Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

“I’m just pointing out that the attic disappearing was funny until you realized that something of yours was up there too. How you take that information is up to you.” “Like I said, she has a mean streak.” Tinkletoes says. Writer Lady watches as Tinkletoes studies the room. Particularly where the wall meets the ceiling. The self-proclaimed mercenary sets his mug down on the counter. He retrieves a chair, placing it as close to the wall as possible, he stands on it. Tinkletoes begins pushing at the air where the ceiling used to be. “What are you doing?” Writer Lady asks. “What if this is one of House’s tricks? What if the ceiling and the attic are still here?” “Like an optical illusion?” She asks. He nods. Writer Lady shakes her head. “Not possible.” “Why?” “Because if the ceiling was still there you would have knocked yourself unconscious. Your head is where the attic used to be.” “Really? I didn’t realize that your ceiling was so low.” “Where do you think

“Changes to floor plan will commence in five, four, three, two, one...” “Again?” Writer Lady stands in the middle of her bathroom wearing her bathrobe and waits for the walls to stop moving. The walls change from a white to a cool mint green color. She looks at the walls and mutters, “I feel like I traveled through time and been dumped in an ice cream parlor. All the room needs now is pink and white stripes.” In a matter of seconds, accents are changed and Writer Lady finds herself surrounded by pictures and accessories covered in stripes of crisp white and bubble gum pink. “And the nightmare is complete. Thanks House.” “You’re welcome.” House responds. She lets out a sigh and exits the bathroom only to find herself at the end of a long hallway. A hallway that looks like someone poured melted rainbow sherbet all over its walls or a unicorn sneezed all over them. At least there wasn’t any glitter. Not yet anyway. Rainbows and unicorns are usually followed by some sort

I do not like to blog about writing because it seems like everyone who writes writes about writing. I prefer to travel off of the path that everyone else is taking. While I’m writing, anyway. Tonight, I feel compelled to share. When I feel compelled to share then y’all get a page full. At least. Because for me, talking writing = lots of words. By the way, if I ever become too long winded, ask me about my cats, switch to cooking, move into shopping for food and skip over to going to the mall. I hate shopping. It shuts me up at least eighty percent of the time.   Let me get back on topic. Yesterday, I was mowing my lawn. Yes, I’m still mowing. I don’t control the weather. Anyway, I was mowing and thinking about regardless of how much I enjoy doing it, after a full spring and summer of yard work I am ready for a break. Then that all too common phrase popped into my head, “I need a hero.” I need a hero, someone to save me from my yard work.   Wishing for a hero to save you from y