Escapee Cricket

I spied an escapee cricket in the PetSmart store today,
hopping down the aisle past dog toys and making a left
at dog food.
I wanted to cup him in my hands and take him outside,
but I realized that would be shop-lifting.
So I let him hop on and wished him well.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

The Christmas Tree’s Final Decoration

Like last year, this year I did not want to kill any trees. I just don’t have it in me anymore. So, like last year, Scott cut off an extra trunk growing on our redwood in the back field. Scott said we were actually saving the redwood by cutting off the extra trunk because if a wind came it would split that baby right down to the nubs. This tree has character. Or maybe… this tree IS a character… It fits right in with the family.

Hold on… I think I’ll go put some Groucho glasses on it…

A Christmas Story in Homonymese

Two my deer English teacher friends (and those who speak Homonymese) –
Eye thought it mite bee nice two give ewe sum thing too play with two-day. Sew eye give ewe a Christmas story:

Once upon a thyme inn a land far, far away, their lived a young girl named Surely. Surely was a suite child and was all weighs looking four opportunities too give two those around her.

Won mourning, as Surely walked down the rode into the town of Bethlehem, she past the in they’re and heard a we baby crying inn the manger. Surely all weighs carried her drum set with her (because who doesn’t, write?) and – bee-ing the suite child she was decided two play her drums for the knew baby boy.

She maid quite a racquet, let me tell ewe. Pretty soon people were paying her too stop. She gave the money too the baby’s parents, Merry and Joseph. Because she was thoughtful like that.

The End.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Snow in Bow

Only Five More Days

My dear Humoristian hooligans –

Only five more days. Whatever befalls, know that your humor and wit, courage and honesty, compassion and kindness, have mattered. You have made a difference in our world. None of the good you’ve done has been wasted. I am so grateful to know you – each and every radiant, rascally, raspberry-blowing rapscallion one of you.

The world needs you. May those weary wanderers athirst for a kind word in a desert of rudeness find comfort in your good-natured cheer. May the ascared and lonely find hope in the smiling eyes above your masks. May you bring laughter to those in desperate need of a healthy guffaw. May the the bigots, bullies, braggarts, and busybodies be transformed by your irrepressible, irresistible joy and good will.

Polish your kazoos, bring out the whoopee cushions, don your Groucho glasses and your Lucy wigs – avail yourselves of every tool in your Humoristian bag of tricks – and go out there and work your magic!
Karen “Wingoof-Wingoov” Molenaar Terrell

“You can’t scare her. She survived 2020.”

My dear Humoristian hooligans –

2020 has been a crazy ride, hasn’t it? Dad died on January 19th and two days later the first case of COVID was reported in our state (and the country). Dad had good timing. 2020 has brought COVID-19, murder hornets, wildfires, hurricanes, tornadoes, plagues, pestilence, political insanity, and every emotion a person can possibly feel – grief, terror, anger, fear, and also immense love, gratitude, and, (especially lately) hope. And, sitting here, I just realized I’m not “ascared” anymore. At some point – maybe when the craziness reached epic and absurd proportions – the fear just dissolved. It was like – okay, what else you got? Bring it on, baby! I think it’s going to be hard to ever again scare anyone who’s survived 2020. (I just had a flashback of one of my favorite cartoons – a lady with a bun on top of her head, whistling in hell – and one of the devil’s helpers saying to him: “We can’t scare her. She was a middle school teacher.” As a former middle school teacher that one always cracked me up. I think that same cartoon could have the caption: “You can’t scare her. She survived 2020” and it would still work. 🙂

Keep working your magic, my friends! Keep shining your light! The world has need of your pluck and courage and unfailing kindness!
– Karen

A Stickshift. A Standard. A Manual.

Feeling mighty. I am woman.
Hear me roar.
Took the car in for an oil change –
the nice cashier brought up
a list of things to pour
into my auto. I listened
and then asked, “But my car
is a standard. Why would it need
automatic transmission fluid?”
And he nodded his head –
Yes, a standard.
“A stickshift,” I said,
wanting to be clear. And he stopped
short then. Peeked in my window –
Ohhhhh. A manual. And I got it –
who could have guessed
that a gray-haired Karen drove
one of those?! A standard doesn’t fit
the demographic
and isn’t it fantastic
that my father taught me to drive
on that old VW van?
The nice young cashier clicked
a button and my bill magically
became forty dollars less than
it had been.
I am woman. Hear me roar.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Derring Do and Adventure in the Land of Social Distancing

So I’ve been pretty much wearing black for the last five months. Although I’d like to say that I’ve been doing this in protest or something – it’s really just because I’ve not had any interest in my clothes. I have, like, five black tops and I just rotate them over my black shorts or my black jeans and I don’t spend much time thinking about it. But today it occurred to me that maybe that’s affecting my psyche. Maybe I should make some effort. So I put on a purple top; Put on my new capri blue jeans; I EVEN went so far as to put on a pair of dangly earrings – and my smiley mask, of course. And then I got myself in the car and drove to Sisters Espresso and showed off myself to Brooke. “See? See?” I mumbled through my mask, “I’m not wearing black today?! And see – I’ve got new capri pants! And I’m even wearing earrings!!!” Brooke (I so love her! ) gave me the exactly right feedback and encouragement I needed for making an effort.

I ordered a lavender green iced tea for myself, and then I looked across the espresso shop to the drive-thru window and yelled across to the bearded man, waiting patiently in his truck: “I’m buying you your drink today!” He smiled. “Sir, are you expensive?” I asked. He nodded his head yes and grinned. (His order wasn’t expensive at all.) “I’m also taking your punch on my punch card,” I informed him, pointing to my Sisters punch card, and he laughed.

And so ends another tale of derring do and adventure in the land of social distancing.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

 

Fricasee Fracas Flummoxed

fricassee fracas flibbertigibbet flummoxed
prestidigitation preposterous obsequious
bovine blunderbuss balderdash brouhaha
cacophony kiester kerfuffle
discombobulated debacle
ubiquitous shenanigans hooligans
twitter-pated rutabaga gesundheit doh
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

I just felt it needed to be said.