Tag: blogging

Chicago, Here I Come!

I’m flying to Chicago out of Panama City Beach on Friday afternoon. Once in the Windy City I’ll meet up with my daughter and our middle granddaughter for a weekend of shopping, dining, and Les Misérables-ing.

In preparation for the trip I’ve been listening to the Les Misérables soundtrack, because one never knows when they’ll need someone to fill in for a cast member. I probably don’t look much like Jean Valjean, but I could sing his part in a pinch. And Cosette’s role? I’m ready to don her dress and belt out her lyrics. Just in case.

My tastebuds are already anticipating a Chicago-style pizza, as I recall the ghosts of pizzas past. There’s simply nothing better than a deep dish pepperoni. Mmmmm. Can you smell it? I can. Now all I have to do is convince my daughter and her daughter that we need to head downtown for dinner Friday night!

Of course, Friday will be my daughter’s thirty-somethingth birthday. I’ll let her choose dinner on Friday, but Saturday is pizza for sure. Am I excited? Duh!!! And the best part? Getting to see my family! I’m packed and ready. Let the party begin.

Granddaddy’s Gas Station

I grew up in a Fina gas station owned by my granddaddy. My days smelled of petroleum and cigars,

No wonder I’m a little on edge all of my days. When the world is combustible with the errant flick of an ash,

Everything becomes precious to a precocious five year old. Grandaddy kept candy and red fuses in a glass counter display.

I had the run of the place, but was cautioned about dashing about and around the old pumps, lest someone

Run me over. Pretty heady stuff for a little girl who only wanted to ask, “Premium or Ethyl?” as she washed grimy windshields.

My heart is all tied up in that place. Bound by diligence and the smell of Grandaddy’s Old Spice. The strength of his hugs.

The Cat in Question

The cat in question,

Snuggling, purring on my lap,

She finds her warm place

Never questions life,

Not a care in her safe world

Relaxed, yet still poised

The cat in question

A lady of advanced age

My boon companion

Belles and Whistles

She still remembers

Walking through shame and cold fear

Whoee, doll, come here

Should she not react,

Or turn, and face the whistlers

Walk a bit faster

That stretch of hallway

Where sly boys formed a gauntlet

Eager eyes taunted

Darts in the Dark

Darts in the Dark

My time is now spent throwing darts into the dark, hoping that one sticks and makes its mark in the cork.

My aim must be off, maybe, or the target has been moved. I only know that my darts miss their marks

And clatter harmlessly onto the concrete where they’ll remain until the lights are restored. I’m a fool, but not

Inclined to go searching for sharp metal objects in this room, this tomb, where the light is forbidden and my feet bare.

Havana (Florida) Car Show

Studly Doright and I had dinner in downtown Havana, Florida, last evening, and got more than just a great meal. After enjoying a delicious dinner and a glass of wine at The English Rose Cafe we wandered around Havana where an antique car show was in progress. Studly even won $35 in a raffle! Not too shabby.

Studly’s favorite vehicle in the show was the green ‘65 Ford pickup. Can you guess which one I’m fondest of?

If you ever find yourself in the area be sure to stop by The English Rose Café. It’s a little slice of British heaven in the Florida panhandle. (Note: I don’t receive any type of compensation for mentioning Millie’s restaurant—I just really like her food!)

Peace, people!

Fireworks

One hot summer night

She sent him off with fireworks

Exploding mid-air

Reds and blues bursting

Sparklers lighting up the sky

Oohs and ahhhs ringing

She prayed he’d return

But the heat left when he did

Dark skies, quiet hearts

Marriage

Studly Doright and I were watching some network entertainment show last night. The hosts were talking about a celebrity couple whose marriage was in its third year. Apparently, the couple planned to share their secrets to a long and happy marriage.

“Three years!” I snorted. “If they’re still together in 38 years, maybe I’ll listen to what they have to say.”

“You’ll be dead by then,” said Studly.

Well, there is that nagging bit of reality. Damn his wicked insight.

Peace, and good marriages, people!

When the Lights Go Out

Without a flicker

One by one the lights go out

Sometimes beats apart

I’ll replace them all

Someday, when the ladder’s found

When I’m not afraid

It isn’t the heights,

And I don’t fear the darkness,

Until they’re combined

Playing Along

His touch, unwelcome

His words, inappropriate

Please, just play along

Her words were doubted

Her fears were all discounted

Boys will still be boys

We have had enough

We have found strength in numbers

We won’t play along