Life is returning to normal after two funerals and L’s return to the mountains for business, just in time for this year’s final Writer’s Challenge from Mama Kat. This weeks topics include:

1.) Your pet wants to guest post on your blog.
(inspired by Matthew at Child’s Play x2)

2.) You wake up one day with an unusual super power that seems pretty worthless—until you are caught in a situation that requires that specific “talent.”
(inspired by Writer’s Digest)

3.) Write about a speech you gave at a wedding.

4.) Write a letter to someone you received poor customer service from.
(inspired by Lynsey from Sassy & Southern)

5.) This time I really MEAN it! It’s time to list your New Year’s resolutions for 2010.
(inspired by Margaret from Nanny Goats In Panties)

 So without further delay, let’s see what comes out!

#1 – (Molly the dog here filling in for my master)

What is the problem you have understanding my requests for chewies? I know you can interpret my look as I gaze adoringly at you, eyes large and irresistable as the sun goes down. I know you know what I want. Especially since you oft times tell me “Not now.” or “Too early.”

I have to tell you that it is never too early for the wonderful taste of a chicken infused rawhide chewie. Have I ever refused one? Heck, even when I haven’t ventured forth from my bed all day, I still eagerly hop and jump at the sound of the magical words “Want a chewie?” It is always time for a chewie. So how can you even attempt to tell me it isn’t? How can you? Huh? Huh? What?

Sorry, I lost my train of thought there. My master just asked me if I wanted a chewie. Now what were we talking about?

#2 – I can remember as I grew into the strength of my power. It seemed so useless. Who really wanted to be blessed with the ability to forget anyone’s name within seconds of hearing it. I might have known you for forty years, but the second anyone asked me your name, all there was was a complete blank. I became an expert at bestowing nicknames just because I couldn’t remember names. Thus my life was filled with stinky and shorty and goofy and … precisely because I could not remember anyone’s name.

But then one foggy night, my worthless super-power came to the fore. It began when Santa came asking for help on his delivery route. I was put in charge of the “naughty, not nice” list. It seemed to be a real mistake by the jolly man in red, but I was prepared to do my best. The way the list worked was simple – if the list holder read your name on the list, they then knew you and your name. If they knew your name, you had been naughty and got a lump of coal or less.

It was clear that Christmas Eve might be a bit different with me in charge of the bad list. Every person I saw was a complete blank as to name. I could have known them all my life, but when I saw them I drew a complete blank, even after reading the list. And unfortunately, Santa used a very poor phraseology to ask if the person was on the bad list: “Do you know this person?”

It led to some odd gifting choices. Even axe murderers on death row got presents. Heck, even dogmatic partisan politicians were gifted. So if you got more and better gifts than you deserved when you opened packages on Christmas morning, it is because I didn’t know your name. So I inadvertently made the day using my super-power. After all, since everyone, be they naughty or nice, got presents form Santa, the main cause of sibling rivalry was eliminated. Billions of parents enjoyed a peaceful day without the constant squables of the kids claiming one another got more or better gifts. And at least one axe murderer vowed to restict his work to Thanksgiving turkeys in the future! (Sorry, partisan politicians are just plain unredeemable.)

#3 – I have never given a speech at a wedding, so this one is going to get a skip.

#4 – Here it is (from this post)

Dear Ms. Salesperson:

I appreciated your cheerful insistence on talking to me today with that “important news” about better online storage strategies, but I did not care for the way you ignored my protestations of “Not interested!” and “Goodbye!” I especially did not care for the fact that you felt compelled to call me back after I pointedly hung up the telephone. It would seem that me telling you that I am not interested should be enough for you to cease and desist. Since it wasn’t and you called to interrupt me yet again, I am taking the time to write you this letter.

Because of your ill-mannered and ill-considered actions, I will never consider the purchase of any product from you or XYZ, Inc. The lack of consideration for purchase will also extend to any of my clients who seek my opinion on the products of XYZ, Inc.

I hope you will share this letter with your supervisor and the president of XYZ, Inc. I have taken the liberty of assisting you in sharing by sending them a copy of this letter for their files under separate cover.

Sincerely,


My Real Name

#5 – I don’t normally do New Year’s Resolutions, but just for you I herewith present my 2010 Resolutions:

• I resolve to worry less and enjoy life more.

• I resolve to treat others with the respect they show me.

• I resolve to talk to Molly the dog more.

• I resolve to stop and smell the roses.

• I resolve to learn as many new things as I can.

• I resolve to conquer a fear – maybe nude skydiving?

• I resolve to become more organized.

This week’s Writer’s Challenge from Mama Kat offers these finger tickling topics:

1.) Summer’s recent post “I’m Sensitive And I Want To Stay That Way” talks about how her sensitivity works for her and against her, but that she embraces herself for the way she is. What is your cross to bear?
(inspired by Summer from Le Musings Of Moi)

2.) What is one of your life mottos?
(inspired by Marcy from The Glamorous Life Association)

3.) How do you deal manage the “death” talk with your kids?
(inspired by Ashley from Ashley’s Closet)

4.) Describe a funny or favorite gift that you’ve gotten or have given.
(inspired by Kat from I Play It By Year)

5.) Is your husband a gamer? Does your child have an obsession with dogs? (ahem) Does your friend talk constantly of her undying love for Edward? Write a poem to the item your loved one is obsessing over.

So off we go to the writing races.

#1 – My cross is that I cannot stand to not know and understand. I am driven to know how things work and why. I read and study voraciously – especially science and math. Thus far you are probably shrugging your shoulders and asking how in the heck that is a cross to bear. Well, the bearing comes from the fact that when you have ingested so much knowledge, you cannot help but answer questions.

When someone rhetorically asks “Why is the sky blue?” you cannot help but answer Raleigh scattering. Which then often leads to the exclamation “I can’t believe you knew that!” But after about the ten thousandth time you take all the fun out of it by answering the question, people are apt to either groan or to stop believing. And then when you prove it to them, it becomes even more intolerable.

But I have learned to live with this cross. Anymore if I give someone the answer and they refuse to believe, I just tell them to look it up. It is enough for me to know. And I can also use my skills for other things, like this:

This is our Trivia Bowl Team holding the trophy after winning the annual contest for the third or forth straight time earlier this year.

Actually, I introduced the picture primarily to introduce some of my fellow afflictees. From left to right, we have:

1) A lawyer, CPA, and high school classmate from 37+ years ago
2) A high school teacher who taught one of the Son’s AP courses
3) Me in all my wondrous glory
4) Another person of many arcane knowledge facets
5) A financial advisor, CPA, and high school classmate from 37+ years ago
6 A surgeon and fellow animal lover

We have been the champions 5 out of the last 6 years. (One year we had too many subs and came in second by *one* question.) This is one way to turn a cross into an asset.

#2 – My life mottos are simple:

“Be the best you can be.”
“If it is worth doing, it is worth doing poorly.”

#3 – We never really had a “death” talk with the Son. It was more the passage through experiences with death as he lost both of his grandfathers. In both cases there was a period of increasing debility from cancer in one case and Alzheimer’s in the other. When my dad died, my mom had a very good idea and took all the grandkids aside and had them chose things to be buried in the coffin with their grandfather. Thus dad had the things the grandkids deemed important to him and their relationship with him placed in the coffin with him. Things like fishing gear and … It seemed to help them accept the finality of his death and make them feel like they had a chance to say their good-byes and participate in the send-off. I think it was very effective for all of the grandkids no matter what their age.

#4 – One of the funniest and more memorable Christmas gifts came from a beloved aunt when I was in college. This particular aunt had a wicked sense of humor and great ability in handcrafts. So that year she hand knitted warmers for “that certain part of the male anatomy” and the associated hangy bits in correct anatomical form and interesting colorations. She then stuffed them with paper so they held their shape and wrapped them up for all the males in the adult gift exchange. The looks on everyone’s face as people pulled their gift from the wrapping and realized what it was made it all worthwhile. I always figured it was fitting. And boy did I have stories to tell when I got back to college after Christmas – especially when I could pull the real thing out of the dresser to silence the scofflaws. {*grin*}

#5 – It’s getting late and I’m giving in to my obsession with the bed.

This week’s Writer’s Challenge from Mama Kat offers these finger tickling topics:

1.) Verse by verse, dissect a favorite song you had in 7th grade.

2.) List 5 must have gifts you are purchasing for a loved one this Christmas.

3.) Open letter to Santa Claus.

4.) Describe how you would celebrate the holidays if it was totally up to you and money was not a factor.

5.) Book review time! What winter read has you snuggled in and turning pages?

So off we go to the writing races.

#1 – I did this before in a different context, but to refresh your memory, one of my favorites from the psychedelic 60’s was In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly. This was my anthem in the late sixties and early seventies. Even today, it is not an uncommon occurrence to find me listening to the 17+ minute original version of the song. But the lyrics? Well … it is with a deep sense of guilt and quasi-shame that I admit to loving a song that runs for 17+ minutes with these lyrics:

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, honey,
don’t you know that I love you?
In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, baby,
don’t you know that I’ll always be true?

Oh, won’t you come with me
and take my hand?

Oh, won’t you come with me
and walk this land?

Please take my hand!

-Repeat-

~solos~

-Repeat-

So there you have it, a song that it is eminently OK to not listen to the lyrics in any detail. It is hard to explain how moving and powerful this song is to me, how evocative of a certain mood and time, and then to have to present those rather pointlessly pitiful lyrics is the ultimate letdown. The only analysis I have of the one complete verse is to love and be true – which is pretty good advice.

#2 – This is a non-starter since we aren’t planning on any gift exchange this year. I suppose I could reply nothing five times in a row. {*grin*}

#3 – My open letter to Santa:

Dear Santa:

Please bring peace and joy and a cure of want to all those you touch in your journey. Any other gift is superfluous.

Thanks,
       Dan

#4 – A trip to somewhere nice and sunny, staying in luxurious surroundings. Golfing daily in the morning and then to the beach or the forest or even just sight seeing and shopping in the afternoon, followed by going out each evening to a new and different place to dine. The best of all worlds and a complete escape from real life. (Hawaii comes to mind, but I am sure there are other destinations that offer similar amenities and beauty.)

#5 – Right now I am re-reading some of the Wodehouse tales featuring Jeeves. I always find them wryly amusing and fun to read. On the detective side of things, I am reading some ‘new to me” books by Elmore Leonard (Tishomingo Blues) and Janet Evanovich (To The Nines). Somewhat less than my normal fare and completely lacking in my beloved Sci-Fi, but I’ve been reading less the last few weeks than is my normal wont.

This week’s Writer’s Challenge from Mama Kat tickled my fancy with the topic:

2.)Describe the most destructive thing your pet has done.
(inspired via Twitter by @alisha41481 from A Day In The Life Of Okie Rednecks)

L and I have had three dogs so far in our married life: Sam, Beau, and Molly. All have been either adopted from animal shelters or given to us. And all have had their foibles and destructive moments.

Sam (short for Samantha) was the first, a pit bull mix we adopted as a very young pup from the city pound in Los Angeles. She was a tiny piteous creature who looked forlornly like she desperately needed us, so we adopted her. As she grew, she was not too destructive until she hit the doggie equivalent of teething. And then …

I came home from work one day to discover that her wooden dog house was gone – literally gone. All that was left was a couple of nails and a few splinters. She had gnawed it all to pieces, leaving nothing behind. We waited anxiously for Sam to get sick and die after consuming the dog house. We also bought a really tough plastic dog house that survived all further attempts at gnawing.

Not long after that, I came home to find all the rose bushes in the back yard were gone, thorns and all, right down to the root. Sam had gnawed/eaten them all. Not one of the finest moments in human-dog relations.

The piece de la resistance – the last act as the teething phase faded – was the attempt to install her own doggy door.  I came home to discover the a hole in the stucco beside the patio door. A certain dog had gnawed through the stucco, through the wire mesh, partway through the 2×4 framing the door, and then gotten distracted by the aluminum frame on the sliding glass door. The tooth marks were distinctive and pointed directly at the culprit – Sam.

That was fortunately the last time that the teething woes were to surface for Sam.

After the passing of Sam, we acquired our next miscreant – Beau (short for King Beauregard III). Beau was a Bassett Hound given to us when he was three. Beau was perhaps the dumbest but most devious dog we have ever owned. Beau was a closet chewer. You could be sitting at the table eating a family meal when a moment of silence would be filled with the distinctive sound of wood being munched. A quick look to the floor would show a Beau lying on the floor happily chewing on the legs of the chair. If you threw Beau off the couch, you could count on catching him calmly chewing on the fabric skirt later in the day. Slippers were never safe. Even shoe racks were an occasional target:

Fortunately, Beau turned into less of a chewer and more of a hoarder in his latter years:

After the passage of Beau, Molly came to live with us via the local Humane Society. Molly is a bit different in the mischief she gets into. Being a Border Collie mix, she is the most intelligent and most visual of all our dogs. She has an impish sense of humor and loves to play. If you have laundry sorted on the floor for washing, she will pick out a piece to come rub on your leg to see if you will play. Have anything that will roll with in her reach, she will get it and try to convince you to play, but if you won’t, she’ll throw and catch it all by herself. She always has the glint of fun and mischief in her eyes:

One like Molly shares with Beau – chewing on the kitchen table chairs. But unlike Beau, Molly is sneakier about it. You can be sitting there and in the sudden silent break you do not hear the distinctive chomping sounds of Beau. Instead you hear the wet sloppy mouthing and dainty nibbling of Molly, often times laying on her back so that the rungs to chew on require minimal work. And if you scold and ask her what she is doing, she just looks back at you as if to say, “I’m not the first to do this, so why the brouhaha?”

In any case, the end result is kitchen chairs with the distinctive doggie seal of approval:

I’ll leave you with that.