Today I received a text from someone I don’t know. It went like this:
*My daughter’s dog is named Tyler. He can’t shoot guns; his arms are too short.
Tag Archives: personal story
Playing Possum
Our female Saint Bernard, Neva, was a runner. For the first two years of her life, I could only take her outside on a leash because whenever the opportunity to go for a run through the neighborhood arose, Neva took off. I chased her through fields, through the woods, even through a neighbor’s open garage; she went in through the overhead door and out the open man-door that lead to their (thankfully) fenced in back yard. Continue reading
A Letter from My Dead Father
My father’s death was not expected; he was only thirty-nine years old, healthy and vigorous when he went to work one day and did not come back. He died from Coronary Thrombosis, the same silent killer that later killed newsman Tim Russert. In addition to my mother, he left behind three children, me at age 19 and my brothers ages 17 and 6. Since his death in 1979, I cannot count the number of times my family and I would’ve given anything to hear from him again. And then one day, we did. Continue reading
The Good-Looking Goat
I saw the goat first. It was walking along the woods at the edge of the field heading towards the road. When I pointed it out to my husband Steve, he went into the garage and came back with some dog food in an old metal coffee can. Standing in the driveway, he began shaking the can. The goat turned and headed in our direction. Continue reading
The Chipmunk, the Washer and My Ass
Three years ago when I arrived home from work I head a scratching noise coming from behind the dryer and I immediately knew that there was some type of critter in the flexible dryer duct that leads from the dryer to the vent mounted on the outside wall of our home. I knew without a doubt that there was an animal in the dryer duct because it had happened before. Continue reading
Lucy and Ginger
My husband Steve and I have had at least one Saint Bernard at any given time for the past 16 years. To accommodate them, we have a kennel, that is actually a 12 foot by 20 foot building that is insulated and fully equipped with water and electricity. Surrounding the dog kennel is a large fenced in area that allows our dogs to run and play all day without direct supervision. This has worked out well for us and for the Saints. Saint Bernards, which were originally bred in the Swiss Alps, love being outside and they love the cold and snow . Although their kennel is insulated, and although we have wall heaters for it….we’ve never had to turn on the heat; the dogs have a very natural ability to keep themselves warm. Continue reading
The Flea Circus
When I was a little girl I desperately wanted to see a flea circus. Having seen them on various television shows and in the cartoons in the Sunday papers, I couldn’t wait to see one in person. When I asked my mother where we could find a flea circus, she told me that she didn’t know but that she didn’t think someone could really train fleas to do tricks. She said she thought the whole idea of a flea circus was itself a trick. I didn’t really understand what she meant, I just knew I wanted to go to a flea circus.
A few weeks ago my husband Steve and I, along with some friends, went to the Sherman’s Valley Heritage Days in Blaine, Pennsylvania. This annual event features old farm equipment, steam-powered engines, people in period costumes, home-made baked goods, arts and crafts and this year… ta-da…Marty’s Flea Circus! It took me fifty years, but I finally found one.
Marty, flea wrangler extraordinaire, told the audience, which was mostly children, the names of the fleas and from where they came, including one that he got from Evel Knievel. The trained fleas did all kinds of tricks, from moving steel balls to being shot out of cannons and jumping into cans. Unfortunately, now that I’m in my fifties, my eyesight isn’t as good as it once was and I had trouble seeing the tiny fleas. But the children, whose eyesight is not yet aged, saw them clearly. 
Daily Prompt: Tiny
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Hobo the Wonder Kitty
It was May 2nd, 2012 and I was in the kitchen when I heard my husband Steve call to me from outside, “Lorrie, come here, you’ve got to see this.” Continue reading
Apple Cider Memories
My son Aaron has always loved apple cider so I was not surprised when he purchased a 125 year-old cider press several years ago. The cider press, still in its original condition, is both beautiful and practical. Although Aaron bought it to make himself hard cider, which is similar to an apple wine, my daughter-in-law, Renee, saw the potential for a new family tradition, and so the Annual Deck Family Apple Festival was born. Continue reading
Batter up!
I was in bed watching television late one evening when my then college-aged daughter came out of her bedroom and said, “Mom, look at Jo, she’s just running back and forth in the hallway.”
I looked towards the doorway of my room and saw Jo, our Cocker Spaniel, shuffle past my doorway, then shuffle past again, going in the other direction.
“I don’t know what she’s doing,” Kinsey said as Jo ran by again, her nose pointed up towards the ceiling.
“It looks like she’s watching something,” I said.
Kinsey looked up. “Bat!” she yelled as she ran back into her room, “It’s a bat!” Continue reading
Splendippity 