Little Timmy

 

                                  

The guys in the locker room were amazed. They couldn’t believe how big it was. Some of them refused to look his way but others seemed mesmerized by it and the fact that he was captain of the swim team made it impossible to hide. He learned to accept the shunning and the staring and glaring because his mom was right, joining the team was a great idea. He’d been an avid swimmer since early childhood and the coaches and fans loved him. Truth be known, his teammates loved him too, but most of them were, admittedly, jealous. Timmy’s father gave him pep talks frequently and during those talks he was always sure to mention his own accomplishments. He was proud of the fact that his only son had seemingly inherited his athletic ability and his personality, not to mention his physical build and appearance. As a young swimmer Timmy’s dad embraced and showcased every aspect of himself no matter the audience and he was often reminded of those days when looking at his son.

During the last swim mete of the season Timmy walked out of the locker room wearing his team uniform; Speedo swim trunks and his favorite extra-long swim shirt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a group of reporters moving in his direction. Timmy immediately grinned while simultaneously removing his swim shirt. When the reporters were in close proximity Timmy swirled around and gave them a perfect view of his full – faced boyish grin and his beautiful six pack. Those were actually only two small pieces of the beautiful “man pie” that made him the eye candy that he was… and he knew it!

His ego was enormous!

Forget-Me-Not

Monday’s One-Minute Fiction challenges you to write a story in one minute, no more, no less, based on the prompt provided. For the next several weeks our prompts will be Alaska themed. This week’s prompt is the state flower: Forget-me-not.

                                Forget Me Not

                                            

How could I?  Your bold blue color is my favorite of all colors. When I look at you, I see the twinkle in your eye -that only my eye can see and I humbly say to you… forget me not…for you are my reflection of myself.

Dazzling

Shall you pour yourself a nice tall drink

If you plan to come and sit?

Shall I bore you with my rhetoric

Or dazzle you with wit?

 

Should you enjoy my company

Shall you visit me again

If you invite me to return

Will you appear insane?

 

Should I hold back on intros

Or should I call your name?

Should I hold close my secret desires

And say you never came?

 

For it is with my eyes wide shut

That I must say to you

I’ve wrapped you in my latest web

As all black widows do~~~

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Simple Beauty

So this morning I walked out into my yard and discovered this…

These are blooms from one of the many crepe myrtle trees in my yard. Notice the colors and also notice the stems they are growing on and from. Yes, this one tree has produced blooms in two different colors. Simply beautiful….IMG_3150

And so it begins…

What happens when you find yourself falling in love with your very best friend? Do you simply relax and enjoy the ride? Do you fight it for all you’re worth… afraid that it’ll ruin things forever? Or do you stand down…run like hell leaving both relationships to dissipate like a cloud of dust after a windstorm on the prairie? Well, if you’re anything like me you wind up wanting to do all of the above— simultaneously, and then some.

You’ve got a wealth of emotion riding on your sleeve with every waking moment… not to mention the ever so romantic horse drawn carriage rides you take together in your dreams. Where did this come from? Has it been hidden, ever so conspicuously, just below the surface… just out of reach… waiting to smite you into the tailspin of a lifetime? Come on it’s your best friend. You’ve known all along that there was a helluva connection but you both thought it was strictly platonic… until that fateful day when the rubber (no pun intended) hit the road. It happened so suddenly… so suddenly that the fireworks that would have gone off  in your head were silenced by the sound of your own beating heart. You became entangled in a rapture of love, no holds barred, get it and give it where you live type of affair never before seen or felt. An affair that would break all the rules, stand the test of time and stand the test of writing, making and breaking new rules of engagement for people throughout history.

How do you handle this when its too good to let go; you know, too scary to fathom, not to mention too nerve racking to fully embrace such an outlandish notion. Who does this? Do people in their right minds really allow this type of nonsense to happen? Well they do, it does, and it has.

And So It Begins…

 

 

Six months blogging re-share number 2

This one’s sure to make you laugh!

Guilt, Innocence and Sarcasm

The author of this essay is a 10 year old child who told her mom she’d washed her face when in fact she had not. Her mom “punished” her for lying by having her write an essay telling why she shouldn’t lie…

(this is a copy of the original essay- although it’s hard to read it -muddling through it is well worth the challenge for a good heart warming laugh—)

 

 

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The guilt (she lied), the innocence (she just wants to play and to stay out of jail) and the sarcasm (47%- really?)

Six months blogging – re-share number one

Thought I’d start off with this one. (It kinda makes you think…) Enjoy

Ramblings

Ever wonder what it would be like to be someone else? No, really, what if we could swap places with someone for 24 hours. Who would you swap with? President Obama? Angelina Jolie? Oprah Winfrey or how about Bill Gates? Now keep in mind- all that glitters isn’t gold and the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, so you definitely gotta be careful what you wish for.

Wanna know who Runaway Nuns and Leprechauns would swap with? ….. It would very likely be “Mr Jones”. No, not the “keeping up with the Joneses’” Mr Jones. The Mr Jones who walks from town to town, rain or shine (snow or sleet) with holes in his shoes, sleeping in parks or in the woods or under the bridge. See, the Mr Jones we’re talking about is homeless. We see him every other day or so and we often offer him food or coffee or conversation. Several months ago during one of our many rainy days we gave him a raincoat, dry shoes and a backpack with a change of clothes. So why would we change places with a homeless man? For these  simple reasons:  to be more appreciative for our blessings  and to give Mr Jones a chance to “come in out of the cold”.

Swapping places with someone famous could get you fame for a day. Swapping places with someone rich could get you a pocket full of coins and friends you didn’t know existed. Swapping places with someone homeless could help you learn to count your blessings, to be more compassionate, and to pay it forward in the biggest way.

What if you were asked to swap places with someone who was well known in the area, who had enough money, and who wasn’t homeless? Would you do it? How about if that person was shunned by many members of society? Would you still do it?