Jennifer M. Zeiger's Blog, page 15

Night Creature – Ask the Gecko for Help

Welcome to the third post in the Night Creature Adventure!

You can read Part One and Part Two, or here’s a quick recap:

You’re standing watch on the keep wall during a terrible snow storm when you see a figure slip over the parapet. When you investigate, you finally find a gecko-like creature clinging to the inside of the keep wall, melting the snow around it.

You helped the creature off the wall and gave him a blanket. He informed you then that he’s running away from a frost troll that’s headed for the keep. Readers voted to ask the gecko for help against the frost troll.

Night Creature – Ask the Gecko for Help

Where the gecko clutches your arm, you feel the print of its fingers starting to heat your skin. With a frost troll on its way, this tiny creature might be your best bet for survival anyway.

“Can you help us?” you ask him.

It shrinks back, hunching its shoulders inward until it looks even smaller. “Just tiny flame,” it protests. “What is that against troll?”

You admit, he doesn’t look like much, but many of the strongest creatures you’ve met don’t look all that impressive.

“You’ve blue eyes,” you say, “last I heard, that indicates a very hot tiny flame.”

Like this sparks something within him, his eyes become almost molten looking like you can see the flame he’s harboring inside.

He leans toward you. “Need fuel.”

“Wood?”

He nods. “Dry is best.”

Your mind immediately goes to the small stack of wood within the base of the tower that’s used for the fireplace that heats the guard station.

“How much wood?”

“Much, much wood.”

“All dry?”

“Some dry.”

“Stay here.” You hesitate briefly, afraid he’ll disappear if you let him out of you sight, but he holds your wool blanket tight around his slender frame and simply watches you through those crazy eyes.

Then you race down the tower steps. Usually Richard, the guard who’s supposed to replace you in another hour, sleeps on a bunk in the guard station, but he’s no where to be seen. You would have enlisted his help but now you don’t have the time to waste searching for him.

Instead, you flop the carry bag on the floor for the wood, toss chunks onto the bag, and then grunt as you lift it over your shoulder.

Once you get the night creature this load of dry wood, you’ll head out into the courtyard where the main pile is stacked. It’ll take a while, but he’ll get his much wood.

The tower steps never seemed so long until now, but finally you make it to the top to find the gecko has left the tower.

The door hangs open and through it, you see him standing on the wall beyond in a small circle of melted ice. He’s looking out into the blowing snow while still clutching the blanket around his shoulders.

“Hey,” you call, but he doesn’t turn to look. As you pass out the door, you grab your bow from where you set it against the tower wall. It’s awkward carrying it with the wood, but your training instilled in you to never be on the wall without it.

You’re half way to the gecko when you feel something looming in the blizzard. Its dark shape seems to push the swirling snow outward with greater fury. Then, as it steps closer, you see the round face of a troll that stands as tall as the wall. Its face is even with your new friend and when it spots the gecko, it grins, showing square, blocky teeth in a beard of frozen ice. Then a hand the size of a shield swings up like the troll’s going to pick up the gecko…or squash him. As he does, the gecko bursts into flame. In comparison, he’s toe sized, but the wall gives a splintering crack with the sudden change in temperature.

Your mind races. Would it be better to shoot an arrow at that descending hand or would it be better to toss the gecko chunks of wood so he has more fuel? You don’t have time to do both.

Do you…

Shoot Arrows?

or

Throw Fuel to Gecko

Thank you for joining this week’s adventure post. Leave your vote in the comments below and we’ll return to see how this adventure ends next Thursday.

Blessings,

Jennifer

(If you enjoy these adventures, check out my newest adventure book, Discarded Dragons!)

Maybe This is Where It All Started

I’d sit in the doorway of my sister’s bedroom and watch her reading, envying her ability to understand the words. There was something there, something I was missing out on, but try as I might, words on a black and white page refused to make sense to me.

One day, we were still in elementary school, she sat down with me with three books of her own. I’m not sure if they were school projects or something our parents helped her create, but they were stories she’d written. The words had been typed out and printed. Then cut up and pasted onto larger pages where my sister had drawn illustrations. Each book was stapled together and the covers were made of contact paper over cardstock.

To my young eyes, these books were the coolest things I’d ever seen. Her own stories, in actual books. She sat there with me and read them. One was about a garden and a princess. I don’t remember the other two, but even though I couldn’t read them, I’d pull them out later and look at her pictures, acting like I could.

It wasn’t until years later that the idea of being an author occurred to me, but I think the seed of it was planted then from those contact paper covers and hand drawn images.

Blessings,

Jennifer

Night Creature – Help It Off the Wall

Welcome to the second post in the Night Creature Adventure!

If you’d like to read part one click here, or here’s a quick recap:

You’re standing watch on the keep wall during a terrible snow storm when you see a figure slip over the parapet. When you investigate, you finally find a gecko-like creature clinging to the inside of the keep wall, melting the snow around it. Reader’s voted to help it off the wall instead of calling for the next guard in line.

Night Creature – Help It Off the Wall

The lizard creature continues to stare at you while its teeth clatter with the cold. Your standard operating procedure says you’re supposed to alert others if something comes over the wall but to do that you’d have to leave the creature and go find Garner again.

I’ve already alerted him, you think. And then you reach a hand down to the creature. If possible, its eyes get even bigger and it accepts your offer of help with its hot gecko-like hand.

Instantly the warmth coming off the creature shoots tingles through your chilled skin. It’s light and you have no problem hauling it back up onto the wall. Once there, however, it continues to shiver and stare at you.

“Come on,” you say, “I’ve got a blanket in the tower.”

It follows. With each step it takes, there’s a hiss and the ice under its feet turns to slush before draining away to leave small gecko prints in its wake.

Thankfully the tower isn’t far. You open the door to reveal a staircase leading down toward the guard station below, but no one’s at the top and you’re able to retrieve your blanket without having to answer any questions about your companion. The creature shucks out of its wet fur coat and accepts the blanket with a heavy sigh.

“What are you?” you ask.

It eyes you, pulling the wool blanket tighter around its narrow shoulders.

You lean back against the wall, musing aloud, “I’ve never seen your kind around the keep, so you’re probably not one of our common enemies. I’m guessing with the way you melt snow, you’re scared of being captured and sold for your heat. But something drove you to the keep anyway. Am I right?”

After a prolonged pause, it nods. “Frost troll,” it says.

“Here?”

“Heading this way.”

Although you’re inside and out of the wind, you feel a fist of cold in your chest. A single frost troll’s big enough to overtake the keep by itself while a snow storm’s happening. The added cold and moisture from the storm would enhance its natural abilities.

“The Captain needs to be warned.”

You start to turn but the gecko creature grasps your elbow. Its blue eyes are terrified and it looks like it’s two seconds from bolting out the tower door.

“He’ll believe you?”

This gives you pause. You can see in the gecko’s eyes that if you try to take him with you to tell the captain, he’ll do everything he can to disappear on you. And he might be justified in that. Any creature that can produce warmth is valuable in the frozen keep. But if you tell the captain without the gecko to corroborate, he might not believe you. A frost troll hasn’t been seen in years and yelling “TROLL” without proof could likely land in you the stocks. But what other choice do you have? The gecko was fleeing from the troll. With a wall and some help, could it fight instead? You’re not sure.

Do you…

Take the news to the Captain?

Or

Ask the Gecko for Help?

Thanks for stopping by the adventure this week! Leave your vote in the comments below and we’ll return next Thursday to continue.

Blessings,

Jennifer

(If you enjoy these adventures, check out my newest adventure book, Discarded Dragons!)

The Grandfather Clock

This one’s for my mom.

My grandfather was a craftsman. He took a pedestal table from a yard sale and rebuilt it into a lovely dining room table with slide out leaves. Over the matter of twenty years he built chairs with burlwood accents crafted in to complete the set. There’s a marble top chest floating around the family, a sideboard with inlaid granite, and even a set of grandfather clocks all made from my grandfather.

When the larger of the grandfather clocks passed to me, I was thrilled to have such a piece of our family history. And in transporting it, I immediately broke it. I hadn’t tied the chains for the move and they’d worked their way out of the gears. On top of that, the pendulum fell inside the frame when I went to hang it and broke into three pieces. I about cried.

My grandfather was a prepared man and he must have known the suspension spring that held the pendulum in place was likely to break at some point because he had an extra in the bottom of the clock. So, I set about replacing the broken piece—and quickly found out just how difficult that process was. The spring’s held by a suspension screw that holds a lot of other things in place with it.

Once I got the new spring put in, I set about restringing the chains. (I have no idea if this process has an actual name, but it’s a terror to actually do.)

Anyway, lots of frustration later, the suspension spring was in, the pendulum glued back together, and the chains on the gears again and miraculously, the clock was ticking and keeping time.

Let’s jump to my next move. I’d learned, on top of tying the chains, to remove the weights from the clock and move them in a separate container, but I hadn’t learned yet to keep them from shifting. When we unpacked, two of the three weights had squished their hooks. We tried to unsquash them and, being brass, they immediately snapped off. I did sit down and cry then, telling my husband that I was destroying the heirloom my family had entrusted to me. Sadly, there weren’t extra parts inside the clock this time. And ordering parts didn’t work.

So the clock sat, unworking, for years until my dad took it on as a project and found a leaf spring he could reshape into hooks. Working with him on the clock took me back to my childhood when we’d built a side table together from scrap wood. Perhaps the broken clock was an opportunity instead of a travesty. An opportunity my grandfather would have loved because, just like the pedestal table he’d rebuilt, we were reworking the clock and adding to its history.

Down the road, we had to move again. At the destination, everything initially looked good with the clock. We moved it in, untied the chains, and rehung the weights. After leveling it, we started the pendulum and time began ticking again. Then we turned on the chimes, only to find that several of the notes were missing. Two of the rods had snapped inside and were sitting in the base of the clock.

This time there were no tears as we surveyed the damage. My grandfather would have loved the new project to fix it, and we did as well. After trying to get the old rods out, which didn’t work as they’d snapped right at the base and it would have required a tiny drill to get them out that we didn’t have, we turned to finding new chimes.

And so the history of the clock continues. We found new chimes, had to bend the mallets inside the clock a bit to make everything line up, and the clock went from having a sweet, higher tone, to sounding like the deep tones of an old church.

I’ve grown to love it. I don’t look forward to moving the clock, or the possibility of it breaking more, but I love that generations have now had a hand in keeping it running and there’s a part of me that feels a connection to my grandfather who loved to work with his hands.

Blessings,

Jennifer

Night Creature

So far, I’m absolutely loving the flash fiction style for these adventure stories. I have to be careful, because my tendency toward verbosity starts to creep in, but I’m making clear headway on Hidden Mythics II and still writing the adventures. I’ll call it a win.

Anyway, welcome back for  a new adventure! Let’s get started.

Night Creature

It’s always cold while standing watch but on this particular night the wind’s blowing snow sideways over the city wall and the tiny white pellets sting your face until you’re sure you have welts.

Two more hours, you tell yourself in an attempt to encourage your frozen mind that you’re going to be okay. You’re not convincing the internal voice that keeps saying you’re going to find frostbite on your cheeks, however.

Just as you’re wondering who could see anything in the swirling, blinding mess, a shape slides over the parapet to your right.

It’s only because of the figure’s motion that you see it. Against the shifting snow, the body creates a solid background when there wasn’t one before.

“Hey,” you shout, drawing your bow. “Stop right there.”

The figure freezes and you almost think you see fur blowing in the wind, and then it takes off running the other way.

“Darn it!” you release the tension on your bow and give chase, not wanting to hit a fellow guard by accident in the blizzard.

You reach the next guard without finding the figure.

“You’re away from your station,” Garner scolds.

“Someone slipped over the wall,” you say.

Garner mutters something dark under his breath and then instructs you to get back to your post, he’ll deal with it.

Your steps crunch in the snow as you return. Suddenly, the crunching stops and you look down. The stone beneath your feet is decidedly free of ice and snow. As you look around, you see the area spans about a three foot section before the ice starts up again.

You glance over the parapet again and find there’s a trail of frost free stone leading from the ground all the way up over the wall to where you stand. Turning to face inward to the keep, you follow the trail and peek down the inside of the wall.

Your muscles freeze as you find a set of large blue eyes staring up at you. The creature clings to the stone with gecko-like hands but it’s shivering, making the fur on its coat shudder. Beneath the coat, the creature looks like a salamander, except human sized.

You’ve heard of the creatures around the keep, not all of them are friendly, but you’ve never heard of a lizard this size.

“Co-co-cold,” it whimpers.

Do you…

Call for Garner?

Or

Help the Creature off the Wall?

Thanks for joining in the adventure this week! Leave your vote in the comments below and we’ll return next Thursday to continue.

Until then, blessings,

Jennifer

(If you enjoy these adventures, check out my newest adventure book, Discarded Dragons!)

Natural Halloween Decorations

I’ve never been a big decorator for Halloween. Of course, I’ve never been a big decorator period. I love Christmas lights. Especially the blue and white ones. There’s something special that happens in my brain when I see a room lit up with blue and white Christmas lights like I’m a child again and could gaze at the “pretties” all evening.

Anyway, my husband and I even struggle coming up with costumes for Halloween, so decorating’s just not a thing for us. Needless to say, when we moved to South Carolina and found out that they literally truck in kids to our subdivision, we were a little surprised. And people around here take the decorations seriously. There are a couple houses that start an entire month ahead of time and by the time the night rolls around, they’ve got everything from 30ft skeletons to spiders spanning their yards.

It’s almost enough to make me think about putting out a pumpkin or two. Almost. And then I paid closer attention as fall descended this year.

The other thing South Carolina seems to do on a grand scale is bugs…and arachnids. Now I’m not a fan of the eight legged crawlies, but they make some amazing webs around here. As fall set in, these Orchard orb spiders started showing up in-mass, building these webs that trail over the bushes, from the trees to the ground, and even from the edges of the house to the ground. The spiders themselves aren’t dangerous. Their venom’s too mild to hurt a human, so we leave them and let them eat the other crazy bugs around here.

With these little guy’s help, I’ve decided we’ve already decorated for Halloween, our decorations are just a little more realistic than some. Just watch out for the webs, they’re quite sticky.

How about you, are you a big decorator?

Blessings,

Jennifer

Stowaway – Admit Who You Are

Welcome back for the last post in the Stowaway adventure. Here are links to part one, two, and three if you’d like to read them. Or here’s a quick recap:

You stowed away on a pirate ship but a storm forces you out of your hiding spot and into a barrel of potatoes. When the cook starts chopping up vegetables for a stew, you realize you’re going to be found so you act like you’re a member of the crew.

The cook seems suspicious but tells you to help him chop carrots. You get to work.

While you’re chopping, the cook asks you a question that’s clearly trying to suss out if you’re legitimately crew or not. Reader’s voted to go ahead a tell him the truth despite him being a pirate.

Let’s see if he values honesty

Stowaway – Admit Who You Are

Your hands shake while you continue to peel the carrots. Like the cook, you’ve wedged yourself against the counter to keep from falling over as the ship rocks heavily toward one side and then the other. Salty water washes down the companionway, letting you know that the waves are flowing over the sides of the ship and it was indeed a good idea to move out of the bilge before it flooded.

The cook follows your eyes to the water now sloshing around the cabin sole.

“Would’ve been a terrible place to be right about now,” you say. “Not much space for a human and the sea water.”

Your palms grow sweaty waiting for him to respond. If he doesn’t value honesty, you’ll probably be over the side of the ship before you know it, and in this weather, you won’t survive long.

The cook’s chef knife slams down into the counter mere inches from your arm. You jump and hit your knee against the wooden cabinet.

Your eyes probably look as round as his potato slices when you look up at him. He points at the knife. “That’ll make chopping the carrots into slices easier. Just don’t take a hand off, eh?” he raises a brow.

Missive received, you think.

“Eh,” you agree aloud, pulling the knife out of the counter with no small amount of effort.

“When y’r done there, grab some sage from the drying rack in storage.”

***

The captain eyes you later when he comes below deck. He’s drenched and clearly tired, heading toward his cabin for something, but he actually stops to stare at you. At this point the cook has you slicing onions and tears run down your face. You keep chopping and duck your head to avoid his dark gaze.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Found meself some help,” the cook replies. “Might belong in the bilge but I’s think I can make somethin’ of the whelp.”

The captain snorts and walks away.

“Don’t y’ prove me wrong,” the cook points his finger at you before turning back to his pot of stew. He doesn’t see your nod but you give it anyway.

I wanted work, you think, guess I found it.

The End

Thank you for participating in this adventure! I hope you have a wonderful week and we’ll see you next Thursday, hopefully, for a brand new adventure.

Blessings,

Jennifer

(If you enjoy these adventures, check out my newest adventure book, Discarded Dragons!)

Tidal Rivers – Who Knew?!

Last week I talked about the tides. My brain’s still on that.

As I said last week, I grew up in Colorado. There’s the Continental Divide in Colorado where, on one side the rivers flow one way and on the other they flow the other way. Other than that, the rivers are predictable. You put in a kayak on the Gunnison River north of Gunnison, and you’ll float past the town and can pull out at Hartman Rocks just south of the town.

This is predictable. It doesn’t matter what day, time of day, or moon cycle it is. The river flows one way.

Then we moved close to the coast and a friend of my husband’s asked him to kayak part of the Potomac with him. Enter the concept of a tidal river. Say what?!

For those of you who might not be familiar like I wasn’t, tidal rivers are just that, they’re effected by the tides. On that kayak trip I just mentioned, my husband and his friend timed their days around when the tide would be going out, so as they traveled toward the coast, they weren’t paddling against the flow of the river.

They miscalculated one morning. They got up at 3am, I think, and tried to time a crossing of the river so the tide would help them. In the dark, they didn’t realize the tide hadn’t turned yet. They paddled close to 45 minutes before realizing they weren’t making any progress. When they stopped paddling, the river spit them back toward shore and they found they were at the exact same part of the river as they’d started.

As I learned later from sailing, there’s a delay from when the tide turns at the coast to when it’ll turn upriver. The farther upriver, the later this delay. They miscalculated this, was all, and when they put back in to attempt their crossing again, they made it across without a hitch.

When sailing, you have to keep this in mind also. I talked last week about the boat turning with the tide while at anchor. Usually, you want to anchor in a protected area and rivers are great for this, but keep in mind the tide because, depending on your anchor style, the boat’s going to move on you.

This is a crazy, fascinating world we live in. Every time I learn something new, I’m amazed by how it works!

Blessings,

Jennifer

Stowaway – Get Carrots

Welcome back for the third post in the Stowaway adventure. Here are links to part one and two if you’d like to read them. Or here’s a quick recap:

You stowed away on a pirate ship but a storm forces you out of your hiding spot and into a barrel of potatoes. When the cook starts chopping up vegetables for a stew, you realize you’re going to be found so you act like you’re a member of the crew.

The cook seems suspicious but tells you to help him chop carrots. Readers voted to do as asked instead of insisting you’re needed topside.

Let’s see what happens next

Stowaway – Get Carrots

The crew shouts topside, but over the claps of thunder and the creaking of the ship as it rolls, it’s hard to understand them as you grab a handful of carrots and waddle your way to the galley counter. The cook watches until you get there and securely place the vegetables into a bowl that’s weighted in the bottom by a couple of heavy rocks.

“Can’t have y’ throwing carrots too,” he mutters as he retrieves a few potatoes out of the barrel and replaces the lid you pitched on the floor.

A chill races down your spine. Was he talking about the “rat” or did he know you’d thrown a potato?

You act like you didn’t hear and start peeling carrots with a small paring knife.

The cook picks up his chef’s knife and goes back to his own chopping, his motions making a steady thunk, thunk, thunk against the wooden counter.

“Capt’n, he’s a smart chap,” continues the cook. “Asks every person a question when he’s finding new crew. I’s told him for my answer that a ship’s me family. Who cares beyond that? What’d you say?”

A knot forms in your throat. Although you know the captain brought on new crew at the last port, you weren’t close enough to hear him speak to everyone. What kind of question would a pirate captain ask his crew?

Thunk, thunk, thunk continues behind you.

A quick glance at the cook shows he’s eyeing you from where he’s wedged himself against the wall and counter. Quick slices of potato appear while he works. He slides the slices into a heavy pot with the back of his knife and moves on to the next potato as he waits.

Make up an Answer?

Or

Admit who you are?

Thanks for stopping by this week! Leave your vote in the comments below and we’ll return next week for the conclusion to this adventure.

Blessings,

Jennifer

Tides

I’m still on the sailing thing. There’s so much I learned that my brain wanted to explode during the class and I’m slowly mulling it over now as I have more time.

As many of you know, I grew up in Colorado, a land locked state. There are reservoirs, of course, and I sailed a tiny bit when I was young because my parent’s boss owned a sail boat. But the water there had fewer aspects to keep in mind while handling the boat and I never realized it.

For instance, tides. On a lake, you don’t have to worry about tides quite like you do on the ocean or a waterway connected to the ocean.

We learned sailing in the Charleston Bay, where there can be a 6-7ft—or more—rise and fall in the water level. When you have a boat with a 5.5 foot hull below the water, that 6-7ft is a huge factor. You don’t want to anchor for a night only to find the tide went out and you’re now sitting on sand.

Or, when you anchor out, the boat will swing in a circle around the anchor as the tide goes out and then comes back in. (Depending on your anchor style). You see, to actually hold the boat, you play out a 5:1 or 7:1 length of chain or rope respectively. (The 1 you’re calculating with is a combination of the boat’s freeboard—how much hull you have above the water—and the depth from the waterline down to the bottom.) So, if you have 20ft between the freeboard and water depth, you’re looking at playing out over 100ft of chain. That’s a lot of swing. If you’re too close to the shore or too close to shallow water, again, you’ll find yourself on sand instead of floating.

It’s crazy but cool in my brain. Sailing is a whole ‘nother world to me! And it’s kind of cool to go to sleep facing upriver and then wake up and realize you’re now facing downriver.

Anyways, thanks for listening to my ramblings while my brain processes stuff.

Blessings,

Jennifer