This blog was started to advertise my new book but I realized you might want to know more about what I do other than just writing books.
You can read my poems. my Flabbermouth stories and view my art. I hope this gives you a better idea of who I really am. I will share with you how I deal with chronic pain. Hopefully together we can help others.
My about page tells you more.
If you have not already read ‘A Hairdresser’s Diary’ now might be a great time to enjoy this inspirational memoir. You can find it at any of these links. Read the reviews and then write your own. You can get it in e-book or printed form. If you prefer an autographed copy you can now get a digital signature for your e-book on Amazon.ca or .com.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?keyWords=A+Hairdresser%27s+Diary&categoryId=100501
http://www.ahairdressersdiary.com/
Water drops
Flabbermouth 4/ The drinks are on me
Marilyn, a very good friend, was having a bridal shower for her daughter Lynne. The unanimous decision for not having strippers at either the shower or the stag was agreed upon by all. She was not sure how to make the shower fun without the silly parlour games and party favours. So she decided to have the showed at a well-known reputable hotel and local bar. The idea being no one would have to drive home inebriated.
I have never been a drinker. My childhood memories of drinkers and the fact I took so many pain meds were both factors. I did, however, like one drink that my stepsister learned to make in Bartending School. The love of cherries was my downfall and the fact the drink had cherries in it was a plus. The drink was called, ‘A Cherry Hooker’- cherry brandy and orange juice with 3 cherries impaled on a plastic skewer. I always requested a whole lot more orange juice and a lot less brandy.
It was quite the joke about my heavy drinking. My kids teased me saying, “If you even open a beer bottle in the same room as Mom, she gets drunk.” Ron said I was a cheap date to say the least.
I was looking forward to the night out and figured I would nurse one drink. Therefore, anyone I didn’t know would not ask questions. I did not advertise my no drinking habits as sometimes I found I was defending myself. I was also not familiar with the new fangled drinks that were circulating the bars. I will not say I am a prude, but I am a bit naive.
When I arrived at the hotel, everyone else had already been seated at a table. I knew most of the girls, but there were a couple new faces. We had our introductions. Marilyn then asked, “Who wants a drink?” The hands were flying in the air and an array of drink names shouted out. Marilyn waved her arms and said, “I think the late comer should place the order.” Everyone thought that was a great idea. I of course was the late comer.
“Okay,” I said, “What is everyone drinking?”
Marilyn looked at me and smiled, “You will have to memorize the drink names, they are not what you are used to.”
“Not a problem I will write them down.” Then I asked, “Why don’t we just give the order to the waitress?”
Lynne piped up and said, “If you give them to the bartender first the waitress can just keep filing our orders for the rest of the night.”
I shrugged, “Okay no problem.” I started to write,” So what’s the order?”
I was surprised at the list, but I was assured I had it written down properly. Off to the bartender I went.
Now I was sitting on the high stool looking straight into the face of this very handsome, young man. Behind me, I could hear giggles, but didn’t pay too much attention. I needed to concentrate on the drink list. Oh boy, where was I to start?
Okay I would start with the simple ones first. Leslie wanted a Screwdriver. With that, the bartender nodded. Carol wanted a Planters Punch, again a nod. Betty wanted a Slow Screw? Yep that one was okay but with that one, he smiled. Lynne, ordered a Slow Screw with a twist? Whew, this was getting a little embarrassing. The bartender didn’t even miss a beat. Now for Cathy’s she wants an Orgasm. By now I was getting a bit flustered and had my face lowered and my hand shielding my eyes. Now flabbermouth blurted out, “Do you know how to make a Happy Hooker?”
“No my dear but I do know how to make a hooker happy.” With that, everyone at the table burst out laughing. These wonderful ladies had set me up. The bartender was in on the whole deal. The drinks were indeed real drinks, but the girls at the table were not having any of them.
The most exotic drink served that night was my Cherry Hooker. Now who other than your friends would love you so much and feel comfortable enough to embarrass you in front of a cute bartender and still know you loved them.
Flabbermouth # 3
I was not going to share this story with anyone to-day with Christmas so close, but I think it might be a positive thing. My friend Cheryl just called to tell me she is still laughing and doesn’t think she will stop anytime soon.
Cheryl came for a Christmas coffee this evening. She noticed the card I had from our vet with our late Cercie’s footprint on it. We started talking about our furry family members who had passed. We discussed how we felt they left us far too soon. I talked about my Cercie and she talked about her Wishbone. I teared up for a few moments, as I remembered how Cercie buried her weary head in my bosom, while the vet relieved her of her unbearable pain.
Cheryl asked, “Did you have her cremated to keep her?”
“No, we just had her paw print made. It is preserved on that plaque on the fireplace.”
She said, “I can handle anything, but cremation.” She added with a shudder, “I had to watch a movie on it for nursing and I found it far too hard to absorb.”
We talked about how she cannot be in the same room with ashes, even her own pets. I felt bad for her. I knew, by the look on her face that this was a very uncomfortable subject. Yet, I also could see it was something she wanted to share with me. Her husband and she had a heated discussion about their pet being cremated and she was afraid she was losing.
I remembered that once before she had told me, she and her hubby would be cremated when the time came. “Have you changed your mind?” I asked.
“No. It just creeps me out and I can’t help it.”
“Well,” I said, “Ron and I have our plans already. The fact we are being buried in a family plot dictates cremation.” I continued, “As a matter of fact, I told Ron that we should consider a plan I have.”
“What is that?” Cheryl asked.
“I think we should be buried in the same Urn, at the same time.”
“How would that work?” She questioned with a frown.
“Well whoever goes first would be kept in the Urn until the other passes.” I continued with, “Then, when the other one goes we would be put in the same urn together.”
Flabbermouth striking again said, “The only thing I ask is that no one shakes us up. I don’t want something stuck in my mouth that should not be there, especially for eternity.”
Cheryl started to laugh so hard, she was snorting. “Oh my gawd,” She cried through her snorts. “Chris, only you could take something I am afraid of and make me see it in a whole new light.” Hunched over with a stitch in her side and through tears, she repeated, “I am so happy I came for coffee tonight, I just hope I can drive home without the car shaking.”
The phone rang disrupting the moment. Her hubby wanted her to go pick up her kids at soccer and go home. She could not even talk to him she was laughing so hard.
“Yep she is on her way,” I told him.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Absolutely, alright.” I replied
As I said in the beginning of this story, Cheryl just called. She wanted to tell me she may never fear cremation again, but the vision I left in her head is disturbing to say the least. My last words to her before I hung up, “And you thought the Kama Sutra left images.” She started to laugh again and I could hear her snorting between, “Only you Chris, only you.”
“Good night, Cheryl.”
Chapter Two
Sometimes remembering the flabbermouth moments are painful. This is especially true when I realize just how dumb I really sound. In some cases, it might take a few minutes or so to sink in. Remember the reference from the last story, my not being the brightest bulb on the tree? This is one of those occasions. I however cannot believe my family still has it in their memory bank. They cannot remember my birthday, but this is burned into their brains.
The family and I were sitting on the couch watching a science – health show one evening on tv. The discussion was on how individual parts of the body function and moves.
The first part of the program was based on the problems and function of our joints.
The second part discussed the damage that could be done by smoking and what it does to the organs and growth hormones. I found all of this rather interesting and it had me thinking. I was taking it all in as at that time, Ron was a heavy smoker. I on the other hand had never parted my lips for the deadly cancer stick. So in my mind part of getting Ron to quit smoking, would be in this new-found knowledge.
When the first part of the show was over. Ron noticed I was staring at him intensely, “What on earth are you looking at?” He said with a rather inquisitive look on his face.
“I was just thinking.”
“Oh no, not again.”
“Yes again, the show has made me think,”
With that, he rolled his eyes and the kids laughed.
“Oh oh, moms thinking again,” piped up one of our rug rats.
Now I was determined to show them I could say something smart. So out it came. “Honey I want to be serious now ok? I have an important. When we talk, what jaw moves our top or bottom one?”
“You are kidding right?” Ron questioned with a furrowed brow.
“No!” I was annoyed he would put it that way.
Then as if the family had rehearsed the response for weeks, they in unison started talking. Moving their heads up and down, pushing their heads back trying to keep their bottom jaw still. They were laughing so hard they almost rolled on the floor. “Anymore questions dear. Does any one have anything to say to your mom?” Hysterically one after the other they teased me. I soon saw the humour in the latest ‘flabbermouth’ moment.
That night when we went to bed Ron apologized for being so hard on me but he said, “Honey you have to admit it was pretty funny?”
“I know now it was.” I said embarrassed but still able to laugh.
And then, ‘flabbermouth’ hit me again. “At least I didn’t tell you I was worried about smoking stunting your growth.”
With that, Ron reached over and patted me on the head and as I turned around to face him he said, “Like this?” There he was with his tee-shirt pulled up over his arm with only his hand showing wiggling his fingers at me. I slapped him and rolled over but not before hearing. “Honey life would be so dull without you?” With that, he got one more giggle in before falling asleep.
Swirls of colour
I have been wondering what I can do to keep my blog interesting while I continue to write the sequel to “A Hairdresser’s Diary “
http://www.ahairdressersdiary.com/Home_Page.php
So I thought I would post some of the stories I am writing called “MY FLABBERMOUTH SERIES” ( flabbermouth is my word for foot in mouth moments that leave one flabbergasted ) these are true events that have happened in my life over the last 50 years. I hope you enjoy reading them and at least get a chuckle. In some cases those who know me personally these might bring back a memory or two.
Chapter One
I am what the world classifies as the queen of ‘flabbermouth.’ I am always saying something at the wrong time or in the wrong place. I am the unpaid family clown making everyone laugh although most times it is not planned.
My kids would say, “Oh it is just one of mom’s ‘flabbermouth’ moments again.” The sad part for me, but the entertaining part for my friends and family, is that I don’t realize what I had said until it is pointed out to me. Then even I can’t believe I said it.
Poor Ron just shakes his head in embarrassment or disbelief. One would think after so many years he would get used to me right? Wrong.
I love to cook and experiment with many different dishes. Each member of my family has their favourites and on this particular night it was Ron’s turn to have his choice. – Breaded deep-fried squid.- Yuk! As much as I didn’t like the cleaning, cutting, feel and look of these creatures, I sucked it up and did the dirty deed. I made Ron his favourite no matter what the sheer yukkies did to me. The kids teased me that the tentacles looked like baby spiders, so that didn’t help the situation in the least. The thing I detested more than squid was any type of creepy spiders.
Passionately I cleaned, and then cut (into perfect sized rings) I floured, battered and fried these discussing looking morsels. All the time working with my nose turned up. Every so often taking the time to reminding Ron how much I must love him, to do this wonderful loving thing for him.
Now the moment of truth, the taste test. Was it up to par? I had the squid all set out on a nice white dish with condiments ready for him to dig in. If I say so myself, it was a very appetizing looking dish. The kids each took a fair-sized portion and started to eat, when Douglas said, “Dad don’t the tentacles look like spiders? Annoyingly, I told him to stop talking and eat. I gave a shudder. Ron looked over at him and smiled. The most devilish smile I have seen in a while. Winking at the kids, he picked up one of the tentacles and placed one hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He then started to chase me around the house and into the back yard. As I ran, I was squealing for him to stop. My neighbour Delores who was outside watering her lawn hollered to me, “Why are you squealing?”
Out of breath, I pointed and said, “Ron is chasing me with his testicles hanging out of his mouth.”
With a curious look on her face she said, “Oh my, how talented he is” and started to laugh hysterically. Before long, it was going around the small neighbourhood how gifted my hubby was. I was teased, for a very long time. Some snickered and one friend made reference to the ‘squid on sale.’Some of those friends even pretended to have something sticking out the corner of their mouths teasing me unmercifully. That was until I did or said something else which made them forget that ‘flabbbermouth’ moment for another.
All the teasing was in fun. I however have not lived this one down. Even to-day when my kids or Ron sees squid. I think I can hear them say, “She’s not the brightest bulb on the tree.” But, we love her. Lol. This is something I have never doubted.
To day I decided to do something a little different. I posted one of my poems “My Love Was Like A Rosebud.”
Also a flabbermouth story “The Mother of all headaches” and last a couple of paragraphs from my book “A Hairdresser’s Diary”- “My first day at school.” So please check under the appropriate heading to read these.
I hope there is something for everyone to-day.
Here is one of my painting just to make you go awwww.
Fawn in the grasses
Come and visit my foot in mouth stories. Everyone needs to laugh and a chuckle a day is good for us all.
Christine M. Hannon, Author, Artist, Poet and Entrepreneur 