Post every Sunday. 

Ha.

Ha ha.

 HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

 As you can see, that failed in June.

 But I am back again.

 Yes, yes, cheering is in order.

 *Bows grandly*

 Thank you, peasants. 

A goose

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Did you know one of our tags is Geese? I don't even remember reading a post involving geese, but it's there. I'm looking right at the tag. 

Maybe I should use it, since it has probably only been used once and I bet Ben was the one who used it.

Since I don't remember writing about geese.

So, this isn't so much about geese but one goose.

A very dashing goose.

A very dashing goose I once danced with.

Don't worry, it's not as weird as it sounds. He was dead at the time.

Shot. With a broken neck on impact.

A friend of ours had gone geese hunting and gave us some of them.

We were supposed to clean them and cut the good meat out so we could eat it.

I don't know why I started to dance with him.

It runs in the family though, my dad did it when he was a boy.

Guess I just wanted to carry on tradition.

The goose wasn't that bad of a partner though, broken neck and all.

There, now I've used the geese tag again.

That is all.

Jim

Friends

A summary of me and my friends.

It's true and they know it

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Bet ya can't guess what it's doing here today.

Look...Post!!!!!

 I'm so bad at this, but look...A POST! FROM JIM! *Faints from shock.* There, there. It's okay. You'll make it.

 Why hasn't Jim posted, you might ask? Simple....I'm a writer, therefore I don't write. It's like being a construction worker and not finishing roads.  Or an officer worker and leaving a pile of papers on your desk every day. Like being Tintin and never writing a news paper report but still calling himself a reporter.

 But I'm writing now. And I plan to do a post every Sunday. So be impressed and in awe of me.

 Because Jim has little to say?

 Why? Because Jim is a Hobbit and has yet to have Dwarves roll into her house so she's not yet gone on an adventure.

 And Jim also wants dinner.

 Because food.

 Normally I'd have something witty to say, but it's the middle of NaNo. NaNo saps all my wit and sucks it into my books. So while my characters sound clever I wave at people I pass at work and say things like, "Day is good."

 In other words, don't ask me to over exert any extra brain power, because I have none left.

 What I do have is a 50,000 word book I can proudly display. Or not so proudly until it is edited, because no one proudly shows off their unedited NaNo book. Unless they are the Emperor's New Groove movie. Unedited NaNo story at its finest.

 Speaking of which, John, Sammy, and Clara want the computer so they can catch up their word count. So I have to go, but don't be afraid. Because I is back!!!!!!!!!!

 Jim the Space Adventurer 

The Incredibly Unlikely and Practically Impossible Adventures Concerning Two Girls, A Ship of Pirates, A King and Jester, A traveling Musical Company and Butterflies

MY TURN!

Chapter Two: Concerning a treasure chest and a phone call

Ring, ring

Jim didn't like answering the phone. She glanced up from her book and quickly scanned the room. She hoped to see Ben, and hoped to talk Ben into answering it.

Ring, ring.

Jim wouldn't say she was particularly scared of answering the phone. She didn't have a phobia against it, but something close enough to pass.

RING, RING

She just didn't like to talk to people when she couldn't see them face to face.

RING, RING

Really didn't like it.

RIIIIIIIIIIING, RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!

At all.

RING! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then again, sometimes the phone refused to be understanding.

Closing her book, which she'd been thoroughly enjoying, Jim left her sprawled out position on the couch and picked up the phone's ear piece. She then spoke into the mouth piece, for obvious reasons.

“Hello. Jim Hillenbrand.”

Silence, followed by a whispered convention, then, “You're a girl.”

Jim leaned against the wall beside the mounted phone. “I am,” she agreed.

“Are you aware of the fact your name is Jim?”

She'd had to explain this more than once and had gotten rather good at it. “Yes. My mother's name was Alice and my father's was Gerry. His father's name was Bill and my mother's mother's name was Sue. And I'm Jim.”

Another pause. Another round of a whispered convention. “Makes sense. So, listen, it says in the yellow pages that you and your cousin Ben are the last living relatives of your uncle, is that true?”

Jim tugged on one of her braids. “It says all of that in the yellow pages?”

“I have the updated version. Is it true?”

Jim nodded, then remembered one couldn't be seen through phones. Which was really rather sad. With space travel happening, and teleports and flying ships and phonographs small enough to fit in your pocket one would think they would have invented phones you could see through by this point in time.

Oh well, what do I know? I'm an Author, not an inventor.

Jim: Who are you? (She asked this of a middle aged man who wore a brightly plaid vest and had a pen stuck behind his ear. He had just suddenly appeared and he looked up in sudden surprise because, another obvious moment, he wasn't used to being addressed like this.)

Random person who has yet to introduce himself: Oh dear, I've gone and told myself into the story again, haven't I?

Jim: Story? And you didn't answer my question.

Random Person who now gets his title in capital letters: Sorry, you're right. I haven't. See, I'm the Narrator of this story. It is my job to sit on the other end of the story and type down everything that happens in the Plot.

Jim: The Plot. That sounds rather exciting.

Narrator: (In other words ME): Oh it is, the Plot is the best thing that can ever happen in a story.

Jim: What is Plot?

POOF!

The man with the vest vanished in a puffy cloud of white smoke. Jim blinked and realized the person on the phone was still talking.

“Are you there? Are you listening to me? Hello! HELLO! I am not used to being ignored.”

“Sorry.” Jim tugged on her braid. “I thought I saw a Narrator.”

“What's a Narrator?”

Jim shrugged and completely forgot about Narrators. “Who are you?” she asked the person on the other end of the phone.

“Sir Isaac.” There was a puffy Breath of Importance. Not the same as a puffy cloud of white smoke, but close enough.

“Who now?”

The puffy Breath of Importance deflated. “Sir...Isaac...”

Jim had a prickly feeling that the man expected her to know his name. She felt bad and blamed it on a thing called LACK OF LUNCH.

“I don't think I know you.”

She tried to let him down gently. Instead he crashed and had his ego injured, which hurts no matter what you are told otherwise.

“I'm a famous pirate.”

Jim squealed. “Really?! I've never met a famous pirate before!”

Nothing fixes a injured ego like a moment of flattery. “Well, we do tend to keep to ourselves. When we meet up I will sign your shoe if you like.”

Jim looked down and realized she was barefoot. “Meet up?” she asked.

Sir Isaac turned stern, which is not at all like turning a pancake over to let the other side cook.

“We have your uncle locked up and shall undergo vile torture methods unless you bring his Beloved Treasure to our ship TONIGHT!”

“What?!” Jim gasped and squeaked and slapped a hand over her mouth and one over her heart. Because that is the proper reaction for when your uncle has been kidnapped by a famous pirate you've never heard of.

When she freed one hand, the one from her heart, she picked up the phone's ear piece. “But...but...”

“TONIGHT!”

Jim tried to be brave. “I don't think it would be good to meet on your ship. You might kidnap Ben and I.”

“It is Ben and me. Where do you want to meet?”

Jim thought. “Our house?”

“NO! You might capture myself and my pirates! By the way, see how much nicer that sounds?”

In spite of her worry Jim had to admit the pirate had a nice form of expressing himself and placing his words.

“How about a random place then?”

“How do we pick it?”

“Put a map on the floor and throw a knife and where it lands is where we will met,” Jim decided.

Of course this was done, along with someone shouting about his toes and Sir Isaac's bad throwing skills, and then the location was given. But since it wasn't exactly nearby Sir Isaac said she and Ben could have more than one day to get there. They set the date for two days from the day they talked and then they hung up.

And then Jim dropped her book and ran to get her cousin.

Oh look, it's Jim

I'm a horrible poster.

Poster, as in someone who should write blog posts.

Not as in a poster on a sign.

Though I'd be horrible at that too.

But you see, spring is here.

Sand.

Sun.

Lakes.

Trees to climb.

Mountains to hike.

Dirty bare feet.

Books.

Laying in the sun and reading books.

So you can see why I went AWOL, right?

Because....I'M DOING WHAT FROZEN THINGS DO IN SUMMER!

I'm gonna post better though.

Just you wait and see.

Jim is brilliant like that.

Jim also just ate M&Ms like a true soldier.

Jim has no idea how a true soldier eats M&Ms, but she totally ate them like one.

She also shoved her bike across a river today.

Because she is like that and forgets to use bridges.

And she is talking in third person to prepare for when she takes over the world and addresses herself like the Queen of England does.

She'd also dearly love some cake, cookies, and ice cream.

And the Penderwicks book back by tomorrow.

*Squints at Ben*

But first, she wants to finish a book she's reading.

So she will leave you now.

Jim the Space Adventurer