tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26676205983660619142024-03-13T13:23:43.085-04:00The Blog Where Horror DwellsThe Editor Formerly Known as Mr. Deathrealm. Author of BLUE DEVIL ISLAND, THE NIGHTMARE FRONTIER, THE LEBO COVEN, DARK SHADOWS: DREAMS OF THE DARK (with Elizabeth Massie), BALAK, YOUNG BLOOD (with Mat & Myron Smith), et. al. Feed at your own risk.Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.comBlogger1615125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-512869736569495852024-03-12T17:41:00.008-04:002024-03-13T13:23:10.506-04:00Smith Mountain Lake Adventures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeDlhVTw5ojAbQxXFp3ddXb8dIlWOWloYfMa97TfKBdg7n7T_PL3zGxQ1e6MX3gnnfZvLeheSV8kVDQLsW6emFbRtuG5bcJLOWKrxciQoLuFk1WuxZoIo6Zzmv-u6YmugUvTp_mkoUodCOyhiojB_oPkY4tMz1E4rKpmuqisJgPxM85RcZWCjayQOhosc/s2000/20240312_132331.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1103" height="489" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeDlhVTw5ojAbQxXFp3ddXb8dIlWOWloYfMa97TfKBdg7n7T_PL3zGxQ1e6MX3gnnfZvLeheSV8kVDQLsW6emFbRtuG5bcJLOWKrxciQoLuFk1WuxZoIo6Zzmv-u6YmugUvTp_mkoUodCOyhiojB_oPkY4tMz1E4rKpmuqisJgPxM85RcZWCjayQOhosc/s16000/20240312_132331.jpg" /></a>
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It's been a pretty good while since I've headed out on a solo geocaching
adventure, and since today's weather looked about as perfect as perfect gets
for such a thing, I set out for
<a href="https://www.dcr.virginia.gov/state-parks/smith-mountain-lake" target="_blank"><b>Smith Mountain Lake State Park</b></a>, about an hour north of home. Several years ago, Ms. B. and I picnicked, hiked, cached, and generally made merry at the park, and I haven't been
back since.
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<div>
On the way, I stopped to go after an Adventure Lab cache at the
<b><a href="https://www.nps.gov/bowa/index.htm" target="_blank">Booker T. Washington National Monument</a></b>
park, which Brugger and I had also visited for some gecoaching back in the
dark ages. It's a lovely location, its story both sad and uplifting, and I'm
glad to see the park so well maintained. My favorite moment was walking past a
pig pen, where a big old pig was lounging in some mud. I said, "Hallo, Pig!"
and the pig raised its head and gave me a big loud snort in response. After
that... alas... it appeared to have no further interest in conversing.
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<div>
Once at the lake, I set out hiking, grabbed caches, and discovered several of
the most difficult paths I could have ever taken to get from Point A to Point
B. Bear in mind, I do this very reliably, hence my perpetual admonition to any
fellow hikers to follow me at their own risk. Some of the
wiser ones, such as friends<b> Scott</b> and <b>Natalie</b>, have taken this
advice to heart and almost always go their own ways when we come to
challenging terrain. Oh, ye of little faith!
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<div> </div>
<div>
Once I snagged all the caches I needed this go-round at the park (which means
I've completed <i>all</i> the active caches currently in the park), I stopped
for a late lunch at a little pizzeria/bar & grill called
<b><a href="https://alessandrospizzeria.com/" target="_blank">Alessandro's</a></b>, not far from the lake. A decent burger, and great service. To
finish out the caching day, I hit the little burg of <b>Moneta</b>, just a
few miles away, and knocked out all the caches there (five of them).
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<div>
To head home, I threaded my way down every little back road between Smith
Mountain Lake and Martinsville. Very scenic, though to be out in the middle of
nowhere, there sure was a lot traffic, made worse by numerous very poor drivers who could have gone twice their velocity and still come up shy of the speed limit. People, you are harshing my mellow.
Otherwise, though, a lovely day of it.
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Damn right, I'll take it. The way I see it, mellow days are to be treasured.
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
My loquacious pig friend at the Booker T. Washington National Monument
park<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaawGCD2RpJDRyD8HfMhj0iwJUvQv_nrgaWVgNzlTO_fDNjgNqMGsfzxeQM_guNlUM6U0hSmBy8kS8y4d-jxwnGkKBjtHnp1iBgxcdfN7tzaXfFJrjEIJAvSpyA0YWa5M1SYKKPu5AE-YnArEIb0rYHqStgVun_3YiHmqu2LuhMvcmvDdsUIwa5fnmrvC/s1600/20240312_123443.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1021" data-original-width="1886" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaawGCD2RpJDRyD8HfMhj0iwJUvQv_nrgaWVgNzlTO_fDNjgNqMGsfzxeQM_guNlUM6U0hSmBy8kS8y4d-jxwnGkKBjtHnp1iBgxcdfN7tzaXfFJrjEIJAvSpyA0YWa5M1SYKKPu5AE-YnArEIb0rYHqStgVun_3YiHmqu2LuhMvcmvDdsUIwa5fnmrvC/s1600/20240312_123443.jpg" width="516" /></a>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Some Country for Old Men<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW_Lnblr4VMm-Gp5PlQwPOeGlQLLkOTQV0snj3fQDgRWiBRM7lmopMlwErNyziVzuNbiluKAXZpFKPO1bU6zGhETfe-rtPHl7QDL3CQWSHRvRMzCqLZxu-IKIblBwcvVip9bBpP8loPiiIuUcbRf7YQaJb-XBf2nY8GixP7xVWKqdSv8n6x7y0XFD1ekW/s1600/20240312_124144-EDIT.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSW_Lnblr4VMm-Gp5PlQwPOeGlQLLkOTQV0snj3fQDgRWiBRM7lmopMlwErNyziVzuNbiluKAXZpFKPO1bU6zGhETfe-rtPHl7QDL3CQWSHRvRMzCqLZxu-IKIblBwcvVip9bBpP8loPiiIuUcbRf7YQaJb-XBf2nY8GixP7xVWKqdSv8n6x7y0XFD1ekW/s1600/20240312_124144-EDIT.jpg" width="516" /></a>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Ancient wall along one of the lake trails<br />
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<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZfKTVHMl_DR8hXtyIcLNjR0yMPS2WYOZyIvC8hGEje3yRWdIw8DeLrzoZwS5jHHzPgHxWfMgYQmzK6AKXMhyfZlw3-jmoqkFPsz7K224Zgrrrdb5325bVVy-sXcOKKUJJnu_T3VxBckqVcaOqegnW9FJ6ei4E1d8-DOxJYFprEpIL-R45Dcv9LVDmWhy/s1600/20240312_123910.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZfKTVHMl_DR8hXtyIcLNjR0yMPS2WYOZyIvC8hGEje3yRWdIw8DeLrzoZwS5jHHzPgHxWfMgYQmzK6AKXMhyfZlw3-jmoqkFPsz7K224Zgrrrdb5325bVVy-sXcOKKUJJnu_T3VxBckqVcaOqegnW9FJ6ei4E1d8-DOxJYFprEpIL-R45Dcv9LVDmWhy/s1600/20240312_123910.jpg" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkHBvmqP8ijPXd8c7uImQ_LZRJAuqB2445cEl-Fe5s0n-6cDtS-9uuLbOsqvhDw048wg4H1HHB-_mcd4r0N8VXHbo25-_MSz3uOZ4ZwzbljxlC_sAoJD9bDhc52-Z1mhhS-1hOSOY57afVQ8OeUqx07LQ4H2__NG08M7i3_-K6zr_tJ0gdwfu-CNddn5U/s1600/20240312_122041.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkHBvmqP8ijPXd8c7uImQ_LZRJAuqB2445cEl-Fe5s0n-6cDtS-9uuLbOsqvhDw048wg4H1HHB-_mcd4r0N8VXHbo25-_MSz3uOZ4ZwzbljxlC_sAoJD9bDhc52-Z1mhhS-1hOSOY57afVQ8OeUqx07LQ4H2__NG08M7i3_-K6zr_tJ0gdwfu-CNddn5U/s1600/20240312_122041.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">A couple of friends found along the way</span><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-FmsrWLCHxyRWrcKufw-vTo1JCxZrNxw6GvaC6nTnXPaYtgFl38SKn5Z9SlkQRjekGtBXE-EiGdoC_tixY1e7X-pC9miPWK9yVk8cxUlbKtB3VLnjDkK1tJzfDiiTbYR_y1BU9qjWwg0xJvmQWu_EroShZYTkBTptTGPGh-kPmSTlXXeyefoxx8jZ3d0/s1600/20240312_112235.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1165" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-FmsrWLCHxyRWrcKufw-vTo1JCxZrNxw6GvaC6nTnXPaYtgFl38SKn5Z9SlkQRjekGtBXE-EiGdoC_tixY1e7X-pC9miPWK9yVk8cxUlbKtB3VLnjDkK1tJzfDiiTbYR_y1BU9qjWwg0xJvmQWu_EroShZYTkBTptTGPGh-kPmSTlXXeyefoxx8jZ3d0/s1600/20240312_112235.jpg" width="516" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dammit, I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-FmsrWLCHxyRWrcKufw-vTo1JCxZrNxw6GvaC6nTnXPaYtgFl38SKn5Z9SlkQRjekGtBXE-EiGdoC_tixY1e7X-pC9miPWK9yVk8cxUlbKtB3VLnjDkK1tJzfDiiTbYR_y1BU9qjWwg0xJvmQWu_EroShZYTkBTptTGPGh-kPmSTlXXeyefoxx8jZ3d0/s1600/20240312_112235.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"></a>
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Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-29345658530684777282024-03-07T16:24:00.010-05:002024-03-07T16:58:02.316-05:00Extending the Dick & Willie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9FqcsCU0gdWQt7YbovcUM7MY2jxfpPlVqXGqePTxWd6tbVkFO1TcskvIbOYc5JmJjlQXQsP7W0LgA624EL8prWiXjblEK6Cb7zPYwHQ9TX33GMz0QTjqn_UqmoblfaE7d8z6GLgZC8JbtwfMdFscychLd7Jai5JTqnFHvnC73WzpT4lUa0FpLZvQQcOv/s2000/20240307_125308.jpg"
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I shit you not, the
<b
><a href="https://www.facebook.com/DickandWillieTrail/" target="_blank"
>Dick & Willie</a
></b
> has gotten longer. Yes, about two decades ago, the old
<b>Danville & Western</b> rail line — commonly known as the "<b
>Dick & Willie Line</b
>" — closed down, and the tracks through a fair portion of Martinsville were
converted to the <b>Dick & Willie Rail Trail</b>. For several years,
we had a continuous 4.5-mile section of trail completed, but three or four
years ago, a new, 2.5-mile section opened up at the eastern end of town,
terminating at the <b>Smith River Sports Center </b>on Spruce
Street. That has left approximately four miles of trail to be completed,
thus connecting the two ends. As of just a few weeks ago, a new, 2-mile leg
along <b>Mulberry Creek</b> opened up, which Ms. B. and I hiked out today, and
it is by far the most scenic, relatively isolated part of the trail.
Eventually, it is slated to extend even farther from the current northwestern
terminus at Commonwealth Boulevard & Virginia Avenue and connect with the
<b
><a
href="https://www.virginia.org/listing/fieldale-walking-trail/7182/"
target="_blank"
>Fieldale-Smith River Trail</a
></b
>, a few miles to the northeast.
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<div>
It goes without saying that I have already populated with local trails with
numerous geocaches, but the new D & W extension certainly begs for several
more. I plan to oblige, more likely sooner than later. As it is, I discovered
today that I need to perform maintenance on a couple of my older caches out
there, so that will be my next geocaching priority.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
We encountered several folks today riding e-bikes on the trail, and the lure
to avail ourselves to such devices is strong. Perhaps once Ms. B. is again
gainfully employed, we'll set us ourselves up with a couple.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>For now, hike on!</div>
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Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-58592457607487911082024-03-03T17:56:00.002-05:002024-03-07T10:09:48.290-05:00Speakeasy on Starling<p></p>
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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZpZet9HQwePHXFz19V0ukPdS-yJEEuflA9ZmmKsvmrbZENTwdfyf3MQ60hJvtMujx3_AiBL1QUKha_jYeXmE3o2apcALOQHBzgUpr-p4yu9Yk_LJC_QhquWei5srPRh25Q710KMjtDUpUzuxSEyaZUObVZ_deL4kH2sc74C0zEq_o4b7eUzwxzIXrOoz/s3463/20240302_201905.jpg"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZpZet9HQwePHXFz19V0ukPdS-yJEEuflA9ZmmKsvmrbZENTwdfyf3MQ60hJvtMujx3_AiBL1QUKha_jYeXmE3o2apcALOQHBzgUpr-p4yu9Yk_LJC_QhquWei5srPRh25Q710KMjtDUpUzuxSEyaZUObVZ_deL4kH2sc74C0zEq_o4b7eUzwxzIXrOoz/s16000/20240302_201905.jpg"
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALApBsNWs4Bagwj-25SuJco9NviMlfENsuLGuBUikGYPVrZAFtBJm3wRmPo2nw7r7qXMB5gZvl5UqnfRxIV2TUhx94bPc-EjyxQ5aBcpQefgqZbOrQdHwP3UiXaUzQ8bbODe-Nzxw2EgT0z-Z2oVgmRPsFLtNr7KZ1Laj8G6qFC288ffo0VgpN35MhvR6/s3591/20240304_100725.jpg"
imageanchor="1"
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><img
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data-original-height="3591"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALApBsNWs4Bagwj-25SuJco9NviMlfENsuLGuBUikGYPVrZAFtBJm3wRmPo2nw7r7qXMB5gZvl5UqnfRxIV2TUhx94bPc-EjyxQ5aBcpQefgqZbOrQdHwP3UiXaUzQ8bbODe-Nzxw2EgT0z-Z2oVgmRPsFLtNr7KZ1Laj8G6qFC288ffo0VgpN35MhvR6/s16000/20240304_100725.jpg" height="444"></a>
</div>
<div><br>
Friends <b>Bob</b> & <b>Yvonne</b> accompanied Brugger and me to a unique
and entertaining event last night at the
<b
><a href="https://www.vmnh.net/" target="_blank"
>Virginia Museum of Natural History</a
> </b
>— "<b>Speakeasy on Starling</b>" it was called ("Starling" referring to the
street address of the Museum). This was a fun, fund-raising event for which
you really got your money's worth — heavy hors d'oeuvres (good ones, too!),
beer, wine, and other spirits, including a bourbon and mojito tasting. Some
damn good bourbons on hand, I must admit. The tasting quantities were small,
but they packed a pretty good wallop. A silent auction of some particularly
nice spirits (none of us won) and a Velociraptor egg hunt, which netted
everyone a nice little prize (a Long Island Iced Tea for me), added to the
fun. Most entertaining was that, in order to learn the whereabouts of the
bourbon tasting, you had to follow clues around the museum and then be
escorted to it by staff member/journalist/friend <b>Ben R. Williams</b>. I
also encountered a couple of old friends from days long past in the old
hometown.
</div>
<div>
<br />
<div>
Afterward, our gang retired to Ground Zero, where we enjoyed some rocking
tunes and sampled a few more spirits. I'd love to see the museum make this a
regular event. It was a touch of what we figure some much-needed culture in
our little burg. Plus, that museum is full of dinosaurs. I figure you can't
go too far wrong with spirits and dinosaurs.
</div>
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>The password was "Claws," by the way.</div>
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style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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data-original-height="2268"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRllCm8oBEVQRL7uxatybmx0k2xmxBLFG03p4SEnj6y_eN5B2sIrNomUpO-Iqh5gQ4Q9SRTq31ayodlCDpGdY4kDgTPfKEpwTl4L-FtbuZdg2mLkMS48Wll-tbeHAX2xOR0CXne7E4GWXE56CdKs5XnM1KXJQAkGjFk6JmRZd3qRQBoPW68ZGYQxjTxMjj/s16000/20240302_195642.jpg" width="516"
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
A velociraptor photobombing the group making their way to the bourbon
tasting
</td>
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</tbody>
</table>
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Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-19931673543895627862024-02-28T13:31:00.003-05:002024-02-28T13:34:04.762-05:00Grave Treasures!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://cemeterytravel.com/2024/02/28/deaths-garden-contributor-stephen-mark-rainey/" style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_i02r5-RUImjeev9uSIc-pG0v-W5BsVt-yR2VPaf5rnPoqTT510FeV_QWwGxSTJtnhxVrcuZ5NRSDz7LCI7HeMdKvmzm4txFnnXaHU8kIIxTvuuA0oJFmWKahIJ3NIDZMri7_EJuBUob8TN39yP_Du4l_B9VIo56BUggcA-dLz0BW_tsQo819UMgfqcI/s1600/IMG_20150502_122157.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div>
<b>Grave treasures!</b> A little interview at
<b><i><a href="https://cemeterytravel.com/2024/02/28/deaths-garden-contributor-stephen-mark-rainey/" target="_blank">Cemetery Travel</a></i></b>
about "things" you might find in the land of the dead.
</div>
<div align="center">
<hr />
<a href="https://cemeterytravel.com/2024/02/28/deaths-garden-contributor-stephen-mark-rainey/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Cemetery Travel</i> — "Grave Treasures"</b></span></a>
<hr />
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-37438634810564462312024-02-27T10:50:00.002-05:002024-02-27T10:50:16.977-05:00Distant Early Warning Alert:Scares That Care Presents AuthorCon III!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a target="_blank" href="https://scaresthatcare.org/authorcon-iii"><img
border="0"
data-original-height="400"
data-original-width="828"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVG8R0gDWcWVC1nDvAMXk_IrdWRTb9qLSMb9ze42mmXVYCqlxHKO-Rkil6rYhBP53zi2mKf4Rw6F6ME1C9kC2IziiGYgLcK9UmKdjGR20QppNKp3HABHpKMlQVM6siDOWO55THaaw4iHW1KNT3P24gDLCFLBgTruhlR49p2rRcxT5p0dAipZqMMtNWT7hh/s16000/scaresthatcare.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</div>
<div>
It's coming up on the horizon —
<b
><a href="https://scaresthatcare.org/authorcon-iii" target="_blank"
>Scares That Care Presents AuthorCon 3</a
></b
> — happening at the
<b
><a
href="https://www.hilton.com/en/book/reservation/rooms/?ctyhocn=WBGKRDT&arrivalDate=2024-04-11&departureDate=2024-04-15&groupCode=CDTAUT&room1NumAdults=1&cid=OM%2CWW%2CHILTONLINK%2CEN%2CDirectLink"
target="_blank"
>Doubletree by Hilton Hotel Williamsburg</a
></b
>, <b>April 12–14, 2024</b>. It's one of the best gatherings of
horror/fantasy/science-fiction authors and fans on the planet, and I'll be
there at the
<b
><a href="https://www.crossroadpress.com/" target="_blank"
>Crossroad Press</a
></b
>
table in the hotel's Promenade area, with plenty of copies of
<i style="font-weight: bold;"
><a
href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09XFXVBDN/&tag=thereaofstema-20"
target="_blank"
>Fugue Devil: Resurgence</a
>,
<a
href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C87P23MF/&tag=thereaofstema-20"
target="_blank"
>Deathrealm: Spirits</a
>, </i
><b
><i
><a
href="https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Devil-Island-Stephen-Rainey-ebook/dp/B015Z3KR7M/?&tag=thereaofstema-20"
target="_blank"
>Blue Devil Island</a
></i
></b
>, my various
<b
><i
><a
href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=ameri-scares&i=stripbooks&crid=O6041S5AYY6T&sprefix=ameri-scares"
target="_blank"
>Ameri-Scares</a
></i
></b
>
titles, and many others on hand.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
AuthorCon 3 includes hundreds of authors, a massive dealers' room, and
top-notch programming. This year's guests of honor are <b
>Carver Pike, Aron Beauregard, Daniel J. Volpe, Kristopher Rufty, Eric
LaRocca, Grady Hendrix, Paul Tremblay, John Langan, Valancourt Books,
Michael Cisco, L. Marie Wood, Bryan Smith, Clay McLeod Chapman, Sherrilyn
Kenyon, Chesya Burke, </b
>and <b>R.J. Benetti.</b>
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>Hope to see you there.</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<hr />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"
><b
><a href="https://scaresthatcare.org/authorcon-iii" target="_blank"
>Visit the Scares That Care Presents AuthorCon 3 Website</a
></b
></span
>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div align="center">
<iframe
allowfullscreen=""
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loading="lazy"
referrerpolicy="no-referrer-when-downgrade"
src="https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m14!1m8!1m3!1d12704.449078324567!2d-76.66648569317626!3d37.245043675609196!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!3m3!1m2!1s0x89b0886b421fda3b%3A0x8d97ff0140bcb2a2!2sDoubleTree%20by%20Hilton%20Williamsburg!5e0!3m2!1sen!2sus!4v1709048707618!5m2!1sen!2sus"
style="border: 0;"
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</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-42523155316478039952024-02-26T15:12:00.005-05:002024-02-26T16:50:10.279-05:00It's Just Overkill<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEzm1YzxTrGuja1xaNqtQ45oH1je7vpicz5ZDy3Jr-h5Hkx92dF3KY2Um_e05OyOJtpqMDNxtqkxVQ3pMzof-e-ifVap04zT-xx_R0auO5CnuurMF4It77blqX4G_IV5FwS0V_IxcZo78ZxfMwto7YFI2K6qSz8KbSUQSfSnAlxpwfA-bztqKKhY1WAbH/s3470/20240226_121555.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1880" data-original-width="3470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEzm1YzxTrGuja1xaNqtQ45oH1je7vpicz5ZDy3Jr-h5Hkx92dF3KY2Um_e05OyOJtpqMDNxtqkxVQ3pMzof-e-ifVap04zT-xx_R0auO5CnuurMF4It77blqX4G_IV5FwS0V_IxcZo78ZxfMwto7YFI2K6qSz8KbSUQSfSnAlxpwfA-bztqKKhY1WAbH/s16000/20240226_121555.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div>
After my morning walk, I planned to spend the rest of the day writing. I ended
up taking a much longer walk than usual, and when I got home, it was
lunchtime. So, I decided to build a fire in the fire pit and cook a couple of hot
dogs for lunch. They were yummy. But while out there, I realized the yard
needed some serious work, and... before I knew what had happened... I found
myself doing serious yard work.
</div>
<br />
<div>
After that, my arms fell off, but I've still gotta write. I hope my laptop
takes good dictation.
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcigzIQBtGsdVNcWLf9TUbyBC5nv4FPgycUZPay2yiUZjz0Z9HXcZfEuGjxV3oB_-B_d-8YcB23ezsy-myVcxU73wxNV1XOKepYuW-O7noZvTUXsZorUv9VdfWoa3aB00Bsqh9y2IrpceGuEjfN_N_e-dxBSal0VBQvors8nRwTRfaCVBNnlBx7aNxM28/s1600/20240226_121526.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="3586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcigzIQBtGsdVNcWLf9TUbyBC5nv4FPgycUZPay2yiUZjz0Z9HXcZfEuGjxV3oB_-B_d-8YcB23ezsy-myVcxU73wxNV1XOKepYuW-O7noZvTUXsZorUv9VdfWoa3aB00Bsqh9y2IrpceGuEjfN_N_e-dxBSal0VBQvors8nRwTRfaCVBNnlBx7aNxM28/s1600/20240226_121526.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-43647172963335907362024-02-18T17:31:00.004-05:002024-02-18T17:45:43.215-05:00The Smith River, a Haunted Island, and the Spooky Place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVT1MyvYMISfs7adA8zOzlz30i5upsAO0MvtnNAAgZWyGDXqKD9Nll1v8LEX-XgxwYO45dwWzwc8eRzN-3KbGS2edT-rF7uGMRxfM5_AnBhCeuQwcXMTvurESCw373oxUL2i3qlOqNr1owxNj4uZC5NIppN3RQmH_qP-07rTuyzigdPh8j6ycAKwisvoQ/s2000/20240218_145341.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1085" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVT1MyvYMISfs7adA8zOzlz30i5upsAO0MvtnNAAgZWyGDXqKD9Nll1v8LEX-XgxwYO45dwWzwc8eRzN-3KbGS2edT-rF7uGMRxfM5_AnBhCeuQwcXMTvurESCw373oxUL2i3qlOqNr1owxNj4uZC5NIppN3RQmH_qP-07rTuyzigdPh8j6ycAKwisvoQ/s16000/20240218_145341.jpg" width="516" /></a>
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</div>
<br />
<div>
Almost every day, I walk somewhere between three and four miles around our
neighborhood, which has done wonders for my physical and mental health. This
afternoon, Ms. B. and I decided to go walking out on the
<b><a href="https://www.virginia.org/listing/fieldale-walking-trail/7182/" target="_blank">Fieldale-Smith River Trail</a></b>, which is my favorite of the trails in this area. In 2009 and 2010, I loaded
up a mile-plus length of the trail with geocaches, and they're all still
active. Yesterday, in fact, a group of geocachers found them all. Just for
good measure, I decided to give each of the caches a physical check-up, and I
was pleased to find them in decent condition. One of them (called "<b>Haunted Island</b>") involves a little tree climbing, and since that's one of my favorite
physical activities, up I went (the view in the photo to the left is actually from up in the tree). I even managed to get back down.</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
My favorite of the trail's attractions is the view of the old
<b>Koehler Warehouse</b> across the river on Route 57, which I've always
called "<b>The Spooky Place</b>" because it was the site of the Martinsville
Jaycees' infamous Halloween Haunted Castle when I was a teenager and a bit
beyond. For a couple of tales of my sordid adventures in the Haunted Castle,
you may visit my article at the
<b><a href="https://horror.org/halloween-haunts-the-spooky-place-by-stephen-mark-rainey/" target="_blank">Horror Writers Association Blog here</a></b>. Don't be afeared... much.
</div>
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</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
A view of the Spooky Place without the spooky people in the way
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
A view of the Smith River from the trail
</td>
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<td style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gsZS9SDFEODLAtWytDiAzNgRL6wZuMbD0djZCoDk_H2RIWDsEvviVdAeHdqGyO1gVL8QNTEQUMgrTsGCIys0A8v8OcWvnZ9A4SimLa0vx_WMp-vlAv9a3V9p99lTlhKdOfqfR7q-EgN0bZuOcZ3AMzYIzRtdbmbHuqYddnw5GiEn8iPd8ecG-Abrx3p4/s2000/20240218_152218.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gsZS9SDFEODLAtWytDiAzNgRL6wZuMbD0djZCoDk_H2RIWDsEvviVdAeHdqGyO1gVL8QNTEQUMgrTsGCIys0A8v8OcWvnZ9A4SimLa0vx_WMp-vlAv9a3V9p99lTlhKdOfqfR7q-EgN0bZuOcZ3AMzYIzRtdbmbHuqYddnw5GiEn8iPd8ecG-Abrx3p4/s16000/20240218_152218.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</td>
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<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree damage!</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
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<td style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbMMxm2bQlaimgKEfu-2igEKtxM4sddJFddu4s_5EipANsheO7bHY5imrEEbJdhBho1cSCGqMw8pPzp06f6YIg0UcHcJxiV0GcVNIEZ0gHnmzNUdacnfogg5NjlbQl2MeATv89JpgFaZ4zjm0M9caVFIkse2RIyCb8z9NBUmL7mMKsDBMj9WJ8wQXShca4/s2000/20240218_153601.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1279" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbMMxm2bQlaimgKEfu-2igEKtxM4sddJFddu4s_5EipANsheO7bHY5imrEEbJdhBho1cSCGqMw8pPzp06f6YIg0UcHcJxiV0GcVNIEZ0gHnmzNUdacnfogg5NjlbQl2MeATv89JpgFaZ4zjm0M9caVFIkse2RIyCb8z9NBUmL7mMKsDBMj9WJ8wQXShca4/s16000/20240218_153601.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
A happy little community of mushrooms Ms. B. discovered
</td>
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</table>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-65490977848267206322024-02-15T17:45:00.009-05:002024-02-15T23:14:09.335-05:00Happy, Horrific Valentine’s Day and Damned Rodan’s Madre de Dios Spiked Salsa<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHK4P-RIR_plZwlp6FkLrc1-Nlw1pXZ0j2FIlb3tikr_6vvQkAFXgc_7yJps-5RuyapZxlLlgxj-o_JFOlLksbtq5XqZdBJyisundIS4XXBNgESTHhxcG-cN4MMITv5FgDknvQ_TZo4rZpfGoi1dCyErj0k7u6X5XgP_bkxkj81urloaDWf41oXYnnL_cy/s1600/20240214_195806.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1104" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHK4P-RIR_plZwlp6FkLrc1-Nlw1pXZ0j2FIlb3tikr_6vvQkAFXgc_7yJps-5RuyapZxlLlgxj-o_JFOlLksbtq5XqZdBJyisundIS4XXBNgESTHhxcG-cN4MMITv5FgDknvQ_TZo4rZpfGoi1dCyErj0k7u6X5XgP_bkxkj81urloaDWf41oXYnnL_cy/s1600/20240214_195806.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>While St. Valentine's Day might be a real "thing" in certain religious circles, neither Ms. B. nor I see it as much more than a typical "Hallmark Holiday." Still, we love having
a handy excuse to get a little fancy, go out for dinner, and drink
wine, that kind of thing. So, every year, Brugger gives me one of her beautiful
hand-made Valentine's Day cards, we get a little fancy, go out for dinner, and drink wine, that kind of thing. Last night, we treated ourselves to
<b><a href="http://www.raniasrestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Rania's</a></b> uptown, which is our go-to restaurant in Martinsville when we're looking
for something that resembles upscale. Their food is usually excellent, and it definitely hit the spot last night. A bottle of Chateau Ste Michelle Cabernet Sauvignon
(2018 vintage), which was decent; Veal Scallopini for me; and Baked Ziti with
Meatballs for Ms. B. The place does have a lovely atmosphere as well.
<div><br /></div>
<div>
This weekend, friends <b>Joe</b> and <b>Suzy</b> are hosting a gathering
where folks bring their own homemade salsa, so I spent a portion of the
afternoon conjuring up
<b>Damned Rodan's <i>Madre de Dios</i> Spiked Salsa</b>, which gets its heat from a combination of cayenne, jalapeno, habanero, and ghost pepper in the
ingredients. I'd post the recipe if I had one, but for this, I just gathered
all the stuff that one puts into fresh salsa (Campari tomatoes, onion, green
onions, cilantro, lime juice, garlic, cumin, chili powder, lemon pepper, and
the various peppers; chopped everything up; and threw it together in what
looked like reasonable proportions. I hit the mix with our immersion blender
and... <i>voilà</i>! Damned Rodan's <i>Madre de Dios</i> Spiked Salsa. The
heat is not trivial, but the stuff is fookin delicious. Needless to say, I'll
probably never be able to duplicate it precisely.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Spent a portion of the afternoon on the
<b><a href="https://lovecraftzine.com/live-web-series/" target="_blank">Lovecraft eZine Podcast</a></b>
with host <b>Mike Davis</b> and author <b>Jeff Thomas</b>, which was a blast.
I hope to be meeting them both face-to-face for the first time in August at
<b><a href="https://necronomicon-providence.com/enter/" target="_blank">Necronomicon</a></b> in <b>Providence</b>, <b>RI</b>. And I managed a fair amount of forward
progress on my current novel,
<i style="font-weight: bold;">The House at Black Tooth Pond</i>.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>Till whenever...</div>
<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWC86YJ6uVT1LHiyHA3WP_t1qyjsgaLj41YgfmkaAHRy5pesKqXj7WMaMagcMRO-zjx6J0bGsaz0pCFChDvcg_8hPsO8uhQixM3ljGU_Pr57Dexfq78e12nIdrh__M-6S728tosN5X9xqM0NLdPsHXCKOqfcta_GjMOqe75FhRSUZrNIvf0i_axGWz5fI/s2000/20240215_122327.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWC86YJ6uVT1LHiyHA3WP_t1qyjsgaLj41YgfmkaAHRy5pesKqXj7WMaMagcMRO-zjx6J0bGsaz0pCFChDvcg_8hPsO8uhQixM3ljGU_Pr57Dexfq78e12nIdrh__M-6S728tosN5X9xqM0NLdPsHXCKOqfcta_GjMOqe75FhRSUZrNIvf0i_axGWz5fI/s16000/20240215_122327.jpg" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqQZlgRsNNC7iLBTT2vma6xIxmUcSoQ6y7499pmVAqZEowcYuZU8se9u5wYrbSvbUC9oosGIpkE6dQMosBN2dtAPJLCgdjnPpIdI7T312T4rcr9wCzRAukb2AQ8MVH0fWWmLWYN2m9lOJZRULjBTM7oTI9D82L_GWLtRt9fVAhOpvcG-SwlauaIUts_rQ/s1600/20240215_151326.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqQZlgRsNNC7iLBTT2vma6xIxmUcSoQ6y7499pmVAqZEowcYuZU8se9u5wYrbSvbUC9oosGIpkE6dQMosBN2dtAPJLCgdjnPpIdI7T312T4rcr9wCzRAukb2AQ8MVH0fWWmLWYN2m9lOJZRULjBTM7oTI9D82L_GWLtRt9fVAhOpvcG-SwlauaIUts_rQ/s1600/20240215_151326.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">
L: Brugger's homemade 2024 Valentine's Day card for the Old Dude; R: Damned Rodan's homemade<br /><em>Madre de Dios</em> Spiked Salsa</span></div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-3256181987682874912024-02-11T22:00:00.003-05:002024-02-11T22:00:43.073-05:00DEATHREALM: SPIRITS at Lovecraft eZine!<div align="center">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-kNjCh-ZXu8?si=m9vD7sjExsbKtc4U" title="YouTube video player" width="516"></iframe>
</div>
<b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kNjCh-ZXu8" target="_blank">Lovecraft eZine</a></b>
proprietor
<b><a href="https://lovecraftzine.com/" target="_blank">Mike Davis</a></b> was
kind enough to have me, authors
<b><a href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/authors/tony-tremblay/" target="_blank">Tony Tremblay</a></b>
and
<b><a href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/authors/david-niall-wilson/" target="_blank">David Niall Wilson</a>,</b>
and
<b><a href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/" target="_blank">Shortwave Publishing's</a>
<a href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/authors/alan-lastufka/" target="_blank">Alan Lastufka</a></b>
— on his weekly podcast to talk about
<b><i><a href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/catalog/deathrealm-spirits-horror-anthology/" target="_blank">Deathrealm: Spirits</a></i> </b>and the work within. It was a fun hour and a half, full of cosmic horror,
harrowing adventure, and daredevil stunts. Plus, a nice bunch of memories of the
legendary <b><a href="https://lovecraftzine.com/" target="_blank">Brian Lumley</a></b>, who passed away last month. Tune in!<br />
<div><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-kNjCh-ZXu8?si=m9vD7sjExsbKtc4U" target="_blank">Watch the Lovecraft eZine Podcast featuring<br /><em>Deathrealm: Spirits</em>, Brian Lumley, and More!</a></span></b></div></div>
<hr />Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-10715846363295868652024-02-08T19:58:00.012-05:002024-02-09T08:22:01.661-05:00Number 1 and Driving High<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1nS1WsGSzCCSMXq7btF7W8sX6-hMNkQGY1ipXeMIOcC9mGYsTS9KG01O0ubys7mH2R3fE5TueBYJ5cMUiK8-YcPm_N_tLaR3dX57cVaJwf0p8y-ED1ZdNivO4nnKWL6yz0sxxfdtqLYS1T-ueKIshEC0H9xMtGrTIqqItF_wOhztVnmCkKD1ZdtHxkvr/s1600/20240208_142543-EDIT.jpg"
style="display: block; padding: 0em 0; text-align: center; "
><img
alt=""
border="0"
data-original-height="1159"
data-original-width="2000"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1nS1WsGSzCCSMXq7btF7W8sX6-hMNkQGY1ipXeMIOcC9mGYsTS9KG01O0ubys7mH2R3fE5TueBYJ5cMUiK8-YcPm_N_tLaR3dX57cVaJwf0p8y-ED1ZdNivO4nnKWL6yz0sxxfdtqLYS1T-ueKIshEC0H9xMtGrTIqqItF_wOhztVnmCkKD1ZdtHxkvr/s1600/20240208_142543-EDIT.jpg" width="516"></a>
</div>
What a day. What a freaking day. A mixture of the best and the worst rolled into
one. It began last night when friend <b>Scott </b>(a.k.a. <b>Diefenbaker</b>)
came up from Asheboro to spend the night so we could head northward today to do
some serious geocaching. My daughter, Allison, also paid us a visit, and we had
an excellent sushi dinner at
<b><a href="https://www.goeatyamato.com/" target="_blank">Yamato</a></b
>. Afterward, we sat up fairly late with various drinks to keep us occupied
until bedtime.
<p></p>
<div>
Up and at 'em early this morning. Allison and I made breakfast—she made her
special scrambled eggs and I cooked up my Damned Rodan's Crematorium-Style
Bacon. Then Scott and I hit the road for Rocky Mount and Boones Mill,
thirty-some miles up the road toward Roanoke. We found several enjoyable
caches, a couple of which took us out on the highest, narrowest, windiest,
scariest fooken mountain road I have ever driven. You know those videos of
single-lane roads along cliffs, with sheer drop-offs on one side and a high
vertical wall on the other? This was kind of like that. Thanks be to Yog
Sothoth no vehicles came from the other direction because I fear that might
have been all she wrote for us.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
At the end of the scary mountain road, we had the pleasure of meeting fellow
geocacher, <b>Varunner7</b>, since she and her husband had placed a cache on
their property. A very pleasant caching conversation followed, and after a
while, off we went again, back toward Rocky Mount. We found lunch at a lovely
BBQ joint called the
<b
><a href="https://rockymountsmokehouse.com/" target="_blank"
>Rocky Mount Smokehouse</a
></b
>, where Scott and I both ordered brisket. We found it delightful.
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<a
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style="clear: left; margin-bottom: -2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="2000"
data-original-width="1510"
height="404"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXZz9hJxEVmiY1Y_naquk2kgtRQRkpAs7auexaKHg1R1PUN69CDH4UOy9R-dFaYECK8NBEJK-M7LoL1tBc9lvuKDbvDuKXvOcGhuQqjLlNQR57cQZUV5Xlmr-wBAaJsRCDdamCNlrO5eCRTPrj8cs9x15oUDA7x9MVs8AlUe7ef9ZOLqReeO1lrs2BGSc/s16000/20240208_140343.jpg"
/></a>
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Fun sign in the bathroom at the smokehouse
</td>
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<br />
<div>
Several years ago, Brugger and I had gone after a cache on a huge, steep ridge
on the outskirts of Rocky Mount. That cache has been long since archived, and
a newer one took its place relatively recently. Since it was very close to the
restaurant, Scott and I trekked up that remarkably steep incline and finally
hit the summit. It's rocky as hell and covered with cactus, which isn't
something you typically see around these parts. I indulged in all kinds of
acrobatics in precarious settings as I set about hunting the cache—something I
haven't been able to do much recently—but after a serious amount of time, we
came up empty. Based on some intel we received from Ms. Varunner7, we
concluded that the damned thing has already gone missing. Drat and alas.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Also in the "good shit" column, I received hopeful news about one of my recent
short stories from a publisher (which I'll remark upon later, when the word is
given), and, thanks to the big
<b
><a
href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/deathrealm-spirits-by-brian-keene-and-stephen-mark-rainey?ebook_deal"
target="_blank"
>Bookbub promotion</a
></b
>, which I detailed yesterday, <b style="font-style: italic;"
><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C87P23MF" target="_blank"
>Deathrealm: Spirits</a
> </b
>reached number 1 in sales on
<b
><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C87P23MF" target="_blank"
>Amazon.com</a
></b
>
in three categories: horror anthologies (Kindle), horror anthologies (books),
and fiction anthologies. It held onto that position for a full 24 hours, which
is a fair achievement. It slipped a few notches for a couple of hours this
evening, but then it climbed back into the lead positions.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>It's the little things that make one smile, wouldn't you say?</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
In the "bad shit" column, which does not make me smile, Ms. B. got laid off
from her job of 21 years, ignominiously and with a piss-poor severance deal.
Out of respect for Kim—certainly not for the company, which gets absolutely
none from me—I'll elaborate only a little. I hope this will prove a blessing
in disguise, as leaving one position behind for another sometimes does. I
feel horrible for her, though, because she loved that job and gave everything
to it that she had to give. That she was shown no more appreciation and
consideration than she was is disgraceful (note that this applies only to the
parent company, not the wonderful local bunch that we both worked with for
many, many years). Needless to say, this puts us in a bigger financial and
logistical bind than we'd been prepared to deal with. Still, we're in a better
place than many in similar circumstances, so I suppose there's that.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, tomorrow will bring what it's gonna bring, and we'll give it what for.
</div>
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<a
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style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1125"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVS-waAQ9k9-M2jM08btqH77ndFh3rPWhyphenhyphenE-3DlMxeLrYM43U0vq9tCRMGSAY5f-nimOJM3EWvHauIaKC7kH7RVv-57Mln_Wv9VFtWAlwriKfj8EYqF0xMTijdJChTc0W8cMrwpeb-J66D0xBoIb6VZEiaeKgYM5RFcFFF1am4Z9WdRYUDPfFonzDFS8i/s16000/20240208_142509.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Looking down at Rocky Mount from "Rocky Top"
</td>
</tr>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzQP5mTSynPEAlGLmun1mQK0YkqSg6dx1iaPrwfxTV20BQNPy0ygg6SRTZsgwUGqsPbQqX-sf7gFoINdRwLy4esLMyt7vpEAlYWFimuNBN7fKIL5p1sI_IJHvZhVP93xSxiO4XCtHGfSJAcUWtOfD1QiHq_-zx2K_AgCXkfCMfyfypXTvlZKbF6PFfHkl/s2000/20240208_142346.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
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width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
You might have to look carefully, but many of the rocks are
covered in little cactus plants
</td>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgAk3Nk_MLTVxNqbKSH6fEvwGTEdwKwysHH-OFezpiklo3fFO4P43lPz_2fK1F0FTZDj_v7jhlFFm2QvSDeJJ-cQhKFoUuo7Xg7aFxNtFDInrGjjKyAY5tdV2XF6U6HABQV99kKvNFVKgn8UbYifuFNeB0NgiY4seOWsw195R8tcbCb0RSCNaMP3efIvp/s2000/20240208_145114.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
One of the crevices I explored along the cliff face
</td>
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<a
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Old Dude at "Rocky Top" on Christmas Day, 2011, photo by Ms. B.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-44819958468988583592024-02-07T10:31:00.003-05:002024-02-07T12:51:32.820-05:00DEATHREALM: SPIRITS Bookbub Deal!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a target="_blank" href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/deathrealm-spirits-by-brian-keene-and-stephen-mark-rainey?ebook_deal&source=twitter_DUP_share"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQ84kisme6y4k7JC_7BDh_VBHj7mNO0jT8J47l-ngV2Lz8j6jfRX29-5G_euxm9CJn1JRu5POHRYYvtVWN1AEEz8Ob64RBd7YhhGoAUfmnmj6iKu4dXP2UbOC5Wr89AU5Hrb3-jHhjp60JsbIsv2TkKeMqDjfxX8vTSnBuSeXr1HYATxRCAk4FmWTX3PE/s16000/BookBub%20Social%20Ad1.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div><span style="color: #990000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>From</b></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: medium;"> Bookbub...</span></b></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">With terrifying tales from Bram Stoker Award–winning authors
<b>Brian Keene</b>, <b>Elizabeth Massie</b>, <b>Joe R. Lansdale</b>, and
other masters of the genre, this recently released anthology is filled with
unsettling horrors that will keep you anxiously turning pages…</span>
</div>
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: medium;">Publisher Description</span></b></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b><i>Deathrealm: Spirits </i></b>is a horror anthology, edited by
<b>Stephen Mark Rainey</b>, featuring new stories from genre legends
<b>Joe R. Lansdale</b>, <b>Elizabeth Massie</b>, <b>Brian Keene</b>,
<b>Eric LaRocca</b>, and many others.<br /><br />
This is the first anthology of new <b><i>Deathrealm</i></b> stories since
the original magazine ceased publication in 1997. Once called one of the
most important horror lit magazines being published at the time by acclaimed
editor, <b>Ellen Datlow</b>, <b><i>Deathrealm</i></b> presented a wide
variety of dark fiction. </span><br />
<div>
<hr />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/deathrealm-spirits-by-brian-keene-and-stephen-mark-rainey?ebook_deal" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Deathrealm: Spirits</i>—Special Bookbub Deal—Kindle Edition, 99¢!
</b></span></span></a></div><hr />
</div>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-52101072097370290322024-02-04T16:05:00.003-05:002024-02-04T16:07:52.407-05:00Pre-Dawn Muggle Madness and More<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2vY-puHT_jhUSNyY9lVyyp-F-1MKtMEaoYcxlLkA2mYmznE2lZOffbc1xr7BTcvDsUU3kOAsExr6npljzth0v0OSdGlw7br0QqZLSVhmupsQfR3xfnN1bub7dhUJg0Qn7B6gMqLyIG1Q5IPcTu8K-3KvnOHhx3oy8IDarZZHZKc51b6Uz88OTEdnMb20/s2000/20240203_071756-EDIT.jpg"><img border="0"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2vY-puHT_jhUSNyY9lVyyp-F-1MKtMEaoYcxlLkA2mYmznE2lZOffbc1xr7BTcvDsUU3kOAsExr6npljzth0v0OSdGlw7br0QqZLSVhmupsQfR3xfnN1bub7dhUJg0Qn7B6gMqLyIG1Q5IPcTu8K-3KvnOHhx3oy8IDarZZHZKc51b6Uz88OTEdnMb20/s2000/20240203_071756-EDIT.jpg" width="516"
/></a>
</div>
Since Ms. B.'s folks have reached that age where they need a bit more help from
time to time, she heads to Michigan regularly to visit them. Sometimes I go
along too, but this week, she made it a solo trip. Her flight out from
Greensboro was at 6:00 a.m. yesterday morning, so we had to get ourselves up at
3:30 a.m. to hit the road by 4:00 a.m. We made it to the airport just before
5:00 a.m., and rather than turn right around and drive home, I decided to head
eastward from Greensboro and snag a handful of geocaches.
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<a
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<div>
My first stop was Burlington, a few miles east of Greensboro, where there is a
newish <b>Wherigo cache</b>, courtesy of friend <b>Ranger Fox</b>.
Despite the 25º-degree temp, I hoped I might make my way through the
stages without becoming an icicle. But after fifteen minutes, I still had a
pretty good way to go, and even though I was reasonably bundled up, the chill
and the brisk breeze convinced me that trying again at a later (warmer) time
might be more prudent.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
However, stopping here offered me yet another chance to experience the
single-most inevitable geocaching experience of geocaching experiences: the
fooking muggle sitting in his fooking car. At 5:15 in the fooking a.m., a
muggle (one of the non-geocaching persuasion) drives into this otherwise
totally deserted parking lot, parks his fooking vehicle, and proceeds to
fooking sit while I'm going from stage to stage. It never fails when there is
an otherwise totally deserted parking, does it? In this case, not necessarily
a complication, since muggles will be present at this location on a regular
basis. However, under these circumstances, it just reinforces the notion that
there is no empty parking lot into which a muggle won't insinuate himself at
precisely the wrong time. Go fooking figure.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
From there, I headed farther east and snagged a handful of caches. My favorite
was one in the woods along the Eno River, just east of Efland, NC. A lovely
location just downriver from a dam, which was visible in the distance from the
cache site. So despite the pre-dawn muggle madness, I enjoyed myself no end.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
A now a week of bachelorhood, writing, and, hopefully, more geocaching.
</div>
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Sunrise is imminent...
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</table>Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-88017946010020606292024-02-01T10:41:00.004-05:002024-02-01T12:33:40.285-05:00Hellnotes Reviews Fugue Devil: Resurgence<b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJtc0-nsucQOvY3X8dy8nrMmRWdB85SMzSVnUWcmWXQf5dhbYEqpWUcMJQDPVoRY7B3iONZxMYLbidkNXYNZuzouUtVWYX07vfzmnxeBiMtSC_Okn9Z0t0O71hQSPlfO5LhM2MAyYpJ9laRINbosZ-3ioG24Rlx44gc3shkmt8PWZJQf8e82rL7RzSJqh/s1600/Hellnotes.gif" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="122" data-original-width="800" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJtc0-nsucQOvY3X8dy8nrMmRWdB85SMzSVnUWcmWXQf5dhbYEqpWUcMJQDPVoRY7B3iONZxMYLbidkNXYNZuzouUtVWYX07vfzmnxeBiMtSC_Okn9Z0t0O71hQSPlfO5LhM2MAyYpJ9laRINbosZ-3ioG24Rlx44gc3shkmt8PWZJQf8e82rL7RzSJqh/s1600/Hellnotes.gif" width="516" /></a><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></div>
</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span><div><span style="font-weight: normal;">
<a href="https://hellnotes.com/book-review-fugue-devil-resurgence/" target="_blank"></a></span></div><b>Hellnotes</b>
reviewer
<a href="https://hellnotes.com/book-review-fugue-devil-resurgence/" target="_blank"><b>Carson Buckingham</b></a> gives
<b><i> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09XFXVBDN/&tag=thereaofstema-20" target="_blank">Fugue Devil: Resurgence</a></i></b>
a big thumbs-up! A lovely review indeed<i><b>.<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br />"This collection from Stephen Mark Rainey is among the best ones I’ve read.
Each story is a shining gem and if you enjoy Lovecraftian horror, there is
much that will please you here... </span>5 stars—Highly recommended. Buy one for yourself and one for a friend.<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"</span>
</div></b></i><div>
<hr />
<a href="https://hellnotes.com/book-review-fugue-devil-resurgence/" target="_blank"><div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Fugue Devil: Resurgence</i> Review<br />by Carson Buckingham at
Hellnotes</span></b>
</div></a>
</div>
<hr />Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-17318394199538064582024-01-28T16:43:00.007-05:002024-01-28T16:44:39.145-05:00Bad Behavior<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBjdOTiZSaIw8iMlIZfzYRqAWWk05MT52_U07B-8B8-Fxpu8pddzpIjh_inoTDU0BxsBSRDiGSYiKfd4HfnWr7m6mHeCL6YGw7REXEYFomAkXZXycGvDKNdyaNdeNHi23dUdJl-bQpRJY-IAfYsfHqlOJ_KFNaQp1PmesoLq4Mh4PJzQxPQuBli5zxZAX/s1070/img_1_1701826586200.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="1070" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBjdOTiZSaIw8iMlIZfzYRqAWWk05MT52_U07B-8B8-Fxpu8pddzpIjh_inoTDU0BxsBSRDiGSYiKfd4HfnWr7m6mHeCL6YGw7REXEYFomAkXZXycGvDKNdyaNdeNHi23dUdJl-bQpRJY-IAfYsfHqlOJ_KFNaQp1PmesoLq4Mh4PJzQxPQuBli5zxZAX/s16000/img_1_1701826586200.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div>
Why not? I'm gonna step right up and post my thoughts sparked by the latest of
the endless social media explosions because, for me, these go beyond just the
immediate cases.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
I dip into the social media pool fairly frequently, but I don't live on social
media. I don't always see the latest kerfuffle in the literary world at the
moment it happens, or block the latest <i>persona non grata</i> as fast as
some people would like ("You need to do better!" [to be fair, not directed
specifically at me, but apparently to those whose fingers don't perpetually
hover on the block button]), especially when said PNG's page doesn't reveal
diddly about what he or she might have done. At the risk of sounding defensive
— not that I'm gonna apologize for handling my social media presence as I see
fit — I use almost all my waking hours writing, editing, hiking, working at
being a good husband, or doing something personally productive with my time
and energy (why, yes, I <i>am</i> that self-centered); dealing with the
perpetual weirdness of social media, while important in many ways, tends to be
a lower priority.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
That said, I <i>do</i> appreciate finding out that, yes, I should be aware of
certain goings-on with so-and-so, and I'll weigh that info on its merits and
act as I see fit. But I don't do that on <i>your</i> timetable, Mrs. Kravitz.*
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Now, no one has come after me personally, but some of the vehemence among
commenters I've seen implies guilt by association if you haven't jumped on the
bandwagon fast enough for their liking. Transferring anger from the offender
to the otherwise uninvolved does kind of chap my ass.
</div>
<br />
All that said, YES, OF COURSE, I condemn the behavior of Mr. <b>JD Barker</b>. He <i>was</i> on my friends' list, not that I can recall ever interacting
with him. I hope that my own conduct online and in-person would never suggest
tacit approval of deplorable behavior.
<div>
<br />
<div>
*It occurs to me that, for the younger set, you might wanna look up
<i><b>Bewitched</b></i>.
</div>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-58023085933296385132024-01-22T13:52:00.008-05:002024-01-22T15:02:41.039-05:00One Guess Less<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxU8m0xvTVDUfamSNe04XWDnhaAIzENebAJcCCgCbudVild1jR6H18Ea1SDd6LcikieWckrf3rK1EbiUsMgJ-ywmhIdNekYgZH31HImoqd6id2ALw7qVWCldTajuL6OIzxmVSZ02LBJa6DksAk6z2SYrQbXU_RRhzi_ySa433ZdLPRhfNLSLgmusRVG-M/s1200/2012-01-22_3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="896" height="445" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxU8m0xvTVDUfamSNe04XWDnhaAIzENebAJcCCgCbudVild1jR6H18Ea1SDd6LcikieWckrf3rK1EbiUsMgJ-ywmhIdNekYgZH31HImoqd6id2ALw7qVWCldTajuL6OIzxmVSZ02LBJa6DksAk6z2SYrQbXU_RRhzi_ySa433ZdLPRhfNLSLgmusRVG-M/s16000/2012-01-22_3.jpg" /></a><br />I saw in my online "memories" post that pops up daily that, on this day
in 2012, I found the geocache called "<b><a href="https://coord.info/GC1QF2B" target="_blank">The Curse of Samarra Morgan</a></b>" (<b><a href="https://coord.info/GC1QF2B" target="_blank">GC1QF2B</a></b>), which, in the photo at left, you can see me about to dive after it. It was
located not far out of Chapel Hill, NC (and there was a lovely little
graveyard nearby, which might have been handy should the worst happen at the
cache site). Then it occurred to me that I've been geocaching for sixteen
years this month; I found my first cache ("<b>Groundhog Lane</b>," now
long-archived) on January 12, 2008. I'm still hard at it on a regular
basis—pretty much the same geo-addict I've been ever since Day One—although I can't get
out after them as much as when we lived in North Carolina, simply because
there are far fewer caches in this part of Virginia to hunt. That's kind of a
bummer, but since I've placed a large number around here, I visit many of them
frequently to keep them well-maintained for other hunters.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This morning, on my regular daily walk, I decided to head down to the former
site of one of my old geocaches, along the Smith River a couple of miles from
my house. Sadly, the host of that cache, called "<b>One Guess</b>," is no
longer tenable for a geocache (and that area is not as readily accessible as
it used to be should one be driving in from some other area). The cache was up
in a big sycamore, and to say that tree has seen better days is an
understatement. I've always enjoyed hunting more "extreme" geocaches, and I've
hidden a good many that can challenge highly experienced cachers. There were once
very few caches to which I could say "no," but I will admit that, nowadays,
I'm not <i>quite</i> as physically able to handle certain terrain types—such
as culverts and storm drains and such into which I'd have to crawl. Crawling
and my knees and hips no longer get along very well.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Mind you, I can still climb some trees. I love me some trees. And another
cache in the same vein as "<b>The Curse of Samara Morgan</b>"? Bring it on!
</div>
<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8CMtUdxEkoqVsr-uTbdPqVo2MMYkUzelHIvYuF3MEWS1u3UfFGYPbsBQBR47aOeBOaZxgPUx6NgL0VW_kpq1UhnlJwMhY8AVIFeLyYZXOJGRSOBkdkj_KxbUJjFe8ALVlV9eIBt4SJy-dFg2zSgxrlM-CXN2j9DIIcBAnS-iTFeXSDKFrFbUw86xS00e/s1500/20120211_134741.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8CMtUdxEkoqVsr-uTbdPqVo2MMYkUzelHIvYuF3MEWS1u3UfFGYPbsBQBR47aOeBOaZxgPUx6NgL0VW_kpq1UhnlJwMhY8AVIFeLyYZXOJGRSOBkdkj_KxbUJjFe8ALVlV9eIBt4SJy-dFg2zSgxrlM-CXN2j9DIIcBAnS-iTFeXSDKFrFbUw86xS00e/s16000/20120211_134741.jpg" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyz3N8depBDdoCg34iKpSfzb5plGiS2rpANIROTZFdxfSIHiaJhnf4p3-C8-lm4XDbr5JtYWTor_4rVjItZ2Uo72fj6r9kwH6yM61p3tHsVwboBmEjV8InRpaZ4_NJIkMKFqXaBMZ4KS-XEX-5wHDFO7bRal4IBTrH5sVIOLr2GwjERc52-dhHwIhKP7M0/s3303/original_980e3560-9ecf-423f-a4f7-8df019697a23_20240122_105632.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyz3N8depBDdoCg34iKpSfzb5plGiS2rpANIROTZFdxfSIHiaJhnf4p3-C8-lm4XDbr5JtYWTor_4rVjItZ2Uo72fj6r9kwH6yM61p3tHsVwboBmEjV8InRpaZ4_NJIkMKFqXaBMZ4KS-XEX-5wHDFO7bRal4IBTrH5sVIOLr2GwjERc52-dhHwIhKP7M0/s16000/original_980e3560-9ecf-423f-a4f7-8df019697a23_20240122_105632.jpg" /></a>
</div>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Left:</b> The site of "One Guess," on the day I placed it in February 2012; photo by Ms.
B. <b>Right:</b> The same tree, photo taken this morning (from the opposite
angle). Notice that one whole trunk has gone missing, which was where the
cache originally lurked. One Guess less...</span>
</div>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvGXYRcBVeClyhOqHGUNvpr5Sr6zF9bDjomKyxbrpg4wssxO4FfuueuroGnBEA5hcIVBBEK-eBGeFy38z8qHrzkfYnyhqG0VOJ2p2XICN3GO4pjDqW5rg-z79kcEaK9ClEjV6iAwPk9kprerRQEyJctq9lRlPtu34Xjjogf6SrFAaS4qQmExF5UY9Ft7vu/s3853/20240122_105934.jpg" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2167" data-original-width="3853" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvGXYRcBVeClyhOqHGUNvpr5Sr6zF9bDjomKyxbrpg4wssxO4FfuueuroGnBEA5hcIVBBEK-eBGeFy38z8qHrzkfYnyhqG0VOJ2p2XICN3GO4pjDqW5rg-z79kcEaK9ClEjV6iAwPk9kprerRQEyJctq9lRlPtu34Xjjogf6SrFAaS4qQmExF5UY9Ft7vu/s16000/20240122_105934.jpg" width="514" /></a><br />View of the Smith River from the old cache site</div>
</span></div>Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-80624913585053217942024-01-16T13:23:00.001-05:002024-01-16T13:23:29.753-05:00WIP Excerpt: The House at Black Tooth Pond<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35I14CP75dRri1g1Pu1POor_ZP-_9ypOh3jhB1BdjOyXJ-oFgfWNlGdRazN3DWdxwZbQwzXRXffpGVRO2vy-EdF4VdHH5ItGaWfatZ4x-QXDQLLsEua9tnwqJ6oS3R_g4LpdkfP1XSmzSEzDMsnzkj-O1kYv9rOfdxFQUpfVGrXMx2Sk0MXko_9T34A/s800/20230504_171000~2.jpg"
imageanchor="1"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="648"
data-original-width="800"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35I14CP75dRri1g1Pu1POor_ZP-_9ypOh3jhB1BdjOyXJ-oFgfWNlGdRazN3DWdxwZbQwzXRXffpGVRO2vy-EdF4VdHH5ItGaWfatZ4x-QXDQLLsEua9tnwqJ6oS3R_g4LpdkfP1XSmzSEzDMsnzkj-O1kYv9rOfdxFQUpfVGrXMx2Sk0MXko_9T34A/s16000/20230504_171000~2.jpg" width="516"></a>
</div>
<div>
Not very long ago, I wrote a haunted house story, titled "<b
>The House at Black Tooth Pond</b
>," for an upcoming anthology, which will be appearing later this year. I've
made blog posts about the place I call Black Tooth Pond, which is inspired by
an honest-to-God location here in Martinsville (the most recent blog being
<b
><a
href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2023/11/black-friday-at-black-tooth-pond.html"
target="_blank"
>"Black Friday at Black Tooth Pond," Friday, November 25, 2023</a
></b
>). For the story, I combined that real-life setting with another: an ancient,
crumbling house my brother and I discovered not far from Martinsville in the
early 1990s. I called it the House of Cabiness because, inside the place, I
discovered a massive cache of old mail, all addressed to members of a certain
Cabiness family. I suspect that place is long gone, since so little of it
remained intact even then, but the memory of it has haunted me ever since.
</div>
<p>
The drawing above is one I did back when Brother Phred and I found the place.
</p>
<p>
I believe the story makes for a fine stand-alone tale, but the more I
contemplated the idea, it felt like one that could be expanded into a
full-length novel. So, quite recently, I set about scheming and plotting and
plotting and scheming, and I came up with a workable novel project. At the
moment, I'm roughly 30k words into the writing, so I thought I'd offer a
little excerpt. Here she be:
</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">#</p>
<p>
As Martin sauntered along the walkway, mostly looking at his feet, he heard a
deep, booming voice rising above the soft student babble around him. The voice
was shouting, “Sinners, take heed! The end times are near! Take heed, all of
ye!”
</p>
<p>
Oh, hell. One of the endless supply of proselytizers that seemed to target the
campus more and more lately. They’d always been around, maybe even more so
back in his university days, but there recently seemed to have been a
resurgence.
</p>
<p>
The voice came from a huge, black-suited man, with wide, glittering eyes
beneath a heavy brow. He stood on the walkway just shy of the stairs to
Reynolds Hall. Unless Martin diverted around to the side door, he couldn't
avoid walking directly in front of the fellow. In one hand, the man held a
thick sheaf of papers—flyers or tracts, no doubt. None of the students passing
nearby appeared to take even the vaguest notice of him.
</p>
<p><em>Good for them.</em></p>
<p>
As he approached, he kept his eyes down and walked by without the fellow
taking any special notice of him.
</p>
<p>
Until he reached the stairs of Reynolds Hall. And then the deep voice
bellowed, “Beware, Dr. Pritchett, the doom that came to Eden, the country of
the snake!”
</p>
<p>
Martin whirled around, incredulous, and saw the figure standing on the walkway
with one arm outstretched, pointing directly toward him.
</p>
<p>“Do you not know what you have disturbed, Dr. Pritchett?"</p>
<p>
He took a few steps back toward the towering figure. He’d never seen the man
before in his life. How could he know his name? Maybe a former student? No. He
didn't think so.
</p>
<p>
But those words. Martin knew them. They came from the pages he’d taken from
the House of Cabiness. But no one besides his brother could be privy to what
he’d done. No one else could have been out there to see him. Who could
possibly know what was written on those ancient sheets?
</p>
<p>No one.</p>
<p><em>No one alive.</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>#</em></p>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-6042126326906976952024-01-10T12:09:00.003-05:002024-01-10T12:17:50.550-05:00THE FORT — A Short Horror Film by Alan Lastufka<div align="center"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/COjvXEzi-Ls?si=aKqnsYEwiViegwv0" title="YouTube video player" width="516"></iframe></div>
<br /><div><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>"Teenage best friends Erin and Tim have their own hideout in the woods. It’s an old reclaimed trailer nicknamed the Fort. And it just grew a new door…"</i></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div>
Writer/Publisher/Filmmaker <b>Alan Lastufka</b>'s short horror film, <i style="font-weight: bold;">The Fort</i>, is due for release in October
2024. A <b><a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/alandistro/the-fort-a-short-horror-film/description" target="_blank">Kickstarter</a></b> campaign has been launched to assist with the film's funding.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>Alan Lastufka is CEO of <b><a href="https://www.shortwavepublishing.com/deathrealm" target="_blank">Shortwave Publishing</a></b>, which released my newest anthology, <i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://www.shortwavepublishing.com/deathrealm" target="_blank">Deathrealm: Spirits</a></i>, this past October.</div><div>
<div><hr /><a alandistro="" description="" https:="" projects="" target=" href=" the-fort-a-short-horror-film="" www.kickstarter.com=""></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a alandistro="" description="" https:="" projects="" target=" href=" the-fort-a-short-horror-film="" www.kickstarter.com=""></a><a alandistro="" description="" href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/alandistro/the-fort-a-short-horror-film/description" https:="" projects="" target="_blank" the-fort-a-short-horror-film="" www.kickstarter.com=""><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;">Support <em>The Fort</em> — A Short Horror Film Kickstarter Campaign Here</span></b></a></div><hr /></div>
</div>Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-61110617601861147142024-01-09T15:18:00.009-05:002024-01-09T15:22:26.318-05:00Man the Pumps!<p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='516' height='290' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyUGbxLuu2RxPE77ny-cjfEp8ZcPW0oshuDLBEz4RkQ_kIHcwjbNZRtRns5qdTqMMDDDInxjvGOqpX3NyLayw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>
</div>
<div>
An hour ago, we received a tornado alert on our phones, the wind came roaring,
and the tornado sirens started blaring. That all seemed fairly short-lived,
and the wind has let up, though the rainfall is prodigious. There's usually
not a creek with waterfalls here. The basement is a bit flooded, and that
takes a LOT of water. Usually, it stays bone-dry even with a decent amount of rain.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
This weather system is all over the region and beyond, so I hope everyone is
staying safe.
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-13782862813404243552024-01-06T12:40:00.004-05:002024-01-06T12:50:43.093-05:00Guns of the Wasteland by Leverett Butts<div class="separator">
<a href="https://www.audible.com/author/Leverett-Butts/B00999703I" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em; text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0rtH8sC3tLhpSfE3fu7LyhOV1r4pbY70xdWw1ifPb3sFYmTx5itRJOpcb7y54lIJ31eYkx8inXFom-ToesifVSRM_TfiVGxnZmPDCUTq2HKI-U8Xa_ShXNh3uU3ij_4x4nYm4zFbTXkW0LftxoG8F6MiGS6CbvqO6Jk0XFWnQ7KQen4gDFKlNd1LESJA/s16000/guns_departure.jpg" /></a>
</div>
<br />Mainly on my long daily walks, I've been listening to <b>Lev Butts</b>'s
<b><i>Guns of the Waste Land</i></b> series on Audible. It's Arthurian legend set in the wild west;
stylish, with beautifully drawn characters, set in a colorful, immersive
environment. <b>Michael Hajiantonis</b>'s narration is masterful. The fourth and
final part is due for release shortly. Y'all really need to check out the books,
either in <b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/Leverett-Butts/author/B00999703I" target="_blank">paperback</a></b> or on <b><a href="https://www.audible.com/author/Leverett-Butts/B00999703I" target="_blank">Audible</a></b>.
<p></p>
<p>
Lev is a hell of an author, and a while back, I met him on one of my trips to
my old stomping grounds in Gainesville, GA (<b><a href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2022/10/sabbatical-2-back-to-georgia.html" target="_blank">Tuesday, October 11, 2022 — "Sabbatical 2: Return to Georgia"</a></b>). We hit it off nicely, and I consider him a valued friend and peer. I do
hope we have a chance to get together again soon.
</p>
<div align="center">
<hr />
<b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://www.audible.com/author/Leverett-Butts/B00999703I" target="_blank"><i>Guns of the Waste Land<br /></i>by Leverett Butts on Audible</a></span></b>
<hr />
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-29643981051990946232024-01-04T16:57:00.005-05:002024-01-04T16:59:33.465-05:00The Weird Library: Listen in the Dark — "Black Shuck Tavern"<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a
href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLaX_y2djLo"
style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"
target="_blank"
><img
alt=""
border="0"
data-original-height="442"
data-original-width="800"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwersAeNcopQn7Zq7ty6FZ3aVmJ7l0LGRxGpT4aQi5qompMqtHtKD82Eu1rwL0XhRNjaY0kOw8_3vppOVPqhgQeGJUsWSI_jd3W0h89T5X6GmCfFwVb2LAzq3m6RS2615ixfsBB-HrI3PYqziJ6pKrjQCHtWefjE0oQJBviFIkoeaykw9ZOAE943htLNd/s1600/20240104_163814.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</div>
<b
><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLaX_y2djLo" target="_blank"
>"Black Shuck Tavern,"</a
></b
>
by author <b>Emma Gibbon</b> kicks off the debut episode of
<b
><a
href="https://lovecraftzine.com/2023/12/16/the-weird-library-listen-in-the-dark/"
target="_blank"
>The Weird Library: Listen in the Dark</a
></b
>,
<b
><i
><a href="https://lovecraftzine.com/" target="_blank">Lovecraft eZine</a></i
></b
>
editor
<b
><a href="https://www.facebook.com/misanthropemike" target="_blank"
>Mike Davis</a
></b
>'s new podcast. The story is narrated by
<b
><a href="https://www.facebook.com/ladydyer2009" target="_blank"
>Bridgette Brenmark</a
></b
>, who also created the art and soundtrack for the show.
<hr />
<div align="center">
<b
><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"
><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLaX_y2djLo" target="_blank"
>Listen to “Black Shuck Tavern” at<br />The Weird Library: Listen in the Dark</a
></span
></b
>
</div>
<hr />
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-63651333009028121182024-01-01T08:57:00.018-05:002024-01-30T09:35:59.221-05:00A Virginia Beach New Year's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6seB6Rlpv8eKIj3kC_1gFXHM_JBEaV6zGxM8L1ki6BAkbmLxh741Xcz6FLqj6dalDyehHEH89NvNvnylYuK1-ggFuCBtU6tK2nBNwaA_6jSfaTv39v8EXrbbWKvCHd1s_hW9KHK_zeEM6C5rGgcPwUvzYmZV8Ujp2X7kdRlpwPA_hyphenhyphen-uUA87KxXnRKBnj/s2000/20231229_192271.jpg"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1529"
data-original-width="2000"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6seB6Rlpv8eKIj3kC_1gFXHM_JBEaV6zGxM8L1ki6BAkbmLxh741Xcz6FLqj6dalDyehHEH89NvNvnylYuK1-ggFuCBtU6tK2nBNwaA_6jSfaTv39v8EXrbbWKvCHd1s_hW9KHK_zeEM6C5rGgcPwUvzYmZV8Ujp2X7kdRlpwPA_hyphenhyphen-uUA87KxXnRKBnj/s16000/20231229_192271.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</div>
<div>
<b
><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"
>FRIDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2023</span
></b
>
</div>
These past few New Year's holidays, <b>Brugger</b> and I have gathered with
our regular partners in crime, <b>Terry</b> & <b>Beth</b>, and this year,
friends <b>Joe</b> & <b>Suzy</b> joined the mix. This year, we had decided
on <b>Virginia Beach</b> as our destination and made reservations at the
<b><a href="https://www.dolphinrunvb.com/" target="_blank">Dolphin Run</a></b>
condos on the waterfront. Since we were all heading from different places — and
I had geocaches to stop for — each couple drove separately. Ms. B. and I left
about 11:00 a.m. Sure enough... there were some cool geocaches to snag along the
way. We hit a few spots of traffic, but overall, the trip turned out to be a
mostly pain-free six hours.
<p></p>
<div>
Once ensconced in our lodgings, we opened some wine for pre-dinner drinks.
Come the dinner hour, we saw a few nearby restaurants, so we walked up to an
appealing-looking place called
<b
><a href="https://www.watermans.com/" target="_blank"
>Waterman's Surfside Grill</a
></b
>, but the wait time — about an hour — struck us as a bit much. So we ended up
walking another partial block and found
<b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MahisVB/" target="_blank">Mahi's</a></b
> at the nearby <b>Hilton Hotel</b>. They specialize in sushi, and I
ended up with some of the best dead fish I've had in ages... maybe ever.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Then we returned to our lodgings and — scandalous, I know — we opened some
wine. Our revels, debates, and mud-wrestling lasted fairly late. Brugger and I
took a nice, late-night walk on the beach. Then there was some heavy-duty
bed-crashing.
</div>
<table
align="center"
cellpadding="0"
cellspacing="0"
class="tr-caption-container"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotQq4cIfH7XiWpg6RVM8EjNOfHnYDR2auO7aD21THcQ_9IMeQw16XOJrm4zAi1-q44LfoVMuEROQQFyrl8jp_gRDHHb6XSl9_upVvGvvDA9v586axIpyUlH9vjrhnm5ICrF4AmcVc0xfHNSERg3UfN0Tlm_YIQ5XuSC0bNENnjy8-moubUwVkCnDLNSXC/s3956/20231229_232452.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="2271"
data-original-width="3956"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotQq4cIfH7XiWpg6RVM8EjNOfHnYDR2auO7aD21THcQ_9IMeQw16XOJrm4zAi1-q44LfoVMuEROQQFyrl8jp_gRDHHb6XSl9_upVvGvvDA9v586axIpyUlH9vjrhnm5ICrF4AmcVc0xfHNSERg3UfN0Tlm_YIQ5XuSC0bNENnjy8-moubUwVkCnDLNSXC/s16000/20231229_232452.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
The Dolphin Run Condos by night<br />
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX1P5yrkklMMHUGx00Wk-hE8QmT1P-TMkXPnE6CWMCEtlBX_moXhIHDDzXdxO7tpUK_xnVMxmquQR7bz0M-mhaXr9QnbPgDQ4gqya0KroqCBxjxShDtxF_MxSnUrxSt1AMz7V5IOy5lptp6OtJJGysiVKjj-gQViL9q3a3e_cqYySjSGol7QuJEl1FlVm/s3075/20231230_092842.jpg"
style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="3075"
data-original-width="1880"
height="422"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX1P5yrkklMMHUGx00Wk-hE8QmT1P-TMkXPnE6CWMCEtlBX_moXhIHDDzXdxO7tpUK_xnVMxmquQR7bz0M-mhaXr9QnbPgDQ4gqya0KroqCBxjxShDtxF_MxSnUrxSt1AMz7V5IOy5lptp6OtJJGysiVKjj-gQViL9q3a3e_cqYySjSGol7QuJEl1FlVm/s16000/20231230_092842.jpg"
/></a>
</div>
<div>
<b
><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"
><br />SATURDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2023</span
></b
>
</div>
<div>
After plenty of coffee, I set out walking after geocaches. Found a few
physical hides and stages of several Adventure Lab (virtual) caches. I ended
up hoofing it about two and a half miles, which is fairly typical of my daily
walks back home. The wind behaved brutally for much of the distance, so I was
still rather glad when I made it back indoors.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
For lunch, our gang decided to give Waterman's another try because the menu
had appeared appealing. This time, we were able to get seated quickly. One of
their daily specials was an Angus burger with brie and applewood-smoked bacon,
and it hollered at me. No drinks but water for me because I'm certain there
will be no shortage of such refreshments this evening. The burger was very
good, a bit shy of great. Still, it's been ages since I've had a burger, so it
hit the critical spot.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
To my dismay, I discovered that our power back home had gone out. Apparently,
it was a widespread outage in Martinsville, as people all over the city were
posting about it. It lasted a couple of hours, and I don't know what caused
it, but at the moment, all seems well again. We certainly did not want the
cats and their sitter to get too cold!
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Writer/editor/Crossroad Press CEO/good friend <b>David Niall Wilson </b>was
apparently in town, and we'd had an idea we might try to get together during
the afternoon, but circumstances didn't come together for it. However, come
April, we'll be seeing each other at the upcoming
<b
><a href="https://scaresthatcare.org/authorcon-iii" target="_blank"
>AuthorCon III</a
></b
>
in Williamsburg, so we'll have a good time there to anticipate.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
There is a walkway along the beach that runs just below our eighth-floor
balcony — the "boardwalk," it's called, although it's not so much boards as
concrete. It's been all done up with a holiday light show, so, during the
evening, a huge parade of vehicles rolls by to go through the show. It doesn't
bother us at all, though now and again, we venture out to the balcony to hurl
insults at the crowd and look at some of the visible lights.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Several of the gang were out and about for the afternoon, so they picked up
vittles for dinner, including a couple of rotisserie chickens for the main
course. Joe made us a lovely Italian concoction of beans and escarole to go
with the bird, and so we were set. Once well-fed, we settled in for an evening
of wine, games, and generally acting up.
</div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rFsTM2GOuMWnWWTRK0DYjaGgWuxVlovM45ZbNpsE-B8XRutomQz-4GLHWr45MzWdwHfSI8C40oBbL_6tXenjrEBe_K7c3iMuOWBoMMpOTgQ-4GH8bB9LraG4gEeYGFvSh-7QRhPKNuEA7Dozo6rcCFzSlC0b6xw02v-A2Ep-svmzfRd8feQ3zEzEHyIh/s931/received_197247776733513.jpeg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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data-original-height="661"
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width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Crazy white people!
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEnRY-uL7HmbErO7O-hOdpeLChWXmWzY_5ljum6P_0RkWtUl8aygQ8Y6lPBEjv_GA3yK4aPrFCRrBZku1pATbhbnGB7kQK1WpZ4iWS_0za9xuDuSl6W2MAVazWB4UDTjO3owjkkAyig5IadtxWcnl0W2BkvfIu-5Ts7fzQpheaIXg_LKxtmlySn3ySWY5/s4032/20231229_172031.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEnRY-uL7HmbErO7O-hOdpeLChWXmWzY_5ljum6P_0RkWtUl8aygQ8Y6lPBEjv_GA3yK4aPrFCRrBZku1pATbhbnGB7kQK1WpZ4iWS_0za9xuDuSl6W2MAVazWB4UDTjO3owjkkAyig5IadtxWcnl0W2BkvfIu-5Ts7fzQpheaIXg_LKxtmlySn3ySWY5/s16000/20231229_172031.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
The opening of the light show below our balcony: "Welcome to VA Beach!"
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div>
<div>
<b
><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"
>SUNDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2023</span
></b
>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiyU5DGBVcl2EZvvXV_78TCkOx7gX9sH6Y-Ab02UY4jrSYRubxoD3vRrOIysszw_zGZlJje0vQNwOWML6kiZGW0WFLcqAtmmob9x4IZJ2uHreOULMQUwHQxWM6VQE5DY2RW08lfxt4YQuhGbIDPhyMFd5OV51T1ikX_Z6DnQp7lJGuylqisR0Nh-iro0j/s2000/20231231_140444.jpg"
><img
border="0"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiyU5DGBVcl2EZvvXV_78TCkOx7gX9sH6Y-Ab02UY4jrSYRubxoD3vRrOIysszw_zGZlJje0vQNwOWML6kiZGW0WFLcqAtmmob9x4IZJ2uHreOULMQUwHQxWM6VQE5DY2RW08lfxt4YQuhGbIDPhyMFd5OV51T1ikX_Z6DnQp7lJGuylqisR0Nh-iro0j/s16000/20231231_140444.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</div>
<div>
I'd hoped the weather might be a bit less blustery this morning to go
walkies, but while the sun blazed brightly, that air remained frigid. So...
no. I got some writing done. Finally, at about 11:00 a.m., the temperature
pushed up to the 40-degree mark, and I decided to head on out. Joe &
Suzy had a lunch date with her sister, who lives nearby, and the rest of us
planned to eat leftovers, so I reckoned I could walk as far as I wanted to,
and we'd be on our own time until later this afternoon. I went a full two
miles outbound, grabbed a traditional cache and the stages of a couple of
Adventure Labs, and I had just reached my farthest goal when Ms. B. shot me
a message. Apparently, the gang had decided to check out lunch options than
leftovers, and could I please get back pretty soon? Hoo boy... long way....
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>Fortunately, I walk pretty fast.</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Our lunch destination was
<b
><a href="https://fire-brew.com/" target="_blank"
>Firebrew Bar & Grill</a
></b
>
down by
<a
href="https://cnrma.cnic.navy.mil/Installations/NAS-Oceana/"
style="font-weight: bold;"
target="_blank"
>Oceana Naval Air Station</a
>, where Terry and Joe had been stationed back in our nation's earliest
days. Terry and I started with a couple of bloody marys (quite good)
and ye women opted for wine. Possibly the wrong thing to do because we're
having a big New Year's Eve dinner, but I went for a half-rack of baby back
ribs, and damn... they were delicious. There was a cache nearby, so I
grabbed it... and ran into a local geocacher in the process. We had a brief,
enjoyable conversation.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
From there, ye women went shopping, and Terry and I headed down to Oceana to
meander around his old stomping grounds. For me, the real treat was getting
to view a fair number of "antique" Navy aircraft up close and personal. Due
largely to my model-building days, which ranged from my wee childhood until
post-college, I recalled the names and types of the majority of the jets.
Fun stuff!
</div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZW950ubxD9XMFl_e6yj6lAOmOceTdj_6IHPsHkQMt32y5csUI66R5tzq1ZpJETBcy1SinwPZAPL-Ug67oyeGXJbPp65VCvlvDaK5Xz7WHQ30jRZX4C4nRgKCnR74I083c4IT_OsnWTSknFpHqySd81lPf7w7XlGKgetFLAQIDpe3q_2fS-MD7khBCA86/s2000/20231231_140907.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="885"
data-original-width="2000"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZW950ubxD9XMFl_e6yj6lAOmOceTdj_6IHPsHkQMt32y5csUI66R5tzq1ZpJETBcy1SinwPZAPL-Ug67oyeGXJbPp65VCvlvDaK5Xz7WHQ30jRZX4C4nRgKCnR74I083c4IT_OsnWTSknFpHqySd81lPf7w7XlGKgetFLAQIDpe3q_2fS-MD7khBCA86/s16000/20231231_140907.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">F4 Phantom</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYstRpBtqXtdqQjIpTea0445oDjyGQfskLqItangXrQ89UHAVBWd8Q4KAAT1Sh5dJlwKNwXbSmbR5kKmQV_NwDFe5MDF-H01sK5VvhXu9NUXqb1fATKSkE1pkuYW0QpkME6zByTNX8ZHH_PrxMTbc9d0vtOsuFBtCPhTe8aG5SKN4ncLP4vQIL6HfLsJ8/s2000/20231231_140621.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYstRpBtqXtdqQjIpTea0445oDjyGQfskLqItangXrQ89UHAVBWd8Q4KAAT1Sh5dJlwKNwXbSmbR5kKmQV_NwDFe5MDF-H01sK5VvhXu9NUXqb1fATKSkE1pkuYW0QpkME6zByTNX8ZHH_PrxMTbc9d0vtOsuFBtCPhTe8aG5SKN4ncLP4vQIL6HfLsJ8/s16000/20231231_140621.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">F2H Banshee</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAzJ_z6aSMTjjoVW0oP7nF8VkM4NQd9oBINM8Bkb3wRQmm7Ly3N2uXl1qhKsE-sSudYaezq_tPQ4DQeSaE0zHQMYPYTnVLTRVOgjU8OYNfVtMVfvqs2VhDSWAJ5X8UywegNm_Vk6AAVUpA7iIP-hJsQlqOHR_yHU8nJLfbuObhtw2z7W3BkOaej4Bad9-/s2000/20231231_140943.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAzJ_z6aSMTjjoVW0oP7nF8VkM4NQd9oBINM8Bkb3wRQmm7Ly3N2uXl1qhKsE-sSudYaezq_tPQ4DQeSaE0zHQMYPYTnVLTRVOgjU8OYNfVtMVfvqs2VhDSWAJ5X8UywegNm_Vk6AAVUpA7iIP-hJsQlqOHR_yHU8nJLfbuObhtw2z7W3BkOaej4Bad9-/s16000/20231231_140943.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">F14 Tomcat</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
</div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQjdXSSK_m9MxbJFhPOcjVuP79GCYba4Rlf_gENzTE10mLmrJ6jQ6xnZYWeMAKMgerqYNbnVjEboMLi-cojOdkJbTwNxX3eX_xL5oU58mkBjcOGgQTEjoB-weL_3j85355fEDMmf_CDmopMdoJ8AO1oLsh0uPITSntUX-GaN7HeBtVjYYzzCEt_VoWvzl/s2000/20231231_131200.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQjdXSSK_m9MxbJFhPOcjVuP79GCYba4Rlf_gENzTE10mLmrJ6jQ6xnZYWeMAKMgerqYNbnVjEboMLi-cojOdkJbTwNxX3eX_xL5oU58mkBjcOGgQTEjoB-weL_3j85355fEDMmf_CDmopMdoJ8AO1oLsh0uPITSntUX-GaN7HeBtVjYYzzCEt_VoWvzl/s16000/20231231_131200.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lunch Bunch</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div>
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gGw18nWolMlIjnlOEdSe3NSHryx2K-wxWkwON4cvMjLE6HXJ4ZCgy9CPREqINUM6KwNMwctOMGtMGJkTXuxLDEcjkZFoizPrJkbYcYxF1_1zvp10K5W-1T8_FT71UngaDgU1HgfFA_zE_YDo8AnOCPwDqlgH-UHwSdfWCnw98P0dXA47mkNzKmAoFM1j/s1280/received_178543175350808.jpeg"
style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em; text-align: center;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1280"
data-original-width="960"
height="344"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gGw18nWolMlIjnlOEdSe3NSHryx2K-wxWkwON4cvMjLE6HXJ4ZCgy9CPREqINUM6KwNMwctOMGtMGJkTXuxLDEcjkZFoizPrJkbYcYxF1_1zvp10K5W-1T8_FT71UngaDgU1HgfFA_zE_YDo8AnOCPwDqlgH-UHwSdfWCnw98P0dXA47mkNzKmAoFM1j/s16000/received_178543175350808.jpeg" /></a
><br />For New Year's Eve dinner, we had reservations at
<a
href="https://www.mermaidwinery.com/mermaid/"
style="font-weight: bold;"
target="_blank"
>Mermaid Winery</a
>. It was a three-course dinner with choices of pork belly, scallops,
crabmeat-stuff lobster, filet mignon, and various sweets for dessert. They
served really good wine with dinner — not their own, which turned out to be
fortunate because Kim and Terry sampled some of theirs and came away with
expressions that were not at all pretty. Regardless, the atmosphere, service,
and food made the overall experience a great finish for the year.
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Back at the condo, we sat up playing tunes and making merry. Brugger
entertained us with nonstop dancing from the time we arrived until we
crashed, well after midnight.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div><div>2023 has left the building...</div></div>
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style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="876"
data-original-width="1170"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZLmNKAICUhADUg435ZvYbK69c4f0fmizNghzrqWimRWtBVykRLgUWnQF0mTqzLB4CkfhyphenhyphenaIASxBHesw62a8_LkK6KJqxSFmVZJ57F21BnOhc_NRuxCfY-FuymYyXrhgwKTo-cKA8nFyI7RsDqbZQpKDIWrzF9K7yG2r1PKnN0MTpfOJ2UBsfBio06Y_U/s16000/received_3646557922226033.jpeg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Our Gang at Mermaid Winery for dinner
</td>
</tr>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv3N361cF3BhyDqjcC7b2ZnstvUIbl4vxzb-fT35u-ZTzNw0On8QacPQNEsEiQ14uqMebqAGtKyjBFRLJusuXl2cPWdcriDcqD8XnfjaD3V9lOYHMT1YcYKuZsAtflCA0vSlO-31Rckr9w_goSK93AuruQBEsWBB5fwnsh4NL6F4Zza6hMqB_Dz3HsVAA/s3393/20231231_213409.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1762"
data-original-width="3393"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv3N361cF3BhyDqjcC7b2ZnstvUIbl4vxzb-fT35u-ZTzNw0On8QacPQNEsEiQ14uqMebqAGtKyjBFRLJusuXl2cPWdcriDcqD8XnfjaD3V9lOYHMT1YcYKuZsAtflCA0vSlO-31Rckr9w_goSK93AuruQBEsWBB5fwnsh4NL6F4Zza6hMqB_Dz3HsVAA/s16000/20231231_213409.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
The final moonrise of 2023
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div>
<b
><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"
>A LOOK BACK...</span
></b
>
</div>
<div>
<div>
Without question, 2023 has been one of the most eventful years of my life.
It was my first full year of retirement and included a major move back to
my old homeplace in Virginia. In Greensboro, Ms. B. and I went through
some of the worst household issues ever, first and foremost being the
downright monstrous expense of replacing our sewer line (<b
><a
href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2023/03/aint-that-shit-part-1-probably.html"
target="_blank"
>"Ain't That the Shit!"</a
></b
>). Once we decided to move to Martinsville, we simultaneously went
through the processes of upgrading our Greensboro house to sell and
upgrading Pleasant Hill to move. What a long, expensive, labor-intensive
job (<b
><a
href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2023/04/im-getting-too-old-for-this-shit.html"
target="_blank"
>"I'm Getting Too Old for This Shit!"</a
></b
>). Fortunately, we got a good price on the Greensboro place, and while
there are still some things we need (and want) to do in Martinsville, the
house and town have turned out to be — unlike Greensboro has become — a
comfortable, peaceful place to settle.
</div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a target="_blank" href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/catalog/deathrealm-spirits-horror-anthology/"
imageanchor="1"
style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em;"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1426"
data-original-width="955"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcnMvcIAS4bAgtIN_qjJrYp7OjMXGZ7EERr4tt-3IyXiP4Kzfbr-ErQIagcz73ampI81oj6yC9jskr2nu7PseWMXnQRHVqQo2_dqOezC2tIbumKEXA5vVyfOngZAYn5NFFRRoTVnuQryaETry1CsbkXLydTwKdUftBA57VjTyW1sA4vyd8RZs7STMvdU6/s16000/Screenshot_20240115_003641.jpg" height="408"></a>
</div>
<br />
<div>
Early in the year and into the summer, along with all the physical labor, I
was immersed in editing
<i style="font-weight: bold;"
><a
href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/catalog/deathrealm-spirits-horror-anthology/"
target="_blank"
>Deathrealm: Spirits</a
></i
>, which came out in October from
<b
><a
href="https://shortwavepublishing.com/catalog/deathrealm-spirits-horror-anthology/"
target="_blank"
>Shortwave Publishing</a
></b
>. As with any anthology, it was an involved process, but overall, I reckon
things came together as smoothly as I could have hoped. It's a beautiful
book that includes superb work from many of the biggest and best names in
the business. I hope you'll avail yourselves to it if you haven't already.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
One of the hardest events to deal with this past year was the death of my
good friend and regular geocaching partner, <b>Rob Isenhour</b>. We had well
over a decade of experiences together, and whenever our (mostly) weekend
geocaching group, <b>The No-Dead-Weight Irregulars</b>, manages to get
together (sadly, not as frequently these days, since we are far more spread
apart), the gap that Rob left behind seems massive. We do so miss him.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Having turned fairly old, this year has hit me with a few health challenges
— none all that severe, but numerous and just serious enough to become real,
if mostly temporary impediments. This last round of dental difficulty (<b
><a
href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2023/12/fun-and-games-with-tooth-extractions.html"
target="_blank"
>"Fun & Games with Tooth Extractions"</a
></b
>) was the icing on the medical cake for this year. I can't say I approve,
but at least I've mostly mended.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
All in all, I can safely say this year has been another positive, if bumpy
step forward in the walk into the unknown. I suppose, to put it in the
immortal words of
<b
><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1432981/" target="_blank"
>Dr. Franklin Ruehl</a
></b
>, it's better (at least sometimes) than being slapped in the belly with a
wet trout.
</div>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-81381495997365656692023-12-26T12:28:00.014-05:002023-12-27T15:05:51.789-05:00Scary Christmas and Happy Horrordays!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZPXEVDJrrEHc-Mquvt0NzxMd7_wRy96bBI3sXLcNkxUhO3duEXdPVC-JGQK1qwKR0wv_uRvTknJ3jn5RaJm0r-Ksu6lyJRnTtJ5JS2zBPWN3dm5kneWZZaj30TR8cOpcgIWCdHtWX-1VQNDY-1spA41wtPhu-Yp02tZdpsfJU9C7Z8SD8PmelIsFfClF/s1600/20231224_102044-2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 0em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2039" data-original-width="4300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZPXEVDJrrEHc-Mquvt0NzxMd7_wRy96bBI3sXLcNkxUhO3duEXdPVC-JGQK1qwKR0wv_uRvTknJ3jn5RaJm0r-Ksu6lyJRnTtJ5JS2zBPWN3dm5kneWZZaj30TR8cOpcgIWCdHtWX-1VQNDY-1spA41wtPhu-Yp02tZdpsfJU9C7Z8SD8PmelIsFfClF/s1600/20231224_102044-2.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoChIf7mheCitA4LLiWxIRMyfV8SBxgp7wu7SRlIELDyNmKE4e43755Te6p5zElB-rtz1yUXk-DBwT0hyphenhyphenvmUZkYxZJ98RF3w7FmmJ35T_in9NCfQ59CO2SOCtRfcUa6IJ2g-o-DxWgmn_Qlew7CiYy_Hz4cR0KTHvOhHmFzp9n5lqREaLumILo9eLYMBC/s3632/20231225_153222.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: -1em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3632" data-original-width="2268" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoChIf7mheCitA4LLiWxIRMyfV8SBxgp7wu7SRlIELDyNmKE4e43755Te6p5zElB-rtz1yUXk-DBwT0hyphenhyphenvmUZkYxZJ98RF3w7FmmJ35T_in9NCfQ59CO2SOCtRfcUa6IJ2g-o-DxWgmn_Qlew7CiYy_Hz4cR0KTHvOhHmFzp9n5lqREaLumILo9eLYMBC/s16000/20231225_153222.jpg" /></a>
</div>
<div>
<br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>CHRISTMAS EVE MORNING</b>...</span></span>
I got up fairly early, well before Ms. B., and made my usual Christmas Eve
morning slapjacks. Tradition, don't you know. On a whim, I took a photo of
the cast of the 1974 original <b><i>Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla</i></b>, the lot of whom are hanging out on the shelf in my office. Then I did a
little Photoshop job to post as a Christmas greeting. And as you can see,
these guys are sure having a great time!
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Brugger and I had ordered a bar set a while back as a Christmas present to
each other, so we spent most of the afternoon hammering it all together.
It's really quite lovely, and I made an extra run to the liquor store to insure we had sufficient spirits to stock it up. We put it
to good use during the evening, as friends
<b>Charles</b> and <b>Samaire</b> came round for treats. We ended up going
till the wee hours; a most enjoyable little gathering.<br />
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDVr4Zd3bg-v66mziM0VN3jIdumaqAthyE2NusXVx9rQemeeV0XC_CDRNNlMoJkX3mADgFBW_8WtQxwA2Wpaww_tDPXYiP_Xs595qwtE_y-7p8DiN4lcbMRAZxJ6q4l-CRrtn91NnQUMTJaKDcSkubyQ_taZXy3xK9B6YGD3VSeSMGhJe0gCW8mVZTh0C/s3559/20231224_173932.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2077" data-original-width="3559" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDVr4Zd3bg-v66mziM0VN3jIdumaqAthyE2NusXVx9rQemeeV0XC_CDRNNlMoJkX3mADgFBW_8WtQxwA2Wpaww_tDPXYiP_Xs595qwtE_y-7p8DiN4lcbMRAZxJ6q4l-CRrtn91NnQUMTJaKDcSkubyQ_taZXy3xK9B6YGD3VSeSMGhJe0gCW8mVZTh0C/s16000/20231224_173932.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
An absolutely lovely Christmas Eve at Casa di Rodan<br />
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">CHRISTMAS MORNING...</span></span></b>
Quite early, our houseful of housecats set to hollering impatiently to get
their gifts from Santa, so that was all she wrote for dad getting any more
sleep. The afternoon weather forecast wasn't looking promising, though the
temperature was lovely, so once Ms. B. was up and going, she and I took a
pleasant walk around nearby Lake Lanier. Then she started dinner cooking — a
big ol' pot roast in the crock pot to make shredded beef to go on jalapeno
pasta a friend gave us a while back.
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRV_anQF2xM5BDBObB6OCC-Vuh0GQjQdXOCmKgObWgxQ5mIiJj6mvk0PhLLcPEHy3mL6yBQWOsV8vQn6OKscFCpRv7SoWTmycy4NjxdolRLiZVelR02Hb0ENcVbgrKAo6sjJLIyEIsTwMS0KjoXjOR8zTBw-uOEHpyflEtHHmvYy3HFU1gAziloa6DVGS/s3221/20231225_112058.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1759" data-original-width="3221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRV_anQF2xM5BDBObB6OCC-Vuh0GQjQdXOCmKgObWgxQ5mIiJj6mvk0PhLLcPEHy3mL6yBQWOsV8vQn6OKscFCpRv7SoWTmycy4NjxdolRLiZVelR02Hb0ENcVbgrKAo6sjJLIyEIsTwMS0KjoXjOR8zTBw-uOEHpyflEtHHmvYy3HFU1gAziloa6DVGS/s16000/20231225_112058.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Wacky people taking a Christmas morning walk around Lake Lanier<br />
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
<div></div>
<div>
Friends <b>Terry</b> & <b>Beth</b> recently picked up a brand-new
huge-screen TV for themselves, so they very kindly donated their old one to
us. Brugger and I spent the early afternoon getting it set up. Then I
made mulled wine. <b>Allison</b> originally intended to come round during
the afternoon, but she had gone to visit her mom in Greensboro and their
festivities ran a bit late, so we'll be seeing her at some later time.
Mid-afternoon, Kimberly and I opened our presents to each other, and there
were good things. A new S.H. MonsterArts <b>Gigan</b> figure is a particular
favorite, and he's now up on the shelf with the rest of the daikaiju figures
that currently haunt our house. I took a photo of him and futzed around with
the scenery. After all this, Brugger set to work building a chess pie for
tonight's dessert.
</div>
<div> </div>
<div>The cats made out like bandits, by the way. <br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09PiIduFkiF4pngZHpBDM-0KpgiW152Yx5qlA3zmvw6pt9nmis-qsW0TPsWdbgEvrk2LaS2ThMjuzdS0dUXU8VC_qWUR7mGU0dYv4E8VAgXt7dUnacMbOyuw9Y25JY_fGBNyDZ6XfRPB0D55v1uMOK8IXJQTJJ9BhGEq_NkMRVEUE8unqg1pQ7QolY35_/s3152/gigan.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="2230" data-original-width="3152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09PiIduFkiF4pngZHpBDM-0KpgiW152Yx5qlA3zmvw6pt9nmis-qsW0TPsWdbgEvrk2LaS2ThMjuzdS0dUXU8VC_qWUR7mGU0dYv4E8VAgXt7dUnacMbOyuw9Y25JY_fGBNyDZ6XfRPB0D55v1uMOK8IXJQTJJ9BhGEq_NkMRVEUE8unqg1pQ7QolY35_/s16000/gigan.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXwM0G4b2SOWKuBfyYI8EHTpUqQqlFcKow1fDLSOQ8pkGWhfR60fhbBdEbAIPWmcCpcKF1rrS3sD9iOkO187wbEXue5SeHwS7dAkIIPOYAfpAicjyaBwkHqesuS1em-nqk4WFNJbZS19aDnFUNj5y6SSiaE88WlT_PqdMwd37ve-IERGzZZjua8YgHHGR/s3469/20231225_180144.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="2156" data-original-width="3469" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXwM0G4b2SOWKuBfyYI8EHTpUqQqlFcKow1fDLSOQ8pkGWhfR60fhbBdEbAIPWmcCpcKF1rrS3sD9iOkO187wbEXue5SeHwS7dAkIIPOYAfpAicjyaBwkHqesuS1em-nqk4WFNJbZS19aDnFUNj5y6SSiaE88WlT_PqdMwd37ve-IERGzZZjua8YgHHGR/s16000/20231225_180144.jpg" width="516" /></a>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Our shredded beef on jalapeno pasta with roasted brussel sprouts turned out fantastic — amped up with
a bit of Smoky Bourbon Ghost Pepper that Santa put in my stocking. And
Brugger's chess pie for dessert was out of this world. For our second
dessert, we watched </span><b style="text-align: left;"><i>Destroy All Monsters</i></b><span style="text-align: left;">
on the big-screen TV, which came purty near duplicating a fun theatrical
experience (my most memorable </span><b style="text-align: left;"><i>Destroy All Monsters </i></b><span style="text-align: left;">experience is detailed here: </span><b style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2014/09/a-random-godzilla-story.html" target="_blank">"A Random Godzilla Story," September 7, 2014</a></b><span style="text-align: left;">).</span>
</div>
</div>
<div> </div>
<div>
And so ended another lovely Christmas Day. Christmas was my parents' favorite
holiday, and I always find myself a bit wistful, since I am the last of the
family I grew up with. I tend to not dwell on that fact, but at Christmas,
it's easy — and, for me, desirable — to reflect on what a wonderful family I
did have and to express my love and appreciation for my current family: Ms.
B., my daughter, and, of course, our four lovable yet terrible catses. I could
hardly ask for more.
</div>
<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg-e2IBavP9kbv4zUtfTcJXmBdaMZMzPI3J4djuGBdqUOwCSicoGdJ4c0SzRi4mEEsYKvdFssxtiJ6vZ09gCNtZtA7Na_l5BpGrm57_JA9XfbRJzfqEs1F6O3XFgQFXIo9CBlzJhjFsryjY83cCaS2_qsg7nXUX-LKwtsfHfeDWe4WFfC_j4TsOLTz0Bhe/s2409/20231226_094645.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg-e2IBavP9kbv4zUtfTcJXmBdaMZMzPI3J4djuGBdqUOwCSicoGdJ4c0SzRi4mEEsYKvdFssxtiJ6vZ09gCNtZtA7Na_l5BpGrm57_JA9XfbRJzfqEs1F6O3XFgQFXIo9CBlzJhjFsryjY83cCaS2_qsg7nXUX-LKwtsfHfeDWe4WFfC_j4TsOLTz0Bhe/s16000/20231226_094645.jpg" />
</a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcaN2DqnhgC_JDnxC-nt2wAsmfohqSnn3oRCzVtmjwu6gj089LtFGAReqKW9VEIveOnhCAhh61H_X3Q6yRYeOKPwVIEFG1RTRZNx_XRZgUsr_1wTdpc3f2z0bwdlSQGsFQWm3nlJuq7sh8jhQh2812vU2DxKRqT78c9Jl0uRK9YUeFlIJujlfvfqVYcRCF/s2245/20231226_102747.jpg" target="_blank"><img height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcaN2DqnhgC_JDnxC-nt2wAsmfohqSnn3oRCzVtmjwu6gj089LtFGAReqKW9VEIveOnhCAhh61H_X3Q6yRYeOKPwVIEFG1RTRZNx_XRZgUsr_1wTdpc3f2z0bwdlSQGsFQWm3nlJuq7sh8jhQh2812vU2DxKRqT78c9Jl0uRK9YUeFlIJujlfvfqVYcRCF/s16000/20231226_102747.jpg" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">L: There's nothing like relaxing with a hot cup of coffee and a bear hard
on your trail.<br />R: My new coaster has bigger feet than your
coaster.</span>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-36894204394505392992023-12-24T09:47:00.005-05:002023-12-24T13:06:22.286-05:00A Happy Horrorday Freebie — "Masque of the Queen"<a href="https://www.stephenmarkrainey.com/images/Masque_of_the_Queen.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="412" src="https://www.stephenmarkrainey.com/images/Masque_of_the_Queen.jpg" /></a>
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: xx-small;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></span><p><br /><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>A FREEBIE!</b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>Submitted for your approval: a sampling from my short story collection,
<b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09XFXVBDN/&tag=thereaofstema-20" target="_blank">Fugue Devil: Resurgence</a></i></b>... a tale of eldritch horror titled “<b>Masque of the Queen</b>.” This one
originally appeared in
<b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Court-Yellow-King-Various/dp/4902075695/&tag=thereaofstema-20" target="_blank">In the Court of the Yellow King</a></i></b>
(<b>Celaeno Press</b>, 2014), a volume of stories inspired by
<b>Robert W. Chambers</b>’ “<b>The King in Yellow</b>” — a play that brings
madness, despair... or death... to anyone who reads it.
</p><p>
“<b>Masque of the Queen</b>” follows a young actress slated to play
<b>Queen Cassilda </b>in an off-Broadway production of “<b>The King in Yellow</b>.” Unaware of the play’s dreadful reputation, she finds herself desperate to
escape the clutches of something intent on dragging her into a realm of
madness and horror.
</p>
<p>
It’s downloadable as a <b>PDF</b> or ebook (<b>mobi</b> or <b>epub</b> file)
from my website.<br /><br />
</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><hr />
<a href="https://www.stephenmarkrainey.com/free_fiction.html" target="_blank"><b>Check it out here: “Masque of the Queen”</b></a>
<hr />
</span>
</div>
Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-21627654729818882832023-12-23T17:20:00.006-05:002024-01-10T11:39:18.123-05:00Christmas Comes to Supper Club<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeNFQMrMQDKj6b1-ObjdxNFNs0WQfkbBZthiOKd_wsW8Kg57iXiQpm1w-iqcFx8vw4CruKfM9I-LXFXlmLJ9uWbA35Y2TXyad-aLgBfjcb8-y4Cb7x-cWoraCzmQhiTN9zWgzCmtEw0kxCeNYE10XL2Bef1cP8QoVBAHT53hfvYpXvPUAL-EiA1lGRdU5M/s2000/20231222_225911.jpg"
><img
border="0"
data-original-height="1419"
data-original-width="2000"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeNFQMrMQDKj6b1-ObjdxNFNs0WQfkbBZthiOKd_wsW8Kg57iXiQpm1w-iqcFx8vw4CruKfM9I-LXFXlmLJ9uWbA35Y2TXyad-aLgBfjcb8-y4Cb7x-cWoraCzmQhiTN9zWgzCmtEw0kxCeNYE10XL2Bef1cP8QoVBAHT53hfvYpXvPUAL-EiA1lGRdU5M/s16000/20231222_225911.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</div>
Throughout the year, our good friends, <b>Joe</b> & <b>Suzy </b>and
<b>Terry</b> & <b>Beth</b>, get together with <b>Brugger</b> & me for a
regular, (almost) monthly dinner & drink gathering we simply call "<b
>Supper Club</b
>." We alternate hosting the gathering at our respective residences, but Terry
& Beth pretty much have dibs on December, since it's Beth's favorite time to
entertain. Last night was this year's Christmas Supper Club.
<div><br /></div>
<div>
As it happened, friends <b>Natalie </b>and <b>Scott</b>, of the
<b>No-Dead-Weight Irregulars</b> geocaching team, were both
available for a day of geocaching (an all-too-rare event these days), so we
met in Winston-Salem yesterday morning, hiked and drove, and drove and hiked,
and found a good many caches. Then we split up and I buzzed over to
Kernersville to Terry & Beth's place. It wasn't long before our dinner
gathering was complete, and out came the wine.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
So, so much wine, including several of the bottles that we brought back from
our Pacific Northwest/Alaska trip back in the fall.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Beth's dinner, as always, rocked rockets. Onion tarts, ham & cheese
sliders, BBQ chicken sliders, veggies, cheeses, and other small plate fare,
plus eclairs and chocolate for dessert. Much later in the evening, we went out
among the natives to gawk at the neighborhood's impressive Christmas
decorations. It wasn't really a caroling outing, but some in the area
<i>might</i> mention that they heard somebody belting out the happy strains of
"Timothy," by the Buoys (1971), which is easily the best song about
cannibalism ever to hit the American Top 40. Okay, it may not be a Christmas
carol, but it's kind of about feasting and celebrating, and we
<i>were</i> starting to get hungry again.
</div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfs_6QTMr97RelFIN3V4FcTmMiH5sU5nGWeFJXz1Ava5eilLuAr-zuDgb61OIm8j5rUn5a_pKCXCtOj-YZMPROSxhnlcHVLEKCnUh6z8vZpysdXfMIVvi-pdhmnOjtgyIf6ct9CC3KmeYvVbjT8JEDxZsm5eA7Uub35FsDwCis7u4LY-E2opUuKyWZMZBv/s2000/20231222_225901.jpg"
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Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2667620598366061914.post-91791263341134333602023-12-21T16:46:00.014-05:002023-12-23T16:50:30.869-05:00The Everyday Walkies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div>
One of the absolute highlights of having moved back to my original homeplace
in Martinsville is that the neighborhood is so conducive to walking. There are
lots of woods, beautiful homes, big hills (which I make a point
<i>not</i> to shy away from), and some very nice folks. When I was
growing up in the 1960s and 70s, Martinsville had a large industrial and
commercial base — primarily furniture and textiles — which kept most of the
town employed, and with a remarkably high standard of living. During those
days, there were more millionaires per square mile in Martinsville than
anywhere in the United States. Sadly, those big employers are long gone, and
for many years, Martinsville was damn near a ghost town. The place is still
largely a shadow of what it once was, but there are enough entrepreneurs and
creative individuals who are dedicated to bringing a new renaissance to town
that have helped reverse the negative trend. And there's still some old money
floating around that has provided a bulwark against the influx of too many
ghosts.
</div>
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</div>
<br />
<div>
So, back to my original point, I walk two to three miles every day, usually
mid-morning, and apart from occasional weather-related cancelations, I have
managed to keep to the schedule religiously. Combined with a couple of weeks
of barely being able to eat, thanks to complications from having a tooth
yanked (see
<b
><a
href="https://stephenmarkrainey.blogspot.com/2023/12/fun-and-games-with-tooth-extractions.html"
target="_blank"
>Fun and Games with Tooth Extractions," December 14, 2023</a
></b
>), I've lost several pounds. Whether I can keep them off is the eternal
question, but it would be nice to remain shed of some of that extra weight
that just plain exercise doesn't excise.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Sometimes I walk in the woods, as there are a few decent trails around, some
official, some less so. I own a plethora of geocaches in the area, and I try
to keep them well-maintained. I've found a few entertaining decorative items
in nearby yards, clearly indicating some creative residents (see photos). And
the long walks are great for listening to audiobooks, which have about become
my primary means of "reading," since my eyes don't hold up for long spells of
usage the way they used to. I've gotten through <b>Ian Fleming's</b> entire
<b><i>James Bond 007</i></b> series,
<b>Stephen King & Richard Chizmar's <i>Gwendy</i></b> series, <b
>John Scalzi's <i>Daikaiju Preservation Society</i></b
>,<i> </i><b>Arthur C. Clarke's</b> <i><b>2001: A Space Odyssey</b></i
>, <b>Peter Benchley's</b> <i><b>Jaws</b></i
>, <b>William Peter Blatty's <i>The Exorcist</i></b
>,<i> </i><b>Mark Frost's</b>
<i><b>Secret History of Twin Peaks</b> </i>and
<i><b>Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier</b></i
>, <b>F. Paul Wilson's <i>The Keep</i></b
>, and I'm currently listening to the second of four books in friend/fellow
author <b>Leverett Butt's <i>Guns of the Waste Land</i></b> series. Many of
these are "re-reads," but they're books I've been looking to revisit for the
longest time, and what an enjoyable opportunity to get back to them it's been.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>Here's hoping a tolerable winter, walking-weather-wise.</div>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Gh4npUR8TWoFGO57ZMq9Nwz1G6IF2zsydT4kxmghLmkd1gznN6NrxgTG-TJ84nTNsfpvy53C77TjOvBin9o188GNGCKNwXk36oHSpOnhnNIbCWoMcm2xIQjz2OeBYtZwvMw4cDuSNkenOoBhu91ag4kGe9ETnDpmzZAm_RigYv-CrJW5Ps807DJmYNCF/s2897/20231129_144950.jpg"
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><img
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Gh4npUR8TWoFGO57ZMq9Nwz1G6IF2zsydT4kxmghLmkd1gznN6NrxgTG-TJ84nTNsfpvy53C77TjOvBin9o188GNGCKNwXk36oHSpOnhnNIbCWoMcm2xIQjz2OeBYtZwvMw4cDuSNkenOoBhu91ag4kGe9ETnDpmzZAm_RigYv-CrJW5Ps807DJmYNCF/s16000/20231129_144950.jpg"
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</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
About to embark on a chilly-weather excursion
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<a
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><img
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/></a>
</td>
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<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
A closer look, and you might see a few hundred turkey buzzards
gathered around Lake Lanier, just down the street from home.
</td>
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<a
href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi311GWMxwjdeErlVRrYlSZkycjheAYOyphbGhqIty-ueSX25-XRX6GZ3_lDBFM7J_UqwopqPKkgNHDzReaUb1j3LXsbfcaTDY2i7K98wUUDt3B3pGrujqhWQBCUY3FCf-BltZANkFM7b4aFmgQtpCPwhqBDxrUKPQOSAuzsH_vEEYlrCus1txRn6sUHdUV/s4032/20231122_100838.jpg"
style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"
><img
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data-original-height="2268"
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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi311GWMxwjdeErlVRrYlSZkycjheAYOyphbGhqIty-ueSX25-XRX6GZ3_lDBFM7J_UqwopqPKkgNHDzReaUb1j3LXsbfcaTDY2i7K98wUUDt3B3pGrujqhWQBCUY3FCf-BltZANkFM7b4aFmgQtpCPwhqBDxrUKPQOSAuzsH_vEEYlrCus1txRn6sUHdUV/s16000/20231122_100838.jpg"
width="516"
/></a>
</td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Another view of the lake
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Stephen Mark Raineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10338247201048681867noreply@blogger.com0