Another success!

In daily living our successes often seem small and insignificant. When we maintain a journal, we can clearly see where much more occurred to our good credit than we might have been aware of. We have many adventures, I am telling all of you, throughout the day. Your surroundings are like a stage or a story plot, with you in the center! In the end, when everything else around me crumbles into dust, I still have my writing. That why I am a firm believer in everybody developing some sort of artistic talent, be it whatever it may. When all else crashes one may then throw himself into his creation.


Some rough stuff!!!

I have much to speak of today, but little time to say it. I love writing, publishing, books, and other people who do also. I am here on this Sunday in B&N Bookstore writing, submitting, and posting. Tell me what you think of the poem chapbook above. Hearing from my fan base is very important to me. Truth be said here on this space, without you, the fans, there would be no famous musicians, movie stars, politicians, presidents, kings, and authors. From what I used to hear way back when I haunted his home turf, Andy Griffith might have forgotten all about you folks who made him what he was, but I haven’t! I could drop a line on much about ole AG, but not on this little writer’s blog. I’m shocked some person hasn’t published a book on it, but I do know ole AG was protected by some high and mighty people.

I must make a two-hour run all the way to Orlando at midnight. Its frigid as my ex-wife and raining like the floods of Noah outside. The wolf has no consideration for logistical concerns when she plans her flights. She goes out at comfortable, manageable times, but comes back in when it’s an absolute dog for those who must be there to pick her up. I wanted to work tomorrow, but I suppose I can do so on a pot of coffee, eh? Living on the edge can be dangerous at times, don’t you think?

Drop me a line! Cheers, and happy reading and writing.

A few more words in passing

It’s been a little while since I’ve written. Here we are wallowing around in central Western Florida for the time being. I expected loads of real employment opportunity here. Man, how I can never go wrong! They have a grand horse and pony show, so let me tell you all about it. You can just see the loving emperor’s great Thanksgiving and Christmas cornucopia of genuine middleclass opportunity all around you. This place really puts the magnificent city of OZ to shame! Although to be perfectly honest, I will say that I have yet to meet a tin man. All of you should come check it all out! Everything is so inexpensive here. I mean, single apples for only two dollars apiece, whole cartons of eggs by the dozen for only five dollars, men’s basic haircuts for $60.00, a price so low it will make you want to cut your own! Gas is a measly 3.60 a gallon, for crying out loud around here! When it increases its only by 10 to 20 cents a week. This place is an American heaven, especially if you originate from somewhere in California or Boston, Mas’.

Anyway, I am working at Labor Finders for the time being now. I can get buy on this and still take time when I choose to live an adventurer’s life. The beach area here really is fun. There is so much to do here, festivities going on, nice live band clubs by the beach to visit. This area has many book launches going on, and literary events. These are my favorite parts about it. I prefer the beachside dive bars, with the two-dollar draft and the 3-dollar hotdogs and hamburgers I can load down with slaw, pickles, hot sauce and onions. So, it is when one lives his life on the edge!

A few more titles

Please take a glance at these titles. There are great bulk rate discounts. Sales have been decent, since everybody loves an unusual read. Be sure to share them, and any others on this blog. Be sure to share the blog link and post it anywhere books are sold, and readers gather! Purchase copies and place them inside the Little Free Library in your areas, donate them to libraries, drop them in distribution bins that service libraries, request them at your local bookstores and county libraries, distribute them in your classrooms, carry them and display them at local festivity events! In short, feel free to leave them laying around or display them anywhere literature loving people gather!

The work below is an anthology of many stories published by CC&D Magazine. Be sure to notice the work by H.L. Dowless! Following this will be several more anthologies published by CC&D Magazine. Notice my name and story, then purchase your bulk rate discounted copies today! This story is a quasi-true deer hunting story, many years old. “A “Fine Day Inside My Hole in the Wall”

Here is another CC&D anthology with a vendetta-story I wrote about an interesting person and situation that may or may not be true. I’ll let the reader decide the fate of this one. Get your bulk rate discounted copies today! Be sure to share these links far and wide! “La Vendetta Di Le Sournois”

Here is an outstanding Christmas story written by H.L. Dowless. This anthology carries part one, it seems. “The Tale of Gringo El Loco.” Get your bulk rate discounted copies today!

This anthology contains the second part of “The Tale of Gringo El Loco, a Christmas Saga.” Get your bulk rate discounted copies today! Be sure to share and like, when possible. Periodically, I offer works at no charge to frequent repetitive customers. Specific information available upon request.

Here is another anthology published by CC&D Magazine with part one of “The Tale of Gringo El Loco,” by guess who? How or why part one is published inside two separate anthologies by the same company, I haven’t a clue! Get your bulk rate discounted copies today!

Stay in touch with the publishing and ever-growing bookstore branch of SR&H Enterprises. Check out our company logo! The photograph is very real. The publishing company’s name is Rowdy Living Press. We have plans to make the bookstore an actual brick and mortar business catering to adventurers and artists as no other anywhere does, but can’t do so without you, our customer and fan base! As always, a big THANKS for all that you’ve done for us thus far. We live to take the grim falls, the hard rolls, and the brutal punches life on the edge throws at us, so you won’t have to! While all of you-kind folks, have the luxury of easing back into your comfortable beach cottage chairs and reading about our spaghetti piles and grand spider webs, we have to unwind from around us. You deserve all of the pleasure without the pain, would you not agree? Come on now! Cheers, and happy reading.

Titles on sale now!

Check these killer prices out. Buy them in bulk if you own a store or display table.

Demand has been very high on the book below. It was selling for a mere ten dollars, but it’s still much lower than it has been. To prevent tyranny, we must always be aware of the possibility existing for it. It’s not a criticism of America, but a warning for remaining at attention, and soon. Get the bulk rate deals while you can!

Below is another book that has been a good seller. The price isn’t bad for what one gets. It’s a collection of unique children’s stories, poems, and photographs. It’s published for the reading public’s pleasure by Rowdy Living Press. Get the bulk rate discounts today!

If potential readers have children, then this link below is designed for you! Like unusual nighttime reads? Check it out! The price is set at a very decent rate for the quality one gets in the purchase. Own a store or a display table? Get bulk rate discounts today!

Another collection of children’s stories below! All of these stories are some passed down by elders, and others born from the imagination.

The book below has an interesting history. More than 20 years ago I was employed in the Carolinas as an EC teacher for three years. The department head at the school I was employed at was known as the Witch of Drowning Creek, respectively. Without a doubt, she had a foul, bitter personality, and hated her job. Nobody understood how or why she chose to or even managed to remain employed.

On that note, my first day she seized me by the left arm, marched me down the hall to an empty classroom, rudely shoved me toward the teacher’s desk; then informed me that no materials existed, to include books, yet I was expected to instruct the students in all subjects or endure termination for nonperformance of assigned duties. I had five days to come up with something, she told me, and no materials could be purchased, since the school had no funds to do so with.

So, I did all that I knew to do, and began writing. I took children’s stories I had written for my own children, and crafted exercises from them. I got a week ahead of myself during these five days without students. When the year ended, I had organized them into this book. Not only were these stories and exercises used in EC classes, I also used them during my days as an international ESL teacher. One four-month summer abroad the wife and I traveled throughout Ecuador and Peru, giving lectures and selling copies of this book. It sold like hotcakes, we made it into the local news, and we recouped all of our traveling expenses in so doing. This work still has decent sales to this very day. Get your own copies in bulk for the discount, while it’s still possible!

Since I Last Wrote

My dear reading family,

I do apologize for not writing more frequently. Must of late, has been happening in my living and writing world. For one thing, I quit my work at the property I was employed at. The company I was employed with sold out three times during the year and a half I was there. This busted my retirement and my benefits back to the start. I also never received any raise. My pay was 16.50 at the end, as it was when I hired in.

My dear wife wanted to relocate back to Ecuador, since she retired in January of this year. I was game. I had nothing to lose, since my job was playing out anyway. I put in my notice, and away we flew. I think I made detail specific notes in regard to this earlier on. We stayed there for three months. We hooped a plane to Florida, hopped another to San Francisco, then hopped a ship to Hawaii, and had a blast the entire time! I won’t shoot anybody any twisted lines; we had a grand time!

Once everything settled down, we visited children and my parents for three weeks or so, then we motored down to Florida. We’ve settled in for the time being around central Florida. Come February, we shall glance backward, and if we are not contented with our lives, then we’ll jet back down to Ecuador. I know I can land employment at the best of academies then. Check my latest books out! I used a new pseudonym.


When The Hooch Runs Out

Many ladies walking on the boardwalk, dancing to the music, swaying to the beat. I’m eating food, listening, watching, getting used to it, dealing with the heat.

The wind blowing across the water, the sand in the air, the sun beating down, while the breeze tosses my hair. Ambling down through the bamboo town, sampling the wha-tita, walking all around, moving with the sound.

Ah, the water sways me, placing me into the surrounding fish schools I see, rocking me back and forth, like a I was on a sea horse. I feel so cool, my mouth still drools, for the taste of the red snapper, and the squid supplied by the sea side trapper.

Into the water he drops a clay amphora, pulling up large crab, and eel for the food store. Sometimes a sea bass, sometimes a lobster, without any bait, are taken every day.

Many ladies, many bodies, many thin bathing suits; go on dancing, continue prancing, while a five string bands plays the reed flutes. The tide is rising, the scene is thriving, there is gold on the hill, oh what a thrill.

The lines are forming, money is moving, when gold fills the room, before the hooch runs out at noon. The little man is smiling, many in the line are sighing, while so many are buying before the hooch runs out at noon.


Well, I’m out again by the pool at 0914, out again where the parakeets scream. I’m outside again where the day is clear, with my dolly sitting beside me so near.

Well Fie fo fum I see the morning sun, yeah today might still yet be lots of fun. Sounds of traffic in the distance I hear, but behind stone walls and barbed wire we have nothing to fear.

A breakfast of large sardines, rice, and black beans can make one’s soul turn our very clean. The smell, however, will make a preacher’s wife scream. The heat of the day can make a grown man shed a tear. Washed down in sweat even a saint will sling his head, buck, and rear.

Everybody all over are wanting money, so we both must run. What amazes me most is that the day has only begun. We must hit the road, and carry our load, before the pickle truck comes and the whistle blows.

So run over here Sally, shoo fly shoo, there are cabs to catch and so much still yet to do. In praise of the day I sing my song. I must make my mark cause I won’t be here long.

Outside in the distance I hear monkey sounds and cooing doves, better cook your meat well and use rubber gloves. There are head hunters in the woods and poisoned arrows in the air. Buried treasure in the ground, and I will meet you out there .

Wow, AND away!

Tuesday, 7/26/2022

Well, its a real stuck in the mud day. We awoke, had breakfast, then went walking. The administration area is closed. We have no internet access. There is not much around to do. We put together a bed. We watered flowers. We bathed, and we lounged around.

Real life is like that sometimes. Life can’t be all action and excitement, especially when one is on a limited income such as I am. 3 grand must get me all around here, and to Hawaii and back. I’ve sure played and done it all in my day. I had a publishing success story. I signed a contract with a company to publish my story, Bartolby Hill, in a Christmas anthology. He wanted unusual stories, and I had one to send to him. Nobody has ever written a Christmas story like the one I did. I made 40.00 dollars on it. I am not getting rich, but who knows who might get hold of that story. I was based on a grain of truth.

My mind loves to drift, since often I am thinking of my next poem, short story, or novel. An idea for another novel is gradually coming into my mind. I want to write a realistic Gothic style of horror novel about a man with a ghostly lover. Since I am here in Latin America I am getting ideas in regard to the scenery.

The community is filled with concrete houses surrounded by Bastille walls. The houses have large Doric columns on the front porch patio, and massive wooden double doors. In the center of the Doric columns hangs crystal and gold plated chandeliers. Scenes of the Virgin Mary and of the Crucifixion passion colorfully scream out from above the huge massive double doors. Many of the windows are crafted from fragments of glass colored emerald, sapphire, amber, and gold. Few windows have picture scenes, only the colorful tint described.

The porch areas and the areas leading up to these homes are covered by white, black, and gray pewter tiles. These homes seem to be based on the same designs found in the ruin of Pompeii, and Italy at large. The Italian Villa style is dominant, and one that truly pulls at my own heart, as if it has soul. Shattered glass of many colors sitting atop the Bastille wall intimidate like snarling fangs out at all those who walk on the street passing by. Electric fence and barbed wire make the lives of potential thieves even more complicated when it arches above the knife-like shards of kaleidoscopic glass. The magnificence of these homes may be viewed through the bars of iron gates in various places along this large granite stone and white concrete wall.

The environmental spirits applaud the design of these homes. This supernatural cheer is evident in the dance of clear red, blue, and purple flowers found on vines growing all over this wall, as far as any walker can see. This general union with the gray and off-white stone, blended with the white of the concrete mortise, melds into an astonishingly natural panorama scene, rather than contrasting against any type of lucid secular order. The eternally guarding glass-shards and the evil angled electrified razor wire, add a certain elegant spice to the mortal scene, being tinted back, gray, and silver, rather than crimson, orange, or bright yellow, which lash out against the spirits of nature.

Upon every roof is cemented orange or brown tile. Some have an emerald appearance, resembling more the tint of fresh bamboo sections slice in half the long way and turned upside down, than any type of porcelain. This color marries the home at large more with the puffing wind, the dancing flowers, the date palms, the colorful ibis lilies of multiple varieties, and the perfectly trimmed carpet grass.

In the center of this community the walker is impressed with a large open park-like garden of palm trees, elegant steel and wood benches, head high palm flowers, and perfect awe inspiring hand-chipped statues of ancient Spanish and Greek gods, standing near small pools of water. Upon the arms of these statues often hangs the guarders of newly wedded couples who have taken their vows, in beseech of celestial blessings throughout their marriage. Two cups of blood-like rose wine and servings of bon-bon sweets, seals the deal according to local custom.

How does it sound thus far? Did the visuals establish a mood, that gradually sets a scene? Stay tuned for more tomorrow.

Monday 7/24/2022

Not much has happened with the festivities going on. Sometimes its best to hang out around home. Yesterday we played around the pool and walked into the local market. Almost all of the stores were closed. I bought a pint sangria and a coke for six dollars. We had company come over. It was Monika, a supervisor at the local English academy, Copal, and Maryam with her two adult children. It has been maybe seven years since I have laid eyes on these people. I can’t believe how much everybody has gained weight and show their age. Most of these people are 60+. I am the only young stud still in his 50s.

Saturday, 7/23/2022

What I Did This Morning

I woke up this morning, took a swim in the pond, showered in a water fall, with snow capped mountains towering beyond.

Don’t know what I’m going to do, don’t have much of a plan. I’ll simply put on both shoes, after I play here in the sand!

I’ll take my next step, put one foot in front of the other, move where the good feeling leads, soul passion is my only rudder.

Might I go into future glory? Or head into looming disaster? What on earth shall be my final story, since fated destiny is my only master?

The end for all is the same regardless. Who knows their own conclusion? Its just that I intend to live more, not less, without any distracting illusions.

Took a good swim inside a divine nectar pool this morning, before a mountain waterfall. Made love upon the flat stones until my heart sang, while the emerald parrot made his cheerful call.


Yes, I must repeat myself here again today. Life damn sure is good, and keeps on getting better when our minds are geared into it doing so. At 1200 we taxied out into town, meeting with the Head of Tourism in Guayaquil. Her position is more important and status laden then the mayor himself. She sits at the right hand of the president himself. Most importantly, she was a past student of my wife. She was happy to see both of us, giving us invitations to sit on the formal dock during the famous yearly Parade of Guayaquil, known as Festias Julianus. My bet the origin is from Spain, and dates much farther back in time than the city of Guayaquil itself, but this history is a topic for another blog.

Once we received the invites inside the elegant city hall, we made our way over to the naval meeting building. We walked inside with the city dignitaries in between two lines of uniformed navy men at attention, and in salute. We took our seats inside the reserved sections underneath the shelter by the water. There was the parade of boats, with the military recreating rescue scenes and capturing water born invaders, who drop mysterious packages in hoping to retrieve them later on. I will bet readers can never guess what might have supposedly been inside those packages, with Ecuador’s northern neighbors being who they are, not to mention Peru to the south.

A float of the natural fauna and the revered heroes sailed past. Finally a military gun boat, and several motor boats armed with 50 caliber machine guns mounted on swivels zoomed past, waving at the crowds on dockside. There was also a huge sail boat mounted with guns sailing past. Evidently the Ecuadorian military still uses these, as they are still known to maintain a horse bound Calvary. The general sensation and atmosphere is starkly reminiscent of the 1920’s, far as I am concerned, which is fine by me being of the romanticist philosophic mindset that I am. The parade ended with the chief naval captain being presented the flag of Ecuador, and the Head of Tourism being presented the flag of Guayaquil. It truly was amazing as to how well loved this lady is. Without a doubt, one day in the future she shall have an effigy christened in her eternal memory.

When the official parade ended, the general parade continued on throughout the city of Guayaquil. Make no debate about it, this is a huge event where the entire city formally shuts down, from Saturday through Monday. Making one’s way through town via taxi or bus is a near impossible task to successfully accomplish, as we found out. It took us two hours to find a taxi out to the formal birthday party of a friend’s friend. In the meantime we watched the parade down town. There was a concert, more colorful floats, venders roaming about selling all sorts of great tasting pastries, drinks, cold water bottles, popcorn, and various snack foods. There were trinkets of every type, from native designs on down to the junk from China found all over planet earth these days. Thieves abound during these events, so put all phones away safely, all money in travel belts and front pockets. I felt several hands rub my hip pockets as we passed through the huge swelling crowds, but all they felt was my bandanna. The Mallecon is said to be a huge haunt of the low classes, so bear this in mind when walking about. Covid 19 is still a fear here, but I never even wore a mask unless police ordered me to. If I was going to get it I would have long since had it by now.

Finally our anticipated taxi flashed his lights as we roamed about in the streets of the city. We hopped the cab, riding to a nice community far outside the city of Guayaquil. Here was a dear friend of a friend having a very formal 65 year birthday party. The hors d’ oeuvres were good, being sausages, tortilla chips, and dip sauces of various sorts. Half way through the celebration the host who the party was for, stepped wrong on the two six inch wide, by two inch steps, positioned perfectly in such a way to throw a person face down upon the concrete and marble floors. All over Ecuador, inside and out, one must be careful of such sudden irregular uneven drops in the hard surfaced areas. When the lady collapsed face down she busted the side of her head open on the marble floors and walls. She lay on the floor for fifteen minutes or more, until myself and the only other man present helped her up back onto her feet. She appeared to be dazed the entire evening. No doubt, she will have a good black eye come tomorrow, on into the next several days.

Before we cut the birthday cake every person present had to choose a word dedicated to this lady, named Patricia, then make a spill dedicated to her. My selected word was comfort. I wrote this word in a slip of paper. My spill was that since I had only met her that night, and knew nothing about her, what I did know was that she had a great fall. My inner feeling was that she would need much comfort for the following three days, as a result. My good news was that this situation would change in the end, and that I wished her all the best. I took my slip of paper and taped it to a tree with all the others, since I was last to make my spill to her. I hope I chose my word and spill well.

Finally we cut the huge cake. Everybody took a piece, then washed it down with coffee. The birthday party ended with singing and a benediction prayer. Monica carried the wife and myself back home. The ride through Guayaquil took maybe 40 minutes, so got to see much. Her speed was around 80 km per hour, which is 50 mph. It seemed like 100 mph to me in that crazy driving place, but one must do what one must do wherever they are.

We made it back home around 2300 hrs. The wife and myself sat out on our porch drinking toasts of wine kin our under ware and listening to songs from a party down the road. Finally we crashed around 2400, or midnight.