Archive for July, 2016

By sorta popular demand, I’ve included that answer to the question, what was in your garage at the end of the story.

It was late one evening or early one morning depending on your perspective. I was finishing the last chapter of a great book (reading, not writing) when I heard a loud bang come from my garage. I could see the garage from another room in my house, so I peered across to see the garage lights on and the door open.

If I was sure of only one thing, it was I always close the garage door. All was silent, so I grabbed my home phone and called wait for it – a friend.

“Are you behind my house by any chance?” I asked.

“No, I’m in Louisville.”

“Holy crap, I think someone’s in my garage.”

“Just go check.”

Another crash. “I’m going to call (wait for it) my sister.”

I called my sister who suggested 911 might be a more appropriate group to get in touch with. I didn’t want to bother 911 in case it turned out to be nothing. But finally (3 minutes later) I decided, What the hey I’d give them a call.

The 911 operator said, “Police are already on the way. Your sister and your friend already called.”

More banging, clanging and mayhem came from the garage. As I crouched behind the kitchen island, I realized how flimsy the door between the garage and the kitchen was.

My cell phone rang. It was my friend, a man as you’ll see from the following conversation. I had him on one phone and the 911 operator on the other.

“Go see if you can see anyone outside the window,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

“What did he say?” the operator asked. I told her, she said, “NO, stay down.”

“Turn on the outside light,” friend said.

“What did he say?” the operator asked. I told her, she said, “NO, stay where you are.”

“Go listen at the garage door,” friend said.

“What did he say?” the operator asked. I told her, she said, “tell him to shut up.”

After a time of hiding in the dark behind the kitchen island, the 911 operator said, “The police are outside. Do you have a weapon?”

I said, “I have a wire hanger.”

The operator snickered and told the officers that I was armed with a wire hanger. The officers snickered but said I could hang on to the hanger if it made me feel safer.

Yes, I in a room full of knives I picked up a wire hanger and was ready to throttle any intruders.

NO MORE WIRE HANGERS. Remind you of anyone?

P.S. I slept with that wire hanger for almost six months.

Because, as it turns out it was not one, but a group of burglars. There were other break-ins in my area that started in the garage before moving into the house. The police thought that at some point they realized someone was awake and left before they finished. They were caught a few months later.


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were close but not this close

Excuse me I want out of that family.

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steam train

I was thinking about books and movies that would have been less interesting with just a twist of the name

  1. Hairy Potties It comes with great imagery too.
  2. Frydaddy the 13th. I’m imagining turkey gone bad.
  3. Lord of the Beans Sample dialogue. Where’s the beans?” “We ate them at second lunch.” Gandolf should never have brought the hungry hobbits.
  4. Hansel and Girtle
  5. Star Whores … Okay maybe that one isn’t less interesting.


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what to do with ex face tatoo

What to do with your ex’s tattoo?

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02 (5)



April 1

I was cleaning off my desk. I wanted everything to be ready, just in case. There was a pile of self help books. All designed to help you figure out what you really want to do. I keep starting them, then tossing them aside. I’m not sure I ever really performed the exercises or answered the profound questions. Why do you need so many books to answer one simple question – “what should you do with your life”? I set them aside. Possible lymphoma the doctor had said. Perhaps, if she were right, I’d go through them during chemo.

I boxed up all my paints – oils, watercolors, pastels, stabilizers, thickeners, and brushes. I doubt I’ll be using them any time soon. Perhaps I should give them to some young artist, maybe the Allen boy. Art supplies are expensive and he’s in college. He’d appreciate them.

I found the paint set I got for my tenth birthday, tubes of acrylics in a little wooden box. There were plastic inserts used to mix the paints with just the right amount of water. I used these to create my first masterpiece of a horse, Old Billy, eating grass in front of the barn. The brushes are gone, the paints dried up and the plastic inserts have disintegrated, but I think I’ll keep them just the same.

I keep thinking about my mother, diagnosed with cancer at my age, dead two years later. But I don’t have to worry, I don’t have cancer.

I sorted through some old files and found sketches I’d made in high school. When I was young, I thought I’d be an artist, a painter. I’ve been painting and drawing for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what I’ll do with these old pictures, but I can’t throw them away.

When should I tell my family? My younger sister, Allie has depended on me since our parents died. I don’t want to worry her if it turns out to be nothing, but I don’t want to wait too long either. I just don’t want to worry anyone if I don’t have to.

For more in this story, select the Meet Me By the Gate tab at the top of the page.


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black fighting

“I want you to sit in on this conference call,” my boss said on my first day. “You don’t need to say anything just listen.”

Famous last words.

“I’m John,” my fellow coworker introduced himself as he dialed the conference number. “It’s just going to be you and me in here.” He continued.

The meeting started pleasant enough and then storm clouds began gathering on the horizon. (Figuratively, not literally.)

“Are you stupid?” a voice on the other end of the phone yelled at John, as he tried to explain the system limitations for the third time.

“The constraints of the hardware won’t allow for …” John said, before he was interrupted yet again.

“I don’t care about the hardware constraints, you idiot. Just make it work. I have no problem coming over there in person. … You are going to do it my way. If you weren’t such a stupid moron …”

After several minutes of this tirade, John quietly closed his computer, got up and walked out, leaving me sitting alone with the still screaming voice on the other end of the phone.

The yelling continued for another five minutes when the voice said, “Do you understand me, John?”

I took the phone off of mute. What should I say?

“Hi. My name’s Deidra. John had to leave a while ago. Something must have come up.”


“It’s my first day, so I can’t really answer any questions. Do you need me to give John any messages?”

More silence.

“Okay, then well I look forward to working with you all. I guess the meeting is adjourned.”

I returned to my desk thinking, I am not in Kansas anymore Toto and the house missed the wicked witch of the west this time.

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why you dont tatoo your boyfriends name

Maybe we’ll think twice before getting another tattoo.

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