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proof of infinite wisdom!

i couldn't agree more!

'when you are done cleaning up the mess on the floor...come find me' says Bradbury

and there with his wisdom...or skeleton...because by god he has one...he states this!

(narrator)- Everyone in the world needs two, three jobs, I said, without hesitation.  One job isn't enough, just as one life isn't enough.  I want to have a dozen of both. 

(Elmo Crumley)- Bull's-eye.  Doctors should dig ditches .  Ditchdiggers ought to run kindergartens one day a week.  Philosophers should wash dishes in a greasy spoon two nights out of ten.  Mathematicians should blow whistles at high school gyms.  Poets should drive trucks for a change of menu and police detectives-  (R.Bradbury Death is...67)

 

 

 

i bet Michelangelo ate chicken skin.....the artist not the ninja turtle!

skin and bones

 

during dinner the other night, i baked a whole chicken...i know exemplary for a mid-week night meal but i had the time.  one of the neighborhood kids was playing with my girls when i called them in to eat dinner.

My kids told me the girl was going to wait outside for them to eat then come back to play.  so being me of course i asked the child if she wanted to have some dinner with us......protocol is usually to tell the child to go home and ask their parents first, but i know for a fact this particular kid eats very late at night and she's not sought after much by her parents....so with my take on their family dynamic i didn't have a problem feeding her and the parents finding out until later.....

but me feeding the wandering children in my neighborhood is not what i'm blogging about here is the issue....

the 6 year old girl said what she had heard from another child while eating....and by the way this kid was starving....but we'll leave it at they eat later in the evening so maybe that was why....

she mentioned another kid's name in the neighborhood and then told us that if the mom eats chicken skin, she'll get fat....

awesome......really.........so my mind exploded......and i had managed to talk with my 10 year old after and my 4 year old didn't seem to be concerned..at all i still have to bring it up to my six year old....

i picture those kids....the ones with the mom 'who will get fat if she eats chicken skin' imagining their mother placing a piece of chicken skin in her mouth...just one piece and instantly turning fat.......who really knows how kids think...but this may be spot on.....

the woman in question is and has always been very petite...but now she is on some high strung exercise regiment......and chicken skin will make her fat apparently......

dear god is this what people are still teaching their kids.........how about moderation.....

eat in moderation...exercise in moderation.....

i won't even mention the other neighbor who gained weight to have stomach surgery or whatever she did to drop pounds...

i don't know if any of this is making much sense.....but if you or anyone you know get in your car to go work out, instead of walking a bit more or being more mindful of what you put into your mouth....well...maybe i'm talking to you or rather about you.......

Think about what you are teaching your daughters about how they interpret their body and appetite....

my husband got the best of the chicken skin, because i do peel it off for the little ones, because

'eeeeewwww, what's that' (salt, pepper and parsley flakes)..my ten year old tried a piece of his and yummo.....i settled for some on the leg.....i usually get the leg now a days....but that's how it goes with 5 of us and 4 of us being picky eaters...

so that sums up the chicken skin story........maybe i'll go have a snack...or take a walk...but i most certainly will not be putting on some weird socks and chiseling myself into Adonis......good luck with that...and by the way you have a lot of fat in your brain....i'm guessing since it's not filled with intelligence! 

mother theresa.....

She makes the sign of the cross as we pass the church.......

and i notice because i am crammed against her in the back seat.....i offer this exclamation aloud....JESUS CHRIST!

when will it end her devout impostor act....

her crimes are seen by her nonexistent god...

her everyday lies regarding her son....her son...my god the epitome of blasphemy itself and she shelters it......

her teeth have long betrayed her and the rot begs for recognition...saying this....lies come from the mouth and the soul is a fiery hell....

i find doubt to be a much surer fit than belief.....she believes in whatever is convenient at the very moment she needs it....she is a fraud

and she knows i know and she holds me in contempt...only her bond is weak and i cannot be restrained...

when the monster she praises devours her.....the plague and suffering wrought on me will be lifted.....

'with bruise marks and dents in the linoleum'

'with bruise marks and dents in the linoleum'

my last hour of freedom is upon me and an explosion of thought is bursting to come alive....

a desire for life as if death itself is approaching...

homemade goods and the good of being home...

chocolate chip cookies are heating while my mind spins.....into other worlds and revelations......

the fastest journey to outer space...because when the school bell rings I must be present.....

I have peddled my wares....like the wise business woman I have become.....secured a teaching job for another day in this week of bliss and will stand on the pavement with treats I have prepared from scratch......the dream life.....or so others will perceive from the gesture.....

when an author gives life to inanimate objects......my life it must be so much more than that...or can I only hope.....he describes the floor as suffering a bruise given by the large woman who sat continuously in a chair......amazing...and nothing short of genius.....as if words are the very gift of life.....reading must become an involuntary act... which is a necessity.......or death will visit you ......and as you lay lifeless on the bruised floor you become nothing....

an aroma now fills the air.....the warmth of the oven....the bruised floor and no one.....no one at all that can compare to the words that surround the day.....

*read Ray Bradbury's Death is a Lonely Business it will surely bring you back to life!

writing is a lonely business

writing is a lonely business

 

 

the hum of the power washer three houses away is my only companion today.....

the dog asleep....unstirred by the sound..

as i sit here and peddle my wares online to strangers.....i am lonely....and unplagued by thought....

so much that the emptiness is sickening....

the blank page awaits...but i have naught to offer..

unless of course Mr. Riordan seeks me to claim the life of one of his characters....i would accept...

muse.....under M in the yellow pages.....if not there.....then where....

how can i feel again...

bitter tasting hand without a pen....

empty and resound the loneliness surrounds.....

but wait the Archaeopteryx sleeps on a cot upstairs and now she has someone who seeks her.....

Ray Bradbury....the only one who seems to care at this moment if i am whole or break into pieces.....each word on the page....guidance....a cure for this day...

Battle of the Books: Ray Bradbury's Death is a Lonely Business vs. J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy

Battle of the Books

If Rowling's, The Causal Vacancy and Bradbury's, Death is a Lonely Business had been jostled about on library cart, resulting in a literary dispute for comfort and some sort of battle ensued as to which book would claim victory and toss the other from the cart causing the defeated to fall under the forgotten shelves, and lie in some crevice in the corner of the vast library, choking to death on the dust and loneliness, because books are as viable as humans, for if they do not engage in touch and admiration, death is the result, I claim that the book that would make the voyage from cart back to its cataloged home would be Bradbury's.  Let me explain.  Perhaps I did not give Rowling's book the attention it deserves, but knowing there wasn't a connection between myself and the words on the page, I abandoned it almost immediately.  It was around page 12 that I no longer cared for it, and not because it lacked magic, but because it lacked literary magic, if you will, so I casually tossed it aside, and picked up Bradbury's book, which I cannot seem to put down, only to write this, for I am so very much inspired as a writer as well as a reader with the text.  Ten pages in and I am planning a funeral for The Vacancy,  I can literally assure you that the vacancy Rowling's book left on my desk has been filled.  How dare I bash her literary genius, for I only have one title, and self-published at that, under my belt to date.  I just feel compelled by such things as this and Bradbury has defeated Rowling in this battle.