Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Ever get the feeling your best posts were behind you?
I’m idea-starved this week. Is it possible I’ve so thoroughly ransacked my memory that there’s nothing left inside but recipes?
Naw. Ain’t true. But as I’ve mentioned before, all my best stories are off limits. I mean, I have to live with these people.
I have a great Thursday Thirteen in store for you tomorrow. Maybe that will make up for this otherwise anemic week. For tonight, here’s a quickie memory. Not my best story, but over the years, its appeal to me has never faded.
We grew up next door to an old Southern nurse named Sadie. Sadie was so benign, even my mother couldn’t hate her, and my mother hated all of our neighbors. Worst thing my mom could say about Sadie: her floors were filthy. Which was true.
Sadie had a Cocker Spaniel named Baby. Every day, she played fetch with Baby, and she encouraged us kids to throw the ball for Baby, too. We liked Sadie because she didn’t mind if we played keep-away on her front lawn or pretended her overgrown backyard was the Congo. She never lost her temper with us, not once, not even when I ate her hibiscus flowers*.
One day, while all us kids were playing touch football in the street, Sadie tossed the tennis ball into the bushes and Baby dashed after it. He came back with not one but TWO tennis balls. Okay, now you have to imagine this old lady with a genteel Southern accent. Ready?
“Wah Baby, lookah that! Baby’s got two balls, don’t you Baby? You got two balls!”
We kept repeating this to each other — Baby’s got two balls! — laughing ourselves silly. To this day, I’m sure I could get my brother to crack up just by saying, “Baby’s got two balls!” With the appropriate accent, mind you. And now I’ve passed the story on to my son, who says the same thing at every opportunity. Baby’s got two balls!
Us Hoffmans, we’re easily amused.
D.
*I had pica — remember?
PS: I pinched that photo from this website. (Evil me . . . but at least I’m giving attribution. That’s a step forward.) Lots of great Spaniel photos, but do yourself a favor: turn off your speakers first.
I’m idea-starved this week.
I know what you mean.
Wait a minute, don’t take that the wrong way. I mean I’ve been idea-starved for a while now.
Oh, maybe I’ll write about sex. I never seem to come up short on that topic.
Aw, come on, Doug, go ahead and post those stories. We won’t tell. 😉
Besides, you promised us a post about “The sadomasochistic psychodrama of swimming lessons.” Where is it?
Don’t forget, Dean. I’ve seen your body. But, yes, please post about sex. I’d much rather read about sex than American Idol.
Oh, how I wish I could, Darla. As for the swim lessons, I’m still wrestling with the problem of how to unite a bunch of scattered impressions into a coherent post.
Yeah, I take this blogging WAY too seriously.
In a foreign country with my husband on our second honeymoon been here three hours and I’m commenting on your blog. What too seriously? Huh? What the hell are you talking about?
I’d much rather read about sex than American Idol.
Most people would. But here’s the thing: if I post about Idol and say something dumb, nobody cares. If I post about sex and say something dumb, everybody will think I’m a total knob.
But for you, and for my beloved sxKitten, I will write something about sex.
pfah. you definitely need some sex or something. It’s springtime! Frogs! Love! Spring! Get out there and croak and hop in circles around Karen!
Best I can do for ya is send along one of my ITMFA pins (I really do have too many).
ITMFA? Huh?
Dean, I’m there.
Sex tonight, everyone?
Even with MY lousy memory, I recall this story,and yes, we were all easily amused. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.
Do you remember my pica, Sis? I’d eat anything.
Sadly, that’s still true.
Impeach The Mithra Fusion Already
They sell them here for a buck and I bought more than I needed.
I used to feel that way until Lee Sevilla came along. I took that as a sign that perhaps there’s still some good that can come out of this blog.
I have an important message posted at my place that I’d like everyone to read. It’s about Lee Sevilla, the homeless woman in SoCal of whom I’d blogged last Monday, and I can’t say as I’m too impressed with the almost complete lack of co-operation that I’m getting. It’s like Jill Carroll redux. So far, I have 11 or 12 people who are willing to donate $2-5 a week toward a Paypal acct that, hopefully, she’ll set up on her end. I need about 50 more in order to get her that $125 a week or so that she needs to set her and her dog up in an apartment.
I’m really discouraged by how slow the response has been. People keep telling me to stick around, we need all the voices we can get, etc., but when we have a chance to make a positive difference in an old woman’s life, we move slower than Congress. But I won’t give up.
Your pica? Fish?
Wah?!!