Saturday, June 17, 2017






Mama’s Coffee Pot

      By Deborah J Lindsey

“I don’t know what to write.”  Gwen said and frowned at the blank computer screen.

She walked into her tiny pink and white kitchen and pulled a mug from the cabinet.  She also took down a box of coffee that held fifty neatly packaged individual servings. She popped one in the machine and pulled down the handle.  The machine protested only a moment before it hissed and gurgled out a perfect cup of “Bernardo’s Best Breakfast Blend”.  Gwen removed the cup from the machine and lifted it to her lips.  Before taking a sip, she allowed the heady aroma to fill her nostrils. 

To her, it was the fresh smell of morning and the promise of a brand-new day and it reminded her of Mama.

Memories took hold and Gwen was back making coffee in the tiny pink and white kitchen on Vermont Street. She knew Mama lay in the darkness, smiling and listening to her coffee making efforts and as soon as the coffee aroma reached her, Mama and her smile would appear in the doorway.

In those long-ago days, Gwen could brew coffee but was not allowed to drink it for it was considered too strong for children.   Mama made what she called “kid’s coffee” which was mostly milk and sugar with a hint of coffee to flavor.  Even though it wasn’t the real thing, Gwen loved it and the time drinking “coffee” with Mama was a special time that they alone shared.

 Gwen remembered learning to make coffee in the new electric percolator and how proud she was when she finally mastered it.

Mama kept her coffee pot on what she called a “Coffee Service.”  It was just a plastic tray with two ivy-patterned china cups, a cut-glass sugar bowl and a black and white spotted cow that poured cream from its mouth.

The pot itself was gleaming stainless-steel with an elegant fluted spout and a top with a clear glass dome in the lid.   This all set on a black base with a caution that warned in gold letters-
                                                         “Do Not Immerse.”

 Gwen filled the pot with water and carefully measured out coffee from the ceramic canister with the strawberries twinning on the front.  Into the metal basket, she counted - two-four-six-eight-ten-twelve and one more scoop for the pot, Mama always said. Then she placed the top on the basket and maneuvered the entire set-up into the center well at the bottom of the pot.  She added the top and pressed it firmly in place.

Gwen waited for the familiar whoosh and groan as the water was sucked up through the metal tube and filtered back down through the dry coffee.

Gwen took her first sip of coffee.  The space in the doorway was empty and the coffee tasted bitter on her tongue.


                                                                                             Copyright June 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey


First line prompt for 6/17/17: I don't know what to write.

The Matched Set

         The Matched Set
                -Testimony-

             By Deborah J Lindsey


Does God know how much money you have and can He tell someone else?

The answer is ABSOLUTELY!


Thirty-Four years ago, I was a new Mom with many diapers.  Yes, the kind you
re-use.  Imagine that?  We had just moved into a different rental house and there was no washer or dryer.

One morning, David and I found ourselves parked outside the used appliance store.  We sat in the car and figured up how much we could spend.  We hoped it would be enough for a washing machine.  We were not even considering a dryer at this point.

Inside the store, we started to look at the available washers.  Almost Immediately, the salesman began to direct us to the matched sets. We didn’t think that was an option, so we resisted.

After a while however, we relented and started looking at the sets.  There were no prices listed anywhere but we were quite sure the sets were too expensive for us.


“How much for the pair?”  David finally asked.


To our amazement, the cost of the pair was the exact amount we had counted out while sitting in the car outside the store.

Not only did God know exactly how much money we had!  He let the salesman know as well!

 

 

We serve a Mighty God Who gives good gifts to His Children. He is more than able to supply our every need.

 

                                                     C Copyright June 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey   

 


Philippians 4:19King James Version (KJV)

19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

 



Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Happy 34th Birthday Silas


Every year about this time, I dig out my old handwritten journal and remind myself about the wonderful blessings of our Lord and the great miracle He gave us-Silas. Silas weighed 12-10 . His birth was difficult, Worst that could be, the Dr said. Silas was without a heart beat 10+ minutes,,His apgar score was 3 at 10 minutes. Normal babies are born with a score of 7 and that number increases quickly. Drs came and told us.. "Hr will never be a normal child. He will be little more than a vegetable. and that is IF he lives and we don't think he will." I didn't believe them and told them so and they thought I was just under the influence of the drugs and didn't understand what they were telling me but I wasn't and I understood exactly what they were saying. Well. he did live and I am so happy today to report after many struggles with life,

 today,
he is a true Christian Believer and that is worth more that all the gold in the world. So happy Birthday Silas!

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Bamboozled



Bamboozled
By Deborah J Lindsey

“Honey, I’m afraid you’ve been bamboozled.  Ed Shanks is nothing more than a “hot air artist.”  He’s not going to marry you and walking the coral fence without falling really doesn’t qualify as gymnastics.”

Sixteen-year-old Marney looked full into her Mama’s care worn face. “Mamas’ as old as the ark and twice as dreary.”  She thought. Ed was “going places” and he promised to take me. “Mama just didn’t like him because he was a yank.”

Mama reached out to touch her daughter but Marney shook her hand away and turned her back.  She certainty wasn’t in the mood to listen to Mama quote some parable about a seed sower or some such rot.  Hadn’t she heard that stuff every day of her life? 

Marney huffed her way back to the farmhouse.  She climbed the stairs to her room and took out a small suitcase from the closet. She pulled a few items from the chest and then remembered Grandma’s lucky coin. It wasn’t a rare coin or worth anything more than just face value but Grandma said it was lucky and that was good enough.  Marney took the coin, tossed it in the air for the flip- “heads” she left- “tails” she stayed. 

It was “heads.”

Marney started to pack in earnest. She was surprised by the hot tears that stung her cheeks.  Marney looked at the dolls that sat on the window sill.  They seemed to to mock her with “I told you so” eyes.


“Mama doesn’t know anything! 
She’s wrong! 
Ed isn’t a “hot air artist”!  He’s afraid of heights! He’d never even go near a hot air balloon.”

Marney smiled, Ed was a long-haul trucker who drove a reefer cross country.   He wore a fedora like Indiana jones and he loved her. 

“He will marry me.”  Marney whispered.

She looked at her dolls again and wondered which one would like to go.  She chose the one with the Olympic Medal. 


                                                  C Copyright June 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey

6/6/17 Word List Prompt
Write what ever you want, about 200-500 words. You have to use the following words: (You can change tense, make it plural, etc., as long as the root word is there.)
reef
coin
bamboozle
fedora
dreary
ark
gymnastics
yank
seed

Monday, June 5, 2017

Breathing is Optional

6/5 dialogue prompt. No speech tags. Nothing. Just the conversation.
"Breathing is optional, you know."


Breathing is Optional
       By Deborah J Lindsey

“Breathing is optional, you know.”

“What do you mean, “Breathing is optional?
What kind of test is this?
I thought I was here for a chest X-ray?

I am completely calm! I just want some answers!
No!, I’m not signing anything!

OK, I am calm and I am reading your paperwork but who is this Doctor? I’ve never even heard of him?

Ok, let me get this straight. This Doctor, Edmund A. Qak is in a partnership with my regular primary physician and it is he who has authorized this test?

I’m sorry, how can I not laugh at the name? Surely, that isn’t his real name?

OK, I’ve signed giving permission for this “Qak” to perform the test.
Billing? Why do I need to talk to the Billing department?
Yes, you have all my cards-Medicare parts ABCDEFG and P and my supplemental coverage card. 

I have a library card. Do you need that as well?

No, I’m not a violent person as a rule but I am missing my morning coffee.

Oh Really! The pre-test instructions stated I was to be fasting after midnight.

Of course, I’m sure. See, here it is- plain black and white.

All-right then, bring me a cup of coffee please.
For staff only, huh? Why am I not surprised?

Ok, can we proceed?"

“Stand still please. Breathing is optional.”

C Copyright by Deborah J Lindsey May 2017

One of my favorite writing prompts-Dialog with no qualifiers!  Fun!


Saturday, June 3, 2017

Welcome Naomi Rose

May 6 2017

Welcome Naomi Rose

Daggers!

Went to an even tonight...someone there hated  me so much.  Felt like tiny daggers piercing my skin.  Hatred is such an evil thing.  I don't think I've ever hatred that  strong.  How sad.  For I would have greeted her with love.  I'm so sorry. I pay the Lord help her.

Friday, June 2, 2017

Cancer Free

and on a personal note, todays' colonscopy was perfect..  2 years cancer free. Thank You Lord~

Friday, May 19, 2017

Acrostic




(Acrostic*  (a poem, word puzzle, or other composition in with certain letter in each line form a word or sentence.)

ACROSTIC

By Deborah J Lindsey


“TUNDRA”
Time Unveiled Nature’s Desire:  Reindeer Always

Stephanie Foster smiled.   Truly, this wasn’t her best Acrostic effort but it would have to do.  She was tired.

Her thoughts wandered to Robert. He’d noted her love for puzzles when they first met 6 months ago.  The Acrostic exchange was a delightful game between them.  His words were always thought-provoking and words he knew she would have to research a bit to answer.  Her words. On the other hand, tended to be silly and fun.  Her choice today was simple-just her name, Stephanie.  She was curious to learn what he would do with it.  She thought she was falling in love with him and hoped this might offer a clue to his feelings. It was an opportunity anyway, she thought.

Stephanie glanced at the table where her pager and stethoscope lay ready for a quick retrieval.  She was on-call until 4am.  “On call” meant staying in hospital and that meant grabbing a bite to eat and a nervous nap.
She’d managed a couple of hours this shift and was thankful for a few moments to rest body and spirit.

The call room she’d been assigned to was better than most.  This one had a shower and a door that locked.  Three gray lockers ran down one side of the wall and a worn desk with a folding metal chair filled the corner.  The “bed” was nothing more than a gurney that could be pressed into service at any time.

Stephanie checked her watch, sat up and pulled her crutches into position. She made her way to the desk and flipped through her charts.  She added a notation here and there and a signature where needed then straightened the pile.

She checked her watch again, rose and tossed the salad dish into the trash.  She fished her nurse’s shoe from beneath the gurney with the tip of a crutch and pulled in near.  The other shoe stood alone- stiffly upright and permanently affixed to the flesh-colored prosthesis that served as her other limb.

She’d heard that Robert had a similar shoe.  She could certainty sympathize with him and longed to know the details but knew she would never ask. He would have to share with her in his own time. She wished that he would only trust her.

Stephanie inserted her stump into the prosthesis.  She felt the familiar gush of air as the vacuum took hold. She stood and pressed firmly seating the appliance in place. She opened her locker and stowed her night things on the shelf.  Then propped her crutches against the locker wall.  She took out a clean lab coat and pulled it over her scrubs.  A quick brush to her hair and she was out the door on her way to morning rounds and Robert.

He smiled when he saw her.

“There’s the solution to your Acrostic and my next contribution to the game.”  He winked and quietly slipped two folded notes in her hand.

It was much later in the day before she had a chance to see what
Robert had written. She pulled the notes from her pocket and lay them on the lunch table.

“Stephanie” was written on the outside of one note. She opened that one first.

STEPHANIE,
Some TImes Every Precious Heart Announces New Intentions – Enduring?


Stephanie’s heart soared.  She smiled and carefully re-folded the note.  She held it in her hand a moment and then on impulse, she put it to her lips and kissed it before returning it to her pocket.  

How could things be any better?  She thought as she reached for the remaining note.

Tears filled her eyes as she read Robert’s new Acrostic clue-
"PROSTHESIS"


C Copyright May 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey


a·cros·tic  əˈkrôstik/
noun
1.     a poem, word puzzle, or other composition in which certain letters in each line form a word or words.


This story resulted from a writing promp:

May 16 word list prompt
You know how it works. Write 300-500 words about any topic as long as you use the following words:
Salad
Shoe
foster
sympathize
tundra
spirit
stethoscope



·       

Friday, April 14, 2017

The Return of The King





Return of the King*

By Deborah J Lindsey

” The King Has Returned,” Emily whispered the tittle into the room.  

She’d never been much for fantasy but this series intrigued her. She couldn’t wait to begin reading it.

“What’s that Dear?”  Agnes looked up inquiringly at her Sister as she stirred her tea.
.
“I said, “The king has returned.” 

“Was he on vacation again?  I’ll swan, these “Big Wigs” are always gone off someplace or another.

Come, sit, have some tea, won’t you?”

Agnes removed the cozy from the pot and began to pour the steaming liquid into a delicate rose patterned cup. Her blue-veined hands trembled slightly with jerky movements, but she finally managed to fill the cup.

“Honey? Lemon?  Just the thing for your sore throat.”  Agnes smiled and held out a plate to her sister.
.
Emily accepted the plate then sat it down again.  The lemons were unevenly sliced-one side thin, the other thick. 

“Honey?”

“No, thanks.”   Emily smiled.

The honey was a sticky plastic bear with a squeeze top.


How did we get so old? Emily wondered. 

A gentle breeze waltzed in from the open window causing the curtains to billow.  Emily watched the dust particles dance in the air then fall like misty fluffs of fine white dandruff. 

The hired girl would have to go.  She was just plain lazy. Truth be told, she probably watched while poor Agnes struggled to slice those lemons. 

Emily took a sip of tea then set the cup down again to float in an Earl Grey saucer sea.

She sighed and wished she lived in a utopia- somewhere like The Shire. She thought   she would very much enjoy living in a quaint Hobbit House.

C Copyright April, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey


*Return of the King* 
(The Return of the King is the third and final volume of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, )




Choose your own combo prompt for 4/13/2017:
choose 3 or more
A>  First line :"The king has returned!"
B> Genre : Fantasy

C> Situation : an Argument
D> Dialog only
E> Must use the following words: vacation, lazy, utopia, dandruff, sore throat, tea, jerky
F> Most not use the words: royalty, sovereign, usurper, duke, crown, thrown, magic sword.



Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Double Dog Dare





Double Dog Dare

By Deborah J Lindsey


“I double-dog-dare-ya!”  The challenge was issued and could not be denied.  A mob of 10-year-olds encircled me and I could see more coming.  The older ones nearby took interest and were advancing in quick-step.

“Jump! Jump!”  voices chanted.
 I was old Now, how could I manage?

The ropes beat a rhythm on the pavement and seemed to drum remembered skills into my brain.

Hot Pepper!  Double-Dutch!

Then with nothing left to do, I jumped.

                                                                  C Copyright April. 2017 by Deborah  J Lindsey


Last Line Prompt:  with nothing left to do, I jumped.





Monday, April 10, 2017

"Elementary, My Deaar Watson"

4/10 Word List Prompt
Write what ever you want. About 300-500 words. You must use these words (of note, you may change the tense.)
Croak 
Tiger
Chartreuse 
Tweet
Sunday 
Disgruntled
Elementary 
Oil

“Elementary, My Dear Watson”
    By Deborah J Lindsey


My real name is Sue Watson.  Online, I’m “Sweet Sue”. Tweeting is new but so far, my witty posts haven’t generated followers.  Well, I do have three- a car dealership in Florida. a time-share venture, and some guy who calls himself, “Ed, the Sheep-Shearer.” 

I don’t want millions-just a couple of hundred and they only need pretend to like my stories.

Writers MUST have feed-back!  We crave it!  It’s butter for our bread, oil for our vinegar, and looney for our tune!

Finally, I became so distressed, I changed my name to “Disgruntled Tweeter.”


Sunday was my day of rest but Monday morning, I logged in early to check for results.


Followers equaled seven! 


The same three were listed, of course and there was a message from Ed asking if I was allergic to wool.  I didn’t reply but went straight to the new ones. 


“Melon-Collie”?   Perhaps, a sad famer who grew melons and loved big dogs?  Click.

 “Ed, the Sheep Shearer 2”.  He included his phone number. Click.

“Cat Lady Blanche” with a dozen smiling cats.  Click.

The Final posting was from ”Chartreuse  Tiger”.  I was intrigued!  Chartreuse was spelled correctly and that didn’t happen often.  His page was full of tigers and old-fashioned greeting cards.  I especially liked a card with a google-eyed frog holding a large red heart.  The caption read, “Don’t Make Me Croak!  Be My Valentine”.  I was smiling by the time I reached his favorite quote and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw it.  It read 

ElementaryMy Dear Watson”.

C Copyright April. 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey 







Saturday, March 4, 2017

The Jordan River


The Jordan River
By Deborah J Lindsey

"Why did you bring us to the river?!"

“It’s a river isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but this is the Jordan River.   We only come here for baptisms and such.”

“That’s correct enough, Brother Bethel.”

“But this here is “horror-suspense” writing week.  You just can’t jump in with gospels and church doings.”

“Brother Bethel, Good People of Batesville, be it known this day, I am a-jumping in- and I am a-jumping in with both feet.”

“Go on Preacher, jump in!  I’d love to see ya soppin’ wet!”

“Shall we sing?
 Yes, we’ll gather at the river-the beautiful-beautiful-riv-ev-er -gather on…”

“Hey, stop that!  This ain’t no camp meetin’.”

“Brother Mac, I’m surprised.  I thought you loved singing with that healthy baritone of yours.  We all love it, don’t we, folks?”

“Now, Preacher, you’re confusing this whole business.  We can’t be singing in a writing promp, it’s impossible.”

“well, we’re all here and there’s the river.  That is the promp, it not?  What’s your problem, Brother?”

“The prompt was supposed to be “Horror and Suspense” themed using the line, "Why did you bring us to the river? "

“Well, Old HenryThacker lost two mules and a hitch last summer when the Jordan flooded-that was pure horror!  Watching them mules strangle to death-took more than twenty minutes, so I heared.  Why, even Leon Todd started making book on ‘em. We was all in real suspense-not knowing which one would go down first.”

“Brothers! 
Sister!
(Thank you, Sister for joining us.)

Let us consider this Jordan River.  It is the river of Elijah.  It is the river of Elisha. Why, “crossing Jordan” symbolizes crossing out of this life into the “Promised Land”. This Jordan means, “death.”

“Well, it sure was death for them mules!”

“C’mon Folks, let’s get out of here before the skeeters start
To swarm.”


“Yeah, let’s go.  The next prompt is “Protest and Mind Control” themed using the line, “Why did you bring us to this Protest?”

C Copyright March, 2017 By Deborah J Lindsey

3/3/17 - Writing prompt (Remember - it's horror/suspense week) Dialogue only prompt:
"Why did you bring us to the river?!"










Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Small Talk

Cinderella and Snow White glared at each other. (First line writing prompt)

Small Talk

By Deborah J Lindsey

Cinderella and Snow White glared at each other.
Cinderella took a dainty sip of tea being sure to point her pinky.  She flounced her flounces and smiled sweetly at her guest.

Snow White was such a uppityy-up!  I don’t know why I invited her to tea.  But Cinderella knew why-she wanted to see if Snow White had aged after her long sleep. Cindy could find no trace and she had looked very carefully.  Snow looked just as pert and proper as she had when they were children together in the same story book.

Snow was sizing up her rival too and she wondered if Cindy had baked these raspberry scones herself, No, she finally decided.  She had heard the mice stayed on even after her marriage. She’d heard too that she and the Prince dinned on pumpkin a lot but that was probably just a wild rumor.

“You know Snow, I got these ruby slippers off a good fairy and they are very clickable.”  Cindy stood and clicked the heels together to illustrate her point.  Snow noticed the ruby was wearing right off the slip.  Apparently, Cindy was too fond of demonstrating them and had clicked too many times.

Snow sneered at Cin.  “Well, my slippers are made of fine bear skin and have served me well for more than a thousand years.”

“Well, I’m surprised you even wear foot attire living out in the wilds as you do and your living arrangements leave much to be desired.”

“who has questioned my past?  I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

C. grinned an evil grin.  “And how is that fruit company you and your Prince invested in?  Does it prosper?  Apples. Wasn’t it?”

Snow stood up indignantly and prepared to take her leave.

“Thanks for tea C.  Oh, you do recall my story is fifteen pages longer than yours!”

“Well, that’s only because you slept so long.”
C flashed a wicked smile.

“At least my Prince came to find me.  I didn’t have to trap him with see-through slippers.  Glass, weren’t they? Easily broken as I recall.  Oh, you might want to tell your mice cooks, the scones need more fruit.”

**I refuse to apologize for the ruby slippers.  Writers prerogative. J


The Storm Baby

2/13
Description Prompt 
Describe weather you've never seen before. You can make up a new meteorological disaster if you prefer. For example, I've never seen a tsunami or it could rain cats and dogs.


The Storm Baby


By Deborah J Lindsey


“Cassie! Cassie!”  Mama hollered from the back door. Cassie heard Mama perfectly well and she sounded mad. Cassie kept her seat on “Mermaid’s Rock” a few minutes more. Then she closed her book, stood up and looked around.  Something was different. The sun had completely disappeared and now dark clouds were building up in the west. The birds hushed and all of nature was stilled.  The sudden quiet was loud and ominous in Cassie’s ears.

Mama’s voice came again but this time it wasn’t one of anger but frustration and fear. The thunder boomed as Cassie scrambled up the hill from the creek.  

“Hurry Girl, it’s coming up a storm.  Fetch your brothers and I’ll get Grandma.” 

Cassie knew the drill.  She took the hands of the four-year-old twins and headed out the door. Peter, as usual came along without a fuss but Paul, as was his usual, giggled and tugged at the hand that held him.

“Come on Paul! You want to get blowed clean off this place?” Cassie yelled into the little boy’s ear as she attempted to draw him closer to her.

One glance about him was all it took for Paul. his antics ceased and he sent his small feet flying up the path that led to the root cellar. Storms were taken seriously even by the very young in Orion, Oklahoma- “Tornado Alley” some called it.

Cassie struggled hard against the wind that held the heavy wooden doors shut. At last, she managed to get them open and was down the rail ladder in an instant. The twins tumbled in after her and she led them to a place in the back.  She lit a kerosene lamp took down a quilt from the shelf, and tucked it around the little boys Shoulders. 

The root cellar was a lovely place for Cassie.  She spent many hours dreaming and pretending among the fall apples, hanging onions and rows of summer’s harvest neatly packed in jars.

Mama and Grandma were suddenly at the door with their aprons flapping violently in the wind.  Mama helped the frail woman down the stair and guided her to a low stool near the boys. 

“My baby! Oh, my baby. My baby.” 

Grandma began to rock and moan as old memories swept over her.  She had lost a baby during one of these twisters.  The baby had been snatched right out of her arms. His tiny body was found days later and miles away caught in the fork of a tree.  Grandma had never been quite the same since that time and storms as this one, bought it all back to her.

“Where’s the storm baby, Cassie?  Quick, help me look.” Mama shouted over the roar of the wind.
The storm baby was kept in the root cellar for just this type of emergency.  It was the only thing that calmed and comforted Grandma until the storm passed.

“Where’s the storm baby, Cassie?”  Mama asked again frantically searching.

Cassie knew exactly where the storm baby was. 
He was wrapped in his little blue blanket lying in the tall grass by the creek. Cassie had been pretending the story of Moses in the Bull-rush.

© Copyright February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey



  …Ella looked happily at the darkening sky.  She pulled on her new red rain boots and twirled her new red and white polka-dot umbrella.  She hoped this storm wouldn’t be a “duck-drowner”.  She loved all creatures and wouldn’t want any ducks hurt…


Sorry about Ella.  She slipped in and refused to leave even after I admired her new rain gear. DJL