Visiting the Past

So, we started our vacation with a broken water line. Yep, as I mentioned in my last post, the main water line was leaking.

Which meant we turned off the water most of the time. We bailed water out of the pool to flush the toilets and used bowls and pitchers of water for hand washing. Don’t get me wrong, I was thankful to have water so close to my house. Fun Facts: most folks in the world spend hours a day searching for water and more than half the people hospitalized are from water borne diseases.

I am lucky, even if inconvenienced.

My Friday, instead of writing, I cleared away the rock, pavers, and weed barrier to see how bad the leak was.


All the way to the pas the hose bib, which was about 50 feet.

And that was the easy part. The hubbinator became a mud dog on Saturday. He had to hand dig out the protoquicksand that the yard had begun because right next to it was our electric service line, cable service line, and heaven only knew what.


We called the blue stake folks and hope to have someone out tomorrow to mark the lines so we can dig up the rest of the line and replace it. We were not happy to see the water line dip to nearly 30 inches below the grade. Really? We live in Phoenix, Arizona. Freezing is not an issue here.

But we did have a bit of luck. Seems the morons who replaced our line with 8 foot sections of glued together irrigation pipe (this is the second connection to fail this summer), didn’t yank out all the copper piping. We found one end that our plumber was able to attach the new line to.


After the utilities are marked we’ll trench to the hose bib and find the other end of the copper line and we hope to never, ever have this problem again (at least in this house).

Until next time!

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What’s That?

Yesterday, the hubbinator and i went out to pick up gyros for dinner. When we returned, there was this sparkly thing lying near our garbage can.

I asked him if he’d broken a mirror.

He looked at me blankly.

Thinking that one of our children might have done so without telling us, I walked over.

And what did I discover?

A puddle of water. Soaked pavers. And squishy ground.

The main line coming into the house is having issues, so we’ll be spending our weekend moving rock, digging, and praying we don’t have to bust up concrete to get to the rest of the water line at the main under the RV pad.

Fun times again.

Here’s hoping you have more exciting things on your weekend schedule.

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Don’t Sit So Close to a Writer

I had to have a long talk with the hubbinator on Friday. I went to lunch with a bunch of other writers. When asked what I was writing, I happened to mention how angry I was and how I was looking for ways to destroy the world. 

Great exercise for a writer.

As I expanded at length of the marvels of anthrax, I realized not everyone would appreciate the fact that I was a writer and talking fiction. Past fiction, actually. I’d already used anthrax in the Redaction series.

Been there; done that.

I have new ways to destroy the world in the works (provided I get the butt in the chair and write instead of playing games or watching Netflix).

But, there may have been a few concerned folks who reported the crazy lady at the restaurant, traced me via my credit card receipt, and knocked on my door. Hence the talk with hubbinator.

He just shook his head.

Life is fun until the cops show up:D

Rest assured, I may be mad. I may be a scientist, but I have no plans to bring on the apocalypse outside of a book. Pinky swear.

Until next time.

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Consulting an Expert

I am a knowledge junkie. At least that’s what I tell myself when I buy that new book when I have hundreds waiting to be read. So, it is nice when a site feeds my addiction without tapping into my wallet. Enter

It’s hardly a new site and this isn’t the first time I mentioned it on my blog. I try to listen to 2 talks a day on subjects that aren’t in my scientific arena.

Recently, one talk in particular caught my attention. It talked about how children born into poverty will likely stay that way and yet, with major help from the parents 50% can rise above their circumstances.

The reason it resonated so loudly with me is because a friend and I often talk about the subject. She has 3 adopted children which she took in while two of them were over 9. Of those 2—1 is in prison, and 1 just got out of jail. The third is struggling to achieve any sense of what most middle class folks would call normalcy.

At what point does nature trump nurture? At what point does nurture no longer matter?

For those people who think folks should be able to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make something of themselves (like me), that doesn’t seem possible. Still, there were threads of hope in the talk. If only because, should we as a society chose to invest our money in people, every generation the number of children in poverty could be reduced significantly.

Here’s the talk. Tell me what you think after you’ve watched it.


Until next time.


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No Pumpkin Spice For You

I went to a meeting today at a local restaurant. Being that it is fall, I was in the mood for something pumpkiny. Anything pumpkiny. So after ordering my salad and bread, I saw it.

A Pumpkin cookie.

Shaped like a pumpkin. Colored like a pumpkin. I could practically taste the pumpkin.

So I ordered it.

I was allowed to take the cookie with me to the table. And like I was trained by my mother, I waited for my soup and bread to eat first.

No, I didn’t eat the cookie. I may have petted it through the paper sleeve, just to make sure it didn’t get lost on its way to my belly.

Finally, I finished my soup and bread then broke a piece off the cookie. And bite into it.

I was robbed!

I expected Pumpkin spice and got sugar cookie. Ordinarily, I love sugar cookies. But I wanted pumpkin! Now, I’ll be buying pumpkin snaps from Sprouts but I have to wait until the weekend.

Well, I won’t be doing that again.

Until next time.


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It Ain’t Over

SmashwordsUntil I say. Well, my book series aren’t over until I write ‘the end.’

Which is why I found it odd that I’ve received 2 emails in the last weeks that asked why I ended the Hadean series with so many loose threads.

Um, the series isn’t over. Not by a long shot. There will be 3 or 4 more books before we bid Drew, Dogooder, Ellen and the gang farewell.

But I have research to do before I begin the next book. Lots of research. I remain hopeful I will find my will to write before the end of this year, so I can have Hadean 4 out next summer.

In the meantime, I’m taking longer to write a book then I did when I first started writing. Not cool.

But, I just wanted to reassure everyone, there are more stories coming. The death toll will mount. Solutions will be given. And debts will come due.

So subscribe to my newsletter or follow my author page on amazon to stay tuned for the next adventure. After I finish this book that’s way overdue to my publisher, I think I’m gonna go on a killing spree. Only in pages, though. It will be a new series, because I need a distraction. It’s hard to torture characters you love.

Until next time.

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Well, That Didn’t Go as Planned, Part 2 (tales of a haircut)

To add to the weekend fun, I decided to cut the hubbinator’s hair this weekend. No, that isn’t the horror in the story. I’ve cut his hair. Just don’t look at the back. He moved as I was shaving his neck. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

Either way, he’s happy that I cut his hair. He has low standards and simple tastes, and I have a 70 year old electric razor. 

Or I did.

Halfway through cutting his hair, the razor died. Kaput. Nothing. 

We tried to find our son’s groomer but didn’t, although we did text him to ask where it was. And heard nothing. Finally, we went on line to see what razors for hair cutting were available. Sadly, Walmart had the best options and, we kept to the same brand, because… 70 years. We’ll give it to our children when we die. Gotta leave them something:D.

Of course, once it became clear that Walmart was the place to go, the hubbinator flatly refused to go. Okay, he did offer to drive but only if he could wait in the car. He wasn’t going to be part of the shoppers of Walmart meme for his freakish hair cut.

I went alone. Found the brand and one with a strong enough motor to cut hair not just trim beards, mustaches, and nose hair (ew). And since I was there, I made a side trip to the chips aisle to buy the hot version my daughter loves then went to try my odds with the 3 check out lanes open. I picked the one closest to the door, with the requirements of less than three handfuls of items, and was promptly serenaded by the man behind me by a unique rendition of 20000 bottles of beer on the wall and another Walmart employee fired.

There’s a story there. But I don’t want to know it.

Until next time!

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