Tell Me A Story 2014

Another year of me blathering on endlessly has come to a close. What in Bast’s name have I been on about anyway?

Last January I visited the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, a joint I REALLY wanted to love (and didn’t) but at least I found an awesome pizza joint and had fun with an old chum.

I met the fabulous Sandy Jimenez and had the chance to talk with him about Marley Davidson and more. Awesome!

In February I gave myself a little credit for not being too much a wretched hack artist and talked about the direction in which my painting seemed to be heading.

I had some less than delightful memories, talked about poop and reported on our squadron of cats. Always with the cats, eh?

March gave rise to Eight Handy Dandy Communication Tips for communicating with your beloved deafy. That'd be me, duh. Study up chums — there'll be a quiz!

I raved about books and independent bookstores. Specifically Martin Millar’s Kalix series and the one off Good Fairies of New York. I’m eagerly and impatiently awaiting the US release of his latest The Goddess of Buttercups and Daisies.

I asked myself, yet again, is baby making a biological imperative, even in the face of Nf2? And then I became an evil step grandmother — a long held dream, don’cha know.

And I had a good rant.

As Mister Simon sez
April come she will
When streams are ripe
And swelled with rain

It also brought more rants and kvetches about my horrid state of fuddy-duddy unfashionableness.

I realized, in the merry month of May that I was, strangely, finally stratospherically livid about this Nf2 shit. Took me long enough, eh?

June saw a two pronged rant about momsters and a stupid, radically clueless Facebook meme of theirs.

In July I was at Revere Beach for the fabulous sand sculpture competition.

August was about Fiestas, great art and my utter poverty of good hair.

There was good news and bad as Autumn homed in on me.

Dan West bid adieu to this fine blue world in September. We weren’t close but his exit stage left was/is deeply felt. He was my comrade warrior in the con brio, con risate struggle against our respective afflictions. 

October was full of love stories and travel.

There were more love stories in November including a surprise, chance meeting (on line) with Kevin’s beloved childhood sweetheart.

And now we've come to December with its reunions, cat miracles, and more rants about the ostentatiously rich and their devotees.

Which brings us to the door of the new year. What's on tap for The Amazing Bob and I on this most festive of nights? The usual. We'll have dinner with Jen and Oni, play Scrabble, watch a movie and be tucked under our warm duvet — asleep well before the witching hour strikes.

We're fabulously exciting folk like that but I'm sure this comes as no surprise. Hmmm?

So mes amis, i miei amici, arkadaşlarım, meine freunde I'll bet a lot of you have interesting stories and I'd LOVE to read and post em right here at Tell Me a Story. Drop me a line at donna dot maderer at gmail dot com.

Let's chat, K?