Picture it. I’m working on something to present to my writer’s group, and while I am doing that I check my bank account, and what WHAT? My paycheck is in there early! Dash is also asleep. I can slip out the door, he will never know. There will be no crying, no howling, LET’S DO THIS.
I make my getaway. I’m happy. I’m on my way to Walmart. I am making a list of all the things that I need since I am starting a diet again and need veggies and diet type stuff.
An easy getaway was not to be. There were blue lights flashing behind me. Apparently I blew a stop sign. I feel that I sort of eased through it but who am I to argue with the po po. Only it wasn’t the po po. Officer Dave and Dave NEVER venture out to my neck of the woods, it was a park ranger. So me and officer ranger talk, and when I reached into the glove compartment, I looked out and there was a man standing there.
Insert my blood curdling scream here.
Turns out he was a park ranger too. And he looked pretty terrified after I screamed.
The ranger at my window thought this was hilarious and explained that he was with him. Which I had figured out because they were both dressed like Smokey The Bear. To recover what little was left of my dignity. I said “Oh good. You know they’ve never caught The Zodiac Killer.”
The ranger at the window laughed even harder. Then explained that he knew I lived in the park, he had seen me stop at that sign a million times, and thought I might be booze crusin’ since I eased on through it. He was going to give me a ticket but changed his mind because the scream, the look on the other ranger’s face, and my mention of the zodiac killer made his week, so I was getting off with a warning. HURRAY!
He also gave me a card with the number to the ranger station, because and I quote “If the Zodiac killer does show up at your place, we’ll get to you faster than Dave.”
Hey, I’m doing more than crafting these days. I’m also writing. And there have been problems. As some of you might remember, a few entries ago I wrote about one of my writing quirks, my belief that my writerly mojo is stored in t shirts.
Things were not going well. First, somehow the Bruce Campbell “Hail to the King, Baby” Deadite t shirt, turned into a walking shirt. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did. It’s a good walking shirt, and my Mom hates it , so it works on two levels.
My Jayne Cobb Mudders Milk t shirt is doing the job and doing it well. It is soaked in my writerly mojo. It smells like clean and crisp, just like Gain detergent. There is nothing that I don’t love about it. And Dash feels the same way, apparently the mojo that makes me write is good for Dash nappy time. He loves nothing more than cuddling up on Jayne. I love Jayne too, so I get that. It’s a very deliberate action too, I put Jayne away in a place that I didn’t think that Dash could get, and he can – then he drags it on the bed as if to mock me. ( and to everyone who is saying “Marika, just hang it up – he can’t get it there.” I say “SHUT UP. ” )Anyone that knows me, knows this is an unfortunate event, because I will not wake Dashly up to get my shirt. So I had to search for a new one, and while there is many a cool shirt out there, as we know it is hard to find one that is going to hit my requirements and be all that I want it to be … or is it?
Madam Mystery, I’ll go with that
Are you tired of the dragonfly table cloth yet? Don’t worry something new will be coming soon.