I'm Just Saying

A catalog of jinxes

Pam Stone's picture

Yep, I jinxed us, alright.

It was but a couple of weeks after I opined one evening to Paul, “You know, it’s been a few years since any stray cat showed up here at the farm...” that we discovered our marmalade cat, lying near death beneath the tool shed.

Rummaging through old children’s books

Pam Stone's picture

Every now and then I will rummage through old books–correction, old children’s books that I have kept since pilfering them from my elementary school’s library and, more commonly, received as gifts from adored, overseas English aunts who always mailed them, as Julie Andrews would approve, in ‘brown paper packages, tied up with strings.’

Google, baby

Pam Stone's picture

My friend, Ruby, who is relatively new to the area, texted me in a pickle.

“I’m going to a baby shower and I’ve not seen any baby boutiques in the area,” she wrote.

“Google, baby,” I shot back, while tacking up a horse in the barn.

“Google ‘baby’?” she replied. “Instead of baby boutiques?”

Not so wild about Harry

Pam Stone's picture

Harry, stop it.

Please—you’ve given me PTS (Post traumatic ‘Spare’) Syndrome with this blitzkrieg of promotional publicity for the tell-all tome about your family, to the point where I’m now adding to the media furor surrounding it.


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