That’s Weird, You Know That Right?

Melanie B Cee’s Prompt: Share Your World 8-3-2020

Questions:

What will finally break the Internet?  Do you believe it can be broken at all?

If we find life- any kind of life on another planet or Moon, that will break the internet and if it doesn’t my last shred of hope for humanity will be gone because that news will be BIG.

What are some ‘red flags’ to watch out for in daily life?  (take it as you want)

When someone says to me, ‘ you should walk Fox News so you can hear both sides of the issue I know that I have find a way to gracefully end the conversation or my finger will end up in somebody’s eye. The struggle is real.

 

What’s the silliest thing someone has argued with you about?

There are too many to count. But once my friend called me to give her a ride home- it was really late and she had made her boyfriend pull over and let her out of the car because they had got into a huge, lung busting arugment about who was a bigger whore…

Prince or Madonna.

I thought it was funny then and I still think it’s funny.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve found lying on the ground / side of the road?

I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I found an embalming syringe. It was old and not in great shape but I kept it in a coffee can and I think it’s still in my storage room somewhere.

Photo by Erik Mclean on Pexels.com

Lorna Doone Wasn’t A Cookie

Fandango’s Dog Days of August #3: Monday

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com

I don’t hate Mondays

or Tuesdays

or Wednesdays

I don’t even hate Sundays- the way I used to because they were so BORING when I was a kid.

When I was a kid there were no malls, no cable tv , no internet and the only bright spot on Sundays where going to my Dad’s parent’s house for dinner.

Which in itself was pretty boring until on of the adults got bored so they started to tell stories about whatever tickled their fancy and that was influenced by how much they had been drinking because

we were ALL bored on Sundays.

I remember my Grandmother told this story about a relative of ours who was name- Lorna Doone Godfrey and she was getting to the part about how Lorna passed away my Aunt piped up, ” She ran through the streets yelling, ” I’m a cookie I’m a cookie? “

For the first time EVER I actually saw my family struck speechless and then get on someone for popping out a smart aleck line because that was the point to some of these conversations.

I didn’t see what everyone was so upset. I loved Lorna Doone cookies. When I said as much I was invited to leave the table until I could behave.

It was a weird moment and it stuck with me for years.

It wasn’t until I traced my family tree over the winter that I learned that Lorna and three of her children died in a house fire. Her oldest was away to college any my Great Uncle was away on business so they were spared.

At the time the cookie story made the rounds, they had been dead for maybe 20 years so it wasn’t ancient history- but I do wonder what made my Aunt toss that line in.

Was she drunk? Did she not like her cousins and Aunt? Or was it just to good of a line let go of?

I guess I’ll never know. Most of the adults at the table that day have passed on and my Mom spent all of her time at these dinners ignoring all of us so when she says, ” I don’t know what you’re talking about ” its true.

Like I said, I don’t hate Mondays because sometimes I hate Sundays even more but like them or hate them something interesting can happen so why write them off?

I mean, on that Sunday I learned that Lorna Doone Was Not A Cookie.

Good to know.

Blitzer’s Delight

Putting my Feet In The Dirt Writing #2 : Delights and Deliciousness

Blitzer 2007 by A.M. Moscoso

Once I pulled a bird- I think it was a sparrow, out of my cat’s mouth.

I had seen Blitzer leap out of my Cherry Tree and snatch the bird midflight out of the air and I watched them land on the ground, they were almost at my feet.

Blitzer looked up at me, his eyes were almost closed, he was purring so loud his body shook and his tail was swooshing from side to side, gently in the grass.

I reached down and pushed gently on either side of Blitzer’s jaws and he opened his mouth and the bird flew away.

We both watched it escape-because Blitzer’s eyes were wide open, mine certainly were.

I think the sky was blue that day and it was full of screaming crows.

Then Blitzer got up, rubbed his head against my calf and then he curled his tail around my ankle in a gesture my Son’s used to call a ” tail kiss ” and sauntered off into my herb garden…

where no doubt, he waited for another sparrow to fly by and this time I wouldn’t be there to coax his mouth open to free it and spoil his fun.

On the other hand, I guessed then and I’m sure now that I didn’t spoil all of Blitzer fun because it wasn’t the eating part of pulling down small animals that Blitzer found satisfying and delicious

It was the hunt that he found delightful.