Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 2

brown wooden house near trees

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Welcome to Chapter 2 of the story.  Previously, in Chapter 1, Rebel has discovered the Red-Neck Bears’ cabin, with no at home.  Being a boy filled mischief, Rebel enjoys having the run of the place.  In case you missed the opening chapter of the story, this link will take you there:  Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 1.

Let’s check back at the final part of the previous chapter.  Enjoy this chapter of a three-part series.  

Jumping off, Rebel steps over to the final machine.  Everything feels just right as he sits on the seat.  He eagerly cranks up the motor and takes off for a spin around the front yard.  Being a city kid, Rebel has never driven anything like a four-wheeler.  He quickly loses control.

Crash!

A mammoth maple tree blocks the path of the small four-wheeler.  Unhurt, Rebel hops off.  He seems unfazed by the damage done to the tree, much less the mangled front end of the machine.

Meanwhile, the porridge continues to cool in the kitchen.  The Bears are enjoying their early morning venture into the woods, but they realize that they must soon turn around and begin heading back before the porridge becomes cold.

Rebel scampers up the front steps and boldly enters the cabin without any fear.  He has assumed, correctly of course, that the home is empty.  After all, no one came running outside when he foolishly crashed into the majestic maple tree.

Inside the living room in plain sight are three different sizes of video screens.  The Bears enjoy gaming on each of their individual screens.  Walking right past the three comfortable-looking chairs, Rebel checks out the enormous video screen, but he cannot figure out how to operate the remote.  Frustrated, he throws the remote at the wall, and it shatters into several pieces.

Sliding over to the slightly smaller screen, Rebel becomes frustrated with the poor quality of the video.  His impatience ruptures as he slams the screen to the floor, cracking it in more than one place.  Anyone can see that young Rebel has a temper that boils over quickly and easily.

Last of all, Rebel spies a small mobile game device sitting on an end table, and it looks just right.  He has used a similar device before at a friend’s house in the city.  Happily, he begins playing on the device before slipping through the kitchen and dashing past the cooling porridge.  He takes the device with him, thinking that he will keep this for the journey home.

Meanwhile, the hungry Bears are nearing their home.  With a brief stop to gather some fresh berries for their porridge and some firewood for the wood stove, they will be back in less than ten minutes.

As Rebel glides out the back door, he realizes that his family is probably quite worried about his sudden disappearance.  He is set to begin his walk back through the woods towards the city, but three hot tubs catch his wondering eyes as he hurries across the backyard.  A morning dip appeals to him before he begins his journey for home (and a stern talking to from his parents, who have been distraught all morning).

As he approaches the tubs, he kicks off his shoes and socks.  Rebel dips a hand into the enormous tub, but he discovers that the water is much too hot for him.  Moving over to the next tub, he dips a bare left foot into the calm water, but swiftly pulls it back out.  With the water feeling like ice cubes, he accidentally loosens his grip on the gaming device.  The device falls to the bottom of the tub where it suffers a frigid, fateful plunge.

With one hot tub left to check out, Rebel cautiously approaches.  He feels the warm water beckoning him to jump in . . . and he does, clothes and all!  The steamy water feels just right as he slumps down in the perfectly sized tub.  Hmm, he feels like he could stay here forever.

Soon, the perfectly heated water serenades Rebel to sleep.  His long trip away from home has left him more fatigued than he realizes.

Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 1

brown wooden house near trees

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Deep in the woods stands an enormous and beautifully built cabin.  The cabin has been the most magnificent home in the immense woods for many years.

The cabin provides a well-to-do home for the Red-Neck Bears.  They keep the inside of their cabin looking pleasant, and the yard is always maintained to look better than any found in the woods.  Someone always asks, “Why are they called the Red-Neck Bears?”

The Bears always wear colorful red scarves around their necks.  The bright red color separates them from the other bears that live throughout the woods. The Red-Neck Bears are a family filled with plenty of sophistication and class, and their lifestyle is the envy of all who live in the woods.

Some may feel that they already know the story of the “Three Bears” from childhood stories from long ago, but this is the sequel that few have ever heard of.  Sit down now, relax a spell, and enjoy the story.

True, there are three bears.  The family’s patriarch is Papa Bear, a mighty beast with a loving and soft heart.  His lovely wife, Mama Bear, keeps the home running smoothly with tender love and care.  Their child, Baby Bear, is so grown-up now that Papa Bear likes to refer to him as Junior Bear.

The Bears awake early on this warm summer morning (as they always do).  Each puts on a fresh and clean red scarf as is the family’s tradition.  Mama Bear prepares the usual breakfast of porridge (some habits never change).  As expected, the porridge is much too hot for anyone to eat so the family leaves their cozy and comfortable cabin for a quick, morning walk while the porridge cools.

Now, let’s see where the rest of the story goes.  Remembering of course, this is a sequel in the storyline of the “Three Bears”, aka “Red-Neck Bears.”

While the Bears are away, mischief arrives in their front yard.  A curious and sometimes naughty thirteen-year old boy, Rebel, stumbles upon the cabin.  He has run away from his family who live in the big city on the other side of the woods.  Rebel is always in trouble back home, and his parents have threatened him with a harsher life filled with fewer privileges until he shapes up.  He is on his way to becoming the most obnoxious of all juvenile delinquents.

As Rebel steps into the yard, he quickly discovers three four-wheelers parked in a perfectly straight line, just like they have been waiting for his arrival.  The Bears enjoy taking rides throughout the woods on their splendid machines.  It can be quite exhilarating to experience the vastness and beauty of the woods while riding these sporty vehicles.

Rebel jumps on the gigantic four-wheeler, but the seat feels much too large and too hard.  He accidentally spits out his hunk of bubble gum, and it lands squarely on the seat.  Looking to his right, he moves to the next four-wheeler.  The seat fits better, but it feels much too soft.  Frustrated, Rebel deflates one of the tires just because it seems like the right thing to do.

Jumping off, Rebel steps over to the final machine.  Everything feels just right as he sits on the seat.  He eagerly cranks up the motor and takes off for a spin around the front yard.  Being a city kid, Rebel has never driven anything like a four-wheeler.  He quickly loses control.

Crash!

A mammoth maple tree blocks the path of the small four-wheeler.  Unhurt, Rebel hops off.  He seems unfazed by the damage done to the tree, much less the mangled front end of the machine.

Monday Memories: Twelve Forgettable Christmas Gifts

Here is a humorous poem filled with amazing, and quite forgettable Christmas gift ideas.  I am not sure if I see one for me, but perhaps you will find something unique for yourself.  The poem was published in December, 2018, and it has been updated.

man in santa claus costume

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Imagining a zany list of gift ideas for another year

Let’s make Christmas cool again, as it comes near

 

Sitting here tonight in Ohio’s Buckeye land

Not too certain about Santa’s helping hand

 

Hoping that special gifts will await under the tree

Thinking that “some” might be pleasing for thee

 

A self-stirring coffee mug looks quite neat

Stirring my cup o’ Joe will be an easy feat

 

Christmas tea bags offer a fresh twist

Leaving my cup filled with a tasty mist

 

Is that Darth Vader defending the door?

Inflating him brings fear and much more

 

I’m not really into checking Twitter most of the time

Looking at a set of framed tweets, could be just fine

 

My stocking might be filled with a hockey stick snow brush

Cheering for my beloved Blue Jackets on the ice is a must

 

Someone spies a cassette tape collection of familiar songs

Wondering where to find a cassette player that is long gone

 

Golf ball finder glasses will most likely do the trick

Searching for each wayward shot in rough so thick

 

My daughter tempts me with chocolate Brussel sprouts

Wishing for “just” the sweet chocolate, leaves no doubt

 

A senior moment’s memory workout DVD should be slick

Keeping my brain’s recall functioning, makes a great gift

 

Coffee drinking in the morning, wine sipping late at night

Using a “Flip Over” glass, makes switching work just right

 

Last of all, needing to conceal every doughnut so sweet

Receiving a doughnut mug may hide it—isn’t this neat!

 

Warming myself in front of a blazing fire this cold night

Hoping that another lump of coal, will never be in sight

 

Hubby’s Toolbox

 

combination wrench screw bolt and pointed top hammer

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Hello Big Sky Buckeye readers!  I am a housewife who has a story to share with you.  My dear husband is a great guy and a loving spouse, but I do have issues with his home maintenance skills.

I guess it is okay to tell you more here.  Just don’t tell my husband . . . okay?

My hubby’s toolbox is home for his most precious tools.  Fortunately, one particular tool is no longer found in his toolbox.  Please allow me to tell you why.

Every home has a bathroom commode (or as we Americans say, a toilet).  I think commode sounds much more elegant, and my home is definitely a beautiful place.

The commode “always” needs to be in perfect working order, and routine maintenance is sometimes required.  This aging commode needs a facelift as its seat is cracked.  Hubby says he can buy a new one and install it in a flash.  I remember him telling me, “No problem.”

Wives, have you ever heard your husband say the same thing?  Sometimes a “simple” job turns into a nightmare.

The rest of what I tell you comes directly from my dear hubby’s mouth (after he confessed to me all of the dreary facts).

A commode seat is attached to the porcelain bowl with a pair of bolts and nuts.  Seeing that this commode is an older model, the metal bolts and nuts have rusted together because of the passage of time and bathroom moisture.

My poor hubby strains and works to free up the nut on each bolt, but he is experiencing extra frustration.  He tries a couple of different wrenches, but the bolt and nut remain sealed for eternity (or so it seems to him).

But ah!  My hubby’s toolbox contains other usual devices.  He comes back to the bathroom with a hammer and a chisel.  (I kid you not!)  He plans to be careful, and a gentle nudge from the chisel will break off the rusted nut from each bolt.  I can just hear him saying, “This chisel will do the trick.”

Lying back under the commode to insure he has a proper angle, hubby positions the chisel carefully against the nut.  With a graceful swing of the hammer, everything will be okay.

Right?

Oh, so wrong!

The chisel slips off the nut, and the hammer busts out a small hole in the porcelain bowl.  Now, you know what husbands do when disaster hits.  They run out to the garage for a “deep thinking” session.

You know ladies; it is good to give your husband some space when he is working on a home maintenance project.  However, I become curious and wander into the bathroom to check on hubby’s progress.

Thinking he is finished, I decide to help him clean up.  (He has thoughtfully taken the hammer and chisel with him.)  There are some shavings of some kind in the bowl so I decide to flush them down and away.

Oh my!  I flush the commode, and the mother of all floods rushes onto my pristine bathroom floor.  With water everywhere, I sprint to the garage to locate my “deep thinking” hubby, who is in deep water now.

Well, let’s wrap up this story before I become aggravated again, and you all enjoy more laughs at my poor hubby’s expense.  We now have a three-color commode with slightly differing shades of color for the seat, the bowl, and the original tank.

Yes, my husband manages to replace the seat, but he needs to return to Home Depot to purchase a new porcelain bowl.  We won’t even go into the rest of the mess he makes in replacing the bowl . . . oh my goodness!

Hubby’s chisel now hangs in the garage since it has been banished from sitting in his toolbox ever again.  Next to the chisel, rests a note (from yours truly).  The note states, “Remember to Always Think.”

Wives (and husbands), can I let you in on a quick tip?  Always call a professional!

Friday, the 13th

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Does Friday, the 13th, bring on bad luck?

Breaking a mirror, let’s not make a scene

Crossing paths with a black cat, now fear struck

This Friday’s trying hard, to make us scream

 

Let’s focus on a different number

Twelve delivers a comforting meaning

Twelve Days of Christmas, never to shudder

Twelve Tribes of Israel, never demeaning

 

For some people, “thirteen” seems unlucky

Not really sure why others whine and fuss

Heading out the door with my dog Lucky

Snow flurries in June, now that’s treasonous!

 

So, what’s the big deal about the 13th?

Just change the calendar to the 14th

horseshoe luck sidewalk

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Enough Is Enough

white and orange pumpkins on table

Photo by Anna Tukhfatullina Food 

Harvest and Halloween, over and done

Autumn trying to hang on for some fun

 

November arrives, but what you say?

Christmas music begins to fill the day

 

Black Friday “Preview Sale” beckons us

To be shopping, without all of this fuss

 

Right on schedule, Thanksgiving arrives

Eating far, far too much, we’ll all survive

 

But wait . . . Pre-Black Friday calls

Following our feast, off to the mall

 

What’s absolutely annoying with this scene?

Leaving family to shop, a dreadful scheme

 

Oh!  My frosty enthusiasm, definitely not humming

This longer shopping season; totally mind-numbing

shopping business money pay

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Hold on to your horses!  There’s more to come

Political campaigns rolling, like a beating drum

 

Elections are months and months away

Too many candidates, with little to say

 

The rhetoric ramps up, the speeches too long

Hoping laryngitis will quell voices, with a gong

person dropping paper on box

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Buried with mindless literature in the daily mail

Sales flyers and candidates’ bios, tip the scale

 

At least, there is one good thing with this mess

Plenty of excessive paper to start a fire, no less

 

While warming myself and trying now to relax

Please accept my apologies for all of this flak

 

Enough is enough, these changes are too extreme

Wishing now for more simple times, I shall dream

fire wood firewood fireplace

Photo by alex Lázaro on Pexels.com

 

 

Monday Memories: Still a Desperate Man

Country music artist, Eric Church, released “Desperate Man” back in October, 2018.  After hearing the song, his lyrics inspired me to write one of my earliest poems about a desperate man after hearing the song.  This poem has been updated from the original.  

Waking up in the morning much, much too late

My alarm clock was telling me to sleep and wait

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Opening my bank statement one afternoon

A positive balance won’t come anytime soon

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Looking forward to a hot shower early in the morn

The frigid, cold water tells me this is not the norm

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Forgetting to check my car’s fuel gauge

The gas runs out, and my emotions rage

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Turning on my bathroom light, around midnight

The bulb burns out, and leaves me in a fright

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Returning home after a long week on the road

Discover the fridge conked out, nothing’s cold

I’m still a desperate man!

 

Arriving at work on a cloudy, rainy, gray day

My boss tells me to permanently stay away

I’m still a desperate man!

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Take My Place

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Have you ever thought?

About the significance of a chair

Providing comfort and relaxing care

 

Chairs, many in number

Starring in all sizes and shapes

Making for countless escapes

 

Summertime in the backyard

A sturdy, relaxing hammock waits

Making afternoon naps an ideal fate

 

Looking for a cool place to sit

Bean bag chairs, ready for fun

Comfortable seats for everyone

 

A rocking chair seldom sits alone

Inviting story time for two

Grandma reads, right on cue

 

Every living room offers choices

A colorful sofa seats two, maybe more

Crowding together, let’s not try for four

 

Extra chairs needed at an event

Arriving much, much too late

A folding chair will be my fate

 

Summer sun, surf, and sand

Sitting at the beach, carries the day

Relaxing under brilliant, sunny rays

 

Energetic, little people arrive

Parking themselves in tiny banana seats

Rocking with laughter, enjoying some treats

 

An oversized recliner, in a corner

Always my best and most favorite place

Stretching out to relax, by the fireplace

 

Before you go, I have one request to ask

Will you please “take my place” in this special chair

The dentist is eager and ready, with genuine care

chair clean clinic dental care

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I must be honest and admit.  Visiting the dentist isn’t one of my favorite places to be.  I’ve endured the removal of four wisdom teeth (in one visit) as well as the preparation needed for a crown.  How do you feel about going to the dentist?

Haiku Series #40 (Humor)

Ugly

Charming afternoon

Errant shot finds the thick woods—

Golfing ain’t much fun

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Photo by Chris McClave on Pexels.com

 

Oh my!

Beautiful park bench

Offering a short respite—

(Absent) “Wet Paint” sign

bench in the garden

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Greed

Black Friday looming

Stores now offer Preview Sale—

Coming a week early

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