Author: Nikki In a Nutshell

There is, for a certainty, a good degree of mental illness involved with someone who is mad at you for something they have done to you. MAD AT YOU BECAUSE OF SOMETHING FOUL THEY’VE DONE TO YOU. Where they do that at???????

When I was itty bitty I witnessed my Daddy leave the house on many cold dark mornings to go to work for Missouri Pacific Railroad. The house would smell like whatever my great grand mother would prepare for his breakfast and lunch. All bundled up and with his things the wood stairs would quickly creak with every step he took toward the front door. I loved that sound. I still love the sound and feel of wood beneath my feet. “Be particular” Mama would say to Daddy as he was just about out the door. He’d answer in the affirmative, a word or two, then the door would shut. Most mornings I was not awake for this display of love and duty yet I remember so much about it when I was. Afterward I was back in bed on those early cold winter mornings … memories.

… to get what you want outta me … & then, they ain’t the boss of me either. So, there.

Sometimes a good idea should remain an idea.

… it is too ‘peopley’ for me.

My big cousin Nick returned my phone call today! It was so good to hear his voice again. I recall being quite fond of him since before I started school. Him & his brother, MY OTHER BIG COUSIN! They’d come from Chicago in our uncles RV with guitar in tow! He still plays, of course💕

NO. Forgive, but remember … for the likely event you try that $#¡? again …

Every weekend my grip was packed to spend the weekend with grandmother great grandmother and daddy. Often times there were pallets sprawled out for my naps. Always food and hydration, and bathtimes with the smell of the famous floating ivory soap! Then there was the fan blowing, which has come to be one of my favorite sounds, especially when I’d feed my voice into it 💕 … the television turned down low… not a care in the world … remembering the sights and sounds of the goings on in the home, from the undertones of my loved ones precious voices, teaching me life, to the phone ringing until someone answered it! I loved weekends with the first of my friends.

Ears are ringing.

Surnames and entire families. Yes, they do that. And must have your friends, very few escape their envious clutches. Albeit.