Of All the Souls I’ve Encountered in the Universe, His was the Most…..Human.

Leonard Simon Nimoy, born in Boston on March 26 1931 to an Orthodox Jewish family.He was an actor on stage and screen, both large and small, a director, producer, singer, poet, photographer, father and husband.

Spock was also my first Hollywood crush. I remember coming in the room and wanting to watch a show as a kid. My dad wouldn’t let me change the channel. Instead he said,”Sit down. Be Quiet and watch. You will like this show.” A Trekkie was born.

He was also an Inspiration to millions of people around the world to seek out new life and new civilizations. As Spock, Nimoy brought the alien into our living rooms. As the son of a Vulcan man and an Earth woman, Spock gave inspiration to thousands of bi-racial children seeking their own level between cultures that pulled them in half.
As part of the crew of the Enterprise, Spock inspired generations of astronauts, scientists, astronomers and writers to boldly go where no man had gone before

.Bill sits alonea

Leonard Simon Nimoy died Stardate 68623.2

Book Review – Trickster Noir by Cedar Sanderson

I finished the first book in the series, went right out and bought the second. I started reading after supper and the next thing I knew it was morning and I was done.

Trickster Noir is the second book in the Pixie for Hire series. The first is Pixie Noir. The third book, Dragon Noir, is finished but not out yet, per the author’s Facebook posts. It should be out in a couple of months or so. I can hardly wait. The protagonist, Lom, is a pixie bounty hunter who is required to serve the High Court in a position of disgrace because of some long ago offense of one of his ancestors. He has lost his title, the right to his family’s lands, manor and holdings. Because of an incident explained in the first book, he even has lost almost all of his magic because of elf-shot poisoning. This lack is what makes Lom so ideal in the sight of the doddering, Machiavellian High Court Council. Less magic means less attention from the mortal world, hence less chance Underhill will be discovered. Of course, since they are sending him after magical creatures causing havoc in the mortal realm, this puts him at a disadvantage. Lom is understandable a crusty cynic in the first book when he is sent to escort a long-lost Fairy Princess back to the High Court. Bella and he are attacked on the way back and this leads to the uncovering and eventual solving of a plot to destroy the High Court by the Low.

The second book begins after Lom has been rescued from imprisonment and torture. Bella and her unusual talents drew the elf-shot poison out of him to drive off the Wild Hunt. This saved his life but destroyed any magic he had left. Even the smallest magic done in his presence sends him into convulsions and blackouts.  Rather than destroy the chance of his beloved fiancee, the Queen-Consort elect to win the hearts of the court because he is now viewed as a hopeless cripple, Lom leaves Bella in their home and travels to visit her ‘uncle’, who is the Trickster Spirit Raven in the flesh.

The narrative switches back and forth between Lom’s viewpoint and Bella’s. They each have adventures. Lom’s is told from the first-person perspective and Bella’s is told from the limited third, which is interesting to read. Lom gets his health and his magic back. Bella’s grandfather, who was the one married to the original fairy princess that gave Bella her fairy blood, is revealed to be a dragon. This hybridization is what gives Bella her unusual strength and powers. Raven gives the couple a mission from him to go to another ancient spirit in Japan, to be undertaken after their two weddings: one for her mortal family in the mundane realm, the other for the High Court in Underhill.

After the wedding in Underhill, the King also asks them to undertake a mission for him to, surprise, surprise, the Eastern Court of Fairy, where hostages taken in the war with the Low Court had been returned and reports of unrest were slipping out. Lom correctly surmises that the two missions are actually one and the same. He doesn’t understand Bella’s mirth when they arrive in Japan and are told by the ancient spirit there they must destroy the wicked witch from the west. How they succeed involves a phoenix and a dragon, other than Bella or her grandfather, both powerful symbols in Japanese mythology.

I very much enjoy Cedar’s writing style. No foul language other than an occasional cuss word, minimal gore, sexual content is limited to kissing and mild innuendo, in this series anyway. Her credentials are impressive as a mother, businesswoman, full-time student with multiple degrees. She has her own blog at Cedar Writes and is a frequent contributor to Otherwhere Gazette.


Well, she’s gone. I’m not quite sure how to feel about it. I loved her from a distance. The people in my family have never been close. When she passed, Brother number 2 first tried calling Brother number 1 to let him know. Brother number 1 didn’t even answer the phone. While realizing he may have been busy and even that he may have been expecting the call, I would still like to think this is the kind of phone call one would pick up, not let go to voice mail. But then, I haven’t spoken to Brother number 1 since Christmas, although he did text me when I beat him at Trivia Crack on Facebook a month ago. It seems I broke his winning streak. I beat him the next two out of three games and he hasn’t played me since. He and his youngest son did fly down last weekend to see the folks and Grandma since my uncle and his wife were also renting a timeshare about 45 minutes away. It was planned as Nephew number 2’s birthday trip, but, needless to say, with Grandma being sick and requiring care, not a lot of fun things were done.

My grandmother was a complicated woman. An alcoholic, quite promiscuous well into her middle age, married to a man for 30 some years who was the father to two of the four children he raised with her. They were both angry, selfish people in those days. My mother’s tales of neglect would break your heart. Her drinking and smoking almost killed her when a bleeding ulcer required surgery and the choice became she will bleed to death if we don’t and, if we do, she may code under anaesthesia because her emphysema is so advanced. If I recall correctly, she did code on the table at least once but came back. She never missed an opportunity to point out how overweight I was, or to mock the conservatism of our religious beliefs and politics. A memory just made me laugh. She was saying something to me one day railing about a politician. I just chuckled and didn’t argue. She turned to me and said, “Don’t chuckle at me like that. Your father makes the same noise when he thinks I’m wrong but won’t say anything back to me.”

On the other side, Grandma paid for my braces when I was a young teenager while Dad was attending Bible college. This was back before they were such a wide-spread phenomena. It seems like everyone gets them nowadays. Then, years later, after I left Bible college and was struggling, looking for a direction in my life, not having acquired what one might call marketable job skills, she offered to let me live with her for two years, rent free and pay for the tuition to attend X-ray technology school. It wasn’t always pleasant. She was still a heavy drinker and had marked and sudden moods swings, but there we were. She even helped me buy an old junker of a car for $500 so I could get back and forth to school. Grandma even still sent me birthday and Christmas checks, because she knew that living on disability income doesn’t always mean all the expenses get covered. I always made sure to call and thank her

Grandma was very set in her ways. As I said before, she was as stubborn as two mules and didn’t like change. She mellowed a great deal when she married her second husband and moved to Florida, selling the house she’d lived in since my mother was four years old. I never got the chance to meet him. They had been married for less than a year when he passed suddenly.  Grandma married again quickly to one of the sweetest men it has ever been my pleasure to meet. His quirky sense of humor and easy-going ways let her sharpness just roll on by. She was happy with him for several years. He passed about two years ago. I don’t think she quite recovered from that as well. Grandma’s health had become increasingly frail and, without my mother’s additional care, she would have declined even faster.

Grandma had three living children and their spouses, six living grandchildren and at least five living great-grandchildren. As I said, our family isn’t close, so I’m not sure if my aunt’s son has more than one child or not.

It’s so hard to know how to mourn. I loved her and I will miss her. She was a huge piece of my life, directly and indirectly through my mother. But she is now beyond pain, beyond weakness, beyond loneliness, at home in Heaven with our Lord. I know I will see her again there when the time comes. And in that I will rejoice.

Romance in Today’s World

I get daily emails from different eBook notification providers, like Freebooksy, Bookbub, and I just signed up with The Fussy Librarian, whose specificity of choices I find delightful, even down to language, level of violence and sexual content. Anyway, a choice came up for a romance novel. I’m not sure why, I thought I had excluded that option from my preferences. I don’t care for romance novels, especially what heaving piles of lust-filled, pornographically explicit crap they put out these days.  It was a book called The Curve Ball and was listed as a “BBW romance”. Obviously, I went back to that sender, I forget which of the original two it was, and updated my preferences quickly. Don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy to see that the romance industry is finally recognizing that Big Beautiful Women are attractive and lovable and desirable to members of the opposite sex. As a curvy woman of size, I “fit that demographic” as it were. I just don’t want to read about it.

But it got me thinking about all the ruckus about that other inexplicably popular 50 Shades of Grey. I was happy to see that ticket sales dropped a massive 73% in the second weekend. Apparently, a Valentine’s Day release gave it an artificially inflated boost. Maybe people (read women) are waking up and seeing that that book/movie isn’t about love or romance or even BDSM in the proper sense. It is about abuse, sexual and domestic, stalking and the exploitation by a rich and powerful man of a young innocent woman under his control. I don’t care if “Oh, but they really fall in love at the end of the books.” It takes three massive volumes of cruelty and abuse for the heroine to “fix” her hero. That just feeds into the deluded mindset of battered women everywhere who stay with and defend their abusers. It isn’t even BDSM on a proper level. As anyone with any kind of knowledge will tell you, BDSM is meant to be about trust and passion and the release of inhibitions. It has safewords, and Stop and No still mean Stop and No. And I learned all that from watching CSI.

Biblical Christianity teaches us that the wife needs to submit to her husband. It is part of her God-given responsibilities to demonstrate Christlikeness in this world. Not as a mindless slave, but as a supportive partner. And not with sullenness or snarkiness or sarcasm, but with gentleness and love. I’m not letting husbands off the hook because neither does God. He commands husbands to love their wives as their own flesh, to treat them as a weaker vessel, not because they are, but because that is how you treat a precious treasure and a one of a kind gift from the Almighty Creator of the Universe Who has promised the absolute best for His children. You don’t neglect such a gift. You don’t ignore it. Put it on a shelf and focus your attention on lesser things. Why play with plastic in the junkyard when you have a diamond at home?

Real romance blossoms when it develops over time with love and care. Romance isn’t a short term thing. That’s lust. A biochemical reaction to attraction. Purely physical, and as scientists will tell you, it fades. Of course, it takes work to keep it. Romance is like any living, breathing thing. It needs food, air, exercise.

With the modern feminist movement trying to destroy male roles as protector, defender and provider, it is upsetting God’s plan for the family and perverting the proper roles in sex and romance. They downgrade men to second-class citizens, but then where does that leave the average, non-militant woman to look for “true love”? In ever more perverse storytellings of domineering alpha males who take their ’empowerment from them. And don’t even get me started on what it has done to the men who are now idolizing power-hungry sociopaths on shows like House of Cards, Boardwalk Empire, Suits and others of that ilk, while they are still being brain-washed into lip-syncing the militant feminist agenda.

Disrupting God’s order turns romance and love into perversion, power plays and manipulation. That’s why I don’t read romance novels.

First Post

Here I sit, after being up several hours already because of a stupid head cold, trying to figure this out. I’ve added a whole bunch of things I’ll probably take out later because of over-crowding. My eyes are invariably bigger than my stomach.
It’s a cold Sunday morning in February in the middle of an Arctic blast. Global warming? Not really. I still remember in the 1970’s as a kid when all the screams were about the coming nuclear winter from all the nuclear power plants melting down. Anyone remember the Cher classic Silkwood?
This is guaranteed to be a free-thought zone. This is a place for my thoughts and opinions, not anyone else’s. I am a politically conservative, fundamental Christian, middle-aged woman. If you don’t like it, get off my lawn.
I read a lot. I watch a lot of TV. I have few friends near me and I don’t have a car.I don’t get out much. Hence, the majority of my life is online.
I am recovering from a three-year sentence of some kind of chemical lobotomy. After one surgery to remove a tumor in my brain that was growing on my pituitary, another four months later to remove a tumor that was growing on my parathyroid and then a prescription for a drug that seriously diminished my mental capacity, I became a walking zombie. After a lifetime of voraciously devouring book after book, a vocabulary that sparkled; the words all went away and I was so deep, I couldn’t even miss them. Then, last August, I was in a car accident and I don’t know what broke loose or snapped back into place, but the words started coming back. Slowly, but they are coming. I am struggling and trying to rush the process at times, frustrating myself, of course. My memory is still so swiss-cheesed I can’t remember half of my life, it seems sometimes. My sense of past and present is so stretched I don’t know if things happened two weeks ago or two months ago.
Other things are happening as well, I have re-connected with an old friend who is working on her Master’s degree in Business Technology and we are spending hours on the phone. My brother is back in the States after nearly eight years teaching in China, hoping to bring his wife and child over by late summer. And my 87-year-old grandmother is dying. She has been frail the past few years, but now has shingles and is failing swiftly. Hopefully, my brother will get to see her before she goes to her reward. Of course, the woman is as stubborn as two mules, so she may linger for a while yet.

And with that I think I will close off this first attempt and see where we will go from here. Have a Blessed Day.