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5 Things to Make Me Feel at Home

imageI am most at home in my kitchen surrounded by few of  my most-loved  and well-used things.  As soon as I expect company, the tea-kettle and coffee-maker, both gifts from my daughter, are notified.  As water boils in my ancient copper tea-kettle, I grind coffee beans in the battered coffee-mill.   Soon tea steeps in the butterfly teapot a sister gave me while I fill my polka-dot chicken creamer and sugar bowl.  A plate of cookies, snacks or hot biscuits and a few flowers from my yard brighten the home-crafted drop leaf table my husband built.  The  tiny table-topper cloth came to me from another sister. Although in the past, I prided myself on newer things, these old favorites warm my heart today and say “Welcome,  Friend” like nothing else.

“Come on in and sit awhile.”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Home Turf.”

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Wicked Chuckle

A couple comes up to a wishing well. The guy leans over, makes a wish, and throws in a penny. His wife decides to make a wish, too, but she leans over too far, falls into the well, and drowns.

The guy says, “Son of a… it works!”

Father O’Grady was saying his goodbyes to the parishioners after his Sunday morning service as he always does when Mary Clancey came up to him in tears. “What’s bothering you so, dear?” inquired Farther O’Grady. “Oh, father, I’ve got terrible news,” replied Mary. “Well what is it, Mary?” “Well, my husband, passed away last night, Father.” “Oh, Mary” said the father, “that’s terrible. Tell me Mary, did he have any last requests?” “Well, yes he did father,” replied Mary. “What did he ask, Mary?” Mary replied, “He said, ‘Please, Mary, put down the gun…'”

The old man had died. A wonderful funeral was in progress and the town’s preacher talked at length of the good traits of the deceased, what an honest man he was, and what a loving husband and kind father he was.

Finally, the widow leaned over and whispered to one of her children, “Go up there and take a look in the coffin and see if that’s your pa.”

In a dark and gloomy room, the fortune teller was startled by what she saw in her crystal ball. She looked up at her customer sitting across the table.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year.”

Visibly shaken, the woman stared at the psychic’s lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands.

She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She simply had to know. She met the fortune teller’s gaze, steadied her voice, and asked, “Will I get away with it?”

Camping

   image Dirty Dog

image

We just got back from camping on the Gulf Coast.  We had fun and I learned a couple of things. First of all, if you think you might fall and bust your fanny, carry your extra glasses.  I was standing behind the trailer trying to wave Bud in as he backed the trailer up and Buzzy wrapped me in his leash, plopping me flat on my keester. I fell flat, banging right on my glasses.   I hadn’t gotten in Bud’s line of vision yet, so he thought I’d wandered off, as I am prone to do.  He continued backing up, but fortunately I was able to get out of the way before he flattened me.

Although the fall did kill my glasses, I escaped.  I was worried whether I would have a black eye, but luckily I didn’t.  If I had, I would have to have blacked both Bud’s eyes or I would have been ashamed to be seen when we met friends later.  I was able to get the frames replaced, using the same lenses.  What a relief.  I had dreaded trying to get by with just reading glasses till I could get new ones made.  I will never go off without a spare again.

Buzzy had a fine time camping as always.  We patrolled the camp several times a day.  He got to meet new dogs, see an alligator, smell the Gulf, roll in some different flavors of mud, walk on the beach, and sleep in the camper.  His favorite part of camping is sitting on the bench seat between us at meals.  He doesn’t get a place at the table at home.

Dear Auntie Linda, September 21, 2015

Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  I am a good kid in a miserable situation.  My mother is mentally ill. When she gets off her medication,  I don’t know from one minute to the next what she might do or who or what she might come dragging in.  My dad works out of town and she manages to pull herself together when he comes in, but trying to go to school, work, and keep things running at home are exhausting me. My brother and I have both mowed, babysat, and done any odd job we could since we were old enough to work to have money for food and clothes.   I have come home and found strange people in the house.  She has given away furniture.  I make sure the rent and utilities are paid as soon as her disability check comes in, but she is as likely as not to spend the rest on junk.  I have come in from school and found forty yards of fabric, or old furniture from a junk sale piled under the carport and no food in the house.  I buy groceries out of what I make, but I have to keep them in the trunk of my car or they just disappear.  Mom is obsessive about my fifteen-year-old brother, often trying to keep him out of school when she is most confused.  I worry about her all the time, but dread going home.  I graduate from high school this year and have a scholarship for college, but worry about what will happen to Mom and my brother if I do.  How can I ever have a life?  Old Man at Seventeen

Dear Old Man, I feel for you.  This is way too heavy a burden for you and your brother.  You have to tell your dad how bad things are and that he has to take responsibility for your mother. He obviously has been able to ignore problems since you are there to take care of things.  Make sure he knows everything she does and let him deal with it.  It is time for you to make a life for yourself.  He is likely to dump the load on your brother as long as he can.  No doubt, things will fall apart once you go off to college, but you can’t sacrifice your life to keep propping things up at home.  Good luck.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  Somebody is stealing my underwear off the clothesline.  Nothing else goes missing, just my skimpies.  I haven’t been able to catch anyone, but I had a pair go missing last week and another this week.  What in the world do I do?  I am worried there is a pervert in the neighborhood.  Bare Bottomed Before Long.

Dear Bare Bottomed,  Try hanging some big old granny panties and some boxers out instead of skimpies.  That should discourage anybody.  Sounds like you might need to hang your skimpies on the shower rod.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  We sometimes have pot luck lunches at the hospital where I work.  A signup list is posted weeks ahead, so everybody knows and can bring a dish.  The problem is, people from other areas of the hospital drop in who haven’t contributed and help themselves.  Also, there are a some who fix a plates to take home or even take a whole dish.  We have had whole containers just disappear.  Why in the world would people be so greedy?  How do you keep the pigs out?  Cleaned Out

Dear Cleaned Out, You hit the nail on the head.  Some people are just greedy pigs with no pride.  Unless you can set your buffet up in an area where people can be observed making off with the goodies, it is hard.  I suppose you could give out tickets, post a sign, Whatever Department Holiday Dinner Only or post a lookout to discourage moochers.  Auntie Linda

Joke of the Day

Three Rednecks were working up on a cell phone tower: Cooter, Ronnie and Donnie. As they start their descent Cooter slips, falls off the tower and is killed instantly.

As the ambulance takes the body away, Ronnie says, “Well, damn, someone should go and tell his wife.”

Donnie says, “OK, I’m pretty good at that sensitive stuff, I’ll do it.”

Two hours later, he comes back carrying a case of Budweiser.

Ronnie says, “Where did you get that beer, Donnie?”

“Cooter’s wife gave it to me,” Ronnie replies.


“That’s unbelievable, you told the lady her husband was dead and she gave you beer?”

“Well, not exactly,” Donnie says. “When she answered the door, I said to her, ‘You must be Cooter’s widow'”.

She said, “You must be mistaken, I’m not a widow.”

Then I said, “I’ll bet you a case of Budweiser you are.”

Three dead bodies turn up at the mortuary, all with very big smiles on their faces.The coroner calls the police to tell them what has happened.

Coroner tells the Inspector: “First body: A Frenchman, 72, died of heart failure while with his mistress. Hence the enormous smile.”

“Second body: “Irishman, 25, won a thousand dollars on the lottery, spent it all on whiskey. Died of alcohol poisoning, hence the smile.”

The Inspector asked, “What of the third body?”

“Ah,” says the coroner, “This is the most unusual one. Joe JR, the Redneck from Neon, Kentucky, 30, struck by lightning.”

“Why is he smiling then?” inquires the Inspector.

“Thought he was having his picture taken.”

Two guys are out hunting deer. The first guy asks, “Did you see that?”

“No,” the second guy says.

“Well, a bald eagle just flew overhead,” the first guy says.

“Oh,” says the second guy.

A couple of minutes later, the first guy says, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” the second guy asks.

“Are you blind? There was a big, black bear walking on that hill, over there.”

“Oh.”

A few minutes later the first guy says, “Did you see that?”

By now, the second guy is getting aggravated, so he says, “Yes, I did!”

And the first guy says: “Then why did you step in it?”

A drunk walks into a bar and orders a glass of whisky. He takes several gulps and… dies a sudden death.

In Heaven he begs of God, “Please, bring me back to the bar for a moment. I just want to finish drinking. There is still half a glass of whiskey left. You can even turn me into a fly or a spider, just let me drink it up.”

So God agrees, turns the drunk into a spider and take him back to the bar. The drunk finds himself on the bar ceiling, just right over the unfinished glass of whiskey.

“How can I reach for it from here?”, the drunk asks God.

“You are a spider, aren’t you? So you can make some web. Exert yourself and it’ll come out of you, so you can go down to your glass.”

The drunk exerts himself and a web really begins to come out of him. He exerts himself again and again going down to the glass. Suddenly the web stops.

“What should I do now? I’m doing my best, but there is no more web!”

“Exert yourself as hard as you can!”, God advises.

The drunk makes one more effort with his last bit of strength and… Suddenly he feels someone tap on his shoulder… and hears his wife’s voice, “John, wake up! You’ve pooped your pants!!!!