Nowhere Snow

Word of the Day Challenge: Powder

Carl Thiemann “Snowy road to nowhere”

When I was little there were two lessons in nature and science  that actually stuck with me for what turned out to be odd reasons. Entertaining but odd reasons.

One thing I learned from my Grandfather that if you really did see a falling star in the sky over  your head, say your prayers because stars are humongous and you’ll be deep fried before you know it.

The other one I picked up from my friends-  powder snow makes for cruddy snowballs and you can forget thinking about  building snowmen. The only people who liked Powder snow were skiers and who cares about them?

Not a bunch of kids who want to toss snowballs around, that’s for sure.

It was a rule of nature and we took  that rule  seriously as kids, powder snow is useless because all it does is lay there and you can’t make anything out of it.

Lesson learned.

When I grew up I worked in a funeral home and when we were busier then normal I worked in the crematorium.

Because I wasn’t there much, I was super careful  and slow through the entire process.

One day I was finishing up and as I screwed the lid on the base shut I heard this little swoosh from inside of the  urn. Well, maybe I didn’t hear anything as much as I felt the weight shift.

That’s when I thought about powder snow, how it just lays there and how you can’t make anything out of it.

It wasn’t until then that I realized how sad that somewhat obscure rule of nature really was.


One Liner Wednesday- Word of Advice

Today’s quote is some great advice on writing from the author Mark Twain.

I’ve chosen the artwork here to go with it because in all of it’s weirdness this is what happens when when a storyteller doesn’t step all over their work in order to make it perfect. They just let the story tell itself.

The results are glorious.

anita marie

Artist: Google AI

“Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.”

-Mark Twain-

Artists: AI

For Linda G Hill’s One Liner Wednesday

More Fun Then A Barrel of Monkeys

Putting My Feet In The Dirt Prompt #7 Alleviating The Ache

I thought it was the BEST game ever.

I wasn’t the sharpest 6 year old in the world, so when my parents tried to teach me how to play board games I could never catch on because strategy was not one of my strong points.

I could climb trees, I was fearless on the Jungle Gym, I used to ride my little bike across Aurora- or otherwise known on the maps as Highway 99, and at 6 years I was reading almost two grades about my age group.

But games. Nope. Couldn’t figure them out.

But then one day my friend Lori got this great game called ” Barrel of Monkeys ” and I loved it because all  you had to do was dip your monkey into the barrel and try to catch other monkeys and if you did it right, you ended up with a chain of monkeys and guess what

I ACED THAT BABY. I became the Barrel of Monkeys Champion of 68th Street.

So for my birthday the only thing I asked for was that game, A Barrel of Monkeys.

My Mom didn’t get why I begged like crazy for this game when she knew I wanted a new bike, a puppy and new Snoopy toys and I had been talking about them right after Christmas.

And then…oh yes there is a  ” and then ” we went to a relatives house for dinner.

The topic of what I wanted for my birthday came up and I, of course went into my pitch for A Barrel of Monkeys.

And then…and then… one of my Dad’s relatives pointed out that maybe my Mom didn’t want a ‘ Barrel of Monkeys ‘ when she already had a Screeching Monkey like me running around under foot.




This particular relative had taken to calling me a screeching monkey over the holidays. And no, there was no affection in that and yes it was a racial slam and she kept it for a little while- I’m pretty sure my Great Grandmother- who was not a person to Eff with, made her stop.

Before we left that evening, probably in a gesture of good will- or to much sherry my relative asks me, ” So, it’s a Barrel of Monkeys for our Screeching Monkey! ”

I was putting on my jacket and I said, ” I change my mind. I don’t want a Barrel of Monkeys ”

I saw my Mom grit her teeth because she had probably already bought it at that point. ” Then what DO you want?”

” A Creepy Crawley  Thing Maker.  You can make bugs. Poisonous ones. ”

My Mom looked from me to my relative and said, ” You heard her. She want’s a poisonous bug maker.”

Guess what.

I got one.

From my Great Grandmother.

I also never got called a Screeching Monkey after that too.