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Welcome to my nightmare….

So after much thought and deliberation, here I am with a blog.  I plan to put a lot of things I’ve already written (and I will let you know stuff like “this was written in FB on   /  /  .”), as well as general musings, and probably a bunch of stuff about my weight loss (man do I have a LOT to say about that).  I welcome you, I warn you, and I send you on your way.  Stay on the path, be out of the woods before dark, and don’t trust the wolf that says he knows a shortcut.  He’s full of crap.

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Cindy the Chicken

My grandpa on my dad’s side lived in Newark, California.  He (like us) had chickens in the backyard. I grew up with chickens in our backyard for the first 13 years of my life.  (Believe me when I tell you, chickens are assholes. They are just jerks. I have met maybe 2 cool chickens in my entire life.)  One day, my grandpa was out in his front yard when, I shit you not, this random chicken just came walking down the street. He opened the front gate, and she came right in.  Then she followed him around to the backyard, he opened the gate to the chicken coop, and she walked right in, like it was home.
My grandpa didn’t know anyone else in the area who had chickens, so he had no idea who she belonged to.  He decided to put some flyers up as he didn’t want someone to be without their pet or (possibly) their dinner,  but nobody responded. He kept her and named her Cindy. Cindy the Chicken.
Along with the chickens, he also had two dogs.  Buttons was a generic bird dog of some kind, and Mammoth was a big sheepdog.  Every day, my grandpa would nap in a lawn chair in the garage with the door open.  One day, grandma went out to check on him.

He was asleep in his lawn chair, with Buttons on one side, Mammoth on the other …and Cindy the Chicken fast asleep on his big pot belly.

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BABY SHARK (doo doo doo doo doo doo)

This is a 100% true story, from both memory and the gaps filled in from the mom unit.

When I was just a wee tot (5 years old), we took a cross-country flight to visit my dad’s relatives in Miami.  We even went to Disney World, but most of my memories are of spending day in and day out in the swimming pool.

One day we took the rental car and went to some beach to fish off the dock.  The biggest memory I have is of getting out of the car and promptly throwing up from car sickness.  I still remember looking down the puddle of puke between my feet in my little white sandals, and being surprised that Fruity Pebbles looked exactly the same after it came back up.  My dad asked if I was ok, and I said that yes, I felt better, actually, so down the dock we went.
We found a spot at the end, and my dad got me all set up with my little kiddie fishing pole that was just a little cheap thing since we weren’t going to be bringing it home.  He got my brother set up as well, and there we sat with about a dozen or so other people fishing around us. I was bored, like most kids are when surrounded by grownups. There were some people scuba diving a ways away, and I watched when they would pop up here and there and tried to guess to myself where they’d pop-up next.

I suddenly was sure I felt a tug on the line of my little kiddie fishing rig.  So I told my dad. He said, “No you didn’t, it’s just the waves pulling it.” Even at 5, I saw the flaw in that logic: I hadn’t felt a tug until just now.  Had it been the water, I’d have felt it from the start.  Then, I felt it again. And tried to tell him again. And he told me the same thing.  Again.
Then I felt it a third time.  I said, “Daddy…” He turned, exasperated and started, “I told you-”  he was cut off as my fishing line went tight and started to unreel at an alarming rate.  He grabbed my little kiddie pole and started trying to pull in whatever I had on the line.  He was really fighting, and the little pole looked like it was about to snap.
Everyone on the dock was watching my dad fighting this thing.  Suddenly, what was on my line splashed up out of the water. It looked like a REALLY BIG fish.
Then suddenly, it splashed back in the water, and my line went slack.
My dad reeled it in, and looked at the hook.
It had been a standard J-shaped fishing hook, but it was now straight.  As we tried to piece everything together, a few people on the dock and the scuba divers confirmed the truth:
“Mister, your little girl almost caught a baby shark.”

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Another Flash Fiction

Since my loyal readers (all two of them!) got excited over the last flash fiction story, I thought I’d post another one I wrote.  The best thing about this is that I read it to the mom unit and when I got to the end, she said, “I didn’t see that coming!”  I thought she would, considering she knows what an ass I can be.
So the picture that was our prompt is below, and I present to you “Golden Evening”.

We were sitting on a bench in the park.  We had only been there for a short time. He sat stiffly, with his arm around me.  So quiet, so cold. I knew our time was almost over. I knew it would be our last night together.
I knew.
I saw someone walk through the park, getting into their car.  They paused, saw us, and gave a friendly wave. I smiled and waved back.  He didn’t, just staring straight ahead. He never did. The person got into their car and drove away.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” I asked him.  “The leaves in those trees, they make the sky look gold, don’t you agree?”  As always, he stayed quiet.

I stood, helping him to his feet, and we disappeared into the thicket of trees.
“Goodbye, my love,” I said, dropping his body, already dead for several hours in the hole I had already dug.  “Goodbye forever.”

Hope you liked it, LOL!

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Red Clouds

I know, I know!  I’ve been bad!  I’ve been gone for so long, but sometimes life just comes and kicks you in the butt.  There’s nothing new and exciting (yet, but stay tuned, you never know), but I thought I’d share a little story with you.  This is a little story I wrote for a flash fiction contest (that I lost).  The only prompt was 150 words or less, and a photo similar to the one you see here:

Without further ado, I present to you “Red Clouds”.

Adjusting her pack, she looked around.  How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Even longer?  Looking down at the scruffy dog who had started following her a while back, she asked it, “What do you think, dog?”  The dog just cocked its head at her quizzically.
She never thought she would be a survivor.  She wasn’t sure how long she would survive. She was alone, and had been since the bomb.   In sheer desperation, she had taken shelter in a root cellar when the sirens went off, and managed to survive.  She hadn’t seen another person, living, dead, or otherwise since she’d come out.
Spotting the strip mall parking lot, she wasn’t surprised when the lights came on.  They were far enough from the blast site so they hadn’t shattered, and these things were on timers.  She and her scraggly unnamed companion would take shelter inside one of the abandoned stores. There was bound to be some bedding, maybe even a mattress.  The sun was setting, and the clouds were red.

But they were always red, nowadays.


Hope you enjoyed it!

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Tales From the Funeral Home

It’s true, I live across the street from the backdoor of a mortuary.  And let me tell you, when you have nothing better to do than look out your kitchen window at any given time, you…see some shit.
I have seen the casket company deliver the “new models”.  The place is actually called Batesville Casket Company.
I have also seen the hearse pull up to the back door and unload a gurney.  With a body bag on it.

One day, I nearly had a heart attack.
I saw two young people wheeling a gurney out the back door WITH A BODY ON IT.  No body bag, no sheet, just a body.  I watched as the fought and struggled with the gurney to get the legs to collapse so they could put it in the back of the hearse, while the body on it was jostled about.  Then, when they finally succeeded, the body SAT UP and high-fived them.  I guess they were in training for something.

So yeah, if the zombie apocalypse happens (there is also another mortuary about 2 blocks away), we are screwed.

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Lazy Ass

Thought I’d drop in today and tell you the true story about the laziest guy I ever dated.

When I met him (and throughout our short relationship), he was overweight.  It didn’t bother me, after all, nobody’s perfect, but he told me it bothered him.  He had a juicer and used to do 1-2 day juice fasts occasionally, but he never exercised.  I will be the first to say exercising sucks, but doing a juice fast once a month will NOT help you lose weight, especially if you eat crap.  He and his roomies did.  There were takeout food containers (with food in various states of decay) literally covering every surface in the kitchen and the coffee table and filling the fridge – they never cooked.
He wouldn’t work out, even though the apartment complex he lived in had an exercise room.  It wasn’t the best, but it was SOMETHING.  Not only that, it was in the same area as the laundry room.  I told him it was perfect: put in your laundry, and workout while it’s getting clean.  Two birds with one stone.
But he hated doing laundry.
Laundry isn’t anyone favorite thing, but sooner or later you HAVE to do it.  Unless you are unbelievably lazy.  And this is where that comes into play.
I needed a new mouse for my laptop, and he had seen some at Ross.  So we went there, and he wandered off while I looked for a mouse.  I found a cute tiny one that was purple, so I got that, and some earbuds in the shape of little skulls, then went off in search of him.  I found him in the bedding aisle looking at sheets.  He had a package in his hand and said, “I think I’m gonna get these.”  He hadn’t said anything about needing or wanting sheets, but whatever.  He HAD, however, talked about needing to wash his sheets but he didn’t want to.  I said, “With these and your other sheets, you’ll have nice full load.  But wash it in cold in case the colors in the new sheets run.”
He looked at me like I was nuts.  Turns out he was buying new sheets so he wouldn’t have to wash the ones he was using.  He would just put the new sheets on and deal with the dirty ones “later”.
I said, “You can’t do that.  When the sheets are packaged, the put chemicals on them to make them look nice and wrinkle-free in the package.  You NEED to wash them first.”
He argued with me, “No I don’t!”  I pointed to the front of the package where it said, “Wash Sheets Before Using”.
That made him really mad, and guess what?  He didn’t buy the sheets and complained for the rest of the day.
The boy was so lazy, that he would rather drive to the store and waste money buying new sheets than wash the ones he already had.

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My ER Visit, Migraines, and the Books I Read This Year

So if you know me, you know that I have suffered from debilitating migraines for almost 30 years.  For most of those years I would go months, sometimes even years, without having one.  But in the last few years, they have become more prevalent.  I started keeping track in 2017, and in that year I had 36 migraine days.
In 2018, I had 75.

When I have them, these aren’t “bad headaches”.  These are crippling, blinding, nauseating things.  I cannot have any lights on at all, to the point that I put on those little blindfolds you use to sleep.  I have no sense of balance, I can’t stand the smell of anything, and sound seems amplified to 11.  Imagine your worst hangover multiplied by 100, and imagine it lasting for four days on average.  That’s pretty much what it’s like.

Twice last year, in November and December, I had to go to the emergency room.  They gave me morphine which got rid of the pain, thankfully.
This year, I had to go to the ER on New Year’s Eve.  Yep.  They couldn’t give me morphine because of the meds I am on for the migraines (which obviously aren’t working), so they started with a bag of fluids.  It was a mix of Reglan, high dose Benadryl, and Magnesium.  After the first bag was done, I wasn’t feeling any better, so they gave me a second bag, and a dose of Ketamine.
I still hurt, but the Ketamine made me care a lot less about it!  I was finally discharged at 10 p.m. and headed home, in bed by 10:30.
Hope your New Year’s was more fun!

Every year, I have a goal to read 12 books.  Real books, with pages you turn, not stuff online (although I read a lot of that as well).  I ended up reading 17 books this year, and here’s the list.

1)  The Walking Dead, Book Ten -Robert Kirkman (these are big volumes complied of several issues of the comics).
2) The Walking Dead, Book Eleven – Robert Kirkman
3) The Walking Dead, Book Twelve – Robert Kirkman
4) The Walking Dead, Book Thirteen – Robert Kirkman
5) The Walking Dead, Book Fourteen – Robert Kirkman
6) I Was a TV Horror Host – John Stanley
7) Between A Rock and a Hard Place – Hipsy Bohannon
8) Encyclopedia Of Mistresses – An Under-the-Covers Look at the “Other Women” of History’s Most Influential Men – Dawn B. Sova, Ph.D.
9) Zen In the Art Of Writing – Releasing the Creative Genius Within You – Ray Bradbury
10) Zero Waste Home: The Ultimate Guide to Simplifying Your Life by Reducing Your Waste – Bea Johnson
11) Extreme Couponing: Learn How To Be a Savvy Shopper and Save Money…One Coupon At a Time – Joni Meyer-Crothers with Beth Adelman
12) Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Home : No-Nonsense Advice That Will Inspire You to Clean Like the Dickens – Thelma Meyer
13) Brave – Rose McGowan
14) Dietland – Sarai Walker
15) Waste Free Kitchen Handbook: A Guide To Eating Well and Saving Money By Wasting Less Food – Dana Gunders
16) The Tightwad Gazette II: Promoting Thrift as a Viable Alternative Lifestyle – Amy Dacyczyn
17) Ecothrifty: Cheaper, Greener Choices For a Happier, Healthier Life – Deborah Niemann

Feel free to contact me if you have any questions about the books I’ve read.

Until next time, keep warm – it’s freezing over here!