My wife’s Christmas Limoges this year is in honor of our upcoming move to Florida. It’s a miniature picnic basket with plates inside and is topped with a porcelain Starfish. It’s perfect for a romantic lunch on the beach or filled with burgers, fries, and a pup-cup for our schnauzer, Tally, from nearby Freddys. Our new home will be near Casey Key and the grandkids. Here’s wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Christmas Star
This star is not,
On the Christmas tree.
It comes this year,
From the sea.
Florida or bust,
Our move is soon.
We’ll next be singing,
A Sunny tune.
We’ll have our picnic,
Near Casey Key.
As soon as we,
Are Covid free.
A basket full,
Of tasty eats.
While Tally gets,
Some doggie treats.
We’ll fill our plates,
And raise a toast.
To our new house,
On the Gulf Coast.
Or we’ll stay home,
Enjoy the pool.
While the grandkids,
Are off at school.
White sand beaches,
Bright blue skies.
Where we can feast,
On Freddy’s fries.
We’ll travel again,
Beyond the Keys.
And in retirement,
Do as we please.
I hope you get,
Every Christmas wish.
But our star this year,
Is really a fish.
Copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com
I was out splashing in the puddles this morning, as high water covered the sidewalks and pathways of my run. It was also dark as I started, as we approach the shortest day of the year. I threw everything into the dryer of a neighboring vacant apartment, since we’re still waiting for the repair of ours. I’m glad some people are still busy. Our schnauzer, Tally, hates the rain but loves to be toweled off, so she reluctantly agreed to go outside. For my wife and I, today is Christmas having invested a small fortune in a beef tenderloin that we’re sharing with her daughter and husband before we unwrap presents. The dogs will get their share of beef and gifts, as well. A festive table has been set.
This will be the first time that my wife has strayed from her meatless diet for months. After all, it is a special occasion. She claims to feel better by abstaining, so I wonder how she’ll find the taste? The rest of us will undoubtedly find it to be wonderful! Only 11 days left until the end of a troublesome 2020. We’ve yet to determine what we’ll do to celebrate. I’ll be glad to get into a new tax year, so we can cash in some more of our retirement savings to pay off mounting credit card bills and finalize funding of our new Florida home. There’s been no indication of whether or not they’re on schedule for completion. I’m still working out closing details.
I sent a first copy of my latest novel attempt, Tribulations and Trial, to a friend for some feedback. In the meantime, I’ll continue to add details to the story. If nothing else, it’s been a constructive way to spend all this alone time. Writing anything for me is always therapeutic and rewarding, regardless of any readership appeal. I sit here in the warmth of my home office, watching the puddles form on the rooftops next door, while putting words on pages. Other friends around the country are seeing snowfall at this time of year, but I would rather deal with puddles.
This is a children’s poem based on our schnauzer, Tally, and a recent encounter with a tiny, harmless thumbnail frog. She actually bit it in half, but this would not have been an appropriate story to tell to an impressionable kid. As a result, I made up a less controversial ending. The dog and the frog are having a conversation in rhyme with the dog speaking in red.
Leap of Friendship
This is the story,
Of the dawdling dog,
Who came nose-to-nose,
With a flirtatious frog.
“I like to pause,”
And smell the roses,
And tell me this:
Do frogs have noses?”
“I got a whiff,
Of you, my friend.”
“And with that breath,
You might offend.”
“You stink good, too,
A lot like a fish.
Finding a pal,
Fulfills my wish.”
“A dog and frog,
It makes some sense.
Companionship,
Based on scents.”
“You fear my bark,
Stay out of reach.
I can’t get much closer,
I’m on a leash.”
“You’ve got no Master,
To pull your chain.”
But your croak is a joke,
And my teeth cause pain.”
“You’ve always been,
A puppy dog,
But I was once,
A polliwog.”
“And once had a tail,
Just like you.
Then out of nowhere,
These legs grew.”
“I couldn’t hop,
Once had to swim.
I’m a she,
Are you a him?”
“Well, I can shake,
And even fetch.
I also learned,
To play some catch.”
“But there’s something,
Tickling my nose.
It’s a nuisance,
I suppose.
“I can quickly,
Snatch that fly.
My tongue is quick,
So Say goodbye.”
“You can run fast,
Since you’re a dog.
But you can’t out-swim,
Or out-leap a frog.”
“I’m amphibious,
While you’re grounded.
Why you’re attracted,
Leaves me astounded.”
“Frogs are cool,
Despite no hair.
Your eyes bug out,
When you stare.”
Do you have lips?
Or should we just shake?
Then you can leap,
Back in the lake.
“Though we’re different,
We’ll still be friends.
Happily-ever-after,
This story Ends.
copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com
Our schnauzer, Tally, had a brief bark-off with the neighbor’s dog, Oscar, this morning, creating a disturbance in our apartment building. The sounds tend to echo off the hallway walls to make the noise much worse. Oscar is a big black Labrador puppy that is harmless – as is Tally for that matter, so these encounters are nothing but harmless territorial squabbles. However, timing is everything and it’s amazing how we typically come out of our doorways at exactly the same time. Otherwise, I rarely see any of my neighbors – only hear them, as I’m sure they also hear Tally’s barking.
We know when our upstairs neighbor does their vacuuming, goes to the toilet, and walks to the kitchen. I’m sure those below us know our habits, as well. The floors are thinner than the walls because we rarely hear anything next door. We’re at least on the end of the hallway, but should have also selected an apartment on the top floor. These are key considerations when living in a residential building. Only three to four months before our Florida home is completed, depending on delays. Hopefully, hurricane Eta has not disrupted construction. We’re counting the days.
I feel sorry for big dogs in small apartments. Lack of space is not so bad for little Tally, but both dogs are not used to regular companionship. They get excited when they see each other, but I will have to watch our timing. It’s out every morning at 7:30 a.m., with last call at 10 p.m, plus 11, 3, and 6 in-between. Our neighbor must need to be at work by 8 a.m., and I certainly don’t want any doggy disturbance complaints. Tally may not get free-reign in the mornings to romp down the hallway, although she does often dawdles, particularly in front of Oscar’s door. Occasionally, I can hear some growls on the other side.
Oscar is not as bad as Moose, the Saint Bernard that recently moved out. Tally is about the size of Moose’s head but still refused to be intimidated. Moose and Tally were on the exact same schedule every day for the first year that we lived here. If we took the stairs, there was Moose. If we chose to ride in the elevator, out would pop Moose’s gigantic head and Tally would go crazy. If we were in the nearby park, there was Moose. Fortunately, they found a house, so Moose now has a backyard to explore, while our apartment lobby is now much quieter.
Tally is off to the beauty parlor this morning, while poor Oscar is stuck inside. I don’t think he gets out of jail until after work. I’ve yet to run into them in the evening, but need to show caution around every corner. There are several other dogs in the building, including Mary Sue, a pit bull mutt, that draws a growl or two from Tally when they come nose-to-nose. The neighbor downstairs has a playful Golden puppy that Tally seems to like. Grace, as she’s called, is a little aggressive with her impressive vertical leaps and big paws. There’s also a few new-to-the-building pups that we’ve yet to meet, but right now Oscar is Tally’s biggest nemesis.
