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Showing posts from June, 2004

It Takes A Special Kind of Talent to Write Harlequin

She appeared to be staring calmly out the front room's curtains into the night sky. She was trying to grasp the slightest of breezes from the open window to cool her senses; when he came up behind her. Fog hung dense clinging close to the wet ground.
He was in his bed clothes.
Of course, she would let him stay the night. It was such a long drive home, so late. He had come by with no forewarning.
"What are you looking at," he spoke. He was standing so close behind her she could almost feel the out-line of his body. She wanted to breathe deeper. She could feel the simmering tingle start lightly in her body. She closed her eyes, briefly.
"Nothing," she whispered, for lack of better words to say.
She felt his hand slide up to her left shoulder, fingertips brushing her neck. She tilted her head away from him, feeling his fingers slide from her neck and then back up again as he further reached for her. She let her eyelids drop.
She could hardly stand it.

Travels With Charlie

I love my visits with Charlie. There are a few things to be counted on when he comes over. They are always on Sunday, he always brings something and he never arrives before 11 p.m. (except that whole supper experiment his sick, twisted mind wanted to try).
Charlie and I have only been friends for a few months. We met randomly, as most people do. He made me laugh. He likes the fact he cannot shock me. We have admitted things to each other we do not admit to other people. We are in related fields concerning our career choices. I would like to see him more, but he lives an hour away. It makes our once or twice monthly visits more fun, though. Charlie is a great guy.
He would be upset if I failed mention he is also good to look at. But I thought, nah, why stroke his already over-bearing ego?

Popcorn and a Porn

I remember one my first visits with Charlie. We were talking over Messenger and it was after midnight. We decided he could come over and bring a movie. We joked about what he co…

Reading Grounds

I like libraries. The warm tones and the quietness and the books. I love to people-watch the kind that sits reading or studying. The best time to go to the library is at 7 p.m. But alas, I cannot go there too often. It might result in me getting a library card.
And that is some risky business.
I take out too many books. More than most people can read. More than I can read. Usually. Mostly. And I never take them back on time.
Taking out library books has other little dangers for me. I am a rough and tumble sort of girl. I like getting into things.
And that includes my books. By the end of a good read, the novel usually has coffee stains and a piece of the cover torn. Paperbacks have snapped spines. Some books visit my bath water. A book can age pretty quick being with me. Sometimes it gets really, really old.
There have been many times I have had to replace the entire price of the book to the library.
I will admit this happens if the book was really good and I just want t…


I am at the bus stop early in this evening. I want to stretch out on the concrete sidewalk and indulge in the quietness and the sun. I watch lazy bike riders and bored children on front porches. Today the wind would have been perfect had I been kissed the night before.
I am going to a friends house to eat some cold pizza.
I hate pizza. I love my friend.

We sit on her balcony enjoying the breezes and laughing. She pokes herself into her apartment and comes back with a strawberry cooler and two glasses.
"I only have this one, but I thought it would be a nice treat," she smiles.
She opens the cap as she looks across the road at the park. "No one is even there tonight."
"Got a big cup that has a lid?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says.
"Let's go," I say back.

We sat in the grass that was a little too long and yellow in some areas from the constant treading across it.
We lounged and shared the cooler out of a blue sports bottle.
We felt de…

Windex The New Spit-Polish

I swear. I have house-cleaning issues.
I guess maybe they are created for something to talk about briefly, when the girl's first get together for coffee.
You kind of have to create little stories for that.

My house was almost beautiful three weeks a go. And I had just got a new washer and dryer. That I have to say-I was thrilled with for two whole days.
Nothing really out of the normal was going on in my household. Same people dropping by. Same experiments in my sink.
Somewhere along the way, I decided I did not have to do as much cleaning. The basics would be good enough. And if one of those got skipped on one night, I could make it up the next.
Two weeks a go, I do not want to admit what I decided-but there was no rationalization. I stopped cleaning. I pretty much ordered my employee to do the basics. She did.
She also decided to clean spills with my best towels and eat all my chocolate.
But it was worth it. I was sitting on my ass.
I seemed to not notice when my …



Eight Years Old

Tommy sat up in the second branches of the tree. He peered through the leaves to the ground; looking at the brightness of grass grown in the shade. He was scared and could only manage to look up for the briefest of seconds; just a corner of blue covered by cloud.
But Tommy grinned. He had finally climbed a tree!
He breathed deeply and listened to the sounds of everyone else out for their recess. The last reccess before summer started. The air seemed to ride on the waves of excitement that was up in the throats of every child; round like a proud frog.
Tommy longed to feel this sense of excitement, too. Climbing up the tree, he found it.

Tommy sat on the ground at the bottom of the tree. His hands were torn up from trying to clutch bark when he came down. The sting was so strong; it kept away the blood. But small, thick gobs of blood plopped down from the scrape on his nose; deep and burning. His eyelashes were fat with …

The Bathroom

6 p.m.

Tommy sat in the bathtub, staring off with his legs outstretched and sometimes, his toes too. Pretending he was in a race car no longer appealed to his four year old mind.
The summer evening's sun pulsed through the small uncurtained window; warming his naked body. He let the water out over an hour a go, but bathrooms always left his skin feeling damp and itchy if he was in one too long. His toenails were still dirty.
He looked up to see Momma standing in the doorway in her short, light yellow summer nightgown. Her blonde hair was askew and matted. Her skin had tinges of bluing; the look of too much time spent indoors. A cigarette was in her hand and the smoke curled around her face. It did not mask the glossed-over look of her eyes.
"Good morning, Momma."
Her hand came up to shush him and she reached with her other to the medicine cabinet.
"Not now, Tommy."
He watched as Momma fumbled with the bottle of Tylenol, then spread her hand wide to empty too man…

One Fine Day: April 15 2004-Part V

The woman behind the counter looks nice enough. She is a pert, little blonde with a cheery smile. She looks like she wants to do cartwheels.
I am starting to feel bad already at all the work I am going to have to make her go through.
I smile back at her when I reach the counter, apologetically.
"You are so going to wish I was not here in a minute," I say to her.
Her grin was wide. "What can I help you with?"
Okay. Here is the kicker. I recently went through complete I.D. renewal. I own a birth certificate. I am relying on the postal service to deliver the rest.
She looks over my birth certificate carefully. She bites her lip. She sighs. She looks up at me and has transformed into not-so-cheery.
"I have to verify this with my manager," she scowls at me.
God, I think. She sounds like Darth Vadar.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe hard through my nose when I see Darth and the manager walk towards me.
"Hello, Elizabeth," Mr. Dobson says w…

Probably August

Circumstances have made it possible for me to enjoy another self-indulgent walk. This one I get to take at almost 10 o'clock.
It has been raining off and on here all night. Light sprinkles fall from the deepest blue sky as I step outside and although the rain is a bit colder than I normally like, I enjoy the feel of it tonight.
I decide to turn left. It is garbage night. Everyone on the street is so neat. Their is no shame in placing their garbage bags right below the street lights.

It was the summer I was ten years old and my brother was eight. We used to hang "Outback". Daily, we would hop the fence at the end of our two-acre property into a subdivision of houses. Our gang of kids was large and diverse. Everybody played together. At least sometimes.

The day's sky had turned from a light blue to a pale grey. It was an unexpected colder day. We were all suffering in our shorts and tee-shirts but nobody wanted to go home. A parent might suddenly decide a …

Saturday Playing

***For Shawn: The names for your playlists are so clever, you inspired me.

I just knew in advance my Saturday night this week would suck.
And it does-my house is trashed. I don't want to be the one who has to clean it.
Besides, last Saturday was fabulous and turn-about is fair play.
I knew I had to prepare in advance.
This afternoon I decided I would put together a playlist of the music that I listened to when I was 13 years old.
It is a little scary.
New Kids on the Block to Jethro Tull.
Vanilla Ice to Conway Twitty.
Rod Stewart to Metallica.

Metallica. Sigh. I have such fond memories of Metallica being my favorite band. They got to remain that way for over 13 years. I often feel guilty I discovered Matchbox Twenty three months a go.
A play list would not be complete without Metallica.
Well-okay. Not true. I have that really geeky all happy songs playlist.
I could not put Metallica there.
Somehow, I feel guilty about this, too.
Gee. I wonder if this is like a bad b…

I Remember

To Whoever you are...
Wherever you are...

The Easter Egg was a beautiful navy blue with ribbons of pink, purple and yellow running through it's foil wrapper. It sat far upon my window's top ledge.
I stood on my tippy-toes, my 4 year old self reaching. I wanted to hold that egg so bad.
But I could not reach it.
Not even when I stood on my bed.
Tears streamed down my face and a fear started to tingle in my bones. It was so horrible to be so small.

I woke suddenly with the sick feeling of my heart racing.
I sat up and peeled the blankets from my warm little body. My nightgown was damp against my skin.
The bedroom was dim as the last of the day's light was being sucked behind a nighttime curtain. I could hear the soft sighs of my little brother's slumber and I looked across the room to see him curled in a ball, sucking his thumb. My own finger was wrinkled from being in my mouth.
I shuffled over to the edge of the bed and dropped down, letting my bare feet to…

A Never Ending List

I See....

I see AJ on a fantastic white wooden front porch after a summer's afternoon rain. He is wearing blue jeans, leaning back in his chair, his bare feet up on the railing. I see wise eyes and a wife with shining ones opening up the front door to join him.

AJ-the gift you gave me today is unexplainable with words. Thank you.

I see Juner in her backyard opening up a freezer bag with her daughter. Amazement runs through their watery eyes at the stench of decomposition.

I see KJB in a room that does not need light bulbs. I see chartreuse walls, red couches and funky posters. I see the widest smile. I can so see her rolling her eyes.

I see The Bard in a quiet room with the glow of the computer screen as the only light, hiding the most beautiful parts about him behind his curly hair.

I see Morgan, my first favorite, searching everywhere to bring truth to his blog. I see him on his hands and knees, looking down the sewers, peering through fences, looking into life a step beyond.

I a…

A Porch Over

Church Lady is nutty. Church Lady lives next door to me. She has five teenagers, six cats and three big dogs.
We moved here in December.
Church Lady had reindeer in her garden. Not just any reindeer, either. Beautiful life-size soft reindeer with a pine display of needles and red satin ribbon encasing them. It was breath-taking and would have been better suited to the front foyer of City Hall. You know. Inside.
Now it is summer and her too busy garden has just stayed weird. She still has the reindeer. Minus the ribbon.
She has bird cages she has torn the tops and bottoms from placed around her steps. Things grow in them. There is a gigantic wooden cardinal smack dab in the middle of her garden. The eyes seem to glow at night.
She has a huge blue and white patio umbrella attached to her porch's metal railing. There are no chairs underneath it. Everyday there is four new rugs hanging over the rest of the railing. They are of every description and colour. I think th…

Tommy, Three Years Old.

Every time he sees the old lady, she is wearing her velvet green housecoat, zippered up to her neck. Sometimes she has teeth and sometimes she doesn't. Tommy thinks she grows them then pulls them out. He thinks she makes jewelry with them, necklaces and earrings. She has never told him that.
She always walks slowly, hunched over, arms outstretched to him, her fingers like fallen twigs from a tree. "Oh, you're here again, my boy. That's good. So good. You've been gone so long." When she finally reaches him, the smell of something takes his breath away like the smell of Daddy's Aqua Velva does or when Momma is spraying the Lysol and he thinks that he has swallowed the taste and he can feel it pulsing through the veins in his neck, choking life from him. Yes, Grandma smelled like that. Life going away.
Her weak arms would wrap around his shoulders. Her body would push close up against him and he would feel her thin limbs and the surprised softness around …

I am Not All Peaches & Cream

As Always:To Moon
The broad who put a hex on me when I stole her stolen idea.
I can't stop making lists...

Things That Annoy Me(I might get loud when annoyed)

1. My computer.
2. People who are always late.
3. Or too early.
4. Other people writing in my notebooks.
5. No coffee filters.
6. Someone knocking at my door. People I like just walk in.
7. Favor-askers hinting.
8. Anything I cannot open with my hands or teeth.
9. Not long line-ups...slow cashiers.
10. Weeds.
11. Anything breaking I like.
12. A horrible movie.
13. People louder than me.
14. Someone pointing at me when they are angry.
15. Telemarketers calling when I am busy.
16. People trying to borrow books before I have read them.
17. Fingerprints on walls.
18. The three-way stop in front of my house.
19. Easter bunny shopping.
20. Uncomfortable clothes.
21. Beehives in my tree.
22. Singing the wrong lyrics.
23. Tuesdays.
24. Getting tickled.
25. Mary-Kate and Ashley.
26. Richard Simmons.
27. Sally Fields.
28. Paige Davis.
29. Un-tangling anything.
30. P…


I am going downtown tonight with the air I am a serious college student, who volunteers at the college's library once a week. On Saturday mornings. This is not who I really am. I go with the attitude it is 1983. I comb and style my always messy hair so it will messily none-the-less, flow..
My nose got a little sun today. This is where the idea originated.
It is 7 p.m. when I go.
I have freckles.
That is my attitude.
This is what happens:

Downtown feels weird. It is quiet here. I do not know this downtown.
People are in various forms of dress. Been here all day or Going to be here all night. But all the clothes are casual.
There is a light breeze. Car windows are open.
The usual bustle of downtown has transformed itself into a small town downtown.
I go to my usual coffee shop.
It is closed. Surreal. Closed?
Well, there is another one a few blocks over. I can take many different ways to get there. I just follow the feel of little town until I get there...

I decide to s…

It Has Remote Control

I am thrilled. I am so lucky. I am beside myself.
Unexpectedly, I have no children all weekend long.
It comes at a shock at 5:30 p.m. I just do not even know what to do with myself. I have had no time to plan!
I decide I will plan tonight, maybe write, and blare the music full blast until 4 a.m.-because I can!!!!
But because I am home anyway, I will do a load of laundry.
Except here we go again with the no-power to my basement appliances.
I start to feel like this is punishment for being so happy to be without children for the week-end. Now I will have to find someone to help me.
Cindy has fixed this before. But she had time to plan for her Friday evening. She is not going to be home.
My mind begins to race. I know so few people who even have knowledge of this kind of stuff. Or maybe everyone has knowledge of breaker systems and I am just under some assumption you have to be a brain surgeon to get them.
I will call Ian. He is afterall, a man. Men usually know more about…

Dish Thoughts

...the moral ramifications of downloading porn on a computer not-your-computer...

...Celine Dion: when she sings, her eyebrows do Broadway...

...I am so pissed my budgie had to recently learn Survival Tactics...
A big adjustment in this pets might be taking over...!

...why men can't say "Listen, Bob.." instead of doing things like throwing each other off the backs of moving trucks...

One Fine Day: April 15th 2004- Part IV

The line-up is eight people dense at the bank. Normally this would make me a little antsy but I am not really looking forward to this part of my day. A little drag does not bother me. Besides the daylight is shining through the windows just right. I can handle this line-up.
Still, I do not envy the rush of people who come in just after I do.
Two college-aged boys are standing right behind me. The one is cute in his modern take on 70's clothing. His friend is just the other side of pleasant chubbiness.
"Can you even believe Randall and that new dog of his?" Heavy asks, incredulously.
"The benefits of puppies. Woman-folk cannot resist," Hunk replies.
"Yeah. But man, it is not like he is good-looking."
"Well, it's not like he has gotten a date out of it yet," says Hunk. "Makes me wonder what kind of puppy he would need to get one. Actually, it makes me wonder even more what kind it would take for your ass to get a date."…

My Favorite Songs

1. Welcome Home(Santitarium)-Metallica
2. Long Day-Matchbox Twenty
3. When You Say Nothing At All-Alison Krauss
4. Unkind-Matchbox Twenty
5. Blackened-Metallica
6. You're So Real-Matchbox Twenty
7. Runaway Train-Soul Asylum
8. Broken Wing-Martina McBride
9. Who Put the Bomp-Me First and the Gimmie Gimmies
10. Sweet Caroline-Neil Diamond
11. Only Hope-Mandy Moore
12. Living Room-Tegan & Sara
13. St. Elmo's Fire(Man In Motion)-John Parr
14. Girl All the Bad Boys Want-Bowling for Soup
15. Perfect-Sara Evans
16. Dead Skin Mask-Slayer
17. Faith-George Michael
18. Crime of Passion-Ricky Van Shelton
19. I Love It Loud-KISS
20. Seek and Destroy-Metallica
21. Bright Lights-Matchbox Twenty
22. Somebody Like You-Keith Urban
23. Ten Thousand Angels-Mindy McCready
24. You Give Love a Bad Name-Bon Jovi
25. Thank the Lord for the Night Time-Neil Diamond
26. More Than Words Can Say-Alias
27. Hello, I'm Gone-Trisha Yearwood
28. People Are Strange-The Doors
29. Moving On-Rascal Flatts
30. Now and Forever(You and Me…

The Grade Six Cup

It probably has to do with all the beautiful days and nights we have been getting lately; these memories I recall with such fondness.

There is nothing in the world quite like being 11 years old. Many of my most favorite memories come from the year I was in Grade Six.
You remember it, too.
It was the last time boys and girls were allowed to be 'just friends'. You were excited to be off to middle school the following year. And it did not hurt you were part of the "Kings" on the playground. Every other kid in lower grades hated you and yet could not wait to be you. You know this because you were once them. You have paid your dues. It was the first time you experienced power at your fingertips and it was yours alone to decide what to do with.
There was an imposed soccer league at our school that all the Grade Four, Five and Six's were forced to participate in.
I was one of the kids thrilled to. My Uncle Jack had taught me lots over the years about soccer in t…


7:30 p.m.
Cindy is here. Her shift will start early tomorrow and it was just easier for her if she could spend the night in my home. Sometimes I get so tired of seeing her.
Then I remember all the little treasures that also come with friendship(the treasures like 'my no power to the downstairs appliances' she already fixed tonight).
With the kids snug in bed, and two hours of daylight left, I wanted to spend it outside.
I said to Cindy, "Wouldn't it be nice if Terri came down for a coffee?"
"Sure," she replied.
"Why don't you play on my PC while I go get her?" I said. "It will only take me a few minutes. It is a nice out on the porch evening."
"Alright," she says, not caring, her mind already on what she can do on the PC while I am gone. She loves my computer. I know she hopes I will take my time on my walk.
I step out in my runners, that I just do not wear enough, and I start heading up the 12 or so houses to T…

Hockey Night In Canada

I settled on to my couch in my pink bath robe right when the players took to the ice. I timed my bath just right. Nevermind, I had the help of the TV turned up extra loud so I would be able to hear it in the bathroom.
The game started almost too quiet and the playing was destined to remain on the cautious side for the whole first period, I predicted. I watched until the clock on the screen said there was 8:56 left in the first period.
That's when I looked down at my bath robe and adopted a 'Why am I sitting here in this?' attitude. I mean really, who wants to jump around in a bathrobe if Calgary wins? I need a pair of jeans.
The other night when I was also in my bath robe, deciding I needed to be dressed, I devised a new game. I call it "Deer in the Headlights."
I have a rather large living room window. My curtains are fairly close to completely see-through.
This game pretty much consists of me being able to get fully dressed in my living room, ensuring at a…


*** To Jeff and Jay-I hope he is what you saw.

Fernando was three months old, when a gopher got in the house. No one knows how it got in. Why it jumped in the crib. Or why it bit Fernando.
All they do know is that gopher is now stuffed and sitting on a table in Fernando's parents house to this day.
Fernando had a lovely silver three wheeled bike when he was six years old. He had an orange flag attached to the back of it. He would do anything to be able to ride that bike all day.
Adults started sending Fernando on errands. Up to the store or to drop something off to someone down the street.
The children of the neighborhood caught on to this and started sending Fernando, too. And Fernando did not mind riding two blocks over to sneak in the backyard to take a few nails from Mr. Watson's tool shed. Or to steal flowers out of Mrs. Amble's garden for Steven. Steven wanted flowers a lot. He was a love-sick boy handing them out to even the girls in Grade Three.
Fernando could …


It is such a romantic notion, she is aware even at six.
She sits thoughtfully at her desk while the other children dig into writing their letters. Her words have to be chosen carefully. She wants to say the right things. The ones that will get a response.
She hopes her letter is found in a more difficult place to find and reach. She wants the person who reads it to put in the effort. That way if her words are wrong, they will remember how they got it and appreciate her effort.
She takes her pencil to paper and she finds the words that leave her satisfied.
The letters are attached to balloons. The whole school of children first creates a sea with their bodies on the front lawn and then in the sky when they release the 500 balloons.
She has seen this on TV. It does not compare to standing there, watching it.
Hers is one of only three letters answered. It was found on a beach, half-buried in the sand amid a plain of driftwood among the rocky sides of a cliff. The man said …


I am awoken from the deepest sleep. The night world is a blur in front of me. I know I am in a white van and I know who is driving. I am five.
My mother leans over me. I can smell her breath and the heat from it leaving a damp patch on my cheek.
"Look at the lights," her whisper is low and urgent.
They are just street lights. But they go by in such a rush, the trails running off them almost creating daylight.
I sit up beside my mother, watching until we left the outskirts of whatever town we were in.

On A

***Thank you to the Bard for brainstorming with me and as always, to Moon who allowed me to steal her stolen idea.
I am sorry all, for my addictions. The list thing WILL wear thin.

1. On a mountain range, I would of course, do the echo thing.
2. On a set of porch steps, I would have my most honest conversations.
3. On a raft in a pool, I would still be drinking coffee.
4. On a skateboard, I would fall off.
5. On a tire swing, I would pretend it was a unicorn again.
6. On a cover of a novel, I will find my name.
7. On a kitchen counter, I will swing my feet.
8. On a jailbreak, I am too loud and caught.
9. On a riverbank, I would think of an old man and the stories he would have to share.
10. On a plate, I do not want to see bacon.
11. On a hunch, I am always right.
12. On a chilly day, I want to be outside.
13. On a game of SURVIVOR, I would place in the top three.
14. On a cloud, I would definitely hope my man-servant was there.
15. On a podium, I would give my acceptance speech for my Academy Awa…


I have the most fantastic black shirt.
It is woolly. And a turtle neck. It has two discreet zippers that sometimes become noticeable. They are placed along the bottom of the shirt, facing upwards against my hips. This shirt is so from the early 1990's. I am un-hip.
It's sleeves are long enough, I can bunch my fists up in them. I feel wonderful in this shirt. It's my "maybe we can be friends" shirt. I meet the most interesting people on a day to day basis wearing it. I found it at Value Village.
It is almost summer. I miss my wool shirt. I was thrilled yeserday was cool enough to wear it.
I have another shirt. It is pink. I hate pink. But pink looks nice on me. Pink and I have made a compromise. As long as I do not have to look at it in my house, I can wear it.
This shirt was not my style. I almost did not want to put it on. Such disappointment. But I had to know.
The shirt was my style. I was immediately comfortable in it. But I felt a li…


She is new to this country. She feels like she is opening her eyes for the first time in her life. She is eight years old and everything around her is bright and cheerful, lively, not blank.
The music is beautiful. Business signs are alive during the day and the night. Different cars have different sounds.
Her favorite walks to school so far have been the early spring frost mornings. They exhilarated her. The pain of the icy breath piercing her lungs was just right to be pleasurable.
And people have arms! Sometimes attached to all kinds of sleeves, sometimes bare. It seems almost naughty when she is caught staring too long.
Her parents have chosen a quiet community, over the dense populated cities where most immigrants go. They are well-educated, with the money to be able to do this.
Her parents do it for her. They know Toronto and Victoria could make them maybe millions as the professionals they are. Small towners make less. Mom is still not working. Their wealth permitted th…

One Fine Day: April 15th 2004- Part III

A Few Pennies for My Thoughts?

I con 5 dollars out of my babysitter when she gets to work for her shift. Lovely, borrowing from my employee. That has the makings of a wonderful head huncho of a major cooperation.
Whew. Good thing I have no plans of doing that.
I just really think I deserve to have a coffee on the bus today. Besides, to be honest-is it really called borrowing if she will have no use for it while I am gone?
When I finally step out my door, I feel fantastic. We are starting to get many more nicer days than nasty ones.
I almost wish I had not put on any perfume. The birds are loud and surely flirting. The trees still look sad and are mostly bare, but with no leaves; the sky is opened-up more and gets a much deserved chance to show off the colour he looks best in. Today, everyone will be smiling.
I think to myself, 'Spring should be an emotion. It would be one of the purest.'
I get to the coffee shop and stand in line rummaging in my book bag for the fre…

I Used to Wear Eye Glasses Too

I shut my eyes in order to see.
-Paul Gauguin 1843-1903

I have some severe issues with eyeballs. They seemed to follow me around everywhere I go.
My issues started when I was about 7. I walked into the living room on a sunny spring day and my mother and brother were sitting on the beige couch that had a brown and orange stripe up the middle.
"You could use an ice cream scoop!" My brother giggled.
"Or you could drill into it," my mother said.
"What are you talking about," ever-curious me wanted to know.
"Ways to remove an eyeball," my mother said, matter-of-a-factly.
My own eyes widened. Immediately sickened, I left the room.
But I guess this was fun for my mother and brother and for the rest of my life in that home, you could find them periodically talking of the removal or odd loss of an eyeball.
Who knows where neurotica begins. All I do know is I have never been able to watch people stick their fingers in their eyes or flip their lids ba…