Friday Frivolity: Revelation

I’m quite sure I’ve mentioned that we now have hardwood flooring.  This has resulted in some rather significant changes in our life style.  Some changes were predictable.

Obviously we no longer vacuum carpeting…we now clean up my crumbs swifter.  Yeah, I know…bad grammar.  It’s true though.  Regardless of current brand names, the age old dust mop is swifter.  Additionally, pushing a microfiber altar, alluring wayward refuse to its charismatic movement, is far more tranquil than lugging a screaming vacuum chamber with a cord a few inches shorter than any distance to single outlet.

Dust mopping is enabled by the smoothness of the floor.  Said smoothness also facilitates moving furniture.  Rather than not-so-worshipful kneeling to reach out to corruption hiding beneath the sofa, we now slide the sofa away from the wall to easily embark on a missionary journey to the lost.  Ah, yes…a manifest revelation.

Revelation in both the sense of discovery and disclosure.  This past week such a journey behind the couch the lost was found.  “Oh, look,”  Sue exclaimed, “There’s where my eraser went.”…as if the eraser had such animated ability to actually choose to go anywhere.

Just for clarification, this eraser is not the kind you twist onto the end of a pencil.  It is a pencil like tubular container of an eradicating noodle.  So, this was an instrument not as easily lost as a bouncing bit of rust colored rubber.

When I recalled that she was in search of that erasing tool more than a week ago, I asked; “How did you manage without that eraser for so long?”

“Oh, I didn’t really need to find it immediately.  I’ve got one or two more of them, around somewhere.”  And that, my friends, is the disclosure revelation.  Her ambiguous declaration of  “one or two” indicates she doesn’t know the whereabouts of the one…maybe two…not, at that moment, on the end table nor the one previously crouched beneath the couch.  Furthermore, her implicit  “ I have” clearly discloses she has assumed possession of the eraser I previously had on the desk.

Actually, Sue’s propensity to misplace her things and/or misappropriate mine is not a recent revelation.  It is, however, part of her mystique which is so attractive to me.


I want to share a short history in the evolution of STUMPED. Some of this is to clarify the semantics regarding “my book”.
Definitively STUMPED is not “my book”. And truthfully, STUMPED isn’t either. Obviously, I need to clarify. In the world of publishing, the Publisher owns the book while the writer owns the text. That takes care of clarifying the definition. The truthfully part will take a little more explaining.
Long story short…Richard Baldwin and I began negotiations four years ago to have Buttonwood Press publish my work. His vision was a book of ?s of the day. I had dreamed of a book of some stories from my Friday Frivolities.
Rich had trouble pronouncing Frivolities so my dream seemed to be popping faster than blown bubbles in a pine forest. My perception of Publisher-Author relations also popped when he agreed to have my ?s of the day only as segues to Frivolous stories. Laughing at Life glistened like an iridescent bubble refusing to burst.
My copyright…his book. Laughing in Stitches and Laughing while Shopping followed the same pattern. The ?s of the day, which Rich thought should be a stand-alone book, continued to be a sub-title of the books and segues to my short stories.
Note: My stories, his books…definitely. Yet none of the first three are the book he first imagined in 2014.
STUMPED is Richard Baldwin’s book—definitively and truthfully. The questions within it are mine, but this is the book Rich has wanted to publish all along. What an awesome Publisher! I got 3 of my dreams realized before he gets his off the presses. I am thrilled to be “in” Rich’s book.