So it’s supposed to be Spring. I checked my calendar just to be sure. But what so I wake up to? 28 degrees, half an inch of snow covering everything, and a bitter wind that makes it feel more like March than May. Brilliant, just the way I like to start my day. I took it as a sign that the universe didn’t want me to leave the house, so I didn’t.

On the plus side, I did get started on the new novel to the tune of 6 pages. Not a bad beginning.

Preorders on The Hidden Tower just passed 145, so thank you all for that.

I think today would bee a good day to share another of my grandfather’s stories. This one is also from when he was a little kid and is kind of dark so bear with me.

One of his jobs when the pasture wasn’t available was to go up to the barn in the morning and put the hay out for their milk cows. So one chilly morning he heads out to the barn the same as he did everyday and what should he find but his uncle hanging from a beam, dead as a door nail.

Now understand, my grandfather is only like seven at this point so he goes screaming back to the house and tells his parents what he found. And you know what their reaction was? They didn’t believe him. His father told him to get back out there and do his work.

My grandfather flat refused even knowing he was risking a spanking. No amount of glaring or threats could make him go, so his father gets up and goes out only to return shortly there after to hitch up the horses and go to fetch the doctor who I think also served as the coroner. He never said a word to my grandfather either of apology or explanation.

Out of all the stories my grandfather used to tell, this was the one that always creeped me out the most. Can you even imagine finding your uncle hanging in the barn when you were that age? I think it would have scared me for life. Then again, I’m not as tough as my grandfather was.

Talk to you tomorrow.