May Day Mayday

Today is May Day. But is that still a thing? Does anyone still practice it? Does anyone besides old fogies like me even know what it is?

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about a mariner’s distress call—that would be mayday. I’m speaking of the long past custom of, on the first day of May, placing flowers on someone’s doorstep, ringing the bell and then running away before they answer the door—known as May Day.

When I was a kid, this was fairly common. We did it every year, sometimes to more than one person. It was fun, not only for me but I’m pretty sure the people who got the flowers enjoyed it as well. But it’s been years since I’ve heard of anyone engaging in the May Day practice.

Perhaps the tradition died off because there isn’t an app for it. If it can’t be done on a phone or tablet, no one is interested. And May Day does require a bit, just a bit, of physical activity, instead of merely clicking on a button.

Or, perhaps the custom went away due to another reason. With the growing trend these days of characterizing harmless activities as destructive or even villainous, I can see the whole May Day thing being labeled as criminal mischief or some such illegal behavior. And I can hear some “concerned” official explaining how frightening such a thing could be for a little old lady who lives alone. (Nevermind that if she’s older than 40 or so, she’s probably quite familiar with May Day).

I seriously doubt that anyone would be frightened by receiving flowers in such a manner. And I also have my doubts that any criminal is going to take the time to arrange a nice bouquet of flowers and then go to the trouble of delivering those flowers to his “victim.” Criminals usually don’t want to put that much work into anything.

But for argument’s sake, let’s say that some poor old woman is scared out of her wits by finding a bouquet at her door. If she really believed she was in danger, couldn’t she just send out a mayday call? Sorry, I guess I was talking about May Day in the sense of a distress call after all. ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

A Moving Story

Well, the state of Idaho is still where it has always been. Just went and checked this weekend because apparently driving 3600 miles a week is not enough; I had to add another 600 or so.

Okay, I really didn’t make a trip to Idaho just to see if it was still there. My wife and I went to help our son move. After I finished my run on Friday, I slept about four hours before we headed out.

Lucky for us, a few other people had already pitched in to help the kid move (including my dad who was in the area) and by the time we arrived most of the heavy lifting had been done. We helped pick up all the little things that a guy thinks aren’t going to take long. But then, there turns out to be a lot more of them and things drag on. Then, there was the cleaning of the old apartment—and a few chores at the new place as well.

I did manage to get a few hours of sleep Saturday night but then spent most of the day Sunday finishing up. Then, it was time to go driving again! Yay! But at least the kid (the kid, who is 22 years old, so not much of a kid anymore) is all moved. It’s now a little past midnight on Monday morning. We just made it home and I think I shall try to get a little sleep because for some reason, I’m tired! ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

How To Stop A Thief

So, my neighbor’s house got broken into last week. No, I didn’t do it! Although… The police did come to visit me. But only to ask if I’d seen anything about 10:30 on the night in question.

“Well, no,” I told the cop. “It’s dark at that time and I can’t see in the dark.”

He seemed to have no sense of humor and his frowning gaze suggested he thought I shouldn’t have one either. And since I had no information for him, he appeared eager to leave, so I decided to play a little game—just to see how much information he would give to me. Not much, it turns out. I learned the break-in was in the back of the house, the people weren’t home, and that the police were not sure what was taken. Which seemed to indicate SOMETHING had been taken—even though, he didn’t exactly say that.

Then, he said something about additional burglaries in the area. Now I was the one with no sense of humor!

Whether he was referring to actual incidents or hoping to prevent future ones, I’m not sure. And he didn’t really elaborate when I asked—just offered me the standard, run-of-the-mill advice, as in: Make sure to keep all windows and doors locked, don’t leave valuables out in plain sight, keep a few lights on, etc.

That’s all nice, I guess, but it doesn’t really help catch anyone responsible if my stuff gets stolen. And judging by the lack of effectiveness of the police (in the case of my neighbor) there’s not much of a guarantee they’d be all that helpful either.

On a related note, my new security camera should arrive in a day or two. No, it probably won’t deter anyone from breaking in, but at least I might be able to identify the culprits if they do. It’s one of those nifty little cameras that I can control from my phone with all sorts of features that I’ll probably never use. The feature I would like to install is an artillery attachment! But I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be kosher with, well, anyone. But it probably would stop the break-ins! For a while anyway. ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

 

Snakes!

Saw my first rattlesnake of the season the other day. At last! Spring is here!

Okay, I admit, I really don’t like snakes. I much prefer other indicators of spring like: robins, budding trees, and warmer temperatures but after an unusual long and drawn out winter, a rattlesnake was a welcomed sight. Snakes are far better than the icy roads and the bitter cold. I do reserve the right to change my mind on this later in the year—when the whole snake population of the countryside comes out to play!

Not that I’ll be ready for winter again but I’m thinking the excitement of seeing a snake will likely taper off. Did I mention I don’t really like snakes? In fact, I usually kill every snake I run across. But oddly, the one I saw the other day is still slithering around somewhere—at least it was when I last saw it. Either I’m getting lazy or I’m really happy that summer is on its way. Both maybe.

Still, the fact that I didn’t kill this snake is somewhat strange. I know, some people get all uptight when I mentioned killing something, even snakes. They’re usually the ones who say something like, “But snakes help control the mice population.”

And they are correct. Snakes do help get rid of mice. But might I suggest a purchase of Decon? Just a thought.

One person I said that to spluttered back, “Well, snakes are God’s creatures too!” As if that means I have to let them live. But aren’t mice God’s creatures as well? Yet, the guy seemed okay with the mice dying.

“That may be,” I told him, “but uh, I really don’t like snakes.” Unless of course, they are the first sign of spring—apparently. ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

 

Fifty Years Ago Today…

Fifty years. Half a century. Once again, it’s my birthday! Yes, I am now officially old, as my grandkids have made sure I’m aware. I really don’t think they needed the occasion of my birthday to make their point; they seemed to have the same opinion when I was 49. Trouble is, I fear they may have a point now! How did this happen? Sometimes it’s hard to believe. Seems like just the other day, I was a kid. And I remember it all very well.

But while I have a fairly decent memory, strangely, I do not recall anything about my birth, although I’m quite certain I was there. Positive almost. Still, I have no recollection of the momentous occasion.

Since I can’t relate any of the details, I had planned to share some pearls of wisdom; things I’ve learned in my fifty years on the planet—then I realized I don’t really have any because the older I get, the less I know. Maybe it’ll turn around now though and over the next fifty years, I’ll learn something. Hopefully it does, because if not, and things continue as they have been, I’ll be completely devoid of knowledge by the time I reach 100 I’m afraid.

But that’s okay, I guess. I doubt I’ll need to know much at that age. And it probably wouldn’t do any good if I did know things; no one would care, or listen, and I’d be too old to use any of it.

In light of all that, I’m not convinced birthdays are not really that meaningful; they haven’t as yet made me any smarter, but they have dramatically contributed to the aging effect—gray hair, increased aches and pains and the like. Of course, birthdays ARE significant in one respect—I’m still alive and kicking!

I guess that’s the only bit of wisdom that I can impart… “Birthdays may be the leading cause of aging but they are one of the best indicators that a guy is still alive!”

Okay, I’ll stop rambling now and start celebrating as the clock just struck midnight. It’s now April 3rd and I’m… fifty years old! ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

An Early Autumn?

While everyone else was celebrating the arrival of Spring last week, I went straight to Fall…

I can’t really explain how this happened because, well, I’m not really sure. Here’s what I know: On Tuesday morning, I let one of my dogs out but apparently, I was supposed to stay inside. At least I SHOULD have stayed inside. Hindsight never really helped prevent anything though.

I took two steps (I think) out the door and the next thing I knew, I was hitting the deck—literally. I barely had time to be aware of the sudden jolt of landing (on my back) when my head slammed back onto the deck and everything went black.

I’m not sure how long I was out. Not long I don’t think, but then, it’s kind of hard to tell. When I came to, everything was a little hazy, I wasn’t even aware of the rain until later realizing I was soaked. I do remember reaching up to see if the back of my head was still intact. It was!

But then, I tried to get up and that didn’t really work. I called to my wife through the still open door. She came and helped me to my feet and after a bit of effort got me back inside the house.

Once I was able to stand on my own, my wife and I went through a series of tests to see if I was physically well and of a sound mind. (I know, that last part is questionable even under the best of conditions). Among the tests of mobility, balance, ability to focus, and talk, was a memory test—long term and short term. During the memory tests, I rattled off various strings of numbers such as: my driver’s license number, social security number, bank account number, etc. This turned out to be a useless endeavor though, since my wife had no idea if the numbers were right. So, I recited HER social security number to which she replied, “I think that’s it.”

“Really?” I said. “Whose memory are we testing here?”

We finally decided I was fine—sort of. My memory was okay and after regaining my wits after waking up from the fall, there seemed to be nothing amiss. Thankfully, there were no broken bones—as far as I could tell. But I did seem to have a lot of pain, which only worsened when I moved. For the next several days, the pain continued—every bone and muscle in my body was sore. Everything except my head. Strangely, that didn’t hurt at all. But then, everyone already knew I was hard headed! ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________

RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB

Current Reads

 

 

Roses Are Red, And Orange, White, Yellow, Purple, And…

I like roses. Lots of roses with a lot of colors. And since long ago my wife told me that buying her roses was a waste of money (because they die), I “invested” in rose bushes for the house. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the front of our house is lined with rose bushes—twenty-two to be exact. These used to make almost a solid hedge of hundreds of different colored roses. Sadly, after eighteen years, some of the bushes are not producing like they once did. This leaves big gaps with no flowers, which doesn’t look good at all.

So, this year, I decided to replace them. Originally, when I put them in, it wasn’t that much work. And at $1.99 per rose bush, not that expensive either. Ah, but things change.

First, I made a trip to the store and promptly came down with a bad case of sticker shock. I know we’re told there has been virtually no inflation for the last couple of decades but the roses tell quite a different story. They were on sale and still $5.99 each. I quickly made the decision to replace only the worst bushes and save the rest for later. I ended up buying only nine.

Then, on Sunday afternoon I started digging out the old bushes. It didn’t take long to realize it would be a little longer job than I had anticipated. The roots were six to eight inches in diameter and being underground, I didn’t really want to use a Sawzall. So, I chipped away at them with a spade shovel.

Five hours later, I was done. The new bushes set and the yard cleaned up. And only two blisters on my hands! Not bad but I had planned on maybe an hour for the whole job. Although, that’s typically what happens when I schedule time for anything—it always takes longer. Usually not five times longer though. And now, I’m a little tired. Not used to all this manual labor stuff!

But, the job is done now and even looks pretty decent. Soon, with the help of Miracle Grow, we’ll have our hedge of colorful roses back. At least that’s the idea. The bad news is, I still have several bushes to replace. The good news is, not until next year! ~

 

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________

RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB

Current Reads