Danny Mac's Blog, page 19
April 8, 2022
A Very Karen Moment
Hello everyone,
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? On Monday morning this week, our resident Karen, aka Ginger, proceeded to have a total meltdown bringing in the manager, aka mom, and disturbing the writer of the house, aka me from weekly prep for Small Group.
Our local telephone company had the audacity to send a man to work on the lines directly in front of our house. His van parked on the far side of the road in line with our drive. He pulled the green box apart and worked without care for our dog. He paid no mind to her and this proved to be beyond intolerable for our dog.
After five minutes of Karen screeching out a closed window, I had enough. “Is it in our driveway?” is my usual question.
She paid no attention to my words and continued, “arrrrrrooooorrrrrroooo” in a constant stream of obscenities toward this man with the impudence to ignore her.
“GET UPSTAIRS,” as I herded her toward the steps with her complaining all the way.
She entered the bedroom where mom busied herself with the next project, “Grummmm, groannnnn” coming from deep in her throat to protest my miss treatment of her for sending her upstairs and not fulfilling her rant.
As I turned to go back to the computer, “arrrrrrooooorrrrrroooo” as she raced down the stairs again to resume her verbal attack on this unknown man.
“NO, GET UPSTAIRS.” This time I followed her upstairs and command her onto the bed. Her defiant stare screamed how she would not calm down. So, wrestled her to lay down and left.
Her parting shot, “Grummmm,” as I left the room.
Almost two minutes later, the telltale jingle of her license and ID around her neck indicated she sought more complaints about the man doing his job. As she made it to the bottom step, I came around the corner pointing two fingers at my eyes, then at hers, and back again. She slumped back upstairs with a groan of indignation.
The telephone repair lasted a good hour with our resident Karen trying every five minutes to get the final word at howling her temper. If she had opposable thumbs, the president of the telephone company would have received a formal complaint from her as she tried to get the man fired for doing his job.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? On Monday morning this week, our resident Karen, aka Ginger, proceeded to have a total meltdown bringing in the manager, aka mom, and disturbing the writer of the house, aka me from weekly prep for Small Group.
Our local telephone company had the audacity to send a man to work on the lines directly in front of our house. His van parked on the far side of the road in line with our drive. He pulled the green box apart and worked without care for our dog. He paid no mind to her and this proved to be beyond intolerable for our dog.
After five minutes of Karen screeching out a closed window, I had enough. “Is it in our driveway?” is my usual question.
She paid no attention to my words and continued, “arrrrrrooooorrrrrroooo” in a constant stream of obscenities toward this man with the impudence to ignore her.
“GET UPSTAIRS,” as I herded her toward the steps with her complaining all the way.
She entered the bedroom where mom busied herself with the next project, “Grummmm, groannnnn” coming from deep in her throat to protest my miss treatment of her for sending her upstairs and not fulfilling her rant.
As I turned to go back to the computer, “arrrrrrooooorrrrrroooo” as she raced down the stairs again to resume her verbal attack on this unknown man.
“NO, GET UPSTAIRS.” This time I followed her upstairs and command her onto the bed. Her defiant stare screamed how she would not calm down. So, wrestled her to lay down and left.
Her parting shot, “Grummmm,” as I left the room.
Almost two minutes later, the telltale jingle of her license and ID around her neck indicated she sought more complaints about the man doing his job. As she made it to the bottom step, I came around the corner pointing two fingers at my eyes, then at hers, and back again. She slumped back upstairs with a groan of indignation.
The telephone repair lasted a good hour with our resident Karen trying every five minutes to get the final word at howling her temper. If she had opposable thumbs, the president of the telephone company would have received a formal complaint from her as she tried to get the man fired for doing his job.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
April 1, 2022
Update on WIP
Hello everyone,
For the past couple of months, I continue to review and edit two books, Work In Process. The second book follows up the Flying People Series. It possesses several new flying people with new and old demons and monsters. The epilog has me confounded but working on ideas. This should be ready for Beta readers in late spring.
The next book for publication is a collection of short stories. These fall under contemporary romance or literary fiction. It covers lives and situations facing all of us today and includes humor, tragedy, romance, and quirky. The fifth edit comes with some insight from three previewers and I thank them for their help.
However, they did not indicate directly if they like or disliked the stories. I am looking for Beta readers to just give their opinion on the story itself. I am thinking of a grading scale of 1 equaling dislike and 5 equating to loving it. If anyone would like to read my stories coming from my dreams and rate them 1 - 5, you can email me at dannymac@dannymacauthor.com. I would be grateful to send you a Word Doc or PDF through Email or a printed copy through snail mail.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Tuesday evenings fill the house with Small Group friends to consume dinner and the Word of God. I lead the group that includes mostly older people with one young couple and their three small children. Since the young children match Ginger’s height, she thinks they make good playmates to jump and pounce to her delight.
Ginger wants to play with them as she does with any dog. We know she won’t bite them, but her claws are sharp and known to draw blood. Added the fact, that her forty pounds of excitement can easily knock them over or worse down the steps, we lock her in a bedroom with her sister studying for college classes.
Karen does not like being locked up away from the excitement. She lets the world know by a constant high pitch whine and scratching on the door. Mom yells up the stairs, “Ginger” trying to quiet her. Then the toddler hollers “Jingew” in the cutest and most adorable voice you can imagine.
Dinner begins and the conversation develops between bites. With everyone ignoring our resident Karen, she eventually quiets down to just an occasional whimper now and then.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
For the past couple of months, I continue to review and edit two books, Work In Process. The second book follows up the Flying People Series. It possesses several new flying people with new and old demons and monsters. The epilog has me confounded but working on ideas. This should be ready for Beta readers in late spring.
The next book for publication is a collection of short stories. These fall under contemporary romance or literary fiction. It covers lives and situations facing all of us today and includes humor, tragedy, romance, and quirky. The fifth edit comes with some insight from three previewers and I thank them for their help.
However, they did not indicate directly if they like or disliked the stories. I am looking for Beta readers to just give their opinion on the story itself. I am thinking of a grading scale of 1 equaling dislike and 5 equating to loving it. If anyone would like to read my stories coming from my dreams and rate them 1 - 5, you can email me at dannymac@dannymacauthor.com. I would be grateful to send you a Word Doc or PDF through Email or a printed copy through snail mail.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Tuesday evenings fill the house with Small Group friends to consume dinner and the Word of God. I lead the group that includes mostly older people with one young couple and their three small children. Since the young children match Ginger’s height, she thinks they make good playmates to jump and pounce to her delight.
Ginger wants to play with them as she does with any dog. We know she won’t bite them, but her claws are sharp and known to draw blood. Added the fact, that her forty pounds of excitement can easily knock them over or worse down the steps, we lock her in a bedroom with her sister studying for college classes.
Karen does not like being locked up away from the excitement. She lets the world know by a constant high pitch whine and scratching on the door. Mom yells up the stairs, “Ginger” trying to quiet her. Then the toddler hollers “Jingew” in the cutest and most adorable voice you can imagine.
Dinner begins and the conversation develops between bites. With everyone ignoring our resident Karen, she eventually quiets down to just an occasional whimper now and then.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
March 25, 2022
Getting Old Is Not for the Weak
Hello everyone,
Rolling out of bed this morning after a good night’s sleep, my back jumps out of place. Going to bed fine, this morning I list about ten degrees to the left with pain pounding with every step. I find comfort in my recliner, but it stiffens after a half-hour so I have to move before then or find myself stuck until someone helps me up.
I remember reading when my back was strong and spry about elderly people complaining growing old is not for the weak. One old man telling me, “The young cannot handle being old.” My laughter at these stories in my twenties does nothing to prepare me for the pain at sixty-three as I appear as a walking boomerang.
Now, my wife and daughter stare caringly at my pain and then angrily glare at me when they have to do the cooking and cleaning of the kitchen. They lovingly nurse me when my back fails to keep me upright, but they do not have to like it and they let me know about it. Working together, they create a delicious dinner of stuffed shells with ricotta and broccoli smothered in a parmesan cream sauce. I am a lucky man to have two beautiful women looking after me.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Three months ago, we started hosting our small group for dinner and Bible study. Two months ago, I began leading the small group in the study. I have an unusual manner of conducting the study and yet, everyone seems to like my style for it brings them into the story.
However, Ginger being a Karen sees herself as the center of attention beginning at meal preparation at four o’clock. Then the guests arrive and she goes crazy having everyone place the whole attention on her. This means whoever is speaking, she paces quickly to them expecting rubs and scratches. After three hours of socializing, people begin to exit for home and they most certainly have to say goodbye to her.
By nine in the evening, the house clears out of guests and our resident Karen finds exhaustion completely overtakes her body from bouncing around since four in the afternoon. She pops outside for quick relief and then plops on the couch into a tight ball of fur while sleep permeates her gumption.
Around ten, the day closes for me and I head to bed. Ginger does not follow and I go down to get her. “Come on, it’s bedtime,” encouraging her to come to bed. Not a sound or movement from the furball. So, a gentle jostle and still no movement. Frustrated, a forceful nudge and “Nooommnn, grrrruuunnn” in a low guttural leave me alone from a Karen without twitching a muscle. So I pulled out the big guns and send mom down to get her.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
Rolling out of bed this morning after a good night’s sleep, my back jumps out of place. Going to bed fine, this morning I list about ten degrees to the left with pain pounding with every step. I find comfort in my recliner, but it stiffens after a half-hour so I have to move before then or find myself stuck until someone helps me up.
I remember reading when my back was strong and spry about elderly people complaining growing old is not for the weak. One old man telling me, “The young cannot handle being old.” My laughter at these stories in my twenties does nothing to prepare me for the pain at sixty-three as I appear as a walking boomerang.
Now, my wife and daughter stare caringly at my pain and then angrily glare at me when they have to do the cooking and cleaning of the kitchen. They lovingly nurse me when my back fails to keep me upright, but they do not have to like it and they let me know about it. Working together, they create a delicious dinner of stuffed shells with ricotta and broccoli smothered in a parmesan cream sauce. I am a lucky man to have two beautiful women looking after me.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Three months ago, we started hosting our small group for dinner and Bible study. Two months ago, I began leading the small group in the study. I have an unusual manner of conducting the study and yet, everyone seems to like my style for it brings them into the story.
However, Ginger being a Karen sees herself as the center of attention beginning at meal preparation at four o’clock. Then the guests arrive and she goes crazy having everyone place the whole attention on her. This means whoever is speaking, she paces quickly to them expecting rubs and scratches. After three hours of socializing, people begin to exit for home and they most certainly have to say goodbye to her.
By nine in the evening, the house clears out of guests and our resident Karen finds exhaustion completely overtakes her body from bouncing around since four in the afternoon. She pops outside for quick relief and then plops on the couch into a tight ball of fur while sleep permeates her gumption.
Around ten, the day closes for me and I head to bed. Ginger does not follow and I go down to get her. “Come on, it’s bedtime,” encouraging her to come to bed. Not a sound or movement from the furball. So, a gentle jostle and still no movement. Frustrated, a forceful nudge and “Nooommnn, grrrruuunnn” in a low guttural leave me alone from a Karen without twitching a muscle. So I pulled out the big guns and send mom down to get her.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
March 18, 2022
To My Best Friend
Hello everyone,
This Saturday represents twenty-eight years of marriage to a woman God chose for me. She is the only person in this world who understands me and can live with my good and bad times. I hear other couples mention many fights they have with their spouse and we look at each other wondering why. We only had three fights in all our years married with the first happening before we made our vows.
Through the years we annoyed each other regularly and even changed to find new ways to aggravate each other. Yet, somehow, we managed to love each other despite our faults. Our first date came on July First and in September we became engaged. University caused us to wait until spring break to marry. It seemed like we fit each other. We matched in all the right ways. Where our personalities clashed, it didn’t seem to matter.
My best guess, she is my best friend in my life outside of Jesus. I don’t know how many years we have together, but I do know I will cherish every moment with her. She is my confidant, lover, friend, and partner in life.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? The northern Ohio weather took a drastic change this week from snow and blustery to sunshine and spring-like temperatures. Of course, this means Ginger wants out dozens of times during the day as opposed to the half a dozen during inclement weather. Additionally, her time spent outside goes from the bare minimum to do her job to a multitude of minutes including sunbathing like a teenager at the beach. She lets out a quick “Arf” when it is time to come in repeating the cycle every half hour.
As Wednesday saw near seventy degrees with wisps of white fluffy clouds floating by, she spent most of the day going in and out giving me extra exercise on the day. As evening settled after dinner, she wanted out again as I washed the dishes. Counter half clean when I hear the “Arf” wanting to reenter the house. Dry my hands, make the trip to her door, and she stared at me as if to say with the most Karen expression, “What do you want? Nobody called for you.”
“Are you coming in or not?” tersely replied back.
After another long stare from our resident Karen, I close the door and start for the kitchen. Upon reaching the top step, the sound of her door being kicked resonates throughout the house. A ten-second march back to her door and she entered with a true Karen groan and moan over me taking my sweet time letting her in.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
This Saturday represents twenty-eight years of marriage to a woman God chose for me. She is the only person in this world who understands me and can live with my good and bad times. I hear other couples mention many fights they have with their spouse and we look at each other wondering why. We only had three fights in all our years married with the first happening before we made our vows.
Through the years we annoyed each other regularly and even changed to find new ways to aggravate each other. Yet, somehow, we managed to love each other despite our faults. Our first date came on July First and in September we became engaged. University caused us to wait until spring break to marry. It seemed like we fit each other. We matched in all the right ways. Where our personalities clashed, it didn’t seem to matter.
My best guess, she is my best friend in my life outside of Jesus. I don’t know how many years we have together, but I do know I will cherish every moment with her. She is my confidant, lover, friend, and partner in life.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? The northern Ohio weather took a drastic change this week from snow and blustery to sunshine and spring-like temperatures. Of course, this means Ginger wants out dozens of times during the day as opposed to the half a dozen during inclement weather. Additionally, her time spent outside goes from the bare minimum to do her job to a multitude of minutes including sunbathing like a teenager at the beach. She lets out a quick “Arf” when it is time to come in repeating the cycle every half hour.
As Wednesday saw near seventy degrees with wisps of white fluffy clouds floating by, she spent most of the day going in and out giving me extra exercise on the day. As evening settled after dinner, she wanted out again as I washed the dishes. Counter half clean when I hear the “Arf” wanting to reenter the house. Dry my hands, make the trip to her door, and she stared at me as if to say with the most Karen expression, “What do you want? Nobody called for you.”
“Are you coming in or not?” tersely replied back.
After another long stare from our resident Karen, I close the door and start for the kitchen. Upon reaching the top step, the sound of her door being kicked resonates throughout the house. A ten-second march back to her door and she entered with a true Karen groan and moan over me taking my sweet time letting her in.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
March 11, 2022
28 Years of Trouble
Hello everyone,
Twenty-eight years of marriage catches you quicker than you may think. We celebrate every year with a small outing just the two of us. Where for the most part it has been bliss, there are a few moments of turmoil throughout the years. Some were caused by us both being hard-headed and quite a few were caused by me just being an agitator. Like this one:
Sitting on the couch watching television, I turned to my lovely bride and asked, “Would you like some tea?”
A warm smile, “Sure.”
“While you are up getting yours, can you get me one too?” I didn’t wait for the piercing eyes, I jumped up and made us tea.
A good test for a husband isn’t how much trouble he can avoid, but how much trouble he can get out of. Men will always be in trouble with their wives. It is in our nature to rub them wrong occasionally. If a woman does not become angry once in a while, it means she doesn’t care about him enough to get mad at him. That is not a place he wants to see.
If the true test of a husband is getting out of trouble, may I suggest cooking a meal for her? Learn to cook men, it mitigates out a multitude of sins, errors, and orneriness. Give her a night where she can pull her chair up to the table without slaving in the kitchen beforehand. For bonus points, clean the kitchen afterward giving her a whole evening to herself. It makes for a peaceful home with many benefits and favors long-term relationships.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? As mentioned before Ginger’s eats at four-ish. Starting at three o’clock most days she sits at the bottom of the steps looking despondent as an orphan in a Dicken’s novel. Seeing her melancholy stare, one might suspect she hadn’t eaten in over a month. Please note, breakfast comes at six-thirty every morning.
She began arguing about the speed at which people feed her several years ago. We become accustomed to the “Arrooonnnoo,” when the two steps from the closet to her bowl happen to slow. But, this past week she starts tapping her paw against the side of her bowl with total annoyance. The rhythmic beat reminds me of the Karen in so many stories tapping their foot impatiently waiting to be served. As I prepare dinner for us, mom is the one to feed her and she has no higher management to complain to.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
Twenty-eight years of marriage catches you quicker than you may think. We celebrate every year with a small outing just the two of us. Where for the most part it has been bliss, there are a few moments of turmoil throughout the years. Some were caused by us both being hard-headed and quite a few were caused by me just being an agitator. Like this one:
Sitting on the couch watching television, I turned to my lovely bride and asked, “Would you like some tea?”
A warm smile, “Sure.”
“While you are up getting yours, can you get me one too?” I didn’t wait for the piercing eyes, I jumped up and made us tea.
A good test for a husband isn’t how much trouble he can avoid, but how much trouble he can get out of. Men will always be in trouble with their wives. It is in our nature to rub them wrong occasionally. If a woman does not become angry once in a while, it means she doesn’t care about him enough to get mad at him. That is not a place he wants to see.
If the true test of a husband is getting out of trouble, may I suggest cooking a meal for her? Learn to cook men, it mitigates out a multitude of sins, errors, and orneriness. Give her a night where she can pull her chair up to the table without slaving in the kitchen beforehand. For bonus points, clean the kitchen afterward giving her a whole evening to herself. It makes for a peaceful home with many benefits and favors long-term relationships.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? As mentioned before Ginger’s eats at four-ish. Starting at three o’clock most days she sits at the bottom of the steps looking despondent as an orphan in a Dicken’s novel. Seeing her melancholy stare, one might suspect she hadn’t eaten in over a month. Please note, breakfast comes at six-thirty every morning.
She began arguing about the speed at which people feed her several years ago. We become accustomed to the “Arrooonnnoo,” when the two steps from the closet to her bowl happen to slow. But, this past week she starts tapping her paw against the side of her bowl with total annoyance. The rhythmic beat reminds me of the Karen in so many stories tapping their foot impatiently waiting to be served. As I prepare dinner for us, mom is the one to feed her and she has no higher management to complain to.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
28 Years of Trouble
Hello everyone,
Twenty-eight years of marriage catches you quicker than you may think. We celebrate every year with a small outing just the two of us. Where for the most part it has been bliss, there are a few moments of turmoil throughout the years. Some were caused by us both being hard-headed and quite a few were caused by me just being an agitator. Like this one:
Sitting on the couch watching television, I turned to my lovely bride and asked, “Would you like some tea?”
A warm smile, “Sure.”
“While you are up getting yours, can you get me one too?” I didn’t wait for the piercing eyes, I jumped up and made us tea.
A good test for a husband isn’t how much trouble he can avoid, but how much trouble he can get out of. Men will always be in trouble with their wives. It is in our nature to rub them wrong occasionally. If a woman does not become angry once in a while, it means she doesn’t care about him enough to get mad at him. That is not a place he wants to see.
If the true test of a husband is getting out of trouble, may I suggest cooking a meal for her? Learn to cook men, it mitigates out a multitude of sins, errors, and orneriness. Give her a night where she can pull her chair up to the table without slaving in the kitchen beforehand. For bonus points, clean the kitchen afterward giving her a whole evening to herself. It makes for a peaceful home with many benefits and favors long-term relationships.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? As mentioned before Ginger’s eats at four-ish. Starting at three o’clock most days she sits at the bottom of the steps looking despondent as an orphan in a Dicken’s novel. Seeing her melancholy stare, one might suspect she hadn’t eaten in over a month. Please note, breakfast comes at six-thirty every morning.
She began arguing about the speed at which people feed her several years ago. We become accustomed to the “Arrooonnnoo,” when the two steps from the closet to her bowl happen to slow. But, this past week she starts tapping her paw against the side of her bowl with total annoyance. The rhythmic beat reminds me of the Karen in so many stories tapping their foot impatiently waiting to be served. As I prepare dinner for us, mom is the one to feed her and she has no higher management to complain to.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
Twenty-eight years of marriage catches you quicker than you may think. We celebrate every year with a small outing just the two of us. Where for the most part it has been bliss, there are a few moments of turmoil throughout the years. Some were caused by us both being hard-headed and quite a few were caused by me just being an agitator. Like this one:
Sitting on the couch watching television, I turned to my lovely bride and asked, “Would you like some tea?”
A warm smile, “Sure.”
“While you are up getting yours, can you get me one too?” I didn’t wait for the piercing eyes, I jumped up and made us tea.
A good test for a husband isn’t how much trouble he can avoid, but how much trouble he can get out of. Men will always be in trouble with their wives. It is in our nature to rub them wrong occasionally. If a woman does not become angry once in a while, it means she doesn’t care about him enough to get mad at him. That is not a place he wants to see.
If the true test of a husband is getting out of trouble, may I suggest cooking a meal for her? Learn to cook men, it mitigates out a multitude of sins, errors, and orneriness. Give her a night where she can pull her chair up to the table without slaving in the kitchen beforehand. For bonus points, clean the kitchen afterward giving her a whole evening to herself. It makes for a peaceful home with many benefits and favors long-term relationships.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? As mentioned before Ginger’s eats at four-ish. Starting at three o’clock most days she sits at the bottom of the steps looking despondent as an orphan in a Dicken’s novel. Seeing her melancholy stare, one might suspect she hadn’t eaten in over a month. Please note, breakfast comes at six-thirty every morning.
She began arguing about the speed at which people feed her several years ago. We become accustomed to the “Arrooonnnoo,” when the two steps from the closet to her bowl happen to slow. But, this past week she starts tapping her paw against the side of her bowl with total annoyance. The rhythmic beat reminds me of the Karen in so many stories tapping their foot impatiently waiting to be served. As I prepare dinner for us, mom is the one to feed her and she has no higher management to complain to.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
March 4, 2022
Why Do Men Do That?
Hello everyone,
When my wife and I were newlyweds, we move from one apartment to another. Our shower curtain didn’t match the new bathroom and we shopped for one that matched. After an unbearable length of searching my wife narrowed the possibilities to two. One clear with the correct color scheme and an opaque one with the same color but a different pattern. “Which should we get?” as if I had any say in decorating the house.
“Get the opaque one.”
“Why”
“Because it makes it easier to sneak up on you while showering.”
Her eyes rolled to the back of the head, crisscrossed and trolled forward in amusement and anger. Then the demure voice from a young woman searching towels next to us, “Why do men do that?” That question popped into my head every so often and I thought of it for twenty-five years.
My vague summation formulates that men have a primitive necessity to face danger. This primeval desire causes us to drive too fast, face angry bulls in an arena, and sneak up on our wives while they shower deep in thought. Any of these actions may cause death if we are not careful. These dangerous endeavors require careful planning, timing, and execution or leave us worse for wear. I hope this answers one question wives have had in the thousands of years of men teasing their wives.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? A winter’s cold came over me last weekend. It got me out of Saturday shopping with my wife. So, my daughter took her shopping. The two left at ten in the morning but took fifteen minutes to deice the car. Ginger whined at the window as the car warmed up as the ice melts from the windshield. Then she wanted out to see them clearly and banged the bell. However, the house impaired her view. Two minutes later, she banged and barked to come back in. After another few minutes of crying at the window, the car rolled out of the drive.
Ginger came to me with her whiniest Karen expression and the look she gave me told of her displeasure with her human sister and mother leaving without her.
“You know, if you could behave in the car, they would take you with them,” in a snarky tone.
Ginger turned away from me with the low guttural moan for my honest but unwarranted comment. A thud came from the living room with more groans of annoyance over being left at home and my comment offending our resident Karen as she dropped for a nap.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
When my wife and I were newlyweds, we move from one apartment to another. Our shower curtain didn’t match the new bathroom and we shopped for one that matched. After an unbearable length of searching my wife narrowed the possibilities to two. One clear with the correct color scheme and an opaque one with the same color but a different pattern. “Which should we get?” as if I had any say in decorating the house.
“Get the opaque one.”
“Why”
“Because it makes it easier to sneak up on you while showering.”
Her eyes rolled to the back of the head, crisscrossed and trolled forward in amusement and anger. Then the demure voice from a young woman searching towels next to us, “Why do men do that?” That question popped into my head every so often and I thought of it for twenty-five years.
My vague summation formulates that men have a primitive necessity to face danger. This primeval desire causes us to drive too fast, face angry bulls in an arena, and sneak up on our wives while they shower deep in thought. Any of these actions may cause death if we are not careful. These dangerous endeavors require careful planning, timing, and execution or leave us worse for wear. I hope this answers one question wives have had in the thousands of years of men teasing their wives.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? A winter’s cold came over me last weekend. It got me out of Saturday shopping with my wife. So, my daughter took her shopping. The two left at ten in the morning but took fifteen minutes to deice the car. Ginger whined at the window as the car warmed up as the ice melts from the windshield. Then she wanted out to see them clearly and banged the bell. However, the house impaired her view. Two minutes later, she banged and barked to come back in. After another few minutes of crying at the window, the car rolled out of the drive.
Ginger came to me with her whiniest Karen expression and the look she gave me told of her displeasure with her human sister and mother leaving without her.
“You know, if you could behave in the car, they would take you with them,” in a snarky tone.
Ginger turned away from me with the low guttural moan for my honest but unwarranted comment. A thud came from the living room with more groans of annoyance over being left at home and my comment offending our resident Karen as she dropped for a nap.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
February 25, 2022
A Writer’s Dilemma
Hello everyone,
My wife foraged through the mountain of boxes looking for something. Naturally, she found everything but what she searched for. One exceptional find was a binder with old postcards sleeved for protection. These antique postcards revealed an age gone by with one welcoming the troops home from WWI. With each page turned in the binder came a chorus of oohs and ahs with a description of the uniqueness.
She mentioned some interesting notes on the back of one and that set my writing brain to work. I pictured a scenario where a person found their grandfather’s postcards and letters to their grandmother after her passing. The fortyish woman and her near retirement mother discovered the love notes hidden in a box at the back of the closet. The first comes from a fort in America with the usual “miss you” sediments. As the mother and daughter keep reading the WWII postcards kept in chronological order, they become more personal. Moreover, the conservative quiet grandfather made cryptic suggestions for his return that embarrass both daughter and granddaughter upon thinking about it. They both laugh, cry and cringe as they read the early history of the grandparents. They don’t make much headway organizing the house that day.
It seems ideas for stories jump into my mind from the strangest sources. I don’t know if this will make a short story, become part of a longer story, or just a scene to store away in for future reference. Is this the life of a fiction writer? Wherever I go, read or hear has the potential of becoming a story to tell. Like or comment if you suffer from the same dilemma.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Last week we took Ginger to the vet for her annual checkup. Being a Karen, she complained, moaned, and otherwise showed her disapproval the entire twenty-minute trip to the office. To everyone’s surprise, she actually sat still long enough to obtain her weight on the scale. Then more petulant noises as we waited in the examination room with special complaints against those daring to walk near the closed door to the busy corridor.
The assistant entered the room for her vitals and Ginger liked the attention until prodded for her temperature, pulse, and other general health concerns. Then more squeaks of displeasure over another long wait for the doctor. Ginger wanted nothing to do with the doctor knowing the doctor does unpleasant stuff like prick her with a needle, pull at her ears, and shine a bright light into her eyes. The nice lady doctor reached for the kryptonite of any Karen dog and grabbed a handful of treats. No more complaints since there was a fair tradeoff.
On the way out, Ginger made friends with a cat in a carrier by squirming on the floor to it. The ride back home was quiet and peaceful. This horrific event wore her out for the day.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
My wife foraged through the mountain of boxes looking for something. Naturally, she found everything but what she searched for. One exceptional find was a binder with old postcards sleeved for protection. These antique postcards revealed an age gone by with one welcoming the troops home from WWI. With each page turned in the binder came a chorus of oohs and ahs with a description of the uniqueness.
She mentioned some interesting notes on the back of one and that set my writing brain to work. I pictured a scenario where a person found their grandfather’s postcards and letters to their grandmother after her passing. The fortyish woman and her near retirement mother discovered the love notes hidden in a box at the back of the closet. The first comes from a fort in America with the usual “miss you” sediments. As the mother and daughter keep reading the WWII postcards kept in chronological order, they become more personal. Moreover, the conservative quiet grandfather made cryptic suggestions for his return that embarrass both daughter and granddaughter upon thinking about it. They both laugh, cry and cringe as they read the early history of the grandparents. They don’t make much headway organizing the house that day.
It seems ideas for stories jump into my mind from the strangest sources. I don’t know if this will make a short story, become part of a longer story, or just a scene to store away in for future reference. Is this the life of a fiction writer? Wherever I go, read or hear has the potential of becoming a story to tell. Like or comment if you suffer from the same dilemma.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Last week we took Ginger to the vet for her annual checkup. Being a Karen, she complained, moaned, and otherwise showed her disapproval the entire twenty-minute trip to the office. To everyone’s surprise, she actually sat still long enough to obtain her weight on the scale. Then more petulant noises as we waited in the examination room with special complaints against those daring to walk near the closed door to the busy corridor.
The assistant entered the room for her vitals and Ginger liked the attention until prodded for her temperature, pulse, and other general health concerns. Then more squeaks of displeasure over another long wait for the doctor. Ginger wanted nothing to do with the doctor knowing the doctor does unpleasant stuff like prick her with a needle, pull at her ears, and shine a bright light into her eyes. The nice lady doctor reached for the kryptonite of any Karen dog and grabbed a handful of treats. No more complaints since there was a fair tradeoff.
On the way out, Ginger made friends with a cat in a carrier by squirming on the floor to it. The ride back home was quiet and peaceful. This horrific event wore her out for the day.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
February 18, 2022
A Valentine’s Blob
Hello everyone,
This story came up in my Facebook memories. I hope you enjoy it.
Valentine’s Day appeared on Sunday in 2021. Every Sunday for going on twenty-eight years, I made pancakes for the family. When my daughter was just a wee little girl, I made special pancakes consisting of shapes such as hearts, bears, and other fun things to eat. I even tried words which is tricky because I have to write them backward. Along came her teenage years and she stopped having breakfast with us.
When Valentine’s Day fell on Sunday last year, I reminisced of years before and tried to make a heart for my wife. It morphed into an unrecognizable shape with no resemblance to a heart. As I flipped the pancake over, my wife nosed over to the stove.
She noticed the flipped pancake, “Oh look a heart - - - But not really, it is just a blob.”
“A Valentine’s Blob made especially for you.”
Together we said I was out of practice and laughed it off. What do you get your wife of twenty-seven years of marriage, Valentine’s blob? The romance ran amok in our house that special Sunday morning. This was me showing love for my wife and she returned it in kind. So to men out there, make your wife a Valentine’s Day blob to show your love. Don’t wait for Valentine’s Day 2023.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Last Sunday, I went for a shower. Ginger sprawls furry self over my side of the bed. Feeling rejuvenated after the shower, I exit the bathroom. Ginger moved, well not move as much as changed positions. Now curled up into a furball, I sit next to her to get dressed. Then a sneeze comes quickly over me with a weird sound blasting throughout the room. Just as I recover from the first, a second sneeze blasted out of my lungs.
Then a long disgruntled grumble from alongside me caught my attention. Wiping my nose with a tissue, I turn to see our four-legged Karen staring at me. The stare chilled my bones with its coldness. If capable, her hands would have been clasped on her hips as she groaned displeasure for disturbing her peaceful slumber.
“I sneezed,” said in self-defense and she groaned again reiterating her annoyance.
“Karen, if you don’t like it, take it up with the manager.”
Ginger crawled out of her ball and marched over to mom to complain.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
This story came up in my Facebook memories. I hope you enjoy it.
Valentine’s Day appeared on Sunday in 2021. Every Sunday for going on twenty-eight years, I made pancakes for the family. When my daughter was just a wee little girl, I made special pancakes consisting of shapes such as hearts, bears, and other fun things to eat. I even tried words which is tricky because I have to write them backward. Along came her teenage years and she stopped having breakfast with us.
When Valentine’s Day fell on Sunday last year, I reminisced of years before and tried to make a heart for my wife. It morphed into an unrecognizable shape with no resemblance to a heart. As I flipped the pancake over, my wife nosed over to the stove.
She noticed the flipped pancake, “Oh look a heart - - - But not really, it is just a blob.”
“A Valentine’s Blob made especially for you.”
Together we said I was out of practice and laughed it off. What do you get your wife of twenty-seven years of marriage, Valentine’s blob? The romance ran amok in our house that special Sunday morning. This was me showing love for my wife and she returned it in kind. So to men out there, make your wife a Valentine’s Day blob to show your love. Don’t wait for Valentine’s Day 2023.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Last Sunday, I went for a shower. Ginger sprawls furry self over my side of the bed. Feeling rejuvenated after the shower, I exit the bathroom. Ginger moved, well not move as much as changed positions. Now curled up into a furball, I sit next to her to get dressed. Then a sneeze comes quickly over me with a weird sound blasting throughout the room. Just as I recover from the first, a second sneeze blasted out of my lungs.
Then a long disgruntled grumble from alongside me caught my attention. Wiping my nose with a tissue, I turn to see our four-legged Karen staring at me. The stare chilled my bones with its coldness. If capable, her hands would have been clasped on her hips as she groaned displeasure for disturbing her peaceful slumber.
“I sneezed,” said in self-defense and she groaned again reiterating her annoyance.
“Karen, if you don’t like it, take it up with the manager.”
Ginger crawled out of her ball and marched over to mom to complain.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
February 11, 2022
I Am Sinister
Hello everyone,
I am sinister. The definition of sinister today is evil, ominous, and a little creepy. However, the original definition was of or on the left side. Yes, that means I am left-handed. I read the etymology of sinister and it stated the modern concept of it meaning evil came from the idea Jesus sits at the right hand of God and is good, therefore the left must be evil. This idea disregards the nature of God being completely good but apparently words can gain meaning from misconceptions.
Only about twelve percent of people are left-handed. Yet, it seems about fifty percent of the people I know are left-handed. I don’t know if we just naturally gather together or I gravitate towards it.
I managed a restaurant in my younger days. The Area Supervisor and his boss, the Regional Manager came for a visit. The RM notice the ladle and other tools facing left. He announced they should be the other way for ease of use. My cook that day was a five-foot ball of spit-fire and shouted, “Who moved my utensils.”
The RM sheepishly replied, “I made it easier to use.”
“I’m left-handed,” she demanded.
RM taken back, “What if Danny needs to use it?”
“He is left-handed.”
“What if the waitress comes to help?”
“She is left-handed”
All three of us working that morning were left-handed. The probability of that happening was very small but there we were.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? We began hosting the first of this year our Small Group with dinner at six and Bible study at seven every Tuesday night. We all know Karen has to be the center of attention. With my daughter shoveling snow while the wife and I clean the house, Ginger jumps in the way trying to capture our attention while whining out the window at her sister. Then diner guests arrive and it pushes our dog to new heights of excitement as she runs from guest to guest with her sad eyes claiming no love since forever. This goes on all evening.
A normal day sees our dog going out at least fifteen times and barking at something in the neighborhood at least ten times. Wednesday becomes a makeup day for Ginger’s beauty rest and she goes out just five times all day with three barking sessions at the transgressor within her sight. Our four-legged Karen wore herself out the night before.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
I am sinister. The definition of sinister today is evil, ominous, and a little creepy. However, the original definition was of or on the left side. Yes, that means I am left-handed. I read the etymology of sinister and it stated the modern concept of it meaning evil came from the idea Jesus sits at the right hand of God and is good, therefore the left must be evil. This idea disregards the nature of God being completely good but apparently words can gain meaning from misconceptions.
Only about twelve percent of people are left-handed. Yet, it seems about fifty percent of the people I know are left-handed. I don’t know if we just naturally gather together or I gravitate towards it.
I managed a restaurant in my younger days. The Area Supervisor and his boss, the Regional Manager came for a visit. The RM notice the ladle and other tools facing left. He announced they should be the other way for ease of use. My cook that day was a five-foot ball of spit-fire and shouted, “Who moved my utensils.”
The RM sheepishly replied, “I made it easier to use.”
“I’m left-handed,” she demanded.
RM taken back, “What if Danny needs to use it?”
“He is left-handed.”
“What if the waitress comes to help?”
“She is left-handed”
All three of us working that morning were left-handed. The probability of that happening was very small but there we were.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? We began hosting the first of this year our Small Group with dinner at six and Bible study at seven every Tuesday night. We all know Karen has to be the center of attention. With my daughter shoveling snow while the wife and I clean the house, Ginger jumps in the way trying to capture our attention while whining out the window at her sister. Then diner guests arrive and it pushes our dog to new heights of excitement as she runs from guest to guest with her sad eyes claiming no love since forever. This goes on all evening.
A normal day sees our dog going out at least fifteen times and barking at something in the neighborhood at least ten times. Wednesday becomes a makeup day for Ginger’s beauty rest and she goes out just five times all day with three barking sessions at the transgressor within her sight. Our four-legged Karen wore herself out the night before.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com
God bless,
Danny Mac
