“Now you know and knowing is half the battle.”
I have quoted G.I. Joe to my children (ad nauseum), my grandchildren, my husband, my employees and anyone else who says, “I didn’t know that”. You didn’t know that I can be obnoxious? Well, now you know and knowing is half the battle.
DAILY POST: Life After Blogs ...Your life without a computer: what does it look like?
Without a computer I would have even more time for/to:
Family
Read
Pay bills
Chill in the pool
Visit our cottage in the northern woods
Quilt on my longarm machine
Explore
Cook
Sew
Travel
Eat
Kayak
Hike
Explore
Encourage my grandchildren to be silly
Participate in raising funds for breast cancer research
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fright Night.”What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
I once stepped on a worm in my bare feet. It squished and I yelled and shivered and shook and jumped around on one foot afraid to look at the bottom of my foot or the sidewalk. I’ve gone back indoors rather than step on worms in my path after a rain brings them creeping, crawling, slithering out of the ground. I gagged when I was a kid and found out that people put a fishhook through their slimey little bodies and didn’t wrap them around the hook like in the cartoons. No, even as a child I wasn’t quite stupid enough to believe that the worms did the shimmy on the hook to attract the fish.
Can you imagine my horror when I discovered worm farms? Or, when I saw a picture of a ball of worms mating? Just typing that made my skin crawl. I almost gave up gardening when I dug a hole to plant a flower and saw a half of a worm wiggling on my spade.
So, what would it take to make me walk down a sidewalk covered with worms? Well, my children would have to be in mortal danger with the worm walk demanded as their ransom. I would have to be wearing a pair of Doc Marten boots with my eyes covered being led by the arms down the sidewalk. I’d probably also need an iPod playing at top volume to distract me and avoid any squishy noises. I would need to go through a decontamination chamber with someone removing and disposing of my boots before removing my blindfold.
And if my demands for the worm walk were not met?
Sorry, kids.
p.s. I couldn’t insert any images … I just couldn’t.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Pride and Joy.” What’s your most prized possession?
Of course my family and their love is my most prized possession – that goes without saying. But if you want to know my most prized material possession, it’s my Casita travel trailer. It was my retirement gift to me, from me, with love. I am eager for every camping adventure, especially when I go solo.
My 17-foot Casita Freedom
On Long Key, near Key West, Florida (paradise!)
I always wanted to be a cowgirl so that’s how I decorated my Casita
Bathroom behind door #1, closet behind door #2
Dining table drops down, cushions flatten to form a queen size bed
Inside dining for two – granddaughter & Gramps
Just big enough on a rainy day to stay inside & watch movies
Getting ready for take-off
I took my sister with me to Anastasia State Park, St. Augustine, FL for a girls’ weekend
Girly repairs with pink duct tape
My happy place
Good night
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Trick Questions.” A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece — about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?
Please, don’t ever ask me:
- My age
- My weight
- The real color of my hair (“As a matter of fact, yes, I was born with copper orange hair”)
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Out of Your Reach.” Was there a toy or thing you always wanted as a child, during the holidays or on your birthday, but never received? Tell us about it.
I wanted to be a boy. Only women over the age of 55 will understand that I wanted to dress comfortably in pants instead of dresses. I wanted to wrestle and get dirty; push and fight and yell. I wanted to get angry and show it. I wanted to go places and do things that “good girls” weren’t allowed.
I wanted to stay out late and not be practically water-boarded for an explanation. I wanted to whistle and spit and cuss. I wanted to slouch. I wanted to play contact sports and take shop class. I wanted a motorcycle and to join the Navy. I wanted to be a cowboy and ride with the Lone Ranger. I didn’t want to develop a woman’s
body and have disgusting things happen to me monthly. I wanted to be a sexual person. I wanted a leather bomber jacket and I wanted to wear high-top sneakers and jeans. I wanted to cut my hair. I wanted to choose my own career. I wanted to wait until I was old to get married. I wanted to travel in a convertible (remember Route 66?). But, I wanted to be beautiful and thin, too. All these were beyond my grasp as a child.
What I really wanted was freedom. I grew up and worked hard to make certain that my daughters could do and be all the things that were out of my reach as a child in the 1950s. And they are.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Brainwave.”What’s the best idea you’ve ever had? Regale us with every detail of the idea — the idea itself, where it came to you, and the problem it solved.
OK – tell me this isn’t the best idea ever.
Remember the old-fashioned way to open sardine cans?
So, let’s suppose you could have a miniature sardine can key implanted behind each ear and every birthday you could twist the key 1/4 turn to tighten your facial and neck skin. You could control the amount of tension to turn back the clock a year or ten. We could put the Hollywood plastic surgeons out of business in no time and save a ton of money on lotions, potions & gimmicks for aging skin.
Possibly a larger key could be implanted somewhere discrete to haul up sagging butts and boobs. I’m still working on that one.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A True Saint.” In 300 years, if you were to be named the patron saint of X, what would you like X to be? Places, activities, objects — all are fair game.
St. Jodi was canonized on the 300th anniversay of her first miracle. The miracle occurred on the day her husband left a trail of breadcrumbs to lead a wild Muscovy duck through the back sliding glass door of her home, marching through the dining and family rooms leaving a trail of guano (the duck, not her husband) and followed by three pre-teens shrieking in delight. The miracle occurred when St. Jodi was able to avoid having a stroke or murdering the duck, her husband and the hysterical children.
The second miracle took place on an overlook in the Blue Ridge Mountains when St. Jodi pulled the car she was driving onto an overlook and avoided hurling her son and husband from the peak. They had been telling jokes about yaks and making fun of her driving for 100 miles. At the moment that she lost control and contemplated murder she had a vision … a cold, frosty martini served by a repentent and adoring husband. A miraculous amount of self control and prayer enabled her to deliver her family safely to their destination.
Many miracles performed by St. Jodi have been reported by family and friends but could not be substantiated since friends and family members were reluctant to provide their real names. Reports of miracles signed by Popeye, Betty Boop and Captain America were not accepted by church officials although the stories told were about a woman of miraculous self-control, love and good humor.
Officials were able to substantiate the first two miraculous episodes through submission of video proof. Experienced audio technicians were used to eliminate the screaming and laughter on the video.
St. Jodi is honored during the week after Labor Day when children typically return to school. To request blessings from her, place a bottle of Chivas or a nice Cabernet on her doorstep. Go in peace.
Wander Woman 