Anniversary

Mom and Dad married on this date,
I’m not sure of the year.
1958 or 59? Maybe ’60?
I wasn’t very old when Daddy said he did
and my mom said she would
and the three of us became a family,
A trio bonded
By vows and a ring.

Happily ever after was in their hearts,
and they did their best to make it so.
I remember fights and make ups.
Tears and kisses.
Two people
who weren’t sure they were
worthy of being loved,
trying desperately to love.

My brothers connected us
Gave Daddy his boys
And me, my co-conspirators
My victims, too.
Sometimes
Jealously overshadowed love
But love won out
Over and over again.

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Sinusitis?

Achy, throbbing sinus cavities

Got you down?

Same here.

Well, suffer no more!

Now,

For a limited time only

You can have a

Head-ectomy.

I’ve booked mine and

It

Cannot

Come

Soon

Enough.

I’ll probably miss my head now and again, but

I won’t miss the headaches and congestion.

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I Wish

For as long as I remember
I wish has been part of the
Vocabulary shaping me
Shaking me time and again.

I wish I were cuter
Smarter, funnier
I wish I were shorter,
Sported a prettier smile.

I wish I were less awkward
Around members of the
Opposite sex and sales
Clerks in upscale stores.

I wish I’d been a more
Patient mother, less
Cranky, more careful and
Aware of the special times.

I wish I’d been a better
Daughter, sister, wife
Less selfish, open to the
Needs of others.

I wish I’d paid attention
All those times some
Everyday miracle occurred
Right here, right now.

From now on
I wish is
I will and
I am and will be.

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Graffiti Train

I’m sitting in my car watching a train roll through Quincy, FL. Every car has a bit of art painted across the side, some beautiful, some provocative, some profane. It occurred to me that these cars have their own stories and we just get a small glimpse as they chug on by us.

Graffiti Train

Union Pacific rail cars
Taking their sweet time
Chockety-chock, chock,
Covered with
Moving pictures:
Gang signs in
Fuchsia block letters
Join or Die!
Submit and Live!
4-2-1 Brothers.
Peace, man!
Skull with Crossbones
Oversized funky feet,
Hands, and eyes
Adorn these cars.
Secretly rich lives lived
In train yard towns like
Galesburg, Illinois,
Kansas City, Missouri, and
North Platte, Nebraska.
Chockety-chock, chock,
Squee, squee, squee!
Move on now,
I don’t have all day,
Just because you’re all
Dressed up,
Places to go
Doesn’t mean I can sit
Idly by just to
Watch this show.
Chockety-chock, chock.

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Favorite Words

Words, words, words!
We
speak,
bark,
question,
entice,
command,
suggest,
deny,
glorify,
demean,
defeat,
entreat.

These all make me grin. I’m weird that way.

Extrudable
Elucidate
Matriculate
Susceptible
Incorruptible
Misogyny
Parenthetical
Soliloquy
Malleable
Evanescence
Mythological
Slovenly
Minuscule
Embryonic
Emasculate
Postulate
Diarrhea (honestly, it’s a beautiful word for a nasty issue)

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Baking for Dummy

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At Studly’s request I am making two pecan pies from semi-scratch. I don’t/can’t make my own pie crusts, but everything else in the pies is 100% homemade. As much as such things can be homemade–I mean I didn’t grow the sugar cane, nor did I create the Karo Syrup–Mr. Karo must’ve done that. And I didn’t lay or collect the eggs; I’m kind of afraid of small farm animals, and I still haven’t learned the art of egg laying. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I didn’t mash up the vanilla beans for the extract, or grow and harvest the pecans, either.

In progress:

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I guess we can scratch the word scratch from that first sentence. All I did was assemble the ingredients, and from the smells emanating from my kitchen, I’d say these pies are done.

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Tantrum

Menopause
Brings out the best in me
She proclaimed sarcastically.
Hot, hot, hot
Flashes,
Night sweats to die for.
Dry–everything and everywhere.
No fair, dammit!
Just as she hit her stride:
Kids all grown, gone
Lives all their own.

Care to get frisky?
Sure!
But her body screams,
“Whoa there, little missy!
Not so fast.
Let’s add a few pounds,
Wrinkles in weird places
And configurations.
Boobs that weep
For their youthful
Buoyancy and shape
And by the way
Forget about sleep.”

Well, I’ve got your number
Ms. Men-o-pause!
I’m ignoring your
Anti-passion attacks
On my body, my life.
Intimacy is still on my
Top ten list.
Despite your best efforts.
In the words of Gloria Gaynor
I will survive!

The beautiful and talented Ms. Gaynor

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“I Will Survive”

First I was afraid
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights
Thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
I learned how to get along

And so you’re back
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here
With that sad look upon your face
I should have changed that stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
You’d be back to bother me

Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die

Oh no, not I
I will survive
As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive (hey hey)

It took all the strength I had
Not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend
The pieces of my broken heart

And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high
And you see me
Somebody new
I’m not that chained up little girl
Who fell in love with you
And so you felt like dropping in
And just expect me to be free
Now I’m saving all my loving
For someone who’s loving me
Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore

Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive (oh)

Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive
I will survive…!

Is Studly Actually a Famous Football Player? You Decide

Studly Doright believes with his whole heart that he and Brett Favre could be twins.

Studly:

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Brett:

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Now, if I squint, I might mistake Brett for Studly’s second cousin’s great uncle’s youngest son. Otherwise, I just don’t see the resemblance.

But, you can weigh in. If he gets enough “yes” votes I’ll get up and make his breakfast on Saturday morning.

But wait, Studly said I needed to use this photo of Brett:

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Personally, I think this view comes closest to resembling my guy:

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Uncomplicated

A Facebook friend challenged me to write a companion piece to his “Uncomplicated” poem. Here ‘s my take on it.

Uncomplicated

Old Ford truck, tailgate down
Levis and a faded chambray
Flip flops, goosebumps
Two Buck Chuck in a Dixie cup.
Fire pit in October
S’mores well done,
Sitting on the back porch,
Drowning in the stars.
Church on Sunday very last pew
Singing all the old hymns
I’ll fly away, oh glory,
Amazing Grace,
And you.

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Scurvy

Shouldn’t the word scurvy
Be an adjective to describe
A delicate morsel so sweet
And tasty that other treats
Blanch in comparison?
Gosh, that dessert was scurvy!

Or a nubile brunette reclined
On a chaise lounge
in a slinky red gown
My goodness, she is scurvy
Or even scurvaceous.

Instead, scurvy is a noun;
A disease brought on by a
Lack of some critical vitamin
C or D or K
Or is that rickets?

Anyway, it’s a disease: scurvy.

Rickets, come to think of it
Sounds like it should be some
Kind of annoying insect that
Chirrups in the darkest
Corners of the bedroom.

Darned rickets.

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