Hello!
Why are the kids sick again? I'm actually asking. We just got past the icky virus a week ago, so what's up with the underage yuck in our house again today? And, yes, I am asking these questions as my hubby hits the first recovery day of the cold he's had all week... I'm not sure where my better half picked up this latest virus, usually the kids bring the illnesses home from school and he and I get sick after they do. (Our previous neighbor was a teacher for grade three and grade four students, and lovingly referred to her classroom as a petri dish.) So far I haven't started on symptoms yet. Do you think this cold would skip me if I hid all weekend? No? Well... humph. It was worth asking lol. It was my birthday last week and I'm now officially 40. Maybe strange to a lot of people, but I was legitimately excited for this birthday, and I actually enjoyed the day. That's likely due in a large part to my current circle of people being awesome and there was no worry this year about anyone attempting to "make the birthday special". No surprises, no forced large-scale socializing, no expensive outings, just a nice day and some well wishes and a lot of smiles. I even ended up with a migraine in the evening, and my good mood remained while hiding in a dark room on enough pain medication to know I was completely unfit to operate heavy machinery. For the writing side of things... depression and anxiety are still steadily eating away at my creativity. I've been able to thumb my nose at them and get some editing done, but this week hasn't been great. It really would be lovely to have a switch where my internal Voice of Can't can be shut off. At the very least, a volume knob that could be installed so I can turn it down. This week, rather than writing, I often changed the internal radio station to the channel for hanging out with kids and working on things to help out family. For the writing side, getting editing done works for me, for now. For the knitting side, I figured out how to read a pattern! Not just a knit stitch / purl stitch beginner's pattern, but one with slip stitches and pretty shapes! Not cording yet, or double knitting, I'm just entering into the medium-difficulty range. The hard stuff still confuses the heck out of me lol. Hope you have a great weekend! 1. A Very Nice Hole
“Oh good. You bought a hole.” Terry was less than impressed, if the look on her face and the tone of her voice could be used as gauges.
“A mine, yes. One that was recently abandoned for mining and is up to the latest safety codes.” Dillan ignored his sister’s lack of excitement, he was easily excited enough for both of them. “Great. Instead of just any hole, it’s a large one. Good investment for your half of the inheritance.” She covered her face with her hands in a way only ever used to hide rampant disappointment. “I did actually put in a lot of research on this, and the company I bought it from is interested in investing in my idea.” “If?” she asked. “If what?” “You bought something they didn’t want anymore, so their interest is only there if…?” Dillan laughed. “No ‘if’ this time. They’re legit interested. I just need one more investor to make it work.” “Oh, for… this is why I’m standing in front of a gate on a dead-end road? You want my half of the inheritance to sink into your hole?” “That sounded really naughty,” he said, smirking. She smacked him in the back of the head, just like when they’d been kids, and he laughed as hard as he would have at thirteen. “Come on, at least let me show you what I’m planning before you decide to write me off.” The keys jingled as he took them from his jacket pocket and shook out the one he needed from the rest on the ring. The lock clicking open echoed through the metal tubing it was built into and then Dillan pulled the gate just far enough for both of them to walk through. “If you throw me off a cliff in there, I’m haunting you like a poltergeist.” “There are no cliffs, and the river exposures are covered with steel mesh so I can’t drown you either,” he said, holding out a flashlight to her. “Besides, Doug should be your beneficiary by now. You guys have been married long enough that I doubt I’d get anything.” “True,” she admitted, taking the high-powered light with a sigh. Dillan beamed a thousand watt smile at her for even considering looking at his latest innovation, and she glared back at him with twenty years of experience behind each of his previous ideas barely keeping him financially independent. None of his ideas had failed, really, but none had ever taken off well enough to individually support him the way that he’d imagined. Unfortunately, his unsinkable optimism about every new idea based on the partial successes of his previous ones persisted. That meant Terry got dragged along for the journey with him on at least half. Having an engaging, excitable, and charming little brother could be a pain in the ass. However, she’d never suffered from being convinced to invest. At least with the risks he took, she always got her money back. At least, that’s how it’s been in the past, she thought, dubiously shining the beam of the flashlight around at the tunnel entrance. “Okay, so you know, this place is completely safe. It was rated as bomb shelter approved by the city in event of emergencies, and the company I bought it from had been renting some of the higher rooms as secure file storage before deciding to sell.” “That’s comforting,” Terry replied, not at all comforted at the thought of going underground. Dillan clicked on his flashlight and shone it toward a specific point, searching that area of the wall for a moment. The switch-box and connected cabling looked like some kind of strange, mechanical spider bolted to the cut stone. “As well,” he said, walking over to the switch box. “I called the power company last week just after I took possession.” He pulled all the levers, one at a time, and bright LED lights flared to life along the tunnel. Dillan clicked off his flashlight and smiled at his big sister. “The lights only extend to the rooms used for file storage, but that’s only how far we have to go. I have a map in case you want to check out more, though.” The dark intimidation of the spacious tunnel evaporated under the lights. Terry clicked off her flashlight and followed her brother deeper into the mine. He babbled about rooms and pillars, ventilation, a main shaft, and what he called staired levels (because he couldn’t remember the actual term) as they went. The lit rooms that had been rented for file storage still contained tables and chairs which Dillan had purchased along with the mine. Scrapes on the floors showed where the file cabinets had been. The rooms were a great deal larger than Terry had expected and, despite being underground and humid, the environment was comfortably cool and felt unrestricted. They turned into the last room that had lighting, the tunnel continuing darkly away into complete shadow. Rather than bare furniture, these tables were covered with paperwork. “Welcome to my orifice,” Dillan said, gesturing widely for Terry to walk with him toward the nearest table.
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AManda FLIEDERA weekly blog updating on Fridays with quick personal blurbs about me, as in what's going on during my life as an Author and mom, and that doles out my short stories and novellas in bite-sized parts for everyone to read for free! Archives
January 2023
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