FRANKLIN FRIDAY: MOM WASN'T WEARING UNNERWARE

 A note from Franklin's mom: Franklin first told this story in 2017. I like to share it again each summer when it gets hot.

HI! Hi! Hi! Hi hi hihihihhhihihi 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.

Oh.

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 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.

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Try not to be shocked: It didn't rain Tuesday. We even saw the sun for a few hours. I'd forgotten what it looked like.

 Tropical Storm Elsa should arrive in a few hours and stay all day. I hope she departs quickly on Thursday.

Here's Lake Junebug at 6:45 p.m. Tuesday. It's a big improvement over the video I took on Sunday. The pump, which I circled, has been working steadily. 

I can go down the deck steps to the concrete without getting my feet wet. 

I've put away the pump for now and will get it out again when Elsa has passed. I'll try to get another photo of the backyard at the same time Wednesday so we can make a comparison.

In addition to all the fun items I ordered on Prime Day, I also placed more practical orders with Amazon and other companies having sales. 

My emergency weather radio no longer worked, so I replaced it.

If I keep this little guy turned on, he'll automatically provide alerts about urgent matters. He also has a flashlight (the bright light coming from his bottom in the photo) and a horn I can blast that's so loud it frightened all three of us when I tested it. I doubt I'll use that, but I will keep him close.

All of my gadgets are charged. We expect high winds and heavy rains.

I'll enjoy this addition to my kitchen:

I now have two of these Mason Jar drinking glasses with glass straws––that's right, glass! No plastic to add to the world's garbage pile. 

This one is filled with my favorite drink, Diet Pepsi and lemon, but if I should decide to switch to a margarita, the lid makes me less likely to spill when I'm tipsy.

I have plenty of clean water in the house and enough to eat.

See you post-Elsa!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

SPECIAL DELIVERY

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

The items I ordered on Amazon Prime Day have started to arrive. First to be delivered was one of the 9 naked men.

He arrived well-packaged and intact and headed straight for my bed. He came was delivered in quite a large box.

When I review this man, I'll give him

for a fine performance and reliability.

I wonder if the other 8 naked men will be equally satisfactory. I hope they're delivered soon.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

A RUFF WEEKEND FOR FRANKLIN AND PENELOPE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Here we are at 1 a.m. and some on July 5th and we're still plagued by noise.

Franklin and Penelope did not enjoy the weekend because of this

and this

We expect Tropical Storm Elsa mid-week, and we already have this

At least the frogs are happy.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: OUR RECIPE FOR DOG COOKIES

 Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi Every Buddy! Hi! It's me it's me it's me Franklin the Bordernese and I'm here to tell you how to bake dog cookies with ease.

Mom made these cookies for me and ole Penlapee last night. She says I should start by telling you all the ingredients you need. 

 1/2 cup dry milk

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons oil but we use peanut butter

1 egg

2/3 cup cold water

2 1/2 cups flour

Preheat the oven to 350°. Put

everything except the flour in the bowl and mix it up. Mom used the mixer with the dough hooks because the dough gets kneaded but you can stir everything with a spoon and then knead with your hands. 

Mom used peanut butter because we LOVE peanut butter. One time she used oil and added peppermint extract but she said it didn't do anything to improve our breath. It couldn't because we have good smelling breath.

If you're using a mixer, stop it after a while to push everything down in the bowl with a rubber scraper. Gradually add the flour. It's okay if you get some crumbs outside the bowl. Brush them onto the floor because the dogs will eat them.

When everything is mixed together, knead the dough. If you aren't using a mixer, you should take the dough out of the bowl for this part.

Then you roll out the dough and cut it into shapes. Mom has a cookie cutter shaped like a bone that she used. She also has cookie cutters shaped like dogs. She didn't use those because it would make us look like cannibals.

Put the cookies on cookie sheets. She put just a little shortening on the cookie sheets so the cookies didn't stick. 

Put the cookie sheets in the oven. Depending on how thick or thin you rolled out the dough, the cookies will take about 20 minutes to bake so keep an eye on them.

The two little blobs are leftover pieces of dough and we don't care that they aren't bone shaped.

The cookies will be a nice golden brown when they're done, unless you bake them longer to make them crispy.

When you take the cookies out of the oven, you have to let them cool for a while so the dogs don't burn their tongues. When they're all ready, they look like this:

And I look like this because I know Mom will give me a cookie:

Now go bake some cookies for your dog. If you don't have a dog, you can bake cookies and send them to us.

Okay I love you Bye Bye!

DR. C HAS DIED

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

My favorite professor has died. I called him Dr. C. He was a critical part of my life during the '90s.

When I married, I had about a year's worth of college credits. It took me another 20 years to get my BA as we moved around for my ex-husband's education and career. I was of no importance to my husband and allowed myself to be treated as such.

When we settled in one spot in Maryland, I found a college to attend, and I was off to the races to get my degree in English. I came to know Dr. C during my second semester when I took his survey of American literature class. I found him intimidating, but realized quickly that his demands expanded my ability to write a critical essay. 

At the end of the semester, he asked me to be one of his graders when classes resumed in the fall. It was the beginning of four semesters working for him. We became closer each semester. My respect for him grew.

I took every class he taught with the exception of English 101, for which I graded quizzes and essays.  I'll try here to remember them all: Survey of American Lit, Greek Mythology, American Poetry, 19th Century American Lit, Shakespeare, Milton . . . could there have been something else? I can't remember now.

Dr. C expected his students to use "a close, textual" analysis when writing our essays. It was New Criticism. It served me well. I used the same approach as a newspaper reporter, leaning heavily on quotations in my work with analysis of my own and from experts.

I received my first A+ from Dr. C in the Shakespeare class when I wrote about appearance v. reality in As You Like It. He said I had taught him something. I didn't need my car to get home that day. I floated.

Dr. C praised my clear style and said I had grown as a grader. Sometimes we gossiped a little in his office, chatting about the other professors. He let me into his world––the world of literature and writing and education. We had the kind of relationship I've never had with another man, because it was based on love and respect and learning from each other with no suspicions or agendas.

When I graduated, I planned on continuing my education with a master's degree, but my husband was unemployed and the master's never happened. But I emailed Dr. C to let him know I was a journalist. He replied: I knew you'd find your niche.

Yes, Dr. C has died, but 35 years of teaching provide a legacy of learning by thousands of students. I'll always miss him and our time together.

He was important to me, and I was important to him.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

PENELOPE SPEAKS: I MUST REMAIN VIGILANT TO GET TO FRANCE

 Hello. It is I, Penelope.

I have been waiting for years and have not been able to gain access again to the secret passage to France. Mom Mom has not moved the bad pots that stand in my way.

I decided to hurry along the process by making a pot disintegrate. I pulled off a big piece of pot and broke it apart on the bed I share with Mom Mom.

Then I lay on the other side of the bed and played Pretty Princess Penelope.

Drat! She noticed the pieces on the bed. 

Mom Mom spoke to me with a cruelty––nay, a savagery––the likes of which I have never heard before.

BUSTED!

Now the only way to get to France is to wait for Mom Mom to move the bad flower pots. I will sleep when Mom Mom sleeps. The rest of the time, I must be awake in case she moves a pot.

Do not worry about me.

I am not sleepy.

That is alllll . . . zzzzzzzzzzzz