Happiness is finding a new tool in Word

I just finished typing my Sleeping Beauty short story into the computer (while rewriting along the way, of course, though it still needs copious amounts of work). It's longer than I expected! I thought it would be around 7,000 words. Maybe 10,000 if I was lucky. It's always hard to tell when you write the first draft in a notebook.
The story ended up being 12,727 words long, and forty-five pages! Woo-hoo!
There are several specific problems I'm going to tackle tomorrow before printing the whole thing out so I can go over it with a fine-toothed pen (not a comb, as some would suspect. I find that combs do absolutely nothing for my writing). One of these problems is as follows: today, about two or three chapters from the end, I decided to change one of my main character's names from "Ronan" to "Rory."
I dreaded the thought of searching for all of the "Ronan"s in the story. I dreaded the thought of switching them all to "Rory." I'd be sure to miss one. Or more. Probably more. Many more.
And then, my dad came to the rescue (thanks, Dad!). He showed me a glorious little button in the top right hand corner of Word called "Replace." When one clicks on this button, a box pops up that says "Find what: ______. Replace with: ______."
Problem solved! I typed in "Ronan" in the former space, and "Rory" into the latter space, and seconds later, lo! yet another box appeared! It said: "183 items changed."
Hip hip! Huzzah! Woo-hoo! Yay!
Now I have more time to focus on the actual story! And the characters! Yay! Yay... yay. Oh, great. Now I have to focus on the actual story. I have to work out all the plot holes and add foreshadowing and figure out if the beginning is too slow and if the story is Sleeping Beauty-ish enough. And don't get me started on all the problems the character's have.
Rats.

Why Only One Shoe? A Short Story by Abbey

"Urghh!"
"What's wrong, Mom?" teenager Terren Gray asked. "Is the traffic stressing you out? Relax, we don't have to be there for 20 minutes. We could switch places; I could drive for awhile, if you like."
Toddler Toni sang snatches of song from the backseat.
"No, it's not the traffic," Mrs. Gray replied through clenched teeth. "It's that shoe on the side of the road. Why is there always only ONE shoe on the sides of freeways? It is something that has bothered me since childhood! Oh, it frustrates me!"
"Don't look at it Mom. Don't let it stress you. You know what the doctor said about stress. Oh, look! We're moving again!"
Mrs. Gray hit the gas pedal, took a few calming breaths, and felt better. But the question still lingered:
Why only one shoe?

***

There was a knock at the door. The shadowy figures, seated around a table, in a darkened room, exchanged glances with one another. One shadow rose and slid over to the door.
"Identify yourself," he said gruffly.
"It's Patrice, you oaf!" replied the voice form behind the door. "Let me in!"
The shadow allowed entrance, and enter Patrice did, soaking wet.
"Let's have some light, then!" she said. "Why's it so dark in here? And turn the fireplace on! I'm freezing!"
"No," said the gruff voice.
"Lewis!" snapped Patrice. "We may be meeting at your house, but we don't have to succumb to your blackout conditions!"
"That's what I said," muttered someone at the table.
"But we're a secret society," grumbled Lewis. "Secret societies on television always meet in darkness."
"Never mind the television, Lewis," said a new voice. "I, Dahlia Peters, as leader of this so-called 'secret society,' decree a compromise. A fire for Patrice, so she doesn't catch a cold, and so the rest of us can see-"
"That's not a compromise, Dahlia! I don't get anything out of it!" Lewis complained.
"I was just getting to your part," Dahlia replied. "We will have a fire, but we won't turn any lights on to please you. Satisfied?"
"I suppose," Lewis acquiesced. He turned on his gas fireplace.
"We've wasted enough time," said Dahlia, "let's get this meeting started."
Six people gathered around the fire and Dahlia pulled out a sheet of paper.
"Thomas," she said, "you take E street tonight. We haven't been there in awhile. Take a brown loafer. Lewis, you go to the main freeway and drop off a Sketcher's tennis shoe. Sorry Jayne, looks like you get Interstate 10 again. The good news is that you get to take one of those light-up kid's shoes."
"That's alright. Interstate 10 ain't that bad," Jayne, a small woman, said in a small voice.
Dahlia nodded. "Jacqueline, you go down Mainstreet and place a black flat in the gutter in front of the bank. And finally, Patrice, you go to 43rd Street with a pair of running shoes and hang them from a phone wire."
"Great!" Patrice exclaimed. "I love pairs! Especially when I get to hang them from telephone wires! People always wonder the most at those. 'How did they get up there? Why would someone do that?' Haha, they'll never guess!"
"Yes, yes, Patrice," Dahlia said, "I know pairs are your special skill. That's why you got this job. I'm going to Highway 12 with a red high heel.  Let's go! These shoes won't get placed by themselves! Good luck."

THE END

Character Encounters: Living Room

It's time for Character Encounters! Hosted by Kendra at Knitted by God's Plan.
Character Encounters is a monthly linkup where you write a short story where you, as the author, meet one of your characters is the place prescribed by Kendra. I really enjoy this linkup, though I've only participated a handful of times. And most of those times, the story hasn't even been put up onto my blog!
This month, the area for the encounter is the living room. And, the character you have to meet is one that you've thought about a lot, but never written. At first, I didn't think I had any characters like that... Then I realized, yes! I do have a character to fit the criteria! Her name is the Hag. She's part of my new story idea... but won't be introduced until the next chapter. I'm really looking forward to writing her. I think she'll be a very fun character.
So, without further ado, here is the story!

   Say Yes To The Dress on youtube… the perfect way to unwind after a stressful day. Even better is that youtube is accessible on the TV. Now if only my mom would hurry up and finish getting ready for bed, we could start the episode…

   I sigh and scroll down my blogger dashboard, looking for a post I hadn’t read earlier. I heard the sliding door leading to the other side of the house and cast my eyes upward, expecting to see my mother in her familiar blue robe. Instead, I saw a withered old lady with gray hair tied tightly in a bun on the back of her head. Her brown dress reached all the way down to the floor and she wore an apron overtop. Her features were somewhere between kind grandmother and ugly stepmother. Her kind eyes and smiling lips offset her pointy nose with warts. At least, they would have, if her eyes hadn’t held confusion and fury, and if her lips had been smiling as they usually were.

   She spotted me. Slowly, I uncrossed my legs and moved them down to the floor. I set my computer on the coffee table. The old woman stormed towards me with surprisingly quick steps.

   “Where am I?” she demanded, pointing a gnarled finger at me. It had seen lots of needlework. “Who are you?” A sudden light of understanding came into her eyes. “Is this a ploy of the Wicked Witch? Are you the Wicked Witch? Where are you keeping the Princess of First Country?! Locked in a tower no doubt… I demand to know! This instant!” She stamped one thin foot on the ground, placed her hands on her hips, and glared at me something fierce.

   “I’m not the Wicked Witch,” I said, putting my hands up as a sign of peace. “Do I look like a witch to you?”

   “No… I suppose not.” The woman contemplated me for a few more minutes.

   “Alright,” she said, “I’ve decided to trust you. I sure am glad that’s over… I was worried there for a moment.  So if you’re not the witch, who are you?” Her glare disappeared and a look of curiosity came into her eyes. She peered at me.

   “My name is Abbey,” I said. “Won’t you please have a seat?” I asked politely. She was an old woman, after all.

   “I don’t have a foot in the grave yet!” the woman said. “I’m still standin’! I can still get around! You young whippersnappers are always tryin’ to get me to take a load off my feet… ‘Sit down, mother. Shall we stop for a rest, mother? Let me do that, mother.’ That tall whippersnapper I’m travellin’ with is just horrid. Always askin’ me if I need to stop… I’m goin’ to be lookin’ after a princess soon! There will be no stoppin’ then… no resting.” Despite her grumbling, the old woman took a seat anyway. “I may look like an old Hag but I’m really not.” Having a seat seemed to calm her down a bit and she took on an amiable tone of voice with me. “That’s why I protest so much when people want to take special care of me… I’m actually a princess under a spell. I was turned old by a horrible witch, once upon a time…”

   I seriously doubted that that was the case. But if that was the story the woman was sticking to, I’d let her believe it.

   “So,” she peered at me. As soon as she had found out that I was no, in fact, the Wicked Witch imprisoning the princess of First Country, her mouth turned up at the corners and stayed in the amiable smile that I knew she always wore – except in extreme provocation.

   “How do I get out of here? I was kind of in the middle of a quest when I found myself here.”

   “I’m not sure,” I answered. I had been studying her carefully the whole time and had several important facts to write down once she was gone. I was as eager as the old hag to get her out of here – especially before my mom showed up.

   “Well,” she said, getting up, “maybe I’ll just go back the way I came… through that curious sliding panel. I must ask the king if one can be installed in my bedchamber. Perhaps an adjoining door into the room next door.” The crone giggled girlishly. “That would lovely. Sneaking into the next room and scaring people in the middle of the night… I simply shall remember to ask the king about it. Thank you for the chat, Miss Abbey. If you see any Wicked Witches, don’t let them near your infant princesses. Fare ye well!”

   She got to her feet and swayed unsteadily for a moment. She stuck her hands out for balance and soon recovered. She hobbled through the kitchen and back through the sliding door to the rest of the house. I watched her go and then reached for a piece of scratch paper. I quickly scribbled some notes.

   Expressive eyes… Changes mood rapidly… Speech gets a little disjointed when angry… the ends of words get cut off… She can be quick when she wants to… And I must remember the sliding door to the room next door.

   I wrote a general description of her and just as I was haphazardly scrawling the final note down, the sliding door opened again. Not knowing what to expect, I cautiously lifted my head. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only my mom.

   “Ready to start?” she asked, digging in the cupboard for some snack. “Play!”

    I reached for the remote, pulled up the quilt, tucked my legs under me, and hit ‘play.’

   The End.

 

And now a funny typo: "I may look like an old gah..." (instead of hag)

 

The early masterpieces of Abbey.

I can't wait to be a mother simply because I LOVE the way kid's brains think. I love the stories kids come up with... I was reminded of this while watching some BoredShorts videos last night... They are probably most known for their Kid History/Kid Snippets. They have a newish show, however, called Kid Masterpieces. They are children's stories read by a distinguished elder:

It got me thinking about my early stories... and I though I'd share a few of them with you! (Don't worry, I'll take out the spelling errors, for there are many.)

The first one is called Book 1 Princess Cassidy. Judging by the hand writing and the story content, I'm guessing I was around seven or eight when I wrote it.

Once upon a time in a far away land, in a castle, in a hallway, in a room, a Princess Cassidy lived. She was a unicorn with a golden horn. Such an elegant, beautiful horn. One day, she went out for a walk in the garden. Then she found herself out of the garden. She went through a bush into...

I'm not sure what happened, but I never finished the story. (This one was complete with a period after each word).
Next is The Tia Book. Tia was our first dog. We got her from my aunt and she was only with us for a year before we had to put her down. This one was written about the same time... when I was seven or eight. This one I dictated to my mom who wrote it out for me.

Once upon a time there were three dogs. A big dog, a medium-sized dog, and their team leader was Tia, the small dog. Do you know what their names were? The big dog was called Rainbow Bluey, the medium-sized dog was named Smart Reddy, and their team leader was just plain Tia.
One day they got lost in the forest. Then the team leader, Tia, saw light! They went to the light and there they saw big dogs, little dogs, medium-sized dogs, fat dogs, skinny dogs... it was a whole dog festival!
So they at last got to a place where people would give them food.
Then their team leader saw a little black poodle that looked sad.
The other guys of the team leader Tia, said, "Why are you looking so sad and worried?"
"Because this poodle looks sad," answered Tia. "What is your name?"
"Well, my mommy didn't name me much, just Alexander P.," said the black poodle.
"Why don't you come with us?" asked Tia.

This one wasn't finished either... Did Alexander P. go with team leader Tia? The world will never know.
Next is Abbey's Dog and Cat Book. This one is probably from when I was six or seven. Possibly five... but I doubt it.

Dogs and cats. I love them.
I wonder how dogs and cats think?
I like dogs and cats because Mommy is allergic to cats, but I don't mind.
Dogs and cats can't go to church, but they can stay at home or in the car.
Dogs and cats can't read books, but we can read books to them, and mouse books to cats and kittens too.
I wonder if dogs and cats can ride the school bus?
I wonder if dogs like mice and cats like bones?
Dogs and cats can't write, but we can draw pictures for them.
Remember to put a collar on your dog and cat. Put your name and phone number on it.
Goodbye.
See you later, Alligator.
After awhile, Crocodile.
I love you.

Here's some stories out of a writing prompt book that I wrote when I was eight.

Underwater Adventure
I put on my scuba gear and jumped into the sea. As I was going down, I saw an octopus. I said hi. To my amazement, he said hi back.
"(indistinguishable word) this talks. Shh," said the Sea Queen. She was a real mermaid and her horse was a sea unicorn. It was really just a sea horse that was gigantic with a horn.
After meeting everybody and having tea with the Queen and a ride on her sea unicorn, it was time to go. I said bye and left.
The end.

The First Day of School
The first day of school was going well until the hamsters got loose. We chased them down the hall! Where did they go? Ahhh! They were in the closet! I got one!
"Help! Help!" cried a young girl. She was on the floor crying. The hamsters were stampeding on her so I helped her.
"Josh! Josh!"
"What? What? The hamsters!"
"Josh, they're in the cage."
"I must have been day dreaming."
The end
(Not a true story)

Balloon ride!
I bought a bunch of balloons, and suddenly I started up. It was scary. I had to hold on tight.
I saw a whole bunch of birds. They popped the balloons and I went down, down, down and landed on a great big bird.
I rode on it for awhile. Then it dropped me into the neighbor's pool.
I had quite a wild ride today. First on the balloons, then the bird and the air. It was a wild ride.
The end.

Space Adventure
One night an alien invited me to a party at Rigaly Hall. There were all sorts of animals there. We were on a different planet. The name was something like Super California Surfer Expert On The Ocean.
Well, about the animals. There was a giant slug with two front arms. It's name was Jabba the Hut. And there was a Wookie named Chewbacca. And a guy all dressed in black. His name was Darth Vader, King of Bad Guys. He had a red light saber.
Then suddenly I was in bed. It was all a dream.
The end.

The one above had some really cute spelling errors... Wookie was Woky and Darth Vader was Dark Veder. He didn't have a red light saber, but a red life savr.
This next one is called A Bad Day for Mr. Johnson. I'm not sure exactly when I wrote it... but it was sometime between 2007 and 2010.

I was right there in the classroom when it happened: the teacher ripped his pants. Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Ginie the hamster. You could say that I'm the teacher's pet. Ha ha ha. O.K., enough funny business. Back to the story.
It was Wednesday, 1 p.m. sharp when it happened. Mr. Johnson ripped his pants. The class was doing math when the teacher dropped his chalk. He bent over to pick it up and his pants ripped.
Personally, I thought his purple and pink polka dotted shiny underwear was funny. Everyone in class wanted to laugh, but they knew better.
Lucy took her school books and used them as pants to bring him to the principal's office.
Mrs. Langly, the vice principle, gave him some pants that were Principle Jacklin's. They were too big, but they would do for now. Then Mr. Johnson went home to change.
Oh, I forgot to tell you something. The principal always keeps an extra pair of pants in his office.
When Mr. Johnson came back, he told the class that his mom made him wear that underwear, and anyway, his wife didn't have any other clean underwear because she had just had their first child.
At the end of the day, he thanked Lucy for her help and, of course, she said, "Oh, no problem, Mr. Johnson."
So that's the end of our story of the bad day for Mr. Johnson. Come back some other time for another story. I'll be here!

This next story is one of the stepping stones to get to my Daniel and Varina stories. It's about me and my cousin (the one who plays Minecraft and likes Star Wars). It was written in 2009, judging by the hand writing. (Reading it now, it reminds me a lot of Get Smart, which I hadn't even heard of yet in 2009. Also, my apologies to Herge for stealing some of his characters...)

Priceless
By Abbey
Prologue:
"Agent 24kqs4? Agent 24kqs4, over."
"Yes? This is agent 24kqs4 speaking. Is that you, boss? Do you have a new mission for me?"
"Yes, Agent 24kqs4. I have a new mission for you. The famous Castafoire Emerald has been stolen. Go to her house and snoop around. Go, Agent! Go! And don't forget, I don't want you to be seen. Over."
Outside under a big open window:
"Ahhh! (A note on the side of the page says "Tell everyone when agent 24kqs4 says 'ahhh,' he's falling) This is not going to work. Oh, hello Abbey (Abbey is my friend, she can't talk). What are you doing here? Oh, the boss sent you to help me. How kind of him!"
"Woof woof!"
"Oh look, Abbey! It's a little dog! Let's keep him! Maybe he can help us get in this window."
"Grrr. Woof!"
"Ouch! He bit me! A rope, good idea, Abbey. Still, let's bring the dog with us. He might bark and give us away if we leave him down here. I will call him Spot because he has a large spot on him."
"Agent 24kqs4, are you there? Is Abbey with you yet?"
"Yes, she is, boss. What do you want?"
"I just found out that the priceless emerald is hidden in the house somewhere. Good luck agent. I have to go."
Inside next to a big vase:
"Well, Abbey, we're inside. Better start looking for the emerald. You head that way. I'll look around here, with Spot. Now let's see... If I were an emerald, where would I be? Good idea, Spot! In the vase! Ugh, uh hu. There, I'm up! Hey! Ho! Spot, stop shaking the vase! Ahhh! Bad dog, Spot! I fell in! Ow! I sat on something sharp. Let's see, where's that flashlight... Here it is. Lights on. He, he, he. Oh! The emerald! Abbey! Abbey! Come help me out. I found it!"
"Found what? Who's in there?"
"Who's that speaking?"
"I am Madame Castafoire's butler. And oh! Here comes Madame now."
"Who's in there, Nestor?"
"I don't know yet, Madame."
"Who's that? A new maid servant?"
"No, that's my sidekick, Abbey. She can't speak."
"Oh. And who are you?"
"I am Agent 24kqs4. I work for the spy agency down the street. I was sent here to find your emerald. Now, if the Madame would be so kind as to let me out of this jar, I can ask her if the emerald I sat on is hers."
"Oh, yes, of course! Nestor, let him out."
"Woof, woof."
"Hello, Spot, Abbey. Nice to see you again. Hey, Spot, give me that back! Spot!"
"Agent 24kqs4? Come in, please."
"Yes, boss?"
"I forgot to mention, if you see a small white dog with a brown spot, don't take him along. His master wants the emerald."
"Too late, boss. He just got away with the emerald."
"Oh? Well, that's too bad. I'm sure Madame Castafoire will be sad about that."
"Oh, no actually," says Castafoire. "It's a fake."
Epilogue:
"So that's what she meant by priceless," said Agent 24kqs4. He was having coffee with Abbey and the boss.
"Help! Help!" a voice cried from outside. "A dog just stole my diamond!"

I didn't realize until I started typing the story out that the first "he/she said" doesn't come until the very end... xD
This is an excerpt from a paper I wrote in 2009 about the 6-traits of writing curriculum.

I had the honor of visiting my friend's school last year. She had the 6-traits (of writing) hanging up in her classroom. I asked her about them and she said she wasn't studying them! Can you believe that! Not studying 6-trait, yet have them hanging in your classroom? Personally, I think everyone should study the 6-traits (and the Constitutional Convention). Because of 6-trait and one of my favorite book series, I have chosen the career of an author (for now). I owe a tremendous lot to 6-trait.

Obviously I owe a lot to the Constitutional Convention, too. What in the world does that have to do with anything? xD My mom and I laughed so hard when I read that to her last night.
And finally (I've saved the best for last), a story entitled Life is Good as a Pea. I have no clue when I wrote this, but it was more than three years ago.

Life was good as a pea. When I was young, I lived in a pea pod. It wasn't so crowded then. My mom fed me and my brothers and sisters sugar through out belly buttons until we got fat. Once we got fat, it was stuffy and real crowded. I wanted to get out of there and see the human world.
One day, my dream came true. We were picked. It was fall, when all fruits and vegetables get picked. We were very green and round. We were very eatable also.
The human picked us. Then she opened our pods and put us in a bowl. It felt good to get out of the stuffy pod. Pretty soon, there were more peas in the bowl until it was almost to the top. Then there were no more peas to put into the bowl. She put us in the freezer to save us for later.
Brrr, it was freezing in there. I was glad my brothers and sisters and other peas were there to keep me warm.
One day in the winter, the nice lady fed us to her family. I am telling this story from inside the nice lady's stomach. Life is still good in her stomach. Maybe I'll write another story once I get digested.
The end.

WOW! Talk about a plot twist! Actually, that's often how my stories end up... You start reading it and it's just a nice story (informative too - the peas getting fed sugar) and then at the end it's like, BLAM! They got eaten.

It's fun to look through old writings... You can see the Then and Now parallels. When I was younger, four elements were in nearly every story I wrote. Once upon a time usually started the stories... and everything ended with "the end" even if it was a report or a serious paper. It took my mom ages to break me of that habit, especially since I wasn't too keen on breaking it. Often I would put in "oh, I forgot to tell you something" at least once into the story as well. And "one day" is as common as "oh, I forgot to tell you something."

There are several other "chapters" of my earlier writing that perhaps I'll go into one day... One is the effect the Warrior Cats series by Erin Hunter had on my writing. You have no idea how many unfinished Warriors stories I have lying around. One actually got finished, tapping out at 25ish (written) pages, the same number of (typed) pages that After the Twelfth Night was on it's first draft! (To be fair, the first draft was only Part 1. The other two parts didn't come until NaNoWriMo 2011).
The other chapter is my first finished "book" that was longer than five pages long. Someday I'll type it up (it's about 16 pages) and post it here... but not tonight.

Do you have any early writings you would like to share? Or any funny writing stories from when you were a small kid? How about things you did in your writing as a child, but don't do anymore (other than spelling mistakes and such)?

Live long and prosper!

"Runaway" - a short story by Abbey.

Two years ago for my birthday, my friend gave me a book of writing prompts (one for each day of the year) and this past week I've been experimenting with them.... challenging myself to write short stories because I'm not very good at them. I also want to experiment with different genres and writing styles.
Yesterday's prompt was "Afterward, I thought about...." which I changed a tiny bit to fit my story.
Anyway, my mom has convinced me to put it on my blog because she thinks Grama will enjoy it.
So here we go! I hope you enjoy!

Suddenly there he was at the window.
"Oh Pierre!" I said, rushing across the room to take his hands. I nearly knocked him off the vine trellis in the process.
"Angela!" Pierre replied when he regained his balance. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes!" I grabbed a pillowcase stuffed with a gown or two and maybe a few pairs of shoes... my hairbrush, of course (I have to brush my long brown tresses with something!) and three bars of soap because who knew when I'd next be able to but one.
In my other hand I grabbed my valise. It was stuffed with all my most favorite books. My diary with four pencils lay on top and a coin purse lay on the bottom, filled with a substantial part of my inheritance.
Now Pierre was taking the pillowcase from me - I wouldn't part with the valise for anything. After all, the books it contained had been my only friends for eighteen years!
Pierre helped me down the trellis and 25 perilous feet later we were standing together on the castle grounds, looking around and listening for sounds of pursuit. All was well, so far. Everyone in the castle was fast asleep.
"This way," Pierre whispered, and we took off. As well as my pillowcase, he shouldered a bag filled with his only change of clothes and food for our journey.
We reached the castle wall and to my surprise, a small, hidden door set very low in the barricade led to the outside world. I quivered. Only once before had I been outside these prison walls.
Pierre stooped and opened the door. He ushered me through, and I went.
Outside... breathless beauty. The moon and stars hung, poised, above a golden field of wheat which was swaying in the gentle breeze.
I, Angela, Princess of The Land, was a runaway. I felt like singing for joy.
"Come on!" Pierre grabbed my hand and we ran.
Only after we were outside the protection of the castle did I think about dragons.
And then it was too late.

The end.

Character Encounters: Electronics Store.

This month's Character Encounter (hosted by Kendra at Knitted at God's Plan) is taking place at an electronics store!

 

Here is my story (starring three characters from After the Twelfth Night):

   We were in the most boring, evilest of stores. The store where a child can be endlessly bored forever while parents stare at light bulbs or paint colors or, the worst, CABINET HANDLES!

   Home Depot.

   I sighed. I sighed and tried to entertain myself with memories of former experiences in the store. There was the time we were on the way to Disney Land with my cousin. He hated Home Depot and every time we would pass one on the road, we would ask if we should go to Home Depot instead of Disney Land.  He would shout ‘NO’ and we would drive on.

   Then there was the time when I was desperately seeking a cat ornament for the Christmas tree (because each year I get an ornament to reflect the year to put on the tree. That year I had been very much into Warrior Cats by Erin Hunter). We couldn’t find a cat ornament anywhere. Then, we went into Home Depot, and there was a cat ornament! A cat ornament which looked exactly like Hazelfur, my own Warrior.

   And then, of course, who could forget the time that my uncle nearly got arrested in Home Depot? Those who know my uncle know that he would never, ever steal anything. Yet, the employees thought he was shoplifting (maybe it was the backpack he had worn into the store) and he was detained and the police called.

   Even though that was months ago and things have pretty much cleared up, he and my aunt are still plagued by calls from that particular Home Depot (which is closing soon).

   I ran out of Home Depot experiences. In my mind I let out a Darth Vaderly ‘noooooooooooooo’ and wandered over to the lighting department which, in my opinion, was the only isle in the whole store that was of any interest. Ever since I was little, I have been fascinated with the lighting isle in Home Depot. All the chandeliers with the different decorations…. all the beams of light that shine unearthly yellow light on everything…. and the occasional purple light bulb.

   “Come on Abbey, we’re going to the electronics section,” my mom said. I hurried after her and my dad. We weren’t in Home Depot to look at lights. We were there to search for good deals on computers. My mother needed a new one desperately.

   This could take awhile, I mentally prepared myself. Why didn’t I take a book?!

   While my parents were being helped by a nice young man, I hung back to look at some random computer accessories. Someone bumped into me.

   “Oh, sorry,” said a foreign voice, with a foreign accent. “I was just looking for someone… my friends. They seemed to have gotten lost.

   “That’s alright. I hope you find them.” The words stumbled out of my mouth, as they always did when I tried to create small talk or tried to get away from a conversation. I started to move towards my parents, who had gone into another isle. Then I did a double take. I turned back around to the boy who had bumped into me. He was tallish and well-muscled. He wore a light, white shirt that had poofy sleeves. His pants were brown and on his feet were brown boots. But that hardly caught my attention at first. It was his hair and his eyes that had made me turn back to a stranger whom I didn’t know.

   But I did know him. That tanned skin, the bright amber eyes flecked with green, the longish, wavy black hair… Even the clothes – I noticed them now. I had given him those clothes after he, Antonio and James were rescued in the desert.

   He had turned away from me, then, hands on hips, looking for his friends. I knew exactly which friends he was looking for, and I began to search too. I glanced at my parents; they were still engrossed with the salesman. I slipped away, down an aisle, and cast my eyes about. I went, aisle to aisle, searching for them. Finally, staring at the lights in the lightning department, I saw them.

   “What strange things these are….” said the younger one; the one with a floppy brown hat on his head.

   “Yes,” murmured the elder one. “I have never encountered something like this before.” He reached out and bumped one of the lampshades. It swung back and forth at his touch.

   Without thinking, I ran up to them. “Antony is looking for you!” I said. They both jumped, as if coming out of a trance, and stared at me.

   “Who are you?” said the older man, gruffly.

   “Antony is looking for you,” I repeated, with less gusto this time. Maybe I should have thought through this a little more. It’s not like you can just come right out and tell people from your book that you wrote them into existence. That would be crazy. Besides, I wasn’t sure if I totally believed they were my characters. Maybe they were just cosplayers.

   Dressed as characters from your book which hasn’t even come out yet? I asked myself.

   “Where is Antony?” asked the younger man, with the hat.

   “This way,” I said.

   “Careful James, it might be a trap,” said the older one.

   “Oh, just come on.” They agreed to follow me and I led them back to the electronics section of the store. Antony had disappeared! “Where’s he got to…?” I muttered. “He was just here!” I said.

   Suddenly a voice came from behind us. “Antonio! James! I’ve been searching for you!” We three whipped around and there was Antony!

   “There you are!” I said, relieved.

   They ignored me. “Where are we?” Antony asked.

   “We don’t know,” James admitted.

   “Well I very much doubt that we will find Sebastian here, so let’s find our way out of here,” said Antonio.

   How did I explain to them that they weren’t Shakespeare Land anymore? And where was a Silvertongue when I needed one….? If Mo or Meggie showed up from Inkheart, they could read my characters back into After the Twelfth Night.

   I came out of my reverie and found that Antonio, Antony, and James were no longer standing at my side. I looked around frantically for them. Ah, there they were, just headed to the door. To the door?! Oh no! I couldn’t have them wandering around town! I ran after them.

   “Wait!” I called. They turned.

   “What?” asked Antonio.

   “ALACAZAM BACK INTO YOUR BOOK!!!” I said, for lack of a better phrase. They just stared at me. Then, all of a sudden, as if they were holograms venturing out of the holodeck on the Enterprise D, my characters began to disintegrate in front of my eyes. I looked around to see if anyone else was seeing what I was. Luckily, no one was around in this particular aisle.

   When I turned back to Antonio, Antony, and James, they were gone.

   “There you are!”

   I turned and there were my parents.

   “We were looking everywhere for you. You scared me. Don’t run off like that,” said my mom, giving me a hug.

   “Sorry,” I said.

   Once at home, I quickly opened After the Twelfth Night to the particular page that Antonio, Antony, and James had sprung from. I sighed is relief. Everything was as it had been when I left it.

   Antonio looked down at himself. Instead of the tattered rags he had been wearing since the beginning of his journey, he was dressed in a clean, white shirt with a low tie-up neck and poofy sleeves. His pants were brown and cut off at the shin. He was wearing long socks and a pair of boots sat next to his bed. When he felt his wound, Antonio found it to be bound in a tight bandage; it hardly hurt anymore.

   Antony was dressed in much the same fashion, minus the bandage. But something or more precisely, someone was missing…

   “Where is James?”  asked Antonio.

   I smiled in satisfaction. Maybe Home Depot wasn’t such a bad store after all.

 

I hope you enjoyed (even if it isn't edited all that much)!

 

Live long and prosper.

Character Encounters: January.

I'm doing another Character Encounters.

 

http://knittedbygodsplan.blogspot.com/

 

This months encounter spot was a fast food place...

   This is a horrible idea. I thought to myself as I jerked the wheel angrily and nearly hit a green Chevrolet.

   “Watch out!” my mom shouted.

   “Sorry!” I replied, my hands trembling. I took a deep breath before putting the car into reverse. A few moments later the car was parked without further mishaps. Mom and I got out and surveyed my work. “I really need more practice…” I chuckled. The car was in the parking spot… horizontally.

   “Why are we here again?” my mom asked, nodding to the newly re-built McDonalds, which was stationed around the corner and down the road-a-ways from our house.

   “We’re meeting a wizard,” I replied. My mom gave me a look. “I know, I know,” I sighed, “that sounds strange. But it really isn’t! He’s the wizard from Defenders of the Realm! You know, the board game I’m making into a story? The wizard won’t tell me him name…. I have five possibilities – I asked my blog followers which they liked best, remember? Well, he has decided to come into our world, from the Realm. He said he’d meet me somewhere to disclose his name…. and the place he picked was McDonalds!” I explained in one hurried breath.

   “Why did he pick McDonalds?” my mom questioned, holding the door open for me. I shrugged as I went inside.

   “He said he’s never had fast food before and wanted to try it out…. I didn’t even know Wizards liked fast food! Especially this wizard… He is so grim and grumpy, he doesn’t like anything.”

   I had only seen a McDonalds as crowded as this one once, and that was in Times Square, New York City.

   It is lunch time, I suppose. I reasoned as I unconsciously began to hum the theme from New York, New York.

   “Should we wait for this, er, wizard friend of yours or get in line?” Mom asked me.

   “I don’t know…” I said absentmindedly. My gaze swept the McDonalds, searching for a tall, old man, with a face as stormy as his dark gray beard. He would have a long staff with him, sure to draw attention. And if the staff didn’t, the midnight blue cloak he always wrapped himself in would. 

   “Come on,” my mom called. I hurried to join her at the end of a long, long line.

   “He’s not here yet!” I cried is dismay.

   “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Mom reassured.

   As she spoke a curious looking female made her way over to us. I recognized her at once and groaned. “Gwina.”

   She held herself beautifully; erect and imposing. She wore a long dress with slits going up just past her knees on either side. The dress had puffy sleeves and fitted in a loose turtleneck under her chin. Her boots were black and looked heavy. Yet as she stepped towards my mom and I, her feet looked as if they didn’t even touch the ground.

   Elven make. I realized.

   In her hand was a staff, slim, and twirling at the end. She wasn’t wearing a travelling cloak, but a jacket-like garment which fell to the floor and had no sleeves.

   Her face held much mirth and she was grinning a flashy smile. Her long black hair fell down to her waist, even though it was tied in a high ponytail.

   “Hi.” She grinned at me. “I suppose I have the pleasure of meeting ‘The Author’?”

   “Yes. What are you doing here?” I asked, glaring back at Gwina. “Did… The Wizard send you?” I still didn’t know his name.

   “The Wizard-“ Gwina had to stop talking as she burst into a fit of laughter. Her laugh was booming, commanding the attention of everyone. Heads turned towards us and my face went red with embarrassment. “No, no,” Gwina said when she finally stopped laughing and grew very serious, a trait of hers I would have to remember. “’The Wizard’ did not send me. I’m afraid I brought you here under false pretenses. You see-“ she laughed again – “I wanted to try this thing called ‘fast food’ so much that I shifted into ‘The Wizard’ and asked you to meet him here!” Gwina looked quite pleased with herself and I groaned again as I remembered her special skill: shape-shifting.

   By this time we had reached the front of the line.

   “I’ll take a number 5 please,” I ordered, momentarily ignoring the wizard from another world who stood next to me.

   “Angus snack wrap,” said my mom. “What do you want Gwina? We’ll pay,” she added generously.

   Gwina was staring open-mouthed at the selection board. “I’ve never even heard of some of these foods!” she gasped.

   “She’ll take a number 5 too,” I said.

   In less than five minutes our food was ready. We took our things to the only empty table in the place and sat down.

   “How do you like your food?” I asked Gwina.

   She sat chewing slowly, as if pondering the food. “Very interesting,” she said at last. I tried asking Gwina some more questions, about the Realm and the other Heroes – I needed more background information - but she wouldn’t answer. We finished our meal in silence.

   When Gwina swallowed her last bite and shoved her garbage into the middle of the table, she turned and looked me straight in the eyes. “I didn’t bring you here just to eat your peculiar food. I came to tell you nothing. I know ‘The Wizard’s’ name and I’m prepared to tell you. He’ll kill me if he finds out, though!” her eyes widened, but I could see mirth sparkling in their depths.

   “I won’t tell,” I said.

   Gwina leaned back in her chair. “His name is-“

   At that moment a flash of light erupted near the cash register. People screamed. A booming voice called out: “GWINA!”

   “Uh-oh…” Gwina said. “He’s found me!” Sure enough, he had.

   The most powerful wizard since Amarak the Great was standing in McDonalds. My face hit my palm. How was I going to explain this one??

   “Gwina!” The Wizard walked towards us, his cloak flapping out behind him, his staff tapping ominously on the floor.

   Gwina stood up and faced The Wizard, her staff held high. She was nearly as tall as him and just as imposing. “What do you want?” she asked.

   “You know you are not allowed to leave the Realm!” The Wizard boomed. Everyone was watching. Most had their phones out and were recording. Silly them. They would find, as soon as they replayed the scene that Gwina and The Wizard weren’t really there. Technology of our world wasn’t able to record figments of my imagination. I knew because I had tried before.

   “I’m allowed to leave the Realm!” Gwina replied haughtily. “You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do. Besides, we’ve had to leave the Realm before...” Gwina didn’t finish her thought and instead nodded in my direction. “Author, we can’t disclose too much information.”

   “Ah, yes.” For a moment The Wizard’s furrowed brow unfolded itself as he gazed on me. Then it wrinkled back into its ever present look of grim worry. “Gwina, you know what I mean. You cannot leave the Realm and come… to this place; the Author’s place.”

   “I already did. And so did you, making you a hypocrite.”

   “I am no hypocrite!” boomed The Wizard.

   “No, you’re just a grim old wizard!” Gwina said. “All the Author wanted was to know your name! You would not tell her so I decided-“

   “You decided to take matters into your own hands, like you always do,” finished The Wizard.

   “Yes!”

   “Well, I’m here to undo this. You are coming back to the Realm with me!” The Wizard glared at Gwina.

   “No! You can’t make me!”

   “Yes I can!”

   “Try and you’ll be sorry!”

   “Fine!” The Wizard lifted his staff and said something in the Spell Language. Before he could finish Gwina lifted her own staff and countered his spell. They stood there, casting and countering for a few minutes, people watching, all agape, until I decided that, as author, I should intervene.

   “Guys, stop it,” I said, getting between them. The two Wizards stared at me for a moment and then lowered their staffs. “Gwina, I want you to go home with… The Wizard,” I said. Gwina gasped at my betrayal. I lifted my hands, “Not yet, you don’t have to go yet.” She sighed in relief. “Gwina, will you go with The Wizard and promise to be nicer to him if he gives me his name?”

   “Yes,” Gwina said with a decided nod.

   “Wizard, do you agree to this bargain? Gwina will try not to bother you as much if you give me your name.”

   The Wizard stared at me for a full minute and a half before nodded slightly, giving in.

   “Good.” I smiled. “Name please?” I looked at the old, grim, weather-beaten face, so full of the misery of past battles and the foreshadowing of one’s yet to come.

   “Isengrim.”

   “What?” He had said it so quietly, I nearly didn’t hear.

   “You heard me; I am not going to say it again.” Isengrim, The Wizard, grunted.

   He touched his staff to the ground, murmured something and disappeared in a flash, just as he had come. Gwina smiled broadly at me before doing the same. Then they were gone.

   I smiled like the mad author I was. Isengrim. MWAHAHAHA.

 

Not my best work. But I figured out the wizard's name! Isengrim just seemed to fit... I think I knew that the moment I wrote that name in my list of possible names. It will just give Gwina reason to annoy him. Hee hee.

Live long and prosper!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Merry Christmas everyone! It's time to celebrate our Lord's birth!
John 3:16
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

I have a Christmas short story for you.
I wrote it for something called Character Encounters, which is a get-to-know-your-character hosted by Kendra at Knitted by God's Plan.

 

I did, however, take some liberty with it.... The first rule I broke was that I used my NaNoWriMo characters because they are the only interesting characters I have.
The second liberty I took was that instead of my characters coming into my world, I went into theirs. I didn't see any regulations saying I couldn't, and I wanted to visit their world to help them along.

Some things to know before you read the story....
Daniel and Varina are the characters.
Trench Coat Woman is Your's Truly.

 

The Wolf is the continuing bad guy of the series. He disappeared for awhile... But now he's back.

Without further ado.... Christmas Shopping!

   “Daniel! Come on! We’re here to Christmas shop!”

   Daniel Adams was jolted out of Debussy’s Reverie. He let his hands fall from the piano ivories into his lap. Still in the daydream produced by the melody which had so recently poured forth from his fingers, Daniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he looked up, blue eyes flashing open. In front of him stood his friend, Varina Webb, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders in waves of soft curls.

   If Daniel had to pick one instrumental piece to accompany Varina through life, it would be Debussy’s Reverie. Starting soft and sweet, it soon unexpectedly turned wildly minor. Like Varina, it was altogether mysterious.

   “Daniel?” she said again.

   “Hmm? Oh sorry.” Daniel had drifted back into his muse. Varina smiled at him, though behind her patient exterior, Daniel could tell she was annoyed.

   “I know you love the piano store, and that playing a grand is wonderful-“ Daniel’s own grand piano had been left in London when he moved to the United States- “but we came to the mall to do some Christmas shopping, not to the play the pianos.”

   “I know,” sighed Daniel heavily. He reluctantly left his spot at the piano bench, casting longing glances behind him at the Steinway as he and Varina left the store.

   “Maybe we can come back after we’re done shopping,” Varina said kindly, “and after we meet… you know,” she whispered the last few words and Daniel was reminded why they had come to the mall in the first place.

   Under the false pretences labeled “Christmas shopping,” Daniel Adams and Varina Webb had come to the mall to acquire intelligence. For Daniel and Varina weren’t just friends out searching for the best deals, they were partners. Partners in solving crime.

   Daniel and Varina were secret agents who worked for L.U.K.E., an acronym which stood for League of Undercover Knowledge and Espionage.

   They had been contacted by the Big Boss himself the previous afternoon. The message had been short, and in code. Thank goodness Daniel was the world’s best code breaker (though he only ranked fifth in lock breaking).

   He had the message decoded within the hour.

   It read as follows: 

TOP SECRET:

An agent has important intel. Meet her at the mall tomorrow, 3:00, food court, under the palm tree. She knows who you are and she’ll find you. Ask her why she’s wearing sunglasses in doors. She will reply with, “Oh dear, am I still wearing my sunglasses? They’re clip-ons… etc,” and you will know who she is. Tell no one.

-BB.

   So Daniel and Varina had prepared to meet this mysterious woman, travelling to the mall under the guise of Christmas shoppers. They fit in perfectly.

****

   It was exactly 2:48 when Daniel and Varina entered the food court. Varina groaned.

   “What?” Daniel asked.

   “Look how many palm trees there are in here!” Varina said. “How do we know which is the right one?”

   Daniel looked around. “Hmmm…. I don’t know, how?”

   “It wasn’t a joke,” Varina rolled her eyes, a slight smile playing across her lips. They stood and stared for awhile, scanning the trees but trying to appear as if they were really scanning the food vendors.

   “There is only one live palm tree in here,” Varina muttered. “The rest are fakes. I say we choose the tree that is alive, it is the only thing that sets it apart from the others.”

   “Good eyes Holmes,” said Daniel with a nod.

   “Why thank you, Watson,” Varina replied with a smile.

   Daniel glanced at his watch. “2:52… Hmm, we’re eight minutes early. Can we get something to eat?”

   “I suppose so,” replied Varina.

   Seven minutes later they were seated at a table next to the live palm tree, trying to block out the noise of the court, and trying to enjoy their gyros without making a mess.

   “Mmmm, Greek food,” Daniel shouted over the din, taking a sloppy bite. Varina handed him a napkin. Daniel glanced at his watch. 3:00.59. Daniel was about to say , “she’ late,” when a woman in a trench coat, Indiana Jones fedora, and sunglasses clipped to her regular lenses, bumped into their table, a tray-full of food balanced precariously in her hands.

   “Oop!” she said. “Mind if I sit here for a moment to get my bearings?”

   “No problem,” Daniel said in a friendly voice. He stood up and pulled out a chair for the woman. She gratefully sat down with a plop and set her tray on the table.

   Varina cast a glance at Daniel who nodded slightly.

   “It must be awfully bright if you’re wearing sunglasses inside,” said Varina casually, casting a sly glance at the woman.

   “Oh dear, am I still wearing my sunglasses?” the woman said, putting on a practiced embarrassed look. “They’re clip-ons, see? Much easier than getting a prescription pair of sunglasses.”

   “I prefer contacts myself,” Varina replied.

   As the woman asked about the medical benefits of contact lenses, she slipped a scrap of paper to Daniel under the table.

   “Thanks for letting me sit here! I’ll be off now! Nice chattin’ with ya!” the woman smiled broadly at Daniel and Varina and then grabbed her tray and promptly left, disappearing into the crowd without so much as a backwards glance.

   Daniel and Varina finished their gyros, not wanting to draw any unexpected attention to themselves, and were just about to get up to leave when two men loomed up in front of their table, casting a shadow over them.

   “May we help you?” Daniel asked in his sharp British accent.

   “Where did she go?” asked one of the men.

   “Who?”

   “Don’t play ignorant with us skinny boy!” said the other man. Daniel glanced self-consciously at himself. He could eat and eat but never gain any weight – giving him many uncouth nicknames.

   “Where did she go? Short, trench coat, sunglasses, she was sitting at your table.” The first man glared at Daniel and Varina.

   “There has been no one sitting here but us and a pesky little fly that keeps trying to steal my food,” said Daniel casually, batting at the fly which had landed on his gyro wrapper.

   “What information did she give you?” demanded the first man.

   “We don’t know what you’re talking about and we’re beginning to feel threatened,” said Varina.

   “Threatened? I’ll give you threatened! I’ll call security! They’ll make you talk!” said the Second, becoming flushed.

   “I’m not the one making a scene and threatening people,” Varina said coolly. “I think security guards would enjoy our story much more than yours. Now, you can either let us go, or we’ll call over that nice, burly guard and tell him you’re threatening us.”

   The two men scowled at Daniel and Varina and then skulked back from whence they came.

   Daniel and Varina chuckled and after throwing away their trash, proceeded to actually do some Christmas shopping.

   Then they left the mall, heading to L.U.K.E.’s New York City HQ building.

   “Trench Coat Woman sure was mysterious,” said Daniel as he pulled to a stop in the busy NYC rush hour traffic.

   “Yes,” agreed Varina, fighting to be heard over the angry yells of other drivers and their furious, impatient laying on of their horns.

   “Did Trench Coat Woman seem at all…. familiar?” Daniel asked.

   Varina thought for moment. “Come to think of it… she did! Actually, I can remember seeing a woman dressed exactly like Trench Coat Woman at nearly every mission we’ve been sent on!”

   “Me too! Creepy,” said Daniel.

   “I wonder who she is,” mused Varina.

****

   Half an hour later Daniel and Varina locked themselves in one of L.U.K.E’s sound proof meeting rooms. No one had questioned their doings and Varina was glad. Not that L.U.K.E. agents went around blabbing about former missions. Everything was top secret for security reasons and questions pertaining to missions were rarely asked and answers never given, unless permission had been granted beforehand.

   The only people – outside of those that went on the mission – that were required to know about the missions were the Loggers, who wrote down mission notes to send to the Big Boss and the other L.U.K.E. bigwigs.

   “So did Trench Coat Woman give you something?” Varina asked when she and Daniel had locked themselves in the room. “She left in such a hurry! I hope we didn’t miss the message.”

   “She slipped me a slip of paper,” Daniel said. He pulled it out of his pocket and uncrumpled it. Two words were written across it:

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

   “Why would the Big Boss send us to get Season’s Greetings?” Daniel asked.

   Suddenly the light bulb above Daniel and Varina’s head flickered and died.

   “Oh great…. We’ll have to call the janitor,” said Varina, feeling around in the dark for a light. 

   The light flickered back on above their heads and simultaneously Daniel and Varina had the same idea.

   “Microdot,” they said at the same time.

****

   Microdots enabled entire messages to be given in small areas – for example, the dot on a. lower case “i” or the period at the end of a sentence. The only way to recover the message was to read it with a microdot reader.

   Luckily, Daniel and Varina had one handy.

   “This looks like a job for the Sleuth42!” Varina said, pulling out to instrument from her trench coat pocket. The Sleuth42 had many features. It worked as a flashlight, a microdot reader, a master key, a syringe, and many more things (Varina even claimed it made good French fries).

   Varina handed it to Daniel who carefully swiped it across “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

   “I got something!” Daniel said after a few minutes. He pressed a few buttons and the message hidden in the exclamation mark projected onto the wall.

   “I found a new use for the Sleuth,” said Daniel. “Projector! We could watch movies on this thing.”

   “Except that the message is scrambled and up-side-down,” said Varina.

   “I can fix that,” Daniel pressed a few more buttons and the message turned itself around, slowly aligning itself in the right order.

   Daniel and Varina gasped when they read the message.

The Wolf is in the flock. 

THE END.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Thanksgiving!

"Happy thanksgiving!" said Varina, and she meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Daniel looked at her from under his mop of blond hair.
"What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a Happy Thanksgiving, or mean that it is Thanksgiving whether I want it or not; or that you feel thankful this morning, or that it is a morning to be thankful on?"
"All of them at once," said Varina. Then she paused. "Wait a minute... Daniel! Are you quoting something again?"
Daniel grinned. "Tolkien himself this time!"
Varina rolled her eyes. "Just cut the turkey, jack!"
"We don't have Thanksgiving in England," Daniel said wistfully. He pointed the carving knife towards the turkey,"This is one of the reasons I am thankful I came to America."
"I'm thankful that you came to America as well," Varina smiled. "And I am thankful for your friendship."
"And I am thankful for yours," Daniel smiled back. Daniel and Varina drifted off into wistful reverie, remembering their past adventures together. Varina was the first to break the silence:
"Cut the turkey! I'm hungry!"

A short story for you starring Daniel and Varina, the hero and heroine of my NaNoWriMo novel. =)

Charlie Brown has been a part of my holidays (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, etcetera etcetera) ever since I can remember. Right now I'm sitting back on the couch watching the second half of their Thanksgiving special - Mayflower Voyages. It's pretty fun to watch since on our long trip this past summer, we saw Plimoth and a re-constructed Mayflower.

Tomorrow is Black Friday. Usually we are in Canada for (American) Thanksgiving, thus evading the sales. Tomorrow, however, we may actually brave the traffic and crazy people. More on that tomorrow, if we survive.

What are YOU thankful for?

Live long and prosper!