A Nice Place In The Sun

Cowboy Curtains

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 14:36:00 +0000

Cowboy Curtains

I felt tears in my eyes before I opened them this morning...and I thought, here come the tears again...

It was an early December morning, my favorite season- so I wondered why I had tears in my eyes- But, I knew I didn’t want to open them-

Because I recognized this feeling...as one I had known before- this was not my first wagon ride.

I wanted to keep my eyes closed and continue to think of the cowboy curtains on my grandmothers drapes, her azalea bushes in bloom, and my golden retriever...

In addition, if I opened my eyes, I might lose the ability to smell honeysuckle-
I wished I was nine again and I squeezed my eyes together tight, that way I could stay in the moment longer, although I knew I had to open them sometime.

For one thing, I had to wipe the tears before they drew lines on my face, although I wondered why I was crying- a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling as if an unwelcome visitor had returned to my door. Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, my favorite season-
So I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before opening my eyes.

I always project myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day in winter, I didn't think of the summer, I thought of cowboy curtains...

I remembered the cowboy curtains that hung in my uncle’s boyhood room at my grandmother’s house. They always smelled good, probably because they dried clinging to the clothesline on breezy spring afternoons.

It felt good to think about the smells and sounds rich in a Southern environment- in addition, to the lasting impression my grandmothers five hundred year old Oak tree left on my soul.

The agricultural climate in the Deep South blends into your senses and becomes a part of who you are, and what you remember.

Sometimes, I draw upon my southern heritage for comfort when I’m having trouble with life's harsh realities. And I’m happy I can still smell the honeysuckle vines I pulled from my grandmother’s Azalea bushes, as well as hear the crickets' sing at night.

The sound of crickets are entrenched in my mind, chirping in a rhythm I miss when I'm away...

I remember crickets singing when I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night- and watching the moonlight shine on the shadows as the drapes floated on the breeze away from the window...

It was as if the moonlight showed up to tell a story of cowboys and their horses. The cowboy drawings looked alive when the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth-Therefore, it was easy to imagine real cowboys roping, laughing, and branding cows, behind what would be a dusty curtain. I wished the tiny wranglers I envisioned were really alive, and sometimes I gave them names, histories, and character.

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who share the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, or rope any calf, gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I...

But today, I let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside the breezy drapes of long ago.

Because, after all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first wagon ride, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

I will think of cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandmother, my retriever...a cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

Then I'll open my eyes...and begin a new day-

The Craziest Experience of my Life: Number two

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 06:04:00 +0000

I had one of the craziest experiences of my life on the same night I graduated from high school. Therefore, at every high school reunion or when I run into someone who witnessed the event, they tell me about it as if it didn't happen to me, because I think they're embarrassed. In fact, an old friend did just that the other day. Except, he suggested I write about it, hence, here is my article about the craziest thing that ever happened to me in my life- which happened to be on the same night I graduated from high school:

Aside from my weird experience, the evening we graduated started out magical; the weather was breezy, and the sky was as dark as the deepest part of the ocean.

Although, I did have a case of graduation jitters. My stomach felt ticklish and jumpy, like it had when I was a child, and my parents drove our car over a steep hill, or when I rode certain rides at the fair.

Hence, as a result, I held my hand on my abdomen throughout the ceremony, and thought about how close I was to graduating from high school. In addition, I couldn't wait to leave and listen to the radio in the car with my friends.

Because, after all, it might be the last time we would be together for awhile, since some of us would be going to college out of state. I thought about the future and daydreamed about the past as I sat in my hard chair throughout the ceremony...

I could not believe all the things we did...

We drove down the Mississippi River road to our states capital building nearly every week-end during our high school years. The courtyard that surrounded the capital building was full of rolling hills, azalea bushes, and moss covered oaks- It was our home away from home, stomping ground, pop-stand, cool place in the shade, or nice place in the sun-

On dark nights, we imagined the trees shadows were ghostly southern belles dancing in moss stitched dresses; the sight of which sent shivers down our spines. We decided the shadows were the images of Southern belles who refused to leave the ball. My friends and I created characters from the shadows at night, like a clown shapes animals from balloons during the day. There were so many shadows from the giant trees, because there were so many trees on the capital grounds. Therefore, at night, a vivid imagination could shape the trees into an array of images, much like you can with the stars on a starry night.

On the week-ends we couldn't wait to drive to the State Capital grounds. The minute the car stopped in front of the courtyard, we flew out of the doors, jumped the well kept hedges, turned cartwheels on the clover, played touch football, rested under the trees, and kissed under the stars until daylight.

I was having a nice time daydreaming about the past, when my daydreams collided with the present shrill voice of our class president speaking into a microphone.

I was relieved that I managed to hold my stomach in place while I was daydreaming, and through the rest of the ceremony, but afterward, it felt wrapped as tight as a ball of rubber bands. I guess I had a case of graduation jitters. For one thing, I was worried about what would happen to us in the future. I wondered how the world would react to our southern accents and muddy water attitudes, but I quickly shrugged it off like a typical southern girl; a girl who had an evening to enjoy in spite of it all.

After graduation, we piled into whatever car the ferryboat captain wouldn't recognize, (my mothers) and headed toward the river road for one last ride on the ferry.

But, as I drove down our driveway, my eager foot pressed the accelerator too hard, and I smashed my mothers car into her well nurtured apple-pear tree, knocking apples and pears onto the windshield.

Our house sat on a tiny hill, therefore, the driveway became the most exciting setting in our house, and the most talked about subject in our household. It was because the driveway tempted you to zoom your car up or down it, depending on what direction you were going, and the speed at which you traveled illustrated your mood to others, a lot like a mood ring.

Truly, others could tell when you were mad, happy, excited, scared, or, in our case, in a mad dash to get out of there, by how fast you drove up or down the driveway. Whereas, in the case of a mood ring, your mood is determined by the changes in color.

Anyway, we borrowed my mothers car in an effort to fool certain ferryboat captains, who may not let us board the ferry if they recognized one of our cars.

Because, for some reason, when it came to us, the captains had a short fuse. Maybe, because we had a tendency to get out of the car and ride the ferry all night, or it could have been the fact that I used to stand on the front of the boat and sing the Barbra Streisand song On A Clear Day. I sang my heart out on the front of the ferry, imagining I was on the boat in the movie, Funny Girl.

In retrospect, I don't blame the ferryboat captains for having a short fuse, and kicking us off the ferry, but I do sort of admire our ingenuity when it came to showing up with different cars. I remember one of our parents saying, "But, honey you have your own car. I don't understand...And I'm sorry, but, you will not borrow my car, not under any circumstances." Actually, when I think of it, I'm not sure how we managed to get my mothers car down my parents driveway either-

Anyhow, after hitting my mothers apple pear tree, singing and getting kicked off the ferry again, we pulled the car over, parked and climbed to the top of the levee to get a better view of the river. From the levee, we could hear the river wind howl through the trees, but it was gentle; the wind from the river sounded like the roar of a mighty lion, when in fact, it felt as gentle as the whiskers on a kitten.

I watched my friends lean against the barbed wire fence with their faces to the sky, and their arms out to their sides, like the wings on a plane; I could hear the sleeves of their jackets clap against the speed of the wind, as if the river were returning a farewell embrace.

We stood speechless as the generous Mississippi sashayed beneath the silver stars, and honey colored moon, sharing its amenities with people, tug boats, barges, ferries and teenagers, year after year...

And as we stood there on graduation night, I think we realized how small we were in the grand scheme of things, in addition to how little we knew about ourselves and the world. It was the first time in all the years we spent on the banks of the Mississippi River, that we felt in awe of its presence. It's funny how we take what we love the most for granted, especially the most precious to us...I will always wonder why...

In conclusion, it began to get late, so we rode down the river road, like we had a million times before, singing and talking on our way to the State Capital grounds, only this time, we listened to my boyfriends eight-tracks, instead of the radio. He had a ton of them, but he was bossy about what songs we could play.

His eight-tracks were a big thing then, and listening to them was something I hated to interrupt,(a lie) but I needed to use the bathroom bad. Hence, I asked my friends, and Mr. Congeniality, if they would mind waiting in the car when we stopped on the grounds, so that I could pee under one of the Oak trees-

Hence, my southern gentleman began to drive around the grounds looking for a place to park, where he could keep an eye on me in the huge courtyard.

I remember asking him to play I’m a Believer by The Monkees, over and over again, but he kept saying he lost the tape. The conversation went something like this:

"I know you didn’t lose the tape, Steve, because I saw it in your glove compartment last week," I said, while the rest of my friends laughed, including him.

"Annie, you've heard that song at least a thousand times, will you please give it a rest? You are the only person I know who would listen to a broken record-" he said, with a smile that I didn't think was cute at the moment.

Then, a friend of ours interrupted the conversation:

"Oh, Steve, she’s not the only one who wants to hear that song, and you know it. Stop picking on her and play the tape."

"I’m telling ya'll the tape is gone and I don’t know where it is," said the most generous man on earth.

At which point, I said, as I glared at him with a dirty look,

"Oh, for crying out loud, I know I'll find it, and I know you hid it...but at the moment I don't care,(I lied) because I have to go to the bathroom, so will you please stop and park? Because, like I said, I know where the tape is anyway...and I'll show you when I get back..."

Steve smiled and said, "Don't count on it."

Rolling my eyes, I spouted back, "I'm going under the oak trees in the side yard. I’ll be right back, mean jerk man."

Then, off I went into the same dark night, that didn't seem as kind as it had earlier. Therefore, my pulse quickened as I searched, and then found, the perfect spot beneath an oak tree branch to do my business...(like my golden retriever.)

As I started to pee I could hear The Monkee's tape playing from the car. That jerk, I thought, then I heard what sounded like birds chirping in the branches.

They were chirping loud and it was nighttime... I thought, this is bizarre, what kind of bird chirps at night? I sensed they were flying close to me and around the tree...then the chirping grew louder...thinking I felt something close to my face, I put my hand on my head, and began to pull up my pants, while the chirping got louder.

I couldn't tell if they were in the tree, or literally flying around my head...and I still understand why these birds were awake in the middle of the night. I kept mumbling to myself, while I looked at the car still parked for my safety, "Golly, these birds are too friendly." In addition, I could hear them chirping in bird talk in the trees branches, then pieces of tree limbs began to fall on me-

Okay, this is it, I said to myself, and at the same moment I sensed the presence of something over my head- My hands started shaking so bad forgot how to pull my pants over my knees, which obviously made one bird really mad. Because I heard a shrill chirping over my head that sounded like an aggressive shriek for a bird, even a really mad bird.

By this time, I was so petrified I tried to run, but I'm not sure if I even moved, then I put my hand on my head and something hard and feathery was fluttering around in my hair, so I started running straight to the car, pants down or not-

I kept trying to put my pants on, but something was still on my head, and when I tried to hit it, I fell down...so I just picked myself up and ran, in addition, to screaming to the top of my lungs with my pants around my ankles.

I believe I made a mistake hitting the mean bird the first time, because after I tried to slug it, the monster was so furious it started zooming around my head like a bully with wings. I could feel it zoom past my ears, like a gigantic fly, screaming its earsplitting squeals.

I was afraid it was going to grab a chuck of my hair, or poke my eyes out, like in the Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds.

I looked in the direction of the car, and I saw Steve and my friends laughing...and I couldn’t understand why... It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was running with my pants to my knees and bats, yes BATS, chasing me-

I dismissed their laughing, because I didn't have time, what with birds chasing me and all, plus, I felt like I had cobwebs on my face, so I kept wiping my face as I ran.

I couldn’t coordinate my legs with my pants to my knees, so I ran like a penguin until I fell, that is, until I saw the bats shrieking and encircling the sky above my head, then I managed to get one leg out of my pants and wobble without my pants at all.

Then, I was free to run faster, even if I was dragging one pants leg behind me, to the safety of the car. Nevertheless, the bats were still encircling me from the sky and screaming these awful otherworldly calls for help from their bat friends in the trees.

While my human friends stayed locked in the car laughing...and every time I approached the car door, Steve drove a few feet forward, hoping the bats would fly away...(or so he said...)

In the meantime, I could see my friends in the car laughing hysterically, because I was trying to grab the car door with my pants down, and every few minutes I could feel a bat zoom past my face.

After the incident was over, and I had calmed down, I told Steve not to feel bad about driving forward the way he did, because I understood he was thinking about their safety. After all, I knew they didn’t want the bats to get inside the car-

Well, he smiled and said, "Annie, the bats were long gone by the time you reached the car. We just thought it was funny watching you try to catch the car with your pants down. We were laughing so hard to tell you that what you were feeling were small branches still on the top of your head."

"The bats flew off a few yards before you reached the car, well...that is, after you beat the daylights out of the one on your head. We could see you waving your hands trying to knock the branches off after that, but we couldn't stop laughing. I'm sorry honey, I thought you knew, and I hate to laugh, but that was the funniest thing any of us have ever seen."

Well...it was the craziest thing that ever happened to me, but I'm glad my friends got a kick out of it. We still laugh about it to this day...And I suppose that's a good thing, right?

And after writing this I guess the second part of the night is a better story...but the next time someone tells me about it, I'm going to say, "Oh, you thought that happened to me? Oh no, are you kidding? That happened to Steve, and it was the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. "

Authors note: This article was originally written in blog form for Bobbarama's Humor Carnival in 8/07, so it was a little shorter then. However, when I rewrote it for a local magazine I wrote a longer version, so I apologize for the length. I think it's probably too long for a blog post, so bless all of you who are reading this note. Because, if you're reading this, you either skipped a few paragraphs to find out what the 'Craziest Experience of my Life' actually was, or you read it all the way through to the end. Thank you for doing either one.

I decided to post this version after accidentally deleting the one I wrote for the Humor Carnival and posted on A Nice Place In The Sun. Plus, to be honest, I've been busy being ill for so long, I wanted to post something for you to read. My apologies to those of you who have already read the other version, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me, because at least the story is a little different this time... :)

Thanks to all of you for your patience and support. And I promise, I'm working on publishing a brand new post real soon.

All of you are the greatest...:))

Love,

Annie

At The Mercy Of My Bathroom Faucet

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 06:55:00 +0000

First published, 8/19/07

New post coming soon...

My cat Simon insists on eating the instant I open my eyes, so this morning, like every morning, I crawled out of bed the minute Mr. narcissism began to wail for his breakfast-

And like every morning, I fumbled around in the kitchen with my eyes barely focused and my mind in a dreamy haze, searching for the cat’s breakfast while I listened to him sing his chorus of MEOW, MEOW, MEOW.

I have always wondered why cats pretend we cannot hear their repeated meowing? They just keep meowing, oblivious to the fact that you are moving as fast as you can, which I also do every morning. However, there was one thing different about this morning. This morning I decided to I give up thinking until Simon finished meowing his ear-piercing demands, and opened a can of cat food without thinking or looking.

Which is why I didn't discover the blood pouring out of the back of my hand until after I poured my self-centered feline his breakfast- then it took a few more minutes for my brain to register the pain-

I stared at the back of my hand awhile before I realized the effect this accident could have on the rest of my day, and my pulse began to quicken with fear. There is nothing scarier than the unknown, and suddenly my future was a mystery. So at first, I was terrified, but after I ran to the bathroom faucet and put my hand under running water, I was relieved to find that the cut wasn't serious.

However, mothers cannot have cuts on the top of their hands, regardless of how old their children are, we simply do not have the luxury of an injury, even a small injury. Families depend on Mom in special ways, yes, even Mom's with adult children. Therefore, I envisioned my house of cards tumbling down and my family crumbling to pieces, all because of a small cut on the back of my hand.

Anyway, while I ran water on my injured hand, I searched the medicine cabinet with my good hand for a band-aid, but I couldn't find one. I tried to move the injured hand away from the running water, but the bleeding was still profuse, so I quickly put it back under the faucet. I couldn't believe I was stuck at the mercy of my of my bathroom faucet because I couldn’t find a band-aid.

Sentenced to live my life over a bathroom sink, in bondage forever with my hand under water, unable to live my life because I forgot to get band-aids at the store. Sometimes, I really don't understand what is wrong with me...I mean, speaking of motherhood, what kind of mother cannot remember band-aids?

I have always had a problem remembering to get things from the store that bore me, like band-aids, and now I was paying the price. I began to panic, but continued the search while holding my hand under water, until thank goodness, I found one lonely band-aid crumbled in the back of the medicine cabinet- a case of pure serendipity.

I was so grateful...because now I was free to drive an hour to my mothers, (that is after I let Simon out) wash the endless supply of dirty clothes one college student can dirty, work on a book proposal, write tomorrows post, oh, and try to remember everything I need from the store, including the ingredients for what I’m going to cook tonight.

Although...it's strange, I feel like I'm forgetting something again... But, if it was important, I would remember, wouldn't I?

Oh well, it's probably just from all the stress I've had today and besides I don't have any mundane items on my list...That is, I don't think I do...I think I just need groceries...

Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 06:45:00 +0000

Edited Repost: Make Way For Ducklings

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 20:42:00 +0000

Make Way For Ducklings: First published in 1941, this 1942 Caldecott Medal winner and Massachusetts State book, is still delighting an audience of children and adults today. Robert McCloskey’s gentle prose and award winning illustrations magically capture the true essence of parental birds in flight.

The reader is quickly drawn into Mr. and Mrs. Mallard's search for the perfect place to raise their family. The books double page spread illustrations invite you to view the world from the Mallards point of view, which adds to the realism of a perfectly paced plot. Hence, within the first few pages, the reader joins the Mallard family's flight over houses and farms as they make their way toward the magnificent city of Boston.

However, while flying over the city, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard cannot agree on the perfect place to stop and investigate their surroundings, so they continue flying until they are exhausted, and must agree to stop on an island in the middle of the Boston Public Garden.

The following day, the couple swam and fished in the pond, strolled along the bank, and were generally happy with the garden. However, due to public activity in the park, Mrs. Mallard began to feel uncomfortable with the area, and wanted to search for a more suitable nesting environment.

Hence, the Mallards take off again, flying over the many landmarks of Boston, until they finally find a home in close proximity to the Garden where their offspring can hatch.

The Mallards like their new home close to the pond, where they form a friendship with a man named Michael, who showers them with a constant supply of peanuts. However, after Mrs. Mallard lays her eggs in the nest, she cannot visit Michael until her babies hatch. Although, we see Michael again when he proves to be both a hero and a trusted friend, in addition to the entire city of Boston.

Robert McCloskey’s warm-heartened portrayal of these parents is the backbone of this classic in addition to its articulately written prose and truthful illustration. The Mallards are devoted to their offspring and spend a good deal of time teaching them how to live safely in the world. You are convinced you can trust them and like them instantly. I fell in love with the ducks and snuggled with them in flight twice on my couch in one afternoon.

The prose is poetic, the plot is wonderfully paced and the illustrations are vividly drawn, thereby depicting a true duck family living a happy and prosporous life in Boston.

Although written for ages 4-8, the book is one of the best picture books to read aloud to a young audience according to many reviews.

.
Make Way For Ducklings was designated the official book of the State of Massachusetts in 2003.

Feel free to leave book review requests in comments.

Or e-mail me at annclemmons@hotmail.com

Authors note: I wrote the original Book review for Make Way For Ducklings in July of 2007, and it continues to attract many readers a day. Therefore, we I saw the links to it today, I decided to re-read it. Then, I decided it needed a good edit. (Smile) I don't how my book review remained popular after all this time, other than the fact that it's written about this timeless classic.

I read somewhere that there is a statue of Mr. and Mrs. Mallard and their off-spring in The Boston Public Garden, which doesn't surprise me. Anyway, the old book review is still posted, because I didn't want to break the link, but I hope you will enjoy this one as well, in addition I wanted to share the book with my new readers.

And as always, thanks for reading.

The Friendly Blogger And Zombie Chicken Awards

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 20:22:00 +0000

Sandee at Comedy Plus nominated me for not one, but two, ultimately fabulous awards. The first is The 2009 Friendly Blogger Award from Colleen at Short Stories in the Making.

Don't you love this awards design? And what an honor it is to receive it from one of the coolest bloggers in the blogosphere. Thank you Sandee! ( I rarely use exclamation points. I keep them in reserve for special bloggers like you.)

Click because there's more to come...

The Second Award from my buddy Sandee at Comedy Plus is the (get ready for this one, folks.) The Zombie Chicken Award, passed to Sandee from Sandi at Nothing Off Limits
Although this award may seem silly, I would advice you to take it seriously... You'll see what I mean after you read the rules...thank you again, Sandee, I'm truly honored.

The rules of the zombie chicken say...

"The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken - excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all…"

Do you see what I mean? First, let me say how honored I am, (as any writer would be) to receive an award that contains these silly heartwarming words, "their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words."

I feel like framing it and hanging it on my wall..no kidding....

I took my time in choosing the following recipients for both of these incredible awards, because of how special they are, in addition, I didn't want to risk the wrath of zombie chickens if I didn't "choose wisely."

(I'm sorry I haven't the slightest idea how or why The Disobedient Chicken who lives in my sidebar is... excuse me, "Not where she belongs. Pardon me, little chicken..." Oh, forget it, just ignore her, she is not an award.

Alright, I nominate the following blogger's for both of these ultra cool awards:

(Some of these bloggers may have already received this award, but I wanted to express the way I feel about their content, as well as their friendship; so, they'll have two awards. Hey, you can have two Academy Awards...so there-

Congratulations to the following:

Bev at Merry Weather
Ettarose at Sanity On Edge
Sandee at Comedy Plus and Blogging By Sandee
Dawn at Twisted Sister

Eric/Speedy at The Speedcat Hollydale Page

Maunie at Mauniejames 2

Daisy (and Harley too) at Daisy The Curly Cat

Babs at Beetle's Memories 'N' Ramblings
Grace at Hugz Before You Go...
The Retired One at The Retirement Chronicles

Marie at Nourish: Living, Laughing, Whining

Mother Maitri at Maitri's Heart

Girlie Geek at girliegeek
Bud at WTIT: The Radio Blog

I could go on and on, and I'm sorry that I went overboard, but there are so many bloggers out there that fit in both of these award categories that I couldn't stop. If your name is not listed here, it's probably due to the fact that I have another award in mind for you.

While I was out, I was blessed enough to receive many awards that I haven't had a chance to pass along...Therefore, I decided to have an awards day every Monday in an effort to post each and every one of them. I'm grateful to all of you who have acknowledged my work, thus, if your blog is not listed here, I didn't forget you. Remember, every Monday will be awards day on A Nice Place In The Sun for some time-

Congratulations and forgive me for passing out more than five awards...Oh ...I hope that doesn't mean I will have to brave a raving pack of zombie chickens- I wonder if that is why the Disobedient Chicken is hanging around...Do you suppose she is has been assigned some sort of chicken watch?

What impossible daydreams, thoughts, or ideas did you have when you were a child? (Tuesday's Question)

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 19:10:00 +0000

What impossible daydreams, thoughts, or ideas did you have when you were a child? I mean ideas that you actually believed could come true or were true. For example, since I grew up in the sixties, I had many friends who believed aliens would kidnap them, and I believed something similar, but my beliefs were more of a personal nature.

My father was a police officer who was often late coming home at night, so if I was still awake, I would listen to him open the refrigerator and fumble around for something to eat, as I sat on my bed prepared for whatever the intruder dressed as my Dad may have planned for our family.

As a result, I was often asked to leave the breakfast table the following morning for glaring at him with suspicious looks.

Now, I 'm left to imagine what my poor father thought about the sudden change in my disposition on the mornings after his shift at work.

Since my father wasn’t home much he was a mystery to me, therefore, I envisioned him a fraud, or some sort of impostor, an explanation that suits me today, although, when I was a child, I thought, “What is wrong with me?”

What I didn’t know then, is that children have a hard time articulating their emotions; thus, they invent other ways of facing their demons. That’s why I thought this may be a good question, considering all of us were once children, and at one time believed the unbelievable and imagined the inconceivable; a gift not lost to many of us adults, but that’s another post.

Nevertheless, this Tuesday’s Question asks about the impossible daydreams, ideas, and beliefs you experienced when you were a child. I bet this question will be funny, as well as wipe the dust from windows that have been closed for a long time.

Note to first time visitors to Tuesday's Question. If you've already participated in Tuesday's Question, you can skip this part.

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate.

All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0 Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented.

Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog. Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer. You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

Music Monday: A Rockin Good Way To Mess Around And Fall In Love

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 20:33:00 +0000

Come join Music Monday and share your songs with us. One simple rule, leave ONLY the actual post link here. You can grab this code at LJL Please note these links are STRICTLY for Music Monday participants only. All others will be deleted without prejudice.

Elephant Rope

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 06:38:00 +0000

I know the last time I posted, with the exception of my son's excellent post; it was a long time ago, on my birthday to be exact. I'm so sorry and I'll tell you what happened, but first I have some people to thank. I want to commend my son for writing a post in my absence, I was touched by his kind words, and well-written passage.

Moreover, thanks to all of you for your concern, warm wishes, and prayers. You are the best audience a writer could wish for and I'm grateful for all of you.

In addition, special thanks to Dawn from Twisted Sister and Sandee from Comedy Plus for their love, and for trying to track me down- I wish I could hug their necks real tight.

That said, boy do I have a story to tell; you see in my last post, I wrote about having to go to court because I forgot to pay a ticket, but I never made it to the courthouse, I went to the hospital instead.

Because, before I left for court, I decided to feed my cat Simon, and when I leaned over to put food in his bowl, I noticed that my feet were huge. I immediately went into what I call "now that I've seen my blood, I'm going to scream mode." I wasn't really bleeding, but you know how the wound is worse after you've discovered it's existence? That's how this was...my feet were growing by the minute, and I hadn't a person to call but my doctor, and I do not like him.

My feet were swelling at such an alarming rate, I would need a forklift to lift them soon, plus my hands were starting to swell, so I caved in and called my doctor. I took off my rings and watched Simon stare at his food as if I poisoned him, while I waited for the doctor to call back.

I could not imagine what was happening to me...I hadn't told any lies lately, and I let a grouchy woman in front of me during rush hour the day before, so why was I blowing up like a balloon?

Finally, my doctor called back, and told me to go to the ER as fast as I could...Well, I thought, no problem Doc, I'll just float over to the emergency helicopter pad and land on the top of the roof STAT- But first, I was going to need a few strong men and an elephant rope to pulley me up and down.

In any event, I was blowing up too fast to get all that equipment together...it was so scary. Nevertheless, I found a friend who managed to stuff me in his car and drive me to the ER before I flattened his tires.

You should have seen the nurses eyes avert from my body when they brought a wheel chair to the car, and I think they went back inside when I wobbled out of the car, and squished my blown up butt down in the chair.

Once we were inside the hospital, I wanted to tell everyone who was staring at me that I slugged an anesthesiologist one time when I was coming out of anesthesia- just to watch them scatter like flies- But, I thought the better of it when I remembered there was probably a warrant out for my arrest.

I had a wonderful birthday.

Note: My diagnosis. My doctor believes that I had an allergic (I'll say) reaction to the medicine I was on ...Hence, be sure and read the label on your medicine bottles carefully where it says side effects, because you never know what side of the effect you could be on; and that's a scary thought.

Be well. And I love all of you for who you are, and for reading...my silliness.

A note about the image above...(thanks to free clipart.net ) there may be more than one reason to ball your fist up when your having your blood pressure checked- Just sayin'

Golly, Mr. Policeman, Slow Down

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 16:19:00 +0000

Golly, this policeman really needs to slow down...I'm going as fast as I can...

Regrettably, Tuesday's Question will be postponed today. Because I'm in a bit of a jam at the moment...however, I will return this afternoon to explain...At least I hope, I will.

You see, I'm not always a good driver- no, that's not right, the policeman told me that I am a good driver, it's just that my foot is too heavy for the go pedal-

Hence, until automobile manufacturers start making heavier pedals, it may be a good idea for me to learn how to slow down...

However, between you and I, who looks like the speed demon in this picture?

At any rate, my father will not forgive me when he realizes what I did this morning. Because my Father is a retired policeman, (and I should know better from my days on the force anyway- go ahead and laugh) he will not understand how I managed to forget to pay a ticket before the due date, which just happened to be my birthday- a date you would think I would remember-

Yes, I am thirty five years old today,(?) and I forgot to pay a ticket that was due on the same day I was born- talk about adding insult to injury-

I realized I didn't pay the ticket this morning when my father called to tell me Happy Birthday; then I raced to my desk, grabbed the ticket, and dropped to my knees...

I stared at the date on the back of the ticket wishing it was an Etch-a-Sketch toy; that way I could wash the date away in a magical minute; But, that is not real life. Therefore, I have to get to the court house on time.

But, I will be back soon to explain more about how I became a criminal, that is, if the cartoon policeman doesn't run me off the road.

In that case, it may be longer...geesh, can't he see I'm not trying to get away?

Will post soon...

By the way, does anyone happen to have one of those "Get out of jail free" cards?

Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment-A River Runs Through It - Brad Pitt & Craig Sheffer

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 18:56:00 +0000

Have a happy Saturday, and be sure to go out and kick up your heels this evening...Boy, Brad Pitt sure has a foot for dancing-

Bloggers Show and Tell Their Fashion Disasters From The Past

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 21:02:00 +0000

Even Dogs Have Bad Hair Days

Yesterday on my weekly Tuesday's Question, I asked you to show or tell me your fashion nightmares from the past, well, mainly your wardrobe and hairstyles. I even posted a picture of what I thought was the longest permanent in history- my own.

The idea for this question came from another blogger and friend Bab's at Beetle Blog who I mentioned in yesterdays post because she wrote a post about her worst permanent. Therefore, I thought well maybe a question about your worst hair day or perm. or outfit might work as a good question.

But, I must say, only the bravest bloggers responded... Therefore, if you feel you have the courage to send in photos of your bad hair days or wardrobe emergencies, we will be more than happy to post them.

Or you are welcome to tell us about your past fashions in comments and I will post your comment along with a link to your blog as I've done here. I usually post participates answers to Tuesday's Question within the same post, however, (although I didn't mention this in yesterdays post) I decided to give everyone a little extra time to get their photos together today, therefore I'm posting an extra post with yesterdays responses.

Here is one of the pictures I posted yesterday of a pregnant me, with a permanent in my hair that lasted throughout my pregnancy. The hairdo is still growing out in the photo in yesterdays post my 14 month old son sitting on my lap-

Yesterday I felt sorry for my son when I looked at the picture below; because before he was born, the poor child didn't know that his mother would have an uncanny resemblance to Bovines when he was born.

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My first comment was from Grace at Broadway Matron who didn't have a photo but wrote an hilarious answer. Thank you Grace...(and you be sure and let us know when you find that picture. ) Oh and don't forget it includes wardrobe as well...and you still have time... ;)

Can't participate in this one - my hair is dead straight so what few pictures I have of myself is just me with dead straight hair - sometimes long, sometimes short sometimes in the middle.

I must add tho that the day before my 8th grade graduation pic was to be taken my mother cut my long hair off and permed it. I had the only Afro in my class. Needless to say there are no outstanding copies of that photo. Not to worry tho, because a month later it was dead straight again LOL

February 3, 2009 2:33 PM

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My next comment is from my dear Friend Sandee at Comedy Plus, who is in the process of looking for a photo I'm dying to see, therefore be sure and come back and see if you have it posted. If not, be sure to visit Comedy Plus, if you haven't already, you will happy you did- and remember I sent you.

I don't know when I can pull this off. I'll need to find the pictures and then scan them. It's going to take a bit, but I'll play along. I've got some 70s hair and you haven't lived until you see that.

Stand by.

Have a great day. Big hug and lotsa lovies. :)

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Next up is another dear, dear, friend Dawn at Twisted Sister who, like Sandee, is so loyal to Tuesday's Question they already deserve a medal, but yesterday she blew me away with her latest gutsy display of friendship. Although, even though I know she is shy, she is gorgeous enough to can get away with a bad hair day.

Here's Dawn with her 80's permanent having a blast with her siblings, which are,
from left to right they are:
Marilyn Dawn Brud Dale Glenda Here's Dawn's comment, followed by what I said in italics,

Oh I just know I'm gonna regret this... you've got mail. "(By the way, I got your mail. :))"

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Before you read the next comment, read this message from Dawn to Sandee in the comments to this post, it's hilarious. You see, it seems Sandee has been waiting to use her scanner...well, just read this;

This from Dawn at Twisted Sister to Sandee at Comedy Plus,

"Pleeeeasssse Sandee! Don't leave my 80's pic all by it's lonesome self!
LOL... hope some other brave soul joins me Annie!"

Then after a few hours I got this message from Sandee,

Okay, my post is up. Go have yourself a chuckle or two. Big hug and lotsa lovies. :)

Show And Tell Annie Style

Don't you love that title?

Well...it's also a great post, but I thought we shouldn't leave Dawn at Twisted Sister here by herself, so...I brought the pictures from Sandee's post over here too.

However, you should also read Show And Tell Annie Style on Comedy Plus...because it's hilarious and she recommended some great links to read at the end. Have fun laughing....

This first picture is of Sandee with her Mom's home perm. that she often speaks of in her posts. Get a load of the look in those mischievous sky blue eyes... she looks as if she could get away with her hand in the cookie...

Here's Sandee's with the "big hair" she speaks of in Show And Tell Annie Style.

And what photo album would be complete without a few Glamor Shots?

And you are glamorous, my friend in every way...

My next comment is from another dear and sweet Friend Maunie at Maunie James who didn't send a picture but did tell us a great story, thanks Maunie~ You are truly hilarious~

Wow I don't have a scanner but I will tell you a story about one of my birthdays....I had short red hair, kinda pixieish (spelling) a white leather hat perched on top.
A white angora sweater with a mini leather skirt so short I should have been arrested...and of course
thigh high white leather boots.

It cost me a fortune to look so wonderful.

I did get lots of attention...not necessarly the best kind. My sister
took a picture and said she would blackmail me later.

I adore the pictures of you Annie
you are so darn cute.

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The next answer is from Jackie at The Painted Veil a talented in addition to one of the sweetest bloggers in the blogosphere.

Although Jackie couldn't participate because her scanner is broken she left a comment anyway, which, by the way was perfectly fine. ;) Thank you Jackie~

Here's Jackies comment:

Oh Annie I can't really participate in this one much either because I don't have a scanner.

But, I can tel you this. Your hair is truly not curly compared to mine in the eighties.

Also thank you so much for dropping by on Walter's birthday.

It is taking me a while to get everyone added back into my favorites and make visits to everyone.

But you are now in my EC bar marked and I will be visiting as much as possible.

BTW...I think you look adorable in those pictures!

Big big hugs,
Jackie:-)

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Next Raymonty at Raymonty stopped by and thanked me for the song I posted for Music Monday.

You're welcome Raymonty~ :)

Here's Raymonty's comment:

Thank you for the song.

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My next commenter, Babs at Beetle's Blog, who actually inspired this weeks Tuesday Question, said,

Now you see. That's just how my hair was when I started to grow my perm out. All flat on top and sticking out at the sides, only much curlier. Then it got even worse! The last stage was the photo I posted, then I cut it all off!

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Then Grace at Broadway Matron came back to tell us something about burning a picture?

Annie: My hair does not hold a curl it is so obstinate. I've literally been thrown out of hair salons and told "wear it all one length long, or all one length short, you'll never have a hair style" Oh and when it is short, it has to be cut just right because I have cowlicks all over my head...oh, yeah and it is very thick in the back and on the sides...

And if anyone has the class picture of the 1960 8-2 graduation class from P.S. 134Q - BURN IT! (We had 6 8th grade classes of approximately 35 kids to a class).

February 3, 2009 6:48

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Kasey at Do Everything Blog
left a comment on Tuesday's Questions post.

Kasey go dig out those pictures girl. Just do what I did and have someone blindfold you until it's over. Don't worry we're not going anywhere...

No, I'm only kidding, I just glad you left a comment. (A lie) :))

Here's what Kasey said:

This does sound like a lot of fun. But I'm just not sure that I can stand to look at some of my old pictures again :)

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I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to those of you who participated in this crazy post, and invite more of you to join in if they wish. It was...or it is fun.

Also, a special thanks to Bab's for sharing her perm. disaster that gave me the idea and to Bicycle Wordpress for having a great image in google images. (The Poodle)

Show And Tell: Your Hairstyle or Wardrobe From The Past

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 17:40:00 +0000

Stuart Little could have used the curls
in the back of my hair for a ski slope.

Hello, and welcome to a Show And Tell feature of Tuesday's Question. I've decided to spice this weeks Question up a little bit, but I have to admit I had a little help from a good friend and great muse. (although she doesn't know it)

I borrowed the idea from a post that (yesterdays muse) Babs published yesterday at Beetle's Blog.

Here's the link to her post, which is entitled My Seventies Perm Disaster although from what I could tell it wasn't a disaster at all, just a funny post.

Another thing that is different this week, is that I need a picture of you from the past. Therefore, you may need a scanner or I suppose you can draw or describe yourself...but only- if you do not have a scanner available.

This is the second Tuesday's Question that is not entirely original, but I thought it would be fun, so I hope you like it. However, in order to expect you to do it, I had to myself.

This is at My mother-in-laws house, in 1986. She is giving me directions on how to the get to their new home. I remember I couldn't see because my hair was in my eyes. It's so flat on the top it resembles smashed cow poo, or at least it looks like that's what Taylor (my baby) was thinking.

Therefore, I thought I would show the world my eighties perm. disaster. This permanent lasted through my entire pregnancy, and well into the year after (Taylor) birth. But, remember you do not have to have had a permanent, we just want to know what you looked like in the past.

I cannot believe I am doing this, because although I'm an extroverted person with my friends, I'm otherwise intensely private and shy. Therefore, this will horrify me well into my old age, however, it probably wouldn't be a picnic for you either, but it might be a blast if we're in this together... in other words, if I can do it, then you can do it- So get out those pictures...and let's go back to the past~
How many of you are brave enough to share your old hairstyles and wardrobes with the internet?

Well, if you are there are two ways you can give us a glimpse into your past: You can e-mail me a picture at; annclemmons@hotmail.com, which I can upload along with your comment, or you can post a picture on your blog and I will publish a link to your blog as always, along with your comment, except I'll link to the post where your picture is displayed. Make sense?

Whichever way you feel more comfortable, is fine. Also, if you do not have a picture or a scanner a description will be fine, but don't cheat, because me and Gatsby (my blog dog at the end of the page) will know...and that will not be a good thing...

If you have any questions or advice about how to post your photos, please do not hesitate to e-mail me or leave a comment.

I really cannot believe I'm doing this, but here goes...(Would you believe my hands are shaking? Oh...and by the way I'm carrying an 8 pound baby in the image at the top where I'm about to stuff my face, I wasn't that heavy.

Alright, that's it I started it off, and now it's up to you...

You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

(To my regular participates: The answers from last Tuesday's Question that were not posted due to computer problems, will be posted shortly. All of your answers were superb, and I thank you for participating.)

And if you are new to Tuesday's Question there's a note for you at the end of the post after the answers. Just click "Read More"

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate. All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0

Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented. Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog.

Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer.

What Is The Worst Thing Your Pet Has Ever Done ? (Tuesday's Question)

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 16:56:00 +0000

Hello, and welcome to another Tuesday's Question. I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with the fictional "Toonces" on Saturday Night Live years ago, but I think you'll agree that if Toonces were real, he would win the prize for the worlds worst cat.

In addition, this past Christmas we were introduced to the movie adaption of the book, Marley And Me, by John Grogan about "The Worlds Worst Dog," who is quite possibly the worst canine ever born.

I'm in the middle of reading the book,(and I plan to see the movie) and trust me, so far Marley is a lovable handful of Trouble, and I capitalized the T on purpose.

In fact, Marley's owner and the author of Marley and Me John Grogan, subtitled the book, "Life and Love with the Worlds Worst Dog."

But, what about the other animals out there in the world? I happened to have the world's worst cat, and I'm sure a few of you have been blessed with owning or knowing a mischievous feline or canine rebel, therefore today's Tuesday's Question asks;

What is The Worst Thing Your Pet Has Ever Done? The question includes animals that you've owned in the past, animal friends, animal nieces and nephews, etc...

If this is the first time you've heard about A Nice Place In The Sun's Tuesday's Question, I have a note containing more information about it at the end of this post, and thanks to the rest of you for your weekly support each week, as well as your fantastic answers.

As soon as I come up with a good logo for Tuesday's Question I plan to give out some T-Shirts to my most supportive contributors, but that's a ways down the road, however, I will put a sign up when we're close to getting there. -corny huh?-

Anyway, thanks to my regulars and there's a note for the rest of you. I will post your answers with a link to your blog after the "read more" hack. Have fun!

Have children?

Here is a link to the hardcover of Bad Dog Marley a special adaptation for young readers. By John Grogan (Author), Richard Cowdrey (Illustrator)

Note to first time visitors to Tuesday's Question.

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate.

All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0 Your answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented.

Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog. Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer. You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

Thanks and have fun~

We have an excellent turnout of funny and touching answers this Tuesday, so treat yourself and click on the word's "Read More"

Our first Answer is from my dear dear friend and loyal Tuesday's Question participate,

Sandee from Comedy Plus, whose answers are as much fun as her blog. Therefore be sure

to take advantage of this link to Comedy Plus, I promise you will not regret it.

Here's Sandee's Answer:

I'd not heard of Toonces before. What a wreck of a cat. Yikes.

We have a flat coat retriever. Her name is Little Bit although she weight 80 pounds. We named her Little Bit because she is a little bit of this and a little bit of that.

She was a throw away dog (twice) and no one seemed to want her. I was still working when she picked me out to be the new master. It was a great choice on my part to let her adopt us. She has been a great source of joy.

So, what's the worst thing she has done?

She has farted after eating pigs ears and it's made our eyes water. No, that's not the worst thing.

She's gotten into the kitchen garbage can on numerous occasions and spread garbage all over the place. No, that's not the worst thing.

She will kill any small critter she finds outdoors (not little dogs folks). They just don't have a chance. Well, that's not the worst thing.

She will drink water out of the toilet. Well, I guess that's not the worst thing.

She licks her behind daily. Well, I suppose that isn't the worst thing either.

I've come to the conclusion that our Little Bit is a perfect dog and does absolutely no wrong at all.

Have a terrific day honey. Big hug and lotsa lovies. :)

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The next answer is from no other than Daisy herself, from Daisy, The Curly Cat
who says that she is a good cat, but she and her mom have had some problems with her brother Harley. In fact she wrote a post about it today if you would like to hear more about what Harley did click here

And here's Daisy's comment: Thank you Daisy~

Oh my goodness, we LOVE Toonces. The cat who could drive a car! I have always wanted to drive a car. I am pretty sure I would not have a fiery wreck though.

I wrote today on my blog about the bad things my brother Harley has done. He almost ruined our laptop computer by spilling water into the keyboard. We took it all apart and dried it quickly, but the "A" key stopped working. Luckily, we got a replacement keyboard and it works fine now.

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My next answer is from my dear dear friend Dawn at Twisted Sister, who, like Sandee, has been a loyal Tuesday's Question participate from the beginning. Dawn also has some very funny posts on her blog as I writing this... Thanks pal~

Well I can't say ever owned a pet as crazy as Toonces!
Miiko is a little nuts but what can I say? I probably made him that way.

I guess if I have to point a finger it would be at the dog. Sasha has been known to kill baby rabbits and squirrels. I find that hard to deal with... but the absolute worst thing was when she killed and ate my brother in law's brand new shoes. I was mortified!

Great question Ann!

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The next answer is from Lizzie at Lizzie's Choice whose blog has a collection of articles by talented writers all over the web- Thanks Lizzie~

My Doberman/Labrador cross still goes crazy every so often but at 17 it isn't as frequent as it used to be. As a pup, he once ate half the lounge carpet and tore the back out of an armchair when I left him for 2 hours to go to the shop.

He was also very good at climbing onto kitchen worktops and would empty my cupboard. Yikes!

Fortunately he is almost always good now!

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Up next is an answer by none other than another dear, dear, friend, Maunie at Maunie James I just realized when I went to copy the link to Maunie James, that Maunie she has an article about her bad and wonderful kitty Penny posted today. Isn't that a coincidence?

Here's Maunie's answer:

Well honey Penny the most wonderful cat in the world steals and hides things...if she can carry it in her mouth or drag it with her paws...it's gone. Last Christmas it was orniments off the tree.

this year we couldn't decorate so she got crazy and took one sock of as many pairs as she could find.

Hubbys keys.that was a good one.

one glove or mitten...drives ya nuts.

And we are not sure how she did it (must have taken her most of the day) the remote.

We did track down most of the stuff in an empty box for the lap
top we were taking down here.

If she could only talk..I love her to pieces...you too honey.

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That's it so far, except for your answer, hence, What is The Worst thing Your Pet Has Ever Done?

Type rest of the post here

The Final Draft...

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 14:13:00 +0000

Maybe the final draft of Clarence lived Next Door is in the faucet in my kitchen? Or perhaps it's hiding in my closet or my computer ate it before it went surfing this morning. Everything in my life is unpredictable, someone should write "The Everything Guide" To Annie's Life, or better yet, How To Find Everything You Lose In your Middle Ages.

Because, I want to know before I get there... the older I get the more nothing in my life makes sense...I cannot read without finding my glasses...I have a pair on my bed post, in my car, and on my desk, because I will not be able to FIND them if I have just one pair. Soon, I'm going to have to leave reading glasses at my favorite restaurants so that I will be able to read the menu. Which reminds me, I forgot to leave a pair at the grocery store.

But now, now my life is getting ridiculous, now I've lost an entire short story on my computer.

My first Blog Short Story I was going to post and the same one I spent all day Thursday putting back together again; another long story.

I'm not sure how many of you read the reminder I posted on the top of my main page yesterday. I wanted to be sure and remind you to read the ending of the first part of the first Blog Short story entitled, Clarence Lived Next Door. However, the reason I posted the reminder instead of the of the story itself, was because I was polishing the final draft; but now, in retrospect, I realize I should have posted it then.

I had the whole story filed on my computer, but when I wrote a blog post on half of the story awhile back, I split it up into different files, hence, I was adding the ending and tightening some lose ends, when I decided to look at another Clarence Lived Next Door file.

I haven't any idea why, except maybe I wanted to make sure I didn't leave anything out, but when I went back to retrieve the file with the full story, the page was blank. The story finally used its wings and flew away- it simply disappeared off the page like magic- leaving me to stare at a blank piece of paper for I do not know how long.

I spent the day yesterday about to pull my hair out I was so frustrated. How in the world does a Microsoft word document disappear? And what really infuriated me was the only part of the story I didn't have saved in another file was the ending, the part that disappeared. Therefore, I have to rewrite the whole story from where I left off on Friday's post.

I' m sorry that I'm a bubble headed bimbo, and I promise I will have it written for you in the next few days. In addition, I want to offer a personal apology to those of you who have come by to see if the story was posted.

Moreover, please accept my heartfelt thanks for your friendship and support with my newest blogging adventure. And again, I promise to have the title, Clarence Lived Next Door posted as quickly as possible. Please let me know if I left out any pals-I may have lost them too-

Sandee at Comedy Plus
The Muse from A Diva's Hammer... Wielded By The Muse
Ettarose at Sanity on Edge
Dawn at Twisted Sister
Daisy and her family at Daisy the Curly Cat
Grace at Broadway Matron
Mike from Rambling Stuff
Nessa at Nessa's Place

To those of you who felt left by the cliffhanger, I'm going to work throughout the weekend, so I should have the story ready between now and Monday. But I also thought you might like to try to guess the ending... but only if you want, and you think it will be fun. If you want to give it a try just leave a comment and I'll tell you if you're warm, cool, or hot, but I will not give away the ending.

Although, you'll know if you're correct soon anyway, because again I promise I'm working hard to finish it.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this weekends Favorite Movie Moment, which I'll post tomorrow, or have fun trying to guess the ending of Clarence Lived Next Door.

At least I have the first part written...and if anyone out there happens to know how a Microsoft Word Document can disappear please let me know, O.K.? Plus, if you know who the thief is, perhaps we can get it back sooner.

Until then, I will continue to look all over my apartment, especially in Simon's toy box; I'm kidding, not even Simon can make a file disappear. Plus, this time, I suspect the computer has something to do with it anyway...

Don't You Love Lasagna?

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 16:37:00 +0000

I’ve never been much of a cook, and shortly after my divorce, I had a fight with every cooking utensil and ingredient in my kitchen while trying to make lasagna for a man I was crazy about at the time. Now, I refer to him as the rebound man, but at the time, I thought he was going to save my life.

I was writing and selling ads for a local magazine earning a yearly salary of zero, in addition to writing plays for a local children’s theater that my son was involved in, consequently the company did well, but I didn’t.

Therefore, between working all the time, and rearing a child on my own, I barely had time to breath, let alone date, although I was determined to make the relationship work.

The man I was seeing had children but they were older than Taylor, and therefore not as active, and his ex- wife had custody, so Taylor joined us on most of our dates.

My new friend was nice enough about single parent things, but after we dated for a while, I felt bad about being busy all the time and never having a baby sister.

Therefore, one day in an effort to make him happy, I said, "Why don’t I fix you a meal this week-end, and then we’ll go see a movie, just the two of us?"

He smiled and said, "Oh no Ann, you don’t have to do that. I didn’t mind helping you with your car, I mean…"

At which point I thought to myself, please do not do it, mister. Please don’t treat me like I’m a damsel in distress, because I like you and you will ruin everything...please stop talking, dumb man, please stop-

Hence, before he could utter another word, a word with the potential to ruin a perfectly good evening, I turned to him and said one of the dumbest things I’ve said in my life, "Don’t you love lasagna?"

(I already knew lasagna was his favorite dish from one of our first dates or our "interview" date.)

"Yeah," he said, while shaking his forefinger up and down, and looking at me as if I was a mind reader.

"As a matter of fact I love lasagna," he said, scratching his head, and wondering how I could have known something private about him.

In fact, when I look back on it he was probably worried I had asked someone questions about him, and was about to get antsy; or he may have been beginning to think I wanted to marry him or something, the narcissist.

I was getting frustrated by the whole single mother dating scene; I felt like I may as well start looking into retirement homes for singles because there was no way I could split myself into...meaning I couldn’t be at home with my child and out on date at the same time.

Moreover "Split myself into" is one of the remarks I said under my breath in the grocery store with Taylor, who was seven at the time when we went to get supplies for the lasagna, which by the way, I hadn’t a clue how to bake.

I didn’t mind making my new friend his favorite dish, in fact that was the point, I wanted to do something nice for him, I just didn’t have any where near the amount of money I needed to make lasagna. I was so young I barely knew how to cook...

I remember turning the exhaust on over the stove before making pancakes for my husband and Taylor years before..

Then after our divorce every time I began to make pancakes, Taylor stopped me and said, "Wait, wait a minute Momma," before he climbed on the stove to turn the exhaust on himself, poor child.

Anyway, getting back to Taylor and I shopping for the lasagna ingredients and me rambling under my breath; (if I ever learned anything from parenting, is was if you think your children are not listening or watching what you are doing at all times, think again.)

Moving on, I was so upset when I reread the list of ingredients I got out of the package of a tomato soup can, I panicked and said to myself, "If I could just disappear, I just want to fly away, and never return. A single pan of lasagna is going to cost me at least a weeks worth of groceries and all I have is enough money to buy groceries for a week."

When I realized the predicament I was in, I lost my composure and started talking aloud to myself holding my son’s hand as he walked beside me in silence.

"There just isn't any way I can afford to make this lasagna, there just isn't, gosh what is wrong with men? If I could afford to make lasagna, I would have been able to hire a team of cooks, a housekeeper, and a mechanic. Actually, for that matter, why not just take a year off and go to the Bahamas or better yet, I can write a novel and put Taylor in an excellent private school."

Oh, but wait I need to make his lasagna first...we have to do that, that is, after I write three ads for a run down pancake house that probably won’t pay me a penny..."

I went on like this until I felt Taylor squeezing my hand, then I heard him say,

"Momma I’ll help you make the lasagna, I know how to do it. I know you need a friend to go out with, and Daddy told me to help, I’ll make the lasagna.

My heart melted, I have never loved a person more, then I loved him at that moment.

I haven't a clue how we managed to get all of the ingredients (I probably spent all my money) but we did, and it didn’t end there.

Afterward, I realized I didn’t have a pan big enough to hold the amount of ingredients that I had on my list, because I doubled the recipe, thinking my date could take some home and we would have enough to eat for at a week, which by now, had become a necessity, at least for me.

Therefore, I went back to the store and bought a pan big enough and deep enough, (or at least I thought it was) to load it down with layer upon layer of every ingredient in lasagna. I was so proud of myself.

Then the time came for me to show Rebound man the kind of woman he just may be lucky enough to have by his side for a awhile.

Nevertheless, as soon as he knocked on the door the buzzer on the oven went off, so I had Taylor answer the door while I went to get my delicacy out of the oven. My friend said hello to Taylor and headed toward the kitchen as I headed toward the living room, but I didn’t make it out of the kitchen with the pan of lasagna.

When I pulled the pan from the oven door, the ingredients were too heavy for the pan to hold them, therefore as if in slow motion, the entire pan crumbled onto the kitchen floor….and into my lap.

It looked like someone took two dozen jars of everything in the grocery store and poured it on my lap. I sat in the pile of food crying uncontrollably, embarrassed that I had lost control the way I did, but I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my face. My date tried to come in the kitchen, and I could tell he wanted to laugh, but I threw my hand up to shield my face full of tomato sauce and tears.

In addition, Taylor intercepted, "Now, don’t you be mad at my mom because that was all the money she had for groceries this week."

My friends mouth dropped open and he started to say something, but Taylor went on, "There was no way she could afford this lasagna, and she wants to know what is wrong with men? When she found out how much this was going to cost she wanted to fly away and never come back...because if she had the money to buy lasagna she could afford to buy us a plane, and we could have a housekeeper, and a thousand ninja turtles, and even a brand new car..."

It was so funny, I lost my composure again, but in a good way...Finally, I stopped him and hugged him back and forth, reminding him that I didn’t say anything about Ninja Turtles or planes...

Then, the three of us sat in the slop and laughed…until it was too gross to anymore. Incidentally, we went out to eat… Moreover, the rebound man and I have been back and forth for years now...Taylor has not bought his plane yet, and I still cannot cook.

Have You Ever Done Something Out Of Character For You?

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 20:03:00 +0000

Authors note: For some unknown reason I was reading my comments from my e-mail yesterday, with the exception of the first one. There was a big sign over my post telling me that my site was out of service... Hmmm... don't ya love how they tell that and then they don't tell you why? Although, I guess it's not as bad as finding your water cut off when you get home, but almost. Anyway, that's why I'm publishing all of your excellent, wonderful, brilliant, heartfelt, and generous answers today as opposed to yesterday.

All of them were wonderful as usual. If you do not see your answer published, or your link doesn't come through, please do not hesitate to let me know...you're important to me. And as always, thanks for participating. :))

Hello, and welcome to this weeks Tuesday's Question...I apologize for the delay, however, for some reason it took me all morning to think of a question today. I know I haven't asked every question on earth, although after reading through the Tuesday's Questions in archives this morning, I was beginning to wonder.

But, just when I think I've asked every question there is to ask, I find what I believe will be a good question hiding somewhere in the recesses of my mind, and today in an old box of memories hidden behind some cobwebs I found this one;

Have you ever done something out of character for you?

For example, have you ever dyed your hair jet black, when you're a natural blond, the day before you started a new job ?

Or stapled (some of you know about this) your bosses tie to his shirt? Or decked an anesthesiologist after surgery knocking him down on the operating room floor?

(That is how I inherited the nickname "Slugger" from my son. And this is information I assume is between us, right?)

And this last one, I think the television show Friends copied off of MY friends and I- because we also danced in the outside water fountains in New Orleans at a Rolling Stones concert.

Which for me, was completely out of character. Well...really all of these examples are~

So...now it's your turn, Have you ever done something out of character for you?

Note to first time visitors to Tuesday's Question.

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate.

All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0 Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented.

Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog. Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer. You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

Our first brave blogger to answer was Confused (Robert) from Black Tie And Sneakers

well there are a few times where under the influence of alcohol that I have done some slightly..:) out of character but I am not sure they qualify and out of a sense of self survival I would have to plead the fifth to..:))))))

hope you are well Ann..

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And the next comment is from my good friend Sandee at Comedy Plus

I'm kind of with confused. Maybe when I had a couple of cocktails, but mostly I've done what I've wanted to do. I've done what I thought was right for me. Pretty much all my life.

I hope you are feeling well too honey. Have a terrific day. Big hug and lotsa lovies. :)

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The next answer is from Lizzie at Lizzie's Choice

I have recently done something that was totally out of character for me. I am usually so careful but I just threw caution to the wind and did what I wanted to do. What was it? Well I can't tell you that on the grounds that it might incriminate me!

January 20, 2009 4:26 PM

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The next answer is from Speedy at Speedcat Hollydale Page

Robert must be quite a character at the corner saloon!!

Tough question for me ... I think people are not surprised by anything I do really.

Out of character for me would be cruelty, or something judgemental, and I am completely unable to take on those qualities.

hmmmmm

OK! - I think I have one!!

It just POPPED into my head. I am not what you would call "organized", or "agenda motivated". Calling me an obsesive compulsive is as far from the truth as could be. With that in mind ....

Many years ago my boss asked me to run the warehouse. I was reluctant, but he offered me a raise, and that was all it took. For some reason, my messy self became a fuss-budget. I introduced a system of organization, and became infatuated with having everything in neat rows, clean, and properly placed. Even something out of alignment caused panic. People started calling me overbearing!! What? Me??
Anyway, I was not happy working in ONE spot, and eventually asked be be out on the road again.
I think aliens took over my mind for that period of time in the warehouse.... that's the only way to explain it!!

January 20, 2009 4:30 PM

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And the next answer is also from Speedy at Speedcat Hollydale Page

wow!

Two comments in while I wrote mine ... I must have been obsesive compulsive with it??

HA HAAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!

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Hapi at HapiBlogging with Pleasure provided us with some useful information for the advanced and beginning blogger. Be sure and check out HapiBlogging with you have the chance...

Here's Hapi's comment~

Happy Wednesday! Bloghoppin' here... Hey, I have an interesting tutorial for you that I have written myself. It is about adding Adsense on your Single Post in XML template. I hope you'll like it! God Bless you!

However, Hapi, next time we would love to have your answer to Tuesday's Question~

God Bless you too, and thank you for visiting~

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My next answer is from my good friend Ettarose, at Sanity on Edge another regular on Tuesday's Question; Thank you for the brain storming Ettarose, and I'll love ya always~

Jeez, Annie spam? I hate it. I am really trying to think of something out of character for me and nothing comes to mind. I can be very mean when I have to and then turn around and smile sweetly. I love with all my being, but I have been known to be a little shit when I am crossed. Sorry, if I think of anything I will be back.

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Our next answer is from Kasey at Do Everything Blog
where everyone should visit at least once. Thanks Kasey.

Well, I've thought about it before.
Does that count?

"And yes, Kasey I believe it counts...laughing..."

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The next answer is from my friend Grace at Broadway Matron who is another loyal Tuesday's Question commenter, thank you Grace.

Out of character? If I were to be the judge of that, then I say never. If other people were to be the judge then almost everything I do is out of character. We rarely, if ever, show all sides of us to any one person. There are folks who think I am an optimistic up-beat person and others who think I am serious and somber and even depressed. Some see me as loving and kind and others think I am a cold-hearted, unemotional bitch...So it goes...Being any one thing all the time would be out of character for me.

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Listen to this next comment, I laughed, I'm certainly glad this act was out of character...(laughing)or at least I hope it was- The commenter is Medela at Medela Breast Pump Deals

Talking of doing something out of your character, Let me tell you this I once slapped a guy! generally I am very calm and cool and never even pinch anyone, so that is quite an out of character thing, isn't it?

Yep, Medela, it is...laughing...thanks again

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And our last answer so far is from Unfinished Rambler at Unfinishedrambler

Out of character? I guess, for me, it was going on a country booze cruise and ending up on another level with a sheet metal workers union who definitely were not country. Let's say "urban." I ended up dancing to "Play That Funky Music" by Wild Cherry. Was alcohol involved? Um...yes, it was. :)

From Author: I don't know Unfinished Rambler, but it seems to me that alcohol and "Play That Funky Music" do not go always go well together, but, on the other hand, maybe they do...(Smile) Thanks for the comment~

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My next comment is from dizzblnd at Soggy-Doggy-Bloggy...

Thank you for following me. I appreciate it.

As for your question..

I occasionaly spontaneously decide to clean my house all day.

I am a messyholic.. so it's waaaaaaaaaaaaay out of character

January 21, 2009 6:19 PM

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Then Nessa at Nessa's Place
stopped and left a comment for the first time. And I feel bad because she didn't know about Tuesday's Question. Shame on me, I need to promote Tuesday's Question more, but I want to make another button for it. There's something that bothers me about the button for Tuesday's Question. I'm not sure what it is but I'm going to make a new one. Anyway, thanks Nessa for visiting, and leaving a comment, and I'm thrilled you know about it now. :)))

Oh i love this........how did i not know you did this though? I'll set a reminder to come check Tuesday and join in on the fun.

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Thank you everyone for being such great sports and remember if I missed your comment, please be sure and let me know...And don't forget to visit the participating blogger's blogs, because remember, chances are if you liked a bloggers answer, you will also like their blogs...have a great day-

And goodbye, until next Tuesday~

Simon's Catnip Toy

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 07:51:00 +0000

It was freezing in my apartment this morning- and I mean freezing- I wanted to stay under the covers where it was warm. But, I had to be as still as I could, because if my cat Simon knew I was awake, I could forget going back to sleep.

However, I thought it was probably too late for that, because moments before, I heard him stirring around at the end of my bed- yes, my bed, not his-although he has a huge bed.

I kept my eyes closed hoping he would think I was still asleep, but my hopes faded, after
I felt his paw plop over my mouth and nose, followed by a drawn out, "Meoow."

His meow sounded tender and kind, but different, almost like he actually had a southern drawl or he was in the middle of yawning when he meowed. I didn’t have the heart to push him off the bed, so I continued to pretend I was sleeping, hoping he would believe me. Although it was hard to pretend I was asleep with his paw on my face and his hair in my nose.

Moreover, I could feel his eyes peering at me, and his other paw on my arm, then he started drawling out more meows...

“Meow”

Silence.

His next Me-OW slowly slid out of his mouth in a long drawl that sounded like he was either in distress, drunk, or asking a question.

"Me-OW?"

Silence again.

And the next one was louder..."Me-OW?"

I could feel his comical face looking into mine, I say comical, because Simon resembles the Santa Claus puppet that Burl Ives played in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

He is a Grey tabby cat with a white beard and mustache that looks just like the Santa Claus puppet. Simon is cute, except he stares at people’s faces-, which can be a little rude and embarrassing, although at times it's funny... but lately he's been acting belligerent, and as I mentioned before, he seems tipsy.

Well anyway, back to Simon's habit of staring, when I said it's sometimes funny, I suppose it depends upon why he is staring at you, because he has different reasons for his unacceptable behavior. For example, he stares at you when he’s hungry- and it doesn’t matter who you are- he also stares at people he thinks he may be able to manipulate, but he is a loving cat.

The Real Simon Cat with his scratch post on Christmas Day
What aggravates me is that people do not know why he is glaring at them…therefore he gets a reaction out of them, such as, “Oh, look at the POOR little kitty, are you hungry?”

And because he liked the tone of their voice he raises his tail in the air, meows, and curls his body around their legs, as if to say, "Thank Goodness, someone has noticed..."

Then people actually ask him in front of me again, "Oh, is the little kitty hungry?" while Simon meows as if to say yes, in his slow meow, the slowest longest meow I've ever heard a cat utter.

He has more of a southern drawl than I do, and what I find humorous is that Maine Coon cats are from...you guessed it- Maine. But, of course he has lived in the South with us since he was a baby, so he is our cat with a Southern meow.

I cannot believe people ask your animals questions like that (or at least they do mine) with you standing right there…like they're trying to give you an easy why to confess the abuse you've inflicted on your animal. I mean, do people actually expect you to answer for your pet?

Yes, as a matter of fact my cat is saying, “Meow, please give me something to eat, my owner, yes that lady right there, is starving me to death, so please get help-fast.”

Hence, I’m sure you get my meaning about his stare, which I have no doubt he knows what he is doing- he gets miles out of his eyes and stare.

Anyway, I could see that he was wearing his hungry stare when he looked in my face this morning- his face was so close to mine I could feel his whiskers- now you know a lot of woman would be jealous of that, so I suppose I am lucky, but he was acting weird, and his meow sounded different and even more drawn out than normal, therefore I began to wonder if something was wrong.

Even his stare looked off this morning, but I shrugged it off thinking that he was probably just in a bad mood, or his stomach hurt, but I didn’t feel like dealing with him, so I ignored my hunch.

Hence, the more he moaned and purred and dug his claws in my skin, the more I thought something may be wrong and when he realized I was not asleep, but ignoring him, he meowed and dramatically threw himself over on his back until he rolled off the bed.

Then he started running around my apartment as if he was at the local gym or lived on an obstacle course. And I remembered what was wrong, I don’t know why I didn’t remember it before, perhaps because I was half awake or I temporarily blocked it out, but I suddenly recalled why he might be acting like a wild cat beast.

However, I managed to get out of bed anyway, and face the fact that I gave Simon a scratch post for Christmas that was covered with catnip.

Now, I don’t have a lot of experience with catnip, but it seems to me that Simon cannot hold his buzz, because he is still happily galloping around my apartment destroying everything in sight.

Therefore, as he continued running his marathon through my apartment, tapping me on the back of my ankle and dashing off again, I surrendered and got in the shower.

When I was in the shower, I could hear him leaping from what sounded like my entertainment center, and onto my bookshelf, then he landed on what sounded like my side table- where I later found the bookmark out of the book I’m reading.

I cannot believe I did this to myself, but I guess I wanted to get Simon something he really liked for Christmas- because for some unknown reason I adore the animal- and I thought the scratch post was a great present for a good price.

And he does love it, because when we opened it for him on Christmas morning, he was as happy as a baby grizzly with his first fish…, but when he started acting like a wild papa grizzly, which we mistook his behavior for pure joy.

He even laid his head against his new gift ensuring it would definitely be covered with his scent, and then walked away with his tail in the air. I was happy he loved it, because it’s hard to find a gift for Simon.

Although, since he’s had the scratch post, he entertains our guests by swinging around and around it, until he picks up enough momentum to slip off and fly across the floor. I have never seen anything like it, everyone in the room starts laughing and he does it so fast you can’t catch your breath from laughing at him.

This scratch post makes him happy, and he knows that people are laughing at him, so I hate to take it away but at the same time, he can be extremely destructive, and frankly he is too destructive to behold.

Talk about feel foolish when I called a friend who has always owned cats and she told me that cats do indeed love catnip. Obviously, I was familiar with the herb or whatever it is; I just didn’t have a clue how potent it is, hence no more catnip for Simon, except, maybe on special occasions, like in the next few years.

Moreover, I guess, he can have what is already in the scratch post. I forgot to ask my friend how long the scent would stay that potent, so I guess I’m going to have to live with it until it wears out.

In any event, Simon has been keeping me up all night, running to his new scratch post, then jumping on top of the entertainment center and jumping off again- and flying- or he feels like he is- down the hallway, jumping on my bed and pouncing on my head until he wears himself out.

I know Catnip is supposed to make cats feel good, but damn. I've had to spray Simon with a water bottle (I use to keep him in line) almost every night since Christmas to keep him from waking everyone up in the middle of the night playing with- the-scratch- post.

Actually, I should have remembered that wildcat beast look on his face this morning, since he’s been wearing it since Christmas. Hence, Simon wasn’t hungry when he woke me up this morning; instead he was flying high on Catnip.

It's funny how sometimes the whole puzzle comes together when you find the missing piece, isn’t it? At least I hope that’s true, because if it is, maybe I’ll be able to piece my apartment back together. That is, since I've found the piece that was causing all the trouble...

By the way, would anyone like to have a Maine Coon grey tabby cat? He has had his shots, is neutered, has a litter box, toys, and a brand new scratch post.

We will contribute his first bag of food.

Blog Shorts....Clarence Lived Next Door

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 01:19:00 +0000

Authors note: Please refer (or skim over) the previous post before reading.

I had a few problems with the original story I was going to post for my first Blog Shorts, The Day It Rained In The Afternoon. Moreover, I know you’re not going to believe me if I tell you that Simon ate it.

Therefore, I suppose I should take responsibility for the delay and not blame it on my poor cat. The truth is I had another deadline to meet for another short story I sent in to a short story contest, and I’m too much of a perfectionist to post the original Blog Shorts title, that is not today. But, I’m going to post an older story I wrote about a year ago for a local magazine. It is entitled, Clarence lived next door, in fact, some of my regular readers may recognize the first part, because I used an excerpt of it for an imagination piece.

At the time, I thought about using the whole story but I was afraid it would be too long for the blog, so I used it on a post about imagination. And now after all this time, I can post the whole short story.

I put the imagination post in draft, but to those of you who remember it you will now know the ending, or the whole story, fiction of course. I use my grandmother’s name and home for the setting, but the story is a work of fiction.

I will post the conclusion to Clarence Lived Next Door next Friday, and the short story(The Day It Rained In The Afternoon) I was going to originally post today the following Friday.

And I hope you will be able to read the one that I sent in to the short story contest in the magazine (sorry I cannot name the publication) because that will mean that I won, which will also mean maybe we can all go out to dinner.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my first blog short, Clarence Lived Next Door

I was out of breath when I finally arrived on my grandmother's (Nana) front porch steps. I ran all the way to the end of our street before reaching her house.

“Nana, are you home?” I cried.

I inspected her dog Sam's swinging porch door, because I realized I left my key to the porch at home. I was nine years old.

“Nana?” I cried again, as I pushed the dog door open to pet Sam, who was whining and wagging his tail, happy to have a visitor, particularly one interested in his swinging porch door.

Sam cocked his head from side to side, and barked a lazy affectionate bark that lingered for a second or two, followed by a half-bark- growl-yawn, wagged his tail, and lay on the porch. He watched with little interest when I rolled through the his door, but he nervously licked me on top of my head once I was on the porch.

“Sam, stop!” I said, “Where is your Mom?”

I asked again, but he barked and whimpered and paced around the porch-

I wrapped my arms around his fur coat and hugged him as we sat on the porch floor.

I wondered where Nana could be because she was usually at home, but the house was silent and still from the outside heat- it seemed abandoned.-

I sat down on the porch floor instead of a lounge chair, so that I could pet Sam, and see the yard through the screen. The porch smelled like cypress, and I drew circles in the pollen that collected on the porch floor. Sam still seemed nervous about something and he kept pushing his nose under my hand, forcing me to pet him.

It was quiet and hot, so he finally went and lay on a sheet my grandmother had designated for him in the corner of the porch. I thought of my friend Clarence, who was also my grandmother’s yardman. Was he home? If a bad person was around, would he save me?

Although, I could barely see his house through the ancient oak trees and foliage that stood in its path. Clarence gives my friends and I Root Beer Soda, and he pays us to work in his garden if we're already there working for my grandmother.

Clarence lives in a little house on my grandmother's property in return for yard work, but it is a few blocks from her house, with a separate driveway and fence, so they both have their own privacy. Which means if I needed help from Clarence today, I would have to run through the yard and under two fences to reach his house.

I was daydreaming about a plan that day, because it just seemed eerie, and because I thought I heard what sounded like the rustling of leaves, or maybe footsteps-it definitely wasn’t wind- and it was coming from somewhere in the yard.

I had a strong sense that something was wrong, or that someone was watching me. In fact, it occurred to me that if someone were watching me, they might think I was a criminal.

After all, I did climb in a swinging dog door on my grandmother’s front porch without her permission. My life flashed before my eyes, but I argued with the possibility of my life ending anytime soon, so I told myself it was just my imagination.

Although my heart was racing like a race car engine and my body was pumping enough adrenaline to lift a weather balloon.

By now, I was drenched with terror and panic and I had to get out of there, but when I tried the front doorknob, my palms were too sweaty to hold the handle, and I forgot about the dog door. I paced back and forth, unsure of what to do, while Sam kept turning his head, trying to understand what was wrong and barking.

I was sure a mad man was watching me, and I wished my grandmother would drive in the driveway.

Then I heard what sounded like footsteps in the side yard behind the house. I intuitively felt someone’s presence... and heard what I thought sounded like someone walking on leaves in the side yard... I stood motionless on the front porch, Sam barked, and my heart raced as the intruder rounded the corner and approached the side yard. I braced myself for the worse….

Stay tuned...for the conclusion next Friday, Jan, 23, 2009

Thank you~

I'm Catching Up...

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 22:33:00 +0000

Hello everyone, first of all, I want to apologize to my favorite blogger's (you know who you are) for not visiting as often as I usually do- But, I've missed you.

And I know you're probably not going to believe this, but I couldn't find my keyboard. I'm telling the truth, I promise, I think it was because of the piles of work on my desk, however I did finally find it, thanks to Simon- my cat- who slid on his behind across the papers on the keyboard while coasting on one of his flights of fancy. Hence, if you don't have a cat, get one, they are as unpredictable, as they are dependable. In any event, now that I've found my keyboard, I can catch up on my work, which includes some upcoming surprises.

The first of which is an idea for fresh content, which I'm writing for you at this moment, so to speak.

I'm not sure how it's going to work, but I've decided to try what I think will be interesting; and if it isn't, I hope you will do one or both of two things; forget I ever did it and/or forgive me.

Alright, here goes, in addition to my love for writing for children, I also like to write short stories, but the length and format are hard to do on a blog; and you'll have to wait a little longer to read my children's books in print. :)

Therefore, I've decided to take a professional risk (mainly because editors do not have time to read blogs) and write what I've decided to call Blog Shorts, or blog short stories every Friday.

I think Blog Shorts is an appropriate title considering these stories will not include all of the elements or the length of a traditional short story.

However, they will be longer than a blog post, therefore, I thought if I published the first part of the story every Friday and the conclusion the following Friday, everyone would have more time to read them, and it would add to the suspense of the story and it's conclusion.

In addition, please note that although not all of the Blog Shorts stories will be humorous, my blogging style, writing voice, and brand for A Nice Place In The Sun will not change; it will stay a humorous blog and all of it's other characteristics will remain the same.

Well...that's it, since I better get back to work and then to bed because my first Blog Short, entitled, The Day It Rained In The Afternoon will post sometime around mid-day tomorrow. I hope you will like it, and feel free to let me know in comments what you think. You're the best~

Until then,

Annie

Describe Your Favorite Simple Moment? / Tuesday's Question

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 17:14:00 +0000

"I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense..."

Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896, from the National Trust collection.

Hello everyone. Yep, I'm finally posting a Tuesday's Question, and I'm sorry for the inconsistent postings. However, I've received the go ahead from my doctor to begin publishing a few posts a week on A Nice Place In The Sun, plus I can start writing manuscripts and freelance full time again. I'm was happy to get the news, and as far as how I feel, I say "Damn the tornadoes, full speed ahead."

So if I take it easy and don't rush out of the starting gate too fast, I'll be back in the race soon enough. (Until then, I hope you can forgive an occasional dead metaphor)

Thank you again for your mind-boggling support and friendship while I was in and out and since I've been writing Tuesday's Question.

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate. All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0

Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented. Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog.

Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer.

You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

Before, I give my answer here's a quick note of gratitude to my regular readers:

It’s amazing how much you can learn about a person by asking them questions, and really listening to their answers. (as opposed to thinking about what you’re going to have for dinner.)

Because when people choose to tell you about their childhood experiences, backgrounds, siblings, birth order, parents, teachers, friends, children, etc...They are sharing a combination of the ingredients that have helped shape their lives and form their personalities. And when they explain how they managed to find joy in their blessings, bounce back from their struggles, and endure their sorrows, they are sharing with you the foundation of their character. There are times when I’m reading your answers when I am overwhelmed by how genuine and honest all of you are.

Today's Tuesday's Question asks, What is your Favorite Memory From A Simple Moment? and many of you have given me many favorite moments, many times.
Thank you~

My favorite memory from a simple moment is at the end of this story. I hope the story it's not too long, but if it is, just read to the bottom for the example of my simple moment. By the way, this is one of my first posts on A Nice Place In The Sun, and it was chosen as The Rising Blogger's post of the day. I was so proud~

It was titled, What Do You Remember About Your Favorite Grown-up?

When you were a child who was your favorite grown-up? My favorite grown-up was my maternal grandmother. Yesterday, I went to her grave site and recalled two of my favorite memories of her. I have many memories of fun grown-ups, although for some reason she's the one who sticks in my mind the most often. My other grandparents were great too, of course, but we lived down the street from her in a new neighborhood branched off from an older street or lane, called Moss Side Lane. The name Moss Side came from the moss that hung from the oak trees that shadowed the street.
With the exception of my parents, this grandmother had the most influence in my life. She taught me to wish upon a star, to garden, curtsy, talk to people, read…

We called her Nana, and she said things like, "DAT Burn it!" and "A stitch in time saves nine." She had a garden in a huge beautiful yard which she embraced with passion. Determined to enlighten us on the basics of gardening and yard work, she would bribe us for the opportunity to put us to work. The funny thing is, my brothers and I thought our work was actually worth the gratuity. In order to teach us something, she endured the arguments, temper tantrums, and excuses with the grace of a saint. However, this was a tolerance reserved only for her grandchildren. She wasn’t a tolerant woman or a saint, she was just a grandmother. Always on the side of her children and grand children, right or wrong, in addition to having a lesson to teach...

On one of our gardening opportunities, I was working my heart out when (I was singing to myself and playing with a rake) she called out to me, "Ann, come see." When I reached her, I saw she found a baby rabbit lying limp on the ground. The soil, recently tilled, had disturbed a nearby rabbit hole. Evidently, a baby rabbit ran out of his home, and the tractor ran him over. The little baby was in bad shape. Nana yelled across the rows of vegetables, "Honey, will you come help me with this?"

I can see that baby rabbit in my mind's eye as clear as if it were yesterday.
Then she said, "Go get the hoe! We are going to have to put it out of its misery"

It took me a moment to realize she didn't mean WE were going to have to put the rabbit out of its misery, she meant ME! It was clear there was no "we" to striking that rabbit to death with a garden hoe! There was only a "me" to do it! She handed me the rake, and looked at me as if to say how hard it was for her to teach life's cruelest lessons.

"Go ahead, it is the best thing to do for the rabbit, honey, we cannot let it suffer."

"Nana," I exclaimed, "I ‘m not going to chop it's head off, I'm sorry, but I can't.”

Although this protest held the promise of making her angry, instead she was childlike and warm in her response, "Do you think your mother can bring it back to life?" (My mother had the skills and talent required of a veterinarian.)

Before she changed her mind, I went and got a box to put in it, and brought the little rabbit home for my mother to doctor. She did her best to save him by using an eyedropper for nourishment and water, but he died.

Our First Blogger Answer is here! Read after story~

I brought the rabbit back and we buried him near the garden. That's when she told me the story of his relatives, and where they all lived under the ground. Later that evening, we sat on her back porch steps and she taught me how to wish upon a star. I remember the inflections in her voice moving in time with the crickets, her black hair and lightning bugs dancing around in the yard. She had the best rhyme: “Wishes come true when you wish on a star/Since the man in the moon knows where you are/No matter how near no matter how far/He sees you and me and knows where we are.”

“Nana,” I asked. “Yes honey?" is what she said as she pulled me close.

“Where is the man in the moon?”

“Right there honey! Look!“

I smelled her hair as she drew me in her arms tight and laid her head against mine...I could feel her heart beating, then she pointed to the sky and said, “Look baby, right there!”

I wish I could ask her where she is now and catch up on the questions I have, or have had, or questions I don’t remember.

What is your favorite memory from a simple moment?

The first blogger to answer was Sandee from Comedy Plus, it's a well written and touching memory of moments shared with her mother. Thank you Sandee

One thing that I think of often is walking the mall with my Mother. It's something she enjoyed and I loved her so much that I would always go with her if I could. I hate to shop and she knew that.

We wouldn't necessarily shop, but just walk and talk. This has been a most fond memory.

Mom has been gone coming up on 19 years and if I've thought about anything related to her more that our mall walking it would be our daily phone calls to each other.

For years I would cry while at the mall upon seeing a mother and daughter walking along talking about whatever mothers and daughters talk about. I've since quit crying and now it's a fond memory of very special mother and daughter times that I'm so glad we shared.

On a recent trip to the mall with my husband and granddaughters, I mentioned how I always think about mom while walking the mall. It seems like yesterday sometimes and other times it seems so long ago. A simple thing that means so very much to me and always will.

Glad you're back. Love you Annie. Big hug. :)

January 13, 2009 12:26 PM
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Grace from Broadway Matron was the next blogger to answer. She wrote a comforting memory of watching a rain storm. Thanks Grace~

I have thought and thought and I don't have one. I must admit it took me a while to understand the question but Sandee's story kinda made it clear.

Perhaps lying on my bed with the lights out watching a rain storm with the leaves pasting themselves to the window panes and the shadows of the tree branches dancing madly in the wind? ....

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The next answer is from my dear friend Dawn at Twisted Sister who I've had the good fortune to know for some time, but I never knew that she was a good friend of Jack Frosts.

I guess you just never know...

Here's her touching story...

I'm so glad to see Tuesday's Question! I loved your story.
I guess the one thing that always stayed with me took place when I was about 7 years old. My mother woke me up earlier than usual for school and brought me to my bedroom window.

"Look" she said, "Jack Frost was here last night and left a beautiful painting on the window just for you."

I was spellbound at the tiny snow flake shapes... and I truly believed that Jack Frost had painted them!

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The next answer is from my good Ettarose at Sanity On Edge

Annie, I will not try to make this a maudlin story. I wish I had had the memories of a Mom that you all have. I am very simply, moved by something I can only feel though all of your words. A simple moment that first came to mind is when I was at my D's ultra sound and I will never forget the words of the Doctor when he said it was a girl.I had a moment of pure joy when I thought of a conversation we had several months before when a question of whether to terminate or not came up.That little girl is my whole world as I have custody of her. She will always be to me something that might not have been and the world and myself would have been a sadder without her. I hope this answer was all right and not sad. I really think very much of you and admire your laughter and your strength and the love you have from your children.

January 14, 2009 8:07 AM

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And the last comment, but certainly not least, came from The Muse at A Diva's Hammer...Wielded By The Muse

sometimes long post are well worth it..and this one!

I will have to return for more Tuesday's question! and not be late the next time!

January 14, 2009 4:12 PM
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Well...it looks like that's it! Thanks for participating and reading and don't forget to visit the blogger's blogs who commented, because remember, chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog.

Plus, even though Tuesday's passed us by, feel free to answer Tuesday's Question anytime, and if it's still on the main page (not in archives) look for your comment to become a part of the post with a link back to your blog.

Because we want to read about your special moment or moments, so come on, Describe Your Favorite Simple Moment?

If not, we'll see you next Tuesday for another Tuesday's Question.

Fun Between Posts

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 04:29:00 +0000

Here is a clip of Gene Kelly in the 1952 film classic Singing In The Rain.

Boy, Gene Kelly could dance- watching him glide, swing, sing, dance, and splash his way through water puddles without missing a step is truly phenomenal.

I thought it would be something fun as well as mesmerizing to watch until I published a new post in the morning.

I hope you enjoy it. :)

Until then, love,

Annie

My First Music Monday : Someone To Watch Over Me

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 22:35:00 +0000

The Santa Claus Candle- Humor Bloggers Carnival

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 18:08:00 +0000

When I was a child I wondered why Santa Claus was better looking in some photographs and paintings.

For instance, my grandmother hung a picture of a good-looking Santa with silver curly hair on her fireplace mantel each year – but my second grade teacher had a picture of the same man with straight white hair and glasses. I thought my grandmother’s Santa was more attractive, even if his eyes were too small.

I never asked anyone about my Santa Claus observation, particularly grown-ups; because I thought it would be impolite to question the frequent changes in Santa’s appearance. Moreover, the frequent changes in Santa’s appearance had “grown-up secret” written all over it, and I knew I should stay away from grown-up secrets.

Anyhow, I don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’m a grown-up now, and I know why Santa is better looking sometimes. In any event, I haven’t thought about my Santa observation in years (a lie) until this post or essay on What was the funniest or worst present you ever received for Christmas?( For the Humor Bloggers Christmas Carnival.)

At first, I wasn’t sure what the funniest or worst gift I ever received was, because the worst, funniest, and possibly the best present I ever received for Christmas happened to be the same gift; a candle with a bad looking Santa painted on the front.- it was a gift wrapped with bad intentions -- a gag gift.

This candle had one of those Santa's that looked like an elf painted on the front. His hair was tucked behind his ears and his facial features were piled in the middle of his face, so for a moment, -especially because you could see his ears- I wasn’t sure if the candle was supposed to be Santa Claus. I mean... it wasn’t because he had ears, obviously he did, everyone has ears, but you usually do not see Santa’s ears.

Moreover, I think toy and candle designers should be careful. For instance, whoever made this Santa Claus candle ran the wick through the top of his hat. The candle maker must have been thinking about what he was going to have for dinner that evening, because it is hard for me to believe that he would reduce Santa Claus to a blob of red and green candle wax –that is a position more appropriate for the “Wicked Witch of the West.”

Hence, the thought of Santa melting away on the fireplace mantel helped to form my first impression of the gift. That, and the fact that this Santa didn’t look like the real Santa Claus. (I’m not shallow. I would have liked the Santa candle regardless of his looks; he just didn't look like Santa Claus -- Santa is attractive.) However, I will say he was an original.

The Christmas Candle was a present from an employee in the department I managed at a Department store. We drew names for gifts and out of all the managers’ names she could have drawn, she drew mine, which under ordinary circumstances wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but she picked my name two short weeks after our relationship started down a rocky road.

Our employee/manager relationship took a turn for the worst after a hysterical customer found the sales girl asleep behind the cash register. When the customer saw my industrious employee asleep on the floor, she assumed she had had a heart attack, and so did I, until I woke her up. She told me that she was tired from partying the night before, or, she said, she could be pregnant -- she wasn’t sure which.

Consequently, she wasn’t too happy with me for writing her a warning, especially since she was just tired or pregnant, and she had never met anyone as insensitive as me in all of her fifteen years of life. And she may have been right about me, because three weeks after this incident I treated her unfairly again when I caught her stashing books and records in another department for her boyfriend to pick up and carry out of the store. I don’t think she was too happy with me for having security meet him on his way out, because it ruined their Christmas party plans.

Although, she still had a job because our security cameras were stocking up on evidence, therefore I think she should have considered giving me one of the diamond necklaces she lifted from the jewelry department for keeping her on, the little brat . I mean, for all she knew, if he hadn’t been for me she would have been sharing her holiday with a new “girlfriend” in a ten by ten-cell downtown. Instead, due to my compassion, she was getting drunk with us at the Christmas party. But some people are never grateful.

Hence, I wasn't surprised when I opened my gift from her and saw that it was a candle with a painting of a bad looking Santa Claus, I knew she purposely found the worst gift she could stuff in her purse before the security officer at Walgreen’s could catch her bolting across the parking lot, the ungrateful little Christmas-brat thief. Anyway, this is where the plot twists in this post, because the unattractive little candle ended up being one of my favorite gifts.

To make a long story short, I brought the candle to my grandmothers for Christmas one year and somehow she misunderstood it to be her gift. I think it was because I forgot to sign my name on my real gift for her and she received so many gifts from other family members it didn’t occur to her. I only brought the candle as a token.

In any event, she pretended to love it as other family members were shoving presents in her lap. I tried to tell her, but she just put her hand on my face and said, “I love your gift honey, and I’m happy you remember that it’s the thought that counts.”

It was frustrating, but funny, but not as funny as what happened the following year: my grandmother wrapped a twenty-dollar bill around the candle and gave it back to me -- yep: the squashed faced Santa candle. I don’t know if she remembered that I gave it to her the year before or not, but we continued giving it back and forth for years, and no one in my family ever noticed.

Therefore, without knowing it, my little-Christmas-brat thief employee gave me one of the best and funniest Christmas gifts I ever received from my grandmother and she wrapped it with love.

Merry Christmas~

Who Was/Is The Most Influential Person In Your Life?

annclemmons@hotmail.com ("Annie") — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 18:34:00 +0000

Who has had the most influence on the person you are today? Welcome to this weeks Tuesday Question. I thought this question would be a nice Thanksgiving Week question for my fellow Americans and a thoughtful “Who do I need to thank in the world?” question for the rest of you.

Because we all have someone we can thank for the impression they made on our character, intentional or not. Moreover, some of us have had the blessing of more than a few people who helped shape us into the people we are today. Who was this person for you?

I answered this question under a different title when I first started blogging- I was so excited because the post won The Rising Blogger Award.

A few of Tuesday's Questions loyal participants also won The Rising Blogger Award in the fall of 2007. Therefore, I took it upon myself to post a link to their posts as well... here's the link to Sandee from Comedy Plus' post on The Rising Blogger as well as Comedy Plus.

I also found Dawn from Twisted Sister's winning post and the queen of dungeons and peace, Mimi from Mimi Writes who was also selected that fall. I was in good company that year.

If you haven't had a chance to read or visit The Rising Blogger be sure and stop by when you can- it's an original-

Alright...I'll move on...

If this is the first you've read or heard of Tuesday's Question, please note that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate. All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0

Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented. Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog.

Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer.

You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

My first comment to this question was so touching I decided to post it before "Read More"

It's from Sandee at Comedy Plus. Thank you Sandee~

There have been so many, but hands down it has to be my mother. She passed away in the early 90s at the too young age of 60, but she has always been an inspiration to me.

When I was little she was my comfort. No matter what happened I could always go to mom for comfort and guidance.

When I got older she continued in this role. When I got in trouble as a young adult she was the first person I called.

When things happened in my life that were bleak, she was the first person I called.

She was never threatening, critical or judgmental. She loved me unconditionally. When I was a teenager we didn't fight like most mother/daughters do. She was so precious to me.

We talked to each other every single day. Even when I had long work hours I would always make time to call mom. After she died I found myself dialing her number before I realized she would never answer.

As I sit here crying two days before Thanksgiving, I so wish she was here to spend the holidays with as we so took for granted all those years.

Having a great talk over a cup of coffee would be just the greatest. I miss you and love you mom.

I love you too Anne. :)

November 25, 2008 12:41 PM

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Please click on
for more great comments~;))

My next comment is from The Muse at A Diva's Hammer...Wielded By The Muse,who wrote:

My dad...
He was all that aspire to be. :)

November 25, 2008 1:12 PM

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And Grace at Broadway Matron who wrote another well written answer...Thanks Grace~

It is a person who was a huge negative in my life, which forced me, caused me, made me, inspired me, to become a wiser, more compassionate, more loving, more confident human being. I have tried to be everything that this person is not. I have tried to never treat people as this person does. I have tried to live my life exactly opposite to how this person lived theirs.

I neither hate nor pity this person. But I must say I am thankful for what they taught me - how to be a good person, tho that was not their intent nor their example.

November 25, 2008 2:06 PM

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No one could have written this next answer better than Bud from WTIT Tape Radio:The Blog I just loved it~

Thanks Bud~ Here are Buds words:
I have terrific family members who have been there for me in good times and in bad. However, that is not the answer to this question for me.

Hands down the biggest influence has been John Lennon. We were never to meet. From the musical, to cultural to political, no person shaped the person that I am more than John.

Christ you know it ain't easy.
You know hard it can be.
The way things are going
they're gonna crucify me.

And, too sadly, it was to be. He said in 1966 the the Beatles "were more popular than Jesus." They burnt his records. The religious right had a field day. This week The Vatican officially forgave him. Forgave him? Was the Pope ever a Nazi? John Lennon never was.

He was about love, hope and peace.
He will always be a part of me. Imagine.

Thanks for asking, Annie.

November 25, 2008 3:22 PM

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Next up is my friend Paula from Paula's Playground;

Hey there Annie. I was really touched by the replies you got to this question. Especially the ones from Sandee and Grace. Very beautiful stories and I could relate to them as well.

I gave a lot of thought to this, and it is hard to come up with one person for me. I think I am influenced by everyone that I have come into contact in my life. Some have more influence than others of course, and some of it is from negative or positive experiences. But all have changed me in little ways. Mostly good I hope. :-)

I think my kids have shaped who I am the most in a general sense. In recent years I've undergone some really stressful events and changes. One experience with someone you know was so negative that it changed me in ways I did not like. My sister-in-law, and some local friends brought me back to the true me, and I'm better than ever for it. I'm the strongest and happiest I've ever been and so I guess in a way, like Grace above I should thank the negative person for allowing that to happen!

Big hugs dear Annie.

November 25, 2008 4:27 PM

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Then the hilarious Sue from Farvel Cargo
stopped by:

My dad is the strongest man I know. I would like to have half the strength and determination he has. He's the person I think of when I need to find that "get up off your butt, stop feeling sorry for yourself" attitude. I call him Superman, but not to his face.;-)

November 25, 2008 4:33 PM

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The next answer came from my great friend Eric from the Speedcat Hollydale Page

This question is hard for me ... I have been flying by the seat of my pants since birth.

I think I observe and try to assimilate the good qualities of everyone around me.

just can't pick "one" ... so here is a list.

Grampa #1 Strong, caring quiet man that I NEVER saw get angry. A man can be gentle and powerful at the same time. GREAT lesson.

Grampa #2 Friend of everyone, and the nicest guy you could ever meet. In a room full of people, he always held their attention.
He taught me to be OPEN.

Grandma #1 Honest to the max. Some saw her as harsh, I saw her as the most unfake woman that ever lived. She never minced words, and told you when she loved you ... and when she was disappointed. She showed me the power of TRUTH.

Grama #2 Sweet, caring giving and mother Teresa like ... really!
She taught me that being selfless and happy brought joy to others, and thus unto yourself in the same slash of the sword.

Father ... duty, morals, and being a man when you need to be. He taught me to be bold when needed, and lend a hug when needed. I learned to be well rounded from him, and never to take any &^#&#!
(sorry) ... and NOT to swear.

Mother: She taught me that if you walk with the Lord, you are never lost, never alone, and always following your heart. I have seen miracles in my own life, Ann. My mother is an angel in disguise. I have felt love support from her ALWAYS.

This is just a minuscule highlight of the many wonderful people that have helped me set course in my life voyage. I think we are all flawed, and have our own strengths and weaknesses. By emulating and gathering the most positive attributes of those important to us, my belief is that in fact we can become someone that will be described as having amicable qualities.

Who Was/Is The Most Influential Person In My Life?

They all are/were

November 25, 2008 9:26 PM
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