Doree Anderson

Ode to Tomatoes... I love tomatoes. Juicy red tomatoes. We wait all summer long for our plants to mature. And then, yes sir ree. There it is. The first one of the season. You quickly pick it. Run it into the house. Show it to everyone, those who could care and those who could care less, even the dog and cat. Remember, it is the first one. Drum roll please. You cut it up. (one slice because it's the first one and about the size of a cherry). With flare and excitement, you place your cut on a plate, add salt and pepper, (not too much) and take a taste. Nirvana. Oh my gracious. The juice drips down your throat. The acid alerts everyone of your thousands of taste buds. They stand, they taste, they cry. Heaven packed into a small piece of fruit. And, the following morning, you have been blessed with the biggest cancor sore ever....with just a tiny little blister above your lip. And, as the cold sore enlarges, ask yourself this; was it worth it. Oh! Heck, yes!!! Thank you to all the tiny

Happiness is... Do you remember the song from "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown?" I was thinking about it the other day and though, what a grand idea. Lets do a "Happiness is... for today. Look at the good side of life and smile. Show the world that your today is going great! Happiness is... waking up in the morning. Happiness is... good health for you and your family. Happiness is... the time to write Happiness is... the sun that's shinning. Happiness is... the fresh smell of cut grass in the morning. Happiness is... Life. As I was walking through Murray Park, the last of the migrating ducks were hanging out and watching us very carefully. They have been so spoiled with people feeding them bread that I think they though I was going to toss them some bread. Yes, it made my little heart break, cause I had to tell them that I was empty handed. So, if you go into the park today, please take a surprise. The ducks are hungry and we've been feeding them, so let

What would you do? I don't want to spend no more stinking monies for a group of ladies to read my story and tell me it can't win ANOTHER contest. Thirty, forty or fifty dollars circling the drain and it's only a little flush away to watch it go bye bye. Yet, I open my mail and find at least three more contests begging for entries. It's like a alcoholic in a liquor store. On Sale, your choice of Whipping - I've never actually read, "This might not be the correct vocation for you." But, when that happens I have every intention of finding a rock and hiding under it. Shoot, I can read between the lines. I just can't write the actual lines :-) Gee, wasn't that fun? I feel better. I am trying to come up with a rock solid plan. A plan that has my butt in the chair, daily. I can make up some real pissy excuses when it comes to doing work. Don't get me wrong; I love writing. It's just that my muse really loves vacationing. The little sweetie has