The Fright Long After Halloween

Beloved can be, well, unusual at times.  In fairness we all can.  So when he came into the house and declared someone was going through our trash I just kind of shrugged my shoulders. It isn’t like we have exciting trash.  Mostly just food stuffs and dirty paper napkins.  The odd wrapper and lots of dog poop.

We tie out dog poop up in little baggies once we pick up after her.  Which is right after she’s decided to do the deed.  So I mean honestly if someone were to go through our rubbish, have at it.  But to Beloved this isn’t good enough.  First he wanted hard proof someone was going through the rubbish bins and secondly he would want to know want they were looking for.

Beloved being Beloved, he set up a covert camera and trained it on the trash cans.  Within a few days he had his proof, there were two individuals going through the bins.  They were not successful in finding whatever it is they wanted to find as they walked away empty-handed.  And while they did go through the trash, they sort of tidied it up when they were done.

Still I was unnerved that someone felt s need or desire to go through my trash so we called local law enforcement and shared the footage with them.  And that’s why we now have law enforcement do random checks throughout the day.  It’s also  why Beloved has someone with him at work now too.  Just until we know what’s going on,  because free speech and the right to associate with who you wish is never really free.  People will try to exact a cost, such as a career or a life if need be.


The Perfect Color

What I remember most about Myrtle was her lips. They were stunning, painted a pink that my mother would never wear. Actually I don’t recall any ladies wearing the color that was proudly covering Myrtle’s lips.

I also remember that Myrtle always seemed to be smiling with those amazing pink lips. I don’t recall anything other than a smile, a big cheerful smile on her face.

Oh and she had the most beautiful big eyes adorned by the most lovely, long eyelashes. She was simply beautiful, stunning and confident while exuding pure happiness from her round, green face.

Oh yes, Myrtle was a Turtle, a stuffed green one. I don’t remember when we met, but I do know it was love at first sight so to speak. I simply had to have her. She became my standard for beauty. Lips should be lovely brilliant pink, not the colors my mother wore. Eyelashes should be long and curved into lovely fluttery ends. My mother’s eyelashes weren’t at all like that and neither were any of her friends.

I wasn’t aiming for the lush green of Myrtle’s skin though, that was a bit much. Although eyeshadow in that color? Well maybe. But first the lips and the eyelashes.

The number of years I spent searching for that pink, only to discover once I found it, that it didn’t suit me at all. And oh how I tried, how I struggled with those eyelashes, before finally giving up.

Myrtle’s style, Myrtle’s ability to pull off that look and style simply wasn’t for me. But the smile, the joy, that I could pull off, or at least as often as I could remember to do so. And so that is what I keep with me from Myrtle, plus the image of her.