I am happy.
Beside myself with joy.
Dancing on air.
Little Fairies are flying around my head and sprinkling fairy dust all around my face.
Why?
Because Monday is SO over and it won’t be back for another week.
Hurray!
Journal
David’s Dad Is Very Cool
The following is a snippet from Dads: A Celebration Of Fatherhood From Britain’s Finest And Funniest, by Sarah Brown and Gil McNeil, to be published on May 29:
Actor David Tennant, 37, a.k.a. Dr Who, grew up in Ralston, Renfrewshire, where his father, Sandy McDonald, was the local Church of Scotland minister.
David Says Here:
When you’re a child you blithely assume that your dad knows everything. Now, aged 37, I have to admit that mine probably does.I don’t mean he could rattle off the kings of England in order, or work out the quantity of dark matter in the universe on the back of a napkin (although he’d probably give it a good go); it’s the dad stuff he’s good at.
Problem with the car? Confusion over the house insurance? Need to put a shelf up? Even how do you blanch broccoli? I’ll call my dad.
He’ll always have an answer, or at least know where to find one. (Anything involving gadgets, for instance, gets outsourced to his mate John, who lives nearby in a house full of self-soldered circuit boards and half-built computers.)
But it worries me. I’ll be 40 in a few years: shouldn’t I already know how to tile a bathroom wall?
Where does Dad get all this knowledge from? Is it instinct? Was he born knowing how to replace a fanbelt? Did he rely on his father for all these life skills? Were they passed down like an Olympic torch, practicality burning down the generations?
Trouble is, I think I’m in danger of dropping it. In years to come, when my kids phone me up to ask how to reignite their boiler, I’ll have to put them on to Granddad.
I know it’s not just me – my brother and sister are the same. Luckily, despite being 70 and with one false hip, my dad is still the most energetic, indefatigable man you’re ever likely to meet.
Thank goodness for that. You’ve got years of cutting down trees and fixing curtain rails ahead of you, Dad. No peaceful retirement for you, I’m afraid. We’d be neck-deep in chaos without you.
Roaring Through My 20’s
When I was a kid I wanted to be a Flapper.
I wanted to wear those cool clothes and have that edgy haircut and have boys coming to my house in Model T Fords-preferably painted yellow.
I wanted to hang out in Speakeasys
and smoke cigarettes from long cigarette holders and say things like ” that’s the bee’s knees alright ” when something impressed me and I wanted to say in a low sexy gravely voice that could make people blush ” Did you see Anne’s new Sheik? He’s the Cat’s Pajama’s”
Oh wait.
I do say things like ” The Bee’s Knees ” and “Cat’s Pajama’s” and when a guys are off the scale gorgeous I do think of them as Sheiks ( as in Valentino Sexy and if you don’t know who he was, Google him )
And be warned nobody can do the Charleston as good as me- well, nobody my age anyway.
So how did a Punk Rocker born in 1964 find her way back to the 1920’s and come back again as an Honorary Flapper?
Other Grandmothers take their Grand-kids to the Park and to the Beach.
My Grandma sent me on a trip to the roaring 20’s.
My Grandmother and her Sisters- who in their day weren’t just on the cutting edge of the 1920’s it sounded to me like they stood on the blade itself and jumped up and down all over it.
I grew up on their stories about the advent of extreme makeup styles and short hair for women and the music- which seemed to have a preoccupation with fruit, booze and love.
When they would tell me about having to sneak out to change their clothes so that they could ‘ look modern’ and the lengths they went through just to wear makeup and find boyfriends and get their haircut short I would think how sweet and silly and innocent that all sounded.
One day after we traded a few wild stories that started because we had been discussing my music and motorcycle riding and new black leather jacket ripped up jeans and black eyeshadow and safety pin look I remember my Grandmother sort of looked over to one of her sisters and they didn’t laugh or chuckle or tell me how exciting my life sounded.
In fact, if anything they seemed a bit under-impressed.
And then my Grandmother winked and said how silly and fun and innocent it all sounded.
And looking back on it now and looking at the world my Nieces are living in and what it’s like for them now days- I’m starting to think she was was right.
Are We There Yet?
Last weekend I saw some friends.
They asked about my writing, they complimented me on my recent story they told me how excited they were about the entire ‘writer’s experience’. They went on to ask about mutual friends- when I think back on it they smiled more then I had ever seen them smile before.
Two days later they totally betrayed my trust, and the trust of some of our other friends.
I still haven’t gotten over that.
Sometimes the days are just too darn long.
amm
Once Upon My Time
When I was about Five I wanted to be a Magician- not just any Magician I wanted to be as great as Harry Houdini himself.
I still do.
Sometimes you might set dreams aside.
But you never really give them up, do you?
Blitzing Springtime
It’s Springtime and that has come to mean one thing to me- lots of trips to the Vet’s Office for me and my cats.
Every year one of them ends up with some cut or scratch that ends up becoming some gooey mess that smells bad and looks worse and if you think that’snot awful enough YOU try to fit a cat into a box or a crate before they try to eat your fingers off of your hand ( None of my cats are scratchers- and they’ve got all their claws. They’re just biters I guess. )
Last week my cat Blitzer came home with this open wound on his face and before I could get close enough to see it I caught a whiff and I’ll be darned.
Spring MUST be here.
Anyway…
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
This time he didn’t wait to see the Travel Box before he tried to wrap himself around my arm- he just went for it.
Well.
It saved me the effort into catching a cat that spends most of his time in trees and always seems to be in one when a trip to the Vet’s office is in order.
Anyway it turns out I’d actually cleaned Blitzer up pretty good and drained the wound well enough so all we had to do at the Vets was to get some meds.
I was standing at the counter in reception waiting to pay the bill when this guy next to me starts asking the receptionist questions about his dog’s overnight stay after her surgery.
To be specific he didn’t want her to stay overnight- she doesn’t do well in strange places he said.
While we were waiting I’d let Blitzer out of the box- here’s the strange thing about Blitzer, when I take him places he’ll stay with me. I can’t even trust my dogs off their leash but Blitzer my cat?
Not a problem.
So the guy is talking and Blitzer is watching him from the other end of the counter to my left when I noticed the antibiotic is sort of running out his wound and down his jaw and without thinking I sort of push it back in and wipe my finger on the back of my jeans.
This guy stops talking about his dog for a few seconds and looks from me to Blitzer and back to Blitzer again and starts talking about his dog.
Then he stops again and says, ” Ma’am, your cat…”
I look over at Blitzer and his face is dripping a bit so I pick him up set him down on one of those paper towel things and say ” thanks. “
Blitzer turns so that he’s sitting with his back towards me and he’s watching this guy talk.
From the way Blitzer’s ears are swivleing and the way his tail is moving from side to side I know…
Blitzer is stalking this guy the same way he stalks birds.
Weird.
I start to write the check and I’m setting up some appointments for checkups for Blitzer and his brothers when The Guy With The Insecure dog says, ” Excuse me, but your cat…”
” Yeah? “
” It’s nothing… really…but he’s dripping a little.”
Jeeze…Blitzer is tweaking this guy.
” Get back in- ” I tell Blitzer and I push the box around a little so Blitzer knows it’s time to go.
He’s not moving, he’s just watching this guy like he’s lunch.
” Cut it out…” I tell my cat.
When Blitzer doesn’t move I grab his tail near his back and pull him towards me- he doesn’t move a muscle just sits there until he’s across the counter to my right and I can see his face.
” I said get into the box. “
He takes a good long look at the Guy With The Insecure Dog and sort of oozes his way into the box. But he keeps his head up enough to wear the tips of his ears are still just above the rim.
I slam the lid down and shrug.
” Cats. ” Is all I can think to say.
I pay the bill grab the little bag of meds and before I’m out the door I can hear this guy say to the receptionist, ” Okay, if she has to stay she has to stay. But look, that cat isn’t going to be here, is it? “
Blitzer…and yes his eyes REALLY
glow like that…
Want to know more about Blitzer?
Click HERE
A Summer Chill
It’s Snowing…really….
It’s Funday at I.B.!
Yep.
There most certainly is such a site.
Are you really surprised?
A bunch of Hillary people already hate my guts.
So
I thought I’d tick off Bonnie Tyler Fans Next:
This is a one-pound beefburger fried, topped with
cheese and bacon and sandwiched between two
Krispy Kreme doughnuts
Would I really eat one of those you might ask.
Yes.
Yes I would.
And then I’d have to reply
how could you eat just one?
This scares people.
Wussies.
Check it out HERE
So there you are, a few things to make you laugh as you go into the weekend.
Make the most of it.
They don’t happen everyday you know.
amm
From The Twilight Zone
Without a doubt Rod Serling inspired me to become a writer– and through his writing I was also inspired to become a Political and Human Rights Activist.
So it meant a lot to me to see the Rod Serling Memorial Foundation give a shout out to Barack Obama.
Check it out:
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REPORT:
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Irregular Bones 