Monday, June 29, 2020

I NEVER GAVE UP ON YOU

Dear Eight-Track Tapes And Console . . . and Maxwell,

My darlings, for years I've longed to play you again. What some people might think was annoying about you––the tape can fall apart, you might break up a song into two parts––never bothered me. You were part of my high school days, when I sat on my bed and played Cat Stevens' love songs over and over.


But I couldn't listen to you. No, not even you, Fleetwood Mac. I bade farewell to my eight-track tape player years ago. But, you my tapes, I refused to let you go. I was sure you would play again.


And now you are. When Favorite Young Man discovered this console at the Salvation Army Thrift Store, I jumped at the chance to add you to my bedroom because you . . .


have an eight-track tape player, seen here with the radio. And you work.


To put the icing on the cake, you have a turntable. Oh, how I adore you.


You appeared to have never been used. You came to me in perfect condition, complete with the paperwork that shows you were delivered to a man named Ronald in 1972.

And now you are mine, all mine.

According to your instruction book, the space at the top could be used for a small TV, which Ronald must not have ordered.

It's okay, Ronald. I don't mind. The rest of the console brings me such joy. Shall we listen to America next? Sister Golden Hair Surprise?


One more pleasant part of our happy home is Carol, so pretty in pink.



Infinities of love to you, Eight-Track Player and Console. I promise we'll never be parted again.

Janie Junebug


America, will you please sing us out? I've seen you in concert five times, so I think you owe me.


Monday, June 22, 2020

WHEN TRUMP WENT TO TULSA

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

My back is better. I'm off the muscle relaxers but still using the heating pad.

I admit I enjoyed the empty seats in Tulsa on Saturday night.


His Trumpness bragged that tickets went to one million people--an absurdity since the venue couldn't hold nearly that many people.  According to forbes.com, about 62,000 people were there. Or maybe it was 6,200. Or 620. I didn't see any masks or social distancing efforts in spite of the empty seats. I will take no pleasure in the number of people who test positive for the virus.

When all the lying was done, Trump looked deflated. I think someone stuck a big pin in his belly and let some of the air out.


I like that look on him.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

ARRRRRRGH MY BACK!

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to check on your Lake Junebug reservations. The day that the post appeared about the glories of a Junebug vacation, I bent over to pick up Lappie, and WHAP! PAIN! Terrible pain in my lower back. Carol! Help! ARRRRRRRGH!

Carol came running to smack me in the head hard enough that I wouldn't notice how much my back hurt.

It didn't help.

My doctor said it's a pulled muscle. I'm on muscle relaxers, but I'm not quite as relaxed as I would like to be. It gets better every day, though.

Be patient with me and I'll get my castle on Lake Junebug ready for visitors.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Look at this doggy who wants to show off his teddy bear:



Tuesday, June 9, 2020

ACCEPTING RESERVATIONS NOW

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Thanks to a few days of heavy rain, I invite you to make your reservations at

The Lake Junebug Resort & Rumpus Room

The lake has the most water it's held in quite some time, but it's strictly BYOC (bring your own canoe).


You'll enjoy the view from the deck:

Don't you just love the way the sun sparkles on the water?

The gas grill has totally rusted through, but if you want a gourmet burger, I can slap it on the George Foreman.

The water runs all the way up the driveway to the garage, so for the little ones who aren't yet swimmers, they have plenty of splashing room.


Don't worry about COVID-19. You're more likely to get diphtheria here . . . hahaha  ha.

The Rumpus Room is a brand-spanking-new added attraction. It's under the house and can be added to your vacation package for only a few hundred dollars. It's a great place to play "Let's throw darts at the rats."

For those of you who are crafters, take a look at this deck:


Think of all the fun you can have repairing  decorating and staining it. For a small fee, you can take a rotten commemorative board home with you.

Who doesn't want to visit the land of the Junebug? Franklin will allow you to pet him; Penelope will curse at you; Carol will preach a great sermon on Sunday mornings; and as always, mispronounce one of my favorite words and I'll edumacate you to within an inch of your life.

Call soon or leave your comment letting me know when you'll arrive and how many of you I can expect.

I think we're gonna have a full house.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Friday, June 5, 2020

MY BACK HURTS AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID WRONG

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I know I haven't been around. I ain't got nuttin' to say. Franklin isn't in the mood to write a post. I can't trust Penelope. She's a little too eager to get involved in blogging again, which is not a good sign because that girl has developed a filthy mouth of late.

I think she learned those words from Grandma.

That's a joke because I've only heard an inkling of profanity come out of her mouth once. It was several years ago. She was upset and she said "damn."

I know, I know, shocking beyond belief.

My back hurts because Penelope's 20-pound bag of dog food arrived. I had to carry it to the laundry room to put it in the dog food container. Now my back is crying, but fortunately it's not crying real tears because that would get my jammies wet and I have on my favorite summer Snoopy jammies.

I received an email from Google about not being allowed to have ads anymore because I violated adsense policy. I have no idea what I did wrong. I haven't put any ads on my blog. Have any of you noticed anything offensive about me other than the stinky gas I have from time to time?

I deleted the email. We'll see if it dares to rear its ugly head again.

Oh, I almost forgot. A lizard is living in my closet. He's too fast to grab, not that I want to touch his ugly little self anyway. I open the closet door to get a pair of shoes and he's skittering around on some papers, making faces at me and shouting, NANNY NANNY POO POO YOU CAN'T GET ME.

I made an agreement with the lizards when I moved in. They're not supposed to come in the house. This is a fight to the death.

I'm also out to get the green gecko on the Geico insurance commercials. I can tell he looks down on us ordinary people with his English accent and his fancy ways.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Grammar, you are sacred.
I will not allow the world to ignore you.
Get up out of that coffin now!!!!