Archive for September, 2013

“Did you see the picture of Fanny’s son in the paper?”

I nodded, then added, “He has a very small head.”  It looked freakishly small as I recalled.

Mom glanced at me and frowned at this.  “I just don’t see Fanny in him at all.”

“No, I don’t either,” I agreed.  “His wife’s head is twice the size of his.”

“Why do you keep talking about his head?  I didn’t see anything wrong with his head.”

I thought, how could you not notice this?  It was their wedding photograph, a formal portrait in a garden setting.  Our local paper ran these weekly.  In an effort to fill up a page, they were always sizeable replications.  I remembered wondering how funny it would be to see them kissing.

Mom scooped up the celery she had been dicing for potato salad.  “I’ll have to say something nice about it to Fanny when I see her.  I’ll have to think of something.”

“Tell her his new wife is lovely.”  She certainly wasn’t, but she wasn’t so bad that Fanny could accuse Mom of lying.

“Yes, she’ll like that.  Gracious, he doesn’t look anything like Fanny.  I still can’t get over that.”  She opened the mayonnaise and said, “You know, no one knows who his father is.  Fanny would never say…not even after all these years.  Maybe his father had a tiny head.”

These are the kinds of conversations I have with my mother.


Update on Pick A Story:  Soon to be determined.  None of the options have more than one vote each as of today.


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Pick a Story

Okay, it’s 3:30 am, and I am plagued by insomnia again.   This often means I have a sad, tortured tale just wanting to spill out of my head and onto the page, and this is the case.  But – I am not going to burden you with it just now.  I think I have overdone that genre of late.  My earlier followers are probably wondering what in the world has become of the funny Kathy…the one who wrote interesting and humorous stories.  I have decided to give you an entirely different offering tonight…something I have never done before, and depending on the response, may never do again.  This could be your only chance.  Your one and only.

You pick the story.  I will write it.  I am giving you five options to choose from, and I have little or no idea just now what I will write for two of them.  Two choices will be fiction, three are derived from my real, frenetic life.  I am not going to tell you which is which.  If you wish to make a selection, simply post a comment letting me know your preference.  If I have no consensus after a few days, I will choose.  Do you really want that???

1.  “I want a divorce.  I’m in love with the cook.”

2.  “I told you not to let that dog out.”

3.  “It was an invasion.”

4.  “You’re not getting paid enough to do this.”

5.  “Let’s do the Billy Goat Trail.”

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If any of you are unaware of this simple cure for itches, keep reading.  I have been doing this since I was young…learned it from my father, Bud.  If you have bug bites or poison, apply the hottest water you can stand to the area for a few minutes.  You can apply scalding hot compresses or just run hot water from a faucet over your arms or legs.  It feels good, really good, even exquisite, while you are doing it.  After a brief couple of minutes, the itching will be relieved for several hours.  I also apply a cool cortisone cream after I do this…helps even more.

I was in DC on July 27 and was fed upon by tiny, tiny zebra mosquitos.  They and the tiny tiger mosquitos are truly vicious. The itch has been horrible and after six weeks (seriously) these bites were finally starting to fade away.  So as not to miss the relief of clear skin, I showed a house this past Sunday that had been flea bombed.  In fairness, the listing agent did warn there could still be a problem.  That’s how he put it.  Well, folks wanted to see it, and undaunted, I walked in.  I didn’t see anything jumping around in there and imagined we would be fine.  The next night at 4:00 am, I was sitting on the side of my tub with a washcloth and scalding water pouring from the tap.  Repeated as needed.

I always knew this worked but didn’t know why and decided to Google.  Basically I found that it desensitizes the nerves and improves blood flow to the area.  This causes the histamine that is released to be diluted and broken down.  Plus, it feels great.

Caution, this will not work on sunburn and should not be attempted.  It will worsen the situation.  You want something cool on sunburn.

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In remembrance of September 11, 2001, I am reposting my photograph of the field in Shanksville where our brothers and sisters fought and died to protect their country.  I took this about a year after that day when the make-shift, temporary memorials were there and more moving to see than any official structure could ever be.

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In the course of our days and lives, we meet thousands of people.  Some are easily forgotten, some linger on in our day-to-day existence and some leave their permanent mark on us, even if we may only spend a day together.  Why do we experience instant connection with some people while others remain on the periphery?  They may act the same as others, speak in the same ways, visually not stand out in any particular way, but we feel good in their presence, laugh easily together, empathize and rejoice and are simpatico.

I’m not talking about love at first sight, and I’m not talking about a sexual expectation or any type of attraction in that vein.  Rather, this feeling transcends anything of this nature and is purely and only a type of caring or love such as you would have for a close family member.  An instant best friend who you quickly and readily share thoughts, ideas and secrets with.  You are, above all, comfortable together and trusting, with little or no justification except that you just know it is right and safe.

We’ve all experienced this.  I’m sure I’m not alone, and I’ve wondered how or why this happens?  Some people believe it is our souls that connect…that we were, in fact, close in some other realm or time – that we are, in a sense, meeting not for the first time at all.  I don’t really have a better explanation, but it is fascinating to consider.  I do believe we have two bodies – a physical one and a spiritual one.  God tells us the spiritual body never dies.  We obviously go somewhere when we are released from all physical restraints.  Perhaps we are off making new friends or meeting old ones again.  Perhaps these people are placed in our paths on earth because it was planned.

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Elan Mudrow



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