​I wasn’t much of an artist back in grade school. I didn’t make any real attempt at that until I was a little older. I liked to doodle and make designs or other marks on the paper but as far as drawing something, anything, that anyone could view as art, that wasn’t happening. I didn’t have time for such things.
 
But that didn’t stop my teachers from insisting that I needed to at least TRY to draw. Of course, I resisted.
 
One day, the assignment was to draw a house—simple enough. But always ready and willing to be cantankerous, I decided to make things easy on myself and I drew a teepee. My drawing consisted of about five lines; that was it. I was fully prepared to argue that a teepee was indeed a house. She hadn’t specified what kind of house, after all. Still, I knew she wouldn’t be amused.
 
Thing is, about half of the students at the school I attended were Indians. And as I discovered, it wasn’t too difficult to convince a few of my classmates to join me in my stubborn sidestep of the assignment. They actually thought it was a great idea. Me, I just figured if I wasn’t alone, the teacher might not be so hard on me.
 
My theory must have worked because she didn’t really say anything; just gave me, and the rest of my brave cohorts, a disapproving look.
 
But, toward the end of the school year, after a few more such antics by me, she finally voiced her discontentment. Surprisingly, she wasn’t really upset by my behavior. Rather, she was concerned because I never took things seriously enough. She said a few other things too, most of which I didn’t hear because, well, I wasn’t listening. But one thing I did hear was that I would probably never be an artist. But that was okay, she said, not everyone can be an artist.
 
Some years later,  once I’d gotten serious about giving my creative side a chance, I drew the picture below. I’d like to think it was perhaps partly inspired by my teacher. And although, I’m not into naming my artwork, if I were, I think I’d call this piece, A Tribute To The Teacher Who Said I’d Never Be An Artist! ~

It’s amazing what a guy can learn from those little human-like creatures known as grandchildren. Having recently spent a week with all five of my grandchildren, I am now brimming with information. While some of it is interesting, some are things a guy would rather not hear.
 
Among the things I’ve learned is: that I need to lose weight (although, it was not stated quite that way), that I’m getting old, that when the sun rises it’s time to get up (even if you’ve just gone to bed a couple of hours before), that what little hair I have left is mostly gray, that kissing my wife spreads germs, that I wouldn’t make a good fisherman, that I talk too much, and the list went on. And on.
 
Then there was the utterly useless stuff like: motorcycles have two wheels, water is wet, and you should open a door before going in. While it come as a surprise to some (my grandchildren) these things I already knew but had long ago dismissed them because they don’t serve much of a purpose for, well, anything. That didn’t seem to matter; I was still deluged with all of their “profound” knowledge.
 
Some of this enlightening info I asked for but most of it was offered freely with no prompting. The little critters seem to have no inhibitions when it comes to speaking their mind. But in a world where everyone has learned to sugarcoat things in order to not offend anyone, I found their open honesty refreshing! But also, a little overwhelming. I’m not sure how they expected me to remember it all!
 
Yep, I definitely learned a lot of stuff. A week’s worth times five! But I think the most important thing I learned during our time together is, don’t ask a child a question if you don’t want to know the answer! ~
 
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

Wisconsin in August! Probably not the best time to venture into America’s Dairyland.
 
For those of you who did not see last week’s post, the family and I, all eleven of us, took a road trip from Oregon to Wisconsin. For some in our party, it was the first visit to the state, and their first experience with humidity and bugs! Oh, and thunderstorms!
 
Also, for some, it was their first experience with long distance driving. At first, the grandkids seemed excited at the prospect and eager to hit the road. But I think the novelty wore off after the first 100 miles or so. After that, the “joy” of driving transitioned into the typical “Are-we-there-yet view.
 
For the adults, the adventure took a turn for the worse after about ten hours, in the form of car trouble. Outside Evanston, Wyoming, one of our vehicles broke down. It would run but the transmission would not engage. Sitting on the side of the freeway is not a real exciting way to spend a vacation. After a couple of hours and a few visits from the Wyoming law enforcement (who were very friendly and helpful) we had the car towed to the dealership where we learned it would need a new transmission, which incidentally, was not cheap. Eventually, we rented a car and continued our trip, leaving the problem vehicle to be fixed. We were a day late when we got to Wisconsin but better late than never, I suppose.
 
But wait, there’s more. The day before we needed to leave, the key for the rental car decided not to work. It was one of those new key fobs and not an actual key. The message panel on the car just said “Damaged key” when we tried to use it. And although those type of keys have a “real” key inside them for such an emergency, that wouldn’t work either. No matter what we tried, the car wouldn’t start. We couldn’t even roll up the windows. Not a good situation in a place that likes to rain buckets of water! So, after another tow to the dealership and waiting a day for them to fix it, with fingers crossed, we headed home.
 
There a few more minor issues with the rental, but finally, we made it back to Evanston, Wyoming. There, we picked up the repaired vehicle, returned the rental car, and hit the road again for the rest of our journey. After a day and a half on the road, we arrived home dead tired—and slightly disgruntled.
 
But the trip wasn’t all doom and gloom. While in Wisconsin, we visited my wife’s family, celebrating her parents’ 50 years of marriage and, I think, we all had a good time. We saw a lot of family and friends that we hadn’t seen for a long time and had a nice visit. Also, on the way to Wisconsin we stopped at Mt Rushmore, and saw a few other sites too. The stops helped break up the trip for the travel novices, know as my grandchildren!
 
In all, we visited nine different states. I’m pretty sure the extended freeway journey made for a fun-filled experience for, not only the grandkids, but everyone else as well. But I don’t think any of them are ready to go anywhere in a vehicle just yet. Except me. I’m headed back to work. I’ll be driving all night again. But not to Wisconsin! ~
 
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

Vacation! Yep, again. A year ago, on my summer vacation, I spent the week painting the house, and fixing things that had been neglected far too long. This year, I’m taking an actual vacation. Well, sort of. We’re traveling to that exotic land of enchantment, known as Wisconsin. (That last part may have been typed with just a hint of sarcasm).
 
It promises to be a fun-filled, or at least, interesting, trip. The whole family, my wife and I, our three adult children, our son-in-law, and the five grandchildren will be cruising down the freeway from Oregon to Wisconsin. Normally, it’s around a thirty-hour drive, but with that many people, and that many kids, it might take a wee bit longer this time. Hopefully, by the time anyone reads this, we will be there. Hopefully.
 
For everyone, other than me, this will be a LONG trip. By the end of our vacation, we will have driven more than 3,500 miles. I’m thinking the grandkids, and perhaps a few others, will have had enough of being car bound, listening to the hum of steelbelts on the asphalt, by the time we get back home. 3,500 miles is a lot of miles. I know. That’s what I drive every week. And now you know why I said I was “sort of” taking a vacation. ~
 
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.
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