This one is from Ron... a most wonderful teller of true stories.
He promises the ending soon... take a tissue with you.
One of the first blogs I ever read, and Lee was one of my first commenters.
Go visit him, too. Another kind heart in our crazy world.
Actually, take the time to visit all the blogs on my sidebar... every one of them is worth your time. Enjoy.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Sears has the right idea...
I found this over at Curmudgeonisms this morning.
He checked it out with Snopes.... and got a nice response by e-mail from Sears.
I may go shopping today!
...thanks, Dave.
He checked it out with Snopes.... and got a nice response by e-mail from Sears.
I may go shopping today!
...thanks, Dave.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Your Choice...
Take me
or leave me,
simple as
that.
Nothing
will change here,
done with all
that.
It's good
or it isn't,
make up your
mind.
Life goes
too quickly to
navigate
blind.
You can
sit on the bench,
wait for the next
bus.
There's more
where this came from,
if perfection you must
lust.
Just try
to remember,
while drooling on
candy.
That aged
wine you passed by,
was probably
dandy.
or leave me,
simple as
that.
Nothing
will change here,
done with all
that.
It's good
or it isn't,
make up your
mind.
Life goes
too quickly to
navigate
blind.
You can
sit on the bench,
wait for the next
bus.
There's more
where this came from,
if perfection you must
lust.
Just try
to remember,
while drooling on
candy.
That aged
wine you passed by,
was probably
dandy.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Dear You,
Stop forgetting that I am your friend!
There is no agenda here. No debt owed for caring.
Just want us to share laughter and tears as they come.
Don't hide. Reach out from your darkness.
I'm here.
Love,
Me
There is no agenda here. No debt owed for caring.
Just want us to share laughter and tears as they come.
Don't hide. Reach out from your darkness.
I'm here.
Love,
Me
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Always and Forever...
Remind me again of
the whispered promise.
Eternal, forever
all the tomorrows.
Can a promise be kept as
time goes by?
Do words from then mean
the same today?
Do hearts change as
truths unveil?
As lives change does
love change along?
Do we promise forever but
hope for tomorrow?
the whispered promise.
Eternal, forever
all the tomorrows.
Can a promise be kept as
time goes by?
Do words from then mean
the same today?
Do hearts change as
truths unveil?
As lives change does
love change along?
Do we promise forever but
hope for tomorrow?
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Mom's Good Boy...
When Michael brought him home he was only six weeks old and already bigger than a football. His chest was so big that my hands could not wrap around it.
I didn't want another dog. Our last one had just died a few months before and, with five cats in the house, we really didn't need another animal.
Michael had started a new job on the night shift. He didn't want me to be alone while he was at work. And, I had a second job teaching for the local Safety Council, which meant that I came home after 10 p.m. two or three nights a week. So, when he saw a sign in the neighborhood that said "Free Puppies", he stopped to look at them and came home with Corky.
I picked up the puppy and he immediately snuggled his face in my neck. I put him on my lap and he let out a long, loud sigh and fell asleep. That's all it took. We had a new dog.
And, even better... he was housebroken in less than twenty-four hours!
I kid you not.
For the next sixteen years Corky was my protector. He made me feel safe.
Especially after Michael committed suicide and I decided to continue living in the house.
For the nine years since then, I always knew he would be waiting at the gate for me whenever I got home. And, he followed me down the driveway to the gate every morning as I left for work.
I can still hear his nails clicking on the concrete. He was Mom's Good Boy.
He didn't really start to show signs of aging until a couple of years ago. I noticed his eyes getting cloudy from cataracts... cold weather seemed to make his hips stiff... and he wasn't quite as quick to react to little noises.
But, he still patrolled and guarded... and made me feel safe.
This weekend, old age finally took its toll. Corky died.
It wasn't easy for either of us.
Truth...
I helped him die.
I got home from work Saturday afternoon and headed to the garage to give him his dinner.
He hadn't been waiting for me in the driveway. He wasn't in the garage or his dog house.
I walked out of the garage and saw him lying in the back yard. He was breathing hard.
I called to him, but he didn't get up. I walked to him.
He was limp and panting. I got a bottle of water and let him drink from my cupped hand.
Don't know how long he had been there. Completely limp. Got his quilt from the garage. Tugged it under him until I could use it to drag him back into the garage. I sat with him. Petted him.
And cried.
He drank more water. Ate a bit of canned food. Seemed to be sleeping. I went in the house.
Crying.
Left a message at the vet's office. But, he was too heavy for me to pick up to go anywhere.
Walked out the back door. Corky was standing at the water bowl! I went to him. He wagged his tail. He walked back to the garage to his food bowl. Ate a little. Curled up on his quilt.
It was late. I went to bed. Slept fitfully. Bad dreams.
Sunday, late morning. I hear a dog barking. Moaning.
Outside, I find Corky behind the garage. Give him more water from my hand. He is limp again.
Panting. Stomach seems to be convulsing. Moaning dammit I don't know what to do his bowels have left a puddle beneath him he's in pain goddammit he won't take any more water I'm sorry Corky tell me what to do I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry why can't I help him my poor old puppy I keep petting him crying crying wait pills left over from my back in the bedroom where is that damn bottle there it won't open why won't the lid let go nail file cutting the bottle shit not working finally lid off wait sleeping pills maybe two of those will help him back outside take the pills Corky take the pills open your mouth please Mom wants to help the pain go away here take some more water swallow the pills don't spit them out brush off the sand open your mouth for me please more water good boy good boy swallow good boy crying crying on my knees petting his head kissing his nose it will get better soon breathing slower are you sleeping breathing easier oh damn let him rest easy no more pain.
I stand up. Walk to my car. Drive to a park on the river.
Crying.
Call a friend. Talk a while. Say good-bye I have to check on my dog.
Home.
Corky? Behind the garage. He is still. Not moving. I kneel beside him.
Crying.
He is cold. Rigor mortis already.
Find a shovel. Sugar sand. Hole keeps caving in. Digging digging digging.
Quilt in the hole. His grave. Drag him to the hole. Fold the quilt around him. Pet him one last time. No more pain. No more pain. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry my old puppy.
Sand is heavy in the shovel. Cover him. Cover him with the sand. More sand. Done.
I can't breathe...
It hurts too much.
I didn't want another dog. Our last one had just died a few months before and, with five cats in the house, we really didn't need another animal.
Michael had started a new job on the night shift. He didn't want me to be alone while he was at work. And, I had a second job teaching for the local Safety Council, which meant that I came home after 10 p.m. two or three nights a week. So, when he saw a sign in the neighborhood that said "Free Puppies", he stopped to look at them and came home with Corky.
I picked up the puppy and he immediately snuggled his face in my neck. I put him on my lap and he let out a long, loud sigh and fell asleep. That's all it took. We had a new dog.
And, even better... he was housebroken in less than twenty-four hours!
I kid you not.
For the next sixteen years Corky was my protector. He made me feel safe.
Especially after Michael committed suicide and I decided to continue living in the house.
For the nine years since then, I always knew he would be waiting at the gate for me whenever I got home. And, he followed me down the driveway to the gate every morning as I left for work.
I can still hear his nails clicking on the concrete. He was Mom's Good Boy.
He didn't really start to show signs of aging until a couple of years ago. I noticed his eyes getting cloudy from cataracts... cold weather seemed to make his hips stiff... and he wasn't quite as quick to react to little noises.
But, he still patrolled and guarded... and made me feel safe.
This weekend, old age finally took its toll. Corky died.
It wasn't easy for either of us.
Truth...
I helped him die.
I got home from work Saturday afternoon and headed to the garage to give him his dinner.
He hadn't been waiting for me in the driveway. He wasn't in the garage or his dog house.
I walked out of the garage and saw him lying in the back yard. He was breathing hard.
I called to him, but he didn't get up. I walked to him.
He was limp and panting. I got a bottle of water and let him drink from my cupped hand.
Don't know how long he had been there. Completely limp. Got his quilt from the garage. Tugged it under him until I could use it to drag him back into the garage. I sat with him. Petted him.
And cried.
He drank more water. Ate a bit of canned food. Seemed to be sleeping. I went in the house.
Crying.
Left a message at the vet's office. But, he was too heavy for me to pick up to go anywhere.
Walked out the back door. Corky was standing at the water bowl! I went to him. He wagged his tail. He walked back to the garage to his food bowl. Ate a little. Curled up on his quilt.
It was late. I went to bed. Slept fitfully. Bad dreams.
Sunday, late morning. I hear a dog barking. Moaning.
Outside, I find Corky behind the garage. Give him more water from my hand. He is limp again.
Panting. Stomach seems to be convulsing. Moaning dammit I don't know what to do his bowels have left a puddle beneath him he's in pain goddammit he won't take any more water I'm sorry Corky tell me what to do I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry why can't I help him my poor old puppy I keep petting him crying crying wait pills left over from my back in the bedroom where is that damn bottle there it won't open why won't the lid let go nail file cutting the bottle shit not working finally lid off wait sleeping pills maybe two of those will help him back outside take the pills Corky take the pills open your mouth please Mom wants to help the pain go away here take some more water swallow the pills don't spit them out brush off the sand open your mouth for me please more water good boy good boy swallow good boy crying crying on my knees petting his head kissing his nose it will get better soon breathing slower are you sleeping breathing easier oh damn let him rest easy no more pain.
I stand up. Walk to my car. Drive to a park on the river.
Crying.
Call a friend. Talk a while. Say good-bye I have to check on my dog.
Home.
Corky? Behind the garage. He is still. Not moving. I kneel beside him.
Crying.
He is cold. Rigor mortis already.
Find a shovel. Sugar sand. Hole keeps caving in. Digging digging digging.
Quilt in the hole. His grave. Drag him to the hole. Fold the quilt around him. Pet him one last time. No more pain. No more pain. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry my old puppy.
Sand is heavy in the shovel. Cover him. Cover him with the sand. More sand. Done.
I can't breathe...
It hurts too much.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Survey Results... Bumpin' Uglies
I know, I know... I am a slacker.
27 of you contributed.
Here are all the submissions... Drum roll, please...
Sparrow (this girl is impressive!) : horizontal mambo, makin' bacon, doing the wild thing, humping, going at it, jumping your bones, balling, pounditation, shagging, schtupping, riding the pink pony, riding the dolphin, makin' whoopie, boinking, boffing, mattress olympics, canoodling, playing hide the salami (pepperoni, slim jim).
Aspergantus (not bad, either) : wettin' the pencil, stump grinding, probing the clam, riding the subway, dipping the pen in the ink well, letting the boys loose.
Mark: doing the big nasty.
Walrilla (might have to ask him for some specifics on this!) : makin' the beast with two backs.
Bob: bumping fuzz, the brillo shining the pot.
Lee: fuckitation (from his wife), snuggies and pumpies, (and, from his parental perspective) getting dressed, taking a nap, taking a shower, I'may akednay.
LL (MUCH milder than I expected) : having carnal knowledge, knowing in the Biblical way, porking.
Sgt Hook and Jimbo : knockin' boots.
Hannelie (from Australia) : Nooki.
Anonymous (I'm thinking this is Eric, 'cause of the famous ellipses) : ...servicing the machine...
Loria (BigBadWolf's wife) : clean the pipes out, making whoopie, doing the nasty, getting some excercise.
BigBadWolf (Loria's hubby) : the horizontal mambo, bed aerobics, doin' the nasty, gettin' freaky, gettin' some, push-ups with a payoff, slap and tickle, a roll in the hay.
Dave : let's get kinky, screwin'.
Nea : shag the beaver, love making.
Freddie : wanna play?, rock me to sleep.
Velociman (I have to do his full statement here...) : Well, if it's with a fat person it's corpulation.
James Hooker : stump grinding.
Desert Cat : dancing in the sheets, washing machine, roll in the hay, doin' the horizontal bop, making a little magic, having a quickie, rocking and rolling.
Anon (no idea who this is) : hide the pickle.
Valerie (she really went to town) : getting my cylinder honed, staff inspection, getting down, how about a friendly poke?, baby OH baby, shake the dew off the tent, I'm naked!, will you roast my weinie?, let me lick your magic mushroom, fool around, watching the submarine races, a little hanky-panky, free mustache ride, tickle the peanut, magic carpet ride, you show me yours I'll show you mine, wanna get laid?
Boneman (heh... kind of appropriate) : gettin' some, doon' it, spoonin' fronts, belly bumpin', mixin' up the jam, searchin' fer bees in a honey pot.
and, last but not least...
Alan (from Scotland, and I have to include his full statement also) : there simply is no substitute for fucking, in my opinion...
Of course, the title... Bumpin' Uglies... was my entry, but I just thought of one more...
afternoon delight... mmm mmmm.
This was way fun... and, I want to thank everyone for participating. Ya'll are great!
27 of you contributed.
Here are all the submissions... Drum roll, please...
Sparrow (this girl is impressive!) : horizontal mambo, makin' bacon, doing the wild thing, humping, going at it, jumping your bones, balling, pounditation, shagging, schtupping, riding the pink pony, riding the dolphin, makin' whoopie, boinking, boffing, mattress olympics, canoodling, playing hide the salami (pepperoni, slim jim).
Aspergantus (not bad, either) : wettin' the pencil, stump grinding, probing the clam, riding the subway, dipping the pen in the ink well, letting the boys loose.
Mark: doing the big nasty.
Walrilla (might have to ask him for some specifics on this!) : makin' the beast with two backs.
Bob: bumping fuzz, the brillo shining the pot.
Lee: fuckitation (from his wife), snuggies and pumpies, (and, from his parental perspective) getting dressed, taking a nap, taking a shower, I'may akednay.
LL (MUCH milder than I expected) : having carnal knowledge, knowing in the Biblical way, porking.
Sgt Hook and Jimbo : knockin' boots.
Hannelie (from Australia) : Nooki.
Anonymous (I'm thinking this is Eric, 'cause of the famous ellipses) : ...servicing the machine...
Loria (BigBadWolf's wife) : clean the pipes out, making whoopie, doing the nasty, getting some excercise.
BigBadWolf (Loria's hubby) : the horizontal mambo, bed aerobics, doin' the nasty, gettin' freaky, gettin' some, push-ups with a payoff, slap and tickle, a roll in the hay.
Dave : let's get kinky, screwin'.
Nea : shag the beaver, love making.
Freddie : wanna play?, rock me to sleep.
Velociman (I have to do his full statement here...) : Well, if it's with a fat person it's corpulation.
James Hooker : stump grinding.
Desert Cat : dancing in the sheets, washing machine, roll in the hay, doin' the horizontal bop, making a little magic, having a quickie, rocking and rolling.
Anon (no idea who this is) : hide the pickle.
Valerie (she really went to town) : getting my cylinder honed, staff inspection, getting down, how about a friendly poke?, baby OH baby, shake the dew off the tent, I'm naked!, will you roast my weinie?, let me lick your magic mushroom, fool around, watching the submarine races, a little hanky-panky, free mustache ride, tickle the peanut, magic carpet ride, you show me yours I'll show you mine, wanna get laid?
Boneman (heh... kind of appropriate) : gettin' some, doon' it, spoonin' fronts, belly bumpin', mixin' up the jam, searchin' fer bees in a honey pot.
and, last but not least...
Alan (from Scotland, and I have to include his full statement also) : there simply is no substitute for fucking, in my opinion...
Of course, the title... Bumpin' Uglies... was my entry, but I just thought of one more...
afternoon delight... mmm mmmm.
This was way fun... and, I want to thank everyone for participating. Ya'll are great!
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Please, go visit...
Friday, November 03, 2006
A Curious Revelation...
I have never been in love.
And... no one has ever been in love with me.
Curiously, this does not make me sad.
I don't think I am alone in this. Most people settle. I did.
I married the first man who asked me... because I thought I might
never be asked again.
The marriage lasted nineteen long years and ended badly.
There cannot be love where there is no respect.
Heh... right now the jukebox is playing
the Eagles "Victim of Love".
But, you cannot be a victim of something that
does not exist to you.
Wishing does not make it happen.
Life goes on.
And... no one has ever been in love with me.
Curiously, this does not make me sad.
I don't think I am alone in this. Most people settle. I did.
I married the first man who asked me... because I thought I might
never be asked again.
The marriage lasted nineteen long years and ended badly.
There cannot be love where there is no respect.
Heh... right now the jukebox is playing
the Eagles "Victim of Love".
But, you cannot be a victim of something that
does not exist to you.
Wishing does not make it happen.
Life goes on.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Beautiful weather...
...are you there because the weather is beautiful?
Or, is the weather beautiful because you are there?
Or, is the weather beautiful because you are there?
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