Pets R Us!

Well, the whole family is chopping at the bit in anticipation of our trip to Quartzsite, Arizona, October 23., especially Pickles, our Meyers parrot. You can tell by the look in his eye. It's either that, or he wants to kill something. You never know with him.

The white Chihuahua's name is Taco; I know, not too original, but we like it. It beats Whitey. We rescued this little guy and he has become our watch dog par excellence.

The black Chihuahua lying down next to Taco is Gonzo. We named him after the baseball star who won the World Series for us. They both are our heroe's.

The little Pomeranian sitting like a mule next to Taco and Gonzo is Mittsy. She is the oldest and will be fourteen next month. She just had five teeth pulled and the few that are left cleaned. Yes, it cost a fortune, but we want her last years to be wonderful and not filled with pain and sickness. We can only hope we will be in as good a shape when we are ninety years old!

Below is Annie sitting on top of the couch; she is our long hair Chihuahua. As our Prosac dog, she rules the roost with total abandon and insanity. She will stare at walls and growl; God help us during thunderstorms. She actually is doing better each year and for the first time in seven years, I caught her playing with Gonzo. Real dog play...I was amazed.


All our family loves Quartzsite in the winter. We take long walks in the desert with the dogs, watching them every minute to make sure coyotes don't snatch them up for a meal.

Only amimal lovers can understand the bond between people and their pets. Our animals are like children to us and we couldn't love them any less. We still mourn the loss of our pets that have departed for animal heaven, and we know in our hearts there is such a place. While our little children are in our charge, we are committed to taking the very best care of them. After all, they are helpless without us and we would be so very sad without them.

Write on,

Mittster

Wicked and Sinfull

The evening was a whirlwind -
we were all frenzied and taut,
bodies shaking and grinding
with none of those wasted moments
of precious and too little time.

Tomorrow would come, but tonight
my longing for you became a desire
to hold you close and press my lips
to your rich black-diamond skin.

I slipped my tongue into your wet
essence, delving into the dark
depths of your liquid delights.
My pulse quickened as your fluids
rushed over my palate
like a Jamaican waterfall
of melted creamy caramel sin.

I swallowed the first crescendo of
satisfaction and reached for you
again and again and again,
until my need was sated
and I switched to decaf.

Jolen


For those of you not yet familular with Jolen Whitworth's poetry, her Website is a must!

It's two a.m.; do you know where your mind is?

For many years I worked construction all over the country. Then the recession hit harder than I could ever remember, February 2009. In past recessions I could always find work out-of state, but not this time. Now was the opportunity to try something new.

I had always entertained the thought of writing a novel and now seemed like a good time to give it a try. Since that depressing day in February, I have written two e-books and two murder mysteries of which all but the last mystery have been published. My latest who-done-it is being proofed and should be published before the end of the year.

So why am I still having difficulty grasping the concept that I am an author? Partly because I haven't sold many books, even though everyone says the murder mystery, Evil in the Mirror, is a great read and has five star ratings. I know all the hard work put into promotions will soon pay off, especially after the sequel, Day Stalker, is published, and I will start earning enough money to feel like I am making my own way in life again.

The problem is the crazy hours that I don’t seem to be able to become accustomed to. I am up every morning between one a.m. and two a.m.; and after fixing a cup of coffee, I go to work on the keyboard and write a new blog for the day. Then it’s time to post the blog on Twitter and Facebook and socialize on those two sites until I feel my blog readers are satisfied that I am interested in their lives, which I am. Then I need to continue writing my third murder mystery, Evil Women Wait. By this time it is mid-morning and I need to re-post my blog on Twitter for more exposure.

Lunch time, yes! After lunch, I am ready for a nap because my eyes look like two fried eggs in a bucket of pee. I nap…and wake up in time to watch Seinfeld and some history channel. During this whole procedure, my wife, Sandy, leads a more normal ten hour day taking care of our pets, proofing all my work, and volunteering at Connections Equine Therapy Program in Cornville, Arizona. By six p.m., she is ready to call it a day. Me too, I’m still groggy from my nap…and the whole thing starts over again.

While my very early morning writing is in progress, the Internet failed, yet again, while I am in the middle of writing this blog. I have learned that even though I didn’t to save it on Blogspot, I can still save it in Word, then copy and paste it back later to Blogspot, if and when the service is restored.

OK, maybe one or two readers have managed to get this far on today’s blog, but the rest have gone to sleep from boredom or left for parts unknown. I really have no reason to snivel and Lord knows I hate sniveling from other people. I am one lucky puppy to have the greatest wife on the planet and you know what? I also have the greatest job!

Write on,

Mittster

Thanksgiving Dinner

My daughter Nissa does not get along with my Meyer's parrot, Pickles, as you can tell by the picture she e-mailed me yesterday.

The sad part of this picture is that her caption read, "I'm looking forward to cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year!"

How could someone, especially a family member, be so heartless toward an innocent and harmless bird? Look at the little angel...so obedient and trusting.

When Nissa announced she wanted to cook Thanksgiving dinner this year, who could have known that this is what she had in mind? Now the whole holiday season is ruined for me!

Pickles is sitting on my shoulder while I write this scathing piece about cruelty to animals. Just a minute, he is trying to steal my earring. "Pickles, you little butt head, stop pulling! Ouch, you little bastard! Crap, you've drawn blood again! Get off me, you little monster! You better fly away. When I get my hands on you.... Who am I kidding, I'm not picking you up, you're a feathered White Shark biting machine!"

Oh, are you still reading my blog? I just had to deal with a small problem. Where was I anyway?

I'm just saying,

Mittster and Pickles

Sedona Book Festival

The Sedona Book Festival has come and gone for yet another year, but memories linger in my mind about a most exciting day. Our table paled compared to some of the offerings that day. There were authors with free candy, balloons and trinkets for the passing crowds of readers and the curious. Alas, all we had to offer were smiles, what we hoped was witty conversation, and our dynamite murder mystery, Evil in the Mirror. My wife, Sandy, had to leave the festival about noon and go home to feed pets while I stayed and met many interesting people from around the country.

The gentleman sitting at the table next to us was a professional basketball player turned probation officer turned author, Derek Sailors. His offering, A COPPER TOWN SUMMER , is a historic mystery novel set in Jerome, Arizona in the 1920s. Sandy is reading the book now and says it's a very good read.

I had the pleasure of meeting author Amber Polo, who lives in Camp Verde. It was a thrill to meet another author from the same town we live in. Amber is a librarian turned author and her novel, Flying Free , is a five-star quirky romance. It sounds like a must read for the romantic heart.

For those of you interested in southwest history, Those Days in December, A Frontier Family's Southwestern Journey, by Nancy Lucia Humphry looks like a fascinating read. The only way to find her book is through the publisher, Camucille Press.

Even though I use Wheatmark Publishing in Tucson, Arizona, there is a Sedona publisher out there for writers who want to be published locally. I met Susan Ferguson who is a principal in the Ninth Month Publishing Company. Susan seemed honest and straightforward, two things you need in a publisher.

Debra Beck's Spirited Youth appealed to me because of the importance of helping young girls love themselves. It was great to meet someone whose passion is helping young people. Let's face it; they are the future!

The list could go on and on. It's enough to know that writers, as a whole, are passionate about what they do. We may not have sold a ton of books, but we all had a great time meeting one another and setting the stage for networking our projects through each other's passion for authoring.

Write on,

Mittster

Ghost vs. No Ghost

I had a very interesting conversation with my friend Hoppy the other day about ghosts. He and his wife enjoy going on ghost hunting adventures, while my wife and I can't stay awake late enough at night for the scary little dudes and dudettes to appear.

I have always been sceptical of the phenomenon mainly through fear that there may be something to it. Real genuine ghost hunters like Nancy Bradley and her team will tell you that there is nothing to fear except fear itsself.

I may have been a little harsh with Hoppy while trying to explain that until it is proven scientifically, I will remain a sceptic. I did admit seeing a flying saucer when I was ten years old, and also during the conversation I admitted that my identical twin brother and I are psychic. Come to think of it, as a young man, I had a poltergeist experience while visiting relatives who lived in a creepy old house in Laguna Beach, California.

Well, it isn't like proving the existence of Big Foot by bringing in a dead body, is it. Ghosts are already dead, or are they? Crap, now I'm scaring myself.... Look what you have done, Hoppy!

Oh, I get it; Halloween is coming soon and you wanted to warm me up for the kill. Remember this, my friend, I have the Evil Twins and Otis Buford working for me. I will show you a Halloween you will never forget!

I'm just saying,

Mittster

Democracy Wins Government Fails!

The following was sent to me from a friend who likes a good laugh while crying....

Write on,

Mittster


A clunker that travels 12,000 miles a year at 15 mpg uses 800 gallons of
gas a year.

A vehicle that travels 12,000 miles a year at 25 mpg uses 480 gallons a
year.

So, the average Cash for Clunkers transaction will reduce US gasoline
consumption by 320 gallons per year.

They claim 700,000 vehicles so that's 224 million gallons saved per year.

That equates to a bit over 5 million barrels of oil.

5 million barrels is about 5 hours worth of US consumption.
More importantly, 5 million barrels of oil at $70 per barrel costs about
$350 million dollars.

So, the government paid $3 billion of our tax dollars to save $350 million.

We spent $8.57 for every dollar we saved.

I'm pretty sure they will do a great job with our health care, though.