Monday, September 27, 2010

Whine And Dine...

"Doctor, can you help me?"
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Writer's Block. I can't seem to get my funny on."
"Ahh, yes, that could be a problem."
" what can I do about my writing drought?"
"I don't know--can't think of a thing."
Big help...

I need an elixir of Rodney Dangerfield, with a double
shot of Woody Allen and Carl Hiaasen--something
I can't get at Blue Martini!
Some people are dripping with humorous anecdotes
and one-liners, with little effort, it seems.

I could make fun of myself, I suppose.
Tom's been calling me peg-leg.
I've become glued to my sofa lately--not by choice.
I fractured my ankle recently.

I'd rather be outside in the pool, enjoying the
hot Florida sun, or on the Las Vegas trip we
had to cancel this week.

So, I've been following orders to stay off my feet.
I'm getting into the Cleopatra routine: Enjoying
being waited on hand and foot--pardon the pun.
More fruit, maybe a sweet tea, please.

I haven't been through a drive-thru in a long time.
Maybe I'll get Jen to take me this week--though,
with the luck that's been hitting me over the last
few months, I'd probably wind up with an 'unhappy' meal!
But I digress.

With a collective heave I hoist myself from the sofa,
clogging my way to the kitchen to grab the Dustbuster.
Cleo left her cookie crumbs between the cushions--
which has taken on the shape of her bum...

Friday, September 10, 2010

Brain Warp--Rebooting...

I've been sucked into creative quicksand.
Sitting on the sofa, glancing out to the back
I'm waiting for an instant spark of
something funny
to tickle the dormant folds
of my usually witty brain.

This on and off period of writing has been the
bout of writer's constipation I've ever
It hasn't helped that I'd been
sidelined by a 'locked'
back, and most recently
by an injured ankle--thanks
to a misplaced tool box.

I've been watching The Weather Channel, and
of the whirling dervish spin-offs dancing off

Most seasoned Florida residents have
accustomed to the over-hype--the
of the weather men who can't
wait for a
tropical storm to hit the coast so they
can valiantly
smack-dab themselves right in the
middle of the event...

Every year the hurricane predictors say we're in
for an extremely active season. I just took stock
of my hurricane closet: 2 cases of Sam's water,
some cans of soup, paper plates and cups and
ware,dry foods, as well as 2 propane
camp stoves and enough
propane canisters.

I also have 3 loaves of duck bread-- I've had to
stock up since Cruiser is bringing her ducky friends
to the house.
If you are a new reader of my blog,
Cruiser is a sweet
Muscovy duck who chose our
house to visit everyday.

She's been cruising around the yard from the
for over a year. Only recently, Cruiser's
brought along
Whitey--and occasionally, another
duck we've
not named yet. They are both bread fiends...

Out back there's a swale, a flooded river running
along the width of grass. A couple of weeks ago
spotted catfish spiraling out from the ground
the water, swimming quickly, then 'walking'
into the woods,
like something out of a Stephen King novel.

So, here I am, molting, waiting for a simmering
idea to
boil over, watching tiny lizards and a frog
scoot close to the pool's

There's a water bowl outside for the ducks.

There was an Indigo snake coiled over the
a few weeks ago, sipping away...

Oh, I see two bobbing heads coming around the
side of the lanai enclosure, like clockwork.
Whitey and Cruiser are peeking over at me
the plants...

Gotta go feed of the wild!