Friday, October 25, 2013

posted on the southern blog

"One more thing.
My comment here isn’t about politics. People are going to think all kinds of things when it comes to politics. This is about the southern. I can read all kinds of books on all kinds of subjects. Can agree or disagree with what they wrote. This is about the “musicality” of words and culture. "


Dear Sir or is it Madam,
I have to introduce myself and tell you the very first thing that I didn’t read this post until after I wrote about the possum. I am sitting here in the dark writing and fuming at the indignity of that possum and it’s threat to my chickens. I’m also listening to Travis Tritt and I’m good with that because I like to here Travis Tritt sing. (Also for the record, I love to hear Miranda Lambert sing because here songs remind me of all the crazy southern women I have met in my life.)
I am southern, born southern, and except for a few mandatory and voluntary forays out into the rest of the universe? I’ve managed to stay put. However, I have been in a kind of exile of my own making here. It’s not because I talk funny for here. I take regular for here. It’s not because I can’t fathom the culture. Lol I can fathom it til the cows come home….
So I’m thinking after reading a post or two I came here by an accident of curiosity and that southern curiosity that my mother said did in the cat. Every once in a while there’s divine in it.
Providence I hope
So hello and please write back even if I seem a stranger and strange.
It’s not me to blame. It’s my southern nature.
Regards to you and your kin,
Writer Ann
Dogs are barking. This one is a lovey but also a worry wart.
PS Do you speak southern?"

Something to sleep by until I find someone to sleep with... 
I just looked at the clock.  I've really got to go get some sleep.

These next couple of posts are all about belonging and home.

Let's start out with Alabama Shakes' song, Rise to the Sun.



. .

Good morning.
Yo UK?
Who RU?
If you can't comment here?
Find me on Twitter.
We can "...sit and visit..."


Head down.
Shoulder to the stone.
Get up.

Positive affirmation at my house.

Lol.  I had it okay.


Because I've actually been there. 

Once when I was a baby and lots now that I'm grown. 

Try as I may.  I can take the girl out of the south.  I just can't take the "southern" out of the girl. 

That's the truth.  

That said?

We tell the craziest stories because somewhere we've met or have relatives who love to ride the crazy train and drink.

And they love to tell their stories.


Lol the possum is so much a part of here and then I find this...

I found a web page.  I hadn't read it, didn't know it existed before I wrote the blog post about the possum.  That whole thing is so much  southern that I talk southern to describe it.  It's like hearing someone who's gone off to school to learn "culture" coming back home for Thanksgiving. 

You spend the school term learning how to act but then you come home. 

All these people are there and they've known you since you were small. 

They don't care that you're on the Dean's List or that you aced that exam.

Oh no.

They know you from the time you sat in that ant bed when you were four and your Aunt Ethel had to swat them off you.  They can remember your first words and worse yet your first date.  :(

They don't put you at ease. They don't "coat" you with southern hospitality either.  Instead? They put you in your place. It's their job. 

They teach you manners and culture. 

They have to "torment" you so that you'll know better.  Like the story about the guy who went out each morning to swat that seedling with a rolled up newspaper. 

Makes it strong. Gives it roots.  That way it won't blow over or break in a strong wind.

Thanks to them you know when to say "Yes, mamm."   You know when it's okay to say, "Thank you Mizz Katheryn," and when to say "Thank you Mizz Smith."  You know how to sit in church. How to eat in polite company.  I read that it was the reason why companies loved to hire southern students for jobs.  "They just know how to be polite and charming."


It's a cultural thing or a generational thing but it's definitely a southern thing.

I read the post and then their  About section. I thought that this isn't possible.

But I'm guessing that it is.

So I wrote them a letter.

According to the blog comments it's awaiting moderation.

That's good because the posts are current and maybe someone will finally write back.

And they'll speak southern.


The letter in question

Dear Sir or is it Madam,

I have to introduce myself and tell you the very first thing that I didn't read this post until after I wrote about the possum.  I am sitting here in the dark writing and fuming at the indignity of that possum and it's threat to my chickens.  I'm also listening to Travis Tritt and I'm good with that because I like to hear Travis Tritt sing. (Also for the record, I love to hear Miranda Lambert sing because her songs remind me of all the crazy southern women I have met in my life.)
I am southern, born southern, and except for a few mandatory and voluntary forays out into the rest of the universe?  I've managed to stay put. However, I have been in a kind of exile of my own making.  It's not because I talk funny for here.  I talk regular for here.  It's not because I can't fathom the culture.  Lol I can fathom it til the cows come home....   
So I'm thinking after reading a post or two I came here by an accident of curiosity and it's that southern curiosity that my mother said did in the cat.  Every once in a while there's divine in it.
Providence I hope
So hello and please write back even if I seem a stranger and strange.
It's not me to blame.  It's my southern nature.

Dogs are barking.  This one is a lovey but also a worry wart. 

Regards to you and your kin,

Writer Ann
PS  Do you speak southern?

And a link to the blog...

Come back if you get a notion...

Writer Ann

PS People blame the South and the heat,  I blame the Irish and the Scots.  I don't "blame" them, it's just that those cultures have had so much of an influence on the area.  They didn't just stay inside the fort. They visited outside too.

They tell great stories about the world big and small.


yODELEOOOOOO.   The UK is back. Howdy. Do you talk? Chat? Tweet? Something?  I'm not sleepy. Having to watch for possums. They only come out at night.  :(    See next post.

Now I know where my chicken eggs have been going.... aka How I'm Spending My Fall Vacation...


Public enemy NumberOne.  

(I'm thinking of making copies and putting them on telephone posts. Evil possum.! )

I am madder than my rooster at this moment.

There I was in the dark trying to get the last chicken into the roosting pen when...

Let me start over.

It's the middle of the night and the chickens and the dogs started barking.  Barking and squawking and I'm in the house thinking that that doesn't sound right. So out I go into the night to see if maybe one of them has managed to fly out of the pen. I  should be so lucky.  Two of the hens were clucking distress and the rooster and other hens are perched up on the fence.  None of them are on their  roost.  I managed to shoo the rooster and one hen into the enclosure with the other two hens but there was still one left. So I think to myself, "She needs to calm down. Good time to check on the eggs."  I have two broody hens that have been "setting".   We thought that we'd heard a peep of a baby. I was anxious to check while the hens were up from their nest.

What a surprise.

There inside sitting on the nest wasn't a hen but a possum.

A big, nasty, smiling, egg yokes coming out of his mouth, broken egg shells everywhere possum.

There in the middle of the night, while I was trying to coax that last hen into the roosting area, that possum was munching on my girl's eggs.

That instant? I named him Thomas because he was smiling this big ole grin like it was an honor for him to have caused such malicious mischief. (*See below)

I was not amused.

I managed to get the hen into a safe area and the lid up on the nesting place. Mercy only knows what the neighbors are thinking because every other word  I said out loud wasn't nice.  I've got my rake trying to contain that furry rodent long enough to get the water hose.   The possum just sitting there with egg yoke breath. I couldn't stand it any more.

(Do not lecture me about the sanctity of life, Gentle Reader.  That rodent could have killed my chickens.)

At that moment, I did the only thing that I could do.

I sprayed him with the water hose. 

I'd keep spraying him too. I didn't want him to EVER come back. Not EVER.

I kept spraying him as he waddled from the hen's nest across the hen yard.  I'm thinking that I'll find out how it got under the fence.

It didn't crawl under the fence. Oh no.

And this part really made me mad.

I have 10 feet tall fence around the chicken yard

and that possum climbed it.

Up and over it went, one little possum paw after the other.

Then it proceeded to walk along the edge of the fence and climb down the other side. Like it was a spider monkey on an after lunch ramble.

The entire time I am spraying him with a water hose and he's acting like is a sunny day.

I am so angry.

One third of the eggs in the nest gone and the broody hens all upset. I'm not sure if they'll go back to roosting after this.


*NB I have named him Thomas because he is a mean, evil, BS artist and I don't care for this four legged thief any more than the two legged azz that he's named after.

Boo and hiss ... 

:P times 2.


Thursday, October 24, 2013

Note to Gentle Readers,     I was just thinking that maybe you can't or don't want to comment because you don't have Blogger or such.   Maybe you would like to comment on the Twitter?   :)     Writer Ann.   CU there.  

One of the photos on my Putin blog didn't show up.


Better not be any censor ship on my blog.

Besides President Putin looks fabulous in that fishing photo. 

No, it is not disrespectful to President Putin to post those photos because I assume he posted them first and on purpose.

Rock on Prez Putin.

Lookin' good.

Work it ya'll. 

"... I'm beautiful dammit..."

We all are.



.Time to go do stuff.

Happy reading.

Welcome to 12dotsandablot.
This is a writer's blog.
A fiction writer's blog.
Fact and fiction peacefully co exist here.
If you don't know which is which?
Please, do not ASSume.


Writer Ann
Dear Mr. Putin,

Are you going to publish a calendar next year? 

I think you should.

Please include lots of out door activities

like hiking

and fishing

in your calendar photos.

You, sir, are cuter than the current James Bond, Daniel Craig.

Dundahdahdah dah dah dah Dundadadahdah da dan < james bond theme

Heck, Mr. Putin, yer cuter than a speckled puppy dawg. :) .

Added to the Santa list. One Mr. Putin calendar.

Yay. !

Dear Santa,  

I have been exceptionally good this year. I lost some weight.  I ate a salad (or two). I was a good listener to a friend in need. I tried not to ASSume (too much). 

Santa,  I want some boat parts for the boat and about 1000 feet of dog wire for outside. This year I'm going to dispense with the groveling and just come out and say it.

I need a vacation.

I need a really good gynecologist who has absolutely no trouble with prescribing important medical type things.  Estrogen/Progestin are a good thing. Soy milk? Sucks.

I need a good mechanic for my car which while old is really low on miles and still looks fly.

I need my son to knock it off (he know what I mean)

And Santa I need to break this drought known as my sex life.

I am perking up. What's the good of the hormones if you can't do anything about it.

I'm not picky here either.  It's not too much to ask for age appropriate.  I'm liberal on the looks but not on the sense of humor. That part is non negociable.

And one more thing.

I need Craig Ferguson to go back to being the 2005 Craig Ferguson.  This new one looks like he is miserable and might quit.

I think that's about it. Ah one more thing. Remember Sailing Buddy?  He's back and personally I don't care for it one bit.  Can you please get Sailing Buddy a girl friend and a good reason to live across the country in another state?  I'm personally looking forward to Sailing Club without his being anywhere around me. Please?

Get him an acting job AND a girl friend in Bora Bora and I'll be delighted.

Please also get Pup to go to college. It's paid for. He's smart enough. I need his room for an office.

Send photos good looking co eds  and letters of acceptance from the college of his choice before he drives me mad.


Oh and one more thing.  I am tired of being a disinherited slacker person. I'm a writer. It makes me happy.  I need a writing gig.  This domesticity is not fun.

It sucketh.


That's about it Santa.  I'll write again if I can think of anything.  Thanks for not letting the water heater be too much of a pain. I'm relieved because now I KNOW when it's going to break down and if we're going to be able to handle it or not.  It did and we did.

I hear the sound of pitter patter of size12 shoes tapping their way down the stairs. WB was pizzed off last night. I'm not sure if it's a trend.

Better go see.

Happy day,

.Not a rant. I'm just tired, tired, ti-erd of getting yelled at about things that aren't my fault. It looks like the world is in general plucked up.  Lots of incompetent idiots yelling at other people in the hopes that no on will notice that they, the yeller, is a pluck up.

I'm not playing that game any more.

I'm planning Christmas.  I don't care that Holloween hasn't shown up.

For me it's about Christmas and being happy.

Leave me alone poopy people.

I am a flower.

A Zen like creature who totally at one with the Universe.

I am free and breezy.

Breathe in.

Breath out..

Just think.

Only (insert number) days until Christmas,

Can life get any better,


Yeah, I know.

It's Fall.

The leaves are falling and not much looks like Summer but what the heck....


I love this version with the syncopated rhythm.

"I'd like to help you son but you/re too young to vote..."



Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Dear Fans OF CraigFerguson,

As most of you know, this week is re runs because TV's Craig Ferguson (CBS) is on vaca-- is working on the road in Canada. 

For those who don't belie- who would like to keep up with Craig I think that you can check @craigyferg on Twitter where he actually uses technology to help us all keep up with his and JRT's hijinks on the road.

Fun. Fun. Fun.

If you are wondering why Tv's Craig Ferguson is spending all this quality time in Canada?

I think that there was a pole.

Uh poll.

I think he talks about it in this helpful, informative video...

(You are welcome.)




I'm so hap-py. I'm so hap-py.  I'm so ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ppy.

Have to put this here so that I can keep up.

Glee goes to the UK and goes posh-punck drunk......

:)  teee  very satisfying

Hey kids try a mash up!!

click above

Wait to the three minute mark and click the following youtube.

Then listen.

If you do it right it is awe inspiring.

Try it!


It is very good.  Like riding the crazy train and trying to  listen in on the conversations..


It's been a long day. People are mad at me and the dogs are restless and I'm just trying hard to make it past dinner without yelling at someone.

This makes me happy.

Be glad.


I found this on Google.

You're welcome.



Tuesday, October 22, 2013

I thought that this was a PSA for Herpes...

Tell the truth.
Doesn't this look like a metaphor for the guy that gave you VD and all those other people he slept with before he slept with you?



I'm positively giddy from all this freedom.

Lol I told Pup and WB that I appreciated that they had opinions and gripes. I told them that they should write all those opinions down on a piece of paper, put the paper in an envelope, and send it in as a letter to the editor. 

Then I got up and walked out the door marked "I don't care."

It was fantastic.


I did it!

I looked up someone from my actual past on the Internet.

I did.

And more important?

I actually found them.

I was soooo surprised but more importantly?

Mr. Most Likely to Succeed?

Mr. I'm learning Chinese because in the future it will be important?

Looks like Mr. Peanut.

I might be wrong about this because after all lots of people share the same name but ---

I'm fine with this being the person I used to know because the fella who used to play music and was the darling of the Philosophy Department  now wears polo shirts and hasn't changed his eye glasses since the 70's.


I don't know why I am so happy but I am!!!

Do I want to go say hello?

Oh no.

I'm good.

Can't wait to tell my dad.

My dad thought he was the person most likely to get arrested.


He's Mr. Responsibility.