Diane Stringam Tolley's Blog: On the Border, page 26

Letters home

Winding up to Remembrance Day... Erik, right and a colleague, Larry.
 On the back of the picture, it says: 'I'm the one in green'.Remembrance Day.

A day set aside to think about all of the people who have served us by laying down their lives.

And who are risking their lives today.

The ultimate sacrifice.

My thoughts are turned to the times when my husband and I have toured memorials around the world.

The military cemetery in Cambridge, England, where we had to leave because I was crying.

The Vietnam memorial in Washington. DC, when we watched a worker do a 'rubbing' for the brother of a fallen soldier, before we had to leave because I was crying.

The bunkers on the beach in Normandy, before we had to leave because I was crying.

The tiny military museum in the English countryside that we had to leave because . . . I think I'm beginning to see a pattern.

My second son served for eight years as an engineer/mine specialist in the Canadian army.

Including a peace-keeping mission in Bosnia. (When he returned home, he walked over to the lawn and just stood there. When asked why, he said, "I haven't been able to simply walk over and stand on grass for 10 months. This feels wonderful!)

I thought it particularly appropriate to include excerpts from some of his letters home . . .

Be warned, he was a soldier and had a very wicked sense of humour and . . . opinions . . .

14 June

Greetings, Earth Dwellers,

The average temperature is currently hovering around +34C, which it has been all week. My secretary, Aida, was translating the radio for me and told me that these temperatures are the hottest in 68 years. Boy, are we lucky. The humidity is about 10000000% on top of that, so as you towel off from your freezing shower, the water droplets are replaced by sweat droplets as fast as you can wipe them off. I'm drinking 10 litres of water a day. 4 of them during my workout alone. Just crazy.

*  *  *

I forget what the date is, July something.

Hi, everybody!

I hope you all had fun at camp this last week, You'd better have. I had a lot of fun diving on the island of Vis. Even without the diving, the scenery was unbelievable. Except for the old ladies on the beach without tops on. Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!! That sort of thing could scar me for life. It should be illegal. Fortunately, I spent lots of time under water. I even held an octopus. He wasn't impressed. His suction cups felt really neat, though. The laser vision burns, though. Who knew octopus could cook their own food? National Geographic had taught me nothing!

NOTHING!

Calm now.

*  *  *

I'm doing well, since you asked. I just drove here for the first time yesterday, and I had a lot of fun. The road signs are just a vague suggestion to the motorists here, so I had to adjust my driving doctrine to suit the conditions. Basically, we speed everywhere, and pass when we want to. Even driving like a maniac, my boss, Major Thelwell, says that I'm the safest driver she's seen here. I can't wait to drive around with her at the helm. Apparently I'm in for an exciting trip.

Later this week, I get to drive to Banja Luka on Tuesday, Zgon on Wednesday (it's right beside Kluc on the map, if you're looking for it), and then we go to Sarajevo by way of Tuzla on Thursday, returning on Friday by going through Kakanj. Basically, I get to see the whole country in a week. Sarajevo will be fun, I think.

Please send pictures of the dogs. I told my assistant, Aida about them and she wants to see them. There are a lot of dogs around here, but most are the end result of decades of hasty, unplanned dog sex. There was a cute little puppy who lives in the entrance bunker at the camp in Zgon, though. He was there with all the guards who were dressed in their fighting gear, and he was inspecting our vehicle while we talked to the guards. What a little cutie. I think he was a little Doberman without a docked tail, and no doubt he gets away with murder at the guard bunker. Fortunately, everyone seems to like Canadians.

*  *  *

The Book of Bosnia

Chapter One

1. And it came to pass that the soldiers of the Queen did go forth into the land of Bosnia, to bring a lasting peace unto the land.

2. And the soldiers did look about them and did see many peoples throughout the land, and behold, the land was bountiful, and beautiful to be seen.

3. And it came to pass that there was a spirit of contention throughout the land, causing much death and destruction.

4. And the soldiers dwelt in a tent.

5. Now the soldiers went forth unto the people, saying:

6. What is wrong with you people?

7. Lo, these words were heard by many, and the people did listen. But the people did not speak English, so they did continue to fight, and ignored the Queen's soldiers.

8. And there was no air-conditioning to be had.

9. Now the soldiers were angry, because the people were fighting among themselves, and many people had died. Plus one leg had fallen off their fooseball table, which did enrage them.

10. Therefore, the soldiers did cry out to their Lord:

11. "Oh, Lord, why hast thou forsaken this land?"

12. And the Lord did hear the cry of the soldiers, and did pity them, and did say unto them:

13. "Quit whining! For crying out loud. You sound like a bunch of little girls!"

14. And many great and glorious things did the Lord speak unto the disgruntled soldiers in this manner, until the soldier's hearts were softened and they did fall to the earth in amazement.

15. Lo, their parachutes had not opened.

16. Now the soldiers were of the mind that the Lord had played a rotten trick on them, what with the parachutes and all, so therefore the soldiers did decide to bring peace unto the land of Bosnia by circumventing Him.

12. And it came to pass that the soldiers did cry unto a false god.

18. And this false god was called Chrétien, the father of lies, the ancient enemy of all men.

19. And Chrétien did speak words unto the soldiers, but the soldiers were deceived, and did misunderstand his words, since Chrétien cannot speak any mortal language.

20. And it came to pass that the soldiers began to wander aimlessly throughout the land, and their faith did diminish, and they forsook the false god Chrétien, and did end their days as wanderers, eating berries and kittens and other nasty stuff.

21. And peace was brought by Superman, and there was much rejoicing.

A Sticky Story

My Mama said, “Please eat your mush,”Makes your skin great and your hair lush,Sticks to your ribs and satisfies,Just eating it shows you are wise!It took time to appreciate,I eat it now and I feel great!Of course, I add a trifle more,Than Mom (when I was three or four…)My oatmeal now is quite the ‘stew’,I put in raisins, almonds, too,‘A bit of cinnamon here and there,And nutmeg, nothing can compare.Maybe fruit--all kinds will do,And coconut? Spoon that in, too, Then sugar, heavy cream, oh, my,And I’m in Heaven, by and by.There’s just one thing which I lament,Although this dish is Heaven sent,It passes ribs when it passes lips,Now it just sticks to my hips!
A little bonus today:My favourite otmeal story, Why?It was my Dad's. He's quite a guy!
Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

In, or eating, come and see,Which 'Pickle' topic there will be!
Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...

Oatmeal (November 7) Today

Pickles (In or eating!) (November 14)Giving Thanks! (November 21)French Toast--or Breakfast (November 28)Mittens (December 5)Poinsettia -or- Potted Plants (December 12)Muffins (December 19)Candy Canes (December 26)Treasure (January 2)Stuffed animals (Januray 9)Get lost (January 16)Clocks (January 23)Time (January 30)

Lighted

Guest Post by Little Brother Blair Stringam Summer was coming to an end and I was trying to earn the last few dollars that I could before my fall college semester started. Working for a local farmer, I was making the substantial amount of $6 an hour. Thank goodness college tuition at the time was around $300 a semester. My job that fall was driving a grain truck--first out to the field to collect the thrashed grain from the combines--then back to the farm headquarters to empty the load into a large grain silo. The work wasn’t terribly exciting but it was paying the bills.And the truck radio was great at playing the latest top 40 hits. We worked from 7am in the morning to about 11pm at night. The hours were long but I would be in school soon, so I didn’t mind. And the long hours did mean that my paycheck was a little larger. One evening we had worked even later than usual and I had just taken the last load from the combines.  I pointed the truck toward the north end of the field and the field turnout there to the main road.I was a little jealous that the combine drivers were done for the night while I had about 45 minutes before I would have the truck emptied and parked for the evening. As I peered through the darkness looking for the turnout to the main road, I noticed a greenish-white glow on the horizon.As I gazed, I could see large beams of light that appeared to be shooting from the ground up into the heavens. It looked a long distance away and I frantically tried to think about what could be causing it.  As I mentioned, it was late and my mind would infinitely rather be asleep. Now, Calgary was about 150 miles north of me and my tired mind started wondering if some disaster was happening there. I stopped the truck and just gazed at the pulsing lights. What tragedy could Calgary be experiencing at that moment? Could Russia have just nuked the oil-rich city? I started to tune my radio to the news station. Then my weary mind began to wake up.I realized I was simply looking at a spectacular display of the northern lights.Growing up in Canada, I had seen them. The northern lights. Certainly, I had. But as greenish blue glows on the northern horizon.I had never seen the spectacular pulsating light display I was witnessing that fall evening. Now I was struggling with my situation. Should I sit in the field and enjoy the cosmic fireworks display or should I put the truck in gear, finish my job, then head home for some much-needed rest? Practicality won out. I decided that I would go dump and park the truck, then try to get one last look at the spectacular light display before I went to bed.I did so. But, sadly, when I looked again toward the horizon, only a slight glow remained...I haven’t seen anything like it since that night. And I don't know if I will ever get the opportunity to see the breathtaking magnificent display I witnessed then.When there was just me. My grain truck.And the lights.One can only hope. But if there is a next time, you can bet my truck will be parked. And I will be enjoying the view.

A Crow’s Cawse

Okay. I have to admit that crows aren't my favourite feathered creature.
But they are fun to put in a rhyme and as today is Halloween, an apt topic!
Here we go . . .
A crow emerges from the mist,Its blazing eyes can’t be dismissed,

I wonder as I have before,

What did he get his bad rap for?

Did he miss eating all his greens?

And then quit cawlege in his teens?

Drink too much cawfee in his life?

Forget to caw his loving wife?

Perhaps his drinking went too far,

Spent too much time at his crow bar.

No visits from ol’ Santa Caws,

For frequent and diverse faux pas?

Did his cawstume-wearing e’er portend

An inclination to offend?

And did his friends all scream ‘foul play!’

When they met to play crowquet?

The cawking did our bird eschew,

When fixing plumbing old and new?

And did he horrify his Folks

With cawnstant telling of bad Jokes?

When meeting his light-feathered friend, 

Call him cawcasion to the end?

And did he stomp the crowcus flat?

When angry, crowcuss? ((What a brat!)

For such a shiny, pretty bird,

His reputation seems absurd!

So, for the record, I dispute

The total loss of his repute!

This evening on this crisp fall day,

When kids (and crows) come out to play,

Please be kind-hearted, don’t demeanOr cawse them grief this Halloween.

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Sticks to your ribs, served fresh and hot,Come dive into our oatmeal pot!
Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...

Halloween -or- your favourite Knock-Knock Joke (October 31) Today!

Oatmeal (November 7)Pickles (In or eating!) (November 14)Giving Thanks! (November 21)French Toast--or Breakfast (November 28)Mittens (December 5)Poinsettia -or- Potted Plants (December 12)Muffins (December 19)Candy Canes (December 26)

The ANT in me

I'm on the mend, the end's in sight,
(At least I wish with all my might,)
Today, I'll have to fudge a bit,
I hope this old poem is a hit!

If you could be an animal, what is it you would choose?

A lion with his heavy mane? A sloth who likes to snooze?

Perhaps a horse who runs so fast. A monkey in a tree?

How about a dolphin playing games of tag at sea?

A shaggy bear? They get to eat most everything that’s seen,

Go sleep the cold months all away and wake up really lean!

Sometimes, I think a great gazelle, cause they run really fast,

Or perhaps a spotted cheetah. Watch as I blow past!

An eagle flying overhead and looking down on all?

Would you choose an elephant? Or something rather small?

Now here’s the point that I would make: A bug’s NOT on the list,

At the bottom of the food chain, they’re the ones that just exist,

Look at all the ants! We humans see them as a pest,

And do the things we can to kill or tear apart their nests,

Getting squished or poisoned if they stray beyond their grounds,

So they try hard to live their lives where they cannot be found.

Is it any wonder that an ant I would not be?

I’m sure you see my point and likely with me you agree…

But here’s a thought I had not factored in the very least,

Though the ant is very small, he is a hearty beast,

And every one can carry ‘most a hundred times their weight,

In food and lots of yummy stuff, to put upon their plate,

And then the thought struck me: In food, a HUNDRED TIMES MY WEIGHT?

I’ll be an ant. Watch out! I’m heading for the choc-o-late!

Karen asks, "Write for me, please?"We write because she's the Bee's Knees!And we love her, you know that’s true,So this is what we writers do . . .We craft a poem based on a theme,With pencils, sharp, and eyes agleam,Each month we write and have such funWe can't wait for another one,Sooo...this month, how well did I do?Please go and see the others, too:
BakingIn A Tornado
Messymimi’sMeanderings           

Fairly Effective Imagination

I'm trying not to choke and gasp,
But Covid's got me in its grasp.
My brain is just a little dense,
I’m praying that this poem makes sense!

When I was young, I loved the tub,

With rubber ducks and rub-a-dub,

For hours on end I’d splash and play,

Until my mom got in my way,

Cause once she came inside, I knew

My bath time moments numbered: few,

Soon it was time for me to leave,

The thought? It made me feel bereaved,

Who knew when next we two would meet,

With water, warm and claw-ed feet?

So I would slide as far away

As I could get. To my dismay,

My mom had other tricks that she

Employed most effectively,

Yep, she would simply pull the plug,

And her young daughter’d hit the rug, 

And shiver there, all wet and pink,

Even faster than you’d blink,

Cause daughter knew if she remained,

She’d go down as the water drained!

Now looking back, I see the flaws,

It never was to be, because,

E’en though I was a little thing,

I’d not fit through that bathtub ring!

 

When raising kids, it’s good to use

Imagination to induce,

And Mom? She put in tons of thought…

Then she used MINE an awful lot!

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Halloween or Knock-Knock schtick,Join us, see which one we pick!
Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...

Bathtubs (October 24) Today!

Halloween -or- your favourite Knock-Knock Joke (October 31) 

Oatmeal (November 7)Pickles (In or eating!) (November 14)Giving Thanks! (November 21)French Toast--or Breakfast (November 28)Mittens (December 5)Poinsettia -or- Potted Plants (December 12)Muffins (December 19)Candy Canes (December 26)

Saved by Reflexes

  Big Daddy. MY daddy's supreme herd champion.
Who does not feature in this story...
Early summer.The grass is green.
The birds are singing.
The earth smells sweet.
And the irrigation canal is empty.
It was time to bring the heifers, and their attendant ‘boyfriend’, home.
This was a relatively painless job considering that the youngest of the breeding stock were always wintered in the fields closest to the ranch buildings.
One simply had to walk out, circle the small field once, and start the herd moving.
They would find the corrals, and feed, without being directed. Usually.But between their pasture and our destination was . . . THE IRRIGATION CANAL.
A vast expanse some forty feet wide and twenty feet deep which snaked across the countryside and our ranch. Spanned by a sturdy little bridge.
A sturdy little . . . sideless bridge.
At high summer, this canal was full - sparkling clear water nearly reaching the supports of the bridge. At this time of year, the floodgates had not yet been opened and it wasn't.
Full, that is.
Except for the large, nasty rocks at the bottom. . .
To head from the pasture to the corral, one had to make a slight right turn immediately after crossing the bridge.
A left turn took one to the house and its attendant outbuildings and, eventually, the main road.
Right was what we wanted.
Left was what we got.In an effort to turn our misdirected herd, I started threading myself between large, warm hairy bodies, working my way forward as quickly as I could by the shortest route possible--through the herd.
On a 20-foot-wide bridge.
I had worked my way almost to the leaders.
I noticed a vacant spot at the extreme left of the bridge. I made for it.
At the same time as the 2000-pound bull.
We collided.
He won. I bounced off that red hide like a blue-jean-garbed tennis ball. 
Suddenly, I was teetering at the extreme edge of the bridge, staring down at the large hungry rocks. They and their willing partner – gravity. They...beckoned.
Oh, this is going to hurt! I told myself.
Then, the author of my misfortune stalked past me.
2000 pounds of perfect, red-blooded, oblivious muscle.
With a tail.
A tail.Before he could take the fatal step that moved him forever out of my reach, my hand shot out and nabbed that . . . appendage. That glorious, wonderful, life-preserving (rather smelly) tail.
Then I turned to stare down at those rocks.
Which slowly lost their hypnotic grip as each step my oblivious rescuer took pulled me further . . . and further.
Away.
I clung to that tail until I was safely across the bridge.
By this time, the herd had seen the corrals--and other cattle--and were heading in the correct direction.
Success was within our sight.
There was only one other problem to be solved.
Someone had to help Daddy up.
He had laughed himself into the dirt.
Again.
Sigh.

Near Misses

Daddy, Big Brother George. And me.
I'm the one in the curlers...
Near Misses:

1. When I was just two, Bobby the Cow (the queen of the barnyard) and I had a disagreement. I lost. Turns out she hates children. Who knew?

2. Did you know that mothers are capable of scaling a 100 foot TV tower in mere seconds? They just need toddler-at-the-top motivation. True story.

3. When butchering chickens, it’s probably best if four-year-olds remain somewhere out of the picture. Chicken heads have been known to cause varying degrees of trauma.

4. Chicken-traumatized children would also much rather wrestle 1500-pound bulls than venture into the dreaded chicken house to retrieve eggs from underneath 3-pound bundles of nastiness.

5. Graduation from one’s pony to one’s brother’s spritely gelding may not be all that wonderful. Though it may guarantee a medical emergency ride on Dad’s amazing stallion.

6. When vaccinating calves, always remember the large crossbar of the cattle squeeze. And remember, too, to always look up. Believe me, your nose will thank you.

7. When crossing the barbed-wire fences on a ranch, long pants and good balance are a necessity. Although impressive thigh-to-ankle scars make for a good story…

8. Okay, this wasn’t me, but I heard and it’s still a good lesson: Even from the distance of the house roof, don’t pee on the electric fence.

9. When moving a cow herd across sideless bridges, make quite sure there is a bull’s tail in the immediate vicinity. Your bones will bless you. And it.

10. It’s important to note that even polled (hornless) cow heads are capable of significant damage when they meet human heads. Just ask my traumatized mother. Or me.

Today’s post is a writing challenge. Each month one of the participating bloggers picks a number between 12 and 50. All bloggers taking part are then challenged to write using that exact number of words in their post either once or multiple times. 

This month’s word count number is: 28It was chosen by: Mimi! 

Links to the other Word Counters posts:

Baking In A Tornado  

Messymimi’s Meanderings   

Pass the Bruschetta!

Italian food, I love! It’s true!

But picking one specific? Oooo!

How does one choose which dish to eat?

With Pizza, spicy; Nougat, sweet?

Spaghetti’d wake me from the dead,

When paired with some Focaccia bread,

Some Ravioli would be nice,

Or how about Risotto (rice!),

Or Pasta Carbonara, yum!

With Panna Cotta’d please my tum!

Bruschetta start and Gnocchi end,

Then Tiramisu ‘tween us friends?

Some Cannoli? Give me lots!

All topped with Marinara sauce!

Or Tortellini, grab a fork,

I love it stuffed with cheese and pork!

But try to choose just one? I’m stumped,

All these and more would get me pumped!

So...

My memorable Italian ‘spree’?

Any one someone makes for me!

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Bathtubs, we'll discuss next week,Joins us--it'll be worth a peek!
Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...

Most Memorable Italian Meal (October 17) Today!

Bathtubs (October 24)

Halloween -or- your favourite Knock-Knock Joke (October 31) 

Oatmeal (November 7)Pickles (In or eating!) (November 14)Giving Thanks! (November 21)French Toast--or Breakfast (November 28)Mittens (December 5)Poinsettia -or- Potted Plants (December 12)Muffins (December 19)Candy Canes (December 26)

Fire-d

Well, I was right. Mom and Dad are pregnant!

Mom is pretty excited. I mean, she had Sally and me 10 months apart over 18 years ago. I guess she’s been secretly thinking her family was incomplete.

Who knew?

But Dad? Dad is completely OVER THE MOON!

You’d have to see it to believe it—this former crusty old Major all googly-eyed over baby stuff.

But I suspected he had a soft spot somewhere in his makeup. I mean, he did deliberately join our family. Even after he’d met Sally.

Speaking of Sally, I should probably tell you that Sally and Mort are still in Munich. I think they are due home any time.

It’s been…quite peaceful. Even a bit...shall I say it? Boring.

Until today.

Dad has been totally obsessed with helping Mom with everything. Baby shopping. Exercising. He and Mom came back from their new favourite walking trail with him carrying her like a prized poodle because he was afraid she'd gotten too tired (but that is another story!) He even insists on going to Mom’s doctor appointments. I think it’s totally sweet.

They just got back from one.

A doctor's visit, that is.

Peter and I were making supper when they walked in. Well, Peter was. I was abuse-ing some craft materials in an effort to make a little scarecrow decoration for Halloween. I looked at them, standing there just inside the front door. “Supper’s almost ready.”

They merely nodded. Mom--smiling. Dad--not. 

Dad helped Mom take her coat off and hung it up for her. Then the two of them walked over to the couch and sat down.

Now, normally, this wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. I mean, it was fairly normal behaviour, am I right?

But neither of them was saying anything.

Anything.

And Dad seemed to be holding Mom’s hand with greater…intensity…than usual.

I set down the glue gun I’d been holding.”Okay. Out with it.”

They looked at me.

“Your Dad’s a hero,” Mom said quietly.

I smiled at Dad (who was now shaking his head) and thought about his bravery in joining our family and making Mom so happy. “He’s already a hero to me,” I told them.

“No,” Mom insisted. “He really is a hero.”

I abandoned my crafts and moved closer, sitting in the chair opposite the couch.

Peter shut off the heat under the soup he had been stirring and joined us.

Mom, her fingers tightly entwined in Dad’s, leaned forward. “There was a fire at the Doctor’s office!”

Dad groaned and put his head back against the cushions.

I stared at Mom. “Whaaat?”

She nodded. "It’s totally true. A fire.” She looked at Dad. "And your dad put it out!”

I turned to him. “Seriously?”

I’ve seen him blush before, so I know what it looks like.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Well, that’s great!” Peter said.

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Um…no.” 

Mom sat there, smiling at him. He was staring at the floor.

Neither of them were saying anything.

Mom put her head on his shoulder. “And he saved everyone!” She squeezed his hand, then got up and headed toward the hallway. “I need the bathroom,” she said, unnecessarily.

Dad looked at us after she had closed the door. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life,” he said.

“So…what happened?” I asked.

Dad’s blush got darker.

Okay, this was really strange.

“Umm…Dad?”

He sighed. “Well…actually, I started the fire.”

Okay, I hadn’t been expecting this. “Seriously?” I asked again.

He nodded. “Your Mom couldn’t…well…it was dark in the corner where she was sitting and she was having a hard time reading her magazine and I thought…maybe I should move the light over for her. So I did. But I pulled too hard and the cord ripped out of the plug. And it spit sparks all up the wall and it…actually It was pretty spectacular. Suddenly the whole wall was aflame! And there was stupid me, with my jacket, beating out the flames.”

“But you put the fire out, Uncle Pete,” Peter protested.

He rolled his eyes. “After I started it.”

I smiled at him. “A true ‘Sally’ moment,” I said. I got up and crossed the floor, then gave him a big hug. “Dad? You wanna know something? You fit right in!”

Today’s post is a writing challenge. Participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post—all words to be used at least once. All the posts are unique as each writer has received their own set of words. And here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now. 

My words:  scarecrow ~ abuse ~ walking trail ~ poodle were sent to me, via Karen, from my good friend, Rena! Thank you, my friend!

Now see what my friends have done with their words!

BakingIn ATornado     
TheDiary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver 
Climaxed  
Part-timeWorking HockeyMom