The Axe Murderer............by Julianna Rowe

I went to bed last night around ten pm.  I usually sleep quite soundly but there was a mouse on my mind that has taken residence in my kitchen making my two (rescue) cats prowl the area in trepidation, less the fear part of the word, and hoping to score a win.  My thoughts on the other hand were of sweet pets bringing me a present middle of the night.  So when I heard a knock on my outside door I freaked because I was already freaked internally mentally.  Wait, mentally is internally.  

Terror gripped me.  I grabbed my phone and readied it to dial 911.  I slithered out of bed in my short T shirt, undies, and socks due to cold feet and slowly walked to the door.  Why slowly I have no idea. I peeked out the peep hole expecting an ax murderer but it was a woman with her head down.  OMG I thought she was hurt and needed help or was she kidding me to get into my abode and steel my lap top and or TV and or the $60 in  my old black purse. I have nice purses just wasn't using one yesterday! I looked for blood on her head and neck but there was none. Who was she? So...without further thought I just opened the door in my shorty T hoping that would detour any thoughts of my  upcoming death by axe.  It had been a boring slow day anyway. 

To my astonishment there at the foot of her and my door was Bob.  My cat.  

I flung my disheveled hair back like I was a movie star ignoring my exposed under's and legs.... and exclaimed.  

"BOB!"

He heard his name, looked up at me, and walked in with a slight trot.  The boy cat had been wondering the lonely halls and dim dark doorways since about nine that evening when my granddaughter ran in to pick up something she had left over the weekend. How he escaped without me noting it bewildered me but he did, not to say he never has before but I always caught him in the act.  Oh sometimes I would let him walk as far as he wanted sniffing selected doors. I always wondered why just some doors. What would cause him to bypass other doors??

The cat savior lady told me she was just going to start at the first door and go knocking on each of eleven doors until she found his home.  Lucky Lady got lucky on number 1.  I thanked her and offered her a million dollars, as soon as my wish came forth.  We laughed, she left. 

As long as I was up and about I went to use the "rest" room saving me the usual two pm bathroom run.  Bob followed me into the "REST" room all the time watching my every move.  I sat down as predicted  and Boom, he jumped in my lap, reached his paws around my neck hugging me and kissing my face while I am attempting to gain control of the uppie (I roll my tissue from the top, not underneath) toilet tissue so I could get life back under control.  Obviously BOB was happy to be back home. And the other rescue Lucy was all over him greeting him like he had been missing  from our lives for days versus two hours.  It could have been worse like most things but it wasn't except for the shorty T shirt thingy deal.    The End.   Does Bob look like he cares??  I always save him!   And I should for I am responsible for Mr. Bob Benjamin Morrison Ogden.   (He has his own blog)

NO MORE SALT..........by Julianna Rowe

 

This is half of something. This is half of a union, a pair, a couple!
One white and one black. One salt and one pepper. Now I stand alone, really alone on a vast wooden table left to deal with life half-way.
Salt was sitting on the counter attached to me, pepper, at the side by a strong almost unbeatable, unbreakable force called a magnet. We were like twins, inseparable, where one went the other usually always went too. Silly huh? Not really....just look at me now. Poor soul. Not only standing alone now, but I'm black on the inside living in a white outer side! This is no good life anymore.

After salt fell off the the edge of the counter and died a big smashing death, I knew it was over. The life I had known for years was over. I could see the person that shoved her off the edge was upset. Standing there gazing at salt trying to figure out a way to put her back together...sort of worse than humpty dumpty or scrambled eggs. There was no putting salt back together. So I watched the lady sweep her up and drop her into a big white bag and that was the last time I saw salt. I have an empty spot now. Its right on my side where she used to be attached and sit every day, every month every year.

The lady that accidentally killed salt was talking to someone. She was saying, "OMG, I hope those weren't a wedding gift, or maybe carried some sincere sentimental value. What if they belonged to the deceased Grandmother, or they might have been a gift one of their children walked a mile to a store with only a few dollars they'd saved for months to buy a Mother's day gift for!"

That lady carried on so long I started to think she might know I had feelings. Nawh, impossible. Salt is gone and I will have to find a way to move on. I have some other friends on the counter. A large brown wooden grinder and some new fangled plastic (probably from Wal Mart) with big salt inside it. When they turn the top it makes noises and then salt like my old friend that got pushed off a cliff counter and smashed into a thousand pieces, comes out the top. The new salt is OK, just not my cup of salt is all. I will adjust to the loss. Not so sure that lady will. She was more upset than I was and salt wasn't even hooked up to her. I think she was just a-scared the people that owned salt and I might be upset. She still isn't over it. It's been a few months now and today when she came to our home, she sat me on the table and took some pictures of the missing salt. I'm fine, she isn't!!

Spirit is Carried on by.......... Julianna Rowe

I read an obit on facebook about a nice lady that passed away like everyone has and will.  When I came to the line, "Her Spirit is carried on by...,"  then came the names of the survivors. I was impressed yet horrified.  Yes horrified!  Obviously I have carried on a few Spirits from my passed on people.  And some of those so called Spirits were great and some not so great.  The great ones, spirits that is, seemed to have an eternal fight with the bad ones.  And in this family there are no mediocre spirits.  Either horrific or wonderful.  Fight and drama even though done quietly. No Maury Povich or Jerry Springer by any means.
(I try to stay away from all of them that "My Spirit would be carried on by..." who act with such drama.) Oh we do have a Mr. and Mrs. Nancy Grace.  Everyone guilty!  Where did that come from? Certainly not my side of the cells.  We have no judges.  Oh I forgot, we have judgers who haven't evolved yet.

Love, hate....no in between.  Of course not me. 

Our cells contain: Western frontier town murder in the 1800's, insanity in the 1800's, rich farmers all the way through the 1990's,  alcoholism, depression, giving, comedians,  and one policeman.  Good Bad like most families.  We had no Rockefeller's, no politicians, a few good athletes, a couple "Carny's,"  as in carnival tent travelers, (omg) one moonshiner in the 1930's that spent some time in Levenworth,  a couple Nascar drivers, no literary scholars, no teachers, many female crotchers, hum, crocheters, ha, I cant spell that! Knitters, embroiders, sewers, artists of the drawing,  a tax evader, and a lot of maids. We do carry on the creative spirit for sure.  Hell of a background of which I have diligently tried to overcome, evolve past, move on from, hide away from, run from, learn from, accentuate the positives of, all of which is a work in progress.  Cells have memories.  I say they, my ancestor's, had a camera and took videos and placed them in their "Carry on-ers" brain cells and or vagina's and penis's for future turn on turn offs.   Might not be so funny.  I heard on talk radio that one of our brain cells, yes I said ONE is identical in appearance to ONE Universe.  There is that word infinity again.  Eww eww.  Too big for my cells to grasp.  We could each have over a billion Universe's in our brains.  I said it was too big.  Oh and all with camera's trying to trick us.  Some of those brain cell Universe look a likes lift us, some try to bring us down.  It's no different than the show Survivor.  And I would have gotten kicked off quickly!  I'm good!  I'm not "done" yet.  I might add there are a LOT of beautiful and strong women in this family.... 

Laters 

The Umbilical Cord in Eggs?.........by Julianna Rowe

 

I don't know what it is with me, chickens, roosters, and eggs lately? Certainly there are more important issues like when will women have equal rights.   And will the Pandemic ever end. 

Back to the Umbilical Cord of the everyday egg. I like eggs, but when I crack them open and that milky looking wirery squibbly fertilized umbilical cord presents itself off the yoke in my frying pan I get woozy. So, I do the right and good thing and take half the shell I have just cracked open and use it to splice off the " unbili -cord," while using the other half of the shell to scoop it out and into the sink nevermore to be seen. Then and only then can I eat it. I even went so far as to purchase a dozen organic fed "chicken eggs."

You know what I mean, in great hopes there may be less or no umbilical cord. And I paid $4.60 cents vs $1.59 cents for regular eggs both of which have the same white milky fertilized umbilical cord looking at me from the pan. I know, duh. 

My friend Peter, whom I shall blog about at some point, says I am Obsessive-Compulsive Neurotic. I am not, my Mother is! LOL 

Why would anyone want to eat something that came out of a Chicken's (ass).  If the Chicken had sex, I don't think they make love, then that same egg would be-holden a little chicken...eeewww. Call it what you will, I cannot eat the unfertilized or fertilized umbilical cord of a "chicken egg." Now if I scramble it quickly and its out of site, that works on occasion depending on my mood of course. Neurotic....no way.

So be happy, be safe, be WELL and don't eat umbilical cords.....not chickens, not any okay?  Good.  We're good.    Later's

"The Dyslexic Writer," Me!

Dyslexia is a shitty thing to have to live with. It comes in many shapes and forms.  I could go into depth but there is no need for that.  Simply put my brain gets scrambled sometimes when I visually look at something.  For instance the name Johnson might appear to me to be Stanley.  Bad example but hope you get it.  Fractions were a living nightmare.  And English class was even worse. My brain just could not understand passive voice, certain punctuation, and most of all sentence structure.  It looked like scrambled eggs.

It started around 4th grade where I couldn't keep up in class.  The teacher would talk to fast and only a few of his or her words were retained. Big blank spots.  I would try diligently to do my homework but I couldn't.  My mother would continually say, "What's the matter with you?"   Well I didn't think anything was until I heard that about a zillion times along with my teachers saying I could do it but wasn't applying myself.  They called me lazy. (I am the farthest person from lazy)  Each year I sank further into lack of self esteem.  I was a pretty young girl so I fell back on that.  How'd that work out for me you ask?  Not-so-good, with low self esteem nothing works out so well.

High School!  Lord the load got heavier each year in all areas.  I was made fun of in my classes. Once by a teacher, he was the Social Studies and he taught Drivers Ed as well. I forgot his name but never will I forget his face, who made me stand at the blackboard and draw apples and then erase one so I could see the answer.  Humiliation!  I started to skip school A LOT.....It was the only way I felt I could save myself from the pain. 

Why am I writing this?  Because I love/loved to make up stories and write books.  But I lacked the Grammar skills to do so.  I was not a wealthy person so I lacked the funds to hire editors.  I tried nursing homes asking for folks who may wish to feel useful again to edit for me.  I tried assisted living homes and college students for a nominal fee.  I did and do online learning and discovered I was and am the Queen of Passive Voice sentences and run on's. The words then and than stump my buns every time.  I have Word so that helps quite a bit. 

My mentor of 41 years told me if I ever thought of publishing I better have someone edit my punctuation.  Okay!  Again embarrassed as well as I thought of the hundreds of people that read my chapters who might be wondering were I learned to put so many comma's in. 

One of my clients is a Linguistics Professor who told me to blow everyone off and write like I write.  If you don't like where my paragraphs and comma's are.....just read the dang story anyway because I am pretty darn good at coming up with interesting stories.   My English teacher, Mrs. Covington, who resides in the heavens is probably rolling over and over but is jumping for joy at the least for my attempts at entertaining people with my wild imagination.  (A lot of the tales I tell are true even though I mark them as FICTION.)  You have to guess what is and what isn't. 

Thanks for your understanding.  God forbid I don't wish to be made fun of at this age for Dyslexia!
Been to that rodeo before.  Oh, I now have an editor from the UK and two novels on Amazon and at Barnes and Noble online.  As well as three more ready for print. 

Famous People with Dyslexia? 

John F. Kennedy, George Washington, George Bush, Pablo Picasso, Albert Einstein, Henry Winkler, Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams, Jay Leno, Anderson Cooper, Cher, Steven Spielberg, Justin Timberlake, Tim Teebow, Keira Knightley Jamie Oliver, Leonardo Di Vinci, Tom Cruiz, Walt Disney, Jim Carrey, John Lennon, Guy Ritchie, and Me.

Donkey vs Ass.............by Julianna Rowe

I have been thinking of a way not to offend people when I feel the need to use the word "ass."  So I googled ass phrases and decided TO use the word "donkey" in place of "ass" to see what I get.  Too funny.  So the next time I am at Wal Mart and someone at the check out angers me I will say, "Why you fucking Donkey!"  That way I wont offend anyone.  (sorry, really I am, but it just fit right in there jeez)  I will be better I promise...

Donkey my Donkey! (meaning, "I will not answer your question")
Donkey-over-appetite [-teakettle, -tip, -tit] (head-over-heals; end-over-end)
bite my Donkey (used as a derisive comeback)

chew somebody's Donkey (to speak or shout angrily at someone because they've done something wrong)
creep up someone's Donkey (to demean oneself as a means of currying favor)

get in someone's Donkey (to cause trouble for)

get on somebody's Donkey (to get on someone's nerves)

hang it in your Donkey! (used as derisive comeback
hang somebody's Donkey(to punish; thoroughly defeat)
have (one's) finger up (one's) Donkey (to stand about idly)
have (one's) head up [or in] (one's) Donkey (to be inattentive or stupid)
have (one's) nose up somebody's Donkey (to curry favor with someone in a blatant manner)
hold (one's) Donkey(to be patient)
How's your Donkey? (used as a greeting)

jump up my Donkey (used as a derisive comeback) 
kiss [or suck] my Donkey (used as a derisive comeback

not on your Donkey! (no indeed

pain in the Donkey(someone who is annoying)
piece of Donkey(someone who is sexy, attractive)
pull something out of (one's) Donkey (to invent or produce something seemingly from nowhere)

scratch a beggar's Donkey (to be impoverished)
shut your Donkey! (shut)
stick [or shove, etc.] it up somebody's Donkey (to brutally manhandle, victimize someone)
suck my Donkey (used as a derisive comeback)
suck somebody's ass (used as a derisive comeback)

take it in the Donkey (to be brutally manhandled, victimized)
talk like a man with a paper Donkey (to talk nonsense)
tear (one's) Donkey [or Donkeyhole] (to injure oneself; get into trouble)
tear somebody a new Donkey (to ruin or destroy someone)
think the sun sets [or shines] in somebody's Donkey(to worship stupidly someone or oneself)

up somebody's Donkey(hounding, annoying, or bothering someone)
up your Donkey! 

Well that's enough Donkey for a while.  So until I find something more interesting than ass phrases, be safe, be well, be happy, and get rich and stay smart....it is easier!   Laters

Some of this list from http://thoughtfuljack.blogspot.com

Coconut Pancakes.........................by Diane Ogden

I awoke this morning and made the conscious decision to try the Coconut Pancake recipe I saw on face book.  I copied and pasted it to Word Pad, at which time the printer decided to "not print." What's new? I figured it out and onward and upward to the kitchen.  I get all the ingredients ready:

4 eggs, room temperature
1 cup milk (raw cow’s or coconut both work)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 tablespoon honey or a pinch of stevia
1/2 cup coconut flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
coconut oil or butter for frying

The consistency of the batter concerned me.  Basically I had four frothy eggs with a bit of coconut flour. Oh and I couldn't find my baking soda.  Had to get the one out of the refrigerator.  Ewww.  Don't panic, it was almost new.  Still.......eeww

Into the frying pan we go....   

                          So far, so good............. or not!  The flip was as bad as trying to flip raw eggs.
                                    But I carried on.  I had my "heart" set on healthy coconut pancakes.

I did not take a photo of my lopsided coconut pancake stack.  But I did take a bite, after butter and syrup topping.  Terrible.  Terrible.  Terrible.  The texture in my mouth was unacceptable.  Like eating partially cooked corn bread batter with syrup on top.  O M G!   Bob the cat also upped his nose at this stack of ??

To the sink dink! What a waste of four organic eggs etc.

This is when I pulled out my friends old fashioned pancake recipe from twenty years ago.  Unhealthy as hell, but no worries, I spruced (healthied) them up a bit.. I don't think that is a word. Who cares.

DeAnne Roeske's Old Fashioned Pancakes

1 1/4 c. flour (I used unbleached organic)

3 tsp. (organic) baking powder

1 tablespoon (Truvia) sugar

1/2 tsp. (sea) salt

1 beaten (organic range free chicken) egg  LOL

1 cup milk  (organic coconut milk)

2 tbsp. salad oil  (organic coconut oil)

(I added 100% Blueberry juice for my brain.

 BEAUTIFUL!!

Topped with Sugar free POISON (aspartame) It's all I had on hand.

DELICIOUS

PERFECTION

FLUFFY

AMAZING

Slightly green from the Blueberry juice.

I am now vegging with a sugar low.  Yes low, not high. Already been there done that.  Back to Oatmeal tomorrow. 

           Laters.......Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy, and get richer so you can go out for pancakes.
                                                             My kitchen is a mess.