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Browsing Tag: #circleoflife
I’ve been poisoning the ants at work for some time. I can’t tell that there have been any long term effects. I KNOW Terro works, I’ve used it for years at home and recommended it to countless people. I have had to hear people groan that they’re only feeding them, because you don’t actually get the enjoyment of watching their little bodies keel over, as it is a bait- they carry it back to their Motherland to be put in the catacombs and clutches for the entire colony to divide and consume. Socialism, I say. So anyway, about a week ago, I had stuck some Eggos in the toaster and topped them with blueberries. One can’t have fresh blueberry waffles without whipped cream, so I was squirting it artfully around when I ran out. You know what happens when you reach the end of a can of Redi Whip? I’ll tell you, it ain’t pretty. You don’t even get a warning. Everything is going fine, and then it suddenly isn’t. The little globs of cream shoot haphazardly all over the place. It was on the counter, in the sink, probably dripping off the cabinet. I had whipped cream dotting my arms, my shirt, my glasses. But I’m not one to let a little mess stand between me and breakfast. I went ahead and ate. When I took my…
A soft, gentle, much needed rain will be falling this morning at the gravesite of Mr. Ralph Newman. Maybe I should call it a “mourning rain”. Ralph might’ve got to Heaven & made that his first order of business, ’cause he sure knew we needed it. My heart is with all the Newmans this morning as they lay David’s daddy in the earth. Many of you know him, have bought hay from him, have seen him working in the fields. I loved Mr. Newman. He was one of the first farmers I ever waited on when I came to work at Co-op. He was patient with me as I hunted item numbers for his requested feed and baler twine. He has been patient with me over the years as I tracked down the right bolts, seeds, shoestrings, oil, vaccines, and information for him on herbicide & pesticide application rates. I’d spot him ambling along the aisles of the store & I’d break off from whatever I was doing to go speak to him. Well, go holler at him, is more accurate. We got along good because his hearing had been sub par for several years & I tend to talk loud. ” Hello, Mr. Newman!” I’d bellow, & he’d grin ear-to-ear. “Hello, Amy!” He’d holler back. Or sometimes he’d call me “sis”. It…
