Three More on Monday

Laughing--I never skip my daily read of newspaper comics. Pearls before Swine, by Stephen Pastis, always helps me start my day laughing.

Excellent--We had excellent baseball seats at Chase Field, thanks to Costco's 1/2 price purchase card.

Laughs--We stayed up a bit late last night and had a few laughs watching tv reruns of "Mash" and the classic "Odd Couple."

[note: these are next 3 "happiest" words from the ATLANTIC 7/12/16 "The 200 Happiest Words in Literature" by Adrienne LaFrance}

Next 3 "happiest" words

Happy--Pharrel Williams took this word to YouTube and Grammy Land

Laughed--Surprisingly, I laughed a lot while reading the memoir sections of Stephen King's book, "On Writing".

Laugh--Seinfeld (especially the "Festivus" episode) and Parks and Recreation (Little Sebastion tributes are great)  reruns are my "go to" place when I need a laugh, and that's usually everyday!

#1-3 Happiest Words from The ATLANTIC 7/12/16 "The 200 Happiest Words in Literature", Adrienne LaFrance

Laughter--the sound of ripples in a crowd of kids playing with water balloons on a hot, summer day.

Happiness--celebrated in 4th of July speeches and pursued by app users with Pokemon.

Love--what the world needs now.

Something Silly: Two Summer Poems

Finding Dory

[Response to Poets & Writers Prompt, 7/7/16—write a poem about a blockbuster summer movie]

Dory repeats,

Circles,

Splashes,

Jumps in and out of sea water and fresh water--

A blue and yellow bird with fins.

Along her journey—

Her friends never desert her or

Want her to change her ways.

Dory never gives up.

She repeats,

Circles,

Splashes….

Popcorn Snow

[Response to a prompt: the snow is falling but those are not snowflakes]

It’s a topsy-turvy land.

Trees grow with

Russet roots spreading upward into a

Gingham sky.

Children touch velvet clouds,

Sleep in hammocks perched on pillows of purple grass.

Winter brings rain of glistening pearl drops

And

In summer,

Hills are covered with popcorn snow.

A boy's story

This was written as a submission to a Hemingway short story contest.  Since I haven't heard from the contest sponsors, I am assuming this story will not be given an award, so I am free to publish it with the addition of a photo of "Raphael", my dad in his Army uniform.

Master or Fool: a tribute to Ralph P. Fonte by anita c. fonte

So while his wife was at mass with the children, he finished corking the last bottles of wine in the basement.  Satisfied with the job, he sat on the cool cement step and slowly ate an apple with a slice of cheese.  When his wife returned, he would ask Raphael to join him outside in the garden.  Ripe tomatoes hung from the vines and needed to be picked.  While picking, he would start the conversation that he practiced in his mind.

“See this one; she is almost too full. We must make sure we clip her stem and take her inside to Ma.”

“I know. I will do that.”

“Grazie, you understand.  And there is more I need.”

“Of course, just tell me what you need me to do.”

“I can’t bend and carry water to the trees and plants like I used to.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“No, not just here. But at Flores’ place.”

“You mean where you work?”

“Si.”

“But you do that in the morning when I am at school.”

“Si.”

“So what are you asking?  You know I only have a few more weeks before I finish.”

“Si.  But now is when I need you.  It doesn’t matter if you finish.  You can work.”

At this point, his imagination failed him.  What would if he do if his son refused, insisting to stay in school?  Bah, he was the papa.  If his children didn’t obey him on all things, then he was also a failure at home.  No, he would insist.  If not with words then with the slap of his hand.  Si, if it came to that.  Just like his papa in the old country.  One is the master or one is a fool.

He got up.  He heard his children singing in the yard.  He went up the steps and opened the green cellar door to the blue sky.

“Raphael. Come here.  I need you in the garden.”

“Si, papa.”

June Road Trip and "found" poem

At Starbucks: Haiku

Grab something: yum, yum—

The icy side of cold brew.

A splash for summer.

Road Trip to La Encantada

My Saturday tasks are done.  Time for a bit of fun and mingle among the foothills crowd for a summer road trip.  Up and down curvy Campbell Avenue, I easily find a parking spot.  The moneyed class is in California or Colorado and Tucson’s plebes benefit on the less trafficked streets and open parking lots.

AJ’s is air-conditioned chilliness and bustling with kids in soccer shorts, punk teens with studs in their tongues, and seniors cradling shivering Schnauzers in baby strollers.  I head straight for the “grab and go” counter and buy a slice of vegetable pizza.  In the shade and under misting sprinklers, I am at a table by a fountain and potted blue flowers.  Picking the onion off the cheese, the pizza is savory, but dry from too long under the heat lamp.

Sucking on a dessert chocolate with sea salt, I go for a mini-shopping spree and leave Crate & Barrel with a cruet rubber stopper and a single glass from Italy that fits precisely to my hand.  Up the escalator to browse in a bohemian clothing store.  I pick a bar of soap on sale that is wrapped in pink paper and smells of peonies. When I use it at home, I will be reminded of my mom who loved her late spring peonies that grew in our Illinois back yard.

Succumbing to the temptation of clothing racks on sale, I find a light cotton blouse that could match a navy pair of linen pants I already have.  I have never ventured into the dressing area before and am surprised to be greeted by Angela who asks my name.  I wonder why she wants to know my name, but see that, as I tell her, she writes it on the small blackboard sign on a dressing room door that, for the moment, belongs to me.  The blouse “fits” in the style of summer-loose, but it is beyond my weekly budget.  Indulge: yes or no?  Well, I am alone all week and no one to scold me, so I decide to buy it, too.  As I give Angela the clothes hanger she waves me to the treat table: lime-flavored water and tiny chocolate cupcakes topped with a red raspberry.  I sip the water and skip the cupcake.

After my purchases, I decide: enough!  It’s time to head down the hill and go to Starbucks to write.  So, with a smile and a song from Keith Urban, my Subaru glides through the turns and I savor my Tucson townie road trip on a Saturday in June.

Stack of Books Poem

inspired by a prompt from Austin Kleon's Steal like an Artist:

A stack of books at Bentley's

begins with a foundation: Fortune Rocks.

As if to make a joke, the next title is 

The Penny.

Even a penny can be a fortune, too.

An optimist sees

Breaking Dawn as a chance to live

another day and 

discover Sanctuary in a local coffee shop.