Jul 23, 2015

THE Stump

Gary set the machine to idle when the stump rolled free. “You got yourself a stump.”
Simon ran his gloved hand over the body, along one of the thick roots. “Oh yeah.”
“Happiest I’ve seen you look since I met you. Let’s get her in the bucket.”
Once they were rolling out of the woods, the bucket full of stump, Gary glanced over. “I want you to
let me know what you do with that thing.”
“I’m thinking a sink.”
Gary snorted. “You’re going to make a sink out of a stump?”

The Search


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Today I was searching for Bath Supplies and found this:





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“I’ve got a few things going. Let’s take a walk.”
“Beach or woods?”
“Woods first, then beach. I need to find another stump.”
“Simon! You sold the sink.”
“I’m keeping that one, but Syl got a look at it and says she’s got a client who’ll want one.”
“You’re keeping it.”
“Half-bath downstairs needs a bump.”
“It’ll be fabulous.” She glanced over at the dogs, back at Simon. Her guys, she thought. “Come on,
boys. Let’s go help Simon find a stump.”

The Search

Jul 13, 2015

Ice Cream Choice

Rowan licked her strawberry swirl, enjoying the buzz of pedestrian and street traffic as
she strolled with Gull.
“That’s not really ice cream,” she told him.
“Maple walnut is not only really ice cream, it’s macho ice cream.”
“Maple’s for syrup. It’s like a condiment. It’s like mustard. Would you eat mustard ice cream?”
“I’m open to all flavors, even your girlie strawberry parfait.”

Chasing Fire


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"StrawberryIce". Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:StrawberryIce.jpg#/media/File:StrawberryIce.jpg


There are those things we eat, make, read, and gush over that are just too good to keep to ourselves. Here, we resist the urge to use too many exclamation points and let you in on our latest crushes.
Today: You hear the ice cream truck rounding the corner and it's time to make a choice: Here's what your decision says about you.


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She caught herself, shook her head. “Here you are on what I’m sure is very rare and precious free
time, and I’m full of gloom.”
“You need ice cream,” Gull decided. “What flavor?”
“Oh, no, I—”
“Ice cream,” he repeated, “is guaranteed to cut the gloom. What would you like?”
“You might as well pick something,” Rowan told her. “He’ll just keep at you otherwise.”
“Mint chocolate chip. Thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Chasing Fire

Jul 6, 2015

10 Things Only Those Who Love an Introvert Would Understand

She picked up the wine now, drank. “Your mother did, however, invite me to an impromptu backyard barbecue this Sunday.”
He laughed, lifted his glass in salute. “See? They didn’t take no for an answer.”
She hadn’t considered that, and now saw Brooks was right. “Your mother seemed to ignore my reasonable excuse to decline. I thought it might be better to write her a polite note of regret.”
“Why? She makes great potato salad.”
“I have my gardening and household chores on my schedule for Sunday.”
“Chicken.”
“I’m sure your mother makes very nice chicken, but—”
“No. You’re a chicken.” He made a clucking sound that deepened her frown and stirred her temper.
“There’s no need to be rude.”
“Sometimes honest is rude. Look, there’s no reason to be nervous about hanging out in the backyard and eating potato salad. You’ll have fun.”
“No, I won’t, because I’ll have neglected my schedule. And I don’t know how to behave at a backyard barbecue. I don’t know how to have conversations with all those people I don’t know, or barely know, or how to meet the curiosity that would, I assume, be aimed at me because you and I have been having sex.”
“That’s a lot of don’t knows,” Brooks decided, “but I can help you with all of it. I can give you a hand with the gardening and household chores beforehand. You do just fine with conversations, but I’ll stick with you until you’re comfortable. And they may be curious, but they’re disposed to like you because I do, and my mother does. Plus, I’ll make you a promise.”
He paused now, waited until she lifted her gaze to his.
“What promise?”
“You give it an hour, and if you’re not having a good time, I’ll make an excuse. I’ll say I’ve got a call I have to handle, and we’ll go.”
“You’d lie to your family?”
“Yeah, I would. They’d know I’m lying, and understand.”
There, she thought, one of the complications that tangled into social duties and interpersonal relationships. “I think it’s best to avoid all of that and just send a note of regret.”

The Witness


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"White chicken egg square" by Ren West, square crop by uploader -
 http://flickr.com/photos/renwest/436827618. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:White_chicken_egg_square.jpg#/media/File:White_chicken_egg_square.jpg


After nearly 25 years of marriage, I'm still a whole lot more social than my spouse, a personality clash that tends to become more pronounced during the winter holidays -- as well as during the summer BBQ season. Fortunately, we've learned to compromise. 



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Work, she thought, when he left her alone. At least there she knew what she was doing, what she was up against. No turning back, she reminded herself, as she sat at her station. For either of them, from any of it.

And still she felt more confident at the prospect of taking on the Russian Mafia than she did attending a backyard barbecue.

The Witness