The Miller Report 09252025

 Greetings and Welcome! 
Welcome to Miller’s Mysteries, where the skies are clear, the breezes gentle, and Southington looks like it dressed up just for us. 

The goats are back at the fence line, curious as if they’ve been invited in, while the cats guard their window posts with a mixture of pride and suspicion.

 A rabbit hops by, pretending it’s invisible, and I swear even the squirrels seem to smile when the weather’s like this. I’m already plotting a lineup of Calendar House shows, AMC movie nights, and Hidden Valley mini-golf matches where the real mystery is whether I’ll sink a putt on the first try. 
 
 By evening, you’ll probably catch me on a patio, raising a fork to celebrate life in this little corner of Connecticut.


  • Across my Desk!!

We do not throw away perfectly good food in this house. We put it in Tupperware & wait for it to go bad & then we throw it away.

Wow, I was outside feeding the cats about 10 minutes ago, and a deer went running down our street like a B out of H jumped the bank and into the woods. Don’t know what it was doing out here, but it sure surprised me lol.

Crossing things off my to-do list... I haven’t done any of them, I just don’t want them on my list anymore.

It was a farm stand kind of day — the kind that reminds you autumn is leaning close. At Old Bishop Farm and Hickory Hill in Cheshire, the air was sweet with apples and earth, the bins brimming with peaches, carrots, and tomatoes fresh from the field. I carried home a bag of warm cider donuts, an apple crumble pie too good to resist, and, of course, a jug of fresh cider — the kind that makes you believe every sip holds the season itself.

Can You Really Boost Retirement With Just Ten Bucks?
yard sales => eBay, or market tables
small electronics, phones, calculators,
toys, board games, game pieces, books 
tools, hardware, Snapon tools,
kitchen gadgets, mugs.

12 Survival Items 55+ Seniors NEVER Forget to Stockpile for Weird Winter 2025
cash, candles, instant coffee, wool socks, 
manual can opener, batteries, paper maps, 
winter gloves, boxes of wooden matches, 
address book, candy, wood pellets



  • The Reader
  
  Bella curls into her armchair at 9 p.m., the lamp casting a pool of light just big enough for her notebook and the glowing tablet screen. She balances a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and holds a pencil like a wand in the other. The blog opens, and she reads slowly, savoring each sentence. She jots quick notes, doodling stars in the margins. 
  
  When the lantern story flickers across her screen, she chuckles at the image and makes a teasing remark out loud, as if she were part of the banter. The tea cools, but she doesn’t move. By midnight, Bella feels she’s spent the evening with friends she’s never met.
  
 • Math of the Week

Problems set at the Durham Fair with Jack, Emily, Molly, and Rick:

1. Ferris Wheel Geometry
Jack and Emily ride the Ferris wheel, which has a diameter of 40 feet. If the wheel makes a full rotation every 4 minutes, how many feet does Jack travel along the edge of the wheel in 1 minute?

2. Fried Dough Algebra
Molly and Rick buy fried dough. Molly gets 2 with extra powdered sugar at $6.50 each, and Rick gets 3 plain at $5.25 each. If they pay with a $50 bill, how much change do they receive?

3. Livestock Pen Area
Jack wants to check out the prize-winning cattle, and the rectangular pen is 36 feet long and 24 feet wide. If he walks all the way around the pen twice, how many total feet does he walk?

4. Tractor Pull Ratios
At the tractor pull, Emily notices one tractor pulls 15,000 pounds while another pulls 18,000 pounds. If the smaller tractor’s pull-to-weight ratio is 3, what is the weight of the smaller tractor, and what is the ratio for the larger tractor if it weighs 5,000 pounds more?

5. Concert Sound Waves
Rick and Molly head to the evening concert. The speakers are blasting at 120 decibels at the front row, but sound intensity halves every 10 feet. If Rick and Molly stand 30 feet back, what is the approximate decibel level where they’re standing?


 • Now, This Week's Exciting Story

The Remington keys clacked like a drummer in a jazz band, each clack a punctuation in the dim-lit office. Gus adjusted his visor, rolled his sleeves up to the armbands, and sipped black coffee that steamed like a miniature fog machine. Half a breakfast sandwich waited on the corner of the desk, forgotten for the moment as the story spilled out, sentence by sentence, each word hammered into place.


The Corn Maze Mystery

Rick darted around the corner of the corn maze, his laughter echoing off the tall stalks. “You’ll never catch me, Kennedy!” he called, his Red Sox cap barely visible above the golden tassels. Molly was right on his heels, swatting stalks out of the way, her curls bouncing as she ran. “Rick, you’re cheating! You’ve got longer legs—this isn’t fair!”

Finally cornered, Rick leaned against a rough wooden fence that marked a dead end and raised the basket he carried like a shield. “Careful,” he warned, grinning, “your precious pumpkin cream-cheese muffins are in here. Attack me, and I’ll eat the last one myself.”

Molly gasped and placed a hand over her heart in mock outrage. “You wouldn’t dare.” She sniffed the air theatrically, the sweet spice of cinnamon and nutmeg drifting up from the basket. “You know those muffins are my secret weapon. No one resists them—not even you.”

Rick chuckled, but before he could reply, Molly pointed past him. “Wait—what’s that?” Tucked between two leaning fence posts was a scarecrow, but it wasn’t standing tall like the others scattered around the maze. This one was collapsed in a heap, its straw-stuffed arms akimbo. Rick crouched and frowned, tugging at something that stuck out from its shirt.

“Notes,” he muttered, pulling out a crumpled wad of paper. Molly knelt beside him, brushing straw off the pile. “Who leaves notes inside a scarecrow? Did Farmer Wilson start a new game—Scarecrow Sudoku?”

Rick unfolded the top page and whistled. “Nope. These aren’t puzzles. Look—someone wrote directions. ‘Meet at the south gate after sunset. Bring the lantern.’” He looked at Molly, eyes glinting. “Sounds like our muffins aren’t the only secret thing in this maze.”

Molly arched an eyebrow, clutching the basket closer. “So what’s the plan, Detective Crowe? Muffins first, mystery later—or do we trade pumpkin spice for espionage?”

Rick tilted his head, pretending to think it over. Then he grinned and slipped one of Molly’s muffins from the basket. “Fuel first, clues second. Even Sherlock Holmes needed a snack.” Molly rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop smiling as the October sun dipped lower, painting the maze in warm gold and hinting that the night’s mystery was only just beginning.  The crisp air carried the scent of kettle corn and woodsmoke from nearby fire pits, blending with the earthy sweetness of corn husks all around them. Somewhere in the distance, the midway barkers called out for last rides before dark, and the sound of a fiddle spilled over from the music stage.

Rick adjusted the basket on his arm and leaned closer, his voice mock-serious. “You realize, partner, we’re now officially on a classified mission. Phase one complete: scarecrow extraction. Phase two: rendezvous at the wishing well.”

“Phase three is me eating another muffin before I faint from mystery fatigue,” Molly said, tugging the basket toward her. She pulled out a second muffin, tore it neatly in two, and passed him a steaming half. The pumpkin and cream cheese filling was warm and comforting, like a shield against the weird thrill of the notes tucked in her pocket.

They walked side by side through rows of tall corn, the stalks whispering as the wind slid through them, as if the maze itself were sharing secrets. Shadows lengthened across the path, making each turn feel a little more uncertain, though Rick kept his stride loose and confident. Molly, though she kept up with him, felt her heart beating a notch faster than usual. It was half nerves, half excitement—because, truthfully, she loved a good mystery almost as much as she loved pumpkin spice.

At the edge of the maze, the fairground opened up before them in a riot of color. Strings of carnival lights flickered on, glowing like fireflies against the darkening blue sky. Children raced past carrying sticky cotton candy, their laughter rising above the clop of hooves from the pony ride. Rick tipped his head toward the south gate, and Molly followed, clutching the folded notes like treasure maps.

The closer they drew to the gate, the more Molly noticed the small details that set her imagination humming: the creak of the wooden fence, the cool touch of evening settling on her skin, the faint metallic tang of hay and animals from the livestock pens. Everything about the fairground felt heightened, as if the notes had awakened a secret world beneath the ordinary bustle.

Rick slowed, squinting toward the goat pen, where a cluster of animals pressed their snouts against the rails, bleating into the cooling air. “There’s our shadowy informants,” he said. “You think they’ll crack under interrogation?”

“Only if you bribe them with apple slices,” Molly replied, giggling as one goat let out a long, indignant bleat. She tucked the muffin wrapper into her pocket and glanced back toward the maze, where the stalks now glowed faintly under the rising harvest moon. “Okay, Rick. So what do we do if the next clue actually leads us to something?”

Rick gave her a sideways grin, his eyes catching the last orange streak of the sunset. “Then, Molly Kennedy, we follow it—because every great story needs a little mystery, a little danger… and snacks for the road.”


By the time Molly and Rick reached the barn, the fairgrounds were mostly quiet. Strings of lights flickered above the old wooden structure, casting long shadows across the rickety doors. The air smelled of hay, horses, and the faint tang of autumn mist, and every creak of the barn’s floorboards seemed magnified in the night.

Rick pushed the doors open slowly, and they stepped inside, the warm smell of dry hay brushing against their noses. “I don’t know if it’s the mystery or the muffins, but my heart’s racing,” Molly whispered, half to herself, half to him. She shivered as the cool night air outside tangled with the barn’s warmer interior, making her jacket cling in all the wrong ways.

They scanned the barn. Shadows stretched like fingers across the walls, moving whenever the candlelight they’d brought flickered. A sudden rustle from a corner made both of them jump, and Rick ducked behind a bale of hay. “Relax,” he muttered. “Probably a barn cat… or the ghost of a long-forgotten scarecrow.”

Molly laughed softly, trying to shake off the chill creeping up her spine. “Or maybe it’s a clue… you know, the kind that jumps out and screams, ‘You’re too late!’” She tiptoed toward a stack of crates, the straw crunching beneath her sneakers.

Rick crouched beside her, pulling the folded notes from his pocket again. “The final line—‘Find the hidden trapdoor beneath the lanterns.’ Lanterns, he says. There’s a row hanging near that corner.” He nodded toward a dimly lit aisle of swinging lights.

They moved cautiously, scanning every creak, every shadow. Molly’s fingers brushed the rope supporting a lantern, and a faint click echoed through the barn. One of the floorboards shifted beneath her foot, revealing a small wooden trapdoor cleverly concealed among the hay.

Rick’s eyes lit up. “Well, Sherlock Kennedy, looks like your muffins weren’t the only treasures tonight.” He crouched to pull open the trapdoor. A faint musty smell rose from below, mixed with the earthy scent of old wood and something metallic—perhaps the reward for following these mysterious notes.

Molly peeked down, her pulse quickening. “Are you ready?” she whispered, her hand brushing his as they both held onto the edge. “Because whatever’s down there… it’s waiting for us.”

Rick gripped Molly’s hand as they eased the trapdoor open wider, the creak of old hinges echoing in the silent barn. A cool, musty draft wafted up, carrying the scent of old wood, earth, and something faintly metallic—like treasure waiting to be uncovered.

“After you, fearless leader,” Rick said with a grin, nudging her gently toward the narrow staircase descending into shadow. Molly rolled her eyes but stepped down first, her sneakers crunching softly on dust-covered boards. The flickering lantern above barely lit the steps, but her heartbeat kept her senses sharp.

“Feels… bigger than I expected,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Rick followed, his elbow brushing hers in a familiar, comforting way that made her pulse skip. “Or maybe it’s just the mystery making everything seem larger than life.”

At the bottom, they found themselves in a small stone cellar, lined with crates and barrels. The lantern swung slightly, casting dancing shadows that made the space feel alive, almost breathing. Molly bent to pick up a crate labeled in faint, curling letters: Property of Durham Fair – Keep Closed.

Rick leaned in, brushing hay and dust from a smaller, weathered box inside the crate. “Well, well,” he murmured, “looks like someone’s been hiding something valuable… or at least very interesting.” He lifted the lid, revealing a collection of vintage fair memorabilia, old tickets, and a small, ornate tin engraved with swirls of gold and red.

Molly crouched beside him, gingerly opening the tin. Inside lay a cluster of tiny, polished gemstones, along with a folded note in delicate cursive: For those brave enough to follow the clues, the harvest rewards your curiosity.

Rick glanced at her, eyes shining in the lantern light. “Curiosity definitely won this round,” he said, tossing her a grin that made her stomach flutter. Molly laughed softly, leaning back against a barrel, the warm glow of lanterns and the thrill of discovery wrapping around them like a secret October hug.

“Next time,” she said, tucking a gem into her pocket, “we’re bringing the muffins down here too. Every great adventure deserves snacks.”

Rick chuckled, brushing dust from his hands. “Agreed. But tonight? Tonight we celebrate the mystery—and the find.” He held out his hand, and she took it, the cellar now a tiny world of shadows, laughter, and autumn magic, a memory they’d carry long after the fair lights dimmed.

They climbed the trapdoor stairs and emerged into the crisp night air, the warm glow of string lights twinkling above the fairground. The scents of kettle corn, roasted nuts, and cider drifted through the evening breeze, mingling with the earthy smell of hay and autumn leaves.

Molly stretched, brushing a stray piece of straw from her jacket. “Well,” she said, “that was more adventure than I expected from a corn maze.” Rick laughed, tossing a glance at the now-closed maze behind them. “Adventure? Check. Mystery? Check. Muffins? Well…” He held up the basket with a sheepish grin.

“Don’t worry,” Molly said, pulling out a pumpkin cream-cheese muffin for herself and handing him one. “The treasure may be hidden in a tin, but snacks are the true reward.” They bit into the warm muffins, savoring the sweet, creamy filling as the evening settled around them.

A group of fireflies danced nearby, their tiny lights flickering like the lanterns below the barn. Molly leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder, laughter and contentment bubbling between them. “You know,” she said softly, “it’s funny… a corn maze, a hidden trapdoor, and a few gemstones, and suddenly everything feels magical.”

Rick smiled, brushing a hand across her arm. “That’s October for you. Mystery, magic, and muffins—all in one night.” They walked toward the fair’s exit, lantern light casting playful shadows across their path.

Molly glanced back once more at the maze, its golden stalks swaying in the gentle breeze. “I think this might be my favorite kind of adventure,” she said. “Unexpected, a little spooky, but sweet at the end.”

Rick squeezed her hand, grinning. “And we’ve got proof that curiosity—and maybe a little daring—can lead to the best surprises.” The two of them stepped into the fairground lights, laughter and the taste of pumpkin muffins lingering, the night air filled with the quiet magic of an October evening.



===========SHADOW
After a catastrophic downpour swamped Danbury, bizarre red lights were spotted glowing above the submerged remnants of the town, aberrations amidst the torrents of water. Survivors reported hearing drowned voices calling out their names, luring them into the depths for an eternal embrace. Those who succumbed to the hypnotic whispers vanished, while the floodwaters continued to rise, forever tainting the city with sorrow. As the rains receded, the chilling glow remained, a beacon of what lies beneath that still calls to the lost.
    
SHADOW by Joseph Miller
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B4Z36PS3
Secure your copy now and join countless others who have transformed their lives through these incredible testimonies!




============Space Tales 2
Fear is a recurrent theme across the anthology, where the vastness of space often metaphorically mirrors our own existential fears. Characters face both external and internal conflicts, enabling readers to engage with their own apprehensions about the unknown. As each story unfolds, we are provoked into examining how we confront fear—whether through courage, denial, or introspection—and how those choices shape our journeys in life.

Space Tales 2 by Joseph Miller
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FKHGKSL3
Don’t miss your chance.  Buy your copy today and dive into compelling stories that will keep you reading for hours!


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Visit and enjoy my Author Page 🍂📜 ♣️❤️♠️♦️
https://warlockpublishing.com/author-joseph-miller.html
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============ sponsor

KelDel Creations
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090364412851

Step into a world of color and creativity at Kelly’s booth! Each piece is handmade with love and attention to detail. You’ll find unique art, charming trinkets, and one-of-a-kind gifts perfect for yourself or someone special. Kelly loves talking with visitors and sharing the inspiration behind each creation. Whether you’re browsing for décor, jewelry, or fun keepsakes, there’s something to delight everyone. Don’t miss the chance to see her newest pieces debut at the fair. Stop by Kelly’s booth and bring home something extraordinary today!


The 2025 Torrington Christmas Holiday Festival is Sunday, Nov 9th. Go support our local makers and community! Put this on your calendar!  We look forward to seeing you again!! 


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 • Thank you for stopping by! 

We were so grateful to have you visit us in late September! The warmth of your presence and our shared moments over hot black coffee by the firepit warmed our hearts. Conversations sparked like the crackling flames, creating unforgettable memories. As October approaches, we look forward to gathering again—this time with warm bowls of hot soup!


 • Please do write a comment.  You could, if you dare, ask me a question. If I like it, I'll publish it right here in Miller's Mysteries Blog!
[send to mindmyst@yahoo.com]

Until next Thursday,    
Happy September!!! 

Joe Miller 🍻🍻 🦈️⛳️⛵🇺🇸️🌻🍎

 • Quick question
 
 If aliens landed on Earth and demanded to see our best talent, what would you perform to impress them? I would probably just bust a move to “Dancing Queen,” and hopefully they’d take me back to their planet as the ambassador of disco! Who knew intergalactic diplomacy could be so funky?
 
 
 • weather forecast 
 September 28: Heavy rains, strong winds, and the shocking news that the moon has applied for statehood. Tax implications are uncertain, but meteorologists suggest keeping receipts for lunar cheese purchases. Stay dry, patriots.
 
 • Questions from readers:
 
 Joe, do you write better in the morning or at night?
👉 Neither. I only write well when I’m supposed to be doing something else.

 Joe, why do your characters argue so much?
👉 Because therapy is expensive, but dialogue is free. 


 Joe