It's been raining intermittently today as the tail of Isaac's outer-most eastern band passed over us today. Luckily, no thunder this a.m. so I could get to water aerobics at the Y. Thundered later a bit, but sun is out now. It's one of those liquid sunshine kind of days. I'm also pleased to report, since last night, someone has purchased one of the ties I just posted in my Zazzle store! Cool beans! Today's Mama Kat Prompt is: What do you remember most about your childhood bedroom? That's a good question and it has a pretty funny answer. First you have to picture that my 2 younger sisters and I shared one large. That by itself is memorable. It must have been at least 20' x 20' in size and the 3 of us each had a corner of it to call our own. I slept in a double bed, while my 2 sisters slept in the bunk-bed our Dad had built. He had carpentry skills and it was a huge, sturdy thing, larger then any store-bought bunk. Here's the funny pa...
“ This Christmas,” our Mother firmly and unexpectedly announced, “there will be NO chocolate.” My sisters and I stared at her incredulously. What, no chocolate? It was inconceivable! You see, every year, for as long as I could remember, there had been chocolate on Christmas. Not just a little chocolate, but an opulent extravaganza of chocolate that would've made even Willy Wonka blush. Empty decorative bowls would be laid out on Christmas Eve, enough to cover our 7 foot dining table, only to be “magically” filled by morning with Hershey’s Kisses, Hershey's Mini-bars, chocolate peanut clusters, chocolate turtles, chocolate cremes, M&M's of both types, chocolate stars, chocolate-covered cherries, Tootsie rolls and candy bars of every type. It was a veritable chocolate feast the Ghost of Christmas Present would surely admire. How...
The Mama Kat prompt topic for today is: "Tell us about a job you quit...and why?" I suppose everyone has a job they've quit at some point. I quit mine after 17 years. I used to work for a local flower shop as a floral designer. When I was first hired, the manager was a woman named Millie. She's actually the one who trained me and she was a pretty good manager. She provided a strong sense of leadership, clear guidelines for everyone to follow, hosted feed-back/brain-storming sessions for her employees and was smart enough to have an assistant manager, so she didn't have to be there every minute. About 18 months later, Millie decided to retire and her assistant manager, Donna, took over as manager. Now the flower shop was actually owned by a Frenchman named Alain, who was a very savvy businessman. He just did the books, paid the bills and set the financial goals for the managers. Donna was a decent manager. She was there Monday through Friday...
What most people think of when you say, "hail." "Umm, we're gonna tell." I stared with appall at my fellow 4th grade classmates, who were standing around me by the 12 foot floor-to-ceiling window just as a hail storm began peppering cars below us with ice pellets. I had only just made a simple weather observation. "Look, hail," I'd said. " That's a cuss word," I was promptly informed. "We're gonna tell," someone else promised. I puffed up defensively. The idea of being "told on" for saying something entirely correct intimidated me, but I would not go down without a fight. "No, it's not ," I insisted, then pointed out the window. "That's what you call rain when it turns into ice balls--HAIL." My classmates eyes bugged and hands flew over...
The Mama Kat's Writing Prompt of choice this week is #5: Share a story about a sibling . My growing up years were full of magic and adventure. I remember so much laughter and romping through sun-dappled woods down to the gurgling creek flowing through the valley below our house, the dog running ahead of us, her tail like a flag in the breeze. My two younger sisters and I could skip agiley over the rocks we placed in the stream for crossing, like little mountain goats, our feet never touching water. There was always adventure to had, flowers to be found, creepy-crawlies to be discovered and I remember our Barbie and Ken dolls enjoyed many a luxurious, stone-lined spa in that stream. However, the particular sibling story I want to tell happened not by the steam, but near the house out in my Mother's garden. Now we're talking a huge garden, two of them, in fact, arranged one above the...
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