When a Hippo hollers!

When a hippo hollers, does anyone listen? I mean really pay attention to what it’s saying. All we hear is, “Rrrrrr! Rrrrr!” like a faulty chainsaw trying to start. Which, with our negative perspective, we immediately assume translates to, “Kill! Kill!”

But what if this massive barge of flesh is actually saying, “Hey friend, I have this here piece of canoe stuck in my gums, can you help a fellow mammal out?”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I live in a pretty rural area, with plenty of wildlife (hippos don’t like snow, so I’m marked ‘safe’ from them). I do, however, enjoy the company of many fur-bearing friends, so I’ve posted a few photos with some captions of what they most certainly are thinking. Enjoy!

 

deerdeer

“Frank! It’s the paparazzi again! I TOLD you to find a different lawn!”

 

peterrabbit

“Everyone, freeze! Pray it doesn’t think we’re made of chocolate!”

 

young-fallow-deer-kitz-fallow-deer-fur-60555.jpeg

“MOM! Come here QUICK! It’s a two legged walking stick! Ewwww! Bring a leaf and squish it pleeeaaasssee!” 

 

cownose

“You smell like ketchup, mustard, onions, lettuce, tomato, kaiser bun,  and . . . oh my gosh!”

 

Pandaeating

“No dummy, we DO NOT eat noodles or know kung-fu!”

A final encore . . .

Lostturkeys

“We’re LOST AGAIN, aren’t we Tom? How many times do I have to tell you to ask for directions!”

A Haircut Too Far!

Okay, so let’s find a large cardboard box to climb into and imagine it’s the DeLorean from Back To The Future. Those of you with artistic tendencies may opt for detailing the exterior to mimic the real thing. That’s fine with me.

Now, we’ll set the dial for the not-so-distant date of yesterday! Twenty-four hours ago, my COVID19 hairstyle resembled a shave brush. Yes, it grows straight up and out.

Enough was enough and on a recent trip to town, I had Tanya pick up hair clippers.

About an hour later, seated on a lawn chair on the back deck, with pedestal mirror in hand, I commenced my first-ever self-propelled haircut. Now, this skull rug is no stranger to the clippers, but they’re usually handled by a professional.

I shrugged off the clipper guides and went bare blade. Who cares in this new reality? It could be two moons before my next shearing.

I dug in deep and soon clumps of hair, with far too much gray, tumble weeded across the deck, entangling any unfortunate insect that crossed its path.

Our youngest daughter came out to observe and uttered the words every father “wants” to hear. “Dad, you look creepy!”

A courageous youngster, she pushed her disgust aside and offered to help, which I took gratefully. She worked the back, but eventually proclaimed it hopeless and suggested Tanya finish the job.

I must say the pruning was most liberating! I swear I’ve developed a sixth sense; I mean, I can feel everything! The last time I was this bald, my behind was wrapped in diapers.

My head is now an organic weather satellite, at one with the jet streams. I’m certain that no butterfly can pass above without my detection.

Proud of the newly acquired ability, I went to peacock my new look to our oldest. If I’d entered her room with my nose cut off, her face would have betrayed less horror.

Humbled, I exited quickly, but not before I heard her whisper these words to her classmates on Zoom. “My Dad just cut his hair and it’s frightening!”

Oh well, hair grows back and I’m saving on shampoo.

In the meantime, I’m grateful to the professional folks at North Shore Construction for gifting me with the perfect shame saver.

baldy

Creepy!

Northshorelid

The remedy!

Six-Word Story

callofnature

John answers the call of nature!

The Lonely Mountain gets a Makeover

 

A seed landed on an ancient, beardless Mountain. Upon seeing the specimen, the mountain scoffed, surely nothing would come of it. Such a puny, insignificant thing could not possible affect a massive, immortal being such as he. His rocky exterior was impenetrable. Over the eons, neither rain nor wind, had been able to topple him.

Creatures such as the mountain goat, the eagle, and the mountain lion had lived and died in his peaks. As agile, mighty, and ferocious they may have been, a mere slip of a boulder had crushed more than a few. Who, or what, was this speck of dirt? What right did it have to habitat his body?

Day after day, the winds blew and Mountain waited for the seed to blow away, yet nothing of the sort occurred. Unknown to its rocky host, the seed had found a small alcove and was protected from the wind. It had also found a small crack in the rock and had begun to take root. Tiny string like roots were, at first, the only things preventing a freefall. Eventually the seed outgrew the alcove and was subject to the brunt of the wind’s fury.

The mountain rejoiced, for it thought surely this was the end, but the little beast hung on. Time passed and the tree grew, in spite of, or because of the storms. Mountain was shocked and impressed, he could feel the roots growing deeper inside of him, splitting rock and gathering nourishment from the slightest source.

One day, when spring arrived, Mountain woke up to see that tree was covered in thousands of beautiful blossoms. Such color had never adorned his drab exterior. This time, he rejoiced for a different reason. This time he was glad his friend had possessed the resilience to not only survive but thrive.

And so, it is with you. In this time of pandemic, economic fallout, and great uncertainty, find an alcove and set down roots in whatever bit of hope and joy you can find. Bloom where you are planted!

 

Review of A Ghost In The Kitchen, Three Ingredients – 2, by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

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aghost2

The Blurb:

A Ghost in the Kitchen, Three Ingredients-2 continues the flapper adventures of Paisley Idelle Peabody, aka Pip. It’s a 1920s “pantser” story and a culinary mystery. This time Pip’s pal Andy (from The Three Things Serial Story) returns. Granny Phanny is there too. She’s still trying to teach Pip to cook. Granny is in a lather because of the supernatural goings-on in her kitchen. There’s also one pos-i-lutely potent poltergeist! New adventures abound as Pip and Andy unravel an old mystery. It’s all spontaneously driven by “ingredients” sent by readers of the blog, Teagan’s Books. Jump into the jalopy and enjoy the ride. There’s no telling where we’ll go, but it will be the cat’s pajamas!

My Thoughts:

I enjoyed this part humorous, part poignant tale of ghostly goings on that began in Granny Phanny’s kitchen, with the introduction of Maestro, the chef poltergeist. Pip and Andy have quite an adventure with all the ghostly characters they meet, and I love the link to food.

If you’re looking for a not-so-scary, but entertaining ghost story, I highly recommend this!

Five stars!

About Teagan:

Teagan

Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene lives in a “high desert” town in the Southwest of the USA.

Teagan had always devoured fantasy novels of every type. Then one day there was no new book readily at hand for reading — so she decided to write one. And she hasn’t stopped writing since.

Her work is colored by her experiences from living in the southern states and the southwest. Teagan most often writes in the fantasy genre, but she also writes cozy mysteries. Whether it’s a 1920s mystery, a steampunk adventure, or urban fantasy, her stories have a strong element of whimsy. There are no extremes in violence, sex, or profanity.

Her blog “Teagan’s Books” contains serial stories written according to “things” from viewers. http://www.teagansbooks.com

Major influences include Agatha Christie, Terry Brooks, David Eddings, Robert Jordan, and Charlaine Harris.

Purchase your copy and connect with Teagan:

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