Fleetingly Carol

     I have a friend who works in a public library located in a small town that serves the town and the surrounding countryside. She, herself, lives out in the country, as does most of the employees at this library. The town is just too small to contain everyone. Nonetheless, it is a very professional library and they go to professional development meetings fairly often to improve their skills. Most of these meetings are held in larger, more urban libraries. The following story is from one such trip.      Exploration seemed to be the order for the day, since they arrived a little early. Librarians are always exploring and getting into things. You know the old saying, “Curiosity killed the cat”? Well, librarians can get into that sort of trouble. And they did that day .(NO, of course, no one died)  . .      The children’s area in a library is always the most interesting with its vivid colors, clever use of floor space and usually a fun puppet or two on display. Thi

     Dear Reader, do you remember the post titled "My Fleeting Labor Day" posted September 6, 2010? If not, I encourage you to go back and read it, for the following story is about the same person. Her identity is hidden for her own protection because my friend is more blond than she pays to be.  Take for instance, her recent trip to the mountains. I would not have discovered this if her husband wasn't such an eavesdropping pea-ninny. My friend and I were having casual conversation over coffee one Saturday morning, talking about our experimental container gardening, pets and the problems inherent with them, husbands and the problems inherent with them. Somehow talk of husbands led into getting away from it all. My friend expressed her desire to see Europe on $100.00 a day, I want to see the northeast U.S. in the fall. The talk turned to driving through mountain passes when her husband entered the room with a wicked look on his face. We didn't realize he w

A very dear friend from childhood came to visit last week. We had not seen each other in several years, although we kept in touch via email and social networks. When she called to say she would be in town, I looked forward to a delightful time reminiscing about old friends, teachers - oh, and old boyfriends we stole from one another.         When we met at the restaurant, I almost didn't recognize her. Her once-cinnamon colored tresses were every color of blond imaginable. And her deep brown eyes had become a strange color of green.          "How do you like my new look?" she beamed.          "Um, wonderful . . . um, beautiful . . . um, why?" I couldn't think of anything else to say.          "Oh, you know."          Oh, I do? I have the same mousey blond hair I was born with.          "We're getting to that age, you know. Where the grays are popping out. Anyway, I always wanted to find out if blonds really did have more fun."

Oh, my! It's been over a year since my last blog! I didn't realize that until Anonymous posted on one of the posts to ask why I would advertise a blog on the back of my car when I don't update regularly. I have egg on my face and I will try to do better in the future.  One of the reasons I quit blogging was because for Christmas of 2011, I received an IPad. If anyone has ever tried to do any sustained typing on the onscreen touch-type keyboard, you know how impossible that is. A few months later I bought the wireless keyboard to go with it, with the idea of resurrecting FleetinglyCarol. I wish, Dear Reader, that you would go now and reread my blog from  Tuesday, October 12, 2010 -  Fleeting Skills. I shall wait. Go ahead. I'm a very patient person, don't worry about how long it takes. Are you finished? Good, now on you understand where I am with keyboards and my ability to use the micro-sized boards. This keyboard for the IPad was going to r

This is a blog that I began last week. I don't think we are too far into the new year to list our New Year's Resolutions - you know, those things we make so that we can break them. Here's a partial list of my 2011 New Year's resolutions. I am not posting the entire list for your protection. 2011 New Year's resolutions: 1. Lose weight - I tried the Seafood Diet for this resolution . . . I see food and I eat. I'm about 10 pounds heavier than at the beginning of the year. I must try something different in 2012. It's tough being gravitationally challenged. 2. Publish a book this year. Yeah, right! 3. Spend more time with Old Man. That was fun and added more fodder for this blog! 4. Organize my home. I lost the refrigerator the other day. That didn't help with my Seafood Diet. I finally found the refrigerator, but now my car keys have gone missing. "Hail St. Anthony! Come around. Something's lost and must be found." As you can see

Many, many years ago, I met a wonderful lady. She was my mother-in-law's best friend, so when my husband's mother died suddenly in an automobile accident, Aunt Mildred adopted us. You see, Eldest Son had been born only six months earlier and she couldn't stand to think of her friend missing out on all the growing-up that was to be done. Out of a heavy loss came a life-long friendship of an odd sort. I grew up in a city and Aunt Mildred grew up on a farm and lived most of her life in the country. While Old Man loved to eat her biscuits, I preferred to watch in fascination as she worked her magic. She made the best biscuits I ever tasted. She kept a two foot tall tin of all-purpose flour under her kitchen sink. When she wanted biscuits, she would pull the tin out, add some shortening and milk, knead a few minutes, working the dough with just the tips of her fingers. She measured nothing. I asked her one day if she would teach me to make biscuits. She told me she couldn'

Almost a year ago, I wrote about finding my oldest son in a kitchen cabinet. The story began with a disembodied voice. Well, Dear Reader, this son is now over 30! Since that calamity, there have been new technologies to come out that offers twice the fun at half the effort. Older son telephoned me the other night, but when I answered my phone, all I heard was static. After a few minutes of confusion, I finally heard his laughing voice. He apologized for the static; he said it was caused because he called me on his phone that he forgot was still synced with his Bluetooth ear bud which was in a cabinet. So, the static I was hearing was really Older Son ripping everything apart to find his ear bud. So now he has his story of finding Mom in the cabinet! &#169 2011 Carol Phares