Thursday, June 30, 2011

Friction At The Fireworks

                                                                                                 Julie Kemp Pick

Wishing on a star,
Gazing into each other's eyes.
Feeling the lakeside breeze,
Under the evening skies.

Cuddling close on a picnic blanket,
Delicious delicacies prepared by he.
Tucked away in a remote corner,
Oblivious to the surrounding activity.

Patriotic music playing,
Confessing all their future plans.
Reminiscing about childhood pasts,
Trying not to slip out of entwined clammy hands.

Music grows louder as the sky turns foreboding,
Lights start to flicker as fireworks are exploding.
Thunder and lightening take over the sky,
He's still optimistic while he finishes his pie.

He wants to wait it out as their feast floats away,
She's getting drenched while he's itching to stay.
Her mascara is running; her hair's in a frizz,
For fireworks he's still gunning, too stubborn to give.

She almost falls as she races in her swamp filled flats,
Just in time to catch a ride home with umbrella clad brats.
He calls to apologize hoping to reschedule for another fireworks show,
She politely declines while suggesting another place he should go.

Thursday, June 23, 2011


                                                                                                  Julie Kemp Pick

We experienced a major power failure that began around  9:00 Tuesday night. Fortunately, it cooled off in the evening and we were able to sleep with a steady breeze of fresh air, that was preferable to the steady breeze of snoring. This experience made me think of previous power failures that happened when our kids were little. 

When we first moved into our home about 22 years ago, we frequently had to deal with flickering lights followed by total darkness. I remember one year, we lost our power right after a big holiday meal and I had to clean up by candlelight after our guests went home.

Bedtime was always the scariest during a power failure when our boys were small; so we'd gather them up in our big bed with flashlights in hand, and my husband would tell them stories. They were used to hearing me ramble on all day long, but when my husband spoke they listened. He would tell them all about growing up in a family where English was their second language, and the many sacrifices his parents made for him and his younger brother.  If they were really good, he would spice things up by telling them some of the mischief  he got into with his little brother.  

This year there were no great stories, and no cute little boys to cuddle up with. Our younger son was driving in the midst of the terrible storm from summer school, so I couldn't help but try to wrestle him to the ground for hugs when he arrived home safely.

The next morning my husband surprised me by not going in to work, as their Internet service was down. While I was eating breakfast, I heard him rustling with his tools in the bathroom off of the kitchen. The room was pitch black except for the glow of his flashlight as he was fixing the toilet. Never in a million years would I think that seeing my husband shirtless, tinkering with the toilet would be such a turn on...

Friday, June 17, 2011

Late But Not Forgotten

                                                                                                  Julie Kemp Pick

 Susan Swiderski @ I Think; Therefore, I Yam  was kind enough to share two wonderful awards with me this week, The Stylish Blogger Award and The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award. This reminded me that I've been remiss about fulfilling the requirements for both The Stylish and Versatile Blogger Awards, which I've decided to combine as one mega award.  I'd like to thank Susan for waking me up in her own witty way, and I hope she won't mind that instead of writing 7 things about myself,  I'll summarize at the end with a poem. Rather than forward the awards, I'd like to change the rules again by revisiting the wonderful  bloggers who deserve a long overdue thank you.

Rhonda @.laugh quotes  has bestowed a few awards upon me. The most unusual one is the Overlord Award. I hope to fulfill all of those requirements sometime in 2012.  Recently Rhonda and I reconnected on Facebook when she told me about the A to Z Challenge. She has been a huge support to me, and has kept me in stitches along the way.

Julie Flanders @ What Else Is Possible  also awarded me with The Stylish Blogger honor as did Shannon @ The Warrior Muse.  Julie and Shannon are co-hosting an A to Z Visitors Blog Hop that is still welcoming participants.

While I'm on a roll, I'd like to give a shout- out to a few others who took time out to send me awards:
Pam @ Pirate Knitting 
Elizabeth Mueller 
Deirdra Eden Coppel 
Arlee Bird 
Sylvia van Bruggen

All of the above blogs are remarkable reads, and I encourage everyone to visit them as often as possible.  For those of you who are still with me, below is a poem that begs to be Stylish as well as Versatile, but is far from Irresistibly Sweet.


Cleaning toilets makes me hungry,
Messy houses make me weep.
When it comes to drama queens,
You may call me Meryl Streep.

I write lefty and throw righty,
Though I pitch more fits than balls.
My family quite often threatens,
To have me surrounded by padded walls.

I can't go a day without chocolate,
I can't go an hour without TV.
I shouldn't go a minute without make-up,
Voted "looks worst in the morning," by my sorority.
I'm happiest when my kids are oozing with excitement,
Telling tales that are oh so gripping.
That I almost don't mind tripping,
Over their rancid toenail clippings.

Have you heard, I have a spouse?
Who was forced to leave the house!
Before I could make any blogging corrections,
He was misplaced into Witness Protection.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The New Penile Code?

                                                                                                  Julie Kemp Pick 

Last weekend, the Chicago Tribune wrote an editorial about San Francisco's movement to ban circumcision by proposing the MGM bill (male genital mutilation).  "Its supporters, who call themselves 'intactivists', say removing an infant's foreskin is painful and unnecessary and can have lasting physical and emotional effects. It interrupts maternal bonding, stamps violence into a baby boy's psyche and leaves him traumatized for life."

The Tribune cites Mayo Clinic for including  these benefits to circumcision: slightly lower risk of urinary tract infections, penile cancer and sexually transmitted disease. However, the American Academy of Pediatrics joined with the American Medical Association, and Mayo Clinic in saying, "parents should be given accurate and unbiased information and make the decision themselves."  This is exactly how it should be, with no legislative interference.

 Is it just me, or is it no coincidence that this editorial is adjacent to a series of cartoons about Anthony Weiner? Is he just acting out, because his parents had him circumcised?  Will this unleash a whole series of unscrupulous acts based on a predisposition to the emotional state of  fellow pickle croppers?
All because concerned parents tried to make their sons lives better by nipping it in the bud for religious and/or hygienic reasons.

Even one of Russel Crowe's 228,000 followers on Twitter stirred up some controversy on the subject when she said, "My son is due soon. Do you think I should get him circumstanced?"  Crowe sharply replied, "Here's a life rule, if you can't spell it, don't do it." 


Thursday, June 9, 2011

Scramblin' To Make It Write

                                                                                                 Julie Kemp Pick

No matter what I say,
I just can't get it right.
It turns out way too heavy,
When I try to keep things light.

I work on something fun,
And then I hit a nerve.
I try to shoot it straight,
But I'm always thrown a curve. 

It's nice to keep it simple,
Never digging in too deep.
Then it rages like a pimple,
Bursting into a flaming heap.

Messages get distorted,
All themes have lost their core.
The mission is aborted,
And I have to swim to shore.

No matter what I say,
It stabs me like a sword.
But they still keep coming back,
My reward is, they're not bored.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Finding The Key To A Happy Marriage

                                                                                                 Julie Kemp Pick

A few years ago, my doctor suggested going to the ER after I complained about chest pains, so I drove myself over to the hospital, and checked myself in.  Although my test results were fine, and my pains subsided, they still wanted to keep me overnight for observation. By this time, my husband was on his way home from work, so I called to fill him in before I was assigned to a room.

After he didn't show up for quite a while, I tried reaching him again from my room on the high risk cardiac floor. He told me that he went to the hospital, but couldn't find me, so he left.

Last week we were on our way to the Botanic Garden when we realized we forgot to bring our parking pass. My husband made a U-turn on the expressway and headed home to get it. He pulled into our driveway, and quickly ran in to fetch the pass. I asked him to roll down  the window, so I could dangle my head out while panting in the heat. After 10 minutes passed and he still didn't come out, I decided to go in and investigate.

Consequently, my car door wouldn't open. I tried the automatic lock on the driver's side, and it still wouldn't work. I contemplated climbing out of the window, but didn't want to get stuck halfway, as either half would be subject to hideous gravitational pulls. Then I realized that I was locked in because his car has a keyless ignition, and the key fob was inside his pocket. Of course he wouldn't come outside to admit that he had trouble finding the pass, so I called him on his cell phone. He unlocked the car, and I retrieved the parking pass from the cabinet where I said it was. Then he muttered under his breath that it was all my fault.

Over the weekend, we went to one of our favorite cozy Greek restaurants for dinner. We had been walking around the city after we dropped our son off at a friend's house, and were quite starving. After we ordered, I went to freshen up in the  Ladies' Room. When I was ready to head back to the table,  I noticed the door was stuck.  I tried pulling with all of my might  and it wouldn't budge. Then I used some paper towels to get a better grip on the handle, but it didn't help. I had no choice, but to take a running leap into the door, and do the combination shoulder/kick dive. But I thought it would be easier to call my husband. He answered and let out a big sigh as he walked the three feet over to the restroom.

Later, I told our waitress what had happened, and she said that this usually occurs during the first signs of warm weather, and that the customers just pound on the door until someone lets them out. I said cozy not classy establishment.

Is there a lesson to be learned from being neglected, trapped and pretty much forgotten? The first thing I'm going to do is buy a very large tool belt equipped with a compartment  for a sledge hammer or an ax. Secondly, I will enroll in a course to become a certified locksmith, and it probably wouldn't hurt to invest in a dog whistle.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

The Dope On Online Dating

                                                                                                 Julie Kemp Pick

It started on a dating site,
Wounds still healing from divorce.
She wanted to take things nice and slow,
Let nature take its course.

He wooed her with witty emails,
Courted her with thoughtful texts,
She was virtually swept off her feet,
Wondering what would happen next.

The date was set, the time, the place,
They were finally meeting face to face.
She fussed with her hair, put on a curvaceous dress,
She waited in anticipation, of the first impression test.

She wore her heart on her well-toned sleeve,
Her inner beauty, he would never know,
All the plans they made together,
Based on the premise, he would show.