Fiction Snippet

First, I would like to give a shout out to frequent reader and occasional commenter OldAFSarge. Do yourself a favor and go checkout his WWII historical fiction posts. It's very good stuff especially for a history geek like me. 

As many of you are aware, My Sister...The Devil is the aspiring smut serious romance with fantasy elements author in the family. My dad has written a book or three as well though he has not yet, to my knowledge, published any to date. I, too, have been bitten by the writing bug (duh...that's why this blog exists), and I've had a novel idea kicking around in my head for the better part of a decade. 

The idea started back in the dark days of The Queen's Mystery Illness when she found comfort in "treasure hunt" novels. She had a particular affection for Clive Cussler novels which I find interesting as well. I also am a huge SciFi fan, and I once read a book by Mike Resnik called Ivory. This idea is taking those two elements, stuffing them in a blender along with a heaping liberty or ten with certain Biblical elements, hitting the puree button and walking away to find the right setting and characters for the story.

Since this idea was hatched, several snippets have been drafted. Some of which are temporarily detained on a crashed hard drive that I have not had opportunity to get to a competent computer geek to seek retrieval. What I am about to offer up to you is the "prologue" of what I hope will be a novel length story. Only a few people have seen this since it was first written. I'm going to try to crank out more snippets as time allows. Feedback, comments, constructive criticism and gentle corrections are welcome in the comments. Be kind. I've been nurturing this baby for a long time.

So, without further adieu, I give you the "prologue" to what I am tentatively calling "The Garment": 

Prologue

Cana in the province of Galilee during the reign of Emperor Tiberius

Walking through the marketplace of Cana is always a challenge for anyone. The crush of humanity all around can be overwhelming at times. There are people everywhere going about their business whatever that business happens to be. The bustling crowds make a vibrant background noise that is an ever present rumble of conversations, arguments, negotiations, meat sizzling over open fires, footsteps on cobblestones all punctuated by frequent shouts of vendors hawking their wares. Fortunately, the stables and animal pens were at the other end of town. Otherwise, the already confusing mix of aromas made up of equal parts produce, cooking food, flowers, spices, human sweat, bad breath and dry, dusty air would be impossible for him to breathe.

The stench of animal excrement would have ruined the lovely, mouth watering smell of the roasting lamb coming from one of the many merchant stalls in the market. Which stall in particular was not readily apparent, but he was certain he could follow his nose to the source were he so inclined.

For him, walking in the market was even more of a challenge than for most. Not that he stood out in a crowd. His appearance was unremarkable looking every bit the part of a Jewish carpenter that he had been to this point in his incarnate form. Those who did not know him barely gave him a second glance, a trait that would serve him well on occasion in the near future. The reason he had to exercise great care was to avoid leaving a trail of miracles in his wake before it was time for his true nature to be revealed. 

Just last night, his mother had asked him to turn water into wine at a wedding feast. Fortunately, the servants weren’t paying enough attention to what he was doing to remember that little feat. He had more to be mindful of now that the baptism his cousin John gave him a few days ago had resulted in a small group of disciples. They followed him everywhere he went, hung on his every word, and he had to see that their needs were taken care of as well as his own in addition to teaching them the things his Father had sent him to teach.

As he made his way through the market, he came upon a garment maker’s tent and heard the unmistakable voice of his Father once again.

“Go see the garment maker.” The Father’s voice said.

The life of a carpenter is hard on garments. His own garment, which covered his well muscled frame and tanned skin, was tattered and threadbare. As he reflected on this, he instantly knew the reason for his visit to the garment maker. His time was coming soon, and he needed to look less like a carpenter and more like a teacher.

He turned to his small gathering of disciples as they stopped behind him and spoke. “Cephas, I must see the garment maker. You and the others continue on the road to Capernaum, and I will follow soon.”

“Are you sure, Rabbi?” replied Cephas. Simon, a brash man with the worn hands of a fisherman and all the subtlety of a Roman Legion laying siege to a single house, still didn’t understand why he called him Cephas (meaning “stone”), and Simon wasn’t sure he was prepared to know the reason why since stoning was still a very popular punishment in Israel, Roman occupation or not.

“I am sure Cephas. Go.” he said.

As his disciples continued on, he stepped up to the garment maker’s tent. He took a moment to examine the garment maker’s work before turning to the garment maker herself. The garments were very well made, and he could tell that the maker had been at her craft for a long time. The garment maker was a woman not unlike his own mother though maybe a few years younger. She had dark hair that would have accentuated emerald green eyes had her head not been bent down over her work. She addressed him without looking up as she continued her work on a tunic.

“Your tunic will be ready before the sun goes down, Lord.” she said with the understated confidence of someone who knows her business.

“You do excellent work, but are you sure that garment is for me?” He answered to test her.

“Lord, I am quite certain this garment is for you.” She said emphatically. “You are the Messiah, and this is the garment that I was commanded to make for you.”

“Tell me how you came to know this.” he probed.

The garment maker answered him humbly saying, “Lord, an angel visited me in a dream four Sabbaths ago and told me to make a garment like no other. He said I should weave a tunic of the highest quality, of one color with neither spot nor blemish, simple in style but woven without seam from the top. He said that the tunic would need to last a lifetime and that it would be worn by the King of Kings. I was told to come to Cana, set up my tent and wait until the day after the wedding feast. He said that I would see only one person today, and this garment would be for that man.”

“You did this all because of a dream?” he asked.

“Yes, Lord.” She answered in a whisper.

“What is your name?” he asked her gently.

She seemed to ignore him for a short time as her hands continued about their appointed tasks. Finally, she stopped her activity for a moment, took a deep breath and heaved a tired sigh.

“Lord, I am but a simple garment maker, and my name is not worthy to pass your lips.” She said as she once again continued her work.

He was amazed by the intensity with which she worked. Her movements were precise. No effort was wasted. Her eyes were focused on the garment, and he realized that she had yet to look at him at all.

“Nonetheless, please tell me who you are and where you come from so that I can give you a blessing.” He said.

“You are too kind, Lord. I am of the tribe of Benjamin, and I come from Tarsus. I have a son, Saul, who is about your age. He is a tent maker and student of Gamaliel. I ask no blessing for myself, but I pray you will remember my son.” She answered.

“Your faith and humility are rare in Israel woman of Tarsus. Because of your faith in performing this service for me, I will remember your son as you prayed. If it is the will of God The Father, I will call your son and raise him up to perform a great work to spread the Word of God far and wide even to Rome itself.”

Tears began to form in the garment maker’s eyes as she whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”

She took a moment to wipe her eyes with a scrap piece of fabric and compose herself. Taking another deep breath, she finished stitching the hem of his garment. With a look of contentment that comes with a job well done, she straightened herself and held the garment out to him saying, “It is finished, Lord.”

He took the garment in his hands and examined her handiwork closely. The color was perfectly uniform with no stray threads of darker color mixed in nor any spots or blemishes just as she had said. The weave was tight and strong. It felt soft to his skin yet he sensed that it was more durable than the rough carpenter’s garment he was wearing. He knew instantly that the garment would fit Him comfortably.

“Your work is excellent, Susanna, daughter of Benjamin. I have never seen a garment of such high quality. It will serve me well. Thank you.” The Lord said.

She was momentarily stunned to hear her name spoken from his lips; but, just as quickly, she relaxed and reminded herself that she should have expected him to know everything about her. “A higher compliment I could not ask for, Lord.” She answered. “I must go now and return to my people. There is one other thing, Lord.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“The angel said that you would wear that tunic on the day you die three and a half years from now. I pray that the angel is wrong, Lord.” She said with a heavy heart.

“Angels are only messengers who speak the words they are commanded to by God the Father. Nevertheless, I too pray that my Father will spare me the suffering that has been foretold. Go, and peace be with you.” He said knowing that she had not told him everything of her dream, but the parts she had withheld were not about him or his future.

The day was coming to an end as the sun was getting low in the sky. The garment maker began packing her things for the long trek home after he had taken the road to Capernaum on the trail of his little flock of disciples. Just as the sun set, she lifted her burden and stood. As she straightened, the angel from her dream appeared before her. There was no mistaking him as his white robe was immaculate and perfect in every way gleaming as if in the full sunlight of midday despite the both of them being in the deepening shadows of sundown. He said nothing and merely tilted his head as if he were listening for a distant sound. Suddenly, he nodded once and took the garment maker’s hand. She trembled slightly at his touch both out of fear and awe. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen the two of them standing there one moment and gone the next as if they had never been.

 

 All copyrights reserved by author 2023

How to Offend a Snowflake

Honestly, I didn't set out to offend anyone. Really. I have very little trouble getting along with people. In hindsight, I should have expected what happened given the forum. Like a lot of people, I have a personal Facebook page. Facebook , in their infinite wisdom, has labeled me extremely conservative which I find a tad presumptuous that they would assume my political leanings based on my postings. Apparently, they find no irony in hypocrisy. But, whatever.

Anywho, around about a couple of months ago, we were out for a family outing, and I saw something that I found amusing and posted same to The Book of Feces. Said post was as follows:

"Just saw a woman wearing a “Notorious RBG” (Ruth Bader Ginsberg) t-shirt. I never noticed until now that RBG bears a striking resemblance to Don Knotts."

The t-shirt in question was more or less this one:

For comparison, here is a photo of Don Knotts:

Boy howdy, I didn't expect this in response:

"Wow. I hope when I'm judge in my old age, people look at my loving treatment of  my family, my exceptional education, my contribution to my work groups, and not my looks (even though I do take very good care of myself physically and aesthetically). So fun being judged! In Christian tradition I thought this was frowned upon?"

Um....okay. This person is someone I went to high school with; and, to be honest, I cannot recall ever having a class with her or knowing her back then. I (foolishly, in retrospect) accepted her friend request when I got connected up with my 30 year high school reunion Facebook page. She lives in either Denver or Boulder Colorado, is pretty proud of her looks from the number of selfies she posts and hates Trump. You can safely assume her political leanings. I won't be offended.

And, now for the rest of the story.

My response:

"I’m not sure what about my post gave you the impression that I was in any way judging RBG or overlooking her accomplishments, education, etc. However, nothing could be further from the truth. While I disagree with her politically, I said nothing negative or judgmental about her. Further, I fail to see how commenting that one person bears a resemblance to another person is judgmental or critical or unchristian. If I had said that she resembled someone or something and then stated a negative connotation with that statement, then I could see you inference having some validity. As it is, you have judged me based on an assumption that you made that I was somehow implying a resemblance to Don Knotts was somehow a negative reflection on RBG. So, go put your stones away and go have a look in the mirror for the log in your own eye."

Her retort:

"Then what do you gain by posting a hilarious and derogatory comparison if not to be judging?"

My Rebuttal and Final Word:

"Why do you judge me by assuming that I’m making a hilarious and derogatory comparison? Did I say that the resemblance was hilarious? No. Did I say that the resemblance was in any way derogatory? No. Did I say anything Judgmental AT ALL about RBG? Not one word. That is all you reading something into two sentences worth of text.

The truth of the matter is that my father-in-law has watched The Andy Griffith Show every night for the last two years, and my wife, daughter and I watched The Incredible Mr. Limpet the other day. Both of which have Don Knotts in prominent roles. When I saw the t-shirt, I thought the face belonged to Don Knotts, and it was only after I figured out what the words on the T-shirt said from a distance of 20 feet away that I realized it was a picture of RBG. So, pardon me for sharing an innocent observation."

She chose to shut up after that. Surprisingly, she didn't unfriend me either.

Happy Blogiversary To Me

I've been a bit busy, and I let an important milestone slip past without nary a whisper. Behold, back in August, this little corner of the internet turned 10. Imagine my surprise. 

I've been in the process of saving my posts to Word documents for later compilation. Don't ask my why. It seemed like a good idea at this time. In the process, I couldn't help but re-read a lot of what I've written; and, frankly, I'm amazed that some of you have hung on as long as you have. There are the occasional rare gems tucked away here and there, but a lot of what I've written is pretty meh (you may have a differing opinion, and that's fine). 

One of these days, I might just put together a "best of" post to link to some of those gems that some of you late comers might have missed along the way. 

Anyway, thank you to everyone for hanging around. Drop a comment or two once in a while if you are so inclined. No promises, but I'm going to try and kick out more content beyond just funny (to me) memes. There are several posts queued up for this coming week. I hope you enjoy. 

Blogger, I Hate You

I just spent the better part of an hour drafting and editing some content. Blogger blinks, and...poof. No more content. An hour of work wasted.

Friggin' programmable toaster....grumble....it's free, but that's no excuse....snarl...a pox of flaming monkeys on your keyboard....

I'm going to take my allergy clogged head to bed. I might get motivated to try again tomorrow. I might now.

More Changes

It was with great optimism that I attempted to resume regular blogging here a while back. I think the results speak volumes about how that worked out. Life, as usual, has been in a near constant state of flux thanks to health issues (mine and others), work issues, crazy ideas and the overwhelming need to sleep once in a while.

So, in an effort to make things even MORE complicated than they already are, I went and made a Facebook page for the blog. Facebook claims you can visit the page at fb.me/preachersandhorsethieves . I would assume that searching "Preachers and Horse Thieves" will get you roughly in the ballpark as well, but I have been wrong before.

In theory, this will allow me to post quick thoughts and pictures from my phone without the need to actually think and edit. We shall see how this works out.

Testing...Testing

Testing…testing…1…2…3.

Is this thing on?

Hello? [hello…ello…lo]

Is anybody still out there?

[Looks at the pulpit…runs a finger along the edge of the lectern …blows the dust off the top]

It's been a while since I stood here in the pulpit with anything important to say. The last time was to update you all on the failed attempt to adopt M&M 2.0.

That whole situation really took its toll on The Queen and I. It's taken a long time to really feel any desire to sit down and write anything substantive. There are still stories that I want to tell, and there are still things in the world around me that I want to comment on. But, it's been difficult to work up any kind of motivation and energy here lately.

So, I thought I would try something new. As most of you know, smart phones these days have nifty voice recognition built into them to ease email and word processing functions. So, I'm actually “writing” this to you by dictating it to my phone as I drive to work.

This will obviously require some later editing at a real computer as this “dictation” will be mostly stream of consciousness. But, hopefully I can use this windshield time that usually just gets devoted to listening to talk radio, music or an audio version of the Bible to actually put down some coherent thoughts.

As I said, there are still stories that I would like to record for M&M's sake. There is the chocolate chip cookie dough story, learning to fly, my crazy grandfather, memories of my grandmother's.

There is the story of Mimi going toe to toe with several people, sometimes verbally, sometimes not. There are my thoughts on the current election cycle. There is a whole series of posts I would like to do on the Constitution and the first 10 amendments.

Then, there are the book ideas. I've had at least two book ideas swirling around in my head for a long time. I just need to have time to start writing. If this experiment in dictation works, this may be the solution to getting those books out of my head and into print. I may share an excerpt that is the basis for the book soon and see what you think.

Or, I may not. We'll just have to see.

For now, let's just leave it that I haven't forgotten about the friends and connections I've made on the blog. And I'm looking forward to hearing what you all had to say in response to what I had to share.

I Thought It Was Funny

It's been a while, but I'm still here. I've just had lots going on. I promise to write an everything update soon. In the meantime, here's a little slice of workplace humor from earlier this week.

So, my supervisor puts a note in the file:

“Put monkey on back of [the attorney] or [the claimant] to get us [the property damage] info or else we close [the file] in 7 days.”

My response in the file notes:

“Monkey installed on [claimant attorney’s] back. Monkey not happy being so close to an attorney.“

They really should install a snark filter on the claims system. 

Happy Anniversary and Other Stuff

Greetings one and all. With all my free time, you'd think I would post more often. I guess you could say that I've been preoccupied. So preoccupied in fact, that I neglected to notice the five year anniversary of my own blog. Imagine that.

Yep, five years ago in August, I gave in to the hare brained temptation that writing my thoughts down in pixel form for the amusement of others was a good idea. Thank you all for your continued patronage. If nothing else, I hope I have at least served as an example of how not to run blog.

So, what has been occupying my time?

Well, there has been the whole felony theft mess. The detective assigned to the case by the Dallas Police Department was very nice and patient with us. We were a bit disappointed earlier this week when she called to advise us that the DA's office would not be taking the case and pursuing criminal charges. They considered it a civil matter in light of the fact that we voluntarily gave the property to the thief/con man.

That kicked over my hornet's nest, and I went into private investigator/squeaky wheel mode. I found some more information that we didn't have previously which basically confirmed that the dirt bag really can't tell the truth about anything. I presented that information along with a detailed explanation of how our case most certainly DOES meet the definitions of the Texas Penal Code theft statute, how voluntary surrender of property is not the issue and the intent of the person committing the crime IS, and how the other charges and convictions ARE evidence of his intent according to the statute. In addition to that, I posed several questions that the dirt bag SHOULD answer were he, in fact, a legitimate business man not intent on defrauding people out of their property.

Well, the detective called this morning to let us know that she spoke with another DA who has agreed to take the case. Hurray for the squeaky wheel!!! We'll see what happens next. Personally, I would love to be there when they cuff him and perp walk him out of his nice little neighborhood.

I would also like to find the BIGGEST guy in the Dallas County Jail and convince him to make the thief his girlfriend for the other things he has put The Queen through. That's not happening, but it makes for a comforting fantasy.

Enough about that for now. One of these days, I will post the entire story.

Job search continues. 29 applications. 16 rejections including the AVP position and the unspecified position via the business associate connection. I did have a very good discussion with a recruiter yesterday who gave me some very helpful and honest feedback about my resume. She has a position (one of the 13 remaining) she is working on in Dallas that may or may not be a good fit for me. She emailed the employer while she was on the phone with me and asked if they would be interested in talking with someone like me. The answer was yes. Full resume was to be sent late yesterday or this morning. I hope to hear back soon.

I'm a bit frustrated about the rejections. Of the 16, only 5 have been formal, "Thanks, but no thanks" communications. The rest have all been informal, "the job is no longer posted or checking online reveals that you are no longer under consideration" non-communications.

I'm also frustrated with the available job pool. There is a fair number of good positions available in places I WON'T live. Boston, New York, Chicago, New Jersey. You know...liberal, statist HELL. I compromised a little yesterday and put in for a position in Sacramento, CA only because the salary range was almost double what I was making before.

In other news, I've been assisting someone close to me with their novel writing efforts while starting work on my own. It doesn't help that the person I am assisting is writing trashy romance novel material. My novel has a prologue written and an outline that still needs fleshing out. It's basically a treasure hunt/adventure novel. If there is any interest, I may be persuaded into a sample chapter or sending drafts to beta readers. The Queen loved the prologue. So, at least one person likes the idea.

That's all for now. I have to get busy and find work.