Dancing Queen
Posted: December 2, 2010 Filed under: Mouths of Babes, Noxious Evils, Writers Write | Tags: family, songs in my head, Trusting Your Instincts, writers, writing 2 Comments »At Thanksgiving, Cookie Crisp brought the movie Mama Mia. She thought the girls would like it. A movie musical usually goes over at our house. It sure did. Over. And over. And over.
I survived ABBA the first time. When I taught high school, I had to ban it from the audio cassette player on trips in the school mini-van. They had cassette players then, before iPods. The music isn’t offensive–the first time you hear it. The problem is you keep hearing it. Dancing Queen is a carcinogenic ear worm.
This morning Cherry came into my room before school. ”Mom, make it stop. Please make it stop. It’s been seven days.”
I applied the only known cure for Mama Mia, Bob Dylan. I hope he works.
Spamarama
Posted: July 7, 2010 Filed under: Noxious Evils, Writers Write | Tags: Trusting Your Instincts Leave a comment »WordPress does a good job keeping out the unwanted. I’m able to see the site you come from. Read comments in advance, and gag over some of the Google searches, but WP hasn’t figured out the Referrers problem. Here is a sampling of click overs from the last month.
- click to read
With a few exceptions, it’s an eclectic assortment of places I don’t want to go produced by automated drones sent to infiltrate my world. Every morning, I check the stats page, and there’s a new one. Part of me wants to click and peak, but as a grown-up, I know that some places are best left alone.
Heavy Cleaning
Posted: April 27, 2010 Filed under: cottage garden, Housekeeping, Noxious Evils, Writers Write | Tags: backyard pond, cottage garden, creativity, garden, loss, water garden, writers, writing Leave a comment »The people down the street owned one of those makeover-for-your-garage franchises. They ran the business out of their house. Other than the trucks, things were fine. At least, until they got ready to move.
That’s when the garage sales started. For three consecutive weeks, junk spilled out of the house and onto the lawn. It was obvious. They organized garages by taking the clutter home with them. At the end of the third week, a driver dodging a bookshelf, ran into a tree, cracking the largest limb into the street. Another neighbor called code compliance.
The garage experts are gone now, leaving a pile of unsellables by the curb. I made this out of some of their garbage.
