Tuesday Tales: From the word SCREEN

Good morning. Yesterday was Victoria Day, the unofficial first day of summer. When I was a child, it was alos the day they had fireworks as part of the celebration. That changed after our centennial in 1967 when fireworks and other festivities moved to Dominion Day, the anniversary of the July 1, 1867 Confederation Day. While it’s celebrated July 1, each year, it was officially renamed Canada Day on October 27, 1982 and is our day of national pride and activities as well as fireworks.

Today, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt SCREEN. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince. Evie is working hard to reconcile everything she knows with what she’s about to discover. I’m a few words over thisweek, but I needed to give you the whole picture!

Al reached to open the door but discovered it was locked. I frowned. It was daytime. I could understand locked doors at night as a security measure, but during the day? It wasn’t as if the patients were in any shape to run away. I pressed the intercom.

“Yes?” a woman answered the buzz. “How can I help you?”

“Evelyn Chambers, Al Binette, Petrov Bukowski, and Viktor Opole. We have an appointment to see Janek Dulik.”

“Of course, Ms. Chambers. We’ve been expecting you. Come in.”

The door buzzed, and Al held it open as I led the pack through the entrance. We walked through an x-ray machine, similar to the ones used in high security buildings and airports and stopped at the desk where the receptionist waited, staring at the screen in front of her.

“Ms. Chambers, we’ve been expecting you. Janek and Zoya are excited to be getting visitors. You’ll be the first company they’ve had since arriving here last month. I see some of you are armed.”

I frowned. Obviously, just because the machine hadn’t beeped, it didn’t mean it hadn’t done its job. Since when were rehab centers locked down this way? Something else she’d said struck me. Zoya was staying here? That didn’t seem normal. I would get to the bottom of that later.

“I am, and so is Al.”

There was no point in denying it since my weapon and his had shown up on the scan.

I glanced at Viktor and Petrov, who shook their heads.

“May I see your credentials?” Her voice was frostier than it had been.

I handed her my ID and looked around. While I couldn’t see anyone but nurses, patients in wheelchairs, and orderlies in the hall, I was certain that had I said no, the situation would’ve deteriorated quickly.

What the hell is going on here?

In another time and place, I could picture this woman in uniform, although whether it would be prison guard or military escaped me. She typed the information into her computer, checked my ID with whatever had come up on the computer, and nodded.

Looking up, she said, “The ID for the other armed man, please?”

Al handed her his personal information which included his new investigator’s license.

She repeated the process she’d used for me.

“Your security clearance allows you to keep your weapons.” She smiled, the gesture changing her demeaner. “Please sign in.” She indicated an old-fashioned ledger.

I reached for the pen. “Is security always this tight here?”

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Waiting for Spring and Summer

Good morning. I sincerely hope life is treating you well. We have yet to fins spring although the birds and the plants are doing their damndest to be on schedule. My eyes are getting better every day, and I can walk farther and a little faster, but not unless Mother Nature comes to her senses and stops with all the rain.

If you’re anything like me, you enjoy the changing seasons, but I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a few missing in the calendar. I propose we consider adding two more to begin with, but I’m open to other options. I’ll leave the four seasons we have as they are, but here are the two I suggest.

My first addition would be Springer, in honor of the talk show host who seemed intent on the shock value of misery, not his. Springer would be that time when Mother Nature has a hot flash and opens the door to the freezer to cool down. I’m sure my menopausal ladies know what that’s like. In her case, Mother Nature is just moving along, counting down the days off the calendar until her next big event, seeing the propsect of spring and her new flowery wardrobe, and feeling relaxed, allows a few days of sun and warmth, lets shoots come out of the earth, tiny leaves burst from buds, and then … Bam! The hot flash hits her, and she reacts by unleashing every kind of cold, godawful weather you can imagine–rain, sleet, ice pellets, freezing rain, snow, and cold, bone-chilling damp. vicious cold that has us hidng under the heavy blankets and cranking up the heat once more. Once she cools down, the warmth returns, only to begin again.

Some people refer to this as false spring. I prefer Springer. We had about eight weeks of Springer this year, starting mid-March and running into now. For the record, frost warnings in May are just wrong.

I took this picture of a baby mourning dove this morning. Ugly little sucker. I had to look it up to find out what kind of bird it was. He’s big, maybe 10-15 cm tall and will be quite pretty when he loses his baby fluff nad proper feathers grow in. What he was doing atop my shed is a mystery. I’ve heard their cries often, but it’s the first time I’ve seen a baby. Poor little guy. He had himself so puffed up against the cold, you could hardly see his head. And that’s wrong, too.

But, God and Mother Nature willing, that’s going to change this weekend, Victoria Day Weekend, what most consider the start of summer even though it’s tecnically a month away. And just like that, it will be Sprummer, the other new season I propose, the one where someone kicks spring to the curb and offers summer a lawn chair and a case of beer, even if it is still a child. Those nice warm spring days we’ve been waiting for to clean up the yard and get the flower beds ready, you know the ones around 20-22C, vanish within what seems like a matter of hours and are replaced by the 28 to 30 C temps. So now, you’re trying to get those flower beds and gardens ready in the kind of weather that has sweat running down your back. It’s hot and humid with the potential for thunderstorms. Your body is in shock, not programmed to deal with a sudden heat wave after the -1C of the previous week.

You race to the closet, desperately searching for something suitable for the heat, praying some of it will fit, because let’s face it, you were still wearing your winter coat last week. If you’re one of the smart ones, you kept your legs and armpits shaved, if not, you could be mistaken for the missing link, but out you go, with arms and legs that haven’t seen the sun in at least nine months, limbs so white that they glow with an unearthly brilliance.

You slap on a thin coat of sunscreen wishing it was the instant tan lotion of your youth, but knowing they don’t sell that anymore now that they know tanning is bad for you, but few of us are content to be fish-belly white in summer.

So, instead of a nice golden tan, you looked more like a broiled lobster, only you aren’t done all over, just one side, the side the sun saw while you were bending over in the garden, and it hurts like hell. But, Hey sprummer is here. By the end of the week, it’ll be cool again.

Have a wonderful sprummer!

Tuesday Tales: From the Word BIRTH

Hello. Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Around here, May is a confused ar April was, so we’re all praying for consistancy. This week, the Tuesday Tales’s authors are crafting scenes around the word prompt BIRTH. I’m coninuing with my cozy mystery, The Case of the Missing Prince. Enjoy!

I swallowed. “But he wouldn’t bother with an injured man or a corpse, would he?”

The idea of Leo meeting the giant grizzly had the burger in my stomach revolting.

“Ms. Chambers, survival of the fittest is a way of life especially in the animal kingdom. Sooner or later, everyone becomes part of the food chain. Grizzly bears are opportunistic carrion eaters. Food is food, and if it isn’t going to fight back, so much the better. They’ll eat road kill, winter kill, calves that don’t survive after birth, and whatever the wolves take down and leave behind, especially in spring when they’re hungry and the crop of berries is sparce. Hell, male grizzlys will eat their own cubs without even thinking twice about it, seeing them only as food and nothing else. To the Boss, a human corpse would just be another free meal. If your man wandered out there and died, the animals could’ve scattered his bones over almost seven thousand square kilometers. The odds of finding him wouldn’t be good.”

Perhaps some hiker will come across a bone or two, and DNA can verify it as belonging to Leo. The man is dead. Leave him in peace.

Zandro’s words flashed through my mind. Had he known the size of the park? As an environmental toxicologist, he could be aware of animal habitat as well as diet. Could he have known about the Boss?

Once again, I regretted consuming that large burger for lunch. I had to hope that Leo hadn’t met the Boss or any of the other predators Hank had mentioned.

He signaled and turned into a large paved lot. The Buffalo Spring Convalescent Home was in a rural setting although it was still within the city limits. The three-story modern, red brick building featured many large windows, so there would be lots of natural light. There were several trees decorating the front of the building, all of them dressed in gold at the moment, heralding the arrival of autumn, and someone had placed giant flower pots filled with multicolored mums to add a little festive color to the place. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I’d heard Buffalo Springs Convalescent Home, maybe something along the lines of a refurbished mental hospital or one of the buildings that had once been a school, but this place looked friendly and inviting.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Mother’s Day 2026

Since my mother passed away, Mother’s Day has felt somewhat different. My husband gets me a card and flowers, my children always make a point of contacting me, as do my grandchildren, but I no longer have a card or a gift to buy, no one to visit, although I’ll probably stop by the cemetery. Those who live nearby will take me to supper tonight, maybe buy me flowers, but I will have no one to honor anywhere but here and in my heart.

My mother and I didn’t always get along, not that that is unusual. A lot of people have mother issues, but it took me a very long time to understand that just because we didn’t always get along, it didn’t mean that she didn’t love me in her own way, just as I loved her.

This morning, I was playing one of those silly games online where they use your picture to create something else. In this case it was mini you, you, and older you.

I was surprised to see that in the photo, older me resembled my mother so completely that I could be her and yet, no one has ever suggested that I resembled her–my sister, yes, but I was always told that I took after my father’s side.

Mom was my age when this picture was taken. I try to see the resemblance in it, and I suppose I do around the eyes and the shape of the chin, but her eyes were a much darker brown then mine, almost black, especially when she was angry or off in another world, one of her own making, as she frequently was in her latter years.

And suddenly, I miss her. I miss the good times. I wish she were here to see what wonderful things her great-grandchildren are doing, to see how I’ve grown as an author, using the imagination I must credit to her since she showed a lot of it in the world she created for herself. She never forgot who we were, always knew my sister and I, but her memories rarely were accurate. Was she unhappy in the nursing home? I don’t think so. She had a private room with everything she wanted, including her own television set. She had her hair done weekly, buweekly manicures and pedicures. The staff treated her well, even when she was less than gracious about it, and every two weeks, we sent flowers to brighten her room. We visited twice a week, and while she could, she participated in several activities, including BINGO! How she loved to win. We never knew how artistic and creative she was, and while things were good, she loved being part of things. She was 96 when she died.

So, today, I remember Mom. I choose not to focus on the sad moments, but to recall the good ones, and there were many of those.

No one is perfect, and being a mother is one of the most difficult jobs a woman can ever have. Your body gives a lot of itself to the child growing inside you for nine months, and then when you bring it into the world, a tiny, helpless, bundle, the love you feel overwhelms you. There’s no manual to help you deal with this tiny creature as it moved through stage afte stage of development. You simply have to trust that you’re doing the best you can. It isn’t always easy, sometimes it feels as if you’ve failed over and over again, but the joy and pride you feel when things turn out well is priceless.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

IWSG Blog Hop for May

Here we are in May of 2026. Four months down, eight months to go. The calendar assures me it’s spring; the weather does not.

May 6 question – What was the most inspiring feedback you received from readers, including agents, editors, and beta readers?

The answer is easy. The best feedback I get is being told that readers enjoy my work. That’s what keeps me writing, what keeps me slogging away at the computer day after day because that’s what I intended to do when I started this journey. I didn’t expect to make a lot of money, although that would’ve been nice. I wanted to entertain people, to share the stories and characters that occupied my mind. I wanted to take readers out of the world they were in and give them something else to think about, restore their ability to dream and home. Did I make them laugh or cry? Did I inspire them to learn a bit more about something? Did I help to change their perspective on my country, my values, my beliefs? Did I make them want to read or listen to more of my work? If I touched them in any way, then I succeeded.

See what others said here: https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

Tuesday Tales: From the Word Sunshine

Welcome to the month of May and Tuesday Tales. Around here, spring is still struggling to find her footing. Each week, a select group of author friends share a snippet from their current works in process with you, creating a scene designed around a specific word prompt. This week, our word prompt is SUNSHINE. Each scene is approxinmately 400 words long. I’m working on a cozy mystery called The Case of the Missing Prince. It’s a cold case filled with secrets and political intrigue which will require every ounce of my sleuth’s abilities to solve.

This week’s scene introduces you to Banff National Park’s denizen living legend. For the record, had I known about this guy, there is no way on Earth that my sister-in-law would’ve gotten me to go on a hike on the other side of the bear gates! Lucky for us, the Boss, was occupied elsewhere that day. Enjoy!

“This place is new and privately owned,” Hank stated. “They’re the top rehab center but mighty pricey. Got family in there?”

“No,” I shook my head at him since I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror. “When Leo disappeared, he was climbing with four other men, including Viktor here who broke his leg.” No need to go into details about crush injuries. “While two of the others are back home recuperating, one was more severely injured and required additional care.” I was careful not to mention where home was.

He nodded. “A couple of people were killed, too. My nephew—he’s in the last year of his forestry management degree—does a lot of hiking out that way. He and the other people in his class assisted in the perimeter search.” He chuckled. “Ned and a couple of his friends worked the ten to fifteen kilometer section. Didn’t find anything, not that they expected to. Lots of rough terrain there. Their last day, they spotted the Boss out fishing. They stayed a safe distance away, believe me.”

Viktor turned in his seat. “The Boss?”

“Yeah. He’s what you might call Banff National Park’s living legend and dominant grizzly bear. Officially, he’s Bear 122. He’s close to 30 years old, big, even for a grizzly, weighing about seven hundred pounds, and a horny bugger since they figure he’s sired 70 percent of the cubs in the park. He’s usually the first bear to come out of hibernation each year, lured by the early rays of sunshine in his cave. Folks in the area set spring by him not some damn rodent back east. A few years back, he got hit by a train and walked away from the collision. He’s learned to stay away from the rails when he hears the whistles. My nephew often hikes in that section of the park, but it was the first time he saw him. It seems the Boss, like Big Foot, is a mite shy when it comes to humans, but he won’t walk away from a fight with another Bear. The park rangers claim there was quite a dust-up this past summer between him and old Split Lip who occasionally wanders into his territory. While he’s been known to eat black bears, as a rule, he sticks to berries, roots, smaller mammals, and whatever he can steal from the wolf pack in the area, especially at this time of year when he’s fattening up for winter. Not sure how your man would’ve fared if he’d come across him.”

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Reflections for the 2026 A to Z Challenge Blog

I’m back! Miss me? Just kidding. Welcome to my reflection on this year’s blogging experience. This year’s theme was: A is for Aspirations: Blogging hopes, dreams, and goals, and I believe I did a good job of at least coming close to its intentions.

I’ve participated in this blogging adventure almost every year since its inception. It isn’t always easy to get the blogs done and for the last couple of years, I’ve had surgery pop into the mix, but on the whole, it has been a wonderful and valuable experience for me.

Thanks to the organisers for providing the jpg banners and daily letter images which I’ve used every year although I’ve noticed that not all bloggers that I visited did.

Using memes to support my journaling throughout the blogging helped since it allowed me to focus on more than one word in my ramblings. Hunting for the appropritae memes was fun, too, but there were days and letters that were harder than others–looking at you here X and Z!

Since my surgery involved my eyes, it wasn’t always easy to be able to stay on top my reading of other blogs, but I’m pretty well caught up now.

My goal for this year was to engage three new followers, and I exceeded that goal by two. I followed them in return and hope to be able to keep doing so throughout the coming year. I enjoyed not only their posts but their comments on mine. A couple of times, we had a few back and forth discussions. too. I loved that aspect of things.

So where do we go from here? Well, I intend to continue the challenge next year, God willing, and without any surgical issues. I will make it a point to visit the A to Z blog site http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/ at least once a month to see what’s new. It can’t hurt to stay abreast of things. I do participate in the Insecure Writers Support Group monthly post on the first Wednesday of the month and I often learn new things there, too. https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html I was gratified to see that they reviewed one of my books last year, which made me feel as if someone out there cared about my work.

Through this blog challenge, I’ve met people I now consider friends, people living half a world or more away from me who’ve become part of my life. In that repect alone, I consider myself a winner.

To everyone out there who managed to complete this year’s challenge, congratulations. maybe I’ll see three more of you next year.

Day 26 of the 2026 A to Z Challenge Blog for the Letter Z

Good morning. Well, we made it. All twenty-six letters of the alphabet accounted for. It’s been an exciting month, a busy one, and if the weather wasn’t what I’d hoped for, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise. This is Canada and Climate Change is real.

I’ve so enjoyed reading your posts, following along with your personal journeys, some heartbreaking and yet filled with hope, some giving me pause and reminding me how differently was all see the world and yet how similar we can be. Because I’m only human and I have only so much time at my disposal, I didn’t get to visit all of the bloggers, but I did make some new friends and enjoyed hearing from friends I met in previous years, a few of which I follow all year long. I’m hoping that the new ones I’ve made will continue to follow me, too.

To quote Juliet, parting is such sweet sorrow, but all good things have to end. But this isn’t an ending. It’s simply a rest stop, a pause. God willing, we’ll all be back next year come April 1 to do it all over again. How will the world have changed? Unknown, but we can hope it’s better, with peace and understanding.

Today’s letter, the last one in the alphabet, is Z, pronouced zed in Canada. Z starts many words like zoo, zealot, zeal, but today, for me, it stands for Zen.

Zen is a school of Mahayana Buddhism (originating as Chan in China) that emphasizes direct experience of reality, meditation (zazen), and mindfulness over scripture study to achieve enlightenment. It focuses on living in the present moment, calming the mind, and finding wisdom in daily life by removing unnecessary mental embellishments. (Thank you AI Google.)

To me, having a Zen moment, means just stopping everything I’m doing and focusing on how far I’ve come in life. Did everything go my way? No, but then few people, if any, can say that. I’ve been luckier than many. I had a good childhood, devoid of social media. I played outside, I read, I went dancing, I went to university, I fell in love, I got married, I had children, I had grandchildren, I had a job I enjoyed, always enough money for food, treats, clothes, the rent–not a fortune, but enough. Today, I’m still above the grass, living my dream of being an author, even if it’s not a famous one. What more could I possibly want?

So, I’m saying goodbye by sharing a few other memes from across the alphabet. Enjoy.

Day 25 of the 2026 A to Z Challenge Blog for the Letter Y

Good morning! I hope you’re having a wonderful day. The sun is hiding from us for the next couple of days, but it’s still warm today. That won’t last. We’ll be seeing negative numbers by the end of the week, and that will be in MAY! Not funny Mother Nature. We do need the rain to green things up now that all of last falls leaves have been raked and bagged thanks to my enterprising granddaughter who is saving to buy a car. She works six days a week at her new job as a barrista/short order cook, and is using her day off to help us. We are very fortunate.

Among the things on my to-do list today is tracking down my Costco order. This is the first time it’s ever been late, but I figure they are experiencing the same issues with food and delivery as the rest of the world, but I’m running low on coffee!

Today’s letter is Y. There are many y words out there, like yogurt, my preferred breakfast choice with fresh fruit, and yoga, the art of trying to bend your body in ways like a pretzel–standing on one foot is impossible. There’s also Yoda, who has a unique way of phrasing advice, as in “try not, do”, and Baby Yoda who is wise, cute, and funny. He did feature in a few images that I’ve shared with you this month. I could write a book on how youth is wasted on the young–if I’d thought I would get this old, I would’ve taken better care of myself, but I’ve decided just to share advice memes aimed at YOU, which includes me, of and one from Winnie that i forgot yesterday–another Y word and the song I chose for today, but that comes later.

Screenshot

I’ll see you tomorrow for the last day of the challenge!

Day 24 of the A to Z Challenge Blog for the Letter X

I’m back! That was short. So, hello again. The sun is shining, it’s warm, and I had my one week check-up with the eye surgeon this morning. Everything looks good. He says my vision will keep improving, especially the lazy eye, once the brain comprehends that it’s getting messages from two eyes instead of one.

After yesterday’s writing marathon, I plan to take things easy today. Tomorrow, I have a book to edit for another author, and once that’s done, I will jump back into The Case of the Missing Prince, due in four weeks. We’re over the hump with that one and the characters and I are on the same page. AFter that, it’ll be time to work on Book Three of the Listen to the Stones Series, The Bonding.

To be quite honest, X is one of the hardest letters in this challenge. In the past, I’ve written about Xerxes, the Persian King, Xena, the warrior princess, Xenophobia, the fear of starngers, and xylophones, an instrument that is harder to play than you think. I’ve mentioned X-rays and XXX books and movies, and XL in clothing, so today I thought I would simply mention X, the social media site.

I’ll be honest with you. I must preferred it when it was Twitter and we tweeted. Posting on X just doesn’t have the same fun feel to it.

My use of social media is limited to this blog, FaceBook, and the occassional book ad on X. Tic Toc and YouTube are far beyond my techno-savvy. Unfortunately, AI seems to have taken over both of the sites I use. I get all kinds of newsfeeds that are FAKE and a waste of time. I see hundreds of ads for Ozempic, face cream, you name it. I don’t care to read about miracle cures that make people feel poorly about themselves, or articles whose only purpose is to enflame and create more hatred. Like many other writers, social media has created an even greater problem, a case of slander of the worst kind–the accusation that my words are AI generated. Do I use AI? Yes, for reseach, spell check, synonyms, and grammar, but not for my stories. How ridiculous is it to accuse Mary Shelley of using AL when she published Frankenstein on January 1, 1818! It doesn’t get dumber than that.

Today, I leave you with this great version of Xanadu by Rush, a fantastic Cnadian band. If you enjoy great instrumentals, this is for you.