Daily Prompt

Bad is Good, Good is Bad

There are other times in my life where I have assumed things about people and been wrong but there are two instances where I assumed HORRIBLY!!! This is the kind of assuming that has major affects on your life.

Assuming they were not meant for each other.
There was this guy that I shared band with. He was an upper class men. He was all about band. I didn’t hang out with him much. We had band together that is it. I had seen him date and become infatuated with a fellow classmate and one day they broke up and like most HIGH SCHOOL dramas there was a fight between two guys over a girl. It says in the Bible not to judge and no matter how hard you try sometimes you just end up observing people and developing your opinion about them. Looking back now, I knew NOTHING about this guy other than he could play bass, sax, and percussion. What I had seen was stalker tendencies toward the girl he broke up with. That was it.
Fast forward a few years. He had graduated and moved on to bigger better things and I never thought much about him until one day. I had graduated and went to a distant college and tried as best I could to keep in contact with my best friends from High School. One in particular writes on this here Blog under the name of Belle Starr. She has her own story to tell, but she called one day to tell me she had met a great guy that we went to High School with. When she told me his name, feeling that I knew him pretty well, I told her my honest opinion which was very poor. He’s a stalker. I don’t like him. I didn’t have anything good to say about him. I was wrong.
Boy I was wrong. I ate all my words. To this day, I am still completely wrong and I admitted it to him and her. If anything, she laughs. She is a true friend. He is the hopeless romantic that we all dream about. He brings her flowers, pampers her and spoils her rotten. He says sweet things and posts about how much he loves her. We would all gag on MySpace, yes I said MySpace, when he would post on her wall. I would have never picked him for her and I can honestly say I am glad I was wrong. I should have never assumed anything about him. He is one of those husbands that make others look bad.

Assuming they were good.
I had been going to OkState for a semester and had befriended two friends. One I am still good friends with and I had her pegged wrong the minute I saw her, but after hearing her talk and hanging out with her I soon realized my mistake and we have been best friends ever since. But this isn’t about Little Britches. This is about the other girl.
The other girl and I became friends right off the bat. She was cool. An older lady deciding to give school a second chance and wanting to better herself. She was a good ten or eleven years older than me. I wasn’t your typical student and I hung out with everyone. First semester went off great, so her and I decided that we would move in together the following semester. I figured that she was older. That meant more responsible. WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! After being moved in for only a short couple of weeks, she told me that things weren’t working out and she was moving out. That meant I would be paying a rental payment on a house WAY TOO big for me. Lots of peanut butter jellies, and lots of ramen. If you would have asked me if I thought she was going to leave me high and dry for all those months to be stuck in a house all alone, with only enough money to make it by month to month, I would have told you that you were crazy. Turns out I was. I thought I knew her. I had taken care of everything. Deposit and all because she said she would live there. I even asked her about it. I could go on for days about my stupidity and her lack of responsibility but I won’t. I was proven wrong. She wasn’t a friend. She wasn’t a good suit for a roommate. She wasn’t responsible. You can’t assume someone’s age makes them responsible.
If I’ve gained anything from all my assuming in other people, it is this. What you think is a bad apple can taste the sweetest, and what may look like a good apple can be rotten inside. That’s why you never assume and yet, we always seem to anyways.

Thanks for reading,
Kalamity

Inspired by the daily.

August 7, 2014 1

Missing Sunday Post, Sequels, and Popcorn

I would like to start off with saying that DAILY POST! I went outside to retreive my Sunday Post and it never came. I couldn’t find it. I looked in the bushes, mailbox, under the mat and even went so far as to go to the grocery store and they didn’t have the post either. Only until a day later, I see that cosmic forces were against me.

On sequels, I would have to say, I want to see the sequel to Heaven Is For Real. I’ve read the book which in my opinion everyone should, and the movie. It would be interesting I think to see a now 25 year old man who walked with God and see how his life has turned out. I’m sure there will be an interview or two and somewhere someone probably has him under their thumb, but for someone who has spent time with Jesus and seen so much of Heaven, it would be interesting to see how not only Heaven has changed him, but how he fairs in this world after such a miracle.

As for unlikely pairing, I’m gonna have to go with the good ole trusty buttery popcorn and soft-serve chocolate ice cream that I discovered was the bomb-diggity when I was in High School Band at basketball games.

That is all.

Thanks for reading,

Kalamity

August 4, 2014 6

A Pair Of Blue Tongues

I was so happy to find my favorite pair of flip-flops were in the truck. I must have left them there when we went to the river. Changing out of my cowgirl boots and into my flip-flops produced a grin from my husband, he was always happy to see me out of my boots. Boots have been apart of my attire since I was born so it didn’t bother me, but he got sick of them. One of the quirks of my husband.

We pulled into our favorite sno cone stands and rushed to the stand to get in line. It was pretty long and every walks of life was here. The heat in Oklahoma cause a craving for the sweet frozen concoction. My husband and I can never get over how cheap it is to make and yet so many including ourselves flock to pay an outrageous fee for Styrofoam, frozen water and flavored sugar.

It usually happens in times like these when you are waiting that your ears and eyes wander across everyone and everything in the vicinity. The little girl in front of us was telling her Mother that she wanted the one that tasted like a piece of cake.

“Which cake?”

“Cake, Mama, Cake.”

“Listen, you want birthday cake? Or. Do you want wedding cake?”

“The blue one!!!!”

My husband chuckled and again we let our senses roam. Everything was so bright. The cart was yellow and the grass was green. It was the perfect day for a sno cone. You could hear the cars whizzing by and everyone talking animatedly around us. It was then that I noticed the older man at the back. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

He wore overalls with pens and a pair of glasses in the front pocket. A long-sleeved baby blue shirt and a straw hat sat atop his head. He was no stranger to the sun because of the tan he had on his hands but it was what was attached to his wrinkled hands that made him appear to be even more of an anomaly.

A blonde haired little boy dressed just like him held his hand.

“Papa, is it our turn yet?”

“No, now, we gotta wait a little longer, but it will make it all the sweeter, my boy. Let’s see here.”

He took out his glasses and put them on.

“Woah. What in the world have you brought me to? They got margaritas, daiquiris, and pina coladas here!” He smiled at the little boy. “I’m gonna have to check your ID.”

The little boy asked with a look of concern. “What’s a rita?”

“Well, I believe your Mama calls it Mama juice.”

“OH! I can’t have any other that!”

He chuckled. “So you want to have your green kind again? What was it? Sour apple? Your Grandma loved those lizard kisses.”

The little boy thought real hard. “I want a blue tongue this time.”

“Blue?”

“Blue raspberry!” He took off his hat and held it giving his head a good scratch.

“Alright then. Blue raspberry it is. Now what do I want?”

“Same thing.”

“Well I guess we should since we match.”

The little boy set the hat back on his head and puffed out his chest. “That’s right, Papa.”

He took his glasses back off and stuck them back in the case and put them in his front pocket. He made me think about my own grandparents and wonder what things they must have done for me when I was little. The line moved forward and we finally ordered our sno cones.

On our way past the old man, he was starting to perspire but he just retrieved the bandana out of his back pocket and wiped his forehead. He grinned as I past him and said, “It’s a great day for a sno cone.”

Thanks for reading,

Kalamity

Picture is actual sno cones ate by my husband and I. That is ice cream in his. I had the polar plunge which I think I will now go and get.

Inspiration provided by WORDPRESS.

August 2, 2014 2

Crime Committed: Murder Weapon Was Ketchup

I brought the witness in for questioning at 9:30 p.m. to give a statement of the crime he had seen committed. He was a well dressed fellow. 6′ 3″ Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes. Not that I booked him. I’m a cop. I should know these things. Working the night shift usually brought in plenty of wackos but this guy seemed normal. Clean. I lead him over to my desk to take his statement.

He said it happened when he was eating his dinner. It explained his three-piece suit.

“So when did this happen? ”

“About an hour ago. ” He just kept shaking his head.

“Really? Why didn’t you just call 911?”

“Cause the villain was within earshot so I couldn’t let her see me calling you.” Villain was spat at me. I thought I was back in a 50’s movie or something and would see the treacherous evil come through the door or maybe Cruella herself.

“She?”

“Yes, she.” The man just seemed to become more violent upon hearing about the opposite sex so I offered to get him a water.

I handed him the water and asked. “So what did this she look like?”

He took a long pull of his water nearly downing the whole thing. Must have been some dame. Ha! 50’s must be where I was for the night. “She was about 5’2″. Brown curly hair past her shoulders. She had brown eyes and a tattoo peeking out of her cleavage on her left side. I think it was a bunny. ”

I just looked at him for a second. “Sounds like you got pretty close to her.”

“Well, I was sitting at the same table.”

“Table?”

“Yea. We were at Frankie’s on a date. Worst blind date ever.”

“The steakhouse on Main?”

“Yea. That’s the one.” I don’t know what she could have possibly done to commit such a crime to make this man so distraught.

“So what did she do?”

“She was dipping her steak in KETCHUP.”

Gasp!

Thanks for reading,

Kalamity

The daily post help inspire horrible sin. Some think it should be an EIGHTH Deadly Sin.

August 2, 2014 2

Considerately Made Presents and Pies

The first thing I thought about when I saw this daily post was pies and then presents.

Growing up, we didn’t eat many pies that weren’t bought from the store. They were good, but nothing compared to the pies that were brought to Second Sunday Dinners. (I miss those.) We made box cakes, brownies, and when Thanksgiving time came around we would of course make Pumpkin and Pecan, but all was bought at the store, including the crust.

Mom and Dad were and still are very busy so mealtime, while spent at the dinner table and not in front of the TV most nights, was cooked more and more by me as I got older. I hated other chores but dinner was something I enjoyed making even if it was following the directions on the back of a box. I do have a rebel streak in me though that likes to add my own twist on things. I can’t just make Hamburger Helper. There has to be some way to make it better.

I figured out when I was a teenager that we ate what Mama liked. She was shopper and head cook so only what she liked got made unless I made it. I couldn’t believe she didn’t like pancakes. I had to convince myself that I liked them when I found out since my vote, like most typical kids, leans towards what their parents or grandparents liked and didn’t. My Grandfather didn’t like Vince Gill. I lived with that denial for a few years.

Mom also didn’t like meringue pies. I didn’t much care for whip topping so I always thought meringue was just another sort and always stuck with apple pie ala mode, and pecan pie sans whipped topping.

As the years went by and T.V. improved (Yes, I was one of those who got to watch us go from watching tv in a big heavy wooden black and white box to the flat-screen on the wall generation.), Food Network channel was memorized and I watched the original Iron Chef when I could catch it between homework. Triple D was a big favorite when it finally aired and I fell in love with the humorous Michael Simon and loved the innovative cooking that Top Chef inspired.

I tried to learn as much as I could by watching these shows and while I loved to cook, sadly no, I didn’t become a world renown chef or even as interesting as Instagrammer @pierrickboyer is. His photos are so scrumptious and I bet he could tell some amazing adventures.

I have learned how to make my own pie crust and even have my own recipe tweaked to the way I like crust. It works great and I get compliments on it. I love making pies for people for their birthday. Most of everyone has a favorite and when I can I make one. It’s just so much better than store bought. I love make meringue and piling it on to watch it brown and make the beautiful mountains and ridges all over. I love baking anything but pies are my favorite.

I’m the same way with Christmas and other days requiring presents.

Whenever I can, I like to really think about that person and what they like and what I can make that they will enjoy or love having. Sometimes it doesn’t always pan out but I figure a necklace I made is better than a snuggie collecting dust and who knows they may finally get a outfit they wear with it.

In a material world, it’s so easy to just go buy things already made. You can find anything pre fabbed or pre cooked. I love handmade. It just makes things that much more meaningful.

Thank you for reading,

Kalamity

July 31, 2014 5

Pinsters- Twisted Humor

For your entertainment needs!!! Watch out that last one is a doosie!!!~Kalamity

The Daily Post wants to know what Instant Celebrity I would be.

I would be this guy’s wife!

Hot damn! Channing Tatum — **Do you really need to ask why?**

And on with the rest of the pins.

Genius Challenge lol funny jokes humor funny quotes joke — **Nice try Little Britches!!! I ain’t that STEW PEED!!!**

I laughed so hard!

Sounds legit.

This is why men shouldn’t be in charge…

Well said Earl!!!

And other problems would be solved by this!!!

Name the place ladies!!!!

One day…

Last but not least!

I hope I could brighten your day!!!
~Kalamity

P.S.

June 18, 2014 3

The Typical Day Served Rare Medium

Describe a typical day in your life — but do it in a form or in a medium you’ve rarely — if ever – used before. If you’re a photoblogger, write a poem. If you’re a poet, write an open letter. If you’re a travel blogger, write a rant. (These are all examples — choose whatever form you feel like trying out!)

Soundtrack Of A Typical Kalamity Jane Day

Thank you for stopping by!

Kalamity

Check out other daily posts HERE!!!

June 17, 2014 3

Doooo Doooo Doooooo Looking Out My Back Door

I never saw myself living in town. For me it’s all about the outside. I have no wonderful front porch to sit in and rock and wave at the people passing by. I don’t have a big yard period. The flower beds are outdated and need some TLC but that is where my imagination comes in. I can’t wait to get home and work on them. I plan on sprinkling seeds in all the flower beds. It looked beautiful in the front this past year so I plan to do the same in the back.

The Dream Yard

To open up my back door and see a wonderful new fence. I would walk out and let the dogs out of their pen to play on the beautiful lush green grass. The flower beds would be like a painting. If you were to squint, you would think you were looking through a kaleidoscope. A beautiful quilt would be airdrying on the clothes line with it insulators attached to it to look like old power lines. A small privacy fence is around the air conditioner and a path way made of stone with thyme in the cracks. The dogs would be out for you to pet and get licked by. You would smell a range of scents from roses, other flowers, fresh cut grass, and maybe someone is cooking on the grill. Butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds would make frequent stops at the butterfly weed, pentas, salvia, and others. During the day it’s the busy traffic of the hummingbirds along with the cars and trains. During the summer nights, you would get to enjoy the sound of live bands coming from the nearby expo.

Come on summer.

April 3, 2014 7

MY MOST MEMORABLE ARE ABOUT MY FAITH

“You don’t know what you are asking of me! You want just three? THREE!?! Really? The most memorable? There are so many.”

I lean over and grab a file poking a little further out of the mental shelf. I hold it up shaking it. “See this file. This is just from my Freshman year of college and you want me to break down the most memorable moments… EVER?”

I disappear down the aisle labeled The Younger Years. File folders, video tapes, cassettes.. no DVD’s or CD’s down these aisles. Knick knacks are here and there. Teddy with one pale eye and one black is hanging out on one of the shelves. I’ll know it when I see it. Ah! There it is. My pink Precious Moments Bible with my name and a lamb on the front. I open it up to John Chapter 3.

On The Wings of a Dove

I had finally done it. My eyes were closed along with the rest of the Vacation Bible kids and I had raised my hands. I wanted to know Jesus. After the prayer was over, the kids who hadn’t raised their hands were herded out of the church. Miss Lynn came and sat next to me in the wooden pew and asked me if I would like to know about Jesus and told me how brave I was for raising my hand. She read from the Bible and showed me the scriptures of God’s Promise and Jesus’ sacrifice for me and the rest of world. I was so young and it was a lot to take in but I remembered John 3:16 from Sunday school. The big wooden cross that hung above the baptismal area seemed to glow a little brighter.She asked me if I understood and I shook my little head. With a smile, she said that we should pray and we scooted out of the pew and knelt on the floor. I laid my elbows on the red fabric of the cushion on the pew and brought my hands together like her. I closed my eyes and we prayed.We asked for forgiveness. We thanked the Lord. We asked for his blessing over me. With an AMEN, I felt God’s Love.

Closing the Bible, I set it back on the shelf. Now I have to look for the second Moment. I think I know where to look for this one. “It’s not going to be my favorite.” I say. It will make me sad, but it’s important. There is an aisle labeled hobbies. “You wouldn’t think it would be down this aisle, but it is.” There is a copy of a poem on the wall, I wrote years ago. An old fishing pole is propped up in the corner. Shoe boxes and books scattered everywhere.

“I really should organize this better, but I’m always digging through it for something else I need.” I say over my shoulder as I start looking through some shoe boxes. Then I see it. A red folder with not much in it which would probably not mean much to anyone else but I know what’s in it. I open the folder and there is a copy of I’ll Fly Away, Where the Roses Never Fade, On the Wings of a Dove, and some seeds of a flower my Great Grandmother had scattered around a local pond. Memories float up like fire flies, but I grab the one of the brightest and music starts to play.

Where the Roses Never Fade

A two hour car ride down to the final resting place. I have on the same blouse as I have worn to the others. It has become a part of these kinds of days. It’s so hard to say goodbye. I didn’t really get to. I came back and you had already flown away. You are the last of the Greats that I got to know. Ladies were first. Both of my Great Grandmothers left this earth and then Great Granddad left. You, Great Grandpa, were the last to go and it hurts so much more. I feel like a chapter has ended. I’m not ready for change.
 We all gather under the tent. Hickory has his arm around me and holds me close. I have cried until my eyes have gotten puffy but luckily I didn’t go into quite the hysterics like I did with Great Granddad. The pain is still the same though.
 We pray. They lower the casket. Like my Mother has allowed my sister and I to always do, we pick a couple of the roses from the arrangements. We can’t have our Great Grandparents back but we can hold on to the roses until they fade. We sing I’ll Fly Away and a slight breeze carries the tune over the cemetery. Goodbye for now, but not forever.

I let go of the memory and watch as it and the rest of the fireflies fly up into the rafters to be replaced by a sprinkling of rain. I stare at the wet spots on my shirt where it has made it darker in places. Sigh… Every storm runs out of rain, and then the flowers can bloom again another season. It’s a sad memory and one that still clings to me. Things have changed, but not all change it bad. “I’ve got one more to find for you.” I say and close the folder.

Back out of the aisle and into the hall. Again I talk aloud. “Now these memories seem like days ago, but this one feels like minutes. “Hard to believe it was back in…” There it is. “2010.” I walk right up shelf with the big W on the side. OSU orange and OU crimson patches on a quilt reside on one of the shelves but I reach past that for the photo album by the patent leather black and white boots and flip to the page I want. The whole room goes dark and I hear a machine start clicking real fast and a bright light comes on like a train is coming through. I turn my head and I’m transported…

Your Love is Extravagant

Dressed in white, we stand hand in hand. I look up into Hickory’s eyes and smile. My friend sings Casting Crowns on the steps while a guitar is being played.
 Our families are now our family. Moms and Grandparents lit my path and Daddy walked me down the aisle and now I have made a promise to this man. I love him so much and he must love me so much too, because he has also made a promise.
 The cross behind us seems to be glowing brighter.There are no words needed. This moment is je ne sais quoi. It’s intimate. It’s powerful. It’s the beginning of a brand new chapter.

A flash of a camera and all goes black. I hold the picture from the moment. “I could shut my eyes and live in that last moment forever. The happiness and joy of it all… But our love has grown.” I close the album and head back for the main desk to turn off the lamp. “Can’t stay in here too long. I’ve got plenty of other memories to make.”