6 Reasons to Hike

Just last week I treated myself to a Friday hike with two guys that work in my office, one of whom isn’t exactly your outdoorsy type. In fact, this was his first hike, ever. So I decided to both take it easy on him and bust his chops all at once by taking him on the famous Chimney Tops Trail. I took it easy on him because it’s only a two mile trek to the top. I busted his chops, though, because it’s a tough little climb, for in that two miles, you gain 1,700 feet.

Anyone who’s reading in the Knoxville area is likely familiar with the Chimneys. Many of you have probably hiked it. Of the countless trails which wind through the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, it’s perhaps the most popular of them all.

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The Mahogany Box

Lauren opened the pantry door and raked through the clothes which hung from an old curtain rod that was cut to fit and jimmied between the two walls. Her third time through, she realized she’d ironed in front of the TV the night before, so she walked into the den and over to the alcove window where more clothes hung from yet another old curtain rod.

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Dear Santa, I Gotta Get Something Off My Chest

Dear Santa,

I’ve got some seriously complicated feelings that I gotta get off my chest.

Back in the day? You were the harbinger of Christmas, a jolly good man armed with a shit ton (it’s metric) of toys, and I believed, Santa. With every bit of my little, innocent heart. Then, virtually overnight, you became a laughing stock to me — a pretend dude only little babies still believed in.

[Read the rest at AimingLow]

Photo Credit

Porch Swing

Image: Kirsten Killer via Creative Commons

Below you’ll find the first chapter of something that was initially a short story. The chapter is set several years before The Teacher (the first part of the third chapter) which I’ve also posted on this blog.

* * *

No tears. She’d promised.

“When’re you comin’ home?”

“Soon.”

A crackly voice emanated from the bus station speaker. “Ardmore. Last call.”

“Bye, girl.”

“Call me,” she said after they kissed for what she feared was the last time.

Funny how a place could come to mean so much to someone. Both good and bad. Especially considering he’d never even been to Ardmore til the time he and his mama first drove there on that hot August day.

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Tomorrow

No tears. She’d promised.

“When’re you comin’ home?”

“Soon.”

A crackly voice emanated from the bus station speaker. “Ardmore. Last call.”

“Bye, girl.”

“Call me,” she said after they kissed for what she feared was the last time.

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The Question I Answered in 62 Miles

I’d been thinking about it the entire hike. My son’s question, that is. Daddy, why do you walk up and down the mountains? There it was, day four, and I still wasn’t sure what the answer was.

I think it was mile 15 on that day when I started to get a bit loopy. Fatigue’ll do that to you. I stared at the leaf-covered trail and wondered which of those leaves would be carried away by the tips of my trekking poles and which would stay put.

[read more at Babble Voices]

The Teacher

“Mama wasn’t much for makin’ a fuss over herself. She was more into doin’ things for others. And the biggest thing she ever done for me was findin’ the guts to leave. It ain’t worth gettin’ into, but things weren’t goin’ good back in Oakman. And a lotta women woulda sat there and explained things away while they lived their lives the best they could, but Mama was brave enough to put her foot down.

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Umbilical Cord Stumps are Underrated. And Super Versatile. [Photos]

My goodness. What a difference a babe makes. As in baby. See, the triplets were my first ever exposure to babies and looking back, it’s astonishing how clueless I was. Take the whole umbilical-cord-stump deal for example. The first day home from the hospital (well, the first day home with the boys — Kirby was still in the NICU at that point…) the sight of rough-looking black extensions of dead skin that protruded from my sons’ belly buttons took me aback. [Cue the dipshit music.] When I first noticed it on Sam I actually thought that one of the blue corn chips I had been eating must have somehow fallen in my shirt pocket before finding its way to my son’s stomach during a diaper change. Naturally, I was embarrassed by the gaffe. So this time around, I vowed to make up for it by being more in touch with the matter from word go.

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Man Updates Facebook Status While Holding Woman Hostage

Dude. Would this not make the most awesome profile pic ever?   Image: deltaMike via Creative Commons

You know what I absolutely cannot stand? When I’m totally engaged in a felonious activity only to realize that my dumb ass has run off and left my smartphone in the car. Nothing, I mean nothing, annoys me quite like that. Because how else would I keep all my buddies up to speed on my nefarious activities? Sure, they could wait for the 6 o’clock news, or whatever, but that’s so 2004.

Just ask Jason Valdez. He knows. Because he’s the 36-year-old man who updated his Facebook status multiple times inside a Salt Lake City hotel room during a 16-hour standoff with authorities while holding a woman hostage.

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Bird Shit, Locker Nazis and an Untimely Sweating Issue and the YMCA

This bird flat-out had his way with my mirror. He's about to take off and bang into it repeatedly. Note the preposterous amounts of bird shit he's left in his wake.

I had a weird day, y’all. It started with this itty bitty little bird who had a strange preoccupation with my car. I watched from the kitchen window as he set up shop on the tiny ledge where the passenger window meets the passenger door. Cute, right? I suppose, until he started in on the passenger-side mirror. He’d give it the eye for a bit as if getting up the courage to approach, before suddenly taking off like a bat out of hell straight toward it. And though it’s a pretty short flight (let’s call it four inches), he got up some serious speed and crashed into the mirror time and time again.

I watched this spectacle in utter disbelief for like five entire minute before finally going outside to get a closer look, which prompted the little son of a bitch to fly away. That’s when I noticed the copious amounts of bird shit that adorned that tiny little window ledge of the passenger-side door.

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