All I really want…

I was three years old when Spike Jones released this recording and it was one of just a few 78 rpm records that were played in my home during each Christmas season.  Back then, holiday music that was geared towards children didn’t have Grandma getting trashed by a demonic reindeer; songs were very few but still special in other ways or, like this one, just plain silly.  For me, hearing this music represented a time of peace in my home. Christmas seemed to put a protective cloak around a child who lived with hurt during the rest of the year.  Christmas made me feel safe.

My gift requests were simple, as I remember.  Always a doll, usually a Madame Alexander who was absolute perfection in the world of toys for girls.  I wasn’t allowed to play with any of them, each one sat on a shelf in my room and looked down, waiting for my daily admiration.   

One year, I was presented with Tiny Tears, a chubby rubber baby doll that cried.  She came with a bottle for feedings and when her stomach was pressed, tears rolled from her eyes.  I so over hydrated that doll with water that her little rubber butt soon rotted and my mother threw her in the trash.  I went searching through our garbage on a rescue mission but failed.  Sadly, I watched from a window as the sanitation truck hauled away the one doll I truly killed with too much love.

Now, many years later, what is it that I really want for Christmas?   Not much in the way of material things, that’s for sure.  I have my two front teeth (and several others) thanks to the creative, and expensive, work from our family Dentist.  He thanks me every day when he fires up his Land Rover. 

Certainly, I wish for a better economy in the year ahead, more cures for the diseases that so many suffer with and for the safe return home of our military who sacrifice so much in protecting our freedoms.

If I were to write a letter to Santa at this very moment, I’d ask him to find and bring me my 66′ GTO.  In that letter, I’d write down the VIN to make his search easier.  And, I’d ask for my Tiny Tears doll too.  Rotted rubber butt and all.

Hey, you never know!

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Take a line from a song you love and turn it into the title of your next blog post. Let the content follow.

Okay…this wasn’t about a song I particularly love, just some silly music from my childhood days.  And, right now, with all that is going on in our world, we NEED a little silly…right this very minute!

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Paperwork

He did it to me two years ago, right before the holidays.  In some ways, I did it to myself through my usual procrastination; A.D.D rules my middle-age world.

I’d just rather blame it on him.

Corporate tax returns are due soon.  Here with me are piles of paperwork to put together and develop a summarized report for our business.  I do it every year and our relative (as in family member) accountant handles the final returns.

He always puts in an Extension To File but presses me to have everything done before he leaves for Florida with her (won’t elaborate on the her subject, have done so in other posts so read there, if you’re interested).  Two years ago, I stressed over getting paperwork done by Christmas and he never took it until weeks after; last year, I again struggled to have everything in order and he left town, forgetting to file the returns before departing.

I think that I have every right to be…pretty damn pissed!

Mind you, this man was a top level government employee until his retirement.  From where I sarcastically sit,  people need to stop blaming George W. Bush for everything and start looking elsewhere.  Or maybe,  having a family member handling business affairs isn’t always a great idea.

Whichever the case might be, here I sit with piles of files on my desk (love when my words rhyme) and knots in my stomach as I look over our past fiscal year of business and cringe.   I try to keep positive in that our company is still plugging-along, not at the speed of several years ago, but…we’re still here and I see occasional glimmers of economic hope.  Hopefully, next year’s paperwork will reflect that long-awaited improvement for everyone.

And, hopefully, he doesn’t forget to take it…again!


Flicker of Inspiration #27: Here With Me (Flash Fiction!)

Your prompt is “Here With Me” and you MUST begin immediately! Don’t care how it goes – pick one thing that you can see at this moment, in the room with you, and write something down somewhere.

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Grumbles in the dark…

They have been making their collective and rotten little presences known for months now, in one form or another.  Muffled, nasty grumbles, muttering in the darkness, that keep calling my name.

I’ve been avoiding that place like the plague and I can sense the growing mass lurking within the enclosure.   It terrifies me and, as the weeks keep passing,  it’s my fault for letting them steal my power and hold me hostage.

Daylight gives me a false sense of security but when darkness falls, the creaking and gnashing  sounds escalate as if to taunt me when I hurry past that hidden noise.  It reaches out in an attempt to grab me.  I try not to go near there.

Why did I ever allow this to get so out of hand and lose all control?  It frightens me to no end and keeps me awake at night because I can hear them grumbling down my long dark hall.

It has to stop!  I just cannot live with this living, growing nightmare any longer and allow it to consume my life.




I’m going in……wish me luck.






Linkup and Flicker of Inspiration Prompts – #21: The Indescribable Horror and #22: The Living Nightmare

The guidelines were as follows but… I managed to twist both into one response.  I know, I know…my ADD made me do it.  Don’t judge me or my kitchen junk drawer, we both have issues.

#21: The Indescribable Horror…

Halloween is closer than ever! At least, the closest it’s been yet this year. The prompt this week was a bit of a challenge; I wanted you to describe something indirectly. Nothing like “the dog was ugly,” for instance; saying “she recoiled in horror at the sight of it” is fine because it’s not describing the object itself. Certain eldritch abominations can only be described indirectly because direct description would drive us insane, so you can see that developing this skill can come in handy.

#22: The Living Nightmare….

You’ve had nightmares; we all have. Everyone has them. This week, I want you to write it down.
I don’t necessarily mean write down the narrative description of your nightmare; I had a nightmare once where Tina Turner chased me with a vacuum, but I don’t think it would make an interesting story as such; also the odd flow of events in dreams doesn’t generally translate well to normal prose.
Take your nightmare, or just something that scares you personally, and write a story based on it. If you’re scared of spiders, scare me with spiders. Share your fears and nightmares, give them to your readers. That is your goal this week.




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