Life On The Naughty Chair

I'm the reason they started prayers in school. I'm also the proof that prayer is not enough.


repeating character posts

Aria’s Life Lessons. Edna Never Paid Attention to the Details.


This is Edna Abberworthy. She was the strange lady who sat next to little children in church and gave them nightmares. Mainly because she would hug fidgety children and try to share things from her pocket.  That might be a lovely chocolate, a stale, half eaten peppermint, a kibble meant for her kitty, or even some random rabbit poop.

This is her as a child.

She never paid attention in class and she missed a lot of important details.   Here we see her missing the detail of what exactly princesses are supposed to kiss that may turn into princes.  Everyone else in her class who paid attention knew that princesses kiss frogs, NOT pigs. Pigs don’t do anything when you kiss them. There is no magic. There are only the PETA people who want to put you in jail for harming innocent animals or some minister somewhere telling you that God wants you to stay married to him anyway and that if you were any kind of a Christian you would not complain but be grateful that you are married to a righteous man.

And no, there are no exact stories that deal with ending up having married a pig and never being allowed to escape because suffering is supposed to be awesome.  You really have to pay attention, not only for the instructions (as in frogs can turn into princes) but to pull out the lies, the conspiracies aimed at you, and the inferred information hidden deep within the “happily ever after” crap.  If you do that, through osmosis, you will understand, at some point in your life,  that you should not be kissing pigs, ever. AND NEVER EVER close your eyes like Edna is doing here because sure as heck, someone is going to try and slip in an pig when you aren’t looking.

Also, beware of pigs in frog costumes.

Poor Edna never got a prince, a frog, or even a pig.

Evidently she was a terrible kisser.

So pay attention to the small details, keep your eyes open, and practice kissing. These are not just sweet suggestions to be embroidered into some lacey throw pillow – these are survival skills to be tatooed on your forehead. It should hurt, a lot . . . so that you remember.

Edna ended up all alone. She thought her cats loved her but they didn’t. They just liked the smell of bacon.

Don’t be an Edna Abberworthy.  Sit up straight and eat your carrots.


Lessons From The Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. The UnMowed Lawn.

TLRHG Unmowed lawn

The grass was over grown, perhaps the lawnmower had broken down, or perhaps her parents were just too busy with preparations for Christmas, but the little red haired girl appeared not to notice a thing amiss as she strode purposefully into the midst of the grass that was almost as tall as she was. She had that very busy look about her, like nothing would deter her from her very important appointment with her back yard.

Today’s look was a sort of fairy-cowboy-Barbie. She had her wings hanging off one arm and dragging in the grass and her fairy skirt. She had on cowboy boots and a straw cowboy hat with a dangling red whistle under her chin. And she had a pink Barbie t-shirt on- inside out for her own stamp of individualism and a political statement about how Barbie lives in all of us and it is our inner barbie we needed to cultivate and express!! I guess you could call it a”fairboybie” look. I loved it and immediately felt bad that I had not thought to bring a cowboy hat with me from Canada. I tugged at my own fairy wings as I watched her through the window … Continue reading “Lessons From The Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. The UnMowed Lawn.”

your own voice

Aria’s Life Lessons. Uncle Andrew was Hung Out to Dry.

ALLFK Uncle Andrew

This is your Uncle Andrew. He is famous.

The phrase “hung out to dry” came from him. Wikipedia does not fully understand what it was like to have Uncle Andrew in the family. We did not “abandon him when he was in danger or in need of help.” That may be what other people mean when they “hang someone out to dry,” but I have already taught you that other people don’t know anything.

We were helping him.

That there is compassion in action. NOT abandonment.

We hung him out and hosed him off because he used bacon grease to try and make war paint. He was never good at colouring in the lines and he basically painted his entire upper body with the stuff. The dogs were trying to eat him. So we hung him up for his own protection because Uncle Andrew was a little shit. In addition to the dogs who were trying to eat him, several of the adults wanted to demonstrate corporal punishment techniques and the neighbourhood children had taken out a hit list against him. Some kittens had mobbed together because they were sick of him trying to set them on fire. They wanted to punch him.

We were bully proofing him by putting him out of reach.

Sometimes your parents may “hang you out to dry.”  It will be for your own protection. You should thank them. Your Uncle Andrew is still alive because we cared.  You should be so lucky as to survive your childhood.

People make a big deal about this like we were bad parents. Notice that if you leave a kid by the side of the road, meaning someone really abandons him, no-one comes up with some nifty little saying to torture you with for eternity. We hung Uncle Andrew out to dry and now it is used as the poster phrase for abandoning someone in need of help. Boo hoo.  They don’t even ask you what happened to Little Brian. BTW you had another uncle named Brian too. Don’t really know what ever happened to him. We lost sight of him in the dust as we sped away.

Lessons from the Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. Fairies and Imaginary Friends.

red haired fairies

Today she is out in the backyard in a bright green fairy outfit with little wings that are kind of on her back and sort of on one butt cheek. Her hair is done up in double pony tails however their placement seems to have taken into consideration the displacement of the wings and is offsetting those so to keep her balanced. I have a feeling that the little red haired girl completely understands and pursues balance as an integral part of her daily routine.

Oh, and she is wearing bright yellow mud boots.

It is about 30° C today.

This is just the way a little red haired fairy rolls.

She is skipping and laughing, and talking to someone. I can’t see the person because well … I am neither a child, nor a fairy … but she alters between wagging her finger and instructing, to laughing and slapping her thighs as she leans forward and makes funny faces. Every once in awhile she falls over into the grass and starts to roll, gets carried away, and rolls and rolls until there is a little dust cloud as the grass is still recovering from the long winter. She gets up, dusts off her dress, adjusts her wings, checks that her pony’s are still there, and continues on. Continue reading “Lessons from the Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. Fairies and Imaginary Friends.”

Guys I Dated Men in Orange

BoBo on Sarah Sidle

Lavinia Speaks

Lavinia Upton Pinefoy speaks . . . again . . . still . . .even when no-one has asked her to . . . and no-one is listening . . .

Lavinia novelties

Lessons from the Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. The Soccer Ball.


Her father took her out to kick the soccer ball around the yard. She was suitably attired, she had some green tights on which actually suited a 4 year old … much better than 40 year olds whose legs stretch the fruit or cute little faces into some kind of grotesque monsters from another world . She wore a flowered top, her runners, and a black ball cap, which needed a lot of adjusting. She matched the swagger of her father, as they strode out into the yard. She swung her arms around and did some on the spot jumping to limber up. She was a quick study.

The father put the ball down and kicked it to her. She kicked it back. She jumped up and down, it was fun. He kicked it to her and she, concentrating, tongue out, thinking about which foot, changing it, focussed … and kicked it back.  Her dad had to run a little bit to get it but it was a good effort.

This time dad kicked the ball back and forth and bumped it with his knee before kicking it back towards the little red haired girl. She had been waiting patiently and being a good sport, she clapped for her dad’s amazing talent. She got the ball and focused, tongue in place and kicked it as hard as she could. Continue reading “Lessons from the Little Red Haired Girl Next Door. The Soccer Ball.”

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