Saturday, July 31, 2010

Saturday Centus - Week 13 link

Jenny Matlock

The prompt is in bold below.

********************************************

I was almost ashamed of my dramatic reaction. The weeping, the wailing, the stuttering emotional inability to complete a coherent sentence.

The stunned silence on the other end of the phone attested to my theatrical response to the telephone call.

After composing myself, I said very calmly, “Thank you Mr. Zhameed Ecanofostravilla for calling me. I’ve been trying to get this fixed for 10 days, that’s why it meant so much to me that you contacted me!”

Using the name of the Vice-President of Internet Abuse had opened the door! The elusive spam black-list department was finally calling me back.

Watch out e-mail. Here I come!



This post is linked to Saturday Centus week 13. Click here to read the other links!

*******

In my ongoing saga of despair on being blocked from sending most e-mails, I finally contacted the Atlanta office of Cox Communications. A very sweet VP of Abuse returned my call and told me how to get help. He also told me to use his name in my requests for assistance. Friday I finally got an actual phone call from someone whose name closely resembles that of the one used in my little story. Mr. Ecanofostravilla told me it would take some time but he would PERSONALLY see to it that I was removed from all the spam black-lists. I'm hoping this will be resolved by mid-week. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed for luck.

And, hey, do you by any chance know my ex-husband? If you don't, you might want to call him so he can tell you that I am a horrible nag so you won't be surprised when I nag you now. I just finished visiting Week 12's links and a lot of them didn't get visited. Please take a moment and go give all the links a read. They are really fun and I know you will be happy you did! Just click here to go to the links! And then I won't have to become "the nagging woman who makes your life a living hell and makes you regret you were ever born" (to paraphrase the ex - ha!)

Thanks!

post signature

Saturday Centus - "That's why it meant so much..."

Jenny Matlock
Welcome to week thirteen of Saturday Centus.

Again, thanks for a totally wonderful week of reading. If you didn't get to visit all the links from Tom's guest prompt last week, please make a little time this weekend to do so. They are really creative and fun!

In case you've forgotten...

This is a themed writing meme.

Each Saturday you will be giving a new "prompt" for the week and you have the entire week to link your work to the meme and you can link more than one story if you like.

Each linked essay must be 100 words or less, not including the "prompt" words. No pictures should be used. No profanity. The prompt words can be used in any place within your story but must be left intact. You cannot split the prompt.

Please display link button or just a hyper-link back to Saturday Centus. Be careful to link your SC URL to the Linky and not just link to your main blog.

I would suggest that since these are so short, if you can't think of a title just use your blog name as the title in the Linky.

Try to visit each one because they are tremendous and since they are so short they are definitely a quick read!

Please e-mail me directly with ???'s or ask your question in a comment and I will do my best to get back to you as soon as possible.

This weeks prompt was contributed by one of our regular contributors but he/she asked to remain anonymous. If you have prompts you would like me to use send them along!

WEEK 13 PROMPT

"That's why it meant so much...


This link will be live until next Saturday morning around 7 am. And please, remember to link to your SC URL...not your main blog. If you are unsure how to do this please leave me a message in the comments or e-mail me and I'll help you through it! Have fun!

post signature

Friday, July 30, 2010

Saturday Centus - Tom's Prompt

Jenny Matlock

Tom wrote the prompt this week. I had a difficult time with this short story until I just let my mind go its own direction! Tom, you made us work! The prompt is in bold below.
* * * * * * * * * * * *

When my children were young we did a lot of road trips. Put three kids in a beat-up old sedan and driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-aoke and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good times.

But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it? My pulse quickened as I passed the road sign which read "Medford 27 miles."


I had not planned on stopping, but maybe I would. Thirty minutes later I turned into the facility.

After the stern-faced guard patted me down, I stepped up to the heavy metal door. “Remember,” he said grimly, “Don’t touch, hug or kiss the prisoners.”

In the long moments waiting for the buzz of the door to release me into the prison visitation room, I smiled to myself.

In the litany of “don’ts”, the guard hadn’t cautioned me against singing.

* * * * * * *

This short, short story is exactly 100 words - not including the prompt.

To read other Saturday Centus stories for week 12, just click here!


post signature

Listen...I need a favor...


I am all kinds of frustrated with this whole computer spammer black-list nightmare ALTHOUGH today in sheer desperation I called Cox's Corporate offices in Atlanta, Georgia and asked to talk to the CEO of the company. It's true. The receptionist girl (who, by the way, spoke perfect English) asked what my call was in regards to and I told her I was being black-listed by her company and I wanted someone to fix it. "Oh," she said in a sweet Georgia drawl, "You're going to want to talk to Mark about that," and she transferred me.

Not 30 minutes later, a very sweet sounding Southern man called me back. It wasn't Mark but I didn't care. Andrew was all kinds of helpful and looked at all my records and all my complaints and told me how to try and get help and he told me I could use his name and he would call me back and cool stuff like that.

But because of the error message I keep getting, I first needed to be sure there was no "bot" or "virus" stuff on my computer. I used a cool tech guy who remotely operated my computer for almost the entire afternoon and poked around trying to find bad things inside my computer.(Why can't people clean my house remotely is what I'd like to know?)

He found a few things and fixed them but the e-mail problem persists. Arrrggghhh!

So now I will continue with step two of finding out what is wrong tomorrow ...

So...

I am totally behind in everything from e-mails to Alphabe-Thursday to Saturday Centus. And I must also add that even though I can sometimes get e-mails out, most of them come back blocked from your service because I am a .... gulp .... spammer.

I hope you can continue to be patient with me.

But that's not the favor.

Here's the favor.

I don't know about you, but when I am majorly stressed out over stuff like this I want to eat sweet stuff ... for some reason I think ingesting these caloric treats will make me feel better. And while I am heroicly resisting the siren call of carbs for comfort, I have an idea that will help make it easier.

Since Buffy and I parted ways last Sunday I have been UNABLE TO EAT CHICKEN! It's true. I just can't do it. I picked it out of a casserole earlier in the week. I couldn't even make Mr. Jenny a left-over chicken salad sandwich because the whole idea just weirded me out.

So what I need from you guys is to let me watch your bakery and/or chocolate shop for several weeks.

I'm certain if I do this I will "bond" with the sweets and then become unable to eat them.

This seems like a perfect solution to my stress-induced sweet cravings.

Dontcha think?

So, listen... I can start really soon, especially if you are willing to let me use your e-mail while I'm sugar-sitting.

And because you'll be doing me a big favor I will be happy to watch your store for FREE!

Yes, you heard me correctly.

For two weeks I will watch your bakery and/or chocolate shop and use your e-mail at absolutely no charge to you.

What a deal!

And although your comment or your e-mail letting me know how soon you need me to be at your shop will probably get to me...

I can't get a message back to you.

So...here's what I'm thinking. If you look toward the Arizona horizon you will be able to see smoke signals sending my reply back to you.
I feel a lot better now!

I love it when a plan comes together!

Sigh...

post signature

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Red is for Julia...


Our oldest Grand.
And grand she is.

Born with just the faintest blush of red peach fuzz, Julia went on to grow a mop of curly, dark red hair.

Oh, that hair was a magnet.
Whenever we would go to the store her hair seemed to shine like a beacon ... especially to older folks.

Julia was always a happy, outgoing little girl and when people would approach the shopping cart she would always get this funny, little look on her face like she was thinking, "here we go again."
More often than not an older person would stand by the cart, tears welling in their eyes and say "My Mom (Dad, Sister, Aunt, Grandmother) had red hair..." and then begin telling a story. Julia would observe solemnly with her big blue eyes round with worry. I could see her little mind working...who was this person weeping over her hair again?
When I take her places now she still gets comments and looks...

But there seemed to be something really magnetic about red, curly hair on a cute little girl that brought out a lot of emotion in people.

Although, to be honest, once she started learning her colors, she corrected people quite often by saying "My hair is orange!"

Red or orange, though, this is my link to Alphabe-Thursdays Summer School for the color RED!

Click here to visit other Rainbow Red Summer School posts!

post signature

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Alphabe-Thursday's Rainbow Summer School

Good morning class! Welcome to week one of our Rainbow Summer School. This week will be focused on:
Your link this week can consist of anything that relates to the color red in any way, shape or form!

But before you head off to link I want to announce the Grand Prize Winner from Alphabe-Thursday! I'm sorry this took so long to calculate.

Links from the letters C - Alphabet Soup TOTALLED 1,835.

True Random Number Generator

Min: 1
Max: 1835
Result: 429


#429 is Comment 43 under the letter "J" which is this post! Mumsy! Congratulations! Please e-mail me at: jennymatlock at cox dot net to claim your prize!

And I will totally admit that calculating this took me a long, long time. What a complicated giveaway. I'm a dork for sure!

Moving on before my head explodes from any residual math stress...

Remember to try and visit as many blogs as you can this week. Just because it's "Summer School" doesn't get you out of this fun homework!

We'll just stick with our normal method of trying to distribute comments more evenly.

So that we can distribute comments a bit more evenly, if your first name starts with the letters A - L please start reading the odd posts first starting with link number 1.

If your first name starts with the letters M - Z please start reading the even posts first starting with link number 2.

I also want to let you know that each week I visit every blog. I noticed a blog today where my comment didn't show up. If it appears I haven't visited your blog by Sunday night, please let me know, because it is important to me to make sure you know I've visited you!

If you have any difficulties with your link please make sure to include the number of the link when you e-mail me. It is really difficult for me to find them otherwise.

If you have any questions about Alphabe-Thursday or problems doing your link just post it in a comment or send me an e-mail. I'll do my best to help you.

The McLinkey will be live from 6:00 pm MST time Wednesday night through 8:00 am MST time Friday morning!

And remember.... link back to this post, you need to be registered as a follower of my blog, PG posts only, and try to visit all the other students according to the letter of your first name! The links will stay live after the final post deadline has passed so you can even wait and visit over the weekend or whenever you have more time.

Class is dismissed. Please feel free to post your Rainbow Summer School link now for the color RED:

post signature

A thwarted dream...

When I was a young girl I always wanted to be an entomologist.

And just because a dream is difficult doesn't mean you shouldn't attempt to achieve it.

My particular aspiration was made even more complicated by the simple fact that I totally hated bugs.

But dream I did.

I wanted to wear the cool hat.

I wanted to carry the cool magnifying glass.

I just didn't want the bugs.

And in my entomology-wannabe training I learned a lot of things.

I learned, for instance, that this is a cockroach...

And I learned, for instance, that this is NOT a cockroach. This is a black rock.


However...

I'm wondering if extremely myopic entomologists ever go on to become great in their fields.

Because...

If, for instance, an extremely myopic entomologist were to encounter, say, a black rock left in the shower stall by a grandchild...
And then the poor, terrified entomologist were to start screaming like an idiot and cause Mr. Entomologist to rush into the bathroom prepared for blood and mayhem only to encounter a terrified Mrs. Entomologist cowering in the corner of the bathroom screaming for someone, anyone to kill the huge cockroach...

Well...

Do you think they would last long in their entomology dream?

I think...

Perhaps...

...they would not...

Not that this particular scenario has ever happened to me, but it could if possibly one day a Granddaughter would leave a cockroach shaped rock in the bathroom and if I encountered this rock without my glasses on I could, conceivably, think it was a roach and could, conceivably, scream like an idiot until Mr. Jenny gave me my glasses so I could see that it was only a black rock.

And this is just conjecture. This totally would never happen to me because I can totally tell the difference between a black rock and a cockroach.

So any resemblance to any instances like this with persons living or dead would just be a total coincidence because I would never, ever give Mr. Jenny a heart attack by doing something like this to him.

And…

Huh?

No…

No, you can’t have his e-mail address or his office phone number. He doesn’t need to be bothered verifying if something like this has ever happened at our house on a Monday night.

He is a busy, busy man.

But, I will leave you with this deep thought.

Dreams.

They die hard sometimes.

And I think I am finally willing to admit I will probably not ever be a bug scientist in this lifetime.

Sigh...

PS. Still working through e-mail issues so don't feel ignored. I still like you. Even if you aren't an entomologist.

post signature

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Spam girl draws CSN winner

That sounds like a National Enquirer headline, doesn't it?

After spending another 5 hours on hold with our Internet provider (at least business services has better Muzak! ha!) I am curently testing a new internet threshold (or something like that!) So far it's having problems, again, so thank you for your patience while I try to get my communication issue resolved!

However, I am going to post the winner of the CSN giveaway and I truly hope I can e-mail you to tell you that you won! Fingers crossed!

So...I asked Mr. Random Org and asked him to pick a winner from 155 entries. Here's what he told me:

Here are your random numbers:
29
Timestamp: 2010-07-27 22:24:32 UTC


Comment 29 corresponds with this entry:

Carol said...
I am a stalker...everyday! =)


Congratulations Carol. You have won a $60.00 CSN gift card! Woo hoo for you!

I am going to post that you are a winner on your blog!

Please e-mail (jennymatlock at cox dot net) the e-mail address you would like your gift card sent to!

If I can't e-mail back I'll confirm on your blog that I received your information!

Thanks for playing, thanks for your patience, and I am going to get back on the speaker phone now!

AND the winner from Alphabe-Thursday will be announced tomorrow night! I'm still working on that, too. Wow, there are a lot of entrants!

post signature

Story-Time Tuesday Chapter 15

If you missed TALES FROM HOME - Chapter 14, just click here to read it.
Jenny Matlock

TALES FROM HOME - Chapter Fifteen

The girls wondered if there could be anything more delicious then the sun warmed berries with which they filled their mouths.

While Julia had been working hard inside the house, Riley and Morgan had been working hard outside. The weeds had all been cleared from the rectangular beds edged with stone and each area was filled to overflowing with vegetables and fruits.

During the exploration of the barn, Morgan had spied a box of dusty glass jars filled with seeds, their labels printed carefully on brittle masking tape. “Green beans” was written on one label; “carrots” and “tomatoes” on others. Riley and Morgan had carefully worked up the soil in the beds and then planted row after row of vegetables. Although many seeds did not sprout, enough grew to fill the beds with beautiful plants in many shades of green.

Riley had done her best to make the rickety wooden fence around the garden area more sturdy and now the little gate hung straight and true. Morgan stood by it now, dancing from one foot to another waiting for her slowpoke sisters!

Just as she was running out of the gate, Julia remembered something she’d wanted to bring from the house. “Riley, Morgan! Wait for me!” she yelled as she ran back inside.

“We’re going to see Mr. Cat! See you in the barn!”

Heading straight to the low bookshelf in the living room, Julia grabbed her favorite rock, the heart-shaped one with gold, amber and purple ribbons running through it. She held it in her hand for a brief moment and then tucked it carefully in her pocket before running out the door, down the steps, through the gate and toward the little barn.

As she ran toward it, she saw her sisters had already slid the peeling doors back. Stepping from the sunlight into the darkened space, it took Julia’s eyes a moment to adjust! “Where are they?” she said to the empty space.

“Back here,” came the quiet reply. And there, hidden behind old stacks of straw bales and the little green tractor was Mr. Cat curled up in a bed of straw. Beside her four little kittens lay sleeping.

Morgan and Riley were crouched carefully beside their friend, petting her silky calico head. Mr. Cat purred and purred from their happy attention. “Julia, look,” said Riley softly, “They’re getting so big.” Julia crouched down beside her sisters and looked carefully at the four small surprises with their cunning little pink noses and tiny, down soft bodies.

“This is boring,” huffed Morgan, “Let’s go explore!”

And closing the sliding door as quietly as they could, off they went!

Off they ran past the small shed that they had rescued three chipped, red rocking chairs from. Many nights the sisters sat in them and the “creak, creak, creaked” in the chairs while the crickets sang along with the peaceful music. And although they didn’t have any ice to make happy, clinking sounds in glasses of lemonade they did have pure, cold water from the pump in the kitchen.

Off they ran past the place they had discovered the rusty wheelbarrow. Riley and Morgan had put that to good use hauling things in and out of the garden. Many of the old bottles they had discovered when they found their new home decorated the windowsills in the happy little house. The amber, cobalt blue and pale, pale green glass glowed like stained glass in the late summer sunshine.

Off they ran to the old piece of rope dangling down from the giant tree where they swang and laughed and drank their fill of bubbling, fresh cold water from the tiny spring beside the little blue-mirrored pond.

Off they ran, farther than they had ever explored before. They ate their potatoes and nothing had ever tasted so delicious. They drank their jars of water. They filled themselves with the sweet tartness of wild blackberries beside the trail. And on they ran.

And finally exhausted, they stopped. Right at the edge of the woods at the foot of the mountain, they stopped.


To be continued on Tuesday, August 3rd.

(c) 2010 Jennifer R. Matlock
This publication is the exclusive property of Jennifer R. Matlock and is protected
under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. The contents of this post/story may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without consent of the author, Jennifer R. Matlock. All rights reserved.

post signature

Monday, July 26, 2010

What I’ve learned from my friend Buffy.

Buffy is a brave soul. Hardy. Determined. Able to survive adversity and thrive.

I’ve decided that I will start living my life like Buffy.

Because I think that would be a cool thing to do.

Buffy takes what she gets. Sure she kicks up a ruckus when things don’t go exactly as planned. But she makes do. And eventually accepts things as they are.

Buffy marches to her own drummer. She is not like others of her kind. She knows her own mind and is not afraid to voice it.

Buffy does not let sadness rule her life. She has faced tremendous loss over the past several weeks but her life goes on as usual. She does not wallow in her sadness. She rejoices in what she finds each day.

OK. Yes. Buffy is a chicken.

But I have bonded with her over the last several weeks and now we are like sisters.
Sure Buffy gets mad when I take the wrong kind of treat for her. Even though wonderful people like Tammy over at Flat Creek Farms sent me a comprehensive list of chicken treats, Buffy does not like half the things on the list it says that chickens like. And I never quite suppressed my heebie-jeebies enough to give her cooked chicken or eggs. That is just wrong on so many levels. Don’t believe me? Click here to read the list Tammy sent me!

Buffy has not let the loss of her four sisters deter her from finding joy. She is still willing to squawk, flap her wings and follow me around the yard trying to stand on my foot in spite of her broken heart.

This morning was my last morning with Buffy (or the “Little Fryer” as Mr. Jenny likes to call her).

Don’t worry. Buffy didn’t die.

Her family is coming home tonight so my services will no longer be needed.

But I just wanted to memorialize my time spent with her.

And I swear when I said my usual goodbye to her today which is…

“Goodbye Buffy, I’m getting the flock out of here now”…. I swear I saw a tear drip down her beak.

I couldn’t look back to be sure.

Sometimes when something is over it is just time to make your eggscape and go.

To flap your wings and head for that great chicken coop in the sky.

And Buffy?

Get someone else to cup your grapes from now on.

And I promise if your humans invite us to dinner we won’t come if there is chicken on the menu.

SQUAWWWWWKKKKKK!!!!!!!


PS. If you are new to my blog and have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about...well...welcome to my blog. In most posts I am intelligent and brief and very philosophical. This post is just an aberration. And if you would like to know more about Buffy you can click here to read a little of her history.

post signature

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Spam much?

OK, you know how you call customer service and they won't let you talk to a real person until you sign an agreement stating you will fall on a dull sword anytime they request it?

Or...

You know how you call customer service and hang on the line for 18 minutes listening to irritating muzak and then some chick from a third world country who uses English as her fourth language tries to help you and then hangs up on you, accidentally on purpose?

You do know, don't you?

Arrrrggggghhhh!!!!

So apparently after 34 calls and approximately 1/8 of life my expectancy being put on hold by the idiots at my internet service provider, I now know what the problem is...

I am a....

OK, the picture doesn't exactly work...but my internet service provider thinks I am a spammer.

Them: "Mrs. Matlock. You are exceeding your outbound daily e-mail quotas AND since a large number of your outgoing e-mails have the same subject line you have been flagged as a potential spammer and we are freezing all your e-mail accounts." (I'm being nice here and translating for you...actually it sounded more like Meesis Matyock. You ur esseeding, etc.)

Me: "I send a lot of e-mails each day from comments I receive on my blog."

Them: "We don't give a crap. You are a dirty rotten spammer and your account is frozen...blah, blah, blah." (OK, I paraphrased a bit here)

Me: "Look, I need to be able to send e-mails out. I get a lot of e-mails, this is important."

Them: "We don't give a crap. Call our technical department on Monday or figure something out by yourself you moron."

So, I thought I did figure something out and I opened a g-mail account and forwarded comments to there on Friday afternoon. Ummm... yea. That didn't work. Because it screwed up my whole logging into my blog thing.

So after listening to another 12 albums of "Muzak for the damned" today, someone that I could actually understand told me, "Why don't you just get a business account for your e-mail and then you are allowed to send 1,000 e-mails a day? Let me transfer you to the business sales line."

"Ummm. OK," I said, happy at last.

However. After holding for another 3 1/2 years I found out that the business office is NOT OPEN UNTIL MONDAY MORNING.

So...

I am not going to do the drawing for the CSN giveaway (go leave another comment there if you want an extra chance but be aware I won't be answering your comment) AND I am not going to even attempt the final giveaway for Alphabe-Thursday until this mess is straightened out.

I was told today that once they put the business plan into effect it is immediate BUT I don't want to commit to a time frame until I actually see what the business office tells me in the morning.

I'm sorry. I do try super hard to answer your comments because I truly and honestly appreciate the fact that you take time to read by blog...but if you leave a comment on this post or any other from the weekend it might not get answered. I'm sorry.

I've found that if I have about 20 e-mails in my outbox every once in awhile one will slip through BUT since I can't guarantee it will be the reply to YOUR e-mail. Don't feel bad. I still like you and I'm not trying to be rude.

And in apology I leave you with this...

So...a can of spam goes into a bar and sits his rectangular little metal butt down on a stool.

The bartender frowns at him and says "Listen buddy! We don't serve spam here!"

The can of spam says "That's OK I just want a drink."

Ha!

Haha!

Hahaha!

OK, it's official. Too much muzak on hold can make you slightly crazy.

Sigh...

post signature

Sunny at Priest Lake - Part 1

Mr. Jenny has been wanting to write creative stories for some time. Last week he shared his Paul Harvey story with you and this week he is sharing again. He says he is "taking over" the Sunday spot on my blog and so we shall begin a new weekly feature here - Sundays with Steve. There will be a button and a tab eventually but for now just visit each Sunday to enjoy his words.


Growing up, my best buddy was a mongrel pup named Sunny.

He was a mutt – one of those dogs that are a jumble of at least three or four different breeds. I was five or six years old when we got Sunny from the local city pound, and I’m not really sure how old he was then. He probably wasn’t too old because the only telegram I ever received in my life arrived when I was a freshman in college telling me that Sunny had died, some 12 years later

Our family could not resist this yellow-haired dog at the pound. He stood maybe two and a half feet tall with some golden lab and beagle included in his mutt mix. We thought he was the color of the sun, hence the name. He became the best friend to three rambunctious brothers.


For many years our family took a summer vacation to Priest Lake, Idaho, starting in about 1953 or so. Priest Lake, up north on the border with Canada, is a deep lake 12miles long and a few miles wide. It is isolated, near no towns, and an hour and a half drive north of Spokane, Washington. The lake is surrounded by heavy pine forests and the towering rocky mountains of the Selkirk range, and it is stunningly beautiful.

The family rented a cabin for a week each July at Hill’s Resort on Luby Bay. Hill’s was operated then by George and Lois Hill, who founded it after WWII in the 1940s. Their family still operates the facility today. Click here to read about Hill's Resort!
I remember the Hills well, not only from our 1950’s family vacations, but from other visits in later years. Even when I visited in the 1980’s, George and Lois always pretended to remember me, and they were spectacular hosts.

When you walked into the main lodge, there was a distinctive smell about the place. A very pleasant, sweet, sort of wood smoke smell. A smell of old leather, old fireplaces and log walls and ceilings, all combined into a scent almost like bubble gum. I smell it now, writing this.

And that unusual scent also makes me vaguely recall my earliest memory of the first family vacation at the resort… I could not have been older than three or four. I was running pell-mell out onto a boat dock, then jumping the distance between two of the docks that were chained together. I didn’t realize the docks had drifted apart a bit and I over-estimated the distance my sturdy little legs would carry me. I found myself plunging deep into the cold, clear lake water. And I clearly recall my father’s strong hands grabbing my arms and hauling me back to the surface and to safety.

But this story is not about that memory or that time. This story is about a later vacation and about Sunny.

In the earliest vacation years, Dad rented a fishing boat for the week at the resort. In later years, after his new small-town radio station business became more established, he brought his own boat along. I think we vacationed there for eight years or so.

That lake was a boaters’ paradise and presumably still is. Protected by the tall mountains and surrounded by that incredible beauty, it was filled with fish that taunted our feeble attempts to catch them. The lake surface was typically smooth as glass in the summer morning hours, and the boat ran fast in those waters, to the delight of us all. There are private houses on the east shore of the lake, and Mom and Dad spent hours slowly motoring the boat by them, commenting on the attractiveness or weaknesses of each and, I suspect, dreaming of owning one someday.

The Southern end of the lake had several tree covered islands with intriguing names –the largest was Kalispell, named for an Indian tribe that resides in Western Montana.

It was at Kalispell Island where I learned to water ski one summer. The family enjoyed frequent picnics on the Kalispell beaches, and I remember the daughter of one of the visiting family friends teaching us to water ski. I quickly learned that it was much harder to ski than it looked. It took an endless number of tries for the boat to jerk me out of the water and for me to stay vertical on those wide ski- boards for any length of time. But in the end there was success, and for many years thereafter, water skiing was a favorite sport.

Sunny, the dog, loved Priest Lake as much as us kids. There was so much to do. There were a lot of new young friends to meet, big wide beaches to explore, a lake to splash in, and many different and unusual scents to chase through the woods.

We spent the days fishing with dad in the early morning hours, hunting trout and landlocked salmon locally called silvers. Afternoons were spent in a variety of activities: Swimming in the lake at Hill’s Resort beach, having a picnic on one of the islands, or exploring a nearby abandoned and boarded-up gold mine about a mile down an old narrow-gauge railroad bed.

On many evenings the resort showed family movies on the beach accompanied by a large bonfire and roasted marshmallows. Some evenings we skipped the movie because Dad would drive us in the Jeepster a few miles to the open-air county dump where the bears would feed overnight on piles of garbage. Sunny encountered a bear one night at the dump, and it must have been a grizzly bear, a mad grizzly bear, but that is also a story for another time.
It was a grand vacation for us high-energy, high-curiosity kids.

But it was more so for Sunny.

To say us kids were curious was a serious understatement when compared to Sunny the dog. Sunny explored everyplace and everything. There was one day when his inquisitiveness led to his near demise.

One morning my parents, brothers and I were walking the path paralleling the Hill’s beach when we heard a racket coming at us from farther up the trail. It was Sunny howling bloody murder! He was going to die! He was crying! He was shouting that he had been attacked, and may not survive! “Help!” he howled. He cried in the loudest barking voice we had ever heard!

Poor Sunny! Obviously a bear or cougar or bobcat had attacked him and he had barely escaped with his poor little doggie life. He was telling us all about it in the most dramatic way. Death was knocking at his door and he was howling and whimpering in terrible pain. Oh, the horror of it all…the poor dog obviously was not going to survive. He was ready to depart this life shortly.

But wait a minute here, just a cotton-picking minute.

There was no blood.

There were no scratches.

There were no broken bones, nor skin torn asunder.

Wait a minute. What was that?

What in the world was that stench? What was that stink? What was the horrible smell? This dog stunk to high heaven. And there is only one animal that produces that kind of smell … a skunk.

Sunny had encountered a skunk, a skunk that probably didn’t want to be smelled by this pushy pup. And obviously the skunk had let him have it.

That dog stunk! He just reeked.

“Well,” said my father, the former Army major with command leadership skills (avoidance skills might be the better description in this case). “There is only one way to really clean the skunk smell out of a dog. We have to bath and then scrub the dog down in the lake with tomato juice…canned tomato juice… and a lot of it.”

Off we went. The adults went to the resort’s small store and cleaned out the entire supply of canned tomato juice.

We boys took Sunny to the lake shore and dragged him into the water. Then we liberally applied tomato juice and scrubbed him with a kitchen sink brush.
And scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed.

It was a lousy job, for both us boys, and for the dog.

Listening to the dog you would think, really, the end of the world was coming just about then…howling, crying, whimpering, and barking! The dog was just ready to die right there in the lake with us surrounding him and applying our insidious torture treatment.

But we were having some success. The washing seemed to be working, the smell was receding, and Sunny was calming down.

Unfortunately, one of the spectators on shore wasn’t calming down.

At that point there may have been 10 or 12 people watching from the beach. Then an older lady came ambling along the path and she was sure, she was very, very certain, that we were murdering the dog. She was sure that all of that tomato juice was actually blood, and that a horrendous crime was being committed right in front of her horrified eyes.

“Oh!” she cried, “Save the dog, save the dog, those children are murdering the dog, someone, please HELP! Save the dog from those delinquents.”

She threw a fit, an even bigger fit than Sunny had been throwing. She became the spectacle as she became hysterical. She yelled, she cried, she was on the verge of fainting dead away.

Until my father, the Major, stepped in to calm her down. He explained the skunk encounter and our attempts to rid the dog of the odor.

“Oh,” she said in a very quiet voice. And then she slunk off in embarrassment.

Sunny lost his skunk smell after that thorough scrubbing. We boys vowed that if the dog encountered a skunk again, we would refuse to give him a tomato juice bath -- the adults would have to do it, because we were definitely through!

Sunny died some 12 -13 years later, and I don’t think he ever tried to push a skunk around again.

I do know, though, that he was a best friend to all of us brothers. Even though we tried to massacre him with tomato juice one dramatic day at Priest Lake.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Saturday Centus - Week 12

Jenny Matlock
Welcome to week twelve of Saturday Centus.

Again, thanks for a totally wonderful week of reading. If you didn't get to visit all the links from "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", please make a little time this weekend to do so. They are really creative and fun!

In case you've forgotten...

This is a themed writing meme.

Each Saturday you will be giving a new "prompt" for the week and you have the entire week to link your work to the meme and you can link more than one story if you like.

Each linked essay must be 100 words or less, not including the "prompt" words. No pictures should be used. No profanity. The prompt words can be used in any place within your story but must be left intact. You cannot split the prompt.

Please display link button or just a hyper-link back to Saturday Centus. Be careful to link your SC URL to the Linky and not just link to your main blog.

I would suggest that since these are so short, if you can't think of a title just use your blog name as the title in the Linky.

Try to visit each one because they are tremendous and since they are so short they are definitely a quick read!

Please e-mail me directly with ???'s or ask your question in a comment and I will do my best to get back to you as soon as possible.

Now, get ready to wonder. Tom had given me a prompt several weeks ago before I went into Shake up mode so I'm using it today. I know Tom has been featured a lot lately but I assure you I AM NOT A COUGAR...this was just happenstance in spite of the fact that he calls me Jen Jen.

And next week I will use someone elses prompt.

WEEK 12 PROMPT

Driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-aoke and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good times. But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it? My pulse quickened as I passed the road sign which read "Medford 27 miles."


I can hear PJ and Vicki groaning now. This will definitely be interesting. I am also going to attempt to move the person with the last prompt from week 11 to position 1. She had hardly any readers and I feel really bad.

This link will be live until next Saturday morning around 7 am. And please, remember to link to your SC URL...not your main blog. If you are unsure how to do this please leave me a message in the comments or e-mail me and I'll help you through it! Have fun!

post signature

Friday, July 23, 2010

Somewhere over the Rainbow

Jenny Matlock
This 100 word story is linked to Week 11 of Saturday Centus . The prompt is in bold.


The arched banner shone vividly in front of the bleachers. Some of the hand-painted stripes had smeared together…a testimony to hurried zeal perhaps.

My heart pounded with the beat of my measured steps.

Surrounded by fellow marchers I felt united in the solidarity of changing times and definitions.

I had not seen him since I told him of my life choice.

Though his bitter denunciation stilled burned like acid in my heart and brain, I had still sent him a hopeful e-mail, yearning painfully for his blessing and support.

“Dad, please wait for me somewhere over the rainbow in the stands. I miss you.”

To read other great entries to this meme, just click here.

post signature

Do you know how sometimes...

504 Main

...you sit down to write a blog post, certain that each word will fall from your mind perfectly formed into a shining orb of literary perfection?

You don't?

Darn, I was hoping you could help me with that because this post is just not working out like that so far for me.

OK.

Let me try again.

You know how sometimes you know exactly what you want to say but somewhere between brain and fingertips on keyboard there is a heinous disconnect that leaves you stuttering and weak and unable to get anything more onto paper than "ummm.... I got nothing"?
You don't?

Darn again. Cuz that's what is happening to me here right now and I was hoping to find some solidarity among fellow bloggers.

Sigh...

So...

Let me try again....

You know how sometimes someone does something really nice for you like featuring your blog (you can click on that pretty pink tickled pink button below to see!) and you want to say thank you in an eloquent way so that when people visit your blog for the first time are all impressed and say, "Wow, I love that blog, I will have to follow along because, seriously, that girl really seems capable of avoid a heinous disconnect between brain and fingertips and writes words that effortlessly form themselves into a shining orb of literary perfection"?

504 Main

Yea. That's so not happening here...

I'm sorry.

I feel bad cheating you like this.

I feel bad that there is no way possible you will be tickled pink by this post.

Holly! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I let you down! I really, really wanted to do the shining orb thing and not the heinous disconnect thing.

Perhaps I can redeem this post by sharing something obscure and thought provoking.

Yea, yea. That's it.

Let me think.

OK, I've got it.

Knock Knock!

Who's there !

Holly !


Holly who ?

Hollylujah ! It's Holly's Tickled Pink post!

...

...

Ummm.... did you get it? HollyLUjah! Holly? Ummm...

OK...

So yea. I'm leaving now.

I need to rest up because I'm sure many of you will be asking me to be a featured blogger for you soon on the strength of this incredible post.

And I need to be prepared.

And do you know the origin of the phrase "tickled pink"? Google told me that this phrase means"To be delighted and refers to the fact that when some people are really excited they literally change colour, and their skin becomes quite pink because the blood vessels dilate and more blood flows close to the skin, and we appear redder".

Do you know that can actually happen, too, when you are embarrassed over a blog post? Yea. It's true. I can prove it!
Holly? Holly? I hope I didn't ummm... tickle you pink too much with this post.

And if you haven't ever visited Holly's blog at 504 Main before please go there and say hi. Just click here. I met Holly almost as soon as I started blogging and was all star-struck because she has a published book on weddings and knows a whole bunch of stars and she is just plain fun and cool. In a "shining orb" kinda way. And don't be afraid. She mostly tells you about normal people and fun things to do. This particular "heinous disconnect" featured blog is just an anomaly. Trust me.

Goodbye now.

Really...

Goodbye.

Even if you hang around longer I am not going to say anything else silly and look like even more of a dork.

Goodbye.

Sigh...

post signature

Thursday, July 22, 2010

An epic poem for Alphabet Soup Day...

Ahemmmm.....

cough, cough...sputter...

Ahemmmm.....
Once I had a letter “A
But it could “B” hard to “C”!
So in my hunt I passed by “D
And “E” and “F
and then “G”!
HI!” I said to letter “J
I don’t want “K, L, M or N
O” I need a tiny break,
Please excuse me while I “P”.
I’m back, I’m back, did you see that?
Q”, “R”, “S” went rushing by…
Please excuse my bad manners..
I hope I didn't make you cry.
Since you are a friend, true blue..
I'd like to take a little break,
and have some “T” with “U”.
We’ll skip right by “V” and “W
And you can “X” the map where you think I’ll find A.
I know you forgot this a serious poem.
There is no time to play!
Y?” you ask. Have you forgotten
This poem started with an A I couldn’t see.
But for now, I’m tired
This poem has worn me out.
I need to go get some “ZZZZZZZ’s”.

This literary masterpiece is linked to Alphabe-Thursday's Alphabet Soup day! Please click here to read the other astonishing literary works attached to this intellectual meme.

Sigh...

post signature

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Alphabe-Thursday's Alphabet Soup

Good morning class! This is the final linky for Alphabe-Thursday's Round 1! It encompasses all the letters because it is Alphabet Soup: Don't be confused. You haven't stepped into the cafeteria accidentally. This weeks links can be any letter of the alphabet. You can re-link a post from a previous letter or write a brand new one or you can link a post that might have missed the final cut-off time!

This week will count in the final drawing.

Because it is going to take me a bit of time to compile all the links (you might remember we are starting from the letter "C" on) I won't be announcing the final winner until Sunday night. I appreciate your patience with this.

Next Thursday we will head into Alphabe-Thursdays Rainbow Summer School. So you can be thinking what you might want to write about the first color in the rainbow is RED!

Please, please try to visit as many blogs as you can each week. We'll just stick with our normal method of trying to distribute comments more evenly.

So that we can distribute comments a bit more evenly, if your first name starts with the letters A - L please start reading the odd posts first starting with link number 1.

If your first name starts with the letters M - Z please start reading the even posts first starting with link number 2.

I also want to let you know that each week I visit every blog. I noticed a blog today where my comment didn't show up. If it appears I haven't visited your blog by Sunday night, please let me know, because it is important to me to make sure you know I've visited you!

If you have any difficulties with your link please make sure to include the number of the link when you e-mail me. It is really difficult for me to find them otherwise.

If you have any questions about Alphabe-Thursday or problems doing your link just post it in a comment or send me an e-mail. I'll do my best to help you.

The McLinkey will be live from 6:00 pm MST time Wednesday night through 8:00 am MST time Friday morning!

And remember.... link back to this post, you need to be registered as a follower of my blog (since there are prizes involved and it makes my life easier that way), PG posts only, and try to visit all the other students according to the letter of your first name! The links will stay live after the final post deadline has passed so you can even wait and visit over the weekend or whenever you have more time.

Class is dismissed. Please feel free to stir up all your Alphabe-Thursday posts and select one to link now:

post signature

Short and Sweet...and a $60 CSN giveaway

You are not going to believe this but I won a writing contest for a six word story. Yes, I said six words! ha! I'm going to share a link with that amazing literary work in a moment but first I have a wonderful CSN Giveaway to tell you about!

Since we've done this before, you might recall that included in CSN's 200+ on-line stores is a plethora of great products offered at wonderful prices.

Today I took a long (slightly drooling) look around some of their sites including the one for dinnerware! If I could win this $60 gift certificate I might be tempted to pick this wonderul Le Creuset pitcher... ... because I could use it to serve iced tea or to make a colorful display of sunflowers or zinnias.

But you can pick whatever you like if you are selected as the winner.

So here's all the blah, blah, blah about this fun giveaway and how to get 5 chances to win:

Leave a comment on this post telling me if you liked my 6 word story - 1 point
Leave another comment telling me you follow my blog - 1 point
Leave another comment telling me what you'd pick from CSN if you win - 1 point
Leave a link on your blog directing your blog visitors here for the giveaway and let me know that you did - 1 point
And lastly, leave a final comment on my post telling me what beverage you would serve from this pitcher - 1 point

Yea. I know this might be a bit of work. But do you know leaving comments technically kinda/sorta counts as aerobic exercise? It does. I'm certain of it.

You can enter this contest through midnight, Saturday, July 24. Winner to be announced sometime on Sunday, July 25.

And I can attest that the e-mail with your prize code is sent out almost right away by the good folks at CSN so you can get your prize of choice ordered right away!

And...

I never said this post was short and sweet. That particular description was ONLY for my six word story. Just click here to go over to Pat's Critter Alley blog to check it out! And take kleenex along. It is an emotional read!

ha!

Good luck!

post signature

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Story-Time Tuesday Chapter 14

If you missed TALES FROM HOME - Chapter 13, just click here to read it!
Jenny Matlock

TALES FROM HOME - Chapter Fourteen

As late spring turned into early summer and the girls continued to make new discoveries, the happy little house at the edge of the pond, at the edge of a woods, at the edge of a mountain was filled with joyful excitement.

In some ways, it felt like the girls had been in the house forever. The boards and the bricks and the stones were once again filled with laughter and love; the sisters felt happy and safe. It was only on a few gray and rainy afternoons they remembered the sadder days when their lives had been filled with worry and walking and uncertainty.

But when the sun shone, a cool breeze blew and the ground was dappled in shade by the lovely summer leaves, living in the happy little house felt like an adventure.

Although the other bedrooms had been cleaned and scrubbed, the three sisters continued to share the room they’d slept in when they first discovered the sad little house.

As soon as the pearly morning light from the eastern sky lit the faded pink roses in the bedroom, the three girls eagerly leaped out of bed and raced to the window. Even though summer leaves made it impossible to see the blue-mirrored water of the pond now, the view from that window made the girls stand quietly for just a tiny moment. Perhaps in the still silence of that instant, the sisters were letting their hearts say a small prayer that things would always feel this perfect. Or perhaps they were merely planning what adventure would fill their day.

Whatever the reason for the quiet moment, it was always short-lived. The bed was quickly made, the old-fashioned nightgowns were folded underneath plump pillows and the girls quickly dressed themselves in faded play clothes.

Although the doors to the two other bedrooms with faded yellow rose and pale purple violet wallpaper stood open, the sisters always hurried past the rooms without even bothering to look inside.

If they’d taken a moment, they would have seen how the old furniture that Julia had carefully dusted gleamed in the happy sunshine from the now clean and sparkling windows. They might have remembered their excitement when they realized the dresser drawers in each room had been filled with old children’s clothes. Surely they would have smiled at the thought of soapy water splashing from the old washtub as the clothes had been washed and then dried in the hot summer sunshine.

If they had taken a small step inside the violet wallpapered room, they might have recalled their excitement when they found the lovely, faded quilts hidden inside the large trunk under the window. What fun it was unfolding each and looking at the rainbow of colors. Each girl had finally selected their favorite and taken it downstairs to cuddle under when the nights were rain-filled and breezy.

Julia had cleaned most of the upstairs of the house by herself; Riley and Morgan had grudgingly helped her with a few bigger things. Each time the girls ran down the staircase in the morning they smiled, remembering how the happy little house had been filled with chaos and clatter and the chatter of small children when they had bump-bump-bumped the old mattresses down the stairs and hauled them outside. The sun and cool breezes had done their magic and now the beds smelled like a summer’s day.

The entry way was now swept clean and cluttered, once again, with shoes and backpacks. Riley had dragged a small bench downstairs from the yellow flowered bedroom and it now held two perfect blue jay feathers, a small nest blown from a tree, the remnants of three sky blue eggs and handfuls of sparkling rocks. The girls had gathered each beautiful object and placed them there for safekeeping.

The girls spent time in the living room every evening. The treasured quilts tumbled here and there over the old fashioned, dark green couch whose cushions were now dust-free and cozy. A small pile of books was stacked on each arm of the couch. A game of checkers was ready to be played on a wooden table.

Some firewood was stacked high beside the stone fireplace and more was stacked on the front porch. The girls had not yet lit a fire, but talked about the time the winds would blow colder and they would be able to cozy up to warm, flickering flames.

The bookcase between the two tall backed reading chairs had been dusted and put into order. It was one of the girls’ biggest treasures. When cleaning out the happy, little house, they’d discovered several more boxes of books stacked into a small closet in the living room. They thought they had just enough books to read forever.

The top of the low bookshelf also held a glass jar filled with wildflowers and each girls’ most special treasure. Julia had found the perfectly heart-shaped rock one day in the little stream by the pond. It was polished and smooth and had colors of gold, amber and purple entwined like ribbons all over the shiny surface. It was exactly the right size to fit in Julia’s hand and she often held it at night when she was reading in the cozy lantern-lit room. Riley’s treasure was also a small stone, almost perfectly square and clear. It looked like a piece of glass except zig-zagging down the very center was a pale gray line that Riley thought looked like lightening. Morgan was not quite so discerning. With the fickleness of a four year old, her treasure changed by the moment: sometimes it was a small piece of sparkling pink quartz that glittered like jewels in the sunlight; sometimes she had the feather of a wild turkey; and today Morgan’s treasure was a small bone from an animal, bleached pure white by the sun.

But the three little girls really didn’t care about any of these treasures or the cozy living room right now. They were focused on getting out the door. They had decided that the entire day would be spent on adventure and no chores, a reward for working so hard over the past weeks. And so they burst into the kitchen to be greeted by the wonderful sight of a tidy, sunshine filled room and the scolding of a whole family of chipmunks.

As the weeks had passed, the baby chipmunks had gotten larger and louder. Each day, they would run out the back door to do whatever it is chipmunks do all day. And each evening they would chatter and scold at the door until they were allowed back into their home in the lower cupboard. The girls had found out early on that the chipmunks did not like to be picked up, so now they just enjoyed chipmunk chatter. Often when Julia was working away in the house, a chipmunk or two would be close by, telling her all about what was happening in chipmunk talk. Julia talked back in little girl talk. It was a funny friendship, but it seemed to make all of them happy.

The girls quickly washed their hands and faces in the cold water from the pump, the chilly splashing making them feel even more wide awake. They’d long since used up the toothpaste that had been in their backpacks; so Julia made sure they each brushed their teeth with soap even though it tasted disgusting. Every morning all three girls made horrible faces and gagging noises, but their teeth looked white and shiny and healthy.

Julia had cooked up a bunch of small potatoes from the garden the night before for dinner. The girls sprinkled a bit of salt on the leftovers, ate a quick breakfast and drank their fill of fresh water.

A few extra potatoes were put into each backback along with a jar of water.

And they were ready!

Riley and Morgan quickly went out the kitchen door ready to follow their imaginations and enjoy an entire day of exploration and play.

Julia glanced around the kitchen to make sure everything was put away and then stepped out onto the stone steps to join her sisters.

The two younger girls were already by the berry bushes in the garden eating dessert.

Julia jumped down from the stone steps and shouted, “Hey, save some for me!”

And that was the start of their glorious day of fun.

To be continued on Tuesday, July 27.

(c) 2010 Jennifer R. Matlock
This publication is the exclusive property of Jennifer R. Matlock and is protected
under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. The contents of this post/story may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without consent of the author, Jennifer R. Matlock. All rights reserved.

post signature

Monday, July 19, 2010

How to escape the heat in Arizona...

Step 1. Pack a giant picnic lunch suitable for 17 truck drivers.

Step 2. Borrow your son's truck and his three daughters and load the bed of the truck up at 8:39 am.

Step 3. Begin handing out food from picnic lunch 13 minutes into your drive North.
Step 4. Drive farther north. North, north, north. To where the pine trees rise up from rocky red earth and the saguaro cacti disappear from view. North, north, north. To where the meringue of clouds sits beautifully atop the Mogollan rim. North, north, north. You can observe the temperature gage drop in front of your eyes...108 degrees to 105. 103, 101, 98, 95, 92, 87, 85 and finally 72 degrees. An announcement to be accompanied by cheers of five people anxious to escape the sweltering heat if only for a day.
Step 5. While watching the temperature gage fall, put cotton balls in ears so they do not bleed from hearing the word "Grandma, Grandma, Grandma" uttered approximately 237.5 times per child per hour! Sing songs. Talk. Sing songs. Talk. Feed them more things from the picnic basket. Talk.

Step 6. Stop at visitors center to use outhouse-style restrooms. Discuss contents at the bottom of the toilet shaft. Discuss why it smells bad. Wait with littlest child for a long, long time in smelly outhouse-style restroom while husband and two older girls wander around visitor center. Haul little blond girl out of restroom to see an impatient line of 16 knees-clenched-together glaring women.

Step 7. Arrive at lake number one at 10:28 am. Exclaim at how wonderful the air smells. Attempt to catch butterflies. Go for a hike. Try to discourage little girls from wanting to eat lunch. Talk. Sing songs. Repeat Step 6 with minor variations.
Step 8. Arrive at lake number two. Exclaim at how wonderful the air smells. Give up on diverting little girls from eating lunch. Feed little girls. Feed little girls some more. Put food away. Repeat Step 6 with minor variations.
Step 9. Play in lake. Throw rocks. Discuss the possible need to repeat Step 6. Play in lake some more.



Step 10. Return to picnic area.

Step 11. Eat lunch again and repeat Step 6 with minor variations.

Step 12. Load up car and drive up bumpy dirt road.

Step 13. Test heart and stress stamina while standing on rock-ledge overlook.




Step 14. Pass time driving on bumpy dirt road by listening to Mr. Jenny tell stories of grizzly bears and washing the skunk smell out of dogs with tomato juice.

Step 15. Return to a civilized road. Repeat Step 6 EXCEPT conduct this step beside road with all three girls.

Step 16. Stop at DQ to feed three starving girls. Repeat Step 6. Sigh...

Step 17. Drive back to the Valley of the Sunstroke and pass time by telling an epic 1 hour 45 minute saga of living on a farm and finding baby animals hidden in the garden including, but not limited to, 6 sparkly puppies, 3 tiny white kittens, 3 baby foxes and 1 baby goat. Feed little girls from remnants of picnic lunch suitable for 17 truck drivers.

Step 18. Drive south, south, south and watch the temperature climb up, up, up .... 75 degrees to 80. 82, 86, 89, 93, 97, 104, 110. An announcement to be accompanied by the groans of 5 people who are not anxious to return to the sweltering heat.

Step 19. Swap truck filled with little girls and muddy shoes with son and his wife at 5:47 pm.

Step 20. Drive home in stunned silence.

And that, my friends, is how you escape the heat in Arizona.

Sigh...



post signature