My Funny Valentine

My Dearest Darling,

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and will be, or would have been, our 65th Wedding Anniversary. Every year at this time of year, I reminisce about the 51 wonderful years we had together. (Rather, 51 wonderful years we would have had together if I had not caught you sleeping with that slut woman! And right under my nose, you dog!). And, every year, at this time of year, I write you a letter. Tomorrow, I will place this letter with all the other letters, with your remains.

Remember darling how much in love we were when we got married? (Yes, I know daddy told you to marry me or else he would give you a job at the car lot?). But you told me you loved me and I certainly loved you because I was pregnant. (Don't you remember telling me that if I loved you I would sleep with oh, nevermind).

Oh that wonderful day when little John was born. He was such a beautiful baby. (Yes, I know you said he looked just like Frankie, your best friend you). And he was such a good little boy. (Except for the time he peed all over your shoes in the closet and set your pants on fire). But you took it well (after you screamed at him you were going to KILL punish him).

Next came our little girl, Cheryl and another little boy, Charles. You loved being their father and would give them piggy back rides (after I stole your car keys so you couldn't leave).

Now the kids have all grown up and moved away. I know you said you wouldn't would miss them. I miss them too. They still don't know you have passed away. I lied to told them you ran off with that slut other woman and I haven't seen hide nor hair of you.

Little do they know you are just a worthless bag of bones in the attic along with a bunch of hateful loving letters.

Lovingly,

Your Funny Valentine

Your Crazy Wife

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Extraordinary Language Translator

Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a special power to be able to speak and understand any language in this world? If you could choose any language, other than your own, which would you choose? Well, I am a bit greedy in this matter because I want the ability to speak and understand ALL of them.

While I was contemplating this, I realized this may not be too far off the possibility scale. In time, I think there will be a “gadget” and software that will allow us to do just that. After all, who would have thought, in the 1700's there was going to be automobiles and airplanes? Or, in the 1800's there would such a thing as television and computers, or that we would put a man on the moon? Or in the early 1900's that we could actually be far away from a person and see them and talk to them at the same time? Obviously, someone imagined these ideas sometime in the past. As long as mankind is still on this earth, there will be many more wonderful and amazing inventions.

For this reason, I truly believe that someday we will all be able to understand one another no matter what country we live in or which language we speak. I can see it being part of our computers, iPads, Phones, and tablets. I can also see a headphone you can put on which hears the foreign language and translates it into your native tongue. When you communicate with the other person, you talk in your native tongue and their headsets will do the same for them. Who knows? Maybe it already has been invented but is being fine-tuned before release.

As with every new invention, it's first introduction is of a product that is large and bulky, but in time, it is fine-tuned into something that is streamlined and practically weightless. So will it be with this Extraordinary Language Translator.

Someday, when we are all outfitted with this gadget, you will remember this post and think, “Dang, she was right!” And I will be thinking, “Why in the hell didn't I patent that idea?”

Daily Prompt: Language

 

My Special Ingredient

I have a secret. There is an ingredient in my kitchen that I absolutely cannot cook without. When I do try cooking without it, my meals are just “so-so”. When I use this ingredient, my cooking is fabulous!

I found the seeds of this ingredient when I was a very young child. Once I planted these seeds, the ingredient started growing ferociously. When it blooms, it is instantly ready to use in my meals.

This ingredient really isn't a secret. In fact, every kitchen has it. Sadly, many cooks choose not to use it.

Personally, I cannot cook without it. Well that isn't really true. I can cook without it but I choose not to. I want my meals to be more than so-so. I want my meals to be fabulous.

Every recipe has “ingredients” specified. My special ingredient is found in-between the lines of those recipe ingredients.

When the recipe says, add 1/4 cup of such and such, my mind sees it as saying, “add 1/4 cup of such and such PLUS a little of this and a little of that.”

When the recipe says, “add 2 teaspoons of this,” my mind sees it as saying, “add 2 teaspoons of this PLUS a pinch of this and 2 pinches of that.”

This ingredient isn't found growing in vegetable gardens. Instead, it is found in the fertile garden of our minds. The seeds are planted while we are very young children. With proper care, the ingredient continues growing, making our personal worlds all the more wonderful. We see more colors, smell more smells, feel more wonderous things and taste many more delicious foods. We become so much more than we could become without it.

Try using this ingredient next time you cook. It is called imagination. Search in-between the lines of your recipes and these special ingredients will jump right out at you. It makes cooking so much more fun, and eating the food much more enjoyable.

Now that my secret is out, everyone is going to be cooking extra delicious meals.

That's okay though. It's been lonely up here at the top.

Daily Post: Ingredients: What is the one item in my home that I cannot cook without?

Neighbor from Hell

When I purchased my home and property, I had a 6' chain link fence put completely around my property. The reason for this, is I have always wanted a “living fence”. A living fence is when you have plants and vines that cover the fence and make it private and it looks beautiful.

When I did this, I did not even know my next door neighbors. After the fence was erected he let me know he wasn't pleased that I had errected a chain link fence instead of a privacy board fence. Of course, he didn't tell me this until the fence had already been erected and nor did he offer to pay for part of it.

After several years and the ivies had taken hold on the fence, he asked me why I wanted a chain link fence. I told him, “I have always wanted a living fence.” Apparently, this pissed him off and he put weed killer along the line of the fence on his side, which promptly killed all my ivies, roses, and other shrubs.

I expressed my anger to him about what he had done, and oddly, after that my shrubs, bushes and vines started being killed off. It was a very ugly mess and my the taste in my mouth of this person is very very bitter.

I had a beautiful Malmute watchdog and a friend came over to visit and caught him sticking a stick through the fence trying to hit my dog.

His daughters went out in front of my house on the street on July 4, and pointed all their fire works straight over into my yard. My dogs are terrified of fireworks. The next morning, I had to pick out the litter from the fireworks from inside my bushes, off the roof of my house, and every place you can imagine — inside my yard. I was fit to be tied.

When I watered “my fence”or what was left of my plants, their daughter would stand out there water and make fun of my watering skills.

They wouldn't pick up the dog waste from their dogs even though I asked them several time to do so. (They were causing a great deal of flies). They did nothing. I went and bought a nice super duper pooper scooper and put it over the fence to their side. They still wouldn't pick up their dog's waste.

One day he had his pit pull over into his yard and the pit bull climbed over his fence on the other side away from me. (The side that had a solid wood fence). He took that dog and stuck it into my yard. I went over and asked him to remove his dog. He didn't make a single move. I called his wife and told her what he had done and all she did was laugh. I went back over to my yard to try and get the dog out of my yard and the dog started growling at me. I went back over and asked him to come remove the dog, because it was growling at me. He then came over and got the dog out and then just released it to the streets to fend for itself. He literally dumped his dog on the streets.

Since all of this, I have called this family, “My Neighbors from Hell.”

They finally moved away, but they rent out their house. So unfortunately they come over to the house from time to time.

The moral of this story is, regarding the saying, “Fences Make Good Neighbors, in my experience, Fences DO NOT make good neighbors.

Daily Post February 8 Fences

 

Magical Widget Gadget Thingy

Today, the Daily Post has given us the magical engineering skills to build any widget or gadget that our little brains can think up. (Rubbing my hands together as my brain is clicking, creaking, and squeaking).

I have just invented the ONE AND ONLY POINT AND SHOOT ZAPPER GUN!

You are wondering, I am sure, just what the purpose is of this Zapper Gun. Just wait… it is going to blow you away (and I mean that literally if you are a murderer, predator, pedophile, or terrorist).

This amazing gun will turn the most feared murderer, terrorist, pedophile, predator, bad boy, or meany into a bumbling idiot. Every single bad thought, gene, or tendency in them will be blown away. Zap them just one time with this gun and they will feel the “horrific grip of hell” and be so afraid they will turn into a scared little crying minion with absolutely no more “bad” tendencies. If this zapper gun shoots a law abiding citizen, they will not be able to feel it and absolutely nothing will happen. But, if you shoot one of these low lifes of society, they will feel it. THEY WILL FEEL THE TERRIFYING GRIP OF HELL!

I only have the power to make one of these guns, therefore, I cannot keep it. It is simply too phenomenal to keep to myself. I have given it to the American FBI.

The great news is…NO MORE MURDERERS, NO MORE PREDATORS, NO MORE PEDOPHILES, AND NO MORE PAIN CAUSED BY THESE RUTHLESS LOWLIFES OF SOCIETY. And, get this….they WILL NOT BE STUCK IN OUR AMERICAN PRISON SYSTEMS! What does that mean for you? YOUR TAXES WILL GO DOWN! Isn't that wonderful??

Yes, my friend, you will have more money every month to live on. You will be able to go on those much-needed vacations and cruises you have wanted to go on for so long.

You will have more money to pay bills and buy groceries. You can even go buy a brand new car!

There is only one thing…. This isn't good news if you are one of these lowlifes of society.

 

 

Me Versus Household Tasks

Today's Daily Prompt today: What household tasks do I dislike doing the most? Why? Is it the task or something more?

Housework makes me think of the age old saying, “Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”

The first thing I hate doing the most is cleaning the bathrooms. I hate hate hate cleaning the bathrooms. They get done of course. Once I start the task of cleaning them it isn't so bad after all, but I still have a looming dread prior to the task.

The other household tasks, I really don't mind doing and most of the time, I am motivated in doing them. I want my home to be clean and fresh and even more so now that it is on the market.

However, this week for some reason, I have had some lack in motivation. On Monday of this week, I put my furniture polish and rag on top of my old television with the purpose of dusting. Today is Thursday and the polish and rag is still there (and I haven't dusted). This week I am procrastinating.

 

 

 

 

I think it is okay to procrastinate once in a while and give yourself a break. For me, it is like a pat on the back for ever doing housework at all.

It helps me to remind myself, “IT IS OKAY TO GO ONE WEEK WITHOUT DUSTING. IT IS OKAY NOT TO BE PERFECT. IT IS OKAY TO NOT WORRY WHAT OTHER PEOPLE WILL THINK.”

I get wrapped up in, “What if someone comes over and sees dust on my furniture? Or, what if potential buyers come in and see dust on my furniture?”

GUESS WHAT!? THE WORLD WILL NOT END! With that in mind, I think I will simply do blogging today.

Besides, why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?

 

Hee Haw Hee Haw

The Daily Post challenge: Embarrassment.

When I was working for a large company in our area, I was in charge of our yearly “Awards Banquet” for quite a few years. As part of the Awards Banquets there was always an “employee entertainment” where employees put on “skits” (short plays) for the attendees.

In order to put together the Awards Banquet I had to chair an “Awards Banquet Committee.”

One year, several of the people on the Committee came up with the idea to base our skits on “Hee Haw.” Hee Haw was a popular weekly television show in the 1960's-70's. We all agreed this would be our theme for that year. Together, we began writing out our various skits. We had a lot of fun writing the scripts and came up with great ideas.

Everyone on the committe had some type of role in the skits, as well as any other employees that we could “rope” into it.

We all practiced faithfully and came up with some great skits, costumes and props.

Finally, the Awards Banquet night came. We were all excited and of course, very nervous. I was particularly nervous because of having to get up in front of so many people and “act.” I'm not the type of person that enjoys making a fool out of myself, particularly in front of all the supervisors and managers of this company, including the President and Vice Presidents who came down from Headquarters to attend.

One of the last times I had gotten up on stage in front a room full of people was when I was six years old. Our classroom had to get up on stage and sing Christmas songs for our annual Christmas pageant. I was so scared that I started nervously giggling (instead of singing) and snot came running out of my nose. (I had a cold). That upset me and embarrassed me so much that I then peed my pants. Obviously, after that, I was not enthusiastic about getting on stage in front of a lot of people.

Everyone at the Banquet was dressed very nicely. The women wore long beautiful gowns and the men wore fancy suits. Those of us on the committee wore men's flannel shirts under old worn out denim overall bibs carrying pitchforks and brooms. Our faces were adorned with freckles and we women wore our hair in “pigtails.” We looked just like we were suppose to look; hillbillies from the backwoods of the Ozarks.

We all got up on the stage to do our respective skits. One of my skits included my partner and I moving up and down by bending our knees (like they did in Hee Haw) and singing. Of course, par to course for me, I got confused by the up and down movement and singing our song at the same time, that I forgot part of our song. I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. I wanted to run to the restroom and hide for the rest of the evening.

Because I was the head of the Banquet, I had to go through the evening as if nothing happened.

(At least I didn't pee my pants).

 

The New Miss Marilyn Monroe

Since we are dreaming today for Daily Post: The Show Must Go On I have chosen to act and to be the new Miss Marilyn Monroe.

My idiot producer just came into my dressing room and screamed at me, “Be out there in five minutes and DO SEXY!”

Flippantly, I answered, “Sorry bud, I don't do sexy!”

His anger was burning red hot in his face.

“Like I said, be on the stage in five minutes and BE SEXY!” He growled.

Continuing to put on my make-up and without turning to look at him I retorted, “NO! I am NOT going to BE sexy!”

“What the hell Marilyn?! That is what you were hired for, to DO and BE sexy!”

This is when I turned to stare him right in the face, “To HELL with you Bob. You hired me to be ME. GOT THAT?! ME ME ME!”

I turned back to the mirror to finish my makeup while Bob sat down on the couch,

“Marilyn, that is what your legacy is, it is SEXY! The show will be ruined if you don't do SEXY!”

Once again, I stopped putting on my makeup, “Bob, you know how my life ended. I took a fistful of pills and KILLED MYSELF! Are you wanting me to do that again?”

He put his face into his hands, “No, of course not. I just WANT YOU TO BE SEXY!”

“Nope.” I answered, “I will not be what you want me to be.”

“Why?” He asked with obvious frustration, “You don't drink anymore. You don't take your pills anymore. NOW you don't do sexy? Why for Heaven's sake?”

“Because I want to live. I get ONE CHANCE for a do over, and this is my chance to change what happened to me. I am changing! I have changed!”

Sounding defeated, Bob replied, “Well Marilyn. The show must go on.”

Bob left the dressing room with his head down and slowly walked out on the stage and announced to the audience, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to the New Miss Marilyn Monroe.”

I walked out onto stage and the entire theatre stood up clapping and whistling. I had a nice peach colored gown on. It was slightly fitting to my body, but wasn't considered “sexy.” I still had the audience. They still loved me. I was so happy. What was even better, Bob was too.

The play, “The New Miss Marilyn Monroe,” was a hit. The audience loved me! They loved a girl from a hick town that doesn't get up in front of them and shake her “girls.” I was finally being treated with respect. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, something I didn't have in my previous life and it felt good. It felt DAMN GOOD!

But that was forty-five years ago. As I look at my reflection in my mirror, I see a beautiful woman that doesn't look a day over thirty. My acting days are over. All I want to do now is to spend time with my husband and family. Today, my grandchildren are here and my husband and I are taking them to the zoo.

As I hurry down the stairs, I see my precious grandchildren and my loving husband. I am so thankful, so very thankful to have been given another chance. My maid, Maria, has prepared a nice breakfast and it smells delicious. I hear the children as they coming running toward me with my husband in tow,

“Grandmother! Grandmother!”

“Hello my precious little cherubs!

Suddenly, Richard (my husband) yelled out, “CUT! THAT'S A WRAP!”

It had been a long day of shooting and I was very glad the day was over. My husband, the producer, walked over to me and planted a kiss on my cheek. Through the corner of my eye I saw a movement coming toward me. I turned to see and it was Marilyn Monroe. She walked up to me and grabbed my hands, “You were wonderful playing me!”

I was shocked! I didn't know she was even here. As I gasped, I managed to ask, “Marilyn, I didn't know you were here.” I felt so small compared to this big name celebrity.

“My husband and family were up in the loft watching the take.”

About that time a handsome man, about her age, and two small children walked up to join her.

I shook her husband's hand and introduced myself.

“Sure, I know who you are. Marilyn has been talking about how wonderful your acting is.”

My husband gave me a squeeze.

Marilyn introduced us to her two young grandchildren, Isabella and Christian. She and her husband both said their goodbyes to us and then took the hands of Isabella and Christian saying to them, “Let's have breakfast and take off for the zoo.”

Still in shock, I looked at my husband, “She doesn't look a day over thirty!”

(Photographs from Pinterest).

 

Life is for Living

I finally found myself in the year of 2010. The reason I say this is because I was lost for the two years prior to 2010. My husband died and my world went blank for two years. In June, 2008, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. Two weeks later, he died. I did not have time to process the fact he was dying because it happened so suddenly. I can talk about this now. Before now, I was not able to.

My husband was a large man, but not fat. He was 6'2″ and weighed 185 lbs. I think that most of that 185 pounds was muscle. He was a contractor and built homes for a living. He was a good provider. He was also a good husband. I wish I could say he was also a good father, but unfortunately, we were not able to have children. Prior to his diagnosis we had been talking about me getting fertility treatments. Once he was diagnosed with late stage cancer, we couldn't even think about that anymore because it was no longer our priority.

The doctor told us that there was no cure for his cancer, especially at the late stage that it was. I wanted to fight. I wanted him to do everything he could to try and beat that damn cancer. But he said no. He said that it would only prolong his suffering and he didn't want to do that. He asked me to try and understand.

“Understand what? Understand that you don't want to live anymore? Understand that you don't want to be my husband anymore?”

“No sweetheart,” he told me softly, “that is not it at all. I love you more today than the day I married you. I just refuse to be a burden on you. I refuse to suffer trying to get a cure, trying to find some little grain of hope, when in truth, there is none.”

The tears stung my cheeks with a fire I hated worse than anything I had ever felt before. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DAMN YOU CANCER, I HATE YOU!” My sobs left me gasping for breath. He had his arms around me, understanding the agony I was in. We just stood there holding each other. Neither of us, at that time, knew how long he had left to live. I never even dreamed he would be taken from me just two short weeks later. I know now that that was the best. That meant he didn't have to suffer long. I was the one that was left to sufffer.

Like I said, I don't remember much of those two years after he died. My mind pretty much went blank. I just went through the motions of living, but I wasn't living, in truth, I was dead inside.

Two weeks after James died, I finally had the nerve to look through some of his things. I wanted to smell his smell. I wanted to touch what he touched. I just wanted to be near him and this was as close as I could get now. In the pocket of his jacket, I found a letter. The letter was addressed to me.

To my beautiful wife,

If you are reading this, then I have gone. I want you to know how very much I loved you and will always love you. You are and always will be, my soul mate. I am sure right now your world is filled with darkness. Please get out of that darkness. Stay in the beautiful light that you are meant to be in. Color your world with happiness and joy. Fill your world with love and friends. I love you so very much, my dear beautiful wife.

Your loving husband,

James

For six months I slept until 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon. I only got out of bed because I felt like I had to. I would have preferred just to have stayed in bed. I hadn't worked since James and I got married. He didn't want me to work and I was happy with that. I just wanted to be a good wife and someday a good mother. Now, I am going to have to find a job and get a life. Whatever the hell that is. But now wasn't the time for that. Now wasn't the time for anything for that matter.

I read his letter every day for six months. I would read it, kiss it, touch it, and smell it. It was getting very worn and tattered. I put it inside my favorite book, next to the rose James gave me Valentine's Day.

Eight months after James died, my sister quit her job in Boston and moved to Albuquerque to be with me and find a job here. I was glad she did that for me. I needed her. God knows, I needed someone to help me get through this hell.

She found a job right away and settled into her new life here very well. I was thankful to have her company. Her presence helped pull me out of the darkness I had surrounded myself in.

On May 1, 2010, she and I decided to go to “Albuquerque Old Town.” For the first time in two years, I finally laughed again. She and I ate Stuffed Sopaipillas. They were sopaipillas that were opened up and filled with delicious ground beef, pinto beans, green chili, lettuce, tomatoes, and shredded cheese.

We browsed through the shops and enjoyed the beautiful southwestern art. My sister bought a small squash blossom necklace.

Finally, I felt alive again.

When I saw this on the side of one of the shops, I felt like James was giving me his message once again, “Color your world with happiness and joy.”

“I did it sweetheart. I finally did it,” I whispered.

The brilliant southwest sun soaked through my skin into every fiber of my being. It was time.

Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 words

 

Life is for Living

I finally found myself in the year of 2010. The reason I say this is because I was lost for the two years prior to 2010. My husband died and my world went blank for two years. In June, 2008, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. Two weeks later, he died. I did not have time to process the fact he was dying because it happened so suddenly. I can talk about this now. Before now, I was not able to.

My husband was a large man, but not fat. He was 6'2″ and weighed 185 lbs. I think that most of that 185 pounds was muscle. He was a contractor and built homes for a living. He was a good provider. He was also a good husband. I wish I could say he was also a good father, but unfortunately, we were not able to have children. Prior to his diagnosis we had been talking about me getting fertility treatments. Once he was diagnosed with late stage cancer, we couldn't even think about that anymore because it was no longer our priority.

The doctor told us that there was no cure for his cancer, especially at the late stage that it was. I wanted to fight. I wanted him to do everything he could to try and beat that damn cancer. But he said no. He said that it would only prolong his suffering and he didn't want to do that. He asked me to try and understand.

“Understand what? Understand that you don't want to live anymore? Understand that you don't want to be my husband anymore?”

“No sweetheart,” he told me softly, “that is not it at all. I love you more today than the day I married you. I just refuse to be a burden on you. I refuse to suffer trying to get a cure, trying to find some little grain of hope, when in truth, there is none.”

The tears stung my cheeks with a fire I hated worse than anything I had ever felt before. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DAMN YOU CANCER, I HATE YOU!” My sobs left me gasping for breath. He had his arms around me, understanding the agony I was in. We just stood there holding each other. Neither of us, at that time, knew how long he had left to live. I never even dreamed he would be taken from me just two short weeks later. I know now that that was the best. That meant he didn't have to suffer long. I was the one that was left to sufffer.

Like I said, I don't remember much of those two years after he died. My mind pretty much went blank. I just went through the motions of living, but I wasn't living, in truth, I was dead inside.

Two weeks after James died, I finally had the nerve to look through some of his things. I wanted to smell his smell. I wanted to touch what he touched. I just wanted to be near him and this was as close as I could get now. In the pocket of his jacket, I found a letter. The letter was addressed to me.

To my beautiful wife,

If you are reading this, then I have gone. I want you to know how very much I loved you and will always love you. You are and always will be, my soul mate. I am sure right now your world is filled with darkness. Please get out of that darkness. Stay in the beautiful light that you are meant to be in. Color your world with happiness and joy. Fill your world with love and friends. I love you so very much, my dear beautiful wife.

Your loving husband,

James

For six months I slept until 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon. I only got out of bed because I felt like I had to. I would have preferred just to have stayed in bed. I hadn't worked since James and I got married. He didn't want me to work and I was happy with that. I just wanted to be a good wife and someday a good mother. Now, I am going to have to find a job and get a life. Whatever the hell that is. But now wasn't the time for that. Now wasn't the time for anything for that matter.

I read his letter every day for six months. I would read it, kiss it, touch it, and smell it. It was getting very worn and tattered. I put it inside my favorite book, next to the rose James gave me Valentine's Day.

Eight months after James died, my sister quit her job in Boston and moved to Albuquerque to be with me and find a job here. I was glad she did that for me. I needed her. God knows, I needed someone to help me get through this hell.

She found a job right away and settled into her new life here very well. I was thankful to have her company. Her presence helped pull me out of the darkness I had surrounded myself in.

On May 1, 2010, she and I decided to go to “Albuquerque Old Town.” For the first time in two years, I finally laughed again. She and I ate Stuffed Sopaipillas. They were sopaipillas that were opened up and filled with delicious ground beef, pinto beans, green chili, lettuce, tomatoes, and shredded cheese.

We browsed through the shops and enjoyed the beautiful southwestern art. My sister bought a small squash blossom necklace.

Finally, I felt alive again.

When I saw this on the side of one of the shops, I felt like James was giving me his message once again, “Color your world with happiness and joy.”

“I did it sweetheart. I finally did it,” I whispered.

The brilliant southwest sun soaked through my skin into every fiber of my being. It was time.

Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 words