I Put A Spell On You

You might say Samantha was the poster child for empty-nest syndrome. She and her husband Darren had raised three lovely children all of whom had left home over the last several years. Darren still worked so Samantha was left alone in the house all day a prisoner really of her own imagination.

She tried to keep active. Since there were just the two of them there wasn't much need for housework. She kept things tidy but it didn't require much effort or time. So she filled her days with volunteering and yoga several times a week. And she was always home in time to prepare a nice dinner for Darren.

One day, as she was surfing the net between yoga classes and work at the animal shelter she came across an ad for a pastime she thought might be interesting. Cooking classes. All that was required on her part, oddly enough, was a dark cloak and a pointy hat. That didn't seem like much for all the friendship and learning that was promised in the ad. Although she was sort of mystified by her new friends' preoccupation with the phrase "double, double, toil and trouble" as they prepared their meals, how they liked to call each other "my pretty" and that the cooking instructor kept flying monkeys as pets.

Nevertheless after several weeks Samantha was quite enthralled by how she had mastered her new pastime. And proficient. She could hardly wait to show Darren what she had learned.

For the first time ever she donned her cloak and hat at home that night and waved her broom as she prepared dinner. Without her physically holding anything the ingredients for supper magically lifted off the counter and mixed themselves in bowls then jumped in the air to pots and pans on the stove.

About midway through this magical effort of flying food Darren arrived home, entered the kitchen and screamed "Sam, what on earth is going on?" To which Sam replied "I'm just putting into practice what I learned at bewitch class."

"Be witch?" said Darren. I was happy with be wife.

The folks at Two Word Tuesday provided the prompt of bewitch/enthrall this week. No wiggling of the nose was involved in this week's post.

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

I Am Charlie, I'm A Bore

Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Mel Gibson, Tom Cruise, Colin Farrel...you know the list, it goes on and on. The list of Hollywood hick-ups who not content to meltdown behind closed doors have to drag each and every detail out into the light of day and share it with all of us. Well, add Charlie Sheen to that luckless and lascivious list of losers. In the past few days he's been on every major media soapbox complaining abut how he's been treated and how he's misunderstood. Last night he spent an hour on ABC's 20/20 "in his own words". Charlie, you should have stuck to the script. "I have a highly evolved brain". You know I never did like that song by Helen Reddy in the 70s "I Am Woman". But I have to say the melody really leant itself well to a parody of Hollywood's latest flame-out, Charlie Sheen. Although I never thought I'd hear myself say this, my sincerest apologies to Helen Reddy. And now if you're ready (a little play on wor...

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