Let Your Light Shine

How many times can you sing the first line of a song in your head when you spend all day working in the yard? At least a gazillion! I know, because yesterday while I was outside playing in the dirt, I sang the first line of the anthem our choir did on Sunday...over and over and over. Talk about aggravating. Even when I tried to concentrate on something else, "Let your light shine" crept in unwanted.
I am having such a hard time concentrating on work this morning. And I'm not even singing, "Let your light shine." I just don't want to be here. Whenever we have an extra day off, the rest of the week seems to crawl. I'd rather be outside with all my new flowers.
I got notification Saturday that I'll be in the master gardener's class starting in August. I'm really looking forwad to it. I treid to get in last year, but was too late. Now all I have to do is figure out how to get the time off.

Brain Fog

You know it's going to be one of those days, when you roll over in bed to get up and hurt your neck. Then...I was all ready to go and on my way out the door when I happened to look down and see I had on one black and one brown shoe. At least I discovered my faux pas before I got to work. Tuesday, I got to my cubicle and realized that the blouse I had picked out to go with the brown pants I was wearing was a mistake. The pants were olive green. Yecch!

Some days my brain is in such a fog I can't do anything right. People speak to me and I can't understand a word they say. In desperation I ask, "Are you speaking English?" That simply earns me a stare as if I'd sprouted little purple antennae.

I forgot to mention, I pulled into the parking garage as usual. Swung around to back into a space, when suddenly I decided I'd better look in my rearview mirror again. It's a good thing I did. I was in a perfect position to back into one that was already occupied. I'd failed to pull forward far enough.

So far there has been one redeeming moment to this morning. I watched a gorgeous sunrise on my way in. That's one of the few perks to leaving the house by 6:15. Wait...I guess I should make that two redeeming moments. I got here in one piece.

Monday-Monday

Isn't there a Beatles song called Monday-Monday? Of course, if your too young to remember the Beatles, I guess you don't know what I'm talking about. Where did the weekend go? I can't believe two days can go by so fast and here I am again staring at blueprints and my computer screen. AARG!

I'm working on a screenplay and finding out it's hard work. There's so much to think about. Most of all would someone consider making it into a movie? Then, would anyone go to see it? Writing short stories or even a novel is a lot easier.

I was just checking to see if I could post a picture twice. The first time was more of an accident.

Saturday

I lied. Summer has arrived with a vengeance. Oh for those cool days we enjoyed this spring. This weekend hit 90+ degrees and I'm out there like I had good sense. The yard looks great but all the irises I transplanted last year went utterly berserk. I expected to get up one morning and see them working their way under the doors and through the windows.

No more though. I was ruthless ripping those suckers out by the roots. There are a few left, but they'll come back again...and again and again. I should start my own mail order business selling irises. They're more prolific than the weeds, and that's saying a whole bunch. Maybe I can pawn them off on someone at work. Too bad the grass doesn't grow as aggressively.

Well now that I've cooled off a little bit, time to hit the shovel detail again.

This is how I felt this mornings.

Ranting

Have you ever been standing in your closet trying to decide what to wear when it comes to you that you hate all of your clothes? Worse yet, they've all shrunk! How can anything shrink just hanging there in the dark? I have to diet and exercise in order to keep gravity from running rampant. Why should my clothes shrink when I don't?
My mother used to tell me, "Just wait until you have children, then you'll put on weight." Another of her pearls of wisdom was, "When you go through the CHANGE, you'll put on weight." Sound redundant? Anyway, when I had my first kid at 35, I suddenly sported cleavage for the first time in my life. "Way to go", I thought. Little did I know it was just the beginning. It wasn't long before I felt like a milk cow!
Were Mom's prophesies self-fulfilling? Just like when the media predicts a recession. Tell a person something often enough, they start to believe it. Next thing you know, we're in the middle of a recession (or a clothes shrinkage epidemic).
I'm loath to admit I've gained weight. How could that possibly be true? I much prefer to think a gang of nasty little elves snuck into my closet while I was sleeping and switched them with Twiggy's. If you don't know who Twiggy is, just envision the name and you'll get the idea.
I HATE ALL MY CLOTHES! It's a good thing it's Friday and I can wear baggy sweats for the weekend.

My Poetry

Tongue Lashing


While my pen may be glib and debonair,
my tongue is a stumblebum, a nitwit and fool
Give me a writing tool, and I wax eloquent, yet
I hide in embarrassment when required to speak.
My mouth suddenly belongs to the enemy camp,
not sweet little me.
I’ve been told dyslexia is a vision disorder.
Yeah right!
Someone should tell that to my naughty tool of ignoble disgrace.
For, it’s plain to see,
my tongue and brain operate on different wave lengths,
and under the rigors of a space time warp simply too weird to be.
My mind hangs out at the Taj Mahal,
or Tahiti, or perhaps even Shangrila
While my tongue takes orders from some blind creature
transmitting in garbled Braille
from the deepest depths of the ocean blue.
Although, I’ve heard rumors it’s actually Poughkeepsie you see.
“Hello, how are you?” comes out,
“My big purple toe fell off my face.”
I know what I want to say,
but my tongue cannot find the words.
Truly, it must be out for a snack.
At best, I utter, “Bu, burble, goo…”
That’s fine for babies, but not for me.
It only behaves when wrapped around a stiff….
Well, perhaps that’s better left unsaid.
I think you get my drift.
Just give me a pen,
and I’ll write you a poem of epic proportion,
but…don’t ask me to utter more than two words together
and call it a sentence.
For you see, I will fail miserably.

Writing Assignment

This weeks writing assignment was to combine five known animals into one and then describe it's behavior.

The Buffabeavphantfelikomodo
(Buffalo-beaver-elephant-feline-komodo dragon)





My first sight of the Buffabeavphantfelikomodo was truly frightening. Actually, I heard it first snuffling through the woods on cat like paws and with the grace of an elephant. It was about the size of an elephant at that with the broad shaggy shoulders of a buffalo. With a long powerful swipe of a reptilian tail, it cleared the path in its wake. The air rang with a bellowing trumpet from the creature’s long, prehensile snout.
Our guide had warned us that they were very dangerous and unpredictable animals, but Jake and I decided we wanted a close look at them on their own territory. One look at each other and we headed for the nearest tree to escape annihilation as it crested the low hummock. Leathery jaws drooling with poisonous slime, it spotted us before we were halfway up the giant sycamore.
I fully expected it to charge. Instead, it sauntered toward us like a huge feline, purring the entire time. For a minute, I thought it was going to leap up and tear us to pieces. But then it did the strangest thing. Back and forth it rubbed its sinuous, Persian haired body against the sycamore.
By then, we were starting to relax, thinking the guide and been putting us on. This guy was really a sweetheart in spite of what they said back at the preserve. But then the Buffabeavphantfelikomodo looked up to stare at us with its cold lizard like eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. If that’s true, this creature was a direct descendent of Beelzebub himself.
It’s a good thing Jake and I were holding tight to that old tree, because the Buffabeavphantfelikomodo lurched suddenly and whammed its powerful tail against the base of the tree, nearly dislodging us. Next, it tilted its massive head sideways and grinned wickedly. That scared us more than anything.
Almost gently the beast licked the sycamore, slathering its poison saliva completely around the base. Our path of escape was effectively cut off. The thing grinned at us again, revealing huge Bucky Beaver teeth. Without out warning, it chomped away half the thickness of the sycamore in a single, powerful nip.
I think it was playing with us. The Buffabeavphantfelikomodo eyed us slyly before taking another shot at our tree. This time, it took a much smaller bite. Even so, the sycamore swayed precariously when the fiend gave a playful nudge with a forepaw.
Jake screamed in panic. It would take no more than a healthy breeze to topple us to our doom. It’s been hours since then and we’re growing weary. I don’t how much longer we can hold on. The Buffabeavphantfelikomodo has curled its massive body about the sycamore and is purring like a locomotive. The thrum of its voice shudders all the way to where we hang on for dear life.

Fractured Fairytale

I belong to a writer's club and each week we have a short assignment. Last week we were to re-write a fairytale form the villians point of view. So here's my warped version of:

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

I want you to know us wolves always get a bum wrap. Take the story about that Little Red Riding Hood chick. Pure fabrication. It couldn’t be farther from the truth if they’d tried. I think it’s about time I told my side of the story.
Truth is, I was suffering from a major case of hemorrhoids that day when along comes this obnoxious little brat all decked out in her red walking frock and carrying a basketful of goodies. She’s singing (more like caterwauling) some innocuous ditty about going to see her Grandma. I didn’t want a thing to do with her, so I high tailed it out of there in a hurry.
All I wanted was a place to take a load off and stay out of the brat’s way, so I find this little cottage in the woods. It looked like a sweet setup to me. After watching for a while I decided no one was home. So, I tiptoed in the back door as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, this big old babe is standing there in her nightclothes. What a shocking experience.
Well, the old bat starts hollering to beat the band, so I try to back out gracefully, but she wasn’t having anything to do with it. I didn’t know old dames could move so fast. She came at me with a rolling pin swinging and swearing like a sailor.
With all that hullabaloo, I got confused and ran the wrong direction. My back was against the wall and I was about to get brained, so I darted between the old harridan’s legs. Ugh!
Apparently, I startled her, ‘cause she jumped ten feet in the air. When she landed, her ankle gave way and Grandma went down like a ship at sea. The old bat cracked her head on the table and she was sawing zzzzz's before I could move.
To make matters worse, (with my superior wolf hearing) I perceive the brat coming through the woods. Quickly, I rolled the old dame behind the sofa, and searched for a plan of escape. Too late, so I ran into the bedroom and grabbed a bunch of the hag’s clothes and put them on. Next I jumped into the bed just in time to hear Red pounding at the door.
Well, what was I supposed to do? I called sweetly in a high falsetto, “Come in dear. I’ve been expecting you.”
Everything would have been just fine, except Red gets nosy and starts poking at my snoot and ears. I hate anyone touching my ears and by now my hemorrhoids are killing me. I couldn't help myself, I went postal. But, I didn’t try to eat the kid like everyone claims.
Let me tell you, Grandma had nothing on me for pitching a fit. I bounced off the walls, the ceiling and the floor. In the melee, Red got knocked over and thumped her butt pretty hard on the floor. So she starts wailing like a banshee.
The racket musta roused the old lady. She starts screaming from the other room and looking for her rolling pin. Thank goodness there was a window in the bedroom and I used it. I’ll have you know I was the injured party that day. If I hadn’t leapt through the window, I’d have been a dead wolf with a raging case of hemorrhoids.

Weekend

I had a great time playing in the yard last weekend chopping the daylights out of the hedge and digging holes for new plantings. I can't belive this is the middle of May and the temp. hasn't soared to 90 degrees.
Of course Monday came around way too fast, and it's budget time of the month. Every year I handle million dollar budgets for this company and still can't balance my own checking account.
Jaycee is coming for dinner tonight while Allie is out of town. I think he gets tired of his own cooking (or lack of). That's alright because I always like seeing my number one brat.

Nankins Wanderings

Let's try this puppy out.