Sister Mary is coming!! Be here Saturday.

Here is sister Mary riding the three wheeler at sister Donna's house.  I think she was having a pretty good time in this picture!

Sister Mary has not been here for a couple years.  Well, maybe a year and a half and since I can not seem to make it back home I just have not seen her.  I was very happy when Larry called the other day and announced that they were in Denver and would be here on Saturday. 
Of course I had to rearrange a few prior commitments, but so goes it.  And the Pride parade is Sunday morning so they can either go with me, or wait here.  That is a have to be there thing!
Short one this morning cause I have to get busy and spray brush killer on the new trees coming up around the foundation of the house in town.  Now normally, any kind of "-scide" is a no-no, but we are dealing with those damn stink trees that will completely raise a house up off its foundation if left to thier own devices.  I ripped out a truck load and brought them home to burn, but there the roots are sprouting.  So.
And back to sister Mary.  I tried to call sister Donna, but no answer and no return call.  Maybe they are on vacation.  I wish Larry would leave Mary with me for a few and we could go to Beulah and just look around.  Or we could just veg here at home. 
Well, sorry this is short, but I have to go do my dirty work.  I will report in on Monday and let you know how the visit went.  Till then, as my friend in New York told me, "Keep your powder dry."  Seems like a strange farewell message, but nonetheless, apropos!

;">********************For Sale by owner*****************

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Ah, the dreaded one month anniversary.

July 13.  Friday the 13th.  I think Sherman picked that day because of his wry sense of humor.  But he was right, you know.  May have been a lucky day for him, but a very unlucky one for those of us left behind to cope with the loss.Those are lilacs on his hat.  I do not remember what we were discussing when I took this picture.  I am pretty sure it was while Jeff was here.  And I am pretty sure the Lilacs were in bloom.  And that is about all I am sure of at this point.  Oh, that and the fact that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
I remember way far back when I was a kid, life was so simple.  There was no concept of what was to come.  I guess my first real taste of death was when my sister gave birth to a still born son.  The funeral was held in her front room with the tiny casket placed on the television after being carried in by the man who ran the funeral home, Jack Lamb.  I still remember the tiny face and the tiny pink hand holding the blue blanket closed.  Baby Boy Burch.  And the saddest part of the whole thing was that was just the beginning.
A friend from school and his brother in a fiery crash, aunts, uncles, in laws, out laws, brother, sister, cousins, husbands and ex husbands, friends and acquaintances, grandma's and grandpa's, clients, and the list goes on until I reach the point where I am now the Matriarch of the family and my friends are all younger than me.  No death is easy for me.  Each one touches a place deep in my soul that shall always remain raw and tender.
But I do now recognize the stages of grief; the denial, the anger, depression and finally acceptance.  I am still dealing with the first three and am sure I will finally get to number four.  And I know that there are anniversaries in life that we may not remember, but when I find myself sad for no good reason, I stop and think.  It usually comes to me.  "Oh, this is the day Mark died."  "This is the day my divorce was granted."  The happy anniversaries seem to roll by unnoticed, but the sad ones have a way of pushing to the front and calling "Pick me!  Pick me!"
And so it is today that I remember Sherman.  And to do that I must live in the past.  Just for a while anyway.  The Lilac's are gone and the hat lives in St. Louis.  And Sherman...well, in a perfect world...

www.loumercer3.com

Oh, we are the battleground state aren't we?

Ok, I went to town early this morning to take the dog to the beauty shop.  I knew President Obama was in town and expected lots of traffic.  As it turned out traffic was light, but my route had to be altered slightly since all around the Marriot was barricaded.  So I dropped her off at 7:30 and came home.  He called at 9:30 and said she was ready.  Great!  I knew he would be at the Ag building at 10:45 so I thought I was home free. 
As I passed Romero's I happened to notice several men in dark suits talking up their sleeve.  Ah ha!  I knew where he was going to eat breakfast.  I was confident that I would be able to grab the dog and get home before traffic got clogged up.  Now bear in mind that the city end of Santa Fe was securely blockaded causing me to go up Grand to Main, over to Union, then to fourth and out Fourth to the groomer. 
Now you need to know one thing here.  There are 3 ways to get to the Mesa.  The first way is East on Santa Fe Drive.  The second is out Fourth, down Stockyards, under the Bridge, through Salt Creek and via Aspen and then East on South Road.  That is inconvenient, but not as far as out Fourth to 50 Highway to Baxter Road, across to business highway 50 and back West to Blende and then South to South Road and then to my house.  The first is direct and the one everyone uses.  The second is rather tricky and not much fun and the third is about 20 miles out of my way.
So I grabbed the dog and started out Santa Fe.  Road closed.  No signs, no nothing just a giant traffic backup.  After 20 minutes of this grid lock, I made a u-turn and headed back to town.  I grabbed the Interstate (since that end of Santa Fe was blockaded) and got off on First Street.  Then to fourth, out Joplin, under the bridge, East on Roselawn, through Salt Creek since I needed eggs, to the Mexican store, who did not have eggs and then home.
Now you should know I am a devoted Obama fan.  Love the man and did not go to the rally cause I wanted to leave my ticket for someone who might need swayed.  I would dearly love to see him up close and personal, but me and crowds just aren't a happening thing.
So now that the frustration of fighting the police at every turn is behind me and I am safe in my little home once more, I have a few things I want to say to President Obama.  I hope he reads this because I mean it all in a very nice way.
"Mr. President, I am so happy that you were able to spend a night and day in our fair city.  I know you like Mexican Food and I am in complete agreement with you there, but next time, could you just have those guys run out and pick it up for you?  It would make my life a lot easier.  See there is only one road onto the Mesa and it makes it really hard on us who have to go there.  Or maybe you could eat a little faster? 
Any way, you have my vote, whatever and where ever you eat, I am in it for the long haul.  Oh, and give my regards to Michelle."
There, that being said I am off to watch the news.  I just love it when he waves at me and flashes his pearly whites my way.

Sherman Schroeder Memorial at South Side Johnny's.

Today was a wonderful day.  This morning I toodled off to Colorado Springs to attend the British Motorcycle Association of Colorado meeting.  Remember I told you that Sherman and two other guys started this back in 1983?  Today they paid homage to thier fallen leader.  First there was a memorial DVD put together by his nephew, Brent Schroeder of Boulder.  That was so very touching.

I took a photo album and the big picture that Carmen had put together for the farewell party.  she gave it to me so it is mine now.  (Thank you so much, new friend Carmen.)  In the photo album is a picture of Sherman in front of a cop car.  Validation for Dana when he said Sherman was the only member of the club to ever get a speeding ticket.  Seems Sherman liked to ding around at the back of the rides and watch the birds, squirrels, and clouds.  They would come to a pullout and wait for him to catch up, but this one time he was really late and they thought they should go look for him when he showed up with ticket in hand because he was hurrying to catch up.  Bad Sherman!!

Then Dana, Jerry and Todd had kind words to say.  I know bikers are supposed to be big and hairy and all that, but these guys apparently haven't recieved the memo yet as they were not all dry eyed.  And there were ladies there also.  I drank tea and it was paid for by a nice guy named Gary who sat at our table.  Wasn't that sweet?

See that bike?  (First I want to say my batteries were like blink city and I know better, but I forged ahead so I could show you these blurry pictures.)  Any way this thing was rescued from a shed and cleaned up, tuned up, fiddled with, sanded, painted, turboed, and God only knows what else and god only knows who all had thier hands inside her, but she is off to Bonneville Salt Flats and hopes to set a new speed record there.  John Stoner is the proud owner and the one who will be holding the handle bars when it shoots past the gun.  The whole club is so excited!  That is going to happen August 8-17 and I will keep you posted cause I am sure Dana and Jerry will keep me in the loop.  (?)

(Note to Amy...I wore the biker bitch sleeveless shirt you brought me from Daytona Beach.  I fit right in!  You would have been so proud!)

After Todd filled everyone in on all the happenings they left for a ride somewhere.  So rather than set there in the bar by myself I took my leave and went to see Pastor Faye.  We went to lunch at Country Buffet and she was telling me about the time she performed a marriage ceremony at the Sturgis Rally in South (?) Dakota and how upset the hierarchy got with her because she turned up on the national news.  Man I love that woman!

So I had a long day and now Kenna Rae, my step daughter is making me supper at her house.  Guess I will make it even longer.  I just want to thank the BMAC from the bottom of my heart for making me a part of their group for the day.  Bet Sherman saw that and smiled. 

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Chapter One...Loose Ends by Lou Mercer can be bought here with the little paypal button.

Lordy! This is a giant bee hive!

Here is the house and what you need to know is that there are bees there!  Well, not exactly in the house but out back.  I needed to clean the yard, so Bret had the brush hog and I went to pick up an old stool and stirred up a nest full under there.  Then he moved a set of saw horses into the garage and another nest full of them.  Well, then we decided we ought to go eat and let them settle down.  As Mark was locking the door one came all the way around the house and stung him on the foot.

Poor Mark!  All he had done while we were stirring them up was to set in the garage and do an inventory sheet.  He had not even stuck his little nose out the door.  I felt really bad about that! 

I expect this home will be listed for sale soon.  Course we have to make it presentable.  You saw the slide show of this and know it is three stories and a basement.  And I just love the interior of this thing.  Something about a Victorian.  If I  were not so firmly ensconced out here on the mesa I would be moving in here myself.  True it needs lots of work, but this would make an absolutely beautiful home.

 This is in a very quiet neighborhood.  The kayak course is right down the hill.  Shopping within walking distance.  Oh, yeah, and Starbucks nearby.  Call for details.

Chapter One...Loose Ends

Available here online.

Colorado Avenue Antiques, Pueblo, Colorado

Wandered into the old Ambrosia Health Food building the other day and there was my little friends Ron Lombardi and Eric Gibson.  Seems they have bought the building which is 3 floors and done a ton of renovations.  The top floor is an apartment and since it is rented to an individual I could not see it, but I did see before and after pictures and it is fabulous.

The main level and the second level are full of antiques as you can see in the slide show.  The top level is thier antiques and the main level is leased to other people.  They are currently working on the Christmas room which features a silver pompom tree.  But don't tell them I ratted them off.

And across the street looking out the second floor is Netties Candies which I might like to visit.  If you notice the doors have many locks.  That is because it used to be a marijuana distributor.  But now it is an antique place and I love it. 

Colorado Ave. Antiques

112 Colorado Ave.

Pueblo, CO 81004

719-225-8293

Monday -Saturday 10-5

Sunday 12-4

Wonderful way to while away some time and remember the good old days.

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To buy my novel click on the buy now button and you will receive an invoice.

Libby and Jeff, look at this.

This is a slide show I took and it is completely backwards.  But you get the idea if you watch me .  There is the house, then we go inside and up the stairs to the second floor and then the dreaded third floor.  See I have it nice and cleaned out.  Bret was fascinated with the register that lets warm air come from the bottom floor all the way up.  If we fell through the register we would land by the front door.
You can get a good shot of the guano from the bats, but then see the room is so neat.  You could live up there on the third floor and then just open the book case and over you go to the secret room.  I just love this old house.