March first, ask questions later

March, I thought, would come in like a lion, judging by the last few days of February. But the wind has died down, and I suppose it arrived seeming more like a lamb.

Were we in ancient Rome, we’d have celebrated Matronalia today, in honor of the goddess Juno. Women got presents from their husbands and daughters, and husbands offered special prayers for their wives. Women were also expected to prepare a meal for the household slaves (who were given the day off work), as Roman men did at the Saturnalia.

The only bit I got to do was fix food. Here, today, the slave did not get a day off! Sometimes I wonder how in the heck other people do it. We only have three adults and one spoiled dog in this household, yet enough trash is carried out the door that you’d think we ran a private school. And there are ALWAYS dishes in the sink, and the dishwasher always cries to be emptied. (It’s spoiled, too, just like everything else I own.) No one else can empty it, you see. It’s some sort of unwritten rule. They put their dishes in or around the sink, and they magically get rinsed or scrubbed and put into the washdisher! It’s magic! Same with clothes and the washing machine. Did you know that some people actually have a laundress? Yes. It’s amazing.

I tire of this bright world. We need some time floating down the river. It’s time to plan a tubing expedition.

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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