Computer Frustration

"Stop that!" Lisa shouted at her computer and pounded on the monitor. "Stop telling me I'm..."

...not meeting benchmark! I'm smarter than you think. You're just a stupid machine!"

I walked over to Lisa. She was sobbing, head on her arms, face pressed into the keyboard. Sensing my presence, her muffled, watery voice continued after a loud hiccup, "I'm NOT dumb!"

Looking around the lab at twenty-six other faces, the first traces of worry lines etching across nine year old foreheads, I sighed. Each child on a quest toward a magic number, they were mulitple-choicing their way toward state assessment scores.

Knowing there was no such topic, I didn't flip through the testing manual in search of Dealing-With-Children-Who-Melt-Down-Based-On-Our-Numbers.

Instead, while pressing a tissue into Lisa's hand I wondered how to comfort her with the response discussed at a pre-testing meeting:

"Oh, don't worry. Before May 15th, you can take the test again. Twice."

Different point of view from author Ric Hardson:

"Stop that!" Lisa shouted at her computer and pounded on the monitor. "Stop telling me I'm..."

...never gonna be a writer!"

The computer screen had just blacked out. Jerking the laptop toward herself, its hard drive responded by powering down with a deathly sigh.

"C**p! I didn't mean it! C**p! I didn't save! C**p! three chapters I gotta reinvent! C**p! C**p! C**p!"

Angrily hyperventilating, Lisa snapped the lid shut. Violently pushing away from the desk, she tipped the chair, crashing onto the floor.

Disentangling herself, taking a deep breath, she set the chair back up. Tracing the computer's power cord to discover the problem, Lisa sheepishly reinserted the plug into the outlet.

Open once more to its upright position, Lisa's trusty PowerBook hummed back to life. Its bright screen full of text smiled at her.

Knowing it would be silly to hug a laptop she whispered, "You're right. Lesson learned."

Relieved, Lisa continued writing. Right after she hit SAVE.

source: http://www.scribesvalley.com/uwriteitweek274.html

Forever . . . After All

"I love you..." you'd say.
"After ALL of these years?"
Then we'd laugh ourselves silly
and almost to tears.

"After ALL of these years,
I love you, too. . ."
(Tho' it had been only weeks
that I had known you.)

"After ALL of these years . . ."
we'd solemnly swear,
Then we'd marvel how quickly
Love brought us there.

A decade is ten years,
Twenty's a score,
Now . . .
Twenty-SIX years later...
I love you MUCH MORE!

Happy Valentine’s Day!



Revised a poem I wrote several years ago, entered it in a contest where I sent it to my own true love as a Valentine. It won third prize, a lamp that will just fit perfectly in our "Rose Room" guest bedroom.

source:
http://www.celebrating-valentinesday.com/contest.shtml#prizes

Mixed Emotions

Ricky had mixed emotions about his raise and promotion, because everyone else was...
...simplifying, eschewing money, possessions, and personal accolades. Dan traded his Mustang for a ratty van. Larissa, if she shopped, haunted thrift stores. Norm bartered leather candle holders for stunted vegetables. Stella spent her bus fare buying seed beads to make necklaces. Smiling vacuously, she'd hand them out like trick or treats to complete strangers.

Pretty sure he was born in the wrong era, Ricky detested this whole hippy existence. Oh, he'd given it a try. Summer of Love and all that. Drove to San Francisco with the four of them. Bought all the gas. Shared his jug of wine. Got his sleeping bag ripped off by some "brother" reeking of mildewed patchouli.

Like a loose checker knocking around in a box of puzzle pieces, Ricky just didn't fit.

Taking a last look around at his party guests passed out on the floor, Ricky shut the door and never looked back.

Different point of view from author Ric Hardson:

Ricky had mixed emotions about his raise and promotion, because everyone else was...
...gone for the night by the time La Diva brought it up.

"Ricky, dear, join me? Drinky-poo?" La Diva beckoned from across the darkened lounge. The rhinestone shoe buckle ring winked seductively from that ruby taloned hand.

Ricky picked up the whipped peach cocktail in one hand and his icy Corona in the other. "Here ya go, Boss."

Inhaling the drink through a clear plastic straw, La Diva finished it off quickly with three very loud, very unladylike gurgles. "Okay, toots. Here's the deal: your weekly pay will most likely double just working weekends."

Ricky knew he was a great bartender, but the offer astounded him.

"Course you'll need a new 'do, flashier clothes." La Diva dropped out of character once again, burped, and slapped Ricky on the back. "How's the name Sharon LaStones sound?"

Ricky was no longer sure he wanted to tend bar at a club featuring female impersonators.

source:
http://www.scribesvalley.com/uwriteitweek273.html

Shoe Stories

It took Christy a full minute to realize that the thing moving in her shoe was a...

...foot no longer hers.

Rocking a final time the shoe settled upright, inches from her face. She lifted her throbbing head with searing difficulty. Falling from her sticky cheek, gravel shards tick-ticked onto the cool pavement. Shaking her head, blinking to clear her vision, Christy stared at her ankle's fairy tattoo.

The juxtaposition what should be and what was battled in her brain. Painfully sucking in a partial lungful of air, Christy sharpened the focus of her worm's eye view. Exhaling, she tasted a sour ghost breath of coconut, pineapple, and rum.

Wailing sirens filled her ears, her brain, her soul. Her peripheral vision closed to a pinpoint. Summoning the core of her very being, she scraped-lifted-extended a shredded hand toward her companionless shoe. The black hole of Christy's pavement world began sucking her deep into its maw. A silent tear slid earthward as she whispered, "Tinkerbell--"

Different point of view from author Ric Hardson:

It took Christy a full minute to realize that the thing moving in her shoe was a...
...banana slug. She didn't notice it at first. Even though the sun was already rising, it was purply dark beneath the trees. Thank goodness she did notice it. The thought of her bare foot sharing shoe space with a slimy slug made her skin crawl.

Christy used a twig to ease the spotted creature onto the leafy ground next to her sleeping bag. Perplexed with its change of venue, the slug's stalks wavered back and forth seeking information. Christy didn't know whether it was the slant of sunshine or the chill of a miniscule breeze, but something engaged the slug's internal GPS system. Its upper body rose a half inch before angling away.

At the speed of spilled molasses, the banana slug traveled toward deeper shadows. The thought of his body sharing such close quarters with a naked foot made his skin crawl.

source:
http://www.scribesvalley.com/uwriteitweek272.html

Little Brother Tries Taxidermy

Sally carefully opened the box and jumped back as...

...the stub end of a bloody thumb gave a little wiggle.

"DANG IT, CHRIS!"

Laughing wildly, the boy shot out of the room clutching the small gold pasteboard box.

"What a PILL!" she muttered, embarrassed at being suckered into another of his pranks. She settled back in the armchair with her copy of Little Women, wishing she had sisters instead of that little stinker.

"DANG IT, CHRIS!"

Sally awoke to Chris racing past, Mama hot on his heels.

Figuring further pursuit useless, Mama stopped. "That BOY!" she huffed.

"What this time, Mama?"

Mama unfurled the fingers of one clenched fist. "I found THIS while emptying his pockets for laundry."

"EEEEWW!" Sally wrinkled her nose. "What IS it?"

"It WAS," Mama explained, "my first spring peeper, BEFORE your brother tried his hand at taxidermy with a cotton ball and my BEST crochet thread!"

source:
http://www.scribesvalley.com/uwriteitweek270.html

Checked Out!

A library card is a like a magic ticket: you never know where it will take you!

My parent's words. A right of passage in our house was writing your name for the very first time, all by yourself, on your very own library card.

With one teacher’s salary and six kids, those library cards were our equivalent of the old Disneyland E-ticket. We rode those book adventures throughout the week, then came back for more the next Saturday afternoon.

Offering even more than books, the library became a work-study treasure trove; it paid most of my college tuition. What a dream job; being surrounded by books and the thoughts of thousands of writers.

Looking out the window on the first day of summer school, I noticed that across the courtyard from my classroom was the library. This sixth grade teacher went right over and checked out something that caught my eye . . . the librarian!

How many librarians do you know who were born in a public library? I was fascinated. Found out later that the building was a hospital before it was a library, but it made a good story.

Magic or not, that’s where I found my own true love. I checked him out, never returned him, and that was 26 years ago!

Entered in a Valentine's Day essay contest on February 8, 2008, at http://fancifullgiftbaskets.com, won a $25.00 gift certificate.

Viewers rated it (16 votes, average: 3.88 out of 5)

source:
http://fancifullgiftbaskets.com/wp/2008/02/08/checked-out/

The Miniature Plastic Pterodactyl

Benjamin whispered to Christopher, "I've been watching it for two hours and it just now sat up and..."

...turned its head!

Goggle-eyed, Christopher reached toward the miniature plastic pterodactyl. "DON'T!" Benjamin shriek-whispered, grabbing Christopher's arm just in time to keep his fingers from touching the long-beaked head.

Blinking, the pterodactyl opened its mouth. Out came the tiniest of sounds: Crock!

"What're you gonna do, Benjy? Are you gonna name it? Will your mom let you keep it?" Questions tumbled out of Christopher's mouth like jellybeans from a candy machine.

"Are you nuts, Chris? Of course Mom won't let me keep it," Benjamin shook his head remorsefully. "Remember the glass dragon? The fire? I'm still spending my allowance on these new curtains."

Christopher interrupted excitedly, "Well, I'll take it."

GRAAAAAAAAWK!

Both boys stared slack jawed as the pterodactyl soared up into the air and right out Benjamin's open bedroom window.

source:
http://www.scribesvalley.com/uwriteitweek269.html

To practice my writing, I've discovered Scribes Valley Publishing's weekly U-Write-It Online Writing Contest/Challenge at http://scribesvalley.com/uwriteit.html

Aprons from the 40s

Remember the Golden Age of Housewifery?

Just like a back door neighbor
I dropped in on Carolyn
and from her kitchen door I heard,
“Hey, Sweetie, come on in!”

Click, click, her heels tapped smartly
‘cross her bright and shiny floor.
(In that stunning aqua apron
she was Dorothy Lamour!)

Sitting on her counter was
an old black and white t.v.
“Oh, I LOVE vintage Lucy shows—
Her apron is so ‘me’!”

“But, Sweetie, just a minute!
What would your hubby think
if your apron was this Marilyn?”

I thought . . .
“Well–
he’d be tickled pink!”



Inspired by a visit to Carolyn's Kitchen (http://www.carolynskitchenonline.com/ ) where you will find the most glamorous aprons and rubber gloves in the world! Creator Carolyn West sent the gorgeous apron and glove set from her 'Dorothy' line. We're not talking Dorothy from Oz, this is strictly Dorothy Lamour!