when it’s not that being told what to do that bothers you
what bothers you is being told how to get there
how you should look, the clothes you should wear, the expression on your face modified for mass consumption.
There are some days when I just want to keep moving
and the only sound I want to hear
is the wind in my ears
until I reach that City In The Sky
where it rains when it wants to rain and it snows when it can and none of the houses look the same and the lawns are a little overgrown and dogs bark and cats chase birds and Werewolves dance with Zombies in wild abandon in the streets at sunrise and your Pizza Delivery is always on time.
I hate it- HATE to admit I may ( from time to time ) suffer from Writer’s Block.
I’d rather tell you how much I weigh, or what it was like to have flowers delivered to my house for Valentine’s Day and when I read the card found out that they were delivered to the wrong house…of course that was after I took pictures of them and posted them on line.
So yeah, admitting that I upon occasion can’t whip up a story or poem is an ego cruncher for me.
This year I had a built in excuse for not being ‘creative’ how could I top the horror show that is life in the USA right now?
A Plague, a Sociopath as President, I moved to a town where you can’t get Gelato and the cultural center is a Walmart.
My Muse sits in a tree watching Murder Hornets build a hive and won’t share the details with me.
But then I remember this quote:
Maybe I need to fess up and say, sure I suffer from Writer’s Block like everybody else and when I do all I have to do is go out there and look for those Murder Hornets, do more then give the Hairy Eyeball to that jerk who sits across from me on the train and takes his mask off while he reads his bible, then prays- coughing and snorting the entire time because as he’s explained to me ” It’s a sin to hide from God . “
Boys don’t fart more then girls- which is bull because I raised three boys and they are Fart factories. I don’t care what science or Google say. It’s also a fact that girl farts smell like posies. I can say that because when girls fart we say so and given that guys seem to like Farts so much they agree. Also, they seem to enjoy it when we toot them out and pretty much give you a standing ovation-
Especially if it’s loud.
People write poems about Farts- but they stink. So I’m not posting them here.
Now here is a song that comes as close to explaining gas in the human body- actually it’s about bacteria but I love this song so I’m going to post it.
Wouldn’t want to hold it- doing that kind of thing can really hurt you.
is in front of a used bookstore called ” Mabel’s “
Mabel’s has a cat that likes to lounge in the window on top of a fuzzy, dusty set of Encyclopedia Britannica’s that smells like catnip and cat pee and you get a nose full of it when you open the door.
Mabel’s customers are too polite to point this out.
Because Maybel’s customers are cat people.
Maybel’s bookshelves are packed with books about cooking and romance and how to travel to France on a shoestring budget. There are even books about how to train dogs and collect butterflies and there are books about poetry- how to write it, how to read it and how to understand it too.
Those books smell like catnip and cat pee too, but Mabel’s customers ignore it because Mabel’s customers are cat people so when the occasional cat ( sometimes it’s a black cat, there’s a few Tabby’s and couple of Siamese cats too ) strolls along the top of the shelf and wants to jump down, Mabel’s customers will politely step aside and let them pass because
Mabel’s customers are cat people.
After years and years of standing in front of Mabel’s and getting a noseful of cat pee and catnip and sometimes cat fur too, I decided to go into Mabel’s and shop around.
Because I like books.
I strolled around shelves of books about fairy tales and books about Dungeons and Dragons and books with covers where the Vampires strapped in corsets and there is even a few spinner racks full of bookmarks and another with bookplates jammed into corners where the light switches are, which must make it a chore to switch the lights off and on- on the other hand I can’t seem to remember a time when the lights were ever off at Mabel’s.
I heard a meow and I looked up and then I heard another meow and I looked behind me.
A chubby little Tabby was sitting on a table next to a chair where Mabel’s customers sometimes sat and thumbed through a volume or too that smelled like cat pee and sometimes catnip.
” Hello Mabel’s Cat. ” I said stepping back because, to be honest I’m not a cat person. I think I might be allergic because my nose always tingles when I’m around them and my eyes water a little bit too.
Mabel’s cat jumped off of the table and when it hit the floor, it sent up a poof of cat fur from the floor and when it’s paws where firmly grounded it streatched up and up and in it’s place was a small chubby man with salt and pepper hair.
” You’re not a cat person I see. ” he said.
I crouched and fell gently forwards and when my front paws touched the dusty floorboards I shook my head from side to side, sneezed a little and said, ” Not even a little around the edges.”
I may have barked that and I may have barked it a little to loud but Mabel’s customers would not have pointed that out because even though the customers at Mabel’s are cat people, they’re very polite.
Because it was one where I followed the advice all writers hear, ” Write what you know.
So I wrote about being a Mom.
More or less.
” I think there is a monster in my closet “
her daughter, Midge said for the one billionth time.
” No there isn’t. ” she told her daughtere- otherwise known as the kid who never got into bed when she was supposed to and could always find a way to avoid it.
” Mommy, I’m not fibbing. I think there is a monster in my closet. I think it has big sharp teeth and horns and knives for fingers.”
Midge pulled her fluffy pink comforter up to her chin and five of the twenty or so plush kittens she slept with tumbled to the floor.
” Mommy! Save my babies!”
Brenda leaned over and started to pitch Midge’s babies back up onto the bed. Her hair, which needed washing fell into her face and she could see her yellow sweatshirt had popcorn kernels stuck to it.
She couldn’t remember when she ate popcorn last.
” Mommy. “
” No Midge. No I am not going to check your closet for monsters.”
” Why not? Don’t you love me?”
” No. I mean yes. Of course I love you. But I’ve been checking your closet for Monsters every night since you were three years old and you’re seven now. Midge I’m tired of looking into your closet to check for monsters.”
Midge sniffed. ” It’s not like there are a million monsters. There’s only one, I think. Please. Please check.”
” Look. Just give me a break. I’ll tell you what. I’ll watch your babies and you check the closet for the Monster.”
Midge’s eyes went from little pools of blue light to gigantic saucer sized orbs. ” What if it gets me?”
” It’s never gotten me. Go ahead. I’ll wait and you be a big brave girl and check.”
Midge slid her comforter down and slid out of her white and yellow canopy bed.
She padded past her tea set and dollhouses and her shelves lined with dolls and books about fairies and princesses.
When she got to her closet door she reached for the knob and she turned to her Mother. ” If the Monster gets me, you’ll be sorry.”
” I’m sure you will be safe. Go on.”
Midge turned the knob and pulled the door open and then a gust of warm air sent her flying forwards and she landed with a soft thud.
The door slammed shut.
” Mommy! Mommy help! The monster got me, the monster got me!”
Brenda put her back against the closet door and slid to the floor. ” Actually Midge, ” said Mommy as she pushed a lock of hair behind one of her horns freshly sprouted horns with the shiny knife at the end of her finger that she hardly ever popped out anymore just for the Hell of it because she was too busy driving her daughter to dance lessons nowdays” The monster doesn’t want you! “
What if I gave you the skinny on some pictures I took, stripped away the distractions ( like color ) and told you a little story about each one?
I’d be glad to.
Fox Lake, Wisconsin– I thought this would make a great opening shot for a horror movie. Why? Because that’s how my mind works. That’s why.
Here’s the skinny. Someone died next to the tracks and when I took the picture I had no idea that had happened. I just saw a bunch of police cars and was going to send the picture to my friends who used to scam free parking down here and freak them out into thinking they were all going to get towed.
LOL on me I guess.
Anubis at the King Street Station in Seattle. He was there for the King Tut exhibit a few years ago. Anubis is gone and in his place is something called a ” sanitation station ” for the homeless people so they can have a place to clean up a bit and try to avoid spreading the coronavirus among their community.
I thought you’d rather see the picture of Anubis instead of one of a well maintained port-a-potty and a hand washing station. If not, well. Ugh on you.