Gregory’s Bible Stories: Abram Gets a Sweet Deal

Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories.

Today in Sunday School Gregory learned about what happened when Abram and Lot decided to go their separate ways after getting kicked out of Egypt.  Gregory couldn’t help imagining how everything might have happened.

GregoryThe Lord Gives Abram a Sweet Deal!

In last week’s lesson, Abram became the Lord’s new favorite person, and the only thing Abram had to do to maintain his status, as such, was move to Canaan and have  cart-loads of kids which in those days were called descendants.

But first Abram took a detour to Egypt where he told the Egyptian King it was okay for him to sleep with his sister who was really his wife causing the Lord to fire up his smiter and smite the Egyptian king with a biblical disease from The Lord’s Big Book of Biblical Diseases.

Long story short,  Abram and his wife, Sarai and his nephew, Lot, had to schlep all the way back to Caanan  carrying all the riches they managed to wheedle out of the Egyptian king once the Egyptian King gave them the ol’ pharaoh heave ho.

Then Abram and his nephew, Lot, started up a company called  “Just Goats!” conveniently located just off the cart path between Bethel and Ai.

Abram and Sarai looking at a goat or a sheep

Everything was going great until Lot started messing with the business plan:

Lot:  Hey Uncle Abram, besides offering a senior discount for anybody over 600, I was thinking since we’ve got all these camels running around, we should start selling camels in addition to goats.

Abram:  Camels are disgusting. Nobody wants a camel.

Lot:  We could say they are super-sized goats.  Nobody will ever know the difference!

Abram:  Nobody wants a super-sized goat that’s really a camel.

Lot:  Then would you mind if I took the camels and opened my own business in beautiful downtown Sodom?

Abram:  You can do anything you want with those stupid camels as long as I don’t have to clean up after them.

Lot:  That won’t be a problem, Uncle, because everybody knows what happens in Sodom stays in Sodom, ha ha!  Get it?

Abram:  Sorry, I’m not much of a laugher.

So Lot took the camels and headed off for the Jordan Valley and Abram stayed in the land of Caanan with the Caananites and the Perizzites — a  pretzel-loving parasitic people.

As soon as Lot was out of hearing range, the Lord said to Abram:

Lord: From where you are look carefully in all directions — because I am going to give you all the land you see!

Abram:  Wow!  Thanks!  Would you mind if I got up on the roof first?

The Lord:  I am going to give you so many descendants that no one will be able to count them all!

Abram:  Uh, I’m not big on kids.  I mean the babies are cute — but as we all know, they eventually turn into teenagers.

The Lord:  It would be as easy to count all the specks of dust on earth!

Abram:  Are we still talking about kids?  I hope not.

The Lord:  Now go and look over the whole land because I am going to give it all to you!

Abram:  Gosh thanks, but would it possible to still get the land but maybe fewer kids?  Hello?  Lord? Hello?  Hello?

When the Lord quit answering  Abram’s calls, he decided to make the best of things by moving his goats, his slaves and his wife to a place called Mamre at Hebron.

There Abram build an altar to the Lord and hung out his  “Just Goats” shingle.  Then he settled into the long process  finding babysitters, interviewing nannies and building a cart-load of boarding schools.

And that concludes our bible story for today, Dear Readers.  Please remember to check back next week to see what happens.

Abram's descendants

Until next time . . . I love you













Circular Vacationing

Copyright John Dixon

George where are you? I hear you — but I can’t see you.

I’m by the crooked tree!

Which one?

The one shaped like an S.

But they’re all shaped like an S.

I’m by the one that has a curlicue branch growing out of it.

But they all have curlicue branches growing out of them.

It’s wizened!

Oh wizened. That’s helpful, George.

Hey! You’re the one who insisted on vacationing at Macramé World, Marge!  Marge?  Marge?

I’m over here, George!


By the crooked tree!

Which one?

The one that’s shaped like an S.

* * *

If you would like to participate in Friday Fictioneers, go to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple, write a 100-word story inspired by this week’s picture and  link up.  It’s fun!  It’s refreshing! You’ll like it! 

Until next time . . . I love you


Farewell to Thee — My Beloved 3 3 3

Dear Readers, today marks the very last entry for the Trifecta Writing Challenge.

 After years of dedicated service to so many of us  writers, the editors have decided to close up shop and pursue new and exciting adventures.

I can honestly say, I’ve never had so much fun writing as I have writing for the wonderful and thoughtful writing challenges the editors at the Trifecta Writing Challenge set up for us each week.

It boggles my mind when I think of how much time and effort, thought and dedication they put into it. And I learned so much about how to write and met so many wonderful writers!

I appreciate all that they’ve done more than they’ll ever know.  And so it is with a heavy heart that I write this final challenge.

Farewell to Thee My Beloved 3 3 3

 Ah! Creative bliss!

Our weekly word bouquet

Where our words did pile up

 In fabulous array!

But over now, just let me say

There’s really nothing worse

When pretty-little, piled-words

Must scatter and disperse

 With much love and appreciation from just a few of those who would have never existed without you,

Tracey Hollaway
Mr. Wondlewinkie
Deputy Darwood Blick
Melvin Meebee
Wesley Nonlinger
Strutner Von Puddlepants
Mrs. MacSmathers
El Guapo
The Knee Deepians
Puffy Weemers
Piedmond Poink
Toots Tenyada
Heebs Hoover
Spendal Braun
Layla Bernice Stub
Annamarie Anabella Dot
Specks MacDiddles
Benjamin Feldermyer
Roger Lapew
Sarah Bubbles
Marty McDump
Chlorine Carmichael’s Mother
Markie MacGiggles
Magnificent Jones
Spinkz McCoy
Valeria Lafoot
Zingy Zanderlini
Judy Beyerstrom
Ingernelly Asp
Myopic Kate
Vince Valdarian
Turnelly’s Junkyard Hamster
Quasar Pottimas
The Angel Landsburyians
Dilly Dallyer
The Residents of Panhandler Pennsylvania
Father Ozzie
Rear Admiral Rasputin Riboflavin
Jake Spitzwater
Marlene Frappizio
Dr. Sarandon Rap
Pamela Darling
Smolden Farlington
Shelden Pilfington
Little Horribella
Nigel Cornhusker
Larry Flerd
Becky Slater

Yaard Flunder
Don Bunkley
Studs McCain
Charlie Center
Al One
Talligas Harrington
Don Deeble
Helen Henderdorkle
Miss Penelope
Pickles the Snake
King Tut’s Righ and left-hand man
Dr. Cartwheel


Until next time . . . I love you

Gregory’s Bible Stories: Abram, The Lord’s New Favorite Person

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories.

Today in Sunday School Gregory learned about God’s new favorite person, Abram and his journey to Canaan.  Gregory couldn’t help imagining what that journey must have been like.

Gregory's bible stories by Linda VernonAbram, The Lord’s New Favorite Person

As you will remember from last week’s Tower of Babel lesson, the Lord made it clear that trying to build a tower to reach to heaven was numero uno on the list of boo boos in The Lord’s Big Book of Boo Boos.

So the Lord had no choice but to scatter mankind all over the earth and confuse the language so that if one man said, “please pass the unleavened bread,” the other man would respond by killing two donkeys,  marrying his sister and untying all his camels.

Life went on in this confusing way generation after generation.  The Lord didn’t really seem to notice anyone in particular until Abram came along.  Then the  Lord decided Abram was his new favorite person.

The Lord had big plans for Abram which included moving Abram, his wife, Sarai, his animals, all his stuff, his slaves and his nephew, Lot, to the land of Canaan.

 And so began their journey:

Lot:  Hey Uncle Abram!  Did you see that sign back there on the road?

Abram:  No what did it say?

Lot:  It said, Welcome to Canaan.  Sacred Tree of Moreh one mile!

Sarai:  Finally, I’m so hungry I could eat a goat.

Abram: Sorry Sarai, the goat is for a sacrifice to the Lord at the Sacred Tree of Morah where I’m going to build an alter.

Sarai:  Tell me about it!  I didn’t say the goat I said a goat.

Lot:  Uh oh, Uncle Abram.  It looks like we forgot to bring the alter building supplies.

Abram:  Oh nuts!  Everybody keep your eyes peeled for an alter supply store.

Abram and Sarai and Lot and all their animals and all their slaves and all their stuff were continuing on their journey to southern Canaan when a famine hit:

Lot:  Hey Uncle Abram, I’m starving! When are we stopping for lunch?

Sarai:  Oh look, Abram, there’s a Goat Burger King!  Can we stop?

Goat Burger King employee:  May I take your order?

Abram:  Yes we’ll each have a goat burger, an order of figs and a large pottery vessel of water.

Goat Burger King employee:  Sorry we’re all out.

Abram:  Of goat burgers?

Goat Burger King Employee:  Of everything but the water.

Abram:  Fine just give us three waters then.

Goat Burger King Employee:  We’ll have to charge you for water.

Abram:  Why?

Goat Burger King Employee:  Because you’re not ordering any food.

Abram:  Listen here, young man! Perhaps I forgot to mention that I am the Lord’s favorite person on the planet, right now, and unless you enjoy being smited . . .

Goat Burger King Employee:  Three free waters comin’ right up!

After that Abram and all his stuff and his wife and his animals and all his slaves and his nephew, Lot, decided to take a detour to Egypt because there was a famine, and they thought they caught a whiff of baked goods coming from that direction.

Smelling Egyptian Baked Goods

Abram:  Listen Sarai.  You’re a beautiful woman.

Sarai:  Tell me about it.

Abram:  And, as such, the Egyptian king is going to take one look at you and want to kill me because I’m your husband.

Sarai:  Tell me about it.

Abram:  So I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind saying you’re my sister.  That way I can use my relationship to you to get lots of free stuff from the king.

Sarah:  Tell me about it!

So Abram told the King that Sarai was his sister and the king bought it hook, line and sinker and told Sarai that she could  not only sleep in the king’s palace but in the king’s master bedroom on the kings master bed right next to the king — if she didn’t snore too loudly which, as luck would have it, she didn’t.

The King was so pleased with Abram’s wife’s not snoring that he gifted Abram with sheep and cattle and goats and donkeys and slaves and camels.

But then the Lord found out about all the not snoring going on with the Egyptian King and Abram’s wife, Sarai, and it made Him so mad, He brought a terrible disease on the King and on the people of his palace so the Egyptian king sent for Abram:

Egyptian King:  The  Lord is super mad at me because Sarai is your wife, and we’ve been not snoring together all this time thus causing the Lord to bring down a terrible disease upon us! Why didn’t you tell me she was your wife?

Abram:  Uh . . . you didn’t ask?

Egyptian King:  Take all your stuff and your wife and your slaves and the Lot you brought with you, and get out!

Abram:  Do I get to keep all the sheep and the  cattle and the slaves you gave me?

Egyptian King:  Are you kidding me? There is absolutely no way!

Abram:  I don’t really care, but the Lord was wondering . . .

Egyptian King:  Like I said there is absolutely no way!  No way you’re not going to take them with you as my lovely parting gift, that is!

So Abram and his wife and his nephew, Lot, and all his stuff, and his slaves and his animals went north out of Egypt.

Lot:  Jeepers, we sure made out like bandits in Egypt didn’t we, Uncle Abram?

Abram:  You can say that again, right Sarai?

Sarai:  Tell me about it!

Abram and the King of Egypt

And that concludes our bible story for today, Dear Readers.  Remember to check back next week at this time to see what happens next!

Until next time . . . I love you

Nature Inspired Art by My Brain Peanuts

Welcome to Saturday, Dear Readers!  Today my brain, Peanuts, went on strike and simply refused to come up with any ideas for today’s post.  So Peanuts and I went out for a little walk in nature and here’s what we found:

A leaf, a pine cone and a stick
A leaf, a pine cone and a stick

We found this leaf and this pine cone and this stick.  Frankly I don’t think that a leaf, a  pine cone and a stick are all that inspiring. However, Peanuts thought they were hugely inspiring.

Here’s some art Peanuts drew inspired by a leaf, a pine cone and a stick:

A Duck
Moose and Squirrel Squirrel not pictured
And Moose and Squirrel sans squirrel
A mighty stallion
A Grateful Mother


Twiggy made from real twigs
Hunch Back of Notre Dame
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Marge Simpson
Marge Simpson

And there you have it Dear Readers!  A little nature inspired art by Peanuts.

Until next time . . .I love you

Do You Suffer from Jam Side Down Syndrome?

The Scenario:    Shuffle to computer holding toast and jam.  Promptly drop toast and jam — jam side down — onto computer keyboard. 

Now most people would label this as the beginning of a very bad day — a Jam Side Down Day, if you will. But for me, it’s simply part of my normal, everyday, existence.

That’s because I suffer from a syndrome called  Jam-Side-Down Syndrome or JSDS.  You’ve probably never heard of it before due to the fact that I just now made it up.

Jam in happier times.

Now, even though I just this very moment made up Jam Side Down Syndrome, not to worry, Dear readers, I’m sure there will be a pill for it coming out on the market any minute now. (Remember to ask your doctor about it.)


Extremely rare photo of Jam Side Up. Experts cannot agree as to its authenticity.

And I bet this new  miracle drug will probably be no more addictive than your average heroin cigarette and with a risk of side-effects no more dangerous than, say, marrying Henry the VIII.

So no big whoop all the way around!  Wouldn’t you agree?

Now it seems the only thing left for me to do is think up a quiz that would indicate whether or not a person might be suffering from JSDS.  Well, that’s smple!

Do You Suffer from Jam Side Down Syndrome? The Quiz!

1) How many articles of clothing are hanging in your closet this very minute that have jam stains on them?

a) one

b) two

c) 17  perhaps?

2) How many times did you slip on some jam and fall down the stairs this morning?

a) one

b) two

c) 17 perhaps?

If a tree fell in the forest do you think it would land jam side down?

a) yes

b) no

c) 17 perhaps?

Suppose you were skydiving while eating toast and jam and your parachute failed to open. What odds would you give yourself of landing Jam Side Down?

A)  7 out of 23

B) 132 out of 6

C)  17 perhaps?

Suppose you were walking through a beautiful garden and were hit on the head by an asteroid with jam on it that was hurling to earth at a tremendous speed.  Would the undertaker have to charge extra for washing jam out of your hair?

A) yes

B) No

C) 17 perhaps?

So there you have it, Dear Reader.  If you answered yes, no, or 17 perhaps?  to any of the above questions, you are most definitely suffering from Jam Side Down Syndrome BIG TIME!

Quickly!! Put down that toast and jam and call your local pharmaceutical company immediately. . . there’s not a minute to lose . . .oh . .  and please, please try not to get jam all over the phone!

Until next time . . . I love you

The Neck of Polly Petunia Penelope Peck

Polly Petunia Penelope Peck


Polly Petunia Penelope Peck

Had a heck of a time with her tubular neck


When through the town’s center she’d venture to walk

People whipped on their glasses in order to gawk


Her head bobbled and wobbled and tilted unsteady

(Which is par for the course when your neck’s like spaghetti)


And when desert winds blew from the south (Santa Anas)

Her neck!  It would bow like Chiquita Bananas!


Twas in such a state that she met her man, Nate

(He’s a sucker for woman whose necks oscillate)


And married got they — on the fourth of  July

Polly wore shorts and a turtleneck (high)


And happy they lived all their lives ever after

With Nate’s head in the clouds and hers in the rafter

* * * 

Until next time . . . I love you

Linda’s Activity Page for Grown Up Children

Welcome Dear Readers! I thought it would be fun to post the very first Activity Page for Grown Up Children!

Let’s  start with some hidden picture fun!

Activity #1:

Uh oh!  It seems Arianna Slippington slipped into a vat of syrup again!  Poor, dear, clumsy Arianna!  Now she has all sorts of things stuck to her!  Can you find them?


How many things did you find hidden in Arianna’s hair and stuck to her clothes?  

Did you find 8 things?  Good for you!  What about 10 ten things? That’s just super! But if you found all 12 things then you are very very very good at finding things stuck to someone who fell into a vat of syrup and got 12  things stuck to them. Give yourself a great, big gold star!

Activity #2

Uh oh! Dear Readers!  After slipping into a vat of syrup it looks like poor, dear, clumsy Arianna Slippington got herself into another jam!  She accidentally (or maybe on purpose) ran over her hairdresser at the drive-through beauty salon!  Whoops! Poor, dear, clumsy Arianna Slippington!

Now Arianna is on death row and in just a little while Arianna will be served her very last meal. Cut out the Arianna paper doll and the outfit you would like her to wear for her very last meal.

Arianna Slippington paper doll

Which outfit will you choose for Arianna?

Dress # 2

Dress #1 (1)

Oh very good!  The outfit you picked was a very good choice!

In fact, poor, dear, clumsy Arianna Slippington looks so  adorable in the outfit you picked  for her last meal, you deserve not one, but TWO GOLD STARS!

Activity #3:

Now it’s time to connect the dots to see where poor, dear, clumsy Arianna Slippington will go next! 

Connect the Dots to find out where poor, dear, clumsy Arianna will go next!


Did you successfully connect the dots?  Let’s find out.  Does your picture look like this?

Arianna Slippington in heaven

Yay! You connected the dots successfully.

And good news!  It looks like poor, dear, clumsy Arianna Slippington made it to heaven after all!!  Don’t you just love it when activity pages have a happy ending?


Well, this  concludes today’s activity page for grown up children, Dear Readers!  Please check back soon for more activity page fun.  Until then, remember to exercise caution when walking near a vat of syrup or driving through the hair salon.

Until next time . . . I love you

Swearing Off My British Murder Addiction

Dear Readers!  I woke up this morning from a horrible nightmare in which I found a puppy the size of a humming-bird clinging to a branch at the bottom of a swimming pool.  

I managed to pry the puppy off the branch and attempted to get help for it by running with it in my arms over the Golden Gate bridge — which had washed out during the night and had to be replaced by a wobbly wooden bridge that didn’t quite meet the other side– even though they had gone to the trouble of painting it the actual color of the golden gate bridge.   (There was also a flood where people wearing soccer uniforms were rushing by.)  I woke up terrified!  I know it doesn’t sound all that scary — but it really was a terrifying nightmare!

This looks a lot like the puppy I was carrying.  It was absolutely terrifying!
This looks a lot like the puppy I was carrying.  It was beyond scary!

You see, Dear Readers, I’ve started having nightmares lately, and I’ve never been much of a nightmare person.  And so this morning, I was earnestly  trying to figure out the cause of these nightmares when it hit me what the culprit was:

Amazon Prime and the BBC

I signed up for Amazon Prime awhile back. I don’t remember why, I really think it might have been by accident.  Anyway, they have 40,000 movies and TV episodes to choose from.   So I started binge watching British detective TV shows in the evenings.

While my husband, 37, was happily watching the science channel, I would only be pretending to be awed about what will happen when the sun becomes a red dwarf — because all the while I was watching –with one eye and one earphone — murders galore!

Murders that were dark and bloody and creepy and murdery as all get out.

And I just realized this morning (about ten minutes ago) that watching all these murders night after night are giving me nightmares!

Oh sure, I know a nightmare about having to carry a puppy over the golden gate bridge doesn’t sound like much of a nightmare,  but you’ll have to take my word for it that it was not only a nightmare, it was my  nightmare wake-up call!

So Dear Readers, as of today, I’m swearing off my British murder addiction.

No more Amazon Prime for me.  I’ll go back to watching the science channel with 37.  I won’t even mind watching that girl scientist they have on sometimes with the weird bangs, because no matter how horrible her bangs are, they  won’t be murdering anybody now, will they?

"Stop!  I can't take it any more!"

Honestly, I don’t know why it took me so long to put 2 and 2 together about my nightmares.

I guess as much as I love British TV detectives, I’d make a lousy one.  First of all, I have trouble following plots, so I’d have to have a sidekick explaining things to me everywhere I went, and, of course,  I’d only be able to solve murders that didn’t involve any freeway driving to get to the crime scene (especially on that wrong side of the road the British are so fond of ).

And as much as I like faking an English accent, I’m horrible at it — so I guess it’s best for all involved I’m not a British TV detective.

I’ll keep you posted on how it’s going with swearing off my British murdering, Dear Readers.  I only hope I can do it on my own and won’t have to join a murderer’s anonymous support group.

Wish me luck!

Until next time . . . I love you

Gregory’s Bible Stories: The Tower of abel-Bay

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory.

Today in Sunday School, Gregory learned about how all of Noah’s descendants got together to build the tower of Babel, and he couldn’t help imagining how that might have happened.

GregoryThe Tower of abel-Bay

Even though Noah lived to be 950 years old, he never topped the time he saved the animal kingdom and mankind from extinction.  Still, he kept busy puttering in his vineyard and joking with his sons about how many grandkids it would take to put oil in a lamp.

After awhile though, there were so many kids being born that parents quickly ran out of the easy to pronounce names, like Gomer, and had to resort to giving them names that were so hard to pronounce everybody just called everybody else “hey you in the robe.”

Then they all wandered around together veering east, until they came to a  really nice valley in the land of Shi’nar so they decided to build a city there and call it Babylon in lieu of Shi’nar — thus circumventing thousands of years of annoying apostrophe placement questions in one simple decision.

Hey you in the robe #1:  Hey everybody!  Doesn’t this look like a really nice place to build a city?  Let’s name it Babylon.

Hey you in the robe #2:  Why Babylon?

Hey you in the robe #1:  Because we’re all more or less a baby of Noah.

Hey you in the robe #2:  Okay that explains the baby — but why the lon?

Hey you in the robe #1:  Lon means city.

Hey you in the robe #2:  No it doesn’t!

Hey you in the robe #1:  What are you, an attorney?

Hey you in the robe #2:   I’m a linguist.

Hey you in the robe #1:  How’s business?

Hey you in the robe #2:   Pretty slow what with everyone speaking the same language using the same words and whatnot.

Hey you in the robe #1:  Dude, you’re complicating my buzz!

Hey you in the robe #2:  Come again?

And thus it was decided to build a city and call it Babylon, and it was also decided to build a tower with its “top in the heavens” so that they could make a name for themselves by replacing the banner that said “If you lived here you’d be home now!” with whatever their names were.

Hey you in the robe #1:  What do you want to build the city out of?

Hey you in the robe #2:  Let’s make bricks and stick them together with tar!  What’s wrong, you look disappointed?

Hey you in the robe #1:  I was kind of hoping we’d use Legos.

Hey you in the robe #2:  Come again?

“Do you still want the Legos?”
“Nah, we have to use bricks.”
“Says who?”
“Hey you in the robe.”
“That guy bugs me.”

After the city and the tower were built, the Lord came down for a site inspection.

Hey you in the robe #1:  Well how do you like it, Lord?

But the lord only answered by saying out loud to himself and his new heavenly companions that he met on Faceofgodbook, “This is just the beginning of what they will do, soon they will be able to do anything they want!  Let us go down and mix up the languages so that they will not understand each other.”

Hey you in the robe #1:  Hey you in the robe #2, what did the Lord mean when he said that?

Hey you in the robe #2:  Icksnay on the Owertay!

Hey you in the robe #1:  Come again?

Hey you in the robe #2:  Lord no likee.  We’re all being ansferredtray.

Hey you in the robe #1:  Where toski?

Hey you in the robe #2: evelandclay.

Hey you in the robe #1:  Oway itshay!

Hey you in the robe #1:  You can say that againski!

And there you have it, Dear Readers, how Gregory imagined what really happened at the Tower of Babel. Be sure to check back next Sunday to see what Gregory learns in Sunday School!

Until next time . . . I love you

Tower of Babel

Flipping Through The Slightly Creepy Seventies

Welcome,  Dear Readers, to the weekend here at the blog! And because it’s Saturday,  we’re just going to kick back, drink some coffee, and flip (or flick if you’re from the UK) through old magazines from history’s  easiest decade to make fun of — the slightly creepy seventies!

Bettter Homes and Gardens 1976
Today we’ll be looking through a Better Homes and Gardens from 1976,

Let’s turn to the page, shall we

Look Younger for your Kids

Happily here’s a problem I’ve never had.  Wanting to look younger for my children.  Who wants to look young for their children?  I just figure as long as my appearance doesn’t embarrass them, they probably won’t ever notice how  young (or old) I look.

And how did slightly-creepy seventies mom stay looking young for her kids?  Well, by washing dishes by hand that’s how!

Ivory Soap
Back in the seventies, it didn’t matter if you face looked old as long as your hands looked young

Back in the seventies, having young-looking hands  was really a big deal.  Nobody cared about your face so much, but,  boy oh boy,  if your hands looked old, it was all over sister!   And the best way to keep your hands looking young  was to sell your automatic dishwasher and wash all your dishes by hand using Ivory liquid dish soap.

Well this is an interesting headline:

Slightly-Creepy-Seventies Cookware that was smarter than some women
Slightly Creepy Seventies Cookware that knew more than it was telling

Apparently back in the Slightly-Creepy Seventies,  only ‘most women’ were better cooks than their cookware.  There must have been some women wandering around the slightly creepy seventies whose cookware could cook better than they could.  How embarrassing!  I only hope their kids didn’t think their hands looked old –or they would have been sailing down the Slightly Creepy Seventies Creek without a paddle.

Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool
Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool

Okay, I’m not even exactly sure what a tool is, Dear Readers, but I’m pretty sure the guy in this picture represents The Quintessential Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool.

What?!  No!!

Ethel Mertz

Our beloved Ethel Mertz as Maxine the Coffee Lady?  That’s just straight-up I Love Lucy blasphemy!   I think you’ll agree, Dear Readers, it’s this kind of  bizarre strangeness that makes the Slightly Creepy Seventies, slightly creepy.

Well that and stuff like this too:

Floor Covering

Apparently it wasn’t enough just to have ugly tile on your floors in the slightly creepy seventies, they had to go and make little sticky linoleum tiles that looked just like  your ugly floor so  you could stick them on your walls and on your cupboards and on your furniture and on your cat.

Which is probably why more people went blind from staring at ugly tile than at any other time in our nation’s history.  And, perhaps not coincidentally,  more people were happy to have gone blind than at any other time in our nation’s history.

Here’s some  slightly creepy seventies towel folding:

Folding Towels weird
There is no way those towels are going to fit in that basket

I’m sorry Slightly-Creepy Seventies  housewife lady but that is a stupid way to fold towels  in any decade!  (But if it’s any consolation your hands do look young — what we can see of them anyway.)

Remember these?


They were called notes.  And it was the way people kept track of their activities and whatnot in the Slightly-Creepy Seventies  before there were smart phones and text messages.

And they didn’t work very well either:

One Day Early

Whoops!   Somebody didn’t read their slightly creepy seventies notes!

And finally, let’s end on this little bit of slightly creepy seventies fashion:

Captain and first mate t-shirts

Okay, I can’t actually prove it, but what do you want to bet this couple with their matching Captain ‘N First Mate  t-shirts are the proud parents of The Quintessential Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool.   Oh, and  you’ll notice they’re also  hiding their hands.  Apparently they have an electric dishwasher.

Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to close the magazine now, Dear Readers, as there is only so much of the slightingly creepy seventies we can take in one sitting!

Until next time . . . I love you

Explaining Friday with Charts and Graphs

Dear Readers!  Good News!  It’s Friday here at the blog.  What does Friday mean to us?

For some of us, Friday means it’s the last day of the work week and that the next two days will be spent in pursuits of our own choosing!

On the other hand, for those of us who are off all week and who have to go to work on Saturday and Sunday then Friday means it’s actually Sunday and tomorrow isn’t really Saturday at all — it’s Monday, meaning of course, it won’t actually be Friday, in a case like that, until Sunday!

I know it sounds confusing, Dear Readers, perhaps this  helpful chart will be helpful:

Helpful Chart created by Linda Vernon

Now as you can see by this helpful chart, if it’s Sunday, and you have to go to work on Thursday, but you have four Wednesdays off in a row,  it won’t actually be Friday until Tuesday afternoon.  Or maybe it’s the other way around.  I’m alway getting those two confused.

Maybe this graph will better illustrate my point:

Graph that better illustrates my point
Graph That Will Better Illustrate My Point

There now!  Isn’t that better?   Oh, and if you look in the lower-right hand corner of the Chart That Better Illustrates My Point, you will see that Friday tolerances are not cumulative!   Wait . . . that doesn’t take into account leap year.  Oh I’m so embarrassed.  Wrong chart!

Here’s the chart I should have shown you in the first place:

The Chart I Should Have Showed You in the First Place
The Chart I Should Have Shown You in the First Place

As you can see, if you are here, and it’s Friday but you have to work on the weekend, then today is really uh . . . wait . . . okay, now even I’m getting confused.   Ha ha!  Isn’t that the way it always is on Fridays/Sundays (or possibly Wednesdays)?

Screw it,  Dear Readers!  Let’s just cut to the chase and go directly to the chart that is Self-Explanatory:

The Chart That Is Self Explanatory

The Chart That is Self Explanatory
The Chart That is Self Explanatory

I think you’ll agree, Dear Readers, that the person who came up with this chart to explain the different days of the week as they pertain to Fridays is a self-explanatory genius!  After all, it’s not every mind that can boil down a complicated “Friday” concept to  simple spleens, elbows and inner thys.

But just in case, you are still a little confused about whether it’s Friday, Sunday or next Tuesday, I’m pulling out the stops and throwing in a picture just to be on the safe side.  But not just any picture.  I am throwing in a picture that tells a thousand words.

A Picture That Tells a Thousand Words

The Picture That Tells a Thousand Words.
A Picture That Tells a Thousand Words

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  There’s really nothing left to say about Friday, Monday or any other day of the week as far as I’m concerned.

Have a great weekend!

Until next time . . . I love you

The Drawing Lady Teaches Us How to Draw Louie XIV

Good news, Dear Readers!  The Drawing Lady, everybody’s favorite tortured art teacher, is going to teach us how to draw a portrait of Louie XIV of France!

But please remember that The Drawing Lady has only recently recovered from the last lesson she gave us — when we made her so frustrated with all our questions and bad drawings — that she felt compelled to jump from the sixth story art school window — breaking every bone in her body.  

She’s since recovered but– . . . oh here she comes now . . . remember best behavior everyone . . . 

The Drawing Lady, everybody's favorite tortured art teacher
The Drawing Lady, everybody’s favorite tortured art teacher

Today The Drawing Lady will be teaching us how to draw a portrait of Louie XIV of France. Perhaps, Dear Readers, you are asking yourselves why Louie the XIV of France and not a rock or a fence or a horse?

a rock, a fence and a horse

Dear Readers!  What did we just talk about?  You are upsetting the Drawing Lady already with all your questions!  The Drawing Lady would simply like you to draw this portrait of Louie XIV of France to the best of your ability.

Louie  XV of France

The Drawing Lady says now  you try:

Louie XIV of France

Like this, Drawing Lady?  Is this good, Drawing Lady?  Does this look like Louie XIV of France, Drawing Lady? Did we get the  expression in the eyes right, Drawing Lady? 

Dear Readers,  The Drawing Lady is acknowledging that you have attempted to draw Louie XIV, but that is all.    She has begun hyperventilating ever so slightly  and implores you to try harder, much much harder.

The Drawing Lady would like you to try again by drawing this portrait of Louis XIV by Rigaud:

Louis_XIV_of_France by Rigaud

The Drawing Lady says now you try:

Louie XIV by Linda Vernon

Like this, Drawing Lady?  Is this good, Drawing Lady?  Did we produce  a distinctive aesthetic experience for you, Drawing Lady?  Do you like the way we drew his legs, Drawing Lady?  

Dear Readers!  The Drawing Lady has taken a break from her hyperventilating to swear a blue streak!  She cannot believe how poorly you have drawn the example!  The Drawing Lady absolutely insists  that you put more umph into it this time or she’ll  . . .  well let’s not think about what she’ll do.

The Drawing Lady would like you to try your very best to draw this portrait of Louie XIV in battle.

louis-xiv The Battle of Blenheim

The Drawing Lady says now you try:

Louie XIV The Battle of Blemheim by Linda Venron

How’s this Drawing Lady?  Did we get the horse’s feet right,  Drawing Lady?  Do you think we were able to capture his generosity of spirit, Drawing Lady?  

Dear Readers, the Drawing Lady is currently screaming into a pillow and therefore cannot answer your question bombardment.   She is giving you one last chance to redeem yourselves, Dear Readers,  by drawing this portrait of baby Louie XIV of France or she’ll . . . or she’ll . . . well, let’s not think about “or she’ll’s.

Baby Louie XIV

The Drawing Lady says now you try:

Baby Louie XIV by Linda Vernon

How this Drawing Lady? Do you think the  flower is impassioned,  Drawing Lady?  Why are you opening the window, Drawing Lady? . . .  Drawing Lady? . . .   Drawing Lady? . . . 

Dear Readers, I regret to inform you that the Drawing Lady has exited the building via her usual way —by plunging from The Drawing Lady School of Art’s  sixth story window.

This conclude our drawing lesson for today.

The Drawing Lady takes another Plunge

Until next time . . . I love you

The Crossroads of My Duck

Welcome Dear Readers!  What do 4,966,661 WordPress bloggers have in common?

Everyday bloggers just like you and me — except that they all have different names and different faces and probably aren’t the same height — are participating in a little thing called the WordPress Daily Prompt.   Here’s today’s prompt:

Life is a series of beginnings and endings. We leave one job to start another; we quit cities, countries, or continents for a fresh start; we leave lovers and begin new relationships. What was the last thing you contemplated leaving? What were the pros and cons? Have you made up your mind? What will you choose?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us CROSSROADS.

The Crossroads of My Duck

The Crossroads of my duck Linda Vernon humor


I loved you, Duck, through pain and strife

Twas really hard to leave you

At the crossroads of your life

(I didn’t mean to peeve you)

You were my confidant, dear

For no one else I turned to

I seared you in that pan (for luck!)

I didn’t mean to burn you


The pros and cons of eating you

Were too numerous to list

l’orange?  With honey?  In a stew?

(I’m sure you get the gist)


Oh little duck, my feathery friend

You have no counterpart

But truth is friend (I can’t pretend)

My stomach won my heart

Until next time . . . I love you


My Brain Peanuts Remembers: Penny Candy

Hello Dear Readers!  Welcome to this edition of My Brain, Peanuts, Remembers.

Today’s Topic:  Penny Candy


Growing up during the cold war wasn’t all that bad. That’s because the cold war wasn’t exactly cold and it wasn’t exactly war. The cold war was really more of a squabble between two little-girl super powers arguing over whether Barbie should live in Barbie’s Dream House or on Barbie’s Soviet Union Collective Farm — except that if these two little girls ever got mad enough to start pulling ponytails, mankind would have been wiped off the face of the planet.

But while the constant threat of getting blown to smithereens at any given moment wasn’t a pleasant thought, we kids of the 1950’s were pretty much able to shrug it off.

After all, we had pop bottle empties to redeem, money to collect, and penny candy purchasing decisions to make!

Here are some of my thought processes when it came to making penny candy purchases in the cold war:

Black Licorice

When investing in penny candy, I always made sure I included at least one stick of black licorice.  Black licorice came in long, braided sticks.  It not only cleansed my palate for other penny candy flavors, but also, it was a tremendous bargain.

A stick of black licorice was about eight inches long, and in the event of a national emergency such as a nuclear attack by the Russians (the only kind of national emergency that existed in the 50’s), a highly-disciplined child might be able to survive a week or more by rationing a single stick of black licorice– providing, of course, the child was safely tucked away in a bomb shelter or, failing that, not quite so safely tucked away in grandpa’s aluminum foil- covered basement.

Never take refuge in an aluminum foil basement without at least one of these
Never take refuge in an aluminum foil basement without at least one of these!

Red Licorice

I always felt red licorice to be a far inferior penny candy to that of black licorice both in flavor and in value. Aside from the obvious drawback that it was Commie Red, red licorice was also much shorter than a stick of black licorice – making it a much less suitable choice for atomic bomb holocaust survival.

Because when you really think about it, how long could a kid actually survive after a nuclear holocaust on one lousy stick of red licorice — bomb shelter or no bomb shelter?  (And that’s not even taking into account the fact that one measly stick of red licorice would make for a really lousy last meal.)

Commmie Red
“Here’s your last meal.”
“Never mind, I’ll skip it.”

Pixie Sticks

Pixie Sticks were paper straws filled with a sickeningly-sweet, Kool-Aid-like, powdery substance that came in a variety of flavors such as: cherry, lime, orange, grape and lemon.  All the flavors tasted the same except that they turned your tongue the color of whatever flavor you thought you were eating.

I have no idea what that powdery substance consisted of — but if you were to look at my sorry dental X-rays from that era, it was probably some sort of concoction devised by Russian scientists to penetrate the Colgate Shield.

Penetrating the Colgate Shield
“Uh oh, Billy. It looks like the Soviets have been tampering with your Colgate Shield, again!”

Jaw Breakers

Jaw breakers were the “ve have vays of making you talk” penny candy of the cold war world.  A jaw breaker was a ball of sugar hardened to the consistency of steel (probably utilizing secret technology stolen from the Russians).

Jaw breakers were designed to do one or all of the following things:

1) break your jaw

2) shatter your already cavity-filled teeth (see Pixie Sticks) 

3) administer death by choking.

But despite these drawbacks, jawbreakers remained a reliable penny candy purchase if only for the sheer excitement of sucking on them while cheating death.

Sputnik Jaw Breakers

The most memorable jaw breaker of cold war penny candy was called a Sputnik. 

It was blue with sharp little spikes sticking out of it.  It had that telltale 1950’s mysterious blue candy flavor you could never really put your finger on – maybe because it was derived from blueberry extract with just a hint of radio- active isotope but we’ll never know for sure.

"Care for a Sputnik?" "No thanks I"m trying to cut back on my radio active isotopes."
“Care for a Sputnik?”
“No thanks I”m trying to cut back on my radio active isotopes.”

The United States government was pretty sore when the Russians beat us into space by launching the Sputnik satellite; but not as sore as the Sputnik Jawbreakers made the inside of kids’ mouths all over America.

Bubble Gum

There were two types of bubble gum to choose from: Double Bubble and Bazooka.  Both came with comics wrapped around a little pink squares of bubble gum and each had a dividing line down the middle so that it could be divided equally and shared with a friend or comrade (if it came to that).

I always preferred Double Bubble simply because I felt the Double Bubble comics were funnier than Bazooka’s.  Plus, I never much liked Bazooka Joe. He seemed untrustworthy with that patch over one eye, which, looking back on it now, probably had a miniature camera hidden in it to document whether or not American kids blew bigger bubbles than Russian kids.

"Look at funny American kid trying to blow inferior bubble!"
“Look at funny American kid trying to blow inferior bubble!  Kremlin will get kick!”

Kids today just don’t realize how lucky they are to not have to worry about such things while making their penny candy purchasing decisions.

On the other hand, one piece of penny candy now costs $2.59 –so I guess everything has a way of evening itself out in the end.

And there you have it, Dear Readers.  My brain, Peanuts, remembers penny candy.

Until next time . . . I love you