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Monthly Archives: March 2024
Spring is on the breezePollen makes me sneezeYou can see it in the airFrom those awful Bradford PearsCheese on the counterCheese on my chinCheese is the glueThat prevents me from being thinOne rotten dogLays on the couch80 pounds of loveBut people think he’s a grouch Kiss me when you comeKiss me when you goKiss me on the cheekKiss me on the noseKiss me while I sleepKiss me in the snowKiss me when it hurtsKiss me very slowI’m sorry I snoreI would quit if I couldBut while I’m wishing for stuffI’d rather be on vacation for goodLisa got pigs todayI made enchiladas John Alan rode in circlesNothing rhymes with enchiladas I’m relieved I didn’t make any promises to anybody about what this blog was gonna be about. Y’all would be sorely disappointed. I’m hoping as hard as y’all do that inspiration will strike soon. Hopefully the weather will kick start something in the ol’ noggin’. I can’t fake it. Although I do enjoy the writing prompts on occasion, some of them are rather bleak. And some are so fantastical it just feels ridiculous. I will say I’m often surprised by the people who read my stuff. It’s a bunch of rambling rot, for the most part (especially with this resolution writing) but I appreciate y’all who resolutely tune in for the latest installment of my….whatever this is. In the meantime, here are my enchiladas. I’ll show…
Today has been a day of conflicting emotions. It hasn’t been a bad day, just a day where I can’t seem to be on my true path. I know how to fix it, just need to talk to the Man upstairs. I’m afraid I ain’t gonna like what he has to tell me, though. It happens. I am such a procrastinator. I still haven’t sent in my taxes. I did purge some things this weekend- not as much as I had hoped to. I stay on top of most of my stuff, for the most part. Got rid of several pairs of shoes, though. Is anybody interested in wedding dresses? I have two very beautiful ones. Of course, this is my opinion, but I think you’d be crazy not to agree 🤣 I was hoping to donate them to a good cause, so I first thought about the angel baby gown people. I asked Angela if she knew of any locally, since she’s in the sewing machine circles. She didn’t, but sent me a link for gifting to military brides. I liked that idea a lot, but they only accept gowns less than four years old that have been professionally cleaned. Ok. I get it. You don’t want these 1980s puffy long sleeved lacy yellowing monstrosities with matching hats. But I’m pretty sure my 2001 couture A-line corset back ball gown is still posh. And my 2012 taffeta cupcake dress…
I cannot say you are the only lightBut you are candlelight glowing on burnished bronzeI cannot say you are the safety net to my trapezeYou are a sun warmed brick wall at my backI cannot say you are a kingly feastBut you are a comforting Sunday mealI cannot say you are total happinessBut you are many of my smiles that lingerI cannot say I am incomplete without youBut I ache for your presenceYou are not every conversation Just the one I want to have, even in drifting dreamsI cannot say I long for your touchBut you are a fleece blanket against the chillI cannot say I can’t live without youBecause I canBut I don’t want toThey are endlessThese Blue SundaysThey are quiet and stillThere is hope in the sunshineAnd the budding treesIn the fat groundhog waddling Clumps of green I am one moment closerTo the candlelight, the solidness of youTo be protected, to be cherishedIt is spring, and it is newLove from Appalachia,~Amy…
“Pretty is as pretty does.” We’ve heard it all our lives. But do you know what it truly means? It means that you can be a bombshell, but if you’ve got a wicked heart, you’re ugly as a blob fish. {I was going to conveniently supply you with a photo of one here, but I shan’t do you that way. To be fair, they’re only ugly once they’re hauled to the surface of water. They’re not so bad in their home depth. May this serve as a lesson to us all}. I was having a conversation with my friend the other night over supper and she said offhandedly, “She’s pretty.” I don’t remember who we were even talking about, but I agreed. Kay is one of those sweet people who can find beautiful things in everyone. I can see beauty in lots of things, normal things, like sunrises over the ocean and daffodils dripping with dew and Persian cats. I can see it in manmade things, too: Greek Revival houses and certain sports cars and the way candlelight glimmers in chandeliers. Sure. I don’t always see beauty in people. I can tell when women of a certain age were a knockout in their day, mainly because they’re still paying attention to their figure and appearance. They’ll still be keeping up with frosting their hair, and usually they have those deep set eyes that are always the envy of…
I feel the need to spring clean. Not the Pine-sol variation, but the “I hate all my possessions and all I’m going to keep is my favorite sweetgrass basket, 100 books, my coffeepot, and my dog” kind of cleaning. But you all recognize that for the lie it is, because I’m a fourth generation packrat. That’s just the packrats that I’ve known personally. I’d bet great-great Mamaw Octavia was one, too. It’s hard to let go of stuff. So when the urge hits, I try to embrace it. I’ve already thrown one thing away today. Well, to be technical about it, two things. Because it was a pair of shoes. Now, even I wouldn’t keep just one shoe. I will keep one sock, though, if it’s a style of sock I have multiple pairs of. Like white ankle socks. Because they never all get holes at the same time. They get holes individually. So I can prolong the lives of sock pairs. It ain’t like they’re penguins and mate for life, anyway. So these shoes, I’m sure you’ve seen me in them because I wear them all the time, are some very nice Josef Seibel black leather cork sole wedge sandals. They were the perfect height– the lift was just enough to be considered dressy if I needed it or…
Don’t go lookin’ for the poem, it ain’t here. I’ve barely even thought about it today. I hit the ground running this morning at work. Loads of emails, phone messages, tidying my desk from the disarray the boys left for me. They pulled the ol’ Amy and Lisa shenanigans, placing items backwards and upside down. Cute. But they also left me a 4-leaf clover, so I know they missed me ❤️ It’s so nice to have likable coworkers again. It’d also be nice to have a dog that doesn’t shed, but you can’t have it all. Y’all will be pleased to know that I went out in public tonight with the size sticker still stuck to the length of leg. On the back, of course. And I thought my jacket/ kimono/ whatever it is was long enough to cover it, but when I checked the mirror to see how big of a doofus I was, it was determined I was a complete doofus. At least it was a slow night at the Aubrey’s so maybe not very many people noticed. And here I’d been quietly giggling about these three older ladies who had gotten pretty tipsy and were discussing waxing…procedures. Don’t throw rocks, I do most of my stupid shit stone cold sober. I didn’t hug any complete strangers at Convention this week, so at least there’s that. I did talk to one lady like she…
Boo like a ghost!Moo like a cow! We sell dog food! Bow-wow-wow! You all just don’t know how that’s been haunting me. Yesterday, as we were passing by another of the conference rooms in the hotel, we could hear the Ecolab guys chanting. I thought, we need a chant! That would make meetings funner! Almost like huddle at a football game…and sure enough, just as the chant died, the doors burst open and the guys came pouring out like fire ants, jostling and happy. Their energy was palpable. Didn’t we have a chant at Co-op? More than John Ward’s jingle of “Co-op, Co-op, quality products for everyone!” Y’all remember that? It started coming back to me in little pieces, spirit fingers first. Then where it was (Fall Creek Falls) and what we were learning about (the new line of dog food), and who was there (Keith Harrison, Chris Cox, Shirley….Something) and the last line….I just couldn’t remember the beginning. By the time of the banquet I’d managed to remember all but the first line. But that one line was driving me bonkers because I knew it was real catchy. Then, today, the planets aligned, the sun shone through the clouds to highlight my brain, and BAM! “BOO LIKE A GHOST!!!” I crowed, complete with spirit fingers. After my chauffeur pulled it back in the road, I felt ten pounds lighter. There was no reason…
I will say, after missing two days in a row, it’s easy to want to miss the third. I would compare it to church. The more you miss, the easier it is to lay out. Really, it goes for anything that takes discipline- a diet, trying to make any sort of lifestyle change. I didn’t participate in Lent this year and I find myself missing it keenly. When I get a pang, I feel led to pray about whatever’s on my mind that day. I have sent out six sympathy cards in the last week, so there’s no shortage of people or things to pray for and about. It’s funny, sometimes you anticipate something for so long, say Christmas, and then it’s there and gone and you’re not sure you actually savored every moment. I try not to let anything go unappreciated and I try not to wish my life away. We’d all be better off if we could live like dogs- just in this moment, not pining for yesterday or desiring what’s to come. There’s always something coming down the pike to be excited about, and conversely, something to dread. Better just to be excited to be alive in this moment, on this day, and see what happens. I’m at the Tennessee Association of Conservation Districts Convention in Murfreesboro. I have seen many familiar faces but I…
Hello friends and neighbors. I hope I didn’t alarm anyone by skipping yesterday. Apparently not, because not a single one of my devoted followers reached out to see if I was dead in a ditch. Although to be fair, my nearest and dearest knew what I was doing and where I was. Anyway, I’m fine, it just boils down to me being a procrastinator extraordinaire and didn’t bother getting anything put down before I began my journey halfway across the state. Then after dinner and maybe some two-for-one beers, I no longer felt the supreme drive to write. So, since I’m writing today, in my rules in Amy Land, I still say this counts and it’s not cheating. I’m just a day late. And I have addressed my problem head-on. But the “dead in a ditch” phrase reminds me of when I worked for the fencing outfit and I would call all the crew leaders at 2:00 on the nose (unless I was asshole deep in alligators, but typically things had mellowed by that point in the day). The purpose of the call was to make sure they were on schedule either to finish or they would be on overtime to finish or needed an extra day (that was very bad and I hated to hear those words). Also, just to make sure they hadn’t died from heat exhaustion, rattlesnake…
I don’t wanna write, I wanna gripe. Common courtesy is dead. But if I write about it, I’m gonna get all wound up here at bedtime and I need to get some rest tonight. So, I’ll save it for a day I’m already mad. Writing prompt #911, courtesy of Barry the Chigger. Those of you on my Facebook know him as the guy who’s obsessed with the Kodak library. I know him as the guy who published my words about the helicopter crash and shit hittin’ the fan. I’ve unintentionally beguiled him with my Southern charm, but you never know when you might need a New York Yankee retired fireman to proofread an article on growing petunias. So here we are. #911 You gain control over a magical door. All you have to do is write a location, any location, at the top of the door and when you open it, it brings you to where you’ve written. Gained control? Makes it sound like I’m in a coveted spot, indeed. Like I had to sword fight for this right. Hmm. The “all you have to do” part seems a little suspect, too. And my handwriting is atrocious, so I better be very careful, indeed. “Historic Downtown Savannah Georgia,” I scrawled. Best to pick a place I’m familiar with to get my bearings on how this was gonna work. I opened the door, stepped through, and whoosh! It was like those…
