july2008 pg3

Archive – July 20080 commentsE
Posted Jul-12-08 21:38:41 PDT Updated Jul-13-08 05:13:01 PDTFlowers in Summer
by hannah murphy 7-12-08

Flowers in summer
The heat of noon
Ice tea and salads
The smell of roses fills the room
Ladies drift in cool summer dresses

Hat and gloves

We speed through this life in armor and steel
Hardened and wise in steel high heels.
But ladies who lunch in those cool summer breezes
Haunt like a ghost
Gosemer ghosts who float on the breeze.
Glide through my mind
On this hot, dusty road.
Like the ghost of a gentle mirrage

Poem dedicated to LadyWhitknee to say thank you for her kind encouraging post. Regardless of the detours of life, let’s keep our eyes to the stars.

Also the other poem about kindness to your fellowman.Abou Ben AdhemAbou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An Angel writing in a book of gold:

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said,
“What writest thou?” The Vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord
Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”

“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”
Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerily still; and said, “I pray thee, then,
Write me as one who loves his fellow men.”

The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest!

— James Leigh Hunt
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0 commentsAn old fortune teller in No. Mississippi told the tale…
Posted Jul-12-08 20:38:42 PDT Updated Jul-14-08 15:24:08 PDT
“…With all the tales of Indiana Jones and crystal skulls, it is easy to over look a little know legend of a skull lost to time in what later became a north Mississippi sweet potato field. The legend resurected itself many times during it’s existence. The last to tell the story was an old fortune teller working the Mississippi/Alabama Tennesee carney circuit. That old man heard the story when he was just a bit. Heard it from the old haint’ who told fortunes in a shack under the Tupelo bridge. All the women of the town knew that old woman. She was the local voodoo queen to some and a healer to others. They all went to have their palms read and fortunes told. Who would they marry? Would they have kids? Would they be rich? The questions never changed and that old woman was pretty lucky with her answers. Then one day a little boy brought her a coin. That child wasn’t more than 6 if he was a day and she never was sure why he came to her. He said he just had a feeling and came to her because he heard from his big sister that this old woman knew how to “decifer” feelings. If she’d known her actual age she’d been surprised. She was 101.

There he sat in that old woman’s shack down by the Tupelo bridge. She cupped the coin in her hands and watched his eyes. A shiver ran through her and she had a knowing that just wouldn’t stay still. “Boy. You are a mailman of God you are. In 80 years your going to meet a man who’s gonna give you the answer to your questions. In mean time listen to me. Keep this coin as safe as you’d keep your own life. You wear it around your neck. I’ll fix it. That man will come to you. You give him this letter from me. You tell him it’s from me. You do and he’ll believe you. Don’t know why but he will.”

From then on, the old woman taught that boy to conjure. All the old ways and signs of the weather and such. Taught him the night sky. The things her mama had taught her and she was right to do so. Never had she a better student. He soaked it all up like dry ground did water. Then one day she died. Had she known her age then she’d been surprised. She was 125 years old.

That boy, now a man, was her only family. Well him and the 3legged dawg. So he took it upon himself to see that she was buried. Not in potters field but in the church cemetary. There was quite a flak about it, Those “church women” did not like the idea of an old voodoo queen buried in “their” church yard. But, ya’ know, the preacher and that man boy won out. Together, alone, they buried that old woman. On top of her lay the soil of Mississippi and the soil of Santo Domingo her mama’s home. She kept that dirt her whole life in a Mason jar on the shelf next to her Bible that she, a devout Christian, couldn’t read and her “cards” which she could. Irony that.

But where was I?

As he looked down on the mound of dirt that separated him from her. His adopted grandmama and only relative besides his sister called to him from the grave. In his heart, he heard the words, “Don’t forget. You are the mailman of God. Be good for the Lord.”

So he lived. Now, all the women of town came to him to ask the questions. “Who will I marry? Will I have children? Will I be rich?” Nothing changed much in that part of the world. Oh they liked to think they left the old ways with their cars, electricity, and telephones. They hadn’t. He was now the voodoo king. Was consulted by one and all. All the time remembering that someday, when he was very old, he would get the answers to his questions.

It was during this time that a fella was learning about the exploration of the southeast. He weren’t from Misssippi. Naw he was from up north. As a kid, though, he’d studied all the great explores of the South. Ponce de Leon and his quest for youth. Columbus and his thirst to find a way to India. William Bartram and his nature studies of the south. Pirates that hid out down around Bay St. Louis. DeSoto and his ill fated exploration for gold. Poor old DeSoto especially kept his interest.. In vain, DeSoto searched for the gold that lay right under his feet. It just wasn’t meant to be I guess. This fella studied then all and dreamed of the day he too would explore and find rare things. From a child’s yearnings to a college scholarship to study anthropology at Old Miss. Something propelled him forward. Even as other things conspired to keep him back. Then one day he found himself at the foot of the Tupelo Bridge at a baptism and foot washing…

To be continued… Next?

“Kelley’s cross roads and Crystal Skull.”…

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0 commentsDecisions Decisions Decisions.
Posted Jul-12-08 20:22:09 PDT Updated Jul-14-08 17:14:15 PDTWell before I ask my little questions on decision making. I just thought I’d take a minute and say.


Did anyone catch the New Yorker magazine’s lecture on the use of parody and irony in magazines. Special emphasis was given to magazine covers. Amazing lecture.

Especially of interest was the use of tennis metaphors.

That “back spin” metaphor was breathtaking.

And I thought the “Hemorroid. The Blog. reprise” post was funny.

Now back to more important matters.

This question isn’t as stupid as it sounds. It’s about making decisions. Oh and I forgot. You are also hot and sweaty from working outside and need a shower. And you have one other chore outside that you need to do. You could put it off. You’d rather not but you could.

Then the phone rings.

(The answering machine is off.)

What if it was winter and you’re all bundled up. Still thirsty. Still need to shower. Still have that one remaining job that you could put off but you’d rather not.

Then the phone rings.

(The answering machine? Off.)

What do you do?

Answer the call or let it ring.

Happy Sunday reading.


Dear Mom and Dad, Guess what I lernt today


Your darlin’ daughter
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8 commentsSomedays I think that no one understands me.
Posted Jul-11-08 08:57:18 PDT Updated Jul-23-08 11:40:01 PDTThen I find somewho who does.Time to visit that little old tiki bar in the middle of Virtual for a little:

What I learned last night? Well I’ll tell you. I learned it’s a jungle out there kids! Don’t forget to wear clean underpants.

Oh and folks 12 dogs is a Fuss free zone. If you’ve had a bad day and want something nice? Welcome.

Take your time and read the different posts. 12 dogs and a blog isn’t a sequential diary anymore. It is a writer’s journal. I try to write something new in it anyday. Some fiction and some fact. The idea is to try and get it down on paper. So don’t just stop at one post. Keep clicking the words in blue. There are all kinds of posts you might not have read before.

It’s different but entertaining when you get the hang of it.

Now folks I have a life just like ya’ll. Gotta get to it. Thanks. Ann

Comments On but Hidden.

LOL Reply to comments:

That’s a favorite Christmas song because it talks about Fruitcakes and it’s joyous. But it’s not anti holiday. It’s about how “nutz” folks go about the trappings of the holiday. The “craziness” surrounding the holiday. The decorator trees and the perfect gift. Like if every little thing isn’t perfect CHRISTMAS IS RUINED (not). I’m, just not that organized. And hey we play Christmas carrols in July because it’s 1/2 way to Christmas and hot. Christmas carols cool us off. So maybe that is alittle nuts too. So. Who cares.


LOL Did you read my story about wearing clean underwear? Not just good to wear clean underwear. Good to WEAR underwear. Was my face red!


Hey nice person. Always nice to see your face. Always welcome. Notice that you’re always around spreading kind hellos. Glad to see you.


LOL. Keep reading. I’m not one to write to hurt. Won’t even pretend to be oh so witty. I do love words. Love reading how people put them together to form ideas. I really love to get paid for it. I’m not holding my breath. You know one man’s wheel of cheese is another man’s life. I don’t make fun. And there has been such sadness in life I try not to add to it. I have my days. I could get down and really mean but something else keeps me from going there. I think that deep down inside that the anger folks bring to the light of day began as a hurt. You don’t yell at a hurt you try to bring happy.

You like words.

I like books and ideas. I like living quietly or loud as the case maybe. I don’t like being unkind inorder to get a laugh. Sure folks laugh but it is at the expense of someoneelse’s heart. Keep clicking til you find my “homage to fromage” you’ll find that it is kind. I like cheese. I like happy. Do you? Like happy? Do folks hug your neck? Agape. Things here aren’t meant to be mean. I’m just sitting here in God’s waiting room talking to others and reading the magazines till he calls.

Hugs 2u All.

I really do have stuff to do.

If someone is really reading this blog because you enjoy it. I hope that you’ll explore the blog and comment. That you won’t leave.

Finally, I know there are folks who’ve been having a field day making fun. I could rail against it but that would just be a waste of time. Plus I’m really not sure why you would bother. What the heck could you get out of your efforts? To hurt my feelings? Again what would that get you? Nothing. Plus it’s possible that you don’t even know what the heck I’m talking about. It’s like the phrase “…you deserve your happiness…” . That can be right up there with “bless your heart”. Depends how someone means it. Very Old South passive aggressive from some and “face value” by others. I like the face value stuff but I have been a bit PA when ticked. Ask. It prevents troubles and fusses. I don’t like the fusses. For instance if you asked me, this post, Good morning world! is nice. Sorry but I just like nice. And heck I could be wrong and not understand you either. Maybe we should embroder this on our pillows and read it every night…

“It’s not all about us. Most time it’s about anyone else but us.”

Reading the worst into something is how trouble starts.

Besides, I’m still surprised when anyone reads what I write. Don’t ya’ll know that I’m supposed to be a screw up?

Now if anyone else comments on this post I’m sorry if I haven’t answered. I will.

And so I do.

Additional comment for additional comment.

When you aren’t immersed in a sea of books… or riding your bike…or eating pizza, or caring for family…when you have a minute and you aren’t reading…or writing your beautiful blog…what do you do?

Uhmm. Agape. The comment above. I used the word to illustrate, to ask, if a poster understood agape. I wondered. I only see fragments of people here. Like the avitar photos of an eye or lips or TJ’s hands. A clue to the person but not even close to the entire person. Talk about randon. Oh. So I was just wondering. The internet is quite an interesting place with so many different view. Case in point. There is a posting of a sculpture. It’s huge baby. Looks newborn. It’s on it’s side. Naked. The stump of the embilical cord still there. It’s eyes closed almost. To the poster it was sculpture. It was to challenge the viewer. People will come that sculpture and view it through their own experiences. It’s really too bad that the artist wouldn’t be there every time someone viewed it. Same with the internet. It’s good to ask. Thing is I kind of doubt that they will even think to come see if there was a supply to begin with. LOL

I was trying to find the meaning of this word after meeting a person in Alabama. He was the personification of this word. Hyperbole? No. Not at all. I swear if there were angels and they walked the earth? He’d be one. Agape would describe the fella. Wasn’t just me either. later a fella saw him and out of the blue began explaining what an extraordinarily kind person this “angel” was. He’d had a difficult time as a child. He could have been angry and mean but he wasn’t. It was this level of peace that you could feel. So I went looking up the word. So many different kinds of emotions for one little four letter word. Agape is spiritual love for fellow man.

The notion of agape and also blind charity must be in the Buddhist religion as well. Along time ago I took a meditation class taught by a young fella who said he was a Buddhist. He was talking about the act of kindness for fellow man. I really like the term human kindness better than the word “love”./ “Love” has been co opted to describe such a wide range of emotions. It’s used from I love my kid, my dog, my gramma, my new Iphone and love my wife. Human kindess like the word agape gets to the point. Kind of like Oprah’s random acts of kindness. This fella tried very hard to be kind to his coworkers. He worked in this huge hospital complex and knew lots of folks. If he heard that someone was having a bad day he would send them flowers signed from a coworker. You couldn’t do that now because folks might think you were a stalker. Which is sad when you think about the original intent being to be nice and make someone feel better. Nothing further.

Life is a bit complicated.

Ah random. Pretty good that. Not boring. Some might disagree with ya. About the random part. They might say that it is the subconscious that directs our conscious thought. The folks in the “there are no accidents” camp.What if you went back and looked for a pattern. There would be a common theme. If the inspiration comes from what you read that might be the key. The pattern of your reading choices. Sorry. I’m not adverse to random but have been looking at patterns for long. It’s kind of a habit. But I’ll try to remember not too.

Do you read so very much? I used to devour books as a youngster. It is where I started my collection. You could order books at a discount at school. Paperbacks. Boy did I ever buy books. I still have some of my books if mom didn’t throw them out. I started the same habit with my son when he was very, very small. Since his book world was limited to the library and the children’s section (great library/ great bookstore for kids) I told him that he could buy any book. There was a limit with toys but never books. I still have that rule, only now he chips in with his own funds. But he has his own huge book case full of books that he’s collected all his life. I gave him some of my books. My mom gave him many of her children’s books that she bought when he was young. I even gave him my Nancy Drew originals that I bought over 40 years ago. The AA Milne collection of stories and poems that is over 50 years old. Poor kid. We read Winnie the Poo until he had the first paragraph memorized.

“James, James Morison’s mother…”


Happy night. I’m glad that I got to see your last colorful post. Oh, it is beautiful Sumptuous. The colors.Take care.

Any other comments I’ll try to ask in the AM. I’m missing another installment Adams.WB, oh excuse me, JJB and Pups have already started. For the random? JJB made chinese. Something sweet and sour and hot. I’m full as a tick. Hugs my agape internet friend. Thank you for your explaination and beautiful blog entry.

Ciao bella,.


Oh and Good morning world!

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5 commentsGood morning world!
Posted Jul-11-08 08:04:51 PDT Updated Jul-11-08 20:43:01 PDTI don’t really have anything to write at the moment. No clever saying. No story. There’s all kinds of earth shaking things going on. Thing is there’s other folks who can tell this to you. I just thought I’d say hello and hope that you have a good day. What do you do with your days? What do they look like? I know alot of folks list or buy here at eBAy. Muffbro is about to do both. Stay tuned. He’s about to list something I hear. Check his blog and see. I know I am. I know that Frisky plays with his cats and feeds his animal friends. I know that he can sing and play the guitar. He plays at the senior center. And from the sound of it he’s a heck of a good cook. I know that Saenz keeps a jumping with chickens, and goats and kids and school. Pegs keeps folks here in stitches with his posts and raises kids and his garden. Newtlovesrock writes the most amazing stories. You can read her story The River on her blog. Kook flits between ebay and her blogs getting us to all think KOOKY and not be so glum. K*8 ride her Harley through the blogs leaving us all laughing at her creative work. Dinners in his gruff way gets us all to think. Bengal lives the hiaku life. Workingman and Imagine are a tagteam of ideas here and in real life. Hula girl if you can coax her out to write has a lovely blog. Perf and Nana and Anna and ladywitt just by being remind us to be sweet…
There are the folks in England and Scotland who are busy as bees while we in America sleep. Dancers and horselovers. Artists and fellas who run delightful eBay stores. There are lovestories that are bigger that any Ocean. A chief in England in love with his lady in America. Adian and Sun are back too. Then there are the Aussies and Kiwis. Mercy love them. How is it possible to be so much fun and so open and kind. Ask the Aussies. Ask the Kiwis. They’ll tell you, I bet, that they aren’t sure and then proceed to show you by their great fun and spirit. G’day ya’ll. Spring’s soon if not there already. . .
I like the day to day of folks. Here at eBay are day to day is world wide. 24/7. At any hour of the day I can shop world wide. Talk world wide and I can say hello to you. To me the comings and goings of this place is as interesting as any novel
I like it better because it is real.
What does the real you do?

for the Aussies

Rare Sugar *Nigel Westlake
This is a modern classical piece written for clarinet and oddly enough a real live chemist who is studing –rare sugars. The story it presents in that of a chemist in his laboratory studing the unseen world of molecules. Like a Sorcerer’s Apprentice the chemist finds himself caught up in the magic of modern day Alchemy but luckily without the bad luck!
Past Life Melodies * Sarah Hopkins.
You just have to hear this. Lovely. If I knew you better I’d tell you that this music is a good way to get to know someone’s digery do. Better’n Barry White. But then I don’t know you well enough to be that free with my words.
This musical piece was written to make folks voices like a digery do. I like digery dos because of that buzzing sound. It vibrates. Digery do’s are one of the oldest muscial instruments in the world I’m told. Next to the human voice.

Well it’s time to talk to my Guardian Angels. Mercy knows what that conversation will look like.

Take care and g’day mates, Ann

Lookin for the fuss freezone?

click here > Somedays I think that no one understands me. note I answer the folks who left comments on this post.

for newer blog entries click

Calling All Angels there’s a Message in a Bottle
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0 commentsHmmm anyone wanna’ go
Posted Jul-10-08 06:51:56 PDT Updated Jul-23-08 11:30:12 PDTto Mojito night at the Wash n Brew? Sure it’s a combination bar and laundromat. But heck the music’s good and so’s the 2 for 1 Mojitos. AND my cousin’s running the legal clinic on Tuesdays with two for one no fault divorce clinics on Thursdays.

Okay so not funny and you’re going wha’ the heck but at least you’re awake.

Which is good cause you got to go to the next link.

Somedays I think that no one understands me.

To them I say NUTS!

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0 commentsNUTS!
Posted Jul-10-08 06:47:55 PDT Updated Jul-23-08 11:48:50 PDTMaybe someone gets this. Anybody? If your were reading this, do you get it? (Note. I think this is in reference to a time not being linear and all here on the blogs. It’s somewhere. In June I think or maybe end of May. There are alot of posts by now. Anyway just kind of skip it till I find the time after time posts. Thanks)

Oh and through out all of this, like in “real” life there’s a playlist. Music.

Do you have this song on your playlist?:

A Song For You

Ray Charles or Donny Hathaway or Christina Aquilera or Donna Summer or heck even The Carpenters.

This song. Mmmm. I heard someone use the phrase “panty dropper song”. Crude huh. Yeah it is. Thing is they kind of got it right. This song, that while missused by the “player’s” of the romance world and cheesy, is in it’s heart a really great song about love. That connection between two folks. The place where agape meets carnal. I’m adding the song because of the notion about a meeting of hearts and minds over space and time. How we can be oblivious to each other then suddenly a window, kind of like a window on a computer screen or a window in time, opens. A door opens and you are suddenly very aware. Like WB’s brother who just married. Here in the last days of his life a window opened. In walks love. These are the strong connections that defy the confines of geography or the strict definitions of time. The intimate. The tender mercies and the cruel realities. Sometime the hold you gently and some time they grab you up and hold fierce.

The words that bring you

“I’ve been so many places in my life and time
I’ve sung a lot of songs, I’ve made some bad RHYMES
I’ve acted out my life in stages
With ten thousand people watching
But we’re alone now and I’m singin’ this song to you


The word that morph into

the sampling of the song in A Song For You by BizzyBone.

Either way, whatever singer, whichever song or even on 12 dogs blog. We’re all talking about the same thing.

“… a place where there’s no space or time…”

I love you in a place where there’s no space or time
I love you for my life, ’cause you’re a friend of mine
And when my life is over, remember when we were together
We were alone and I was singin’ my song for you

Just thought it fit the concept.


Time After Time

Cyndi Lauper

This song is linear time. More reincarnation than time travel. You don’t go back and forth in Cyndi’s world. Nope. Here it’s life…after life…after life…after life…after life… Different from the concept of a reality “… where there’s no space and time.

Okay people. Wake up.

Of course, she does go

back in memory.

Somedays I think that no one understands me.

Let me tuck one more song here Sheryl Crowe’s Soak up the Sun.

Just cause.

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1 commenta new word in blue
Posted Jul-10-08 06:38:56 PDT Updated Jul-14-08 12:14:54 PDT”sparkalicious” adj What something is when it is simultaneously sparkly and “delicious”. No, you don’t eat it. The other “delicious”. The definition if the word delicious is put between quotation marks.


Used in a sentence.

Honey, on you, that dress is “sparkalicious”. Of course, it’s too bad it makes your butt look big. Grin.

Calling All Angels there’s a Message in …here somewhere.
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1 commentHi ya’ll. You’ve got mail.
Posted Jul-10-08 04:08:18 PDT Updated Jul-22-08 18:34:59 PDTMail to be posted here:
Thanks She and Detour. Still not quite here but better safe

Thanks Working man. Rest here anytime. Hello to Imagine and very grand kids. Best. Ann

Tahhhlooooooooolahh. LOL Got yer message. Thx.

To the person who asked about swapping emails. Contact me via ebay Messages. We keep missing each other but I’m not avoiding. Ann

Calling All Angels there’s a Message in a BottleComment|Report this post
3 commentsCalling All Angels there’s a Message in a Bottle
Posted Jul-09-08 21:13:09 PDTDear Guardian Angel, As you know I’ve been your problem child for quite a while now. Why only this morning I managed to pixx off a very nice person that I haven ‘t even had a chance to really get to know. From there I went on to put my big old Southern rear into just about every mess possible without once intending to go there. First, GA, I am sorry. I know I told you that yester day when I had that wee bit of a problem with time management. But hey it turned out okay. I did get a pretty good poem out of it. Only you and I both know that things are getting a might bit complicated in my little corner of the world. I got another one of those “eeeedicks ” that dealt with my shortcomings.

This has got to change. I know. But please do we have to take the off ramp to McDonalds here. As much as I like a big ole Happy Meal, I like to eat them. Not cook them. They will fire me. I am truly that bad. The only thing I’ve ever done right is art school and I quit that. You know. Now I find if I don’t kind of light a fire under it. I’ll be going to “Happy College”. And well that kind sux. I really thought all was lost. And then.

I found hope.

And the letters WFMU. And they had music too. And they had an alternative format. And, and, and, they are about a million miles closer to NYC than I am. And they mentioned something about radio theater. Do you think any of them have heard of FireSignTheater? I used to have an album. I’d go get it but that would mean that I’d have to go back to my mom and dad’s house. I think they sold it or tossed it. Course my dad could be listening to it. Man he’s getting weird. Hard to be an old pirate when you’re land locked.

And if you are out there WFMU?

It was a miracle.

Not sure why yet. But well I just thought I might like to let you know. Cause knowing me I’ll find some way to screw it up. For once, GA, I’d just kind of hope that I didn’t. Or that the celibate thing would be over soon.

Screw it up.

Good night ladies

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5 commentsGood night ladies
Posted Jul-09-08 20:11:42 PDT Updated Jul-22-08 18:42:35 PDTHello. Well it’s bedtime for this Bonzo. Will answer mail in the morning. Hopefully– possibly– still on speaking terms with internet friend. If I could take back the last 24 hours I would. I really would. As it is things are kind of like a neutral rating in FB. On the one hand we don’t have to avoid each other but on the other hand it’s not looking like they’re going to write me back. I’m hoping that the morning will bring a happy email. Dunno.

Better than this afternoon but still kind of not really talking.

Got comments from some really nice folks.

Got email from nice folks.

Will answer comment/email in the morning.

Hopefully will have better news in the morning.

Till then? Remember:

A friend is someone who likes you.

But sometimes the road to that friendship can be bumpy.

Hugs and “I’m sorry”

So we said I’m sorry. I think. You’re still here. I’m still here. This is some kind of record. I’m glad.

Oh, You’re not the only person with the–er—time management issue.

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0 commentsMail call.
Posted Jul-09-08 18:00:34 PDT Updated Jul-22-08 18:09:50 PDTHello Gentle Reader. Well today has been one for the books. Beautiful day. Interesting day. Now almost over. Good time of day to “catch up with the mail”. Now “catchin’ up with the mail” is a little different here at 12 dogs. Not like the “snail mail”. Here’s were we catch up on the days comments and email if there is any. So grab ya’ cup of coffee, glass of spirits, or a big old glass of sweet tea and settle in yer favorite hammock.

Here’s the answers to today’s “mail”.

Weeellll let’s see.


Oh hey lovely sweet faced woman on the front of this one. Says on the back simply.



You can say that again, kiddo.

Always glad to see you!

Hope your evening turns out to be a good one!

Like Kook you’re a kind person.



Okay let’s see what’s next.

Oh hey here’s one from a fellow author.

(Interesting fella and always fun to read.)

Front is the Courthouse in of all places Monroeville, Alabama. Hmmm. Must be traveling.

Less see

“Hey ya! Was out visiting the reenactment of my favorite novel. Heard Donna Fargo singing and thought of you.”

Uh Then there’s somethin’ here about me being a big ole’ fat dumb redneck who can’t spell worth a crup and lemmie see if I can make this next part out—mmmm– something about — hmm have to put on my glasses.

Okay the next part says:

“Take care

The one and only, Elvis”

Well heck. First off there aren’t too many folks in the world who get to call me a “… big, ole’ fat redneck who can’t spell worth a crup…” that I’d talk to. But I do like to read his writing. And hey wha’ he signed this “The one and only, Elvis” ??? LOL To quote Shania Twain, “…Who does he think he is? Elvis or somthin”. LOL That don’t impress me much. We’ll heck we all know that. He lives on in my heart, my 8track, AND my velvet Elvis painting that I bought couple of years ago over on The River. I like Elvis folks.

Well I’ll be. That was just about the nicest thing.

What else:


From someone who reads what I write. UmmHmmm. That’s nice. Thank you. Nah I don’t think my writerly skills are wasted here but thank you that was nice of you to say. Weeelll alot has happened today. Nothing to worry about. You’ve always been nice. Even when you’re trying to be snarky your kind spirit is self evident.

Oh hey there’s different reasons for everybody to have a blog on eBay. As for me this has been a great place to write while I was waiting to bid/buy. I am a buyer after all. And mercy I have been busy buying this past spring. And I just love to give happy feedback too. But that’s just me.

Plus, I’m surprised when folks read what I write.

So not to worry. I just sit here in my we’ blog and write away. It is after all a writer’s journal.That’s what I do here. The Blogland drama’s are for those who want them.

If they don’t want to come visit it’s okay. But it’s okay, folks do visit. Welcome.

Thanks and hugs. You’ve been kind. So dontcha fret. As for the future. Magic 8 ball says? “?”

That about it?

Oh heck no.

Got another one. Another post card.

Looks like. I’m not sure


Dear IronChassis

I like what you write,


First. I like your choice of radio stations.


πŸ™‚ Hmmm. Mama always taught me that when some gives a person a compliment that it is important to look them in the eyes and say, “Thank you.” I can’t look into your eyes. LOL She also said to make sure that a compliment should follow which was unique to the person being complimented. Which is kind of difficult. So. Try this.

Close your eyes. No, not yet. Read this first and THEN close your eyes. Okay. Now. Close your eyes, Think of my eyes looking back at you. We are looking right into each others eyes. Now look down. No not your “real” down look at your imaginary down. No, no,no,no.. I didn’t mean that far down just look down below the imaginary nose. Good now that mouth that you see is saying the words, “Thank you!” with a southern country accent. Good? Now look back up into those eyes again. And listen with your “ears”. Find something or someone who makes you so very happy and “feel” that “goodness”. Okay. No, I’m not making a pass. LOL. Okay That feeling of “happy” that you felt is probably alot like the feeling I felt when I read your comment. Okay. You can close your eyes now. Hugs. Iron.

Well I think that’s about it.

I’m in the dog house with someone. Somehow I managed to hurt their feelings while trying NOT to hurt their feelings. I hope they’ll write back but dunno. Sure didn’t want to hurt them on purpose. I’ve apologized. That’s what I do in the real world if I’ve hurt someone’s feelings. But I’ve tried the grand gesture when someone else left once because I hurt their feelings. If you aren’t going to accept my apology? You aren’t. I hope you have a good life and that things go much better for you. If you change your mind please. You certainly are welcome here.

Good evening to you. Will add other post cards as they come. Don’t think I missed anyone.

Oh heck yes I had one observation. Pot stirrers are for pots not people. This is true. I learned this from WB’s brother who definately won’t see Christmas with his new bride. I don’t give crup about all the stuff that people can stir up. Another one of my favorite relatives will probably be dead by the end of the summer. This is true and it is just sad. So ya’ll “pot stirrers” who like to wind folks up and send them out into the world can wind someone elses clock or “stir someone else’s kettle”.

I don’t have the time to waste on it.

But hey if you’re a nice person? I’ll stop time if I can for the conversation.

Take care,

Will post comments here.

Comments ON but Hidden because I’m not here to chat at the moment. But please come read or post a comment. I’ll answer soon. And remember: That phrase

A friend is someone who likes you.

It has a lot of truth to it.

Comment|Report this post
3 commentsA friend is someone who likes you.
Posted Jul-09-08 12:53:28 PDT Updated Jul-22-08 18:19:53 PDT”A friend is someone who likes you.” I first read this long ago. There was a whole industry built around this little phrase. It’s a profound phrase if you think about it. So many ways people define friendship but the simple truth is that they like you. And you like them. That simple. I actually wrote about this before. Think I’ll revisit it today.
Earlier in this blog, I wondered wheither or not the internet was changing how we viewed relationships. Wheither we needed new terms to distinguish friends in the real world from friends on the internet.
Hey I’m from the future kiddies. There is a word.
And the word is???

robot camera Read more So.I was talking to Odysseus and he said…

Got a lot of interesting responses. Most folks said that their internet friends were exactly like their real world friends. Some said there was a difference. I have also had people tell me that you shouldn’t pay attention to the words on the blog. That they were just words. That they couldn’t hurt. Forget friendships. The bloggers weren’t even considered human.
Time passed and I still think there should be other terms for the folks we meet on the internet. The folks who while we know many things about them we still don’t know their name.

I once “met” someone on the internet who was later reported to have died. Time passed and then one day a regular on the boards began to argue with someone who was new. The strangest arguement it was until the regular accused this new person of being an imposter. It seems that this new person was really the poster who was reported to have died. The regular poster was angry because the report of this poster’s death had caused many folks on the board such pain.

Another poster wrote a long entry of how long it took before she would tell someone her name. As a newbie she’d been given grief. To insulate herself she adopted levels of personas. Levels and levels of personas and email addresses just to get to the point that you knew here real name. Something that a real world conversation could have been known for most of us moments after saying hello. To not tell someone your name would have been thought of as odd. Yet she felt it was perfectly normal on the internet. She said it kept her safe.

Then there was another poster accused of “multiple personalities”. It was said that he was the author of many nicks. True or not, this poster finally left. People spent more time accusing than they did chatting.

I once talked to someone for months. Actually two someones. Many times during the same chat time. Two someones who turned out to be one someone. They lied to me. Built a whole persona around a fictional character and then had me talk to this character for months before the came clean. Then one night when it was just the “three” of us in chat they began to chat with each other as if they were mother and son. So I asked. That’s when “they” told me the truth. Only one person. Now I have a sense of humor. I like a joke same as the rest. This just hurt. Funny thing was they weren’t trying to hurt me. They were trying to get to know me. Very uncomfortable situation. Very.

But that’s not all. Oh no.

Then there are the bots. The bots programmed to hold basic conversations with someone. And it could learn too. People would sit there and wait for someone new. Someone who didn’t know about them to come in and say, “hi”. Because you know if you think about it, most basic “get to know you” conversations are pretty much the same. For the record, I didn’t do that. If someone said hello to a bot, I would tell them that it was a bot. It just didn’t seem fair or kind to let them look the fool. How could I expect someone to be my friend after I let them look like an idiot. How would they like me if I deceived them so?

That’s why periodically I post this disclaimer about 12 dogs. Because of my own experiences. Sure I’d love to test my characters in the real world. To see if the dialog of a story is to be believed. But the thing is people can get their feelings hurt. I don’t want to do that. Recently in my effort not to hurt a person’s feelings I did anyway. It wasn’t intentional and had we known each other better. If we had a history of trust with each other. We’d have talked it out before getting our knickers in a twist.

By the way. Just so you’ll know. It was this mornings story that wasn’t. It was the sad nature of it that I was worried would be hurtful or cause worry.

But we didn’t.

I don’t know if they’ll forgive.

Heck, even though I might have been abrupt, I don’t think I did wrong. But takes two to be friends and a friend does have to like you to be friends…

So, listen up kids. This is a writer’s journal. Fact and fiction live here side by side. I will talk about the real here. I do not chat in character. I also don’t try to deceive either. As I wrote above, there are folks on the internet who do. I’ve chatted with them and it feels like crup when it happens. Don’t want to do it. But I do write fiction here too. I like to write fiction because it allows me to try different voices. To find a writer’s voice? You have to practice. I do that here. And guess what? You get to be with me while I do. Ask me questions about a character. Yell, even, if you think I’m not doing right by what I write.

Now in the comments section of a fictional post? That’s me– unless– I’m using the comment section as an extended writing section or storage area. You know the deal here folks. Ask.

So how do you know? On 12 dogs you ask. On the rest of blogs in Blogland? In comments? It’s me.

I’m not sure if this really explains things but it’s a start.

If you have questions? I’d ask in this post.

As a matter of fact, consider the comment section of this post to be a chat area that is fiction free.

Every where else? You’re going to want to ask.

Happy reading.


Comment|Report this post
0 commentsSo…
Posted Jul-09-08 06:23:10 PDT Updated Jul-22-08 18:53:34 PDThere’s the deal.

You got two choices

You got your happy morning eBay post:

Good morning Ya’ll


You got an in interactive story.

… and the record on the record player…

If you are in a good mood or a sad one? Go directly to the happy morning eBay post. Do not go to … and the record on the record player… You’ll read it and then you’ll make an assumption that will be very wrong. This is simply a story. It is not personal. I am not having some kind of crisis. As Newt would say, “Don’t analyze.” Just read it for the , “oh” factor. I am just being a writer and in a very twisted way this is a great story. It is not about anyone at all. NO ONE. It is just pure writing. Pure writing. ALL MADE UP–FICTION. So you’ll know. I do not want to get worried comments or emails.

You know this is when I miss Gracie. She’d of gotten this story and I wouldn’t have to worry that she’d go off on some kind of worry tangent.

Just a story people.

Take the other happy one. But if you like writing and would give some comment? There are two posts to the story by the way. You have to find the link on the first post. It’s there. Other wise the story will just be stupid. So on the first post look for the link on the second post. Hint: Like feeling your way around. You can see it but not.

Go on and by the way comments off cause I’m not chatting cause I really do have to take a shower. Thanks. Ann

Talooooollllahhh???? Are you sure you still want to email? From all accounts I’m told I’m a screwup. I don’t think so but the chorus that says differently is pretty big.

I hope that you stay.

Comment|Report this post
2 comments… and the record on the record player…
Posted Jul-09-08 06:07:24 PDT Updated Jul-09-08 06:50:31 PDTkept skipping… and playing…

“…I’m the haaaappppiiiessttt gurrrlll in the whoollle USAAAA…”

“…I’m the haaaappppiiiessttt gurrrlll in the whoollle USAAAA…”

“…I’m the haaaappppiiiessttt gurrrlll in the whoollle USAAAA…”

“…I’m the haaaappppiiiessttt gurrrlll in the whoollle USAAAA…”

“…I’m the haaaappppiiiessttt gurrrlll in the whoollle USAAAA…” Comment|Report this post
2 commentsskip
Posted Jul-09-08 05:35:44 PDT Updated Jul-09-08 06:24:09 PDT

In her hand they found a note.

finally did something with my life-

love, Buck

Good morning Ya’ll
Comment|Report this post
38 commentsGood morning Ya’ll
Posted Jul-09-08 04:35:41 PDT Updated Jul-09-08 05:58:21 PDTI’m awake. Honest. I always snore when I’m awake. Sure. No. Awake. Going to take a shower. Comments on but hidden cause I can’t chat in the shower.

Just finished a big old bowl of buttermilk and Sunchips. Mmmmmm. Just like corn flakes only savory.

Back in a bit.


Thought I’d sing Pinball Wizard in the shower this morning… Feeellll mmeeeee. Seeeeee Meeeeeeee. Touucchhh meeeeee. Heeeaaallll meeeeeeeee.


Questions of the day
Do you sing in the shower, what do you sing?

If you don’t sing in the shower what do you do?

Morning shower or bedtime shower?

She get’s a long letter sends back a pos…t card time are hard OOOOhhh down in Mexico < More singing in the Shower…< James Taylor incase you wondered.
Comment|Report this post
2 commentsAdian
Posted Jul-08-08 21:28:01 PDT Updated Jul-09-08 06:06:48 PDTHey ya Adian. Is that you? Hello. How are you doing? How's Sun?Gotta go. Sorry I missed chatting with you both. Comments are on but hidden. AnnComment|Report this post
17 commentsShe get's a long letter sends back a post card.
Posted Jul-08-08 17:02:56 PDT Updated Jul-08-08 21:23:55 PDTGood morning. So what's the first thing you do in the morning? What's the last thing you do at night?

Tis a gift… to be goofy.
Well heck. I've not added to playlist.


James Taylor

Only because I think of the line "..gets a long letter/sends back a post card/ times are hard…" everytime I get an email to answer. Nothing really deep. Oh and I answered correspondence this evening. You've got mail.

Take care Ann.

Back later.
Comment|Report this post
2 commentsTis a gift…
Posted Jul-08-08 00:01:31 PDT Updated Jul-09-08 07:01:06 PDTTis a gift to be free. Good morning Gentle reader. How goes life? To answer a question. JJB is JJB. He will always be family but I'm afraid that may be that. We have history together and he has been kind this week. Bless fate's heart, she's wrong on this one. I listen to the end of Lake Woebegone on Prairie Home Companion. The wedding description. Sigh. If there is one someone for everyone? I'm in alot of trouble. I'm used to everyone wanting to be rid of me. Each one the next to be relieved that I'm gone. I'm someone elses problem. Only one person didn't seem to feel that way and it's not JJB. It was that idiot Irishman who's not given me moments thought in 10 years. Ever since we've parted ways? I sit at the precipice and ponder the abyss.

Ponder death.

JJB is just JJB.

Orange Skies of Mars

Thought any other way and my heart grows green

Sickly with the forced responsibility of this love.

Chained to a rock my heart. Dusty relic on the shelf.

Each rare laugh the efforts of Hercules.

The sound shatters and falls to the ground.

Shards of brittle laughter are all around me.

My body in turns hurling and creeping towards death

Towards the edge of light and shadow

My mind. banshee, howling cross oceans

Waiting for the sound that doesn't come.


Waiting and calling

Longing for the soul that long since found it's home elsewhere.

Crying for husband

Still waiting like a ghost trapped in twilight.

Banshee cries home.

Hannah Murphy 8 July, 2008

JJB is.

He loves Pup and tries to tolerate me.

He wants to love and understand. But he doesn't speak the language. I sit and wait for the cool hands on my face. The gentle, tender mercies that only seem to come from Wind. Wind who gently brushes my cheek and cools me in the garden's summer heat.


And I think George Washington was a Pygmie. Those beds at Mount Vernon are teeny tiny. I have shoeboxes that are bigger.

But I don't think that he was a cannibal Pygmie. He's just a regular Pygmie.

Oh and if he were here in all his tiny presidential glory?

I'd tell him not to feel too bad that he's a Pygmie. He is after all a very popular Presidential Pygmie. I'd also tell him that Today is the first day of the rest of…

his rhubarb. You figure it out. I'm a retired person. I don't have time to fight with presidential pygmies. You don't take the hope and dreams of these folks. They earned their happiness. And I have earned mine

Time for bed.

And like that Train song says

I'm just sitting here watching airplanes

Take off and fly

I'm just sitting right here watching airplanes

And wondering why

You don't love me anymore

Good night Gentle Reader.

Let's all get some sleep eh?

Nighty O

Best regards




emails and comments

To answer

Okay folks. You know that part where I say fact and fiction meet here at `12 dogs. Well this post would be a really good example. I exist. JJB exists. I am answering posts and emails. Your job to figure out which is your answer. Yes its weird. No it's not pretentious. No it's not chitin the chit either. Really isn't. Yes I was just seeing what would I could come up with. It's supposed to be random. On purpose. Bits and pieces. Hey think of it as photos in a box. Photos in a box with clippings. Something you find in the attic. The observation that you know little and only the writer knows is on the mark.

But you have a box of photos and clippings of a poem. It's raining out. The air is a live with swirls of dust and the sound of rain pounding on a tin roof. It's cold and clammy with humidity. The attic's cooled to tolerable. The heat fending off the cold air out side.

You're up in the attic. You find this box…

A letter. A poem. A song. Photos and … what's this?

Someone's hand writing appears in purple ink.

Part of a letter:

"…Dunno' . We all assume that the phrase "…you've earned your happiness…" means a good blessing. I hope so but dunno. I meant it as good but there are others who would say that "…you've earned your happiness…" would mean that one has earned their sorrow. That the happiness earned is none at all. It make the post interesting to say that each had earned their happiness portion. Full portion or not. Makes it realitive. The double take. The second look. If I were smart I'd take the interesting interpretation. To say see what a clever writer. But the person who said this? I'd look deep into their heart and say I'm not so clever. I want us all to be happy. To have home and companionship. Something to ease the way. Especially when life throws such a curve.

I hope that happiness that you said was earned is full portion. Home, companion, and someday heaven.

Not saint but because of tender mercies.

We really do have one interesting interaction.

Best to dad and mom. "

A Post card from LeMans. A photo of a racecar on one side and the following on the other:

"Thank you. Very much. Now if you could just tell this fella over here. πŸ˜€

Come visit anytime. I love company. "

Another post card? A photo on a postcard from the? You can't quite make it out. It's from an observatory. Some nebula on one side and the following on the other:

"…From what I've observed? The oddly phrased can some times tell the "truest" truth. It shows only the glimpse or photos of life. Just the facts. Leaves the translation to the beholder.

Oh, so. Am I male or female?

Since you asked."

In smaller print to the side of the above:

Take care. When am I going to get to come watch wrasslin and drink root beer? The LLSwTCF is in reruns. All I have here is all night infomercials and poker. All though I must say I'm learning a new appreciation of sleep.

Dogs are barking. You have company. Better go see.


Oh and don't forget love.

Today is the first day of the rest of… your life.
Sleep tight.
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