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Amy
It’s time to tell the terrible awful thing I did. Or, at least, the last terrible awful thing I did. I’m a seashell collector. I always have been. I try to be selective on what I keep, because I’m limited on space after all these years. I put them in apothecary jars with sand and they are displayed in my bedroom and my library. I think they’re beautiful and it makes me smile when I look at them, remembering each trip. The photo at the top shows a mushroom that washed up. I also found cauliflower and broccoli that morning in St. Augustine. I got kind of excited about the mushroom, I thought it was really something unique. I also have a knack for grabbing up shells with wild things still in them. This last trip was no different. I think I found most of Outer Banks population of hermit crabs. I check my shells thoroughly because I don’t want to kill any creatures just so I can have a pretty shell to display, but also, I don’t want to smell rotting varmint for two weeks as it dries out. It does get depressing, though, finding all these perfect shells only to have to toss them back. So anyway, I had collected a few one day and had the majority of them spread on the porch railing to dissipate the ocean smell. I had brought a few into…
It was a Tuesday. I stood at the counter, the old counter, the one I called “The Fishbowl”. I’m sure I was already thinking about lunch. I know it wasn’t busy, because Co-op isn’t busy on early Tuesday mornings in September.Judy was waiting on a man in a white button up shirt who said offhandedly, “Y’all been watching the news?”Yeah dude, clearly.This is 2001. We barely had internet, and even then not on our Point-of-Sale computers. We got our weather from the 7:00 am, noon, and six o’clock news… and also an ancient tiny dot matrix style computer at the back of the store that had only radar, stockyard reports, and grain futures options. There was no Facebook to scroll mindlessly for hours on end. There were no FOX, CNN, NBC, CBS, or MSN apps at our fingertips. We were working, we weren’t sipping coffee over newspapers with the morning shows on in the background.He went on to say, “A plane crashed into the twin towers in New York City.”That gave us pause. No good could come of this. A few of us walked over to catch coverage on the little tv in the tire shop waiting area. Sure enough, there it was. It was horrific, but stranger things had happened. Planes crash all the time. Tragic, for certain, right there in America…
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I wonder If people lay on their deathbed And wish they had added salt To their green beans And put butter on their biscuits And idled awhile longer In the bath I wonder If they wish They had jumped from an airplane Or seen the ocean one more time Or ordered a filet Instead of the pork chop I wonder If they think calories and carbs Are still important Or hugging that friend a minute longer And splurging on fresh cut flowers Just to brighten a dreary day I wonder If they think of things left unsaid Or things they shouldn’t have said Or maybe one last cigarette One last swallow of liquor One last kiss from the one they loved best I wonder Why it takes Death To slow us down To speculate And prioritize…
I have something to say. I know, I’ve ALWAYS got something to say, but this is serious for a change. Do any of you REALLY think you can change anyone’s minds about politics, about masks, about anything of consequence right now? You cannot reason with fear and I believe that most of us are scared for one reason or another currently. Half of us are on edge about the political climate and the unrest of so many citizens. The other half of us are scared of catching Covid. Neither side can stand to listen to the other for any amount of time and we’re all shoving it down each others’ throats 24/7. I’m a firm believer in the freedom of speech. I may not agree with everything you say, but I’ll defend your right to say it. However, we’re all in this together whether we like it or not. It’s gotten so bad two really good friends of mine deleted their accounts simply because they can’t take the unrelenting pressure of debate in their news feed. I’m not telling you anything new. All y’all see it, two or three posts on one side of the fence, two or three on the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Back. And. FORTH. I think some of you are just trying to fit in. Did you not learn to be…
I just want to be myself Completely myself, always Not pieces of myself I think about the women who barely smile in pictures Who never light their “fancy” candles Who always say no to seconds and dessert Who refuse to wear their real diamond earrings And never go swimming because of how they think their legs and butt look in a swimsuit How do you stand it? I grin so big my face hurts I never have fancy candles My dirty diamonds still sparkle My legs are chalk white and my hind end is fat But I won’t let that stop me I will always laugh too hard Too loudly Too long And probably snort and get myself started again I get BBQ sauce and powdered sugar all over everything I own and I don’t even care I will make cookies just for me And I will post ridiculous memes And bad poetry And I will text you inappropriate jokes all hours of the day and night Because sometimes I can’t sleep The moon knows there are things I’m not finished thinking about It has recently occurred to me That I deny myself nothing And why should I My happiness can come first And if I want to sing while I cook And dance while I brush my teeth And not mop my floors for two weeks It’s ok I can do that And if I had a tail I wouldn’t hide it It…
It is always easier To write a poem Than a story Because a poem can have several Interpretations And you can look as hard as you want to But still not find the true one Is it better to start the day off Like a dog With no expectations Of what the day will hold Or should we expect the very best scenario And then be disappointed when it’s everything but And then what Because that’s what typically happens But sometimes Just sometimes It’s even better…
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I was idly scrolling through Facebook tonight. It has become a time-consuming bad habit during the Q. I could be using this time to read, or throw out receipts after checking them against my bank statements, or cleaning baseboards. But no. I’m watching TikTok videos that y’all share (because I refuse to download the app), or laughing at inappropriate memes, or rolling my eyes at y’all trying to convince one another that A) our only “safe” option is staying shut down until flu season or B) that China is trying to kill us by selling us hospital-grade masks that actually recirculate deadly carbon dioxide. I don’t even know anymore. But I do know that I’m not missing people breathing on me in line….but I miss hugs and impromptu drinks with friends at the local watering hole more. So anyway. Back to this post. My hair is, to put it bluntly, crazy. It’s virtually untame-able without the aid of an industrial can of hairspray and a flat iron jacked up to the highest setting. I don’t even try. I’ve just been embracing my curls as they fall after I shake them upside down and scrunch a handful of mousse liberally into them. Seriously. That’s my styling regimen. Some days I get lucky and it looks like I tried. Most days I look like I stuck my…
