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The principal smiled a cold smile. He didn’t like my question.
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Only the angelic can pet a hummingbird or butterfly.
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The four wheeler wasn’t a damn goat, and Tom didn’t have a helmet. He’d die for sure.
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“Girl, I say girl, you gonna behave now?”
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You’re not exactly Edward Scissorhands, you know.”
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It didn’t slow as fast.
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It wasn’t his fault the boss ran a shit show.
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He would only let me, and me alone sign both casts, bent at the elbows.
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Wonder how a bird of paradise and a gardenia would look as a corsage?
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On Writing; Inspired by Erma Bombeck
“I’ve taken my typewriter to the hospital with me for kidney infections. I have taken it on camping trips, and the sand has gotten in the keys. It is just like the most fierce habit you can imagine. It is there, and it stares at you like a conscience.” ~ Erma Bombeck I must write.… Read more
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The Mystery in the Cook Book
I pulled the book off the shelves that looked most promising for a real recipe for rough puff pastry. The Great British Baking Show offered more inspiration than information, and Wolfgang Puck’s book looked more promising than most on the St. Albans library shelves. The book held that exquisite new book smell to it, and… Read more
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Teachers’ Kids
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a… Read more
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Black Licorice
“Which house shall we hit next, the brick one or that long white one with just the porch light on?” The Bunny Sisters collaborated. Trick or Treat was a serious matter. It had to be done in the most efficient and interesting of ways. Their costumes were fashioned of dresses from the thirties and their… Read more
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An Unlikely Account of Lincoln’s Tophat
Not many people knew of Mercucio Sibedow, haberdasher to the presidency. Mercucio grew up south of the Mason Dixon line. He learned from his daddy how to make hats and ties, leather gloves, fashion mens finishing touches. You’d think that finishing touches were woman’s work, but that would be absolutely not true. In the world… Read more
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How to hide a genius
As a society, we paint the most malformed picture we can grumble about. We tangle our thoughts in knots of despair so tight we can’t move from one group to the next without dire consequences. Once you move, there’s no going back, especially if you’ve moved “down.” Shunning is done with silent delight. Open, honest,… Read more
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The principal smiled a cold smile. He didn’t like my question.
-
Only the angelic can pet a hummingbird or butterfly.
-
The four wheeler wasn’t a damn goat, and Tom didn’t have a helmet. He’d die for sure.
-
“Girl, I say girl, you gonna behave now?”
-
You’re not exactly Edward Scissorhands, you know.”
-
It didn’t slow as fast.
-
It wasn’t his fault the boss ran a shit show.
-
He would only let me, and me alone sign both casts, bent at the elbows.
-
Wonder how a bird of paradise and a gardenia would look as a corsage?
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Norris and the Easter Bunny
Norris heard the rustling in the living room last night before I did. Thinking the worst, he leapt out of bed, and snagged my cheek with his back claw, narrowly missing my eye. Blood poured from the gash he left. There would be a scar. Dammit Norris. While he hotfooted it to the stirring in…
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The Shade Room
I am simple. I go to my shade room. It would be a sun room if there were no giant oaks and holly trees covering its porch and backyard. Moss, hostas, ferns and begonias grow there, as well as my bed of impatiens. Mint, the plant that’s supposed to take over the planet struggles. But…
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Eavesdropping
“Martha, I told you I would be late. I’m sorry you’ve got to put the kids to bed by yourself again tonight, I just got on the bus. I can’t teleport very well,” I could tell this well dressed, dark haired, professional dude, with the chiseled chin sitting beside me on the bus was in…
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Kindness of Strangers
Thank God for the kindness of strangers. Little mercies we are grateful for that we often take for granted, like someone holding the door when our arms are full. They’re rarely there at 6:00 a.m. I had my arms full. My teacher bag was draped across my left arm with my coffee in my hand,…
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Tornado Sirens
I was so glad to be home. The kids at school couldn’t have jumped any higher or harder on my last nerves. Our classroom was big enough to accommodate three times as many students, between their loud voices and their perpetually moving bodies they took up every square inch of it. Getting them in their…

