You asked what I've been up to, in one word, writing.
But first,how are you? Did you manage to keep the chickens alive while your daughter took a holiday?
Do coyotes still roam out your way?
My mama, she was raised in Arkansas, spins a tale of standing guard over the chicken pen with a twelve gauge shotgun. Her brothers made light of her and decided she was an alarmist, because 'wild animals are rarely seen in these parts anymore', until she brought down a huge coyote as it slunk near the pen.
She pulled the mangy carcass around the house, dropped it at their feet, looked each brother in the eye, and said, "alarmist huh?"
Now what do you suppose my 'kookie' writers group topic is? It's 'huh?' You're shaking your head and laughing, aren't you? I can hear the,"huh?"
Be my sounding board, as I toss around some possibilities, pretty please?
Drag your mind back to fifth grade, Mr. Dasher's class. Remember Jerry Wilson, black hair, dark skin, burr haircut, smelled of Aqua Velva, and had a knockout smile?
I fell into an aftershave induced coma/daydream. Mr. Dasher noticed I was zoned out and went for my humiliation.
I was starring out the window in a prince charming scenario with Jerry playing the prince, when I heard my name.
"Huh?" I said.
He repeated the question, "Nancy would you eat an old dead chicken?"
"Ooh! no!" seemed the right answer at the time.
Jerry Wilson giggled, Mr. Dasher smirked, and you, with the rest of the class, cackled.
Dasher chortled out the punch line, "Well, you sure couldn't eat a live one."
Once again, the whole room tittered, as
heat rose from my toes to my face.
Horror of horrors, Jerry grabbed my arm and shook me,
"Do 'ya' get it, huh? huh? huh?"
Boy, I got it all right, why did I ever dream about 'him'? Never again!
My other story line evolves from my husbands trip to the audiologist. He wanted to gauge any hearing loss.
On Hubby's return, he shuffled in, a bit disheavled, but appeared unconcerned.
"How did your test go, darling?" I asked.
I walked closer and spoke a bit louder "HOW DID YOUR TEST GO?"
"HUH?" his eyebrows rose.
"Oh, I get it." and smacked his arm.
"You are such a nut!"
"Huh?" he grinned.
There you have it, my idea tank is reading empty. Not much to work with, Huh?
Two days later...
I'm good. Go with the shot gun chicken story, and for the record, I do not, nor have I ever, cackled.
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