Category Archives: humor blog

Tea for Ten (and tasty shoe leather too)

Kathy, Julie, me, reflective pond

“Anyone celebrating a special occasion?” our tour guide, John, asked.

Kathy, Julie, and I~ along with seven others (people we didn’t know) ~huddled together at the entry to the Japanese Friendship Garden in Phoenix.

After a long silence, one of the ladies in our tour group of ten said, “It’s a good day to be alive.”

“That’s a good reason to celebrate,” Kathy said.

“Every day I wake up and I’m alive, I celebrate,” said the lady, who we later learned goes by the name of Georgia and is 80 years old.

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Just a Moment…I Have a Phone Call

“Put that phone down, Mama. Your food is getting cold. What are you? Twelve-years-old?”

I glanced up from my phone and noticed our server holding a coffee pot and flashing a rosy-cheeked smile. Apparently, she had just called me out on my phone usage while dining in her café.

I gave her one of my taken aback “I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that” looks.

First off, I have never had anyone call me ‘Mama’ other than the person who is supposed to call me Mama and he calls me Mom.

Once our server caught on that she might have offended me, she said, “Oh, I say that all the time to my best friends. I just don’t want your food to get cold.”

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It Seemed Like It Would Be So Easy (another delusional thought)


After a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner with our sister-in-law, her husband and our niece and nephew as well as their family friends, Jerry and I left their home around 7 p.m.

Jerry agreed to stop at Kohl’s (which opened its doors at 6 p.m.) so I could do some early Black Friday shopping. After all, it was on our way home. “I’ll run in and run out,” I told Jerry. Before saying good-bye to our very special and dear sister-in-law Julie, she cautioned, “Kohl’s will be very crowded.”

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Daggers in My Back and Side


As I write this, knives poke me in the side and one twists in my back with sadistic intent. Not just ordinary knives, but daggers actually. I feel them slashing my insides. EEEEEEEEEEEE!! Excuse that outburst but the… EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…pain causes me to screech unexpectedly.

You might be wondering how I can even write this blog with the stabbing pain piercing my body. Well, it isn’t easy. All I can say is, writing takes my mind off my painful circumstance. A coma would also do that, but writing seems preferable.

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The Dreaded Middle Seat & Goggle-Eyes


“Oh, oh! We can’t have this!” said the flight attendant as she stomped down the aisle toward me. Passengers continued to board, but I heard her footsteps above the others. Clippity-thud, clippity-thud, thud, thud. I had just turned on the air adjustment above me and leaned my head back to enjoy my nice, airy aisle seat. Ahh.

The flight attendant leaned over the (not-yet-occupied) seat in front of me.

“I need you to move to 6B,” she said. “Go sit with your husband.”

“He’s my brother,” I said.

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