FREEDOM

The Rogue Speaks:

A prompt with 53 words?  I am stunned!  Jenny has practically written our vignette for us!  I should be glad, though!  Less typing for me, and far less "backspace!!"  This prompt is from her first Saturday Centus, but then most of you already know this since almost all of the comments I get on Saturday are from bloggers who regularly participate.

Well, here's my offering, such as it is.  The prompt is in bold type.   Now I'm going back to bed!

FREEDOM 

 I had run far away from the house, and found myself on the jogging trail north of the woods.  I could never again let that man, the father of my two boys, beat me down, spewing venom, grasping my throat in his hands.  One precise kick gave me a chance to run before he killed me.  But now what?  I had only the clothes on my back, and a twenty tucked into my shoe.

The boys were safe at Dad’s for the summer, and if I could get to a phone, I could warn him about Dwayne.  But then what???

My untied shoelace changed my life. As I leaned down to re-tie it, I kicked away a few leaves. When I turned my head slightly to look where the leaves had been, I was astonished to see a rubber-banded wad of hundred dollar bills nestled in a little indention in the muddy ground.

KISS MY GRITS

The Rogue Speaks:

Whew!  What a day!  I took four of my paintings to an art auction, sold three, and may have sold the fourth as well.  I left before it was over, because I could hardly wait to get home and write my Saturday Centus.   By the way, I'm a little like Jenny these days because I'm way behind in reading the posts of all my blogging friends, but I WILL read them all--it's just going to take me a while.  In the meantime, please read as many of the offerings on Jenny's blog as you can.  We work hard and love to get comments!

KISS MY GRITS!!!!!

"Cheesy grits!  Sausage and fried eggs, red-eye gravy, and biscuits to sop with!  I'm living the dream,
man....."

"Hahahahahaha! We showed that rich Northerner guy in an LLBean plaid shirt just what we do to folks like him! He thinks he can come down here with that pasted on smile and those dead eyes, strutting around like he has a cut-off broomstick handle shoved up his......"

"Hush, Jim Bob! There's children present!"

"Oh, sorry! That guy thinks he can say, 'ya'll,' and we'll pull the lever for him. We may have lost the war ONCE, but we're not losing it again!"

Riding the Orange Blossom Special

The Rogue Speaks:

I'm not going to whine and complain about the current lack of my typing skills--I'm just going to give you a post I wrote two springs ago.  The orange and lemon trees are in bloom right now, so I know that spring is really here.  I hope Miss Jenny, our Alphabe-Thursday teacher, gives me a good grade on this essay!!

O.k., not oranges, but they smell great!

RIDING THE ORANGE BLOSSOM SPECIAL
Spring, 2010

Just as I was finishing this post, Rod came home from the golf course. He noticed that our little girl, Precious, had peed on the tile floor. She is 13, which is 91 in dog years. Whenever this happens, which is more frequently the older she gets, we put Clorox in the grout lines, then wait a few minutes and mop the floor with Fabuluso Limpiador Multiuso(remember that we are only 85 miles from Mexico). Clorox is pretty strong stuff, and not something we use on a daily basis. In fact, we only use it for pee stains on the tile. The odor gets in your nose and makes your eyes burn. It is NOT eco-friendly!


After I finished, I thought I would go outside to try and get the odor of Clorox out of my head. This is not an easy task. It gets into your mucus membranes and hangs on for dear life. As I sat there trying to clear my nose of that noxious odor, I remembered a field trip that our 4th grade class in Atlanta, Georgia took to the Kraft Food Company. It was pretty interesting, I guess, but the thing that I will never forget ever is the smell of Velveeta cheese being made. This is not a pleasant smell, even though the cheese makes pretty good queso when mixed with Rotel.


My point is that I have NEVER forgotten the smell of that cheese factory, nor have I forgotten the smell of salted pistachios my parents used to buy when I was VERY small. Our noses can bring back memories like no other organs in our bodies.


I remember the smell of the salt marshes off the coast of Georgia, where we vacationed when we were children. I love that place! Whenever we go back for a quick trip to our old summer stomping grounds, the first smell of the marshes brings such peace to my soul.


I still remember the smell of a dear friend's aftershave when we were in high school. He was always a lot of fun! We used to play the piano together, and dance latin dances in my living room, and make up stories about giant cockroaches trying to take over the planet--all the usual things you do with your friends. He even took me to get my driver's license after I failed the test the first time and my dad told me I was on my own the next go-round. Whenever I smell that aftershave, I think of him. He died of heart failure several years ago, but he is still alive in my mind.


I remember, too, the smell of my babies after their baths--the smell of Johnson's baby lotion and powder that gets into the creases of their little necks and releases that clean aroma when you nuzzle them, just before you put them down for the night.


I know you thought that The Orangeblossom Special was a song about a train, or whatever. To me it is the breeze that shows up in Tucson about this time of year when the citrus trees are blooming. It wafts over southern Arizona, bringing with it the most wonderful fragrance! You cannot go anywhere around town these days without that aroma filling your nostrils.


The pastel pictured above, "Lemons in a Blue Bowl," really doesn't do justice to that fragrance. The canvas would be HUGE and covered with vivid blue skies, glossy green leaves, and splashes of yellows, oranges, and creamy whites. I did paint a pastel of oranges on a silver tray, but didn't photograph it before it sold, so the lemons will just have to do.


If there were a blue bowl in the painting, it would be the biggest one you have ever seen! We don't have any citrus trees in our little yard, but they are all around us. Our neighbors and friends give us bags and bags of citrus, on a weekly basis. We eat it fresh, squeeze it, and freeze it for pies in the winter. We pile the lemons, oranges, and grapefruits in bowls on our counter and dinner table. Some of our friends make marmalade, but quite frankly, I am just not that ambitious. Besides, we  buy a five pound bag of sugar maybe only every two years, if even that often.


But getting back to that aroma--the reason I am writing this. It will be here for a couple more weeks, but then that fragrance will be replaced with the smell of jasmine and honeysuckle for a while. This time of year always makes me feel especially good, because my olfactory senses are bombarded in such a way that it goes straight to my brain and settles there until the monsoon comes and replaces it with the smell of the creosote bush after the rains come.


When I am very old, like 95 maybe, and I smell the aroma of citrus blossoms, I will remember my life here, and how wonderful it was, and how creative I became, and just how fulfilling the southwest has been for me.


I hope that whoever cares for me when I am old, will put a little Johnson's lotion on my tissue-paper skin, so I will remember the aroma of my babies.  On second thought, I don't think I will need a reminder at all.

Wishful Thinking!!!

The Rogue Speaks:

Yes, I know I missed Alphabe-Thursday, but I'll be back with it next week.  Too much going on, and way too much typing for my errant right hand.  So here is my offering for this week's Saturday Centus.  We have a prompt from Jenny, and it is in bold type, and we only have 98 words total.  I asked my right hand if we could do this without screwing up, and  then I humbly leaped into the breach!

WISHFUL THINKING

In my daydream, I was finally able to play the violin, and ice skate like a professional without falling on my butt.  The doctor, a wonderfully brilliant, kind, and compassionate man, had confirmed the diagnosis, and it wasn’t some vague “pinched nerve” in some obscure place.  He didn’t treat the symptoms—he actually FIXED the problem!

He listened, and took notes!  He thought carefully about treatment.   Then, at last,   I was cured!  And the bill?  It was only 98 cents!!!

“Doctor, “ I asked, “can I play the violin?”

“Of  course!” he replied.

“Funny!  I never could before!”

I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!!!!

The Rogue Speaks:

Just before Christmas, my trapesius muscle on my right side went into spasm.  I have a brachial plexus lesion, which I have had for over 30 years.  It hasn't bothered me in a a couple of years, but now the pain is relentless, and I have had all I can take.  I have had muscle relaxants, pain meds, physical therapy, and a Tens unit which I use ALL DAY EVERY DAY, and still the pain is there.  The fingers on my right hand have a life of their own, and typing is so laborious!!!  On Monday I plan to fire my GP, who has been "treating" me for 3 MONTHS!   I can't even get a prescription filled without an office visit!  All he wants is the MONEY!  He doesn't even read the reports until I am actually in the examining room!  There was a time when doctors went into medicine to HELP PEOPLE!!!!!.  WHERE ARE THOSE DOCTORS?????

"Good things come in fives??"

My hurt is worse than hives!

My pain is in my back!

(I'm so sick of this!!)

My doctor is a QUACK!!!

That's all for today, Centusians!  Head over to Jenny's and read the other offerings for her brilliant
Saturday Centus!  I'm outta here!!!!

OH PUHLEEEZ!!!!!

The Rogue Speaks:

Since I missed last week's Alphabe-Thursday, I am combining the letters "O" and "P" and hoping the teacher won't notice.  She's way too busy unpacking and setting up her new REAL kitchen, I think.  I really could add "R" to this post, and if  my hands aren't working next week, I might consider that, and just leave this up.  I stole the picture below from my friend Bluz's post, incidentally!!

America has had enough of this SOCIOPATH (he fits the psychiatric definition to a tee).  It is his only purpose in life to incite the undereducated, angry, narrowminded people in this country.  I think that Ms. Fluke should sue him for slander.  I think all his advertisers and radio stations should dump him like the moldy stuff stuck in the back of the fridge--the stuff one smells upon opening the door!

Rush was born in Cape Girardeau, Missouri in 1951.  His father was somewhat disappointed in Rush because he  couldn't seem to apply himself to anything more that just talking a lot about stuff.  After high school, which was definitely not his finest hour, he went to Southeast Missouri State, but became a dropout after only one year.

He loved radio, because he loved  the sound of his own voice, but was fired from practically every job he had because he was said to be "too controversial."  He just couldn't seem to keep his fat mouth shut!  When he finally landed his current show, I think he decided to put his sociopathic brain to work in order to garner support.  I think he said to himself, "I should try to think like an undereducated, angry, narrowminded, religious fanatic!!  I can read that person's mind!  I'll just say what that person is thinking!  I'm brilliant!  My 'talent is on loan from God!' (that last bit is an actual quote, by the way)."

He's a drug addict, as we all know, but did you know that when the police investigated, they also found that he had 57 Viagra pills that were not prescribed for him.  Maybe he thought they were TicTacs.  Wait! What is the masculine word for "slut?"  Speaking of sex, this freak of nature has been married four times.  The first two marriages lasted two and three years, and the third marriage lasted ten.  "Why so long?" you ask.  Well, maybe it was because they 1. didn't live in the same house, and 2. they were never seen in public together.  What does that tell you??  He married his current wife in June of 2010.  The jury is still out.

I believe that Rush Limburger should be dropped from the airways.  Other commentators have been dropped for going too far, so why should he be any different?  If you read my Saturday Centus, you know that I have a little fire theme going, left over from my post on Nero.  So let's cover him with pitch and set him on fire!  With all that blubber, he should keep burning for at least a week!

So long, Rush!!!

youtube Bonfire by Craig Morgan

Maddie's Story continues

The Rogue Speaks:

Aya's Depression by artist, Mall

O.k, so it's Monday, and I'm late for Saturday Centus.  So sue me!!  I had a rough weekend!  I won't tell you what I did, but let me just say that it did not involve great food and alcoholic beverages. Plus, I'm sure Jenny will understand, since she probably had a pretty tough weekend herself!!  Fortunately she did give us a prompt that I could work into my story of Maddie,  so here it is!  I also found the perfect painting to accompany the story on a very fascinating blog by Mall.  Please click on the title of the painting to check her out!!! I you're just coming on board, click here to read  the beginning of Maddie's Story.   After my nap,  I'll read your offerings as well!!

Maddie's Story continues:

It was sadly quiet in the car. A lone tear escaped and ran down Marin's cheek. Even though Maddie wasn't aware of her surroundings, saying goodbye was harder than she thought. Simon looked straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. Finally, Marin spoke.

"Our little girl, Simon, our little girl is just so sick! She doesn't even  know us! That monster! I want to kill him for what he's done. I want to douse him with gasoline and set his clothes on fire, so he suffers, like he made our baby suffer!"

“First, they have to find him.”