Belaboring A Point

“Why did you invite your parents over on the most horrible night?”  Harriet asked Clem.  “It’s pouring!”

 

“When I was young,” he explained, “they forced me to visit their insane relatives who had perfect rooms no one was allowed to go into, and bowls of wax fruit. They drove me nuts. I wanted the last laugh. I’ll hide their umbrellas when they get here.  Then when they ask what to do I’ll point to those fakes and say, ‘Sorry, those are all we have.’  This way maybe they’ll finally understand my point.” 

 

She just shrugged and humored him.

 

 

Welcome back to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.  Read all about it on her blog.  This week’s photograph has been supplied by Dale Rogerson . Click on Coqui the frog to add your link too.

Annunci

Distinctive Work

“I feel ridiculous in these leiderhosen,” Hannelore told Urs.  “Are you positive this was the only job you  could get us?”

 

 

“Relax,” he said. “We’re a cinch to do well. All we have to do is pop out the clock door every fifteen minutes and play ‘Ach du Lieber Augustin’ on our tuba and accordion.”

 

 

“Each hour, of course, we note the time,” he reminded her.  “It’s quite simple. You’ll see.”

 

 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” She reminded him.  “We’re in a clock! That doesn’t bother you?”

 

 

“You’re such a stick in the mud,” he replied.

 

 

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s

Friday Fictioneers.   Read all about it at her link.   J. Hardy Carroll has supplied this week’s photo prompt.

 

 

Help the Poor In New York City

Each month we participate with incredible people in a monthly food walk which starts in Little Italy, Manhattan. We are asking all of our people in the five boroughs of New York and surrounding areas to get involved by sharing this post and tagging any restaurants or food businesses (don’t have to be Italian) who would be happy donating warm or cold meals or supplies for this cause. To find out more you are welcomed to DM us. Please Share and TAG us in your posts. This is an opportunity to do something for people who have a lot less. Many blessings to you for taking a moment to share, or comment with a tag. 🙏🏻🙏🏻 

Major Adjustment

Clarence, recently widowed after sixty years of marriage, liked to reminisce about his wife Mabel.  A resident at Wilkes~Barre’s Little Flower Manor, he always played Kate Smith’s “When the Moon Comes Over the Mountain” when he felt nostalgic.

 

 

“That was our wedding song,” he cheerfully told visitors and friends.  Everyone noticed that he wasn’t handling things well but he never admitted it until he was alone in his room.

 

 

That was where he felt free to stare into space, in dead silence.  Until he admitted his problem, no one was able to help him.

 

 

Welcome back to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Read all about it on her page.  This week’s photo was supplied by Gah Learner .

 

Uneasy Lies the Head That Wears A Crown

D’Artagnan and Mecthilde~they always have pompous names~were looking into their mirror in dismay.

 

 

“I don’t understand, darling,” the queen said.  “Is it a threat about tomorrow, a reminder of yesterday?”

 

 

They’d  been plum horrified for years about the one disadvantage of their family’s curse. Their mirror kept showing them things, but without an explanation.

 

 

“Robespierre,” she asked their page, “Might you know where we could find someone who could help us interpret these messages, please?”

 

 

“Alas, Madame,” the servant admitted charily, “The cost of leadership is high.  One must always rely only upon one’s wits.”

 

 

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s  weekly Friday Fictioneers. Read her blog to find out what it’s all about.  This week’s photo prompt was generously contributed by Nathan Sowers and his grandmother, Dawn M. Miller .

 

St Therese of Lisieux: Disciple of St John of the Cross

Carmelite Institute of Spirituality

From the archives!  A talk by Fr. James Geoghegan, OCD in the Evening Lecture Series at the Carmelite Institute of Spirituality in Stanwood, WA on May 23, 1990.

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The War Between Helen And Nellie

“They’re from the local Fundamentalist church,”  George told Harvey. “Their preacher’s getting them ready for the End Of the World.”

 

 

“That reminds me of my Aunt Helen,” Harvey complained. “They called her Nellie, and isolated her so completely from her friends and family.  It’s as if she didn’t have parents, or any other history, until she met them.  Her ‘Helen’ persona was completely eliminated and all her reading material was replaced with only a K.J.V. Bible.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Yes,” George admitted. “By control of symbolism,  government, story telling, and education, ideologues can mold a whole new life for someone.”

Greetings, fellow internet people.  Please join us yet again for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Read her page to find out how it’s all done, please.  This particular post isn’t really, ultimately, about religion. It’s about fundamentalism and fanaticism in general, particularly the secularist ideology that currently has so very many people on the shortest of leashes. Thank you to Carla Bicomong for contributing the week’s photograph.

Musical Milestone

“Although my staunchly Irish Catholic family considered it a mortal sin, that day I wasn’t paying attention to the rioting in Northern Ireland’s Derry.

 

Seated at the living room table, which was cluttered with artifacts of all the vices of our day, I was consumed with my Gretsch guitar, practicing with friends.

 

 

“Just think!” Bernie reminded us. “Everybody from Hendrix and Jefferson Airplane to Joan Baez and Janis Joplin will be there this weekend!”

 

 

“Feh!” Helen bragged. “We can be just as good. After all, we have been practicing constantly for the past three full months together!

 

 

It’s time yet again for Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneers.  This week, Yvette Prior supplies our photo prompt.  Please read Rochelle’s blog for all the details.

10500 Cielo Drive

It was  August, 1969.  Jason, Bernie, and Helen were on summer vacation from Walt Whitman High School. Slightly over a year ago was the second Kennedy assassination, and they were losing lots of friends in Southeast Asia.

 

 

Eagerly awaiting the imminent release of the Beatles’ ‘Abbey Road’ album, they were listening to the white album, and hoping to go to Woodstock in a week.

 

As they were enjoying songs like ‘Blackbird’ and ‘Helter Skelter’, a sudden knock came on the door.   Pam and Larry, stunned, asked: “Have you heard what’s happened to Sharon Tate and her friends?”

 

 

This summer saw the fiftieth~milestone~anniversary of the R.F.K. assassination, and tomorrow is the forty ninth anniversary of the Manson family’s murder of Sharon Tate, Leno and Rosemary La Bianca, and their friends.  Please join us for our weekly jaunt through Rochelle’s  Friday Fictioneers.  This week, Ronda Del Boccio

supplies the photo prompt.

The Willoughby Moment

Last night, as I often do, I took a ride on New York’s subways and the L.I.R.R.  I was confronted by the usual cast of characters~the bad musician, the disgruntled black radical on his soap box, and the young woman who routinely loses control of her bodily functions in one of the cars.

 

 

“Just once,” I told the conductor, “I’d really like to see a halcyon scene like that inside these cars.”

 

 

 

 

“Sir,” he explained.  “That’s a Willoughby moment.  We pass by here daily so each passenger can enjoy a respite from all the inevitable insanity.”

 

 

Welcome back, yet again, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Read all about it, please, at her site.  This week, Sandra Crook supplies the photograph.