photography

The People of Puerto Vallarta

/ Janna Hill / 1 Comment

A couple of weeks ago (see Crazy Conversations) I mentioned going to Mexico with my daughter. I failed to mention my daughter’s friend was accompanying us, but I am so glad she did. She is a cute little thing and full of surprises. You should have seen the baggage handler’s face when she jumped out of the suitcase.

Priceless!
Sadly, she had to pay for the return flight.

Unrestricted buffet, endless alcoholic beverages and cup after cup [after cup] of elot’e made it impossible for her to fit back into the luggage. I am not even going to mention the ice-cream! I suppose all of those extra pounds calories put her over the edge.

That’s the only rationale I have to explain her picking a fight with a mild-mannered radio host at KISS FM, Big Al. It was a terrible sight! Her screaming and punching and cursing at him– she called him everything but Al!

All of that drama just because he sat down beside her. Brooke (800x552)

She is usually so sweet and passive.

As I said, she is full of surprises.
I could only watch in shock.

Thank goodness, the airline had not seated us together.

I glanced across the aisle at my daughter with one of those inquisitive mother looks. You mom’s know what I mean.

She responded by denying that she knew the poor girl and told the stranger sitting beside her, “she should be locked away.” When the polite stranger agreed, she went on to say,

“I had to have my mother put away.”

Of course, that piqued the stranger’s curiosity and she went on to ask why.

“She just lost her mind. Waking up at all hours of the night, clinking cups and banging doors, talking to herself… making up stories and laughing for no apparent reason… I couldn’t get a moments rest.”Jessica (800x532)

Hmm. See why I love this kid?!

Almost as much as I love the people of Puerto Vallarta.

The Thinker, Buddy & The Gossiping Reeboks.

/ Janna Hill / 1 Comment

Why I chose The Thinker for the final post of National Poetry Month.

A few months ago we acquired Buddy from a lovely family after our Blue Heeler was killed. His prior family said they couldn’t keep him (for a number of reasons), said they hadn’t even named him but I suspect they were fibbing; a little white lie to ease our grief.

Right away our family asked what we were going to name this little fellow. Without thinking (in my typical weird, off the cuff manner) I blurted out, “He told me his name is Patrick, but that we could call him Buddy.” The grand-kids believed me, excited that I could communicate with dogs. The children mumbled something about having me committed. I just smiled and thought, at least I don’t talk to shoes.

Weather casts a green hue (1280x1229)

The Thinker

by William Carlos Williams

My wife’s new pink slippers
have gay pom-poms.
There is not a spot or a stain
on their satin toes or their sides.
All night they lie together
under her bed’s edge.
Shivering I catch sight of them
and smile, in the morning.
Later I watch them
descending the stair,
hurrying through the doors
and round the table,
moving stiffly
with a shake of their gay pom-poms!
And I talk to them
in my secret mind
out of pure happiness.

We later found out that Buddy’s name was ‘Gus’. My husband couldn’t wait to share that bit of information.  I said something like, “Aww, I knew they sacrificed their sweet puppy out of pure kindness.” He of course really wanted to make the point that the dog had NOT told me his name was Patrick.  At that point I had to be honest…

“Hmm… Well, he didn’t really say his name was Patrick.” I admitted.

“I KNEW IT!” Husband gloated.

“What he actually said was that he was born Patrick Gustav, but he prefers to be called Buddy.”

The husband politely conceded and took Buddy out to find a new stick.

I was relieved that the issue had been settled once and for all until Buddy ran back in to tell me something; a disturbing bit of gossip actually. He said after the lights are out and the house is quiet that my Reeboks snicker and mock me, they laugh at the way I run!

The shoes, of course have the right to their opinion and I (of course) have the right to stomp around in altered footwear.

I find they fit much better minus the tongue. 😉

“The Thinker” was published in Williams’s book, Sour Grapes: a book of poems (The Four Seas Company, 1921).

Don’t let poetry die from neglect or sit gathering dust until next April.

May I suggest a nice anthology by HWA,

HWA Poetry Showcase Volume I

AND I Have 25 free promo codes from Audible for Pose Prose & Poems narrated by Linda Roper if anyone is interested.

HaPpY Earth Day

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Good Night Earth

Acorns wrapping on the roof
Rhythmic as a horses hoof
The oaks are dancing soft and slow
Taking rest to later grow

The winds are singing through the trees
Turn loose you leafs, the ground needs feed
The sun retreats, withholds her light
Making for a longer night

The flowers too have made their bed
And soon will sleep with petals shed
Sleep tight nature, goodnight earth
I’ll see you at spring time’s birth.

Excerpt from Pose Prose & Poems (My Thoughts Exactly)

Thanks to Linda Roper the audiobook was released in time for National Poetry Month.

Side note: This is Linda’s audiobook debut. Imagine a British actress narrating southern poetry, better yet listen. I, myself was pleasantly surprised.

Childs Play (Dino Wars)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

There’s no school today and the natives are restless.

I’m not really sure why the children are getting a holiday. They had last Monday off in honor of Martin Luther King Jr.!  How many holidays do these kids need?

Maybe this is for the teachers?

Or maybe it is the day of the Dino Wars. Where dinosaurs and Star Wars meet in the mind of an eight year old boy.

Yes, the same grandson that shunned my attempt at writing for children has Tyrannosaurus Rex pooping a Raptor. Go figure….

Crazy Conversations (Boogers Are Wet)

/ Janna Hill / 8 Comments

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.

sisters
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.