Monday, May 23, 2016

Personal update

   Hey everybody!
   Well, here I am. Typing out a blog post on my mobile device. ;) I've been such a busy little girl! I just can't find time to sit at an actual computer and write out an actual post.
   As most of you already know, I've started working full-time. I'm loving my job and my co-workers! I like people. And my job allows me to see all kinds of different personalities! It's fun! :D I never knew before how much goes into selling dirt and rocks. Haha! Sometimes I feel like I'm not learning as fast as I should be. But things are definitely moving along!
   One of the downsides to working full-time is the lack of time to do anything else. I don't know how people work all day and then come home and do more work. I mean, besides my regular chores and caring for my siblings. My Etsy shop is sorely lacking attention. I have knitted another item to sale. But I haven't gotten around to taking the photos and listing it. And I haven't added a single sentence to "Peter's Sweepers". I apologize to those who are waiting for that!
   I do still manage to write letters to my dear pen pals. I guess it's all about what you prioritize. I went to a Parade on Saturday and watched a movie (Beyond The Mask!) yesterday. I guess I could have gotten some knitting done instead of doing those things. Oh well. I'll get around it. ;)
   Here are a few pictures from off of my phone. :)

Cut a few inches off and layered my hair!

The show truck is ready to be in the parade!



Well, that's it for now. God bless!

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Chapter Five Part One

   For the preceding chapters click the Peter's Sweepers tab above.
    I can only share with you the first part of Chapter Five because I haven't finished it yet! But I figured I better not keep you waiting too long. :) So here it is:
   Dusty leaned against the cold stones of the Chalk family's chimney. He crossed his arms over his chest and braced against the sharp wind. He could see for miles from his vantage point. His eyes skimmed the rooftops for Rat.
   It had been days since Dart's disappearance. Rat had not spoken a word since then. Everyday he would leave the tavern after breakfast, be unseen all day, and then return for supper, without any coal. He had begun to not even take his chimney broom along. He had no plans to clean any chimneys.
   Every evening Peter boxed Rat on the ear and sent him to bed without supper. In the morning Dusty tried to give Rat a larger share of porridge to make up for the lack of supper. But it did no good. Rat was losing weight. His cheeks grew hollow, and his eyes sunk into his head.
   The only time Rat talked was in his sleep. He would call out for Dart. In broken sobs he would tell Dart he was sorry. Then, like a thin little ghost, he would run to Dusty's bedside and beg, "Clean them off! Clean them off!" He would not go back to bed until Dusty used a corner of his blanket to wipe at Rat's hands.
   Dusty shivered at the memory. He dreaded nights now. He wished he could be hard and uncaring like Peter. He wished it didn't hurt deep down in his chest to watch Rat's suffering. He wished he didn't miss innocent little Dart. But he did.
   With sigh Dusty pushed away from the chimney and climbed down to the ground. He thought of how quickly Rat could navigate the sky road. He wished he was as skilled. But then again, he didn't wish he was Rat.
   Dusty knew exactly where the police station was. Every chimney sweep knew where the closest station was. Not because they wanted to go there, but because it was the one place they tried with all their might to avoid. Today Dusty wasn't avoiding it. Today Dusty was going to pay the police station a visit. If anyone knew what had happened to Dart it was the police.
    The police station was an old stone building; looking cold and uninviting. Dusty shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched it from across the street. No one left or entered the building. The inactivity stood in contrast to the people doing their shopping at the nearby shops.
   Taking a deep breath Dusty pushed his way through traffic to cross the street. Then he opened the front door of the station. A blast of heat from inside set his ears, nose and cheeks to tingling. A pot bellied stove burned briskly in a corner. Near to it was a large bulky desk; piled high with disorganized papers.
   Behind the desk sat a big, mustached man dressed in uniform.This, Dusty knew, was the local police chief. Chief Talon.
   "Shut the door, you blasted kid!" Chief Talon exclaimed, "You're letting in the air!"
   Dusty swung the door shut, wishing he was on the outside of it, instead of the inside. The Chief's intimidating eyebrows were enough to keep anybody from wanting to visit.
   When the door was shut Chief Talon went back to writing in a thick ledger, as if Dusty wasn't there. Dusty fiddled with the hem of his coat and looked about the room while he waited.
   The hum of voices drifted in from a closed door to Dusty's left. The desk and stove were before him. A metal door with a barred window was to his right. The cell. Dusty eyed it cautiously. It seemed to be unoccupied.
   Chief Talon's pen continued to scratch. A log fell and crackled in the stove. Several minutes passed.
   Suddenly the door to Dusty's left opened. A skinny, blond policeman came through with a steaming mug, which he placed on the desk for the chief. When he spied Dusty he smirked. "Another chimney sweep caught snitching apples, Chief?"
   Chief Talon looked up. "What the devil are you talking about, Cal?"
   Cal nodded at Dusty. The Chief's eyebrows dipped down toward his nose. "He just came in on his own. Nobody brought him. You deal with him." Then he went back to writing.
   Cal came toward Dusty with a friendly smile. "What can we do for you, lad?"
   Dusty pushed his hands into his pockets. "I come to ask if'n ya know what happened to Dart. He's gone missin'. I figured if'n anyone would know, you would."
   Cal ran a hand through his hair, "Well now, that all depends." He glanced about the room and his eyes landed on two chairs near the stove. "Come sit down, lad, and we'll talk about it."
   The two of them sat down and Dusty held his hands out toward the warmth. Cal's observant eyes noticed Dusty's wind chapped hands. Without a word he took a jar from off the desk. Taking Dusty's hands in his, he began to rub salve into the bleeding cracks.
   "Now tell me lad, what's the name of your friend again?"
   Dusty watched his hands warily. Being cared for by someone else wasn't something he was used to. "Dart." He answered, "He went missin' 'bout five days ago."
   "Hmmm." The salve was warm and soothing. Cal's fingers and voice were gentle. Dusty stiffened in his seat, fighting the urge to relax.
   "Where was he when you last saw him?"
   "He was goin' out to clean chimneys with Rat."
   "I see. And is Rat missing as well?"
   "No. He come home by hisself. In an awful state, he is. Won't talk at all. He won't tell us what happened to Dart, neither. But he knows, 'cause he talks to 'im in his sleep now. He's always tellin' 'im he's sorry."
   "Oh?" Cal turned Dusty's hand over and worked on the other side.
   Chief Talon shut the ledger loudly, leaned back in his chair and sipped his steaming drink. His eyes stared ahead of him at the door, as if daring someone to come through it.
   After a moment of silence Cal asked, "What does Dart look like?"
   "He's small." said Dusty, "His hair is light, but not as light as your's is. I think his eyes are brown." he shrugged. There wasn't really much to say about Dart's looks. Then he added, "His chest always rattles. And he coughs a lot. We always give 'im a bit o' lard to help."
   "Hmmm." Cal said again. He screwed the lid back onto the salve jar, reaching over the back of his chair to put it back on the desk. Then he picked up a notebook and pencil. After turning several pages he began to write in it. He mumbled to himself as he wrote. It seemed to Dusty he said, "A needle in a hay stack. The poor kid."
   Chief Talon thumped his mug back down onto the desk, grabbed a fistful of papers and began thumbing through them. He shoved a few of them into a trash can. Dusty noticed a faint scar running down his cheek. Silence reigned. Dusty wished someone would say something.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Just a Tad Nervous!

   I've taken a huge step in life. Yep, I've done something HUGE! Something crazy! I went and bit a huge chunk off that I don't know if I can chew!
   Okay, so maybe not that huge or crazy...but maybe a tad intimidating?
   I've started an Etsy Shop! It's still under construction. I haven't really gotten it all set up. Some things here and there I'd like to fix and change. I'll get to that, don't worry! BUT, it is open for business!!! And the one item I have uploaded is for sale! Check it out and click Here!
   And that's all for today, Folks!<3

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Tenth Avenue North - By Your Side (with lyrics)

Isaiah 12

   Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid: for the Lord JEHOVAH is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation. 
   Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation.
   And in that day shall ye say, Praise ye the Lord, call upon his name, declare his doings among the people, make mention that his name is exalted.
   Sing unto the Lord; for he hath done excellent things: this is known in all the earth.
   Cry out and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion: for great is the Holy One of Israel in the midst of thee.
   Isaiah 12: 2-6

   You all have a great day! ~Kimberly Elizabeth
   P.S. The next chapter of Peter's Sweepers is in progress ;)


Friday, February 19, 2016

Colossians 3:15

    And let the peace of God rule in our hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful.


Friday, January 8, 2016

Peter's Sweepers: Chapter Four!

   Dusty leaned against the kitchen door, cap pulled low. Billy, Arnie and Lane had already returned, deposited their coal sacks in the shed behind the tavern and stacked their brushes together in the corner in the kitchen. Now they had gone off to do whatever they pleased until supper was ready.
   Dart and Rat had not returned. Dusty folded his arms across his chest and shifted impatiently. The rain had finally stopped and he wanted to do some exploring. But he couldn't leave until Dart and Rat checked in. He wasn't worried. Rat was too clever to get into trouble.
   He heard Peter bang some pots in the kitchen. Opening the door he went inside.
   Peter was chopping potatoes. He had traded his bar apron for his kitchen one. He jerked his chin at the chimney brooms in the corner. "Ya missin' a few?" he grunted around his cigar.
   Dusty leaned against the counter. "Naw. Rat and Dart ain't back yet."
   Peter made a sound of acknowledgement that sounded like a growl. "How much coal today?" he asked.
   "Nine sacks, so far."
   Dusty went to the water basin and emptied the used water into the slop bucket. Then he refilled it from the rain barrel so Dart and Rat could clean up when they arrived.
   He crouched by the fire and used a piece of kindling to light a cigar. It was one of Peter's. Dusty was the only one Peter allowed to smoke. Perhaps to make up for pushing so much responibilty upon the young lad. Dusty did not particularly like to smoke; But he always did his best to stay on Peter's good side.
   Suddenly the kitchen door opened. Dusty glanced up, then jumped to his feet with alarm.
   Rat stood in the doorway. But he didn't look like himself. Underneath the soot and grime his face was as white as a sheet. His eyes were like black glass. His hands hung lifeless at his sides.
   "Where've you been?" Dusty asked.
   Rat didn't answer. He took a few steps into the room and let the door swing shut behind him.
   Peter turned from the potatoes and looked Rat up and down, "And where's yar broom? Did ya loose it? How much coal did ya git?"
   Rat looked down at his feet. He did not speak.
   Peter gave him a box on the ear. "Answer me!" he demanded, his quick temper kindled.
   Rat still did not speak, but took several steps back until he was against the door, out of Peter's reach.
   "Rat," Dusty broke in, "Where's Dart?"
   Rat now looked up. His glassy eyes stared into Dusty's, as if trying to convey a message. His bottom lip trembled.
   "Speak!" exclaimed Peter. He stepped forward and caught hold of Rat by the back of the neck. His face was flushed with anger. He shook Rat violently and shouted, "How dare you not speak! I have ordered you! Where's Dart? Where's yar broom? Where's yar coal?"
   He threw Rat to the floor. The boy did not make a sound. Not even a whimper of pain.
   "Bah!" said Peter with disgust, "Go to bed without supper." and he scooped up handfuls of potatoes and dropped them into his pot.
   Dusty helped Rat stand. His ear was a little swollen, otherwise he was unharmed. He looked guiltily at Dusty, then climbed the loft ladder to obey Peter's order.
   Dusty took a towel and dipped a corner of it into the water basin. Then he too climbed up to the loft.
   Rat was sitting on Dusty's cot, staring at the cot he and Dart shared. Dusty went to him and handed him the towel. Rat used the wet end to clean himself, and the dry end to dry. Then he pulled off his wet clothes, with Dusty's help, and climbed silently under Dusty's blanket. He did not even consider climbing into his own cot.
   Dusty let him be. God had given this boy wisdom beyond his years. Unlike Peter, he did not demand answers. He knew that Rat had been trod upon by some awful occurence. He knew without asking that Dart would never come home. He knew that whatever had happened would scar Rat for life. Let the boy be silent. Let him grieve in his own way. Perhaps some day all would be revealed. For now, Dusty would wait.
   You, dear reader, know more then Dusty of what has happened to our Rat. But even you do not know all. Rat has taken it, and buried it deep in his soul. There it will fester like a sore, as will his guilt over the stolen wallet. But Dusty is right; someday all will be revealed. You must be patient.
   Arnie, Lane, and Billy were, of course, surprised to come home and find Rat in bed and Dart missing. They did not ask questions though, because Peter was in a terrible mood. Anything they said could bring his attention-and his anger-toward them, and so they kept silent until they were sent to bed and Peter had gone to tend the bar for the night.
   They were quite dissatisfied with what Dusty had to tell them, but he warned them not to question Rat.
   That was a bad night for all of them. Dusty spent it with his arms wrapped around Rat, who whimpered and called out for Dart in his sleep. His body was hot with fever. Lane and Arnie whispered together, trying to guess what had happened. Billy tossed and turned under his blanket, his stomach twisted in knots. This wasn't the first time he'd known a chimney sweep to dissappear. It brought up a lot of bad memories he wished he could forget.