Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Yes/No


According to Sunny, if you can answer yes to all of the questions, you're leading a pretty interesting life. I couldn’t answer yes to them all, but 16 out of 23 isn’t too bad.

Have you ever:

Shot a gun?  yes
Watched someone die?  yes
Served on a jury?  no
Flown on a plane?  yes
Swam in the ocean?  yes
Cried yourself to sleep?  yes
Been camping in a trailer/RV? yes
Rode on an elephant?   Yes
Rode on a camel?  yes
Been lost?  yes
Eaten just cookies or cake for dinner?   yes, this weekend
Been on TV?  yes
Been on the Radio?  yes
Been in a car accident?  yes
Donated Blood?  yes
Got a speeding ticket within the last 12 mos.?  no
Gotten a piercing (not ears)?  no
Gotten a tattoo?  no
Flew in a hot air balloon?  no
Flew in a helicopter?  no
Gone parasailing?  yes
Been on a jet ski, snowmobile or dune buggy?  yes

Written by PK at 6:30 PM

18 comments

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Now if everyone would stop talking at once!


Have you ever felt like you had so much to do you simply sit down and do nothing?  That’s been what my weekend's been like.  Now don’t think I’m talking about cleaning, or washing the car or planting flowers or anything constructive like that, oh no – it’s just that I have so many things in my head I want to write, they all seems to be crashing together and nothing it being accomplished. Help! I need someone to help me organize my thoughts and then help me set priorities.

I have several ideas for post I want to write here.  I have a fiction story I’ve been meaning to write for Fantasy Friday.  Cassie is telling me what’s going on in her life and I’d like to get that written up for her while at the same time I’m trying to edit a book about what she was doing six years ago.  I try mindblogging about one thought and suddenly it blends with another until I confuse myself.  I know, I know – first world problem, as Mollie would tell me, but it’s still a problem to me.

I am enjoying the peace and quiet of an empty house – Nick, LJ and Mollie are all off doing the things they enjoy the most, I have all the time in the world to write, yet all I can do it think of what I’m not writing. Quiet hours, not really – Badass and Wimpy are chattering, I’m thinking of the emails I’d like to send and the blogs I want to read and comment on, Cal and Megan are fussing because I haven’t continued their fictional story and of course there’s dear Cassie, my constant companion.  What am I supposed to do? I could get mad and walk out except for the fact they'd all come with me.

Ah well, I suppose my thoughts will sort themselves out in time. Let me bring you up on a couple of work related issues.  As the school year began I told you I was now teaching social studies, and that the curriculum for my grade had been changed to ancient civilizations.  And that was all we were told.  No new books, no curriculum guide, no further suggestions.  Next week we are having a statewide end of course test on this material, what material is that exactly you might ask?  Well if you do ask I hope you get a better answer than any of us did, which for the most part was simply a shrug. But they’ve written a test for the course.  So we asked, could we see a sample of the test so we’ll know what it was you wanted us to cover.  At least we got an answer – the answer was no.  Can you say frustration?

And one last thing, do you remember Miss T, one of my new partners?   A few weeks ago she just didn’t show up one day. Teachers just can’t do that and after calling and calling her apartment the principal and the custodian drove out to see if she was all right.  She was, it seemed that after a late night partying she was just overly tired and slept through her alarms and the subsequent phone calls.  Hmm… but, that’s not the strange part. Last Thursday she came up to Megan and me outraged that the perfect attendance list for teachers had come out and she wasn’t on it!  After all, she told us, she had only missed that one-day when she had over slept and she didn’t understand. Again, hmm… earlier this year we had to explain to this college graduate, this teacher with 6 years teaching experience, the difference between ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’ (she honestly did not know). I suppose now we’ll try to explain the definition of ‘perfect attendance.’  Some of this stuff you just can’t make up folks.

Written by PK at 5:30 PM

26 comments

Friday, April 26, 2013

Fantasy Friday - Founder's Day


Happy Friday!  This is a special weekend for me.  Part fun, part not.  This is Nick's 'golf' weekend, meaning I have the house all to myself.  I'll be honest after 29 years of marriage and two kid I really do love to have a weekend all to myself.  I can stay up way late, I love that.  I can write all weekend - I really love that, and I'll probably slip in a good dessert that I might not have if Nick was here, but by Sunday the house has gotten so very quiet and the bed is sooo lonely and cold.  I don't like that at all.  Three weekends a year is about all I need.  

Sunnygirl stepped up to help me this week - still no stories coming in from many others, so I really appreciate this Sunny.  As we've come to expect Sunny's stories are always great.  To read more of her work be sure and go by Aimless Rambling.  And now, please enjoy...



Founder's Day

Amy and Franklin Simpson were attending a conference in San Francisco.  Frank was a professor of Literature at a college near their home in Portland.  They had been married for thirty odd years and like most couples the passion they once had for one another had dimmed over the years.  This trip to San Francisco had them remembering how their relationship was at the start.  They were both students at UC Berkeley which, at the time, was a hotbed of political unrest among the young.  Dr. Timothy Leary was an icon and the hippie culture was alive and well and Amy embraced the mood of the times. She had been born and raised in Oregon and came from a family of free thinkers starting with her great grandfather Thomas Pendleton. 

Frank was from a Midwest farming community and his upbringing was a little more conservative than Amy’s.  While Amy and her friends enmeshed themselves in the culture, Frank had a tendency to stand back and watch.  He and Amy met while she was participating in a peace demonstration that had gotten out of hand.  Frank had recognized her from one of his classes and had whisked her out of the crowd before she got herself arrested.  She didn’t like his intervention and had given him a good kick in the shins and kept fighting to get him to release his hold on her.  When she didn’t let up, he did what seemed a natural thing to do to unruly kids, he’d done it with his younger sisters. He swatted her behind several times. Amy fought harder and the harder she fought the harder he spanked.  She finally quieted down and he was able to take her back to his room.  He was surprised when she grabbed him and pushed him down on the couch and was all over him like flies on honey.  That was the beginning of them and it had continued throughout the rest of their college years and through their married life until about five years ago.

“What happened to us, Frank?  I still love you as much, if not more than ever, but we seem to have lost some of the passion.  Why is that?”

“I don’t know Amy but I miss it”

“I don’t know Amy but I miss it”

“Me too, said Amy as she cuddled up to her husband.  Want to see if we can retrieve the magic here in San Francisco?

“Not right now Amy, I’ve got to get this done, maybe later”.

“That’s the problem Franklin, it always seems to be later or there is always something that needs to get done”

She began kissing his ear, he flicked her away and she would not be deterred, after she came back at him the third time, he pulled her over his knee and gave her a couple of good smacks on her bottom.  She gave his thigh a good pinch and he smacked her harder.  She felt the bulge in his pants about the same time he realized his pants were getting tight.  He pulled up her skirt and spanked her some more except that now there was more rubbing along with the spanking.  She began maneuvering herself so that her mons was right over his knee bone and began squirming around to get more stimulation.   Soon, he was up off the chair and they were onto the couch.  They couldn’t remove their clothes fast enough. He had her breast in his mouth and she had his manhood firmly in hand.  They made love with an abandon they had not experienced in some time.  When they lay there together entwined in one another’s arms Amy told Frank she thought she knew what it was.

“What’s what was” Franklin added.

“The spark that was missing” she told him.  “I think it’s because you don’t spank me anymore.  We’ve become vanilla.  When I found my great grandma Lilly’s diary there were lots of entries about men chastising their wives by taking them in hand. Everybody knew because there wasn’t much privacy, especially in a covered wagon.  Since my accident, you don’t spank me anymore”

“You may be right and I really don’t care what they used to do, I only care about us and if that’s what we’re missing you can count on being spanked on a more regular basis”

“Hooray, for that.
                                 ________________________________

When they got back home, their love life was almost back to what it once was.  Amy and Franklin were in “passion” again.   It started Amy thinking about her ancestors and her great grandmother’s diary.  Founders Day was just around the corner and it was a big deal in a town the size of Pendleton Falls.  She thought it would be a great idea to piece together the beginnings of their town.  She wrote a short recap of the town’s history and wanted to submit it to the local paper to be published in the special edition planned for Founders Day.

She asked her husband to critique the article for her.  Since her ancestors were one of the founding families she wanted to be sure to get it right.  Frank was opposed to his wife’s suggestion.  He knew that whatever he did or did not suggest would not meet with Amy’s approval.  She was very sensitive when it came to criticism of any kind and especially her ancestors..  When he suggested Amy give it to one of his colleagues instead, she felt hurt and started to cry.  Frank could handle Amy’s tears if they were a result of a trip over his knee but tears of this sort wore him down. He gave in and sat down to read.

“Pendleton Falls was settled in the mid 1800’s when my ancestor Thomas Pendleton and his new bride moved to this new land.  Thomas had disgraced his family by marrying Lilly Tompkins, a worker in his father’s factory.  The Pendleton ancestors had come over on the Mayflower and settled in New England.  They had prospered through the years and had a flourishing mill factory on the banks of the St. John River. Thomas was fully expected to take over the mill on his father’s demise and until then to work learning the business.  He was a good son and had always done what was expected of him, that is, until he met Lilly.  His family expected him to marry a lady of his own social strata – a girl from one of the prestigious families in the area; a marriage that would strengthen the financial and social standings of both families- not some lowly mill worker. 

When his family refused to accept the fact that he wanted to marry Lilly, they did everything in their power to break off the engagement.  When nothing seemed to work they threatened to cut off his future inheritance.  Thomas told them to do their worst.  He had a small inheritance from his grandfather and that, coupled with the money he had been saving since starting at the mill, gave him enough to carry he and Lilly to a new start.  He had always been interested in the west and so he and Lilly found a minister to marry them and thereafter boarded a train that would take them as far as Denver. They stayed in Denver to stock the supplies they would need for the rest of the trip and once they arrived at a destination.  They purchased a team and a covered wagon and joined a wagon train to resume their journey westward. Their travels stopped at a place where the ocean and forest met.  There were falls that reminded Thomas of the home he left.  There were rocky beaches that housed sea creatures, wild animals roamed through the forests, meadows with tall grass and a landscape that took your breath away.  Thomas and Lilly had found home.

 Six other wagons decided to stay with them while the others moved on.  It was early spring when they came upon what was later called Pendleton Falls.  The settlers continued living in their covered wagons while the families began to put down roots. They worked together to make this place a home.  Some felled trees; others cleared the land behind them. The women and older children tilled the soil and began planting crops for their winter stores.  By the time of the first frost they were ready for the winter.  Thomas and the other settlers had become quite good marksmen and there was plenty of game for food and clothing.  The trappers who had traversed this territory for years had welcomed the settlers and bartered their furs and such for vegetables, grains and jerky.   The sea provided fresh fish and the salt and kelp used in the curing of game and other stores.

 Their success was due, in no small part, to the assistance they received from the Nez Pearce people, natives to this land.  They were a peaceful people and had assisted Lewis & Clark on their initial expedition through this area.  Unfortunately, as the area became more accessible to families traveling west the Niimiipu (Nez Pearce) were pushed further and further off their lands and finally split into two segments.  The first group moved peacefully to a reservation while the second group tried to flee and almost made it to Canada before the US Cavalry defeated them.  Chief Joseph’s famous words “I will fight no more forever” ended their quest for freedom.  It was a land of plenty but the white settlers didn’t feel that way.

As the years passed and the railroad came through Pendleton Falls flourished and still flourishes today.  We have much to be grateful for this Founder’s Day and everyday.”

When Frank finished reading the article he gave Amy his opinion.   He told her it was a good article but mentioned that it only dealt with the Pendleton’s not the other six families who had sweated and toiled along with them.  He felt they deserved as much credit as Thomas Pendleton.  He also made a couple of other suggestions regarding the other white settlers and the Nez Pearce people. 

Amy huffed and puffed and grabbed the article out of his hand.

“I should have known you would find fault.  Just because I’m no professor doesn’t mean I can’t write.  You never support me.  I don’t know why I bothered asking for your help”.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to help.  You asked for my opinion.  I gave it, whether or not you choose to use it, is up to you.”

Amy left him standing there scratching his head.  He knew better.  Why did he always let himself get sucked in?  Amy came storming back into the room. 

“Why wouldn’t I just write about the Pendleton’s?  After all I’m a Pendleton and this is Pendleton Falls, it’s not Smithson Falls, or Jenkins Falls.  Let someone else write their part of the history.  I’m submitting this article.  I don’t care what you say.”

Frank decided the better part of valor was to just let the matter drop.  He didn’t say another word and neither did Amy.  When the paper came out on Founder’s Day, Amy’s article was not in it.  She immediately got on the phone to Bill Smithson and accused him of purposely not publishing her article because he wanted recognition for his own ancestors.  She harangued poor Bill until Frank finally grabbed the phone.  He apologized to Bill and hung up.

Amy was so red he thought she might explode.  She was fussing and fuming so he tried calming her down.  She started in on him saying that he probably coerced Bill into not publishing her article.  When he couldn’t take any more, he turned and walked out of the room.

“Don’t you walk out on me, you coward.”

That’s it, he said.  He hauled her into the kitchen, pulled out a chair, grabbed a wooden spoon from the crock on the counter and began assaulting her behind. She was kicking and screaming obscenities at him.  He pulled down her panties and painted her backside the most beautiful shade of red.  When he was finished, he pulled her panties back up and told her that now she had something to fuss and fume about. 

“I’m going to the parade.  Whether you come or not is up to you, but if you start a scene, I will be taking a page out of your ancestor’s diary.  They still have those covered wagons in the park, don’t they?”


~o0o~

Thanks Sunny! You've helped me so much and I do thank you.  If Fantasy Friday is going to continue, you need to start writing everyone!  Sunny and Bob had helped a ton, but they can't do it alone.  Send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com


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Written by PK at 5:30 PM

9 comments


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