Back at it again...

 I know it looks like I haven't been writing, but I have been working offline on my outline for A Hero in Cowboy Boots. It's a Christian contemporary romance set in Salina, Ks.

I finished my outline/summary yesterday, and today I posted the rough draft of Chapter 1 in my focused study group at WVU. I'm excited, because it means I'll be getting feedback from others and can progress now to Chapter 2, which is another chapter I had lost in my computer crash a few years ago. 

I may have to rewrite the chapters I've lost, but hopefully they will be better than the originals. I was so thrilled to find my notebook last week with my outline in it. I've also found my notebook with the printouts of chapters from my first novel, which is close to being completed (rough draft) and will be ready to start editing and rewriting.

I'd post my chapters on here, but I don't think anyone is reading my blog anyway. I never hear from anyone about it. It is one of my goals for my life to get at least one of my stories published. I don't expect to get rich or famous, but the idea of being a published author has long been a dream of mine.

My art is another dream. I have sold a few paintings, not for any large amounts. If anything, I practically give them away. As a matter of fact, I am running low on storage space and have a LOT of paintings around my house, so if anyone is interested, I can share pics online of my art and you can purchase them dirt cheap! lol

In the meantime, I'll keep writing and painting, and storing a lot of it in boxes in the basement. Talk about a fire hazard!

Back to work, Dixie!

The War with Iran

 Today, the US and Israeli military took out the Ayatollah Khomeini. He is dead. The Iranians here in the US who fled Iran back in the 1970s are celebrating in the streets. 

I'm having mixed feelings about all the excitement. On the one hand, we have eliminated a heinous dictator and evil man. There were several others killed in the military strike.

On the other hand, we are right back in the middle of another war. There are drones flying around shooting missiles, and many have been killed so far. 

This is an opportunity for the Iranian army to take over the managing of the country. Not the dictator's army, but the Persian army, who has been waiting for the Ayatollah to be deposed. His cruelty to his people is legendary.

I don't want to see us get into a long term war. I want to see peace. But I honestly don't believe our world can handle peace right now. There are too many banty rooster dictators out there who want to rule the world. And they are dangerous.

I'll be watching my tv closely to see what happens next. 

May God be with us.

A Grave Day

 Today was a grave day. No, nothing serious happened. Dennis and I drove to visit graves today in a couple of cemeteries and we hope to visit a few more graves later today.

First we visited Teresa Marie in her grave. I took pictures of each grave, so that I could take photos of each grave. Then I check the dates and places against other information I have found on websites and other sign ups. I figure that is the most accurate information and I'll use that to update my family trees.

We checked on other family members in the Barnes area of the cemetery: Dennis's dad, Dale Barnes, his mom, Georgia Barnes, his grandparents, Carlos and Rose Knox, as well as various aunts and uncles, and a few friends. We aren't able to stand or walk for very long so we didn't tarry any one place, just gave the immediate family's graves a flower or two and then headed for my family home cemetery south of Norway. 

There we checked on the graves of my parents Floyd and Opal Thompson, my grandparents, Victor and Ruth Thompson, and great grandparents, Peter and Mary Thompson. We had planned to visit my mom's side of the family in the Ionia, Ks. cemetery, but we ran out of flowers and energy, and our backs were killing us trying to walk on the uneven ground, so we came home and spent most of the day relaxing. Memorial Day we'll go to Ionia and hit some of the northern cemeteries, Chester, Ne. and Belleville, Ks.

We did run into an unusual gravestone in the Norway cemetery. We may use the wording on our own gravestones. :)

Still Writing

I'm still writing. I haven't disappeared yet. I posted my story Jordan's Alibi in one of my WVU forums and got some very interesting nits (critiques).  It has inspired me to rewrite and extend this flash fiction piece into a regular short story. I'll repost the story when it is ready.

I'm also dusting off my contemporary novel I was working on several years ago, A Hero in Cowboy Boots. I have misplaced the notebook where I had printouts of my manuscript, and when my last computer crashed, I lost the digital version, so I'm searching high and low to find that notebook so I can get back to writing on that project too.

On the art side, we have begun another fascinating year at the Clifton Art Buffs, and yes, I'm still President. I'm beginning to think that is a life sentence! LOL. I don't really mind, but I do wish I could take a break of it for a year or so and just be a member. Unfortunately, our membership has dropped to 3, so Shirley and I are the extent of our officer candidates. There is one more member, who is 90 years old and she declines to take an office. I don't blame her.

Family wise, we have had numerous viruses floating around in our communities, and our grandchildren and great grandchildren have all suffered from either the respiratory or intestinal bugs, but I'm hoping we are past the worst of it. Dennis and I have avoided the bugs by staying at home, except for church and dr. appointments, so that's been a blessing.

Right now, we are concerned about Rusty and Becky, who are in Cabo San Lucas in Mexico. There is a lot of unrest there with an important drug cartel leader just assassinated recently. The Mexican government has recommended that all Americans vacationing there in Mexico remain in place. Rusty and Becky are at some resort there, and repeatedly state they are safe. I'm praying that is true, but I won't rest easy until they return home safely.

We survived another season of grieving Teresa on her birthday on January 12 and her angelversary on February 21. I am always glad when we pass that month or so and can look forward to spring. 

We've had spring weather off and on, with snow and cold temperatures alternating with temps in the 60s and 70s. Crazy weather. Sometimes the temperature will rise or drop as much as 50 degrees in one day. I never know how to dress. So, I usually dress in layers with short sleeves covered with a sweater covered with a heavy coat. And I like to carry a blanket to cover my legs when traveling. 

Well, I'd better get some housework done or I'll run out of clean dishes while running around naked because I ran out of clothes. LOL. I already swept my floors, but Maizie will scatter her toys and whatever items she can steal from us and scatter around the house. Right now she's lying on her back on the floor snoozing.

Bye for now.

Dixie

Jordan's Alibi Version 1

 

F108 Creativity in a Box: Jordan’s Alibi 1000 words.

 

Rules: Only dialogue and no tags,

All objects’  names must start with same letter.

Show a discovery that leads to a conflict between the two characters

1000 words exactly. The rules must be posted above the story but are not counted in the total word count.

***********************

Concordia, Kansas County Jail

November 17, 2025,  10:30 p.m.

“What have you done, Jordan? The police called that you were in jail.  I missed an entire afternoon of work because of this, and I don’t even know what ‘this’ is! You’d better start talking son!”

Melissa eyed the only chair with disgust, wiped the seat off with a gloved hand and sat, glaring at her son.  Her uniform scrubs were a pristine white, and her brunette hair was in a bun.

Jordan sighed and waved his hands. “Me and the gang were just hanging out, and it was getting late, so I was driving them home, since I’m the only one with a running car.” He was wearing faded blue jeans and a t shirt with MAGA emblazoned across his chest. His brown hair was clean and disheveled.

“And?” Melissa encouraged Jordan to go on.

“Well, suddenly, this old man literally jumped out in front of my car! There was no way I could miss him, Mom! I tried to swerve, but  I was too late.  I heard a loud thump and stopped  . The fog was so thick, Mom! I couldn’t see anything except churning  white mist everywhere.”

“Who is this guy you hit?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen him before. I called 911 and they sent a patrolman.”

“What did the police say?”

“They said  they were holding us until they ‘completed their investigation.’  How long do you think it will be before I can go home?”

“I don’t know son. You only have a learner’s permit to drive, so that’s another charge. Had you been drinking or using any drugs?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m checking with the detective and see what they say. In the meantime, you need to think about everything that happened.”

Melissa stood up and paced the small drab cell.  Only a few items were visible: The cot had a thin mattress and cover, the chair, and a commode against the far wall,  a Styrofoam coffee cup with some stale cookie crumbs, and a clock high on the wall.  The floor was dirty concrete.

Melissa shuddered. This is not what she had planned for her son. She saw her son becoming a doctor or lawyer, or a business owner, not a criminal.  Sighing, she glanced at her son, sitting on the cot with his head in his hands, shaking his head in despair.  She  reclaimed her seat on the dirty chair.

“Jordan? Is there anything else I need to know before I leave to talk to the investigator? Any other charges they will make?”

“Of course not, Mom. Like I said, we were just driving home in the fog and the old guy literally jumped out in front of the car. It was like he wanted to get hit. I don’t know, maybe he was suicidal or something, you know?”

“Was he killed on impact, or was he awake for a bit before he died?”

“I didn’t hear him say anything or move. He just laid there.”

“OK. I’m going to talk to the detectives now. I’ll be back later. Get some rest.  OFFICER!”

An officer came, opened the door and allowed her to leave.

 

11:45 p.m.

“Jordan? Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I am now,” Jordan sat up, wiping his eyes.  “what’s new?”

“Our lawyer will be here in the morning to visit you. The investigators had some more charges.”

“What? What charges ?”

“Possession of stolen property.  There were stolen laptops, tablets, chargers, cell phones, and other electronic devices in your car trunk.  What were you thinking, Jordan?”

Melissa paced the small cell, one hand on her brow, another planted firmly on her hip. Her face was contorted with anxiety, concern, and anger.

Jordan stared at her in confusion and shock.

“What? I don’t know anything about any stolen property!  I didn’t steal anything, and I don’t believe my friends would---”

Jordan stopped midsentence.  Surely, they wouldn’t have done this and not tell me! How did they get access to the trunk? Why is this happening?

“What, Jordan? What are you thinking?”

“Remember yesterday, when I had to study for that big exam? Jimmy asked to borrow my car for a few minutes, and I gave him my keys.  I didn’t think anything about it. They’d borrowed it before and nothing came of it. But surely, they wouldn’t have---Oh God, surely, they didn’t rob a store and leave their loot in my car!  Some friends!”

“Oh Jordan! What a mess! I don’t know how we’re going to prove that you weren’t in on that robbery, if that is what happened. Did anyone see you in the library while you were studying? Do you have an alibi?”

“I’m not sure---wait! The librarian talked to me briefly while I was there. We were talking about a book that I needed for my term paper. Mom! Can you go talk to her about me? Her name is Sally Goodman.  I was by her desk the entire time I was there.”

“I certainly will, but you will be answering for the manslaughter charges anyway. And more punishment  at home, “if” you get out of jail.”

“Yes, mom.”

One week later, after bail was posted and Jordan was home under curfew, the lawyer called and told the family that after investigation, Jordan’s alibi had checked out, so he was cleared of the theft charges, his friends had been arrested for the crime, and the family of the old man had reported he had been suicidal for months and had tried this method several times. They were ruling his death as suicide.

The only charge that remained was driving without a full license. His permanent license would not be issued until he was 20 years old as a result of this incident.  His partying was over.

Jordan was doing chores and odd jobs in the community to atone for his “crime” and he was attending church every Sunday with his Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Creativity in a Box assignment

 I know it seems like I haven't been writing, because I haven't been posting on this blog, but actually, the opposite is true.

Some of you will remember that I belong to an online writing university called Writers Village University. It's an organization that allows writers to hone their craft by paying one membership fee and from that point onward all the classes are free, unless there is a book to be used, which can be purchased through Amazon or at any book store.

I've been working on a class called Creativity in a Box, which was challenging but fun. We had to choose at least 3 rules for our story and there were several obligatory rules to follow as well. 

It had to be exactly 1000 words, not counting the rules, which had to be posted above the story. This is a challenge for me, because as you probably know by now, I tend to write books rather than paragraphs. 😆

I posted my assignment in the classroom, then in my focused study group, and now I will post it here. I plan to rewrite the story, expanding it to include more descriptions, more emotions, more actions, more conflict, and more dialogue.

If you are interested in reading more of my writing, just message me on my phone or send me an email with any comments you may have. Or you can wait and read and comment on the expanded version.

I hope you enjoy it. I'll post the story in the next comment.

 Our art club is down to three members. So, if we want to keep up our tradition of displaying paintings in the bank, I need to get something new painted.

I've recycled frames and retouched some old paintings that I just didn't feel were quite right. And I've reused so many of my old paintings through the years because I just didn't have anything new. 

So I have made one of my New Year's resolutions to start getting at least one new painting every month. I've got the supplies, and a few frames not in use, so there's really no excuse for not painting on them. 

I waste a lot of time trying to decide what to paint. I am a mood painter. Sometimes I'm in the mood for a somber dark painting, and sometimes I want something with a lot of light and bright colors. If I try to paint something outside of my mood for the day, I get frustrated easily and usually don't finish it. If I do finish it, I'm never happy with it. It goes back into the closet and maybe I'll pick it up and start working on it again later on.

The top image is a Halloween scene in a graveyard in colored pencil. It was a fun project, and challenging because I did it on black cardstock paper. The paper soaked up the pencil so much that I never did get the colors done like I wanted. But it got compliments at art club anyway. I'll keep it framed and maybe display it at the bank next Halloween.

The lower image is of an acrylic painting I did for my young grandson when he was born. But by the time it was done, he had outgrown it. So I'm keeping it for display at the bank and possibly for sale, if anyone is interested, just contact me.

Next time I'll present some of my more serious works.

A Canvas Too Late?

 Exploring my Blogger site, I had a epiphany: I still have a page devoted to my art! I had completely forgotten all about it, how embarrassing! And I haven't posted on it since 2012. Oh, my goodness.

So, I decided to try posting some of my artwork on here, perhaps some art tips I have picked up through the years and see where it goes.

In 1984, I was invited to join our local art club The Clifton Art Buffs by a friend who is a charter member. I was interested in art and had been since I was in grade school. My parents had noticed I seemed to have an affinity for art and actually seemed to have some "talent" in that direction.

So they signed me up for Art Instruction Schools. You've probably seen those ads in magazines before if you are over 50 years old. They have a picture that they promise a scholarship if you can copy the drawing and send it into the company. I copied the drawing and my mom sent it in.

Wonder of wonders! The school called or sent a letter to my parents and wanted to set up an appointment to discuss my "scholarship". In hindsight, they obviously made appointments with every young artist's parents. The old bait and switch thing, you know.

One day, the salesman for Art Instruction Schools, showed up at our door. I wondered if he had problems finding our place out in the country. Our address at that time was not as specific as addresses are now. It was Rural Route 2, with the City and State. No box number, no street address. 

After talking to my parents for what seemed like a long time (to me, anyway), they called me into the room (our kitchen table) and asked me if I wanted to take this course that they offered. I said "sure" and then they sat me down and told me all that it would involve. Hours every day of drawing and later on painting. Exercises of shading and learning new techniques in drawing. Learning perspective (I still struggle with that) and a bunch of other topics. I was told that this would be a serious obligation, that it cost a lot of money, but they (my parents) would buy this course for me if I would use it to become a commercial artist. But

they warned, if I didn't take it seriously and do something with it, I would have to pay them back.

Whoa, Nellie!

I thought their course was cool and I wanted to try it, but to pay my parents back? I was ten years old. How could I pay anyone anything? At that time, the only job I could get was babysitting the four brats just down the road for a quarter dollar an hour! This course was several hundred dollars!

I just stared at them, then stared at the man trying to sell this thing to us, then at the floor, then the ceiling. I thought and thought, and finally, after Daddy asked, "Are you going to do this?" I replied,

"Yes."

A few weeks later, a large box was delivered while I was at school. I was so excited when I got home and saw it on the dining room table. I tore into it, and pulled everything out, and when I found the huge notebook that folded so it would stand upright while I was drawing, I sat down and read it cover to cover. I was in love!

Needless to say, I started right away. Well, not right away. I had farm chores to do first, then supper, then school homework. But as soon as that was all done, I did my first sketch and a shading exercise and showed my parents. 

My dad was never a demonstrative man, but he smiled and nodded, and I knew he was happy with it. My mom was more excited and said she thought it was very good and to keep it up.

I worked on that course almost every day until I got in high school and then it fell to the side somewhat as school activities took over my life. I did use it from time to time to assist with school artwork that I had to do, but it really wasn't something I had time for.

After I got married, I had my parents send it to me in my new home several states away, so I would have something to do when alone while hubby was on duty with the Navy. I did a few chapters but never did finish the course. It grew to be quite difficult as the lessons grew harder, and it also became more expensive when I had to buy new equipment or new supplies. But I still hung on to that notebook and some of the equipment and a couple of large paperbacks.

Through the years, I worked on it from time to time and always kept it as a reference. I believe it was worth the money, and I got feedback from the instructors, which was supportive and interesting. At one point, I contacted the school to find out if there was more to it than just that one notebook, and if I could get access and for what cost? To pick up where I had left off, would cost over $2000, four times what the original cost had been. I told them that no, I couldn't afford that on a military dependent's money but if there were any parts of it that I could get to work on, I'd appreciate it. A few weeks later, I got a second notebook with more chapters to complete and an offer to allow me to pick up where I left off at a later date for that previously offered money.

So, back to the Art Buffs. My friend invited me to join her group, and I agreed to visit to see if it was something I wanted to try. I've been a member ever since except for a few years when I was working in the medical field. I've been an officer most of those years, and President for over 22 years.

I will be posting some of the artwork I've done through the years in this blog. I hope you enjoy it.

Comments are welcome. Some of my work is for sale, some of it has been given away as gifts or donated to various causes. I keep my work very reasonable in price. Some are offended because I don't give it all away. Frames and supplies cost money. I cannot keep doing this for free. So please don't think I'm trying to rip anyone off.

I hope I'm not too late with this blog. I've always wanted to share my work with others.