Trifecta 33-Word Challenge: One Afternoon at Beelzebub’s House

This weekend’s 33-word Trifecta Challenge:

“I feel I’m able to get rid of any demons lurking in my psyche through my writing, which leaves me free to create all of this and to enjoy our family life, stepping away from all the fictional traumas and the dramas. If I write about family in crisis, then I won’t have to live through it, I guess.“- Jodi Picoult

This weekend we’re asking for 33 of your own words that exorcise a demon.  One of your own, or one from your imagination.  Let it bleed on the page.

Okey Doke here goes:

One Afternoon at Beelzebub’s House

“We’re going for a jog!” Bill commanded.

“No I hate jogging!” Beelzebub screamed.

“It’ll chase away the demons!”

“I’ll spit fire on you!”

Bill burst into flames.

Beelzebub hated any form of exorcise.

"Oh great, all this talk of exorcising has given me a migraine.  Thanks a lot Bill."

“Oh great, now I’ve got a horrible migraine. Thanks a lot Bill.”

* *  *

Until next time . .  I love you

What are Zebra Fish Trying to Tell the Scientists?

Good news Dear Readers! Our hard working scientific researchers have done it again!

Well, well!  Thumbing through a copy  of Scientific American in an article entitled  Why Sleep is Good for You, it seems our industrious Scientist Community has been staying up late worrying about going to bed early.

In an unprecedented effort to dig up more work, Scientist’s have been studying the brain’s performance while sleeping and not sleeping by studying see-through fish.

Scientists Have Divided Themselves into Two Camps

The article goes on to say that the question of sleep has divided the Scientific Community into two camps:

  • Scientific researchers who think sleep is good for you
  • And scientific researchers who think sleep is even better for you than scientific researchers who think sleep is good for you.

Scientists Who Stare at Fish

According to the article, a “group” (probably less than 50 but more than 25) of scientific researchers have been staying up late staring at some zebra fish in the aquarium at the lab.

This is the kind of activity that just about any group can do without the need to pre-coordinate; thus making it quite popular among uncoordinated groups of scientific researchers.

An Uncoordinated Group of Scientific  Researchers

Let Sleeping Brains Lie

Basically, all the scientific researchers had to do was show up at the same time, pour themselves some coffee, and shuffle over to the fish tank to “look” at the fish.

In this case, they were shuffling over to “look” at zebra fish because “their larvae are transparent”, which allowed researchers to watch their tiny brains as they slept (the larvae, that is).

Putting the “zzzzzz” in Zebra Fish

For you see, it had been determined at an earlier date that zebra fish are less active at night than they are during the day which the scientific researchers ascertained could only mean one thing.  Zebra fish sleep at night.

After coming to this scientific conclusion, the scientific researchers could have simply gone right home and written about it in their Scientific Journals.

But the scientific researchers wanted to keep going because they just knew they were about to make a genuine Scientific Discovery — plus they could use the hours.

Talk About Dedicated!

So one camp of scientific researchers wrestled a zebra fish to the bottom of the tank while the other camp of scientific researchers held him down and dyed his neuron connections green and black. Ha!

They Could Be Dead, Sure, But Scientists Say They’re Sleeping

Well, wouldn’t you know, the scientific researchers soon found out that zebra fish’s synapse activity was lower during sleep. Who knew?

But how could the researchers tell that the zebra fish was, in fact, asleep?  Because first it started yawning, and then it closed its eyes for about eight hours give or take.

These eyes have been scientifically proven to be closed.

The upshot is that the hard work of the scientific researchers paid off when the results were published in the Journal, Neuron, which is a magazine about neurons that all the scientific researchers subscribe to, thus cementing their status as the very first Scientific Researchers to observe the effects of sleep/wake cycles on the synapses of a living vertebrate!

And if that little bit of scientific good news doesn’t put a spring in your step, nothing will.

Until next time. . . I love you

Big Bucks Barbie

Hello Dear Readers!  For those of you who just woke up from a coma, congratulations!  You’re just in time for Christmas!!  Don’t worry if you haven’t got your shopping done yet.  I haven’t either and I haven’t even been in a coma.  So while I’m out shopping, here’s a little Christmas shopping story about the year my daughter wanted a My Size Barbie!  

Big Bucks Barbie

 One year my daughter asked Santa for a “My Size Barbie.”  A “My Size Barbie” is a Barbie doll that has been fed huge amounts of hormones at the factory causing her to become the size of Daryl Hannah.

Picture of My Size Barbie in a Blue Dress   Daryl Hanna on Red Carpet

To ensure that “My Size Barbie” would be in stock, I went to the toy store early.   I approached the Barbie aisle and was about to ask where I might find The Big One, when I tripped over a humongous box containing “My Size Barbie” nearly breaking “My Size Arm.”

The adrenalin rush I experienced from the fall enabled me to heft the package containing The Incredible Babs onto my cart, but not being Arnold Schwartzenegger (or even Maria Shriver), I wasn’t strong enough to maneuver the box so that I could see the price tag.

I inched my Barbie-burdened cart to the checkout stand where it took four of us to hoist The Big Gal onto the scanner, and I mentally noted that perhaps some low-fat Barbie cuisine would make an apropos stocking stuffer.

Being an alert consumer, I had estimated the price at around $40, $50 or maybe even $60.

“Do you know how much this is?” I asked the clerk.

“I’ll let you know in a sec, hon,” she said as she fired up the jaws of life to help her run Buxom Barb over the scanner.

As I waited for the price to appear, I recalled a Christmas of long ago when I had received a Barbie Dream House.  My mother had lovingly assembled it all by herself.  It had taken her the better part of the Kennedy administration.

Barbie's first dream house
Assembles in four years

That had been my favorite Christmas and I owed it all to my mother and to my Barbie.  How ironic that this Christmas I would be giving my daughter The Mother of All Barbies.

“Excuse me ma’am? The “My Size Barbie’ is $128.  Did you still want it?”

One-hundred and twenty-eight dollars!  Suddenly everything began to move in slow motion.  I could feel myself turning white . . . then red . . . then green . . . like an aluminum Christmas tree on a rotating stand.

I looked at the clerk, then back at the 20 or so people waiting in line behind me.  They were all staring at me and sighing a lot.  Maybe they were thinking that I shouldn’t let my daughter down for a few lousy bucks and that I should forget the expense because, after all, it was Christmas.  Finally, a gentleman from the back of the line offer his advice:

“Move it lady!”

Then the clerk from the neighboring checkout stand shouted over, ” My niece has one of those and they can  wear the same clothes!” And then, just to bring it on home, she added, “I think she comes with an entire wardrobe!”

The clerk and I quickly tried to figure out how many outfits were included, but that information was on the opposite side of the box and somebody else was using the forklift.

In the end, I paid with a check so big it would have made “My Size Barbie” proud.  And as the crane lowered The Ultimate Barbie onto the roof of my car, I knew in my heart I had made the right decision.

“A little to the left!”
When Christmas morning came, my little girl would open her very special present, and the wonder and joy that is Christmas would be captured again for one brief, shining moment.

I say brief because the day after Christmas, I made “My Size Barbie” go out and get a job.

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain Peanuts Thinks Up Some Common Sense Tips

Hello Dear Readers.  I thought it might be helpful to post a short list  of common sense tips that my brain, Peanuts, just thought of.

Don’t worry about your spleen.  Nobody ever said on their death-bed, “I wish I would have worried about my spleen.”

 "Let's see, 101 signs your spleen might be malfunctioning . . ."

“Let’s see . . . 101 signs your spleen might be malfunctioning . . . oh I need to read these! “

If someone in your family is set on becoming a human cannonball, keep a mirror and a helmet handy so you can show them how stupid they will look to others.

Slit your car tires every night before you go to bed so that when you wake up in the morning there won’t be any flat tire surprises.

Did you remember to slit the tires?No, it's your turn, I did it last night!

Did you remember to slit the tires?
No, it’s your turn, I did it last night!

Never allow anyone to act out the poem Lizzie Borden Took an Ax on family fun night unless you are absolutely certain the ax is inaccessible and there’s no liquor in the house.

Always test out your  “experimental arsenic cookies” on the hamster first, and be sure he’s actually dead before going to all the trouble of serving them to in-laws.

"Maury? . . .  Maury?  Can you hear me Maury?"


“Maury? . . . Maury? Can you hear me Maury?”

Always keep a copy of Robert Rules of Order on you at all times to avoid the embarrassment of walking up to take the witness stand in a crowded courtroom when it’s not your turn.

Never engage in a conversation with a chatty robot before you know the location of their off switch.  (The same holds true for husbands.)

"Yes. it. is. a. nice. day. There. have been 17823 days. very. similar. to. a. day. like. today. in. the. past. 100. years. starting. with. a. Thursday. on. April. 17. 1912. and. then. again. on . . . "

“Yes. it. is. a. nice. day. There. have. been. 17823. days. very. similar. to. a. day. like. today. in. the. past. 1400. years. starting. with. a. Thursday. on. April. 17. 1035. and. then. on. . . “

Just make it a policy to never operate on friends. Period. End of story.

Listen Marge, it's not that I don't want to take out your spleen, it's just that you're a friend of mine and I have this policy . . . sorry . . . .

Listen Marge, it’s not that I don’t want to remove your spleen, it’s just that you’re a friend of mine and I have this policy . . . sorry but period end of story.

Until next time . . . I love you

Your 1977 Guide to Over-Handling Food

Hello Dear Readers!  I thought it might be fun to take a look at the way food was prepared back in 1977, a year where absolutely nothing happened and there wasn’t anything to do but play around with  food.

Join me now, won’t you?  As we infiltrate the space/time continuum by whizzing back to 1977 via the pages of McCall’s Cook School!

It's not just a magazine it's a school!

It’s not just a magazine it’s a school for cooking!

First up is this delightful Golden Seafood Platter:

Great pains have been taken to arrange this seafood platter in a delectable manner.

Could it be arranged in a more delectable manner?

To the untrained eye, this seafood platter might appear unimaginative, but to McCall’s cooking school graduates this is a study of  perpendicular proportions!

For you see, each piece of fish has been magnetically lined up with true north using a cooking compass/thermometer.  And each shrimp has been carefully hand-placed to align with Orion’s Belt after Orion had to let it out a couple notches due to eating too much seafood.

Then there’s this well-groomed platter of chicken and potatoes!

Counter clockwise never looked to delicious!

Counter clockwise never looked so delicious!

To get this random look just right, McCall’s Cooking School dictates that one must first arrange the chicken in a counter-clockwise direction and then walk across the room and toss the potatoes onto the plate one at a time which is the secret to giving any dish that coveted un-fussed with appeal that McCall’s Cooking School is trying their darnedest to get the hang of.

Blanquette De Veau and You!

Think in terms of French Navy when arranging this dish.

Think in terms of French Navy when arranging this dish.

Leave it to McCall’s Cooking School to find an educational way to bring together the French Navy, The Middle Ages and veal!  As you can see, the miniature carrots have been arranged in the exact formation as the cannons on French war ships during the battle of   . . . everybody say it together — The Siege of La Rochelle!

As you can also see, the mushrooms have been mathematically placed exactly where they would have landed had they actually been shot out of the carrot cannons –which could account for why the French lost the battle of –everybody say it together — The Siege of La Rochelle!

McCall’s Cooking School Says this is the Standard Dish That Belongs in Every Good Cook’s Repertoire

Chicken Leg Parsley Exultation

Chicken Leg Parsley Exultation

If there’s one thing McCall’s Cooking School is big on it’s that it doesn’t really matter how food actually tastes as much as it does how well food stays together without getting out the glue gun.

In that vein,  they present to us their PhD of food arrangement:   Chicken Leg Parsley Exultation de Biscuit. Because in the year 1977,  if a dish wasn’t a shrine to something; it really wasn’t anything at all.

And there you have it Dear Reader!  Thank you for agreeing to  infiltrate the space/time continuum by whizzing back to 1977 via the pages of McCall’s Cook School!  It probably wouldn’t hurt to go comb your hair a little bit.

Until next time. . . I love you

The 33-Trifecta Writing Challenge: Through The Bleary Eyes of Wretched Weariness

This weekend the tireless editors at the Trifecta Writing Challenge are prompting us to write 33 words to make them chuckle, chortle, smile or something of that nature.

“This weekend we’re asking you to write 33 words that will make us laugh or smile.  Even a chuckle will do.  We look forward to the communal spirit lifting.  Good luck!”

Through The Bleary Eyes of Wretched Weariness

Oh to make the mind to squeeze

Something funny to appease

Insatiable Trifectan Masters

Without incurring word disasters!

Never do they rest or sleep . . .

Haven’t they ever heard of sheep?

The entries!  They just keep coming and coming and coming!

The entries! They just keep coming and coming and coming . . .

You Gonna Use the Rest of that Synapse?

Hello Dear Readers! It’s Friday again which means it’s time to fish something out of the archives.  Today’s offering is:

The Suspect Synapses

The Suspect Synapses

You Gonna Use the Rest of that Synapse?

I think I’m coming down with a bad case of old age.  I think I might have caught it from my husband, 37.

The two of us are just pathetic in that neither one of us can finish our own sentences anymore - let alone each others sentences like we used to back in the good old days – when we both had a nice selection of connected synapses to work with.

Still, we’re getting pretty good at having entire conversations without ever being able to remember the name of the topic we are talking about.   They usually go something like this:

You know that guy that was in that movie we watched the other night?  What was his name?

Well,  what was the name of the movie?

I don’t remember but that guy was in it that you like.

That I like? Well, what else has he been in?

Oh, he’s been in lots of stuff,  oh you know!  He was in that movie where that guy sunk on that boat.

Oh Titanic?

No!  Not Titanic!

Well what night was it on?

Uh, it was on . . . last week I think.

Oh yeah, I know what movie you’re talking about.  Yeah.  It had that guy I like in it.  I wish I could remember his name.

Oh what was the name of that movie!  It’s on the tip of my tongue.

I don’t know – but I want to buy it. 

Well, it wasn’t that good.

Yes it was.  It’s the best movie that’s guy’s ever been in.

No, he was way better in that other movie he was in.

What movie was that?

Oh I can’t remember the name of it.  You  know the one where his monkey catches on fire.

Oh Titanic?

No! Not Titanic!

Oh wait . . .  yeah!  Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I know what movie you’re talking about.  Yeah it was really good!  I want to buy that one too!

Well, it wasn’t that good.

Well what do you know, you can’t even remember the name of the movie.

Well, either can you.

So?

This is how most our conversations end now.  With one of us saying, “so”.   Then we’ll wander into the living room and turn on TV.

And if we’re lucky?  There won’t be a movie on with that guy in it.

Until next time . . . I love you

Pushing Spanish Olives Down Our 1958 Throats

Hello Dear Readers! Today as a special treat, we will be revisiting the Imported Spanish Olive Industry of 1958 through the pages of this glorious pamphlet:

The Magic of Olives with 35 delicious new recipes from 1958!

The Magic of Olives with 35 delicious new recipes from 1958!

How the Imported Spanish Olive Industry all Began

Legend has it that back in 1958, a brave Madison Avenue Advertising Executive hitched a ride on a steamboat to a land called Spain where he promptly fell into a siesta (which loosely translated means asleep) under a Spanish Green Olive Tree.

When he awoke, he was famished and picked a Spanish Green Olive off a branch of the tree, thinking it a very strange little Spanish apple of some sort and popped it into his mouth after which he exclaimed “Ay Carumba!  And viola! just like that the Imported Spanish Green Olive Industry of 1958 was born!

The next thing you know, Imported Spanish Olives of 1958 were spicing up practically every dish in America, Canada, and most of Nova Scotia in concoctions like Hacienda Chicken.

Hacienda Chicken which loosely translated means Hacienda Chicken

This dish is called Hacienda Chicken which loosely translated means Hacienda Chicken

In this dish, we are experiencing the joy of Imported Spanish Olives as they siesta (see above for translation) atop an unmade bed of rice — lending much-needed pizazz to the orange objects which deductive reasoning tells us must be the Hacienda Chicken!

Next up we have Olive Salmon Noodle Ring:

This dish is called Olive Salmon Noodle Ring which loosely translated means Hacienda Chicken

This dish is called Olive Salmon Noodle Ring which loosely translated means Hacienda Chicken

In this dish, North Americans of 1958 could experience the magic of  the noodle-salmon- olive teaming the likes of which hadn’t been experienced since the Spanish Conquistadors threw After Conquer Parties in the corridors of the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria!

And notice how the Imported Spanish Olives lend an air of importance to the  salmon.   Surrounding it as if to say, “I’m circling you Mr. Senor or Mr. Senorita!

And finally there’s this shameless blatant shout out to the Spanish Olive:

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What this sandwich lacks in imagination it makes up for in Imported Spanish Olives!  The idea being that even the simplest of North American dishes of 1958 could be made just that much better through the stacking, piling and/or slathering on of Imported Spanish Olives!

And if this doesn’t make the average household of North American want to run to (or possibly from) the dinner table, the Imported Spanish Olive Industry of 1958 doesn’t know what will!

Until next time . . . I love you

The Further Adventures of the Casserole People of 1965

Hello Dear Readers!  Remember our favorite family, the Perfects, who live out their perfectly happy lives within the pages of a 1965 Casserole Cookbook?

The Perfects, Father Ken, Mother Kendra, Fine Young Lad Kenny and Girl the Size of a New born Baby with Abilities and Hair Far Beyond Her Years, What's Her Name

The Perfects, Father Ken, Mother Kendra, Fine Young Lad Kenny and Girl the Size of a Newborn Baby with Abilities and Hair Far Beyond Her Years, What’s Her Name

Well this blog is saddened to report that the Perfects have been having a little problem with Perfect Father Ken.  Lately his behavior has become a little uh . . .well see for yourself:

img602

It all started out one fine morning in the Casserole People Cook Book just after the page had been turned.  Everything was going along as usual.  Perfect Mother Kendra was mixing up a batch of  hot cake casserole and Fine Young Lad, Kenny, and Baby Sister, What’s Her Name, were helping their mother — dressed up in finery with matching chef hats as usual.  Even their dog, Spot, was fully present in both mind and spirit!

But where was Perfect Father Ken?

Father Ken called in sick to work so he could do this.

Instead of going to the office, where Perfect Father Ken had been cheerfully employed everyday of his life since he was six months old, Perfect Father Ken had decided, instead, to enlist the help of the family mouse, KenKen to help him knit.  Naturally Perfect Mother Kendra and the Perfect children handled this very strange turn of events by pretending it just wasn’t happening.

Later that day, Perfect Mother Kendra tried to broach the subject with her Perfect Neighbor Nan.

Nan, I have a question to ask you.Shoot!Does your husband ever have a nervous breakdown?Oh is that all?  All the time!  I thought you were going to say he was irregular!  When that happens I merely give him Seconal!  I've got an extra bottle.  I'll let you have it."Thanks Nan!Don't mention it.

“Say, Nan, I have a rather awkward question to ask you.  I’m having a little problem with my Perfect Husband, Ken.”
“Shoot!”
“Well, uh . . does your husband, Ned, ever have a nervous breakdown?”
“Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say your Perfect Husband, Ken, was irregular!  Listen, my Ned is always having nervous breakdowns.  And when that happens, I merely give him Seconal! I’ve got an extra bottle. I’ll let you have it.”
“Thanks Nan! You’re a sport!”
“Don’t mention it. After all, what are neighbors for?”

Perfect Neighbor Nan gave Perfect Mother Kendra an economy-sized bottle of Seconal.  Mother Kendra quickly ran home for it was nearly time to prepare the lunch casserole.

The Perfect children watched enraptured as Perfect Mother Kendra prepared Seconal Casserole for the noon day meal.

The Perfect children watched enraptured as Perfect Mother Kendra prepared two casseroles, one for the children and herself, and one especially for Perfect Father Ken.

When she was done she put them both on the table.

img609

“I must remember that this lunch custard casserole is the one that has the Seconal for Father, and this lunch custard casserole doesn’t . . . or is it the other way around?”

After lunch, Perfect Father Ken took the Perfect children out to play.  When Perfect Mother Kendra peeked outside and saw Perfect Father Ken playing with the Perfect children, she was very much relieved by what she saw.

Perfect Father Ken was back to being his old self!

Perfect Father Ken was back to being his old self!

Perfect Mother Kendra made a mental note to thank her Perfect Neighbor Nan by baking her a Seconal Luncheon Custard Casserole for her lunch tomorrow!

Until next time . . . I love you

Trifecta Writing Challenge: On The Internal Organ Fortitude of Writing

Hello Dear Readers!  It’s time for the weekly Trifecta Challenge and this week we are being prompted by the third definition of  word:  anticipation:

On The Internal Organ Fortitude of Writing

In anticipation of participation concerning this week’s Trifecta dissertation

I thought it wise to compromise with this small negotiation:

Certain words I will not use

Like “whatever” and “ginormous”

Those words I think we all abuse

In word salad’s bord of Smorgas

 

And then there’s times when nothing rhymes

And spelling’s out the door

We feel just like we might become

Vice President Al Gore!

 

When all seems lost and at any cost

We cannot buy a vowel

We think our wrists to slit, we will!

But we only have a trowel . . .

 

Well that is life

And we struggle through

Its ups and then it’s downs

Even though it makes us feel like awkward nauseous clowns

 

And so I beg you writers all

Not to tremble nor to quiver

For to live life as twas meant to be

You have to be a live-r.

"I'm a liver and I'm livin' it up!  Woooooohoooooo!"

 I’m livin’ it up! Woooooohoooooo!”

Until next time . . . I love you

Pottery Barn Calls Off the Search for Grams

Dear Readers,

When last we visited our Pottery Barn catalog, they were having an emergency.  Sadly, Pottery Barn’s beloved family matriarch “Grams” had gone missing.

img594

This is Grams — The Pottery Barn Family’s Beloved Matriarch

Putting 2 and 2 together, Pottery Barn has ascertained that Grams was last seen truffle hunting on Labor Day in the Sustainable Pottery Barn Forests (that Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn only has dibs on)Grams was last seen

Putting 2 and 2 together, Pottery Barn had ascertained after studying this white board ($54) that Grams was last seen truffle hunting on Labor Day in the Sustainable Pottery Barn Forests.

Pottery Barn’s Official Announcement

After looking everywhere including underneath the Valencia II Mahogany Sleigh Bed $599 ($150 savings!), Pottery Barn has completely given up their search for their beloved Grams and are no longer offering the $15.00 reward for her return  –dead or whatever — so they can turn the full force of their attention back onto the more important matter of selling overpriced Christmas decor.

Pottery Barn is quick to point out, however,  it’s not that they don’t dearly love Grams, it’s just that they don’t dearly love Grams all that much. (PB asks that you do not judge them.)

Okay that’s enough about Grams.  Let’s see what Christmas Pottery Barn Catalog has to offer this year:

The Pottery Barn Sustainable Forest Christmas Tree. (Hardly any elves were killed in the cutting of this Christmas Tree.)

The Glorious Pottery Barn Sustainable Forest Christmas Tree. hallelujah!!  Wait . . . who’s that looking in the window?  Uh . . . well PB says pay no attention to that old lady looking in the window.  She’s probably just some Homeless Pottery Barn Lifestyle Wannabe.

From its beaded snowflake tree-topper ($55), to its spectacularly quilted tree skirt ($55), Pottery Barn has chopped down this gorgeous Pine tree from The Pottery Barn Sustainable Forests in the prime of its life especially for the PB Catalog so that potential PB customers may feast their eyes upon it for approximately two and a half to three seconds.  Pottery Barn was careful to ensure that only 1 (one) wood nymph was accidentally killed in the process ($55 $6).

But Pottery Barn doesn’t want you to think about that now, Pottery Barn wants you to look at this:

Grams looking in window

A table setting fit for a King! From the exquisite pressed metal reindeer ($59 free shipping) to the candle votives pre-filled with wax and wick  ($24), to the lovely pine cone . . . wait a minute . . . there she is again! The homeless old lady . . . not to worry . . . Pottery Barn has called the authorities. Something will be done! PB asks that you avert your eyes away from the unpleasantness of the random old lady whom PB has never seen before in its life, btw, and concentrate instead, on the craftsmanship of the Lit Mercury Globes ($24.50).

And now Pottery Barn is proud to present for the first time anywhere  . . . drum roll please  . . . 

Grams decor (2)

The Grams Commemorative Christmas Ornament Collector’s Edition

Nickel is the keyword here! Handcrafted out of nickle by the semi-skilled hands of nickle-over-minimum-wage PB Master Hand Crafters,  The Commemorative Grams Ornament promises to bring Christmas drama to any tree, be it from the Pottery Barn Sustainable Forest or be it from some other lesser quality forest.  At any rate,  Pottery Barn thinks you’ll agree The Commemorative Grams Ornament meets every expectation.  ($5,199 ea. or 6 for $7,599).

And finally, Pottery Barn is offering this Tivoli Coffee Table (delivery discount) with its fine mahogany finish:

The Tivoli Coffee Table in which country living is echo in this table with it's turned spindle legs and hand----wait a minute -- the old lady's back . . . oh great!!  I thought somebody was going to call the police?  What they did already?  Well then unleash the Pottery Barn Attached Dogs, this is getting ridiculous.

The Tivoli Coffee Table echoes simple yet elegant country living and handcra—-wait a minute — uh oh . . . the old lady’s back . . . oh great!! Okay that does it!

Dear Readers, you will have to excuse Pottery Barn for skipping out on the end of this post as Pottery Barn has been called away on an emergency involving a little old lady — who PB has never seen before in its life — who may or may not be dangerous.

In any case, they are currently releasing the Pottery Barn Attack Dogs from their silver-plated,  attacked-dog cages from the Raleigh Kennel Collection ($1,999) and regret having to leave so abruptly.

Until next time . . . Pottery Barn wants you to know that it loves you (as far as you know).

The Weekend Trifecta Writing Challenge: Disaster at the Farmer’s Market

The weekend Trifecta Challenge is as follows:

This weekend we are giving you three variations on a prompt.  We need you to give us 33 words back, and 2 of those words must be either “cheap flights,” “sandwiched in” or “spectacularly clean.”  This weekend, your piece must also be non-fiction (poetry or prose).  And yes, we reserve the right to call your mothers and former lovers to ask for verification on your tales.

Disaster at the Farmer’s Market

Twas my kin

Quite sandwiched in

‘twixt turnips and potatoes

Still alive, he had survived

The horrible tornadoes

I said to Jim (I called him Jim)

 “ Hope you remembered to get tomatoes.”

" uuuhhhhhh . . . ."

“Uh . . . “

This is a true story with the exception of the tornado (it was actually a light breeze from the air-conditioning vent), and we were at Safeway instead of the Farmer’s Market.  But my son, Jim, did remember to get tomatoes . . .  except they were potatoes.

***

Until next time . . . I love you

Trifecta Writing Challenge: El Guapo Guapola Takes the Plunge!

Hello Dear Readers!  It’s time once again for the Trifecta Writing Challenge. This week our prompt for the story is the third definition of crush:: to reduce to particles by pounding or grinding <crush rock>

El Guapo Guapola Takes the Plunge!

Full-Time Adventurer and Part-Time Blogger, El Guapo Guapola and his hired Sherpa, Jimmy, trudged through the snow at the base of Mount Everest, synchronizing their steps to the rhythm of ZZTop – Double Back as they began their historic ascent up the mountain.

For you see,  El Guapo Guapola was about to attempt to become the very first human to bungee jump from the top of Mount Everest, and, if he was successful, he would not only have the world at his feet, he might possibly have the world as far up as his mid-thy.

“Jimmy, my man,” said El Guapo.  “Hand me another clove cigarette so that I may dangle it languidly from my lips.”*

Jimmy reached into his backpack and fished out a clove cigarette.  “Would you like your usual shot of Jameson to go with that?”

“But of course!”  said our hero.

The only sound that could be heard was the crush of ice as Jimmy set up a full rocks glass of Jameson.  EG downed the shot.  Smooth*  and thought about a Sunday afternoon long ago where the very same drink had been the catalyst for his historic naked dance on the bar of a pub he couldn’t remember the name of.

As they climbed higher, EG was starting to get chilled from the Arctic (or possibly Antarctic) winds and began to question his decision to wear his Lucky Rock Climbing Outfit. He was thankful he had remembered to include his ski clothes in Jimmy’s backpack.

When at last they reached the summit, Jimmy fastened the bungee cord to El Guapo Guapola’s ankle.  But El Guapo just couldn’t take the cold any longer.  He would have to change into his ski clothes before taking the plunge.

Quickly he tore off his rock climbing clothes.  But just then his toes. Start. To Slip*.

. . . and the rest is history . . .

The Magnificent Hair of the man who wanted a pony!  Happy Birthday to you!!!

The Magnificent Hair of the man who wanted a pony! Happy Birthday to you!!!

* Writing by El Guapo, Paraphrasing by Linda Vernon

Until next time . . . I love you