Maybe someone needs a giggle....

A guy walks into a bar and asks the bartender, "Do you serve ducks here?"

"Yes, we do. We have several ducks who are good customers," says the bartender.

The guy reaches across the bar, grabs the bartender by his string tie and slaps him several times before running out of the bar screaming.

The bartender recovers his composure and wonders, "What was that about?"

A while later another guy comes in and asks the bartender the same question. "Do you serve ducks here?"

A long discussion with my brother about various longform fictions brought up some ideas I thought to share.

Story structure is key to almost all commercial and popular fiction, movies and television. What I'm talking about is what you might call the information flow of the story if you were an engineer (which both my brother and I have been). The segments below could be episodes or chapters or groups of episodes or chapters. In something as short as a novelette, they could be very short indeed.

I just got the news a few minutes ago. Felix, Katie's boyfriend texted me. Katie passed away after they got home from their paper route this morning. Heart attack, apparently.

Remember Katie who just wanted to touch people with her stories. She was my friend. And think of Felix who loved her.

Hugs to all,
Joyce

Felix, Katie's boyfriend, reports that they have the heart arrhythmia under control and the blood tests back so they can start fine-tuning the antibiotics. Katie's blood gases are better but that's after they put her on a breathing tube. Her kidneys are working so that's good. She spiked a temp yesterday and during it tried to get up and leave but they talked her back into bed.

Still very serious condition but the doctors believe they have things in hand and she should be getting better from here on.

Hugs to all and thanks for all the prayers and good thoughts,
Erin

Eleven years ago, Jeannie died on the day before Halloween, the holiday she loved for its morbid humor.

Last year at this time, I got out of town and went to New Jersey to be with other friends and try not to notice the loneliness.

This year, I knew I would be alone. I've been depressed since I got back from New Jersey in June, having decided then that I would not run away again.

I have been very ineffective in getting things done the last few months. This afternoon, I re-read my blogs and poems from that awful time and I cried. I cried again for Jeannie.

And today belongs to Cuddles. Happy eighth birthday, baby dog!

Had another good day at the con, bought some comics collections, including one of Groo off of Sergio Aragonés in Spanish. I asked him if he wrote the dialog himself but he said no, that he wrote the stories and drew them but as usual Mark Evanier wrote the dialog and then Sergio had some other person translate Mark's dialog into Spanish. Seems roundabout. :) I know that there are comics out there that Sergio has done in Spanish that he wrote himself but he didn't have any at the con. It sort of tickled him that I bought the one I did.

Daddy's brother, Uncle Virgil, dropped in on the New Years party that had turned into an Arkansawyer wake for Hank Williams. Naturally, the story had to be retold about the time he had shown up at Ma Dale's and eaten two whole fried chickens all by himself, with biscuits and corn on the cob and buttermilk to drink. Uncle Virgil stood five-foot-five and weighed about 120 pounds but he was a legendary eater.

I’m not sure how long we stayed with Ma and Pa that time, not more than a few months I’m sure. We moved into a house in town that wasn’t much more than a shed for a short time and then into a place I called The Little Red House. It had asphalt siding made to look like red bricks and it sat between the schoolhouse and The Big Red House where another bunch of cousins lived.

Mom took an immediate job in one of the agricultural sheds since Aunt Opal would stay at home to take care of me and John. Dad soon joined Mom, sorting fruit and vegetables for shipment. I seem to remember this as being cantaloupes, but that doesn't seem right since we arrived in fall after most of the melons would have already been harvested.

The song, "Big Rock Candy Mountain" may have saved my Aunt Opal's life back in 1951. It happened like this:

Today, September 19 would have been my mother's 87th birthday. It's also International Talk Like a Pirate Day. This curious fact gives me one of my favorite memories of my mom.

I've had something so good the last few mornings that I had to share it. I call it an Egg McMelton. :)

For each sandwich:
Chopped onion, about one thick slice chopped
Another slice of raw onion, red is really good
Two slices of crisp bacon, or not so crisp if you prefer
Some lettuce, iceberg is fine, leaf lettuce is good, or spinach
A slice of tomato, optional because I seldom have tomato in the house
An egg, the star of the sandwich

Here's a link to a sketch of the next project Daniel and I are working on, Sam Valentine.