I’ve gone through the shock, and the horror, and the hurt, and the tears, and now I’m mad as hell!

Below is what Donald J. Trump swore four long years ago. Emphasis mine.

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

I believe he made it with his hand on the Holy Bible. Please note, the oath is not to his wallet, his bank account, or even to him or his office; it’s to a piece of parchment. A very special piece of parchment—The Constitution of the United States. I don’t remember if he added, “So help me God.” but I imagine he did, to show his evangelical buddies what a good God-fearing Christian he is. (Presidents have the option of adding ‘So help me God’ if they want to their oath.)

Trump has pushed the boundaries on many norms, he has gotten away with egregious transgressions because of his enablers. But he crossed the Rubicon when he deliberately incited an attempted coup d’etat of our country Wednesday last. 

He needs to be gone and gone for good, before he can do more damage. He has lied, he has given away classified information, he has aided and abetted felons, he has asked/begged foreign powers to help him in his re-election, he has shamed us on the national stage, and he has done his best to hang on to his power and deny the people of this country the president they voted for. There was no fraud. Well, yes, there was, I believe 3 dead people voted in PA — all voted for Trump.

He has broken his oath. Repeatedly. This last time was too much. He crossed the Rubicon. He provoked an armed attack on the United States of America. There will be investigations and more investigations. There are a great many unanswered questions—who declined to send in the National Guard? Who sent the police out in street uniforms instead of riot gear? Everyone in the area knew this was coming down. Why did it take so long to break it up? Why were there so few cops? Where were the feds? Why did the cops allow the seditionists to walk away instead of herding them into a guarded enclosure? Questions. Too many. This must not happen again. Yes, a major part is the seditionists were white, and therefore they were no real threat. OMG, can you imagine the blood bath if they had been people of color???

He thought, when he appointed all those judges, they would be beholden to him. He had no idea; they all knew what the oath they took meant. He kept referring to them as ‘his’ judges. I can’t even imagine what he must have felt when they continued to follow the Rule of Law, and the Constitution of the United States, and not just didn’t give him the election, but all but laughed his lawyers and him out of court. Talk about trying to commit fraud!

Below is the oath I took. Four times. Note, I, too, swore to defend a piece of parchment, not the President, not my officers, but a piece of parchment. Something else worth noting, for those of you who never served, although we took an oath to obey all orders, if they are not lawful orders, we have recourse and do not have to follow them, according to the UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice).

“I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.^“

Members of Congress, Members of the Cabinet, any federal employee who takes an oath, takes a similar one. ALL swear to protect that piece of parchment. Loyalty is to the Constitution of the United States, not to another human being. Period. Full stop. The end. Fade out. Roll credits.

There should be no place of welcome in our country for White Supremacists, for Anarchists, for Fascists, for people who hate anyone who is different than they are, who worship a different Face of God (or no god) than they do, just because they are different.  It is time to stop being a Victim. It isn’t easy, but it can be done with hard work. You’ll feel better when you succeed. Honest. Trust me.

It is time for the media to stop calling lies something soft like “misstatements.” If a politician lies, they need to be called on it, but the caller needs to be sure their facts are correct. The people who drank Trump’s Kool Aid will have a hard time changing their minds, no matter the facts and how they’re presented. They will probably go into cognitive dissonance. It behooves us to find a gentle way to convince them their ideas need to change. It will take time for the antidote to work.

How do we move on? How do we help those who believe the delusion, who believe the lies? To be honest, I don’t have a clue, but I suspect love and patience will play a large part in it. And move on we must. And we must not let another fascist autocrat try to destroy our country. 

As President Elect Biden said, they are our opponents, they are not our enemy, they are fellow Americans. So, yes, I’m mad as hell. I’ll get over the mad, the hurt, the pain, and then I’ll do what I can to help my fellow Americans and this country we love heal. 

A Buddhist chant from the opening of an illegal temple in the midst of a Khmer Rouge prison camp in Cambodia:

Hatred never ceases by hatred

but by love alone is healed.

This is an ancient and eternal law.

Think on it.

Auntie Lenora and Sammy Brave Dog

And because in all this madness, even Auntie Lenora can find a laugh-out-loud moment now and again. I share one and my Thank You to Randy Rainbow! and his latest parody.

Intro:

January 4, 2021.

For more years than I can remember I have 1. avoided New Year’s Eve Parties, and 2. making New Year’s Resolutions. Things change, good happens.

This year, I attended the first New Year’s Eve party I’ve been to in, well, more years than I can honestly remember. I avoid them for several perfectly good reasons, to me. Not least of which is I hate sharing the roads home with drunk drivers. I also have a dog (or, in years past cats or other dogs) and when people start setting off firecrackers, it frightens them. No, my usual New Year’s Eve is sitting in bed with a good book, and a glass of single malt scotch. 

This year, I skipped the scotch, and went to a party with Merlot. I think there were 8 of us, we all were drinking—some alcoholic drinks, some maybe not. We spent about 3 hours together and had a really good party. Best one I’ve ever been too. Ever. No one got drunk or disorderly, and not one of us had to drive home and share the road, because we were already home. It was great. Good company, many laughs, and we were all socially distanced (by miles, actually), and no masks necessary. I really love Zoom!

And, if that wasn’t enough, I made a New Year’s Resolution! Arrrgh, what is this world coming to??? 

I have long subscribed to A Word A Day (AWAD) by Anu Garg. This year, I decided to write something every day a new word shows up in my inbox. I did not limit myself to what I would write — a sentence, a paragraph, an essay, a poem. Whatever. There are five words a week. And, no, I won’t bore you with my daily writes ;-)I don’t know if black-eyed peas are a fave of yours or not, I enjoy them. I like them now and again, but most especially on New Year’s Day. Many people believe if you eat them on New Year’s Day you’ll have a good year. I certainly won’t quibble on that one. While 2020 wasn’t all that good, I didn’t lose anyone close to me, so it was a good year. My favorite way of eating them is in a salad, the recipe for which I found in my Potluck Cookbook by Emeril Legasse. The recipe is now online and is yummy. Especially good to take to a potluck! Check it out, Black-eyed Pea Salad.

Entertainment:

Peacock: Am on the 10^th and final Columbo season. 

Books (for complete reviews and more reviews, please go to Rainy Day Reads:

I read and reviewed 60 books last year. If I don’t finish a book for whatever reason, I don’t review it. 

First book of the year: Mouse of Cards by Erin Johnson. I needed something light to start the year off, and this is part of the Magic Market Mysteries. Read out of sequence, but that’s OK. Second book of the year, A Raga for George Harrisonby Sharmagne Leland-St. John. Historical and (sometimes) humorous poetry. If I have to choose a fave, it would be, “I Said Coffee.” 

I’m currently reading: the lost spells by Robert MacFarlane and Jackie Morris. It’s a delightful book meant to be read aloud, and the words and art to be savored. Also reading Taro by Blue Spruell—an epic tale of Japan’s legendary hero. So far, very enjoyable. Re-reading The Cooking Gene by Michael W. Twitty. I read it a few years ago, on my eReader, and am reading the hard copy now. If anything, it’s even more enjoyable this time around.

Outro:

And here we are, to the beginning of a new year. Sixteen days till Biden’s inauguration, 355 days until next Christmas. Start shopping now, and miss the madding crowds then, 29 days til Groundhog’s Day. And maybe 6 months and we can all see if we can remember what normal was. In the meantime, stay safe, stay healthy, wear your mask properly and show you care for your neighbors, your friends, and your family.  

More hacks on not getting fogged glasses at AccuWeather.com.

Auntie Lenora 

and 

Sammy Brave Dog

Intro:

Auntie Lenora is so fortunate in her friends and family. She is truly loved. Among the many wonderful gifts she received was a calendar of labyrinths in the sand at Bandon, OR, books—one of poetry and gorgeous artwork (The Lost Spells by Robert MacFarlane and Jackie Morris) and a fantasy trilogy (Queens of Renthia by Sarah Beth Durst) She also received a beautiful coffee mug, some gifts from Trader Joe’s, some fabric, and a small homemade cloth ‘bowl’ filled with tiny scraps (it’s really a thread holder for when trimming seams, etc.)! OMG, there is something terribly wrong with Auntie Lenora, because that was probably the biggest excitement of the day! Yes, wee scraps, maybe ½” x 3”. You’ll be the first to see the quilts those are used in;-) And a jar of homemade plum ketchup. Oooooh, yessssss. But the bestest gifts of all were the gifts of friendship and familyship she has with her friends and families, of which you, dear reader, are a member. Thank you.

I recently signed up for a free membership with Medium.com. I am only allowed so many free articles per month, unless I pay. So far, I’m not quite there. I tell you this because I’ve linked one of their articles below, and you, too, may be asked to subscribe for the free issues.

They do have an interesting article, Should We Keep Separating the Art from the Icon? —by Pandora Domeyko. A very interesting article about Salvatore Dali and Coco Channel. By now, I’m sure most of us know that she was a Nazi sympathizer. Was she really, or was she a survivor? But how many of us knew Dali was a Fascist? A true believer in Mussolini, Franco, and Hitler! 

In this day of cancelling people, especially old, dead, white guys, how far do we take it? Do we boycott Channel clothes and perfumes because she believed in the wrong side of history? Do we stop admiring Dali for the same reason? Oh, according to this article, he was something else. Franco, whom he not only admired but supported tortured his sister, killed a brother, and he (Dali) was known to beat his wife. Do I now have to stop admiring his art? All of the things he’s accused of fostering, I’m against.

Do I stop watching a movie I’m enjoying if I discover during intermission (commercial breaks) that Harvey Weinstein had his (allegedly) lecherous fingers involved in the making of said movie? Do I quit reading my books by an author I’ve long admired because he’s been accused (credibly, I’d say, since he at least apologized) of sexual misconduct?

I think the last one is the one that really made me stop and think about it. Really think about it. This particular poet/author is, among other things, a bona fide jerk. I have good friends who know him and I trust their judgement. OK, he’s a jerk. I’ve been known to be slightly off base myself at times. I’ve said things I wish I hadn’t. Sometimes I didn’t realize I’d said something hurtful, but I tried, when I found out and when I could, to apologize. But damn! This guy can write! Especially poetry. Is there a way to cancel him, but not his works?And Dali. Two of his religious paintings are not only two of my favorite religious (Christian) paintings, but probably the only two of his paintings, as well as the only two religious (Christian) paintings, I really like. One is Sacrament of the Last Supper and the other is Christ of Saint John of the Cross.

As for Channel, I’m not overly fond of perfumes, but I did love her LBD (little black dress) and some of her suits when I was younger, slimmer, and working for a living. Not, mind, that I could ever afford one, but I could afford some knockoffs 😉

I no longer dream of meeting said author, but if we both have a piece of work in the same collection, I certainly won’t pull mine in protest. And I will remain pleased and proud that we’re together between the covers. 

Of course, you know what happened to the last perfect person who walked on our planet. They crucified him. So, I guess I’m not going to totally cancel any of the above, or any of the old white male supremacists, etc., either. But neither am I going to venerate them. It’s not my place to forgive or not forgive Thomas Jefferson for the treatment of his slaves and children. I don’t have to like it, because he knew damn well what he was doing and why. He was a selfish sumbitch. However, his philosophies helped form one of the, if not the, greatest nations ever! I love his art (our country), just not him. 

I will never think of Robert E. Lee as anything but a bone fide Traitor to our country. Only those he personally wronged (and there were many) can forgive him, and they’re all dead, now. 

I will continue to read Sherman Alexie, but I will no longer rush out to buy his latest book as soon as it’s available. I’ll take my time. He did admit, and apologize, for his transgressions once brought to the public’s attention, for that he gets credit.

All those mentioned above, and the uncountable others not mentioned, and all those who have committed crimes, I firmly believe they should be tried, and if found guilty, sentenced appropriately. But I think the idea of cancelling is as much personal as social—maybe more so. If I may paraphrase an old saying from the days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, “Love the art, not the artist.” I may not support the artist but I will admire the art. I think we all need to think about it before we cast that first stone. 

Entertainment:

Peacock: Still enjoying Columbo! I’m just about through season 10. 😉

Books (for complete reviews and more reviews, please go to Rainy Day Reads:

Pretty Little Fliers —by Erin Johnson, Ms. Johnson has created a fun universe where it appears everyone has magic of one sort or another—except our heroine. She had magic, at one time, and then ran into a spell that deleted it. At one time, our heroine had a life, a job as a lawyer, the ability to shift, an affianced—then she met someone who didn’t like her and wham! zam! not anymore ma’am! So, she gets to live in the slums as a fraudulent pet psychic, gets involved in a murder, falls for the hunka hunka cop who is sweet, but borderline clueless, and I’m not gonna tell you anymore!

His Holiness the Dalai Lama —by Comcast NBC Universal (a transcript), I’ve read other books by/about HH the Dalai Lama that I thought were better; that said, I think this is a good intro into his life, and how he ended up where he is today. It’s also a good intro to Tibetan Buddhism.

A Tale of Two Reapers —by Jack Wallen. Every year I give me a new book from me. That way I know I’ll get at least one new book I will enjoy. This year’s Christmas present from me to me was A Tale of Two Reapers. I could not have picked a better book to curl up with on the sofa and read, cover to cover. I love a good urban fantasy that makes me laugh out loud several times through the book. On most pages, actually.

Outro:

New Year’s Eve is just a few days away, and then it will be 2021. It just has to be better than 2020, and yet, there were many bright spots in 2020. Be sure you look for yours, and when you find them, hold them tight, and do your best to forget the pain of the year. I’ve made new friends (via zoom groups), had two books published, found many things to laugh about. I choose to remember the laughter over the tears when possible. So please, have a Happy New Year!!! Next week, will be a word or three about Auntie Lenora’s New Year’s Resolution.

Auntie Lenora 

and 

Sammy Brave Dog

Chinese Goose, “On the count of three, everybody sing.”

Intro:

…for in January we diet! Happy December! We actually made it—only a few more days to go and it will be 2021! We’ve made it this far; we can make it to next year. Honest. Trust me.

Most of us will overindulge during the holidays—we’ll eat too many rich foods, too many calories, but, what the heck, come January, we’ll diet and be miserable together.

And, since I’m talking food, I want to share a link with you. It’s from Emergence Magazine, a free online magazine, by the way. The article is Seasons of the Monastic Table. It begins with a quote from Joy Harjo, “Remember the earth whose skin you are,” and goes on to give us seasonal menus focused on plant-based ingredients and the recipes to which animal protein may be added if so desired. Monastic meals across the planet are simple, made with fresh (or fermented) ingredients, often grown and raised on the grounds. I became enthralled with the photography, then got to reading the article and recipes. If you like to cook, please, check it out. If you like to eat, well, Bon Apetit! And if food just isn’t your thing, check it out for the photography. It will feed your soul, if not your belly.

Since we’re now in December, and most of us will celebrate the Holidays according to our own Traditions, let me tell you what I would like to find under my tree this year. Yes, Virginia, I have a tree, complete with lights! It takes me hours to haul it out, decorate it, put it up every year, just so you can enjoy it. OK, it takes me a couple minutes to haul it out of storage, wipe it down, and plug it in. It doesn’t smell as good as a live tree, but it also doesn’t take up as much room in my wee apartment, nor is it as messy. And wee dog isn’t at all interested in marking it as his! 😉 (but it is made from wood)

What do I want under my tree on Solstice/Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Whatever morning? You. Not the physical you, not right now, but you—safe, healthy, and alive. Friends are too valuable to fritter away.

Speaking of fritters, I like apple best, followed by cherry. Odd, now that I think on it, that’s the only way I like cherries! When I was a kid, I liked cherries, until the Powers of the Day started putting cherry flavoring in medicine. Ruined a perfectly good fruit as far as I’m concerned. Not to mention the medicine. Hmmm, wonder what cranberry fritters would taste like?

I really don’t need anything beyond friends and family and all those (virtual) hugs. Speaking of hugs, take your right hand and grasp your left shoulder, at the same time use your left hand and grasp your right shoulder. Now, squeeze. Gently but firmly. And there you have it, a virtual hug from your Auntie Lenora. Repeat as often as wanted. Please, stay safe and healthy. Make Auntie Lenora happy, otherwise she’s wont to whine and cry. Not a pretty sight. Or a melodious sound. 

Entertainment:

Netflix & Amazon: I haven’t been watching so much Netflix. Or Amazon. Do you have any recommendations? I need something to put on my list to watch. Please leave a comment and recommend some shows and give me a few words as to why you think I’ll like it/them. Many thanks.

Peacock: Still enjoying Columbo. I know they have other shows, but haven’t a clue what they are 😉

Books: I’m reading two poetry books at the same time. They complement each other nicely. The first is Another America by Barbara Kingsolver. This is a bi-lingual book—the left page is in Spanish; the right page is in English. I read this many years ago, and just pulled it down to read again. I read one or two, think about them, then pick up my copy of Songs Older Than Any Known Singer by John Phillip Santos, also read earlier. Those are my reads before turning off the light for the night. I have enjoyed the prose of both authors and am enjoying their poetry (again) and together. Be sure to check Rainy Day Reads for the latest book reviews.

Outro:

I’m pretty religious about wearing my mask when I go out, even just to walk the wee beastie. I don’t socialize except electronically, if I meet someone while out with dog, we maintain proper distancing. I keep shopping to a minimum and for essentials and only where everyone wears masks. So how did I catch a freaking cold? Beats me. But it is a cold, not Covid19. But it could have been the novel coronavirus. And I’m being extra careful not to share.

We can see the light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, but please, just because vaccines are coming, full speed ahead, or half-speed, or even quarter-speed, but they are coming so in the meantime wear your mask, practice social distancing, wash your hands, yadda, yadda, yadda until everyone is vaccinated with BOTH shots and this thing is licked!

Remember, you are an important component in Auntie Lenora’s life 😉

Be sure to come by again for another Coffee Break Escape!

Auntie Lenora

Intro:

Indeed, I did have a quiet and alone Thanksgiving. Note, I said, “alone”—not “lonely.” At some point in my life, I realized I was probably going to be alone more than with someone, and I’d best learn to like myself. It took a while, but I succeeded, and although I dearly love company, I also have no problem being alone. Well, I do have a dog, but let’s face it, as cute as he is, he really isn’t a stimulating conversationalist.

Yes, I had beans for supper. Actually, black bean salsa, except I’ve modified the recipe so much, I’m not sure what to call it anymore. Someday, I hope to find the recipe again, in the meantime, there are several recipes online for black bean salsas with corn. Except for the canned beans (drained, any color) and the canned corn (drained, any color), I add all sorts of fresh veggies—tomatoes, onion, avocado, cilantro, lime juice, olive oil, garlic, bell pepper (any color), salt, pepper, and anything else that sounds good—like some chipotle powder. It’s quick, easy, very forgiving, and yummmmm. I had a helping of that, and a boneless pork chop.

My neighbor brought me a plate of white and dark turkey he roasted and some homemade-from-scratch dressing. The turkey is very good (still working on it) but the dressing. Oh, em, gee! that dressing was to die for! Actually, I think I have one or two bites left. I’ve been parsing it out to make it last longer 😉

Alas, I did not make, or eat, any kimchi. sigh.

Sammy had salmon kibble with a fresh (cooked) baby carrot mixed in with it. He loves his carrots.

I received a text from a friend who has had some serious health issues the last couple three years and has spent way more time in a wheelchair than she can enjoy. Well, she spent the day at her brother’s, and negotiated the whole visit sans wheelchair. She now sees the light at the end of the tunnel as sunshine, not the headlamp of an on-coming train! And her dog, who has been staying with her brother, was ecstatic his mommy came to see him. She, needless to say, was equally happy to see him. Let’s hear it for perseverance and physical therapy!!!

As if that wasn’t enough good news for my day, and believe me, it was terrifically good news, the last thing I did before turning off the light was check Amazon. Yes! My book, Marking the Hours, A Collection of Poems, was listed and is available. And the new page is posted in My Books, above. 

And then, yes, there’s more, the books I ordered from the publisher arrived Saturday morning! It was cheaper for them to print and ship by air from India than to have it printed and shipped in the States

So, today is Cyber Monday. Order books. Books for you, books for gifts, books, books, books. And be sure that whatever books you read, to write and post a review. Reviews help sell books. Reviews are virtual hugs to writers. Writers are lonely people. Writers like hugs.

Indeed, 2020 has been a year of sucking bilgewater, but there are good times within that year, sometimes you must look for them, sometimes they arrive on a platinum platter! I admit, it helps to keep the eyes open and look for those wonderful bits of goodness, but they are there!

Entertainment:

Peacock: If you don’t know about this channel, check it out. It’s from NBC and is free. I’ve been watching Columbostarting from S1, E1. I think I’ve seen every episode at least 3 times, probably more like 6. Shucks, I even know half the dialog before it’s spoken. Oh, one more thing…

Netflix: Still watching The Good Detective, but, frankly, it’s getting darker than I want right now. Must see if they’ve uploaded the rest of season 5 of Lucifer yet. 

Books: Got about half-way through Stzrok’s book. Am lending it to a friend. Too depressing. Read 200 or so pages of poetry by Shirley Kaufman, Roots in the Air, New & Selected Poems. Some great poems in the book. She lived for several years in Jerusalem, and many of the poems in this book are from that time. Check Rainy Day Reads for latest reviews.

Outro:

Have a great Cyber Week. Let your fingers do the shopping. Have I mentioned I have two new books of poetry out? /snark/ 😉 If you’d like a signed copy of either or both, please contact me.

And please, stay safe, stay healthy, and wear your mask. Please, wear your mask. It helps stop the spread of Covid19, it also helps prevent the wearer from picking it up!

If you enjoy this blog, please subscribe, and share with your friends. Be sure to come again for another coffee break escape with

Auntie Lenora

PSA: THANK YOU for voting. I don’t care for whom you voted, only that you did. Remember, if you didn’t vote, you are not entitled to voice an opinion on anything that happens until the next election at which time you will vote. Won’t you?

Intro:

First the Sad news—Alex Trebek died yesterday (8 Nov 20). My very first Sister of Choice (SOC) Val, and I used to watch Jeopardy! together and win and lose fortunes every time. Of course, we were in the safety of her living room or mine. And the money was never collected – or paid. Not only did we learn a lot of interesting facts; we had fun, and it was all due to Alex Trebek. Several years ago, I took a 5-day seminar taught by a woman who had worked as a writer on Jeopardy! and she had only wonderful things to say about him. He was friendly, professional, smart, nice, caring — pick your positive descriptor, and I’m sure it would fit. The world was a brighter place, a kinder place, a more fun place because Alex Trebek was here for eighty years. He will be missed. As Uncle George (Takei) said on his Twitter account, “The heavens have all the answers now.”

Now for the Good news. Really — I put together a collection of poetry and had it edited by a professional editor, who made some very good suggestions both in content and order of presentation. She then suggested a publisher, who had done her last book, so I sent the updated ms off to the publisher. They acknowledged receipt immediately, and I settled in to wait for their decision, guessing sometime after the new year.

While at the computer Saturday morning, at 8.20, I received an email from the publisher, with my proof copies attached!!! While sitting and trying to catch my breath, just seconds later, I was staring, pretty much unseeing, at the tv in my office, just as NBC called Pennsylvania, and the election, for Biden.

Now, as most of you know, that is very good news to me. I realize some of you probably feel like I felt four years ago, but I think we’ll find Biden will be a peacemaker, if we all pitch in and help. I survived the previous four years, and I’m more than willing to try to help you survive the coming four if you’d like. That’s what friends do.

Wait. Wait. There’s more! I’m in a poetry group in the Tri-Cities, The Tarweed Poets, and three of us are putting out a book of our poetry. We hope to have it available before Thanksgiving. You’ll be among the very first to know when you can order it, and how.

Was looking for some weather specific photos, and came across these from a few months ago, when it was somewhat warmer. I do enjoy watching the Great Blues and Great Egrets over on the island. This handsome guy is a Great Blue Heron.

Entertainment:

Sigh, no movies/tv shows beyond news this week. But, I did read a book 😉

Books: 

See Rainy Day Reads for reviews and mayhaps a bit of snark. Who? Me? Snark?

I’m still reading Peter Strok’s book, Compromised. I had to put it down for a bit, as it was getting to be too much politics. I did, however buy a copy of The Man She Married: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist, by Alison James. I bought it on Friday and finished it on Friday. By the time you read this, my review will be posted.

A friend put me wise to a new (to me) site, Freebooksy. You can sign up for a newsletter every morning containing a list of free books for several forms of eReaders. You choose your e-reading format when you join. You choose the genres which interest you the most. If you’re a bookworm, check them out. You can also sign up for heavily discounted books.

And remember, if you like a book, please write and post a review. It doesn’t have to be a college-level critical review, just something as to why you liked it. Reviews are virtual hugs for the authors. They mean a lot!  

Outro:

We are now having over 100,000+  Covid19-positive cases per day. It should be a no-brainer; masks help stop the spread. Combined with social distancing, hand-washing, and common sense, we can slow the spread down quickly, and keep it down. This virus is a painful killer, of small children to old farts and fartesses and everyone in between. Young, old, healthy, not so healthy. Please, be a patriot and wear your mask.

Go forth and have a great week. Do good, get into good trouble if you need to, read a new book, better yet, write the book you really want to read. Remember, Santa will be here too soon (as well as the bills), and I hope to have two options for your want list soon. You do want one or both of the books, don’t you?

If you enjoy this blog, please share with friends. 

Auntie Lenora

a flash fiction of about 940 words

by Lenora Rain-Lee Good

It was a beautiful, crisp October morning, the houses in the village were decorated with ghosts and witches and hand carved Jack O-Lanterns. All but The Manse, reputed by many to be truly haunted, which stood currently vacant of tenants and looked dark and lonely on top of the hill. I had just opened my door to walk to work when the phone rang, “Jan, Marcus here, can you come down to my office tomorrow at three o’clock? Mrs. Gooch died, and she wanted you present when I read the will.”

“Me? Sure, I’ll be there.” Mrs. Gooch died? She’d been around forever, and it never dawned on me she’d die. She was too much an institution in the village. She was, well, she was just too damn ornery to die. But die she did. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she wanted me at the reading of her will. We weren’t really friends. I just worked for her off and on as she needed help.

The phone call raised memories of how we met. I smiled at the comparison of those memories to specters and Halloween. I was a kid, with my first paper route. Mrs. Gooch was known to dislike people, especially children. “Too noisy,” she said. “No manners.” The boy who had the route before me said she was a real witch and he rode his bike by her place as fast as he could and just threw the paper – if she wanted it, she could find it. My mom told me to deliver the papers to the front doors of my customers. Mom was right. I got big tips at the end of the year, especially from Mrs. Gooch.

One summer day, she saw me pushing my lawn mower over to one of the neighbors. “Jan,” she called out, “would you be interested in mowing my lawn? I’m very particular about how I want it done.” She was, too. She wanted it mowed first in this direction, then in that direction. And she tipped well at the end of the season.

We always smiled and waved at each other, and she wanted to know all about my classes when I came home on breaks. She seemed genuinely interested, but not overly friendly. While I was away at Veterinary school, she decided she’d had enough of the stairs of The Manse, and bought a new, modern, one-storey ranch. She used The Manse, as she called the old Victorian Painted Lady, as a rental. She had a handyman-chauffeur who did nothing but drive her around. I spent quite a bit of my spare time fixing and painting the old place. Vet school was expensive, and her generous pay and tips certainly helped. It didn’t matter, as no one wanted to stay in it. “Haunted,” they said. “Strange noises. Things go thump in the night.” Hogwash! I thought, but kept my comments to myself, after all, there are only so many animals for a Veterinarian to see in our village.

That old house was well over a hundred years old. I’m sure it had its share of creaks and groans, but ghosts? I think the tenants were city folk who had never lived in an old house and had no idea of the sounds made when it heated and cooled. I looked up at the old house, imposing at the top of the hill, and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live there. I hoped whoever got the house would keep it, and not tear it down for apartments or condos. Then, again, Mrs. Gooch was enough of a grouch she might come back and haunt it. I smiled at the thought as I walked toward Marcus’ office the next day.

By the time I arrived at the law office of Marcus Whitworth, two others waited—Sally, Mrs. Gooch’s housekeeper and Bill, her chauffeur. They wore expectant smiles and faux tears and were positively giddy with anticipation at their expected new riches. After all, Mrs. Gooch had no known family, only her two servants of several years. They openly questioned my presence, sure that I wanted to rob them of their anticipated inheritance. Marcus cleared his throat, glanced at each of us, and then proceeded with the business at hand. “Mrs. Anabella Theodora Metz Gooch specifically asked the three of you to be present when her will was read. Since you are all here, we’ll get started. Sally, Mrs. Gooch said you are to receive $1,000.00. There would have been more, she said, but she knew you regularly dipped into the change bowl. And Bill, you get $1,000.00. She said that if you hadn’t used the house gas card for your vehicle, there would have been more. My secretary has your checks ready; you may sign for them on the way out. Jan, you inherit the rest of her estate. The home in which she lived at the time of her death, all her belongings, her investments, The Manse – well, we’ll go over it later, in detail. She said you were the only person in the village who treated her as if you liked her, even though she wasn’t likable. You, my friend, are very, very rich.”

Sally and Bill stood, glowered at me, and huffed out of the office; I sat, too stunned to move.

“Oh, one more thing.” A twinkle appeared in Marcus’s eye. “In the attic of The Manse, is an old record player set to a timer. Mrs. Gooch suggests you remove them before you move in—or rent it out. Here’s the key to the padlock on the attic door.”

Happy Belated Halloween, y’all!

Entertainment:

Did you notice this is my Halloween issue? Ya know, it written before Halloween, but not posted before. Still, in this time of Covid19, we can stretch a holiday a bit. Can’t we? So, being surfeited on news (i.e., politics and covid, covid, covid, covid), I turned over to Hallmark Movies and Mysteries the other night, needing a nice cozy murder. Uh, no. What I got were Christmas love stories. They couldn’t wait until Black Friday, let alone Halloween, even. Oh, well. Predictable, and no politics, no covid, no serious angst beyond will the star-crossed lovers realize their mistrake and turn to each other in the last two minutes???  (Spoiler: Yes! Yes, they will.)

Books:

See Rainy Day Reads for reviews and mayhaps a bit of snark. Who? Me? Snark?

Have started Compromised by Peter Stzrok. The Introduction was fascinating, as is the first part of the book. He’s a very good writer, at least at the beginning. And so far, I’m learning things I didn’t already know, or having things I suspicioned verified.

Quill and Parchment isn’t a book, but a beautiful online magazine. They have published three of my poems this November. Please feel free to check out mine and read all the others at http://quillandparchment.com/members/memberink.html No politics, no covid, just nice poetry.

Outro:

Masks save lives. That’s proven fact. Remember, the lives you save may be your very own ghosts, goblins, zombies, or vampyres — wear your fracking mask!!! Get a cloth one, it won’t cut down on your oxygen level one whit! Neither will the KN95s. It may actually make breathing in the super cold and or polluted air easier. Wear the same ones that surgeons wear—they certainly aren’t going to wear something to cut down their oxygen. Besides, they’re cute and sexy. The masks. And, well, some surgeons 😉

If you missed the Disney video last week, here it is for an encore performance:

Show your love, wear a mask! (Thanks, Bill for the video! 😉

THOU SHALT NOT COVID THY NEIGHBOR’S LIFE–WEAR THY MASK! (Swiped from the www.)

If you enjoy this blog, please feel free to share.

Auntie Lenora

For those who would rather listen than read–

I read an article the other day that had me in snickers for a while, and then I got angry, and then I thought to myself, Self, this is worth writing a post about. So here ya go.

Monica Hesse wrote a Perspective piece for the Washington Post which may be paywalled, so I found it via another source and will share that link here.

At first I was dumbfounded, gobsmacked if you prefer, that men actually think wearing a mask makes them less masculine. That was the giggle part. Apparently, it doesn’t take more than a small piece of fabric tied over their faces to emasculate them. Then I got to thinking about life as I’ve lived it, and life as I know it and I got angry.

Now, I’m speaking in generalities, so please don’t get your knickers in a knot, unless the shoe fits, in which case wear the damn shoe and untie your knickers! But for too many years male privilege has been to blame the woman/victim—for anything they don’t want to accept responsibility for. She was raped? Why did she dress that way? Show her hair? Her ankle? Lock her up, save male virtue from itself because the men can’t control it, so they must control her.

Wear a mask? Hey! Real men aren’t afraid of no stinkin’ little virus. YOU wear the damn mask. Remember, the Lone Ranger wore a mask. True, it covered his eyes, not his mouth, but it was a mask. Cowboys wore and wear masks, ie, bandanas, over the lower part of their face. Useful for keeping out dust (and possibly Covid 19) and when they weren’t paid, for robbing the local bank or cattle baron. 

But, but, do they not understand that the mask does not protect the wearer, it protects the other person? Men don’t wear masks because their wife/mother/children/significant others/parents do, so why should they worry? 

I’ll agree, masks aren’t sexy, they chafe, they’re hot, they aren’t really comfortable, but they are a lot less uncomfortable than Covid 19. And public safety should be worth something more than a fragile ego.

And if a mask, a mall piece of fabric, makes a male feel somehow emasculated, I remind him (and you) of the late Eleanor Roosevelt who said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Substitute the word ‘inferior’ with whatever you need. Making men feel manly in a mask is the man’s problem, and the man’s responsibility to overcome, it is a public-health issue. Period. Punkt! Full stop. Roll credits. Man up!

Many men really do have a problem accepting responsibility for their own actions. That’s why they try to turn women into mommies, so mommy can take the responsibility, kiss it, and make it all better. If your man doesn’t wear a mask, find a new man. One who will wear a mask and show you and the world that he cares for you and your children, that he cares for his neighbors, that he cares. Period. 

Now, I admit, I’m not a fan of Dick Cheney, never have been, but I’m open to changing that fanship, at least in this case. #RealMenWearMasks. Yeeeee-haw! Ride ‘em cowboy! Way to go Mr. Vice President!

Dick Cheney, swiped from Liz Cheney’s tweet

And to all of ‘my’ men who care enough about me, their spouses, the public, and who know what a Real Man is and wear those freaking masks, THANK YOU!!! Any man who doesn’t feel the need to bully others into agreeing with him; any man who when he makes a mistake is willing to admit it, say he’s sorry, and do what he can to rectify the situation; any man who isn’t intimidated by a wee bit of fabric over his nose and mouth; any man who can make me laugh—even Dick Cheney—is a real man and one of ‘my’ men!

Auntie Lenora