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.

Stealing Away

edwebproject.ortg

Beneath the midnight desert sky

On his camel he did ride

Away to see his lady love

Beneath the silvery moon above

He went to sweep her off her feet

But her daddy he did meet

Because of this lovely damsel

He nevermore will ride his camel

You see the gal that he did seek

Was the daughter of a Sheik

She bid her daddy leave him be

Instead he hung him for all to see

The princess cried for days on end

Knowing her heart would never mend

How could her daddy be so cruel

She longed to escape his rule

Then one night to her surprise

She could not believe her eyes

Stood the man for whom she cried

The man she knew had surely died

The noose had slipped and he was free

He owed that to a friend you see

Who was handy with his knife

And owed this man his very life

Now the princess bride to be

Hopped on his camel and they did flee

Happy now with her intended

This is how the story ended

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 19th day of madness fun, and the prompt is Camels.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more stories...will that be one hump or two?

Also posted for dVerse poetry.

Let's Sail Away

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Setting sail.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more stories as we set sail on the 18th day of this adventure.

The Quote of the Week!

There is nothing--absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.  - Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Our good friend Bruce had invited us to go sailing on Saturday, and I knew that would fit today's prompt to a T.  It was a picturesque day at the lake, with a light breeze, well make that breezy with 14 mph gusts.  I don't enjoy a lot of excitement on the water, so I had my qualms about a peaceful sail.

Hubby (left) with Bruce

This is Bruce's sailboat, a Newport 16, complete with a cabin, which is stored on-site at the lake.  He purchased this last year and knew both of the previous owners.

Discussing the finer points of sailing

Now where does this rope go?  Just kidding.  Hubby is a former member of the yacht club, and Bruce has recently joined.

Raising the sail

The wind wreaked havoc on me gracefully donning my life jacket, but after several tries, I got it on with the buckles on the outside.  

Bruce's wife, Dixie, has now arrived, so it's time to get this show on the road, or rather the water.

 

Me, or at least my feet

Since I am always behind the camera, this is what I got of me.

Dixie relaxing

We are underway, the breeze is blowing and we gals have stretched out to enjoy the ride. 

Oh what a beautiful day!

The sky is clear, with just a few clouds gracing the sky.  The breeze which seemed a bit much in the beginning was just perfect to keep us moving at a leisurely pace.  All was well until the boom let loose came crashing down.  Just a minor blip [scream] and all was quickly restored to normal.

Approaching the dock - full speed ahead! 

At the lake, the wind is up then down, the up again, depending on Nature's whim and where you are on the lake at that moment in time.  In other words, the wind is with you one minute and agin you the next.

Here we are approaching the dock.  The wind picked up a again at that moment.

Our thanks to Bruce and Dixie for an enjoyable afternoon of sailing and friendship.

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?

The Little Red-Top House

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Hanging out in the cemetery.  This is the 16th day of this challenge, and we've passed the halfway point.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more telling tales from those still hanging around.

OK, now not only do we have to write about cemeteries, but about hanging out in them.  Over the years I have come to terms with cemeteries and their necessity. Cemeteries are both a part of life and death.

There was a time, however, when I studiously avoided anything to do with them.  During my teen years, my parents bought plots from a nearby cemetery that was just being developed.  It is a perpetual care cemetery which means a fund has been established for the continued maintenance of the property.  Many of the cemeteries are not allowed to have headstones, but have flat markers instead which give the cemetery a uniform look.

Getting back to the point, I thought it was morbid to even talk about cemeteries, much less buy plots, vaults, markers, and all the other things that go along with the process.  To talk about it went way beyond my coping ability.  I couldn't bear to think of my parents' passing from this life.  At that age it was a lot to comprehend, and being as close as were, it would have been devastating to me.

They, on the other hand, saw it as practical and economical.  They were right considering all those necessities cost about twice the price when purchased "at need".

Daddy would refer to their plots as the "little red-top house".  Honestly, I have no idea where this came from.  Any mention of the great beyond was known as going to the little red-top house.  Before that he called it "the happy hunting ground".  No, there is no Native American ancestry on my father's side that I know of.  It's just what he said.

Mom liked to go visit the cemetery where her relatives were buried...I thought it was creepy, almost like it was tempting fate just to be there.

Now that both my parents have moved to the "little red-top" house, I no longer find it creepy.  I still don't go very often, but with age comes a bit of understanding, and now I know what they did back then, they did not only for themselves, but for me as well.  Bless them for having made their plans years before they needed them.  By the way, they bought 4 plots.  I guess they really were planning ahead.

Now I neither like nor dislike cemeteries, but I seldom hang out there.  Ironically, I did work in the cemetery office for about a year...up until they made plans to move the office to the actual cemetery grounds.

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?

The Other One

Choices, changes

Life rearranges

He chooses

He loses

Should have chosen

The other one

Choices, changes

Life rearranges

Now he knows

And he chose

The other one

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is The Other One.  This is the 13th mind-numbing day of this challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see what everyone else chose

Also posted for dVerse Poetry.

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?

Quote of the Week

 

Nothing builds self-esteem and self-confidence like accomplishment. - Thomas Carlyle

Accomplishment is like a shot in the arm, a boost of courage.  You immediately feel better about yourself, and when you feel better about yourself you can accomplish more. It is a continuous circle. The more you do, the more you can do.

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is A Sense of Accomplishment.  This is the 11th day of this challenge.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to read the accomplishments of the other participants.

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).  

In Excess?

Uggboy*Ugggirl

There was a Canadian Princess

Who for now shall remain nameless

She loved her high-heeled shoes

Bought in varying hues

Some might say to excess

 

 

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Excess.  This is the 7th day of this madness.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more tales of excess.

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.

Spiders

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Spiders.  It is now day 5; only 25 days left, to check out these great stories.

Ack, this is a really big spider!  Meet our house guest for the weekend.  He (or she) was a really good house guest (for the sake of the story we will assume it's a male).

We were visiting with friends for the weekend, and we had our choice of sleeping quarters, so we chose the accommodations at the top of the road because the A/C was supposed to be COLD, and with me being just short of volcanic, I figured that would be best.

In the main cabin we had dinner, drank wine and talked, as good friends do.  Our hostess's charming aunt and uncle, who lived nearby, joined us as we waited for the last couple to arrive.  The wine flowed, stories were told, and the evening wound down in anticipation of the next day's activities.

We walked back to the trailer, and shortly after getting settled in for the evening, we discovered our house guest.  Wow, that's a big spider (loud exclamation) and then "where's my camera".  Now I'm not afraid of spiders, but I would greatly prefer that they remain outside, and I will use lethal force against a home invasion of the eight-legged critters.  One this size, though, I prefer to just persuade to leave, and by that I mean have my husband remove him.  We grabbed a broom to entice him out the front door.  Alas, our attempts to evict him failed, as he skillfully evaded us under a bookcase or some other piece of furniture where we couldn't get to him.  

This was probably the hottest weekend we could have possibly chose to get together.  Now that doesn't have anything to do with the spider who probably didn't care one way or another that we were there, and the trailer was now cool.

What, you ask, did we do now?  Well, I'll tell you.  Nothing!  We went down the hall and went to bed.  We never saw him again.  The funny thing was that a member of our group had an intense fear dislike of spiders, however, I couldn't resist showing our house guest's portrait the following morning.  Apparently everyone chose the appropriate sleeping quarters.

And now for everyone who hates spiders.  

Quote of the Week

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is Behind the Wheel.  Today is the 4th day into this 30-day challenge.  Only 26 to go!

Another way to solve the traffic problems of this country is to pass a law that only paid-for cars be allowed to use the highways.  - Will Rogers

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

Will Rogers (1879 - 1935) a vaudeville performer, actor, humorist and an American cowboy was probably the best known celebrities during the 1920s and 1930.  He died in a small plane crash in Alaska in 1935.

Back in 1935 life was different, things costs less, and salaries were less too.  Here are some examples: A car cost $580 and gas was 19 cents a gallon.  A loaf of bread and a gallon of milk were 8 cents and 47 cents, respectively.  Your house was around $6,300 and your salary around $1,500.  During the 1930s there were approximately 2.7 million cars sold compared with an estimated 254 million cars on the road today.  With that in mind, it seems odd that there would have been enough people behind the wheel for traffic to have been an issue over 75 years ago.

With more cars being built and sold today, the average price being some 50 times greater than in 1935 and car loans being up to 6 years, the concept of not allowing unpaid for cars on the road is unfathomable.

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.

More Cheese, Please

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

Cheese, cheese, beautiful cheese

Provolone, Swiss and Edam

Colby, Jack and Muenster, too

You just can't beat 'em

A plate of Havarti, creamy and fine
So lovely with a glass of wine

For my pizza I gotta say
Mozzarella makes my day

Gouda, oh Gouda, smokey or plain

Drives my Quesadillas insane

Mac and cheese down on the farm
With lots of Cheddar and a little Parm

What more can I say about this food prepared from the pressed curd of milk?  More cheese, please!