Author: Janna Hill

The Reality Blogger Award (Yep!)

/ Janna Hill / 8 Comments

A shout-out and thank you to the KnowledgeKnut for this nomination. I haven’t been this thrilled since I won the Biddy award for best supporting actress in Last of the Red Hot Lovers {cough} years ago. I still have that little chicken statue…

There are conditions attached to this award (see below) and answering these questions were part of said conditions.

    If you could change one thing what would you change?

My own tires.

    If you could repeat an age, what would it be?

The Stone Age. Otherwise I’m content with my current chronological phase.

    What one thing really scares you?

The only thing that really scares me resides in my imagination.

    What is one dream you have not completed, and do you think you’ll be able to complete it?

To sell one million books in one month. I’m not sure that is realistic (most dreams aren’t) but I’m optimistic.

    If you could be someone else for one day, who would it be?

Hmm, only one day? I guess I’d better stick to being me.

Another stated condition was to choose up to twenty bloggers. I couldn’t, there are too many great ones so I chose a [diverse group] of seven off the top of my head. Yes, they were just perched up there having tea on my cranium and I had to get them down so…

Island Traveler @ This Man’s Journey

Erika Clay @ Creative Liar

Humbled Pie

Elizabeth @ Mirth & Motivation

Doug @Writingfictionblog

Hillybillyzen

Staci Troilo

Here are the rules. Abide by them if you can 😦

Visit and thank the blogger who nominated you

Acknowledge that blogger on your blog and link back to them

Answer the 5 questions presented

Nominate up to 20 blogs for the award and notify them on their blogs

Copy and paste the award on your blog somewhere

Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures

/ Janna Hill / 8 Comments

Here is the official submission for last week’s challenge: My 2012 In Pictures. Hey, I made an effort AND I had a note! If you hurried to get your shots in on time you will be pissed happy to know this: Sara extended the challenge. 😀

The first few months of 2012 were spent writing and choosing book covers. And occasionally dressing to check the mail.
I don’t really think this was April but isn’t that a pretty red spider?!
Sneaking up on dead insects- that’s what I do best.
And I thought I was busy…
The grass was starting to grow so I got a couple of goats.
Greedy horn-worm. (His insides were a bright chartreuse)
I went to the mud bogs and broke in a new Nikon. (That was such a bad idea)
Playground on a September day. Oh the ruckus a puppy can cause…
Goodbye dragonfly… So long summertime.
A proud little pumpkin carver 🙂
Golf, a groom and no more balls 😦
A hazy December sunrise and another year closing.
My how time flies on the back of a turtle.

There Is No Place Like Home

/ Janna Hill / 10 Comments

Can’t you just see Dorothy clicking her heels? There is no place like home. There is no place like home…

I’m sorry, that’s as funny as this post is going to get.

There is no place like home. Most people would agree with that. Some would even tell you there are places far worse than home. Those are the places we avoid, the places we fear. The places we sometimes absolutely refuse to abide… But sometimes we’re forced into such places.

As most know I recently returned from holiday and as everyone knows (or anyone that’s ever left home for more than 12 hours) things stack up.

I was sorting through an endless list of digital solicitations when I came across an article. This article was not a solicitation; it’s a magazine I actually subscribe to. The article was written back in November and titled Patients Have the Right to Choose Death From Bedsores by Art Caplan from the division of medical ethics at the NYU Langone Medical Center in New York.

(If you don’t subscribe to Medscape you can see most of it here or here)

I won’t bore you with the legalities or the medical jargon but the point made was this: a person’s right to die has far-reaching effects. That in itself is not anything new but the method in which the man chose to die was essentially unheard of.  The article did not delve into the gory details of dying by decubitus but more of how one person’s decision might affect those around them. Their right to die and how that right might disrupt the well-being of people indirectly related to them.

To die from bedsores – to choose to die from bedsores strikes me as a horrendous way of exiting this life yet I must respect that person’s right as much as I would anyone’s refusal of life-prolonging measures.

Much controversy and upheaval came about due to this man’s decision. He simply refused to be turned. The poor gentleman was cautioned regarding the onset and side effects of decubitus ulcers – essentially that pressure sores would develop, his flesh would rot, infection would set in and death would be slow, malodorous and uncomfortable to say the least. Being of sound mind he declared this his fate. You see the gentleman could no longer live in his own home after suffering a series of debilitating strokes and thus decided not to live at all.

The sad thing about his choice was not only how it affected him but everyone else in the hospital. For five weeks (that’s how long it took) it is said that the odor grew stronger as he grew weaker. The room in which he stayed was treated as isolation not due to contagions but to contain the stench as much as possible.

He had one daughter.

It is not my intention to judge or point fingers, this man was of sound mind, an opinion substantiated by professional reports. I don’t intend to weigh in on the family dynamics other than to express my sympathies. I’m not up for debating Kevorkian issues, to each his own and let your conscience be your guide. So what is this post about? I’m not really sure except to possibly bring light to the reality that our decisions reach far beyond the tips of our fingers and our own demise… and the fact that there is no place like home.

Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments

This weeks photo challenge is titled My 2012 in Pictures but what I offer is not really mine.

Have you ever ran by the deli and grabbed something for a potluck dinner, plopped it into a bowl, squished it around and hoped people might believe that you made it yourself? Well, me neither but this feels like that scenario might IF I had a clue about such things.  I want to offer up something for such a feast but I am still on holiday [aka away from my satchel of jump drives] so in lieu of my 2012 pictures I am posting a link to the Dallas Morning News  2012 Year in Review by Michael Hamtil/Photo Editor. This may seem like a cheat but I have a written excuse.

Please excuse me Janna Hill for her semi-lame participation in this weeks photo challenge. She is away on holiday.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Surprise

/ Janna Hill / 9 Comments

Surprise surprise surprise! The infamous words of Gomer Pyle  echo in my memory but to my own surprise they don’t annoy me like they did some forty years ago.  That is probably because I have matured just a little. I am no longer burdened with the need to be cool and now find myself longing for a simpler time, an era where trust and naivety could walk freely among crowds, if there ever was such a time. Maybe there was and it rests on a reel of black and white film stored somewhere in sunny California?

Or in a box of old photographs in Texas…

Or under a live oak tree with a tire swing…

Or maybe, just maybe in a little dog’s dreams of Christmas.

I wouldn’t be surprised if all of the above are true.

Amazed at old photographs. Even when you’ve seen them a hundred times.
Little girls are always full of surprises.
I’m surprised she let me put the cap on her head.

This weeks photo challenge is (you guessed it) SURPRISE.

Crazy Conversations (Enumerating Kin)

/ Janna Hill / 5 Comments
Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.
 
Enumerating Kin

Cousin Bill: We need to get together more. Somebody ought to plan a family reunion before all of us are gone.

Sue: Yes, someone should take charge and do that, not that you would go – you haven’t gone to any of the other ones.

Cousin Bill: I didn’t know there were any other ones.Front Porch & Family Photos

Sue: You say the same thing every time.

Betty: Don’t get on his ass. You ain’t been to many of `em yourself missy!

Sue: I wasn’t getting on his ass. If I was getting on his ass he would know it, trust me.

Cousin Bill: It kinda felt like you were gettin’ on my ass. Matter of fact I think you left a mark.

Sue: Poor baby, you want Betty to kiss it and make it all better.

Betty: I’m not kissin’ his hairy old butt.

Cousin Bill: It ain’t hairy. It’s smooth as a baby’s bottom. You wanna see?

Betty: No thank you.

Sue: I do.

Betty: You’re sick in the head girl if you want to look at his rear-end.

Sue: You looked at it so I guess you’re sick in the head too.

Betty: My lookin’ was an accident. I turned my head as soon as I could but I gotta tell you I still have nightmares about it.

Cousin Bill: Would somebody just plan the damn reunion already!

Sue: Betty you’re the oldest why don’t you start a list of paternal relatives and we’ll go from there.

Betty: What is paternal?

Sue: From the father’s side.

Betty: Oh that’s easy. Let’s see… there is Aunt Lou and Uncle Delbert-

Sue: They are from mother’s side of the family and they passed away twelve years ago.

Betty: So you want just the live ones?

Sue: I think the dead ones might have a problem making it to a family reunion.

Cousin Bill: I imagine they’re having their own reunion in heaven. God rest their souls. Sue would you get me another beer?

Betty: I’ve seen dead people at reunions.

Sue: Just make the list Betty we don’t have time for your ghost stories.

Cousin Bill: Lord knows her stories do go on. We’ll all be at that heavenly reunion by the time she finishes.

Betty: Why does it have to be just Daddy’s side? That’s plum rude.

Sue: Let’s work on one thing at a time. We can make a maternal list later.

Betty: What’s maternal? Never mind, I know the answer.

Sue: Good.

Betty: But I don’t think there will be many people show up at a reunion for pregnant women.

Sue: Dadgum you’re sharp as a tack. So how many have you got on the list so far?

Betty: Ummm. What ever happened to Jim and all of those girls? And Jerry and his wife – none of them had any boys did they?

Cousin Bill: Nope. No males to carry on the family name. I reckon we’ll disappear from the annals of history.

Betty: Annals. Is that the same as anus?

Sue: That’s right Betty, it is. That is called a synonym. Don’t worry Bill I’m sure the county has an accurate record of you.

Betty: Well that makes sense now. Curtis is a history butt and he is always talking about annals.

Sue: So you’ve got Jim and Jerry’s clans. Who else?

Betty: You know they had three sisters and a couple of brothers that was stout enough to produce some male offspring. They each had at least five kids and most of `em was boys.

Cousin Bill: What does stout have to do with it?

Betty: A man’s seed has got to be strong to make a boy. Can’t have no little pecker either. Boy seeds are puny little swimmers; they have to be planted deep. Yep, you gotta park `em right on top of the ovary or they’ll never make it.

Cousin Bill: I think I’ll go get me a beer.

Betty: Did you know there are millions and millions of sperm released every time a man relieves his self.

Sue: When he urinates?

Betty: No dummy. Piss don’t have sperm in it. When he umm… you know… has an orgasm.

Sue: Why are you whispering? Orgasm is not a dirty word.

Betty: Well it sounds vulgar to me. It sounds like oral – makes me think of oral… you know. Come to think of it, that might be the reason Jerry and his wife never had any boys. And Jim too. Girl they was puttin’ it in the wrong hole!

Sue: Oh dear lord baby Jesus. You don’t really believe that do you?

Betty: Do you have a better theory?

Sue: No. No Betty I don’t. Let’s forget about the millions and millions of misplaced scrawny sperm for now. How many do you have on the list?

Betty: Two.

A short, short story about a timeless life.

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments
Inspired by Time and Eternity, on a topic I have often dwelt on and for whatever reason I feel compelled to share a piece written in in 2011. And congratulations to Snowak for being Freshly pressed

 A short, short story about a timeless life.

Consumed by a paralyzing and debilitating dread. Lying inert as frenzied milliseconds spark still frames with bursts of terrestrial years past.
Whirling memories so fast they pin my mind to the wall with such intense pressure I cannot even utter why or what.
And then…
Quiet… Calm… Tranquility as clean and clear as the waters of a mountain spring. A peace more pure than morning dew.
Entrancing light more than warms and welcomes me, it heals me.
All of my troubles now seem trivial, fleeting, and totally unimportant.
I am overcome by a sense of well being… an indescribable comfort that makes pain, sorrow and worry words I no longer  comprehend.
There are no strangers here, I know everyone and everyone knows me. The glowing they emit is untainted and wholesome, it is love and it nourishes my spirit.
The further I travel from this flesh and bone shell, the more peaceful and perfect I feel.
Awakened to the memory of such wonder and well being I can see the universe. Where we have all been, where we are going, together.
I am not grieved for anyone who is not here, only grateful for those present.
I want to ask questions but none of them really matter now. The few inquiries I have are answered before I can speak:
Yes, they are here. The answer is no. Time? Time has many meanings. .. All in due time.
A sudden jolt and I awake ensnared in this weak, pained, decaying carcass. More aware now of all these imperfections, though less troubled by them for they are the fate of every man to some degree.
I am made aware that the anxiety of transition will remain. As it was coming into the flesh, it will be when returning to the spirit. Much like the fear of a roller coaster one is determined to ride.
Death comes to every life and life comes from every death.
And me…. I nearly lived.

Crazy Conversations (My Mother)

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments

Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.


Old family photo

Old family photo

Me: Look at this old photograph I found the other day mama. That’s back when you smoked and had curly hair.

Mama: You mean back before you drove me to pulling it out by the roots.

Me: You still have a lot of hair mother.

Mama: Not nearly as much and what I do have has been pulled straight as a board.

Me: I’m sorry I worried you.

Mama: You still worry me.

Me: Why? I have been an upstanding citizen for years now.

Mama: I’ve noticed you’re not working on your promotions.

Me: I thought you said relations, so I worked on that.

Mama: So you’re gettin’ plenty of sex then?

Me: Yes ma’am.

Mama: Okay now get to work on your promotions.

Me: You want me to promote my relations?

Mama: Hell no. You know what I mean.

Me: You told me a few weeks ago I should get back to writing.

Mama: So how is the latest story coming along?

Me: I’ve got a few thousand words written.

Mama: Yep. Same 3,449 you had last month I bet. I never see you online.

Me: I don’t see you on line either.

Mama: Don’t get sassy with me little girl. You know my computer is slow and I don’t have all day to wait on a single page to load. I’m busy.

Me: I know you are. Between watching Jeopardy and feeding the dog I don’t know how you manage to have dinner ready by 4 PM much less find time to get online.

Mama: I get on there once or twice a week but you know that computer is so old.

Me: What about your laptop? The one you got for your birthday, it’s fairly new.

Mama: I don’t like the way it feels – I don’t know why you girls even got that for me.

Me: Because you asked for it?

Mama: I wanted something that would surf faster.

Me: Your ISP is the problem mother, not the computer.

Mama: If my ESP was working I wouldn’t need a computer.

Me: No, I said your ISP. That is your internet service provider. You need to upgrade.

Mama: I can’t get anything but dial up where I live.

Me: All of your neighbors have high speed internet.

Mama: Big deal. Your brother still has to walk out in the back yard to use his cell phone.

Me: You could get an internet dish.

Mama: I already have a dish.

Me: Do they offer an internet service package?

Mama: That’s thirty dollars more a month.

Me: That doesn’t sound bad.

Mama: I think I just need another computer.

Me: That wouldn’t help.

Mama: That attitude right there is why you’re not selling more books.

Me: Why do you say that?

Mama: Well instead of blogging all day and worrying about what I’m doing you could be attending book signings. I saw one in last week’s paper.

Me: Yeah, I saw that. They invited four or five authors – I wasn’t one of them.

Mama: You should go anyway.

Me: Hey, that would be fun. You and I could go and check out the new books.

Mama: I don’t have time to lollygag around some bookstore. I want you to go – you could share a table with some nice girl and maybe make a real friend. You need to interact more with living people.

Me: You make it sound like I hang out in cemeteries.

Mama: How do you know those online people are who they say they are?

Me: I don’t know if they are honest but I feel pretty sure they are alive.

Mama: Might just be your computer talking back to you.

Me: You should write about that.

Mama: Might be a woman pretending to be a gay man.

Me: Hey, I heard a story like that. There was a-

Mama: Shh!  Alex Trebek is talking.

Crazy Conversations (Christmas Dinner)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.

Teddy, Gene and Beth couldn’t be with us due to the fact that Teddy and Gene had a hangover prior engagement [they had some how forgotten about] and poor Beth is a tit bag didn’t feel well.Turkey Tom

Robert: Why are we having turkey? Turkey is traditional. I thought you all agreed on a non-traditional Christmas dinner.

Audrey: We did.

Robert: Well turkey is about as non-traditional as my –

Audrey: Robert! Watch your mouth. Besides this is Christmas Eve, you can have a non-traditional dinner tomorrow.

Robert: But what about today?

Audrey: Today you will eat turkey.

Tom: If I’d known we were having turkey I would have stayed home.

Audrey: Just carve the bird dear; you don’t have to eat it.  Be sure to set some aside for Beth. She likes turkey and it might make her feel better.

Robert: Beth will eat anything that doesn’t eat her first. She should have dragged her lazy ass off of the sofa if she wanted turkey.  I ought to eat the whole bird out of spite – that would serve her right.

Tom: Bob please don’t talk bad about Beth when she isn’t here to defend herself.

Robert: What did I say that wasn’t true? You know you’re married to a bitchy hag that thinks she’s a diva.

Tom: She is my diva.

Robert: Oh hell, now you’re gonna make me puke. You have no idea there is a difference between a diva and a bitch.

Audrey: Stop it Robert! I can’t believe you kissed my mother with that nasty mouth.

Robert: Don’t worry; I spit the cuss words out before I kissed her. So what are we having for meat?

Audrey: There is chicken in the dressing, eat that.

Robert: There isn’t enough chicken in that dressing to fill my hollow tooth.

Audrey: First you insult my sister now you disrespect my mother’s dressing?

Robert: How am I disrespecting her dressing?

Audrey: You know there is a whole chicken in there and you make a smart alack remark about your hollow tooth. Maybe you should see a dentist.

Robert: I saw the dentist two weeks ago. You know that.

Audrey: What did he say about that hollow tooth? Did he offer to fill it?

Robert: I don’t need any fillings, my teeth are perfectly fine.

Audrey: Then the chicken shouldn’t be a problem.

Robert: This is the saddest damn dinner I’ve ever seen. It is gawdam meatless. I bet Beth is layed up eating a slab of frickin’ brisket. You’re right Tom, you should have stayed home and I should have gone to your house.

Audrey: Kiss my ass Robert.

Robert: OH, Audrey. You said a bad word.

Tom: She didn’t mean it.

Audrey: Oh I totally meant it! Literally. I don’t give a flying rat’s patootie if he eats the turkey or the dressing but I sincerely want him to kiss my bare naked butt or he’ll have turkey sandwiches for a month.

Robert: Now I never said I didn’t like turkey sandwiches. Come to think of it I like them a lot on wheat bread with mayonnaise… Tom slice it real thin and wrap a few pieces for us to take home. Not the drumstick, I don’t like-

Audrey: Robert?

Robert: What?

Audrey: Would you like to kiss my derrière before or after you say the blessing?

Robert: After would probably be better for me.

Weekly Photo Challenge : Delicate

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments
The dainty weaves of a dream-catcher
The frail skin around the eye
The tender glistening taste buds
The sensitive hairs of the nares
The delicate traces of dust and webs

Thank you dear husband for allowing me to photograph your delicate sensory organs while you slept. I was so excited when you yawned, exposing your pretty little tongue to the camera. I must admit I worried you were going to wake up when I pulled at your eyelid but you were such a trooper and went right back to snoring. I’m sorry about waving the dusty faux rose in your face but it was part of the ceremony. Oh, and you were right sweetie, you do need to trim your nose hairs.

This week’s photo challenge is titled Delicate