Riding to Las Vegas

Day 144

"Rain, rain go away, c'mon back another day." That's what we used to say when we were children and wanted to go outside to play on a rainy day.

Today I doubt if many children would even notice or care about a rainy day. As long as they can get a ride to the teenage hangout known to us older folks as the shopping mall, they're good to go. Even if they stay home they can watch videos, go online or play computer games.

My friends and I used to live outside. Summer or winter. The house was stuffy and there was always extra chores to do when we stayed inside.

I previously posted about flying a kite. I'm sure todays youth would find that activity boring. Just standing around and watching a kite sailing in the sky. Of course today kites are more sophisticated and can be made to do different tricks. Still mild compared to video games.

Often I think, as did generations before me, that things keep getting faster. Maybe it's just a case of "I'm getting slower". Nothing comes easy anymore. Not even sleep. I think I just need  more exercise. So with that in mind I'm going to climb aboard the exercise bike and ride to Las Vegas. Those are my kind of games.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

World War Z and other Nonsense

Day 143

Almost forgot my blog post for today. Uh...Umm...Hmmm...I got nothing. Gimme a minute here.

Ya know 142 straight days of blogging ain't easy. Yes, I know, Ain't AIN'T proper english, but there it is. So deal with it.

I should read this one for my writers group, they would have a field day correcting the grammar alone. Not to mention content and flow.

Hel, I might evn tun of the spil cheker.

Sorry about the delay. I had a great inspiration for my Facebook. I don't post political on my blog.

Currently watching one of the worst Brad Pitt movies ever made. World War Z. I'm not a fan of zombie movies but even I know zombies are slow. Not in this movie. These zombies could take the gold medal at the Olympic Games. Hell, they would take all three.

Alright, enough of this, I'm done.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Give Me Laughter

Day 142

Laughter

by

Kenneth A. Stephenson

I don't laugh anymore.
I smile. I chuckle.
But I don't really laugh.

I want to laugh again.
I want the gut busting, side splitting,
Loud, continuous laughter.

I want to beg you to stop
So I can catch my breath.
I want to laugh so hard,
All my worries are forgotten.

Angry Poets

Day 141

Irwin Allen Ginsberg

Recently I wrote that I plan to publish a book of poetry. I have since discovered two things about poetry books.

One. A poetry book is often referred to as a "chapbook". Meaning a short book. Very popular at the beginning of the twentieth century. Usually a chapbook consists of 30-80 pages. This is the range I will be aiming for in my book.

There are numerous contests for poetry chapbooks. Occasionally there is a monetary prize but most often the promise of the winning chapbook being published. I have recently read of such a contest offering a first prize of $500 and publishing in both ebook and print through Amazon services with 25 author copies. The entry fee is $20.

I could publish my chapbook on my own for free through Amazon. I am computer literate enough to upload files and create a book cover. The cost to the author for books up to 100 pages is nominal. So the cost of copies and shipping would be low (approx. $3 per copy).

So other than winning the $500 prize and saving the cost of 25 copies (approx $75), would it be worth waiting to publish? If I win, I would get some exposure and add "winning a contest" to the list of accomplishments on my author page and website. Hmm.

Second. I have watched some poetry readings on YouTube. There is a lot of anger out there. All of the poets I watched were railing about or against some social issue.

Some of them were very good recitations done fast and emotional, these were obviously memorized and rehearsed for maximum effect. Others were halting readings not nearly as polished, proving many poets are much better writers than reciters.

Public speaking is a talent not everyone is gifted with. Certain actors boast of being Shakespearean trained. As Shakespeare is considered poetry it is easy to see the difference in the reading of a novice as opposed to someone who is trained to recite from memory.

I wonder now if I could do my own poems justice by reading them to an audience? I have read for a small group (ten or twelve people) but never for a large one. Even then it was halting as I was reading instead of reciting from memory. Practice makes perfect.

I contemplate this because, along with book signings, authors are often called upon to do readings to promote their book. I guess I need to get in shape both physically and vocally before I hit the road.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Happy Easter

Day 140

Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail, hippity hoppin' Easters on it's way...

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Spring: A Time of Rebirth

Day 139

Another beautiful day here in northern Michigan, temperature reaching fifty degrees and lots of sunshine. It won't be long now before I'm fishing and complaining about the heat and mosquitoes. And those ankle biting flies that bite right through your socks.

So it goes season after season, always wishing for the next. Autumn will always be my favorite season but I do enjoy the birth in the spring, the nurturing of summer, the rewards of autumn and the sleep of winter.

All things are born, live as best they can, then die to nourish the rest. Mother Earth wastes nothing, all things are recycled. All things are born again.

The ducks have returned soon to be followed by the geese. The wild tom turkeys strut and fan their tail feathers to attract the females for nesting.

In a few months, the little ones will be seen with their mothers searching for food as the males stand watch for protection. They will grow quickly and fatten themselves off the plenty of autumn, in preparation for the cold winter.

If they survive the winter they will nest and mate and have little ones of their own. If they do not survive they will provide sustenance for other creatures. The cycle of life. Nothing wasted. Truly remarkable.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Superstition

Day 138

This is very embarrassing but here goes. This latest snowstorm here in northern Michigan was my fault. There I admitted it. I feel so much better, like a huge load has been lifted off my shoulders.

You may be wondering how I caused a foot of snow fall. I left my Christmas wreath on my front door after Christmas. I know, I know. I just kept forgetting. I'm pretty sure my heart meds are affecting my memory.

And so I offer my most sincere apology. I have removed the iconic symbol of winter celebration. In it's place I have hung my "Gone Fishing" sign (a gift from my niece). I hereby assume full responsibility for the warm, sunny days that follow as a result of my fishing sign.

Until tomorrow,

Ken 

Free Snow?

Day 137

What shall we talk about?

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Out of Breath

Day 136

If I used a picture of me you wouldn't have stopped bye.

I had to get a lung capacity test. Wow, am I out of breath. (crickets) OK, not a very good joke. Been having a hard time breathing lately and Doc wanted me tested for COPD. The tech recommended a bronchial dilator, I recommend more cardio exercise, like walking. Better than more drugs, well, better than prescription drugs. C'mon Michigan, legalize marijuana. I could go into business.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

If I Could Fly

Day 135

If I could fly

I'd pick you up

I'd take you into the night

And show you a love

Like you've never seen - ever seen.

Into the Night

by Barry Mardones 

Yeah, I'm wimping out. Had a long night and even longer day.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Musings From My Mind - Love's Sweet Sting

Day 134

"If you love something, set it free. If it returns to you it's yours forever. If not, it was never yours to begin with."

"You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."

"It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

I have lived long enough to have experienced all three. With gems like this out there, why should anyone be confused about love?

When I was a young man in my twenties I was in a relationship with a wonderful young woman. I let her go. I have tried for years to figure out why I let her go? Did I want to prove she would come back to me? She didn't. Was the grass greener on the other side of the hill? No, it was not. But what really has stayed with me is, if we had a good relationship, why didn't either of us fight to keep it going? We both just let it slip away.

Lesson: Before letting someone go, be sure they know they are wanted.

In my forties, a woman I had known and loved for eleven years, a woman who had become as much a part of me as my right arm, a woman who was an integral part of my everyday existence was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Seven and a half short weeks later she passed away and I discovered exactly how much she meant to me.

Lesson: It is easy to take someone for granted. Especially when they are a comfortable fit.

At each of these times I would have argued that it was not better to have loved and lost. If I had not loved I would not have felt such pain. If I had not loved I would not have experienced such ecstasy, warmth, passion and caring.

Lesson: To go through life without experiencing love would be the greatest loss of all.

Love can be bitter but it's that that makes it all the sweeter.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Houghton Lake Ice Off-Fishing Licenses April 1, 2016

Day 133

The ice is gone from Houghton Lake. There is a small amount along the shore, washed up from the wind in a few spots. The weather is predicted to be near 40 degrees for the next two weeks but that can change at any time.

I won't get out fishing until the temps hit 60 degrees consistently, I'm not young anymore and don't like the cold when I'm fishing.

I like to just set up my folding chair in a nice open spot along the shore, or go out trolling in my Bass Raider two man boat. I've been fishing with the Bass Raider for 6 or 7 years and have never had anyone else along. I might take my nephew this year if he wants to go. My brother and I together would put us way over the weight limit of the small boat. But my nephew is very thin. No weight problem.

I get excited just thinking about it.

I love fishing. But I don't eat fish. I catch and release. Anyone who fishes with me knows if your not going to eat it I'll tell you to release it. There's no reason to keep fish until they are dead, just to dump them out. Put the fish back and let them get bigger.

I have already stocked up on my favorite jig heads. I bought the last bottle of fish attractant at the Walmart. I have to check my bobbers and be sure the reels are oiled and ready.

I need to start exercising so I can make it down the embankment and back up again at the Reedsburg Dam. Fishing by the river is suppose to be good all year long. I don't fish once the fall high temps hit 50 degrees and lower so I can't verify the winter fishing.

I'll be reporting fishing conditions throughout the rest of the year. Don't forget 2016 fishing licenses are required starting April 1.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Big Brother and the "Heavy Elbow"

Day 132

When I was very young my brother, who is ten years older than me, would relax on the couch and watch one of the three channels we had on the black and white television. If I happened to stray into the room and he saw me he would ask me if I wanted a ham and cheese sandwich?

If I responded in the affirmative he would tell me to make him one too. If I responded in the negative he would tell me to make him one anyway.

Should I be so foolish as to refuse and tell him to get his own...he would apply the "heavy elbow". This threat alone would normally illicit the desired response. When finally I decided to stand up for my emancipation from sandwich tyranny, my brother would walk over to me, place his elbow on the top of my cute little head and press down until I crumpled to the floor.

This he told me was the "heavy elbow".

Usually, I would decide sandwich service was less troublesome. But as I grew a little older, I estimated by the time my brother got up off the couch and crossed the room, I could make it to the back door and outside to freedom.

Having realized my new found courage, my tormentor employed an old tactic. He would simply "play possum" meaning he would act as though he was asleep, then, when I was close enough, he would grab me around my neck and rub my head with his over large knuckles. Grinding them into my skull until I gave in. This was referred to as a "noogie". I much preferred the "heavy elbow".

Big brother left for the army and then Vietnam when I was nine years old. I once wrote and asked him if he would employ the "heavy elbow" or the "noogie" on the enemy until they surrendered? He wrote back to tell me that the "noogie" and "heavy elbow" had been outlawed by the Geneva Convention as too cruel and unusual.

I was in total agreement.

He made it home from that awful war. And he never employed the "heavy elbow" or "noogie" again.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Bill Alexander vs Bob Ross: A Win-Win

Day 131

If you are a fan of Bob Ross, the prolific landscape painter who taught many beginner's a simple way to paint on public broadcasting, you're in for a treat. There is another painter who originated wet-on-wet painting, his name is Bill Alexander. He is credited with perfecting the "magic" white paint used to cover the canvas in preparation for painting.

Bill Alexander also had a television show teaching amateurs how to create beautiful landscapes with a wide brush and a special palette knife by swishing and jabbing and scraping oil paints on a wet canvas.

I believe Alexanders paintings are more detailed than Bob Ross. Though their techniques are almost identical. Bill Alexander has a heavy Russian(?) accent which can make him a little difficult to understand. His strokes are stronger and more deliberate.

Bob Ross is the better teacher however, with his soft easy, voice and mannerisms. He is very easy to follow as he explains everything as he does it.

Alexander expresses the beauty of his creations. Ross looks for the story in his creations.

Both are excellent painters and teachers for the beginner/amateur painter.

Here are two of my favorite videos: Bill Alexander and Bob Ross. Click on each to see the video's on YouTube. Each is approximately 30 minutes. If nothing else they are very relaxing to watch.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Feeling Blah

Day 130

Just another day. Not feeling well the past couple of days so nothing to write about today, Just keeping the string going. A little over one third of the way there. Hope I feel better tomorrow. I want to start walking for exercise. It won't be long and I'll be fishing again. Need to be able to get the boat in and out of the truck.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Just Nothing

Day 129

Well, once again I have nothing to write about and it's getting late. So I will cover the spirit of the 365 day blog and write something.

So here goes...something.

Tomorrow is St Patrick's Day and I have an idea for a story.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Backus Lake Ice Will Be Off Soon

Day 128

My two man Bass Raider at Backus Lake summer 2012.

I drove to Backus Lake today. Surprisingly the road was in good shape. I assume there wasn't much traffic during the short winter and with the lower than normal snowfall the runoff did minor damage. There was plenty of dead fall across the road from the high winds, but they have already been cut back.

The ice is gone from the flooding area and the ice is half off the lake. No surprise there as Backus is a shallow lake, only about five feet at its deepest. With the lack off snowfall I can only hope there will be plenty of spring rain to fill the lake or at least maintain a decent level.

The mild winter should result in a low number of winter kill (the number of fish that die due to the lack of oxygen producing vegetation in winter). Some near record fish were being pulled out of both Houghton and Higgins lakes over the winter and I believe this trend will continue through the summer.

I can hardly wait to drop my small two man Bass Raider in at Backus Lake or Reedsburg Dam flooding. I don't expect to catch much until late May but it just feels good to be on the lake puttering around in my boat.

Once a sailor, always a sailor.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Getting Older

Day 127

I wasn't always this old. One day it just crept up on me and jumped on my back, like a hag, riding me into my grave. What happened to my youth?

I was in love once, with a beautiful young woman.

We meet in high school and dreamed of mahogany dining room furniture with seating for 16 people; of crystal wine goblets and water glasses, plates with silver trim, and delicate china cups.

We dreamed of holiday dinners with family and friends, eating the most succulent roast turkey with grandma's favorite stuffing. The stuffing always needed more sage.

A porch all the way across the front of our house with a two person swing at one end. We would sit in the evening and talk about our day. She would rest her head on my shoulder and hold my hand. Her hair would smell of jasmine or honeysuckle depending on her mood that day.

When we retired to bed and turned out the lights, I would feel myself the most fortunate man. My love would spoon up against me, turn her head and I would taste her full lips. Most nights we would make love before drifting off to sleep.

When I awaken in the morning I am alone. The scent of flowers, just a dream. I try to sleep, to return to her arms, to gaze into her eyes, live in her smile. But I cannot. All I can do is moving through my dreary life. When darkness falls. when my day ends, I pray I go there again.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Requiem For An SUV

Day 126

Recently I sold my Ford Explorer SUV to my brother. It was an older Explorer, a 1994 XLT model with 4 wheel drive, some rust and a few scratches but mostly in very good shape for 22 years old. It started leaking coolant one day as I was fishing at Reedsburg Dam, about 17 miles from my home. I tried to make it back but she overheated and I finally had to call my nephew to tow us the rest of the way. When I inspected it I found the heater core regulator was cracked and broke off when I touched it. I still can't understand how it could be so fractured but not leak a drop in my driveway.

The new part cost $20 and another $12 for coolant. I had hoped that would be an end to it. I was not so lucky. When I started the truck again, there was white smoke coming from the tailpipe, a sure sign of water getting into at least one cylinder. That meant a serious problem. Possibly a blown head gasket or worse. The labor alone would be too high for me to justify repairing it.

I truly loved my Explorer. I often drove it off road to fishing holes and around town. I even drove down state several times. Never did I have a breakdown and mostly it just needed maintenance done once or twice a year. She was a great and reliable vehicle and I had difficulty parting with her. She sat in my yard for months until finally my brother asked me about it for his grandson's auto shop class. He would only have to buy the parts and the labor would be free.

When the students started the truck it idled just fine. As I had told my brother it was a great running truck. Still I had my doubts. I suggested they test drive it around the parking lot. If something went wrong they would be near the shop and could push it into the work bay. They drove it around the parking lot, and sure enough, she started to smoke out of the exhaust. A sign of a problem. The class instructor doesn't want to tear down the engine this late in the semester. So my brother will have to tow it home and work on it in his garage. He enjoys mechanic work.

In the end, if it can't be fixed he can always sell the parts off of it and anything he can't sell he can take to the scrap steel buyer. A most heinous end for a trusted friend that gave me many hours and miles of service. Driving down highways, going off road exploring two tracks and always searching for new fishing holes. I hope she can be fixed. I hope she won't come to that end.

Mom's car get's great gas mileage but I just don't trust it to go off road. So I'll be searching for another Explorer XLT with 4 wheel drive and less than 120,000 miles on it, a little rust and some scratches from tree branches. With a little love she could last me another ten years.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Houghton Lake Ice Off Soon

Day 125


With the warmer than normal temperatures we have been having over the last couple of weeks, the ice on the lake is thinning fast. I was at Houghton Lake's information central (a.k.a. Georges Barber Shop) and one of the customers was reporting he had gone out on the ice one day last week and the ice was 12" in the morning and by late afternoon it was down to 9" thick. It is apparent that the ice will be off the lakes around here by the end of the month (March).

DNR has already required fishing shanties be removed from the ice. Well ahead of the regular March 15 over night restriction. There are still some hardcore ice fisherman on the lake. Though I haven't heard what the ice thickness is lately. I would recommend extreme caution, or better yet, just wait and get your boat ready. It won't be long now.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

I Like Dreaming

Day 124

Why is dreaming about something is so much better than doing it? People sometimes dream of being in a relationship or married to someone. If and when it happens, the reality is not so sweet as the notion. Some dream of travelling to foreign and exotic lands but never leave their hometown. Others (including myself) dream of writing a novel, but never get around to it. And so on...

Is it the dream is unattainable, so we just give up trying to make it a reality? Is it because in the dream we have total control, especially when it involves other people? Do we just not believe in ourselves?

I think it involves a little of each. Lack of confidence, out of reach goals or wants, and a lack of control.

Relationships often fail because we cannot make the other person be who we want them to be. People can be molded to a point if they want to cooperate. If they don't want to change, they won't. That's true of all of us.

Lack of confidence is a big time dream killer. Nobody dreams of something ordinarily or easily attainable. Dreams are for reaching higher. Often beyond the limits we set for ourselves. Since we set our limits, we convince ourselves we can't reach our goal. And so we don't try. We just dream about it instead. Fear of change also falls under lack of confidence.

I won't tell anyone they can't achieve a goal no matter how impossible it may seem to me. But I will try to impress on that person the amount of difficulty involved so that they are prepared for the challenges they will face. I won't tell them I think they can't succeed, if I do and they find a way to succeed...I look like an ass. And deservedly so.

I have a nephew who wanted to be a techno DJ. I was talking with his grandpa and told him how difficult it is to be a paid DJ. I thought it easier to learn an instrument and play in a band. My nephew heard me and possibly thought I meant he couldn't succeed. What I really meant was it would be very difficult and require a lot of hard work. He tried once, failed and never tried again. I wanted him to understand he would probably fail the first time and maybe the next time and the next. But if he wanted it bad enough, he could make it. Maybe someday he'll try again.

I'm done blathering for tonight.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Just This 'N' That

Day 123

How many times can I write about the beautiful day it has been here in Houghton Lake? How many times can I write about the warm weather?

Soon I'll be able to write about the ice leaving the lake and how the winter kill should be below normal with the short ice season. I believe the ice will be off the lake by the end of March. We have a week of unusually warm weather coming and the ice has already begun to recede.

My first fishing trip in my boat will be either at Reedsburg Dam flooding or at Backus lake. I'm sure I won't catch anything as the fish won't really start biting until the water warms them up a bit. So there probably won't be much action until May, but you just never know.

I am so looking forward to going fishing again. In my boat, not on the ice. Of course I do enjoy just cruising around the lake in my two seater. And as I have written before I'm looking for a small aluminum fishing boat 12'-14'. So far, no luck in my price range. That's it for tonight.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Pilate's Dream

Day 122

Pilate's Dream

I dreamed I met a Galilean

A most amazing man

He had that look you very rarely find

The haunting, hunted kind

I asked him to say what had happened

How it all began?

I asked again, he never said a word

As if he hadn't heard

And next, the room was full of

Wild and angry men

They seemed to hate this man

They fell on him, and then disappeared again

Then I saw thousands of millions

Crying for this man

And then I heard them mentioning my name

And leaving me the blame

by Tim Rice for "Jesus Christ Superstar"

Jesus Christ Superstar is a rock opera with some very profound lyric's by Tim Rice. This is the one that made Andrew Lloyd Webber the king of musicals, a title that lasted for decades and culminated with Phantom of the Opera.

When this came out in the early 70's, I was attending Lutheran school. It was some years and more than one disillusionment later, that I actually listened and paid attention to the lyrics with a much less biased ear.

I found the music to be beautiful and inspiring like the promise of that first kiss. The lyrics were sad and wonderful, joyous and sorrowful one emotion after another. Raising me up and dropping me down. And the vocals were beyond my wildest imaginings. I could hardly believe a man could have such vocal range as Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. The sorrow reminding me that Jesus was also a man.

Just happened to catch the video on YouTube.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Someday...Why Not Today?

Day 121

Someone once said, "Someday, is just code for never."

Someday, I'll go to Paris, France.

Someday, I'll learn guitar and play in a rock'n' roll band.

Someday, I'll make enough money to retire and live comfortably.

Someday, I'll meet someone and fall in love.

And on and on. Is someday just a dream? Is it false hope? Or do we really mean to do these things but somewhere along the line we meet someone cynical who tells us to quit dreaming and act like a normal person. Get a job. Go to work everyday. Get married. Have a family. Save for retirement. Then hope we make it to 65. So "someday" we can retire.

I believe "someday" should be synonymous with hope. Hope is what motivates me, hope is what keeps me going, hope is the reason I get out of bed each day. Because I always hope someday will be today.

Personally, there is a place in Ohio called Ravenwood Castle I would like to visit "someday". The murder mystery's look like a lot of fun.

The point is, don't give up on your dreams. Don't wait for someday to happen, make it happen today.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Another Beautiful Day in Northern Michigan

Day 120


Another beautiful northern Michigan day. Temperature hit 58 degrees today. The snow is melting and it won't be long before the ice comes off the lakes. Then it's time to go fishing.

I have several new stories percolating in my mind and I will get one on the blog soon. The past two weeks have been rather hectic but I have plenty of time now.

Mac & cheese for dinner (not very healthy). Back on my diet tomorrow. Been putting on unwanted pounds and I need to get then off. Have to be in shape to do book signings and lectures.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

MMW Dinner a Great Success

Day 119


I went to the MMW 39th Anniversary Dinner and Awards Ceremony last night. It was a great event. We were shy a few members but no one noticed until the end of the evening. Just kidding, we noticed right away. But we did have fun on a special night and we did present an award to a very deserving member. We ate at the China Inn in West Branch. The food was excellent and the staff was very friendly and accommodating. We had several members and guests who are vegetarian and the kitchen recognized their requests for off menu vegan fare.

MMW is a great group of people and I am very honored to be associated with them. With their assistance I hope to realize my lifelong dream of being a published author.

Earlier in the day, drove mom over to the senior center to get her taxes done. Now she can relax until next year. That's it for today.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Foot Steps

Day 118

Readers seem to like the stories of when I was young so here's another.

Every Saturday. I think it was at one o'clock in the afternoon, my friend Cliff and I would watch a horror show called Sir Graves Ghastly. It was a movie matinee with a kid friendly vampire host. Elvira Mistress of the Dark was a few years away or else my childhood could have been very different.

Anyway. Cliff and I would move the furniture in his parents basement and cover it with a heavy blanket. It had to be heavy to cut out as much light as possible from the basement windows, the darker the better. We would pull the blanket from the chairs to the television, like a tent. We used our shoes to hold the blanket in place because it would slip off the slick plastic surface of the TV. Then when we watched Sir Graves creature feature it would be even scarier.

Remember this was in the early 70's so these are old "B" horror movies mostly from the 50's and 60's. I loved the vampire and werewolf movies. Yet one of my favorites is a movie called "The Skull" with Peter Cushing. That skull floating through the air gave me nightmares. I loved it.

It was not uncommon for my brother and I to stay overnight at grandmas and grandpas house. This was a small older, two bedroom house. Off the kitchen, leading down into the basement, was a squeaky set of wood steps, about twenty in all. There were several storage closets and an original coal furnace that had been updated to natural gas. When the furnace came on and the element started to heat up, it would make this loud pinging sound with about a two second pause in between. The old duct work would amplify the sound. As the element got hotter the pinging sound came louder and closer together. Until it was finally hot enough and the fan would come on and the pinging would stop.

After watching horror movies in the afternoon my imagination was pretty fertile. So when I woke up, at night, in that small quiet house with the creaky stairs. And I heard a slow noise like a step and then another step, like something hard walking up the stairs. Like a bony foot, that belongs to a bony skeleton, of what used to be a human being. A skeleton with an evil grinning skull and hollowed out eye sockets, slowly climbing the stairs from the basement. Climbing faster and faster until it got to the door at the top of the stairs. I would swear I could hear it jiggling the door knob but it couldn't get a good enough grip to open the door.

I would wake up sweating (because of the heat being on) and rollover with the covers pulled up over my head until my bladder forced me out of bed and to the bathroom. I would realize there was no skeleton and go back to bed. Soon, I would fall asleep. Until the furnace came on and the footsteps started again.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Smelly Cat

Day 117


I have to hurry and write tonights post before my cat comes back in the house. You see he's a might bit sensitive about his condition and I don't want him to be depressed because I wrote about his affliction. Before I go any further I want it understood that he is not at fault. He has no control over this problem. I feel that I may be somehow at fault, something I've done, something I should have done but didn't. I'm not sure how to say this without seeming to be a cruel pet owner. So I shall just say it. I must be quick, he is scratching at the door to be let in. My cat has, oh dear God, my cat has flatulence.

I don't know how this could have happened. His mother does not show signs of this affliction. I'm embarrassed to say I never met my boys father. I believe I once had a glimpse of him but he just "hit it and forget it". We never saw him again. My little girl kitty blamed me because I had her fixed. She felt it changed her and the deadbeat dad cat never returned.

All I know now is that I was quietly sleeping last night when I began to choke, I though the gas line must have broke. But natural gas is scented like rotten eggs, this was ten times worse. As I rose from my pillow I noticed my cat had been sleeping close by and he to had caught wind of the foul odor. The stench finally dissipated and I returned to my bed.

Earlier to day as I watched a dvd I was affronted with the same noxious fumes. As my cat was resting on my lap, there could be no mistake from whence the stink arose. My own cat, with a look of innocence had contrived the ultimate SBD (silent but deadly) of which any man would have been proud.

The first thing to cross my mind was Lisa Kudrow singing her hit song Smelly Cat. The lyrics kept repeating in my head. "Smelly cat, smelly cat...what are they feeding you."

He's been outside for six hours now and I can only hope whatever combination that has caused this has been "dumped" somewhere away from my home.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

On Cloud Gazing And Kite Flying

Day 116


As I was driving west along M-61 late this afternoon, I witnessed a beautiful sunset. It was the kind with a yellow sun just below the horizon and several clouds above. One cloud was a dark blue that transformed to a majestic deep purple. Another cloud was like a sliced loaf of bread, layers resting one above the other. The bottom edge of each slice had a yellow glow, the top was white. As each rose higher into the sky, the yellow darkened with each layer until it turned to a lustrous gold. I thought it looked like a Bob Ross painting, only better. It stirred old memories from deep in my mind.

When I was young, about 9 years old, my friend and I would walk or ride our bikes to the city park. We would play on the swings, the slides and the monkey bars shaped like a giant spider. This was a popular park for the local children as witnessed by the thick coats of paint on nearly everything, worn over time from hands and legs rubbing on them, grabbing, swinging and straddling. On warm summer days, after burning off our youthful energy, we would rest on the grass and look at the sky. The great fluffy clouds like cotton wadding floating past. But if you really looked, with a little imagination, you could see shapes in the clouds.

We would spend some time resting and searching for the most interesting clouds. Sheep were common as were other barnyard animals, people were a little more complex and combining two or more clouds with interacting shapes was the granddaddy of cloud gazing. Two rams going head to head. A single sailing ship was real exciting. Two ships sailing across the skies passing each other was a real coup. A true cloud master.

You might be thinking that anyone could say they see something in the clouds and you'd be right. But if the other person couldn't see it, it didn't count. Someone could still cheat and say they didn't see it when really they could see it. But it didn't matter, no one was keeping score. It was just fun to relax with a friend and share ideas.

When I was older I would do the same with my high school sweetheart. Just look at the clouds and dream about the future and the endless possibilities.

It also reminded me of flying kites on a breezy day. With long tails made from strips of cloth for stability. Higher and higher the kite would soar, until we swore it would burn up in the sun with just the burnt end of the string floating back to earth.  Of course, the worst that would happen was the string would break and the kite would go sailing off to parts unknown or get caught in a tree.

Power lines were the worst because we just knew if the kite hit the power lines, a jazillion volts of electricity would come streaking down and electrocute anyone touching the string. Some of us took to tying an old iron key to the string, like Benjamin Franklin, to stop the electricity from reaching the kite pilot and averting certain tragedy.

Most often we would just reel the string back in, a little at a time, until the kite returned to earth. Ready to fly another day.

Want to do something magical? Go fly a kite.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Not My Fault

Day 115

It's going on 10 pm and I have diddled the day away. I arose from my warm bed at a decent hour, at least decent for me, and after morning coffee and much deliberation I decided, rather than begin a new story, to crank up the snow blower and remove the offending white crystals from my deck, walk and driveway. I considered clearing the snow off the car but that would have put more snow in my driveway where I had just cleared it away. So I concocted a plan to take the car for a ride and let the snow blow off as I drove. Then it would be spread down the street and the township could not ticket me for blowing snow from my driveway into the road, as my snow would mix with the road snow and be indeterminable, in a court of law, which snow was mine and which was on the road already. Brilliant.

Having accomplished my original goal and being too exhausted from my labors to endeavor to put in motion the second, and most ingenious (if I do say so), part of my plan. I went inside and after having  had a nice breakfast, I read my second Dan Brown novel until I fell asleep. At this juncture I must point out that although Dan Brown is one of my favorite contemporary authors, I do feel his novel, Deception Point, is a bit long winded. That said, I am enjoying it and should finish it tomorrow. At which time I will begin reading a collection of Mark Twain short stories.

As for the second part of my snow removal brain child. The sun came out, for just an hour or so this afternoon, and disrupted my plans. Whereas the snow originally had been powdery and loose, it now had a bit of a solid crust on top. Being of sound mind, I took the brush from inside my auto and began to thrash the offending snow, quite soundly. Being careful not to accidentally push any off and onto my driveway. I cleared a small round peep hole in front and rear windscreen so that I might back out of my driveway and not ruin someone's day.

As I approached 55 mph my plan was working perfectly until I engaged my wipers to clear the snow from my windshield. It seems the sunshine had melted some of the snow and the resulting slush had turned to ice on my wiper blades. I stopped at the local grocer and cleared the ice from my windshield and wipers. I then decided that as long as I was there, I should pick up an inexpensive bottle of grape nectar to celebrate my cleverness.

I decided on a nice cabernet sauvignon from Yellow Tail vineyards in Australia. It has a crisp flavor not found in the inexpensive American wines. Barefoot vineyards wines are also good (for low cost wines) but as with all inexpensive wines they could use more aging. A mature wine is often less bitter and has more flavor. At least, so I am told. I personally tried to bottle my own wine at one time, but I am too impatient to wait five years or more to drink it. So I save my pennies until one day when I can afford to purchase a more expensive mature wine and I can decide if it's worth the wait. Currently I must say, it is not.

So there you have it. That is the reason I haven't finished writing a new story yet. Now I must finish my wine. And so, adieu.

Until tomorrow,

Ken

Busy Day With Mom

Day 114

Been a long day today. Up early for appointment. Then pick up mom for the monthly trip to Walmart to get her fingernails redone while I do my grocery shopping. Off to Garrett's restaurant for lunch and back home before the snow get's too deep. We had about 4" of snow here.

I have some new ideas for short stories. I plan to put one on the blog soon. OK stayed tuned.

Until tomorrow,

Ken