Anita Birt's Note Cook

I m stuck trying to find the right title for this blog when I change the name.

"It's about being old..."  A friend suggested "Aging Achers," but I'm afraid that will not work. How about "Aging Acres," indicating where we live?

I'd like to say, "It's about being old stupid," but that's rude

To revert to this day. We've had wild winds blowing in from the east with the waves on the sea rocking and rolling in deep, deep troughs. About five o'clock rain lashed against my window (I face the sea) The wind had shifted to the west and came roaring in. I did not venture outside the door to-day.

Life is peaceful. It's Martin's birthday to-day. Martin is my best beloved son. He hopes to come out to see me in early December. I am not flying to Toronto for Christmas! Snow might fall and wreck travel arrangements. And the airports are too much for me to cope with this time of year.

I have a lot of material to go into the new blog so my thoughts are drifting in that direction. I shall let you know when I change the title of the blog so you can find me - if you so desire.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com

Anita Birt's Note Book

November 19 and I am still struggling to find a name for my new blog. As you recall it's about getting old, really old, and hanging in there.

But before I go on, my five books, A Very Difficult Man, Isabelle's Diary, Isabelle's Story, Ring Around the Moo and Too Young To Die are selling for .99 cents a copy! You can't beat that for price so head to Amazon.com or Ellora's Cave Publishing and buy my books. Download them to your e-reader and enjoy five good reads.

My new blog is about being eighty and what to do to keep life interesting and challenging. Any bright ideas you have for a title is appreciated. What do you think about: "Being eighty - And then what?" I can't use "Over the hill gang," it's used by organizations all over the world.

The world here on the west coast of Canada is getting cold. No Anna's humming birds to be seen. They are usually here for the winter (don't ask when they could stay in California) I'm wondering if condo dwellers with balconies have stopped feeding them. I shall buy a feeder and lure them to my balcony. I did see a Bewick's wren this morning  hopping along a low fence searching for little spiders and other tasty treats.

How are your brain cells? Are you keeping them alive and well by exercising and eating a healthy diet?

My frog collection is on display in the lobby of this building. They make people smile because they are rather silly.

I hope all is well where you are and you are enjoying life.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com

Anita Birt's Note Book

I am going slightly balmy trying to create a new blog.There must be a secret password or some other tricky business of which I know nothing. According to the Google information it's easy. Takes four minutes! Whatever software they use refuses the title I want to use or they ask for information I don't have. Sigh.

We have  had a wild storm on the Strait to-day. Great heaving seas with white caps tipping the waves. Unbelievable. I didn't venture out in case I'd be blown off my feet and tossed into the sea. As evening closed in the sea calmed and all is quiet.

We, who are over eight years old, are aghast at the poor grammar we run across daily - I think I ranted about this on my last post so I shall cease and desist. And the misuse of few and less. Or who and whom.

Shall I step into a minefield and comment about the Occupiers? They sit on their bums or open their laptops and moan about the state of our country - Canada in my case. I think of Steve Jobs and what he accomplished during his short life. He didn't sit under a tent he shoved up his sleeves and changed the way we use technology to connect with family friends, companies, etc. How the Occupiers expect to change the federal system under which we live by sitting under tents baffles me. And that is all I have to say on that subject. Send them all home.

I am old and cannot keep up with the changes going on around me. It's all fascinating. I'm tempted to buy an iPhone just for the helluva it. I don't need one and may torment my brain trying to work out all the features.

I wish my creative writing brain would return and stimulate me into writing stories. Not romance, as in the past, write about living through the good and the difficult times and how to enjoy life. Create a character who lives as well as she can and dearly likes to interfere in other people's lives. What fun. I shall tuck the idea in my head and let it sit awhile.

Keep buying my books through Amazon.com or my publisher, Ellora's Cave.
www.anitabirt.com

Send a comment. I know you are out there lurking in the shadows.

Anita

Anita Bit's Note Book

This will be short and sweet. I shall be starting a new blog, "The Over The Hill Gang." To post on the blog you have to be eighty years old and older. We will make one or two exceptions and allow enthusiastic seventy years old men and women to post on the blog.

The blog will have a rant component to allow frustrated bloggers to air their grievances about bad grammar and the like. All of us attended schools where grammar was hammered into our heads, penmanship made us write legibly, and English Composition taught how to write coherent paragraphs with accurate punctuation.

Move over to the new blog when I figure out how to set it up.  In the meantime, check my web site www.anitabirt.com for lists of my books and see if one or more of them tickle your fancy.

Anita Birt

Anita Birt's Note book

I shall be starting a new blog within a few days after I gather specific material. Tentative title: Join the company of The Over The Hill Gang. A group of women, all over eighty who have decided to raise their voices, so to speak, regarding the appalling grammar featured in the daily press, magazines or heard on television or radio.

Or ill manners. We can rant with the best of them and enjoy ourselves doing it. I am the blogger. My partners in this venture are Ruth, Win and Jean but anyone over eighty, male or female may add their voices by leaving comments.

Do drop in when I get this new venture started. I shall announce it on this blog.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com
Have a look at my books listed on my web site. Cozy up to them and enjoy a good read.

Anita Birt's Notebook

I never quit, do I?  No comments on my blog yet I persist on blogging. It's like an illness or a compulsion, something interesting to fill an hour or two a day. I'm not doing creative writing but my fingers itch to tap away on the keyboard. So.....To entertain myself and, hopefully, find buyers for my books I shall post the first few pages of my book, TOO YOUNG TO DIE. I own the Copyright to all my books, including Too Young To Die.

CHAPTER ONE

"Keep singing, lady."

The armed man sitting across from Ellie in the nursery casually pointed his assault rifle at her. She cuddled the whimpering baby and tried, unsuccesfully, to stay cool and remember the words of the old nursery rhyme.
 "Rock-a-Bye baby on the ..." Her voice cracked on the first line.
 "Sing," he demanded.

"Can't sing. Can't breathe. Throat's too dry. Can I get a drink of water from the bathroom?'
 He shambled to his fee. "Don't move. I don't hurt ladies and babies."
"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Ellie shifted Nicki from one arm to the other and gulped air into her oxygen-deprived lungs.

"Don't give me that crap, you're up to your next in this same as the rest." He slung the weapon under his arm. "Sing to the kid while I get you a drink."
"I can't."
"Do it and keep the kid quiet." He lowered his brows. His eyes sank into the folds of scar tissue. "Sing about the mocking bird. You sang it before."
Ellie cleared her tense throat. "Hush little baby, don't say a word...that one?"
He nodded and propped his beefy shoulder against the door. "My old lady used to sing it to my little sister."
The gorilla had a human mother. Hard to believe he hadn't come fully formed from the lab of a mad scientist.
"Please get me some water. I'll sing it and a couple more."
If she escaped from the house alive, she'd never answer another advertisement for a nanny. Magda and Stefan Blesnicoff had seemed such a nice couple. They'd sent their chauffeur to drive her from Seattle to their estate in the Cascades. She'd been with them a week and tonight she might die, blown away in a hail of bullets.
She choked back a sob. She was too young to die. So was Nicki. He squirmed and screwed up his face. "It's all right, Sweetie." She found back her panic. Stay calm. Stick to a routine. She held him against her shoulder and patted his back. "
"You're hungry aren't you?"
"You'd better feed him I won't look."
"Why?"
A sheepish grin spread across his beat-up face. "It's not respectful to watch a lady feeding her baby. That's private."
A light dawned inside Ellie's terror-stricken brain. "He isn't my baby. I'm his nanny. You'll have to get his bottle from the fridge and warm it."

That's all for today. If you want more, leave a comment - or buy the book. It's a page turner with guns, bad guys and Ellie escaping into the woods with the baby in the middle of the night. There's a hero, of course.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com

Anita Birt's Diary

Help! Someone has stolen access to my blog. I can't get in to write some of my deathless prose. I have a glass of sherry at my elbow to soothe  my shattered nerves. Who controls the blogs? I am bewildered and that reminds me. I was dining with friends two nights ago and we started talking about words that being with "be". i.e. bedraggled ( the way I look when I fall out of bed in the morning) Bewildered. Bereft. Begone. Beware. Bewitched. Bespoke (a favourite of mine)

There are lots more. Add a few more when you comment on my blog. Remember to buy my books for your e-reader, Find then at my web site; www.anitabirt.com. I am begone until next time..
Anita

Anita Birt's Diary