Taking Maggie to obedience training school once week was a lot of fun for both of us and she really enjoyed being with all the other dogs. She knew exactly where we were going and got so excited each week to go to The Best Behaved Dog Academy.
She caught on quite fast and I was told by one of the instructors that once a Newf learns how to do something they’ll always remember what they’ve learnt and not to make them practice too much or they’ll get bored very quickly and lose focus.
Everyday we’d go across the street to the park and practice what we’d learned.
After class one day one of the instructors Gail Bishop who owned the dog kennels where we trained asked me if I’d like to come and work at the kennels with her and she’d teach me everything she knew and also teach me how to groom.
I started working there the very next day and I have to say it was one of the most full filling jobs I’ve ever had.
The lights dimmed slowly as the caretaker of the museum was locking everything up for the night. Everyone had gone home except for him. Mr. Whipple loved this alone time. The room that he believed was his was at the back of the building. It was actually a room that was used for storage of miscellaneous things. No one knew but he secretly slept here quite often.
On this particular night he stood at the Dutch door gazing in. He was thinking that it might be a good time to give his room a once over as the cobwebs were abundant.
Startled by an image of a woman standing off to the side of him he gasped. Was he really seeing a ghost?
“Mother is that you?”
“Yes my son, I’ve been hanging around here waiting for you to stop by. You should be ashamed of yourself for the state of this room. I suggest you get busy tonight and get it spic and span clean as it’s not fit for anyone to live in.”
Outside, it was rainy, weather, you didn’t want to be out in. Inside this little bar was a different story. The place was packed, the drinks flowing. A guy tapped me on the shoulder asking if they could use my phone. Pointing to the front door I said there’s a payphone right there. Looking confused, I said, come on, I’ll show you how to use it.
It’s flash fiction time again over atCarrot Ranch. In 99 words (no more, no less) write a short story using the phrase “Beggars Can’t Be Choosers” To see more about this challenge head on over to the ranch. Hope to see you there.
What’s for dinner Mom?
You won’t like my answer, but we are having roasted chicken, broccoli, rice, and a Caesar salad.
Oh great, chicken again. I hate chicken and you know that.
Chicken is what’s on sale this week, and you know that we don’t have a lot of money right now. It’s funny how you will eat Popeye’s chicken and Wild Wing but you give me a hard time every time I make it.
I don’t know why; I just don’t like homemade chicken. Never have.
You know what I always tell you, dear, beggars can’t be choosers.
verb (used without object),tem·po·rized,tem·po·riz·ing.
to be indecisive or evasive to gain time or delay acting.
to comply with the time or occasion; yield temporarily or ostensibly to prevailing
opinion or circumstances.
to treat or parley so as to gain time (usually followed by with).
to come to terms (usually followed by with ).
to effect a compromise (usually followed by between ).
10. Heiligenschein (German for “halo” or “aureola”, pronounced [ˈhaɪlɪɡənˌʃaɪn]) is an optical phenomenon in which a bright spot appears around the shadow of the viewer’s head in the presence of dew. In photogrammetry and remote sensing, it is more commonly known as the hotspot.)
Back in the 1960s life was not as complex as it is right now, people were not in a rush all the time, speech no matter who was talking, man, woman, or child was a lot easier to understand compared to the unknown language that teens use today.
Back then we played tag, now we tag photo’s, stories, articles, use it quite a bit on social media and so forth.
I’ve many good memories of the ’60s as I lived with my grandparents.
As I look back today my grandmother must have had a heiligenschein around her head as she was the kindest, gentlest, most loving person I’ve ever met. She was a svelte woman with beautiful curls and I’m sure one that could win a beauty contest, hands down.
She was always trying to get me to temporize the death of my mother and she would insert stories of her every chance she got bouncing them off me in many of the conversations we had.
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A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents. I should be incapable of drawing a single stroke at the present moment; and yet I feel that I never was a greater artist than now.