NaBloPoMo Challenge September

Well I did it again—kind of an extension from yesterday’s post.  I’ve jumped in with both feet to endure another full month of the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month).  The theme for this month is ART!!.  That’s cool because that’s actually a very broad subject and there are a lot of topics that can be covered under this category.  Art is more than paintings and pictures.  It can be about craft projects (my quilts), written arts, dance, music, and just about anything else that takes a bit of creativity to achieve.  That could even be in the form of work.  (eeewwww, there’s that word again).

I’m a huge lover of the arts.  I can’t honestly say that I understand some things that people consider art, but it’s not my place to judge.  If there’s one person who loves it, there’s surely more.  And that’s the key to being an artist, finding those people who share in your vision, your feelings.  They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and there’s nothing more true in the world of art.  What one person finds as beautiful is hideous to someone else.  It all comes down to personal preference.

This could be an awesome topic for my blog.  Let’s see if I can keep it up for another month, seeing as how I’m also going to try and keep up another blog for the entire month.  My Redhead Rants blog has also been added to the blog pool for the month, so now I have to make time to keep 2 of them up every day.  I don’t have quite enough grey hairs yet, so this ought to do it.  LOL

I Did It

Holy Moley, I did it.  This is the last day of the month and I’ve managed to put up a post every day.  I can’t believe that I actually did it, but Whoo HOOO!!!!!  And yes, I kinda cheated on a few of those days by posting something that I’d written months and even years ago, but it kind of fit in with the whole “green” theme.  I was recycling old material and using some of my stranger works as filler to get me through the entire month.

And thank you Gina for all the comments.  They made it more fun for me to keep posting.  And reason to keep it going on again for next month.  I may not have gotten a lot of important stuff added, but I kept it up each day and that’s amazing for me.  And I can’t wait to see what next month’s NaBloPoMo theme will be.  Not that I’ll stick with that theme for the entire month, but it will be nice to have something to work from.

Plus I have to keep everyone up-to-date on the quilt.  I’ve almost gotten all of the last pieces cut out and am about ready to start on getting the last blocks sewn together.  Once it’s all in place, I’ll get the entire thing put together and post more pics.  And I also want to get started on those Christmas ornaments and see what else I can come up with.  It will be interesting.

So, thanks to anyone who stopped by on a regular basis this month.  It was a total blast, and I’m hoping to do it again starting tomorrow.  LOL.  We’ll see though.  I might use one of my other blogs instead, or I might try and keep more than one blog updated daily.  That would be something, that’s for sure.  LOL

The Legend

(The following is a work of fiction.  This short story was written by Christine Senter in August of 2009.  Any resemblance between this story and an actual event are purely coincidental.  No part of this story may be copied and/or used in any other venue without the expressed permission of the author.  All rights reserved.)

As he climbed through another clump of bushes, Paul could see the mouth of the cave.  There it was just as the old map had shown.  Could he possibly be in a place that hadn’t seen a human in almost two hundred years?

Six months earlier, Paul Montgomery was in a small town library in upstate Maine.  He was going through and studying some of the local manuscripts and newspapers when he spotted something that instantly caught his eye.  In the middle of one of the books of court papers from the original village was an old hand-drawn map.

Paul had been around this region off and on for almost twenty years and knew there was something different about this old map.  According to the older map, there was a cave just forty miles from town.  When he looked at a current map there was no sign of it and that set Paul’s mind in motion.

He talked to some of the older folks in town trying to get as much information about the cave as he could, but nobody seemed to know anything about it.  He did, however, pick up on one of the local legends and thought that maybe the two went together.

The story said that before there was a village, pirates camped on an outcrop that had once jutted out over the ocean.  They supposedly buried a large amount of loot in a deep pit in the rocks.  The ocean protected the rocks for all but one hour of every day.  Otherwise the waves would crash in with such force, that to try to steal the bounty would surely get a man killed.

Finally the legend claimed that Captain Frederick Smythe went mad with fever and murdered his entire crew, fearing that they would take his treasure.  He killed the last man beneath the outcrop where they had camped which angered God so much that he caused the earth to shake and the outcrop crumbled down on top of the captain.  The rocks that held his stolen treasure were lost to the sea forever.

Paul learned every detail and version of the story he could and tried to find the few shards of truth within them.  He sat for hours on the rocky shoreline, searching for a hint of what was no longer there.  He took dozens of pictures from every possible angle and studied them relentlessly.

Finally he began to put all the pieces together.  He laid a tracing of the older map over a current map.  He figured that the cave would show up somewhere within the harbor, which had been proven to have widen since the late seventeenth century.  To his surprise it showed that the cave was quite a ways inland and should still be there in the forest.

Quickly he threw some supplies into a duffel bag and jumped into his jeep.  He followed the road as far as it would go but the cave was shown to be at least another five miles into the forest.  He left the jeep there and started climbing through the bushes which had brought him to this moment.

Slowly he moved on, knowing that there could be any variety of wild animals inside.  He pulled a flashlight out of his pack and picked up a small tree branch.  Wildly, he began yelling and banging the branch on the sides of the cave entrance.  Hundreds of bats swarmed from the cave and caused Paul to fall back down the hill.

He managed to get up and headed back for the cave.  He picked up his flashlight and went inside.  The stench of bat was almost more than he could bear, but still he pressed on.  Deeper into the cave, he began to see a faint scribbling on the walls.  It was three letters and a date.  “CFS 1692”, he stated out loud, “Captain Frederick Smythe”.

He looked around the cave a little longer but found nothing else.  He left feeling as though he had been transported through time.  He had stood in a place that hadn’t seen another person in two hundred years  Though he knew he had a lot more searching to do, he was thrilled to know that he had found a  little piece of truth in an old legend.

10 Things That Will Make Your Waitress Want To Kill You

1.) Call her darling in a creepy voice and stare at her relentlessly.
2.) Constantly complain about the weather, the economy, the President……
3.) Order a huge amount of food, demand she pay attention to you and you alone, then only leave her a dollar as a tip.
4.)Scream at her from across the room while she’s busy taking care of someone else.
5.) Talk to her as though you’re better than she is
6.) Be sure to point out any and all flaws she may have in your loudest voice possible.
7.) Make snide references about her family members
8.) Eat all but 3 bites of your food then refuse to pay because it got cold.
9.) Leave more food on the floor than your 3 year old child.
10.) Pretend to untie her apron so as to cop a feel of her backside.

Charges Mounting Against Local Taxidermist

(The following is a work of fiction created from the headline at the top of the page.  This is a complete fabrication written by Christine Senter on January 8, 2004.  No part of this may be copied or reproduced in any other media outlet without the author’s expressed permission.  All rights reserved.)

Charges Mounting Against Local Taxidermist

Local taxidermist Bob Farley was in court again today on charges of mounting his customers trophies in strange positions. According to court records, Mr. Farley is said to have posed a beaver, shot by a Mr. David Anderson, in a ballet pirouette. Mr. Anderson claims that he took the beaver to Mr. Farley for mounting, expecting to have the animal set in a natural position. When he returned for his stuffed beaver, he found it wearing a pink Tu-Tu and toe shoes.

Judge Wilbur Davenport sentenced Mr. Farley to six months probation, two hundred hours of community service, and he must repay Mr. Anderson for damages. Mr. Farley will be in court again in six weeks on further charges of stuffed animal arrangement.

On a lighter note, all the animals posed by Mr. Farley have been purchased by the local museum for a display entitled “The local night life”.

For Lode-A-BS news, I’m Christine Senter

Spinach Strata

54 Ritz crackers
2 10-oz pkg frozen and chopped spinach, thawed and well-drained
10oz. Muenster cheese, grated
2-1/2C milk
5 eggs
2T Dijon mustard
1/2tsp liquid hot pepper seasoning
2 cloves of garlic, minced

In 2-qt shallow baking dish, arrange 18 Ritz crackers in 3 long rows. Combine spinach and 2C grated cheese; sprinkle half mixture over crackers; repeat layers. Top with remaining crackers; sprinkle with remaining cheese.

In medium bowl, beat together milk, eggs, mustard, liquid hot pepper seasoning and garlic. Pour evenly over mixture in baking dish. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

Bake at 350* for 1 hour or until puffed and golden. Cut into squares to serve.

Life On The Rocks

(The following is a work of fiction written by Christine Senter. No part of this story may be copied and/or used in any other circumstance without the author’s expressed permission. All rights reserved)

Herman Silago was a bit actor who played Uncle Emil in three episodes of the popular television series The Five Sisters. He had hoped it would turn into a regular gig, but the show’s producers decided that his character should have a heart attack at the end of his last episode. It didn’t take much to realize that he wouldn’t be returning the following week.

Herman had been working as an actor for some 18 years, but had never hit that one role that would have made him a star. He had been stereo-typed for most of his career as either a simpleton or as a villain, which usually meant that his character wouldn’t last long in whatever he was playing. Now, his hair was thinning and a few wisps of grey were beginning to show. Though make-up artists and stylists could easily take care of those problems, it was the mere thought that seemed to torment his mind.

As he sat in his modest home, he began to reflect on the past. How his agent had kept telling him that his big break was just around the corner and that he just needed to hang on a little longer. The truth was that his time had come and gone, and he’d missed out on the best years of his life. Herman had never married nor had children, but until that moment, he’d never really thought about it. He had made his career his only focus, believing that once he made it big, the rest would fall into place. Now, it was just him and the bottle of rum he clutched in his arm.

When the phone rang, Herman checked the caller ID to see his agent’s name. There had been a time when he’d have answered in a heartbeat, but these days it just didn’t seem to matter. He heard the beep of the answering machine, and listened to the message as it was being received. “Herman, dude. Michael Valentine here. Say, wanted to let you know I just landed a commercial for you. They need an older guy for a Hair Plugs For Gents spot. Only one line, but it’s a paycheck. Give me a call when you get this. Ciao”. The line went dead while Herman took another swig from his bottle.

He sat there and watched the little red button flash. The idea of doing a spot for hair plugs made him want to throw in the towel. This was not the way it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be a star by now. He should be getting scripts from all the major studios, instead of throwing out one-liners about going bald. He tipped his bottle back one last time, finishing off in a single gulp.

He laid down on his couch, listening to the silent background. He stared at the ceiling, remembering the ways things had started out for him. He’d done a couple commercials for local businesses, then landed a national ad spot. That’s when he contacted Michael Valentine to act as his agent. Within a few weeks, Michael had gotten him a part on a daytime soap opera. Though it wasn’t a major role, it was something worth putting on a resume’. Before he knew it, he won a spot on a pilot for a sitcom. That’s when things took a turn for the worse.

After only two episodes, the show was cut from the network’s lineup and Herman was out of a job. His manager tried to get Herman to change his name, but he refused. He knew his mother would be devastated. She and his father prayed for a son in order to pass on the family name, Herman Melville Silago III. As he lay there looking back, he wondered if he had made the right decision.
As the rum coursed through his body, Herman began to drift off to sleep. He thought he heard the phone ring again, but wasn’t sure. After the answering machine picked up, he was awake enough to know that it was the phone. Thinking it was probably his agent again, Herman drifted off to sleep.

In his dream, he saw himself standing on the red carpet, beautiful woman on his arm. The crowds were cheering his name. The flash bulbs were going off all around him, while the sounds of drums beat in the back ground. Soon, the sounds of the crowd was being drowned out by the beating of the drums. He looked around and the flashes were gone, the crowd had disappeared, and he was all alone. Yet, the beating of the drum echoed all around him, with a faint sound of his name in the distance.

Slowly, Herman began to wake. He noticed traces of daylight coming through his living room drapes. Again, he heard the banging he’d heard in his dream. “What is that”, he thought out loud. Once again, the sound of beating came from across the room and the distant sound of someone one calling his name. As the fog began to clear from his mind, it dawned on him that someone was beating on the front door.

“Yeah, just a minute”, he yelled from the couch. He needed a minute to gather his thoughts. Finally, he got up to answer the door only to find his agent standing there. “Dude, why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying to contact you since about 9:00 last night. Where have you been?”. Herman just turned and walked back into the house, Michael right behind.

“Herman, what’s up?”. Michael could tell that the aging actor wasn’t himself. Herman sat back down on the couch, staring at the floor.

“Mike, I think it’s time to give up. I’ve been working at this for almost twenty years now, and I’m still struggling. I just don’t want my career to come down to a hair plug commercial”.

Michael sat down across from his client. “Dude, that’s why I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. After last night’s episode, the phone lines went nuts. Apparently, killing off your character made a lot of the viewers mad, and they’re protesting the studio. You’re a hit”.

Herman sat in silence. He thought maybe the booze from the night before was still reeling in his head. “What?”

The agent chuckled to himself. “Dude, they loved you. The public loves Uncle Emil. This is it. The studio called this morning and they want to talk. This is it, my friend, your big break. I told you it would come if you just waited. Now, get cleaned up. We have some negotiating to do”.

Herman remained still, the words vibrating in his mind. He’d done it. He finally managed to catch his break. After all those years, his talents had been noticed by the people who mattered most, the audience. It was finally time for Herman Silago’s star to shine.