"Good night, Mother Dear."

There are some nights when a gal just wants to drift off with her special "Mother Bear" as the last sight before sleep.


Good night, Mother Bear. (Adding...I love you.)

The Scats I Have Smelled

A young friend/daughter was recently lamenting the peculiar dating behaviors she's encountered during her limited years of experience with the male species.  "What," she wondered aloud, "is a girl to do?"


Three words suffice in response... 

DUMP HIS BUTT!!!

However, I also recalled having once before blogged upon the subject of using ye olde feminine intuition to sniff out the bad dogs before they come into the yard. 

I am republishing here for the benefit of young gals everywhere who are still learning to trust and respond to their intuition.

This one's for all the ladies in the house...

Don'tchya love it when your olfactory system kicks into gear and proves what a divinely intuitive person you are?  Like, for example, when you're out somewhere without your spouse, and some very charming fella comes slinking over for a little chit chat.  It's all good.  No harm in a little chit chat. You behave like a perfect lady and he is the perfect gentlemen. At the end of the night it's the "nice to have met you, buona serra" script. The end...right?  Nope!

Reflecting back on this chance encounter as you ride home in your limo, you says you to your own self:

My, what a cute fella, and how good it is to be reassured that there are still gentlemen in the world.

Upon arriving home, you are flattered-but-flummoxed to find that the gentleman has magically acquired your contact information from a friend and used it to send you the most polite of notes.  What a pleasure it was to meet you...and stuff like that there.

Hmmm...you think to yourself.  A pleasure...yes, but I wonder...well...it's probably all fine...maybe...

Later you check it out with your friend.  No need to be suspicious.  A gentleman for sure. A right respectable fella who'll be a nice friend. It's all good.

But each day thereafter, that stray dog aroma begins to waft your way.  Charming little messages appear.  There's flattery and suggestions that one brief encounter was sufficient to determine your spectacular divinity and all around wonderfulness.True enough in theory but...

Hmmm...you think...really?  Seems sorta sudden if you ask me. After all, I have been known to curse like a sailor and fail to shave my legs.  True, I am delightful, but I'm much too complex and far too "raw" to be so very much admired after only a couple of hours.  And what's with such a charming fella being so...charming...? Too charming perhaps.  And now that I think of it...I did say I had a husband waiting for me at home didn't I?  Well, I'll just straighten this all out right now...

So off you go to assure yourself that such sudden admiration is the harmless fancy of a single man in search of divine happiness. Oh the poor slob, you think. What a pity I'm taken, but he's a charming fella.  There'll be some sweet gal for him somewhere.  

And then there it is again...that faint scent of barnyard potpourri...B---S---...doggy doo...something that rises up foul from the rear.

A bit of simple detective work followed by a direct inquiry confirms what you already knew you smelled...Mssr. Charming is  married.  But of course he is terribly unhappy...has been "all but divorced for years," and it is so much worse for him now because he's met you...and you are so special...so unique...so....divine.  <INSERT GAG & BARF HERE>

 

NOT EVEN ORIGINAL!!!

With one last spray of acidic wit, you excuse yourself  from further communication. How he admires your self-control, your kandor, your integrity...Blah, blah, blah......And there it is, that warm, familiar aroma...

Ahhh yes, the only thing left now is to find out if you're smelling bullsh** or chickensh**...You flip a coin...Chicken it is!

You say to Mssr. Charming, perhaps if you are in such distress I could call you an attorney, a priest, a shrink, or a hitman. You must get help and relieve yourself of this anguish.  It's clearly too painful for you to go on another day in this condition.

And with that the chicken clucks a few clucks of thanks for your concern and no doubt begins pecking the ground for fresh worms. You are quite sure that you'll not be stepping in his mess again. And with that you smile knowingly to yourself as you prove once again how ridiculously easy it is to know the critters by their scats.

The end.

Bonding with Paul

Galatians 4:14-16

The Message (MSG)

 ^14-16And don't you remember that even though taking in a sick guest was most troublesome for you, you chose to treat me as well as you would have treated an angel of God—as well as you would have treated Jesus himself if he had visited you? What has happened to the satisfaction you felt at that time? There were some of you then who, if possible, would have given your very eyes to me—that is how deeply you cared! And now have I suddenly become your enemy simply by telling you the truth? I can't believe it.

I read this and want to say, "Paul...Dude...I hear ya! I feel ya!"  Most of the time when I'm hanging out with Paul it's sitting at his feet and taking detailed notes.  Not with this passage.

Maybe it's just the way The Message translates Paul's words here, but his sense of loss--if only an impending loss--is palpable. I get his grief.  Totally! 

Scoot over, Paul.  I'm shovin' in next to ya.  I brought the wine.

Too Many Words

I have to get back to work, but my brain is full of too many words...

things I'd say if given the chance... 

things I should say (but probably won't)

things I should never say (even if asked) 

and things I'm just mulling over...

Even if asked...even if asked...

Robert Frost comes to mind again today.

Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went --
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.

Frosty Thoughts in Mid-August

In Neglect

They leave us so to the way we took,
As two in whom them were proved mistaken,
That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
With michievous, vagrant, seraphic look,
And try if we cannot feel forsaken.

~ Robert Frost

Why Folks Lie & Deceive: A spontaneous, obvious philosophy

Here are the basics:

• Arrogance 
• Convenience/Immediacy 
• Cowardice/Fear 
• Malice 
• Pride
• Selfishness

I'll give an honorable mention to "lack of emotional energy" but really...that's pretty much covered by convenience and fear.

My overall attitude toward lying and deception:

• Unnecessary
• Unfair 
• Sucks!  (Just sayin'...)

The World According to Edna & Dorothy

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Take me or leave me; or, as is the usual order of things, both. ~ Dorothy Parker

Thanks girls!  That just about sums it up from here...