CATCH MY WORDS to find help with teaching strategies, resources, or to enjoy a laugh or music. Blog connected to Catch My Products, the gifted department store with resources for K - 12.
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My humorous thoughts about life.
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One year ago, I'll bet you had never heard of "Catch My Words." Although I started this blog in July of 2009, my posts were infrequent and ignored. In reality, my blog didn't actually take off until the A-Z Challenge in April 2011. Last year at this time, I'd received under three-hundred hits total and had as many followers as I could count on one hand.
I also posted sporadically. Looking back to last year, I had posted once in August and once in September. The September post, an editor's writing contest, received zero comments. After that, I didn't post anything until November–Colonoscopy This too received zero comments, even though it used a slight bit of humor. If no one reads my post, is it still funny?
Now I post about three to four times a week and get over 200 hits each day. My latest stats show 8,791 hits in August, which was more than I received in 2009 and 2010 combined. One day in August, I received a record number of hits: 529. Since then, I've broken 400 many times.
Longing is a dangerous topic because you just might get what you wish for.
When I was a little tyke, I longed to be "big" so I could do what my older brother and sisters did. However, I didn't realize that getting "big" meant they'd be bigger and leave me for college. So, I longed to go to college too. In fact, I wanted to leave so badly I skipped my senior year of high school and left home early.
Later, I graduated college and longed to meet Mr. Right. Not that I was desperate, but I'd kissed a few frogs (with dead flies in the ear) and was ready for the prince.
After meeting and marrying my husband, we longed for children. Children are wonderful but to quote Bill Cosby, "God has a sense of humor," and if you've been reading my blog for long, you know our kids do too. While working to civilize kids, we tend to grow uncivilized. For example, how many times have you seen a mom spit on her finger to clean a kid's face? Wipe a kid's nose with a dirty Kleenex of shirt tale? I rest my case.
Later, we longed to be out of diapers or an awkward stage of child development. Unfortunately, during all that wishing, the kids grew up and moved away. Now I wish for the vacation, holiday, or even retirement so that I may see the kids again. When these "longed for" times arrive, I'll only be older. Maybe I'll even be bored when I retire; but still, it's as if so many of us long our lives away.
None-the-less . . . I wish it were summer vacation again.
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This Sunday I've been offered two bloggy opportunities. Rhonda over at Laugh Quotes is experimenting with her new Silly Sunday and my GBE 2 group has dropped the topic of "Growing Wild." As one who usually writes humor, these topics are made for me, but not today. "Growing Wild" must take on a unique interpretation that fits the definition of "without restraint" because my good friend will soon be free.
My Friend and Me
Dear Swaz,
I'm sorry for being so selfish yesterday morning. You gave me the message, but I just didn't want to see it. I held onto the hope that things could get better. They're not. The smell of death is all around you. Honey Bear and Millie know it as they sniff and keep their distance. You won't eat, drink, and although you've tried to stand your body has given out. We've been together for almost thirteen years, which is a long time for a golden retriever like you. If you were human, we'd be celebrating your Bar Mitzvah, but you got the fate of a canine and we're preparing for your death instead. I remember picking you up from a home in Mississippi where I met your beautiful parents--Precious and Rebel. I'm sure they are waiting for you as are many of your brothers and sisters because baby, you've lived a long life. That day we got you, you were the round puppy with the pretty face. You shook in my arms the entire trip home but soon adjusted to the family where you were loved completely. I will miss you greeting me at the door when I come home, your tail wag, but most of all the special way you used to sing to us when we called our lover dog. If you want to go now, I give you permission because I don't want you to suffer anymore. Daddy will be home around two. If you're still breathing, we'll help you to go. I love you, Swaz, and eventually I'll find a way to stop crying because now you will find a way to grow wild in a place where you can run free.
Mommy
Not great quality, but here are some pictures from his younger days.
When I was in fifth grade, my best friend Kate was quite beautiful and as a result, just about every fellow in class had a crush on her. Being her best friend, the boys assumed I knew which lucky guy she liked back. I did. She had indeed trusted me with this secret and I promised I wouldn't tell.
Shortly after that, the boys attacked me on the playground and pinned my arm behind my back in an attempt to get me to reveal her secret. I still did not tell. So imagine the horror I felt when Kate had another secret, but said, "I'm not going to tell you because you'll tell everyone."
I was mortified! How dare her! Although they tortured me, I kept her trust. Now that approximately forty years have gone by, and Kate disappeared never to show up at a high school reunion, I owe it to her to break that trust and tell ALL of you bloggy friends Kate's secret. Ha, ha, ha!
Famous Fish!
Kate liked Fish. If you don't know who Fish is, rent the movie Fargo and watch the airport scene. Our dear classmate grew up to be an actor and he is the fellow working the airport toll booth when the criminal drives through. I was so thankful Fish didn't get shot because that dude in the car was crazy! I understand Fish is in a new movie called Mayor Cupcake. I must rent it. As for who Kate is: I haven't seen her in any movies, but I'll let you know when I do.
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When given the topic of instinct, I can't help but remember our first and only attempt at mating a dog. Let me clarify this for you knuckle heads, we didn't mate with our dog but rather found him a golden beauty in heat. Her papers read "pure bread," just like our first child.
Never did my husband place his arm around our young golden retriever and explain the birds and the bees, nor did I read him "Where Did I Come From?" by Peter Mayle. We didn't get him a bouquet of roses to give to his girl on their first date, nor did he even shower for the event. Yet Swizzle knew what to do. As soon as the female strutted her goldeness into the yard, he jumped on her with embarrassing thrusts that belonged in a porno flick. Those two rolled and swayed, then our studly dog slip on his bathrobe and lit a cigar.
This made me think back to early man and wonder if they too knew instinctively what to do because the young humans of today seem clueless without instructional videos or sex education at school. What did that cave woman think when the blood first poured out of her and onto a rock? If no one ever discussed mating rituals, would young people today instinctively know what to do? I think not.
Sadly, our dog's fatherhood adventures turned south when the bitch's owners caught her digging in the backyard. Over the course of the pregnancy, she'd miscarried and instinctively knew to bury her lost pups. Having been pregnant three times, I can't imagine losing a baby and digging a hole in the ground. As humans, we've lost this natural animal instinct, but where did it go? Perhaps communication has made it easy to forget what we used to know without being told.
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This week's blogging group challenge is "Midnight." What is it about this special time being the bewitching hour and all kinds of creepy stuff happening when the clock strikes twelve? For example, take Cinderella.
Her Fairy Godmother said, "Be home by midnight or your carriage will turn into a pumpkin and you'll be back to wearing rags." Talk about tough love! Really, lady? First off, why a pumpkin? That frail chick couldn't even carry her round ride home without pulling out her wimpy spine. If she tried to roll it, the thing would probably hit a rock and get her arrested for smashing gourds in the street. At least turn it into a cell phone so she could call for a ride. But oh wait, she's a prisoner of her evil step mother and has no one to call. Such a pathetic role model for our young girls.
Elizabeth - My heroine!
Cinderella wears rags, but I'm not one to judge folks by their clothing. Look at Elizabeth the Paper Bag Princess. The dragon came to town, burned her duds, and kidnapped her stuck-up Prince Ronald (no relation to the clown), so she took off to save him with only a paper bag to grant her modesty.
Now, think about this. Would you go to a fire breathing dragon with just a paper bag on? Let's hope he's not a horny devil. Anyway, this tough chick outsmarted the dragon and rescued the prince who wanted her to comb her hair and shower. She didn't need a Fairy Godmother to tell her to dump the creep. She told him to take a hike all by her little self.
But I digress : Midnight
I remember this great song by Eric Clapton, "After Midnight." He had that one right. In those days the party didn't even get started until after midnight. Now if only I could stay up that late. . . but that's another post. Thanks, Beth! This one was fun.
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We have a most unique challenge with the GBE 2 group, and as a writer, I'm certainly up for this one. Write a 100 word fiction story. I'm all on it, with the exception that I've cheated a little by taking a story I wrote some time ago and cutting it down, but what do you want? I'm vacationing in Charleston. Today, I even tried a paddle boat for the first and last time. After falling into the Charleston Harbor, I decided to swap it for a kayak. Then I went up Shem's Creek where two playful dolphins jumped in front of my boat.
Here is a story that has nothing to do with paddle boating, kayaking, or Charleston, but I hope you like it anyway. It can't be over 100 words, including the title. Really, Beth? "You're killing me Smalls."
Ballymote Castle
Wretched Life
by
Joyce Paull Lansky
Jeremy followed the tour under a familiar tapestry suspended in the banquet hall. He’d been fascinated by fourteenth century Ireland. Now, he was there!
Staring at a cauldron, he felt certain he'd eaten scraps of honey-covered mutton from the Master’s platter. Worse, he'd slept nude on hay-covered dung while the Lord and Lady enjoyed a cozy pallet; but, being naked was better than wearing insect-infested tunics.
After climbing slyly-constructed, irregular steps that circled a stone column, he ducked under the wall's arrow slit. Jeremy cringed from the memory of the arrow that had ended his wretched past life.
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