you like to hold a book in your hands they are on there too! Please leave me a review. Thanks.

mwmysteries-book-1-cover-9

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