Update March 10, 2015
Greetings from the frozen wastelands of the Great White North! It seems Blizgulis has decided to pay a visit to places that previously knew snow and real cold only as myths. To those readers who come from places where 40 degrees is bitterly cold, all I can say is, “Welcome to my world.” I do feel bad for those of you who’ve never had to experience snow suddenly finding you have two feet to deal with. That’s a lot of snow by any measure. If your town doesn’t have the equipment to plow the roads, it’s a nightmare.
In my world, we got a full season’s worth of snow, about six feet, in two weeks. It didn’t snow before then, and it hasn’t since. It’s been miserably cold though. The temperature didn’t break freezing the entire month of February. It reached 38 Saturday, which was warm enough for me to do my errands wearing just a sweater. My father often pointed out that 45 degrees in January is a lot warmer than 45 degrees in July.
I had a near catastrophe last weekend. I’m not a particularly graceful person – my wife says for someone so small, I’m as gawmy as a new born moose (thanks, I love you too). That gracelessness is especially acute when my mind is wandering afield. I’ve slipped on the ice and landed on my ass twice in the last month simply because I wasn’t paying attention.
Last Sunday I brewed myself a cup of tea and grabbed a handful of gingersnap cookies to sip and nibble on while I caught up on emails and did a little writing. I set everything on my computer desk, but a cookie fell on the floor. As I picked it up, I bumped the desk and knocked over the cup of tea. Naturally, the spilled tea decided to go on my computer rather than the floor. There was nothing I could do but watch the liquid slither between the keys and drop in to visit the inner sanctum where the cyber gods reside.
I think the mildest thing I said was, “Oh shit! There goes the income tax refund.”
I may be gawmy at times, but I’m not a fool. The folder that carries all things Karen and Laci is almost 5 gigabytes in size. The only thing larger than that is my music library, which comes in at about 30 gigs. There’s a lot of time, hard work, sweat, tears, smiles and laughter tied up in those 5 gigs of Karen and Laci. So I do a double back up of my Karen and Laci files at least once a week – once to a flash drive, and I pay for an automatic back up to “The Cloud”, whatever that is.
So Monday after work, my wife and I went computer shopping. What I got is decent enough, but there is a vast difference between the familiar Windows Vista of my old computer and the new-to-me Windows 8. It took a few hours just coming to grips with that. Then it took the better part of the rest of the week to unbackup everything, and reinstall the programs I need.
Needless to say, I didn’t get as much writing done this week as I’d hoped. So far I’ve gotten all the major scenes at least underway, and some are complete. Right now, the lion’s share of my writing energy is going into a scene I’ve labeled “Sex in an Empty House.” You’ll just have to wait to see what that’s all about.
I want to close out on a bittersweet note.
I’m sure you’re aware that I like to dedicate my chapters to someone who’s in some way helped me plow my way through the story of Karen and Laci. It’s important to me that I let someone know how much I appreciate their support.
If you go back to Chapter 4 – which is when the story actually morphed into what it is now – you’ll see a dedication that reads simply, “For Nicole C – RIP.”
I never knew Nicole C except through the local news. She was a beautiful 15 year old girl from a rural part of the state who went missing some time back. Her disappearance was big news around here, and I don’t think anyone was surprised when her body was found dumped in the woods like so much trash, murdered.
Her killer was arrested in fairly short order, a 20ish guy she’d been known to hang out with on occasion. The details are largely irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that this slimy slug snuffed out the life of a beautiful, vulnerable, naive girl looking for love.
The wheels of justice move very slowly. It’s coming on two years since her death, but the prosecution used that time to build a slam-dunk case. They gave this puddle of rancid jizz a chance to come clean in return for some leniency. He refused. He fully intended to put Nicole’s parents through the agony of reliving the details of her death. This creature is an especially loathsome specimen of filth. His entire defense rested on blaming his ex girlfriend.
The case was complicated, yet really simple. After a week of testimony, the jury retired. Those twelve people told the disgusting worm what they thought of his cowardly “defense” in a loud, clear voice. It took them 45 minutes to find him guilty on all counts.
It’s my sincere hope that this bucket of putrid phlegm’s ass becomes a fuck-hole for every tatted up skinhead thug in the state prison. Take a good look at the prison complex snake – it’s where you’re going to die.
Maybe now Nicole is in fact resting in peace.