Pooping with Brian

I got my daughter a Dalmatian for her thirteenth birthday.  I do believe that was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  For about a day and a half, Annie was sweet.  As soon as she got her bearings,she became a hyperactive, maniacal buzz saw, plundering and eviscerating everything in her path from shoes to the rag top on my husband’s MG, but that’s a story for another post.

At eighteen months, Annie’s hormones kicked in.  Overnight, she was transformed into a nasty-tempered, sullen,farting, bitch, such a blessed relief.  One day she was sitting between Bud and Mother farting up a storm.  Bud and Mother each kept looking accusingly at the other, thinking surely they would eventually do the decent thing and excuse themselves.

Deciding to take her show on the road one morning, Annie decided the best thing for her to do was to tunnel under our neighbor’s back fence to pay him a call.  Brian wasn’t in the yard, so she trotted into the house looking for him.  He was deep in thought, sitting on the toilet, enjoying some quality time.  Inspired by his wise example, Annie squatted and produced a fine example of her own.  Though I didn’t see the actual event, I did get to hear about it in great detail.

The Heartbreak of Dementia

Reblogged from Before Sundown

C.E.Robinson's avatarBefore Sundown

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by C.E.Robinson

This small woman grips the worn strap of a large black purse tucked at her side, and leans forward in the rocking chair.

Her gnarled fingers trace tiny rose petals in her skirt as if to find a path back to her life; the aging face of her daughter, her husband’s death, her 90th birthday party, her flower shop.

She sits in the same spot every day, near the entrance door, waiting for husband and daughter to take her home. The daily vigil stops when I call her name,

Ida Mae, let’s go back to your room and look at the photos of John and Olivia, and one we took last week with all the nursing staff at your ninetieth birthday party.

I visit often, hold her hand and tell her “back when I was a little girl” stories, she told me over the years. Triggering a…

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Vote For Your Winner of the Nature Chills Challenge #2

Reblog from A Momma’s View. Vote for your favorite!

amommasview's avatarA Momma's View

Everything comes to an end at one point and so does my Nature Chills Challenge #2. Thank you all so much for sharing your great stories with me here. In my eyes you all are winners. As I received 11 posts for this challenge I decided to mention all of them here for you to pick the winner.

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Bloggers Unite for a Better World: 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion

Reblogged from Beyond the Flow.

Rowena's avatarBeyond the Flow

1000 Voices for Compassion 1000 Voices for Compassion

“The more I learn about people, the more I like my dog.”

― Mark Twain

In response to recent terrorist atrocities around the world, a call has gone out for bloggers to unite behind an inspirational campaign to highlight compassion around the world. On the Friday 20th February, 2014, bloggers are asked to write a post on their blog about compassion and be a part of the 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion.

This campaign was launched by Yvonne Spence who suggested the idea to a Facebook group she belongs to and it went from there.

As a writer, I have always hoped that the pen is mightier than the sword and in more modern times, the bullet. Through participating in this campaign, I hope to be part of the change which leads the pen and indeed the cartoonist’s pencil, to victory!!

Naturally, I would love…

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The Sad Saga of the Beakless, Tailless, Gizzard-bobbing, One-leg Hopping chicken

Repost of an earlier post.

Being a farm kid is not for sissies and cowards. The dark side of the chicken experience is slaughtering, plucking, cleaning, and preparing chickens for the pot.  I watched as Mother transformed into a slobbering beast as she towered over the caged chickens, snagging her victim by the leg with a twisted coat-hanger, ringing its neck and releasing it for its last run.  We crowded by, horribly thrilled by what we knew was coming.  It was scarier than ”The Night of the Living Dead”,  as the chicken flapping its wings, Continue reading