Tag Archives: marriage humor

Trying the Abhanga: #TankaTuesday

This is Part I of 2, Winter Solstice (December 21 – January 4) Touji season for Colleen Chesebro’s #TankaTuesday challenge based on the 24 Japanese seasons.

I decided to try an abhanga, which is an Indian form of 6-6-6-4 syllables with lines 2 and 3 rhyming. Generally, this form is–I believe–a religious poem form. I have bolded the kigo words.

This first poem is about Louisa May Alcott’s novel Little Women. In the book, Mrs. March shows the girls how to begin their Christmas by delivering food and care to a starving, freezing German immigrant family. In the mid-nineteenth century, Germans were one of the main groups immigrating to the United States. But the March family was living without the father for the time-being, and they were quite poor themselves. The girls ate bread and milk for Christmas breakfast because that was all that was left after feeding the strangers.

DELIVERING THE FAMILY’S BREAKFAST TO THE POOR IMMIGRANTS

Alcott’s Little Women

models Christmasy love

gifting others above

that of one’s self

***

Here’s another poem that uses kigos that fit with my daily life.

THE SEASON OF DAILY WALKS

on my pink sunrise walks

the wren and the robin

sing sweet carols, all in

for the season

***

I submitted the second section of my unpublished memoir to the Tucson Festival of Books contest. I received notice that it is a finalist for the contest. Last year the first section was a finalist in the same contest. I have been joking that I’m “always a bridesmaid,” although I am grateful that it is a finalist

Here’s a fun 101-word story published by the journal 101 Words. Hope you find it humorous!

https://101words.org/small-battles/

I’ve been working on the 5 minute challenge hosted by The Ugly Art Club. These are the first three spreads I completed. The prompts, in order, are CYCLE, LUNAR, and SLOTS.

May your holidays be healthy and happy. XO

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Filed under #amwriting, #bloggingcommunity, #poetrycommunity, #TankaTuesday, art journaling, Flash Fiction, Literary Journals, Poetry, Publishing, Syllabic Poetry, Writing

Phone Rage

Here’s a story of something that happened to me a couple of years ago. I posted it on the site “Cowbird” at the time, but I’ve taken my stories off that site now. The style of this post might seem out of the norm for me, but the subject matter is a typical part of my daily life ;).

Here ’tis:

When I answer the phone, she says, “Is this Luanne? Your credit card was declined. I couldn’t get your order of 24 jockstraps out today. Do you want to give me another card?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my card! I’m not even near my credit limit. Let me call the bank and get back to you.”

I scrounge around inside my big shoulder bag, looking for my wallet and the offending plastic, and then I call the number on the back of the card. I get looped around and around, passing go—the original menu—several times. I hang up. Neither the front nor the back of the card reveals another likely telephone number, so I go upstairs to the files and bring down a statement with a phone number.

After passing through several more departments, I finally reach a person. At first I can’t understand her quick robotic cadence. Within a few seconds, I decide she has said, “What may I help you with?”

I tell her my problem, and she researches while I sit on hold. Meanwhile, I file my nails, take off my too-tight bra, and check my Facebook. I can’t wait to call my husband and yell at him for expecting me to order all those jockstraps. 

She finally comes back on the phone, and I have to shake my head to wake myself up. “I am very sorry, but there isn’t any problem with your account.”

I explain the phone call I got from the sporting goods company and how I need to use this credit card.

“Yes, there is not any problem with your account.” Again, I have to pause to figure out what she’s just said.

“Well, obviously there IS a problem or I wouldn’t be calling you. What is the available credit on this card?”

“Okay, let me check that information for you. Would you mind waiting just a moment?”

“I’ve already waited! I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of this problem for,” and here I glance at the clock on my computer, “forty-five minutes!!” My foot taps wildly.

“Yes, I see. I am very sorry that you are having this problem. If you will let me check that information for you . . . .”

“Go ahead!”

After finding out my balance, I ask her how we can solve the problem when there isn’t a problem and how I can get my jockstraps.

“Yes, you want to know what the problem is. There is not any problem. Is there anything else I can help you with? I am glad to have been of service to you.”

I call my husband on his cell. “You won’t be getting your freaking jockstraps, and if you still want them, you can just order them yourself.” I hang up before he can respond. That’s the benefit of being married a really long time.

 

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Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Essay, Memoir, Nonfiction