Stephen Mark Rainey's Blog, page 28

The Turkey Trots!

I swear, I dunno what's going on. Since Brugger and I have (mostly) gotten ourselves moved into Pleasant Hill in Martinsville, this well-stuffed Thanksgiving turkey keeps appearing in random places. It apparently belonged to my mom, although I have no recollection of her ever putting it out for Thanksgiving (or Yog forbid any other time; it is so inconsistent with her typical decorating style). But in recent days, yon turkey has appeared on shelves, at computers, in bedrooms, on the john... all kinds of random places. Brugger denies all knowledge of this affair, but I somehow suspect she might be behind it all.

If all goes as expected, we'll have the Greensboro house on the market in the next couple of weeks. As it is, we're now pretty well ensconced in the house where I grew up in Martinsville. Mom called the place Pleasant Hill, and it's a nice enough name, sure, but Brugger and I are thinking something not quite so pleasant might be more apt for us. I'm thinking Ground Zero, as it's apt for both geocaching and blowing up shit.

Ferrum First-to-Finds, The Kraken Strikes, and Pursued by Ducks

There certainly hasn't been much geocaching in my regular routine for quite a while now, due to being consumed by both the move to Martinsville and copy editing my upcoming Deathrealm: Spirits anthology. Brugger and I have been upgrading the Greensboro house to sell and the Martinsville house to move in, the latter of which is at least very close to being habitable full-time (the former increasingly less so). I moved my two cats here a couple of days ago, and Brugger is bringing her three today. Frazier and Droolie have settled right in; whether Ralph, Rufus, and Moose will be as mellow remains to be seen.

Right about bedtime last night, a couple of new geocaches published at Ferrum College (one of my old alma maters), about 25 miles up the road from Martinsville. So, at dawn's first light, I hopped (or perhaps hobbled is a better term) out of bed, grabbed coffee, and hit the road. There's now a lovely nature trail through the woods near the campus; back in my time there, the only trails were deer paths and meandering ruts through the forest left by drunken or otherwise impaired college students (I might or might not have been among them). There was one standalone traditional cache, and two new Adventure Lab caches, which provided the necessary info to locate a bonus physical cache. So, I managed to secure the coveted first-to-find honors on the lot of them. It was nice to be out in the woods alone on a beautiful if rather muggy morning.

After caching, I wandered the campus a bit. There's a sculpture, which I assume to be quite new, in Adams Lake: a canoe being dragged down by what is presumably a kraken tentacle. Wonderfully whimsical, I must say. A massive crowd of ducks were gathered on the banks near the kraken, and when they saw me coming, they all converged, no doubt hoping I had duck goodies to share. Unfortunately for them, I did not. Still, they were generally polite and a pleasure to spend time with.

And now... back to the restoration work! A lovely but muggy morning in the woods
The Kraken strikes!
Pursued by ducks!

R.I.P. Rob "Robgso" Isenhour

After being diagnosed with lung cancer only a few short weeks ago, my good friend and regular geocaching companion, Rob "Robgso" Isenhour, passed away just before dawn this morning.

Rob and I literally have spent almost every Sunday geocaching together since sometime in 2011 (and on occasions for at least a couple of years before that). In geocaching circles, he and I became known as the "Old Farts" even when neither of us were all that old. For that reason, I always referred to him as "Old Rob" in my geocaching logs and whenever I've written about him on this blog. He had nine years on me, but until recent days, I always figured that if I were doing as physically well as he when I reached his age, I'd be doing damned well indeed. Even prior to our acquaintance, the locals called him the original "Trail Dawg." The man did love trail hiking — and especially trail geocaching. For all the years that we cached together, we certainly went after plenty of park & grabs and other such urban hides, but his true love was getting out there in the woods.

Once Rob retired — not all that many years ago, it seems — he became one of those devoted "first-to-find" hounds. Whenever a new geocache published in our area, there was a better than average chance that he'd be the one to head right out to it and grab the first-to-find honors (however dubious said honors might actually be).

For our regular Sunday outings, Rob and I, along with several other cachers, such as Cupdaisy (a.k.a. Debbie), Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Fishdownthestairs (a.k.a. Natalie), and RNLee (a.k.a. Robbin), adopted the semi-official title Team No Dead Weight, or — in my book — "The No-Dead-Weight Irreglars" (since, if there ever were a bunch of irregulars, that would be us). Sometimes, if it were just Rob and I on the hunt, we'd dub ourselves "Two Old Farts" (or "three" if Diefenbaker joined us). Rob and I frequently tried to convince friends Natalie and Debbie to join in the glory of Team Old Fart ("C'mon, y'all qualify!") but they'd have none of it. So sad for them!

I am reminded that Rob was on occasion also known as "Bloody Rob." This was because Rob was an expert at injuring himself while out in the woods, and he bled profusely. He had no fear of brier patches, I can tell you! His motto was "No blood, no fun," so you knew if he was covered in red stuff, he was a having a good old time.

When it came to hiding caches, Rob was a master of meanness. He created a considerable number of brilliant woodland camouflage containers, oftentimes hiding them in, ahem, briers... so that you, too, as a cache hunter, could shed some red. And you could just hear him laughing about it.

Rob with Bentley, his favorite trail dawg
I suspect Rob was the dog person to end all dog persons. He's owned apassel of them over the years (and is survived by two). Whenever we were outhiking and encountered someone walking their dog(s), we'd have to stop so Robcould pet some heads. Oftentimes we'd have to wait on Rob for quite a spellbecause he sure wasn't gonna miss out on petting dog heads. And while he mightnot have been as much a cat person, he sure loved our guys, particularly Chester(may he rest in peace) and Frazier. Back when Chester was alive, every Sundaymorning, Rob would bring Egg McMuffins over so that Chester could eat the cheeseout of them (Chester loved him some cheese). On occasion, when Brugger and Iwent out of town, Rob would come by the house to feed and pet the cats, and theysure did love him for it.

On occasion, despite being a Trail Dawg,Rob would get confused, direction-wise. We always figured it was best not to letRob navigate because we never knew where he might lead us (when he did, it wasnever good). He blamed this on a series of concussions he suffered in his youth.So, these days, whenever I steer myself (or anyone else) wrong, I blame it onRob's concussions. It seems only proper.

A while back — just a fewmonths, really — it was clear that things weren't quite right with Rob,physically. He had stents put in his heart several weeks ago, and at first, itseemed like that started him back on a positive path. But then things took anunexpected turnabout, and the next thing we know, Rob has lung cancer and verylittle time remaining. The speed with which it claimed him still staggers all ofus who knew and loved him.

I know that Rob's wife, Dianna, and therest of his family will go through a tough time, but I do pray they will findcomfort in Rob's memories. It's clear that he possessed plenty of love and basicwonderfulness to go around.

I suspect that Old Rob is out theresomewhere, blazing a new trail. I hope there are nice geocaches out that way,and when the rest of us follow him, he will send us their coordinates, or atleast some useful hints.

Godspeed, my old friend.

The last photo I have of Rob with the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars, March 21, 2023.
Old Rob and Diefenbaker hanging out with some noisy folk
No sweat, Rob.
Rob's typical exuberant arrival on site after trailing behind the rest of us for a while
(no doubt this was due to the concussions).
Serious geocachers. Old Rodan, Old Diefenbaker, Old Rob, Not-so-Old Fishdownthestairs

A Little Deathrealm Update

It's been a hectic week of little else but working on either the housewe're moving into or the house we're moving out of. Slow but very steadyprogress, at least.

The "else" has been copy-editing Deathrealm: Spirits. Also slow but steady progress. The final contents have been compiled, all authors contracted and paid, and it won't be long before this monster goes into production. It's coming from Shortwave Publishing in October 2023.

The table of contents will include Brian Keene, Joe R. Lansdale, Eric LaRocca, and many more. Future updates will drop additional names onto the list, for a total of twenty. This is going to be a good-sized, kick-ass anthology, I'm here to tell you. The cover reveal isn't too far off either, so please stay tuned.

Until later.

A Little Update

It's been a hectic week of little else but working on either the housewe're moving into or the house we're moving out of. Slow but very steadyprogress, at least.

The "else" has been copy-editing Deathrealm: Spirits. Also slow but steady progress. The final contents have been compiled, all authors contracted and paid, and it won't be long before this monster goes into production. It's coming from Shortwave Publishing in October 2023.

The table of contents will include Brian Keene, Joe R. Lansdale, Eric LaRocca, and many more. Future updates will drop additional names onto the list, for a total of twenty. This is going to be a good-sized, kick-ass anthology, I'm here to tell you. The cover reveal isn't too far off either, so please stay tuned.

Until later.

Back on the Geocaching Trail

Here you see Two Old Farts (Old Rodan, left, andOld Diefebnaker, right) wondering what the hell kind of curve balls lifehas been throwing at them. Our longtime third wheel, Old Rob, is facing aprofoundly critical time, and another of our best geocaching friends,Night-Hawk (a.k.a. Tom) is in a different but potentiallyequally serious place. All of us are struggling to come to grips with thesefacts in our own ways. All this comes amid the biggest life change Brugger and Ihave willfully undertaken since we decided to share space in each other’s livesgoing on fourteen years ago.

Change comes hard.
During the month of May, I made exactly four geocaching trips, two no more than quick jaunts, and this constitutes the least amount of caching in a month’s time since the genesis of my geocaching days back in 2008. For all these years, caching has been an ongoing and what I would call the most immersive and invigorating activity of my adult life. For both Old Rob and Night-Hawk, geocaching has been a defining aspect of their personalities.
Anyway, today, Scott and I ventured forth to the Cane Creek Mountains Natural Area  just south of Burlington. A new trail system has opened up (the Oak Hill Trails) adjacent to the original area (Pine Hill Trails). Eventually, the two will connect. Anyway, four new caches recently came out on the Oak Hill Trails, so Scott and I took it as our task to go out and hunt them. We did this thing, found two other newish caches in Burlington proper, and then did the Simply Thai lunch thing in Elon, as tradition demanded.
Ms. B. and I have plenty of tasks piled up to conquer, so this evening, we’re conquering them. Well parts of them. Big parts. Or at least medium-size parts.
Parts is parts. Lovely little picnic area in the foundation of an old cabin The Giant Claw A little dam and reservoir hiding in the woods near the trail View from below the dam

The Restoration/Updating Continues

View of the living room as Mom had it for many years
The restoration/updating of the old homestead hits another milestone — the removal of wallpaper, repainting of rooms, pulling of carpet, and refinishing of the original hardwood floors is finally complete. Not to mention all new plumbing (the old galvanized pipes were had reached the last of their death throes) and a new roof. We still have a ton of stuff to do before the final move, especially prepping the Greensboro house to go on the market, but from this end, there's something akin to light at the end of the tunnel.  I was all set to keep the work going at a strong pace, so I came up on Thursday to get a head start on the weekend. Then... boom... I get hit with a miserable stomach bug that is just now beginning to abate. No food other than a half bowl of soup and a piece of bread over the past three days. I'm feeling better, and I've been able to eat a little today, but I'm so weak, just going from one end of the house to the other about does me in. If I can keep getting a little nourishment into me, maybe tomorrow.
The walls painted (courtesy Standalone Kustoms), the carpet removed. The original hardwoods were deeply stained, but the refinishing (courtesy Macarena Hardwood Floors out of Madison, NC) worked wonders.

Before and after the floor refinishing, viewed from the opposite end of the living room.

The Canterbury Nightmares

Now Available for Pre-Order from Crossroad Press:
The Canterbury Nightmares... a new anthology of terror tales, all of which combine the essence of Chaucer���s pilgrims on their journey to a shrine with the apparent climax of the recent global COVID-19 pandemic. These stories were born in a time when personal connections were few, breathing the air in a grocery store felt unsafe, and the country all but dissolved into divided and seemingly irreparable factions.

The Canterbury Nightmares: Eleven travelers head out to visit The Grand Canyon, all motivated by their own powerful, personal reasons. All have suffered profound losses; all harbor secret but consuming agony. An old man taking a long-promised journey with his wife. A congregation that has lost its way. Individuals of different backgrounds and cultures, all dealing with grief, loss, and isolation. In The Canterbury Nightmares, you will be led not only to the soaring precipices of the Grand Canyon but also into deep, dark, unimaginable recesses.

This one features my story, ���The Secret Place: A Knight���s Tale,��� as well as ten more chilling works by some of today���s most compelling���and perhaps prophetic���storytellers. The book is due for release in September 2023.

Contents:
���The Old Man���s Tale��� ��� Steve Rasnic Tem
���The Liberation of Brother Buffalo��� ��� Michael Boatman
���Think of the Family��� ��� Ai Jiang
���To See Her in Sepia��� ��� Scott J. Moses
���The Preditor's Tale��� ��� Terence Taylor
���The Wife of Wrath���s Tale��� ��� John B. Rosenman
���The Secret Place: A Knight���s Tale��� ��� Stephen Mark Rainey
���The Sacred Clarion��� ��� S.A. Cosby
���The Tour Guide's Tale��� ��� Anna Tambour
���Every Form of Person��� ��� J.A.W. McCarthy
���Vending Machine Girl������ Eric LaRocca

Pre-Order The Canterbury Nightmares from Amazon.com here

Conquered Hurdles and a Frenzy of Wild Beasties

The estate sale that Ms. B. and I held this weekend is now done, and though westill have a passel of leftover stuff, we moved a decent quantity and made arespectable few bucks in the process. For me, it���s been a full week of both DIYhome restoration/upgrading and prepping for the sale ��� 12 to 15 hours a day���andin the words of our perpetually fatigued felines, I haz a tired.

Mycrowning achievement for all this, I believe, has been categorizing andorganizing ALL my old books, magazines, CDs, DVDs, and LPs and putting them onreasonably respectable display. This little chore been on the docket for yearsupon years, but I had pretty much reconciled myself to not living long enough tocomplete it. The books, as you might expect for a writer/avid reader, proved thebiggest challenge, simply because of their sheer number. A few years back, I haddownsized the book department to a considerable degree, but that was kind oflike emptying a few buckets of water from an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

Yesterday,after the estate sale,  Ms. B. and I provided pizza as well as a variety ofmunchies and adult beverages for friends Terry, Beth, Bob, Yvonne, and Samaire,plus my daughter Allison. The weather was decent, so we made it an outdoorparty, which may have prompted our neighbors to wonder whether a gaggle of wildbeasties had somehow taken over the property.

Happily, the sale ��� andsubsequent celebration ��� marked the successful conquering of several of our mostdaunting hurdles. There���s more to come, to be sure, but at this point, it feelslike we���re getting closer and closer to seeing the downhill run to the finishline... whatever the hell the finish line ends up being.

Laters! A feeding frenzy of wild beasties! Allison, Old Dude, Samaire, Beth, Terry, Bob, Yvonne

Back in the Shadows Again

I recently wrote on this blog that I’m getting too old for this shit,and I’m thinking I might swipe that line from Danny Glover on a more permanent basis.Whew! Brugger and I are well into getting the Martinsville house restored, although thereare still weeks and weeks’ worth of (expensive) work left ahead of us. Today,it’s the new roof. Concurrently, we’re trying to whip the Greensboro house intosaleable condition, which is also anything but a small (or inexpensive) job. Since all this restoration work began back in April, I’ve been going to bed each evening mostly satisfied with the progress we’re making, but so sore of muscle and bone that getting asolid night’s sleep is possible only occasionally.

Still, there’s so much cool stuff happening. It was nice to get some of my old books—all the James Bond novels (and certain associated titles), the Dark Shadows novels (and certain associated titles)—back into the old homestead where they and I grew up together. The Bond books, at least all the old Signet editions, are back on the same shelf in the den where I discovered them as a youngster, when they belonged to my dad. It was in that same den that I first started watching Dark Shadows on a regular basis (right at the start of the Leviathans storyline in 1969), so I’ve put all the Dark Shadows books together on the shelf below the Bond books. And, for shits & giggles, I’ve started rewatching the Dark Shadows Leviathans episodes on Freevee.
The other day, I dug up an envelope, which I feared had gone forever missing, of old love letters (as well as a few that expressed something distinctly other than love) from certain young ladies in my junior high and high school years. Marybeth, Gretchen, DeeDee, and Courtney... it’s so nice to read all those lovely sentiments again, haha.
We’re holding an estate sale this weekend, Saturday, 5/20 and Sunday, 5/21, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. each day. Here’s the Facebook listing for it: Estate Sale, 5/20–5/21. If you’re in the vicinity, stop on by. Some of the James Bond novels, the original Signet editions of which now re-reside on their original shelf
in my dad’s old den