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| Baby Northern Saw Whet Owl |
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| New baby goslings |
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| Having fun with the new family |
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| Just a short month ago |
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| Here they are now! |
Example:
"I just entered the flash fiction contest on Janet's blog and I didn't even get a lousy t-shirt"
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| New chair! |
“Phew,” Ella said, a mild sneeze. A few cinders fell down the flue, powdering her nose. She scrubbed at it, smearing darker circles under sleepless eyes.
“Tsk.” The Prince chided, handing over a crisp white handkerchief. He liked her clean. The few times Ella had checked a mirror, she’d seen nothing that could be improved upon with scouring. Obedience came more naturally than obstinance, though, so she swept away the ash but left behind insomnia’s bruises.
“He already flew away,” she said.
“Check again,” the Prince urged, holding a lump of coal in his hand. “I’m certain this was misdelivered.”
Detective Norris fell on the ashen ice.Always appreciate a shout out to "old man Forti"!
“Dammit.” She absently pocketed a charred paper scrap pulled from her hand.
“Arson?” Officer Franks helped her.
Norris shrugged. They shuffled to the first untouched home.
“See anything last night?” she asked when old man Forti answered.
“Tipped a few by the fire. Suddenly everything’s ablaze.”
“Here?” She examined the hearth, then tsked.
Norris patted her pockets before finding the scrap. “Phew! The stolen treasury linen with colored threads–useless without a security strip. I’d no leads until your fire. Bits flew up your flue to your neighbor’s roof.”
Through an arched window, a warm light invaded the underside of the cold stone stairway. It illuminated a blind old spider’s carcass, tangled in a regale spiderweb. His fool and Kent stood guard over him, from the convenience of a nearby chimney flue.
“Tsk-tsk, don’t laugh again fool, for he was tormented by webs of his own design.”
“His nephew, past curfew, flew to his daughter.”
“He waited for her, out of 800 he had only one true.”
“Surely, he knew she had 200 ravenous babies.”
“I blame his death on them, and Cordelia’s inability to visit on gossamer wing.”
“Let’s keep a level head here. We don’t know for sure if you have it.”too realistic for me!!
“But what if, Lou? I’m scared. I should’ve stayed in. It’s just… it’s too much.” After her outing, they’d barred the doors, locked the windows. Even closed the flue. You know, in case she concocted some floo powder and escaped that way. “Time is crawling trapped in here. Remember when summers flew by?”
The phone rang. Caller ID sent adrenaline through her achy body. Lou waited as she hung up.
“Phew. It’s just the flu. Few days of rest and plenty of fluids.”
“More timpani! And what’s with the pouting? I need less attitudes, people!”
“Fewer,” said a flueglhorn.
“Precisely!” said the man with the baton, who claimed to be a great-grandnephew of Tchaikosky. “We can’t do the 1812 overture if we’re busy correcting grammar!”
“B-b-but,” stammered a trombone. “We’re the Melbourne Grammar Symphony Orchestra!”
“Irregardless,” shouted the conductor. “Now play!”
Squeaks and squeals. A baton snapped in frustration.
“Jesus, people! We’re falling apart. Altogether, now!”
A shoe flew by his ear.
“Who through that? Nevermind! We’ve got to count skillfully, or --”
BOOM!
The cannoneer shrugged. “At least he didn’t split his infinitive.”
We were breaking curfew to meet, but it was worth the risk. I crouched in the shadows of the ruined courthouse while searchlight beams flew overhead. In the distance I heard shots. Karen’s nephew was hit on the way last night. She won’t be out tonight.ooh, this is masterful.
I crept to the abandoned shack and slipped through the doorway. The others were already there, huddled close together. Flickering candlelight danced over our excited faces. Lin opened the book and, since only she could translate Chinese fluently, began, her voice quiet but strong:
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…”
Sand swirled around Chumly as the airship flew away.
“Whadja do?” A grizzled old man eyed Chumly curiously.
“Disagreed with her.”
“That’d do it.” The old man nodded. “Name’s Requin. I’m the caretaker here. An’ ‘fore you ask… I ain’t got no influence over t’Queen. C’mon…”
Chumly followed him to a shanty town of goatskin huts. “How many others are there?”
“Phew, these days? A hunnerd. Bit less, maybe.”
“Fewer!” a querulous voice cried out from a nearby hut.
“Quiet, Forti!” Requin held open a vacant hut’s flap for Chumly. “Welp, this ‘un here’s yers. Welcome to Carkoon.”
"Phew! Fewer than I expected flew in. I got the flue closed just in time. Any more and we'd be finished!"rose colored glasses by any other name.
"Tsk-tsk. Get a grip, man. The deadly ones are red," he said, eyeing the tiny winged objects landing on his arm. Tears welled in his eyes as it dawned on him. Slowly he lifted his tinted safety glasses.
The manor was on the outskirts of town. Everyone was en route. The nephew flew from Austin; the son drove from Boston. Nothing brought affluent families together as much as the last rites of a relative with a few hundred million to spare.
Wellington wasn’t ready to die. But if he must, it’d be like he did everything else: on his own terms.
His family wailed phony sympathy, but their hunger for power was very real as they jostled each other to claim his attention. No one smelled the gas. Wellington drew one last breath before he struck the match.
"And I'm saying our nephew will be a bad influence on Timothy and John!"
His wife was displeased. "Karl doesn't talk like that out of spite." She turned to her kids. "I know it's...kind of difficult to communicate with your cousin, but I think you should try. Perhaps you could find a way to understand each other."
Tim snorted. "ROFL."
"Ew, no," said John.
"I had much rather bite the dust than speak another word to these fopdoodles," vociferated Karl indignantly.I'm adopting fopdoodle forthwith.
Her voice was velvet like the night sky. She'd read aloud 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' each evening. A dark joke. Residents gathered. Few listened.I'm confused a little here. A surprise for her in the visitor's room makes me think she is seeing Gianno for the first time in a long time.
She had one photo, a nephew's.
Her afternoons were unsettled; fragments of lyrical phrases left behind as she darted around. I wasn't fluent in Italian but understood enough to know how misunderstood she's been; to recognise those deep scars of othering a life of isolation brings.
Today, a surprise for her in the visitors' room:
"Gianno!" He recognised the voice from his childhood, the aunt's he'd only ever heard from a room next door.
Oooh… what *is* this place?
Ssh! It is a library. There are books.
Err… and green lady with wings? And fireplace? With real fire?
Tsk! It is a *badly run* library. They cannot keep books safe when—
Um. You probably shouldn’t have said—
AAAAAGHHH!
Eeeek… help! Miss, my friend, she flew up the flue. I mean… that chimney, she vanished, there were purple sparks…
Heh. It’s just a spell that expels sticklers someplace sticky. She’s in the glue aisle at the hobby store. Unharmed.
Phew… hmmm… so this library is magical?
Ah. With an open mind, they all are.
June 15, 2025I have a feeling I'm missing something about this one.
Dear Grandma Jones,
Thank u for my Huhwhyee trip. I flue over Twosday. I will stay fewer than fourteen days. Maybe to weeks. Uncle Jeffs nephew had the flew so he cant come with me. Sux for him. LOL.
I will go to the beech alot and may be learn to serf. OH! I saw see turtles. Their huge, but the natesure peeple wont let you near them. Hoola dancers preformed at a loo-Ow tonight. Cant wate.
Its kinda skary being a grown up now, but Mike Rows skewl looks cool.
Luv,
You’re grandaughter Brittany Ella (Jones)
The True Story of A Reluctant Chimney Sweep, Who Tumbled Into The Hearth, And Was Subsequently Mistaken For A RavenWonderful use of a title!
There once was a bird from Nantucket,
Who flew down the flue in a bucket.
He said. “Phew, tsk this task,
There are few that dare ask,
Gulls don’t sweep a chimney, we duck it.”
A red panda is missing from her habitat at the Zoo. She is not a threat to the public. If anyone near the Zoo sees a small red mammal with a long, fluffy striped tail, please contact the Columbus Zoo immediately at Security Dispatch: 614-582-1844. bit.ly/2CUMOd5
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| Jeff! |
This is Jeff.
Jeff is not my cat.
This has not stopped Jeff from:
strolling into my house
jumping into my car
napping on my deck chairs
making himself at home in my planter boxes
sassing the dog in the dog's backyard
My next-door neighbors came home and found Jeff sleeping on their bed, which surprised them, as Jeff isn't their cat, either.
Last year, when my house was being remodeled, one of the carpenters told me everyone loved my cat. This confused me because my indoor-only cat spent her days safely locked up upstairs, far away from the construction zone. It turned out Jeff waltzed inside to inspect the remodel and befriended everyone.
I keep meaning to tell Jeff's official family that we should attach a camera to him to see everywhere he goes.
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| Jeff and Waylon |
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| Jeff |
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| Jeff and Waylon |
Nov 30thThis was a reader favorite!
A Kalispell resident reported a "shady-looking guy" with a large dog was standing in her neighbor's yard and staring at her house. Upon investigation, police discovered the interlopers were in fact a life-size inflatable Santa and Rudolph. When pressed as to why she had not mentioned the man and his animal companion were glowing brightly, the resident said she "didn't want to alarm anyone".
Wife arrested for stabbing husband blames his “repeated terror”.I don't want to encourage Mr. Forti.
It started with a pencil. He found another one. Called it his “Number Two Number Two”. Later, her ballet outfit was too tight, cut off feeling in her legs. So he threw it out. Her second favorite outfit was even tighter. So he got rid of her “Number Number Two Tutu”, too.
Officers say the final straw came this afternoon when the husband, exiting the bathroom, announced that he had just taken his second favorite follow up defecation. Or, as he put it, his “Number Two Number Two Number Two.”
A Eureka man called 911 to report a missing house. He’d come home from the pub to find his house gone and another in its place.
Charges against a local school bus driver for violating a restraining order were dropped Wednesday. Agnes Bleaker of Pine Street reported the crime, Monday, when she returned home from work.
“It's my g— d— ex, Jerome,” she told 911. “He dresses like Big Foot whenever he's horny. I told him enough already.”
School officials immediately helped police locate the driver who was arrested.
Officers responding to the scene noted the crime was still in progress and the actual perpetrator was a black bear.
The children on the bus were located and will be sent home. They appeared unharmed.
A Flathead coffee shop has filed a missing bear report with police after discovering its mascot missing Tuesday morning. The animal was absent when employees arrived, and a 50-lb bag of Liberica beans was found torn open and half empty, police said.
The bear is described as black, 5'8” tall (when upright), and 317 lbs. The public is urged to notify police if the bear is spotted; although not considered armed, he is likely to be quite jittery. He can be lured with salmon or a macchiato, and answers to the name of the shop, Brew Inn.
While the city of Dumerville reels at the theft of the World’s Largest Bale of Hay, a new lead has emerged. Local police report that at 22:48 yesterday, a suspect was apprehended for vandalism of dictionaries at the Dumerville Library. Emma Lowett Bulb (56) later confessed to stealing the city’s prized roadside attraction with the intention of “springing a friend,” a Mr. Moran of St. Albinus County, recently arraigned. The attraction has not been recovered, but a police spokesperson confirmed that search parties are active. Ms. Bulb is being held pending bale.You go stand over there with Mr. Forti, my nemesis.
12:30am Terrified lady reported home invasion. Suspect entered through second floor bedroom window. 100 Grove Lane.
1:02am Officer called for backup. Two aggressive, possibly rabid, individuals. One appeared to be wearing a police uniform. Attacked during routine patrol. 100 Grove Lane.
1:34am Officer called for backup. Three aggressive, possibly rabid, individuals. Two appeared to be wearing police uniforms. Attacked during routine patrol. 100 Grove Lane.
2:10am Officer called for backup. Four aggressive, possibly rabid, individuals. Three appeared to be wearing police uniforms. Attacked during routine patrol. 100 Grove Lane.
3:00am Fire at 100 Grove Lane. Arson suspected. Kalispell priest arrested.
A man was found dead this morning in his Kalispell home. Several prominent members of the community who attended a dinner party at the man’s home the previous evening are being treated as persons of interest. While the exact cause of death is as of yet unknown, a number of suspicious objects were found in the vicinity of the body, among them a candlestick, a rope, and a lead pipe. The investigation is ongoing.Yes, for this one I had a CLUE!
A Kalispell man was arrested for terrorizing the downtown area in an oversized ant costume. He claimed to be following all local COVID regulations by "social insecting, wearing a mask, and maintaining six feet."I'm still laughing at this one.
A woman called 911 to say her sister needed to report a missing person. When asked who was missing the woman explained it was herself. She confirmed she had taken a number of wrong turns on the drive to her sister's which meant her sister wouldn't have clue where she was.How is it you and AJ Blythe know this much about me?
2:24 pm: A birthday cake was reported missing. The baker claimed that a neighbor’s goat had butted its way into the party right before the disappearance because it was “jealous of my two-year-old granddaughter.” The toddler, who appeared inconsolable, was apparently fine after a nap. The goat is still on the lam.I'd be wailing like a banshee if my cake was stolen by a scofflaw goat!
Fri, Aug 15, 1057
By Kenneth MacDuff
Police were called to 9 Fife Street by a man who had “lost all his pretty chickens and their dam at one fell swoop.” He wanted to invite the cops to a chicken dinner.
Wed, Nov 1, 1508
By Desdemona Moor
The substance that neighbours reported as “foul charms or minerals that weakens motion” turned out to be calcium tablets.
Thurs, April 23, 1607
By Anne Hathaway
A woman called to ask if her husband could be cited for getting history wrong. He couldn’t. He had a poetic license.
Local noted numismatist Penelope "Penny" Reed died yesterday in the parlor of her Roosevelt Avenue home.You too can join Mr. Forti in the corner.
Police suspect foul play to be involved, as Ms. Reed’s body was discovered with 96 Morgan Dollars crammed into her mouth. No other weapons were found, as Ms. Reed was widely known to have an abnormal fear of hammers, baseball bats, tubas, and other blunt instruments.
According to Police Chief Lincoln Nichols, "Clearly the killer understood the old adage. If you can't beat 'em, coin 'em."
Services will be held at the Washington and Jefferson Funeral Home.
I’m guessing this story didn’t run in the Flathead Beacon Police Blotter. With items like, “The golfer on the sixth green at a local course turned out to be a black bear,” it’s one of my favorite newsfeed subscriptions.prompted me to think it would be fun to have a flash fiction contest!
I returned to Paris last month while France was still under quarantine. From the beginning, it felt like I had stepped into a post-apocalyptic world.
Under normal circumstances, every seat on the plane would've been taken, but these are not normal times. I had the entire row to myself and there was no trouble finding overhead space for my carry on.
At the airport, Charles de Gaulle, there are trains on the lower level that take passengers into the center of the city. Not one person was to be found.
Patrick with my suitcases in one of the almost empty halls. Only the Vigipirates were there to check that 'everyone' was wearing a mask.
In the evening Patrick and I drove around Paris, a warm summer evening normally bustling with life – there was none. We passed the Eiffel Tower lit with no one to admire her but myself.
We drove toward the Louvre; the Seine was as quiet as the boulevards. No Bateaux-Mouches filled with tourists, no flashing lights from cameras or cellphones capturing a moment in time. At the Pont des Arts, I watched a young couple admiring the view of the Île de la Cité while another couple strolled toward the Left Bank. Four people on the walking bridge where crowds of people would normally be.The cafés were dark, the quays and the boulevards empty. Seeing Paris this way was more than a shock, this was Paris after all. It was almost summertime and the Coronavirus had done what sub-zero temperatures and snow covered grounds in the midst of winter could never do – stop Parisians from going to the theater, the cinéma, strolling the streets, or meeting friends in cafés and restaurants.We arrived at the Place de la Concorde. Never had I seen this place empty of cars and people, but there wasn't a single car or person in sight. I had the strangest feeling I had stepped into the Twilight Zone. On the Champs-Élysées, two people on electric foot scooters made their way down the large avenue with only a small amount of traffic as we headed toward the Arc de Triomphe. I told Patrick, let's go home. I had seen enough for one day.
Thank goodness Paris has slowly opened up once again and life has come back to the city. Every person on the bus had a mask on. Seating is staggered unless you're with someone.
This was the view outside from the back of the bus
It's a different story near the Pompidou Center and other touristy spots. Many people wear a mask, many don't.
But, at least, life has returned to Paris. (Saint-Eustache church near Les Halles.)
Monday morning, June 22nd.
I woke that morning, thinking maybe there's a bear outside.
I looked out my window and ... nothing.
A few minutes later, the same thought.
This time, when I looked out my window there was a bear. IN THE TREE.
I spent almost an hour watching the bear, who proceeded to climb down and then lumber around the yard looking for tasty treats. Apparently my landlord had left out one tiny dish from a Father's Day cookout.
I named the bear Bruno. I've since had two more encounters with her/him. Once while out on a mindfulness walk and the other driving home. I will never get tired of seeing a bear in the wild!
WEST GLACIER- A Kalispell woman in her thirties was running on Huckleberry Lookout Trail when she collided what is believed to be a young grizzly bear.A release from the Glacier National Park says the encounter happened on the morning of Saturday, July 11 about four miles down Huckleberry Lookout Trail and was reported to dispatch around 9:00 am.The woman was running with two other people and was the lead runner when she and the bear collided.Both the woman and the bear tumbled together off the trail,
and after they were separated, the bear ran off.Rangers who checked the scene determined it was a surprise encounter with no further issues, and there are no other reports of the bear or additional encounters on the trail.The trail has been posted by rangers for bear frequenting, but the trail is not closedThe woman sustained minor, non-life-threatening, injuries to her head and arm and was able to walk back down the trail with friends and meet rangers as they arrived at the trail head.She was able to get herself to the Kalispell Regional Medical Center for further treatment and evaluation.
Glacier National Park is reminding visitors that the park is home to black bears and grizzly bears, and that trail running in grizzly habitat is dangerous because runners traveling quickly and quietly through bear habitat have a higher risk of surprising grizzly bears at close range.Trail running is discouraged by the park to protect the public and bears.Those hiking in the park are encouraged to hike in groups, make noise when hiking and to have bear speak accessible and know how to use it.
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| Intern Ty |
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| Bad Advice by John McIntyre |
Remember the monarch?
He/she emerged this morning. It was so cool to watch! I'm so excited because it's the only monarch I've seen this year. But it was a successful rearing from the caterpillar I sent you last week until now. I'll do the release this evening once it's completely furled and the wings are dry.
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| Casey! |
This is Casey, who is no longer with us, but a favorite memory is her frequently joining my wife in reading at the kitchen table. She had a preference for mysteries, as I recall.--Ray Rhamey
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| Bentley! |
This is Bentley. He is a neighbor’s cat. He’s very dapper in his bow tie. His parents are the brother and sister-in-law of the people from which we recently purchased our house. Bentley stares in our front screen door, waiting for the previous owners, Uncle Walt and Aunt Liz to give him treats. When we don’t let Bentley in the front door, he tries the back slider. My wife is not a fan of pets, but I am. I look forward to my new nephew visiting his Uncle Kregger
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| Precious! |
For those of you following along at home, my Foster kitty Precious was adopted last week. She was with me for 4 1/2 months - way longer than the typical foster situation, due to the pandemic making the usual adoption events impossible, and enough time for her to capture my heart.
Every evening after we both had dinner, I’d settle on the sofa and dive into my Netflix list. Precious would join me, rubbing on me and demanding petting. If I stopped too soon, she’d tap my arm. Then she’d collapse against me and purr herself to sleep.
I dang near became a Foster Failure, but I’m thrilled that we found her Forever Home. I kissed her head and wished her a long, happy, healthy life with her new family. Now I’m ready for the next homeless kitty that needs me.--Claudie Wilson
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| Mare-Bear! |
This is Marilyn!a.k.a. Mare-Bear. She is probably about 13 or 14 years old and is our newest clinic cat. As per our usual, when our former clinic cat, Mia, passed, even though we were all heartbroken--it was only a matter of days before the Universe presented us with another ancient feline that no one seemed to want anymore.Well, guess what? We wanted her. And she has fit right in. Ever since day 1, in a very un-cat-like manner, she waddles around, completely unafraid of her new surroundings and loud noises and strangers scooping her up and flipping her upside down to give her a belly rub. She was so unconcerned (esp. about the noises) that at first we thought she might be deaf. But no, that's apparently just Marilyn.This picture is flattering (she likes to pose), but she's actually as round as a basketball and unfortunately has extremely arthritis knees. But she's so happy. She is one of the most content cats I've ever met. Every morning she shuffles around to get the most pets per person. I am proud to say, I'm one of her favorites. We give her therapy laser sessions for the knees and of course, all the pets possible.Hope you are hangin' in there and maybe not descending into madness like I am. These times, sheesh!
I folded the empty bags and put them away.Michael Seese
"...Orchid cactus, Hon, I said when you find an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. Not a--" I flapped my hand at the prickly thing on the counter. "--I don't even know what to do with this."
"Eat it? It was in with the lemons."
"You're braver than me. Doesn't even look like food."
"Excuse me?" The prickly thing unrolled, waved a very dingy mob-cap, and took a bottle of Rit dye from her apron pocket. "May I borrow your washing machine?"
The off-gray three-piece pinstripe, welded to his eternally hollow core, glummed through the door.Leah Ning
"BUZZ!" blared the beleaguered buzzer.
"RED!" flashed the fidgety light.
"Negative!" called out the monitor, counting the days left until infinity. "Next."
Practiced smile plastered to her vacated visage, the pastel pantsuit waved involuntarily to imaginary followers in corporeal form as she lilted through the scanner.
"Another negative!"
"Holy cow, that's a lot of empties. I don't get it. Where are their souls?" asked the minion in red.
"My bad. And that's the last time I make a bulk deal with the Congress," muttered Satan.
When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. You figure the plant might make you less lonely.
You blink. The cactus on your nightstand has bloomed and its flower is pink. You can’t remember if you like pink.
You blink. The flower is shriveled, the cactus an unhealthy yellow.
You blink. You’re lonely and can’t remember why.
The heap of rotting plants in your garage pricks your memory like cactus spines.
When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. You figure the plant might make you less lonely.
"Is it my turn to do the laundry, or--"
"DIE!" A shoe hits the faded linoleum.
"What?"
"DIEDIEDIE!!" More splats.
"I think you got it."
"Did you see the size of that thing?!"
I eye the squashed mess. "One might argue it's larger now."
"GAH! It'll haunt my dreams, with all the others. We've gotta move."
"Right. The laundry, is it--"
"YES. But I'll take this turn, the next FIVE, if you do cleanup here."
I fake a shudder, think of my secret stash of roaches, my even more secret Laundromat-phobia, and sigh dramatically. "If you insist."
Anonymous tipoff. We follow it, watch the schoolkids from our unmarked car.Unknown
"Holy cow, that's a lot of Empties," Linda whispers.
She's right. They stare at nothing. Normal kids avoid them.
Night. We return, investigate. Nothing - until the books. Paper shouldn't glow red in the dark.
Linda pokes one. "What are they?"
The light clicks on. We freeze.
Man's in the doorway: frayed cardigan, worrying grin. "People say books take your mind new places. It's no metaphor now."
"That's diabolic!" But... Hogwarts. "Can I--"
Linda's quicker. Pages flash. Her soul vanishes.
He sighs. "They only go to Michigan."
“I’m just not sure I’m ready, honey.” I hated having these discussions while we ran.
“Look, when you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. Period.”
“Ok.” I raised my hands in defeat. “All I’m saying is we don’t know how to take care of it. Or how big it will grow.”
“Well,” she grunted as she hurdled a rock, “I bet we can figure it out.”
“And you are certain it’s an orchid cactus?” A tree branch forced me to duck.
“Pretty sure. Why?”
I glanced back. “It’s gaining on us.”
“Electromagnetic pulse. Like in The Matrix. Fries all electronics. Power grid, internet, communications. Everything.” He patted the crate. “And this baby’s a doozy.”
“What’s the target?”
“Jakarta.” He pointed to the map. “This circle here? That’s the effective zone. Everyone there goes dark.”
“Holy cow. That’s a lot of EMP.”
“Ties the record from the Seattle incident in ’23. Thought about topping it, but I respect the classics.”
“True dat. When’s it going off?”
“9am tomorrow. Right on the anniversary.”
“But today’s the 8th.”
“What?”
“We’re flying west. We passed the international date line. It’s 8:59am right now.”
“Oh sh-zzzzzzztttttt……………………”
When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. "If it dies," the directions state, "so will YOU!"
Your superstitious nature warps your senses. Fearing for your life, you strictly adhere to the instructions:
"Five drops of purified water at three second intervals twice daily as the sun rises and sets."
You forgo vacations and social engagements to preserve your life.
But one day you forget, landing you--not surprisingly--in the hospital! Desperate, you call your roommate.
"Marjorie, water my orchid and hurry!"
"You're kidding," she responds. "You know that thing's plastic, right?"
Week 1: You give the kids homework and take them on walks. You reorganize your closets.
Week 3: The kids watch TV, argue and fight. You find a website that delivers wine to your door in under an hour.
Week 9: The kids painted the dog. You’re not sure when. You spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store. You bring it home and call it George.
Week 20: The news says it’s safe, but George doesn’t believe them. He’s usually right about such things. You still think about the kids, on the odd occasion when you have no wine.
when you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home.—Luralee
"Do the laundry or die!" —french sojourn3. Post the entry in the comment column of THIS blog post.
holy cow, that's a lot of empties. —nightmusic
