A Memory of a Farmhouse

It took me years to figure out why there were so many piles of old bricks on the old farmstead. Tucked behind sheds, stacked up in the tree rows, laid three and four deep on parts of the barn floor their existence remained a mystery.

It wasn't until we started tearing down a small, dilapidated shed that I developed a theory which was later verified as a truth.

The frame of the rickety little shed was covered almost entirely in old street signs, stop signs and road construction signs. Some were almost pristine while others were dented and rusted almost beyond recognition.

The construction material caused me to wonder if the man who owned the property worked for the small town, or if he had perhaps been a garbage collector.

A random visit shortly after the demolition from another old gentleman in the area confirmed that the owner of the house had worked for the city for many, many years and often hauled home salvage and discards and job excess.

The signs and bricks were relics from the time this thrify man saved everything with any value.

And although there was never enough of any one material to make an entire project from the red, orange and yellow bricks...

Their sturdy testiment to time let us create a lot of different projects.

Sometimes it feels like the years on the farmstead were a magical time...like following the yellow brick road to Oz.




This little memory is written in honor of the letter "O" for Alphabe-Thursday. "O" is for yellow brick road to Oz.

To read other 'O' offerings, just click here!

Alphabe-Thursday's Letter O

I am soooo sorry! I posted the wrong link code in! It's fixed now!

Good morning class.

Welcome to round four of Alphabe-Thursday! Today we will be studying the outrageous letter:


Please link directly to your Alphabe-Thursday URL (if you don't know how to do this let me know!) and please continue to visit the five links before and after your link and leave a comment. Minimum of 10 links visited please. You can visit more if you like, of course.

I also want to let you know that each week I visit every blog. If it appears I haven't visited your blog by the following Friday afternoon, please let me know!

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 you easily 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 as quickly as I can.

The McLinkey will be live from 1:00 pm MST time Wednesday afternoon in an effort to assist our lovely "friends across the pond" and continue through 10:00 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 you must visit at least 10 other posts...perhaps consider starting from the last posts and work backwards. 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.

Please don't be ornery. Link up your "O" post now!

Don't go leaping to any conclusions...

Just warning you.

Here's a little knock knock joke for you.

Because it's Leap Year.

And I know you want to celebrate with me.

So...

Go ahead.

Really.

You say, "Knock, Knock!"

Got it?

Okay.

Go! Really! It's your turn first.

"Knock, knock!" You say.

Wait! Wait! That's not right!

Let's start over.

I start first.

"Knock, knock!"

"Who's there?" you say.

"Mary!"

"Mary who?" you say.

"Mary me and I'll love you forever!" I say.

Awwww...

Cute, wasn't it?

You can't roll your eyes at me, Missy. I warned you right in advance. I told you not to leap to any conclusions.

Sadly, even though I did a bunch of google searches I couldn't find a single Leap Year knock knock joke.

So.

Yeah.

That's the VERY best I could come up with today.

But!

Happy Leap Year anyway.

Taking a day off Tuesday

It's not really gonna be a vacation but...

I'm actually in the process of moving over the next few days. Combined with job training, foot breaking, teeth pulling and all the other dramas of everyday life, I need to be as focused as possible.

Not easy when you're me!

I think I might have the world's shortest attention span.

Sigh...

But!

Job training is going great but there's a lot to learn...

Mr. Jenny's foot is not getting much better but he's gonna rest after we move...

The ex-tooth site is doing pretty well and will hopefully be better by weeks end...

...and all the rest of the drama.

Well.

What can I say?

All this drama is just great story material...for someday when I actually have time to write again!

Send some energy and a little prayer our way if you get a chance.

Thanks, friends!

A dramatic tale of extreme chicken-ness

"Just show me where it hurts the most, okay?" the organ surgeon said, and then pressed some kind of dental instrument into my mouth which resulted in me screaming and kicking Mr. Jenny.

Yeah.

I'm dramatic like that.

Having shattered a molar on Thursday night, I spent much of the night a) freaking out about having to get it pulled and b) freaking out about missing job training for my new job and c) freaking out because it hurt so freakin' much.

Mr. Jenny, God Bless his soul, begged and pleaded an appointment for me early Friday afternoon at the only oral surgeon I've ever gone to that hasn't given me dry socket or strapped my down to a chair while sitting on my chest chiselling out the broken tooth for an hour or two.

I tried to wiggle out of going on the grounds that I couldn't leave work early.

Yeah. That didn't work out.

My job trainer was super supportive and told me he'd help me catch up on Monday and all my virtual classmates were kind in their best wishes at the dentist.

So there I sat in the exam room. The surgeon, apparently unable to believe his expensive x-rays, insisted that I point to the tooth that had broken.


"Yes, it's shattered, all right," he agreed after peeling me off the ceiling. "This tooth is not salvageable. We need to pull it."

I wanted to be sarcastic but I refrained, having learnt from past experience it is never a good idea to tick someone off who has you confined in a chair and has all kinds of point-y and hurt-y objects at his fingertips.

I took a deep breath.

And then burst into tears.

Because, yeah...

I'm dramatic like that.

And I hate having my teeth pulled.

And I'm not especially fond of getting knocked out.

So I walked down the hall like I was heading to the death chamber.

Dragging my feet like a rebellious five year old, Mr. Jenny practically had to yank into the surgical suite.

Sure, they gave me strawberry scented laughing gas to take the edge off.

Sure, they covered me with a fuzzy brown blanket because I was all shivery.

Sure, they told me I would be asleep for the whole thing.

Sure, the said when I woke up that my tooth wouldn't be hurting anymore.

But still.

I didn't want to do it.

I cried.

I pleaded.

I promised God I would be a better person.

I begged the dentist not to hurt me.

I struggled to keep my eyes open to avoid the abyss of possible death by dental extraction.

But I succumbed to the anesthesia in the IV.

...

...

And you know what?

Darned if they weren't right.

My tooth wasn't hurting anymore when I woke up.

...

...

But since I practically died...

And I was weak from the surgery and all.

...Mr. Jenny pretty much waited on me hand and foot all weekend fetching mashed potatoes from KFC and milkshakes from Sonic.


Which I needed.

I mean...

...being weak and all from the trauma and the major surgery.

...

...

Okay.

Sigh.

I admit it.

I'm just a teensy bit dramatic once in a while.

...

But even chickens don't like having their teeth pulled.


So there.

Another Kind of Chair

I held my head high as I walked the grim hallway.

Hands stretched out to touch mine, but I rejected their comfort.

I had not done wrong. I would not bow and cower now.

I would not plead and express remorse.

The chair dominated the small room. The straps were uncomfortable on my wrists but I did not lower my gaze from the viewing window..

Death by lethal injection.

And all because I had bludgeoned my dentist to death with the chisels he had used so violently on me when he extracted my molar.

I will not plead and express remorse.

I did not do wrong.


This bizarre little story is linked to week 95 of Saturday Centus. The prompt is in bold. I did end up having a tooth extracted on Friday afternoon, but my oral surgeon was fabulous...although I will admit to having had a few in the past who made me feel a bit homicidal. To read other links, just click here.

Saturday Centus - The chair dominated the small room

Welcome to week ninety-five of Saturday Centus.

Hi Centusians. I'm anxious to read your autobriefographies! I'm hoping to be all caught up this weekend!

How about a weird but more 'traditional' prompt this week.


This is my picture for the week. Feel free to use a picture of any chair in any room and write your story around that, though.

The prompt this week is: The chair dominated the small room

Number of words: 100 PLUS the six words of the prompt for a maximum of 106 words.
Style of writing: Any
Pictures: As many extra pictures as you like

The regular restrictions apply: PG, no splitting of the prompt, play nicely and visit the other entries, any style or genre of writing you prefer.

Please display my 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.

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.

Feel free to link up anytime between now and next Saturday!

Count my what?????

Arrrgggh.

I broke a molar last night. Badly. As in vertical cracks into the root and pieces falling out into my mouth. And there is someone hammering on the side of my face with a mallet...


...and on top of that...

...well, gee...

I am going to have to get this tooth pulled today AND we're not supposed to miss any time during job training so I'm kinda/sorta freakin' out that I'm going to get fired.


Okay. I'll be honest.

It's more than kinda/sorta. It's total and complete freakin' out fest around here this morning.

I have to wait until the oral surgeon opsn to see if they could possibly pull the tooth at the end of my shift (which isn't until 2:30) but the pain is getting worse by the second so I'm not sure if I can last that long..

...and if I do have to leave earlier to get it pulled, I have to beg my trainer when we go on shift (with a swollen mouth and barely able to move my jaw) to let me try to catch up on Monday...depending on the time of getting my tooth pulled...

...so...

...at this juncture I just don't know what to do.

In the meantime...I thought I'd try to take the focus off my toothache, possible job termination, no kitchen, moving the first weekend of March chaos, broken footed husband, smashed car and pod and count my blessings.

Okay.

Ahem.

Here goes.

1.

Uno Numero.

Ummmm...

Okay, wait. I've got this. Just trying to think with someone using my head for batting practice.

Okay. 1. I can still write on my blog. It's not like I'm one of those people that has to type with a stick between their teeth because they had some tragic accident and are now paraplegic. Yeah. That would be worse. I am counting my blessings that's not me.

2.

Ummm... Deux.

Number two. Hmmmm...

Okay, I've got it. I have a big jug of lukewarm water. It doesn't hurt to drink it too badly. And there's a lot of people who don't even have water. So yeah. Lukewarm water that doesn't hurt my broken tooth too much is high on my list of blessings.

And...

3.

Three.

Oh geez.

This isn't helping. I'm just going to have to wallow in my broken-toothed misery.

And whine.

Cuz somedays are just like that.

Hope yours is definitely going better!

Sigh...

A Memory of a Farmhouse

In the years I lived on the old farmstead, I was married to a coal miner.


Seriously.

And when you are married to a coal miner you become EXTREMELY protective of your claw-foot bathtub!

You do NOT want that black film anywhere near the ancient porcelain surface of your beloved bathing vessel.

Fortunately the ancient, old farmhouse came with both an outside cellar door and a rigged up shower in the basement.

An old shower-head was attached to one of the pipes in the middle of the floor. Rigged up with hot and cold faucets, a drain and a circular aluminum shower curtain rod, it was perfect.

At least I thought so.

My then-husband did not.

He would come home from work covered in grit and black dust and slam those outside cellar doors open.

I, being the always thoughtful wife, would have left clean clothes and his slippers on a chair just outside his cleansing domain. An old bath mat and a plastic lined laundry basket for his heavily grimed work gear completed his deluxe accommodations.

He would grumble and mutter along with the grumble and mutter of old, copper plumbing, and eventually emerge up the narrow basement steps looking for dinner.

Thankfully my tiny laundry room was tucked into a little porch off the kitchen upstairs so I never had to stay in the old, spooky basement very long.

I only stayed long enough to leave clothes and slippers for a coal-miner forced to clean up each night after work in a nasty shower.

This little memory is written in honor of the letter "N" is written in honor of Alphabe-Thursday. "N" is for nasty shower.

To read other 'N' offerings, just click here.

Alphabe-Thursday Letter N

Good morning class. Welcome to round four of Alphabe-Thursday!

Today I we will share our nice letter:


Please link directly to your Alphabe-Thursday URL (if you don't know how to do this let me know!) and please continue to visit the five links before and after your link and leave a comment. Minimum of 10 links visited please. You can visit more if you like, of course.

I also want to let you know that each week I visit every blog. If it appears I haven't visited your blog by the following Thursday evening, please let me know!

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 you easily 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 as quickly as I can.

The McLinkey will be live from 1:00 pm MST time Wednesday afternoon in an effort to assist our lovely "friends across the pond" and continue through 10:00 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 visit at least 10 other students (perhaps the 5 students before and after your post). 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.

Please share your nifty "N" post now!

Things that go crash...

...often do so at night.

Or at least they did here last week.


I have been unable to put anything into the POD because...

Someone...

Who shall remain nameless...

and is suffering from a broken foot...

(ahem)...

backed into the POD with our only CAR...

last week...

And did five days worth of repair damage on the car...

while...

rendering the door of the POD useless.

So...

Now we wait for the insurance on the POD to be taken care of so they can replace the door so we can continue to pack to move.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

Yes, that is me beating my head against the wall.

Thank heavens the job training felt more manageable today!

Sigh.

Sigh...

SIGH.....

Prepare to be impressed...

I've been in class for two days now for my new job which is making me hyperventilate just a teensy bit.

Last week I thought my brain was exploding.

I thought I was never, ever going to grasp the concept of what they're trying to shove into my head.

I was wrong.

Mr. Jenny broke his foot...again.

And I was quickly able to tell him to...

RE-BOOT!


and

DE-BOOT!


Funny, right?

C'mon. That was funny.

Actually I know nothing yet...but I'm hopeful a miracle will occur in this weeks training somehow!

Sigh...

Autobriefagraphical

Week 94. Saturday Centus.

Biography in six words.

Oh my.

I have written and changed and written and changed and written and changed.

So much to say in so few words.

Here's my attempt.

To read others, click here.


Too stubborn to surrender to failure.

Saturday Centus - Autobriefagraphical

Welcome to week ninety-four of Saturday Centus.

Before you go any further...
STOP!

I've had some e-mails from Centusians having trouble leaving comments of late. I'm wondering how you'd feel about offering an alternative method of getting in touch with you at the end of your blog post like your e-mail address. If you list it like this: jennymatlock at cox dot net it should protect you from 'bots.

If anyone has a better idea, please let me know!

I think we all enjoy the feedback of the comments and maybe something like this would work.

Now you can
GO!

Although you may not want to because I have a doozy of a challenge for you. I saw it in a magazine and thought it was ridiculously cool so it might be fun to give it a go here.

I know it's going to be almost impossible for those of you running continuous stories but I'm still going to do it to you.

Because I'm like that.

Here's your challenge for the week.

Write your autobiography.

In SIX WORDS!

I saw some examples and they were amazing. Here's two of them: "Learned too late to let go" and "Still dancing in the rain today!"

THEIR IS NO PROMPT THIS WEEK. BUT YOU HAVE 6 WORDS TO WRITE YOUR AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Period. FEEL FREE TO USE A PICTURE IF IT WILL HELP!

The regular restrictions apply: PG, no splitting of the prompt, play nicely and visit the other entries, any style or genre of writing you prefer.

Please display my 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.

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.

Feel free to link up anytime between now and next Saturday!

This is my brain.

Or maybe I should say...this WAS my brain...(cute right?)

This is my brain now after shower and wedding planning, having my kitchen totally gutted and existing without a kitchen for five weeks (and it continues)WHILE getting ready to move and starting a new job.


Scary right?

Because although the shower and wedding have become just happy memories, and I have become extremely adept cooking in my laundry room, and I am as organized as an Air Force brat can possibly be for the move AND the trainers are fabulous and the online class is fabulous and everyone I talk to associated with Convergys is fabulous...(including the wickedly sweet Lauren who called me yesterday afternoon to check on my progress and to encourage me!)...

I'm old.

And my brain isn't what it used to be.

Really.

I have...GULP!...sparkler brain!

Yes, huh, that is a REAL disease.

Is, too.

But anyway...

Even though I am afflicted with the rare disease of sparkler brain, I did recall that I owed you a few more wedding pictures.

So here they are...

Before I show you them, I just have to tell you that Mr. Jenny is my favorite photographer. Most of the time.

Especially when the 'real' wedding photographer says to him, "You stay out of my way!" and Mr. Jenny retorts, "Yeah, that's fine, but YOU stay out of my WAY!" I'm not sure why, but that cracks me up.

I think it's the sparkler brain.

Since I am officially out of the denial phase that I have this disease, I've embraced the fact that sparkler brain has a side effect of making odd things disproportionately amusing. (It also give me a tendency toward using a lot of '...'s' and grammatically incorrect sentences in my writing...but, hey, that's a whole other subject... ... ... ... ... ...

Ahem.

...

...

Because when I see that Mr. Jenny has captured obscure images at events like this...


...it makes me giggle. A lot.

Moving on.

Finally, here's a bunch of other, slightly less obscure, photos including Mr. Jenny photographing the photographer, the best little caterer helper, EVER!, and other random reception pictures from my sister's firehouse wedding.


















I am now returning to my sparkler brained life...

BUT!

Thanks for stopping by! Have a Happy Friday!

PS. Many of you know PJ from 'The Back of my Eyelids'...it's a sad day for her today. If you get a chance give her a shout by clicking here...and maybe send a prayer and a hug her way!