Growing up, I loved to watch super heroes. There were the old “Batman” reruns, “The Justic League” cartoon on Saturday mornings, and “Wonder Woman” starring Lynda Carter. But out of all of these, the only superhero I considered to be totally indestructible was Superman. Why am I telling you this? Because of our dog, Roxy.

Being such a klutz isn’t easy. In fact, it can be very stressful.
It was a Saturday morning and I had just taken out our dog, Roxie. We walked in through the garage to the kitchen door, which I had left cracked open. That way Roxie could nudge it open with her nose; except she didn’t do that this time. I had no idea why, but I was tired of waiting. I leaned forward to shove the door open. When I did that, my foot slipped off of the step and I fell forward.

My little adventure started out because I was bored. Needless to stay, I didn’t stay bored long.
I guess you could say it was a prefect Sunday afternoon. The temperature was pleasant and there was plenty of sunshine. Tim and I were with some friends and family on the banks of Bull Run Creek. He and his sister were fishing while his parents were chilled out in their lawn chairs. As for me, I couldn’t just sit there in a lawn chair and relax. Sitting still isn’t my thing.

Have you ever felt lost in your own home? I did back when I was teenager and it was scary.
Way back in the 1970s, my parents added a larger living room onto our house with a basement underneath it. And in that basement, they put in a woodstove. Let me tell you, it kept the living room nice and warm all winter.

My mother was so excited when she came into my house carrying a small bag. As for me, I soon regretted it.
You see, she had just bought a box set of Christmas movies for Sara. VHS tapes. Yep, this was a few years ago. Anyway, at this time, Sara was a toddler and mom wanted her to enjoy all of the old TV shows we had enjoyed over the years. One of these movies was, “Frosty the Snowman.”

I love looking through catalogs. That probably started with the old Sears catalogs, especially their Christmas Wish books. As a child, I spent many hours sitting in my grandparents’ house as I flipped through its pages full of wondrous goodies.

There are certain days from your childhood that you never forget. For me, it was a Saturday morning when I was five years old. Every ten minutes, I ran to the backdoor and stood on the top step. From there, I could see all the way down to the bridge that spanned Bull Run Creek.
What was I so anxious about? The piano my parents had bought was to be delivered that morning. My mother has always loved music and she knew of its importance, so she made sure we had one. For years, my parents made a payment on it every month.

Some people believe in them. Some don’t. No, I am not talking about aliens or
ghosts. I am referring to coincidences. Or as we say here in East Tennessee: “It just so happened.” Recently, we experienced quite a few of them in one afternoon.

While growing up, my mom and Mamaw Girdle/Myrtle would often tell me, “You can’t see diddly squat!” Mamaw Jo was different in that she would say, “I swannie! If it was a snake, it would’ve bitten you!”

Most kids were afraid of the imaginary monster under the bed. Not me. I was terrified of dogs. That may come as a surprise to some of you since you know how much I love dogs. Like many fears, it started with a childhood experience.

The term “hair pony” has a special place in my heart. Ever heard of it? Chances are you have them in your home.
A hair pony is any kind of hair accessory. My daughter Sara came up with that phrase when she was a little girl. She confused the term pony tail with the band that held her hair in the pony tail. She absolutely loved having her hair fixed. Me, not so much.

Most fishy tales are probably tall tales about the one that got away. Mine are just the opposite in that I have never had any luck with fish in any capacity.
For instance, the last time I went fishing, I fell into Bull Creek. That wonderful experience is in my story, “In the Creek.”
My woeful fish tales started at a very young age. You see, my mother always had a fish tank.

I absolutely love colors. That’s why I paint so often.
Let me clarify that: I only paint walls.
If you have read any of my previous articles, you know I don’t have any artistic abilities — at all. I even struggle to do a paint by number correctly.

Have you ever heard the excuse, “The dog ate my homework?” Or instead, maybe I should ask if you’ve had the chance to actually use it?
Let me tell you, my Mamaw Jo was quite the baker. She even took a course in cake decorating. Naturally, she did very well. I enjoyed watching her craft roses out of icing since I had always wondered how that was done. If I ever tried to make one, it would have resembled a melted beehive.