Feisty Repartee

For Sam

Wish you were here!

Holy Crap!

Well, hell.

I just had the absolute crap scared out me.

A few weeks ago I reported there is a "pet" deer one of the neighbors has adopted.

A little while ago, the girls were in the back yard when the deer walked up to them. Of course, I was inside and not paying attention (bad mother that I am).

Sweet One let Wee One pet the doe, something they have been warned not to do; however, kids will be kids.

All was well and fine until the damn thing reared up and kicked my four-year-old in the face. She took a hoof to the inner part of her left eye between the brow and the bridge of her nose. One-half of an inch to the right and it could have taken her eye out.

Jesus Christ!

There's a scratch from her eye brow to her inner eye. The whole eye is swollen, but vision is intact. She'll probably have a shiner there tomorrow. Thank God it was not any worse.

My nerves are freakin' shot.

I think she is fine.

As we were getting her cleaned up and calmed down, between "ouchie...ouchie...OUCHIE!" she wanted to know if I was going to shoot that "stupid deer."

Make no mistake, I wish I could.

SATURDAY UPDATE: Wee One has a shiner and a scratch, but appears no worse for wear. She did tell me she's hungry for venison. As a matter of fact, so am I!

Many thanks for the words of concern and well wishes. They are very much appreciated.

WitNit's Oriental Noir

The mind that is Mark has created an Oriental Noir as this week's 25 Word Challenge:

Shanghai. Avant-gard architecture suggesting The Jetsons meet Godzilla. Fake Rolexes, cheap thrills, easy women. Her name exuded softly from her red lips--Li Ling.

Go over and help with this week's story. I have a feeling it will be really good.

ALSO, while we are talking about fiction, Lady Silk has written a lovely piece at her new site, Inkblot.

Carnival of the Recipes!!

This week we have an amazing array of delightful and delectable dishes. Lord knows I've gained several pounds just reading through these.

Many thanks to the mastermind behind this successful endeavor, Beth Donovan.

BEVERAGES:

Martin over at EGO has a serious licorice lover's drink to share: Licorice Candy Shot. Hey, I'll try anything once! However, before you start knocking those back, he has a few words about Hilary and gaming.

SALADS and APPETIZERS:

Sole anyone? The attractive and smart Mensa Barbie has submitted a delectable recipe for Poissons d'Rosemary. She is also interested in Chinese Women Astronauts.

There are hot wings, there are buffalo wings, and now there are the world's greatest wings, korean style care of Bothenook of Geezer's Corner. Hmm, I wonder if his post on submarine officer in deep kimchee is also food related...

From Korean hot wings to chicken wings by Jeff of Trub. The sediment of life. Jeff tells the tale of a froggy casualty. I'm just glad he did not submit that frog-leg recipe... Sorry, Jeff, I couldn't resist.

Morning Coffee and Afternoon Tea has an interesting recipe with lovely photos of Tea Eggs. Not only does this blogger have a taste for the gourmet, she has an artistic eye with Watercolor Coffee.

Ummmm, can you say "Crab Cakes and Lemon Dill Sauce?" WillyShake of Unconsidered Trifles certainly can. He can also say: "Bigfoot."

SAUCES:

There is nothing in this world like great pesto. Practigal shares her mouth-watering version. A gifted woman, she also tells us about embracing her inner rocker!

According to Jordana of Curmudgeonry, attack of the killer tomatoes results in a Killer Spaghetti Sauce! She also asks the question I've always wanted to know: Are minivans emasculating?

The Technogypsy known as Kevin offers some outstanding sauces for grilling and pasta. I can't wait to try these out! While you are over there, perhaps you can help Kevin with a question he has about underwear...

In a galaxy far, far away they had light sabers and Obi Wan sauce, at least a sweet and spicy tomato-based sauce Brian B of Memento Moron uses to slather on the wonderful meats he cooks in his very own R2D2 smoker. He also mentions a certain beer that sounds very interesting.

ENTRÉES:

There are sandwiches and then there are sandwiches. Booklore shows us (with picture) what happens when a sandwich evolves into the SAMMICH. Now THAT's a meal! If you have not visited Booklore, there are many, many, great book reviews.

A Weight Lifted has the right idea with this Garganelli with Prosciutto and Arugula: dine al fresco. I'm delighted to have found this blog because there's a lot to be said about Health at Every Size.

No higher praise from a four-year-old than Splendiferous. That is exactly what Sun Comprehending Glass' Taleena's child said when she prepared her Chicken Burritos! In addition to a great cook, Taleena is also a deep thinker. Be sure to read her Education and Big Government.

Kevin of Seriously Good gives us a recipe for Chicken Picata with a picture that looks, well, seriously good. He also gives us 50 ways to love our food!

David of Third World Country submits Chill out with Chicken Chili which is actually a "White" chicken chili. It looks fabulous. He also has some interesting thoughts on Judge Roberts' nomination.

The lovely ALa of Blonde Sagacity has two gorgeous pictures posted, one of her and one of her Spinach-Pimento Chicken. With her ACLU post, it is very clear she's been graced with smarts, as well as looks.

Pesto and sauce on fresh pizza dough, The Head Girl of The Common Room puts it all together for a pizza to knock your socks off (at least it did mine!). In addition to great food, The Head Girl also has some good book recommendations.

gEye of The Glittering Eye has shared his grandfather's Coney Island Spaghetti! Oh, my, it looks fabulous. While you are over there, be sure to check out an interesting post he has discussing immigration.

The Countertop Chronicles has arrested my attention with Grilled Raspberry Pork Loins. I can also relate to this post.

My buddy Elisson (and would be NOLA blogmeet attendee) of Blog d'Elisson swaps fancy for damn tasty with Chicken-in-a-Pot in the Style of She Who Must Be Obeyed. With a name like that, how could he possibly go wrong?? Elisson makes a Tasteful Observation.

David of Daily Pundit wows us with Baked Penne Pasta with Veal and Basil. He promises it is simple and takes forty-five minutes to prepare. I'll take him up on that! As if drooling over his recipe were not enough, he has to post this, too.

I love the name Duke and here he is of Pekin Prattles with his own "Almost Famous" Baby Back Ribs. Duke also shares some interesting insight as a National Staff Officer, United States Coast Guard Auxiliary.

SIDE DISHES:

Shawn of Everything and Nothing proves she has the mind of a lawyer with her Roasted Vegetable Lasagna. She also has an interesting eye for architecture.

As Annamarie of bunny? says her Hungarian Turos Csusza (Cottage Cheese Pasta) is not for the faint-hearted. She also has one word to describe men home brewing beer in a kitchen: fascinating.

DESSERTS:

My good friend Moogie of Moogie's World is sharing an extra-special family recipe for Rolled Oats Cake. It's a favorite of her family's for birthdays. Miss Moogie is a riot, especially when she vents about emails.

George of In the Interest of Me is a man definitely after my own heart. He speaks of Candy Icings, specifically, Marshmallow Icing and Fudge Icing. Oh, my! George is also pondering the need for architects to add a few initials after their names. Not a bad idea.

OTHER:

VW of One Happy Dog Speaks threw me a curve ball this time around. It would appear she is the grim reaper for the bug world. These are NOT to be served at parties, even if your ex or your mother-in-law is attending. Do not let her mercilessness regarding bugs throw you, she's a really fine mother and lady. After all, Tator and Tot are still with us!

And, that's it folks, another fantastic week of recipes!

If, if, if I have managed to miss someone, please let me know.

If anyone would like submit recipes for next week's carnival, feel free to do so by sending an email to recipe(dot)carnival(at)gmail(dot)com.

UPDATE: Trackbacks were hit or miss. I'll continue trying to ping those I have not been able to. My apologies to others for the multiple pings.

Query

Have you ever had a particularly tough time getting back into the groove following a great weekend?

Have you ever come home after an exceptionally bad day physically and mentally exhausted?

Have you ever just wanted to crawl into a bubble bath and soak to the point of relaxation?

Have you ever begun to enjoy that bath and then realized your legs really need a close shave only to discover you have not unpacked your bath razor and the spare razor is in the shower?

Have you ever pulled yourself dripping wet and covered with bubbles out of the tub to walk across a tile floor to retrieve said razor from the shower?

Have you ever completely wiped your ass out in the middle of the bathroom after retrieving that damned razor?

No?

Me neither.

Freshman Pledge

THIS is what happens when you show up to your very first blogmeet in New Orleans, no less, have a bit too much to drink, and entrust your person and your camera to a bunch of bloggers.

Ha!

P.S. Do not forget to read the comments.

Animal Attraction

Hey handsome, is that a chihuahua in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?

Just my luck, the gentleman smiled, then responded: A Chihuahua.

Animals, particularly dogs, have been a part of my life since I can remember; however, while I have lived with and around a number of the beasties, there have been very few that have actually been my very own.

In addition to being lovable and loyal companions and protectors, dogs have been an integral part of my social life. In fact, I met my first-ever boyfriend while walking my dog. Further, I "became aware of" the man I married while walking that very same dog.

It would appear my experience is not unusual. The British Journal of psychology has two new studies which suggest that dogs help increase their owners' interaction with others, making them more happy overall.

In the first study, a woman walking a dog through her daily routine recorded the number and quality of interactions she had with others. The results showed that the woman interacted with significantly more people than normal when accompanied by a dog, and particularly by more strangers.

To test how the physical appearance of the dog and owner affected the number of interactions, the researchers studied a man dressed in either a suit or torn jeans while walking a dog wearing either a matching collar and leash or a studded collar and frayed rope. The dog's appearance had little effect, but the man interacted with others 790 percent more than usual when wearing jeans and 1,000 percent more when wearing a suit.

While I have not performed a formal study, as a life-time animal lover, I think I have gathered a good bit of empirical evidence regarding the interaction of animals and their humans which has led to certain rather ill-defined (and hopefully amusing) conclusions.

Here are a few tips for the ladies:

1) Guys with dogs are usually outgoing and fun, but may be a bit too casual about tidiness, particularly if their idea of watering the dog is lifting the toilet cover;

2) Guys with cats are generally more meticulous in their personal upkeep, as well as that of their surroundings. I have also found gentlemen cat owners to be quite thoughtful and sensitive;

3) Those men who walk around with six and eight foot boas and pythons wrapped around their necks and naked torsos on the boardwalk or at the beach may have size-related "issues" or exhibitionist tendencies;

4) Men who are fashionably dressed and consummed with decorating and who also keep cages of gerbils are to be avoided;

5) The guy with the monkey trained to drop olives down the front of a lady's dress and then attempt to fish them out probably has a sense of humor (go ahead, pull my finger) your parents and other friends may not appreciate; and

6) Never date a man whose pet (dog, cat, or potbelly pig) is unable to sit on its bottom comfortably. Seriously.

Now, for completely different takes on the topic du jour, visit Silk, Kathy, and Sadie, as well as our gentlemen callers: Phin, The Wizard, Naked Villainy, and Stigmata. Our guest divaesque lady this week is Ruth; however, she had a prior committment and the ever-so-sauve Tincanman has agreed to fill-in.

Oh, Yeah, Dust Me, Baby!

A week or so ago while flipping through a magazine I ran across an advertisement for LUSH products. Always in the market for something new and exciting to spice up my daily ablutions, I also checked out the website.

There are a myriad of interesting products, but the product known as Silky Underwear captured my attention. According to the product information and ad caption:

The original, gorgeous luxury dusting powder, made to be worn with (or instead of) your very best undies. This is no ordinary powder, this is to 'talc' as silk is to brushed nylon. It makes your skin feel smooth-like silk (satin not tussah, obviously) because we add tiny pieces of coca butter to the cornstarch and china clay which get absorbed into your skin to moisturize it. We then perfume it with soothing vetivert and scandalously sensual jasmine to give you an appropriately luxurious scent.

As soon as I spied that, I knew I had to have some of my very own.

A store locator revealed a shop in New Orleans; however, as soon as I arrived in the city, I promptly and completely forgot about my need to have this. At least until Susan and I met Karen on Friday night.

It was during a conversation with Karen that she revealed she used to work retail in a store called LUSH. A brief interrogation produced the proper geographical coordinates for this establishment.

As it turned out, when Susan and I found the place on Saturday, we realized we had passed the store no less than three times.

With prize in hand, I later returned to the hotel for a shower and a "dusting."

Ummmm. I like.

This product has the first-ever Feisty Seal of Approval.

A Fine Time

What could be better than enjoying the sights, sounds, and tastes of one of my favorite cities with a group of people I have come to know and love as friends?

There were many familiar faces and a couple of news ones, too.

My man, Sam is just a powerhouse of a human being. Considerate and kind, he is also the go-to-guy when it comes time to put a plan into action. This trip would not have been possible without him; however, it would not have been half as fun without his lovely and talented better-half, Barbie. The two of you are a delight, I am so pleased to have been able to pass the time with both of you.

Kelley, Kelley, Kelley. This woman is one of the most amazing human beings I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She is gracious and kind with a dynamic charisma that could warm the most frigid of souls. Just when I think she could not be any sweeter, she opens her mouth and out pops one of the dirtiest (but damn funny) things I have ever, ever heard. Notwithstanding her off-color humor, she is a lady through and through.

Darlin’ Denny is the man I want to introduce to my mother. (That’s a good thing.) I like and respect him that much. He is independent, articulate, and intelligent. Hop in that beamer, man, and head on over to see me. Bring that Italian recipe you told me about and I’ll prepare the rest of the meal. We have a date!!

Shoe, baby, is one of a kind. Behind that sweet smile is a devil woman ready to party! Unfortunately, I was not up to speed to partake in most of the adventures involving Shoe. I’m just damn glad she graced us with her wonderful personality. She doesn’t live far from me and I’m hoping she heads on over this weekend for a BBQ at my house. See you there, honey, and bring your children.

The quintessential Velociman was in rare form. He is erudite and well-spoken as he is base and incorrigible. The man defies classification and convention. All I know is that I want this man in my corner when push comes to shove.

Miss Key is a loving and gentle soul ever ready with a smile and a kind word for everyone. There is never enough time, but I am fortunate to have had several opportunities to sit down and visit with her this trip. In fact, we need to talk about that female blogmeet at my house in the not-too-distant future, lady.

For those who are unaware, the dude known as Dash and I go way back. Suffice it to say, we have a history. I’m not sure what he expected when he signed on to head down to New Orleans, but I think he had a great time. As the ladies in attendance will probably agree, he can be both charming and sweet. I hear tell he can dance and party with the best of them; however, the pansy I am retired early and missed out on the closing of the bars on Bourbon Street. Dash dancing is certainly something I would have liked to see.

The delightful Karen braved the unknown when she appeared at Margaritaville at the appointed date and time. She has that energetic “Yat” accent distinctive of Nawlins and a delightful personality to match. She is one lady I’ll be calling the next time I head that way.

The elusive Yabu is one wild man. When least expected, he would pop over, pinch my behind, and whisper some of the most interesting things in my ear. Thanks for the drink, man. I hope to return the favor sometime.

My bestest girlfriend Susan is quite simply da bomb. Elegant, intelligent, and refined she can discuss politics, economics, and world events with insight, then without batting an eye, she’s groovin’ with the best of ‘em and ordering jello shots for a crowd. This woman has it going on!

Last, but certainly not least, is the witty, handsome, and articulate Zonker. This man has a profound generosity of spirit and soul. Often quiet and unassuming, he can be assertive (“Christina, wait. DO NOT walk the Quarter alone, I WILL go with you!), as well as a force of will when challenged. I cannot imagine a blogmeet without him. Zonker, you are a good friend and I cannot wait for you to make that trip to Texas!

That’s it, folks. A grand time was had by all.

Same time next year and everyone is invited!

The Cotillion

Taking a spin around the dance floor this week are:

Lids

A great deal of information can be garnered about a man simply by his choice of head gear.

UPDATE:

The owner of this hat, has rightfully claimed it!

Estoy Muy Cansada

Estoy Muy Cansada.

Je suis tres fatigue.

Dead dog damn tired.

However, NOLA was FANTASTIC!

Sam (and Barbie), Zonker, Denny, Kelley, Kim, Key, Dash, Yabu, Karen, and Shoe are da bomb.

Susan is the absolute BEST friend a girl could have.

There was no way I could keep up with that group of party revelers.

From Thursday to Sunday I managed to consume a White Russian and a Pina Colada, as well as liters of bottled water and gallons of iced tea; however, my choice of beverages gave me a unique opportunity to "record and document" the events as they transpired. (Email me for my direct deposit details, guys, you know who you are.)

(Big smile)

At dinner last night a unanimous vote directed NOLA is now an annual event.

See you there!

Now, I hear a bubble bath and my bed calling my name.

UPDATE!

THIS is the definitive blogmeet write-up. I can do no better than this gorgeous woman has already done.

A Softer Side

My good friend Sadie is a lot of things. In addition to being intelligent and outspoken, she is also the mother of a beautiful four-year-old daughter.

Like a ray of sunshine, she has shared a rare glimpse of this other side of her.

You are teaching your daughter well, lady. You should be very proud of yourself, as well as her.

The Mystery Begins

Lippy of Wired Jafa has the 25 Word Challenge up.

He peered worriedly over the edge of the old stone well. Down in the dim and murky depths he thought he could see something moving.

It has already taken an intriquing twist!

Next week: WitNit

Yabu of the Day

Doin' the DAX, Nawlins-Style

However, red is for sissys, Real Men Wear Pink!

Final Take Two

This is it, folks, the Final Take Two.

It's been a great ride with a lot of fantastic stories.

This week does NOT disappoint. We are going out with a BANG!

Here is the last set up:

"Don't leave me!" the voice cried, yet again.

"You can't do this!"

"PLEASE!"

Oblivious to the flashes of lightening, claps of thunder, the driving rain, the pleading eyes, the racing of the heart or the pounding in the head, the individual continued to walk away.

Nancy of Notes from Nancy's Noodle has a dark tale that has me wanting more! Well done!

My Brit friend Nuggets has a sinister and twisted story. I fear to say more without giving something away. Excellent.

The Lady Silk has done a superlative job at her new site Inkblot with a story she has aptly named Addiction. Her fiction has certainly become an addition of mine!!

Michael of Blogin Idiot took us in a whole other direction. Extremely clever.

This was an open call for stories, so if I missed you, please forgive me and drop me an email! I will update.

UPDATE:

The Wizard has weighed in with quite the psychological twist. I like!!

Silk is flirting with taking up the reigns of the Take Two endeavor. I encourage and support her to do so. There are so many intelligent and creative minds out there and I know we each have a story to share, particularly, in thousand words or less.

So many people stepped up and participated each week. To each of you, I am in your debt. Thank you all very much!

Gawd My Head is really beginning to hurt...

Here's Sam and Dash.

I'm not sure what all happened after that.

Blogging Under the Influence

From the Court of Two Sisters: Yabu's Bruddah, Barbie, and Yabu.

I kid you not.

SAM CHECKIN' IN!!

We're "downtown"!

Barbie and I are drunk and I've hijacked Christina's machine!

More later!!

~Sam

NOLA Bound

This is it folks, I'm headed to New Orleans today.

The girls will be spending some time with my mother.

Voodoo the cat will be boarded at the vet's and both dogs have an appointment with the surgeon to remove a couple of "tatoes" each. Ha! As my buddy Sam told me on the phone not long ago, that's not "fixing" a dog, that's "breaking" 'em.

Here's a list of the outlaws with whom I'll be hanging this weekend:

Sam and the lovely Babie
Kelley
Key
Kim and his brother
Denny and his guitar
Zonker
New friend and NOLA blogger, Karen
My best friend Susan
Shoe

I've heard a rumor this nefarious dude may show.

Marcus expressed an interest at one point, as did Elisson.

I hope they surprise us.

In addition, these guys will be with us in spirit, as well as on the phone: Kate, Pammy, Eric, Dax, and da Godfaddah. Ring, ring, guys, ring, ring!!

If this handsome fellow would send me his number, I'd be happy to call him, too! I know I am not the only one who would love to speak with him. Right, Key and Sam?

Now, the plan is for me to have wi-fi in the hotel room so I can post the Final Take Two Showcase on Friday, as well as report on Saturday's 25 Word Challenge hosted by the lovely Lippy of Wired JAFA.

If (faint) I don't have wi-fi in the room, I'm going to put my hound dog Zonker on it and will score a connection somewhere, somehow. In Jeckyll, he was fully prepared, with "leash" in hand, to walk the connection back to our rooms; however, I will let him 'splain, if he is so inclined.

I'm SO Embarrassed!

How many times have you gone out on a date, particularly a first date, and everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong? Seriously, it has happened to each of us at one time or another.

I know I'm not the only one, there are websites devoted to Bad Date Stories and More Embarrassing Dating Moments.

Fortunately, while I cannot top some of those stories, I have had my share of most embarrassing moments and bad dates.

Have I ever mentioned I am really bad at names? I have a good memory for a great many things, just not names. I am a visual learner, so I learn in pictures. If I have seen or read something, I can usually call up the image in my mind and practically read from memory a page I have seen. I just really stink with names, especially those from verbal introductions.

I met this really nice guy one time the day after I watched the Tom Selleck film Quigley Down Under, his name was Ray; however, much like the female lead character in that movie, I kept calling the poor guy Roy. He would gently correct me. I would try really hard to remember the correction and two minutes later, call him Roy again. Let's face it, I had Roy on the brain and Ray was not amused. So sorry.

My first date ever was with this guy named Jeff. He was a pre-med major in college and had a 4.0 average. We met through mutual friends (he was a football player and I tutored a number of them in college) and arrangements were made for a double date. Back then, I spent most of my free time reading and writing poetry and prose. I had an extensive vocabularly. Anyway, when the guys arrived to pick my friend and me up, Jeff asked if I was ready. Nervously, I shyly nodded. He then whipped out a small book from his pocket and announced: "I have my Webster's Pocket Dictionary, I can know take you out." I was mortified.

Later that same evening, after we went to a show (Prince's old flame, Vanity, in The Last Dragon), the four of us ended up at a place called Sheleleigh's (a Bennigan's-type establishment) for a late meal. When the waitress came by to take our order, my date turned to me and I ordered "A Little Bit of Everything." He damn-near fainted before we could explain it was a small sampler, not everything on the menu.

Things happen, particularly when we are nervous. We occasionally have slips of the tongue and things come out in unintended ways. The important thing to remember is to keep one's sense of humor. A light heart and much laughter have rescued me from more than one embarrassing moment. Afterall, they also make for memorable dates.

For further discuss (and hopefully more revealing embarrassing moments), be sure to visit Sadie, Silk, Kathy, and our guest-diva, Michele of Meanderings, as well as the Wizard, Phin, Stigmata, and the Naked Villains.

I so need a Vacation

Cakeeater Lady Kathy has the right idea when she recommended this for my Mom, the girls, and me to do.

I think I could persuade this girlfriend to come along, as well as this new friend who has expressed an interest in this sort of thing.

However, I have no doubt there are a host of heat packing guys out there who would like to come, too.

FYI

Sweet One is guest-posting over at blog-daughter Amelie's this week.

There's a lot to be said for cute

If the four-year-old Wee One were not so damned cute, I would have probably pinched her little head off long before now.

I realize I am to blame.

It is always the fault of the mother.

Wee One is cute, sassy, and too smart for her own good, as well as mine.

Add to the mix, I have spoiled her; however, I have had help. Sweet One spoils her. Her aunts and uncles, her grandparents, and friends and neighbors all spoil her.

If it is pink or purple and oh, so girlie, they buy it and send it to her.

As a result, she thinks she is Queen Bee.

Queen Bee who not only accessories with shoes and hand bags, but lunch boxes. Yes, that's right, lunch boxes.

This morning's melt-down revolved around which lunch box matched today's outfit.

Christ, I'm too damn old for this.

God knew what he was doing.

If Wee One had been the first born child, she would be an only child.

Apollo 11

On this date in 1969 we landed on the moon!

A State of Mind

It is axiomatic.

Different places mean different things to different people.

It should come as no surprise New Orleans is one of my favorite destinations. While I have never lived there, I have lived within an hour of the Crescent City and spent a great deal of time over the years there.

While it may be the consummate party town, I have never been one of those die hard party girls. It is just not my nature. In fact, I have over-imbibed exactly twice in my life and neither time was in New Orleans.

For me the city has always taken the form of a mature and worldly suitor come lover. A man of history and experience whose laugh lines and furrowed brows are represented by aging buildings of distinct architectural heritages. Multicultural with French, Spanish, English, and African influences, he is also multilingual. When he speaks English, he does so with an accent all his own.

His heart beats with an intensity and vibrancy that always catches my breath and hastens my step to see, hear, taste, and experience all he has to offer.

On one afternoon he is refined as he takes me on carriage ride from Jackson Square through the quarter. Very gentlemanly and attentive, he speaks of the river, the Cabildo, and the people who remain.

Only after he has filled my head with images of times gone by, does he lead me away from the harshness of Bourbon Street down Magazine Street to shop for antiques on our way to Audubon Zoo where he seeks to entertain me with all manner of wildlife.

After an early evening respite with the opportunity to first bathe, then don my finery, he again pulls me into the night with streets lit with traditional gas lamps, as well as neon and fluorescent. He promises me a fine meal and asks me to choose between Galatoire's, Commander's Palace, and Arnaud's. In the mood for Shrimp Clemenceau and Chocolate Decadence with raspberry coulis, I elect Galatoire's.

After the sumptuous feast, he takes me by the hand and escorts me from one jazz and blues club to the next in search of that vibe that will speak to my restless soul.

This evening I have the desire to hear the Neville brothers. With an all-knowing smile he transports me to Tipitina's where I listen rapturously as Aaron sings "Don't take away my heaven."

Only after he has seduced every facet of my being does he return me to my room and gently lay me down as the faint sounds of the city encourage me to surrender to a sweet slumber with nothing but thoughts of him on my mind.

For me New Orleans is not only a sensory and sensual experience, but a visceral and psychological one.

I can always feel the energy and change in me as soon as I pull onto Canal Street in front of the Super Dome. I become more relaxed, even as my excitement grows. It is the one place I can truly leave my cares behind, if only for a few hours or a couple of days. I know the rest of the world will continue at its break-neck speed, it is just for a brief period, I cease to care.

With all that has been going on in my life these last couple of years, I am long overdue a tryst with this lover.

UPDATE: From someone who should know, Karen is a resident of New Orleans and gives her thoughts on the city.

Wine, Guns, and Ammo

Sounds like a blogmeet, no?

Not hardly.

My mother just called. I am meeting her en route to New Orleans on Thursday so she can take the girls for me.

She had several special requests, in addition to the girls:

Wine - Sweet Texas Red
Guns - Smith & Wesson .357 revolver; .22 revolver; and .22 rifle
Ammo - Boxes of .38 and .22 rounds, pellets, and BBs.

Last month, I posted about my mom's place being robbed and her desire to learn to shoot. In the comments to that post, John of Thirty Second Thoughts had some excellent advice. He also followed up by sending me a copy of a book he has written: "The Beginner's Guide to Selecting a Handgun."

A belated, but no less sincere "Thank you" goes to John for his assistance and advice. John, you are awesome!

While Mom still needs practice with the revolver, she has taken to the rifle like a duck to water. It's a damn good thing she is insulated by a bit of acreage, she confessed she's all out of ammo because the birds have been eating her beloved figs. (I did not ask what she is using to shoot them with, I really did not want to know.)

I am not wild about the prospect of her shooting birds with anything other than a pellet rifle, so I'm sending another pellet rifle for Sweet One to show her how to use properly.

Oh, let me add, when Sweet One was at camp a few weeks ago, she took marksmanship for the third year. She earned the top "Sharp Shooter" award for her proficiency with a .22 rifle. Woohoo!

One word of advice: Don't mess with the women in my family.

Date with the Cotillion

The Cotillion Ball's hostesses for this week are:

Neighbors helping neighbors

Lady Sadie has taken up the cause to help at least one person and her family left devastated by the flooding from Hurricane Dennis.

Please remember, natural disasters and other tragedies can strike any of us at any time.

Damn, I wonder about people...

Today I had the delight and good fortune to chat with all these fine people.

NOLA was one topic of conversation. In fact, while I was jawing with Kate (her husband refers to me as a hayseed with an accent, by the way), I told her the last time I headed down NOLA way I saw the most interesting thing. I mentioned that same incident to Sam and he told me to go ahead and post about it.

So, here goes.

I spend a great deal of time on the road commuting to and from work. In addition, the last few years I have been traveling back and forth from home to Louisiana because of my father's declining health, then death.

On most of those trips I drove a Chevy Tahoe. That vehicle and my lead foot gave me a good vantage point from which I could look into most of the vehicles I passed in my journeys. While I do not make a habit of peering into neighboring vehicles, occasionally an odd thing or two catches my eye.

One day I passed a smaller car and saw a guy with his seat laid way back and his left hand on the wheel. If he had been any further reclined, he would have had to sit in the back seat. I could not imagine that would be a comfortable position from which to drive, but that was his business. As I came abreast of his vehicle, I looked over and saw his wife/girlfriend with her head bobbing in his lap. While not a prude, I was surprised, particularly when he smiled and waved at me.

Good Lord.

As Kate pointed out, men are not known to be able to stand up well under those circumstances, much less drive. That's certainly been my experience, but I digress.

Over the years I have seen other strange things that people do in vehicles. Here are some which came to mind:

I once saw a guy eat cereal out of a bowl with a spoon while driving with his knees.

One woman painted her toenails with one foot then the other straddling either side of the steering wheel.

There was also that guy who clipped his toenails, again, while he was driving.

The flexibility of these individuals is amazing.

There's always the fool with the newspaper pulled across the steering wheel as he is speeding down the highway.

Everyone has probably seen women drivers applying their makeup.

I even had a friend of mine pulled over for putting on mascara before. When she asked the officer what she had done wrong, he pointed out the rear view mirror was not supposed to be pointed at her face while she was driving, rather it's purpose was to see what was behind her. She got off with a warning.

Lastly, several years ago I remember a guy in a very small Honda Civic coupe reach from the driver's seat to the back, unstrap an infant, lift it to the front seat, and change its diaper, all while driving down the highway at 65+ miles an hour.

"Ralph" Alarm

This is so weird.

We have two dogs, a Cairn Terrier named Riley and a Golden Retriever called Skeet. They are good boys and spend most every waking moment together. At night, Riley sleeps with Sweet One and Skeet sleeps in the dog room.

Skeet must have a sensitive stomach because for the past few months, he has had these "ralphing" (barfing) fits. Understandably, the household (me) much prefers he "ralph" outside.

A few minutes ago Riley went on a barking rampage.

When Sweet One investigated, Skeet was exhibiting the dry heaves. She immediately let him outside and he did what he needed to do.

For a terrier, Riley rarely barks. Lately, he only barks when Skeet is about to be ill. That makes him a "Ralphing" early warning signal.

Now, THAT's a damn good dog!!

Ummm, ummm good!

There are many aspects of my life which closely resemble a three-ring circus.

First, there are the girls, most particularly Wee One.

Second, I am pleased to say the girls and I have a lot of good friends, including the parents of Sweet One's friends.

Third, my neighbors are fantastic.

Fourth, I have a reputation among my friends of being a pretty good cook and I enjoy entertaining.

What does all this mean?

Well, those anal planning genes of mine and the circumstances of our daily lives dictate I keep a pretty well-stocked pantry and freezer because I never know from one moment to the next who all will be at the door and invited by me to come in and stay for supper.

A week or so ago the parents of Sweet One's best friend stopped by to drop off their child. As we were visiting on the front porch, another couple stopped by to return some dishes (I sent a meal to them because the wife had broken her arm).

As darkness fell, I bade the husband of the second couple to fetch his guitar and serenade us on the back patio. Fortunately, he did.

A little while later, the next door neighbor let his dogs out, then joined us, as well.

By midnight, I had a houseful of children and a patio full of good friends. It was fabulous and completely unexpected.

A couple of my favorite impromptu appetizers to serve is a block of cream cheese covered with Jamaica's own Pickapeppa Sauce (distributed from a company in Metairie, Louisiana that is just outside of New Orleans) and a second block of cream cheese covered with Raspberry Chipotle Sauce. Add an assortment of crackers, cold beer, and other libations and it's a party!

Why has all this come to mind now?

{{Big Smile}}

I'm enjoying a bit of cream cheese and Raspberry Chipotle right at this very moment.

Damn. That's good stuff.

If you are wondering what is in it, here is a recipe; however, I usually buy mine from New Canaan Farms.

What Next?

Going about my daily activities this afternoon I caught a whiff of a familiar scent; however, I was engrossed in what I was doing and did not think too much about it.

A few minutes later, I caught a second whiff of that same odor. After a brief moment, it occurred to me what it was: nail polish.

Roll call produced Sweet One, but no Wee One.

Not good.

An immediate search revealed Wee One with a bottle of Sweet One's metallic lavenderish/purplish mod-type polish.

She was not painting her nails, just a blue cardboard puzzle box.

Not to startle her into dropping the bottle of polish onto the carpet before I could grab it, I asked evenly: "What are you doing?"

"I'm not painting my nails, Momma, I'm not painting my nails. You told me I couldn't paint my own nails."

Mental note: Change the prohibition from painting nails to using nail polish at all.

"Yes, but what are you doing?"

"Oh, well, I didn't like the blue color on this box. Doesn't it look better with the shiny purple?"

Birthdays!!

Sissy of And What Next is having a BIRTHDAY today!

Tomorrow the handsome and irreverent gentleman Phin is having a birthday, too!!

Many Happy Returns of the Day, Sissy and Phin!

Four Days

In four days the first of the bloggers will begin convening in New Orleans (NOLA) for a bit of revelry, some fine food, conversation, and music.

As they say: Laissez les bon temps rouler!

My list of attendees includes:

Sam and the lovely Barbie
Kelley
Key
Kim and his brother
Denny and his guitar
Zonker
New friend and NOLA blogger, Karen
My best friend Susan (How I managed to talk her into another blogmeet, I will never know.)

Let me not forget Shoe!!

Rumors floating about mention these guys may show:

Bad Bad JuJu
Marcus
Elisson.
Ernie the Attorney

We shall see.

This is an open invitation. If you are interested in joining us, all you have to do is show up.

Zonker has already posted on Friday evening's plans.

UPDATE: Recap of the weekend's events is here!

Sunday Morning Coming Down

As noted, I'm headed to New Orleans this week. In addition to the excitement of the city and the fabulous music, I LOVE the food.

Here are some things for a memorable brunch.

Bourbon Milk Punch

1 1/2 cups milk
1 1/2 cups bourbon (Maker's Mark)
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup sugar
1 TBS "pure" vanilla extract (experiment with Amaretto for a slightly different taste)
Freshly ground nutmeg.

Blend all ingredients (except nutmeg) in a blender until frothy.

Pour into glasses, sprinkle with nutmeg, and serve immediately.

Serves 6, unless, you are Sam or Velociman, then triple the ingredients and share with your closest friend.

For those of us not quite up to Bourbon in the morning, there's the traditional Cafe au Lait.

Cafe au Lait

1/2 cup Cafe Noir* per serving
1/2 cup whole milk or cream per serving

*Cafe Noir (very strong black coffee). Use 2 to 4 tablespoons of ground coffee for each eight ounces of water used. Coffee blended with chicory can be used, as well.

Scald the milk: heat in the top of a double boiler over simmering water just until a thin film appears. Alternatively, scald milk in a microwave; the time will vary according to the microwave, but in my microwave, it takes about 40 seconds on high (for one serving); stop the microwave before the milk starts to foam.

Simultaneously, pour the hot Cafe Noir and scalded milk into a cup. Sweeten if desired.

Grillades

Pronounced gree-yahds. These are tender medallions of veal that are simmered in rich tomato gravy until they are fork tender. Serve them over grits for breakfast or rice for lunch. A classic New Orleans dish.

1 1/2 lbs. veal steak
Flour, salt, pepper
2 TBS bacon drippings
1/3 cup chopped onion
1/3 cup chopped celery
1/3 cup chopped bell pepper
1 (8 oz) can tomato sauce
1/4 tsp thyme
1 bay leaf

Take the veal and cut into cutlets 4" x 4".

Flour, salt, and pepper meat very lightly. Fry to a golden brown and set aside.

Using the fat in which the meat was fried, saute bell pepper, celery, and onion. Add tomato sauce and seasonings.

Return cutlets to mixture and add water until covered. Simmer until meat is tender. Additional water may need to be added as it cooks. A gravy will form.

Bon Appetite!

David at the Glittering Eye is hosting this week's Carnival of the Recipes.

Girls, Girls, Girls

Notwithstanding the migraine saga, a couple weeks ago I promised Sweet One she could have a couple friends over to spend the night. One of the girls invited was someone she had met at camp in a city about an hour away.

This was a big deal to Sweet One and I did not want to disappoint anyone by canceling the sleepover. Additionally, I had yet to meet someone with whom my twelve-year old had made friends who was outside my sphere of influence. I was curious about the young lady and wanted to assess Sweet One's judgment. (On that note, I am pleased to convey the new friend is a delightful, bright, and responsible young lady!)

So, with vestiges remaining of a major headache, I had no less than four girls running around my house last night, two of which were mine. Pizzas were called in and I holed up in my room with Voodoo, smooth jazz playing quietly, and a couple of crossword puzzles to keep me company.

Lights out was called around 1:30 a.m.

By 2:00 a stern warning was issued to the effect: If I heard another peep, all three of the big girls would be placed in separate rooms for the remainder of the night.

By 10:30 the next morning, I finally managed to rouse the final sleepy head up and into a shower. Breakfast was skipped entirely and I decided to take the girls out for lunch at a Chinese restaurant.

The spry and ever-energized Wee One and I led the dragging stragglers through the parking lot and into the building. The Asian hostess looked at me and my blondish four year old and asked how many and how old. I told her one four year old, three twelve year olds, and me.

The hostess surveyed the girls: a black-haired, nearly black-eyed Sweet One (my clone), a true blonde-haired, blue-eyed new friend, the brown-haired, hazel-eyed best friend, and Wee One.

She then asked with a smile: "Are they all yours?"

More Fiction

David of Fishtown Chatter has the 25 Word Challenge up!

The curtains opened and from the gurney he saw his past staring back at him. As the fluid began to drip, he thought, "My God........

He's going to be gone all weekend, so please head over there and let's give him something interesting to return to.

UPDATES are ongoing on TAKE TWO. Be sure to check them out!

"That would be a ten"

Last Saturday night the girls and I went to dinner and a movie (Madagascar).

As is her wont, Wee One carried a purse with her.

Yes, I know she is four, but she has more purses and hand bags than I do and she is far more likely to carry them than her older sister. The only time Sweet One carries a purse with her is a) when she has money and b) is on the prowl for a specific item on which to spend that money.

Wee One carries one with her to day school, to the mail box, to the grocery store, and every where else. In it, she has at least one play phone, lip gloss, chapstick, memo pad (for her never-ending lists), assorted writing instruments, an old empty wallet of mine, and nail polish. (The nail polish is Hello Kitty and specially made for wee ladies.)

Wee One is the quintessential bag lady, only very young and quite diminutive.

The anal human that I am, our habit is to swing by the theatre first, purchase our tickets, then go to dinner. After a leisurely meal, we head over to the theatre and enjoy the show.

Everything was going to plan. I scored the tickets, we enjoyed a nice meal, we arrived at the show with ten minutes to spare; however, before we could get to our seats, Wee One asserted she wanted something from the concession stand.

I was amazed. She could not have been hungry because she had eaten a full meal, including ice cream for dessert.

I told her "No, I'm not buying any junk for you to eat."

Wee One: "I did not ask you to buy me anything. I have my own money, I was going to buy it myself."

Me: "What money?"

With great drama and ceremony, Wee One opened her purse, pulled out the wallet, and extracted a neatly folded and rather crisp bill.

Stunned, I asked her the obvious: "What is that?"

With even more theatrics, she unfolded it and said: "Well, there's a one and a zero on it. That would be a ten to me."

I could have slapped her. Instead, I asked: "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, [Sweet One] gave me her old backpack, I found it in there."

She barely got the words out before Sweet One snatched the bill from her with: "Hey, that's mine!"

Without upset or emotion Wee One reached back into the wallet and came up with a couple of singles. "That's okay, I found this in the dryer."

With Snowcaps in hand, Wee One led us into the theatre.

Take Two Part V

It is dawn. The first thin fingers of the morning sun are reaching across the distant waves toward the shore. She has emerged from the darkness to stand alone in quiet testament to the ability to survive and endure all the night holds.

Instinctively she knows the worst has yet to come.

This was the sketch presented this week, the fifth and penultimate week of Take Two. We are off to a fabulous start. I think you will agree.

The Wizard of Down for Repairs graced me with a preview of two versions of his story earlier in the week. He wrote a long version, then winnowed it down a bit; however, he has lost nothing of this great story. Don't miss Tala, his Apache Warrior Woman.

Not only is she a gorgeous woman who speaks her mind, Phoenix has a way with words. Hers is an amazing and riveting tale. Let's just say, Villains Vanquished, indeed.

The ladies of Tammi's World, Leslie's Omnibus, and Key Issues will also be posting their stories as the day unfolds. I will update as they do.

UPDATE:

Ms. Monroe is a woman motivated by deadlines. Under the gun or not, she can tell a tale!! Check it out.

UPDATE TWO:

The lady of the Omnibus takes on quite a ride, a mental and emtional ride as her character struggles with a dilemma, the guilt trip. Well done, Leslie.

Next week is the last and final installment of Take Two.

Here is the scenario:

"Don't leave me!" the voice cried, yet again.

"You can't do this!"

"PLEASE!"

Oblivious to the flashes of lightening, claps of thunder, the driving rain, the pleading eyes, the racing of the heart or the pounding in the head, the individual continued to walk away.

I hope to have contributions from Notes from Nancy's Noodle, Mark of Witnit, and my friend of Random Pensees.

There are spots open, if anyone (whether you have participated before or whether you have a blog or not) would like to participate, just let me know. This is an open invitation.

Friday Business

It would appear I have not paid appropriate homage to the Migraine Gods of late and they have responded in kind. As a result, I am more than a bit behind.

Thursdays are now Demystifying Diva and Men's Club days. Yesterday, my friends tackled the topic of Romantic Rejection and the best way to avoid it.

Sadie offered a guarantee on how to avoid rejection entirely: If single, take a vow of celebacy or if attached, remain in an unhappy relationship. Fortunately, if neither of those options appeals to you, she offers even more sage advice.

That Sassy Silk takes an in-depth look at what is going on with us when it comes to rejection. She has some great commentary that made me take stock and reflect a bit. I won't spoil it for you here.

The clever Kathy has an interesting take on the subject of rejection and assimilates it to laundry, at least something about washing... Kathy is that good friend we should all have. That one person you know who will kick you in the pants and tell you NOT what you want to hear, but exactly what you know you should have been doing all along.

Kathy's blog-daughter and this week's Guest-Diva, Phoenix is cut from that same cloth. While she may have remained "off the market" for the last eight years (and counting),Phoenix definitely knows of what she speaks. She shares her experience and insight on this two way street of rejection.

Something of a collaboration between the Air Marshall and the Maximum Leader over at Naked Villainy resulted in putting rejection in baseball all star terms. From there, they proceeded to discuss first monasteries, then "Missy Mounds." Oh, my!

The suave and romantic Stigmata sets out his wisdom and understanding on this topic of rejection by establishing the two kinds: The Opener and the Established.

The delightful and amusing Phin has succeeded once again in taking a topic and managing to discuss it with seriousness and humor. Don't reject his "Don't be a reject..."

Our favorite Wizard reminds us the problem of rejection does not disappear once we are settled in our relationships. He also has some great information and advice for those dating. It's called the Paper Napkin. Sounds interesting, non?

UPDATE:

Take Two is coming!!! Today is Take Two. I haven't forgotten!

Two thoughts

A man should look for what is, and not for what he thinks should be.
~Albert Einstein

The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits.
~Albert Einstein

Chicken Marsala

One of my favorite moms, VW of One Happy Dog Speaks is hosting this week's Carnival of the Recipes! (She also has her brand spanking new site up!)

Chicken Marsala

16 fresh sage leaves
8 large thin slices of prosciutto
8 chicken cutlets
2 TBS all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
Garlic powder to taste
1 TBS olive oil
3 TBS butter
3/4 cup Marsala (wine)
2 TBS chopped fresh parsley
2 TBS capers in brine, coarsely chopped (this is optional for me)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place 2 sage leaves in the center of each piece of prosciutto, then wrap each cutlet in the prosciutto.

Put flour on a plate and season with pepper and garlic powder. Dredge the cutlets in flour.

Heat oil and 1 TBS butter in a skilled. Once butter is foaming, add 4 cutlets, seam-side down. Cook over medium-high heat until golden brown, about three minutes per side. Transfer to a baking dish. Add another TBS of butter and brown the remaining cutlets.

Once all the cutlets are golden brown and transferred to a baking dish, cook in the oven for 8 minutes.

Meanwhile, reduce pan heat to medium-low and add the Marsala. Stir constantly and scrap the bottom of the pan. Simmer for three minutes, then add the capers (optional) and parsley. Stir in the remaining butter.

Serve over your favorite pasta. Add a fresh salad and Italian bread.

Call Me!

This is going to be one of those gushing posts.

It happens.

I love and adore both of my daughters. The four-year-old Wee One often gets more "air time," so to speak, here on Feisty, but that is largely due to her age and her antics. She's just damn funny.

The twelve-year-old Sweet One (or Smart One as my buddy David has dubbed her) is a bit more reserved, in addition to being significantly (in child years) older than Wee One. She has been through that antics stage and transformed into a thoughtful and articulate young lady. I love them both with all my heart.

Over the weekend, Sweet One hosted the 25 Word Challenge and did a fantastic job! In the comments following the end of the story, she and I went back and forth a bit and it struck me how much the manner in which we interact has changed with the technology. She and I still talk to one another face-to-face, but a part of our daily communication also takes the form of emails and phone calls.

I have no doubt, once school starts and she begins traveling with the band, basketball team, and tennis team I will break down and get her a mobile phone so I can give myself some peace of mind when she is away from me. At that point, we will probably be text messaging, too.

The bottom line, I am most delighted with the simple fact we are communicating.

We are also sharing common interests. After her hosting of the challenge, Sweet One has already informed me if I need her to guest-post here on Feisty, she's available. I can hear it now, she’s setting me up to ask for a blog of her own.

As to Wee One, I shudder to think what form of communication will come into play by the time she is independently mobile. I think I shall just have her fashioned with an ankle bracelet/cuff and monitor her through a satellite GPS system. Something tells me these years with her will not be so pleasant.

Come Dance with Us

This week I am honored to be one of the hostesses for the Cotillion Ball. Joining me are: Cassandra of Villainous Company and Sissy of SISU.

Before the music begins, Kathy of Cake Eater Chronicles needs your support. Her six-year-old nephew James has Type I Diabetes Mellitus. For the uninitiated, that is Juvenile Diabetes, the really bad kind. Make no mistake, both kinds are bad. Please read her post The Walk To Cure Diabetes, then figure out how you can help. Thank you!

Now, get your dancing shoes, we have a number of lively and intelligent women to take us for a spin around the ballroom floor.

Pamela of Atlas Shrugs has been staying abreast of issues involving the lives of the subjugated and abused women of Islam. She discusses ten different articles. Her reports are sobering.

My dear friend Oddybobo of Boboblogger has given her thoughts regarding the recent terrorist attacks in London. She has written honestly and with great emotion. She is also on to something. She says we should take the fight to the fanatic's doorstep. I agree. Well said.

Juliette of Baldilocks is definitely a woman who speaks her mind. She has done an excellent analysis of the effect of the Supreme Court's ruling in Brown v. Board of Education [Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483 (1954)] on the Klu Klux Klan and the terrorism of today. If you read about politics and current events and are not reading her daily, you are missing out.

The lady of Are You Conservative announced her solidarity with our British friends and has graciously provided a beautiful flag combining our American flag with the Union Jack for any who wish to download it.

Janette of Common Sense Runs Wild asked the question: How Did I Miss this Headline? Thereafter, she provides an interesting discussion of the Muslim reaction to terrorism.

Dr. Sanity has written a fascinating piece on what the voices of appeasement will do after the London attacks. She advises we interpret the defense. This lady has just become a daily read.

The insightful Jane of Armies of Liberation asked the question: Is Yemen going to be another Taliban state? She then provided one viewpoint here. She is correct, that article "nails it."

Annika of Annika's Journal displays her ability to "think outside the box" and play the "devil's advocate" in her post: Let Me Put On My Leftie Hat For A Second...

Darleen of Darleen's Place has a gift for satire. She has featured a list of questions for the next SCOTUS nominee culled from what she described as "the patriotic, selfless groups of NARAL, NOW and People for the American Way."

Another of our intelligent and indepedent-thinking skeptics, Ith of Absinthe & Cookies says: "It's in TIME, so it must be true." She references an article which seeks to "define" moderates and conservatives on the Supreme Court. Indeed. I'm with Ith on this one.

The outspoken and delightful Sissy of SISU takes on a ride which began with "We will not be terrorized," as well as the death and resurrection of her 5 1/2 year old computer. From her politics to her choice of computers, she and I are like-minded.

Tammy of A Mom and Her Blog posted some very personal thoughts regarding the terror which struck London last week. Along with Tammy, I am grateful her son is home safe, too.

Crystal of Crystal Clear has a provocative post regarding free speech and problems with a commenter on her own blog in: Maybe on Your Front Lawn & Blog.

Raven of And Rightly So is a very direct and to the point lady. She is indignant at the antics of one Hitlary Clinton, and rightly so: ….MS. PIGGY shut the hell up

As most are aware, Carol of An American Housewife lost her husband just over a week ago. She has posted a Thank You "to everyone who sent in their comments of condolence, prayers and thoughts." She has a difficult time ahead of her, as noted here. Please keep Carol and her children in your thoughts and prayers.

God Bless.

Worthy of Recognition

The lovely and talented Silk has just created a new site to house her fiction: Ink Blot.

Well, Good Morning!

This is what greeted me this morning about eight feet from the front door. (Click to enlarge)

What happened next is shocking!

The damn thing tried to eat my camera.

Apparently, she was orphaned sometime in the spring and one of my neighbors fostered her for a while. I've seen her hanging around their house.

She's very friendly and wants to be petted. That is why she approached this morning. She also wanted to sample what my buffet had to offer (garden-wise) before she made her rounds.

What did the kids have to say?

Well, they are my children. "Yum. Bambi!"

Playmates

When Sweet One was three and four years old, one of her favorite activities was to play dress up. Her idea of that game was not only to don the clothes of make believe herself, but to dress others, including me.

As she was the only child at the time, both her father and I spent a great deal of time with her reading, talking, and playing; however, I did not and do not believe that children should be "entertained" by others every moment of every day.

Thus, I encouraged Sweet One to learn to entertain herself, as much to enhance her own imagination, as to give me an opportunity to maintain my sanity.

One afternoon Sweet One was lamenting not having someone "her size" to play with. Her dress up clothes were far too small for me and she had grown tired of trying on and taking off different outfits. She complained she did not have a "friend" to play with and she had grown bored with me.

Spying my ever present canine companion Tango, a black standard poodle, I directed him to follow me into Sweet One's room and then told him to sit and stay. While she looked at me curiously, Tango gazed at me pleadingly. The dog knew what was coming next, the small daughter did not.

"Here you go," I informed Sweet One, "here is your new friend. He is here for a tea party, but is not yet appropriately dressed."

She needed no further explanation. Out came the chest of clothes and within minutes poor Tango was dressed in pink and purple finery, replete with boa and straw hat. Good dog that he was, he sat patiently while she dressed and undressed him, all the while she chatted incessantly to him, just as she would a human playmate.

When his outfit was complete, Sweet One announced "tea time" which was usually my cue to bring milk and cookies. That time I appeared with milk, cookies, and a dog biscuit.

There are eight years between my daughters. Sweet One is occasionally patient and kind to Wee One, but more often than not, each is off doing her own thing.

These days it is Wee One who complains of boredom. Just as I did with her older sister, I read, play, and talk to her, as well as encourage her to "entertain" herself.

Tango is no longer with us and Wee One has little interest in dogs. Voodoo the cat is the object of her desire. When she has tired of tormenting her older sister and me or of entertaining herself, she goes in search of Voodoo. They have their own game of hide and seek.

When she finally spots him, she immediately becomes nonchalant. She appears to ignore him as she walks by him and at the last second she will make a quick as lightening move to snag him. Usually, he resists initially, but by the time she gets both hands on him and slings him fireman style over one of her shoulders, he relaxes as he succombs to her attentions.

On those occasions Wee One is occupied with other activities, it is Voodoo who goes in search of her.

If she is watching a movie while sitting on the couch, he sneaks up on her, pounces, then runs. I have not yet decided which of them is the truer miscreant.

Watching their antics, I often wish I had a "playmate" more my size, speed, and temperament.

The Power of Words

Like most of us, I awoke Thursday morning to news of the blasts in London. On the way to work, I listened to the FoxNews coverage on satellite radio. I had that feeling of dread, that feeling of not knowing what was next to happen and not knowing whether my friends just outside of London were safe and sound.

Fortunately, I called that morning and each was accounted for and well. My good friend's sister-in-law was stuck in the north of London and I'm quite sure she had great difficulty getting home that day, but she was fine.

Later, I did my routine search of the blogroll and realized one of my fellow bloggers knew someone who had been injured in one of the blasts. Nuggets reported his best friend Beks was in ICU.

Not knowing what else to do, I asked you to go over and send your prayers and well wishes. A number of you did. Thank you.

This morning Nuggets sent me an email. Here is part of what he said:

I'm just back from London and the comments took me by surprise and really, really touched me. So stuck for words at the moment but the kindness of strangers is truly remarkable.

Again I thank you.

There is good news now. Despite her cuts, bruises, burns, and broken ribs, Beks is on the mend.

Nuggets has a post up to say Thank you and gives a complete update, as well as a few details of what happened. He hopes to be able to post a complete account of Beks' ordeal in the next few days.

Sweet One's 25 Word Challenge

This week Feisty Repartee is hosting the 25 Word Challenge; however, my lovely and bright twelve and a half-year-old Sweet One is hosting.

So, please remember to keep it PG-13.

The rules are very simple:

a) each comment has to be precisely 25 words and
b) no back to back comments, but commenters can come back as often as they like.

Here goes:

As she opened her umbrella and stepped off the bus and into the wet, Seattle street, she remembered her original intentions for this long trip,

Next week my buddy David over at Fishtown Chatter is hosting.

The rest of the schedule includes:

July 23 – Lippy Cat of Wired JAFA
July 30 - Mark of WitNit
August 6 - the Lovely Kate of KateSpot
August 13 - Tincanman at Tincanman
August 20 - Amelie of for a breath i tarry
August 27 - VW of One Happy Dog Speaks

Sekreet Message to That 1 Guy: Happy Birthday!!

UPDATE!

Looks like I am having a comment problem. Please keep trying or email me your comment contributions. Thank you!

Comments are still down, it a munuviana thing. My apologies.

Zonker has the first comment to continue the story:

It had taken her a long time to get to this point and so much had changed in that time, including her. Moving north, she...

My new NOLA friend, Karen (see you in a couple of weeks) added:

…looked for him. He said he would be waiting, and sure enough, there he was. Her heart sank as she looked into his weatherbeaten face.

Next week's host and my buddy David chimes in:

sliced through the drizzle, making a beeline toward her destination-the home of a man whom she had once loved, a man who had once...

UPDATE TWO:

My new hero is the dashing gentleman of Light & Dark. Comments are back up! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Prayers Needed

One of Nuggets' best friends was on the train between Russell Square and King's Cross. She is now in intensive care.

Please send your well wishes and prayers.

Take Two Part IV

It's Friday! Take Two is in full swing!!

El Capitan of Baboon Pirates has had the assignment for three weeks and finished it two weeks and six days ago. Since then, he has been sitting on it and tweaking it occasionally. He has done an exceptional job. It begins like this: Waking to the sound of hyena jaws crunching femur bones is never pleasant...

The lovely and exciting Miss Tanya of Redsugar Muse does not disappoint (as if that were even an option!!) She has weaved a story of powerful emotion and imagery that tells quite the haunting tale. Outstanding!

Ms. Alexandrine of Ravynstone Abbey has a very interesting and well done take on the sketch with Dream. She leads us on a sensational journey. Well done!

More to come as Thirty Second Thoughts, Moogie's World, and Ravynstone Abbey post their takes.

Next week's line up includes:

Villains Vanquished
Down for Repairs
Key Issues
Tammi's World
Leslie's Omnibus

"We Are All Brits Now"

Courtesy of Sadie and the Llamas.

God Bless us All.

Green-Eyed Monster

So, is jealousy in a relationship a good thing or a bad thing?

Like many of us, I grew up with those mostly black and white Sunday afternoon movies filled with gallant and charming men fighting for the affection and honor of not only their respective countries, but of their lady loves.

To my adolescent mind, proper behavior for a suitor was to express rage and jealousy when other would-be suitors approached.

As I wrote in a guest-post (What a Woman Wants) over at WitNit's a couple weeks ago:

When I was a teenager, I wanted a boy to like me and want to take care of me. I wanted a boy to hold my hand, adorn me with his letter jacket and class ring, and let all the world know he thought I was pretty terrific. I wanted to belong to someone.

At eighteen, I had my first "boyfriend," a twenty-five-year-old who not only took a proprietary interest in me, but would fight at the drop of a hat to assert and protect it. Rather than feel cherished by his jealous fits, I was reduced to nothing more than chattel.

I learned through that experience and others, jealousy is no more than an expression of insecurity, not love or affection.

Now, is that to say I have never felt jealous? Not at all.

I have been jealous more than once in a relationship. I do think it is a natural human response and emotion; however, I also recognize when I feel it, I am feeling insecure about something or someone.

Conversely, to have my significant other show a small flash of jealously when another has expressed an interest in me has been a shot to the old ego; however, purposefully setting out to evoke that response in a significant other is just down right manipulative.

Whether a couple is married or not, relationships are hard.

When I first married, I admit, I was less than secure about a lot of things. At the time, the husband was away several days each week on overnight business trips. There was all manner of folly in which he could have participated and I would have been none the wiser.

Going against my passionate and paranoid nature and getting a handle on my own insecurities, I decided to take his trustworthiness on faith, more for my sake than his. I did not want to spend my time consumed with where he was or what he was doing and with whom he was doing it.

I simply vowed to myself and him, if he proved untrustworthy, more than one head would roll.

Perhaps (big smile) I just might prefer to indulge in vengence than jealousy.

For more enlightening and entertaining thoughts on this subject, please visit the ladies: Silk, Kathy, Sadie, and Guest Divaesque Lady Joan, as well as the gentlemen: Naked Villainy, Phin, Puffy, and The Wizard.

Take Two Preview

Here is Friday's sketch and line up:

Group IV - July 8th

In the early hours of morning a man wakes in a cold sweat. Disoriented, he reaches for something in the darkness. He thinks he hears something, but is unsure if it is from his dreams...

El Capitan Baboon Pirates
John Clifford Thirty Second Thoughts
Moogie Moogie's World
Tanya Redsugar Muse
Alexandrine Ravynstone Abbey

I am looking forward to see what each of these creative individuals come up with!

See you then.

That Old Soul

The four-year-old Wee One and I were driving to day school this morning.

From her perch in the back seat she was again checking out the new car. I could hear her opening things, alternately locking and unlocking the doors, rolling the window up and down, and clicking lights on and off. It's amazing what little hands and arms can reach when motivated.

When her inspection was complete she asked: "Sissy is going to get this car when she learns to drive?"

Me: "Yes, but that will be in three and a half years."

Wee One: "You are going to buy another one for you, right?"

Me: "Yes, honey."

Wee One: "I'll take a red one."

What next?!

My children both know I abhor tattling. It drives me nuts.

Mommy she did this or she did that.

GRRRRR!

In the car today Wee One was in rare form chatting up a storm about anything and everything. Ratchet jaw was hyped up and non-stop.

On the other hand, Sweet One was in a quiet and somber mood. She and I had gotten cross-ways early in the day and she sought to punish us with her brooding silence.

In my list of "do nots" for Wee One, over time I have specifically iterated: "Do not tell me if sister touches you, says something to you or does not do what you want her to do, okay?"

Well, the imp came up with a new one this morning: "Momma, Sissy is giving me the evil eye!"

I ask you, how does one not laugh at something like that?

The Cotillion

This week's hostesses of the Cotillion Ball are Little Miss Attila, the Anchoress, Reasoned Audacity, and Steal the Bandwagon.

By the way, Jody of Steal the Bandwagon has a great interview of Juliette of Baldilocks. It is well worth a read.

There is a ton of great stuff these lovely and conservative women have put together!

Many, many thanks, ladies!

Bridezilla

Apparently, late last night I was in a very weird and listless mood. I rarely watch television, but was not in the frame of mind to actually do anything else.

Channel surfing I came across this show on WE called Bridezilla. The tag line of this show is: "Watch real brides go from sweet to certifiable."

Nothing could be closer to the truth.

I don't know where they found these women, but they were all certifiable bitches. Self-centered, histrionic, and rude.

Cameras followed them around their daily lives, as well as to bridal shops for gowns, to meetings with wedding planners, the whole bit.

There are even discussion boards for the hangers on to chat about the Bridezillas.

Furthermore, each of the prospective grooms were pathetic and consumed with placating and pacifying these, these impossible women.

Oh, my. I would love to see these couples in another two or three years to see if any of them are still together.

I understand a girl's wedding day is a very special affair. It was important to me, too, when I walked down that aisle almost fifteen years ago; however, I never expected the world to stop and cater to me just because I was the bride.

When I first got engaged, I had visions of a very small chapel tucked away somewhere private with a quiet ceremony and a couple of witnesses. I wanted a beautiful gown and my groom in a tux, but I did not want the worry or hassle of a huge wedding with hundreds of guests. I thought it would be more fun and easier on ourselves and so many others if we did our thing, then had a grand party after we returned from the honeymoon with all of our family and friends.

The fiance told me that would not do and his mother would not be happy unless we had a big wedding with all the trappings. It really was not that important to me, so I conceded.

As someone blessed (cursed) with that planning gene and despite my preference to the contrary, I took great pleasure and pride in making all the arrangements necessary for our big day which included over two hundred guests.

In a six-week period, I graduated from law school, moved to a new city, studied and sat for a bar exam, started a new job, and got married, in that order. It was a very, very hectic time for me; however, I do not honestly think I was the nutcase any of these Bridzilla women were.

In fact, the groom told me on our wedding day, he was amazed I was able to take care of all the arrangements (long distance, no less) with a smile on my face. He said he had been secretly concerned I might have a melt-down before it was all over because I have a pretty serious perfectionism streak.

I felt then, as I do now, what was important was what was happening between me and him, not the ice sculpture, not the caterer or the photographer, not whether it was going to rain (it didn't), not how well the in-laws and out-laws got along, not whether we were having an open bar, not any of that peripheral stuff.

I was blessed with that perspective early on. It has been in my older age that I have begun to let the little things eat away at me. I guess I better work on that.

Hope everyone has a wonderful Independence Day. God Bless our nation.

But for the Grace of God go any of us

One of my Cotillion sisters, Carol of An American Housewife tragically and unexpectedly lost her husband, the father of her children, and the sole breadwinner of their family Thursday night.

Tammy of A Mom and Her Blog has graciously set up a paypal account for Carol.

As dear lady Jody said in an email to me and others: "no amount of money will ease her pain and the loss she feels but maybe we can help ease some of her stress and financial burden. For some of us it is our only way to show that we care."

A Cast of Characters

Well, it's a holiday weekend and Sistah Moogie has taken a moment out of her hectic and festive life to give us a GREAT start of this week's 25 Word Challenge!!

She has creatively taken some of the "characters" from her blogroll and incorporated them into her storyline. Well done, Moogie!

Here's how she started:

WitNit slapped at the alarm when it went off early that Monday morning. His sleep filled eyes landed on his thong, lying upon the dresser.

Yours truly added the first comment:

"How the heck did it get way over there?"

Before he could further, a large body on the bed next to him rolled over...

"Catfish?"

This is going to be a riot!!

Our line-up continues:

July 9 - Sweet One at Feisty Repartee
July 16 – David Spence of Fishtown Chatter
July 23 – Lippy Cat of Wired JAFA
July 30 - Mark of WitNit
August 6 - the Lovely Kate of KateSpot
August 13 - Tincanman at Tincanman
August 20 - Amelie of for a breath i tarry
August 27 - VW of One Happy Dog Speaks

Tatoes

Surfing the old blog roll usually triggers a muse or two.

Today I noticed Tammi has been checking around her place for certain balls to drop.

After reading that post, I remembered a time just before I started kindergarten, before my mom first went to work.

Back then, my mother raised bantam "banty" chickens, quail, pheasant, and rabbits to sell for extra pocket money.

Just before Easter, an elderly couple brought their two young grandsons to our place to buy a rabbit or two. For obvious reasons, the couple wanted to make sure the bunnies they purchased were the same sex, they did not want a bunny of each gender.

My mom separated all the little female bunnies in one pen and all the little male bunnies in another. The two boys each picked out their respective bunnies from the all male pen.

Before they left, the little old lady asked my mother if both bunnies were boy bunnies.

My mother nodded emphatically.

The lady then asked her how she knew for sure.

In broken English, my mother responded by turning one of the bunnies over onto its back in her hand and saying: "If you look under their tails, the boys have these two little 'tatoes'."

A bit shocked, they took their bunnies and quietly left.

Once they were gone, I turned to my mother and asked why she called them "tatoes."

I will never forget. She picked up another little boy bunny and explained: "They look like little furry new potatoes. See?"

Oh. Just what my five-year-old mind needed to know. Not.

Sensitivity Training

Call me biased, but I think both of my girls are beautiful. Sweet One is more the athletic TomBoy-type while Wee One is my dainty little girly girl who loves pink frilly things.

Last night my little family and I were seated at the kitchen table enjoying our supper.

Wee One took a bite of her steak and as she was chewing it closed her eyes in ecstasy and said: "Ummm, ummm. That is soooo good!"

She then asked: "Mommy, what kind of meat is this."

Me: "Beef."

Wee One: "What kind of animal does beef come from?"

Me: "Cows. The same creatures that give us milk."

Wee One: "I like cow meat, Mommy."

A few more bites later, she asked: "What other kinds of meat are there?"

Me: "There's poultry from chickens and turkeys, pork from pigs, and then seafood from fish, shrimp, and crawfish."

Wee One: "Oh. You know what, Mommy?"

Me: "What, Sweetie?"

Wee One: "We haven't eaten Bambi in a long time. I like to eat Bambi."

Take Two WIDE OPEN

A challenge was issued and a challenge has been answered by both bloggers and not-yet-blogging individuals.

For the past several weeks Friday Fiction has involved a short scenario which different writers have taken and made uniquely their own by creating a story, not to exceed 1000 words, based on that scenario.

The results continue to be remarkable and I delight in everyone's creativity.

This week's outline was:

Two people are seated at a diner in the early hours of the morning. One passes the other an object under the table. Without touching their coffee, first one leaves, then the other. After the parties part ways, the recipient of the object is struck by a vehicle. Someone else retrieves the object...

The first to respond was a friend named Eric of this great fella. Since Eric is a man without a blog, his story ("Pandora's Envelope") appears here. He has a clever way of setting up his story. Don't worry if you have to read it twice to figure out what's going on, it took me three tries. Don't you just love a challenge?!

The beautiful and artistic Silk shares her story Of Angels and Demons. I do believe she definitely has a novel waiting to be revealed!

Would you believe there is more than one feisty chick in blogworld?

Well, Feisty Republican Whore entered her take on the scenario with a bit of fiction which not only showcases her creativity, but her feistiness and attitude, as well. This is one woman to be taken seriously!

My good friend and the very dashing sailor of Snugg Harbor has graced us once again with a glimpse into his deep and thoughtful mind in Couples. It would appear this gentleman among gentlemen can also take a walk on the dark side.

Miss Lolly is another lady who should be blogging, but is not, at least, not at the moment. She bowled me over with her "Storms on the Horizon." I'd like to say more, but do not want to give anything away. Well done, Lolly.

Miss Nettie of Mistress Tootie Belle Rules the World proves that a story with infinite possibilities can be told with brevity. Here is her take:

My hat is off to these original thinking, creative, and clever individuals. Well done each and all.

Thank you each very much for lending your skills, time, and resourceful minds.

UPDATE!

Jody of Steal the Bandwagon has just posted her Take Two Story. It is chilling and taps into one of my own nightmares. It is also very well told. Go check it out!

Storms on the Horizon

A reader and very nice lady, Lolly left a comment to the reminder Take Two Wide Open post and indicated she was willing to give it a shot.

I am so very glad she did. Now, I am wondering why she does not yet have a blog of her own.

Here is Lolly's Take Two:

Ashley slept, but there were storms on the horizon. Dreaming only nightmares, she eventually awoke with a headache worse than any she could ever remember. Mickey on the nightstand indicated 2 a.m. She looked across the bed. Empty. Again. She had given in to sleep around midnight, realizing that waiting up for Ben wouldn’t bring him home any sooner. His drinking was becoming a real problem. And she was getting real tired of it. She hated to think what it meant. Who can think anyway with such a throbbing headache! She needed aspirin, but everything was spinning. All she could do was ease back down to the pillow. Hopefully……

“Hey, Sweetie, bring me anudder shot!”

“Sorry Ben. Jake said to cut you off. Time to go home.”

“Oh. Will you come home wif me?”

“I’d love to honey, but I’ve already got other plans. Besides, don’t you have a wife?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah….gggggggggrrrrrrp! she’s beautiful. Too good for me.” Ben stood up, stumbling towards the door. Jake watched. If he made it out the door and headed in the right direction, he’d make it home. It wasn’t far.

As Amanda’s eyes popped open, Mickey’s short arm was on 2, his long arm on 4. Twenty after two! What the hell was she doing still in bed? She jumped up and began searching for something to wear. That girl has no good clothes, she thought. She frantically pulled on some jeans that would just have to do. Then realized the nylon pajama chemise was just the right touch. With the spaghetti straps and no bra, she ought to get some attention. She grabbed the highest heels she could find, put on more makeup, and clipped up her curly hair, leaving a few tendrils hanging free. Yep, she looked damned good. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long.

Three minutes later she sat down at a table just inside the all-night diner across the street, with a clear view of anyone entering. The waitress brought coffee and filled both upturned cups with the steaming brew. Amanda searched her purse, pulled out a business card and wrote her name and apartment number on the back. As if right on cue, she looked up to see a forty-something man entering the diner, about half-fit and decently dressed. She perked up and thought, “He should do just fine.” They made eye contact and Amanda smiled invitingly, “Hey handsome. I’ve got your coffee right here.” He looked a bit surprised, but recognizing fineness, didn’t hesitate accepting the chair just to her left.

“Well, well, have we met before?”

“No, but I think we should. My name’s Amanda.” With the card in her right hand, she reached across under the table as she stood up, brushing his crotch with the card and tucking it into the top of his slacks. His right hand met hers and took the card. As her pulse quickened, she managed to say, “I’m going to bed now. Come on over if you want …..” She whispered the rest in his ear, leaning down so her nylon-clad nipples pressed into his shoulder. Then she headed for the door. Speechless, he watched her backside wave goodbye. She threw one more smile over her bare shoulder as she headed to the apartment building across the street.

“Wow,” he thought. He hadn’t been hit on like that in quite awhile. He looked at the business card. “Benjamin A. Johnson. Auto, Home, & Life Insurance.” And on the back, “Amanda. #202.” Hmmm. Maybe he’d go check her out. She was awfully hot, and he actually had a pretty good feeling about her. As he stood up, the semi-hard bulge in his pants confirmed that feeling. He headed out the door, trying to think of reasons why he shouldn’t follow her home; but the feel of her tits was still on his shoulder and her whispered promises filled his ears. When he stepped off the curb behind a parked car he didn’t notice the one without lights heading straight for him.

Before he knew what hit him, he was history, smashed between the two vehicles. Ben Johnson, across the street in a drunken stupor, was finally arriving home. He heard the crash and looked up to see the worst of it piling up at the front door of the diner. He noticed a card come flying over and land at his feet. He pick it up and stuffed it in his pocket as he headed for the diner. Somebody was hollering to call 911. A few others were trying to check on the man inside the car. Ben couldn’t think straight so he went inside to get coffee. He sat down and watched the ministrations happening outside. Another fucking statistic for the books. He wondered if they had insurance. He wondered if they had family that would be devastated. Probably. What were they doing out in the middle of the night anyway? What was he doing out in the middle of the night? He got up to go home. Home to his beautiful, waiting wife. . .

Up in #202, Ashley Amanda Kramer Johnson had left the door unlocked, one lamp on. She had taken a couple of aspirin, kicked off her high heels, pulled off her jeans and gone back to bed, hoping the man would arrive soon. Hoping he would also be inclined to kiss her and maybe act like she was special. She closed her eyes, thinking of what she wanted him to do to her and slowly drifted off to sleep, unaware of the flashing lights down below at the diner.

Ben came through the front door, slightly irritated that Ashley had forgotten to lock it. He went straight to the bed, stripped off his clothes, and snuggled up to his beautiful sleeping wife. They slept, but there were storms on the horizon.

Pandora's Envelope

This week is Take Two Wide Open.

Our first contributor's name is Eric and he is a non-blogging buddy of my friend, That 1 Guy. Both gentlemen are wildly creative.

I delightfully present, Eric's 1000 words:

"Everything just turned white," Bob would admit later. "There was no
car, no street, no envelope, no Janet, no me, just a white blank. Then
like a flickering light, it all started coming back. I saw the
steering wheel, then my hands, and then the blood. I can recall how
frighteningly silent everything was except for Janet's crying. I only
felt relief, until I saw that envelope. Then I fell into a strange
sense of darkness. That's all I remember."

Bob felt his right foot give way. The green Jaguar sped through the
intersection. The front end of the car swept under the young man's
legs, toppling him violently on to the hood. His body slid into the
windshield, cracking it like an egg. The car slammed into a silver
Mercedes parked on the side of the street. The young man's body was
hurled from the windshield, bounced off the parked car, and landed
broken and twisted in the street. Bob lifted his bleeding face from
the steering wheel. Jammed into the windshield was the envelope,
mocking him to the tragic end.

It was all so humiliating. The way they touched each other, and then
separated, only to begin laughing, like they had some naughty secret.
Bob's head pounded, "What am I doing here?" Still, he couldn't take
his eys off them. He watched closely as Janet pulled the envelope out
of her blouse and pressed it into her lover's hand. Then she
passionately kissed him. Bob knew he had to leave at that point. He
was done torturing himself. He left the parking lot, and was stopped
at the stoplight adjacent to the cafe. To Bob's amazement, he found
himself thirty feet away from Janet's lover, who was in the crosswalk
on the other side of the intersection.

He ran down to the parking garage, jumped into his Jaguar, and sped
off after Janet. A block down the road, Bob slowed down when he saw
Janet walking. He didn't want her to notice him following her. She
entered the neighborhood cafe, and Bob pulled into an empty parking
lot acrosse the street. He could see Janet quite well from where he
was positioned, and he was convinced that she hadn't seen him. Janet
sat down at a table next to a young, well-dressed, Hispanic man. It
was Carlos, no doubt about it. Bob felt a heavy pounding in his head.
The alcohol and lack of sleep were beginning to take their toll on
him.

Ten minutes later, Janet came running out of the bathroom and into the
kitchen. Then out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Bob, we're
out of coffee. I'm going to get some, you want any?" Bob shook his
head. Out the door she ran. He went into the kitchen and opened a
cabinet door. The jar of coffee beans was still half full. "That slut.
Who does she think she's fooling? I'm gonna bust her ass right now!"

In the morning, Bob watched Janet run around the apartment. She was in
some kind of a hurry. She said nothing to him, despite him not going
to bed with her the night before, or his nasty demeanor towards her
that morning. He thought he heard her voice, while she was in the
bathroom, getting dressed. He decided to spy on her. He held his ear
up to the door. Sure enough, she was on the cell phone, "... okay,
fifteen minutes. Love you, bye!" He looked down. The envelope was
missing from the vanity. He went back to the couch to sulk.

That night, Janet fell asleep before him. She slept like she didn't
have a care in the world. "That bitch!" Bob was furious. He stayed
awake all night getting drunk on left over wine. For some reason he
didn't want Janet to know that he knew. He was angry, he was scared,
and he was alone. After the wine was gone, he sat in the darkness,
wallowing in misery.

The shower shut off. "Oh my god! Bob are you home?! Bob is that you?!"
He quickly shoved the contents back into the little white envelope,
then ran out of the bedroom, and jumped onto the couch. Janet came
running out seconds later. She was naked and wet, just a towel barely
covering her. "Bob, you're home?" She was alarmed.
"Yeah, I came home early."
"Bad day at work?"
"Yup. It was shitty."
He wouldn't look at her. He picked up the remote, and feverishly
flipped channels. Janet went back into the bedroom, and shut the door.

Bob tip-toed into the master bedroom. He noticed a little white
envelope on Janet's vanity near the shower. It was open, so he picked
it up, and pulled out the contents; a Polaroid of Janet naked and in a
seductive pose. "Maybe Janet has a suprise for me, too!" It was unlike
her to do such a thing. There was a note attached that read:

Just two weeks, and I'll be back in your arms. Here's
something to keep me in your thoughts. My dearest Carlos, I will be
missing you and thinking of you constantly. I love you,
Janet

Coming home early from work that day, Bob could hardly contain
himself. He wanted to tell her about his secret plans. Maybe he could
tell her now, and she would be so overwhelmed by the good news, that
they would end up making love right then and there. She was in the
shower, and had no idea he was home. She would come out all naked and
wet, he would tell her, and she would find him so romantic. It was
perfect.

It was all coming together now. Years and years of working twelve hour
days, it all led up to this very moment. He had never been around
much, but he had given Janet a penthouse apartment, a Jaguar, a maid;
everything money could buy. Now after twenty years, Bob was going to
retire early. It was a suprise to Janet for their twenty-fifth wedding
anniversary. He would spring it on her when they left for their trip
to Acapulco tomorrow. "Tomorrow is the beginning of our best years
together," Bob boasted.