Quick insight into my maggie

Cat is not happy
not that food, PLEEEEEASE
stupid humans
time for nap

Mags does not like the food that I am feeding her. It's becoming a test of will.

fear is rot

empty out
veggie tray is overstuffed
tofu begs for use
almonds
sesame seeds
all waiting
to be heated
beaten
cut up
pulverized
smashed
ready for this
fear is rot

I made a lasagna last night without a recipe, and it was quite good (and I'm not the only who said so).

mind your tortillas

noise of children
counts down the day

shadows reach out
try to touch

mind your tortillas
something burns

My neighborhood smelled like something was burning this morning. It wasn't a building burning smell, but a food one. It blanketed a huge area.

DJPMUFA - Part Two

The next mornin’, Brooke’s momma made a full breakfast to celebrate the Twins…Almost’s … uh, triumph? The families gathered around the table and blessed the food to the nourishment of their bodies. Butter melted and flowed over the homemade buttermilk biscuits. Brooke forked a sausage straight from the serving dish to her mouth, causing both mommas to spit all three of her names out. Scrambled eggs were passed around and pancakes with syrup and gravy and Good Lord, this is making me hungry. Once all the items had made the rounds, everyone dug in. After only three bites, Wes’s momma lifted her coffee mug to her lips and sipped thoughtfully.

“Is there a drama club at y’all’s school?”

Wes started to answer.

“Honey, finish chewin’ and swallow before you talk. There’s no need for what you put in your mouth to be shown to everyone at the table.”

While Wes prepared to speak, Brooke’s momma agreed that a drama club was just what these children needed (their daddy's agreed too, but no one was listenin’ to them). It was the absolute perfect venue to channel all that creative energy. The school was well out of earshot of the neighborhood, but of course they didn’t say that.

“I’m not sure, Momma. I’ve never heard anyone mention it, and we read a play version of Peter Pan last year, remember? I read Wendy and Brooke read Nanny?”

“I should have ready Peter but Mrs. Johnson was relivin’ the time she played Peter in a park in Atlanta and had to fly by climbing up and jumping out of trees.”

“That’s right. Well, we need to find out. And if there isn’t one, we’ll just have to find out how y’all can start one.”

The plan was set. Breakfast finished with discussions of the day’s plans. Brooke and Wes were going to rehearse their routine. Their daddy’s were going to see if they could get a tee time or a check out the hardware store or go to the rifle range or hangout at Sears. The Mommas remembered they had a whole day of shopping to take care of and would the Twins…Almost be okay here by themselves?

“ABSOLUTELY!”
“Just … try to keep it down. For the neighbors.”

“We’ll try but we can’t make any promises.”

“When the Spirit moves you…”

“Yes. Well, try.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After everyone had showered, dressed and started their days, the Spirit most definitely visited the children and that Spirit moved and moved and moved them. The local mall had record sales and record amounts of loitering that day. It even beat the holiday rush. If they had known the cause, I’m guessing the two seven years olds could have been gainfully employed until at least their 8th birthdays running people out of their neighborhoods for the day.

So I'm going to keep working on this piece and posting more of the story. The coming parts will be only first or maybe second drafts, but I'll try to edit a whole story together once I have the whole thing out of my head and on to the computer screen.

habitat itchy breakfast

The ants gathered that morning outside of what was left of their mound. Constant vibration from somewhere nearby had flattened the conical shape they had spent months perfecting. They had finally found a place far from human children with their obsessive need to kick and pound ant homes and now this. They couldn't catch a break.

"We have to do something."

"What the hell is that noise?"

"The kids can't sleep."

"Queen is annoyed."

"I'm hungry."

"We have more things to worry about than your hunger, Abby."

"Let's just go see if we can find the problem."

They scattered from their home, taking in the environment through their antennae and leaving a scent trail behind them. Abby ran in to Jess, again, and then stealthily trailed Mya. She really didn't like being alone. The group generally headed northeast toward the construction site causing all of the noise and the destruction. It took them half of the day to travel the fifty feet to the chainlink fence with a sign announcing the construction of a new Habitat for Humanity home.

The seven ants marched in without a fearful thought. What's to fear when you have no idea what you'll find or how you'll stop the destruction of their home? With the vibrations now seeming to come from all directions and shaking their bodies, Abby lost track of Mya and struck out on her own. She was lifted off her six little feet for a moment when a truck drove by. She was close. She had to be. But she ran into an obstacle, something wooden. She tried to move the object and then simply started climbing it. Soon she was at another obstacle and had to climb that. Upside down, verticle and finally right side up. Forward until she found FOOD! Her scent trail changed to alert her friends of her find. The vibrations were a distant memory. Home was second place. Here was a meal. Abby picked up a blueberry muffin crumb and headed back off the picnic table. Jess and Mya were on the ground.

"Food. Follow my trail."

"What about the vibrations?"

"If we get food, does it matter?"

"Yes."

"C'mon. We can rebuild the mound. We've done it a million times, and we'll do it a million more, but there is a smorgasbord up there!"

Mya sighed. Really, what else could they do? They were ants. At least they could get a prize for their troubles, so they started up the table leg.

Jake needed a break. He had been hauling bags of concrete mix for an hour. A cup of coffee and another doughnut would definitely improve his mood. His boot squished the mud next to drink table, the print filling with dirty water. Once at the food table, he reached for a Boston Creme, his favourite.

"Dammit. Fucking ants."

He grabbed the ant spray from the end of the table, sent Jess and Mya flying off the table, and pushed the food away from the direction of the spray. The insecticide coated the top of the table and then went down the legs and on the ground around the entire food setup. Abby, unknowingly, made it to a safe zone and continued leaving her Food This Way scent trail.

Jake finished spraying the area, grabbed his doughnut and sat down. As he ate, his arms started itching. He grunted in frustration. Everytime he saw a bug, he would itch for hours thinking it was on him. Every. single. time.

"Fucking ants."

I had a co-worker give me three random words to inspire something. This story is the result.