The Other Woman

The Other Woman

There she was, Amy Gerstein, over by the pool, kissing my father. My mother had only been dead for two years. Who did this woman think she was trying to worm her way into our family? What was my father thinking? Didn't he love my mother? I looked away, filled with anger and grief. Two years didn't heal the pain of losing a mother. Watching them, I felt like he was cheating on his spouse. And it wasn't the first time. I couldn't stand the last woman he'd dated either. That's why I always secretly sabotaged his relationships. It had only taken two weeks to get rid of the last woman, but this time would be much harder. He seemed to like this one a lot more. I needed a good plan. I needed to dig up some dirt on Amy.

After a lot of searching on the Internet I found an interesting tidbit. Amy had an ex-husband who was a drunk. I had to track down this Mr. Gerstein and learn more. I found him in the Terminal Bar and Grill. He was sober, for a change. I played it cool as I walked up to him and started a conversation. I had to use my fake ID to get in. It wasn't hard to get him to talk. I was good at manipulating people to get what I wanted. When I found out he still wanted Amy and what a jealous man he was it only took a few well chosen thoughts planted in his head. He was putty in my hands.

A few days later Amy disappeared. My father, distraught, reported her missing. The police searched for weeks. They finally found her body buried in her ex-husband's back yard. She had been strangled.

After a lengthy trial Mr. Gerstein was convicted of murder. I had attended the trial, and even testified. As they led him away, I allowed myself a small smile. Amy was gone. No one would ever know the part I had played.

This is another Writer's Toolbox story.The sticks I drew were:
1. There she was, Amy Gerstein, over by the pool, kissing my father.
2. Watching them, I felt like he was cheating on his spouse. And it wasn't the first time.
3. I found him in the Terminal Bar and Grill. He was sober, for a change.

The Exotic Dancer

My sister has a game called The Writer's Toolbox Game. The object of the game is to write a short story. At the beginning of the game, each player draws a stick with a sentence on it. That is the first sentence of our story. We write for 3 minutes, then draw another stick which is used to continue the story. We write for 3 more minutes, then draw another stick, and have 3 minutes to finish the story. All sticks are drawn randomly. At the end we read our stories. The results can be funny or interesting. This is my story.

The Exotic Dancer

After only two months, Helen decided to become an exotic dancer. The previous two months she had tried River dance but it was too rigid having to keep her upper body stiff while only moving her legs. Her whole body wanted to move. She kept messing up the neat line of River dancers. There they were in perfect unison tapping out a complex rhythm and she would throw it off with her added arm movements and wiggles. Her fellow dancers complained and her dance instructor recommended she learn another style of dance. Exotic dancing sounded interesting. She didn't know anything about it. She assumed it was a dance that came from a tropical place, like Hawaii.

Imagine her surprise the first day she walked into her exotic dance class. On Tuesday, she asked her new dance teacher a most peculiar question. "What is this pole for? Is it for those who don't have a dance partner?"

Her teacher gave her a funny look. She was standing behind the counter, giving her this root beer-float kind of smile. "Helen, have you ever seen someone do exotic dancing before?" her teacher asked.

"No, I had never heard of it before last week when I read it in a list of dance styles offered in a brochure. But I can learn any type of dance, don't worry. I'll work hard." Helen was afraid of being kicked out of another dance class.

A short time later Helen joined a group of other girls. She was surprised at how scantily dressed they were. At least there were no men around! The teacher called the class to order and started some music. Helen watched the other girls, not quite sure what to do. She became confused at the girls' body movements. As they removed what little clothing they were wearing Helen became shocked. She wanted no part of this. She ran out of the building with a very red face. This was not the dance for her.

The End

The 3 sticks I drew were:
1. After only two months, Helen decided to become an exotic dancer.
2. On Tuesday, she asked her teacher a most peculiar question.
3. She was standing behind the counter, giving her this root beer-float kind of smile.

My Daughter's Birthday

Today is my older daughter's 6th birthday. I am making today a special day for her. I picked out a cute outfit for her to wear to school and pinned a birthday ribbon on her shirt. She gets to eat a special lunch - a fluffer nutter sandwich and candy corn - and I put a birthday note in her lunch. She got to take a book to school for the teacher to read to the class. She took Pride and Prejudice. When she handed it to the teacher, the teacher said, "What?! If we read that it would take all day and you wouldn't get to eat lunch." Then she laughed. So my daughter handed her the other book she brought and the teacher read My Lucky Day. We are going to my parents' house for supper and cake tonight.

Most of today I am getting ready for her birthday party, which will be tomorrow. We are all excited about the party. The theme is a surprise. I will write all about it and post pictures after the party.

I am so thankful for my daughter. It has been a joy to watch her grow up. As I care for her baby sister, I have flashbacks of caring for her when she was that little. How time flies. She has grown into a beautiful, smart, vibrant little girl. She loves to draw, write, and dance. She has a sweet spirit and likes to do things for others. She adores her baby sister and is a big helper. I love her so much!

Filling the Gap

Wow. It has been a long time since I have posted anything. So much has happened since the last post. My family has moved to Pennsylvania where we bought our first home. We have a new baby daughter who is a delight. My older daughter is in 1st grade and about to turn 6 this week. She adores her baby sister. My husband got a wonderful new job allowing him to work from home, then was laid off a few months later with everyone else in the company. Now he's job hunting again. Life is uncertain, but God is in control and we can trust Him.

I Like To Move It, Move It

We're gonna move it, move it
We're gonna move it, move it
We're gonna move it, move it
We're gonna... MOVE IT!

Can't wait to move it, move it
Can't wait to move it, move it
Can't wait to move it, move it
Can't wait to... MOVE IT!

I like to move it, move it
I like to move it, move it
I like to move it, move it
We like to... MOVE IT!

It's official now. We're moving to PA! Yaaaaay!

Sir John Hawkins' Secret Treasure

For my daughter's 5th birthday we had a pirate themed party. All of the children (and some of the adults) dressed up as pirates. One of the activities was a treasure hunt. To introduce the treasure hunt to them, I made up this story.

Most of you don't know this, but I am related to a real pirate: Sir John Hawkins. He was a famous pirate, but there is something about him you won't find in any books . Sir John Hawkins had a secret; a secret treasure that he didn't tell anyone about. He didn't even tell his own crew because he wanted to keep it all for himself. To keep anyone from finding the treasure, he buried it in a place that only he knew about. Unfortunately, he never got to enjoy his treasure. Shortly before his last voyage he made a map. But he didn't want just anyone to find the treasure and was afraid the map would fall into the wrong hands. So he tore the map into several pieces and hid each piece in a different place. Then he gave one piece to his son and told him about the treasure. He said that if he could find the rest of the map he could have the treasure. His son never found the rest of the map or the treasure, so he passed his piece of the map on to his children. And so it has passed from generation to generation and finally to me. Today I am passing it on to my daughter. Maybe with your help the long lost secret treasure of Sir John Hawkins will be found. You will know when you have found a piece of the map because he hid a gold nugget with each. Each piece of the map will lead you to the next. Once you have found all the pieces, put the map back together and it will lead you to the treasure.

The treasure hunt was a huge success. There was only one snag. About halfway through the hunt I realized that the treasure had driven off. We hid the treasure in the trunk of our car and my husband had gone home briefly to grill the hotdogs. My father-in-law came to the rescue. He went and fetched back the treasure and by the end of the hunt the pirates found the treasure in the trunk of his car. The treasure was a pinata.

What's the Magic Word?

Yesterday I volunteered in my daughter's kindergarten class. I really enjoyed it. It reminded me of my old job. For the most part the children were delightful and very polite. During recess I sat at a small picnic table watching the children and chatting with them. Then I met a little boy who stood out from all the rest. He plopped down on the bench next to mine, flung his foot on the table in front of me and demanded, "Tie my shoe" in a very obnoxious voice. I was slightly taken aback by his tone after talking to all these polite children. I replied, "Excuse me? Could you ask me nicely?" He said, "No, we don't talk nicely at my house." I told him, "Well, that's not going to get you very far. People won't want to help you if you don't ask nice." He demanded several more times that I tie his shoe for him, refusing to be polite. Each time I told him that I would be glad to tie it for him when he said "please". Finally, he kind of glared at me and grudgingly said, "Please tie my shoe for me." It wasn't quite the response I was looking for but I gave him credit for for saying please and smiled at him as I tied his shoe.

I feel sorry for the rude little boy who hasn't been taught even the basics of courtesy and politeness; who lives in a place where "we don't talk nicely at my house."

Colossians 4:6 "Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man."