I Can’t See a Damn Thing in This Fog

August 2, 2017August 14, 2017 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 12 Comments

Funnyjunk

Crystal pulled her glasses off for the third time and cleaned them. She tried lens wipes, spray, Windex, and soap and water; which left the worst film ever.

Her husband, Roger, watched impatiently from the comfort of his recliner. “What are you doing? The movie’s about to come on, and you’ve been fooling with those damn glasses for twenty minutes.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What the hell does it look like I’m doing? I’m cleaning them.”

“Looks to me like you’re rubbing a damn hole in the lens and eww.” His face wrinkled in disgust, “After everything else you’ve tried; you think your spit’s gonna do the trick?”

“I’m telling you, I can’t see! They’re all foggy and blurry. My eyes were just fine this morning.” Her shoulders drooped. “I give up; something’s wrong, Roger, I know it.” Her hands dropped to her lap. “I bet it’s a brain tumor, like moms.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Crystal; you don’t have a brain tumor.”

“I have been having more headaches lately,” she said.

Roger pushed the electric recliners up button. “Hand me the damn things, let me have a look, and stop sniffling. We’ll figure it out together.”

Crystal handed him a lens cloth and her glasses. “I could see fine this morning.”

Roger ignored the whiny, pitiful sound coming from his wife of forty years and studied the glasses. The lens sparkled, then he spotted the numbers on the temple of the glasses. He pulled himself, grunting from his favorite chair and shuffled to the other side of the house, muttering under his breath. A few minutes later, he returned. “Here, that should do it,” he said, extending the glasses to his wife.

Crystal put them on and broke out in a grin. “I can see! You fixed them!” She reached for his hand, but he’d already pushed the down button on his recliner and was moving out of reach.

She settled back on the sofa, ready for the movie, and started giggling. “And I thought it was a brain tumor.”

“More like dementia if you ask me,” Roger said, picking up the remote control.

“Well, how in the world did you fix them?”

“I didn’t; you had my reading glasses.” Roger turned up the volume loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “Now, hush, we’ve already missed the half of the movie.”

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.

Thank God We’ve Evolved

August 2, 2017August 14, 2017 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 2 Comments

DAILY PROMPT: Toothbrush

A typical chew stick. This one is from the plant Glycyrrhiza glabra (licorice)

I can remember as a child, my mother quizzing me, “Did you brush your teeth?” Twice a day and nothing less was the rule in our house.

It was a practice I carried over to my children. I wanted them to develop the habit of brushing early and be proud of their healthy beautiful teeth, but not all kids bought into that philosophy or the habit.

Getting some kids to brush is more difficult than tying a string to a door knob and pulling the little suckers! Waking up to a surprise left by the Tooth Fairy is much more enticing. Can you imagine what it was like for those parents trying to get their kids to brush using the first toothbrush?

According to the Museum of Everyday Life, The Chinese (imagine) invented the first bristle toothbrush during the Tang Dynasty (619-907) from the very stiff, coarse hairs of the cold-climate hogs inserted into holes of either bone or bamboo.

I can see it now. Junior’s mom thrusting a hairy bone out to her son. “I’m not gonna tell you again, brush your teeth.”

Thank God we’ve evolved.

And, be sure to check out my book, Maybe Next Time, on Amazon. Available in Kindle and paperback formats.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.

Will You leave the Important Things Unfinished?

September 28, 2016October 22, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 9 Comments

DAILY PROMPT: Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt – Unfinished

Pixabay

I’m not a fan of surprises, but life has a way of jumping out from behind the curtain like a room full of people at a birthday party and scaring you half to death. At unexpected or traumatic times we think about the things lying unfinished in our lives; whether it’s business, unfinished manuscripts or expressions of love.

Currently, I’m working on a short story collection (coming out soon, I hope), two novels, and a memoir. I haven’t pushed to get these completed. Like many people, I believe I’ll have plenty of time to get things done. But, time is elusive and slips through our fingers like sand in an hourglass.

I don’t expect to rock the literary world with the stories and novels on my computer. I simply want to leave a tiny fragment of myself to those I leave behind and a small reminder to the world that “I was here.”

Many great writers left behind unfinished manuscripts. John Steinbeck, Truman Capote, C.S. Lewis, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Mark Twain, and Charles Dickens to name a few. You can read more about these authors and their unfinished works, here.

The only thing we have in our control is what we do this moment, this hour, this day. I’m trying to get my words out and pray when I leave this earth not only will my manuscripts be finished, but more importantly, my loved ones will know they were loved, appreciated, and my inspiration to write – those are the words that shall not be left unsaid or unfinished.

What about you? Do you have unfinished business?

I’d love to hear your comments. Talk to me. Tell me your story and look for me on Facebook at SheilaMGood, Pinterest, Bloglovin, Twitter@sheilamgood, Contently, and Instagram. You can follow my reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.

Friends, We’re in A Dilemma

September 27, 2016October 22, 2016 / Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 2 Comments

DAILY PROMPT – Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt – Dilemma

Pixabay

I’ve followed politics since my thirties but never as fervently as I have since 9/11. I remember the long, months after the terrible terrorist attack on our country.

As a nation, we were grief-stricken, angry, and scared, but everyone came together; race, ethnicity, or gender never entered our minds. Although shaken, we were united as one nation, determined to survive and come out stronger. And, we did – for a while.

Unfortunately, we didn’t stay united. Over the last eight years, our nation has become more divided than ever – people of all races, ethnicities, gender and economic status are being pitted against each other. Jobs have been lost, cities decimated, crime has increased, and in some areas, is out of control. Instead of pulling together as a nation, we’ve allowed anarchy.

Universities and our schools have turned into kindergartens, catering to overly sensitive students who, unable to handle differing points of view, demand “safe places.” Rather than teach critical thinking, we’ve allowed the grievances of some turn into riots and lawlessness – calling it free speech. We accept excuses rather than discipline and allow people to throw out labels like confetti, rendering others silent.

Today, even our law enforcement must not only defend themselves on the job but also for doing their job. And, before someone gets offended – I get it – sometimes the police get it wrong, really, wrong – so don’t start. As imperfect as it is, we have a justice system – let them do their job.

People rage about inequality, but no one is willing to step up, lay responsibility where it belongs, make the necessary changes or hold the lawless accountable; including those in high places who believe they’re above the law.

Pixabay

We are in a dilemma. Change is never easy and when it happens not everyone will be happy. An amazing number, 66% of the country, believe our nation is headed in the wrong direction; so, what are we going to do about it?

Stick with the status quo or make a change? We are on the precipice of which I believe there is no return. We are, indeed, in a dilemma, my friends.

Personally, I’ve had enough of the status quo. Choosing change may make us nervous, but I’ll take my chances.