BONE HEAD

I chose this photo of the author Anne Sexton to head my post because she's a dead ringer for my mother-in-law. Reason enough, me thinks.             

I think I’ve written on this subject matter before, but what the heck, I’m inclined to revisit the topic. I keep a folder on my desktop titled, “Possible Stories”, which is self-explanatory. When I find myself stumped for something to write about I go fishing around for ideas, opening the folder and looking for inspiration. Yesterday I came across a doc titled “Bone Head”. Hmm, I thought, that sounds interesting. So I clicked my mouse—that’s all there was though—those two mystifying words and no explanation of what direction to go in. What did I have in mind at the time when I saved those two words? For the life of me, I couldn’t recall. Did I find inspiration? Sadly, no. I couldn’t come up with a thing.

Moving right along, (I’m not one to dwell on something that isn’t sparking my interests or serving my needs, I clicked on another title. I chose “The Helpful One”. At least there was a sentence under the title. One lonely sentence that read: My sister Marty was favored by Mother because she was the helpful one in our family. Okay. What do I do with that? My brain wouldn’t light. Now, that’s not saying that at a future date I won’t come back and read those same words and not be inspired. It just didn’t fire my rockets yesterday.

The next interesting prospect had a much longer title, “Fred Won’t Ever Find That Rainbow”. My explanation for the story read like this: An ex wife is constantly putting down her husband to her children. They prefer him to her, and she knows it. She’s a bitter woman. Conversely, the father is a charismatic dreamer. Now this one had wings. Maybe because my mother was always putting down my father, even before they were divorced, and I felt as if I could sink my teeth right into this storyline. In my mother’s eyes the man couldn’t do anything right. And yet, other people admired Pop, they followed him, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that some even worshipped him. But good old Mom, she never missed an opportunity to disparage the poor guy. So, I’d found my story subject. Now it was up to me to craft something that people might find engaging and entertaining. Maybe by reading my story they might even learn something.




All Rights Reserved. © 2009 by Elizabeth Bradley.

Fizzy Water Has No Calories

Living on a diet of fizzy water, bites of saltines, and what tiny scraps I’ve been able to keep down, I’m happy to report there’s a good side to being so ill! I’ve lost three pounds. I’m sure the fevers and chills alone fueled a massive calorie burn.

I’m a bit wonky on my feet today…but (and I say this with some trepidation) I do feel better. Not so sick in my stomach, my head doesn’t ache all that much, a considerable improvement. I won’t be swimming, but I may be able to walk the dogs for the first time in three days (The Husband has been filling in, what a sweetheart) and hopefully I can repay him by cooking something nice for dinner. He’s been making due with leftovers, and once they were gone the poor guy was forced to resort to canned soup.

The other day I was standing in line waiting to purchase some rapid-release Tylenol geltabs at the grocery store, and I happened to look over the cover of one of those silly gossip magazines, and the headline claimed that Jessica Simpson had lost 10lbs in 10 days, or was it 7lbs in 7 days? Anyway, I was pretty delirious, so don’t quote me on the facts or lack thereof. I’m sure that rag was lying. They can print any old damn thing they want. Can you imagine, having cameramen chasing you down, taking unflattering pictures of your ass in compromising positions? I’ve noticed that they like to shoot celebrity women as they attempt to climb out of their cars, as they bend over to do something, you get the picture. My daughter says they wanted to be famous so they deserve what they get. I don’t go along with that. They should be allowed to have a private life. Maybe Jessica just had the flu.


All Rights Reserved. © 2009 by Elizabeth Bradley.

What A Drag

I feel awful. Seriously awful. I have a sore throat, an earache, and I didn't get much sleep because I kept having fever and chills. I tried to sit down and read my favorite blogs but the words are getting all furry. Words aren't supposed to be furry. I tried to eat a toast but my stomach feels like it used to when I was six weeks pregnant. Like I'm about to hurl. So I'm signing off. My three dogs, (okay that's not us in the picture, I would never tie that thing around my head to get their attention) are concerned, they always know when I'm sick and I think it scares them. If I die they know life will go to hell in a handbasket, I am their EVERYTHING. Oh well, fingers don't want to type, got to go get horizontal NOW.

All Rights Reserved. © 2009 by Elizabeth Bradley.