Stealing Away

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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.