Lucy Adams's Blog, page 12
September 25, 2013
The Apple Picking Gang
My mama and daddy up and went missing last Friday. I probably should have panicked, but my mother would frown upon that. So I went out the garden and weeded around my collard plants and waited for news. Saturday afternoon I received word from my mama that she and my daddy had run away and were staying with the Patels. She emailed:
We are up in the mountains this weekend. Our van is filled up with junk we have bought unintentionally while trying to find apples for sale. We are in Blairsville tonight. As soon as we find apples, we will buy some boxes of them (honey crisps, I hope), wedge them in among the chairs and settee and various brickabrack and start back. The people in my "Farmers Group" have all been coming up here for apples, and so we thought they would be all over the place. We saw one stand but didn't stop because we thought we were just getting warm. It will be to NC tomorrow to find where all the apples are. We will get plenty for all of us. We are staying with the Patels tonight.
I considered whether this is how Alzheimer's starts - on Thursday a person's parents are at home and accounted for and on Saturday they've taken the car and moved in with strangers, excusing all with cliched apple-a-day cockamamie. I ventured some reality orientation in my reply:
I hope the Patels have put you in their best room. Perhaps they can guide you to where the apples are hidden. By the way, not everything people - even farm people - post on FaceBook is true.
To avert worry, I went back out to my garden and picked peppers while thinking ill thoughts of farm people image crafting on FaceBook. On Sunday, my mother messaged again:
It is almost 3 PM and at last we have the apples. We are just leaving the orchard with Cameos and Jonagolds, thanks be to God. Also, and from various locations, we have a settee, a table, two chairs, 12 barbed wire stars, 12 birdhouses, 5 plants, two safety vests, 10 door mats, various cups and figurines,4 cowboy hats, two hornets nests, 2 large gem stones, other miscellany too numerous to mention, and a large chocolate malt. We are turning for home, as soon as we figure out this convoluted intersection right here.
My pulse quickened at the words "chocolate malt." The prospect excited me. I pictured my father, dressed in a safety vest, revolving the car in a round-about and my mother, dressed in a safety vest and flailing at a swarm of hornets, ordering him to exit it after each orbit. This is not how Alzheimer's starts, I decided. This is how a good adventure ends.
The chocolate malt did not survive the return trip, but my parents and the apples did.
***Reminder: Enter win a FREE copy of The Beast of Blue Mountain. Contest information is here. Entries must be received by September 30th. Be sure to let me know you are an Internet entry.
We are up in the mountains this weekend. Our van is filled up with junk we have bought unintentionally while trying to find apples for sale. We are in Blairsville tonight. As soon as we find apples, we will buy some boxes of them (honey crisps, I hope), wedge them in among the chairs and settee and various brickabrack and start back. The people in my "Farmers Group" have all been coming up here for apples, and so we thought they would be all over the place. We saw one stand but didn't stop because we thought we were just getting warm. It will be to NC tomorrow to find where all the apples are. We will get plenty for all of us. We are staying with the Patels tonight.
I considered whether this is how Alzheimer's starts - on Thursday a person's parents are at home and accounted for and on Saturday they've taken the car and moved in with strangers, excusing all with cliched apple-a-day cockamamie. I ventured some reality orientation in my reply:
I hope the Patels have put you in their best room. Perhaps they can guide you to where the apples are hidden. By the way, not everything people - even farm people - post on FaceBook is true.
To avert worry, I went back out to my garden and picked peppers while thinking ill thoughts of farm people image crafting on FaceBook. On Sunday, my mother messaged again:
It is almost 3 PM and at last we have the apples. We are just leaving the orchard with Cameos and Jonagolds, thanks be to God. Also, and from various locations, we have a settee, a table, two chairs, 12 barbed wire stars, 12 birdhouses, 5 plants, two safety vests, 10 door mats, various cups and figurines,4 cowboy hats, two hornets nests, 2 large gem stones, other miscellany too numerous to mention, and a large chocolate malt. We are turning for home, as soon as we figure out this convoluted intersection right here.
My pulse quickened at the words "chocolate malt." The prospect excited me. I pictured my father, dressed in a safety vest, revolving the car in a round-about and my mother, dressed in a safety vest and flailing at a swarm of hornets, ordering him to exit it after each orbit. This is not how Alzheimer's starts, I decided. This is how a good adventure ends.
The chocolate malt did not survive the return trip, but my parents and the apples did.
***Reminder: Enter win a FREE copy of The Beast of Blue Mountain. Contest information is here. Entries must be received by September 30th. Be sure to let me know you are an Internet entry.
September 23, 2013
Deceitful Like My Watermelon Contest
Enter to Win!
My newspaper column last week offers readers a chance to win a FREE copy of my new children's book, The Beast of Blue Mountain .
All you have to do is fill in the missing words in the newspaper column
and mail in your entry. The newspaper column, address for entries and
other information are found at the link below. Be sure to let me know
that you read my column on the Internet. (All entries will receive a coupon code for a 20% discount.)
Deceitful like my watermelon | Columbia County News-Times
***Only a couple of days remain to listen to the audio version of The Beast of Blue Mountain for FREE. If you enjoy it, you may purchase an mp3 download here.
September 20, 2013
My Yellow-Bellied Watermelon
Well, I've spent a lot of time in my garden lately keeping an eye on my watermelon. Kinfolk have whispered questions about whether I've been sitting out there watching it ripen or watching it rot. The fruit didn't have the courage to volunteer clues to the answer and sat in solitary resistance to my prodding. 
I finally mustered the nerve to show up the naysayers. Marching out to my small plot with knife in hand, severed the melon from the vine. It was a crime of passion. I immediately felt remorseful and wallowed in the what-ifs of what I had done. Regret moaned a sad song in my soul. But the deed was done, so I hauled the harvest inside and hid it in the crisper.In the evening, I gathered my family in the kitchen and confessed what I had done. I plead my case:
Children eagerly crowded around. The dense interior of the watermelon's inner sanctum remained a mystery. I would have to violate its integrity (if it had any) again:
It was not enough to just expose its red flesh. Hands greedily reached for it. Mouths salivated. We would quickly know the answer to the unkind speculation made about my gardening habits. Anticipation met anguish:
The worst of it was accidentally edited by an inept camera operator. It was a blessing. He prodded for a re-taste so he could do a re-take. No one wanted seconds:
The seeds of despair are all that remain.
As a reminder, you can listen to the audio of The Beast of Blue Mountain here for a limited time. Let your kids listen. It's free and it's for them!
September 18, 2013
Listen to a Story
This is my 400th blog post! I'm celebrating by sharing my new children's story with you. For a limited time, preview the audio version of
The Beast of Blue Mountain
:
Purchase the paperback picture book to read along with audio:
Purchase the mp3 download here.
Purchase the paperback picture book to read along with audio:
Purchase the mp3 download here.
September 16, 2013
Keeping Our Priorities Straight in the Bible Belt
Down with the devil in the Bible Belt. We love Satin in the south!
The star next to the word means we think it's very important.
Reported by Fox 5 News Atlanta.
The star next to the word means we think it's very important.
Reported by Fox 5 News Atlanta.
September 13, 2013
New Children's Book: The Beast of Blue Mountain
Crunch, crunch. Swish, swish. What is that?
I'm excited to announce the September 12 release of my new children's book,
The Beast of Blue Mountain.
Color illustrations accompany this tale of suspense and surprise dedicated to anyone who has ever heard a noise in the night and whispered, "What is that?"
Order a soft-cover copy for every kid you know by clicking here. Or at Amazon.
Order a signed copy through PayPal. Click on the link and fill out the simple form. You will make a payment of $12.45 ($9.95 for the book and $2.50 s&h) to lucybgoosey@aol.com. Be sure to write in the name of the child receiving the book so I can personalize it.
Save money. Order a pdf download from Etsy for only $2.99. Or order a Kindle version for the same price.
Thank you. I'd love to hear your feedback. If you are a blogger who reviews children's books, email me, lucybgoosey@aol.com.
I'm excited to announce the September 12 release of my new children's book,
The Beast of Blue Mountain.
Color illustrations accompany this tale of suspense and surprise dedicated to anyone who has ever heard a noise in the night and whispered, "What is that?"
Order a soft-cover copy for every kid you know by clicking here. Or at Amazon.
Order a signed copy through PayPal. Click on the link and fill out the simple form. You will make a payment of $12.45 ($9.95 for the book and $2.50 s&h) to lucybgoosey@aol.com. Be sure to write in the name of the child receiving the book so I can personalize it.
Save money. Order a pdf download from Etsy for only $2.99. Or order a Kindle version for the same price.
Thank you. I'd love to hear your feedback. If you are a blogger who reviews children's books, email me, lucybgoosey@aol.com.
September 12, 2013
Dude! You Should Totally Hire Me
My husband works for a leading on-line job board and candidate recruitment service. Routinely, he reads job copy, resumes and cover letters that range from stellar to pitiful to I-can't-believe-you-put-that-in-writing-to-a-potential-employer. Today, he forwarded me a brief cover letter from the latter category.
It isn't the awkward opening sentence paired with later touting of his excellent communication skills that raises eyebrows. I think employers may overlook that inconsistency. He proves himself a winner in the rat race by what he claims he's doing on the side:
I'm
currently a business student at Kent State University that is ready to
begin my business career. I'm highly motivated and driven to succeed and
will not let anything stop me from doing just that. I already have a
good bit of knowledge about led lights because I'm currently studying
Medical Marijuana on the side. I'm great with people and know how to
make people believe in what I'm telling them. I have great communication
skills and connect with people of all ages on a personal level.
It isn't the awkward opening sentence paired with later touting of his excellent communication skills that raises eyebrows. I think employers may overlook that inconsistency. He proves himself a winner in the rat race by what he claims he's doing on the side:
I'm
currently a business student at Kent State University that is ready to
begin my business career. I'm highly motivated and driven to succeed and
will not let anything stop me from doing just that. I already have a
good bit of knowledge about led lights because I'm currently studying
Medical Marijuana on the side. I'm great with people and know how to
make people believe in what I'm telling them. I have great communication
skills and connect with people of all ages on a personal level.
September 9, 2013
Wisconsin Called
Friday, I posted about my on-line run-in with a woman from Wisconsin. Her mama failed to teach her not to say anything if she could think of nothing nice to say about
Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run
. I speculated that perhaps she wrote such poor comments and put them on the Internet for the whole world to see because she is the victim of an unfortunate personality. Of course, I made sure to add that I would pray for her. Taking the high road is important in matters like this.
In fairness to her, I noted that there may be other explanations for her inability to laugh on cue. Communism was suggested. That's only a natural assumption.
And I do recall mentioning that her problem may be that Wisconsin as a state lacks humor. Everyone knows that. I meant it as a simple statement of fact, not as derision.
The communists haven't called, but Wisconsin did.
In fairness to her, I noted that there may be other explanations for her inability to laugh on cue. Communism was suggested. That's only a natural assumption.
And I do recall mentioning that her problem may be that Wisconsin as a state lacks humor. Everyone knows that. I meant it as a simple statement of fact, not as derision. The communists haven't called, but Wisconsin did.
September 6, 2013
But Am I Still Pretty?
Yesterday, I was looking over my books on Amazon. I was doing obsessive things like examining sales charts, reading reviews and analyzing data by geographic region. ThenI came across this humbling review
"Unfortunately, the title was the funniest thing in the whole book. This
is a collection on barely amusing, tedious, little stories."
for
I cascaded through several stages of emotion. First, I succumbed to shock. How could someone say such a thing, even if she is from Wisconsin, a state notorious for its lack of humor?
Next, I experienced anger. The thought, How could someone say such a thing, took on a different tone. To be so rude and insensitive to another person is plain wrong. Didn't her mama ever tell her that if she couldn't say anything nice, not to say anything at all? The nerve!
Alas, I was stricken with sadness and grief. I'd let a reader down. I wracked my brain in an effort to determine where I'd gone wrong.Was it my calculation of my wedding anniversary in dog years that left her flat? Did she find my admission that a little girl down the street spotted a dead roach in my house offensive? Or was the fact that I've dubbed the child Little Miss Bad Cholesterol due to her monogram, LDL, the turn off? I revealed, in print no less, that I strolled down a long hallway past my peers with my skirt shoved deep in my underwear. Could she not even giggle at that?
I did dedicate two entire pages to the communist pig roast that my brothers hosted in Mississippi. Maybe she's a communist. Maybe she has something against my brothers.
Maybe she's one of those people who doesn't know how to laugh at life's inevitable comedy of errors. Thus, her negativity has nothing to do with me or Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run and everything to do with her unfortunate personality, as we call the condition here in the South. In that case, I'm obliged to pray for her.
My feelings are hurt, but after working through my emotions, I'm perking up.
Nonetheless, that hasn't stopped me from desperately calling out, like the 40-year-old bridesmaid wearing cornflower blue, "But I'm still pretty, right?"
"Unfortunately, the title was the funniest thing in the whole book. This
is a collection on barely amusing, tedious, little stories."
for
I cascaded through several stages of emotion. First, I succumbed to shock. How could someone say such a thing, even if she is from Wisconsin, a state notorious for its lack of humor?
Next, I experienced anger. The thought, How could someone say such a thing, took on a different tone. To be so rude and insensitive to another person is plain wrong. Didn't her mama ever tell her that if she couldn't say anything nice, not to say anything at all? The nerve!
Alas, I was stricken with sadness and grief. I'd let a reader down. I wracked my brain in an effort to determine where I'd gone wrong.Was it my calculation of my wedding anniversary in dog years that left her flat? Did she find my admission that a little girl down the street spotted a dead roach in my house offensive? Or was the fact that I've dubbed the child Little Miss Bad Cholesterol due to her monogram, LDL, the turn off? I revealed, in print no less, that I strolled down a long hallway past my peers with my skirt shoved deep in my underwear. Could she not even giggle at that?
I did dedicate two entire pages to the communist pig roast that my brothers hosted in Mississippi. Maybe she's a communist. Maybe she has something against my brothers.
Maybe she's one of those people who doesn't know how to laugh at life's inevitable comedy of errors. Thus, her negativity has nothing to do with me or Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run and everything to do with her unfortunate personality, as we call the condition here in the South. In that case, I'm obliged to pray for her.
My feelings are hurt, but after working through my emotions, I'm perking up.
Nonetheless, that hasn't stopped me from desperately calling out, like the 40-year-old bridesmaid wearing cornflower blue, "But I'm still pretty, right?"
September 4, 2013
Can You See Me Now?
I caught a gallon of skim milk hiding in IGA's beer cooler last Friday night. What a wanna-be!
Or maybe someone had a moment of weakness. He waffled between milk for the baby or beer for big daddy. Beer won and milk was abandoned. In these tough economic times, priorities must be set, sacrifices have to be made.
How would you caption this picture?
What creative explanation would you give for why this milk is feeling so out of place?
