Today Was Unusual, Which Is Usual for Me
No wakeup call this morning, but had the call last evening to sit with the friend's father. I had things that I had to do and declined. I finished the half of the lawn that I left from Wednesday. After putting the lawn mower away, I went shopping for a few things that I needed.
I tried writing, but each time I decided to actually work on some ideas, they became jumbled and that I a time to let things alone and let them perk and sort themselves out. My words seem stiff and forced if I don't let them come out naturally.
I spent some time watching the helicopter land in the field behind my house, take off, and land again. The helicopter has a long cable with a cutter bar that must be at least twelve feet to fifteen feet long. The helicopter flies along the electric power lines and trims away intrusive bushed and tree limbs that could interrupt the flow of electrical energy.
There was a ground crew that would service the helicopter and the sickle bar when the helicopter would land. I was able to snap a few photos on my cell phone before it finally disappeared over the horizon, hidden by the tree tops.
In the mail today, I got a postcard from a lady that knew I was sharing postcards each morning on Facebook. I will show it on Facebook at my next posting.
Earlier, I bought a pizza earlier and managed to finish it off for supper, washed down by my diet orange soda. I was thinking about taking my nighttime medications and going to sleep. Sometimes my jumble of words will pour out in the morning and actually make some sense, when the phone rang.
If you guessed it was a request for my services to sit with the friend's father. I am glad that the next day is Saturday. No school and that means no babysitting for me. Teachers don't have to go to the job on Saturday.
It's not that I dislike the gentleman or the job of sitting. It is the whole retirement thing. I have turned down offers of employment, because I financially can and because I don't want to work anymore. Writing is what I want to do and even though I haven't made money, I like doing it. I like using my creativity. I like to call myself a wordsmith rather than a writer or author, even though I am both. In my novels, I try to inject subtle humor or play with double meaning names.
I named a murder victim Jake Farmer, because he had been wearing khaki pants. He is in my new book. It is a series of murders that Tommy Two Shoes and his partner Duffy solve. Each homicide occurs at or near the Christmas holiday. It is in the process of being edited and should be on the market before Christmas time. I am not sure of the title, my editor didn't like Homicide For the Holidays.So we'll see what the two of us can come up with.