Wendy's Story

Like I said...Very Very Very short.  At least this first installment.  Wendy's helping me get the plot bunnies hopping again. 

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The phone rang four times before anyone in the house picked it up. Wendy answered with her usual joyfulness, having just been playing with her son, Joshie, and daughter, Koti, in the kitchen. The smell of the fresh-baked oatmeal raisin cookies filled the air, and the remains of the flour fight they had been having since finishing the mix hovered around her.


After listening for a moment, a small frown appeared on her face. Her husband’s friend, “Big Mac,” was on the other end, asking to speak with Jay. Wendy did not really care for Big Mac—he made her uneasy. His big lips, squashed nose, and hefty build intimidated her. He always made her feel as though she was a thing to be looked at, and while she was very beautiful, she was not aware of her appearance, or that she captured the attention of everyone in any social situation. She was content with her children and Jay; they were enough for her. So she was not happy with the fact that Big Mac was probably going to ask Jay if he wanted to play poker at Big Mac’s house. It seemed that was becoming a weekly “thing.”


“Jay!” Wendy yelled up the stairs where Jay was changing, having just gotten in from working. “Big Mac is on the phone! He says he needs to talk to you.”


Jay yelled back that he was still not done changing, but that he would take the call upstairs. She waited until Jay picked up before setting the receiver back into the cradle and going into the kitchen to begin cleaning up the original mess, and the other mess that occurred while she was not there to referee.


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Two hours after the phone call from Big Mac, after dinner had been eaten and the cookies exclaimed over, Jay and Wendy sat together on the couch watching television. When their show was over, Jay got up and went to the door.


“Don’t go tonight, please,” Wendy said as she followed him.


“I have to go—I have to win back the money that I lost last week, Honey,” Jay replied as he put on his black trench coat and grey fedora.


Wendy pouted, looking so very sweet that Jay could not help but lean over and give her a long, passionate kiss.


“I won’t be long, Darling. I should be home no later than midnight, I promise.”

On Writing

Well, I don't have much to say...but I say that and usually end up saying a lot.  Verbal diarrhea is something that I am good at, I think, insomuch as I do a lot of it.  I'm really working on doing some more writing, but things just seem to keep getting in the way.  And the title of this blog is a play on Steven King's book.  I'm nowhere as good as he is, and he discusses writing at every opportunity--something I can't do and don't have time for.  For example, this is what my week is like:

Weekdays--I get up at 6 in the morning, get ready for work.  I work eight hours a day (though I only seem to work 4 because nothing gets done, and I at least get to blog some while I am here), go home, fix dinner, then clean the kitchen.  I may have to do laundry.  Then the hubby wants us to spend time together, so I might be able to get some research time in while we are watching a movie.

Weekends--Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.  Apparently, we live in the most bug-infested house in all of the world.  Not roaches or anything like that, but we get these itty-bitty centipedes, pill bugs, and weird-looking worms that come into the house and curl up and die all over the place.  So the vacuum and I are on a first-name basis right now (which I hate to do).  The husband DOES help--but I absolutely have to get the bugs out of the seam of the carpet and baseboard before I'm happy.

The bad thing is that we still haven't unpacked everything--or, more importantly, my husband hasn't unpacked all of his stuff, yet.  I'm still bringing boxes from the other house (almost done!), but we have boxes in our living room with stuff he pulled out of his truck when he totaled it in February!  I'm exhausted because he wakes me up when he does (the man can't sleep past 7 am), and we are constantly moving, going to someone else's house and traveling.

No more!  Not this weekend!  We have a birthday party to go to, but that's it!  We are going to stay home the rest of the time and only go out for pizza (frozen, that is).

Yeah, like that's going to happen.  I need to write!  Or maybe I just need a book.