Archive | March, 2013

Hint Fiction Friday; Short and Sweet

29 Mar

It’s been hectic the past couple of days. Way too much going on around here. I’ve been placed in charge of concession for Zach’s Musical Event, The Bard and Skard. We’ve been cleaning and prepping and shopping. Whew!

Friday means it is time for a tiny bit of fiction. Let me present this flash:

Tears shone in Chrissie’s eyes. The ring slid onto her finger. Thirty years of love, two beautiful children and she and Joanna were finally wed.

Never give up the fight for human rights. It is the right thing to do.

Happy Weekend to all.

Monthly Meeting of the Minds, Musical Events, and Doggie Doings

27 Mar

Wednesday, the 27th and it is Bunco night! Wooohooo….Hope I win some money tonight!

Motored over to the north side of the river this morning. There is a Joann Fabrics there and I was looking for trim for the ottoman/boxes. Found it! Mission accomplished.

Found a few other things too. Ain’t that always the case. You go to the store for one or two things and come out with two armloads and a backpack full. I keep telling myself I have to stop this. I’m not listening. I am becoming more and more like Grandma. She couldn’t hear worth a tinker’s dam unless you didn’t want her to hear.

Last night Falon mentioned that she was becoming more like her Granny, my mother. I’m talking about becoming more like Grandma. We’ve agreed that it must skip generations. Somebody just shoot me now. Not really. I am not ready to go to go planet hopping just yet. I have to work on that bucket list.

I got up to take a plate to the kitchen and found this:





Bob says that just ain’t right. I’m amused. What better place to rest your head than between your best girl’s back legs. Right?

Zach has been planning an outdoor musical event for this Saturday for quite some time. Rain is forecast. In a brilliant move, he and Bob have used the pool cover to create shelter. First the kids drove a few t-posts into the ground and a bit of rebar in spots that didn’t require as much height. Then PVC plumbing pipe was placed over the posts creating an arc of pipe. Then the pool cover is secured to the pipe. Good thing the pool will be opened soon.

We used PVC and T-post to create arches for Falon’s outdoor wedding. It works beautifully. Such fun to repurpose and reuse the things we have lying about. Yup!

Bunco will begin soon.

Be seeing you on Thursday.

Marriage Equality, Tuesday, and Fluff Fiction

26 Mar
It is right.

It is right.

I wish I had posted this earlier to show my support. It is here now.

The past couple of days have proven that nothing is ever easy. Whew. I’m skipping Tuesday next week if it’s going to be like this one.

Today, I’m sharing a very short story. It’s what I like to call Fluff Fiction. It’s prose, but I would compare it to the silly, idiotic poetry I like to compose. It’s a keyboard exercise for my fingers.

Try not to laugh..I know. It’s lame. I should have been more tuned to today’s import as I was writing. Ah well…another day.

Thomas’ girlfriend Janna left him at the altar. Well in a manner of speaking. She actually left him standing on an Atlantic beach in South Carolina with his best friend and best woman, his sister Josie. Oh, and incidentally, a crowd of 100 friends and family gathered to see them get hitched.

Thomas, Josie, and friends had been waiting for thirty five minutes. Josie looked up attempting to squash her fidgety nature. At least the weather was cooperating at a balmy 70; very light breezes, sunshine, and a gorgeous display of waves and egrets. The tables and awnings were set for the reception. The flowers were a startling array of red and white and green. It was beautiful.  But, none the less, the bride was missing and Thomas’ looked like a scolded puppy.

Now Josie had a mission.

She was inclined toward justified anger and retribution for the woman what done her brother wrong. However her better judgment allowed that something could have triggered this untoward behavior. Her future sister-in-law appeared to be madly in love with Thomas. She doted on him. But here and now on the lovely April afternoon, she just up and disappeared.

Josie accepted her mission. She tossed off her sandals, hitched up her skirts and flew toward the beach side hotel with an ‘I‘ll be back’ thrown over her shoulder toward Thomas.  She had to find the floozy, uh…free spirited.. Janna and bring her to justice, or more accurately to the altar beach.

She tore through the spa, zipped past the pool, cleared stack of towels with room to spare, took the stairs to the hotel’s back guest entrance two at the time and landed in front of the elevator.

She pushed the button. No way was she going to take 15 flights of stairs and arrive at Janna’s door unable to breathe.

Much toe tapping ensued as she anxiously waited for the elevator. It arrived. Her ascent was marked by only two stops; one for a manager on his own mission and one for an elderly woman going the wrong way. Josie nodded at both politely.

She arrived at the fifteenth floor and found room 1507. She knocked. She waited.

She knocked again. She waited.

She moved very closely to the door, stuck her face up the jamb, and whispered loudly, ‘Janna, it’s me. Open the door.’

She waited. She looked around. Where else could the bitc, uh, woman be?

As she turned to search elsewhere, she heard the click of the deadbolt, then a long pause. She slowly rounded back toward the door and witnessed Janna’s drooping head appear.

‘Is he really mad, Josie?

‘He’s not mad Janna, he’s just confused. Why aren’t you on the beach?’ Josie asked.

Josie traipsed behind Janna into a room tumbled with bridal detritus.

‘I’m not worthy Josie. I can’t torture Thomas for the rest of his life. I just can’t. I’ve been thinking about this all morning.’

‘Geez, you waited till now to consider your worth? Are you nuts?’

Janna looked up with a stricken expression and Josie reconsidered her abrupt comment.

‘I’m sorry. Can’t you just go through with it and then get a divorce later? I mean all these people are here. You might as well give them what they came out for. Who knows, after it’s over you may reconsider and stay married. He does love you.’

‘I love him too!’

Janna’s wail probably echoed through Georgia.

Josie’s patience, in short supply at the best of times, hit bottom.

‘Oh, good grief, then what’s the problem?’

‘Wellllll. Did you see Uncle Al with his belly hanging out of his shirt and all that fake gold around his neck? And Cousin Angel with 2 babies hanging off her boobs?  And my own sister with the greasy-haired punk and the tattoos and pierced nose and eyebrow and..

Josie interrupted.

‘You have a tattoo. I have a tattoo. Thomas even has a tattoo, although a tasteful and discreet one. What’s the deal?’

‘It’s just so embarrassing to have a family that look like rejects from the latest back-ass Southern  country reality show.’

‘Good thing he’s not marrying your family then, isn’t it?’


‘Get your veil Janna. We’re going to a wedding. You’re just skittish. It’s okay.  Let’s do this.’

‘If you think it’s okay, Josie.’

‘Geez Janna. Where’s the go-get-em girl that makes life and death decisions every day. You’re a friggin’ doctor Janna. Get a grip.’

‘Yeah. Right. I am. Yeah. I can do this.’

Josie’s eyes rolled around for a bit and settled on the veil. She grabbed it and Janna’s arm and headed for the door.

‘Wait, my shoes!’

‘You don’t need shoes on a beach Janna. It’s showtime!’

And they ran.

Thirty minutes later Janna and Thomas were pronounced Mr. and Dr. Roswell.

Mission Accomplished.

Projects Completed, Potty Depleted, and Euphemisms

25 Mar

Yesterday I bounced from project to project. I mended two shirts and a jacket. I built a box for an ottoman/file box and almost completed a second one. Just require one more piece of MDF and a few minutes to knock that out. I watched two movies, played Words With Friends, roasted a chicken, cleaned the kitchen, and tore apart a toilet.

Bob helped with that last thing. But said toilet was left in the middle of my bathroom, useless. We couldn’t find anything wrong with it. I called this morning for the septic system to be flushed and drained.

Life, just outside the city limits, is interesting.

I’ve been running around, as Grandma would say, like a chicken with my head cut off. First it was chauffeur service for Zach. I waited for class to end, then we went to the bank, then to the doctor for his prescription, then the pharmacy. Home. Back to the bank. Home.

The septic vacuum arrived and it took about ten minutes and nearly $300.00 to discover that I should have picked up a simple drain snake. Oh well. Way more than a snake, but less than a plumber!

Drained. The loo awaited its repositioning.  A trip to Home Depot, a lot of frustration, and way more time than I wanted to expend,  and the potty was perched in the proper place with only a bolt left to file. It won’t receive its nut. That nut will have to stay unthreaded for another day. I’ll have to find the file.

I’m getting too old for this crap.


I remember a time when a group of friends spent a few minutes one evening tallying as many euphemisms for toilet/bathroom/going,  as we could. Here’s a short list. Please feel free to leave your fave in the comments.

The John


Water Closet



The Throne

Little Girl’s Room

Little Boy’s Room

Porcelain Pond

See a man about a horse

tee tee

pee pee


What a nasty way to end a post. Perhaps I can clean it up tomorrow.



Hint Fiction Friday

22 Mar


Etsy for 03.22 and 03.23 001

On Me Old Wrist!

On Me Old Wrist!

Here’s a little piece of jewelry being offered in my Etsy shop. Crocheted and beaded, with a magnetic clasp, the bracelet measures approximately 7.5″ long x .75″ wide.  If you have a wedding in your future and would like one in white or would like one sized differently, please request a custom item on the left side of the shop page! Now on to Hint Fiction Friday.

Actually, today is more Flash Fiction Friday. Hope you like it.

Gracie was always careful to make his sandwich just so, with butter and bologna and white bread. He would mumble and growl otherwise.

She kept the butter on the counter to keep it soft. She bought plain old sandwich bread at the grocer. It wasn’t her preference and so she kept another loaf of wheat bread in the refrigerator.

This day was a special day.

Gracie took out the white bread, carefully spreading butter on both slices.

‘Are you ready for lunch, Joe’, she asked politely.

There was no response and Gracie expected none.

Gracie removed two slices of bologna from the package and returned it to the refrigerator.

‘I have the chips you like so much my dear. Junior brought them for us on his visit yesterday.’

She cut the sandwich in half diagonally and placed it on a plate, adding chips to the side and walked to the kitchen table. She set the plate on the table and removed two napkins from the holder. One was placed beside the plate and one was placed across the table from Joe.

Returning to the refrigerator, she retrieved a bottle of ginger ale. It was Joe’s favorite. She picked up a glass.

She slowly returned to the table, grunting a little with the effort to put one foot in front of the other.

She sat across from Joe and opened the ginger ale.

‘Here we are Joe and you’re still drinking ginger ale.’

She took the top off the bottle and slowly poured the ginger ale.

‘And I still love you’.

She picked up half the sandwich, reached for his hand, and placed the sandwich in it.

‘Share this with me Joe.’

He didn’t respond. She didn’t expect it.

Tears slid down her cheeks, pooling in the well-worn crevices and folds that spoke of life lived, children raised, hard times fought.

This was a special day.

‘I’m going to miss you, mostly at night. You’ve been keepin’ my backside warm for a long time. I’ll see you as much as I can, Joe. I’ll think about you every minute.

Joe, I’ve kept our memories. I think it’s time I passed them on to the kids.’

She smiled softly through her tears, her words barely a whisper.

‘I’ll be joining you soon, I imagine.’

She took a bite of the bologna and butter sandwich, winced.

‘How in the world do you eat this? I’ve been asking for sixty-one years and you’ve yet to say. ’

He did not respond. She didn’t expect it.

Dracul, Lists, and Dreams That Be

21 Mar

Once again…welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.”
Bram Stoker, Dracula

Rumania beckons. I’ve begun exploring the language. Can you imagine speaking the language of Vlad! It’s a romance language and sounds sort of French/Spanish. At least he sounded sexy while removing heads and imbibing spirits and making war.

Rebecca at is joining us! Are we gonna have fun or what?

What’s the going rate for airfare to Bucharest?  Well….according to TripAdvisor it’s between $1479.00 and almost $3000.00. Whew.

We will accept donations.

I see myself there….it will happen.

I’m going to continue making the bucket list. I know that imagining it, will make it happen. We’ll make memories…we’ll see things that others take for granted but that awe and inspire us. It’s Discovery and History Channels live and in person.

I can’t wait!

Busy, Barn Latched, and Kitty Housing

20 Mar

As our fearless leaders met to determine the fate of the world, I shopped for shoes, meds, groceries, and small bits of hardware, including 3/8 x four-inch lag bolts.

Yeah, I am that amazing. I know what a four-inch lag bolt is and how to use it.

In this case, I’m using them to replace latches on barn doors. Actually I’ve replaced the latches but used four inch eye hooks. I didn’t have the bolts at the time the work was done. Now I just have to exchange one for the other and the doors can be latched! Easy peasy.

Recent adventures have certainly kept me busy.

Monday night we decided that Ashe Kitty is probably not returning. We moved the cat house to the side porch for the barn cats. There are two barn kitties left now after 13 years dedicated to spaying and neutering every stray (and their kittens) that showed up. Bob will feed Mama Kitty and Boots in the cat house (which I lovingly constructed just for Ashe) in hopes that Bunny will no longer eat the cat food and thus lose a few pounds. Dog has a fat ass…takes after me.



Betcha didn’t know I ran a cat house did ya?

I’ve always said if I could sell it by the pound I ‘d be a rich woman.

And I will leave you this Wednesday with that thought.

Dreams May Be

19 Mar

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. – Mark Twain

oh, if I had taken this advice well over 20 years ago… My adventures were short-lived and rather mundane in the general scheme of things. I found myself lacking the confidence to throw off the negative, biting voices in my head and my heart.

I really didn’t find confidence and a sense of adequacy until I was in my fortieth year. One decision changes a world. A moment of indecision changes a life.

Today I am going to begin my bucket list. I figure I will never perform on Broadway, but I can experience it vicariously once again. I may never again have the opportunity to work at Radio City, but I can enjoy a show there. I may never make a million dollars, but I can live as though I have. I can see things I haven’t seen and do things I haven’t done.

Visiting Romania is on my list. I have to find Vlad. I’m fascinated. I saw Dracula on Broadway a very long time ago with Frank Langella as the toothy one. It was so sexy! Sherri says she’ll go with me. A-hunting we will go into the Carpathian Mountains, Transylvania, and Bran Castle. I wonder how many vampire jokes we can come up with in a month long journey….hmmm. No doubt they will be many and varied.

I will take a three wheeled motorcycle through the heather in Scotland and visit Northern Ireland and all the locations Game of Thrones has used.

I will visit British Columbia.

I will sleep on a beach one evening, just for fun.

I will take a helicopter over the Hawaiian Islands.

I will travel the States from coast to coast and take a train to San Francisco.

I will travel by train through Europe.

Just think, if it comes down to it, I can do it all from my desk, except for that Romania thing. That will be in color and in person.


If you are young and have dreams, follow them for all of us who chose a bit differently.

We will cheer you on.

Adventures, Biscuits, Barrels, and Bunnies

18 Mar

We’ve been on adventures since Thursday. I’ve described the compost adventure.

Saturday’s adventure to Bauxite for barrels certainly proved entertaining. Falon arrived at the house just before 9. I hadn’t even begun her biscuits and gravy breakfast, having wasted my morning sleeping and playing Words with Friends.

Breakfast was soon in order, however. Biscuits and gravy being the most requested special occasion breakfast in our household, I can whip ’em out pretty quick.  Clothes on, trailer checked, adventure began around 10. We stopped for fuel and cash and followed the Garmin. The Garmin was seriously screwed. It took us the back way to Bauxite. Being in Bumfuzzle was not a new experience, but certainly a lengthy one. We did finally arrive at our destination and proceeded to argue about who was going to knock on the door.

‘You’, she said.

‘No, you’, I said.

‘No, you’s’ were spoken several times before we settled on both of us and opened the doors.

First we were greeted by Sarge. Sarge was a fairly large, albeit terribly underfed, German shepherd. We discovered his name upon finding his house labeled on the front porch.

A very young guy answered the door, told us where to go, helped load our barrels, and watched while we bantered back and forth while attempting to tie down the unwieldy plastic barrels, barrels smelling of water sweetening syrup in various flavors. I think raspberry was our favorite.

We made it about 2 miles down the road, this time without the help (?) of the Garmin, when the barrels shifted. It was time to stop and rethink the ropes and cords.

Which is just what we did!

We were on our way again. Another couple of miles passed and the damn things shifted again. This time we got really aggressive with the rope. And we decided the freeway was definitely out.

So, very sedately we proceeded.

While traveling and keeping an eagle eye on the ten big blue barrels in the trailer, we discussed Jack and Jill. Jack and Jill are Falon’s bunnies. They inhabited a small space in the house, occasionally being let out to run, and weather permitting let outside to play through the winter. Spring having sprung and allergy season upon us, the bunnies were being housed outside…in a pen that was scrapped together. She wanted one that was easier to navigate, thus a stop at Tractor Supply.

And finally we arrived at her house to drop off the new bunny cage and five barrels.

She took my cup to fill with ice. I headed to the bathroom. Midway, I hear a shriek and an exclamation. Apparently the bunnies have escaped into the yard. Now we are in jeopardy of losing the rabbits to the woods behind her house. We’ve arrived just in time to avoid catastrophe.

I chase out the back door. Jack is hovering around looking lost. I open the door wide and the little bugger runs in and disappears under the bed.


Now where is Jill?

Nowhere to be found.

We searched the yard. We gave up. Wild bunny.

I get my ice, untie the barrels, pull five off the trailer and begin to tie up the remaining five.

Jill has been spotted. I know this because I hear another shriek that indicates it is so. We hit the backyard again, finally spotting her moving into position behind the hutch. I wait. Falon gets a towel. The bunnies don’t like to be picked up, so the towel prevents scratched arms.

We corner the little bitc, uh bunny. Finally she is carried, kicking and scratching, into the house space reserved for bad bunnies and put on ‘no toy’ status. Bad bunny.


The barrels were tossed over the fence along with the new cage which attaches to the hutch and we started for home.

The rest of the family was regaled with the tale. Except for Simon who was on a six hour mountain bike marathon, putting in an estimated 50 miles before it was all over…

I slept the rest of the afternoon.

I think I’ll put off my next adventure for a couple of weeks.


Hint Fiction Friday, Manure, and Projects

15 Mar

Hint Fiction offering for this Friday, March 15, 2013

Karen quit smoking 35 years ago. Joe’s eyebrows soared when she sat and lit a cigarette.  ‘It makes no difference now,’ she said.


Zach and I left for class at 8:30 this morning. We returned at 3:30 this afternoon.

Now you might ask what one hour long class could possibly stretch into a 7 hour marathon. I will grant you that History of the English Language could indeed have manifested into an all-day event. However, such was not the case.

We had a side adventure. It was a side adventure involving British accents, compost, and a University agricultural station.

It all began last night. My daughter called with a request. Would I, could I please go with her husband Simon to Lonoke to pick up a load of compost for his garden boxes.

I’m such a pushover. I agreed. Said agreement found me hooking the trailer to Bruhonda this morning at 8:00 a.m. or thereabouts, proceeding to drop Zach at class, making a stop at Harbor Freight for a large tarp, and stopping again at Subway for a couple of breakfast sandwiches, retrieving Zach, and then moving on to pick up Simon.

The British accent, in the form of Simon, sat in the back seat. He had found free compost through his current assignment with Heifer at the University of Arkansas-Pine Bluff agri station in Lonoke, some thirty miles from us.

We drove on. We loaded compost. Actually the guys at the agri station loaded it for us. We just tried to hold the tarp in the wind until the first scoop landed in the bed of the trailer. Ah, the smell of manure in the morning made pungent and sweet by rising Arkansas temperatures.

Upon return we found, yet again, that maneuvering that trailer in a cramped space between trees, bushes, large rocks, and a couple of pipes buried for horseshoe playing is not something I’m good at.

Oh well. We managed to unload it with Zach and Simon doing most of the work.

Then I got greedy. I wanted a load for us too. I listened to Zach bitch and moan. He went back with me anyway.

That second load was heavier than the first. It took 4 of us to unload that one. We’re very fortunate that Bob and Tony were home when we got back.

Poor Bru. He burned through a tank of gasoline getting those two loads of dirt back to Little Rock. It was still a bargain!

And tomorrow Falon and I are taking Bru and the trailer on another adventure. This time Bruhonda is headed to Bauxite for ten 55 gallon barrels. They’re cheap. We are making rain barrels and compost barrels.

I can’t wait.

So far this week I’ve only added 3 new projects to the over-filled lists of projects.

I’m way ahead.

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