Friday, May 24, 2019
2:31 p.m.

As I struggle with an over-a-week-long bout of insomnia, arthritis pain that I blame entirely on this crazy not-springtime weather and a couple of stressors--or more!-- I realized with some surprise that this is the start of Memorial weekend!

First of all, not to diminish the significance of the actual Memorial Day holiday, I am not a wild fan of this weekend.

Historically, in my family, at least, it seems that Memorial weekend is the universe's time to attempt to add one person or another to the list of those being remembered on Memorial Day.

One year it was an RV accident that left my brother skinned from chin-to-toe. Great start to summer vacation.

One year it was a nephew ingesting a swallow of gasoline that put him in the hospital with pneumonia. Hint--don't put gasoline in a drink bottle to use for primer when doing engine work.

Then there was the year that my 20-month-old daughter fell over dead on the front steps of our house. She is now a 36-year-old mother of three, but she was dead. No discernible heart beat, no respiration and no apparent cause! Thank God I knew how to perform CPR on a toddler. Thank God we lived in a small town with an absolutely great ambulance service and brilliant EMTs. Thank God my parents lived close enough to also race over so my father could spell me on CPR.

I was later told that CPR kept her brain oxygenated, or the resulting brain damage could have left her better off not living through the experience. Multiple tests later revealed no underlying cause for what was most likely a seizure.

Memorial weekend has certainly been memorable. I could add to this list, but why? Suffice to say, when this weekend rolls around I get very nervous and suggest that everyone stay home and watch movies and eat cold sandwiches, because heaven only know what could happen if you turn on the stove or something.

Better yet, stay in bed and read a good book. Don't move much. Don't climb ladders. Don't fix your car. Wait until Tuesday to shower!

BE CAREFUL!!!

Am I being paranoid?

Okay, have a good weekend. But be careful, be smart, be safe.
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3:12 p.m.

Speaking of the holiday weekend, there were probably a lot of cool things scheduled for people to enjoy. Too bad Mother Nature is such a party-pooper!
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4:08 p.m.

Gosh, I have gotten so irritated with government bs lately. I think a lot of things could be settled if some people would just learn some basic math skills.

Tariffs paid by US consumers does NOT net the US more money from imports. Duh.

Giving farmers relief money instead of removing tariffs will NOT help farmers in the long run, and will in fact not even help much in the short term. If they can't sell their product, they still LOSE money. Duh.

Like the song says--"Nothing from nothing leaves nothing."

We need help. Fire everyone and start over.
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Sorry. No sleep makes me grumpy.
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Too many rainy days in a row have made me blue, and now I am listening to sad songs. Somebody stop me!

No, seriously, don't. Sometimes we need that, don't we? A song or two that brings a tear to the eye, brings a memory to mind, it's cleansing sometimes. It's not my usual writing soundtrack, but today it beats the hell out of listening to the western re-runs in the background or anything too raucous like hard rock.

Let's face it, music is powerful. And sometimes, streaming on YouTube, I find things that are worth their weight in gold.

I recently got to meet my musical hero, Alice Cooper, and it was amazing to me mostly because of all the personal history I can associate with certain songs of his. This is probably true of all music lovers--we can hear a song and it will trigger memories of a moment, the feelings and even the thoughts going through our heads at the time.

Some songs remind me of being in a band with a few friends. I was the drummer, but I learned quite a few songs on guitar from the guys. Right now, I'm listening to Stairway to Heaven and wishing I still had the sheet music, because I never learned the bar properly. But, you know--house fire.

Doggone it, that fire took a lot!

I remember I went to Fanelli's in Rock Springs --it's gone now!!!-- to buy that sheet music, because Tom and I kept arguing about the lyrics.

Oddly enough, I still haven't listened to "Nothing from Nothing." Hahaha.

Okay, there ya go. Dedicated to the GOP.

Nothing from Nothing

I need a nap.

Until we meet again!

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

1:03 p.m.

It seems that my optimal sleep hours are from 4:00 a.m. to 7:30 a.m. I'm not even promised that much, but if I can get it, I'll take it. Then I take the dog out, go crawl back in bed and hope for at least a little cat nap before starting the day.

I was SOOOO sleepy yesterday that I was sure I'd go to sleep early. Ha!

Eventually, this bout of insomnia will pass and I will sleep at least four hours before waking up. I will wake up completely psyched and hope for the zillionth time that this bout is the last one.

I'm 59. I have been hoping this for at least 50years.

Ah, life is funny, isn't it?

I have a theory about why I'm this way. As a child, I was always afraid I would miss something if I went to sleep too early. A conversation, a visitor, a TV show. Also, I wanted to read and read and read some more--as if the book would disappear overnight if I didn't finish it quickly enough.

Fighting sleep was a big part of my nights.

Guess I won!! Now that I've decided that nothing too important will happen in the wee hours of the night while everyone else is asleep, my subconscious has been programed to MISS NOTHING. Stay awake, just in case.

I did it to myself. I just know it.

Dang, I was a dumb youngster! Hahaha!

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4:23 p.m.

Oh, my goodness, what happened to my day? I have been busy, and have accomplished so much...nothing.

And now I'm going to go feed my parents! I'm feeling lazy, so I'm thinking pizza. I doubt if either of them are going to protest.

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5:36 p.m.

Pizza! Peeps fed. Cookies in the oven. Better late than never for a little burst of productivity!

Got my tickets for Denver. I have to tell you, two trips in a month is going to wear me out. I don't know how true frequent fliers do it. I worked for a doctor back in the day who used to fly out of Denver International Airport multiple times a month, and I used to think that would be so cool, traveling all the time.

Have you been to DIA? It is huge! There are three concourses, and you take the underground train from the main terminal to get to any of them. Regardless of which you're flying from, A, B or C, there are multiple gates. If you're flying to Rock Springs, Wyoming, your gate is going to be anywhere from Numbers 80 to 96 or so.

What this means is you're going to take the underground, ride to your terminal, go upstairs and see gate numbers starting somewhere between 30-40, and then go one direction or other to get to your gate. You've got to get 40-50 gates from your starting point!

If you're lucky, all the automatic sidewalks will be functioning. If you're really lucky, someone driving a ride-along will pick you up. If not--this is a LONG walk, if you're gate is number 88.

That was my gate last time I flew back to Rock Springs, and I lucked out enough to find all the moving sidewalks working fine. There's still a lot of walking in between those sections, though. If you're carrying a bag, it sure does seem to gain weight!

Once I got to my gate, I grabbed a coffee and settled in to read. About 10 minutes before my flight, I got a message that my flight had been moved to gate 80. Off I went, trekking my way back to the new gate.

Just as I was sitting down, a new message came in saying that my flight would now board at gate 94.

Oh, my God!

If only I hadn't seen the first message, I would have walked from gate 88 to 94. Now I had to walk from 80 to 94.  I should add that once you get past gate 79, you go downstairs again and there are no more mobile sidewalks. You are on your own.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I don't mind a walk. But I was sure wishing I had checked my bag! (And it wasn't all that big, but, jeez! It's awkward.)

Anyway, I do this in reverse when I land at DIA, but at least they can't make me move from my seat until the plane decides on a gate! Ha ha!

Here's what makes the trip, in either direction, so bizarre. Rock Springs airport has 2 gates. Not a typo! One, two. Two gates. Terminal, baggage check, baggage claim--all there in one building that might take you a whole five minutes to walk around the outside of. 

Last time I flew out, when I got inside, there were four other people there. No staff. Nothing. I felt like I'd stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Staff showed up less than an hour before my flight, checked everyone in and did the old search the bag, remove the shoes routine in minutes, and then it was read until you board and away we go.

Believe me when I tell you, after that beginning, arriving at crowded, bustling, huge DIA is a bit of a shock, even though I've been there numerous times and knew what was coming.

It's just as much of a shock coming in to Rock Springs after spending a couple of hours at DIA.

I don't suffer jet lag really. It's more of a system overload due to contrast.

And I'll be doing it again very soon. Dentist and doctor. Whee!

This is crazy, but I am looking forward to the dentist. I will be so happy to swap this temporary crown for the permanent one. It is odd. My tongue keeps wanting to remind me that it is odd. Plus, I can't use my electric toothbrush on it, so I just use the regular brush, and I really think it doesn't do the job as well as that battery-powered tooth-cleaning machine.

I'm hoping for a day of fun at Denver Pop Culture Con while I'm there. Maybe this time I will get to meet Zachary Levi. Missed him in Salt Lake last month.

I get to sleep in my very own bed a few nights in a row. Maybe I will actually sleep!!!

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Well, have a happy rest of your day, everyone.

Until we meet again!

Walking Out

by Paula Shablo

Holly woke up.

The sun beat down on her, and she realized she was naked even as she was taking note of the pain of sunburn. The swell of her breasts was red, raw--close to blistering.

"What the hell?" Holly gasped, rolling to her side and making the first of many attempts to rise.

When she finally succeeded, she swayed and bent at the waist, feet apart, grasping her bare knees and gasping with pain. She was nauseated and finally lost her battle with a rising gorge, vomiting copious amounts of muck between her feet.

"Sweet Jesus!" Holly groaned. Still grasping her knees, she shuffled herself backward, wiping her feet carefully in thigh-high grasses as she went. The grass was still slightly damp with dew close to the ground, and as she brushed through it, the sweet, green smell wafted up around her.

Holly sank down in the grass and lay on her belly, letting the cool dampness of the grass soothe her burning breasts and thighs, which had apparently gotten the most exposure to the sun. She didn't care why; it may have been positioning in relation to grass blades, for all she knew. It didn't matter.

Everything hurt. The sunburn on her breasts was the most prominent of her pains, but she was perfectly aware of the rest of her body, and finally rolled over enough to take stock.

She was covered with bruises and scrapes. Crusted blood covered several places on her body, and matted her pubic hair. An exploration of her neck and the back of her head revealed thick, sticky blood, not yet completely dried, and a large area of swelling behind her right ear.

Swelling, yes, but... well, it also felt... dented.

"I'm dead," Holly whispered. "At least, someone believes I am."

Someone.

Who?

She sat in the grass, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms resting atop them and her chin on her wrist. She stared straight ahead.

Holly was nowhere.

Obviously, she was somewhere, but she didn't recognize anything. She took in the vista in front of her, moving only her eyes. Rolling hills, lush green grass, various clumps of small white flowers, and off in the distance, a stone fence that meandered up and over a hillock.

"Fence," Holly whispered. "Someone built it sometime."

She rose to her feet again, more steadily this time, and shuffled her way back to where she'd awakened, searching the ground as she went. She was hoping for any sign of her clothing, but didn't see anything.

"Damn it!" She was peripherally aware that she was speaking aloud, and didn't give two cents worth of crap that it was crazy--the sound of her own voice was reassuring.

"If I don't keep talking," she said, "I'm probably going to start screaming."

She certainly wanted to scream; it made perfect sense to want to scream in a situation like this, didn't it?

"I've been dumped. Left for dead."

"Obviously," Holly replied to herself, her tone sarcastic. "Also, beaten and certainly raped."

"I don't want to think about that part."

"You have to think about that part."

"I will! But not now. Not yet. Right now, I have to think about where I am and how to get back home."

That made sense, so she dropped that subject.

"No clothes. Shit. I'm going to be burnt all over!"

No, she decided, she was not. She got down on her knees again and began to dig in the rich, dark soil under the grass. It wasn't terribly wet at the surface--the morning dews wouldn't be enough for that--but as she dug deeper, it was damp enough to make it stick to her skin. She rubbed it on her face, shoulders and breasts, making a semi-effectual paste.

Then she headed for the stone fence. Fences, she reasoned, do not build themselves, which meant that wherever she was, it was a place known to people.

When she reached the fence, she discovered that it was aged and crumbling, but she was determined not to give up, and began to follow it.

The hill, which had seemed small from a distance, proved to be a bit of a climb, and Holly leaned more and more frequently against the waist high structure. In some spots, the stones had fallen, leaving gaps in the wall, but mostly it was intact.

Holly finally reached the crest of the hill. Looking down, she could see in the distance the single remaining partial wall of what must surely have been a church in the past.

"Pretty lonely church," Holly muttered. "Who came here? There's nothing else around!"

This wasn't entirely true. Just to the southwest of the structure, surely less than a mile away, was a body of water too large to be called a pond, but too small to be a lake.

Holly didn't care what anyone might call it; it was water!

At the next area of breakdown in the stone fence, she carefully maneuvered her way to the other side and headed for the water, praying for it to be cool and clean. She wanted to run, but didn't quite dare. It was downhill, at any rate, and didn't take long.

The water was so clear, Holly could see to the bottom, even off in the middle distance, where there was an observable drop-off into some depths. She walked right in, avoiding sharp stones, and once the water reached the tops of her aching thighs, she sank down into it, resting her buttocks on her heels.

"You're washing away evidence," she said, even as she plunged her whole head into the water and began scrubbing blood out of her hair.

"Shut up. I'm attracting flies."

She had been. It was not only annoying to realize, it was disgusting. She washed herself as best she could without soap, not caring about evidence, not caring about anything but being clean.

Afterward, she moved from that place, moved to where the water wasn't cloudy with her cleansing efforts, and drank deeply. For a moment she felt like she might vomit again, but pushed past the nausea and slowly made her way back to the shoreline.

Her milk-white fair skin had had more than enough of the sun, so she squatted down next to the water and mixed up a large amount of mud, which she smeared liberally over her face and body.

She wandered back to the "church"; it surely must have been a church at one time. She could see the remains of foundation and collapsed walls, and not far from that single still-standing section was a double door and frame, the wood nearly rotted to transparency. Once there had been door-handles and hinges, but those were gone now. "Medieval salvage company," Holly declared dismissively.

The standing section had to have been a window, Holly decided. "I'll bet it held beautiful stained glass once," she sighed. There was no sign of broken glass there now, so perhaps it had been salvaged, too, sometime decades in the past.

Holly sat down in the window, naked and covered with drying mud, and sighed. She looked around her at all the beautiful nothing, and tried to think about yesterday, but nothing came to her except loading and starting the dishwasher after breakfast.

She'd been planning a walk in the park with Sandy, her aged Corgi.

Did they go?

She didn't remember.

She hoped not. Because, if they did...where is Sandy?

"God, I hope I went to the post office or something," Holly cried. Then Sandy would be at home, with a full water dish and a bowl full of kibble.

There was just a lot of nothing after loading the dishwasher, adding detergent, spinning the dial and pressing "Start".

Really, she couldn't even be sure it had been only yesterday. It was morning when she woke up; the grass was still damp with dew, and the sun hadn't had time to do a complete number on her skin yet, so she assumed she'd been there overnight.

Still, she was somewhere else before that, wasn't she? Her clothes must have been left in that somewhere else place. Who knows how long she might have been there...

"Okay, this sucks!" Holly started to cry.

"Just stop that, right now. You have to get out of here."

"How? I don't know where I am, I don't know how long I've been gone, I don't know where to go!" And of course, she couldn't stop crying.

She let herself cry. And cry. And cry some more.

Finally: "Finished?"

Her breath came in coughing little hiccups. "Yeah."

"I'm alive. Alive!"

Whatever else, there was that fact. She woke up. She knew who she was. The where and how-- that was going to have to wait.

First things first.

"Okay, look around."

Holly looked.

The stone fence continued down the hill and around a bend. Whatever lay beyond that bend was obstructed from view by a copse of scrubby trees and a large rock.

"It stands to reason," Holly told herself, "that at some point, that wall will lead somewhere."

"Yes. Sooner or later. Hopefully, sooner."

"I'll follow it out of here."

"Right."

Soon enough, she would do that. Naked, covered with dry mud, she would follow the stone fence and find a way back to the world.

But for now, she sat in the window of the otherwise destroyed church, and wondered if she should pray to remember...or not.

May 5, 2019
1:45 p.m.

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Because I am a curious sort, I looked up some history of this day to share with you all. It occurred to me that the significance of the celebration has been either lost--or never learned--by most of the people now attending the parades, dancing and having a tequila.

We Americans have as much cause to celebrate as the Mexican nationals who began the tradition. Had Zaragoza's small band of soldiers not defeated the French on May 5th, 1862, the American Civil War may have been seriously compromised. French might have been the national language in Mexico!

Read about the French defeat in The Battle of Puebla here: Cinco de Mayo History.

And here: Battle of Puebla.

Enjoy your day, armed with some history! Net time someone asks, you won't think it's Independence Day in Mexico. FYI: That's September 16th.
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Okay, now that I have educated those of you who bothered to click on the links, I will move on and say a big THANK YOU ALL to those who called, posted, messaged, etc. I had a very nice blah-de-blah-what's-in-a-number-th birthday yesterday.

To add to my joy, a new baby was born into the family, my cousin's granddaughter, and I am so happy to share my birthday with her!!

I have a twin-brother-from-another-mother-and-father in Colorado, and I'm looking forward to our birthday dinner next weekend. He's about two hours older than I. We met when he started working in the same Optical office as I, and we soon discovered that we were "twins". What a coincidence!

I'll tell you all about dinner later.
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I scheduled this trip to Colorado so I could do doctor and dentist visits. That will be my Friday, and then I hope to have a little fun with kids before I come back to Wyoming.

Must maintain my health if I want to look after the health of others, right?
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For those of you who know that I write books, but haven't gotten one yet, I celebrated my Birthday Weekend by offering a couple of them for only $0.99. Do me a favor for my B-Day and buy a book!

S23HF50

Ancestors' Tales

I wish I could say that having sales is a great way to sell books and make tons of money, but the truth is, I'm not getting rich by any means. If I was trying to make a living at this, I would be living in a cardboard box in a filthy back alley somewhere.

But I can--and do!--dream of a day when it all comes together and I make enough to buy a new bra!

(I really need a new bra, so do me a favor and buy a book. Please. Thank you. Paula braless is not a sight anyone needs to see!)
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Well, my insomnia is winning, and now I am wandering around talking in rhymes and singing little ditties to the dishes, and the frying pan and the dog, and...

Honestly, I sing little made-up stuff all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. But not to the dirty dishes, usually. Hahaha!

Also, at about 4:00 a.m. I could have sworn that my sock, which Molly dragged out of the laundry basket last night and left on the floor, was moving. Like, wiggling its way closer and closer to me. I was going to blame Molly for moving it whenever I looked away, but she was sound asleep.

Of course, it didn't move. At least, not until I picked it up myself and put it back in the basket. But, jeez! Sleepy eyes see weird stuff!
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There's a Priest at the door, so I have to go.

No, really. He's here to see Dad!

Until next time, cheers!

May 1, 2019
12:00 noon

Well, here we are--May! Across the state, but luckily not here, snow! Today seems pretty nice, although we have barely made it to 50 degrees so far.

The fight is ongoing with Dad, who has insisted on cancelling a doctor's appointment for the last three days. No, we're not cancelling. So, I am a bossy-pants, I'm mean to him and I don't know what all.

He actually hurt my feelings this morning, telling me that it was good I didn't have a husband, because he'd feel sorry for him having such a bossy wife. Then he said he wished I did have a husband so I wouldn't be bossing him (Dad) around.

I told him that what he said was offensive and hurtful and he tried to pass it off as a joke. Then I reminded him that I'd had two failed marriages and it was indeed hurtful and offensive and he said he hadn't thought about that. I told him that was the problem, he didn't bother to think before opening his mouth, just lashed out because he wasn't getting his way. So then he said he didn't think it would hurt me and said he was sorry--and repeated it a couple of times.

I didn't say it was okay, and I didn't accept his apology, but it doesn't matter, because he's already forgotten it, I'm sure.

I haven't. Damn it.
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Next week I have a short trip to Denver planned, for a dental appointment and a doctor appointment. I haven't been feeling well for a while, but I didn't plan enough time for any specialist visits on this trip, at least.

If I have to see anyone else, it will have to wait until the next trip. I will wait until after I see the doctor this time before buying tickets, just in case I have to do anything special. Like an upper GI or endoscopy. Blah and phooey. I hope not.

I have another trip planned for the end of the month to finish up my dental work. That appointment is already scheduled. It seems I will have to live with a temporary crown for three weeks before getting the permanent one. I hope it fits better than the last temp I got. That one was awful!

At least I will be in Denver!! Hurray! I am homesick. I miss my kids and grandchildren. I miss going out on my own and doing whatever I want whenever I want because there's public transportation and I can just go. And for my end of month trip, I get to go to Denver Pop Culture Con. Actually, I will most likely go on June 1st.

Probably none of this means much to you all, but I have been feeling isolated and lacking autonomy the last few months. This little town hasn't got much to offer compared to the city I've grown to love, and I miss it. I don't drive, and around here, that's a big damn deal. You can't go anywhere or do anything without driving around here. In Denver, I get around with zero issues. It's affordable, it's easy, it's convenient and it's eco-friendly not to be driving all the doggone time.

But, I guess it's past time I got back on the road again. Ughhhh! I don't like driving.
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4:31 p.m.

Mission accomplished! Dad went to the doctor. All is well on the Urology front. And we made him take us to early dinner at Village Inn and got free pie!!

Ah, restaurants are interesting places when you're not sure what you can eat without... er… consequences. I ordered a turkey dinner--most of it is in the refrigerator. But, so far, so good! It's a bland meal, which is generally easy on the ole tummy. My free pie is in the fridge, too. Might take me a couple of days to get through, but that does make the price well worth it. (Not the free pie, the dinner.)

We were talking at dinner about how we feel guilty leaving Molly home when we go somewhere. She's something else, that little dog. I don't think we have ever felt guilty leaving any of the other pets on their own for a couple of hours.  She's perfectly well-behaved while we're gone, just takes a nap in her crate and gets super happy to see us when we get back and let her out.
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5:26 p.m.

I just got notice that I now have over 300 followers on my author page! Yippee!

You can follow me, too:  Paula's FB Author page

I now have over 200 followers on my BookBub page! Yippee again!

Follow me here: Paula's BookBub

I have no idea how to find out how many people might be following me on Amazon, so if you have a clue how to discover that, please let me know.

Follow me on Amazon here: Paula's Amazon author page

Ah, self promotion! Well, I have followers, so I guess it pays. But it's daunting.
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6:37 p.m.

Well, my peeps, I'm thinking it might be time to go serve up that free pie we brought home. Yummy!

You all have a great First of May!

Cheers!