Well, just like that July is almost over. Soon, we’ll slip into the dog days of summer. How have you enjoyed yourself? Have you traveled or did you indulge in a stay vacation? I’ve done a bit of both.

This week, the TT authors are working with the word prompt, COLD. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones and moving toward the ending. Enjoy.

Once again, Jerome silently cursed the fiend who’d murdered Bronagh. She would’ve known what he had to do, but she’d taken the knowledge to the grave.

After Marina had walked away with James, Nadia had asked her husband about the gentlemen’s agreement, but top notch solicitor that he was, Nathan had looked his wife in the eye and had claimed lawyer-client privilege, not revealing that he was the client. She hadn’t been impressed, but since they had to get home for Jerry’s feeding, she hadn’t argued the point. Still, he would wager Nathan had a long evening ahead of him since Nadia had avoided them both, giving them the cold shoulder since they’d gotten back to the house.

He stood. “If I’m going to make it back to the Hall for dinner at seven, I suppose I should get going.” He looked James in the eye. “Do you think she knows it’s me?”

He didn’t have to explain who she was.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Are you serious?” He finished the pint he’d been nursing for the last hour. “Of course she knows it’s you. Why else would she have said it the way she did? The bigger question is how did she learn of it? She said Ewen had mentioned it, but I never said a word to him, so it had to have been Angus. Of course it could be Aunt Maeve. She was privy to everything that went on in that house. My money is on MacNish doing it. It’s the perfect way to discredit you and make his suit the better option.” He chuckled. “Did you see the look on his face when she spoke? He was as surprised as we were. I have no doubt he didn’t expect Lady Fraser to lay down her hand like that. So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have to come clean and tell her the truth. What else can I do?”

“Well, unless you’re ready to tell her everything, choose your words carefully; otherwise, she’ll think you’re mad. There’s no shame in being a bestselling author, nor is there anything wrong with being inspired by trees, water, or stones. The problem is when you claim they speak to you and that the tales you weave are the stories they tell you. And when you tell her that, will you also admit you’re the man who frightened her at the airport in London?”

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Long before I decided to write short stories and novels, I tried my skills at writing poetry. My eldest son was diagnosed with schizophrenia in his second year of university. If you know anything about mental illness, then you know that the patient isn’t the only one who suffers. Once released form the hospital, he left. We didn’t know where he was and that’s when I wrote The Voice.

No matter where I go, no matter how I try,

I cannot escape ti; it’s part of me.

It threatens my sanity with what if and why,

It’s never really satisfied, the voice deep inside.

Did I do my best? Did I do all that I could’ve done?

Would he have stayed if I had tried to understand?

Did I love him too much, smother him alive?

It’s not really forgiving, the voice deep inside.

How do I know if I made the right choice?

How do I live with the fear and the doubt?

Will he ever be happy? Will he be satisfied?

It’s not really comforting, the voice deep inside.

Like a leech, it sucks away at my self-esteem,

Leaving me once more alone and confused.

Will he call? Will he write? Is he safe?

It’s never quiet, the mother’s voice deep inside.

After a difficult decade, our son accepted his illness, received treatment and has been able to get on with his life. Today, he owns his own web design business, works as a tutor for the local college, and is an Elder in his church. He has a strong, supportive group of friends. If you want to see a sample of his work, check out my website. https://mhsusannematthews.ca/

Mental illnesses like schizophrenia, now referred to as a spectrum disorder, can’t be cured, but for those lucky enough, like my son, they can be controled. We are truly blessed.

Have a great weekend!

My bathroom is almost finished. The new white vanity has been delayed, but this one will be going in my husband’s bathroom come September when we complete the second part of our bathroom upgrades.

I love it! I’ve taken a bath and a shower in my new tub, used the jets and the mood light, and relaxed. What a thrill it is to soak in hot water once again. While it’s going to be a tight fit for my son, my husband is looking forward to soaking in it, too, especially after curling this winter.

Here are a few more pics.

And did you guess the theme of the decor? If you said lighthouses and the ocean, you would be correct.

We went from this

to this in eight days!

Pretty impressive!

Good morning. I don’t know what the weather is like where you are, but summer is definitely here this year, with plenty of hot, sunny days. The humidity is high, but so far we’ve escaped the thunderstorms storms that have threatened our area. We got rain form the remnants of Beryl, but it wasn’t as bad as they’d predicted, just enough to ensure the flowers keep blooming.

This week, the TT authors are writing to the word prompt TOUCH. I continue with Listen to the Stones as we wend our way toward the climax. Enjoy.

Marina exhaled a sigh of relief. She and James would have tea, but thankfully, he would be gone before Jerome arrived home for dinner. The last thing she needed at the moment was the two of them, circling the ring like boxers in a match, one without a referee.

After James’s comments earlier on magic and the stones, she was more confused and frustrated than ever. Great-uncle Angus wouldn’t have left her the estate if he didn’t believe in her destiny, and yet James was firmly convinced there was nothing special about her and insisted she agree to that idea and not let herself be carried away by what he termed the nonsense of others.

What had he said? He only believed in what he could prove and what he could control. Could she confirm that she had some kind of magical ability? No, but she couldn’t disprove it either, since like her great-uncle, she was convinced that something was going to happen at Halloween, something her dreams had been predicting even if she didn’t recall them all.

After her little speech in the restaurant earlier today, things might be awkward between herself and Jerome. In all fairness, because she knew the world wasn’t black and white but tinged with gray and because of her sudden doubts about James’s intentions, she should give Jerome a chance to defend himself. If he had a satisfactory reason for keeping what he’d done from her, she would accept it, but unless he told the whole truth—not a portion of it or a version of it—she wasn’t going to forgive him, nor would she let him get close to her again.

Tonight would be their last night alone in Fraser Hall. The first of her guests would be arriving tomorrow afternoon. Unless he gave her a reason to trust her, cozy dinners in the games room watching the World Series would be over.

She sighed. So why did that thought sadden her?

James reached over and touched her arm. “Wool gathering?”

She smiled, the lie ready. “Actually, I was thinking about the guests coming tomorrow. I hope I’m up to the task.”

He patted her hand, that smirk still in place. “You’ll be fine. Just remember what we discussed and don’t let anyone turn your head.”

Easier said than done.

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Halfway through July! How are you doing? Has the weather been kind in your part of the world? I hope so.

This week’s word prompt is BREAD. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones.

James reached for her hand. “I realize that some of what I’ve told you today was unsettling, but to me, it’s all quite logical. Almost all of our Christian traditions have their origins in pre-Christianity. Think of it. A missionary arrives here to find a fierce, pagan tribe. Why wouldn’t he use whatever he could to his advantage? The stones were here, older than the island’s current occupants. No one knew who’d built them, so why not strike a little terror into the hearts of the savages occupying this land by implying that his God had turned their non-believing ancestors to stone? Within a generation or two, he’s given the credit in the folktales of the day. History is recorded by the victors.”

She frowned, not at all comfortable with the way he was twisting things. The idea that a man of God would deceive people that way in an effort to save their souls didn’t seem right.

“I suppose it makes sense, but that seems more like a twenty-first century rationalization to me.”

He shook his head. “Is it? The Bible itself lays the groundwork for such a thing by recording the way God turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt for daring to disobey him and look back. Take Jesus. He’s a man, whose not only the son of God but God himself—the very belief depicted in St Ronan’s cross. He turned water into wine, fed thousands with just a few loaves of bread and some fish, cured the sick, raised the dead, and rose from the depths of Hell to rule at the right hand of God, who is himself. You call them miracles. Do you not see how some would see that as akin to magic and the energies wielded by a powerful sorcerer?”

Marina nodded. “You’re well-versed in the Bible.”

“My Aunt Mary was a believer, a deeply … committed woman. We are all products of our environment, our thoughts and beliefs fed to us by what we’re told and what we learn on our own. Those lessons are often brutal and hard to ignore. Perhaps I’m a bit cynical, but in my life and profession, I’ve learned not to trust my senses and believe in only what I can prove, what I can control. We’ll make a great team, Marina. I know it.”

She smiled. Would they? Suddenly, she wasn’t quite so sure.

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

There comes a time when you have to admit that things aren’t working for you any longer, and that time has come. Today, my bathroom renovations begin. In fact, the contractor will be here in less than half an hour.

I keep thinking about all the questions I should have asked, like will you need to cut the power? How long will the water be off? and coutless others. I realized as I removed the curtain that I’d forgotten to get a new curtain rod. Problem solved. Can’t beat Amazon for quick service.

So, what am I having done? Everything. New tub, new toilet, new towel tower, new vanity, new mirror, new lighting, new towel bars, you name it. I’ve even decided to make it a theme bathroom, but you’ll have to wait until it’s finished to see that!

So, as my house gets ready to be plunged into chaos, I dream of what’s to come. Enjoy your week. Mine will defintely be different.

Welcome back! This week, Tuesday Tales’ word prompt is QUICK. As always, I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones. Do you like people who try to force their opinions on you? I prefer to make my own decisions.

“I don’t want to upset you, but my colleague warned me that some of the more superstitious people on the island are talking. We both saw the way some of them looked at you at the castle, and those facts, along with the threats you’ve received, concern me,” James stated. “You could well be in danger and not just from Jerome Morrison and his schemes. You need to keep a level head on your shoulders and remember who you are, a Canadian woman, an heiress of incomparable beauty who’s come back to the land of her birth. You are not some magical sea creature, certainly not the answer to some ancient prophecy, nor the long-awaited messiah destined to save us all. Times have been as tough here as they have been elsewhere. The weather’s changing, the economy took a hit, and crime is on the rise. It’s just as well you didn’t come during the pandemic. People are quick to change sides when things don’t go their way. They could well have stoned you for failing to save the island from the virus.” He laughed. “Don’t let this nonsense go to your head. It won’t be long before some will expect you to step into Bronagh’s shoes and demand you grant their every wish and bless their babies, too. It’s ridiculous, and we both know it. It’s better to disabuse them of that nonsense and set them straight right away. The only magic concoctions you’ll be brewing will be the food you’ll serve your guests at breakfast. While I’ve no doubt it will be delicious, I can guarantee the dishes will have no supernatural qualities.”

Marina frowned. For someone who didn’t like the idea of people foisting their beliefs on him, he was doing a hell of a job of imposing his on her. While they certainly seemed logical on the surface, that nagging feeling that there was more to what he was saying ate at her once more.

“I’ve never considered myself special in any way, and as for powers, magic or otherwise, certainly not something originating in the sea. If I did have some abilities, I wouldn’t even know how to use them. I don’t want anyone seeing me as some kind of savior. I can barely look after myself. I’m here to manage Fraser Hall and the estate I inherited, nothing more. I’ll do whatever I can for the island and its people, but as you’ve so clearly said, I’m nothing special.”

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.