Jury Duty!

     It's been a while since I've been summoned for jury duty, but when I was, I was released immediately. It wasn't my goal to be released; I didn't go into the courtroom expecting to be let go. It just sort of happened. I'll tell you why.  It was in Gainesville, Texas. I had literally moved to the city less than a month before, and I had gone downtown to get my Texas license and to surrender my Oklahoma driver's license. That was on a Thursday. By next week, maybe even as early as Tuesday, I have a summons to be on next week's jury.  That surprised me, but I didn't question it; I just showed up as expected.

    I pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse, parked my car, and went inside. It was cold. I remember having to wear a jacket over my sweatshirt. I even wondered if I was allowed to wear a sweatshirt, or if the juries in Texas needed to be better dressed. I told myself that I'd be told, and if I needed to go home to change I would. That didn't happen. I walked through the doors, told the clerk upfront I was reporting to jury duty, and when I took my jacket off, she laughed.

    Not thinking much of it, I followed her directions, walked into the jury waiting area, and sat down. I think I smiled at a few people who were smiling back at me as well.  When the judge came into the room, before he gave the attorneys their instructions, he talked to us, telling us what it meant to be summoned and that he appreciated all of us for showing up. They had sent out 88 cards and expected 88 people, but only about 45 actually showed. They only needed 12 jurors and a couple of alternates, so the judge assured us that most of us would be excused. That's when he pointed at me.

    "Can you please stand up?" he asked me. I could tell he was pointing at me, so I didn't do the whole "Are you talking to me?" thing; I just stood up, smiled, and said, "Yes, your Honor."  He smiled, and he asked me if I realized I was in the Lone Star State. I answered in the affirmative, and I told him I had just moved, and in fact, I had just received my official Texas driver's license. He smiled again before asking me if, in fact, I was now a Texan, why I would wear an Oklahoma Sooner sweatshirt into the room? It was at that moment that I fully understood all the silent whispers and quiet laughter going on around me.

    "Oh, this!" I said proudly. "I live in Texas, but I'm not a Texan," I told him. He smiled, laughed, rocked back in his chair, which by the way really was a rocking chair, and he said, "Well, you are the first to be excused."  When he said it, I didn't think he was being funny; I knew he meant it. I picked up my jacket and my purse, and I left the room smiling. As I left I heard someone call out "Boomer", to which the judge let out an abrupt laugh and added quickly, "and now we have the 2nd person to be excused from duty."  

    I'm not saying it's always going to work, but I didn't have to serve on the jury. Although I will admit that if I had been questioned, I would have probably said something like, "You may not want me on the jury, as I fully intend on taking good notes and creating a novel based solely on this case."  I can do that; it's my First Amendment right. They have the right to keep me or not, but I do have the right to state the truth about my future plans. I hadn't written any of my books at that time, but I would have said it anyway.

    I wouldn't mind being on a jury, but for the most part, the cases I think I would be asked to listen to wouldn't be all that exciting. They'd be something like tax evasion or someone running a stop sign, causing an accident. It may be a dog bite case; in which case, I would side with the dog 10 times out of 10 anyway. If it were anything harder than those examples, I would absolutely take good notes and write about the case in my next novel. I may create a new novel just to accommodate the case and to give it my utmost attention.

    I went home that day and Googled reasons a judge may excuse you from jury duty, and no, wearing a particularly unwelcomed sweatshirt wasn't one of them, but I suppose the judge can do what the judge can do. I was just rather fascinated that he had a rocking chair and such an open and honest sense of humor. He seemed like a really fair man. He didn't want anyone from Texas to be judged by anyone who wasn't a true Texan. I get that.  My daughter was called the next week, but she had not yet turned 18, so they excused her before she even went down to the courthouse. Her plan to stay on the jury was thwarted. I think she would have really enjoyed herself; maybe too much.

    Again, according to Google, less than 5% of the people who are summoned to jury duty actually end up serving. Where about 12% of the population between the ages of 18-70 are summoned at least once in their lifetime, not many stick. If you ask me, they shouldn't allow anyone on the jury who isn't educated at least through high school unless they have served in the military. I don't think anyone nursing a baby, or who has a chronic illness or anxiety, should serve, and I think there are certain provisions already in place for this. It may come to the point that we start serving remotely -- Zoom juries. Gosh darn, that could be scary, but not as scary as AI juries.

    If you think about it, a defendant is to be judged by a panel of 12 of his/her peers. (Really?) What is a peer to a murderer? Does that mean the defendant needs to live in the same neighborhood as the jury? Are the jurors to have murdering habits in order to fully relate? I don't think so. I think the system may need an overhaul - with jury tampering, jury science, and jury deficiencies, we may need to rethink who is selected and how they are selected, instead of randomly summoning people and asking questions that can eliminate them.

    We need boundaries, criteria, and qualifications. I don't want a high school dropout with pedophilia tendencies to be on my jury if I ever run a red light and cause an accident. On the other hand, I want someone who doesn't think $10,000 is a lot of money if I sue someone who hit me! Those people are my peers - people close to my age, people with my political affiliations, life experiences, religious beliefs, and community understanding.  Juries are full of people who are forced to be there, hate being there, and are pissed that they can't check their social media all day. Those are not my peers! Maybe someday it will be rectified. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

DNA Don't Lie (My Heritage DNA Kit)

        You know how you order something on Amazon, and then when it arrives later than you think it will, you often forget what you ordered? I do that all the time. It's like Christmas over and over again!  Well, that happened this week, but not as dramatically. I ordered a MyHeritage DNA kit for myself and for Laura. They were only $27, so why not? I did one in 2021, so about 5 years ago. My DNA hasn't changed, but they've gotten better at detecting all the people you may be related to, so I wanted to start fresh and see if it does, in fact, line up with the results I got in 2021.

     The one thing about My Heritage vs some of the others is that it goes back further, including my heritage from before Jesus! No, it's not that far back, but it seemed like it. I think they included the Vikings, making me primarily Scandinavian, and I had to do some study, research, and questioning to find out which of those Vikings came from the Scottish side of the Isles and which from the English side, or even the German side. It took a minute, and I paid a little extra. Still, it was finally estimated that from about 1100 A.D., our family tree(s) stemmed primarily from 48% Scots and 47% English, with literally 1-2% Italian. There was less than 1% of Iberian blood in there. (Rogue Viking) 

    Knowing what I know, I decided to do it again, to see if anything else pops up since they've been processing millions more people, and they may have more detailed information five years later.  One thing that MyHeritage sent me recently, after I put in my own name to research, was a little death notice of another Jude Stringfellow, and get this -- she was a woman!! A woman named Jude Stringfellow was born around 1643 and died in 1679 at age 36, likely from a stomach ailment. I wonder if it was her gallbladder. I had mine out in 2008, so I was 46. It just makes you wonder what people in those days went through that could have been cured today. It's a miracle any of us are living now. Those people, and those before them, went through so much more than we can ever imagine.

    My daughter Laura has never taken a DNA test. I told her I needed her to so I could prove I was her mother. After 36 years, I just want to know the truth. (😆) She looks like me, so there's that, but you just never know! Besides, I want her to see that she really does have Native blood running through her veins. It's not something she got from my side of the family, I can tell you that. I wish I could say it was me, but I don't have any. I live in the Native American capital of the world, and my grandfather was born in Oklahoma, but he was born to people who heard about the land run in 1889 and joined in on the fun of staking property. He was born in Indian Territory in November 1890, which doesn't count. He was just a white boy. 

    Laura's father's mother was, according to family rumor, more than or about 33% Native. I would love that for Laura. Depending on how much, if any, Native her paternal grandfather had, she could have 10-20% Native blood, which would be really cool. She's a paler sort of pasty white color, but it could happen! Her biological sister (my other daughter Caity) from the same parents is darker in color, showing more of her father's side when it comes to tanning and turning a pretty color of something other than burning red flesh. At least I gave her life and wiped her butt when she needed me to. I'm still living with her, but the arrangement is different. I depend on her more, to be honest - which is a great relief.

    We'll send the packages off tomorrow, and probably get our results back in about 10 days or so. They email them to you. I'll upload my results here. I'm not hiding anything. I told her I was going to dox her to the point of telling the world just how much, if any, Native blood she has. If it is true, she still wouldn't be allowed to register on the tribal rolls, but it's good to know she has more American blood than I do. She, too, like me, was born in Oklahoma City. That's funny, too, because I never really put too much thought into it, but my entire family was born somewhere other than Oklahoma City. I'm the only one who was born in the Sooner state other than my grandpa.

    My father was born in Frog Level, Arkansas. It was Sevier County, close to Horatio. His parents were born there, and so were his three brothers. My mother was born in Thrift, Texas, near Burkburnett, as was her mother and most of her siblings. My own siblings were born in Denver. My grandfather on my mom's side is the only one born in Oklahoma. He was born in Tishamingo. Since I'm now on the different family trees, I can find out where his parents were born, but I typically trace my father's side more often. I don't have to. I have two sides to my tree, just like anyone else. It's funny, though, most of my people from 2026 all the way back to about 1200 come from within 200 miles of each other, close to and crossing over the border between England and Scotland.  The Jude and John Stringfellow mentioned are not from my line.

    Our people, mom's and dad's side, didn't venture into London, or go further south than Yorkshire. Crazy. When you think about it. All those people came over this way, to the new world, and they came from virtually the same area, landed in almost the same location, migrated to virtually the same places, and then we all ended up here. If just one person in that entire string of people had chosen to marry or procreate with someone else, I wouldn't be here. It's one of those unexplained phenomena that you know was guided by God. There's no other way to see it -- not a chance.

    OK, so I'll send the package off tomorrow, and in about 7-10 days, I'll have the results. I'll let you know exactly what it says, and I will laugh my ever-loving head off if it comes back with a full 1% Iberian! I'll be like ...YEAH!!!  I doubt it, but it could happen. I have brown eyes, but they're not dark. They're more of a cinnamon color. Oh, to be exotic. 

Jude Stringfellow and her husband John are buried in Bunhill Field, on Chequer Alley. Now, it's near a very lively street in London, but at the time, it was a potentially large cemetery.  quite strange to see in the middle of a business section of the city. 

Photo Credit: MyHeritage.com (1st) and Google Maps for the gravesite photo.

"Cumberland" (Another Posh Thriller)

     Well, I didn't see that coming! I'm the author, and I didn't see it coming. That should be my first clue that I really don't know exactly how I'm going to write, and how I'm going to get this book out of my head and onto the computer. Here we go. I was planning, actually planning, to write the 21st book "Cumberland", which would have been my 14th novel, I think, I don't know, but it would have been my 6th Non-Posh novel, and now- well, it's going to be my 8th Nick Posh Thriller (novel). I didn't start out thinking it should be or could be, but then, when I really thought about it, I decided it would be. 

    Here's how I came up with that decision. You may or may not care, but I think I want to write it out for prosperity reasons anyway. I'm over here trying to force my head around all the details in the book. I'm watching videos, reading stories, thinking in and outside the proverbial boxes. I knew it would be a story about a murderer that got away - or people thought he got away. He was actually murdered (or eliminated, it depends on who you ask). He's a bad guy for sure and deserved much more than what he got.

    So, after thinking it over, and knowing there would be a cover-up that involved many minds and a concerted effort to keep his murder covered up from both the authorities and anyone outside of those who needed to know, I decided that Nick Posh would be the best to bring in to solve the matter. Others closer to the case seemed happy to let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak. Posh is an outsider to the mountains; he's not one of them. He finds clues to unearth, and he can't be paid or bribed to say he hasn't seen them. He's not going to play their game or keep their secrets. It doesn't work like that.

    I couldn't get my head around another detective taking up space in my head who wasn't Posh. I tried. I really did. I had a woman all picked out; I was building her character, too. I just didn't trust or like her that much. I didn't want to hang out with her during the off-hours when I wasn't writing. I found myself asking Posh what he would do so I could pass the intel onto the new detective I was calling Janice Crews. (She was born in 1972, so yeah, she's a Janice.)  I didn't not like her. I mean, she was nice enough, but I couldn't pour myself into her because she and I didn't click. It's as simple as that.

    The victim in the book, the one that got away, wasn't my type of buddy to hang with either. She was just that, a character, a means of intelligence, nothing more. I had nothing in common with her, really. She kept the secrets, and she protected those she could, but she was so young when it happened to her, and she was just trying to get on with her life and not be reminded of the tragedy she had lived through. Since I couldn't mold the main characters the way I think I needed or wanted to, I closed my eyes, leaned back in my chair at the computer desk, and asked Nick if he'd been paying attention. He had.

    He accepted the challenge, and he'll not only find the killer(s) but also bring them to justice. How do I know he won't be killed in the process? Spoiler alert, I have about 10 more Posh books to write. He'll cut it close in this one for sure, and it may seem as if he's about to go up to see Jesus, but he'll pull through. He'll pull through if for no other reason, but to thank his grandfather for telling him countless stories about the naked, painted, crazy Highlanders who survived warfare and so much more all those centuries ago up in the densely thick forests of the Isle of Lewis and Harris.  If anyone could save him, they could. Memories are being made.

    So yeah, there we go - I'm able to actually get on with it now. It was hard to get motivated before, but now, with Nick and the gang back together, I'm about to lace up my boots and hike into the deepest darkest woodlands of the Appalachian Mountains to find a dead body rotting away in an old coke oven. The really cool thing is, I didn't know what a coke oven was until I started prepping for this book! All that learning and all that intel will now be put to use, and I'll enjoy writing it since my good friends are coming out of my skull and through my fingertips to say all they want to say! 

    Yep, I think maybe I'm just going to focus on writing more Posh books for now. He's got a few more things to share with me, and I've got a few more adventures for him. He smiled when I asked him if he'd ever had moonshine. I don't know yet if he has or if it's something he's always wanted to try. We'll find out together. I'm going to spend tomorrow drawing out more details as to who it will be who joins him in the thick of it -- I may introduce a new character; maybe bring ol' Crit out to help if he's got a mind for a bit of backwoods adventure. I bet he'll like that -- his Native traits can undoubtedly come in handy up in the hills.

    I'll keep the design I have for the book, but I'll have to rewrite the back blurb and add "A Nick Posh Thriller" to the front. I'm tellin' ya! You just never know what can happen in the crevices of my mind. I'm not saying it's a scary place to be, but I don't usually go there alone. I take at least one or two of my standbys with me. If my dog Rover isn't by my side, my angel Sam is. I could not trust myself to play in that vast mindscape without assistance. (But it may be interesting to try) 

Photo Credit: Me.

My Social Media Presence.

     I'm just now going over my personal social media history to see what the cops and/or detectives would find if I were to either suddenly be murdered or if I were, in fact, accused of the same crime. I'm looking because just a few minutes ago, while watching another (yet another) episode of "Killer in my Village", a popular UK video series, I watched as the detectives in that show used the killer's social media history to prove his guilt. Yes, that would certainly do it for me. Let's see, the cops would open up my Google history...and wow. First thing: "How long does it take for anti-diarrhea meds to kick in?" That's a good start.

    The subsequent damning inquiry: "Who killed Claire in Colston Bassett?" Answer? Oh, of course, an ex-partner. She went online to date, and there you have it. After divorcing and deciding to get back into the swing, she met up with a man almost half her age, thinking things could be fun -- he killed her. Next up? "Why do Dachshunds burrow under the covers but sleep on the top of the back of the couch?" That's gotta be damning; at least curious. Fourth, fifth, sixth, and ninth entries were so much more interesting. "What poison isn't detectable?" "How deep should I bury a metal object if I don't want it detected?" "Does everyone's Ring camera go to their phones?" and lastly, "How many murders have gone unsolved in Oklahoma?" Yes, so much more telling.

    The tenth entry, bless my own heart, was something very near and dear to my soul, but it had nothing to do with murder -- "Is the OU football season over at this point?" The answer is yes. Yes, it is, because Alabama decided to show up and turn on its best game. We, on the other hand, did not. But enough about the sorrows of sports and back on track -- am I murdering someone, or am I the victim? It's plain; plain as day. The Dachshund did it -- and right after he did, he needed something to help him with his diarrhea. He's a clever dog, that one. His typing could use a bit of work, but he did manage to do me in before taking over my computer, apparently.

    If you were a detective in this town, you'd know straight off that I don't own a Dachshund. I must be the killer! Well, in a way, I suppose I am. I murder a lot of people, and sometimes I murder people I had no intention of murdering, but their demise fits in with the structure and soundness of the plot of whatever book I'm writing. To really get a glimpse of who I am and how I think, you'd need to read my texts to my best friend Jeannie — God help her, I hope she never has to surrender her phone to anyone with legal authority. She'd have to explain  me.

    Because I'm a writer, and a macabre one at that, I do have to search things online. I watch videos to get ideas, too, and that being said, no one has the right to steal my Dachshund thing, OK? Yeah, you leave that right where it is. I'm still developing it for another book. I haven't decided. What I have decided to do is to preface my books with yet another disclaimer that reads, "You'll laugh at times, but try not to laugh too hard. I may not have tried to be funny, and that would be just a little too embarrassing."  What I think in my head may or may not be what others think, see, experience, hear, or understand. I can't explain me - I just am...you know, me.

    Right now, I'm thinking I may change the entire premise of the book "Cumberland" and make it about an author who is writing a daring and ruthless murder mystery, but she's stuck at times, and has to pretend and go through the fake motions to give her mind a reason to kick into the right gear. She sees things that aren't there, and naturally, she thinks it's natural. She's out there trying to connect to her inner, darker, murderous side, but she needs baking soda, orange juice, pistachios, and cat food before the stores close for Christmas.

    I don't know what angle I'll choose. It could be an unfortunate and mournful novel, or it could take on a rather dark but humourous edge to it -- did you see where I used an extra "u" in "humourous"?  What in the world is going on in my brain? This isn't a British book -- or is it? I am watching "Killer in my Village", so yeah, that whole language adjustment could have just slipped into my skull just now. What I do know is that if I am ever questioned by a judge, a police officer, a defense attorney, or the prosecutor, I may have to smile and let them know that I have a few books written now; I can prove my madness. I'm not sick in the head, just an interesting author.

    I don't drink alcohol. I don't smoke tobacco or anything else. I used to smoke rolled-up Earl Grey tea because I could, and it made people look at me in wonderment. (That was before pot was legal) I don't sleep around; in fact, I sleep on about 17" of my bed, no matter what size bed it is, because the other portions of my bed have been taken over by canine and an occasional cat. I don't date. I chose a long time ago not to do it, and thank God nearly weekly for that choice. When I watch these videos and am reminded that the partners, spouses, and ex-spouses and partners are usually the ones who end the victim, it means I made the right choice.

    Still, and I mean this, if anyone read through my social media history, they'd have to raise their eyebrow(s) at least a bit. If they, on the other hand, read my blogs, or trudged through the endless boring images I post on Facebook and Instagram, they'd wonder if I had any sort of personality at all outside of loving my fur-faces. I smile when I think about that. I smile because, yeah, I do have quite an extraordinary imagination, and I always have had. It's been my constant companion for over six decades now. I know that no matter where I am, or what is happening, I am never alone. I don't get bored. How could I with all these voices in my head? (See, that sounded odd, didn't it?)

Photo Credit: Etsy.com

After Christmas - Comparison.

     In Oklahoma City, the city I recently moved from, I have spent a significant number of Christmases. I was born in Oklahoma City, spent nearly every Christmas there, and even when I went off to Hollywood to work and play, I would come back for Christmas. When I traveled anywhere, I came back home for Christmas. Then, when we moved to Indianapolis, I think I had four Christmases there - I don't remember. This year, 2025, was my first Christmas in El Reno, Oklahoma, and I loved it.  No hassle, no baking, no fuss, no guests, no nothing. I listened to several of my co-workers complain that they couldn't wait for Christmas to be over. They were forced to see their in-laws. They spent too much on presents, and had to work extra hard to make up for it -- that's not Christmas.

   Laura and I didn't wake up early. She was up earlier than I was, and we had a very relaxing sort of day. No one was coming over, and we weren't going anywhere, so we both just put on our pajamas and sat around the house. She played games online, conversed with her friends from all over the world, and I watched murder videos -- you know, Christmas murder videos. Yes, they do have them. They aren't instructional-type videos, mind you; they are, in fact, 48 Hours, Dateline, and those types of videos about murders that took place around this time of year. I'm not a monster!

    We didn't open presents, but Laura did (earlier) put her present together. I bought her a pink L-shaped desk for her office. Not only because she needed one, but also so I could have my side table and two end tables back; she was using them for her desk setup. She's good now, and she's adorable behind her pink desk with at least two cats under her feet or on the side desk area - watching her type. The third cat can't be bothered.  

    I knew candy and sugar cookies would go on sale after Christmas, so I waited for that, but I did buy one or two trinkets for the stockings. We didn't even touch them, but I bought more on sale today (2 days after Christmas), and yes, I thought about buying more pajamas, which were also half price, but I really don't need another set. I have enough. I'm good. It's hard for me to pass them and not buy them - that much I will admit. I could be addicted.

    This Christmas season, the entire season, we didn't see anyone stealing packages off anyone's porch. We didn't see crackheads walking around the front of our house. We didn't hear sirens, car alarms, people screaming, or that very odd and unsettling feeling when you hear someone in your carport, but you can't open the door because it could be worse if you did. Nope, nothing like that. We heard birds. We listened, and we heard the birds outside in the massive pecan trees outside our front door. We heard the dogs barking, without the neighbor calling the cops. We heard the horse making those cute horse noises, and we heard the sound of the tea kettle boiling.

    Today, a couple of days after Christmas, because Laura couldn't be bothered to go yesterday, we went to the UPS store to return our old Cox box (modem). We met two beautiful women who were interested in Laura's dog, Rose, because no one cares if you bring your dog into stores in El Reno. No one cares. Everyone likes it, and you don't have to feel put out having to explain anything. It's a dog! She's behaved and on her leash, and all she wants is for others to love her and give her treats if they have them.

    We went to Walmart, and yes, I got those half-off cookies. It's becoming a tradition at this point. Queen Anne's dark chocolate-covered cherries were $1.95; I did that too. I walked the place and just thought WOW...this is not crowded. I can look down every aisle, and maybe someone will be there, but most likely not (except on the food side). I wasn't rushed, I wasn't pushed, I didn't smell anything weird, and most of all, it was just so relaxing -- I got my steps in, and I smiled. Laura isn't anxious in the stores anymore, and she even liked the strong scents in the combined UPS Store/Pharmacy that will now be my go-to. I love it. It's cute, and the ladies are so nice.

    We went to Burger King -- something we didn't do in OKC. It was either crowded or too crowded. Those were your choices. We pulled in, and NO ONE was there - it was 11:35 a.m., and we were the ONLY customers! That was awesome. They tried to give me sweet tea, and that had to be rectified, but other than that, we had an amazing time in the drive-through. Next, because it's only a block away, we went to Tractor Supply, where no, we did not get our horse feed for 1/2 off, but the Peppermint Bark was!  If you've not gone to your local TSC, you need to do that -- we would live in ours if they'd let us. It's big, open, stocked, friendly, and I don't know anywhere else you can get pecan log rolls; maybe that's not the best reason to live somewhere, but it could be one.

    My point is, we drove to these places, and there was no traffic. We went inside these places, and there were people, but not very many. We smile, they smile, everyone is happy. It can't be a coincidence. We know something they don't know in the bigger cities. We know that getting as far away from the stressers, the pushers, the pimps, the filth, and all the rest of the noisy nonsense is life-changing. I should have moved here years (and years) ago. I genuinely wish I had. I can breathe, I can dance, I can go outside and pretend I'm a princess if I want to. The only ones to criticize me would bark or neigh -- I love it.

    I'm considering forcing Laura out to the front yard to help me rake up the thousands of pecans that are lying around the place. We can donate them. We don't have to keep them, but they do need to be picked up -- maybe. I don't know, maybe not. Maybe, since the trees are verified to be more than 80 years old, there is a long history of the fruits of these particular trees being returned to the ground -- I have no idea. I just think it would be a good thing to do; you tell me.  I could eat them. I'm not above that. I will crack open a nut and enjoy it. You know why? Because I can.  I couldn't do that anywhere else I have ever lived.

Photo Credit: Walmart.com

Merry Christmas - Good Bye, 2025!

     This year, I received no less than three of those "catching you up on our lives" letters from friends. Each came with a 5x7 photo or photo arrangement of their family, which usually included their animals as well. I love it. I couldn't for the life of me try to sum up all that has happened to me in a year through the medium of a single-paged letter. Nope. I have a blog! I use this forum to keep you and everyone else updated on what is actually going on in my life, in Laura's life, and in the lives of those around us. 

    I'd love to be able to add my other kids into the blogs; to tell you what all is happening in their lives, but I'm not necessarily privy to it - and if I were, they may or may not wish that their intimate or private lives be shared. Laura's cautiously aware that I share her finer details, but I do hold back things that could or would embarrass her too badly. (I promise) I will continue to share the most important or most impactful things that happen to us throughout the year, month, week, day, whenever I sit down to carve out a tale or two.

    Today, it's Christmas! Christmas 2025: the hottest Christmas Oklahoma has ever experienced. We'll reach a whopping 79 degrees (F) today, which will blast our record of 76 degrees. I'm not a fan. Hawaiian Christmases or Floridian Christmases are not the way to go for the Sooner State. Nope, I'm not into Northern snow either, but a good stiff breeze and some lower temps would be relished! I could wear my ugly sweater and feel as if I made the right fashion choice to impress the dogs. I'm in a set of jammies that, yes, do have Christmas dogs on them, but they are not the same. It was my hope to wear a searingly ugly waffle sweatshirt with little guitars floating around all decked out in Christmas tree lights and doing their thing -- not happening. 

    I didn't buy presents this year for anyone other than my mom and Reuben's younger babies. I would love to have sent money to everyone else, but having to save for the purchase of the house and everything that goes with it, there just isn't a lot of extra cash to go around.  I did buy Laura's horse a blanket, I will admit that, but it's because I don't have a good shelter for it, and I can't be that person who doesn't care for their animals. I mean, we do have the shelter, but it's so dilapidated, and if she did go into it, I fear she could be injured. Laura may have found a way to shore it up for the winter. It will come down in the spring for sure.

    I can't start from January and go through the year to tell you all the highlights because I seriously don't remember them. The best way I can remember times of the year is separated by the dates I wrote the books. Let's see, I was writing "Stratford" in January, then on to "Dion" in March, "Cask" by June, and finished up "Amicus Curiae" in September. I didn't write another one, but I wanted to. I did put out "Jude's Almost Daily Blog Book 4" in May, I think, but that was only a two-week project; one I will repeat this coming May for Book 5.

    We moved to our little house in OKC the year before, having lived in our apartment for more than 9 years. Crazy when you think about it. This year, in November, we moved to our new house, and it's the first time since 2011 that I've had an overhead heater in the bathroom! That's an odd thing to bring up, but it's true. We also have a washer and dryer in the garage, which makes us giddy -- we're simple people. We have a larger living room now, which will accommodate Laura's exercise pole soon.  Most families don't add that to their update letters!

    I'm still very much working for the same company I have been with for about 20 months. I have made Employee of the Month twice, and it would thrill me to make Employee of the Year. I'm told I'm in the running! Big time smile, right there. To be working alongside the wonderful friends and people that I am working with can't be measured - it's a true joy, and I am so very grateful. I earn well, I work hard, and it's just such an awesome feeling to wake up and not dread going to work.

    Speaking of work - I work remotely, and have for over two years. I won't go back into an office. I just can't. I don't have any clothes now that could be considered office-worthy. I don't wear shoes 98% of the time, and don't ever want to. I do put them on to walk the pasture or go to the store. I have gained weight this past year, and that stops now. I'll keep you posted on that as well. I wasn't able to work out for over a year with chronic pain in my hip that has mostly subsided. I guess I can tell you about it; it happened this year.

    I moved in July 2024 and hurt myself, but didn't realize it for a month or two. I was limping and unable to move for quite a long time, other than just moving from one room to the other, without being in terrible pain from the injury. The doctors said to rest and stay off of it - right, it's a hip!  Well, I gave up drinking coffee (caffeine) and began drinking mushroom coffee for a while, and get this, my hip pain subsided to the point that I can walk, exercise, and drive longer than a few minutes. It really did change my life and lifestyle. I went through four or five brands of mushroom coffee and have settled on Yege. It has the same exact combination as Ryze, but at less than 1/2 the cost.

    What else? Well, the house. We began looking in June, thinking we wanted to live in El Reno, but believed it would take a year to bring my credit up to the point that it needed to be. I hadn't been on my job long enough, and with working remotely, though not self-employed, I had to be on the job for two years (I thought), so I figured March 2026 would be the start date -- I was gleefully wrong!  I found a great lender who is working with me, and he's convinced his people to let me be in the house for six months while we save for the down payment. I am going through FHA, so there are rules, but we're under contract now. We are technically leasing, but they can't pull out of the deal -- and I won't!

    It was much more expensive than I expected, but God has provided. He always does. It meant I couldn't play around with my extra money, and I couldn't give it away as much as I did, but I'm OK with that as well. I can give it to myself, my daughter, and our dreams. Laura doesn't want to move out on her own, and to be honest with you, I love her company. She's a great roommate, a good friend, and a great daughter. Again, God has been so very gracious to us both in that way.  She's finally out of her slump, the one she fell into years ago when she had to give up her horse. She's "back in the saddle" proveriably, and soon will be physically.

    When Laura rescued Lady Sif, her Arabian-Morgan cross mare, she began to heal. To see her transformation has been glorious, and it's been daily, right before my eyes. I am very blessed for this, and I know she is. She's incorporating and starting a rescue of her own. We are now the Double-S Equine Ranch and will be up and running in 2026. She'll work it, and she has a regular job as well. She's working, she's happy, she's smiling, and get this -- she's driving again. That hasn't happened in years! The best things come to those who wait upon their Lord -- I am convinced.

    With that, I'll bid you farewell, as the days have passed when I took a break from writing. I am to start the new book today - just the notes, but I'm starting! The new book is titled "Cumberland" and is a scary sort of sad and ugly look into the life of a victim of violence; her survival, her struggle, and the choices she's had to live with are the crux of the storyline. It's not an easy book, and it won't be easy to write or read, but it's on my heart, and I'm writing it. I can't fully relate to it, but I know others can or may. It's a diversion from the Nick Posh novels - and I think I'll be satisfied with it when I finish. 

    Merry Christmas!! Happy Birthday, Jesus, and may your 2026 be fun, festive, lively, and full of joy! I hope ours is as well. Stay safe and know you are prayed over. 

Photo credit: Koenig's Eye View

Walking the Land. (First Time)

    Today, well, just about 30 minutes ago, I decided to walk the entirety of the land that we're buying. It had always been too cold, too wet, or something. I wasn't able to walk it when we were just looking at the property. I was warned there were holes, and the owners and their realtor didn't want me to walk the entire thing. I could look at photos. I just couldn't take any of my own. There are a couple of areas I could drive to if I really wanted to, so I could peek over the fencing from the side of the others who own land on either side, but I trusted the surveys to tell me what the land looked like and where our boundaries are.

    The really funny (I say funny, but it was actually incredibly sad) thing was that the owners who are selling the place to us didn't know they owned 14 acres. They were told it was seven acres when they bought it. Someone was pulling the wool over someone's eyes; that's for sure. We got to the bottom of it. Our realtor put in for a survey, and through the original titles and abstracts, it was determined that we were making our offer on the land around the house, and about 12.8 more acres, not seven. (The area around the house is about 1.35 acres.)

    My daughter Laura took me on a tour. She's been around it a number of times. She's the one paying for any and all fencing. I just bought the place. I'm going to let her pay half starting in February; she's finally able to get work again. This is huge, and we're all very thankful. She's been without a regular job for nearly two years - no fault of her own. It's been unreal. Well, today, she took me on a grand tour; the weather cooperated. We walked the entire 14 acres, and I put in well over 2800 steps in doing so. I figure I can have a big honkin' tractor come in and grade down a path for me that lines the entire place, and I can just walk my own property four times a day! Done!

    We walked it, and we found many, many little deep holes in the ground.  Of course, we were careful not to step in them or around them, not wanting them to cave in and cause one of us (me) to trip.  When I got back to the computer, I looked it up, and we either have a mess of Oklahoma Brown Tarantulas living in our fine pasture, or it is more likely to be moles, voles, or pocket gophers with the occasional Cicada Killer Wasp. (Don't tell me that.) I'm really hoping it's just moles.  When I was a kid, our German Shepherd Lady Wayne put an end to one on Groundhog Day...he didn't have a chance to see his shadow.

    So, walking the land felt good. It took a while, too. We were literally out walking for more than twenty-five minutes, and we were walking at a good pace, one that would allow us to watch our feet and to keep an eye out for anything that may come out of one of those holes. The fence needs repairing, and mostly it needs replacing. That's going to be a big and long, drawn-out project for Laura. I'm going to sip my tea, write books, and pretend to catch fictional killers. I'm not about to pull lines taunt or put gloves on my hands to help her keep the lines straight. Nope, that outside area belongs to the kid. I prefer my office and the kitchen.

     When we lived in Lebanon, Indiana, for all of two or three months in 2011, we had 25 acres of land, but we also had an awful home that would never pass inspection. We had to let it go. We found out later (2021) that it was finally demolished, as was the big barn, and someone is now using the patch of grass to grow rich alfalfa hay. There was a block of four or five acres in the back that grew there when we were living there. All the hopes we had simply didn't pan out. It happens. That's why this time, we're excited to have a good home. We do have a bad barn that will need to be demolished, and that will happen. We also have a lot of hay grass on the property. Maybe Laura can find someone to mow it, and take 1/2 for themselves, leaving 1/2 for us. We'll see.

    One of the best things about this place is the potential it has. In the days, weeks, months, and years to come, it will brighten, shine, and become so pretty. Laura is looking forward to every new act that transforms the place into the horse rescue she has always wanted. This is her dream, and by her getting her wish, I have obtained one of mine.  Moms are like that, aren't they? God is good. God is always good. In so many ways, we thank Him.  Laura has named the place the Double S Equine Ranch. She'll incorporate soon and start the process to become a 501(c)3 non-profit. She's in it for the long haul. 

Photo Credit: Laura Stringfellow 

Writing Again!!

     Here it is, December 21, and I'm about to start writing again. I'm holding off until Christmas to be official.  Laura wanted me to take a break from writing, and she gave me a date when she felt it would be both beneficial and relaxing for me. She told me sometime around mid-October that she wanted me to stop writing until after Christmas. I think writing on Christmas night should work. I think that's fair. I think that's adhering to the general essence of her well-wishing.  I have four days to wait.

    What will I begin writing? Oh, that's an easy one. I'm writing my 6th novel that isn't a Nick Posh book.  I was sitting on the couch earlier, with the dogs, all of the dogs, because they like sitting with me when I write in my journal. I was sitting there, writing in my journal, when I couldn't remember exactly how many books I have actually written. I know I told everyone I had written 20 books, but then I started thinking about it. Was it actually 20, or was I just spitballin'? Well, it's 20. I counted.

    So, my new book "Cumberland" will be my 21st book. It's my 13th novel, and as mentioned, my 6th novel that isn't a Nick Posh book.  "Cumberland", like "Dion", is a little creepy at times. It's darker from the beginning and remains so throughout the entire book. It doesn't have a happy ending. It's a book with hollow and scarred characters. Life isn't always happy, and not everyone experiences the joy that others do. I will try to make it entertaining, of course, but it will also have deeper and often sinister moments, where even the hero has to get a little dirty to do the right thing.

    The fact that I haven't written in several weeks won't be a problem for me in terms of getting right back into it. I could have written another book between the last one and this one; I know that. It's just that I wanted to rest, get my head straight on the depth of each new character, and it gave me time to watch videos about the area of the country where this book takes place. I want it to be authentic without being real. It is a fiction piece; not to be considered to be true or even based on any specific true event that took place in the early 1970s in the hills of northwestern North Carolina. 

    I try to write from the perspective of a narrator most of the time, a bystander looking at what's taking place. I don't pretend to be the bringer of good tidings or the bearer of bad news; I just write and let the characters take me where they take me. I do use AI for that, but if AI writes something I don't like or disagree with, I won't keep it in the book. If it writes something I like or agree with, I'll keep it, but rewrite it so I'm not using their words. It's funny because to date, it's not considered plagiarism if you use the words that the AI spits out at you -- even if you use them verbatim. (But I still don't do it, I just can't. It's not in my soul to do it.)

    "Cumberland" will be finished around the end of January or the first of February, and then tweaked and up for publication before March. The next book will be the 8th in the Nick Posh series. It's titled "Shadow" and will be really deep and involved. I have to do a lot more research about a certain group of people before heading off into Neverland with that one. I do want it to reflect many true events, but not give anyone or any one thing credence. It needs to remain a fiction piece without those who could be guilty coming after me. It does take place in 1934, so I should be good.

    OK, so that's about it. I'm prepping to write. I'm watching videos to get ideas. I'm writing notes in the little books I keep. Each new book I write has a little notebook that I scratch ideas into. Most of the books have to share a notebook, but "Shadow" does have its own. I have a lot of small details that must be examined. I needed a full notebook for it. I'll spend two or three days just typing up the notes for that book. I write them first, then type them, and use the typed ones to review and check off as I write the actual book.  After I write the book, I go back over the typed notes to be sure I included what I wanted to include. It's part of the fluffing and stuffing process.

    Good times! I love writing. Just like I know where Laura is if I can't hear or see her in her office or the living room, she knows where I am when I write. Laura, in case you were wondering, can be found out in the pasture with the horse(s). She's a creature of habit for sure, as am I. The desk and office chair in my office know me well enough to know I'm never going to leave them for a horse. It won't happen, I promise. I do get up to grab a bite to eat, but they forgive me for that.

Photo Credit: Me (my home office) 

The Iron Tree

     One of the best places to visit when you go to a little town is their quaint, often very personally decorated, coffee shops. El Reno, Oklahoma, has one; it's called the Iron Tree, and it is so very wonderful. The building was probably one of the first built in the city, between 1889 and 1907, when Oklahoma became a state. It's not known exactly who all of the owners or tenants may have been. It is certainly worth visiting now! If you haven't done so, put El Reno, Oklahoma, on your list of places to visit when taking your next Route 66 exursion. The hot coffee and warm atmosphere of the Iron Tree will win you over!

    Inside the place, there's a little nook where people donate books for others to take home with them. You bring a book, you take a book. It's one of those places.  On several occasions now, I have taken it upon myself to donate 6-12 books at a time that I've personally written. I'll leave them there, and by the time I've walked around the city streets talking to my neighbors, checking out all the really cool values I can find, I can go back into the Iron Tree to get a coffee to go, and all of my books will have found new homes.

    Today, again, just for fun, I took 6 copies of "Of Kilted Pleasure" and one copy of "Amicus Curiae" into the Iron Tree to give away. When I pulled up outside the place, there were several professional-looking bikes lined up against the wall. Inside the place was a half dozen hobbiests who were enjoying a rest from their annual Christmas on 66 bike expedition. I don't think it's just people from Oklahoma City; I think it's pretty well organized. The folks inside today were from Oklahoma City, about 15 miles away. The Iron Tree was their stop off, and when they finished their drinks and had scarfed down some delicious pastries, they set off again to go home. Don't ask me to ride 30 miles a day on a bike! (I was so impressed!) 

    None of the riders could take a book, as they didn't have a place to put them while riding, but a lovely couple was coming into the store just as I was leaving. I coaxed them into looking at the books, and the woman (her name is Claire) was over the top thrilled to take "Amicus Curiae" with her; she's a big murder buff -- or you know, a fan of reading about murder...in books. I don't think Claire actually enjoys murder. Her partner was just as happy to take one of the copies of "Of Kilted Pleasure," and both of them were sweet enough to give me a good hug and a "Merry Christmas" as well. I love this place. 

    Having a place like the Iron Tree to hang out, give away books, talk to friends, and just chill is so amazing. I'll do it more soon. I think I may make it a weekly thing if I can. I don't mind getting the books out there - who knows, it may be the way to get people talking. If the people who come in aren't always from El Reno, the books could go anywhere and everywhere, and if I can get folks to review them -- well, you just never know. I would love, love, love to have readings and talks where we discuss the books, the characters, and the upcoming sequels. It would make me so very happy. 

    So you know, just in case you're thinking of coming to El Reno, and you find the Iron Tree on Woodson, keep in mind that if you drive down Bickford to get there, it's a one-way street. Don't be like me...yes, the very first day I lived in El Reno, I drove down the street the wrong way. It's a miracle I wasn't stopped by the cops. It's 2025, I'm more than sure there were cameras, and if there are, they had a good laugh! I did it again on 27th Street by Walmart. I pulled into the left side thinking it was 27th, but it wasn't the right lane to pull into -- I was a dork.

    The Iron Tree has great food. It has great coffee. They serve alcoholic drinks there, too! They have live music, and they don't charge anyone anything to come in and listen. You never know what to expect. Some crazy author can poke her head into the place and pass out books - Willie Nillie! You just don't know what to expect, but you can always expect great service, great drinks, and hot, hot coffee!! (Irish and otherwise) They aren't on Main Street, but they are right across the street from Mid First Bank, so you can find parking at the bank if all the parking spots on the street are taken. I don't know that I've ever seen all the spots taken, but I imagine it happens.

    Google the place.  Find them on Facebook!  They have a 4.8 rating on Yelp, and I'll see if I can go in and make it 4.9 with a review. I had an amazing chai latte today, only because a woman ordered it and then realized she'd left her wallet in her other purse. I offered to buy it, but she wouldn't let me. The barista had already made it - I bought it for myself. It was great. I'm not really a chai-latte kinda gal, but I may get it again soon. It was really good. My favorite is their peppermint mocha coffee; they beat Starbucks hands down. I think it was $4.75, I'm not sure. Worth it.

Photo Credit: Jude Rushing (another Jude!) 

Christmas is Coming!

     We're just five days away from Christmas, and the vibe here in El Reno, Oklahoma, is better than it was in Oklahoma City, in that I am not hurried, and nothing feels as if it is too pressured. If I want to put up a tree, I will, and I did. If I want to go see lights, I might. There's a place to do that. But for me, and for a great number of people, Christmas isn't about presents, and it's not about lights or shiny things. It's about remembering the days that led up to the birth of Christ; something far more important than running around buying gifts and making sure they're wrapped just right with the right colors of paper and the invisible tape so no one can see the seams. (People actually do that.)

    So, here, at the Stringfellow homestead, Laura and I have set up the tree together. I put it up about 10 days before Christmas, to give the cats a few days to acclimate to it. I don't put lights on it, and I don't put the bulbs on it, not until it's been seen, sniffed, and thoroughly examined and finally ignored by every cat in the house. This year, we have three cats to consider: Bilbo, Frodo, and Pippin (are you sensing a theme?). If the cats can't be bothered, we decorate.

    Laura pulled out the long strand of lights, and before she plugged them in, she wrapped the tree with them. When they didn't light up, I saw her face! It was hilarious. Yep, that's why you plug them in first. So, Amazon it was! I ordered them around 6:00 p.m., and just before 7:00 a.m. the next morning, we had lights. There were 200 little multi-colored lights on sale for something like $7, so yeah, that's the way to go. She plugged them in, they worked, she strung them, and I set off with the ribbon, the garland, and all the cute little unbreakable bulbs and hangy-things. Jeannie gave me a couple, too, little Charlie Brown characters! They're up there inside that cheap little wonderful tree.

    I think I bought the tree last year for around $30 in the summer, thinking to myself that buying a tree in August made sense. It did! We put it up, it looked rather sparse to be honest, with lots of "holes" or space that needed to be filled with garland, bulbs, lights, ribbons, and I even put my Christmas cards in the tree -- and a few toys; just for fun. I typically, well sometimes, put candy canes in the tree as well - but I haven't done that this year. There's still time. I could run to Dollar General and pick up a box.

    Because there are a few things that can't go without doing, I ran to Dollar General and to Family Dollar to find the worst chocolate ever made: Queen Anne's cordial cherries. You know you love them, but the chocolate is nothing to be desired. We do it because it's what you do. If anyone actually got around to making cordials that tasted better than Queen Anne's, I wouldn't know it - I should find out. I eat a box every year, but I don't complain that they don't rank among the best-made chocolates. I smile and remember all the times I ate them as a kid.

    I like ribbon candies, hard candies that you can't buy any other time of the year. I like peppermint bark, rainbow candy canes, and anything made by Reeses that is shaped like anything that is supposed to be festive.  I bought a bunch of garland for the tree, and super cheap, cute ornaments that I thought I simply had to have. I have them now. I don't have to do the same thing next year, but I bet I do anyway. I think I will. I think that after a few years, the tree will finally be full and I'll say, "OK, that looks good."

    I thought I'd get around to hanging lights around the windows, but no, I didn't do that. I thought I would search the garage, where all of our stuff was put when we moved, to see if I could find the plaid tree skirt. I didn't find it. I threw a throw blanket around the bottom of it and called it done. It's pretty. The dogs like it. I will have to drive back to one of the stores and get a set of reindeer ears to put on the dogs, maybe an elf hat, or something silly -- that's another tradition you have to keep going if you have dogs. (Cats never really cooperate when I try to force the issue.)

    This is the first of many Christmases in our new home. It should be special, and it will be. We can't have a fire in the fireplace until we have it checked and certified, but we can decorate the mantle. We'll buy the moving reindeer next year, and maybe hire someone to do the lights outside. Laura may volunteer to do it too; you just never know. I'm not going to crawl up onto a ladder and stretch over things to put them up. I see online they have new types of fast, easy, fun, safe lights you can put up with light adhesive -- that makes me happy. 

    We have hot cocoa! We have the dogs, the cats, the smiles, the hopes, and the promise that this season, and every Christmas season, is possible only because Jesus came down from His throne in Heaven to humble Himself to the point of being born of a woman, in the lowest of places, and because He determined that we were worthy to save - we are saved. Glory to God in the Highest! Merry Christmas to every last soul on the Earth. Our King is alive, and He will return.

    Merry Christmas from our home to yours.

Photo Credit: Me. (I bought 4 bags)