Category Archive:Moose Nuggets

We are saying goodbye to the long winter dark here in Kenai. Yes, we are thankful the ice and snow have (mostly) faded away to only a few blackened lumps around town. Yes, we are grateful the icy roads are (for the most part) a thing of the past.

But, as my early morning drives to the gym are gradually getting lighter, there is one thing I am really looking forward to: no longer needing to flip off on-coming drivers. No, not THAT kind of flipping off, sillies. I’m talking about using my dimmer switch.

What? You didn’t know there was such a thing? I’m afraid you are not in the minority. It would seem several people do not know that particular switch is installed in their rigs.

Although I use the thing rarely, I would be thrilled to not have to use it at all.

It depends on you, dear early morning drivers. I would not have to flip you off if you would be courteous enough to turn off your fog lights and light bars when meeting on-coming traffic. Like me. Driving to the gym in the early morning hours.

I try to be courteous enough to make sure my brights are dimmed while you are still down the road. I figure if I can see your lights you can see mine and take appropriate action.

Yes, those light bars are great fun – and it shows you have some status, well, cash to put into such toys. And, I know they are useful for those long hauls to Anchorage in the dead of night. And, they are even useful on the street-light-less roads between Kenai and Soldotna.

But, please, take into consideration those of us who have aging eyes. If you are close enough to me that I am blinded by the lights (two points for lyrics!) then you are causing both of us possible harmful reaction time.

Now, go on . . . go play with your toys on the escape route. Please dim your lights and turn off the light bars and fog lights when in traffic.

We all have demons. Mostly we keep them tempered and out of sight of everyone. We try doubly hard to keep demons at bay where our loved ones are concerned.

For the most part.

And, then there is that one time when they fly – right out of your brain through your heart and out of your mouth. They, set free, wreak havoc on all those around.

Hearts are twisted. Loves are deflated. Relationships are harmed.

All for that one word set free from the demon’s mouth.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will temper my demons.

Tomorrow.

We’ll see.

words-have-power
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Written for Ms. Tara’s 100 Word Challenge. The word, as you might have guessed, is DEMON. Now, go and write your own.

I make gentle fun of my oldest daughter and her friends. I also make fun of my assistant.

You may well ask why I would do that. Just turn on any news network to hear about the latest craze sweeping the world.

I’ve lived through my fair share of crazes: Beatlemania, troll dolls, etc. I hate to be a fuddy-duddy about it all, but I guess I am. There are bigger things in the world to worry about. I know this craze is helping to take people’s minds off those bigger things. Maybe that’s a good thing.

Pikachu for President!
Pikachu pres

written for Tara’s 100 Word Challenge – go thou and do likewise.

My heart is heavy tonight. I seek answers that are not available.

Another young person committed suicide this week, the second this week. Our community is small. We all know someone who knew someone who knew these young people. Or, we knew them ourselves.

We share tears and deep sadness tonight asking the questions that will never be able to be answered. Because they took the questions AND the answers with them.

All we can do is reach out in love and compassion to the rest of the community. We care. You are worthy. You are loved.

Let us in.

suicide
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written with sadness for Tara’s 100 Word Challenge: Search.

Suicides often cluster. Our community had several just a few months ago. And, now these two. I am praying there will be no more.

“Don’t call me hillbilly,” Grandma always told us. “I was raised in Kentucky. I’m a hill-William!”

My sister and I giggled and plotted the next time we could raise her ire.

You see, there is the South, complete with gentle southerners; and there are the hills where gun-toting, moonshine-swilling, revenooer-hating hillbillies lived.

I grew up in the city surrounded by concrete, humanity and black-belching buses, from “the Bottoms,” a neighborhood mostly forgotten by the rest of Columbus. Nevertheless, it was not country – or hillbilly heaven – or southern.

They each have their place. I’m a city girl. My place was home.

hillbilly
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Written for Tara’s 100 Word Challenge: SOUTH. My sister and I loved to get Grandma’s ire up. Calling her hillbilly was just one of many ways.