joolie1

Earlier she had spent more than an hour removing unsightly mushroom clusters that appeared to be on all the lawns.

Most days I am oblivious to the clutter. I climb the stairs, grapple with the door handle and push the door open with my foot, my arms full of the day’s accumulations.

My arms hang limply at my sides as I survey my small apartment. Helplessly I gaze at what I call my ‘heaps’ which lie everywhere. From all sides they crowd me …

I finished putting my groceries away and somewhat distractedly I began to nibble, taking a juicy bite into my first pear of the season.

Santa is 69. I know this because we camped with him and his wife, Wendy, one night just outside of Idaho Falls, Idaho. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

He enjoyed listening to the traffic. It was like music; each vehicle with it own, individual pitch, harmonizing with others to produce an orchestral symphony of sound.

The sun glared angry this morning, peering crossly from behind a veil of thin dark clouds. It scowled down on the world, sending a stern message.
"Without me it could be very bad for you."

The bell over the door tinkles as we enter Grandma’s convenience store. My two brothers and four sisters pile in with me, talking loudly, laughing and teasing, but I am deaf to it all.

"Dad, I’m driving along the highway and on the western horizon I can see a really bright star or planet or something. It looks red. Do you know what it is? Ya, I can wait while you go outside t…

Everywhere he goes, he returns with tales of glamour, parties, wealth, excitement and a life lived on the edge. I want to be a part of that.

He felt sure he had caught her every nuance; quenched her every thirst; gently eased her every complaint. His touch was a patient caress.

His thoughts elsewhere, Karl Bielig was unable to hear the desperate battle that played out on the other side of the glass.
“Karl Bielig, Brigadeführer, SS,” he whispered.

Frankie isn’t happy.

"Frankie," Mommy calls.

He stays put, pouting, pretending not to hear.

“Hey! It’s my buddies, Dennis Hopper and Moe,” I exclaim, walking toward the shabbily-dressed men standing in the hall. “How are you guys tonight?”

I do not want to be here! It wasn’t enough that Sarah had to get cancer at 34. No – now I’m burdened not only with taking care of her, but having to do all the chores too.

“We win and lose as a team. But I guess records are made to be broken. I’m just proud to be able to help out my team. I go out there, try to stay focused, and some days it comes together.”

Clint holstered his gun at his side, ran a leathery hand over his weathered face, squinting into the too-bright desert sun, and shot a black, oozing gob of chewing tobacco at his feet.