Pad: A Six Sentence Story

"I'm going to die."
"No, no, you aren't, but tomorrow morning, you're going to wish you could die."
"I've thrown up everything in my stomach and I think the soles of my feet are all that's left to come up."
"Have you learned a lesson from all this?"
"Don't eat take out pad thai before a night of binge drinking?"
"That's right, sweetie, now try to get some sleep."

Linking up with Denise at Girlie On The Edge's Blog for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "pad"

Wave: A Six Sentence Story

When my mother was around 7, her parents moved from town to the old family farm; it was far enough away from town to be in a different school district, and worse, it was in a district with only a one-room school. As he was going to be starting high school that fall, my uncle would get to live in town with my grandfather's two maiden sisters, and my mother threw such a fit that she was allowed to stay there as well and continue to attend the town school with her friends. My grandparents both died when I was very young, so these great aunts were like grandparents to me and my brother, and we loved visiting them and never wanted to leave (why leave when you were thoroughly spoiled while you were there and never told "no"?). 

Their house had a long, gravel driveway with a strip of grass down the middle, and each time we had to leave, as the car backed out and headed down the road, my great aunts would step onto the driveway and wave to us, and I would turn and look out the car window, waving mournfully back to them until I couldn't see them anymore; occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of them as turned and walked back to the house, and each time I did, it made me painfully sad. 

I now have two kids who are away at school, one in college, one in medical school, and when they leave after a visit home, I follow them outside no matter what the weather, and I stand near the end of the driveway, and I wave to them. And I don't go back into the house until I can't see the car anymore, and I make sure I never turn and walk away until their car is completely out of sight.

My beloved great aunts, Daisy and Edith, ca. 1960

Linking up with Denise at Girlie On The Edge's Blog for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "wave"

It's Possible To Be Thankful For Hellishly Hot Weather

Ahhh, summer in the midwest: temperatures in the upper 90s with the heat index around 110 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. To make it even better, there has been a pretty strong breeze out of the south (hence, the reason for the humidity and the heat index). You know how that blast of hot air comes out of your oven and into your face when you open the oven door while you're baking something? That's what it feels like to walk outside right now. Don't get me wrong, though; I'm not complaining. I hate, hate, HAAAAAATE to be cold, so I shall devote this week's Ten Things of Thankful to why I'm cool with it being so hot:

Schooooools out for summer! 

My knock-off Yeti cup keeps my drinks reallllly cold, even outside. I filled my cup with ice and Diet Dr Pepper and left it in the car while I met a friend for lunch, returning to it an hour and a half later. It was 98 degrees when I got back in the car, and my drink was still icy cold and delicious!

I'm not cold when I get out of the shower.

I'm never late anywhere because I had to scrape the windshield before I could leave. I'm just late because I sometimes lack time management skills. 

I never leave my jacket anywhere because I don't NEED a jacket.

Cherries are in season and they are yummy.

Sonic has half price shakes after 8 pm in the summer. I never go get one, but knowing the possibility is there is good enough for me.

Flips flops are appropriate footwear everywhere.

Curly hair just gets bigger and curlier. Hello, 1980s!

If you get really, REALLY, hot in the house, you can always lie down on a cool, tile floor for some relief. If you're a cat, that is. If I were in that predicament, I would just go to the mall or a movie, because I have opposing thumbs and can drive and stuff....

Is it hot where you are? Are you thankful for that or are you one of those cold weather people? Either way, be thankful, then write those thankfuls down and join the Ten Things of Thankful hop!

Lewis, Nora and Finn, cooling off in the bathroom.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Escape: A Six Sentence Story

Elevated feet
Sitting in peaceful silence
Cat purring in my lap
A book nearby
Perhaps I will read
Except first, I think I will nap

Linking up with Denise at Girlie On The Edge's Blog for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "escape"

I Said Yes to the Request and Other Thankfuls

"Ohana" means "family." And when a member of your family asks for help, you help. In this case, it's a member of my blog family and, through the miracle of genealogy research, also my cousin: Kristi, the reigning queen of the Ten Things of Thankful. She asked me if I would be interested in co-hosting the hop again. (I was a co-host for several years, starting in 2013.) So here I am, and here are my thankfuls!

Dual uses for objects. To you and me, it's a dishpan. To Lewis, it's a bed.

Lewis curled up and dead asleep in a dishpan.

All the car titles have been located! Three of them were AWOL, and my husband was in a panic, as we are wanting to sell two old, surplus vehicles (minivans, very old, should have sold YEARS ago, but instead, we let them set around and depreciate further, because that's how we roll). Guess who had custody of them? Mmmhmm, my husband. They were in his briefcase. If I had gotten my hands on them sooner, they would have been in a file folder marked "car titles", but where would the fun be in that?

Homemade chocolate chip cookies. Yes, it was still in the upper 80s at 9:00 last night when I baked them, and yes, the kitchen heated up pretty good, but come on, homemade chocolate chip cookies!

Mexican food, specifically, really tasty tamales. At one point during the meal, I inhaled a tiny, little crumb of masa and nearly died, but as you can see, I didn't. Double thankful there.

Summer vacation.

The Curly Girl Method is WORKING! My hair is healthier than its ever been (in spite of being dyed) and the curls are POPPIN'!

Taken about a month apart. Hair is actually the same
color in both photos, but the lighting is very different.

I don't care much for reality tv shows, but my husband enjoys them, and from the bits and pieces of episodes I have seen, I can say my life may be pretty dull, but by golly, at least I'm normal!

Podcasts. I listen to them at the gym and while driving long distances. Some of my favorites are This American Life, The Moth, and Snap Judgment. If you have any favorites, drop them in the comments.

Don't make me look like a loser co-host! Link up with me at the TToT! There are really no rules, and if you click on the link below and read the other entries, you will find out that some of us *cough cough Clark cough cough* play very fast and loose with the whole concept of Ten. Trust me.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Burst: A Six Sentence Story

It was as summer as summer could be that Saturday morning, with the temperature hovering near 100 degrees already and it wasn't even noon, but there were errands to be run, and Mitch's wife needed sleep after she was up with the baby for much of the night, so with five year old Alex in tow, Mitch stepped into the hot, steamy west Texas morning and headed to the car.

They stopped at the pharmacy, picked up clothes from the dry cleaners, dropped of packages for shipping, and returned books to the library, and Alex was such a good sport throughout all stops and being unbuckled and rebuckled into his booster seat over and over, that Mitch let him pick out a can of soda from the gas station that he could have all to himself when they got home for lunch, and Alex placed his prize securely in a cupholder in the front seat before climbing back to his booster seat, keeping a watchful eye on the shiny can as they finished their errands.

Their last stop was at their neighbor Sam's house to drop off a baking dish; Sam's wife took the dish into the house after inquiring about the new baby, but Sam remained on the front step, he and Mitch talking about baseball and fishing and the best way to smoke a brisket while Alex amused himself with a pile of rocks next to the driveway, his cheeks red and his head sweaty. While the two men discussed the pros and cons of hickory versus applewood, Alex, hot and bored, got up and peered longingly through the car window at his can of soda, wishing he could drink it up now, when he called excitedly, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, my soda is SO BIG!"

"I'll be right there, buddy," began Mitch, but Alex, jumping up and down, cried, "Hurry, Daddy, it's getting round!" 

The two men exchanged a puzzled glance, then moved towards the driveway and the parked car just in time to witness the burst of hot soda spraying out of the heat-swollen can, spattering the windows and dripping from the ceiling as Alex's face fell and he burst into tears.

Happy 4th and Other Thankfuls

It's hot and muggy in the Ozarks, not unlike probably 3/4 of the country. But shouldn't it be that way for the 4th of July? In 1972, when my family moved to the house I lived in from 7th-12th grade, there was a crazy cold snap on the 4th. We had a 4th of July party at our house (we had a perfect view of a large fireworks display from our backyard), and everyone wore sweatshirts and huddled inside the house around the fireplace most of the night. I could maybe use a day like that about now.

Spending as much time as possible sitting
here, reading, napping, and watching
boats go by.

Moving on. If it isn't one kitten, it's another. Finn is part goat. He hopped and jumped his way on top of the armoire in our bedroom this week. I wasn't thrilled, since he was over 6 feet off the floor, but I thought he would come down the same way he went up (mostly via a recliner that has been sitting awkwardly in our room since March when we replaced it with another chair). I went in the bathroom to work on my hair (Curly Girl Method = many, many minutes working on the hair). My husband was sitting in the replacement recliner, facing the armoire. Over the noise of the hairdryer, I heard a TREMENDOUS crash and ran into the bedroom. My husband was calmly sitting in his chair. 

Me: What happened?!

Him: Oh, Finn fell off the armoire, I guess.

Finn fell. Off the back. Of the armoire. I called his name and got no response. This is a VERY OLD piece of furniture, and over the years, one of the boards that runs vertically along the back of it fell off and just kind of leans back there. It has made a terrific secret entrance to the armoire, where we store our linens, quilts, blankets, etc. (old house, no linen closet), and several of our cats have taken advantage of this over the years and will hide in there and sleep. I opened the door and called Finn's name, and finally his little face peeked up behind the bottom shelf. I reached through the opening and pulled him out. His eyes were black and he was pretty shaken up. He came in the bathroom with me and laid low for an hour or so and licked his shoulder and side, then bounced up and was good as new. I'm thinking he probably hit the board and mostly slid down, but I can't be sure, because I wasn't in the room, and the one who was DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE.

So, Thankful #1 is Finn is fine, although down a life. 

Finn before.

Finn after, protecting the catnip carrot

2. That old chair that has been sitting in my room since March and which allowed Finn to gain access to the top of the armoire? Gone! I had to take it apart and try to drag it downstairs by myself first, but my husband did get up and help me when he saw I wasn't going to quit, and we loaded it in the back of the van and I dropped it off at the Salvation Army. 

3. Finn found a brown recluse spider in the bathroom the evening before his Big Fall. It was under a rug in front of the sink, and it ran into a crack between the vanity and the floor before I could get it (note to self: caulk between the vanity and floor). Finn spent a very happy time trying to coax the spider back out, but to no avail, and he eventually gave up. The next morning, I saw the spider and squashed and disposed of him. I knew Finn was going to be okay after the Big Fall when he stopped licking his shoulder to peer under the edge of the vanity and look for the spider. It will be interesting to see how long he remembers that there was once a spider there and he almost (not) got it....

4. I have had tremendous success with a fruit fly trap in the kitchen at the lake house. I'm on my second trap and have caught close to 20 of the little suckers, and I may have decimated the herd.

5. Our neighbors across the street at the lake house have a 4th of July party at their house. Okay, a 3rd of July party, because the big fireworks display at the Branson Landing is on the 3rd, but my husband, dad and I enjoyed hanging out over there, eating grilled brats and hot dogs and all the side dishes everyone brought, and visiting with neighbors.

6. Everyone from the party came to our house and sat on our dock to watch the fireworks. It was a great show and we had ringside seats without having to deal with the crowds at the Landing.

7. More fireworks on the 4th, this time from Kamp Kanakuk, across the lake. Ringside seats once again with several of our neighbors joining us.

8. Summer food. Grilled burgers and chicken. Watermelon. Brisket on the smoker. Strawberry pie. Fresh green beans and new taters. Corn on the cob. Ahhh!

Strawberry pie with shortbread crust

9. A belated thankful for Kristi, our host and my dear cousin 😜, not only for her hosting duties, but also for the sweet TToT post-it notes that she sent me! 

10. I was today year's old when I found out you can include emojis in a post. Watch out!

Happy summer! Happy thankfuls!

Process: A Six Sentence Story

"This better be worth it," he said to himself as he trudged up the last of five flights of stairs to the tune of a baby's wailing from somewhere down below. He was already out for the tip provided by (and to) the building super and for the box of pizza he carried as he slowly made his way up the last few steps.

The battered door of apartment 502 was directly before him, and he rapped firmly on it, calling out, "Pizza delivery," and slipping to the side as the door opened a crack, revealing a young woman, her edges hard, her eyes wary. He proffered the pizza box, holding it just out of reach, and the crack widened, the woman drawn by the scent of the hot pie and curiosity about why it was there. 

As she reached for the box, he pulled documents out from under it and thrust them into her hands, saying, "Process server, ma'am." 

Her eyes widened, and before he could step away, she snapped, "Process THIS," as she slammed the pizza box hard against his chest, shoving him backwards where there was nothing to catch him but the bottom of the staircase.

Linking up with Denise at Girlie On The Edge's Blog for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "process"