What was I thinking?

There’s no accounting for childhood tastes…

I’m sorry to say my favorite movie while growing up was “In Search of the Castaways.” What was I thinking? Perhaps one of the silliest movies ever. But I was a typical kid, all star-struck over Hayley Mills, the Taylor Swift of her time.

“Castaways” is a Disney masterpiece about the Grant children, searching for their missing father, who they know is alive because they found a message in a bottle. There is no explanation as to why one of the Grant children (Mills) speaks with a British accent, and the other does not. The children conduct a world-wide search with Maurice Chevalier as their guide, who at one point is riding a donkey through the Andean Mountains, while singing and playing a ukulele. And you thought the movie was going to be silly.

Thank goodness my taste in movies has improved over the years. If you want a good laugh, add “Castaways” to your Netflix queue and you’ll see what I mean.

 

© The author and Huffygirl’s Blog, 2010 to 3010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and Huffygirl’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Trouble? Who, me?

 

Sigh. I don’t get into trouble. Not really. I’m one of those bland, boring,well-behaved people. Too much Catholic school I guess. All that Catholic guilt kept me on the straight and narrow. So what’s so bad about not getting into trouble? No good stories. No stories that end with “…and then the police came and we ran for our lives…” or “…I can never go to Nantucket again” or “…it was the last time we saw Old Joe…”

I could make something up – a good story about how when I was in high school my friends and I “borrowed” a car, skipped school, took a road trip, ended up in the upper peninsula two days later without any panties. But it would be a big lie. I haven’t even been in enough trouble to come up with a really good story anyway.

The downside of staying out of trouble? My kids think I’m boring – such a bland, uneventful life. The upside – I’ve never been turned down for a job because of pesky previous convictions. So I guess staying out of trouble can be a good thing.

(The assignment: What’s the most trouble you’ve gotten into?)

© The author and Huffygirl’s Blog, 2010 to 3010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and Huffygirl’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Plinky Prompts: Funny, You Don’t Look a Day Over …

What would you do to land a summer job?

 

Now that I’m at an age where most women DO lie about their age, I don’t. I like to think that I look younger than my actual age (who doesn’t) so why would I lie about it? When people say to me “My goodness you don’t look like you could possibly be ______” it’s much more satisfying than if I had already shaved some years off my age.

The one time I did lie about my age was when I was seventeen and just graduated from high school. I wanted to get a summer job so I would have some money to take to college, but everywhere I looked for a real job that wasn’t babysitting or picking up trash in the park, the employer wanted someone 18 or older. I wasn’t going to turn eighteen until December and I needed money now. After being rejected repeatedly for my age, I finally figured out that I could lie and just SAY I was 18. Either it was way easier to lie about your age back then, or the employer was not very thorough, because I got away with it. I don’t remember having to show ID, or maybe I did but covered up my date of birth with my thumb.

So what was the job I wanted so badly that I lied to get? It was calling people to apply for a Montgomery Ward’s credit cards. It was one of the original telemarketing jobs which was pretty new back then. Was it worth it? I hated every minute of the job, but did earn enough money to take to school, convinced my boyfriend to apply for a Monkey Wards card, and I am to this day exceedingly polite to telemarketers when I tell them I’m not interested.

© The author and Huffygirl’s Blog, 2010 to 3010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and Huffygirl’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Making the world a better place for women

 

If you could invent anything, what would it be?

I’ve been waiting for this forever, and I’m pretty sure that no one is ever going to invent it. My invention is a universal clothing sizer for women. Anyone who manufactures clothing to be sold in the USA would be required to use the universal sizer. The sizer is a combination size chart and templates that would be used to create clothing in each size. So if a manufacturer was making women’s pants, size 10, they would get out the size 10 template to cut and sew the garments. The result would be that size 10 pants all have the same length, waist and hip whether they were sold by Ann Taylor or Wal-Mart. This would put an end to each company having it’s silly sizing and fit system (“Oh, you need the Mercer fit, or the Judy fit…”)

Why do I think no one will ever invent this? High end clothiers would no longer be able to attract customers by making them think they are smaller than they are, by making their sizes oversized. Low end clothiers would no longer be able to save money by making every size a little smaller and shorter than their competitors. And the clothing industry would no longer be able to jerk women around by making them try everything on in every store because everyone’s sizes are different. Essentially, universal sizing would make the women’s clothing industry like…men’s. Yes, we women could finally say to our sweetie, “Hey would you pick me up a size 10 dress while you’re at the mall?” and “Cathy” would no longer have to agonize over buying a swimsuit every year!

The assignment: If you could invent anything, what would it be?

© The author and Huffygirl’s Blog, 2010 to 3010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and Huffygirl’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A Scar I Can Talk About

What would you do with a crop of new fallen snow?

kid sledding in snow

The snow crunched under my 8-year-old feet as I dragged the sled behind me. We didn’t really have any hills in our yard, but I was about to make my own. My dad had a dirt pile next to the garage, corralled with old corrugated metal roofing. Last fall it had been the place where we emptied the extra flats from the greenhouse, and mixed in dead leaves and grass. By spring it would be a rich. loamy pile of soil, ready to fill the flats for your little greenhouse. But now, the dirt was frozen solid, covered with a good six inches of new snow, and waiting for someone looking for a place to sled. It worked fine at first – I dragged my little sled to the top of the pile, sat down and pushed off. Over and over my own little hill worked great, until it became slick from repeated use. On what turned out to be my last run down, the sled skidded out and I went straight into the metal edging. It was a terrific scar on my left knee which remains today. Only about an inch long, not jagged, but definitely impressive. It should have been stitched, but wasn’t because that would have involved getting a ride to town, spending money at the doctor, and so on. That’s okay, because now I have a scar I can talk about.

(The assignment: Write about a scar, real or imagined.)

Plinky Prompts: Too Young to Retire

Change is hard, even when it’s what you thought you wanted.

manatee

Maryjane silenced the timer and slid the Texas sheet cake onto the rack, then reached to turn off the oven. Another hot day in Florida; no sense making it any hotter. She had been the envy of her friends when she retired to Florida. Months later though she had still not made any friends.

Maryjane slipped out the door and onto the dock. Suddenly, she felt something bump up against her. Then she saw them – a school of manatees at her feet. “Beautiful aren’t they?” Maryjane looked up to see her neighbor man standing on his dock next door.

 (The assignment: Write a 100-word essay including the words envy, manatees and Texas.)

Plinky Prompts: Attention Children and Adults: Must Read!

Cover of The Root Cellar

 

Have you ever wished you could go back in time? 

 

Why is “The Root Cellar” by Janet Lunn a must read for children and adults? This story uses an unbelievable fantasy adventure to help a young girl adjust to her new family and grow up. Rose’s life has been turned upside down when her grandmother dies and she’s forced to live with relatives she doesn’t know. In an attempt to find solitude, she ventures into an old root cellar, and the adventure begins. The story is compelling and the lessons that Rose learns are valuable for children and adults alike. It’s a great chapter book for middle-school to junior high age kids, or great for parents to read aloud to younger school-age kids. I read the book to my family, and read it again for myself. My copy is waiting on the shelf for when my granddaughter is old enough to snuggle with me in the big chair and read it together. 

(The assignment: name a children’s book every child should read.) 

 

Plinky Prompts: Duck Down

Sara ran, hair flying behind her. Her breath came out in heavy gasps. The pounding of her footsteps was echoed by her pounding heart. Her chest burned, she wanted to stop, but didn’t dare. The scene she had just witnessed played out over and over in her head as she ran. Glimpses of men through the trees, guns drawn. Furtive glances. Two, three, maybe four men ducking behind trees and bushes. Then the shooting had started. Sara watched in horror. It felt like she was surrounded. Men shouting, voices coming at her from all sides. Then, she was hit. She felt the impact, saw the red splatter onto her bare legs and socks. It couldn’t be serious, because she was able to get up and run, but she had been afraid to look. She clutched her side as she ran, saw a bit of the redness oozing between her fingers. Better not stop. Better keep running, get as far away as she could. Sara promised herself – no more short cuts through the paint ball park.

(This is a short story assignment I wrote for Plinky Prompts. The assignment was: write a short story in 200 words as quickly as you can.)