These Old Bones


Sunday – a day of rest.

I wish!

I’m sixty (I whisper that number quietly in my head). Never thought I’d live to see this age. A child of the fifties, I thought I’d stay young forever. I guess we all think that, but here I am SIXTY!

Weekends used to be spent partying, dancing, sleeping late, and then if I could find time, doing housework. I had lots of energy back in the day, it wasn’t a problem. My body isn’t quite as flexible anymore. Yesterday I cleaned house, worked on the yard (yes all 3 1/2 acres), cooked and baked. I rose at 6:30 am and by the time I sat down, it was 6:30 pm.

I forgot my age and when I got out of bed this morning THESE OLD BONES ACHED

2017 Annus Mirabilis

img_0582No, I’m not learning Latin. Although if I have time, I may take Italian Lessons! For those of you who faithfully follow my blog, you’ll know I’ve been absent for a while. You could say I’m trying to get my $*%@ together again! I’ve been writing since I was in High School (and that’s a VERY long time ago), my head is full of stories, some true, some started by my late dad, and some in a back room of my brain, waiting to break free.

My absence was caused because my life has changed a little. I lost my job a couple of years ago, and my new position, with a much larger company, is much more taxing. I come home drained. I think I’ve finally gotten used to that. My health changed, fought with it for a while, but hopefully I have that under control too. Lastly my husband doesn’t travel any more, so the house is a little noisier. Now thats fixed that too. We had a small addition built, which gives me a little more privacy in my little study.

Now, I’m comfortable again and ready to hit the ground running.

I’m working on re-editing a couple of old stories, which will be released as a compilation later this year. It’ll be a cheap buy, because I want lots of folks to read it. Two of the stories were the first I ever published, and in my excitement to get them out there, I omitted making them perfect. I’m making them perfect now. (well as perfect as possible).

It feels good to be back, to be writing again!


Three Ghosts – Part One

My Mum1I arrived home from a GOD AWFUL day at work.”Why is it I’m never patted on the back for doing a good job?” I thought to myself. “One flipping mistake and I’m reprimanded in a room full of people. Dammit, why do I care so much?”

“You care because you’re made that way!”

I spun around. Was it my mother’s voice I heard? It really was a bad day if I heard voices. I changed into comfortable clothes, poured myself a glass of wine and sat on the porch. I needed to be outside where the air was fresh. It would cleanse the odour of failure. What an awful work day. No what an awful work year. “Why do I care?”  I asked myself again.

“Aren’t you listening to me? You care because you’re made that way. Remember how we used to sing, pick yourself up, dust yourself down and start all over again? You saw me do just that more times than I care to remember.”


No answer!

I began to cry. Not big heaving sobs, but tears of sadness and exhaustion trickled down my face. Darkness settled around me, the birds silenced as the sounds of night took over. The chair next to me creaked a little, as though some one has shifted position. I dried my eyes and went inside to pour myself another glass of wine. The wind chimes played a soft tune with no help from the wind. As I approached the front door the porch light dimmed. One of the bulbs must have gone, I though to myself as I walked towards the soft glow.

The night was silent. You could have heard a pin drop. No birds, no crickets, not even the whisper of a breeze.

I sat down, knowing something was about to happen, and then she spoke.

“Talk to me, little girl, tell me what’s wrong”


“I’m not her for long so talk to me. What can I do?” Yes, it was my mother’s voice. The glow that surrounded me wasn’t from electricity, it was her warm, healing aura.

“I’m lost mum, I don’t know where I’m going or where I’ve been. I’m just lost.”

“No, you’ve hit a bump in the road that’s all. Don’t let it get you down. Move on.”

“Move on to what? Move on to where? What do you mean.” I asked

“Move on to what makes you happy. Learn from your mistakes and don’t make them again. We had some rough times you and I, but we survived. You can get through this.”

The light was fading. “Mum, don’t go, stay a while longer.”

“I wish I could pet, but its time for me to leave.”

The porch light came back on, but the glow was harsh. I went back inside. She was right. Even if I’d just imagined my mum, her words were right. As I turned to lock the screen door a sweet smell wafted through. It was the smell of Sweet Peas, Lily of the Valley and vanilla, it was the smell of my mother.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson




rain window “I’m tired of the Corporate world.  There I’ve said it.” Trina said to a group of bleary eyed executives sitting around a conference room table. “I am tired, burnt out, exhausted and this will be my last deal. I miss my baby girl, my husband and my home. I want to enjoy my life, not be a prisoner to stress. I’m done.”

“Yea, yea, until they dangle another promotion and raise in front of you. Then you will be hooked again, for just a little bit longer”. her college said.

Trina looked out of the window of the tenth floor conference room. The drizzle had turned to heavy rain. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples in an effort to ease her throbbing head. “No I’m done. I am going home while I still have the energy to drive.” She walked from the room, a petite figure in a blue suit. “She’ll be back.” The CEO said jovially. She likes the challenge.

Trina was tired of the challenge, bone tired. As she slid behind the wheel of her little sports car she laughed and though, I am going to buy a big hulking ‘mum mobile’ this car doesn’t work for kids. She drove out of the parking garage an onto the street and was immediately blinded by lightning. Wow, that won’t help my headache, she thought.

lighteningShe inched her way carefully through the flooded city streets and breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the highway. The phone rang and she pushed the button to answer it. The sweet sound of her baby girl filled the car. “Will you be home soon mummy?” she asked.

“Yes sweetie I will. You get ready for bed, I will be there in two shakes of a lambs tail.” she answered.

“Love you mummy”

“Love you too pet”

Trina smiled briefly before the truck hit her.

RainThen her world went black. When she opened her eyes she was floating in a surreal world. Nothing was solid. Disturbing shapes in suits floated past her, reaching out to her. She tried to put her feet on the ground to balance herself, but she had no control. Trina opened her mouth to scream for help, but no sound came out. Someone was calling her name. TRINA, TRINA. She looked towards the voice. It was her boss. He was reaching out to her, bundles of money in his hands. She turned away.

She heard another voice Mummy, mummy, come back, I love you, I’m over here, can you see me? I need you. That voice made her feel warm and comfortable. She turned to see her baby girl looking at her with tears in her eyes. Trina moved towards the voice, and to the lovely fresh smell of her little girl.

A loud noise invaded the tranquility and she panicked, unable to hear her baby anymore. She was sweating, fighting with something. Trina felt a hand grip her arm. Oh god, was she dead. Has she been in a car accident?

“Trina, Trina, wake up.” It was her husband Ben. “You were having a bad dream.” he said as he turned off the alarm. Her baby girl was standing in the bedroom doorway with an alarmed look on her face. “Mummy are you alright.” she asked “Can I have a cuddle?”

“Yes sweetie, come and snuggle up with me, I need a cuddle too.”  Lucy bounced onto the bed and under the covers. Trina felt good.

Ben looked at the clock. “You are going to be late for work love.” he said.

“I am not going to work.” she replied

“Are you taking the day off, I thought you had a big meeting today and would be staying late.”

Trina hugged her daughter and smiled. “I am taking the next five years off, maybe longer”  she said as she snuggled back under the covers with her precious baby girl.


DEAD OF JULY, my first novel, will be released later this year. Watch out for it! Preview Dead of July

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