As my friend, Robbie, pointed out during my 10 day jaunt to Los Angeles, this was one of the very few times in life I could appropriately use the phrase, “Meanwhile, back at the ranch...” without being decried as a complete literary hack.
To reply to concerned and well-meaning friends that have bid me adieu from the Carolinas as I headed back west to California, I am aware of the irony that I sound very much like Mitt Romney who, under attack from the left in regards to those businesses who had robbed pensions and laid off thousands while CEOs escaped with ‘golden parachutes,’ de
So how does it feel to be going back to Hollywood?” That’s what I’ve been gently asked of late, by friends (well, when you live in a town of 2,000, pretty much everyone is your friend) and waitresses, the guys at the feed store and fellow protestors at our local demonstration against Duke Energy.
How I miss my late neighbor during times like these.
It was generally around this time of year, when the peaches had been harvested from the surrounding orchards, that bears would come down from Glassy Mountain to, I suppose, “see what they could see.”
If there’s one man who was appreciative of the story this week about the wealthy American dentist, Walter James Palmer, who, after spending tens of thousands of dollars to lure a cherished, collared and protected lion name Cecil out into the open in order to shoot, stalk, and finally kill and behead the animal, it’s Bill Cosby.
It’s called fomentation,” an old friend of mine I hadn’t seen in ages shared from the driver’s side of his SUV, when I remarked that he hadn’t aged a day in the ten years I’d known him, “I do it every morning and I swear it keeps me feeling great!”
You know that feeling when it’s the end of a long, hot, summer day and you’re sitting around in your underwear (and to the neighbor who dropped by to generously share their garden zukes, yes, I realize you can’t unsee what you saw but you should have called first), opening a cold one, about to yell at House Hunters and suddenly your healthy, you
Our ‘little girl in fur pajamas,’ Bonnie, was distinctly unwell this past week, resulting in a stay at the veterinary clinic and receiving IV fluids to help bring down elevated kidney and liver numbers resulting from a digestive upset.
Have you ever seen and read such vitriol as in the past couple of weeks? Holy cow! I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the truth of a cartoon I saw, showing a recent, current, ‘feed’ of what was trending on Facebook:
‘Flag, flag, flag, cute dog video, flag, gay marriage, flag, flag, gay marriage, cute dog video...’
It has happened so many times that you would think by now, I’d have learned my lesson. However, I seem to willingly become a magnet for becoming jinxed.
But only when I open my mouth.
“Gosh,” I’ll think, turning the key to hear my truck leap to life, “for a beater, this sucker just keeps on running...”
Don’t say it...
