It's simple

I just needed a place to store my rope.

As Seen on TV

 

The miracle tape stops leaks.

(Not always)

On my way.

 

Scarfing up the brittle winds

with mitten covered hands

Piling drifts of winter thoughts

north of sunbaked lands,

Another season blows in me

while ovens cook the meals

Peering through the frosted glass

knowing how it feels.

Time, it gets inside of me

grows silent in the snow

Just wrap me up in muffins 

I’ll take a few to go.

 

My Little Cat - Ann Droid

 

She purrs each time she shouldn’t

if called, she will abort –

connect, sometimes she wouldn’t

seems a pixel short,

Fatter than a cat should be

wider than a Chapel,

often it is plain to see

I should have named her Apple.

They were once called Thugs

 

    Selling protection was a racket.  The weak were subjected to their threats and intimidation.  Today, they are the greedy rich.  If you don’t want this constant bombardment of advertising, you need to pay us more.

“But we already pay for this.”

Too bad, now we want more.

 

They’re still thugs.

 

 

 

One of the good ones.

 

He is someone you would have enjoyed meeting.  He is a good man.  He is a husband, a father, an uncle and a friend.  He has worked hard and achieved much.  He rakes his leaves, shovels his snow and is always ready to help someone else.  He has always done the right thing.  He is both smart and wise, without being a show-off or know-it-all.  He is one of those people who, after you’ve met him, you are happier for knowing him.

Should you see him at the hardware, or supermarket, say, “Hi.” 

 

By the way, he doesn’t know I put him on my blog.  He’ll wonder who all these strangers are saying hi to him.

 

 

My Cell Phone

 

Someone’s knocking is the ring tone I have set on my phone.  When it rings it is usually my neighbor across the street wanting to remind me to set my trash out on trash day.  Or it could be my neighbor across the street letting me know that my garage door is open, and did I know that?

I automatically know it isn’t a friend calling.  They don’t.  It’s not a relative, they never do either.  Once in a while it is the doctor’s office reminding me, I have an appointment and to press 1 to confirm, 2 to cancel.

I’m spending so much a month on this phone and now I’m beginning to question why.  I know when trash day is and if I have my garage door open, it is for a reason.

Maybe life would be quiet and peaceful without someone knocking.  If I didn’t have this phone – nothing would happen, except less money would be coming out of my account each month.  The phone company wouldn’t miss me, they’d still have you paying them.  My neighbor across the street could easily walk over and say, “Do you know your garage door is open?”   Although I’d feel bad if when crossing the street he was hit by the trash truck.

Maybe  I better keep it.

 

 

 

 

The Ravens don't Care

 

There were many of them flying overhead,

over rooftops and across the vacant lots.

Seemingly uncaring -

that I, here anchored in shoes

seeing the underside of their wings,

feeling the same breeze –

knowing at any moment they’ll be gone,

can only imagine flight.

 

 

Okay, yes

 

I took one piece of candy when you were
in the other room.

What's that Thunking?

I saw in a graveyard

carved of marble and stone,

Angels complete with 

wings

they couldn't possibly fly.

Given what I know

of gravity

and the weight of death -

I wondered. 

Iron fences

rusting gates,

I, laying here

in a tangle of roots.

Who has

come here before? 

I saw in a graveyard

flowers left

widows and siblings.

So where are the angels

halos and wings

not of cement

but heavenly spirits

to carry me far

beyond the falling

 acorns.

 

 

 

Side Notes and Other Things

 

Then suddenly playtime was over

The alligator bit down on her arm.  The pain was excruciating and then some.  Just a moment before he dragged her under the water, she took a big gulp of air.  She thought if she could play dead long enough, the thing would let go of her arm.

This was a lesson in how to build a spoiler-alert into the title of your story.

 

Side note: 1

    Going down with the ship doesn’t make you a hero.  It only makes you dead.

 

Side note: 2

    Being the last to know simply means you’re not the friend you thought you were.

 

Side note: 3

    Whether or not you leave food on your plate has no effect on the starving children overseas.

 

Side note: 4

    Taking one for the team.  The team doesn’t care, if they did, they wouldn’t have put you in that position.

 

Side note: 5

    Each and every time someone says, “Here, smell this, or here, taste this.”  Just go ahead and assume it’s bad.

 

Side note: 6

    The headlines on the internet are designed to make you click on them.  If the story was real, you would have already heard about it.

 

Side note: 7

    Stay out of the ocean and you won’t be attacked by a shark.  To avoid earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, raging fires, floods and tornadoes, move someplace else.

 

And finally:

    Never look to a blog for sound advice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I actually don't want to know either.

 

An old mirror hangs at the end of a hallway.  Very few who walked past it ever pay much attention to it.  There is nothing fancy about the frame and the lighting in the hall is not that inviting, or flattering.

The ones that actually take notice of the mirror see instantly what it is and are either intrigued by it or frightened.  Reflections in the mirror are not in the present.  Everyone standing directly in front of it is reflected as they will look in the future.

It isn’t known exactly how far into the future the reflections are, but if you do not appear in the reflection, it is because you will no longer be around.  The few aware of the mirror’s power do not want to know if they’ll be dead, so they always avoid looking into it, or even talking about it.

I heard about it from a co-worker.  She seemed to think it was some trick the building manager has set up, so she treats it like it is a joke.  I don’t know one way or the other but still wanted a picture of it for my blog, so I stood off to the side and snapped this photograph.  If it is, in fact, some computer trick, it is a good one.

 

 

 

It's not true

 

my bite is a lot worse.

His name is GPS

 

"Your other left."

We stayed together

 

For the kids.

Autopsy

 

No one wants to be seen like this.

Out for a Walk

 

I see them in the early morning, tugging their humans along on a leash.  Some happy to be once again outside, while others still in the throws of waking up.   The older ones walking quietly, too early for socializing, the young ones barking hello to everyone they see, almost dragging their humans to hurry.

I, with my coffee, inside, warm and quiet, type this for you to read at this moment.  I wonder what your view is.  Do you have a window?  Are you seeing life outside. 

And what of trees?  Have you a forest, alive with wild things, sounds and perhaps mysteries?  Should you ever hunt for mysteries, you need but look to the shadows.  They are there, trust me.  Never obvious, they tend to lurk.  They are without wings, but teeth for sure.

The humans feel mostly safe, tethered to their walkers.

 

7PL-27

 

I can show you this much only.  Nothing in this picture is proprietary, although I did have to sign a waiver stating I am not in competition with them and am not associated with anyone or any company that is.

Here is the part you may find hard to believe, I know I did, but then I saw it for myself.  There are no fluids within the working mechanism.  The entire thing runs on chocolate.  Yes, a simple chocolate bar can run this for an entire month.  It leaves no byproduct, no exhaust, fumes or identifying markers.

By looking at this section, you might think the entire thing is quite simplistic.  Truth is, if you were to see other parts of this, you’d wonder what kind of brain power thought this up?  Surely, not just one person, and yet – it was.

When fully operational, it works to voice commands, and the spoken language makes no difference.  Once this is released to the public, you’ll understand why there is such tight security around it.  Just try not to judge it by this picture.  It’s all I can get for now.

 

 

 

 

Not all that exciting.

 

I suppose I could have been born a frog, destined to sit in a swamp, eating bugs, knowing some day I was going to croak.

 

Drone Photo

 Hurricane Ethyl brought flood waters up to and around Larry's cabin.  He refused to evacuate, even though he was out of beer.

A couple first responders indicated they might risk making a beer run.  (Reportedly friends of Larry)

The Family Outing

 

It was a fairly nice morning, so she carried the laundry basket out to the backyard.  She liked hanging the clothes on the line instead of using the electric dryer.  She felt they dried with a certain freshness to them that the drier didn’t provide.

One by one she took a wooden clothespin from the pocket of her apron, and with that familiar squeak, pressed them onto the line, securing each garment in place.  The breeze would take care of the rest.

Having completed one row, she turned to pull the laundry basket over a little closer to the next, that’s when she noticed a rather large racoon standing next to the basket, his front feet on the edge of the basket, as he leaned in to sniff the clothes.

She didn’t want to reach down to pluck a skirt from the basket, as that might startle the thing, but she also didn’t want it jumping in, on top of the clean, damp clothes.  It didn’t appear dirty, but who knew what creepy little bugs were on that thing?

As she tried to scare it away with her words, the clothesline she had just loaded began to bounce.  She looked at the clothes now bouncing up and down and she followed the line with her eyes.  A second racoon was sitting on the top of the clothes pole and testing the line to see if it would hold him.

“No!” she yelled, but the animal didn’t even bother to look up at her.  For some odd reason, it felt it needed to walk across the clothesline.  She couldn’t figure why these things were suddenly so inquisitive about her laundry, and they sure weren’t bothered by her being right there.

The movement of the basket brushed against her leg.  She looked back down just as the third baby racoon was climbing into the clothes basket.  Now, for sure, she knew she couldn’t  snatch the basket up.  The mother would surely fight to protect her young ones.

Maybe it was the scent of the detergent that had attracted them.  Nothing like this had happened before.  She knew for sure that now she would have to wash them all over again, and that was not something she was looking forward to.  Behind her she could hear a car coming down the dirt road.  All her neighbors knew to drive slowly whenever they noticed laundry out on the line, in order to keep the dust down.

Mrs. Gregory slowed to a stop and stared at her neighbor surrounded by racoons.  Her mouth hung open.  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  They were in her laundry basket, climbing along the line and sitting on top of the clothes pole.  She rolled her window down and yelled, “You really should get an electric drier, my dear.” then rolled her window back up and drove off down the road.

 

 

 

 

 

The Lure of the Darkness

 

I have switched my monitor so that the page I am typing on is black instead of white, and the letters show up as white.  It turns out that looking at a blank black page is somewhat like peering into a dark room.  I wonder what is in there.  I know there is a story, but what is it about?

Is this to be a mystery - a who-done-it?  Maybe it is a simple tale of a lonely can of beans, rolling back and forth across the deck of a ship, as it makes its way to the next port.  The vacationers in the cabin below wonder what that strange noise is.  Should they report it?  Has something important broken lose from the ship, and maybe the captain should be made aware of it? 

Then again, maybe they will just investigate for themselves.  What does it matter if it is dark out and everyone else is still sleeping.  Just how spooky can a strange ship at night be, anyway? 

Once we leave this room, we just need to walk down a very long hallway, past everyone’s cabin, make our way to the stairs and then try and find the area over our room.  How hard can that be?  And will we still hear the noise once we’re up there?

So far, I'm liking the black page system.  It seems to have much more adventure in it than staring at a boring white page.

We'll have to see how it goes.

 

 

It has Always been on the Menu

 

The saltshaker was tipped over, the handle on the syrup was coated and sticky, napkins were on the floor and the highchair was covered with spilled cereal. 

The waitress paused in her tracks, staring at the mess the family had left.  She could see there was no tip anywhere in sight.

Standing, frozen, contemplating her choices, she could hear her boss yelling for her to pick up the pace.

Across the restaurant, sitting at a window table was a woman watching the waitress agonizing over her situation.  As the waitress saw the customer's expression she felt a knowing, a deep understanding, and she knew what had to be done.

Today's special was in her purse.  It hung heavy on the coatrack in the backroom.  She carried it because of the neighborhood, but maybe today she didn't feel like being yelled at.  Maybe today, the neighborhood would be the least of everyone's problems. 

She turned back towards the kitchen, where other waitresses and busboys were busy with their sections.  She didn't stop at the counter.  In fact, as if she were in a trance, she walked past the cash register and into the back room, her manager still snapping at her.  At the coatrack, she reached into her purse and pulled out the chrome 38 caliber pistol her brother had bought for her.  It felt heavy and cold.  She knew it was loaded, it was always loaded.  Her brother had always told her, "If it isn't loaded, it's a paperweight."  Today is not the day for a paperweight, she thought.

As she walked back out into the dining area, she didn't even try to hide the gun.  She glanced around the room and in a clear, loud voice said, "Cover your ears, this is going to be loud."

There wasn't the slightest hesitation in her action.  When she reached the messy table, she took aim and shot the first dinner plate.  It was indeed very loud.  People screamed and most everyone ran for the door.  The plate shattered and sent bits everywhere.  The bullet carried on through and splintered the table, then punched a good-sized hole into the tile floor.  She shot again, hitting the syrup container and splitting the back of the highchair.  The bullet followed it's path to the cash register, causing the price of $118.40 to pop up.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.  It startled her, and she jumped a bit.  "Are you all right, Arlene?  It was her friend and co-worker, Nancy Velasco. "You've been standing here, just staring.  What's going on?"

Arlene looked at her.  "I'm fine.  I guess I was just day dreaming.  Maybe I need a vacation."  Arlene glanced around the restaurant.  Everything was normal, people were eating and talking about their day.  She looked over at the lady sitting by the window.  The lady was looking back at her with a slight smile.  She shrugged.  Arlene wondered if she knew just how close she came to really having something to talk about. 

The End

Don't forget to tip your waitress.

 

With Cell Phone Technology

 

For the most part, I drive by sound.  I can always tell when something about my car doesn’t sound right.  The tricky part is describing the strange sound and its location to the auto mechanic.

So far, I have a good track record.  “It is a grinding noise, coming from the right back wheel.”  Low and behold, it was something called a wheel hub, and I needed a new one.

A friend of mine drives at a disadvantage.  He cannot hear as well as the rest of us, so various noises are left unattended until they become very obvious problems.  Both his situation and mine require a checkbook reduction, although his has the potential of being much greater, as things left unattended many times create bigger more expensive issues.

My thought here is that the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) should have some kind of transportation allowance for such cases.  Just as cities provide bumps at crosswalks for the blind, the ADA could have funds available for noises less heard.

Okay, so maybe I haven’t thought about this completely, but you get the idea.  Maybe the auto manufacturers could install volume enhancers to those parts that most commonly fail.   Example:  Squeaky brakes would, for the deaf, be extremely loud and like cell phones, vibrate at the same time.

 

Okay, maybe not.

 

For those of you keeping track...

 

I am adding Spanish Moss to the list of things we don’t really need.  This makes three things.  The first being mosquitoes, the second is typewriter ribbon and now Spanish Moss.

Thank you

 

As Standard Equipment

 

My new car came with optional ejection seats.

1.    Driver Seat

2.    Driver & Passenger

3.    Back seat driver

Game over.

 

Sitting in the bleachers is not at all comfortable.  The seats are hard, it is cold and windy, and the view is much better on television.  But here’s the thing, the excitement is real, the crowd is experiencing everything at the same time, so it is a shared excitement.  The food is expensive but tastes authentic.  The highs and lows flow through everyone together.  When it is all over, whether you win or lose, there is a feeling of accomplishment.  You’ve done something, even if it is just to watch from a distance.

Life is different.  You can’t just watch it taking place, you’ve got to suit-up and get into the game.  It’s up to you to become familiar with the rules.  Sure, you might get hurt, but it’s all part of the game.  The thing to remember is there is no running out of bounds.  You can’t stop the clock.  When the final whistle blows – that’s it. 

By the way, just in case there is a life after this one, save your ticket stub.  It may be good for something.  You never know.

 

School Spirit

 

Spirit seems a wispy thing

not solid like a brick,

It’s gone with just

the slightest breeze

or when the light goes “click”

It isn’t made

from anything

yet power sure increases,

when adding up

and plugging in

the sum of all its pieces.

Scarlet Knights

for running backs –

Spartans hold the line,

Badgers never stand

a chance –

With yardage

hard to find.

Golden Gophers

digging in –

Hawkeyes soon attack -

Wildcats and Buckeyes

get a Nickelback,

Cornhuskers & Hoosiers

make offensive guards –

The center snaps

Just like a twig

When landed on

by lard,

Wide receiver Terrapins

go long

then cut around –

Wolverines run straight ahead

then predictably fall down,

Illini keeps on fighting

there’s a flag

upon the play

Boilermakers, everyone

the coach

is going to pay.