Dining al Fresco w/ a lizard


Today, I am home. It is a sunny Saturday, and just as I am about to begin mindlessly shoveling spinach-kale salad into my mouth like a hungry hungry hippo going after marbles*, I stop myself. With great exaggerated purpose, I push back from the kitchen table and march myself and salad out to our patio table that overlooks a pond. I sit, smiling in contentment, while marveling at the exotic birds that my family can’t readily enjoy in St. Louis or Portland, unless they were to visit the zoo.

I soon notice that I have company. One of the battalions of small lizards that populate the area is watching me eat. Perhaps it was a “large headed anole”, but that would be confirmed only after googling. He might very well have been a relative of, or an actual, Rescue Lizard. It is my self-assigned duty to pounce on the baby lizards and miniscule frog infants that loved to follow us into our nice, cool home. I crawl around, cupping my hands to capture them, only to have them frantically trying to flee. How they tickle my palms!  The operation is a success if I manage to trap the little guy and set him/her/it safely back outside on a broad leaf. It is a sad day, however, if they are faster and run behind a bookcase. They are now doomed.

So, there I sat with my new acquaintance and shared a Moment. Each of us was enjoying the gentle breeze as we basked in the sun. I marveled at the creature’s ability to remain so immobile. Little majestic lizard posing for its portrait. That sort of composure is unimaginable to me, even during yoga, when I am one big squirm that cannot be contained no matter how many ohms are sounded out. Yet, this tiny creature stays frozen in position like an accomplished Yogi.

Lunch is over. I gather up my bowl to return to the coolness of my condo. But then I turn back, wanting to leave a tiny piece of lettuce for my new BFF. That was when I realized what sparked his motivation to remain so calm and still.

He was dead.

How rude.

And suddenly it was all too clear; the parallels to our country. Our entire world! You think you’re having a discussion, but the other side isn’t listening. Or alive, for that matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      I THINK THIS WAS ONCE PUBLISHED IN MEDIUM, BUT WHAT REMINDED ME TO SHARE WAS TODAY’S POST BY MICHAEL MEYERHOFER’S: POEM FOR THE BUG ON MY BASEMENT FLOOR. CHECK IT OUT: https://eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2017/01/27/poem-for-the-bug-on-my-basement-floor/

*FYI = Hungry Hungry Hippos is a children’s game.


today i am channeling e.e.cummings’ disdain of capital letters and simultaneously participating in wordpress’s daily word challenge: use the word “simple” for inspiration. here we go. warning: gross exaggerations and complete fabrications to follow.

oftentimes, i simply forget my place in life. i think that it is my duty to inform the grocery shopper in front of me how to determine if they belong in this line, “it’s quite simple: simply count your items and if they exceed 10 (why, look: you have 27 items) then you move your cart out of the express lane and over to another lane. you see how simple that is?” other times, it would be more simple to ignore their selfish act … or, in my deepest dreams, i throttle the idiot and stuff their body into their shopping cart and complain, “look! this is simply unacceptable: they have 28 items! someone call the manager.”

or perhaps i am trying to pay attention to my husband’s explanation of a tax law; it simply cannot be done. my brain puts up a force-field and if new information cannot be whittled down to its most basic, simple component, then i am hard-wired to fall asleep.

my needs are simple: chocolate, cuddles, and something to write with/about/for, and to hell with dangling participles. yes, it is that simple.



It’s NOT the end of the world as we know it

Rudeness is rampant! Fear is on every street corner like those bums who try to hit you up for spare change. Democrats boycotted the Inauguration, which, come to think of it, seems only fair since Republicans boycotted respect [R-E-S-P-E-C-T] for former President Obama during most of his State of the Nation speeches. Those rude boys just sat on their big fat rumps and refused to stand during ovations. They didn’t have to applaud: but they did need to stand up in respect for the office.

Trump snubbed Hillary on his walk to the podium … didn’t even acknowledge her! no handshake, no nothing. That is the definition of “rude”. You can check Webster’s.

Our citizens are rioting in the streets. Stop it right now. The election is over. We now have a new president. This is not some third world nation where coups are a matter of fact after every election. We have class. America is already Great. Everybody, please calm  the **** down and go grab a cold brew. It’s the WEEKEND, for goodness sakes. Save it for Monday, when everyone is already cranky.

How to Handle Stress

I wish I had written this! Nice twist to the ending…

Single Dads are Cool!

Picture yourself near a stream.

Birds are softly chirping in the crisp, cool, mountain air.

No one knows your secret place.

You are in total seclusion from that hectic place called “the world”.

The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.

The water is clear.

You can easily make out the face of the person you’re holding under the water.

There now…..feeling better???


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Missed me?

I missed you, oh Blog of Mine. I missed the feeling that I was sharing secrets with you, that you were the only one in the whole wide world who truly understood me. It is so nice to be back. My experiment showed me that, while I can get along without FB, I can never give up email! There is something that is soul-satisfying about hitting that DELETE button on a particularly annoying, unwanted advertisement-disguised as Important News. And don’t get me started on the ecstasy of being able to DELETE FOREVER? nasty, scummy spam, although I wish that I could send them to some sort of  purgatory. I don’t like predators. And it absolutely destroys me to think that some gullible person opened a piece of spam and unleashed Pandora’s Box.

Sometimes I have to scan over 50 new emails, only to discover that not one of them is personal, from a human to a human. That can get depressing, just a bit. So, I write someone a quick note, just to get a response. (Plus, I still run to the mailbox 20 times a day to check it, even though I know delivery isn’t until five in the afternoon. I love snail mail, too. Especially if there is a package. I do a whole lotta online shopping. Everyday is my birthday!)

Aw, did you just say “Welcome Back?”. Thank you! I missed you, too. 🙂