Breaking the Rules

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  This is day 29, and the next to the last day of this incredible writing challenge and those who are still standing will be weighing in with today's prompt is breaking the rules.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who's breaking the rules.

I've never been much of a rule breaker - too afraid of getting in trouble I guess.  I did break the rules once in kindergarten but I've already confessed that in "Black Eyes and Tutus".  I learned early on what can happen when you break the rules.

Rules are made, rules are broken, and somehow life goes on and more rules are made. 

I leave you now with a few quotes on what other people think about rules.

Rules are not necessarily sacred, principles are.
- Franklin D. Roosevelt

The young man knows the rules, but the old man knows the exceptions.
- Oliver Wendell Holmes   

You don't learn to walk by following rules. You learn by doing, and by falling over.
- Richard Branson  

Principles and rules are intended to provide a thinking man with a frame of reference.
- Karl Von Clausewitz

No tendency is quite so strong in human nature as the desire to lay down rules of conduct for other people.
- William Howard Taft

I had these recipes that say do this, do that. Who MAKES these rules?
- Emeril Lagasse  

There are no rules. That is how art is born, how breakthroughs happen. Go against the rules or ignore the rules. That is what invention is about.
- Helen Frankenthaler

 

Learning to Eat

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is day 28 of the writing challenge and those who are still standing will be weighing in with today's prompt, the turning point.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to turn on to some great writing.

Today's prompt is the turning point.  That should be an easy topic to write on, right?  We've all had at least one, and probably many smaller, less significant ones.  So what is a turning point?  I found this definition:  When an action or an event takes a turn for the better or for the worse, or changes direction.  This could mean getting or losing a job, getting married or divorced, moving out or moving in, among other things.

Dinner at Waltz

I've experienced all but one of those, but perhaps a more significant turning point was food related.  I learned to eat!  No, not really, but it seemed that way.  My Mom was a great cook and everything she put on the table was delicious, however as a kid I didn't always like it and if I didn't like it (or thought I didn't like it) I didn't have to eat it.  My father was not an adventurous eater, and so Mom's repertoire was limited.  After fixing something once that he didn't care for, she vowed not to serve that to him again.

So I entered adulthood still thinking Mexican food came from Taco Bell, and wouldn't dream of eating Chinese, Japanese, Indian, (real) Mexican, German, or any of the other cuisines I now enjoy.

Then, when I was in my mid 20s, enter my boyfriend, who is now my husband.  He liked all these things and more, and wanted more than just meat and potatoes.  He took me to a Mexican restaurant called Casa Galliardo's, and that was the beginning of my conversion.

Before that going out meant seafood or steak.  With my newly discovered taste buds, I even became more experimental with seafood, and pretty much if it swims, I'll at least try it.  Well done steak - forget it!  I've eaten crawfish and alligator, and tasted kangaroo and ostrich.  I found I like spicy foods too...who knew?  Indian and Thai, bring it on.  Jerk and Cajun, yum!  Our most recent discovery is a lovely little authentic Greek restaurant. 

That was definitely was a major turning point which has made for some really delicious meals.  We like to say that we vacation for food because we like to check out all the local specialties.  So I say thank you to my husband for broadening my culinary horizons.

Waltz Seafood at John's Pass

My Worst Christmas Ever

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is the 25th day of this mind-bending challenge, and I can say that my mind is both challenged and slightly off kilter.  Today's  prompt is Worst Christmas Ever.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who is still standing.

For most people Christmas is a happy time, filled with family, friends, big dinners and gifts.  Houses are decorated with lights of all colors, lawns filled with lighted reindeer, inflatable Santas and snowmen.  Holiday music begins and stores display large festive trees long before the Thanksgiving feast is prepared.

This is what we know, what we expect, and what fills us with the Spirit of Christmas.  However, sometimes things happen in life that changes that feeling.  Events beyond our control take over our thoughts, control our actions, diminish our joy and leave us feeling sad and blue.

That was the case in 2002.  Christmas was just weeks away when we discovered that my Mom had an electrolyte imbalance and had the option of drinking about a gallon of Gatorade or going into the hospital for a few days to get her sodium and potassium levels back on track.  We chose the hospital...there was no way she could drink that much Gatorade.

This was temporary and she would be home in a couple days.   OK we can fix this.  I arrange for ambulance transport because it would be the easiest and safest way to get her there.

We got her sodium and potassium back in line, but then there were more problems and by the time she'd been in for a week, she'd lost too much strength to go home alone.

At that point I faced what had been, thus far, the worst day of my life - the day I put my mother into a nursing home.

This was the middle of December and I visited her every day.  While we knew she had some issues, we still felt that after some physical therapy she could return home.  That wasn't to be.  On the night before Christmas she had taken a downward turn.

Two days after Christmas on December 27, she passed away when we had stepped out for a few minutes to get lunch. 

We all know that death is a part of life, but to have to face it over what is supposed to be a joyous, happy season is even more difficult.  Not once but twice have we faced the loss of a loved one at Christmas.  We lost my father-in-law just this past year several days before Christmas after two separate stays in the hospital.  Like my Mom, we thought that he too would recover and go home.  It wasn't to be in either case, so we each have a worst Christmas ever.

Cheers to You!

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is Day 24 and the prompt is Roast or toast another blogger.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who everyone's talking about.

Today we are supposed to either roast or toast another blogger.  I remember the Dean Martin Roasts, and they were funny but I don't possess the wit or talent to roast anyone properly.  The other option is to choose someone to toast.

Well, there are so many deserving folks that choosing one would not be possible or fair, and since this was not 30 days of roasting or toasting bloggers, here is a partial list of the many talented, funny, and highly entertaining people I have come to know through the wonderful world of blogging.

While I have created categories, I would say that there is much crossover among these multi-talented individuals.

Most photographic
Hilary from The Smitten Image

Hilary hails from Canada and takes the most amazing photographs of just about anything that strikes her eye.  Her nature shots are so clear and with such detail, you feel as though you are looking at them in person.

Most engaging 
Jayne from Injaynesworld

Jayne is a unique individual with a great sense of humor.  She has written for TV, and is a published author of the the book "Suitable for Giving".  She loves horses and living a quiet life in her mountain-top retreat.

Most poetic
Jannie from Jannie Funster

Jannie takes the ordinary and paints pictures through poetry, and is a talented song writer and singer.  She is artistic and creative and loves hanging out with her adorable daughter.

Most family oriented
Katherine from Shoot Me Now

Katherine shares her family stories, her trips to the beach and even her embarrassing moments with us so that we feel like family too.

Most Challenging
Nicky from We Work for Cheese

Nicky is the hostess of our 30-day writing challenge, and aside from her passion for shoes, is a funny, talented writer who can make the normal everyday life interesting, and also creates great fictional characters through creative writing. 

Most hilarious
Babs from Babs-Beetle

Babs shares the most hilarious, fly-on-the-wall moments so charmingly.  She and Mo have cracked me up so many times with their videos.

Most entertaining
Meleah from Momma Mia Mia Culpa

Meleah entertains us with her family drama, her Dad stories, her son, and her novel writing adventures.  They are a close-knit bunch and it seems there is never a dull moment in her home.

Most insightful
Sara from a sharing connection

Sara writes fiction with a flair, poems, and does the most interesting photo challenge posts.  She posts a picture and poses questions for the reader to answer, thus challenging their creativity.

Most adventurous
Linda from The Good, The Bad, The Worse

Linda's life on the edge stories are always funny and entertaining.  Her love of her husband, her family and her animal companions shows through in her posts. 

Best storyteller
Talon from Talonted

Talon is indeed talented.  She writes poetry and short stories, accompanied by some wonderful photographs. Like Hilary and Nicky, she also lives in Canada.

All these folks deserve a huge round of applause for keeping us entertained, making us think, and sharing the beauty of the human experience.  I would be honored to hang out with each and every one of you!

The Stilettos

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is Day 23 and the prompt is Stiletto Heels.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who's still standing.

In the little town of Shewville lived Spike Stiletto, his wife, Hotstuff and their teenage daughter, Kitten.  They were new in the neighborhood having moved in during the Spring season.  Spike worked at the tannery and Hotstuff modeled during the Fall and Winter seasons while Kitten was in school.  Life is good in Shewville, and they visit occasionally with their neighbors, the Phlats and Lowfers.

That was until Spike stopped off on his way home from work for a drink at the Golden Spur.  Across the room, pounding on the bar was his cousin, Blade,  from across the tracks.  His tanned face was leathery from working in the sun.

Blade had always been a troublemaker, and there he was dissing Spike's friend Crock, saying that the new house he had built looked like it had been cobbled together out of scraps.

OK, thought Spike, that's enough, getting pumped up.  I'm going to teach that heel a lesson.  Grabbing his beer bottle, he strode toward Blade who barely noticed Spike until they were nearly toe to toe.  Blade, not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, started in on Spike.

"What's this cloak and dagger routine, cousin?" sneered Blade.  "Think just 'cause you're Italian you're better than me?"

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, cousin, as he raised his bottle.  Blade ducked just as Spike raised his bottle, successfully blocking the blow, and sending the bottle to the floor, shattering it.  Spike lunged, stepping on the broken glass, slicing his sole. 

Undaunted and still wanting to sock it to Blade, he grabbed him by the collar jerking him off his feet.  Blade was by no means a small man, but Spike was a half size bigger, and hauled him, kicking and flailing toward the door.

Spike then turned his cousin around and gave him the boot, sending him face down into the street.  Blade landed unceremoniously at the feet of none other than Sandal, the prettiest girl in town.  She laughed and said "you really stepped in it this time, Blade."

If There Were No More Tomorrows

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is Day 22 and the prompt is Like there's no tomorrow.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who's still hanging in there.

What would you do if you woke up in the morning to discover that this was your last day on earth, that there would be no more tomorrows? I don't know because I don't like to think about that.  Ideally, it would go something like this:

I suppose the first thing I'd do is cry a little because, well, I like my life.  Then I would decide that is a waste of precious time, and tell my husband to stay home, and we would spend the day hanging out.  

We'd get breakfast - pancakes, or bacon and eggs, or maybe doughnuts at a table on the sidewalk.

I could choose to go some place exotic, but who wants to spend any part of their last day sitting in a plane?  So instead we would go to a park and walk beneath tall trees that were here long before I was born, and will, most obviously, be here when I have departed.  

I could go to a rock concert, that would be fun, but who wants to spend their last day in a crowd of screaming people?  So instead I would watch the squirrels and chipmunks play and listen to the birds sing.  

Strangers would come and go walking their dogs, not knowing or caring that there is no tomorrow.

I would hug my husband and tell him how good my life has been for having him in it.  

I'd pet my cats, and watch the clouds pass lazily overhead.  

I love this life of mine, and I would take a moment to count my blessings.

I would marvel as the sunset paints the sky with colors too beautiful to describe.  

I would not sleep, so as not to miss a single moment of my day.  

And then should I be granted a reprieve, and see the sun rise yet again, I would take to heart the lesson learned.  

We should live our lives thoughtfully, thankfully and fully every day, because we never know when there will be no more tomorrows.

And that is how it should be.  In reality, however, I am a fighter and would probably spend it trying to figure out how to fix it.

No Favors

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 21st day of crazy-making fun and the prompt is Favors I'd ask of satan.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more creative exploits.

I am having a real problem with this one, so all I can say is:

Get thee behind me satan.

I don't make deals with the devil, or ask him for favors.  

Going Solo?

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 20th day of crazy-making fun and the prompt is Going Solo.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more creative exploits.

When I think of going solo, I think of doing something grand, special or brave like taking that first flight without the instructor, or giving a performance.  I think of taking on some great adventure alone.  I don't have any experience with such things.  No, going solo for me is attending a social function without my husband, or going parasailing (back in the days before they had tandem flights), or maybe when I rode my first bicycle without training wheels. 

Since I don't have any special solo events with which to entertain and fascinate you, I present to you someone who does.  Dixie Carter.  She entertained us as Julia Sugarbaker on Designing Women (1986-1993), a sitcom about four strong Southern women in the interior design business.  

She portrayed a strong, yet genteel, Southern lady who was always willing to stand up for family and friends, and when something got her riled, she really laid it on the line.

But perhaps what I remember most is her rendition of "How Great Thou Art".  In this episode she was to sing a choir solo, but was afraid she wouldn't be able to hit the high notes.  Charlene was having issues with her church and it's prohibition on female ministers.  It was important to her that Julia sing this song for women everywhere.

 Dixie Carter as Julia Sugarbaker singing "How Great Thou Art"

Dixie Carter passed away in April 2010.

Bananas Risque

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is The Awkwardness of the common banana.  This is day 17 of this never-endng challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for some delightfully fruitful stories.

Banana Candle Salad

What would you think about a banana stuffed into a pineapple ring, smeared with mayo and topped with a cherry?  Let's just say it was not all that appealing, and left us feeling rather awkward.

The setting was Christmas back some 20 or so years ago.  We were visiting my in-laws over the holidays, and my mother-in-law, bless her heart, decided to make a special treat for us.  She found the recipe in a magazine or old cookbook (we didn't have the internet then) and proceeded to assemble her creation.  When she brought them out, we stared in disbelief at the somewhat suggestive looking item being placed before us.  Being the tactful people that we were, we tried to hide our...uh...amusement.  As you can see it's a rather risque looking dish.

We were holding back our laughter pretty well while we tried to figure out how to tell her just what it looked like.  That is until my brother-in-law exclaimed "that's a nasty chancre on that thing".  At that point we all burst out laughing, and had to explain what was so funny.

Interestingly, the banana candle recipe was originally published in several 1950s cookbooks for children. More recently I saw this recipe and picture in a popular spice catalog.  Apparently it was more common than we thought.

So tell me what you think - Yum or Yuck?

In the First Place

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is First Place.  This is the 15th outrageously entertaining day of this challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more winning stories.

I am struggling a bit with today's prompt.  Taking first place, winning contests, competitions, sports, spelling bees are not things I ever did.  While other kids were joining teams and taking lessons, I was playing outside in the yard by myself or with my family.   There aren't any awards for that.

However there were rewards.  I was an only child, and so my parents were my best friends.  Sure, there were some neighborhood kids, but most were boys and somewhat older than me.  This made our family really close.  We played badminton, kickball, grilled out (that's a barbeque for some of you), had picnics and had lots of fun.  These things were worth more than taking first place in any competition.

First place had another meaning.  Mom would occasionally use it when I should have done something differently, or that the outcome would have been different, if I had I listened to her "in the first place".

Now I leave you with a few contenders for my choice of first place.  First, may I present my hubby, who has survived over 25 years of marriage to yours truly.  That is no small feat to be sure.  You see he brings home the bacon and I eat it.

My wonderful hubby

And in the snuggle-bunkins category, we have three fabulous felines.  While they are all friends, what you probably won't see is Sophie and Dood in a snuggle like this.

Rosie and Sophie

Rosie and Dood

To me they are all winners, which makes me the biggest winner of all.

The Ant and the Lion

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is The Short Hairs.  This is the 14th mind-numbing day of this challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more entertainment.

frank.itlab.us

There are a lot of these in my yard.

Image source:  Wikipedia

Fortunately there are a lot of these too.

Antlions, or rather antlion larva, as I learned from my research.  Otherwise known to me in my childhood as doodlebugs. They are called doodlebugs because the twisty winding trails they leave in the sand while looking for the right place to make their traps look like someone doodled in the sand.

They hang out in inverted cone-shaped dwellings in loose sandy soil, and feed on ants. It is interesting to watch them "build" their traps.

When complete, they lie in wait for the unsuspecting ant to drop in for dinner...not knowing he's the meal, thus having the ant by the short hairs.

Image source:  Wikipedia

This is what they become.  

Does this meet the criteria for today's topic?  If you were the ant, what would you think?

25 Years in my Kitchen

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is In the Kitchen.  This is the 12th mind-blowing day of this challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see what everyone else is cooking up.

A lot has happened in my kitchen.  This has been my kitchen for over 25 years, and it is pretty much the same as it was the day we walked in for the first time.  There's a new fridge, that is it was new in 1992, and a new dishwasher about 13 years ago. In our house new is a relative word.

I learned to cook in this kitchen, something my Mom wanted to teach me years before, but I said "I'll learn when I need to"  Foolish me.  I did absorb more than either of us thought, which gave me a good background for learning.  I've learned a lot in my kitchen, like how to handle a knife, and make a sauce that doesn't break.  I've learned about herbs and spices and how to create my own dishes.

The cats are fed in the kitchen so there's always cat food on the floor.  When our cat, Missy, was sick and wouldn't eat, I made cat food smoothies and hand fed her, seated on a chair with a towel pinned around her neck.  She stoically accepted the food - until she had had enough.

Games have been played and friends entertained at the kitchen table.  Wine has been drunk and many conversations had that lasted long after the food was eaten and the plates had been cleared.

There have been messes and spills, broken glasses, and many experiments.  There have been cuts and burns and, yes, a few curses.  There has been laughter and tears over the years in my kitchen, which means there has been a lot of living in my kitchen. 

If your home is your castle, the kitchen is it's heartbeat. 

What's the story in your kitchen?

The Babysitting Blues

free digital photos.net

The first use of the term "babysitter" was recorded in 1937, but it wasn't until 1947 that it was used in the verb form to "babysit".  Babysitting only became common in the mid-twentieth century.  It was a way for teenage girls to earn money.  Prior to this, if a couple were affluent enough to afford to go out, then they had a live-in servant to look after the children.  Those without servants generally lived near or with family or extended family who could then help with the children. 

From babysitting sprang many other types of sitting such as pet sitting, house sitting, and care for the elderly.  We have engaged sitters for our cats.  As with human children, we would leave feeding and care instructions, emergency phone numbers and our vet's information.  Sitting is sitting, whether for humans or pets, allowing the parents to have that much needed night out, and pet owners to take their vacation without worrying about the "kids".

All this talk of babysitting brings to mind one of my favorite movies of the 1980s - Adventures in Babysitting in which Elisabeth Shue stars as Chris Parker, the babysitter.

The movie begins with Chris getting ready for her big date, who cancels with some lame excuse about his kid sister being sick and he has to look after her.  With nothing else to do, Chris accepts a job babysitting for Sara Anderson.  Add her brother Brad, and friend Daryl into the equation and chaos ensues.  A quick trip into the city for ice cream ends up a hair-raising adventure of a blowout, eluding criminals, facing down a street gang, and rescuing Brad's sister, Sara, as she clung to the outside of a skyscraper, narrowly missing Brad's parents at the party.  Chris' mad driving skills get them home with moments to spare, and no one was the wiser.

What did Chris get out of this?  Well, she found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her, and met someone new when Sara had to use the bathroom and they ended up at a frat party.

All's well that ends well, don't you think?

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Babysitting.  This is the 10th day of this madness.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more interesting revelations.

Magic Carpet

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Magic Carpet.  This is the 9th day of this madness.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more flights of fantasy.

Here we on Day 9, the long-awaited opportunity for some good fictional fantasy, and what have I got?  Nothing!

Image Source: Wikipedia

So, what I can I say about magic carpets?  

Great gas mileage - duh, no gas, it's magic.

Avoids traffic jams - they're above all that.

Time saver - no speed limits.  You have arrived at your destination.

No problem parking - just roll it up and sling it over your shoulder. 

No license required - no waiting at the crowded DMV office.

Physical ability needed - can you sit or lie down for short periods of time?

Cost - Priceless! 


What can I say, some days I am running on empty. 

My Best Friends

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Best Friends.  This is the 8th day of this madness.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more great stories.

There are many kinds of best friends, girlfriends, buddies, husbands and wives, even our pets.

My best friend for life was not always my best friend.  I was 10 when she was born, and no 10 year old is friends with a baby.  She lived next door, and during my teen years, she wanted to hang out with me, which, as you can guess, annoys a teenager.

When she was about 12, I came to see that she was smarter than most kids, not book smart, but smart in the ways of people.  She had an insight and intelligence beyond her years.  We soon developed a friendship that has lasted over 30 years, through college, marriage (both mine and hers) and many moves.

As I said in the beginning, there are different kinds of best friends.  Ashley is my best girlfriend, and I love her like a sister.  My husband is also my best friend.  We met on a blind date February 5, 1986 and have been best friends ever since.  Both of these are forever relationships.  

On another note, not all best friends are human.  For the last 15 years I have shared my heart, my home, and usually my pillow with my cat, Rosie.  Anyone who reads here regularly knows Rosie from his picture, which I use as my avatar (he's just cuter than me).  

Feeling the Pressure

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Pressure.  It is now day 6; only 24 days left, to check out these great stories.

It all started around the table at dinner one night.  A friend says "Guess what I did last weekend?  My son and I went shooting.  I hadn't been shooting at a range in years.  It was great!"

That was the beginning.  Shortly afterwards a group of guys, including this friend and my husband met for breakfast one Saturday and went to the shooting range afterwards.  Hubby came back sporting a target, and telling who had which guns, etc.  

After several more trips to the range, it was planned that I join them.  I had expressed an interest in the past about learning to shoot, so here was my chance.  Let me just say that I was very disappointed in my first performance.  For some reason I thought I would just go in and whack the crap out of the target.  Other than my inexperience, I was using shooting glasses from the range.

Two weeks later!

I wasn't giving up however, and the next time, with my own glasses, I showed improvement.  This gave me the courage to agree to take a gun course.  Not just any course, but a concealed carry course complete with training not only in gun safety, shooting, but in the laws and how they apply to personal defense.  This is important.  Guns are not the first resort.

We received our training materials, a book and several DVDs.  After reading the book and viewing the videos at least two times, hubby and I went over a practice test.  I had managed to improve my accuracy in shooting so I was ready...at least as ready as possible.

The day came, and with butterflies running rampant in my stomach, we walked into the classroom.  The very first thing was a 20-question written test.  I passed...with a 95.  We had a gun safety lecture, an oral test and target practice.  So far so good.  Then came the shooting qualification.  

We had to fire a certain number of rounds into the target.  I can do that...no problem, right?  Well, let me tell you that practice is practice, but the test is totally different.  The instructor stands there and tells you how many shots to fire in a given number of seconds from different starting positions.  

I was waiting my turn, watching the others and getting more and more nervous.  "I don't belong here" I said to my husband.  The pressure was on!  We were the last two to shoot, and you know what nervous waiting does to one's ability to think?  Yep, I blanked on everything I had learned.  My hands were shaking and my mouth was like paste in spite of two cups of water before entering the range.  I stood wrong, held the gun wrong, rushed my shots.  You name it, I screwed it up.  I didn't know how many shots I had fired, or how many had hit the target.  I was feeling pretty down and afraid I had failed and failure was not acceptable.  Everyone else had passed.  I was afraid I would be the only one not to pass because I was so nervous.  Did I mention that all but a few people in the class were our friends?  More pressure!

You can imagine my relief when he handed me the target and said "here you go, you passed".  It was over and I got my certificate.  The pressure I felt was all pressure I put on myself.  Still, I'm glad I did it for the sense of accomplishment.  We can do whatever we set out to do.

So I Thought I Could Dance?

 Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is They played my song.

The night they played my song!  Or better yet, the night I embarrassed myself by turning into Disco Duck.   We were at a friend's wedding reception.  You know the fancy kind at the country club with an open bar and a dance floor...need I say more?  I do?  OK, the kind where the bride's father just smiles and empties his wallet, and then when asked about the reception, just turns his pockets inside out.  Yeah, that kind.

We knew a small handful of people there, but with the open bar, were enjoying ourselves.  Finally, I got hubby to join me on the dance floor.  I don't remember what was playing at first.  It didn't matter. It was a chance to dance, and, social occasions being few and far between, I liked to take full advantage.  

I expect the first few dances were the slow kind were you just kind of hug around in a circle on the dance floor, trying not to step on each others' feet.

allposters.com

And then, all of a sudden as if by magic, or as if they could read my mind...wait for it...

Stayin' Alive from Saturday Night Fever.  At the first note there was instant recognition, my eyes lit up, I grinned, and my feet took on a life of their own.  Everyone else disappeared.  It was just me and the music.  I no longer cared what anyone thought, or how ridiculous I must look.  I had to dance.  I had the moves.  I was in the groove. 

Sadly, the night was nearly at it's end, and the party was winding down.  I remember thinking it was cruel to play that at the end of the evening when I was just getting started.

As we made our way to the car, my feet, that were happily ready to dance the night away, now without the pull of the music, were sore and aching.  So much for Disco Duck.

We made some good memories, and I still love to dance when I get the chance.

This is what you get when I write at 1:30 a.m.

Mental Roadblock

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is A Roadblock.

 

There are all kinds of roadblocks.  The ones we see on the street are easily overcome by a detour directing us around the event that caused the blockage.  

Bloggers face roadblocks too.  We stare at blank screens until our eyes glaze over like the remnants of yesterday's donuts.  We mark out endless lines of slumber-inducing stories written after too much indulgence has turned our brains too mush.  Mental roadblocks are the worst because there are no detours, no signs and no one directing our mental traffic around the barricades.

Now let's check in with Bonnie Blogger to see what's on her mind.

Nothing.  That's what's on my mind.  It's blank!  My mind is a total blank.  I am supposed to write a post every day for 30 days and what have I got?  This is only day 2 and I am blanking out. I've got nothing here.  Geez, what was I thinking? 

What I thought was that having a goal would help me get back on track, get back to my blogging roots.  I mean you can only depend on picture posts for so long.  But no!  I have a list of 30 pre-selected topics and I totally freeze.  The cheese has already been devoured, and the next course food-related topic isn't until day 12.

I can probably use my cats for days 7 & 10.  Day 8 is easy, and 18 is probably good too.  Day 30 is a common saying around here. 

There should be a day devoted to wine.  Oh wait, I think that's day 26, and I don't know if I can hang on that long.  Who came up with these crazy prompts anyway?  I know, I know, they asked for suggestions, but did I offer any?  Noooo, I just sat back and waited to see what the powers that be decided we should write about.  

I could be writing about a tropical paradise, about lying in a hammock sipping exotic drinks from a pineapple with fancy little paper umbrellas and being fanned by handsome natives whose only English consists of "yes" and "would you like another"?

I could be writing about...well you get the idea.  But no, I had to wait and see.  Therefore, I am at the mercy of two insane creative folks and their equally insane creative list of topics.  All of which are barring my way to scoring the coveted 500 point post.  Major mental roadblock in progress.

Likely by the time this is over I'll need to get on the waiting list for therapy since I hear those who took part in the last challenge are still there.  

So, there sits Bonnie Blogger, gulping copious amounts of drinking wine and weeping over an crumb-covered plate once filled with cheese, desperately wishing she had two mildly amusing words to put together.

Beauty in the Sky

Some sights just demand you run and get your camera, or in this case my phone.  This doesn't do justice to the beauty I saw in the sky that afternoon.

This was taken a few days earlier, after a rain shower.  The sun has to but cast his rays upon the earth to make us smile with wonder. 

The camera doesn't lie, but it doesn't always pick up the subtleties we see with our eyes.  Still, we have the pictures to remind us of what our eyes saw.

Miss Molly

If you ask me about any of my feline friends, I would say he or she is or was just the sweetest thing.  These are the words of a true cat lover.  Yet they are all different.  Each cat is a unique entity with his or her own special personality.  Each has their own way of bonding with the people they share their homes with.  That's right, nobody truly owns a cat.  They let us live with them.

This was Molly.  She was a very special lady, long and slender with a tail to make any cat proud.  Molly came to live with us when she was 3 1/2 years old.  Her story is told in more detail here.

 

1998 - 2007

As you see, she liked to help me at the computer.  I would be sitting there working on something, oblivious to the world, and feel this tap on my leg..."Hi Mama".   Other times she would just launch straight to the back of my chair.  I would be startled, but she never missed.  This was her way of bonding with me.  It was our special thing.

Like most cats, she liked the high places, and would frequently be found sitting on top of the bookcase.

I'm on top of the world.

Am I not just the sweetest thing ever?

We miss you, Molly!