Chicken Scratch

Who buys Necco Wafers anymore? This Chick.

I’m not a doctor but I play one when writing long-hand.

Who buys Carpet Flesh and Necco Wafers in the same trip?
Cursive. The Lost Art.

Don’t worry. This is not a rant about cursive writing in public school. It’s about the one activity I dislike more than anything. SHOPPING.

That’s right, friends. I lost my Girl Card a long time ago. I don’t shop, I buy. I don’t browse. I get recommendations and click. If I don’t get my socks knocked off by the time I reach the second aisle, my cart and I roll outa there.

My local Publix is playing Disco. That’s about the only thing that keeps me coming back. Well. That and the free wine samples on Saturday at lunch time. NOW I get it. “Publix. Where Shopping is a Pleasure.” TM

Which reminded me of last Saturday. Here’s my list. I think I wet myself when I re-read item #6. Minor detail. Carpet Flesh. ewww.

You can’t be my friend if you’re saying ‘ewww’ to item #7. PS, Necco HQ is Hiring.

Licorice is best
Historic Treat for America’s Armed Forces





Cock-a-Doodle DON’T

Don’t cross the road. And other essential advice.

Buc cut bushes
Taking a little off the top

BUC and I had a little chat today while I was trimming his bushes.


“Why don’t you ever cross the road?” I asked.

He answered with a metallic stare.

He was probably thinking, “I like it over here.”  Or, “Was that a trick question?”

Speaking of Don’ts:

  • Don’t leave your entire Blondie LP collection in the hatchback of your AMC Pacer.
  • Don’t confuse the Cinnamon container for the Paprika one. Or vice versa. (Worst pork tenderloin EVER. Worst cinnamon toast EVER.)
  • Don’t refer to your husband’s undergarments as ‘panties’.
  • Don’t drink and draw.
  • Don’t brush your teeth in the car.
  • Don’t read The Tell-Tale Heart during a lightning storm when your husband is traveling on business; then call him after the electricity is out to tell him you can’t sleep.
DON’T say you want eggs with a pool party for your birthday, when you mean you’d like to eat brunch, then relax at the pool.


And for the record…

Don’t get caught talking to your metal chicken in the front yard.