I used to beg my Mom for a nickel every single time, non stop when we visited the Curiosity Shop so that I could look into this machine.
I could not imagine what kind of naughty things were in there.
I was desperate, beside myself, frantic even.
I had to know what I would see and it would only cost me a nickel to find out!
Then one day I could imagine all sorts of things.
So you do realize, I never dropped a coin into the slot- that would have spoiled the fun.
Mystery I learned at a very young age, is the sweetest treat life has to offer.
Don’t be silly and try to scarf the lot down in one sitting.
Daily Prompt: Partake
I took this picture at the end of what would be the last great Spring I’d ever have again.
I’m not sure what’s worse- knowing something like that for a fact- or wondering when
I’ll feel that good about the world around me again.
Today is Godzilla Thursday because it’s my blog and I say so!
When I was a kid I wanted Godzilla for a pet more then a dog- which is saying something. I loved dogs. I collected pictures of dogs. I dressed up like a dog for Halloween and watched Werewolf movies religiously so that I could figure out if there was a way for me to turn into one because there wasn’t movies about turning into dogs and I figured that Werewolves were as close as I was going to get.
Yes I was an adorable child.
In the end my family produced a dog.
The timing was suspect because I had gone on non stop for days about wanting Godzilla and being that I was sort of a dingbat I was probably driving everyone insane while I fought my Godzilla for a pet crusade.
Here’s a picture of me holding my dog, which already had a name ( imagine that!) when he came home.
His name was Blackie, the adults told me before the front door was already closed and his leash was off.
You do realize he probably didn’t have a name yet and my Dad and Grandfather made it up on the spot to avoid having a ” Godzilla ” in the house.
I realized it and I was only six years old at the time.
Blackie was a feisty little dog.
He joined me when I jumped up on the furniture and growled at people when I did it and he happily followed me up on our collectors train set table which was about 50 years old when we got it.
We didn’t smash or break anything- I heard my Dad sort of choke and try to scream my name and I was so startled by that hideous sound that I fell off before the rampage began.
I was an Epic Godzilla failure- plus I sprained my ankle and did something to my wrist on the way down.
Shortly after I moved through my Godzilla Phase I went into my Headless Horseman Phase and that’s when the fun really began.
But I’ll save that for another day.
I’ve been meaning, for ages it seems, to make my leap back from Facebook to blogging.
I’m not sure about the how or why, but my efforts in the past have always been thwarted.
I have my sites for my writing and photography and those are actually pretty well used and maintained. I don’t goof off there and I don’t put anything on those sites without a reason.
Those sites are where I post my writing- and my writing is something I put a lot of work and my guts into. So it’s not a compost heap of the bits and pieces I pick up along the way when I’m on-line.
I admit. It is fun to sort of have a random place to go-like Facebook to express ourselves like we used to do on Bathroom walls and on notes and letters to our friends.
Facebook serves it’s purpose well in our new On Line Existence. We can give and get”Feedback” and all of those likes and one or two lines of affirmation that sail through when we need it the most.
Now entire communities grow on Facebook, relationships are started and ended on Facebook. Fantasies we have about other people and ideas are give flesh or a code and spat into existence. What we ate is on there to- and now it would seem all of that information is for sale.
But that’s another post.
The thing of it is, when I write something or take a pictures people go to my sites because they want to see or read what I’ve done. What I do on Facebook just pops up on someone’s phone and they are reacting to that little blurb.Or they are just outright nosey and stalking my page- which if you were involved in politics like I was is a very real thing and not just a feeling.
If I write something on my blog and post it, there’s more involved then you clicking an app and finding out what I think or what with the flick of your finger. When I write about these same things on my blogs ACTUAL reading is involved. Thinking is involved. Effort is involved. Yes it’s a chore.
Here’s the thing, if you want into my head and you want to ‘figure out where Anita Marie is” I’m going to make you work for it.
But I would like to think I am doing my part to add more to everyone’s horizon’s-including my own.
Plus, I’m a writer not a Facebooker or a Tweeter ( I still don’t get Twitter, it’s like getting yelled at all day long) So If I like something I’m going to show you, not just tell you.
That’s what writing is all about and in my opinion, that’s what life is all about too.
In case your curious you can read about Show Don’t Tell HERE