giraffe

Yeah. I take the royalties even tho it was the evil wizard in me that created it. To atone, I give the shopping cart guy a whole dollar every week!

Doug

somehow I missed the "blow up doll"...hmmmm.

giraffe

I guess it's either your turn to revive the "character" or turn it into a blow up dragon kite or a blow up serial killer. LOL Doug.

marius

Goodness, the weather must be good everywhere and people planting in their yards, riding horses, kayaking or who knows what else. Am trying to get another story, but for now ... this is it!

Here's a short story on sis. She got an art degree, is very creative and talented. She is also HIGHLY visual whereas marius, the bird-watcher, likes visuals but hearing is probably the better talent.

One day we're kayaking and I see a large plastic sack that is full of wind and stuck to a branch sticking out of the water. I say to sis, "Sure wish people would dispose of their trash properly. Here we are, basking in beautiful, serene nature and we have to look at a stupid white plastic sack blowing in the wind."

After a while sis says, "Curious thing about that sack. It has a neck."

Sure enough, the 'sack' called out and that's when marius knew it was a mute swan. We managed to get pretty close. LOVELY!

(Note, got one of the word list words in that story. giggle. If you want to hear the call of mute swans, click on link and scroll down a bit.)

http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/mute_swan/id

giraffe

Remember the white bag floating in American Beauty? I thought that's where you were going. The swan's a neat touch.

marius

[370 words, but all the word list is in there! I KNOW, what a surprise!]


Enjoy it While It’s Here

My friendship with Teresa was never dull. We always had fun and I admired her enthusiasm! It shot out into the world with such expansiveness it was dizzying. We met during her occult phase.

She had just taken up astrology. Within a month this turned into a fascination for numerology. After that her thirsts led to Transcendental Meditation. She always let go of the current interest when some new thing caught her eye. She was like that with men too.

She went through the I Ching, all things Buddhist, Sufi-ism and finally found Tarot cards. She practiced readings on me but they never seemed accurate. It seemed that she believed if she could understand someone else, get through the gross mask and protections we all carry, that then she could understand what made *her* tick. I don’t know.

I remember when we stayed for the weekend at a vacation tourist trap because Teresa had a discount. The so-called discount was marginal at best, incredibly restrictive really, but it included ten percent off dinner and that is how we ended up at Boomers Lakeside Bar and Grill. It was a hot evening so thick with humidity that my cotton sundress had lost its light and airy feel. I would have preferred air conditioning, but there we were in sundresses and sandals, sipping margaritas by the lake.

It didn’t take long to notice that Teresa’s eyes were everywhere. She began to talk about men: that one looked like a jaguar, that one an insect, that one an old dinosaur. Indeed, there was a fair sampling of the male sex at this establishment. There were a few families too, but as my friend continued to label and dissect the men in what seemed a less than benevolent fashion, it dawned on me that we had not come on vacation for the same reasons. My friend was man-hunting and I was pretty sure she was doing it in a gay bar!

Not long after that Teresa went cold on our friendship. I didn’t mind. Life has a way of presenting twists and turns, and I find it quite lovely.

As Gran used to say, “Enjoy it while it’s here and smile when it leaves.”

marius

I do not remember the movie or the white bag. Will have to look it up.

giraffe

M. Good commentary about how people grow apart and still kinda understand each other. You'll be taxed for the extra 20 words, but you still have enough credit to cover it. Wink.

giraffe

All words. ? count

GRIEF

I took a stroll on the beach yesterday. I had my liquid detergent in my pack just in case I ran into any pelicans stuck in the oily mud. This is gross. Some dinosaur died a million years ago so that this lovely bird could flounder in the decaying goo of its body. They call it fossil fuels, but I call it gluttony.

I'm marginally benevolent about these birds, but I can't do it full time. I know that soon someone will pay for this disaster, but when? The oil company turns a cold shoulder to the whole incident and that just heats my anger.

I used to love this walk on the beach. Now it's ugly and my neighbors are all out of work. The poor fish didn't see this coming either. It's a man-made crisis - not Mother Nature.

There's one. The mud and oil are ruining his wing expansion to fly. He looks like an insect dying in a window sill. I think I'll wash you off, Baby. Just hold still and we'll give you another chance to fly.

mouse

Giraffe-- Sunday Funnies--That is toooooooo funny. Didn't expect "Pixie"

mouse

Doug Living in the margin--so very clever. Loved it

giraffe

Hey, Mouse. I really don't want to be the "shock jock" of TW. I'm gonna find other ways of saying this without any sexual overtones. I'm glad you found it funny.

mrsjesus

Natural light was starting to fade in the western sky outside her window as she lowered the blinds. He'd been gone for .... years, in her heart anyway. John was the rock, the provider, the comfort, the warm body that held her closely at night and made all the bad things and bad people go away.

The crickets and frogs were singing in harmony on a sultry, late summer night.... a welcome reprieve from the deafening silence. Still the imaginary conversation in her head.... what they would be saying right now... the smell and feel of his skin... She tried to shake her head to expel those images, but knew it wouln't be that easy...Some things had to stay the same... the pictures on the wall and the pillows on the bed.... All warm reminders of the man.

There were times she could feel the warmth and softness of his hand resting upon hers, although she knew he wasn't there. The nights were the worst. She would wake in a dreamy fog from the feel of his breath on her neck and the brush of his lips on her cheek. As much as she wanted this to be real, she knew it wasn't. These all too real dreams usually made her cry, but not tonight. She threw the blankets off the bed, stomped barefoot into the living room, and poured a double shot of the only bourbon she could afford. Amazing what you can tolerate when you're fuckin' desperate, she thought to herself. She threw her head back and downed the booze. Taking a long exhale she said aloud, You motherfucker! Just like you to die. She knew it was a stupid, irrational thing to say.... but the ache to feel John's body held warmly against hers .... hurt. It hurt.... like a punch in the gut or a slap in the face. He would come to her on some nights... although not every night, just as it's always been... She would lie alone in that huge bed wrapped in the warm, comfortable protection of hand stitched quilts, Chinese silk, and Indian satin.... all gifts from him and none a substitute for the feel of his strong body moving above her. She knew she'd never feel him again, and she shook her head again... hard.

Another shot of bourbon... maybe some soda this time and a smoke.... she lit an enormously long filter cigarette, blew a perfect cloud of white smoke, and let every muscle in her body relax into the filthy over-stuffed chair John used to sleep in. She saw the burn he left on the chair's arm one night when he fell asleep. Remembered the night she came home tired and exhausted and had collapsed in the same filthy chair. John had brought her a beer that night, knelt in front of her, took her face in his hands and kissed her with the passion that only a man in love can.....

Shit! She jumped out of the chair abrubtly and screamed, Get the fuck away from me.... He was everywhere and she didn't know how to put him to bed... to rest.... to make him at peace.... or her.
Stopping in her tracks and remembering.... John's stash. She laughed out loud as she walked into his "study", which was really just a glorified closet. There it was on his desk. A small wooden box he'd picked up for a buck at some yard sale. And inside, 2 perfectly rolled joints. Taking a pack of matches from the desk, she lit one, inhaling deeply and immediatlely coughing uncontrollably for several minutes... a drink of water and a slower toke this time... That's what he always said... Hit it easy, babe. She fell back onto the bed... their bed... staring at the ceiling. She exhaled then said, You have to go now, John... She waited. Nothing.... then... a gentle breeze, a soft touch on the hand, his breath on her neck, lips on her face..... She jerked with a start when the alarm went off and realized she'd hit the snooze button...

mrsjesus

Mrs. Jesus. You disobeyed all the rules. But I think your writing style is very unique and clear. I had to read this 3 times to realize that I kind of get it. Thanks for contributing again. Great story.

giraffe

Sorry, I was stiill logged in on my son's login.

marius

Woah ... mrsjesus, that captures loss so well. Just the other day my neighbor, age 82, said, "You know, Gene has been gone six years but sometimes I get so mad at him. And guess why I was mad at him for today! Yardword! If he was here, he'd be helping with the yardwork!"

Lovely story and nicely told. Welcome to TW!

Doug

I thought maybe this would be a little "therapy" for my mind, but it has only increased the anxiety. I think I got all the words in and giraffe you'll have to give me that extra 20 you gave marius. TKS

Cleaning of the Mind

Muddled and befuddled all in the same marginally obsolete existence. I’m sure I’m nearly ready to pop from all the stimuli running through my soft-sided balloon shaped brain. I can’t take it anymore! Am I guilty of some gross misconduct? Blow up dolls marching down Main Street as a parade of putrid thoughts dance gingerly yet forcefully through my dreams. Where the hell does that come from? Maybe it’s time for a “med” change or maybe things will calm down after the move is over. It’s the country air purifying the lungs ridding me of the acrid ozone and what they call particulates that haunt the city scene. A yard to mow again... I bought a brand new eco-friendly mower that will mulch or bag and maybe shred the daily paper if it gets in the way. It’s been so long…..waiting for the year I could once again own a home. They call it a golden moment when you can step foot on the chilled blades of grass of “your” yard where insects roam free. But the journey to that moment has been lovely and terrible at the same time. Times have changed. Paperwork so expansive it boggles the mind, inspection after inspection, responses to inspections, checking to make sure the work is actually being done and the oh so popular response from the seller……ENOUGH!....”Do what you will, I’m not doing anymore! I spent yesterday scraping and painting on walls I don’t even own yet. The closing is fast approaching, the end of the school year is near, but I am lost in a non-benevolent swamp of “head banging” details and the 10 year olds chicanery in lies about homework and signing up for a “club” on the internet with I am guessing one of our credit cards. The little one sits playing with a dinosaur, but is surrounded by a pile of toys so restrictive he can only explode them into a hot volcano that scatters them throughout the house we are trying to pack up. Madness? You bet. My mood is marginal at best; my brain has gone south to the land of dancing, marching blow up Satan dolls in an ever expanding vacuum of hopelessness. Help???????

Doug

graffe: Good topical commentar on oil spills. If we are ever to free ourselves from our dependence on the Arabs then we must drill offshore. Another current "new" source of energy is the Marshallas (sp.) shelf that holds more natural gas than has ever been discovered. Why can't we tap into that and power our "future"? But I'm afraid more pelicans, dolphins and sea turtles will have to perish to feed our never ending gluttony for oil.

giraffe

THIS IS THE ORIGINAL MOTHERS' DAY PROCLAMATION. JULIA WARD HOWE 1870

Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!

Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by
irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking
with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be
taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach
them of charity, mercy and patience.

We women of one country will be too tender of those of another
country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From
the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance
of justice."

Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons
of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a
great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women,
to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the
means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each
bearing after their own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a
general congress of women without limit of nationality may be
appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the
alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement
of international questions, the great and general interests of
peace.

Julia Ward Howe
Boston
1870

giraffe

Doug. I'm really glad you titled it 'Cleaning of the Mind' - not 'Giving Up'. Take a deep breath, Bud. Really good story. I got it.

The Mothers' Day thing is something I send to everyone this time of year. Howe wrote 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' and many other things. If you're a peace freak like I am, cut and paste.