Wordless Wednesday (Watching)
family
Crazy Conversations (Boogers Are Wet)
Boogers Are Wet (Or They Should Be)
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.
My baby sister was kind enough to accompany me while I had a series of tests done. She mostly sat in the lobby and played games on the iPad, but between tests, we had a chance to chat. It certainly made the ordeal much more entertaining. This is how I repay her.
Sister: Why did you tell the nurse your baby sister would be driving you home?
Me: Because she asked me. If I can’t drive, you are supposed to. I thought you knew that.
Sister: I know that dummy – I mean the baby sister part. I am fifty years old.
Me: I don’t care how old you are, you will always be the baby. It’s not like she thought you were a toddler.
Sister: Just don’t start thinking you can boss me. You’re not the boss of me.
Me: Lord, ain’t that the truth. If I could make you do anything, you would be having a few of these tests right along with me.
Sister: Don’t lecture me either. I know my body and I know how to take care of it. I may not take good care of it but I know that too.
Me: I won’t lecture you. Harping on people never helps — especially rebellious people. You do take an aspirin every day, right?
Sister: Yes. Some days I take three or four — or five. Usually four. They’re just baby aspirins.
Me: Why do you take four baby aspirin?
Sister: Because sometimes one is not enough.
Me: But the doctor told you to take one a day — just to thin your blood, right?
Sister: Right! But when you cut yourself and the blood clots a soon as it comes to the surface – it’s too thick. Blood is supposed to drip, that’s just common sense. People should pay attention to that and know their body. I’m not going to pay a doctor $200 to tell me my blood is too thick.
Me: Why not just take one adult aspirin – the milligrams would be the same.
Sister: No, it would not be the same Miss Nursey-Nurse. Four baby aspirins equal 324 milligrams, one adult aspirin is 325.
Me: So you’re worried that you might overdose?
Sister: No. I just like the taste of the baby aspirin.
Me: You are one stubborn woman.
Sister: You know I will cut my nose off to spite my face, so will you.
Me: Speaking of noses, look at that lady across from you.
Sister: Oh my gosh! Did you see that dry flaky thing she just sent flying?
Me: Yeah! What was that?
Sister: It looked like a UFO.
Me: Shhh!
Sister: See what I mean, I bet that woman doesn’t know her own body. She’s probably here to have a dozen tests done when the problem is she’s just dehydrated. It’ll cost her $1500 to find out she needs to drink more water.
Me: So you’re diagnosing now? You don’t know her.
Sister: No, but I know boogers. You saw that rice cake she flung across the room! Boogers are wet, or they should be.
Me: It’s hard to argue with logic.
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Crazy Conversations (Lucky)
Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one.
Husband: What are you doing?
Me: Looking for old pictures to post online.
Husband: What’s the matter – you ran out of new ones?
Me: No, it’s Throw Back Thursday.
Husband: So that’s what TBT is. Have you seen my wallet?
Me: Look at this one. Do you remember the anniversary we spent in Las Vegas? We weren’t very lucky were we?
Husband: I don’t know about you but I got lucky quite a few times. The more you drank the luckier I got.
Me: But we didn’t win any money.
Husband: Isn’t that you standing beside a winning machine? Where did I put that billfold?!
Me: I plainly recall losing money. Maybe I just posed for the picture because you know I have never been lucky.
Husband: Well at least you’ve got lucky legs.
Me: I’m grateful that I can walk but… did you say lucky legs?
Husband: Yeah, you’re lucky they don’t break off and stab you in the butt.
Me: You should brace your abdomen when you laugh that hard so you don’t bust a gut.
Husband: Whew. You know I love you skinny legs and all.
Me: I know sweetie. By the way here’s your wallet.
Husband: Damn all of my cash is gone!
Me: Well then you’ve got yourself one lucky wallet there.
Husband: How do you figure that?
Me: You’re lucky I didn’t take your credit card too.
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“Just Pose”
“The photo challenge this week is juxtaposition. To juxtapose… as in placing two or more things side by side but for creative reasons let’s really look for contrast.” That’s all I said…
See what happens when you ask for input in my house? You get puppies nestled in pockets, a monkey riding a bobcat and me hiding behind a bunch of balloons. Oh, I tossed in the photo of the bee but it’s an old shot. We’ll consider that juxtaposed to the new.
It’s juxta puppie
I live inside a circus…
“just pose”
Just Bee-cause
Weekly Photo Challenge: Juxtaposition
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My Genetic Beginning
Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them.
Photographs of family and friends are scattered throughout this blog so instead of taking a new photograph for this challenge I thought it would be fun to share a few old ones.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
When I realized I’d rather be behind the camera.
It was a merry Christmas
My paternal grandmother.
Four generations of women.
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A Few of My Favorite Things
When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad.
I am the smile behind the lens 🙂
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Crazy Conversations (Christmas & Kitty)
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
(Ring, ring)
Me: Hello.
Bea: Did you get anything nice for Christmas?
Me: I’m fine thank you. How are you?
Bea: I didn’t ask how you were doing. Did you have a good Christmas?
Me: Yes I did. Did you?
Bea: I got the same old junk I get every year. Why do people ask you what you want if they are not going to give it to you?
Me: Did everyone make it home this year?
Bea: I have house shoes stacked waist high in my closet and enough gels and lotions to open my own Bath & Body Works.
Me: Hey that’s an idea. Maybe you could open a little shop and call it Foot & Body or Bea’s Bath & Slippers.
Bea: Don’t be absurd!
Me: It was just a thought.
Bea: Well it was a tacky little thought and besides they make perfectly good gifts for friends and in-laws.
Me: By the way thank you for the foaming cranberry soap. I love the smell and-
Bea: How is your dog? Did you get the dog anything for Christmas?
Me: Which dog? I have three.
Bea: The Chihuahua! I am not concerned about the ones that live outside.
Me: The dogs are all fine and they each got a bone for Christmas. The kids are fine too.
Merry Christmas you poor dumb dingo.
Bea: A bone?! That’s not a decent gift.
Me: They were happy with it.
Bea: Who – the children or the dogs?
Me: Both.
Bea: Well the dogs don’t know any better. You should get a cat. My Kitty would never settle for a lousy bone. Isn’t that right Kitty Kitty? Yes it is. You’re mommy’s wittle princess; her itty-bitty baby. Mommy wuvs her sweet Kitty Kitty yes she does.
Me: Did you ever consider naming her something other than Kitty Kitty?
Bea: That would be ridiculous. Her name has been Kitty Kitty for six years. Her won’t answer to anything else will you baby? No her won’t. She wuvs her name and she wuvs her mommy. She’s not like mommy’s other babies – no she’s not. She’s a good girl. Aren’t you a good girl?
Me: Should I let you go so you can talk to the cat?
Bea: Why don’t you get a cat? They are a lot smarter than dogs and they don’t stink.
Me: You know I am allergic to ninety percent of the domestic feline population.
Bea: Well you need a cat. Real writers have cats. Surely you could find one in the ten percent of the populace you are not allergic to. Have you ever tried?
Me: The other ten percent smell worse than dogs.
Bea: Malarkey! Cats do not stink.
Me: Dead cats do.
Bea: That was a cruel thing to say. She was just being facetious Kitty Kitty. She’s jealous, that what she is. Dog people are mean aren’t they? Yes they are. They are meannie weenies but mommy will protect her pretty Kitty oh yes she will. Do you want mommy to make her apologize? You do? Okay I’ll tell her –
Me: Put the cat on the phone.
Bea: Here she is.
Me: Kitty Kitty are you there?
Bea: She can hear you, go ahead.
Me: Did you ever watch a sitcom called Friends?
Bea: She has watched every single rerun at least once.
Me: Kitty Kitty do you know the song Phoebe sang?
Bea: ‘Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat what are they feeding you?’ We laugh at that every time we hear it.
Me: Well Kitty that song was written about your mother.
Bea: Don’t tell her that! Now you really need to apologize.
Me: Forgive me Smelly Jr. – I mean Kitty Kitty. I’m sorry you’re a cat – it’s not your fault.
Bea: Ignore her baby; she’s just a nasty ole dog hugger. So did you get a lot for Christmas?
Me: Are you talking to me?
Bea: Of course I am talking to you! Who else would I be talking to?
Me: I got everything I wanted.
Bea: That’s good. Listen dear, I’m already working on next year’s list and I have you down as a size 8/9 in house slippers. Do you have a color preference? I’m thinking red, blue or leopard print.
Me: The red or blue either one would be nice.
Bea: Hmm. I thought you would prefer the leopard print?
Me: I would but isn’t that what I gave you last Christmas?
Bea: Hello? Hello? The reception here is terrible. I haven’t heard a word you’ve said since your apology to Kitty. I’m sorry sweetie I’m going to hang up now – call me back in a day or two. Oh and Merry Christmas.
Me: Merry Christmas Bea.
(Click)
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The Last Man Standing
We went for the annual camp-out this past weekend. I expected a small crowd and a somber mood considering it was our first gathering on the lake since my dear aunt left this world last June and this was her thing, she loved it.
Only thirty five or forty of us were in attendance so the crowd was small but the mood was far from somber. I should have known better than to think that.
We do not dwell on sorrow. No, we mustn’t… we cannot. And we did not. Instead we laughed and reminisced about our rambunctious youth spent on the shores of Navarro Mills. A time when our numbers were more, a time when strength and stamina ran hard through our veins, a time when we were too confident to recognize the gift.
Remembering makes us aware of our weakness but we remember anyway because it also brings us comfort. These are my memories:
I remember tents dotting the landscape, fried eggs on an open campfire, horse shoes clanking, blankets of bluebonnets, chasing birds along the banks and walking for miles in the sweltering heat. Swimming in the murky water, boat rides, the smell of roasted marshmallows and fishing along the shoreline. I remember crystal clear nights and counting stars until we fell asleep, long walks to the toilet, frigid dawns stealing slumber, and anxiously awaiting the next sunrise so we could do it all again.
With nostalgia I watch our children and grandchildren between sneaking stares at the last man standing (my father’s baby brother) and hope they understand what this gathering silently implies, these things you must remember.
Navarro Mills Lake at Day Break
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Crazy Conversations (Genres)
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.
I have had genre issues concerning one title in particular so a couple of weeks ago I (finally) asked my eldest sister for an opinion. Be careful what you ask for. And the category Is…
Sister: Hey, I just called to thank you for the book.
Me: Oh you’re quite welcome. So do you have an opinion on the genre?
Sister: Well I have to tell you it started off a little staggery. You know what I mean?
Me: As in slow and unsteady, I agree. So what genre did you decide?
Sister: Clara seemed sort of dull at the beginning. I wasn’t sure what to make of her, you know? She’s rather meek and reserved.
Me: True. But what category-
Sister: Thank goodness she shines further into the story. You need to show that in the first few pages. You might omit chapter one all together or incorporate one and two. I see what you were doing there and I’m all about character development but step it up a little.
Me: The book is already out. My current problem is the specific genre. What do you-
Sister: Well no need crying over spilled milk, right? Maggie is likable. I like Maggie, she’s spunky. No wonder Linda has issues. With a name like Mucalinda and a mother who runs a voodoo shop in New Orleans. Geez!
Me: Thanks. Other than fiction would you consider it –
Sister: I hated that Lafont character! Hate is a strong word I know but I absolutely hate him. He didn’t suffer near enough in my opinion but Levi isn’t the type to torture people. He just done what needed to be done. Taking care of business, I loved that about him. So is he really a-
Me: Speaking of business I need your opinion on the genre. Remember I asked for-
Sister: Oh it’s definitely romance. It almost verges on soft porn at times if you ask me. Your brother in law couldn’t believe you wrote that. He had a time with it. Were your ears burning?
Me: You let him read it?!
Sister: Sure. He agrees with me – it’s romance.
Me: No, I don’t think so.
Sister: Yes it is! I am a seasoned noveller, you asked for my opinion now don’t argue. With the relationships and intimacy throughout you have to know it’s a romance.
Me: I really didn’t think it was. I categorized it under paranormal fiction.
Sister: Maybe as a subcategory. Now back to Levi, is he or is he not a-
Me: I’m not sure I should classify it as romance. One reader said-
Sister: I don’t give a damn what one reader said or one hundred for that matter. Do you know how many books I read a week? Sure you do that’s why you asked for my opinion. It’s a freaking romance.
Me: Okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad. So you want to know more about Levi but what about Vivian?
Sister: Vivian Cature? That wench has no redeeming qualities. I despise her.
Me: But she came from a troubled background. Aren’t you the least bit empathetic?
Sister: So what. That is an excuse! Everyone has junk in their past. No, she was looking out for number one and the way she treated her own daughter- not just the way she treated her friend but her own daughter! I don’t forgive her and I have no sympathy for her. Nope, I cannot abide such. She is a sociopath. She and that worthless man-whore deserved one another.
Me: You know they aren’t real people, right?
Sister: Well of course I know that but girl I cried twice. Oh, when Mr. O’Bromley was in the emergency room I had to get a tissue and blow my nose that just tore me up. — What are you laughing about?
Me: Nothing.
Sister: You wanted my opinion. You should be flattered that I liked it.
Me: I am. I totally am. But I really just needed help with the genre thing.
Sister: It is a blasted romance. Let’s not go over that again. Now tell me will Levi be showing up in the next book?
Me: I don’t think so.
Sister: He could. There is ample leeway for another story, maybe bring him in to the lead, I would like to see that and why on earth did you kill off-
Me: You’re positive on the genre?
Sister: Damn it girl do I have to spell it for you? Would you rather ask mother?
Me: No! Romance it is. Thank you.
Sister: Anytime. Can you at least try to expound on the Duffy character. What exactly is he? And I don’t see why you couldn’t do more with Levi.
Me: I’ll work on it.
Sister: Do that and by the way you’re not getting the book back,
Me: That’s fine, consider it a gift.
Sister: I did.
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Weekly Photo Challenge: Kiss
This weeks photo challenge is Kiss
I had almost decided to pass on the weeks photo challenge but Sunday some of the family were standing around watching Cameron retrieve a tennis ball from the roof (yeah, that’s how we play) and the idea struck me. “Hey! Y’all start kissing” I said as I readied my camera. Of course they all gave me a wary look and mumbled amongst themselves with lifted eyebrows. “It is for this week’s photo challenge” I explained. They sighed a unified ohhh, stepped back a few feet and crossed their arms. I think I would have gotten better results if the challenge had been show me your naked butt. I considered using the kiss and make up card but there was no circumstance to warrant such harsh punishment. I was left with nothing but kiss my… when Cameron (now off of the roof) went in to action. He is my partner in pictures and has helped me more than once with a photo challenge. We all know he loves to take pictures but [hApPy dance] he also takes direction well. “Work it Cam. Worrrkk it.”
Happy Kisses
Kisses to comfort and bless.
Brace yourself. The Kissing Bandit
Playful Pecks
The Real Janna Hill in 