My Pet Goldfish – Fluffy.

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My pet goldfish “fluffy” was very special to me. He was much much more than just some pretty fins and some scales.

In a landlocked wheat field of a world where almost every other animal was routinely herded with a horse, a tractor, or whatever humans were not combining or picking rocks . . . he was refreshingly different.

For one thing, he blew bubbles.

And he was a great listener. Continue reading

The Peacocks Took Our Sanity and Maybe Some of The Cats.

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My grandfather brought some peacocks back with him from an auction sale once. We didn’t have the shopping channel when I was growing up, but if we had, and my grandfather could have figured out a way to trade chickens and cows for steak knives and comfort bras … he would have so been into the whole thing.

I don’t think he noticed that the guy selling the peacock looked like a crack addict even though it would be years before anyone invented crack … or that he dropped the birds off and ran back to his truck … or that there were drool marks all down his shirt and a hole in one elbow of his shirt that was definitely gnawed through with human teeth … my grandfather was not very observant, which actually explains a lot about how we got away with so much growing up. Continue reading

When You Have Been Out Standing in The Field So Long Your Legs Are Tired – Make Shit Up.

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You know how when you are out standing in the field for hours and days and years, waiting for life to happen, for the band to arrive and to recognize the incredible superstar material you have always been … and then no-one shows up and suddenly your legs are aching and suddenly you realize  . . . you have cellulite?

That’s when the wheat starts talking to you and you think, ” hmmm, maybe grasshopper was right.  I should look at a few things in my life and do a New Year’s Resolution List.”   Now I am not totally buying into this stuff about me being responsible for my life and stuff … I still think my grandparents have a lot to answer for but I am willing to give this another go. Continue reading

The Scary Scary Christmas Story of When My Brother was a Cheap Skate.

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photo by Julie Waterhouse

Degifting:  The act of replacing useless and pointless merchandise with something more meaningful, such as a charitable donation, service project or holiday party.

 

My brother has always been into “degifting.” It is actually a swell idea … especially if you do not have any money for Christmas … make it all seem like a big political choice or some benevolent act on your part.  Like who actually checks up on whether the village in Africa actually got a new well so everyone could have clean drinking water or counts how many of those turtles swimming the ocean are tagged with your name?? Continue reading

My First Love. True Confessions. Not all of them are mine.

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Someone asked me about my first love the other day …. Ok it wasn’t an actual “Someone” as in “another person in a different body someone” but I distinctly heard a voice that was not my own, in my head, that said, “Hey, how about your first love?”  And then they sat down with cookies and milk and that is the universal symbol for “I am not leaving until I get a story.”

I assumed they meant the one that came after my first first love ever … which of course is me.

It was really romantic.  (the second love, not the one with me … I was easy) Continue reading

Sweet Potatoes are Evil.

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I hate it when something like this comes up and I have to do written apologies … especially to my children.

I can’t tell you the amount of stationary that has been invested in as I am getting older.  I may die from writer’s cramp.  I have had to write to Hallmark to ask them if they could come up with some new cards to say “Sorry, mom was wrong . . . again.” Continue reading

Personal Space.

Personal Space.

I do this frequently. I learned it by accident when I was in Jr. High and there as this boy I liked but all the other girls liked him too. My brother always licked all the cookies so that no-one else would eat them while he went out to do chores and that always worked for him… so I licked the boy.

I have never stood so alone on a playground in my life. I got to choose any swing I wanted. Now I regularly lick people who are in my way. You should try it. Write and tell me how it goes.

I care.