It was an all-out catfight — one like I'd never seen before, at least not between the two of them. I know them pretty well. They usually get along, or at least stay out of one another's way. But on this day, the claws were definitely out. To be fair, their capacity for sound decision-making was off; both of them were a little tipsy — heck, beyond tipsy. They were higher than kites, or cats, as the case may be.
I used to live a carefree life. I didn't worry about the future or wars or the economy. I drove on sketchy roads up mountains and even climbed those mountains on occasion. I spent too much money on impractical shoes. I ordered my chili extra spicy and wore white after Labor Day. I rode a bike without a helmet and drove a car without a seatbelt. I ate fast food and drank sloe gin. I held snakes, dined on sushi and rode rollercoasters with both hands in the air. And then everything changed. I had kids — four of them to be exact.
"Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold." National Friendship Day was Sunday, but in my opinion, every day should be a day to celebrate friends and the different types of friendships we have in our lives. From best friends all the way to acquaintances, I know I value mine.
He is growing like a weed, but it's a weed, we cultivate, a weed we help grow. We will never pull him up by the roots or attempt to eradicate his existence. He is growing like a weed and we wouldn't have it any other way.
My husband and I recently made a happily anticipated purchase of a new summer water toy. We'd been looking forward to it for a long time, and I was thrilled. I really was. When we went to pick up our vessel the nice salesman asked me a number of times if I was excited. I answered in the affirmative, but after about the third query from him, I realized I wasn't demonstrating my fervor like he expected a normal customer might. So, I told him the truth. "I'm an introverted Scandinavian," I said with as much expressive tone as I could muster.
Summer brings out two vastly diverse species of sports people wielding sticks, and I'm not referring to hockey and lacrosse. I'm talking about fishing poles and golf clubs. While not impossible, it is a rarity to find a golfer who enjoys the rigors of fishing and vice versa — if you happen to do both, good for you. By and large, however fisher-people fish and golfers golf. That is the way the world was created.
They were splashing in the waist-high water of the lake — boisterous and loud. Three boys on either side of about 10 years old, if my estimate was accurate. I sat on the dock, observing from a distance. The sun shone from behind a splattering of light cloud cover in the otherwise blue sky. The wind blew steadily — stronger than usual — cooling the warm summer air, causing waves and even a few whitecaps on the lake.
I've always been a saucy type. It probably started with ketchup, my first encounter with sauce when I was just a tiny Tater Tot of a girl. Almost everyone has some sort of experience with ketchup. Many of us have a long-term ongoing relationship and find it hard to imagine life without ketchup. My husband is a spreader. I am a dipper.
You could say it started with the simple, round smiling yellow face back in the historic happy hippy days of the 1960s. It's when Yellow Smiley was created first. Love, peace, smiles and all that jazz. For decades, Smiley was just Smiley — the iconic symbol that communicated happiness in any and every language. The word "emoji" hadn't even been invented yet.
It was a day like all others and a day like no other. As was the day before, and the day after — as are all days, just days, but often so much more. A friend mentioned it was her wedding anniversary. She was in a celebratory mood, and rightly so. I asked her the date, because I wasn't sure, and when she told me, I realized it was an anniversary for me as well. Except, mine was a sorrowful milestone.