A Pizza, A Partridge, And A Story

ben rector insta pic

Howdy,

Some days, I think  Christians need cuss words, and not the little “darn it” variety. And yes, I have actually had this conversation with my pastor. Although he seems to view the topic in an entirely different way.

Alright, so it’s been a pretty semi decent day. I just haven’t been feeling well, and since I was babysitting for my sweet little nieces and nephews until late, I didn’t get to go walking, which makes my day feel undone . Not to mention that since I still have my oldest little niece, we got a good size pizza for dinner, and let’s just say she only ate one piece. Just keeping it real here, folks.

FullSizeRender (26)

Today I listened to a webinar from Dale Partridge . He was talking about how to start a business and market a product. I don’t know about all that, but I do know that I want to market my writing. He did give me some ideas as far as making sure that your blog is designed well, and looks professional. I know how to write for a website, I just don’t have all of the design skills to make it look pretty. I’m  looking at Solo Pine designs, I really like their themes. Dale also reminded me of an idea that I had, so I’ll be looking into how to implement that. A little cliff hanger to keep you hooked ;).

Also, I wanted to leave you with a few lines from a short story that I started in, believe it or not, 2012. Wow!! You can tell how inconsistent I used to be with my writing. It’s a story that I had been mulling over writing since my dad had passed away. Here is a snippet.

*** The Picture

The morning sun shone through the large opened window. The light wind blew open the lace curtains, and the air smelled faintly of the roses in full bloom in the garden. All of this was lost on Mrs Kends, as she sat is her straight backed chair. After a few moments, she stood, her bones creaking in protest. As she had done at least a million times before, she crossed the tidy room, and picked up the picture off of the fireplace mantle. She held it in her hands for a few moments, and then hugged it to her chest as if she couldn’t bear to let it go. 

Soon the frame was sprinkled with her tears, she sighed as she sat it back on the mantle and wiped her eyes. “It wouldn’t do to have my boys see me like this,” she thought. They never liked to see her cry, or even upset. They had tried to keep her happy, and they had succeeded. 

She picked up her purse to go to the store, and started out her front door. Suddenly  as if remembering something, she walked back into the house, picked up the picture frame, and placed a kiss on each of the three faces. As she walked away, she smiled thinking of her three boys. Her husband standing by a small boat, and two teenage boys standing, smiling, beside him. 

The store was close enough that she could walk to it. She had always loved to walk even when she was younger. She would wave at her neighbors, dream her dreams, make her plans, and talk to her God. Today, she was lost in thought. She thought of how Tom had just turned fourteen. He had said he didn’t want a party, he wanted a family camping trip.That was for her benefit she knew, she was always saying that they didn’t spend enough time together.

She had packed their clothes, made a picnic lunch for the road, and loaded it all into their 1952 Ford. The telephone rang just as they were about to leave. It was her friend Muriel, her daughter Becky was in trouble again, and would she come over to help? She didn’t want to disappoint her boys, but she was the only one that Becky had been listening to lately. 

She came up with the perfect plan. The boys would go on ahead, and she would have Muriel drive her to the camp grounds later. At first they had balked at the idea, but after a little wheedling and pleading she convinced them to go. Kissing her boys goodbye, she headed to her friend’s home. Driving past her they yelled out their love, making her blush. She smiled at the memory. 

A few minutes at her friend’s house had turned into several hours. She decided to run home to get a few things that she had forgotten for Tom’s birthday, before they left for the campgrounds. A strange man was at her house. She noticed that he wore the uniform of their counties’ sheriffs’ office. ****

I hope that you enjoyed the excerpt from The Picture. I plan on having the entire story available for you soon.

Well, save me a Diet Coke (because seriously I need to get to the store!), and I’ll see you on the flip side,                                                                                                                                              Helen

Listening to Sadie Jones and I by Neil Byrne.

Like the blog on Facebook. Follow me on the Twitter

 

 

Advertisements

About Helen Heard

Hi!! Come on in, take the comfy chair, have a Diet Coke. Let's talk about Jesus, writing, music, family, and which M&Ms are the best (peanut of course)!
This entry was posted in Family, Short Stories, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s