Summer is vacation time. This item is a warning for Northerners visiting the southeastern states…
Among America’s many enemies, none is more disastrous than Pueraria Lobata, commonly known as KUDZU.
Residents of the southeastern United States, where it grows prolifically, must prepare for sporadic, unpredictable energy blackouts not caused by (more…)
In 2006 I dared submit three limericks to the limerick contest sponsored by the Ligonier Valley Writers. They sponsor this contest each year for their Hot Dog Fest, a winter picnic, where they honor a writer with an award. Below are my three entries (which didn’t win anything, but nonetheless were written).
No ant. No sunburn. No log.
No water, way down (more…)
Repeatedly, I’m asked why the wooden cat sitting on my windowsill is painted so silly, having a gray and orange striped tail attached to its all-white body. A few years ago my artistic niece Debbie painted the craft item for me, using our cat as a model.
Shenan (short for Shenandoah) joined our family in August, 1985. Her creation-day tale explains the incongruousness of her body and tail. You see, Shenan began on the kitten-makin’ assembly production line. She was passin’ through the snow-white line, doing quite well, I might add. Her yellow eyes and faint swipes of orange color on her forehead and side separated her from being confused with albinism. Kitten-making factories use many steps, but we all know that the very final step in the process is the tail-attachment. (to continue reading this story click on The Cat With the Calico Tail )To read another cat story click on LOSS AND LOVE
“Wh…where am I?”
Water dripped off Jym Anklet as he rubbed his heel with his toes, while noticing the sterile white room and feeling the cold surface of the emergency-room drawer.
“Whoa, that’s quite a bruise. Looks like a belt buckle hit you pretty hard,” said Holey Wellworn.
“Belt buckle?”
“Yes, it left quite an impression on your heel.”
As Holey’s comforting touch eased Jym’s pain he realized he lay crumpled in a chilly, scummy water puddle. His last recollection was swishing luxuriously in a warm, soapy clothes washer.
Now he was…where?…was this the post-life secret?
(to continue this story click on SOCKATORY ) To read a related story click on Darning Socks
We regretfully report the demise of Blue Buoy, age unknown, sometime last spring or early summer. Following Blue Buoy’s capture near the Isles of Shoals in September, 2003, he spent a short time at a lobster shack in New Castle, NH. From there he took up residence at the Seacoast Science Center in Rye, NH, where visitors, including many school children on field trips, admired his robin’s egg blue color.Blue Buoy leaves behind cousins Whitey, Baloo Bell and his aged uncle, Toughage.
His legacy is not only in the hearts (more…)
I found the writing below in my files. I once submitted it to a newspaper’s “bad writing contest.” As life goes, the piece was rejected. Perhaps I’m not the best, but it’s evidence I’m also not the worst!
To read an article on bad writing contests posted on the Beanery Online Literary Magazine, click on BAD WRITING CONTESTS
The notes blatted skyward as the sun rose over the Canada geese, feathered rumps mooning the day, (more…)
