Nothing But Fluff

Life can be a serious affair. It feels good now and then to talk fluff. There are simple pleasures that are worth mentioning. Here you can read funny stories, happy thoughts, favorite recipes, and any other fluff that I dream up. (Some posts were originally published on MySpace).

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Location: New Brunswick, Canada

Shallow, I'm not. I ponder almost everything. Every book I read or movie I watch evokes something to discuss. I thrive on learning and growing to be a better example. Uncaring, I'm not. I'm a sincere friend, a loving mom, and a caring daughter. Apathetic, I'm not. I'm extremely passionate, especially about doing the right thing. I speak up in classes, tutor others, talk to strangers in stores, and love deeply. Boring, I'm not. I write essays, letters, poetry, and some fiction; take classes; cook from scratch; ride horses; ice skate; play with my dogs; go to the beach for a picnic; go out for Sushi; watch classic movies; read non-fiction, autobiographies, classic literature, and young adult novels; and get to know people on the inside. Reserved, I'm not. I speak openly about my past, candidly about my present, and enthusiastically about my deepest dreams for the future. Because I ask an enormous amount of questions, have an excellent memory, and listen well, not a day goes by that I don't learn something. Yet, I'll never claim to know it all.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

THE WHOLE STORY Part One: MY FATHER'S KITCHEN

"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops." (Movie Quote: Arsenic and Old Lace)

I'll never forget the day that I visited my father and saw burn holes, the size of hockey pucks, in his kitchen counter and several places in the floor. I asked, "What on earth?"

He told me the horrifying story. It began with wanting some instant coffee. He put a pot of water on the stove and turned the electric element on High. He answered the phone, went downstairs, forgot about his pot and didn't return to the kitchen for several hours.

The water had long since boiled away when he discovered the electrical element a fphosphorescent orange. In hindsight, this was a pot that shouldn't be moved. Unfortunately, my father turned off the stove, found the handle extremely hot and used an oven mitt to move the weapon of mass destruction to the sink.

He turned on the tap!

No one should ever move a hot pot like that, let alone add cold water to it. My father created a bomb. The pot became molten lava and spewed flaming balls all over the kitchen. He was very fortunate that he wasn't harmed.

I said, "At least, you have homeowner's insurance. That ought to cover all the damages."

My father said, "No. We can't use our insurance for this."

I argued back and he explained the reason why.

"This isn't the first time I've done it."

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