I’m watching Master Jerry eat his morning breakfast: toast, oatmeal, and coffee. I’m a cat I don’t care for any of that stuff. Why doesn’t he eat what I like? You know chicken flavored kibbles and canned tuna straight out of the can, which is quite tasty, though a bit boring. That’s why I like to hunt mice, flies, birds, and anything else I can pounce on and sink my highly sharpened claws.
Tag Archives: Writing
Another Interview
As many of you my loyal readers know I have been using all media to market my books to garner interest and sales. Today, another is going to occur in the form of an interview with Zach Feldman.
Update to Previous Blog
As many of you are quite aware, I keep up with the news, and the local news gave me and a majority of others here much comfort. The news is that the killer I mentioned in the blog I wrote in June had killed his three daughters.
Antifa Hunting We Go
Joe Buck went to the local market where his buddies of like mindedness hung out at a pair of tables where paying customers ate deli meals like Jo-Jos and the store’s famous monster tacos.
Tommy Boy
“Meow, I’m Tommy the kitten abandoned by an evil human family and now living with this wonderful human named Master Jerry. He’s really old and don’t walk very well, and his left arm and hand can’t pet me like the other one can.”
The Joy of Celebrating My Birthday
This is my personal holiday, a moment for introspection, celebration, and connection. Every year, as my birthday approaches, I find myself swept up in the gentle tide of anticipation
Bob’s Epiphany
On an August day six years ago Bob Awoke late in the afternoon. He felt like crap as his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his hands shook from the burnout and the morning after the night before when he last got high with friends.
Campout Day Three
We packed our stuff and Tamera and Sonya helped me with that tent. I explained to them what my grandson Isaac explained: pull the tent closed and tight then fold over into a figure eight and then place it inside the nylon holder to be zipped up.
Campout Day 2
“This is why I like this car!” I told Tamera and Sonya while I passed three John Deere tractors and a pilot vehicle on the Pasco-Kahlotus Road heading toward Levy Park. In no time had I seen my opportunity on the stretch of two-lane paved road cleared and hit the afterburners and was pushing over eighty miles per hour.
The Campout
My youngest sister and I planned this months ago after I bought my new car. She couldn’t or didn’t have the time for me to go all the way to Bend, Oregon where she lives, so compromised on Charbonneau Park, not too far from the Tri-Cities where we grew up.
Jerry Schellhammer 