Welcome to Nature.
When you live in the country, like we do, you feel a kinship with Nature. But you must never lose sight of the fact that Nature isn’t all Bambi and butterflies. Sometimes, Nature is fanged demons of destruction that want to eat you.
Some sights you see while sightseeing in the summer.
In the winter, the geese fly south.
In the spring, the swallows return to Capistrano.
In the summer…in the summer…I can’t think of anything involving birds that means summer is here. Instead I’ve got my…
Top 10 Signs that Summer Has Arrived
“Let’s go out to eat tonight.”
I hate roughing it on the chef’s night off!
I’m sorry, sir, but we have a strict hipster dress code. Would you care to borrow a pair of skinny jeans and some black glasses?
Let me top off that coffee, honey. Did you save room for coconut cream pie?
What the hell – supersize it, babe! It’s not every day we have a 25th anniversary.
Would madam care for a quart of Valvoline with her tube steak?
Same words + different people = different meanings
It’s all a matter of expectations.
This post was my Father’s Day gift to my Dad last year. It is one of my (and my readers’) favorites.
I love you, Dad!
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Men and women don’t see the same world.
I’m not saying one vision is better than the other – they’re just different. I also don’t pretend to represent Every Woman, but I suspect this will sound familiar to many. Now that we’ve got the disclaimers out of the way…
The following is a true and faithful account of a real-life event. Come with me now on a roller coaster ride through the female brain. Mine.
Ah, spring.
The love of the soil is buried deep in our collective conscience. Each year the sap rises and our spirits lift in song, in an ancient ritual older than memory. We are druid priestesses anew, dancing at Beltane. We thirst; we yearn to dig in the rich, loamy earth. She is our mother, the source of all life springing forth anew!
Oh my darling clementines, I must leave you now. I’m heading out-of-town for a weekend of family fun in the great state of Michigan. (Michigan – it’s a state of mind.)
I will be incommunicado. Not only that, Gilligan, but I probably won’t be anywhere near a computer.
I won’t be able to nag you (by which I mean gently suggest) to go vote for me over at the caption contest at Good Greatsby’s blog. And did I mention how lovely/handsome you’re looking today?
No smack will I be able to talk with Darla at She’s a Maineiac over that very same contest.
No humble exhortations will I be able to toss out about voting for my entry in k8did’s Envy writing competition. (Where Darla is AGAIN dogging my footsteps using such underhanded methods as stellar writing!)
Until Monday, dearies (I keep almost saying chipmunks – sorry Jules) when I discover whether or not my life will have caption-contest-victory meaning, or if the bitter taste of defeat will be in my mouth. Let me leave you now with an inspiring quote and my heartfelt wishes for a wonderful weekend.
“It’s Friday! Let’s party like it’s the weekend!”
I’ve been to this rodeo before. If you don’t mind the mixed metaphors.
It seems like only yesterday, yet it was a long, LONG (really very long) time ago that I was last a finalist in the caption contest over at The Good Greatsby’s blog. Some would say I belong in the finals EVERY time, but that’s not important now. I am on the short list.
A family of love
As any woman can tell you, nothing is more crucial for perky boobs than good support. Last weekend it seemed the whole city of Chicago turned out to provide that support – for breast cancer research.
What's up with THIS?
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 