It’s Not Easy Being Green

Linda G. Hill’s prompt for #SoCS March 17, 2018:  green


I love where I live.  I live in a clearing in the middle of the woods.  It’s quiet back here and there is a lot of wildlife.  I often see bear tracks on my property.  I even had an alligator in a small pond once.  It wasn’t a big one, but still an alligator!  Of course, there are deer, rabbits, squirrels, red foxes, coyotes, anoles, and raptors that fly around all the time.  I have to be careful because one could easily swoop down and pick up my little Gracie.

Gracie is my little 12-pound Cairn Terrier mix.  She’s a sweetheart and so much company for me.   So when she goes out into the yard, (woods) I have to check on her often.

One of my favorite critters are the tree frogs.  I love the noise they make singing to each other.  At night they gather around my porch light by my front door to feed off the bugs.  I get the biggest kick out of seeing them on the storm door and on the wall of the house.  They just sit there getting fat.  They don’t even move when I get close.  They are always kind enough to stay still so I can take photos of them.

Last fall, there were a ton of baby frogs.  Around the light that is on the wall by my door, there is a small ledge about a half inch wide.  There were five baby frogs in a row sittingDSCF4676 on it.  Too cute.

I almost think of the frogs as pets.  I check on them each evening.  They just make me happy.  I don’t particularly like to hold them or anything, just like to look at them.

Here is a picture of the first frog that has come to the house this year.  I always get excited when I start to see the tree frogs.  It means winter is over and spring is on the way.

The color green always reminds me of Kermit the Frog and his famous song It’s Not Easy Being Green.  You remember the Muppets right?  Kermit was lamenting about blending in with so many ordinary things.  I always thought it was cute.  Maybe that’s why I love the tree frogs so much.  🙂

The Dolly


February 17- his/her(s)

Her favorite doll was her Tiny Tears.  She named her Janet after her little friend across the street.  Mandy would take her for walks in her doll carriage, feed her from her baby bottle, and rock her patiently when tears formed in her eyes.  Mandy loved her Tiny Tears so much.

Mandy had Raggedy Anne and Andy, and her Gerber Baby, but they just didn’t make her feel like a mommy like Janet did.  She took such care of her dolls, especially Janet.  So, when her younger brother stole Janet, took her outside, threw her up in the air causing her to get a scratch on her cheek when she landed,  Mandy was beside herself.

How could Johnny do such a thing?  Would he like it if she took one of his favorite trucks and did something to it?  As Mandy ran into the house holding her precious Janet, she was crying.  Daddy stopped her asking what had happened.  As she reported the atrocity her little brother had committed, he hugged her ever so tightly.  He explained that little brothers are like that.  He didn’t really know why, but they had this innate desire to be a pain to their big sisters.  He really didn’t mean to hurt your dolly,  he just wanted to annoy you.

Mandy didn’t stop crying until she heard her daddy tell Johnny he was grounded for three days with no toys, and no TV so that he could think about what he had done.  Smiling, Mandy walked past her brother sitting very unhappily in his room as she cooed to Janet held in her arms.


Welcome To My World Or My Tale of Woe



February 10, 2018 tail/tale

Have you ever had one of those days?  You know, the kind of day that makes you just want to buy a gun and shoot something.  Well, I really would never do anything like that, but I sure came close yesterday.

Actually, yesterday was not really the beginning of this tale of woe, but rather just the last in a series of incompetent, thoughtless, events that have been making my life miserable.

My banking institution lost a deposit that was made by my daughter into our joint account.  This account was opened because we do not live in the same town and she and her husband have been helping me financially to help get me through some rather unfortunate circumstances.  I am truly blessed.

Ok, getting back to the lost deposit.  My daughter made the deposit the last week of January.  It was a week before I called her to see if she had forgotten to go to the bank.  She informed me the had gone.  I hated to tell her that it was never credited to our account.

My daughter went to her branch to investigate.  She was told that they could not locate the deposit and since she did not have her receipt there was nothing they could do.  Did you just hear my head snap around to look at the teller?

Ok, fast forward to this past Monday.  I went to my branch of the bank to pick up some papers that were faxed to them from the mortgage department.  The first thing I get told is that no one has seen these papers.  You guessed it.  The steam began to flow out of my ears.  The teller supervisor at my branch is a wonderful, caring, helpful woman who walked from behind the teller window and investigated what might have happened to them.  After a few minutes, she came walking out from a back office with papers in hand.  Needless to say, no one else was interested in assisting me.

It was at this point that I decided to voice my dissatisfaction with the institution that had the honour of taking care of my money.  I spoke to one of the officers of the branch explaining all of the unbelievable crap that I had been going through since my husband had passed away in 2016 and the lost deposit was just adding insult to injury.

She very diligently lodged a complaint with the home office.  By the time I arrived home, my phone was ringing.  This woman, I’ll call her Pia, (get it? as in pain in the ass) was not the least bit happy with me for lodging the complaint because she was the one responsible to locate the missing deposit.  She also felt that for my daughter and I to suspect that the money was pocketed by the teller was just the worse thing that she had ever heard of.  I explained that when my daughter investigated what happened to the deposit she was basically told that there was no recourse.

Now, here is where it gets really good.  My daughter used her debit card.  So, how is there no record of the deposit?  I specifically asked this Pia if there isn’t a record of every time the card is swiped.  I was told yes.  I asked if the bank card number was a unique signature.  I was told yes.  I asked her if the teller used the bank card, can’t she determine what happened.  I was told yes.

My daughter went back to the bank to again look into it.  She did not remember the exact date, but it was the last week of January.  She was told that there was no way for the bank to generate a report on her bank card.  So, in other words, tough cookies!

Ok, that’s the history.  Today Pia, called me to tell me that my daughter’s story is inconsistent and that there was nothing she could do about the missing money.  In other words, she insinuated that my daughter lied about the deposit.  Her reasons for saying nothing could be done was the fact that there was no receipt, she could not remember the exact date and that there was no record of her accessing bank 24 the online customer service site to have the home office look into it.

Can you imagine my reaction?  I told her that number one, my daughter was taught not to lie and she had no reason to lie about a deposit that was causing her so much grief.  For the record, my daughter is 46 years old.  Number two, I reminded Pia, that she had told me that a receipt was not necessary and further told me the debit card would indeed have a record of the transaction so it was not necessary to know the exact date.  Number three, the darn bank 24 customer online service has not been working for the last several days.

Now here’s the kicker.  Pia told me I was lying.  I asked for the name of her boss and a phone number I could reach that person with.  She refused to give it to me.  Can you believe this?  I was livid!

First thing Monday I will be closing my accounts.

I was so upset that I sliced open two fingers as I tried to cook supper last night!



The Nest


Prompt for #SoCS July, 29, 2017:  limb


In front of Dottie’s house there is a tree that a red bellied wood pecker had it’s nest this year.  I loved watching the birds going in and out of it.   The nest was in a big hole in a part of the tree that was dead and had no limbs so it could be seen easily.

I noticed a coupled of weeks ago that the nest had been abandoned.  I was so disappointed because I had gotten used to the birds being there.  Every day I checked to see if any other birds took over the nest, but it remained empty.

We had a bad storm the other day and the part of the tree where the nest was broken off right at the top of the nest.  What a disappointment that there won’t be woodpeckers nesting in that tree anymore.




The Sealing

Stream of Consciousness July 22, 2017:  Sealing/Ceiling


Many years ago not long after I was married my mom became ill with cancer. She was unable to stay home by herself when dad was working, so she came to live with us. We put a second floor onto our house so mom was able to have her own little place with us.

Gary and I had the shell, ceilings and plumbing done for us, but we finished everything else ourselves. I learned more about construction than I ever wanted to know. I learned how to build, spackle, paint and seal walls. We installed doors. We laid carpet and tile. It was quite the learning experience.

When we were finished, it looked like we had actually known what we were doing. My dad had had a construction business at one time  and he spent many hours teaching Gary and I what we needed to know.

After mom passed away, we began working on the downstairs because at that point we had seven bedrooms and we didn’t need that many. The first thing we did was to convert the original living room into a large dining room. Then we renovated our kitchen, downstairs bathroom and opened up the three downstairs bedrooms into one large family room. We took more walls down and moved them then there was originally in the house. By the time we were done with the house, it looked nothing like it started out.

After the kids moved out to go to college, I had a fall which led to complications and I was no longer able to use the stairs. I was forced to live in the family room for a couple of years. As time went on the cold weather also became a problem for me. So, the decision was made to pack up, sell the house and move to a warmer climate with a more practical house.

We lived in that house for twenty seven years. We raised our family in that house. Our home was the gathering place for all of the kids. I never thought I would leave our home and it saddened me that we had to. I was afraid I would lose all of my memories when I left my home. Then I realized that memories don’t reside in things located in a specific geography. They live in your heart. They travel with you and keep you feeling safe and warm no matter where you go.  They are sealed in your past, present and future.




On Parade

SOCS June 24, 2017



As I was standing in the rain watching the reigning Queen pass by in the beautiful carriage with the huge horses, I could see the driver pulling on the reins to stop them from moving too quickly along the parade route. What magnificent animals those horses were. It made me think about the time when I was a child when my Uncle Francis took me horseback riding.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t such a great experience for me. I imagine that the horse I was on wasn’t a really big one even though I thought it was massive. Anyway, I was quite frightened. I guess the horse could sense that and he wasn’t too gentle with me. I really think I was making him nervous. I fell off of the horse.

I didn’t get hurt badly. But my pride was damaged and I would not get back on the horse. To this day I still will not ride a horse.  I have been told that I am really missing out by not trying again.  But I am happy just watching these animals.



 #SOCS June 17, 2017


Here are the rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” “Begin with the word ‘The’,” or simply a single word to get your started.

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people can come and read your post! For example, in your post you can write “This post is part of SoCS:” and then copy and paste the URL found in your address bar at the top of this post into yours.  Your link will show up in my comments for everyone to see. The most recent pingbacks will be found at the top. NOTE: Pingbacks only work from WordPress sites. If you’re self-hosted or are participating from another host, such as Blogger, please leave a link to your post in the comments below.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. Even better, read everyone’s! If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. As a suggestion, tag your post “SoCS” and/or “#SoCS” for more exposure and more views.

8. Have fun!



Image result for signs   Image result for signs

Image result for signsImage result for signs

Image result for signs   Image result for signs

Related image   Image result for signs

Signs, signs every where signs.

Which ones to follow, which ones to ignore.

Questions, directions, suggestions, recriminations the signs of our times the signs of our lives.

Stop, go, keep left, keep right.

Did I miss my turn?

Does the road go straight?

I wander through the sea of signs.



To join in, click on image below.


Whether or not you are young or old

Stories are formed and often told.

We mingle out thoughts together and then

We start over and over again.

It matters not how weathered the words we use.

Who knows where tales go or what will be seen.

Just like wood all weathered and worn.

A good tale says a lot about where you have been.