Forex and My Future

 It goes without saying that I am in LOVE with trading on the Forex (Foreign Exchange) I am still working on my free demo account through Trading View and Oanda as a platform.  It's really wonderful because I don't need to worry about losing actual money. I'm learning the skills I would be doing if I were a pilot using a simulator. You can crash as many times as you wish, and nothing really happens. They just set the game over again, and you mark it down as a lesson learned.  I've not yet had to have them reset my account because I'm really overly cautious even with fake money. There was a time I wouldn't even hit the go button on the free account because I didn't want to lose fake money. I'm getting better at it now. I bite the bullet every time still, and I do think about what would have, could have, should have happened, but I'm learning and there is NOTHING better in life than learning.

    Many many people trade on the Forex, and because of that fact, there is an enormous amount of money that runs through that market on a daily basis. Literally, every 24 hours (except on Saturdays) more than $6T (with a T) goes through and is dispersed one way or the other!  Six TRILLION every day! I can't even imagine that. The other day someone in Illinois won the Mega Millions for just over $1.2B (with a B) and though I really don't believe they actually won it, I am a conspiracy theorist, thinking it is all a scam, I still can't wrap my mind around a single person winning a huge amount of money because they paid for a random cheap ticket!  I know, there are folks out there spending $$$ hoping against hope to win, but dang! I wouldn't even know what to do with it. I think I'd have to hire a team of financial advisors, traders, and foundation creators so I could distribute the money correctly.  Of course, I could also just ask my 3rd born child! She would seemingly have no issues spending $1.2B - her way.

    For those who think trading the stocks and/or on the Forex is like gambling, I will say that I suppose it could be if you didn't have a strategy, a bonafide way of tracking and backtracking, a risk management plan, and they don't typically have a trading philosophy.  Most (and by that, I do mean MOST) traders who just start out with an account (either demo or real) don't do their due diligence and they end up belly-up within a few weeks or sooner.  The secret(s) are to be emotionless, to go through the steps you've agreed to go through in your plan and to work it rather than to hope it.  If you work it, and you stick to it, (providing it's a good plan, to begin with) you're likely to come out on top more than 60% of the time. 

    Where being successful 60% of the time doesn't sound great, knowing you'll be losing 40% of the time, the other thing to know is when to stop trading and when to leave a deal. It is JUST as if not more important to know when a trade is bad and to have an exit strategy.  For me, I use Stop Loss like it's my guardian angel, my guard dog, as well as my best friend. That Stop Loss and I are connected! We talk on an hourly basis. I am well aware of the power it holds and it is well aware of my inability to read the market at this time.

    Stop Loss is the tool traders use to set a limit on a trade. Say I'm going to risk 1% of my account on a trade. I can go higher if I want to, but like I said, I am so super conservative in this profession. I am that person you see driving under the speed limit on a rainy day; why would my trading strategy be aggressive?  There may be a day when I become more confident and be more like the me who rides barrel horses rather than the me that drives on the freeway.  Right now I'm placing Stop Loss wherever and whenever I find it necessary to do.  You're going to enter a trade, you're going to risk up to 1% of your account.  You press the enter button, and you set both the Stop Loss (at about 10 pips below the last swing low or the last swing high, depending on your mode; bullish or bearish trade.) You place your target at a 1.4:1 ratio meaning if you do end up winning you'll take 1.4x more than you risk. 

    The market doesn't care who you are. The market doesn't ask questions. The market is not your friend, your partner, your business colleague, or your sweetheart. The market is market.  Price doesn't care either. Price can do, and will do one of two things. It will either go up or it will go down. Staying consistent at the exact same level is not really going to happen. You can find that it goes up and down at tiny little intervals, causing the market to become consolidated for a while, but it will eventually go up or down.  This isn't gambling if you know this; it's education. You can't control it, but you can become familiar with it using backtesting to see what the market has done over the past several years. Trends are trends for a reason.

    I will begin trading for real in November. By putting half of my earned salary into my account each month and trading on it in a relatively aggressive manner I will earn between 6-8% each month on the account. I will leave it in the account for about 6-8 months, allowing for any and all compounding. After the end of May, I will have a decision to make and I think I know what I will do. I think I will visit Scotland for three months and live not only off the earnings, but continue to trade while I'm there of course.  After I've had about 90 days in Scotland, I'll decide if I want to stay on a more permanent basis. I will have enough to live off of my account for over a year but will still be using it to trade as well.  

    I can write books, promote my books, sell my books, put the money back into the account, and continue the process endlessly or until Jesus comes back. I think I want this. I'm not sure. I'll have to see what the next few months bring in terms of my plans and my strategies. So far on the demo (which is exactly what I would have been doing if I had the account up and running), I earn 6-8% monthly, and I can easily do the Math to know I could sustain my plan if I continue to trade without emotion and stick to the plan. I know me. I'm more disciplined than most. I kick my own butt so no one else has to. This will be a good thing.  I just have to make it happen one trade at a time and learn how to do that first. It's like baking cakes over and over again. You do it 1000 times and you stop relying on the recipe. Sooner or later there is a slight change and you realize you need to be careful and do it right every time. 

    Forex is not new, but it's not very old either. People say "If it were that simple everyone would do it."  Really?  Do you play guitar? Do you just pick it up, strum it, and make it do all that you want it to do? You do? Great, was it always that easy? I don't think so. Just like learning to play an instrument, trading on Forex takes a tame mind, a good plan, a philosophy, and a lot of practice.  Eventually, you build up those calluses you know you need to keep working it - - and you also get to know yourself pretty damn good too!  I know me. I need my good friend Stop Loss! I'm really glad we met.

    

Photo Credit: Dreamstime.com

New Hobby (Paracord Bracelets)

 I can't remember the first time I saw someone wearing a bracelet made out of a parachute cord (paracord), but I thought the design was rather rough and pretty at the same time. I'm pretty sure it was a camo design, something rugged and manly probably. I know that a lot of survivor-type people like to camp, hike, skydive, fish, and such; paracord bracelets can offer about 10-12 feet of useful 550-pound tested cord in case of an emergency. Some of these bracelets have things like compasses, whistles, watches, and even a little fire starter reflective blade; quite fancy.

    Over the course of time, as it usually does, the fad became interesting to more than just the camping types.  Girls got involved and when girls get involved what was once a manly sort of thing will inevitably become a now girly-girl sort of thing. The pattern may still be camo, but it's now pink camo, baby blue camo, yellow camo, and other pastels.  Then, of course, the athletes were thinking they too could do something cool with these types of bracelets and cords. Colors such as one's school colors or battle colors became the main motif! I can't say I'm shocked. I rather liked the ones I saw with little OU charms (Oklahoma University) and the really cute bracelets with birthstones were adorable. It was probably about then that I thought I should probably buy one, but I never did. I don't know why.

    A few days ago, I decided I would not only get one, but I would get a kit to make a few, and then when I got really good at it, I could make them for everyone I know! That's the reality of it folks, I do that. I make cookies for myself, then the neighbors next, the families of the neighbors, or the friends of the family of the neighbors. Just about anyone who comes by and grabs a few; I'm good.  So now, it's paracords! That's right, I'm going to make about 5000 of them until the urge to make another one finally leaves me. It may not actually be 5000, I could do more, I could do less, but I do think I can make a lot of people happy.

    One thing I can do, and I am doing, is making them for a charity and donating them so that they can sell them at their thrift store. That way I can serve, they can get donations, and people can have really cute paracords!  The charity is called Bethany Christian Trust. It's in Edinburgh, Scotland. Their main colors are purple and white, so I'm making purple bracelets, purple and white bracelets, and I'll throw in a few red-white-blue striped as well, and maybe a few odd this and that so they can have something for everyone.  It's a good plan! I'd rather do something like that than just donate the money. Money is boring. I know we use it, but it's really boring. Bracelets are cute, everyone can wear them!

    Why I never thought about making these things in the past, I don't know. They are soooooo easy to make and cost just at or under $1 to make one that fits the average wrist. It may be slightly more for larger wrists. I'm making them all to fit the average woman and average man. I can't customize things at this point. I'm not doing this for a living. If I were doing it for a living I would have to find a better way than to twist them all myself. I mean, I think I could do 6-8 an hour if I just relaxed and took my time. I could sell them for $15 each if I could find buyers. It's not a bad thing really, but again, it's a fading fad perhaps. It may not be a fading fad in the UK! That may be an option! Hmmmmm now, she's thinking.

    Anyway, it's fun and it's going to be fun. I think I need things to keep my mind occupied. I have the books and I have the Forex. I like keeping the brain cells popping at a faster rate when I can. It may mean the difference between remembering my kids' names later or making sure I have enough chocolate to pour into my coffee when I get to the point that I could care less who sees me do that. 

    Hey, if you're finding yourself at a crossroads where you just can't find a way out of your depression, sadness or whatever, think about making a craft for a charity. You can serve, they can benefit, and your crafts will make others happy too. You're probably more talented than you think you are, and if you don't think you can do much more than tie knots, well, think about making paracords for classes, friends, church people, anyone who may think they may like them. It's fun, it keeps your brain entertained, and if you mess up you can always undo it and start over. I don't know how many times I had to rethread the strings when I realized I had the 2nd half of the clasp going the wrong way. I didn't redo the one I made myself. I had already cut the strings and burned them before I found the mistake; oh well! Life!

    If we can't have a bit of mess in our lives who are we anyway?

Photo Credit: Me.  I made this one for Laura. She liked the Ironman theme.

    

    

WHAT? You Could be PAID to MOVE to SCOTLAND?

 Before you get too excited about the possibility of actually being paid to move to Scotland, let me preface all of it by saying MAY BE, not that you will be. There's a program or two out and about in the country to Scotland, whereby they are looking for younger people and families to move to the remote islands in the far north part of the country.  You may have heard of the Isle of Skye and possibly Orkney, but there are others! There are programs you can find online if you're so inclined to do so; and you too could be a Scot! (Don't actually say you are one even if you do move there, you'll find that they don't really cotton to that sort of thing.) 

    I just realized that in that last sentence I used an absurd word usage that my UK friends who knew me, would say, "You did it again", meaning I used a word that they don't have; and I used it in a way that they never would. I said "you'll find that they don't really cotton to that sort of thing", and by "cotton" I mean "appreciate".  Americans are forever using words that mean nothing to the Brits and I suppose they do it right back at us!  If I were to be paid to move to Scotland, I would not be all that thrilled about being on a remote tiny island in the upper skirts of the country. I would have to pass on the payment option and just move somewhere in the middle where I think I could cause so much more havoc!

    Considering that I would be working from home I would need to first find out if the country is still doing their investment visa. That would be the way to go. I think first I would try the no visa for 6 months, just traveling, and then the visiting visa for six months.  After that, I could go with an entertainment visa which I hear can be up to 24 months, so that's cool. I could research more books, and where I may want to shoot the films for such books. During this time I could trade on the Forex, make a bit, invest a bit in the country, apply for an investor's visa, and have another five years to invest the correct or certain amount. If I wasn't successful with the investments, I could always repeat the process and start with another type of visa for those who really want to be there! I think I'm spinning my proverbial wheels, but hey, it's a fun game to play with my mind at this hour!

    I would likely purchase in a cheaper area rather than settling for a tiny spot in Edinburgh's City Centre. After watching about 100 more films online about the goings on in the ECC on nearly a daily basis, I think I would need a bit more privacy. I am OK with hopping on a bus and taking in the sights as I travel to and from ECC, but I don't think I'd want to hang my hat there; even if it was a tam. I would prefer Falkirk, Polmont, Lauriston, Carrickstone, Redding, and/or Livingston to the west. I would prefer Dalgety Bay, Inverkeithing, Rosyth, and/or Dunfermline to the north, and I'm not really sure I would head out either south or east since Stirling is such an alluring site as well as Edinburgh. I may end up living in Falkirk near Falkirk High Station so I can go anywhere I damn-well please. Good plan.

    I found yet another ad in the classifieds sort of places where people go to find good jobs; and this one was for teaching in the remote locations of Scotland. Seems they pay a higher wage up that way.  Those who were both certified to teach, and who had a family could end up being paid to go, helped to find a home, asked to teach, and paid a better wage! I passed the information along to a younger colleague of mine, and we'll see if she applies. Again, I don't mind vacationing up in that neck of the woods, but I really don't want to be stuck there without a ferry in the dead of winter. Just sayin'.

    I put my thinking cap on again, and I began thinking while I'm working the trade markets and doing Forex, I could also braid paracord bracelets and sell them on Etsy with my soaps, candles, and other wares. I think the market(s) would be drastically smaller since Scotland (and/or the UK) is about 1/42 the size of America, but you just never know, I could find a niche market for my goods and either sell them or just donate them to Bethany Christian Trust, and let them sell them for their own profit. That would be good way of both investing and working the service side as well.  I love serving and God has blessed me. I think I may end up doing something like that. We'll see.

    OK, so back to the slumberland for me. I woke up thinking I wanted to write a bit and get my mind in shape for dreaming. I have a few things I need and want to sort out about my future if the Rapture doesn't come soon.  I mean, it's a win-win. I can go to Scotland or Heaven - - yeah, I'm good with that. I have a bit of planning to do, writing to do, selling, and trading to do, but it's a work about to make progress. I can be patient. Those moors aren't really going anywhere, not anytime soon.

Photo Credit: Equnews.com

    

Closer to Autumn!

 As we close out July, I am reminded that we are still less than 1/2 way through the heat wave of 2022.  Yes, of course, it's worse than last year. We're an entire year closer to the end of time as we know it. The Bible is clear about weather changes. I guess some would like to say "climate change", but the fact is God doesn't lie, and He said this would happen. He also said that we'd face other calamities in the end, there would be certain (named) countries forming alliances at the end as well.  He also mentioned the mannerisms of people, employers, family-to-family, couples, and their children. Guess what folks, WE ARE AT THE END! This makes me really happy!

    It's a Win-Win for me. Either we go to Heaven in the Rapture or we see better weather on the near horizon. I'm good.  I made it through July with only a few mishaps when it comes to dodging human traffic to get to the restrooms in public places. The heat can do a number on your belly when you least expect it.  I have been able to drink nearly 2x the water intake that I normally take in, and believe me when I say I normally outdrink (water or lemon water) a water buffalo! I'm really just one big travel mug when it comes to pouring water down my throat.  To be fair, I've been drinking more than 100 oz (3 liters) of water with lemon or lime for nearly 2 years. Wow, in four days it will be 2 years!

    So, two years ago (4 days from now) I woke up and I was just not having it anymore. The day before I had fallen from my horse AGAIN, and I just knew it was because the saddle didn't fit, or the blanket was scratching him, or something. NOPE. Those were not the causes of my fall. The fact was I was fat! I'm not going to sugarcoat it, you shouldn't sugarcoat it when sugar has basically been the real issue. I love sugar. I make cakes with powder sugared icing, but I won't use it now in anything baked or eaten other than when powdered sugar is used for icing. You can't get the texture you need with Stevia. Two years ago I weighed 216 pounds. Even when I was pregnant and about to give birth to my third child, I wasn't that big. I let my body go to the point that my horse utterly refused to let me ride, and I don't blame him.

    A horse that is 1000 pounds should only be expected to take 20-22% of his or her body weight and that includes the saddle. I was 216, and my saddle was about 28 pounds, so you're talking (wait, there's Math involved) 244 pounds. My horse would need to be between 1150-1220 pounds to take that weight comfortably and he was rocking 1000 maybe!  Though 24.4% is not a huge problem for a horse for short periods of time, I was asking more of him than he was willing to comfortably do, and that's what happened. I was no longer comfortable in the saddle. I thudded to the ground and let me tell you, 216 pounds hitting the ground hurts. It was time to change EVERYTHING and I knew it.

    I sold my horse because I knew it would be a year before I could lose enough weight to ride like a skinny girl again.  I didn't account for my girth when I pushed through for canters and my girth paid homage to the laws of gravity. I lost in that one a few times.  I sold the horse to a great family, and I started the long process of eating better, drinking only lemon water, no soda, no sugar in my drinks at all, and I did away with the candies I kept as snacks. I traded sugars for nuts, fruits, veggies, and grains. In about a year's time (August 2021) had lost about 48 pounds. I was really hoping it would be 50, but it was 48.  So from 216 to (wait, Math again) 168 and I rode my daughter's horse to "reward" myself.  SUCH a difference! Oh my gosh, I came so close to just buying another horse, I'm not kidding you.

    Today, just four days from the 2nd anniversary of my diet and exercise program, I am literally still 168, but, I am smaller than I was last year at this time, so I have to assume I am building muscle. I have that belly still, I still have bigger breasts, and I don't want them. I have a plan to rid myself of them permanently, but I'm going to give myself 6-8 months more of dieting and exercising, weight lifting, and stretching to see if I can get them down to a reduced size and it will be easier on me to recover when I do have them reshaped.  Most women want augmentation, not this one. If I come out looking like I did as a freshman in high school I will not complain!

    SUMMER is more than 1/3 gone!! THANK YOU, JESUS!  Done with the 100+ degree weather, but we do still have about 4 more weeks of it. August tends to roll by faster than July because I find myself pouring myself into my work. This year it will be teaching again, like it was in 2021, 2019, and 2018.  In 2020 we were all asked to stay home and work from home, which I was doing anyway, so there was nothing really to do other than sweat and complain about it. I don't know why we Americans complain about the heat outside when we have cooler homes, but maybe we just like to complain, or maybe it's the electric bill that skyrockets due to the heat outside. Either way, we complain throughout July and August, and we like to joke and say that the first day of the State Fair brings the needed rain! (We say that because the first day of the State Fair typically pours as the skies open up and ruin the first day revenues year after year.)

    Six more weeks! Can she do it? I think I can. I think I can press forward with my new exercise program, the diet, the water intake, and the new changes with Matcha tea vs. coffee. Green tea is supposed to trigger the metabolism, and I need to be triggered, let me tell you!  I'm also taking in activated charcoal twice a day to see if I can get even more "toxin" out of my system.  Did you know that the doctors who were forced to give the jabs have been actively telling patients and anyone who will listen, to use activated charcoal to get "toxic waste" out of your system? True fact. I'm doing it. I also soak in vinegar water (1 cup) with 1/2 cup of baking soda every night, and use essential rose oil in a mix of almond oil and mineral oils afterward. Rose oil has a frequency level of 320!  WHAT? You don't know about frequency levels? I'm sorry, there's another blog for that!

Bring on September!!!

Photo Credit: OKCFox.com

Italian Cream Cake (Because I can)

 You know me, I don't (and can't) play the guitar to save my life. I mean, if my life were literally depending on it, I would at least have the wherewithal to grab the damn thing by the neck and use it as a beating tool to find myself either space, time, or both. I just can't expect my fingers or thumbs to do the things that some people can do with their eyes closed; making the most amazing sounds that God has ever created. It is what it is, but there is something I can do, and I don't know that I've ever tried to do it with my eyes closed, but if push came to shove and there was no other way, I could if I needed to, make and bake an Italian cream cake! I'm really very good at it! 

    There are times, and today was one of them, that I'll just be sitting at my computer thinking about remodeling a home I don't own, and the strong and urgent sensation that I need to bake just creeps right over me and through me. I have a few go-to recipes that seem to stave off anything too serious, but today it was one of the ultimate comfort foods; Italian cream cake. I think I put my first one together when I was in grade school. I didn't actually enter the State Fair with it, but I lied and told people that I did. I never said I won any ribbons, I just said I entered it into the competition. God only knows why my mom let me get away with such nonsense. She couldn't bake, that's probably it right there! LOL...sorry Mom.  She's a great artist though! She makes her recipes out of oils, pastels, pencils, and watercolors. 

    The Italian cream cake is one of those over-the-top eggy types and you have to blend it using a hand mixer to get it fluffy and smooth.  You add the coconut to stiffen it up a bit, and of course for flavor and texture.  The recipe calls for buttermilk, and at room temperature. I didn't have buttermilk. I have not been able to find it either, thank you very much. I can make it, but I didn't take the time to do that today. I used whipping cream and regular milk, let it set out for an hour, and added a bit of vanilla.  It's all good. No, really, it is ALL very very good.

    I don't need or want to bake a round cake here at my house since it's just Laura and I living here. We don't need to be fancy. I cut the recipe back enough to fill up a 9x9 Pyrex and since I had a bit left over I formed a couple of good-sized cupcakes as well.  I just took them out of the oven and put them straight into the freezer so I can ice them and drop a few pecans on top.  That's gonna be really nice - - I don't really have to have a reason to celebrate when I bake. I just bake. It's the same thing that some people do when they walk into a room and pick up their Gibson or their Fender. I have a Yamaha guitar that I call Wally. I do actually pick him up and play chords so he's not lonely. I offered him a bite of my cupcake - - he declined. 

    For me, baking is not just a thing to do. I consider it a release of stress, pressure, happiness, joy, sorrow, and even mental anguish if I had any, but I don't really have anything like that - - maybe it's because I bake. I am quite sure there must be a solid connection between anxiety and blending eggs into Stevia. I don't use sugar when I bake. I haven't used granulated sugar for more than 2 years. I get the same results and no one knows the difference.  I don't have to freak over the calories, which means I can have two pieces of Italian cream cake if I want to! (I mean, let's get real, I could eat the whole thing if Laura wasn't here to help). I think I'll grab a friend or two to share it.  If you're gonna sing a song you wrote, or recite a poem you wrote, you'll want someone else to like it too; right? Yeah! I'm the same when it comes to food. I have to share. (I have a few good friends you know, I keep them happy)

    Here's the recipe I used. I don't know that I found it anywhere, it's just the one I use. (Remember, this is for a 9x9 glass dish, not a 3-tier round)

Preheat the oven to 350. You don't want the top browning before the middle.

Cream together in a mixing bowl (I use a hand mixer)

4 eggs

1 cup of Stevia

3/4 cup of butter

1 tsp of vanilla

1 cup of buttermilk (I used whipping cream and Lactaid)

Add the following:

1-1/2 cups of all-purpose flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

3/4 cup of flaked coconut

BLEND with a hand mixer until really smooth.

Pour it into a 9x9 (sprayed with oil) glass dish. Bake for about 35 minutes, but check it a few times. You'll know it's ready when the sides and top are a golden brown, you can lightly touch the top and it doesn't give, and you can check it with a toothpick in the middle. If the toothpick comes out clean, it's done.

The icing: (ONLY apply when the cake is cool)

2-1/2 cups of powdered sugar (I don't use Stevia for this)

8 oz of cream cheese

1/4 cup of butter

1 tsp of vanilla

BLEND IT AND MAKE IT CREAMY. (add coconut if you want)

When the cake is done you can wait to cool it or stick it in the fridge or freezer for a few minutes.  Add pecans to the icing if you want, or just spread the icing and then add the pecans.  If you do make a round cake this recipe will make a two-tier only and the pans need to be sprayed and use a little flour on them to help get the cake out before icing it.

Photo Credit: Me

Tipping at the Register

 Apparently, there have been some changes in the restaurant business since the Pandemic.   Now, since waitstaff is rarely coming to your table now, and you must order at the register, they are no longer coming by to take an order, fill your drink, fill your order, check on you, and then take up your plates to prepare for the next guest. They want you to order at the front, pay at the front, and LEAVE A TIP at the register even if they are not going to do anything for you. The reason someone would tip is that the service is good, not so that we can pay for it in advance. I watched a couple NOT pay the tip and saw that the waitstaff at the front didn't give them as good of service as they did myself and my friend. We both left tips, but we didn't want to. My friend told me if we didn't give at least a 15% percent tip we could expect slower service and then she said, "and only God knows what they may do to your food". I flat out hate that!

    In America, we are conditioned to tip our waitstaff because we know they are paid a minimum wage and earn the rest of their income through tips. It used to be something really low like $2.50 an hour plus whatever tips you could receive. In 2010 my daughters waited tables and made $2.25-2.50 per hour, but they made bank from tips; they were friendly and cordial, funny, and made people feel welcome. It was not unheard of for either of my kids to bring home $200 a night and they didn't serve alcohol, they were serving dinners, and pancakes at a waffle house!  Today, I went to a McAlisters and ordered a $10 meal, it came with a tiny side, and I ordered a tea which added $2.49 on top of my meal. That's a lot of money for tea if you ask me. Yes, they will refill it for you, they better! As I was inserting my credit card the lady at the register said "It will ask you another question, and it's totally up to you."  Really? No, it's not.

    When I visit the UK I am always that American, you know, the one that pulls out their credit card to pay, and then tips the wait staff when I leave. There, in the UK, they are paid a working wage, and the average citizen doesn't tip anyone at any restaurant unless it's a fancy place, and they want to impress those they are with.  Americans just automatically give up 15%-20% of our meal price if the service is good, but I've not really found good service in the UK and I'm thinking it's more or less connected to the fact that they get a wage and don't expect a tip. When I have to flag someone down and ask for a refill only to be told I'll need to pay for a 2nd drink, you can bet I'm not going to feel much like tipping in that situation. NOW, because of the lame Pandemic-excuse, we are being forced to PAY FOR THE SERVICE before we get it through tipping at the register, or we have to possibly suffer the consequences - - whatever they may be. I'm not happy.

    The food was OK at McAlister's tonight, but they weren't generous with their beef like they used to be. I think inflation has reared its ugly head in every nook and cranny possible. I'm not going to spend $13 on a meal if I'm not being served a decent amount of food; I can stay home, save money, treat myself well, never put up a tip, and guarantee myself at least one free refill on tea, water, or whatever the hell I decide to drink. I really like myself. I could serve myself all night! I think it's time we consumers began putting up a fuss about what it is we expect and what it is that we won't tolerate.   I don't have to go out, I choose to do so. I don't have to beg someone to do their job, they should just do it. I should never have to worry about the condition or safety of my food if I choose not to add a tip to my bill before even being served. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That's what YELP is for I suppose!

    Too many of us are complaining these days about the way younger people handle customer service, and there's a reason for that.  Younger people can't really handle customer service (generally speaking) and when I have to wait for a cashier to put her damn phone down to take my order there's a problem. When I call her manager over and he's about a year older, and I see him put his phone away before coming to speak to me, there's another problem. Again, that's what YELP is for. Perhaps we can stop trying to settle matters at the establishment and try our luck with leaving comments online. That's where it will make a difference to them nowadays anyway! I realize it's 2022, and I need to think outside my old-fashioned time-machine type of box, but then again, I have to say it, we did things so much better when I was in that position. I wanted my job. I looked forward to being paid. I thought I could handle more hours so I could get a car, or be independent. That's not a motivator these days.  Oh well, my choice. I don't have to put myself in those restaurants.

    It's been a bit of a rant. I get that, but from time to time I'm allowed. It is my blog after all. 

Photo Credit: PayStone.com

    

What My Son Has Taught Me.

 Reuben is a big man.  He's not the biggest, he's about 6'1" and he weighs about 230 pounds I suppose. He's tall, handsome, really bright, and intelligent, mind you, and he's simply the most amazing man I've ever had the privilege of knowing. Not that I'm the least bit biased, but if you don't believe anything I say about my son, you can feel free to ask either of his grandmothers, they will certainly agree with me on every point.  

    All that being said, my son can be an asshat. He admits it, he rather embraces it as well.  We'll be walking (anywhere) and my darling boy hates it, won't tolerate it, when someone wants to approach either of us for any reason. He's not where were are to chat, he's not where we are to talk (small talk), to be asked if he needs help, or to be given any assistance whatsoever. If he needed assistance, he would damn well ask for it. Since he hasn't asked for it, it can be rightly assumed that he doesn't need any assistance whatsoever.  This can be seen by spectators or on-lookers as being a bit gruff, to put it mildly; most people see him coming and either stand to the side or dip their heads so as not to give eye contact. One thing my son LOVES to do is to walk straight to where he's going, nearly daring someone to cut him off, and when they come close enough to him he stares directly into their eyes as he pushes past with his face stoic and uninviting. No one has approached us; not once. We get where we're going uninterrupted for the most part.

    I was at the mall today and I was doing two things; one, I was getting my steps in, and two, I was trying to walk through the mall without buying anything or being distracted in any way because I didn't want to buy anything. I was there to get my 10,000+ steps in.  It's over 105 degrees again today, and I just wanted to work my body! I had no intention of buying anything from anyone. At the mall there are about 20 different merchants standing in the middle of the vast halls, calling out to folks to get them to come up to their kiosks to buy something. They sell keychains, phone cases, stuffed animals, cards, makeup, you name it. I didn't want to be bothered so I went into REUBEN MODE!! (it really worked)

    There I am, in the Penn Square Mall in Oklahoma City.  I walked with purpose. I threw my shoulders back, stood as tall as I could and I put my "Don't-even-think-about-looking-in-my-face" eyes on.  I kept my jaw tight, I breathed just so. I had to actively think about my breathing so I wouldn't overdo it, and so I could draw in the right amount for the faster pace I was keeping. I must have passed 300 people, not one of them got in my way. Without exception they began parting to the right and to the left, a couple of them saw me coming and scooted across in front of me a bit to get to the other side before I overtook them. I was really enjoying myself and I thought I should take a minute and text my son to let him know how very grateful I am to be pushing through the crowds with ease on my mission to walk my 5+ miles in the air-conditioned mall!

    The Penn Square Mall holds a bit of history for Reuben and me. It was the mall we came to when he was just a lad, and he put his right hand into some white gooey clay mix in order to make a permanent hand print for the new and innovative play area of the Mall itself. Hundreds of kids did it that weekend.  His handprint was marked with his initials RS, and placed on the wall. They tried to tell us where the hand print would be once they were placed, but I suppose it would be nearly impossible to get them all straight.  We found his handprint though!  Many years later they took the handprints down off the walls and they mentioned it on television and such so parents or even the kids themselves (who were all grown up 25 years later) could come to get their plastered handprints. Reuben's is still on the wall. They kept about 100 of the prints. His is next to Macy's department store. It used to be Foleys. I stop by it when I go, and I think about my Baby Boy being so little. He smiled more than you know, and he didn't mind if people approached.

    Today, my little boy is a military man, a commander of sorts, as well as a businessman, owning his own insurance agency (basically). He works for a company, but on his own, so it's difficult to explain.  He's still in the Armed Forces and has been deployed a few times.  I'm absolutely sure that his walking face has been perfected for years as he leads and trains soldiers to be all that they can be.  To me, he will always be my son, my baby boy, my hero, and my guardian. If he can teach me things I'll pay attention - - as long as I know he loves me, and I do in fact know that.

Photo Credit: Me

Gathering Ways to Hide Evidence (For the Book)

 I feel like I shouldn't just come out and say what I'm doing when I am caught taking photos of crevices at the stores I walk through. I'm over there in the lawn and garden area of my local Home Depot, and I'm taking photos of places that are out of the way, perhaps hidden by a big bulky pallet of bricks or bird feed. In the book one of the characters allows people to hide their (what we will call evidence) wares for a price. The price she charges isn't money. She asks them to provide the feed or the sawdust she needs to feed her livestock or to redress their stalls. If the supplies for these locations in her barn dwindle and their wares are seen where they could be found, well then, so be it. It's then up to the supplier to keep her grain-happy and saw-dust-aplenty! 

    I shouldn't just explain myself when I'm asked by the manager or a curious employee what it is that I'm doing. I should be coy and say I'm an artist or something, and I like to paint the scenes others pass by and never see.  I suppose I could also say something like, "I'm about to dispose of a body I've just found lying about my house. I think it would be more interesting if it were found here."  No, I can't do that. I'm not that mean and I don't want to face criminal charges for being flippant! The truth is, I'm a writer, and I do have a body to dispose of. I haven't exactly worked out the how, when, where, or why of the murder, but that's just murder. I need to find a way (or ways) to keep the legal wolves at bay!

    Today, at Home Depot, I found Lyme, other liquids, and chemicals I could use in a pit or something. I found bird feed, bricks, concrete, sand, and other semi-solids that would be helpful. I could do what they did to the body of Elmer McCurdy, and pour a yard of concrete on top of the body - - maybe level off a sidewalk or a new porch. That would work if the character just purchased a new place and thought he/she needed to spruce it up a bit.  Maybe I'll think of a way to do that in the country, but right now the body in question is just a piece of a body; the majority of it has already been...disposed of, and may I say, it will not be found. (CLUE!)

    There are certain instruments that could be found and connected with the body parts. One would think throwing them into the lochs would be the best way to dispose of them, but perhaps dissembling them first would be better. Then again, if a young boy out fishing were to find just a piece of a saw blade without the handle, it could bring questions. If he were just to find the entire blade with the handle, it may only seem to have been dropped from a boat out on the loch perhaps, nothing to see here folks.  Cleavers are good.  No one suspects a cleaver in a kitchen to be anything except a cleaver in a kitchen. Sawblades without handles in the loch? No, it may be too risky indeed (and in deed). 

    I found grills too.  I found lighter fluid. I found matches. I found shovels and rocks, bricks, and screens that could be used to build an outdoor fire pit. Did they have big grills in the 1930s? I'll need to research how a family would enjoy an outdoor meal (or twelve) were they to find the need (even the necessity) to fire up the charcoals. Can charcoal be used for other uses? I'm told it can whiten your teeth and more importantly, bind toxins or poisons in your gut if you've been slipped something dangerous. Would someone need a medical license to obtain activated charcoal in 1930? Was it even activated at that time? I'll need to read up on that as well. I found bags of the Kingsford brand on my Home Depot shelves. Was it in a hardware store in Chicago, New York, or Edinburgh in 1930? Maybe. 

    I found Master brand padlocks. How long have they been around? Would they have been made solely of brass? I just read that in 1919 an American named Harry Soref invented the padlock from layers of steel in order to secure military belongings and supplies. Before the lock, he created a Master Key, a skeleton-type key, but he wanted a lock that couldn't be picked by his own invention. A thinking man, that one. So, the Master Lock will play a part in my book.  Soref was from Wisconsin, which is not so far from Chicago. Nick may have met Mrs. Soref at a military ball, you just never know. The Navy Pier is there you know, in Chicago! A Master Lock demonstration perhaps? We'll see.

    It's so much fun to build and bring forth the characters in these books. I'm using the Perry Mason style of writing (author Erle Stanley was a master for sure) and I'll make sure to give credit where credit is due. Though a bit on the sarcastic and cheesy side, I love it, and I will use it when I can. Tongue in cheek is not beyond me. I live for the chance to use double meanings, innuendo, and clever wordage. I am NOTHING if not wordsy, and artsy-fartsy while being wordsy.  It must be. It must be because it is in fact being written by me, and that is the only way I know how to present anything - - if you don't like it, you can always donate your copy! (Just as long as you buy one, that's all I care about. Just kidding. I want you to like it, too.)

    What else did I find? I found hand tools. I found hammers, ball, claw, you name it. I found them. I found power tools, but there weren't many if any in 1930, so I'll stick with the basics. I think that's one point I love about these books, they will all be without many modern luxuries, and even the toilets will be crude at times.  Think about it, when you make an outhouse you dig a hole. No one is going to go digging in that hole later, are they? Wouldn't it be a great place to stash a body, or maybe just part of a body? Maybe? Would it be so bad if I filled it up with concrete to seal it later? You know so that no one smells anything? Maybe?

     I found fencing, wood, chain, metal, and wire. I found spools of wire. I found gloves, pliers, clamps, and vices. I found tool boxes, bags, places to store tools, and since there weren't really any scheduled garage pick-ups in those days, (people mainly burned their garage) I found a few garden spades.  Garden spades would be of greater use if they were used to dig small holes in the side of a hill or moor. Small tools can do a lot of damage in the hands of a small tools expert; wouldn't you say?

    I had fun. That's for sure. I ended up going to the mall, to the library, to the grocery store, and to an open farmers market today. One thing I had to do, something that wasn't available in the 1930s for sure; I hit up Target's Back to School sale and picked up 12 composition notebooks for .50 cents each! I LOVE this time of year. I bought index cards, pens, highlighters, and a binder to put my notebooks in. Yeah, I'm old school. I like to write things out first, then write them out using the keyboard. I think working with the pen works my brain - - I know this, when I'm writing quickly I'm thinking quickly. I have to physically slow my hand down in order to think of finer details - - are you like that too? 

Write something.  Find out.

Photo Credit: FineArtAmerica.com

Book Research (This is so GROSS)

 If you know me, you know I can't go fishing because I can't do blood. I can't put the worm on the hook, I can't see the fish on the hook (caught by the mouth) and I can't possibly cut up a fish, filet it, and/or chop off its head and tail. That is JUST NOT going to happen. Now, that being said, I am perfectly capable of writing about it in full and disgusting detail if I needed to. I just can't actually do it. I can't watch Chicago Med without my fingers of my left hand covering my eyeballs most of the time - - and it's one of my favorite shows.  I can read about gross things, but then I start seeing them, and I can't hardly take it, so I have to go for a walk or pray through it. I can write about it, but then I can't read it back to myself easily - - still, the disposal of the bodies I write about have always been the focus of my murder writings, not necessarily the act(s) themselves. Murder is just that, murder. It's an act, but the lead-up, the cover-up, the disposal, and the trial prep -- those are interesting facts.

    Today, I'm writing the Murder Book! I've been threatening to write it for years now. I've written stories, grotesque and morbid, often way too macabre for my own brain, however, the book is another feat. The book is not just a story, it is a collection of facts, many stories leading up to and surrounding the main story, which is then separated out and told by others in the form of a trial, testimony, expert witnesses, and of course, verdicts.  I'm finally making the words mean more than just notes on cards.  I have in fact decided to dive deeper into the characters first so that I know who I am dealing with. I'm naming them, giving them reasons to survive and thrive. I'm addressing their backstories, finding out why they are connected if they are connected, and exactly how they may be forever forged by the ties that now bind them. Are these ties made of imaginary convictions or are they made of wire or hemp? Someone Had to Die. (The title of the book, Someone Had to Die)

    So, after laying down the sticks and bones of the main characters I'm going through Wikipedia to gather information and intel on a couple of would-be actors in the play was this a play.  Many true-to-life characters will be referenced in the book; one of which is the character, the real-life serial child molester, a killer, and found to be cannibal named Albert Fish.  Fish was the subject of a 2007 released film called The Grey Man, a movie my son was hired to act in (2005) and one I have only seen once after realizing the director cut my son's good scenes! WHAT? How dare he? Oh well, I have the stills from the event. I can say with complete honesty that my son was the best-looking cop on the set, bar none! (Side note, when Reuben was asked to tackle the stunt man who was doubling for the bad guy, he took the order a bit too seriously. My son played football at the time and was one of the state's leading linemen. Just braggin'.)

    I'm reading about Fish and I'm reading about another disgusting piece of shit named Peter Kutren. Kutren was known as the Vampire of Dusseldorf. Oh, the things these men did to people. I can't hardly stomach reading about it. Like I said, I can write about it, make it up, use these events and sickening descriptions to salt and pepper my own stew of tales, but nasty, nasty, nasty! I shake in my boots thinking about it, and I'm only wearing my socks!.  (I have to restate that, I do actually have on other bits of attire as well, I'm not sitting at my keyboard in JUST my socks..no, I'm odd at times, but not that way.) I just don't wear shoes if I don't need to. My preacher goes barefoot most of the time. I like my feet covered. I have the dirtiest socks this side of the Mississippi, but that's another subject to be discussed. I may actually put that in the book, who knows? I find a lot of really interesting and not-so-interesting facts to add to my notes.

    What's happening today is note-taking. The building, the getting to know who and what I'm dealing with. Next, I'll pop notes and tidbits in some sort of order, maybe make a skeleton of the timeline, go from there, and fill in the blanks. After I get the blanks filled in I'll remove and add more fillers and I'll change my mind completely, just because I can, then I'll put it back the way it was because I think it's good, and that's the plan for now.  It's worked pretty well in the past - - but this time I'm publishing!  I'm also testing the waters by leaking quotes and tiny bits of information online to see what sort of responses I get.  I've been emailed by about 4 of the characters so far; people I've cast in a shadow of a glance type modification(s) of a character. All of my good friends will be cast in the book one way or the other. They know this. I'm not asking permission, just letting them know. If they don't want me using their real names I won't (Except for Robin! Robin will be Robin because she is such a good Robin! It's a wonder British name and she fits it.)

    One of my new characters is based on a tiny woman at the pet store. She's given me permission to use her character in the book. She's even allowed me to call her by her first name, and I think I will.  There were plenty of women with the name Katie (Kathryn) back in the 30s and in Chicago.  She's a feisty one!  You have to watch out for the quiet ones you know. Another character is our friend Joakim from Sweden, he's allowed me to use his name as well.  A young adventurous weather student from a foreign country who just happens to follow the extreme weather wherever it leads him. We won't see much of Joakim in the first book, maybe a line or two, but he reappears in the 2nd book as it takes place in and around Norman, Oklahoma - - tornadoes!!  Oh wait, I can't give too much away now, can I?

    OK, gotta get back to the slaying of my brain now.  Wikipedia is a wealth of information about these historical figures, the time period(s), decoration, decorum, places, and settings. I've stumbled across a treasure for sure, but my spirit is turned when I realize that the victims of these killers were truly alive. They were real and human beings with love, fear, feelings, anxiety, emotional distress, and in some cases open torture. I cry just reading about them. When I think about the end, the day we know will eventually come to these barbaric men (and women), I am no more at peace with the innocent lives they took.  I just can't understand true psychosis. I never will understand it.

Photo Credit: Pinterest 

Book Prep. (The Time is Now)

 Just because I haven't published all of my books doesn't mean I haven't written them. It would not be out of left field to say I've written more than 100 books; it's just most people don't count journals or diaries as authored books. Let's see, each journal over the past few years has been over 220 pages and I've hand-written all of them. I could, if I wanted to, canon a few, type them up and produce one right after the other so that the official count could be, well, official.  I wonder if I could get even three people to read the contents of those dull and mundane "write" of passage. I doubt it.

    I have published six times I think. I have a couple of books ready to be published, and I have one that is just about ready to be put to the pen in its first fully developed skeleton form.  What I do usually (always) is buy a new composition notebook so that I can write all the thinking thoughts I have while I'm thinking about the stories that will be told in the book. There has to be a beginning, a middle, and an end, but because I believe the end should be known, I find myself working backward, but not in reverse chronological order by any means. I jump all over the place when I write. I think this thought, scratch it, come up with three new thoughts, and scrap those. I read and watch old shows to get ideas. I write more, scrap more, think more, and finally come up with the best idea there is; to ask the dog!

    I've been asking my dog(s) life questions and boundary questions for years. Rover was certainly the king of knowledge, by the time I was three he was two and we were inseparable.  He may have carried my sister's middle name, but he was MY dog! I don't think there will be much of a fuss about it when we all see Jesus. Nope, that dog, unless he is stuck in my grandfather's arms, will run straight to me! I know he will. If I have to take my gramps out by the knees to make that happen, well, there you go! LOL...you'd have to know...gramps only had one knee! 

    Tomorrow it is! Not only is it my baby girl's 32nd birthday, but it is also the day I decide to write down the names of all or most of the characters in the murder book. I'll also dial up a few interesting facts about each of them, and I'll try to start them out on their own to see if they leap off the pages and create the story on their own or if I'll have to still push and nudge a little. Tinny cheesy music may help a bit, the book does take place in the mid-20th century before Spotify, the internet, and even phones really. Most people didn't have them, only the police and other important people. Niki's character will no doubt need a phone. She's exotic. She'll have whatever she needs. Jeannie's character, on the other hand, will talk big about having her own phone and make a fuss about such extras, but hers is a more modest true-to-the-times story to tell. Her passage on the ship was not necessarily an accident, but she didn't have to pay her own way. She was a class A bargainer! A networker before networking was really all that big of a deal.

    It's happening!! I bought a few books from Amazon tonight to go through and get a nice little foundation of interesting facts and provoking thoughts going. An obscure author named Richard Miles wrote a couple of books in the 50s that may be of some interest.  He was an actor in Perry Mason before turning to the typewriter. He also became a teacher, and in one of his books, he murdered several faculty members of the school! I wrote a blog about doing something similar in 2021, and it cost me my job at the middle school where I was teaching! Some people don't have any sense of humor! Now, the Miles books will feed my brain - - and your interest indirectly, I suppose.

    This book introduces Nick Posh, the rough-cut detective with dual citizenship from both America and Great Britain.  His intentions to remain in America as much as he possibly can have been interrupted by a wee inconvenience involving the murder of a colleague several years ago. The wee inconvenience occurred when the body (or part of it) was found.  Something obviously didn't go as planned, and the truth was about to be shared before the courts. Just his luck, Nick's that is, that upon returning to the scene another inconvenience occurs; the only witness to the possible disposal of the body was unceremoniously murdered by his wife, a woman whose family more than wanted to never see Posh's face again.  Couldn't she have waited another week before sending the singer to his last curtain call?

    I can't wait!!  I'll probably not sleep well either. I'll be thinking of decorations from the 1930s in both Chicago and New York. I'll have to find books on Edinburgh from that time period, and do a bit of research to see when the libraries were open, what streets they were on, and so forth. It's not going to be a book full of too many fluffy details, but I don't want to make the mistake of inputting a 1970s wall hanging in a 1930s period book - - geez, that would embarrass me. Or would it? I could add a bit of Tesla teasing at that point and have little Barron Trump make an appearance, again, you have to know to know.

FUN TIMES!!

Photo Credit: ME.  This is my son Reuben from a movie shot in Guthrie, OK in 2005. It was a 1930's period film (NYC).  He was a rookie cop! In reality, he was just out of high school.  So handsome.