blogging · book haul · books · chick lit · destiny · Love · Paris · prose · reading · serendipity · Writing

Dollar Store Book Haul

I found myself at the dollar store this week, and it’s a really nice one. By that, I mean they have notebooks. I go through notebooks like people go through tissues. That’s just how it works when I work. Now is the time to get the notebooks because now it is back to school season. They also have 2025 calendars out, and although all of these things used to be one dollar, now they range from $1.25 to $1.50. One cool thing I know about the dollar store is there’s a little section of hardback and paperback books. I don’t know where these books come from, but they’re not books I’ve ever heard of. Yet, sometimes, you can find a real gem. For $1.50, it’s worth the splurge. If you’ve been to the book section of the dollar store, you know you have to dig through all of the titles and there are numerous duplicates, so digging is mandatory. I know you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I always do. If the cover is iffy, I read the title next. If I still can’t get a grasp, I open it up and read the first couple pages. That’s how I decide if I want to purchase a book or not, or even if I want to borrow one from the library. So here I am in the little bookshelf of the dollar store sifting through all of the books when I find one that raises my eyebrow. The cover is absolutely hilarious – Telenovela style. The title is even better – The Good Girl’s Guide to Rakes.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t even crack it open to see what it was about. It’s evident to me that it’s a users’ guide aimed at women who may not be familiar with garden shed tools. Sometimes people don’t know the difference between a rake and a hoe and it’s very important to be able to discern the difference. I decided this useful manual was necessary for purchase and plopped it into my cart.

See what I mean? How could I leave this – the only copy left – to sit on the shelf?

The second book didn’t have an impressive artistic cover, but it was hard back, which I always find curious. I always take off the jacket and look at the naked book. It’s red. I put on the jacket and read the synopsis. I read a few pages and decided it wasn’t really speaking to me, but for $1.50, what did I have to lose?

The second book. The most exciting thing about it is the book itself is red. I’ll give it a chance.

As I was rummaging through the rest of the books, I saw it. “Ooh la la!” I said in the aisle, but no one was around to care.

There it was, standing tall amongst the shorter books. The title got me: All Signs Point to Paris. Its dark navy paperback cover with slightly shiny copper type face and its deckled edge pages were not the usual find at the dollar store. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath. Reading the synopsis wasn’t necessary, although I did it. Reading the first few pages wasn’t necessary, although I did it. It’s a memoir, somehow astrology is involved, destiny, Paris and some dude. Well, that’s my kind of book. Plopped it right into the cart and continued on my way.

The design of this book is very well done. Kudos to the designer. The original price was $19.99, and its publishing house is well known.

I returned home and sorted through all of my dollar store finds. That’s always the most fun part – picking each item out of the bag and saying to yourself, “I am so pleased I found a bundle of two rolls of Scotch tape for $1.50. Let them eat cake, I have name brand Scotch tape.”

I put the books aside for later because I wanted to pay extreme attention to every detail. I wanted to sniff them, look at their pages, read the publication details and all that fun stuff that book nerds do.

When I finally sat down with the three books, I saved the best for last. I already know the difference between rakes and hoes, and I’m not too keen on the second book, but I will give it a chance. There is a red book underneath that jacket, so maybe it’s more exciting than I think it will be.

I carefully opened the Paris book, making sure not to bend the cover or wrinkle the first few pages. Book nerds will know this ritual. I got a few pages in and found the most delightful surprise. A night sky with stars. Again, kudos to the designer as well as kudos to the publisher who spent a pretty penny on this book. Sidebar: I am not a fan of ereaders, and this is why. There’s nothing that can replace the tactile feeling of a book in your hand. And when it’s designed well, as this one is, there is absolutely no competition between this and an ereader. None.

Starry, starry night…

I started reading this after my jump rope session yesterday, which by the way is kicking my butt. But I sleep soundly afterwards, as if I’ve been at the beach all day, sleeping in the sun and frolicking in the ocean. Nevermind most of it consists of me trying to skip for more than 30 seconds at a time without crashing and cursing.

I’ve got some stuff to do today, so I will revisit the book later. As most of you know, I often write about Paris here on my blog. The Olympics are getting underway and I’m seeing all of these images of the Eiffel Tower lighting up at night, as well as the recent full moon captured in the Olympic circles on the Eiffel Tower. What perfect timing then, than to read this book?

“Je suis prête.”

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved

blogging · daily prompt · music · Writing

Etc?

What’s your favorite game (card, board, video, etc.)? Why?

My favorite game is the game of WordPress prompt vagary.

The song Wicked Game by Chris Issac is my second choice.

While I’m here, please watch this space for a new undertaking of mine. My last day with the agency is today, and I start my new job in the upcoming days. I have not had time nor inclination to write much, write well, or write at all. While I have not been motivated to write, I have been motivated to enjoy what is happening outside. I have even gotten back on the treadmill, which has for several years been a ghost town.

It’s been a time of tremendous change since March, most of which I didn’t ask for, but that’s life. We move on and we continue to move forward. Sometimes moving forward hangs a quick right, and we recalibrate. I hope you all will continue to give me grace as I navigate The New. Thanks, everyone.

AI art · AI images · animals · art · birds · poetry · Writing

Jerome

This is my entry for Kevin‘s NTT 7/18/24 challenge

You have to say it like Elaine does

On Seinfeld

That’s how he got his name

His other claim to fame

Was dunking stale bagels in the birdbath

He doesn’t like to be told no

So now he follows me wherever I roam

Does Jerome

Outside, feeding the birds and the squirrels

I hear Jerome cawing

Above my head

At the local shopping center

He follows me there

He follows me here

He doesn’t seem to care

He’s my nemesis

And I’m OK with this

We shall never be friends

The grudge is permanent

Jerome has decided

This lady earned it

No sparkly objects will he ever give

To me or anyone that I know who will ever live

He will tell his children, and they will tell theirs

“That lady is mean

Don’t go near her

Don’t you dare

Of course we wouldn’t ever hurt her…

But remember boys and girls

Groups of crows are called murders”

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved

Image ©️ thebeginningatlast

birthday gift · Cancer season zodiac · Short story · thank you · Writing

The Gift

Are you seeking security or adventure?

I sought security. I’ve sought it since March when I learned my whole department was terminated to save the company money. I was shipped off to an agency which lasted two weeks. I was not interested in working on the account to serve my former employer, thank you very much.

I exited that job for another agency. The people were kind, and the pay was decent, but the insurance costs were steep. And I hadn’t had enough time to grieve the loss of my job, which I held for 14 years and I was really good at. I exited the second agency after a month. I did well and left on good terms. In fact, my supervisor offered to be a reference for me or to be a resource, if ever I should need it.

I took about a week to regroup. One morning, my eyes popped open, and the thought was put into my head to log onto a job search site and look at the jobs. Much to my surprise, there was a job similar to the one I’d held for 14 years. I applied for the job from my bed. It took less than 30 minutes. Within a few days, the first interview took place. Within the next few days I performed the skills assessment that was timed and observed. It was the most stressful skills assessment I have ever taken in my life, and that includes my first examination to get certified in my field. I wasn’t sure if I would pass, but I did. I found out the next day that the department was sending over my information to HR, and were looking forward to me joining the team. I was thrilled. A permanent home. A job that would feel like home because it was an environment that I had known before. The difference was in the kindness. This new company has been nothing but kind since the beginning. My former employer? The word kindness is not in the vocabulary.

Speaking of kindness, I agreed to start at another agency prior to knowledge of this job opening, and obviously prior to me gaining the position. This past Monday, I joined that agency, and these people are also extremely kind and have been wonderful. I am being compensated well, but the cost of insurance continues to try to financially sink me. To stay there would mean bankruptcy for me. I do not exaggerate.

Thursday afternoon my phone rang while I was staring at it waiting for HR to call me with the official offer. As soon as I answered the call, I heard a woman giggling. There must’ve been a funny joke prior to her calling me. Between her giggles, she asked for me. I told her she had the right person. She apologized for her giggling. I knew it was the HR hiring manager from the new job. Please understand, no one ever needs to apologize for giggling in my presence. I told her as much. She made me an offer and we had a pleasant conversation. The next steps are in motion and I have a tentative start date. I have to say, from start to finish this has taken a very short amount of time and feels like an absolute gift.

You may think I’m crazy, or you may just not believe it, but I am convinced my mother had a hand in this job acquisition. I can’t explain why the thought to go to the job search site was placed into my head when I didn’t put it there. I can’t explain why the first interview invitation went to my spam folder and the Director called me from her personal cell phone to be sure that I was interested. I can’t explain why it took less than a month to gain employment at a prestigious company that holds some of the most kind people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I also can’t explain the giggling, but if you knew my mother, you would know she would be capable of something like this.

You see, I got the verbal offer on the birthday of one of my brothers – the 11th. He texted: “Happy My Birthday to you,” after I informed him of the news. Every year, my mom and I would meet him for birthday lunch. Often, it was on 12th of July. That’s the day in between our birthdays.

He was joking when he wished me a happy birthday on his day. The truth is, it’s a birthday present for me, it simply happened two days early.

Thanks, Mom. 💫✨💫💛

poetry · Writing

So go

Why don’t you ever stay gone?

Why do you come back to leave again?

This time for real

For far

“Birthday Week”

Was the ruse

Let’s not forget the drive-by in May

Stopped at the stop sign

And waited

Too cowardly to face me

Confident enough to stalk me

Let’s not forget: you emailed the same day

Wishing me a fine summer

Now that the winter is gone

Where were you

When I have been struggling

You intrude once again

Not to wish me a happy birthday

No

Not to tell me you’re sorry

For all of it

But to tell me you’re moving to Italy

Leaving the house you wouldn’t let go of

I bought you that special book

Imported from Italy

Because you wouldn’t go

You wouldn’t go

So go

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com. All rights reserved

animals · birds · Nature · Nature photography · Short story · Summer · Writing

Little Bit

It all started yesterday morning when I was out watering the plants in the front yard. I water the plants every morning because it’s summer and it gets hot. If I don’t water, the hydrangea looks like it’s on its last legs by noon. To be honest, it looks like that throughout the day, and then I have to water it again, but that’s a different story.

I was watering the plants per usual when I saw a tiny bird hopping in the grass toward the sidewalk and ultimately toward the road. As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed some vinyl gloves and hastily put them on as I hoped to reach the bird before she made it into the road. She did get to the road, but I got to her in time and scooped her up. Not sure what to do, I placed the bird – which I believed to be either an American Robin or a Bluejay – under my Eastern Redbud (ERJ, for those who have been here a while and are familiar with him).

Aerial view

I went out to check on the bird midday and couldn’t find her anywhere. It was quite hot and I did a thorough sweep of the front and backyard. Twice. I couldn’t find her. An adult robin flew to the space under the tree where I had put the baby and chirped for about five minutes. I realized this was the baby’s mother, and she could not locate her baby. I tried once again to find the baby bird with no luck.

A few hours passed and I sat down to eat my dinner. I took a couple bites, looked out the window, and saw the baby hopping around near ERJ. I immediately swung into action, not even wiping my mouth nor realizing there was food in my hair. I put on some gloves, and flew out the door (no pun intended). I scooped up Little Bit (her new name) and my first thought was the mother left the baby after not being able to locate her earlier in the day. My second thought was not really a thought, but a perception. I formed a cup with both of my hands around this tiny little breathing warm baby with a tiny little rapid heartbeat and watched her fall asleep. It was in that moment I fell in love with Little Bit and was determined to save her.

Sleepy Little Bit

I was still in my bathrobe and slippers with food in my hair and with a face probably covered in food, when I walked over to a neighbor’s house and asked them to come look in the tree for a nest in another neighbor’s yard. I’m sure these guys thought I was a crazy bird lady and they’re not wrong, but they humored me. After about 10 minutes, they did find the remnants of a nest, but it was not inhabitable. By this time, my neighbor who lived in the house with the land that held the tree with the uninhabitable nest, came out and inquired about this activity. Her cat, who does sneak out and knows how to open doors, was very interested in the bird. (Don’t worry, she wasn’t able to get out.)

The men took their leave, unable to assist, though they did try. I still held Little Bit in both of my hands and she remained asleep. She liked when I pet her head. By this time, the mother robin realized I had the baby and was nearby chirping to it. Unfortunately, the baby was asleep. I wasn’t sure what would happen if if I removed one of my hands, but decided I needed to because I needed to consult Google ASAP. The bird sanctuary was closed and I had no other resources available to me to be able to figure out what to do with this baby bird.

Sweet and Sassy Little Bit

I walked around towards the backyard, hoping the mother would follow. She did, but I still didn’t know what to do. I took my hand away and was able to get into my phone. I Googled, “What do I do with a baby bird?” I found that if the bird can hop, it is a fledgling and it has been nudged out of the nest intentionally. In the fledgling stage, the mother puts the bird in a spot and stays nearby while it learns how to be a big grown-up bird. The problem with Little Bit was she didn’t stay where she was put. And she didn’t answer her mother when her mother called for her midday.

Armed with this information – thanks Google – I proceeded back to the front yard. I kneeled in the grass near ERJ and put my hand against the ground. I opened it up and waited for Little Bit to step out into the grass. The mother had returned and was waiting at the very top of the Weeping Cherry Tree. Little Bit jumped out of my hand and immediately proceeded to poop in the grass. Her mother was chirping to her, and had been for several minutes. Little Bit began chirping back and followed the sound of her mother. I removed my gloves and watched for a few more seconds until the baby bird got under the canopy of the tree and the mother came down to greet her. I went inside and thought how lovely it was to interact with a small creature so helpless and be able to offer her help by keeping her out of the road. I had been terribly depressed yesterday, and the distraction and the joy that bird gave me exponentially lifted my spirits.

I went out later to check on mother and baby, but couldn’t find either one of them. Google told me that the mother will find shelter and stay close by at night until the baby is ready to be on her own. So I no longer was worried about predators eating the baby at night. I assumed she would make it because I didn’t want to think about the alternative. I still don’t. 

I found out later I didn’t need to wear gloves when touching the baby, that it was not true that a bird will abandon a baby if it smells a human scent on the baby. They will not reject it. In my case, though, I am terribly allergic to birds and would have had to wear gloves anyway. I was experiencing a little bit of a wheeze while holding her, but I wasn’t about to let her go until I knew she would be OK.

This morning, I went out to water my plants – the hydrangea was already acting dramatic with limp leaves and sagging blooms and it wasn’t even 10 AM. It’s always high drama with the beautiful hydrangea. It’s the diva of the yard. I didn’t see a baby or a mother. At least not until I got the peanuts out and started dispersing them for the Morning Feeding. There is a robin who lives in the tree next door (the location of the uninhabitable nest), who comes every morning for a lovely peanut breakfast. Robins don’t normally eat peanuts, but this one enjoys them. She has been coming for months. I know it’s Little Bit’s mom.

Google told me that baby robins stay in the same general area as their nest once they’ve grown into adulthood. In fact, when their parents die, they will often take over the same nesting area. It also told me that robins are among the birds that recognize human faces.

I know when I said goodbye to Little Bit like an anxious auntie, that it wasn’t goodbye, it was see you later.

I know you’ll like the peanuts just as much as your mom. See you soon!

Releasing Little Bit
The Reunion

P.S. if you think I didn’t get cursed out in meow language by Susie when I came in the house at 7 PM you are wrong. Susie was extremely upset that I was outside playing with a baby bird and she was stuck in the house. Susie was born in this house and has never been outside, so I don’t know what her beef was, but she definitely was angry. I have never seen her so upset. I wanted to talk to her about it and I did ask, but she refused.

Susie refuses to talk

©️2024, itsamyisaid.com. All Rights Reserved.

animals · art · Flowers · Humor · Nature · Nature photography · Photography · Summer · Writing

Long-Legged Fly

AKA Condylostylus mundus

Isn’t it dreamy?

I don’t know which is worse: the common name or the Latin name.

When I noticed this stunning bug on a wildflower that is growing up through my rosebush, its legs weren’t the first thing I thought about, nor clamored to see. My first thought wasn’t “I need to be able to judge its leg length compared to other flies’ leg lengths!” I had never seen one of these before, and I am not sure that I ever will again. It is not native to my area.

I tried not to scare it away as I reached for my phone. You know how I like to chase things that are cute – or in this case stunningly beautiful – and you know how they run away from me (bunnies, bumblebees, butterflies, I’m looking at you…). I inched closer to this marvelous being, and was able to capture a few shots. Unfortunately, my phone was completely captivated and was unable to focus on the creature very well, and I ended up with only one decent photo.

After the Beauty Queen of the Backyard flew off, I went inside and did some research. Google told me this electrifyingly blue-green insect was called a Long-Legged Fly. First of all, this bug did not have Daddy-Long Leg legs – that would have been pretty obvious, and honestly? Ridiculous. My second complaint was: why are we focusing on legs when we have an entire blue-green iridescent body that is deserving of a better name than one given to a hillbilly at a dive bar in a Holler?

And then there is the Latin, official name: Condylostylus mundus. Really? The only thing I see here is stylus, and maybe that is vaguely appropriate, but we need to alter the word to stylish.

A far better photo, likely by a professional who doesn’t chase down shiny creatures in the backyard

In summary, I have renamed this fly, which, by the way, eats aphids and other pests, and is completely not like the regular fly that we associate with trash and maggots. (Sidebar: I absolutely abhor maggots, and will run for the hills, alternatively screeching and gagging if I see even one of them.) Flies are disgusting. I know they’re necessary, but I also know every time they land they throw up, and I can be down with the delectable bee vomit, but I am not down with fly vomit under any circumstances.

But I digress. Back to the stylish fly. I’ve decided to rename it, and I think that the governing bodies of naming insects should listen to me.

Stylishirridescentbluegreenfly regularlengthlegs

daily prompt · Writing

Breadcrumbs

Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to adolescence? (Prompt altered for context.)

Breadcrumbing signs

A typical breadcrumber might:

  • fail to reply to texts or chats for several days or weeks, then send a few long messages without explaining why they temporarily disappeared
  • mention shared interests or experiences to reinforce a sense of connection 
  • keep you looking to the future with vague statements like, “Let’s pencil that in”
  • imply that they’d love to see you but ignore your requests to make an actual plan
  • keep messages superficial and generic instead of offering concrete details or showing interest in your daily life
  • view or like your social media posts without responding, while still ignoring actual messages you’ve sent
  • communicate primarily with photos, memes, or emoji
  • show interest in hooking up but not spending non-physical time together

Source: https://www.healthline.com/health/relationships/breadcrumbing#takeaway

Bread-crumbing will stop only if you refuse to exist only on small pieces of stale bread. They’re not going to stop dropping breadcrumbs like they’re sloppily making Thanksgiving stuffing, so the onus is on the person who wants the actual meal, not the topping. And if you have a gluten allergy, run for the hills. Everyone else, just run away from the crumbs. Find the whole loaf of bread somewhere else. 

poetry · Writing

Red

I picked my red dress to wear today

Not sure why

It felt like a red day

Found that red heart necklace

Clasped it ‘round my neck

Stood back and smiled

Put a red bracelet on my wrist

Might as well complete the style

Thought twice about that poem

About answering that prompt

Because what if even just a little breath

Is enough to cause its death?

The red of the notification

Finally arrived

I wondered what had happened to time

I clicked on the app

Called Snap

Saw a red heart next to your face

Smiled and thought I’ve moved up a place

But the words that I read

After seeing so much red

Were not words I expected

I sent you a chat

I heard nothing back

I realized then

When I breathed it life

This delicate thing

Would not breathe again

It’s not cool that I said all that

It’s not chill that it’s in my head

It’s dead

Isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

💔

Red, Taylor Swift

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly
Loving him is like trying to change your mind
Once you’re already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all

Losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red
Loving him was red

Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted
Was right there in front of you
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words
To your old favorite song
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword
And realizing there’s no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out
That love could be that strong

Losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red
Oh, red
Burning red

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it’s time now gotta let go
But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head
In burning red
Burning, it was red

Oh, losing him was blue, like I’d never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
‘Cause loving him was red
Yeah, yeah, red
Burning red

And that’s why he’s spinning ’round in my head
Comes back to me, burning red
Yeah, yeah
His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Taylor Swift

Red lyrics © Sony/atv Tree Publishing, Taylor Swift Music