Saturday, July 30, 2005

Ash Night and Musk

You of ash night and musk;
dark like lava rocks cooling.
You once told me that truth
lives on the edge of dawn within
grasp for a fleeting moment.

In truth, it is easier to catch,
like a moonbeam across shadows.
You must be bold enough
to attempt such a feat,
as wrangling elusive truth.

Ash night and musk entwine
in the haze of summer heat.
We seek the secrets of hearts,
dancing wildly in sultry embrace;
a tango of dawn rising.

Truth to you is five letters,
representing your fluttering heart.
But to me, it is more complex
like the weaving of plaid fibers
for a blanket to warm us.

~ ~ ~ ~
Not sure if I am done with this poem...

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Stresed to Kill

I spent almost 30 mins writing about how stressed my dad makes me, when I realized that by writing about it I felt better but... did I really want to post it.

So I erased it.

And realized that I had purged myself and... there was no need top spray my blog with it.

I told dad today that he's 'stressed to kill.' He's having chest pains. I sent him to the doctor. He doesn't know I called the doctor's office and told them he's still smoking and not sleeping due to stressing over work. Bet dad's gonna be pissed at me.

Tough tootie...

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Lost: One Baseball

Found: by Sherrielock Holmes

Ben lost his baseball last week...I found it this afternoon while pulling weeds from around the grapevine.


Ben's Puppet Show... Amazing and exciting..and I'm not lion.

A fairy in my petunia patch? No, it's a Hummingbird Moth.

My first watermelon... maybe in another week or so it will be in my tummy.

Stabbed by a Leaded Pencil

Before I begin my tale of woe, I have an announcement:

I'm the champion Southeastern Hairball Bowler. It's an unofficial title that isn't up for challenging, so don't even think about breaking my record...hey, if I keep my record a secret, then no one can break it...damn I'm soo smart. ( don't hate me because I'm smart, hate me because I can hairball bowl.)

In case you don't pay attention to my silly blog of fun links....
here's the link to it

Ok... I've been slack by not blogging of late...blame that on my work load and my problematic work Computer.

Bruce Springsteen is in NC doing the concert scene. I couldn't make either show... I guess its a good thing... Bruce, my darlin' wouldn't have worked anyway... what we have is precious I know...but think of those we would hurt... it's better this way. I'll never forget you. At least we have our song..."I'm on Fire." We'll flame from afar, Bruce... we'll flame...

Sunday, I was looking in a bag of hodge podge art stuff for a drafting pen to highlight some pencil drawings I was working on and my right forefinger was stabbed by a very sharp leaded pencil...a #2 to be exact. It killed. I pulled it out but part of the tip stayed. I home-doctored it. But this morning I noticed that it was festered and hot to touch with red streaks going up the finger to my hand. Had to take my brother to work, and once I did, I stopped by the urgent care and they checked it out. Lanced it, swabbed it with some red stuff and then...Gave me a tentus shot. Ouchie. And a sample of some type of heavy duty antibacterial ointment. It's bandaged and a pain to work with. Cost me $105 !!!!

That's my news for now...not that it's all my's all my fingers can handle for the moment.

Friday, July 22, 2005

Attack of the Crape Myrtles

They are blooming. Lovely to look at but I hate them. My sinuses are clogged, my eyes are itchy and I'm sneezy. My front line is weakening. My defense has been advil sinus tablets, but they're not fighting the problem effectively. My generals are meeting and I've been informed that they're sending a special forces team to the pharmacy to find a top-secret weapon that will diminish the resistence.

They will not win!
I will survive.
I am almighty.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

No Bruce

Bruce Springsteen... I wanted to see him in concert this Sunday but won't be able too... No one wants to go and I don't feel comfortable enough going on my own. Too many bad things could happen.

The new guy...Tommy has been attentive all week. He's taking me to see a baseball game tomorrow and I think Sat, we're going to dinner. I thought..."hey, he might go with me to see Bruce." So I asked and he laughed. He said, "I don't like Bruce Springsteen. Nor Bob Dylan Nor Rod Steward..."(I think he said some other names) "But I'll take you to a Tim McGraw concert anytime. I like Country Music."

Strike ONE.

I don't like Country. I grew up on the classic country--Conway Twitty, Loretta Lyn, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, etc...but I can't relate to today's country music. I think its full of wanna be rock stars trying to grab the attention of today's youth.

But I would still go to a concert if he asked me to go. One makes exceptions. Hell, in 2003, I saw Mike Love's Version of the Beach Boys...if I can do that, I can go to any type of concert.

But I guess Tommy doesn't feel that way...I do know this...his saying yes and going with me to see Bruce would have caused my 'clothes to fall off faster.'



Yesterday was a blast. Though my ears are flaming red because I forgot to put sunscreen on them.

The nephews had fun. I thought William would be afraid of the water but he fooled me. He was really funny when he tried to impersonate the surfers. I told him once he learned to swim, he could get a bodyboard and ride the waves with it. I hope Lisa will let him take lessons next summer. Ben didn't like the waves at all. He wouldn't go in the water unless Lisa or I held him. I'll tell you this..he's a heavy little guy. I showed him how to make sandcastles with his bucket and he spent most of the trip trying to make a place for Spongebob Square pants to live in. He dug a hole which filled with water. I told him all he needed was a fish and it would be "Ben's Sea." He said, "Go get one" and pointed at the ocean. LOL.. the things they think I can do.

I did see some hot guys...whew... it was all I could do not to let my top fall down and say "Oops can you tie this for me?" Don't think my sister would have liked that too well. Whenever I would point out that some guy was fine, she would say "Remember, we have children with us." SOOOOO? What has that got to do with drooling in the sand?

My sunburn isn't too bad. I took John S's advice and put sunscreen on my feet...though my left big toe got neglected and it's really red today. Most of my sunburn is on my ears, the area behind them (I wore my hair up), an area on my chest and one spot on my right inner arm.

It was fun...the trip, not the sunburn. I needed a day away from this town, this job, this...everything.

Look at what I caught at the beach.....

But my sister made me throw him back!

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Beaches and Pirates and Mermen

My sister Lisa is on vacation this week. Tomorrow we're going to the beach for the day. By we, I mean my sister, the nephews and me.

According to William, we'll be fighting pirates. Ben thinks we'll see Spongebob Square Pants. Lisa's worried about sharks and me...well, I wouldn't mind seeing a Merman.

I've already packed a bag with sunscreen, beach towels and inflatable beachballs. Lisa says I'm full of hot air, so I expect to be able to blow them up when we get to the

Monday, July 18, 2005

The Party Sat Night

... it was fun. Grilled chicken, hot dogs and burgers. I took a watermelon and some other fruit. Made some sweet dip to go along with the fruit. Which was goobled up fast. With it being so hot, the cool fruit was refreshing.

I actually took a dip in the pool. I don't like to go to pool parties where alcohol is served. Many of the guys let their lupine side show then. Wore a modest cobolt blue one piece suit. Had a matching sarong and a sheer top to wear with it.

Before the girls could start their "Scary Sherrie" tales, I turned the tables. I told the same stories but made different ones the 'culprit'. When they would deny it, I would say "My she doth protests too much." Wisely, the stories were dropped and when I was accosted in private about why I did what I did, I reminded them of the first rule... "What we do stays at the clubs, unless we are talking amongst ourselves." They realized I was right and apologized. I don't mind us laughing together over dinner or lunch, but when they start telling stuff to strangers who don't know me, that's when I get upset. First impressions are important and I don't want the thought of my hand on a stripper's cock to be the first thing they think of when they see me.

I've been thinking how if I hadn't of let Dena pressure me into going to the party, I wouldn't have been re-acquainted with a guy I knew in High School who is divorced and available...who was happy to see me again and whom I spent 90 % of the night talking too and who I have a dinner date with Sun night and lunch today.

His name is Tommy and he's 43. 5' 10 with green eyes and golden brown hair. A handsome guy...and Another freaking Gemini. But he does get my humor and he says he's always known I would be a writer one day. IT blew me away when he said that. He asked if I remembered a world cultures class we took together (He was a senior and I was a junior). I said I did and he told me that he loved to hear me give my presentations or projects (we had to do one each month), because I wrote with a touch of humor and made it all interesting.

He used to go to Peckers when I dated Allen and we talked about that. He met his former wife there and we talked about that. But I could tell he didn't have a lot of baggage from it. He's been divorced a few years but doesn't get out much. He said he's tired of the bar scene and wasn't going to come to the party until James, Dena's hubbie held his arm behind his back and made him say he would or he would break it (James does stuff like

I'm glad he decided to go. I'm trying not to appear too excited over this. Don't want to jinx it but... he kissed me softly on the lips when he walked me to the car and he said "Sherrie ... Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?" The stars were so bright. But his eyes were brighter and I said, "yes, I would love too."

We went to a cozy Italian place Sunday night. It was so romantic. We talked and laughed. He had me home by 10. Gave me a soft kiss goodnight. Then asked me to have lunch with him today. I did. It was a short one because I have so much to do.

The only thing that annoys me about him is that whenever I say or do something that catches him off guard he says, "You're different than you were in high school."

Duh... it's only been 24 years ago! Of course I'm different. He is too. I've made jokes about it, hoping he'll stop saying that. Don't confuse me with the girl I was.

Last Thursday

William and I saw Herbie Fully Loaded. We were early for the 12:30 showing. So we played video games till I ran out of quarters. There were only four of us all together, watching the movie. But first, we had to sit through 15 mins of advertisements and music. William said, "That song is long." Translation: They're playing too much music.

He did great when the movie came on. We laughed and held hands.

After the movie, we went to McDonald's for some lunch. Ate outside on the playground. When we were finishing our meal, a black boy named Jedidiah (I think that's how he spelled it) jumped over the little brick wall we were sitting beside. William said, "Ahoy there Matey." Jed said, "Huh?" I said, "He thinks you're a pirate because you're so dashing."

The boys played together. Jed's mom came out and asked if it I would keep an eye on him, I said sure. He was a cute kid. About William's height. I think a little older though. Once they bumped into each other and William said "Kay sir rah sir rah." (The Doris Day song)...which he got from me! ... I cracked up.

When it was time for Jed to leave, he shook my hand and said, "You host a great party, lady."

Like I said, he was a charming boy.

Wed of this week, I'm going with Lisa and the boys to Holden Beach for the day. It should be lots of fun. I'll have to bring my sunscreen though...don't want to flame.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Half past July

Another month swimming by.

My sister Lisa's birthday is July 31. I have no idea what to get her. She needs some clothes. Maybe I'll shop for a boring outfit or two. When it comes to spectrums, she and I are on opposites. I'm feminine and adventurous...she's semi-girly and dull. Mom says I'm sunshine...and Lisa's thunder.

Then Dad's birthday is Aug 2. No idea what to get him either.

My mom's John's b-day is Aug 14. Mom's is Aug 21. My brother's is Aug 31 and Ben's is Sept 14.

I call it the birthday circus.

Dena talked me into going to a party at her house tonight. I had planned on hanging out at home with some movies and raspberry tea. She's grilling out and has about 30 people invited over. I think it's James's (her hubbie) birthday. I'll take a bottle of wine just incase it is. He likes wine with meals. Was surprised she and the other hens weren't going to see strippers. They like to go almost every week. I noticed last week that when they tell 'strippers served raw' stories, that the stories involve me. And 80 % is stuff I've never done. Dena laughs at me when I try to correct them. She says "Scary Sherrie, that's the stuff legends are made up."

But I don't wanna be a 'stripper deflowerer legend.'

At least at this moment...

I wouldn't mind being plain ole Sherrie.

Friday, July 15, 2005

This Week

It has been a busy one with electrical storms, work and a day spent with my oldest nephew William. I've written blog posts in my head but haven't been able to retrieve them and post them here. Course after a week, they've gotten mangled by other thoughts.

Ah...lost blog posts...much like lost poems not written it a blessing or a disgrace. That I don't know.

As you know if you've seen the previous post, my 2nd poetry book is available for pre-ordering. I'll get my author copies soon. Then I'll place my orders for those who want signed copies. The second book doesn't have as many poems in it as the first one did. I think there are 82. I noticed the book is 2 bucks cheaper. I've started gathering books for my third poetry book "another sip of sherrie." I think I'll have the poems on the left hand page and a brief explanation on the right hand page...what do you think? is that a good idea?

I'm typing fast, so don't spank me for making errors. But I should be working on a photo instead of writing in my blog. I figured if I didn't take the moment to write now, I might not get another chance today.

Second Poetry Book

Here it is! Available at You'll have to do a search to find it. Use either the title or my name. Or contact me. I'm happy its out. Now to get the Irish Pirate ready!

Monday, July 11, 2005

Oldies But Goodies

When the Hens and I were driving to F-ville Saturday night, I turned the radio to an 80's retro show. Since I was the Designated Driver, I felt I had total control over the radio. "Word Up" by Cameo came on and I started singing along. I remember loving that song, but loving the video more--the singer wore a cock-shield over his pants. Anything that has to be contained with armor has my attention. The Hens were talking amongst themselves, not paying much attention to the music. That's until "Bruce" by Rick Springfield came on.

Here's the lyrics:

BRUCE (Rick Springfield)

Doctor Doctor you got to help me yeah
You got to make it right for me
It seems this other man's name's been
Following me around and it just won't let me be
You see I've got this name and he's got this name too
And they're kind of close only a blind crazy fool
Would think I was him it's like saying green is blue
But let me tell you brother it all started being a bother
When he made the cover of Time magazine
I was at this party in the well heeled hills
Just the other night
Her name was Shelly I introduced myself
She just smiled and said "Oh right"
Well we got talking and drinking wine
She said she liked my music thought it was fine
She said "let's make love your place or mine"
And in the middle of the passion I was on the border line
When she called out a name but it wasn't mine
She called me Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear her calling Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear her calling Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear her
My name is Rick
I'm gonna stick it to you babe
Well there's this kid walkin' carrying a guitar
You know I told him that I play
He asked me my name you know I told him
I said it plain as clear as day
Well he seemed really clearly sincerely impressed
And as he pulled a piece of paper for me to sign from his vest
He said "I thought Born To Run was one of your best"
Oh wait a minute man who do think I am?
He answered
"Mr. Springsteen, you're a famous man"
He called me Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear him calling Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
He called me Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear him
My name is Richard
I'm gonna hit it to you babe
You know my mama called me long distance yesterday
And as she got off the phone I swear I heard her say
Bye bye Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear her calling Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
She called me Bruce (Bruce) Bruce (Bruce)
I can hear her
My name is RickyI'm gonna stick it to you babe
Oh She called me Bruce (Bruce)
She called me Bruce (Bruce)
She called me Bruce (Bruce)
She called me Bruce (Bruce)

I started laughing when I heard that song. I hadn't thought of it in probably15 years. It used to crack me up and I bet you I drove DJ JD nuts by requesting it every hour at Rafters. For parties at my apartment, I would record songs from the radio onto cassette tapes so that it sounded like we had a DJ manning our parties. One particular tape had the Bruce song on it four times. For a brief month, a neighbor would knock on our door and say "Hey Bruce, can you turn down your music a knotch."

But the Hens didn't like it. They started shouting, "Change the station." "I hate Bruce Springsteen." "Fuck the 80's."

I'm like "The 80's were cool. It's not Bruce singing, it Rick Springfield. How can anyone hate the Boss??"

I refused to change the station. Dena said listening to retro music depressed her...made her feel old. It doesn't make me feel old. In fact, I feel young when I listen. Great memories come alive. Places and people I don't think about often are live in my mind, as the song plays. Age is inevitable if we're lucky. We sure can't run from it.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

A poem I wrote and a reply to it.

I wrote this poem Saturday and placed it in a poetry forum I run. It generated an interesting reply that I want to share here.

Shipwreck Soul

I do not have the strength to save you
from yourself,
nor do I possess the keys to heaven;
the free get-out-of-hell card.
I cannot give you sanctuary
from the demons within.

Once upon a soul, I gave you love
the death of my individuality...
what became of me
begot you an entity pure.
But as all love is prone to do,
you fell into a moment of truth.

The ecstasy of eternal bliss dies,
a slow meaningless death.
To keep love alive, one must stroke it,
like the fire that it is.
Left unattended it smothers to cinder.
Do you not know this?

I cannot save you, nor can I give love back
once it is is ash.
You have to find the way back
to your soul, to the heart of you.
All I can do is stand on the shore
and watch you sink or swim.

Now the story behind this poem wasn't posted. But I'll share it here: The subject of the poem refers to Allen--my old love. I came across a letter he wrote me in 1999. I read it and threw it away. The poem above pretty much describes how I feel.

I posted the poem on a few poetry forums and on the one I own this is the reply I got:

"Very Good piece and you are right about power/love within BUT . .you could throw me a rope or a lifesaver

and see if I can figure out how to make use of it ;)

:))) t_z

one line can go "keys to heaven"we all have a set ;)

knock and the door will be opened

When the doors of perception are cleansed all will appear infinite-W.Blake"

~~ ~~ ~~
A bit of history about the guy. He's a Neo-poet. Neoism poetry is all about minimalism in poetry. They are big on saying little when saying a lot. They thrive on haiku and the slaughter of old forms (meaning they rewrite the works of the old masters. Cutting out excessive images, etcs to get to the heart of the meaning). I think whatever floats your ink as a poet is whatever...I have my own voice, another poet has theirs. As you can see, the guy flirts with me a little. I usually ignore it and reply to whatever suggestion he gives.

But this time I disagree with him about the "Keys to Heaven" line. It needs to remain in the poem. Because not everyone knows that all of mankind has a set. You have to believe in yourself, have faith in God to use your keys. Allen for example...he doesn't believe in himself. When we were together, he expected me to be his 'rock that he clung too in the currents of life.' Of course t_z doesn't know this.

The Keys to Heaven aren't necessarily keys to God. Heaven can exist inside our souls, but we have to create the garden with faith in who we are, in our ability to be happy with ourselves... we can't hold onto the painful past. There has to be a time when we need to let it go. And if we sleep with inner demons for too long, there is a big chance of losing all that we love.

When someone that you love, becomes a demon bent on self-destruction and no matter how much you love them, give up for them, offer them, you have to step away from the ship wreck of who they are or you'll drown too. It's called Self-Preservation. Belive me, darling...You can toss out all the life lines you want, but its up to that person to grab on.

Sunday's Gone


I think the song's really called Tuesday's Gone.

As you can see, I was online last night late...doing stupid quizes. Really came on to write but no words would come.

Saturday evening was fun. Got there early. This time the tables were close to where the guys came out on stage. We could see through the curtains of the changing room, every now and then. No schlongs... I told Dena it was a blessing in a way...what if the schlongs were not as impressive outside the bun (thong). It would kill the fantasty.

There was a sister-sister act with us. Some kin of Dena's. They argued the whole freaking night, about everything from "I'm telling your husband" to "Don't tell me to slow down. I'm getting drunk if I want too." With me being sober, it was hard to ignore it.

The male strippers weren't up to standard this time. But then again, I could blame that on being sober, irritated with the bickering and distracted by the opening curtain to the dressing room. I still had fun. There was this one guy, a caramel colored and semi-sexy whose thong reminded me of a turtle shell. It was round and the seaming was obvious. I dubbed him "Turtle Cheesecake." It caught on pretty fast and our section started chanting that. He seemed to think we meant he was sweet to eat. When his dance was over, he worked the crowd. I think this is one of the few times, I've failed to keep an eye out for the crowd trollers--the bad dancers with the good bodies who work the crowds while the hot dancers are on stage. A few of them caught me unawares, so I had to tip them to get them off my lap and their cocks out of my cleavage. I didn't mind when the Turtle Cheesecake came over. I tipped him very well and he gave me a damn good show. Too bad the turtle shell had to stay on. ..heh heh...but I bet if it didn't I would have had to rename him "Turtle Brownie."

After the show, we stayed a while. A really good song came on that called me to the dance floor. When I stood up and said, "I'm going to dance," Dena gave me a strange look and replied, "But you aren't drunk." I knew she was referring to the last time when I got right tipsy. Maybe she thought that was the reason I got up and danced by myself so much. But it wasn't. After 3 years of belly dance, I'm pretty confident in not embarrassing myself on the dance floor and also confident enough not to feel the need to be plucked from wall flower status by some guy.

I'm thinking it was close to midnight when I went to the bar to get some water. Standing there was a familiar face, but I couldn't place it right away. Neither could he place me...we both kept saying "I know you from someplace." We would mention names that neither knew. At first I said names from Lumberton that I am currently in contact with. Then I thought, "Hey I'm in F-ville... " So I named a few people I know there and... bingo... we both suddenly remembered.

His name is Seth and he knew Dale who was the one who set me up with Robert--the soldier I was once so crazy about. Seth had been to a bunch of the parties Dale and her sister used to have. He is one of Robert's friends. It's been ages since I've heard any news of Robert. Dale moved to New York State and I don't keep in contact with her or her sister that much. Seth and I sat at the bar for a while, talking. He caught me up-to-date on Dale's sister and her family. He hangs out with them often. I wanted to ask about Robert. My heart was pounding. I had heard rumors that he was off on Special Forces duties in some remote country.

Seth saved me from having to break-down and ask. He began to ask if I remembered certain people from the parties Dale used to have. If I did, he would tell me what they were up too. Robert was the third person he mentioned. Seth said he was in Iraq until Nov. This was his third and final tour! After that he would be teaching at Fort Bragg , which was what he was doing when I first met him. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't let on that it mattered. We talked until Dena found me. One of the sisters was getting sick in the bathroom and we needed to get her home. Hey, she should have listened to her sister. So I said my goodbyes and we left.

I was silent on the drive home. My mind full of Robert. He made his choice years ago. But for a while last night, I spent some hours going over what might have been.

And today...I haven't. Things are different now. I'm different. So is Robert. Whatever magic we once had would be hard to recapture. Sometimes when you try to go back, you ruin what was. My heart yearns for him. I guess it always will. I can live with the yearning. Hell, if it wasn't for the yearning, I might never have started writing. A comforting thought... the magic we had lives in my words, in my poems ...I like that idea.

Which generic smut novel character are you? (With somewhat relevant pictures!)

The Well-Endowed Kitchen Wench

Look, if you’re going to keep slipping in the rain, at least stop wearing those revealing cotton gowns.

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What kind of artwork are you?

You are the light in the garden!

You are that one ray of light that brightens people's day. Your great personality always shines through, and you warm those you love with it.

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What is your inner-hair color?


You are intelligent and beautful. You are Nature! Down to earth and caring, you are good at giving advice.

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(Phew I was

What Neil Diamond Song Are You?

Forever In Blue Jeans

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What Form of Creative Writing are you?


Mainstream and flexible, fiction can speak to everyone. It's variety is its best strength. Suggesions: Aimee Bender, Italo Calvino, Flannery O'Connor, Chris Abani, Susan Straight, Neil Gaiman

Friday, July 08, 2005

oh... yea

Just realized I failed to mention the FBI guy I know who wants(ed) to see me this weekend; the one who seeks me out between lovers.

I talked to him a few times last week. But his demeanor had changed. I knew he went out one night with some buddies and I'm betting he met someone who caught his attention. Really it didn't matter to me, I've been toying with the idea of coming up with an excuse not to meet.

He pounded the nails in that coffin, when he said in a conversation this past weekend that the title of my first poetry book was cheezy. I thought it was witty and so has everyone else. Maybe that comment was a way to put a wedge between us. I'll worked. No visit planned.

My friend John (j s) asked "and his opinion is?"

I replied, "shit."

and it is... true friendships don't hinge on whether....


Friday! Wow... you know for an abbreviated week it has dragged on.

I'm stressed today due to dad... he's stressed over the digital changes we need to make... and he's screwed up the filing system. I've spent most of the day looking for old negatives from 98-99. Can't find them, but I can find every other file from those years. There are like 50 boxes to go through and it's driving me nuts!

So to calm down, I'm drinking a beer and writing in my blog . Kidding about the beer...

I was talking to Wes from next door. It's a family business too. I asked him if his father drove him nuts, he said "Does a fat kid like cake?"

I told him my first advice to people was "Don't work with relatives." He said, "I don't advise them. Hell, let them find out for themselves."

He's got a point there.

Going out tomorrow night with the "hens." Maybe watching some gyrating almost naked exotic male dancer bump and grind will relieve this stress. I'm driving so there won't be any drinking. But I can still let my hand dip low when I push the money down those g-string pouches. That's like... you know...sort of relaxing.

Thursday, July 07, 2005


I'm feeling better today. More like myself. Nephew William told me last night that when he gets bigger he'll give me medicine so I'll feel like a new girl. I'll remind him of that when I'm 90.

If my memory is still with me then...

My Prayers

....go out to my UK friends in hopes that they and their loved ones are safe.

A Haibun… Driving Home


Driving Home By: Sherrie

Quiet. No sounds around me, except the hum of the car’s motor, driving down the road. A gray mist of heat rises from the asphalt, like a million tentacles from the blue-gray sea. I do not know where I am headed, as the hazy horizon teases me.

tree lines blur
speeding along highway
winged wheels

Hours. I drive by pastures green with wooden fences holding in the lush grass. Day lilies line the ditches in shades of orange and gold. They defiantly refuse to wilt under the sun’s blaze. Overhead Turkey Vultures circle on warm currents.

in lush green
calling to vultures
death and decay

Salt. I travel through flat lands and swamp. Each scenic view becomes a blur, forgotten before it’s seen. My open window introduces a scent of salt—the sea. Ocean gray is the Atlantic. I know her well. She is composed of siren tears, luring ships to shore.

foamy sprays
across rocky shoals
ship graveyard

Quiet. I sigh, as I watch the tide roll in, teasing my toes. There is no beginning and no ending to the horizon before me. The waters are deep and dangerous, yet cool and inviting. The sun’s flame whispers on my skin. A salty breeze entices me, daring me to fly, to soar, to dive…

rocking waves
salt upon my lips
siren reborn

I found the picture on an obscure site.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Surviving far

Still don't feel 100% but I'm somehow making it today. Took in a few orders to copy by Sat and luckily they are mindless jobs that I can do automatically.

Got a preview of the cover of my Saturn & Satin book. It looks lovely. The release date is set for 9/05/05 but I'm told it will be available sooner. It goes to the printer on Monday. I'm happy. Now I need to do the finishing touches on the Irish Pirate and get it ready to publish.

I saw War of the Worlds Friday night. Maybe tomorrow, if the creek don't rise and the cows come home, I'll write a review.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Surveys and My Brother

While John was away, he received a package. I placed all his mail on his dresser, and naturally it was the first thing he opened. Inside was a small box and a large envelope of coupons. He said, "What's this?"

I took it from him and was shocked to see it was a box of tampons.

"Why did you get these?" I asked.

"Oh, probably from one of the survey sites I'm a member of. Sometimes I do surveys in your name, mainly stuff like deoderant."

I perused the contents of the package and realized it was just a sample. But it hit me suddenly...a man doing surveys for women...about products women use...who has no idea what they really are...

I said, "Listen carefully, if they start making feminine protection products in the shape of alien spaceships or footballs, I'm going to gather all my female friends and we will kick your ass."

July 4th Poem


Across the July sky
a light show
of blue, red and white...
singing songs in
patriotic tunes
that allows us
to write, to sing
about the night
with freedom

July Issue of Carolina Potpourri

here's the link


July 5

Guess you can tell I've been busy and haven't taken time to blog.

Things are ok here. Today I've got a king-sized headache, due to being in the heat all afternoon yesterday. We grilled hamburgers at mom's John's farm. I hung out with him while he cooked. Made mom stay inside getting stuff ready. Those two argue about how to do everything and I knew if she helped him grill the food, we wouldn't be eating for several hours.

My brother got home yesterday. I was glad to see him. Funny how quickly we get back into our routine.

Went to G-ville Sat and came home late Sunday afternoon. Was fun. Joyce had a party for her newly-wed brother and his bride. I didn't know many people --neither did the bride. Joyce's Hubbie 'procured' me a guy but there was no chemistry. I spent most of the night either talking to the Bride, who's from Canada and a 'non-available' guy whose live-in girlfriend of 10 yrs spent all her time talking to another woman. He and I hit it off so well that Joyce got 'worried' and kept pulling me aside to tell me I had a guy in the other room. lol... I swear it was kinda funny. I told her I wasn't a homewrecker.... today. But seriously it was harmless chat, mainly about movies.

Today I'm working on some easy stuff. May go home early.

The magazine is up btw...check out the "My links" section of the blog. It's under the My Magazine one.

Sex offender had blog

The guy who was found with the missing Idaho girl had a blog:

Its disturbing. He posted until 3 days before the girl and her brother became missing... and her family slaughtered.