Me Busy?

I was looking at an Amish website awhile back and saw the cook columnist had taken the month off because she needed to help the family with home butchering. I know from my childhood that it's a big job to process a beef or hog by canning and preserving all the meat. Also, I know something about home butchering today, but I'm lucky to have plenty of freezer space.
As my week has turned hectic and my Tuesday post date came and went, I wondered how I was going to squeeze this post in this week. Did I have any excuses to measure up to the Amish cook's? First of all, we are making many trips out to the barn to check for new babies (lambs and kid goats). I had been going to bottle feed two lambs four times a day. I cut my trips down to three Monday so I didn't have the bedtime feeding. A sister- in- law had surgery last week. I offered to stay with her from 1 to 10 while my husband's brother is at work. My husband now does the dinner time bottle feeding and watches the mothers after I leave. Yesterday morning, I had a scheduled appointment at the nursing home, I used to work at, to take a lamb and baby goat in for the residents to see. I was asked several times what I do to keep busy now that I'm retired. I repeated much the same as this post. The replies were it didn't sound like I retired. After the visit, it was back home by noon, fix lunch, feed babies, and go help the sister-in-law, come home, change into chore clothes, go to barn and help new mother and babies.
With all that the exciting news is I stopped at the post office Monday and Tuesday morning with a box full of new books to send buyers. So there was packaging and email buyers those mornings. I enjoy hearing from new buyers and returned buyers that have become old friend, email pen pals in the last few years because they buy my books. My latest Amish book is the second in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series - The Rainbow's End- if you want to look for it on Amazon or ebay.
Now I promised you an excerpt from my Amazing Gracie Mystery Series - The Chance Of A Sparrow. So here is Gracie Evan trying to cope with spring fever and suddenly her prayer comes true. Oh by the way, this book and the other four in the mystery series are sold on Amazon and ebay.




Tightening her grip on the railing, Gracie climbed the church steps. In the quiet, her black, high topped shoes made a hollow tapping sound. She opened one of the double doors. The groan from the hinges echoed through the empty building, reinforcing her despair. Persistent irritation with everyone and everything that she had no power to change welled up in her.
Gracie shut the door behind her as easy as she could and proceeded up the aisle. Normally, she stayed toward the back during the service, but this time she had the whole church to herself. Best time to come when she didn't have to worry about the greeters and hand shakers getting in her way. Gracie marched down the aisle past the slick, dark pews and plopped down in the front row. That was as close as she could get. She intended to have a serious talk with God now that she had made up her mind to do so. Since he hadn't been paying much attention to her concerns lately, she wondered if it was because he had become hard of hearing over the years. She sympathized with him. If she felt old, think how old God must feel.
Gracie twisted to face the simple, unadorned cross above the pulpit. She smoothed her
braids, then clasped her hands together and licked her lips. Inhaling deeply, she began, "God, I've had plenty of time to give some thought to how things work in life. Don't mean to complain, mind you." She paused a minute. It occurred to her she should be truthful. After all, this was God she was talking to, and she figured he pretty much knew what she had on her mind before she did even. "Well, that's not exactly right. I do mean to complain. That's why I'm here. In the short time it took you, I think you did a wondrous job creating the world and all the creatures, but seems to me, you might have gotten in something of a hurry when you made them all in seven days. For instance, maybe you should have taken just a little more time to think about some way to improve on humans. Take sparrows. Lord, did you ever stop to think sparrows get a chance to have two families a year? That's ever year, mind you, but humans only get one chance in their life time. Take me. All my family is gone now, and I didn't choose to marry and have younguns. Now that's not your fault. I made the choice to say no when Millard Sokal ask me all those years ago, but now I'm sitting in a rest home with no family, wasting away the last of my days. Oh, I know there's not much you can do about it now that you have everything created, but I just wish you'd have thought to give us lonesome human beings the chance of the sparrows. Well, that's all I got to say on the subject. Just wanted to get what I was thinking off my chest. Thank you for listening God. Amen."
The rest home's front screen door clattered shut, echoing down the entry hall and into the library. "Where you at Molly?"
Molly Lang stopped writing. She knew from the sound of Orie's voice that something had him excited. She dropped her pen in the cobalt, ink well on the writing table and combed her fingers through her honey shaded hair before she called, "In the library."
Her hazel eyes twinkled when she smiled at her tall, dark haired husband as he burst through the door. He was definitely easy to look at, striding hurriedly across the room. "Molly, I have something to tell you."
"What are you doing home this time of morning? Is everything all right at the farm?"
"Yes, everything's fine." Orie yanked the chair across from Molly out from the table and plopped down. "You know how mopey Miss Gracie's been lately?"
Molly furrowed her eyebrows together. "Yes. The poor dear. I'm really worried about her. She hasn't eaten well for days. She's beginning to look thin."
Orie shook his head. "Undeniably the worse case of spring fever I've ever seen, but I have an idea how we can perk her up."
Molly suddenly straightened in her chair. "By the way, speaking of spring, could you bring home a wagon load of straw to use under the rug in the parlor? It's time to take the old up and put down new."
"Yes, yes, I can do that. Molly, you want to hear what I have to say or not?" Orie asked impatiently.
Trying to look serious, Molly folded her hands in her lap, giving him her complete attention. "All right. Tell me your news."
"This morning on the way to the farm, Thaddeus Sawyer stopped me. You know, the man that rents Miss Gracie's farm, Three Oaks. Seems he needs someone to stay at his place to keep an eye on it for about a month. He wanted to know if I knew anyone he could ask. Right away I thought of Miss Gracie."
"Oh, Orie, I don't know. Miss Gracie? All the way out there by herself," groaned Molly.
Orie shook his head sideways. "It wouldn't be all that bad. I go by there every day to the farm so I could check on her. I could pick her up on Sundays and bring her in for church. Maybe I could even talk our neighbor, Millard Sokal, into looking in on her, too."
"Would Mr. Sokal want to do that?"
"We've helped each other farm for years. I'm sure he would do this as a favor to me,"
assured Orie. "I think Miss Gracie would perk up if she had the chance to get out in the country again."
Molly worried, "But, Orie, she couldn't do farm work anymore."
"Thaddeus said all she'd have to do is milk twice a day and gather the eggs. I think it would do her good to go home for awhile. Work the spring fever out of her system," Orie pleaded.

Excerpt from book "Specious Nephew"

"Ladies, please excuse me. I want to go to the water
closet before we leave," Jeffrey said, standing up.
"We all should think about that, shouldn't we, Gracie?"
asked Melinda.
Gracie didn't hear her. Jeffrey turned the wrong way
down the hall toward the outside door. Perhaps he didn't know
his way about, but if he didn't know the way to the water
closet, why hadn't he asked? Jeffery Armstrong didn't appear
to be the bashful type to her. She stared at the doorway, waiting
for him to realize his mistake and come back by.
"Gracie, don't you think we should think about leaving
soon? Gracie, are you listening to me?" persisted Melinda.
"What?" Gracie asked absently, not taking her eyes
from the door. It had been too long now. Jeffrey had to realize
his mistake. "Oh, I'm ready whenever the rest of you are." She
rubbed her arms. "I feel a bit chilly. I think I left my shawl out
on the hall table. I'll go get it."
"All right, dear," said Melinda. "Miss Moxie and I'll
wait here for you and Jeffrey."
Jeffrey wasn't in the hall. Perhaps he decided to leave
without saying anything. That would disappoint poor Melinda
if he decided to change his mind about taking them to the barn
dance. Gracie picked up her shawl. She draped it around her
shoulders and started back past the library. Puzzled that the
door was shut, she stopped. No one ever shut that door. She
placed her hand on the knob, giving it a gentle twist. She
pushed the door open a crack and peeked in.
Standing on a chair in front of the book shelves, Jeffrey
pulled a book out of the top shelf. He opened it and flipped
through a few pages. Closing it, he slipped the book inside his
suit jacket and stepped down from the chair. Gracie eased the
door shut as fast as she could and hurried to take her seat in the
parlor. What on earth was that man doing? If he wanted to read
a book why didn't he just say so? He lied about where he was
going. He shut the library door so no one would see what he
did. He stole one of Miss Molly's books, but he didn't know
much about priceless books. That brown covered book wasn't
one of the first additions so why would he want it?
Deep in thought, Gracie flinched at the sound of
Jeffrey's voice when he burst back into the parlor, announcing
he was ready to leave.
"Are you still cold now since you got your shawl from
the hall table, Gracie? If so you best bundle up good for the
ride out to Mr. Orie's farm. We need to get our coats. It'll be
cold tonight when we start home," instructed Melinda.
Gracie glanced at Jeffrey. He stared at her with a
smoldering expression on his face and one eyebrow raised.
"Maybe Miss Gracie hasn't had time to warm up, Aunt
Melinda. When did she get her shawl?" He asked, not taking
his eyes off Gracie.
"Just a few minutes ago," cheeped the little lady.
"Is that right? I do hope youve' warmed up by now,"
Jeffrey said. His voice was icy sounding through tightened lips.
"I'm fine," returned Gracie calmly, thinking some
things never change. Melinda always talked when she should
keep her mouth shut.
Jeffrey seemed to relax again. Maybe he decided she
hadn't seen anything with the door shut. She hoped that was the
case.

"Neighbor Watchers" excerpt Mystery Book 1

"Neighbor Watchers" Book 1 of Amazing Gracie Mystery Series ISBN 1438246072


Gracie and Melinda find out snooping on the neighbors can be scary.

Twilight settled around them by the time Gracie elbowed Melinda. "Wake up, sleepy head. You had too big a day what with that birthday party. You might as well go to bed already."

Melinda's head jerked. She blinked. "What time is it?"

"You're the one with the new timepiece. You tell me," cracked Gracie.

"That's right." Melinda smiled down proudly at her brooch. She pushed on the latch, the cover opened, and the music began. Frowning, she squinted at it. "It's too dark to tell. Did I miss anything?" She slurred her words in the middle of a yawn. Shutting the cover, she squinted to look through her hole at Rachel' house.

"Nothing," said Gracie, disappointed. She swatted at a mosquito buzzing near her ear, " there ain't going to be anything happen so we might as well go to bed."

"How do you know?"

"Rachel just lit the lamp in her living room. It's a plain fact, when she has a light on nothing happens." Gracie gripped her rocker arms to boost herself to a standing position.

"Wait," Melinda hissed. She grabbed Gracie's arm to stop her from getting up.

"What's the matter?" Gracie barked.

"Sh! Someone just came from behind Sara's house up to the side door. It's Dan Jordan again."

"That's strange," Gracie puzzled, a dread surging through her as she watched the big man enter the house. Trying to reason away the alarming premonition she felt as
her senses going haywire, she continued, "The lamp's on so it has be an unscheduled visit."
She perked up, thinking that things could get interesting if a scheduled caller showed up while Dan was there. About fifteen minutes later, Gracie felt the sting of
disappointment when no one else came before Jordan slipped out the side door. He disappeared into the darkness. His large silhouette came into view, moving fast amid the
shadows toward downtown.

"That visit didn't take long tonight," surmised Melinda, dryly.

"No, it didn't. Rachel's putting the lamp out now so we might as well go to bed," Gracie grumped. She grasped the rocker arms and started to stand up.

"Wait!" Melinda hissed. Grabbing Gracie's forearm, the little lady applied pressure to jerk Gracie back down.
"Ouch! Let go of my arm. It's full of rheumatism. That hurts. What's the matter with you?" Gracie grimaced, glaring at Melinda while she vigorously rubbed her arm.

"There's someone else sneaking up to Rachel's side door. Look!" Melinda tilted her body over the side of her rocker for a better view around the vine.

Leaning forward, Gracie peered through her hole. With what she saw, she completely forgot the pain in her arm. "Don't that beat all. Looks like a woman."

"It does indeed. Oh my, what's this town coming to. Rachel's house is dark, and a woman's going into it,"moaned Melinda.

"Hush up before she hears you," hissed Gracie. "Let's see how long she stays. Wonder who she is?"

"Don't ask me. It' too dark to tell," grumbled Melinda.

A little more than half an hour passed before the side door opened. The dark form stuck her head out to look around. She eased out, gently shut the door and flattened against the house. After a few seconds, she moved to leave, turning her back to dissolve into the darkness. Suddenly, a lamp, lit in the Bullock house, cast a yellow stream, spotlighting the woman. Blanketed with light, she jerked her head in the direction of the window. Backing up, she flattened against the house again. The light reflected off something in her hand that gave off a golden twinkle middle ways of the woman's skirt. She twirled around to face the mansion.

Automatically, Gracie shrank back in her rocker. Melinda, with a barely audible gasp, slapped her trembling hand against her chest and bumped the brooch latch. Sentimental
Journey cut the silence.

"Shut that thing up," ordered Gracie in a hushed voice.

Melinda smacked the cover. The click seemed deafening. Afraid to move, Gracie tried hard not to breathe. The woman stared intently in their direction. After a moment that seemed to last forever, she turned and melted out of sight.

At the same time, the two ladies inhaled deeply.

Gracie snapped in a lowered voice, "That was real great of you, Melinda. You just had to play your little tune for that woman so she'd know we're over here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," Melinda defended herself.

"I reckon you didn't but that watch is too dang loud." Gracie caught herself and focused her attention across the street. It was too late to take back what she said. She could imagine the hurt look covering Melinda' face at the insult to her new watch. "Well, she'd have to have mighty good hearing from all the way across the street, I reckon," relented Gracie. In spite of herself, she added, "But you better pray she didn't hear."

"Amen," replied Melinda, fervently.

"We sure know who that woman is now in that red dress," said Gracie, still unable to believe her eyes. Nervous but curious at the same time, she wondered why Mavis visited Rachel.

"I saw, but I'm praying right now she didn't see us. Mavis is a wild cat when she's riled, and she didn't appear to want anyone seeing her. Why do you reckon she sneaked into that young woman' dark house?"

"Don't know. I wouldn't figure those two ladies to be on friendly terms, especially that friendly. What do you suppose that was shining in her hand?" Gracie pondered.

"Maybe it was a firefly's tail."

"That was too big a shine to be a firefly. No, she had something in her hand."

"I couldn't tell much. It was too dark." Melinda searched across the street for movement. Her voice quivered as she said, "We better go in now."

Attracted to the dim light in the hall, insects splattered against the screen door, sounding like fingernails noises, Gracie glanced from one end of the porch to the other to make sure they were alone. All of a sudden, squawks, cackles and flapping wings along with the robust crowing of a startled rooster came from the Bullock back yard.

Melinda grabbed Gracie' arm again. "Listen!"

"I hear," grouched Gracie, jerking her arm out of Melinda' grasp.

In a moment, Sara's voice penetrated the darkness, yelling from back of her house, " Get away from my chickens, you varmint."

Minutes later behind the Jordan's house, the German shepherd barked ferociously. Gracie listened to the dog's chain clink on the ground until he reached the end of it. A bang reverberated when the chain refused to give anymore. His frenzied barking kept up for a minute, followed by a loud yelp. Then came nothingness.

"Listen," Gracie tittered. "Mavis ran over Sara's chicken pen in the dark. Serves her right! She better have been quick about getting into her house, or Sara saw her sure." Then Gracie turned serious. "Sounds like she hit her dog to quieted him down after she stirred him up."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing. I've had enough excitement for one night. I'm going inside before Mavis thinks better of it and decides to come see if we're really here. Besides I'm ready to go to bed and cry for a little while," said Melinda, stifling a yawn.

Giving Melinda an incredulous look, Gracie considered her last remark and decided that was the strangest thing to say. "Why on earth would you want to bawl?"

"I had such a good time today while everyone made a fuss over me at the birthday party, but now it's over. I feel like a good cry, because I probably won't ever get another birthday party like this one," lamented Melinda.

"Well, I'm going to bed to sleep," said Gracie, struggling to get out of her rocker for the third time. "And you better remember to pray before you go to sleep."