Sunday, December 23, 2018


Hi! Hi! Hi! Merry Kissmas, Every Buddy. Merry Kissmas. Can you hear me? I barked

Merry Kissmas!

Me and Penlapee will write to you soon to show you our Kissmas presents after Santa Paws delivers them.

Remember last year when Penlapee got this jacket and was worried it made her butt look big?

I had to tell her about a million times that her butt didn't look big. She worries too much.

See ya soon, and

Merry Kissmas!

Okay I love you bye-bye.

Friday, November 16, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Can you believe it's been a little more than three years since Penelope came to live with us? Franklin and I want to commemorate her arrival by rerunning the post that he wrote about her, which first appeared on October 2, 2015.

We love you, Penelope.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Hi! Hi, Every Buddy! Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi hihihihiihhihiihihihihihhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! I'm so excited I can't stop hi-ing.

It's me, it's me, it's me, Franklin the Bordernese, whose mom always needs to peepee.

Mom went to a far away place not too long ago. It's called Georgia. She was gone for about a year. She claims it was only part of a day.

Mom went to a place called Claxton. I Googled it after she left. I figured she went to get a world famous Georgia fruitcake.

Anyway, you won't believe what she brought home with her. It's sooooo much better than a fruitcake.

You know I been missing my buddy Harper since he went to heaven. Harper can't ever be replaced, but we can have new family members.


Mom saw this picture

online at a place for rescued dogs. Mom didn't tell me what might happen in case it didn't work out. She didn't want me to be disappointed.

She thought this doggy looked perfect to be my sister. She named my sister Penla-la-peee. Oh. Mom says her name is spelled like this: Penelope. She already knows that's her name.

I remember when I came here to live. I found out I was moving into a castle with a Queen. A big man with pictures painted all over his skin carried me to the backyard. I thought he was the servant, and he kinda is, but he's really my human brother.

When Penelope got here, she was scared. She didn't wanna get out of the car. She finally got out and ran into the backyard. She was safe because we have a good fence. But she wouldn't come inside. She wouldn't let Mom get close to her. She didn't know she was moving into a castle and that our mom is the Queen.

Mom had to call my human brother for help. It was raining hard, and it was getting dark. Painted Brother was patient with Penelope. He followed her around the yard and talked to her and showed her a dog biscuit.

Penelope went under Mom's car in the garage. At least she was out of the rain, but she couldn't stay there all night. My big brother is the bravest, strongest big brother in the whole world. He's better than a fruitcake from Georgia, too. He got down on the floor of the garage and slid under the car. He helped Penelope get out from under the car. Then he carried her into the house.

He and Mom dried her with towels and made her warm and cozy. Brother cuddled her for a long time.

That's when I met her. I did everything I could to help, and I'm still helping her learn how to live in the castle. Mom says one really good thing about Penelope is that when she needs to go potty she always goes outside. She never goes in the house. I typed this part small because it's about personal stuff.

Penelope learns every single day. I showed her how to sit just perfict like the dog of a Queen should.

See! See! See!
This is my perfict royal dog sit.
I will teach this to Penelope.

I've written a lot now, so I will try to tell you more about Penelope next week.

Mom hasn't gotten many good pitchers of Penelope yet because she wiggles a lot. She doesn't know the perfict royal dog sit, but I just know she can learn it. I'll try to find at least one good pitcher of Penelope at our castle.

Here's my sister.
That big furry thing is my tail and one white paw.
Penelope isn't as furry as I am. She's soft and sleek.
She likes to kiss me.
She kisses Mom, too.
Sometimes we both kiss Mom at the same time.

It makes Mom happy.

I'm tired now. I been working so hard to take care of Penelope.

Okay I love you bye-bye.

Franklin the Bordernese

Monday, November 12, 2018


Dear Hearts,

It's not Veteran's Day. It's not Veterans' Day.

It's Veterans Day.

I know because I used to write it incorrectly and I've seen it with an apostrophe a number of times yesterday and today.

Now I imagine a few of you scurrying away to make corrections.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

wrong, wrong, wrong

Tuesday, November 6, 2018


Gentle Readers (especially U.S. citizens) . . . and Maxwell,

Have you voted yet? If not, today is the big day. This election is crucial. I urge you to vote for candidates who want to look out for our best interests.

I don't want a Democratic majority in Congress because I hope to see Donald Trump impeached. If that happened and he were convicted, then we'd have President Mike Pence. I don't see that as an improvement.

I do want a Democratic majority in Congress because I hope they can impose some sanity in Washington. Democrats can help to balance out the fake power in The White House. I see that as an improvement.

I voted Sunday evening. The line at the polling place was longer than I'd ever seen it before.

At least I got a chuckle out of the people around me. I said, I'm glad so many people are here––as long as they vote the same way I do.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Wednesday, October 31, 2018


Tonight I was reminded what Pittsburgher Mr Rogers said in times like today: look for the helpers.
And tonight I want to instead say I'm looking for the Americans. The patriots who don't suffer anti-Semites. Ever. The Americans who don't think any Nazis are good people. The strong who don't hesitate saying the kind of filth who did this don't deserve to be in our midst. The believers in this nation who fought, and won at great price, a war against the frightened, narrow-minded cowards who live in the shadows until they feel emboldened to strike out.
I'm looking for the Americans.

(quotation from Dr. Karl, the foremost philosopher of the twenty-first century, written after the killings at the synagogue)

Tuesday, October 30, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

During our previous TIP TUESDAY post, a couple of questions came up, so they must be answered.

Lovely Inger of Desert Canyon Living asked about the difference between complex and complicated.

My Roget's Super Thesaurus tells me that complicated and complex are synonyms for each other.

Both are adjectives and mean something intricate, so I think it's safe to say that they can be used interchangeably, based on the one you prefer at a given moment or the one that might sound a bit better.

Darling Martha of Plowing Through Life wanted to know when to use awhile or a while. This one irritates me––not because you asked, Martha, but because I see awhile all the time when it should be a while.

These two terms represent different parts of speech. The two-word expression a while is a noun phrase, consisting of the article a and the noun while (which means “a period or interval of time”).
The one-word awhile is an adverb that means “for a short time or period.” Although these definitions are similar (and although the terms can sometimes be used interchangeably), there are a few simple rules that are helpful in keeping them straight. (source:

Awhile is an adverb meaning for a while, and it only works where it would bear replacement with that three-word phrase. Where for a while wouldn’t work in its place, it is probably not an adverb, so it should be two words: a while. (source:

I think the information is more helpful, because for heaven's sake, what's the difference between "a period of time" and "for a short time."
My personal way of solving this problem is to use "a while" because it's what I prefer. I know, I know, normally it's the kind of thing I'd be all fussy about and say "if 'for a while' won't work then it should be a while." But as says, they can sometimes be used interchangeably.
I vote for using "a while." I think it looks better and makes more sense than awhile. Besides, I've also seen explanations of the two that say "a while" is correct and awhile shouldn't be used anymore because it's outdated. 
Can we all agree to use a while, or do some of you want to argue about it (in which case I will ignore you)?
See you in a while.

Infinities of love,
Janie Junebug

Monday, October 29, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I haven't written a poem in a long time. I came up with this one following a conversation with a co-worker. Please keep in mind that the "I" in a poem is not necessarily the poet. It is a poetic persona. I assure you I do not cheat at work. I don't even know how I would cheat at work.

Please do not use my work to introduce your children to poetry. They will have all sorts of questions that you won't want to answer.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I'm The Kinda Girl

I'm the kinda girl who 
                                   tells men to leave money on the bureau on their way out the door.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   cheats at work.
I'm the kinda girl who 
                                   can't remember her ex-husband's name.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   tells her friends she's busy when she just doesn't wanna go out.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   reads Chaucer in Middle English.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   sucks your dick because I want to.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   shits on your behind your back.
I'm the kinda girl who
                                   gets called a bitch a cunt a whore because I am a bitch a cunt a whore.
I'm the kinda girl
                           yeah I'm the kinda girl
                                                               yeah I'm the kinda girl who
                                                                                                           does what she wants when she                                                                                                                   wants.
I'm the kinda girl 
                            yeah I'm the kinda girl
                                                                 yeah I'm the kinda girl

so fuck you.

Friday, October 26, 2018


Hi! Hi hi hi hi! I first told this story about Mom back on Oct. 6, 2017. Doesn't that seem like a long time ago? Mom had me write it because she wanted me to make you laugh and cheer you up. I hope you laugh now.

HI! Hi! Hi! Hi hi hihihihihihihi Every Buddy! It's me. It's me. It's mememememememememe. It's Franklin the Bordernese and here in Florida we never freeze!

Mom says that lots of sad things have been happening in the world so it's a good idea for me to take over today. She thinks I'll cheer you up. She also says that next week she'll continue the story about how she was pissed.


She says it's phished, but that doesn't make sense to me because that's not a word but I know Mom is pissed a lot. We love her even though she's grumpy and always saying Chicago prefers, Chicago prefers. Who cares what Chicago prefers? I don't.

So anydog, this funny thing happened in the backyard. It was a super duper hot day. Penlapee was wandering around, sniffing every blade of grass before she could decide which one she wanted to pee on. Penlapee is like that.

I was getting hotter and hotter waiting for Penlapee and I noticed that there was a shady spot underneath Mom's nightgown. She hadn't gotten dressed yet because she says people who work at home get to work in their jammies, but I never see Mom do much of any work.

Because of the shady spot, I stuck my head under Mom's nightie. And you won't believe what I saw there. You really will not believe it. MOM WAS NOT WEARING UNNERWARE!

It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. snicker snort NO UNNERWARE! snicker snort Mom looks so funny under her nightie without her pink granny panties! I would describe everything to you but I'm snicker snorting so hard from remembering it that I don't think I can explain it. You have to take my word for it that Mom looks hilarious without unnerware. snicker snort

The man next door was out in his yard. He's nice and he likes me a lot. I thought he could use a good laugh so I took my head out from under the nightie and I barked to get his attention. I tried to say Hey! Come over here and look under Mom's nightie. She's got no unnerware, but I was snicker snorting so much that I couldn't tell him what there was to see. He said, Hi, Franklin, and he went in his garage. Boy, he missed his chance for a snicker snort. snicker snort

I'm so tired from telling this story and snicker snorting so much that I need a nap.

Before I fall asleep, would you like a kiss? Put your face down close to the box with the light in it, and I have my face up close. I'll give you all the kisses you need. I love to kiss, but I'm not kissing Mom under her nightie with no unnerware. Nope. I draw the line there. But you can have a big kiss on your cheek or smack dab on your mouth. Ask me for a kiss anytime. My kisses make every buddy feel better.

Okay. I love you. Bye-bye.

Wednesday, October 24, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Last night I watched as Meredith Viera announced the winner in The Great American Read.

Various people read the countdown of the books, while Viera spotlighted the top five books without revealing which one would win. One of the five books was

and it struck me that this book would be the winner.

It was. I'm happy with that choice. This book is so moving. Viera said it was in first place from the beginning and stayed there throughout the five months of voting.

I only wish that Harper Lee and her older sister Alice were here to enjoy this triumph.

My beloved The Great Gatsby was #15. Not bad at all.

I had read everything in the top 20 except the book in second place: Outlander.

Visit this page to see how the voting turned out.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Wednesday, October 17, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Voting for your favorites in The Great American Read ends at midnight Pacific Time on Thursday, October 18. Visit HERE to cast your final votes. Remember, you can vote once a day for each book, and sign in using your email address, Facebook, or Twitter.

PBS will announce the winner on October 23.

They've also been running a series of shows to highlight the nominated books. The shows should be available on your local PBS station and I believe you can catch them at this link:

When the voting began in May, I had read 43 of the 100 nominated books. I decided to make 50 books my goal by the time the voting ended. I'm not going to make it, but I'm not upset about it. It was a self-imposed deadline; I still have time to read.

I've voted consistently for my all-time favorite novel

The 44th book I read was

It's great.

The 45th book was 

Love it!

I'm reading two more books at the same time--but I'm also reading three or four other books, too. Can't limit myself when it comes to books.

The books from the list are 

I don't like it as much as The Cider House Rules and
Last Night In Twisted River, but it's still good.


So far I don't like it as much as I thought I would.

I also want to read A Confederacy of Dunces, Heart of Darkness, and The Call of the Wild.

I know this is a long post so feel free to stop reading now. I'm going to add a list of the other books that I've read and what I think of them. 

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

1984 -- read it years ago in school and found it creepily memorable.

A Separate Peace -- a very moving coming of age story.

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn -- a book I have long adored. It's sad and funny and everything that a book should be.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer -- a good book but not a favorite of mine.

And Then There Were None -- memorable because it's frightening but I haven't read it in years.

Anne of Green Gables -- Oh, Anne! I love you so much. We must be kindred spirits.

Atlas Shrugged -- It's been so long since I read it that I barely remember it.

Beloved -- Sooo good.

The Book Thief -- Good but I didn't think it was great.

Catch-22 -- Hilarious and clever.

The Catcher In The Rye -- I don't remember liking this one very much. I preferred some of Salinger's short stories.

Charlotte's Web -- SOME PIG

The Chronicles of Narnia -- I love every single book in the series and I often give these books to young people.

The Color Purple -- So very good and moving.

The DaVinci Code --  Hated it.

Don Quixote -- Read it in high school and I think again in college and didn't like it either time, but I do like the word "quixotic."

Flowers in the Attic -- Weird.

Frankenstein -- Hated it. Absolutely hated it. Maybe I would have liked it better if I'd read it for a class that had a good professor.

The Giver --  Great.

The Godfather -- Smutty, but when I was a teenager I couldn't put it down.

Gone With the Wind -- I appreciate the sadness of this book more than I did when I first read it years ago.

The Grapes of Wrath -- So beautiful.

Great Expectations -- Has one of the best first chapters in a book ever, but overall, don't love it.

Gulliver's Travels -- Read it in high school. Booo-ring.

The Handmaid's Tale -- Margaret Atwood has a rare talent.

Harry Potter (series) -- Love every book and still want my letter admitting me to Hogwarts.

Hatchet (series) -- I'm counting this even though I haven't read every book in the series. The ones I read were good.

Invisible Man -- Very good.

Jane Eyre -- Oh, Jane, how you do suffer. I  long to wander Yorkshire with your creator.

Little Women -- This is a rare case of me liking the movies better than the book. I think the book is long and boring.

Memoirs of a Geisha -- So good.

Moby Dick -- I have a strange fondness for Herman Melville.

One Hundred Years of Solitude -- Excellent.

The Picture of Dorian Gray -- Wonderfully creepy.

Pride and Prejudice -- Although The Great Gatsby is my all-time favorite novel, Jane Austen is my all-time favorite novelist.

Rebecca -- Mrs. Danvers frightens me every time I read this book or see the movie.

The Sun Also Rises -- I'm not fond of Hemingway.

Tales of the City -- I didn't like it, but I have a feeling I didn't really get it.

The Help -- It's an enjoyable book, but as usual, the white person who wants to write is the most important character who makes it possible for the help to have some success, which they have to keep secret. It's called the help, dammit. The help should be the most important characters.

The Joy Luck Club -- Love Amy Tan.

The Lord of the Rings (series) -- Not that crazy about it.

The Lovely Bones -- Beautifully tragic.

The Outsiders -- Barely remember it.

Their Eyes Were Watching God -- The heroine is named Janie and her nickname is Alphabet.

To Kill A Mockingbird -- Who doesn't love it?

Wuthering Heights -- I'm glad we have two Bronte sisters represented.

I'm disappointed that nothing by Laura Ingalls Wilder is on the list. I would add These Happy Golden Years and/or The Long Winter.

Well, either I counted wrong before or I'm counting wrong now, but including the books I've read most recently, I get 49.

Wednesday, October 10, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Although the air is so heavy with humidity that it's almost unbearable to be outside, we've had very little rain.

I don't want you to worry that Hurricane Michael will visit us. Although we're supposed to have heavy rain and high winds between midnight and 6 a.m. and no doubt will have plenty of branches to clean up afterwards, we will not get a direct hit. Michael will soon be on his way to Georgia and Alabama, where he'll be much rougher.

We had a tornado warning earlier today, but I have no idea where the tornado was supposed to be.

When it rains later tonight, Franklin will hide in my bedroom closet and Penelope will tremble next to me in the bed. The three of us will comfort each other.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

NPR photo from Panama City Beach, Florida
A photographer tries to retrieve his equipment.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Does it matter if you don't know the difference between a metaphor and a simile? Maybe not, unless knowing guarantees an "A" on a test or keeps you from feeling embarrassed during a conversation about literature.

Anyword, we haven't had a TIP TUESDAY in ages, so we'll go over some literary terms today:

  • Allusion--words that make a brief reference to something in history or literature. An allusion adds meaning to your reading if you know the reference. 
  • Anachronism--something placed in a time period when it doesn't yet exist.
  • Anagram--a word made out of the letters of another word. My favorite anagram is God and dog.
  • Anecdote--a little story or description of an incident that usually has some connection to the truth and might briefly describe something such as meeting a person who made a difference in one's life. I have heard anecdote pronounced as "antidote" a number of times and it bugs the heck out of me.
  • Apocalyptic--literature that predicts the future of the world (usually its ending).
  • Apology--its older meaning is defense but it doesn't have to be an expression of regret.
  • Aside--an actor on the stage addresses the audience but is not heard by the other actors. In a movie or TV show, it might be called "breaking the fourth wall" (an actor looks into the camera and speaks as if saying something directly to viewers).
  • The Great Awakening--usually associated with Jonathan Edwards, it's a period of very emotional religion in America that was at its most prominent around 1740-1745,
Now, it's your turn: can you provide an example for any of these terms?

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Source: A Handbook to Literature by C. Hugh Holman and William Harmon.

Thursday, September 27, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I know someone who is an alcoholic: a big-time alcoholic (it is not Willy Dunne Wooters).

I asked this person: Will you see a doctor? No.

I asked, Will you see a therapist? No.

I asked, Will you go to Alcoholics Anonymous? No.

I asked, Will you go to some other kind of rehab? No.

Because I believe the reason for the drinking lies in depression, I asked, Will you take an antidepressant? No.

Even if the person had agreed to take any of these steps, none of them would provide simple answers. You can't get a regular treatment that stops alcoholism. You can't have a surgery that stops alcoholism. You can't get a vaccination in the arm, a shot in the butt, a lecture from a doctor, a prescription filled at the pharmacy . . . .

The truth is that even if an alcoholic goes to rehab and sees a therapist and goes to AA, the only true treatment for alcoholism is willpower. I do know of the existence of a pill that people can take that will cause them to become violently ill if they partake of liquor, but what if the person doesn't want to take the pill? And if he does want to take the pill, then is he going to take it everyday for the rest of his life? All the therapy and AA sponsors and antidepressants in the world will not stop an alcoholic who wants to drink. The person has to want to stop and then do whatever it takes to keep away from the next drink.

"Hitting rock bottom" is supposed to be the answer, but some people seem to hit rock bottom and then bounce back to drink another day.

Willpower: a fleeting desire that is so hard to capture and exercise.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

The person was already inebriated at approximately 1 a.m. on Friday
when he started drinking these 13 cans of beer and Smirnoff Smash,
which he finished early Saturday afternoon. It's possible that more
cans were in the recycling bin. He also took cold/flu medicine
while drinking. This is someone who is committing suicide
in the slow lane, unless he crashes because of alcohol
poisoning, destroys his liver (which will happen
eventually), or injures himself so severely
while drunk that he can no longer hold
a can or dies.

Thursday, September 6, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Lovely, talented Sherry Ellis's latest book is available. It's

Bubba and Squirt are great characters, and the book is an excellent choice for inquisitive kids––and aren't they all inquisitive?

You can find Bubba and Squirt's Big Dig To China on Amazon at

You can trust me when I say it's a good book: I edited it.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

So sorry that the link I provided at first wasn't correct. It's working for me now; if it doesn't work for you, please let me know. Never give up!

Friday, August 31, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

In this post I whined and complained     bitched and moaned mentioned that I've been sick quite a few times since I started The Job.

For a while now, I've had a urinary tract infection that won't go away. My doctor finally narrowed down the problem this week: it's one of those creepy bacteria things that's hard to kill because it's resistant to most medications.

I've had two shots in my bottom (one for each cheek so they're equally sore), and I'm taking gigantic pills.

In that post, I also wrote about callers who think that I'm an automated system. Last week a woman yelled at me––she didn't know she was yelling at ME––because she thought I wasn't a person. She shouted, I jut want to talk to a real person and not this robot. 

I assure you, ma'am, said I, that I am a real person.

She apologized and explained that she thought I was the automated system. Recently, I had a reason to call our company's automated system. I listened to the voice of the woman and thought, I DO sound a bit like her––not robotic, but the sound of our voices is similar, along with the way that we pronounce words.

I wonder if she knows the difference between who and whom. If not, I'll have to educate her.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I saw a woman at Target with a Yorkie in her shopping cart. I assure you that Franklin and Penelope would not tolerate sitting in a cart. They'd run to the steaks and rip open all the packages.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Here I am, finally checking out the blogosphere, and I found an email from fishducky, who was worried about me because I live in Jacksonville, Florida.

I found out we'd had a mass shooting on Sunday when I received a text message from my oldest sister that said "Hope you weren't at Jacksonville Landing today." I had no idea what was going on. I turned on the TV and whoopie! we'd made MSNBC because a guy at a gaming tournament shot and killed two people, shot and wounded nine others, and then killed himself.

I usually spend Sundays with the Wooters man, but on this particular afternoon, I had shopping to do. I've been to the Landing on the St. John's River a total of once, I think in 2009.

I emailed Willy Dunne Wooters and said

Oh Willy boy. I'm so glad I know you aren't the kind of person who would go to a gaming tournament at the landing.

He replied:

These kids grew up playing shooting games and listening to NRA telling them how cool it is to carry around semi-automatic guns with laser sights. What could go wrong?

Of course, the shooting didn't happen because a particular kind of person goes to gaming tournaments. It could have occurred just as easily at the Target where I browsed.

We walk in danger. We sleep in danger. We also walk and sleep in safety most of the time. We could be even safer if we ever have a president, senators, and representatives who don't kowtow to the NRA.


IF that ever happens, then maybe, just maybe, I'll never see my city on the news again––except when we have a hurricane, or maybe because something good happens here because miracles happen every day.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Friday, August 17, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Fortunately, I don't get palmetto bugs in the house very often. However, last week I had a strange encounter with one of the nasty "sewer roaches."

The dogs and I got up one morning to find a palmetto bug that wasn't moving in the hall outside my bedroom door. Penelope headed toward it to check it out. I said "no" because I was afraid she'd eat it.

After I let the dogs out, I went back to get rid of the deceased palmetto. I took a big wad of toilet paper and picked him up to flush him down the toilet.

Suddenly he wiggled, flew out of the toilet paper (I wasn't holding it very tightly), and flew into the hall bathroom toilet to try out his back crawl. I hurried to flush him away.

He surprised me! He'll probably make his way through the sewer system to terrorize someone else.

I'm sure many of you join me to grieve the loss of Aretha Franklin. We saw her once. We went to the inaugural celebration for Bill Clinton (first time he was elected). Ms. Franklin was one of the performers. The crowd was so large and we were so far back that it was difficult to see Michael Jackson and LL Cool J, among others.

But I could see Aretha Franklin off in the distance. She wore a gigantic fur coat and stood out in so many ways.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Thursday, August 9, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I can't believe it's been more than a month since I've blogged.

I've been ill more often since I started working. I suppose it's all the exposure to other people and the environment, which is not too clean. The restrooms are cleaned during the day, but by evening they're pretty nasty. I wash my hands thoroughly, of course. When everything is kinda dirty, washing only does so much good.

The people who clean come around with those dusting thingies on long poles. They dust the top of the area around the desks, which serves to push the dirt onto the desks. I keep paper towels and a cleaning product in my desk drawer so I can give my desk regular cleanings. Although I have my "own" work area, I know other people use it when I'm not there. Heaven only knows what illnesses they leave on my keyboard.

One time I returned to work to find that someone had left used napkins in my top drawer!

I swear that place was cleaner when I started working there, not so very long ago. I'm certain that the bathrooms were cleaned more frequently. However, the people who use the bathrooms are a problem, too. I'm shocked by the number of people who can't be bothered to flush the toilet and who throw trash on the bathroom floor. What the hell?????

This evening I stopped at my favorite Mexican restaurant for a quick and inexpensive meal. I met a new server named Anaia, or maybe it's spelled Anaya. I'll have to ask her. She's from Colombia and has only been in the U.S. for four months.

Her English is good, but she said she needs to learn more words. I tried to use my limited Spanish to explain that one word can have multiple meanings and the meanings can vary based on the part of the country in which one lives.

I used "buggy" as an example. In the South, a buggy is a shopping cart. Then there's the baby buggy, which we don't see too often because it's been replaced by the stroller. Someone who is described as buggy might be considered loco. And if you have lots of cucarachas, your home is buggy.

One kind of strange thing has been happening at work when I take phone calls. I've been asked multiple times if I'm "real." Some people seem to think that I sound like an automated system. I'm taking it as a compliment because the first person who said it told me he asked because my voice is so perfect.

My co-workers confirmed that I pronounce words precisely and clearly. I guess it's a habit left from my days as a debater.

I leave you for now. I'll try not to let another month go by before I blog again.

Infinities of love,

The Real Janie Junebug

Thursday, July 5, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Yes, I know yesterday was July 4th, but I'm writing this yesterday so my title is appropriate.

Here's what I've decided to do about Woody Allen movies:

I'm not going to stop watching the movies he made that I love, such as Annie Hall, Manhattan, Radio Days, Hannah and Her Sisters, and Midnight in Paris. Art can transcend the artist.

However, I'm not going to watch any movies that he makes in the future. I'm also not going to purchase any of his movies on DVD.

I believe Dylan Farrow, who has a very specific recollection of him molesting her when she was a child. I don't care that he was acquitted. So was O.J. Simpson.

Her brother Ronan also stands by her, and he played a big part in breaking the Harvey The Rapist news (I'll be writing more about that very soon).

I'm going to continue watching movies made by Harvey Wienerstein's company because I don't think he'll ever make another movie––may he rot in prison with Bill Cosby.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Franklin, Penelope, and I are quite miserable because of the fireworks.

Wednesday, July 4, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Don't get upset or worried. I've never been raped or attaacked.

When I was younger, I got a lot of catcalls. Men came on to me in the grocery store even when I had a toddler with me and was wearing my wedding ring.

The "interest" from men was the worst when I was a reporter. Sometimes men I interviewed made suggestive remarks. A couple of guys followed me out to my car and didn't want to stop talking, apparently in the hope that I'd be so interested that I'd follow them to their beds.

A publisher once grabbed me by the arm––roughly––and I gave him holy hell in front of the entire newsroom and told him to never touch me again. He was quite respectful and careful after that. However, this anecdote doesn't mean that I think all women can get out of such situations as easily as I did. I wasn't worried about losing my job. I wasn't worried that I wouldn't be promoted.

In fact, when I applied for a different job several years later, the office manager called that publisher, who told the office manager that I had more integrity than anyone else he'd ever worked with.

My mind is on #METOO and it has been for quite some time. I have no problem with giving up reruns of Bill Cosby's sitcom because I didn't watch them anyway, but what do I do about the Woody Allen movies I love? What about Harvey Weinstein movies? Am I still able to separate the artist from the art?

On that note, I want to repeat a post I wrote a long time ago. I'll also be following up on this subject, so my #METOO will be continued. And if you'd like to share #METOO stories in a guest post on my blog, please email me at

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I promised you a work of art that achieves transcendence despite its creepiness factor and here it is: Manhattan, starring Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, and Mariel Hemingway.

LOVE this movie.

The glory of Gershwin, the sweet loveliness of young Mariel Hemingway, the skyline of our beautiful city. This film is a love affair with New York, in glorious black and white.

Its creepiness factor? Woody Allen's character, Isaac, is having an affair with 17-year-old Tracy, played by the oh-so-innocent looking Mariel. It become even more creepy knowing that Woody had an affair with his now wife when she was quite young (she's still very young), and she grew up with Allen as the father figure in her life. 

Who has an affair with the daughter of his longtime girlfriend with whom he's had a child and lets Mama find out when she discovers nude photos of her daughter in her "husband's" apartment?

Woody Allen.

We all know it. We know it's wrong. But somehow most of us look past it (it's o.k. Mia we still love you) and we still love his films.

I am extraordinarily fond of Annie Hall. Was Diane Keaton ever more beautiful? La di da, la di da.

But it's Manhattan that I truly adore. 

It's magic.

I read on IMDB that Woody offered to make another picture for free for Universal if they would shelve Manhattan. He supposedly thought it was terrible and the worst thing he had ever done.

I hope he got over it, and if he didn't, then I disrespectfully disagree with him.

Isaac Davis: Chapter One. He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion. Eh uh, no, make that he, he romanticized it all out of proportion. Better. To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin. Uh, no, let me start this over. 
Isaac Davis: Chapter One: He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street smart guys who seemed to know all the angles. Ah, corny, too corny for, you know, my taste. Let me, let me try and make it more profound. 

It's profound, Isaac.

Splendor in the skyline, glory in the concrete. I love New York. And it just doesn't get any better than Rhapsody in Blue.

I published this post on Sept. 21, 2010. Prior to writing this defense, I wrote a post about One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest that you can read HERE if you're so inclined.

Mariel Hemingway in Manhattan

Monday, June 25, 2018


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Remember when I told you about The Great American Read?

No? Then check out this post.

On days that I'm extra busy––which is almost everyday––I only vote for my all-time favorite:

However, I've also voted for


Additionally, I've now read another book from the list of 100, which brings me to 44 of the books. I don't know why I never read this great book before:

I still hope to read 50 of the books by the time voting ends on Oct. 18. I have my next book picked out. It's by an author I really like, so I should have another update on my reading in a few weeks.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug