Genesis, Exodus, NUMBERS, Deuteronomy…

I’m so pleased to have my friend, and funny lady, Joan Oliver Emmer as a guest blogger today! Joan’s website, Body of Work is definitely one of my favorites. Enjoy her love / hate relationship with logins on my site, then I’d be tickled if you use the link above to come over to her site and get my take on Groundhog Day. Enjoy! Continue reading

Just knock me out

I don’t drink and I don’t normally do drugs. Yay me! Having said that, there are a few instances where I’ve gladly taken prescription narcotics. These include surgery, accidents, and MRIs. Yes, you say, but now they have the open Magnetic Resonance Imaging where they don’t have to cram you into an oversized toilet paper tube.

It’s true that your lower body sticks out in the open, but your head is still inches from the walls. Since my face, through which I breathe and see is attached to my head, I can hardly not notice the proximity of my nose to 1,000 pounds of oversized donut. Add to that the fact that I have a rather generous size noggin, and you get the real fear that it will take two crowbars, a winch, and a pound of chicken fat to pry me back out.

I have a very high tolerance for narcotics, and a very low tolerance for stuff up against my face, so I’m always careful to tell the doctors to make mine a double. Years ago, they failed to believe me, and I woke up in the middle of a surgical procedure. I yelled “Get it off me. I can’t breathe.” as I batted at the mask, all the while there were various surgical instruments sticking out of my neck. I need to seriously examine my priorities.

Since I stopped drinking, I haven’t felt the need to strip naked in the car on the way home from the office Christmas party. Good times. I haven’t done a face plant in my dinner plate while playing host to a table full of Canadian dignitaries. Trust me, it’s hard to be the gracious hostess with mashed potatoes up your nose.

Yes, that actually happened.

I had natural childbirth when I delivered both of my kids, while my Mom was taking hits of ether when she pooped me out. That probably explains a lot. I was feeling no pain when the doctor slapped me on the butt.

Hemingway may have been able to write The Old Man and the Sea while totally hammered, but when I’m drunk, I type a page full of nothing but semi colons. This does not make for classic literature.

So Wednesday when I go in for my MRI, I’m going to bite the bullet and refuse their offer of a handful of valium. I’ll just hum the theme song from Rocky quietly in my head. My dignity is at stake. Besides, they don’t have a bar that I can dance on.

25 Things

I cleaned the cat’s litterbox yesterday, and he showed his customary pleasure when using the fresh sand for the first time. Here was uncharted territory—virgin sand. OK, cats lead a rather boring life, but that’s about how I felt yesterday when I was tagged for the first time on Facebook (purring).  My friend, Joan was daring me to participate in a little social experiment by listing 25 things about myself that others may not already know. Continue reading

Chomping at the bit

What makes a writer? For one thing, he wants to have his work read by others. I’ve had a lot of fun reading my friends’ books, and for a long time, I’ve wanted to share a little of my current work in progress. I’ve decided to finally indulge myself with a little clip from my murder mystery, Box of Rocks. I hope you enjoy coming along for the ride. Continue reading

Gerald and I would be walking buddies

Wanted: Walking buddy for, well…walking. Must be willing to face down very large snakes and alligators (actually, the gators are medium size), scramble across loose boulders, balance on muddy logs, traverse steep leafy slopes, and keep up with a Doberman with legs longer than your own. May include getting sprayed by said Doberman after he swims in alligator and snake infested water. Serious applicants only need apply. Continue reading