The White Stuff

Those of you who know me know that I am not a fan of winter.  Not one little bit.  It’s cold and dark and slippery…especially here in Maine.  Ok, I’m falling down the rabbit hole of winter misery and that’s not where I want to go.  On the contrary…

It snowed last night and I’m not going to whine about it.  It wasn’t our first snow…that happened in October….the week after we had temps in the 80’s, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  Last night we got more than a dusting of the white stuff.  Even so, I’m going to take the high road and not whinge on interminably.  Yes, you read that right.  I am not going to complain about the cold weather.   I’ll just wait here quietly while you let that soak in.  “Let the Ice Man Cometh” and all of that.  That might not be the best reference to use since that play had a lot of racial and political aspects.  Let the Abominable Snowman Cometh!  Emphasis on the abominable part.  Yeah, that’s better.

I bet you are wondering why I am filled with so much tolerance toward the cold months to come.  It’s a fair question considering I’ve been known to fantasize about strangling snow-lovers with their very own scarves.  I have a very good reason for reigning in my abhorrence of all things related to winter.  We had the best summer ever.  Sooo many days of temps in the 80’s and above.  It was glorious!!!

Never let it be said that I have no sense of fairness.  It might be tough to take, now that the glory days are over, but I have to give the weather gods their due.

Besides, the carpenters are starting to build the garage on Monday.  I won’t have to walk in the snow to get to the car.  No more slipping on ice in my own driveway!

The summer WAS really nice.  But in the spirit of full disclosure, maybe I should have mentioned that whole garage thing right up front, huh?  😉

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Guest in Jest #70 Silently Smouldering Words

Linda Snogged a Toad

Linda and I

We strolled down the road

We saw lots of roses

And one small green toad.

Don’t touch it!

I cried,

It’s all slimey and yuck!

And Linda said Fiery, I think he’s good luck!

Rolling my eyes, I indulged her in this

And then the toad said,

Whassup, ladies? Kiss kiss!

Stunned and amazed, we looked down at ol’ toad

Then looked at each other…

Well, Linda looked bold…

I’m going to do it!

A Prince he may be!

And I said,

Go ahead, love…rather you than me!

So she planted a good one, a sloppy great smack!

And ol’toady transfromed to Princess (great rack)

One wish I can grant you both,

This Princess said,

And we turned to each other and nodded our head…

“I wish dearest Princess,” said Linda the Brave, “That this Guest in Jest lark, will last and be saved!”

Your wish shall be granted, said Boobies Galore

And waved her pink wand,

We could not ask for more.

The moral here isn’t that Linda loves toads,

But we love Guest In Jest

So send her more!

Loads!

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #70

 

Please join us tomorrow…

 

THIS WEEK’S  “GUEST IN JEST” GUEST IS:  Silently Smouldering Words

Join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

PLEASE SUBMIT YOUR GUEST POSTS TO MAINEPAPERPUSHER@YAHOO.COM AND THEY WILL BE PUBLISHED IN ORDER OF SUBMISSION EVERY FRIDAY HERE AT EVERYONE ELSE HAS THE BEST TITLES

 

HERE ARE THE RULES:

Give us some info about your blog.  Make sure to add a link to it.

Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.

Pictures optional, but encouraged.

The post can be one that has been posted before.

Multiple submissions are encouraged!

The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, a video…even something as simple as a joke.

C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

Did Ya Do It?

DISCLAIMER:  This is about politics.  I promise it’s nonpartisan.

 

For all of my American friends here, I just have to know:  “Did ya do it?”  Did you vote?  If you didn’t, are you going to?  If you didn’t, and there is still time, I dare you to do it!

I always vote.  It’s a big deal, and not just because I get to pick between candidates or have a say on this referendum or that.  It’s a big deal because I CAN vote.  There are a lot of places in this world where it’s not allowed and that’s sad.

I know, sometimes it seems like our choices are less than ideal but that is, in some part, because we didn’t vote in the primaries.  Are you seeing a theme developing here?

I think we’re lucky here in Maine.  I’m proud of the fact that my state has a Republican senator who sometimes wants to work with the Democrats and our other senator is an Independent who has a Democratic bent but is also somewhere in the middle.  Not all states are so fortunate.  We won’t talk about my House Rep race because it’s been vicious.  I hate that.

I also hate the fact that many politicians can’t work together.  I think most people feel the same way, no matter what party they are registered under.  In a perfect world, for me at least, candidates would run on their own merit and not be judged by party affiliation.  Sigh…I know it’s just a pipe dream…and it will never happen.  But it didn’t keep me from voting.  The referenda alone made it worthwhile.

No matter who you support, no matter what party you lean toward, I hope you voted. Hey, maybe you even got a cool sticker you can be proud to wear!

 

download-2

 

Guest in Jest Bonus Edition! Biff Sock Pow

Biff, over at Biff Sock Pow graciously offered to contribute this post to Guest in Jest.  Since it is Halloween-themed, I didn’t want to wait another day before posting it.  So we get a bonus edition today!  Biff’s blog is hilarious and his Alistair and Alexis series just tickles my funny bone no end.  I am so very happy that I can share it with you here.

Alistair and Alexis —  in — “The Haunted Belfry”

A&A Halloween 01

 

I tore into the kitchen at a high rate of speed and slid on the highly polished tiles right up to my beautiful Alexis, light of my life, queen of my heart, pumpkin spice of my latte.

She seemed oblivious to the fact that I was worked up nearly into a full doo-dah because of the horror that was unfolding in our very own house.

She was wearing a festive Halloween apron and humming to herself as she applied orange icing to two dozen cinnamon nutmeg cupcakes using a buttering knife.  She seemed unphased by her husband nearly caroming into her.

“Oh, hello, Darling,” she said, smiling up at me.  “I’m sorry, but you can’t have a cupcake.  These are for the Halloween party tonight.”

“There’s no time for cupcake talk, my sweet honeysuckle blossom.”

“Isn’t there?” she asked, apparently distracted by icing a particularly recalcitrant cupcake.  “I thought that’s why you came running in here so fast.  I figured you smelled them from all the way upstairs.”

I shook my head emphatically.

“I’ve no wish to cause you undue panic,” I said in an attempt to keep her calm, “But we have bats in our belfry.”

“And by we,” she said, coolly icing another cupcake, “I assume you mean that you have bats in your belfry.”

“According to the community property laws in our state, I mean that we, collectively … to wit: you and I … together forming the insoluble duo of Mr. and Mrs. Callington of Meandering Pheasant Lane, have bats in our collective belfry.”

“But that sort of thing runs on your side of the family, not mine,” she said, setting down her most recent iced cupcake, and licking a bit of orange icing off of the back of her hand, and picking up another cupcake to ice.

“I am not speaking metaphorically or euphemistically,” I said.  “I am speaking about our house.  Our house has bats in the belfry.”

“Our house doesn’t have a belfry,” she said, frowning a bit as she concentrated on putting just the right amount of icing artistically on the cupcake in her hand.”  Then she added, apropos of nothing, “Would you like to put the googly eyes on the cupcakes I’ve already iced?”

“Damn their googly eyes,” I said spiritedly.

“Language, Darling!” she said, never looking up from her cupcake.

“Sorry, Dearest,” I said, stooping to kiss her cheek (and to lick off a bit of orange icing that had somehow come to rest there).  “I quite forgot myself due to the aforementioned bats in our belfry.  But to answer your question; yes, nothing would make me happier than to put googly eyes on your cupcakes.”

She glanced up at me warily.  “You do know I am referring to these cupcakes, here on the counter?”   She indicated the tray of cupcakes with her buttering knife.

“Of course, my delicious buttercup.  What did you think I was referring to?”

She just smiled her adorably cute little crooked smile and resumed her icing.

“Just checking,” she said.

I sighed and opened the packet of little edible googly eyes, which, according to the package, are not a significant source of vitamins A, B, C, or D, nor, ironically, of beta-carotene.

I began eyeing the cupcakes.

“Returning to the topic of bats,” I said, “Which we seem to have strayed quite a distance away from …”

“No,” she said, reaching over to the cupcake that I’d just given the gift of sight to, “Don’t put them on opposite sides like that.  They’re not hammerhead sharks.   Like this …”

She moved one eye over closer to the other.  She then smoothed out the icing where she’d popped out the eye.

“Much better,” I agreed.  “That will probably will help the little fellow quite a bit with his depth perception.”

She giggled and resumed icing the cupcake in her hand while I continued eye-balling the already-iced cupcakes, using the first one as an eye model.

“Anyway,” I continued.  “Re: bats in the belfry.  We seem to have acquired some.”

“But, like I said, we don’t have a belfry.”

“Sure we do,” I said.

“Where?” she asked, setting down her finished cupcake, applying fine adjustments to the eyes I’d just put into 2 or 3 cupcakes, and then picking up an un-iced cupcake to resume icing.

“Where most belfries are,” I said.  “Up on the roof.”

“You mean the cupola.”

“Do I?” I asked.  Even my latest cupcake goggled at me in surprise.

“I’m pretty sure you do.  Especially since we don’t have a belfry.”

“Well, it looks like a belfry,” I said defensively, eyeing another cupcake or two.

“Belfries have bells in them,” she said, continuing her icing.

“So maybe what we have,” I said, “Is a batfry.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes, doing a very good imitation of the newly-googly-eyed cupcakes that I was working on.

“No,” she said.  It is just an ordinary cupola.  There are no bells in it.”

She suddenly put her hand on her hip and made a perturbed “tsk!” sound.  She reached out and held up a cupcake that had a significant piece of it missing.

“Did you take a bite of this cupcake?” she asked.

“Moe,” I said, trying to unsuccessfully talk with a mouth full of cupcake.

“Darling!” she said admonishingly.  “There were for the party tonight.  Now we may not have enough.”

I swallowed.  “That’s cutting it rather close to the bone, isn’t it?  Not even having a single cupcake to spare?  What if one had dropped off the tray and made a run for it like the little gingerbread man of song and story?”

“And,” she said, examining the cupcake closer, “It only has one eye.”

“Oh?” I asked.  “That explains the crunchy bit.  Perhaps we can make it a little eye patch out of licorice or something.”

“We’re not going to set it out for company, Silly!” she giggled.  “It has a bite out of it.”

“No one will notice if we disguise it with an eye patch.  We will just call it our pirate cupcake.”

“I think the tooth marks may give away his disguise,” she said.

She pinched off a piece of the cupcake and held it up to my lips, which I gladly took.

“Yummy!” I said enthusiastically.

“Some of that was my finger,” she said, pulling back her hand suddenly and laughing.

“Yes, I know.  That was the yummy part,” I said.

“Well, no more cupcakes for you if you’re going to bite the hand that feeds you.”

I reached out and likewise took a pinch of the now mostly-gone cupcake and held it up to her lips.

“Turn about is fair play,” I said.  “Do your worst.”

She took the piece of proffered cupcake with her lips without nipping my fingers.

“You missed your opportunity,” I said, shaking my head and tsk-tsk’ing.

“The cupcakes were sweet enough as it is,” she said, her beautiful green eyes twinkling.  “I didn’t need you to make them any sweeter.”

I made a growling noise and swept my darling Alexis up into my arms, her legs draped over my right arm, and her back supported by my left arm.  She squealed loudly at suddenly finding herself off the floor, but she could do nothing about it because her hands were full, one with a buttering knife the other with a quarter of a cupcake.

“Careful!” she gasped.  “I have a knife!”

“Are you going to ice me?” I asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“No,” she giggled.  “But I’m thinking I may have to put you on ice.”

“Now tell me,” I said.  “Why do we have bats in our belfry?”

“Cupola,” she said.

“Okay, Missy.  Since you seem to have counted them.  Why do we have a cupola bats in our belfry?”

“Because I had a company come out and wire up the front drive, the portico, and the cupola for sound so we can play scary Halloween noises for all the trick-or-treaters.”

I eyed her keenly for a moment.

“Synthetic bats in our artificial belfry?”

“Yes,” she said, taking a swipe of orange icing off of the cupcake in her hand and reaching up to dab it on the tip of my nose.  “As artificial as the coloring in this icing.”

“Have I ever mentioned that you drive me batty?” I asked grinning at her.

“I’m pretty sure you were already batty before you met me.”

“And yet, you married me anyway.”

“You had a certain bat-like charm,” she said, smiling.

I kissed her cheek and whispered, “Would you care to join me in my belfry?”

“But what about the cupcakes?” she asked, nuzzling my cheek with hers.

“I don’t think there’ll be room for them in the belfry,” I said.

“Cupola,” she whispered.

“Okay, we can take a cupola cupcakes with us.  It’ll help keep our strength up.”

She bopped me lightly on the arm, giggling.

“No, Silly,” she said.  “I mean, I can’t just leave them out on the counter.  Something might happen to them.”

“They have eyes now,” I said.  “They can look out for themselves.”

And with that, I whisked her away from the cupcakes’ prying eyes.

 


 

Copyright ©2018 by Biff Sock Pow

Guest in Jest #69 Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

I can’t quite believe it, but 33 years ago today I married my long-suffering husband, Bill.  I’m not sure what you envisioned our wedding might be like, but I’d wager you’d be wrong.

Bill and I first met when he delivered my mail for a three weeks.  And then I moved.  Not because of him, mind you, but I like to tell him it was.  If you want the whole story of that meeting and whatnot, I actually wrote a post ages ago and called it Part 1 and then left it till now.  So I guess this is the second and final part.  Here’s the first post, in case you are curious.   How I Met My Husband Part 1

If you want to see the Prologue, here’s the link to that.  How I Met My Husband – The Prologue  Yes, there is a prologue.  Don’t ask me why there is a prologue because I don’t remember.  I started writing this whole mess over a year ago and I would have forgotten all about it except it’s now the second day of November and it’s exactly 33 years since I married the poor unfortunate man and it’s Guest in Jest day and I figured if I’m going to beg for posts, the least I could do was be my very own Guest…in Jest.  GASP  Sorry, that was pretty long-winded and I ran out of air.

When I left off this story I had just received an April Fools phone call from Bill, whom I’d only really communicated with via the backs of letters going to and from my Aunt Polly.  I know that sounds weird, but if you want to know why and how, you’ll have to click the link up there and get caught up.

Continuing the story, Bill and I decided to go on a date.  He picked me up that afternoon and we spent the day having a picnic by the river, talking, having dinner, talking some more, going to a movie, and talking more into the middle of the night.  It was one of those “I knew the first time I met him” sort of scenarios.  Actually, I knew the first time I met him and we talked for 10 hours sort of scenarios.  And that’s how I met Bill.

After four months of long distance (an hour apart) dating, we decided to live together.  This meant I had to move back to the area where I grew up.  I wasn’t terribly happy about that, but love conquers all, as they say.

Bill and I found this fabulous little apartment in Skowhegan.  It was an old house that had just been converted to apartments and all of the architectural details had been preserved.  It was a great place.  Who needs more than a bedroom, a kitchen and a living room?  We were happy and it wasn’t long before we started talking about getting married.  At this point it was six months after we first met.  I know it was fast.  But there was that whole “I knew the first time I met him” thing going on.  Still, we were in no hurry.

When we mentioned our intentions to Bill’s parents, his Mom went into full Mother-of–the-Groom mode.  If I looked into her eyes, I could practically see her calculating venue sizes and table plans.  Bill and I started to get nervous.  His family wasn’t rich, but they did fine and they were very well respected in the community.  Bill’s Mom wanted to make sure that our wedding was grand enough to impress not only friends and family, but a large part of the well-heeled portion of the community.  This was becoming a problem.

As each day went by, there was something new; another addition to the grandiose plan.  This train had left the station.  It was on the tracks and gaining steam.  We decided to let her go on planning because she couldn’t do anything concrete without our consent, right?  As the days passed, I started to worry about that, too.

While that was going on in the background, we decided to have a party to mark our first Halloween together.  We invited all of our friends.  It was going to be a lot of fun!  It was certainly something to take our minds off the ridiculous wedding plans.  I don’t even remember how many people she wanted to invite, but it was a lot.  Many of them Bill didn’t even know.  The social event of the season was going to star two very unhappy people.

We were talking about this debacle and then we looked at each other and it hit us.  We didn’t have to do any of those things.  It was our wedding and we could have what we wanted.  Right that minute we wanted to elope.  But where?  We couldn’t really take off for parts unknown when we had already invited people for the Halloween party and…then the lightbulb truly went off.  We would elope in our very own living room and the previously planned Halloween party would be our reception!

And that’s what we did.  Bill had a best man and I had a best woman.  Bill’s brother and his wife took pictures, and a friend of ours married us.  That was it.  We got married, went out to dinner, and then we came home and put on our Halloween costumes.  All of our friends arrived and as the party was in full swing we told everyone we were married!  yay!!!  They didn’t believe us.  Not a single one of them thought we’d actually done it.  It took a while to convince them, but we finally did.  But that wasn’t the end…

We still had to tell our parents what we’d done.  In full disclosure, I didn’t have to tell my Mom because I’d already told her what we planned to do.  She was always the ‘whatever makes you happy’ kind of person.  Even so, telling her she couldn’t come to our wedding was a big deal.  She knew what had been happening with Bill’s Mom, and that this was the most expedient way to stop the wedding freight train.  Like the saint she was, she agreed it was the best course of action.

So that left Bill’s parents.  It so happened that they were away for the weekend.  That was just a happy coincidence, but it meant we didn’t have to show up and tell them in person.  Bill made the call during the party.  When he came back he was smiling.  I was dying to know how it went. “WHAT HAPPENED!?” I yelled over the din.  He grinned and told me she said:  “I knew you’d do something like this!”

 

 

 

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #69

Please join us tomorrow…

 

THIS WEEK’S  “GUEST IN JEST” GUEST IS:  Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

Join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

PLEASE SUBMIT YOUR GUEST POSTS TO MAINEPAPERPUSHER@YAHOO.COM AND THEY WILL BE PUBLISHED IN ORDER OF SUBMISSION EVERY FRIDAY HERE AT EVERYONE ELSE HAS THE BEST TITLES

 

HERE ARE THE RULES:

Give us some info about your blog.  Make sure to add a link to it.

Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.

Pictures optional, but encouraged.

The post can be one that has been posted before.

Multiple submissions are encouraged!

The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, a video…even something as simple as a joke.

C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

Guest in Jest #68 Penny Wilson Writes

Twisted Spell

 

She studied lore and craft

Her heart’s desire to obtain.

 

She used bat’s wings and chants

And even a little wolfbane.

 

She locked him in a cage

And cast spells on him each night.

 

She summoned demons and beasts

And trolls by moonlight.

 

She took flight with Count Dracula

To learn of his secrets.

 

Nothing she tried seemed to work

Was this man her weakness?

 

Finally, defeated

She turned him loose one day.

 

She said “although I love you

You must be on your way”.

 

“Your love is what I’ve desired

But it can’t be earned like this.

 

Before you leave my home

Would you grant me just one kiss?”

 

He looked at her with kindness

And took her hand with care.

 

He pulled her close and kissed her

And then he gave her such a glare.

 

“Although I’ve kissed your lips most foul

You’ll not live to see another nightfall

 

I am a warlock casting my own spell

Turned you into a rat; quite small.”

 

Before his eyes, she shrank

And began to grow a snout.

 

She scampered away quickly

To look for a way out.

 

Before you cast a spell

On the one you’re sure you love

 

Be sure you mean as much to him

Not just a thing to be disposed of.

 

Copyright © 2018 Penny Wilson

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #68

Please join us tomorrow…

THIS WEEK’S  “GUEST IN JEST” GUEST IS:  Penny Wilson Writes

Join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

PLEASE SUBMIT YOUR GUEST POSTS TO MAINEPAPERPUSHER@YAHOO.COM AND THEY WILL BE PUBLISHED IN ORDER OF SUBMISSION EVERY FRIDAY HERE AT EVERYONE ELSE HAS THE BEST TITLES

 

HERE ARE THE RULES:

Give us some info about your blog.  Make sure to add a link to it.

Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.

Pictures optional, but encouraged.

The post can be one that has been posted before.

Multiple submissions are encouraged!

The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, a video…even something as simple as a joke.

C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?