%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| {/b} Roddy is a Bulgarian new to the camping life. To immerse himself in the lifestyle he's purchased a trailer and leased a campsite in the same campground in which I enjoy a poor man's cottage. Now, in his third season, he can no longer ignore the siren call of improvements. Not content to sit and notice his neighbour's endeavours to upgrade their sites he too has caught the bug. I understand this compulsion because my hubby once suffered from the same malady. It's a nagging need to build, to expand, to increase the ease, the relaxation of camping. Some may describe it as a competition, an urge to impress. I simply referred to it as deck envy. Men seem to be drawn to a wooden platform that elevates them above the ground. It's also an excuse to fiddle with power tools and shape raw lumber to their exacting design. It may well be 'the I can create something spectacular and be the envy of my peers' syndrome. Behold what I have wrought with my own two hands and be amazed by its awesomeness. Yep, Roddy coveted a deck. Okay, okay, English is not Roddy's first language and kudos to him for attempting it. He admits to struggling with pronunciation as would I with Bulgarian. One recent Saturday, he shared a grand announcement. "I'm getting a new dick, a dick from Eddie." Startled, my partner and I sputtered, "Excuse me?" "A dick, Eddie's dick." We knew who Eddie was, the campground owner/concierge. We were adults, but we snickered. Our daughter Carrie giggled. Roddy grinned and assumed we were celebrating his news. "Um, it's deck, Roddy." He nodded and replied, "That's what I said, a dick." As if this didn't amuse us enough, Roddy then added, "I'm getting Eddie's shit, too." Rather gross and obscene images raced through our brains as we lost it. Yes, yes, of course Roddy meant a shed. This is the same man and fellow trucker who once informed people that he slept with my husband. "I sleep beside Paul." He knew what he meant. In reality, the two men slept in their own bunks in their own rigs parked side by side. Roddy did use the word beside correctly. The context lacked clarification. We checked out Roddy's campsite a few days later and phoned him with this news. "Your new dick has been delivered, but it's broken. Your dick is in four pieces." I'll skip watching the future re-assembly of this deck. Too much temptation to poke fun. |
| June is the month of my birth and as such it's always held a special place in my heart. One year, okay, I must confess forty years ago, my son joined me as a June baby. I'm certain he's forever grateful that I did not hamper him with the moniker of June, but it's the least I could do for someone who is also a fellow Gemini. We both are eternally elated not to be known as 'the Junes.' I don't however believe either one of us realized the many unique holidays that transpire this special month. Thanks to Google, I can now declare that I am officially enlightened. As a cookie connoisseur, Chris appreciates a day set aside to celebrate the peanut butter variety, a personal favourite. This auspicious day also coincides with National Flip Flop Day. I myself am rather fond of this footwear and I choose to set forth in them each and every day until the inevitable snow arrives. June 12th marked both of these occasions. This is brilliant really because if perchance one were to over-indulge in those p.b. cookies, flip flops could still be forced over fattened feet. On the first of this month, some people perhaps the Evel Knievels of the world, celebrated Dare Day and Flip A Coin Day. Is this a common practice for daredevils? On the toss of this quarter, I dare you to risk life and limb. The first has always been my birthday and the most I do is dare to age and celebrate being another year older. June third is World Bicycle Day and this reminds me of a long-standing bet my son and I share. Well, technically it could be construed as a dare. He has known me as the klutzy, accident-prone parent and he has never ever witnessed me riding a bike. Well, he believes I do not know how to propel a bicycle and hence our bet. My glorious vindication has been delayed by a series of knee surgeries, but I shall amaze him one day. It's a proven fact, isn't it? Why would 'everyone' say it's like riding a bike if it wasn't unforgettable? I think I have muscle memory... I confess that I did not properly embrace June eighteenth and recognize International Panic Day and National Splurge Day. Just how does one celebrate panic? Should I have dialled 9-1-1? Should I have run screaming through the streets? I have experienced panic, but not on this particular, specific date. I comprehend a splurge. It's a treat for just because days. I can rationalize any purchase as being a splurge meant to make me feel better. I usually avoid credit card debt, but hey, too much of that could cause panic. Now, June nineteenth is my kind of intriguing celebration. It is the day to commemorate kissing, road trips AND sauntering, as if. All three are more than doable and possible and memorable. Who doesn't appreciate a great saunter especially one that entails smooching. Personally, my gait is most often a stumble, but I can rustle up a walk with an attitude of nonchalance. For this road trip, I'd forgo a vehicle and hoof it. You never know. The strangers I meet might be up for a heartfelt kiss. I can travel without an agenda or a map. This could be a second day of splurging, too. There's no need to panic though. If my kiss is refused, I shall just saunter on my merry way. The next day is meant for those who raise their voices, you know outdoor voices, and those who prefer to throw their objects around. Yep, June twentieth is National Hollerin' Day and World Juggler's Day. Yesterday might have provoked a wee bit of hollerin'. As a mother of three, I know all about juggling. There never could be time for finesse or grace. I managed several figurative balls up in the air and I defaulted to a fair bit of yelling, too. Hollerin' is a coping mechanism, a warning, a venting of frustration, and more. Now, if I caught my three juggling, oh say knives, there'd have been loud, loud hollerin'! Huh, June twenty-seventh is National Onion Day and Sunglasses Day. I subscribe to both. I do eat onions, but I never peel and chop them while wearing my sunglasses. This poor vegetable is often maligned. I deserves recognition and understanding. How should I celebrate my faithful sunglasses? Perhaps I will spoil them with a long overdue polishing. If it's not squintingly sunny that day, I could assign them a day from duty. I suppose I could also try to place them in their protective case more, too. All of these spectacular days bring me to June twenty-ninth, Camera Day, Hug Holiday, and International Mud Day. Four summers ago, my family unwittingly celebrated these days, all three of them at a Mudder's Mud Run. I acted as the 'mamarazzi' snapping a plethora of photos as my two daughters and my daughter-in-law competed in an obstacle course marathon. They rolled and stumbled through lots of mud and they hugged each other in victory. I can appreciate a special day simply set aside for hugging. There's nothing quite as satisfying or loving. My cell phone camera is always with me ready to capture any and all moments. Happy June! It's a month not to be missed. |
"The Bard's Hall Contest"  Bard's Hall #1 Cough, cough. Hack. Gasp. Sniff. Blink, blink. June is National Camping Month and that great Canadian tradition, the roaring campfire , is once again perfuming the air and illuminating the night sky. Flames dance and glow. Aromatic wood snaps and crackles. Shadows loom and lengthen. And the smoke plumes and billows to envelop all in its presence. Campfires have evolved. Everyone and their mother owns a cell phone to grasp, tote, and fiddle with. Snaps of the magnificent campfire are saved and shared. With the advent of instant data mining there are no more confused campers moping about. With a simple swipe anyone may and does consult the all-knowing, definitive GOOGLE. Those niggling mysteries that irk only when seated âround a fire with like-minded individuals are no longer bothersome. GOOGLE has revitalized campfire conversations. Are you perhaps struggling with the lyrics to a song locked in the murky recesses of your memory? Do you know for certain that it should be sung as âdo wop do wopâ and not âdo wop wop?â Is there need of clarification? Are tempers flaring? Has someone dared to ask what a âdo wopâ is? Sure, we all swear by our version, but GOOGLE will set us straight. Just simply type in the lyrics, or the song title as you know them. Voila, GOOGLE to the rescue. Are you stumped by the colour and the make/model of a particular vehicle in an action scene? Was a Jeep driven off a cliff, or was it a Journey? Does one of the nearby fire-sitters insist it had to be a Ford Bronco? Do you find yourself needing to explain a DeLorean to the clueless person next to you? What was the Bat mobile really made from? Look no further, GOOGLE has your answers. Alas, are you arguing / disagreeing re a characterâs name? Is there some question of the spelling? Is Montoya, or Buttercup even a legitimate name? Is it Jane with a ây?â Do not worry a moment longer than necessary. GOOGLE will know and share with you. Should this come up at the glowing campfire GOOGLE has your back. Were you born on a Monday, or a Tuesday? Did something momentous occur that day other than your birth? Learn once and for all the difference between millennial, baby boomer, zoomer, and whatever. Consult GOOGLE if only for clarification and a clearing of the discombobulating atmosphere. What is one supposed to mutter / chant when the camp smoke envelops you blocking life-affirming oxygen and blurring / tearing your vision? Is it â white rabbit, white rabbit?â Could it possibly be âwhite bunny, white bunny?â What about âgrey rabbit, grey rabbit?â Trust me. GOOGLE will lead you down a rabbit hole and youâll discover âwhite rabbitâ has been an invocation of luck for years. But is it not considered unlucky to be a smoke magnet? Hold on. What is the optimal arrangement of firewood to create an efficiently burning campfire? Log cabin? Teepee? Does GOOGLE have an opinion? Why of course it does. GOOGLE offers step-by-step instructions and videos. STEP 1: Choose a safe spot. Wise words GOOGLE. STEP 2: Create a Tinder bed. Um, GOOGLE, isnât Tinder a dating forum? Should you be recommending a bed? Okay, this site encourages sparks and sparks are a good thing, a necessary thing for a fire, but⊠STEP 3: Add the teepee Kindling to top of tinder. So, itâs back to the bed again⊠Kindling is the small sticks, right? Weâre still talking about a fire, right? Weâre attempting to kindle a wood fire flame, arenât we? This is all about the heat. Gotcha. STEP 4:Build fire. Thatâs it? Construction? No tools? STEP 5: Celebrate. Oh⊠party, victory dance, cheering? Let there be flames! Wait, wait, true to its open, giving nature, GOOGLE has introduced me to an alternate fire-lighting solution. Whoa! Is this for real? Duh, it must be, it is Google after all. Making A Fire With Ice⊠Huh?! Mind blown! Use clear ice to fashion a lens. Ah, I get it. Divert the sunâs rays to the tinder? A different method than rubbing two sticks together⊠Hmmm, Iâm going to try this method, someday. I confess I have forgotten to pack matches in the past and I do not smoke so, I do not own a lighter. Iâm just wondering how I prevent the ice from melting in my pocket. Yep, GOOGLE understands camp fires. It can rustle up a variety of SMOREâS recipes. Chocolate isnât the only sweetener any more. New Age smoreâs feature caramel, cocoanut, cinnamon butter, candied bacon, berries, peanut butter, chocolate-covered potato chips and more. Okay, Iâm always up for choking down one of these delectable treats as I choke on the stubborn campfire smoke. If Iâm going to be coated in soot I might as well digest some, too. Thereâs something else that clings to fire attendees besides the unmistakable aroma of wood smoke. Many devotees douse themselves with an insect repellent made from DEET âcause good olâ GOOGLE recommends it. According to the sage GOOGLE, DEET disguises the scent biting insects require to hunt us down. What? Mosquitos and blackflies cannot smell that s**t? Really? Another online solution to deter bugs is this. Rub garlic on your skin. Isnât that a baste, a flavour enhancer? Donât feast upon my blood I am protected by the mystical properties of garlic. Is this not a vampire repellent? Correct me if I am wrong, but donât we like food wood-smoked and garlick-y? Wonât I smell appealing / appetizing? GOOGLE has informed me that I am doomed to be a walking smorgasbord. According to âstudiesâ Type O blood is especially irresistible. Mosquitos and blackflies consider me to be self-basting. Here is another GOOGLE bug deterrent that I have personally tried. Slather Vickâs VapoRub on exposed skin. âThe smell of the menthol in it will repel the insects away.â Er, how far exactly is âaway?â A centimetre? A wee bit? Closer? This desperate bug-repellent method does not repel anything but tearing, gasping people. I will admit it clears the sinuses plugged by the campfire smoke though. Yep, June is a perfect month to begin enjoying the great outdoors and all its wonders. Just remember to consult GOOGLE when you cannot resist the urge to sing âSmoke Gets In Your Eyes.â Chances are someone sitting âround your campfire will object to the lyrics you belt out. Campfire season is a short one, so why mar it with unnecessary disagreements. ( This I NOT a paid endorsement of GOOGLE. I merely wish for everyone to enjoy campfire companionship.)   |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Happy June! May was so fun!
