Posted in art, comedian, comic, life, love, photography, Uncategorized on September 2, 2016| 22 Comments »
Posted in art, children, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, love, nephew, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, the pistol, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, writer, writing on September 2, 2016| 14 Comments »
Some of you may remember my young nephew the Pistol. His one and only Grandpa died. Now the Pistol and one of his cousins Katie are the youngest of their siblings. The other kids are teenagers.
The main service was over and family members were coming forward to relate their stories. The adults went first followed by the teens. No one thought about the five year olds. In awesome Pistol style, my little nephew stood up and loudly announced, “I have something to say.”
The Pistol climbed the steps up front. And he began.
“Grampa won’t be able to give Katie rides on the tractor anymore, because … well … he’s dead. And now I would like to sing God Bless America.” At which point, he began belting it out. The audience rose and joined him.
It was a lovely way to end a funeral. Pistol, you’re awesome
Posted in animals, art, comedian, entertainment, family, humor, life, love, photography, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 31, 2016| 1 Comment »
Posted in art, comedian, comic, family, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, food, humor, life, love, My Writing Updates, Personal, photography, Random, sarcasm, short story, sister, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, comic, family, funny, humor, job, laugh, life, work, writer, writing on August 30, 2016| 34 Comments »
Every morning my obnoxious alarm goes off. Blinded by daylight, I slap it a couple of times and stumble to the kitchen. I stand in front of the open refrigerator door, drink milk straight from the carton, and grab a hard boiled egg.
I love cold hard boiled eggs so I make them on Sunday afternoon and put them in a container ready for the week. It adds to my mindless routine. I love mindless in the morning.
But one day it was different. Saturday morning, my siblings decided to get together. Early. Really early. They know I don’t do early, especially not on Saturday. Early Saturday in Deidra time means I’ll be 2 hours late. Whatever time you set.
To help me with this, they decided to meet at my house and for my convenience, they let themselves in. They’re really thoughtful that way.
An issue arose during the early morning gathering which has forced me to issue the following warning.
To the person who replaced my boiled egg with a frozen egg,
I’m narrowing the suspect pool. The noose is tightening. Feel my breath on the back of your neck as I close in. In the words of the immortal wicked witch of Oz.
“I will get you and your little dog too.”
Posted in art, comedian, comic, humor, life, love, photography, Uncategorized on August 26, 2016| 18 Comments »
Posted in animals, art, comedian, entertainment, family, humor, life, love, photography, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 24, 2016| 5 Comments »
Posted in animals, art, comic, entertainment, family, humor, life, love, mother's day, mothers day, Personal, photography, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 17, 2016| 7 Comments »
Posted in anxiety, art, books, entertainment, family, Fiction, life, love, Personal, short story, sister, Writing, tagged Meet me by the Gate on August 16, 2016| 19 Comments »
Excerpt from Meet Me By The Gate:
July 7
Item # 30 – Painting of Mom and Dad
Allie,
I’ve painted a portrait of Mom and Dad. I want you to have it. Perhaps if you can hang where you can see it every day you’ll never find yourself unable to remember what they looked like.
Love,
Jo
***
I woke up last night, crying. I dreamt I was in heaven. It was bright and shiny. Everyone was happy, just as you’d expect. But I was surrounded by strangers, alone. I couldn’t find my parents. It’s been over twenty years since I last saw them, spoke to them, hugged them, since I became no one’s daughter. I wondered through the crowd, looking in every face. But I couldn’t remember what they looked like. I couldn’t find them. I woke up sobbing.
What kind of person can’t remember their parents’ faces? The people who spent most of their lives taking care of me and I can’t remember them.
I lay in the dark, trying to remember. Dad had dark wavy hair, a large nose I think, but I could only see bits and pieces, like a puzzle you’ve lost most of the pieces to. I tried to concentrate on his face, but it’s just a vague blur.
REMEMBER HIM, concentrate. Remember his face the last time you saw him, at his funeral.
Brown suit, one button, small lapel, white shirt, but I can’t get above his collar. Just when his face starts to become clear, it slips away again. I can’t see him. Why didn’t I commit him to memory? Surely I realized it was the last time I’d see him.
What about Mom? The last time I saw her, she was sick in bed with cancer. I didn’t want to remember her like that. I thought of the picture I have of her, with that red hair and green eyes, surely I can remember. I concentrate on the picture – blue background, white blouse, red hair waving done over her shoulders. I could almost see her face. Her eyes, I couldn’t get hold of her eyes. I had her nose and the shape of her face, but it was just individual pieces. I couldn’t assemble them. I couldn’t see her.
How will I find my parents in heaven when I can’t remember them? Will they remember me? How long before my son forgets me? I’m afraid I won’t find my parents in heaven. I’m afraid in the dark. I am afraid.
Posted in animals, art, comedian, entertainment, humor, life, love, Personal, sarcasm, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 10, 2016| 5 Comments »
Posted in animals, art, comedian, entertainment, family, humor, life, love, photography, sarcasm, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 3, 2016| 3 Comments »
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