What the world needs now:
Peas and love, baby! 
So we can truly have
And while we’re dreaming,
Is this to much to ask for?
Peas, people!
Tag: humor
Life’s Little Lesson #5, I think
A wallet, no matter how stylish, cannot be used as an electronic reader.
I tried in vain last night to turn on my Kindle so I could read a bit before going to sleep. I couldn’t find the “on” switch and finally gave up.
This morning I realized that instead of grabbing my Kindle from my bag as is my habit I’d fetched my large wallet instead.
Did I mention that I was extremely tired when this occurred, and probably suffering from a mild case of heat exhaustion? I’m certain it wasn’t the single glass of wine I enjoyed with dinner.
I’d like to produce evidence that I am not suffering from insanity, if it pleases the court.
Verdict?
Peace, people!
Kitten Cuddler Update
I have good news and bad news about my bid to become a Kitten Cuddler at the county animal services center.
Good news: I did not babble too much during the interview and have been offered an opportunity to volunteer at the shelter.
Bad news: I know it will come as a shock to my readers, but I am not qualified to be a Kitten Cuddler. Kitten Cuddling is a Level 2 volunteer position, and I must first attend an orientation and log 20 hours as a Level 1 volunteer.
The bad news isn’t terrible; in fact, it’s wonderful news, but “good news/wonderful news” doesn’t carry the weight of “good news/bad news.”
I’ll still be working with felines, learning the routines, feeding cats and kittens, and cleaning cages. I am beyond excited. The next orientation is scheduled for an evening during the first week of August, and I can’t wait!
Thanks for all of the positive vibes sent my way. I’m sure that’s what kept me from sharing embarrassing details from my youth.
Peace, people!
Cavity
i was chatting
with a friend
then glanced
down at my wrist
oh dear, i sighed,
look at the time
“i must go and have my
cavity filled.”
at her startled look
I wondered
what i’d just said,
then giggling,
my face turning red
added, “at the dental
office.”
Little Troll
i found a little troll today
angry as could be
on facebook he attacked
my views
without even knowing me.
i let him spew his venom
calmy held my own
then chained him underneath
his bridge
where all good trolls belong.
Well, I blocked the obnoxious little twerp, which is almost the same thing.
Peace, people!
No Immortality
I haven’t responded to a Daily Prompt in over a month, but I thought this one: Finite Creatures: At what age did you realize you weren’t immortal? was thought-provoking.
As a small child, between the ages of three and five, my family and I lived in a series of rental homes. Dad hadn’t yet been elevated to the position of Piggly Wiggly manager, and Mom was a stay-at-home parent, as far as I can recall. At any rate, she was at home the day I came running in the front door crying my eyes out.
“Mommy! I’m going to die!”
“No you aren’t sweetheart!” she said, hugging me.
“Yes, I am _________________ said I was going to die and Mr. Bugs is going to die and you and Daddy are going to die.” I hiccuped between sobs.
I remember Mom sighing. I know now that sigh meant, “That little brat _______________! Now I have to explain death to my baby.”
My mother was very good at explaining tough things, much better than I ever was. She sat and cradled me in her lap and said that _________________ was right, that everyone dies.
“Even dogs?” I whispered, hoping Mr. Bugs was immune.
“Yes, but Mr. Bugs is a puppy,” she said. “He’s going to live a long time. And you’re just a little girl. You’re going to live a long time, too.”
Of course then I had a bunch of little girl questions:
“Does it hurt to die?”
“What happens when we die?”
“Why do people and dogs die?”
“Will you and Daddy die?”
Mom answered my questions that day as best she could and for many days after. I became obsessed with death.
I believe this is why I never had that feeling of immortality that most kids and teenagers experience. I never was a daredevil, never a rebel. Caution was my middle name. Death my dread.
We were Christians and the promise of eternal life was always there, but I sure didn’t want to lose this one. I remember vividly _____________________ sitting in his swing, calmly informing me I was going to die. I don’t remember his name, but I’m blaming him for dampening my youthful exuberance.
Stupidhead bunnyfart ___________________!
Peace, people!
Contemplating Pizza
When I graduated from high school in 1975 I weighed a whopping 115 lbs. At 5’8″ I was one skinny chick. I was also fairly shy and unassuming.
Forty years later I’m proud to say, I’m still 5’8″ tall. Yep, I’m pretty proud of that. Plus I can still wear the same earrings that fit me back then, not to brag or anything.
On a day to day basis I don’t give my weight much thought, but in late October the group of people I went to school with in Floydada, Texas, is having its 40 year reunion. I’m pretty sure I can’t get down to 110 (or 120 or 130 or…), but it’d be nice to lose 10 pounds or so.
I probably should start working on that right away. Or maybe I’ll have another slice of pizza.
Oh, I’m not that shy and unassuming anymore either.
Peace, people!
Why I Write
I came across this on a friend’s Facebook page this morning and thought, “YES!”
How often have I heard, “Oh you write a blog. Do you make any money?” Or, after reading one of my blog posts, “You should be a writer!”
Well, I am. Just because I don’t have a book deal doesn’t mean I’m not a writer.
I wouldn’t know how to go about being a published author any more than I know about performing heart surgery. I don’t write to be published. I write to rescue that abandoned puppy. Sometimes I am that puppy.
And I don’t perform open heart surgery because people would die. As far as I know, my writing hasn’t killed a single person. This week, anyway.
Sick Euphemisms
seldom am i ill
now i’m green around the gills
under the weather
trying to refrain
from blowing copious chunks
feeling dyspeptic
weak as a kitten
way down in the old dumpster
sick as a puppy.
euphemisms all
describing one ugly truth
i feel craptastic.
Someone needs to sing Soft Kitty to me.
Margaritas
margaritas ha!
deceptively innocent
but pack a big bang!
frozen or on rocks
margaritas deliver
a mighty mean punch!
wish i could have one
but those margarita nights
played havoc with me. 
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 