Friday, September 29, 2017


PK said this meme has been stolen many, many times and I'm going to continue this thievery.  Thank you Amy and PK


Marriages – 1
Proposals – 3
Divorces – 0               
Surgeries – 2
Tattoos – 0 - eye & lips colored, does that count
Piercings – ears only (two in one, one in another)


Shot a gun – Yes, don't like it
Quit a job – a couple of times - once it was one of those dramatic things, I got angry and just walked out.

Been on TV – a couple of local shows (same answer as PK but different locales)

Fallen in love – oh, yes

Driven cross country – A couple of times - know the route well.

Hit a deer – No

Watched a birth – No

Ridden in an ambulance –Never and I don’t want to.(same answer as PK)

Sung karaoke – Please, I have some pride. (same answer as PK)

Ice skated – Yes, all the time as a kid and less often as an adult

Been surfing – Nope, although I've watched Ray do it many times.

Seen the ocean – Atlantic and Pacific.

Ridden a horse – Yes

Almost died – Not that I’m aware of.

Been punched – Nope.

Punched back – Only in jest.

Are you:

In love now – I sure am.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Falling Leaves

Happy Fall everyone - are you as ready as I am.  It's so nice to be able to open the windows and doors for a bit before the sun starts heating up again.  It's been a busy week here and the only writing I've done lately are these weekly stories.  I need someone to light a fire under me.  lol


Brenda Fraser opened the front door and breathes in the scents she loved.  Fall was upon them and everything was different.  No longer did the languid scents of summer blooms past their prime fill the air.  Now, the air seemed cleaner and crisper, scents of cinnamon and spice assaulted her senses.  Anticipation of cooler mornings and evenings and warm sunshine filled afternoons made her smile.  This was her favorite time one year with one exception. 

She loved how Mother Nature painted the landscape – the colors were beautiful until they fell to the ground.  Not only did she not like the starkness of the bare trees but the beautiful colors didn’t look so beautiful on the ground, not to mention the musty odor left behind after a rain.  They lived on a wooded lot and once the leaves fell a thick carpet blanketed their yard.  Brenda adhered to the theory they should be raked and burned; it’s what her parents always did. It added to the allure of fall and was as much a part of fall as pumpkins. Jackson, however, was of the mind that they acted as a protective layer for the earth and should be left.

Every year, she asked for his help in rounding up the thousands of leaves that carpeted the ground and every year, he found other things to occupy his time. He said cleaning out the shutters and fireplace were more important than raking leaves. She even tried enlisting the help of their son to no avail.  He took his father’s theory and provided no help – chopping wood, etc. seemed a manlier thing than raking leaves.

And so, Brenda uttered a big sigh as she closed the front door.  The wind was up and she knew it was only a matter of time until those beautiful colors would be on the ground.  Later  today, if the wind died down, she’d get out the rake and begin the chore of marshaling the leaves into piles. 

The sun had grown low in the sky when Brenda was finished.  She went to the shed and uttered a few choice words when the box with the trash bags sat there empty, right next to the fireplace ashes.

With hands on hips and fire in her eyes, she sought out Jackson.

“You used the last trash bag for the ashes, now what am I supposed to use for the leaves.”

“Calm down, honey, I planned on going to get some as soon as I’m done here.”

“And when is that, when it’s dark.”

“Honey, I’ll take care of it.”

Brenda was not thrilled with his answer.  ‘The hell with him’, she thought.  ‘I’ll just burn the leaves, rather than bag them.’  Having no idea how to do this in a safe manner, she merely threw a lighted match to one of the piles.  As the piled burned, she raked more of the piles to the fire and was pleased with herself when the wind suddenly returned with a vengeance. The flames climbed high into the air and the smoke enveloped her until she was overcome and stepped back, trying to breathe some clean air. 

Jackson came running and yelled to their son to grab the hose.  They were able to contain the fire without further incident.Brenda was still coughing and breathing hard when Jackson began scolding her.

“Don’t you dare scold me,” she told him. 

“Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of it?”


“Well, why didn’t you wait”?

“I wanted it done and finished.”

“Is it finished now?”


“No, it’s not and now it’s more a mess than before.  I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow and it will be more of a mess.”

“Brenda, let it go.” Jackson told her. 

But Brenda, being Brenda couldn’t let it go and Jackson, being Jackson, had the solution if she didn’t obey. She got in the car and headed to the store to purchase trash bags.  When she returned, Jackson was standing at the door.

“Go upstairs right now,” he ordered.

“I won’t,” she said, knowing full well what that order entailed.

“Suit yourself.”  He took hold of her arm and pulled her toward the kitchen table.

“No, no, no Jackson.  Peter is home.”

“No, he isn’t, I sent him out to get pizza.  There will be plenty of time to take care of this before he gets back.  Now lean over and get ready to take your medicine.”

“But Jackson,”

“No, there are no butts, only yours.  I’m going to set fire to it the way you set fire to the leaves. When I’m finished, you’ll be wishing you had waited for me.”

He delivered several hard smacks to her behind before pulling down her jeans.  He reached for the hated bamboo spoon and really lit into Brenda.  She was dancing a jig as he plied that wooden implement across her bare behind. After every fourth swat across her cheeks, he would deliver one to her thighs and she would howl her displeasure.  Jackson admired his handiwork on her bottom – there were red splotches on both cheeks and her thighs exhibited his handiwork too.  Jackson took a breather and rubbed his hand across his wife’s heated backside to calculate how much more he should deliver. He was just about to begin the spanking anew when he heard a car in the driveway.  He quickly stopped and helped Brenda to stand.  He reached down and pulled up her jeans over her now swollen behind and pushed her toward the stairs with a departing last swat on her behind.

“Go freshen up now, Peter’s home with dinner.  We’ll talk later.  By the way, you did a nice job on the leaves.”  If Brenda had something in her hand right then she would have thrown it at him.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Spanking Advice from an Unlikely Source

Another week passed with nary a blog post in sight. I think it's the new normal.  I can't seem to find the time to put one together, one day blends into the next until it's Sunday and I realize I have to come up with a story.  It was a good week.  Spent time with friends at cards, lunch, etc etc. We've really embraced living in this community, it's not only been good for me but good for Ray as well. He has made some good friends and I'm thrilled for him.
Well, time to get his posted, I've got errands to run before the Bronco game comes on.

Roxanne and Grant Harris were old marrieds in a new neighborhood.  They downgraded from the large house where they raised their family to a smaller version in a nearby town.  It was a retirement community that offered many amenities and seemed perfect for them. As management, Grant’s hours were more predictable and Roxanne only accepted sporadic teaching assignments leaving them time to enjoy the benefit of scrimping and cutting coupons all those years. Or so she thought.

Roxanne taught school the first few years of their marriage.  Once the kiddoes came along, she switched from full-time teaching to substituting.  It worked well, her mother lived nearby and would take care of the children if Roxanne had an assignment.  Grant was a lineman for the county (reminds me of a song). They met when he accompanied his nephew to school for career day.  There were definite sparks and somehow Grant to finagle a way to get her number. They dated for a while before she found out what his job entailed.  Once she did, she urged him to find another line of work. 

He loved what he did, it was dangerous, but it was also challenging and he loved the challenge. He had no intention of making a career change.  He made that perfectly clear to Roxanne right up front that she either accepted his career or move on.  They broke up for a while but eventually came together once Roxanne came to terms with Grant’s chosen profession.  Her mind eased as he progressed from apprentice to journeymen to  supervisor to management. 

Grant did not adapt well to sitting in an office. He yearned for the excitement of the field and much to Roxanne’s chagrin accepted an offer from the State’s Emergency Management Team. As such he and his team were called upon in emergencies not only in his state but in other areas of the country as well.  Sometimes he would be gone for weeks at a time.  He was not one to stand by and watch as others did the hard work of restoring power to homes and towns affected by whatever the emergency happened to be.  Roxanne preferred to think that Grant was directing efforts not being part of them and Grant let her think that.  It kept the peace.  All was well until that fateful day. 

He was in the bucket assisting another lineman in repairing a transformer when suddenly he felt a jolt and was thrown from the bucket.  He had no idea what happened after that – he woke up in a hospital bed.  His injuries included a broken arm and leg, several broken ribs, burns on his hands, arms and torso as well as a head injury that affected his sight and memory. 

Months of healing and rehabilitation followed.  As the swelling in his brain went down, his sight was restored, as well as some memory, but not all.  The burns on his hands affected the nerves and he lost his dexterity forcing him to ride a desk for the rest of his working days. 

It wasn’t long before he took an early retirement.  Now he was home all the time.  At first, Roxanne was thrilled to have her husband full-time.  Soon though, they began to get on each other’s nerves.  Roxanne found more and more projects that involved her being out of the house.  Grant complained that Roxanne was never around.  They fought more than they had ever done so in the whole of their married life.

One particular day, their daughter and son-in-law were visiting with the grandkids.  Grant and Roxanne were in the midst of one of their harangues when Grant gave Roxanne a swat on the behind.  The littles of the kiddos happened to see and shouted that Grampy just spanked Grammy.  “That’s right, Joey,” his mother said.  “Sometimes, even big people need a spanking.”

Roxanne was mortified and fled the scene.  Grant explained to Joey that he and Grammy were only funning and that hitting another person was never allowed.  Joey listened and then went outside.  Their daughter, who had witnessed more and more of her parent’s squabbles said that maybe a spanking would clear the air.

“What are you saying Julie?”

“I’m saying that maybe a little spanking might help get things back on track between you.”

“Why would you even think or suggest that?”

“It works for Dean and I and lots of other couples. Quite by accident, I came across an article on the WEB and after reading figured it was worth a try.  Dean and I had been arguing a lot over ridiculous things and I couldn’t seem to help myself. I could see it taking a toll on our relationship and figured it might be worth a try.   I never really thought it would 
help or that I would embrace it, but a few good slaps on my bottom solves lots of problems.” She didn’t want to tell her dad that what started out as a few good slaps had turned into full-on discipline sessions, all with her consent.  She knew her dad and this was probably more than he could handle.  She was right, his next statement confirmed her thought.

“He hits you.  I’ll have a talk with him.” Grant said not believing what he just heard.

“No dad, he doesn’t hit me per se.  He spanks me and it works. He was dead set against it but I finally convinced him and now he sees the benefits.  I actually don’t have to ask him anymore, he sees when I’m in need and steps up. 

Joey came running back into the room before the conversation went any further.  Grant mulled over the conversation that afternoon and for days afterward.  Roxanne never mentioned the incident which surprised the hell out of him.  It wasn’t until they were in the midst of one of their squabbles when she piped up with ‘don’t you dare think you can strike me again.’

“You know, Roxanne, striking you again never entered my mind.  Spanking you, however, did and if you keep it up that’s exactly what is going to happen.”

“Are you crazy?  Do you honestly think I am going to allow you to spank me like you would a recalcitrant child?”

“Ms. Harrison, it’s not a matter of what you will allow but what I will do.  Now are you going to stop this or do I have to follow through.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Grant started moving toward her and she backed up until she couldn’t go any further.  She plastered herself against the wall watching as Grant approached with fire and brimstone in his eyes.  He took her arm and pulled her over to the couch.  He sat down, taking her with him and positioned her over his knee.  Roxanne was fighting like a wild animal and it wasn’t until he delivered a firm slap to her bare thigh that she settled down a bit. She was still kicking but seemed to realize that her fate was determined.  He managed to scissor her legs between his, pulled up her dress and whacked her bottom several times. 

They were both surprised at their bodily reactions.  He felt his pants grow tighter in the groin area and she felt a sudden wetness in her panties.  She wiggled her ass – and the squirming mass of flesh received some more wallops.  He managed to wedge her panties into her ass crack and could see her bottom starting to redden.  His pants grew tighter and that’s when he spotted the wetness on her thighs.  

“Me thinks the lady is liking this,” he said.

“Don’t you go waxing poetic on this.  This is a physical onslaught and I won’t stand for it.”
“Standing is exactly what you will be doing, darlin', if you don’t behave.” With that, he delivered a volley of stinging slaps that continued until he could feel her body release the tension it had been holding. 

He held her in place, pulling down her dress and rubbing her back.  “Now darling are you going to stop acting like a recalcitrant child, or do I have to continue with the spanking.”

He could barely hear her answer.  “What’s that, Roxanne, I didn’t hear you.”

“You know you heard me.”

“Yes, but I want to be sure.”

“I said that I want you to take me.”

“Take you where?” he said purposely being obnoxious.

“Ooh, you are such an ass.”

“Oh, more spanking then.”

“No, no, no.  You know what I want and need.”

He laughed and yes he did.  The discomfort in his pants told him he needed it wanted it too.

As he carried Roxane to his bedroom he said he’d have to thank their daughter.  ‘No, I’ll just see if she notices a difference,’ and he smiled the rest of the way.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Romancing the Belt

Once again, I didn't post all week.  I always mean to and before you know it, the week is over.  Does anyone else have that problem?

Today, I'm praying for my Florida friends and family.  Irma is flexing her muscle and like Texas, it will be a while before they even approach normal. It's a devastating storm and the fact that it veered west at the last minute caused me great concern that many of those folks weren't as ready as they could be.It's been almost 100 years since a storm churned into Tampa and complacency sets in.  By the time you're reading this it will be in full force and I ask you to keep them in your thoughts and prayers.  

It's been a helluva week.  Texans are trying to recover from Harvey, Mexico has been hit by a tremendous earthquake and the western United States is aflame.  I know the weather in the rest of the world isn't great either and I don't know how 45 and the rest of those idiots can deny climate change.  I only know it's going to get worse unless we take the steps necessary.  After all, it's the only planet we have at the moment.

Enough, here's this week's story.

I’m sitting here watching my wife chase her tail and a cute little tail it is.   She has it in her head that we are going away for the weekend.  I know we’re not.  I just finished watching the news and the weatherman predicted heavy storms for the area.  Why would I want to drive into heavy storms and be stuck somewhere while if we stayed here I can sit back in my favorite chair and watch football?  Hell, we can see the changing colors of the leaves by looking out our window.

“Rod, what jeans will you be wearing?” I hear her call out from the bedroom.

“I’ll be wearing my sweat pants because we’re not going.”

“We are going. I’ve booked the best little Bed & Breakfast.  You should see the reviews.”

“What about the dog.”

“I’ve arranged a professional sitter - one that is going to stay the whole time, not just come in to feed and such.”

“That’ll cost too much.”

“Not as much as the last time when Bennie chewed through the cage at the boarding place, or when the neighbor came in to find that Bennie had taken revenge on the couch cushions.”

“Don’t remind me.  Keep the name for future reference.  Is there a cancellation fee?”

“We’re not canceling, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Jo-Anne, I told you we’re not going.”

‘Fine, maybe you’re not going, but I am.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Wanna bet.”

I knew better than to let things go any further.  When we got into these shouting matches, things always ended the same way.  I decided I’d nip this in the bud.  I went into the bedroom to see the suitcase all packed and ready to go.  There was only one thing missing – my belt.  I could still see it hanging on its peg in the closet. I doubled it up and came out with it folded over my hand.

“Now, do you want to continue this argument or do you want my belt to convince you.”

Jo-Anne looked deflated.  “You’re such an ass,” she told me and stomped out of the room.

I knew my threat would work.  Jo-Anne hated the thought of a belt spanking, a holdover from when she was a kid. I went back to the living room and settled back into my chair.  Sometime later, I realized everything was quiet.  I called to Jo-Anne and didn’t get an answer.  Getting up I practically stepped on Bennie who was next to me – that should have been my first clue.  I was Bennie’s second choice, if Jo-Anne was around, Bennie had no use for me.

I walked to the bedroom and saw the suitcase still on the bed, then walked to the kitchen and saw her phone sitting on the counter.  Thinking she must be outside, I opened the door to the garage and saw her car was gone.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I said to myself.  I figured she’d be back in a bit and we would have a discussion about leaving without a note and without her phone.  When she hadn’t returned by dark, I began calling around.  No one had heard from or seen her.  Now I was worried – then it dawned on me.  I bet she went without me.  I rummaged around until I found the information on the Bed and Breakfast.  I called and sure enough. Jo-Anne Walters had checked in.  Since there weren’t phones in the room, they asked me if I wanted to leave a message.

“No message,” I said. 

Now I had to make a decision.  I wasn’t sure if I should drive up there or just wait until she returned home.  I decided to wait her out, otherwise, we’d have two cars.  Knowing she was safe settled my mind. 

I went to bed at my normal time and fell asleep.  I don’t know what time it was but Bennie jumping off the bed awakened me.  I heard noises but Bennie wasn’t barking.  ‘That’s strange.’ I said to myself.  I got up out of bed and went to check on things.  Much to my surprise, there was my wife in our kitchen.'

She took one look at me and came running toward me.  “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” I told her.  We’ll talk about it in the morning, let’s go to bed.”

I slept in later than usual the next morning.  When I awoke, I was alone in the bed but in Jo-Anne’s spot was my belt.  I rubbed my eyes because I thought I was seeing things. No, sure enough, there was my belt. 

I went to the bathroom and when I returned, Jo-Anne was there, belt in hand.  “Let’s get this over with,” she said.  I wasn’t ready for this and my heart wasn’t in it. I hesitated.

“You know I deserve to be punished.”

“I know, but the belt, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, pull up your nightie and bend over the edge of the bed.”  Seeing her so vulnerable, I had to steel myself to raise my arm to strike that waiting bottom.  She winced as the strike landed, immediately leaving a red stripe.  Four stripes followed in quick succession and with each one she called out.  I couldn’t take anymore and I threw the belt down on the bed.

I took my sobbing wife into my arms and loved her back to ‘us’.

Lost in all the weather related issues of the week is that today is September 11th and to coin a phrase from FDR, 'it's a day that will live in infamy."  It was the day lives changed forever.  Join me in taking a moment to remember all those who perished on this day and to thank all the first responders for putting their life on the line in every disaster that occurs.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, September 4, 2017

Lost in the Woods

The events in Texas have really wrung me out this week.  I feel so bad knowing that the worst is yet to come.  I heard a stat on the news that only 80% of homeowners have flood insurance meaning they have not only lost everything but it's doubtful they'll be able to recoup.  I can't imagine their angst and thank the heavens I'm not in their shoes.    The one thing that has made me feel better is watching people helping each other.  People coming from all over to help their fellow man.  The country may be split over 45 but this devastation has brought us together as one as Sandra Bullock said there is no politics under eight feet of water, only people. Please give them a thought and prayer this week.

Many of you expressed a desire for these characters to appear again, perhaps even a book. It seemed perfect to bring them back to a Labor Day Fair because here in the good ole USA is Labor Day Weekend.,  - the unofficial last weekend of summer.

Carole couldn’t believe it.  How could she possibly be turned on by a man who belonged back in another century?  It must be a mistake something else must have triggered her body’s response. 

She drove home still thinking about the incident.  The first thing she did was undress and hop into the shower.  As the water sluiced down her body, her fingers found her sex and she pleasured herself all the while thinking about Sheriff Rance Decker.  That’s how she thought about him, not Rance Decker but Sheriff Rance Decker.  She supposed it had something to do with the uniform.  When they first met, he was just another cowboy with the standard outfit, jeans, a shirt and boots, but Sheriff Rance Decker was more than just another cowboy.  In his uniform he was six feet of delicious and as much as she hated to admit it to herself, he turned her on.

When she toweled off, she went to the computer and googled Sheriff Rance Decker.  Rance Decker was a member of the Decker family whose roots went back to the founding of Centerville.  He played football in high school and won a scholarship to the state university.  He played for two years but wrecked his knee at the beginning of his junior year.  He graduated cum laude and married his high school sweetheart.  He was 32 years old, and had two children. 

Further down she spied an obituary about Cindy Rice Decker.  There was a wedding picture of her and Rance – they looked like a wedding cake topper. There was no mistaking the look of love on Cindy’s face as she gazed at Rance. They seemed perfect together and she found herself granting him a little slack.

She found the Town of Centerville’s website and found some more information about Decker and his family and some history of the town itself.  There was a calendar of events and right at the top was notice of an annual fair on Labor Day Weekend.  ‘I think I might have to attend this fair.  It solves the problem  of how to meet up with Sherriff Rance Decker again. Yes, it’s perfect, I’ll drive up and spend the weekend.’ She found a listing for a bed and breakfast on the town’s website and made a reservation.

The closer it got to the holiday weekend she wondered if she was being silly. He probably had no interest in her but she couldn’t get him off her mind. Her vibrator had been getting a lot more use lately and she took to calling it Rance. Wouldn’t he just love to know that’,she thought to herself. 

She drove up on Friday afternoon and checked into the Bed and Breakfast.  It was picture perfect – an old Victorian style home with wide front porch filled with ‘cracker barrel’ style rocking chairs.  Hanging fern baskets were interspersed with wind chimes that tinkled in the late summer breeze.  She was greeted by a young girl, with freckles across her nose and a long blond ponytail.  She introduced herself as Lonnie Decker and welcomed Carole to Centerville and the bed and breakfast.  When Carole heard the name she couldn’t help but ask if she was related to the sheriff.

“Oh yes, he’s my uncle.  Here in Centerville, you’ll find Decker’s everywhere.” She giggled as she spoke. 

“Do you know my uncle?”

“I’ve met him before.”

“He’s a sweetheart and I just love him to pieces.  I babysit for my cousins once in a while.”

“How nice,” was the only thing she could think of to say.  Lonnie showed her to her room and told her there would be wine and cheese at 5:30 pm and breakfast starting at 6:30 the next morning and that she was welcome to attend before she went back to her duty at the front desk.

Carole admired the room.  It was clean as a whistle – the large windows sparkled in the sunshine,  the bed was dressed in a downy white comforter and lots of pillows.  She kicked off her shoes and collapsed down into its welcoming comfort.  By the time she woke, it was almost dark outside.  Obviously, she missed the wine and cheese and her tummy was telling her it was time to be fed.  Sure there would be food at the fair, she freshened herself up and went in search of the event.

It wasn’t hard to find.  The music and lights of the rides easily let her to the place.  It was like any other fair, kids squealing with delight, lights flashing, smells of unhealthy food lingering in the air, folks laughing and enjoying the last days of summer. 

Her nose led her to the stand serving sausage and peppers.  It smelled wonderful and she couldn’t resist the temptation.  She ordered the sandwich, a root beer, and some french fries and went to find an empty table to enjoy her repast.  She was taking a large bite out of her sandwich when someone bumped her shoulder and her sandwich went flying out of her hand landing on the ground.

“Look what you did, you clumsy oaf,” she blurted out before she turned to see it was a boy about ten.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but my sister pushed me and I couldn’t stop myself.”

She saw a girl of about eight, with a sheepish look on her face.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, he was teasing me and I pushed him.  I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” She began to cry and Carole was about to tell her it wasn’t a problem when a tall man stepped up.  “What’s going on here?”

Carole looked up into the face to Sheriff Rance Decker.  He was dressed as a sheriff tonight but as a cowboy.  She was wrong, he looked just as good in his jeans and boots – maybe not as authoritative but still looking like a man that could handle any situation.

“Mindy pushed me and I fell into this lady and her sandwich went flying,” the boy said. 

“I see and why did Mindy push you – were you teasing her again?”  It was the boy’s turn to look sheepish.

“I can see by the look on your face that was the case.  I think you owe this lady an apology and another sandwich.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rance started to ask what kind of sandwich when he recognized Carole.

“Hello.” He smiled.  “You always seemed to be in distress when we meet, why is that?’  He grinned.  He put his arm around the boy, “this here is my son Tanner and that beauty over there is my daughter Mindy.”  He extended his other arm around Mindy’s shoulders.

“Kids, this is Carole Maddow.  Tanner, go get Ms. Maddow another sandwich, sausage and peppers was it?”

“Yes, but that’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is.”

“How should I pay for it, Dad?”

“Don’t you have your allowance?”

“Yes, but that’s for the fair.”

“Well, now it’s for Ms. Maddow’s sandwich and maybe it will teach you not to tease your sister.”  The boy’s face crumpled.  Carole reached for her purse but Rance put his arm on hers to stay her action.

Tanner walked away, the slump of his shoulders made Carole want to run over and grab him up in her arms to console him.

“That’s mean,” she said in a low voice not wanting Mindy to hear.

“Not really.  I’ll give him whatever he wants later but he has to learn to be nicer to his sister.”

Rance asked if she minded if he sat down.  “Not at all, you too Mindy.”

Mindy shook her head no and ran off in the direction of her brother. 

“You don’t mind them being off by themselves.”

“Carole, this is Centerville and probably more than half the people here are related to them, so they’re pretty safe.  Besides, I can still see Tanner from here.  So to change the subject, what are you doing here?  I never expected to see you again.”

Carole sputtered and spewed and she was glad it was dark so that he wouldn’t be able to see the flush on her face.

“I felt bad about the way I behaved the last time and wanted to make it up to you.  This seemed like a perfect solution.”

“It seems to me you’re always trying to make amends for bad behavior. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse but maybe you could benefit from a good spanking.” He made the last statement in a very low voice and close to her ear which only exacerbated her libido.  “I’m available if you think I’m right,” his grin reached from ear to ear.

“I’m not one of your children, Sheriff Decker.”

“I don’t spank my children.  Naughty adult women are another matter.”

“So you’ve said before.”

Perfect timing as Mindy and Tanner returned with Carole’s sandwich.  “C’mon daddy, you promised me a ride on the Ferris wheel,” Mindy begged.

“She’s right, I did and I always live up to my word.”  He wiggled his eyebrows. Will you be here again tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m staying over at the Bed & Breakfast.  BTW, I met your niece this afternoon, she’s in love with you.”

‘Yes, I seem to have that effect on the opposite sex.” His grin was infectious and she found herself grinning back at him. "You're exasperating, you know that."

C’mon Daddy.” 

“Tanner why don’t you take your sister over there and get in line, I’ll be right there.”

When the kids ran off, Rance told Carole he’d really like to get to know her better and asked if she would like to come out to the ranch the following afternoon and then they could do the fair barbecue afterward.

She said yes.  “Do you think you could find your way, or should I draw you a map?”  He could see the look on her face. “Now don’t go getting all saucy on me, it’s a simple question.”

“I’m sure I can find it.”  He came up close to her and rubbed his arm down her back landing on her backside.  He gave her three little pats and turned away.

“See you tomorrow, saucy lady.”

Carole hoped she remembered to pack Rance because she was going to need it.

So what do you think?  Should I continue and possibly make this into a book?

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings?