SoCS – Comfort Food

comfort food

Growing up, we never had a lot—at times we would have been considered very poor—so we learned not to waste food. The rule in our household was if you took a second helping you were expected to finish it. We didn’t get punished physically, but got yelled at, so we usually pushed ourselves to finish even when full. The lesson was so ingrained we usually did the same if we got full before finishing the first helping.

By the time I was 16, however, food became more of a comfort and rebellion than a necessity. Because my abuser controlled everything else about my life, I took to eating more than I really wanted because the amount of food I ate was the one thing he couldn’t control.

Over the years I leaned more and more on my comfort foods of choice: chicken and dumplings (my favorite), meatloaf with mashed potatoes, pinto beans with cornbread, biscuits with heaps of cream gravy, chicken-fried steak (again with heaps of cream gravy), lasagna, and Mexican food. I used food to stuff down the feelings and anger I wasn’t able to deal with.

I’m doing better with portion control now, but these are still some of my favorite foods.

BTW, do you know the best way to assure good attendance at a meeting or event? Two words: FREE FOOD.


Stream of Consciousness Saturday is hosted by Linda G Hill

The QSM Magazine Issue #3 – The Indian Wedding Special!

Anand and his ancestor, Anandhotep, are hilarious. He is the first blogger I followed. His programming job sometimes keeps him too busy to post regularly, but the wait is always worth it.

Check out his blog, read his QSM magazines, and enjoy the laughter.

Anand's Parodies & Caricatures.

In the upcoming issue we lose ourselves in the  the biggest, the grandest, the sparkliest, the loudest wedding in the world! Here’s a short definition of this magnificent event.

Indian Wedding – A Definition
The Indian wedding is a fine-tuned but bug-riddled event in which two strangers become life partners; and which when successfully concluded, marks the biggest milestone in the lives of Indian parents. 

Coming Soon!

Subscribe now and win the opportunity to own your own (huh?) pdf copy of the QSM Magazine. 

I’ll let the cover do the talking.

The QSM Magazine - Issue 3 (fourth 4th issue) of India's best humor magazine - read parodies, satire, drama - Indian weddings special

They say don’t judge a book by its cover – but that’s how the story of an Indian wedding begins, by judging someone by his or her picture – and quite often it succeeds. The way it succeeded for Mom and Dad. According to Mom, “You can ride a potholed road together in a bullock cart and not fall in love…

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SoCS – 2/20/2016 – Ain’t


Ain’t is such a little word but it is used a lot, especially in Texas and the south. My high school English teacher was a real stickler for proper language. Mrs. Pyles hated the word ain’t with a passion. You were guaranteed a lower grade on a paper if you used ain’t, regardless how well the paper was written otherwise. She also didn’t take kindly to having it pointed out by our class smartass that ain’t was actually in the Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary in the library. She got a bit red-faced and said that she didn’t care what Mr. Webster had written, ain’t was not proper English.

Although ain’t was first used in 1749, it was considered the habitual speech of the less educated or uneducated. Today, ain’t is found throughout English-speaking countries in all regions and classes; it is one of the most pervasive non-standard terms in English. It is one of two negation features (the other being the double negative) that are known to appear in all non-standard English dialects. Ain’t is used throughout the United Kingdom and throughout the United States, with its geographical distribution increasing over time. In its geographical ubiquity, ain’t is to be contrasted with other folk usages such as y’all, which is confined to the South region of the United States.

It is the only contraction that can be used for any of eight word duos:

  • am not; are not; is not  [Example: It’s a free country, ain’t it?]
  • have not, has not  [Example: Those people ain’t got a clue]
  • do not; does not; did not   [Example: Her husband left and she ain’t got a clue how to pay bills.]

The following is verbatim from Merriam-Webster Dictionary:

Usage Discussion of ain’t

Although widely disapproved as nonstandard and more common in the habitual speech of the less educated, ain’t in senses 1 and 2 is flourishing in American English. It is used in both speech and writing to catch attention and to gain emphasis <the wackiness of movies, once so deliciously amusing, ain’t funny anymore — Richard Schickel> <I am telling you—there ain’t going to be any blackmail — R. M. Nixon>. It is used especially in journalistic prose as part of a consistently informal style <the creative process ain’t easy — Mike Royko>. This informal ain’t is commonly distinguished from habitual ain’t by its frequent occurrence in fixed constructions and phrases <well—class it ain’t — Cleveland Amory> <for money? say it ain’t so, Jimmy! — Andy Rooney> <you ain’t seen nothing yet> <that ain’t hay> <two out of three ain’t bad> <if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it>. In fiction ain’t is used for purposes of characterization; in familiar correspondence it tends to be the mark of a warm personal friendship. It is also used for metrical reasons in popular songs <Ain’t She Sweet> <It Ain’t Necessarily So>. Our evidence shows British use to be much the same as American.


Stream of Consciousness Saturday is hosted by Linda G Hill

FFftPP #7 – Twins

FFftPP #7 - Black Lab

Alina hurried to answer the door before the sound of the doorbell woke the baby.

There on her porch stood a gorgeous, long-haired blonde with two little ones by her side.

Forgetting about the sleeping baby, Alina hollered, “Joe, get your sorry ass in here now!”

Joe came in from the bedroom and barked at her, “What do you want!?” Then he saw the visitors.

“I hope you don’t think those two are mine,” Joe protested. “I was telling the truth about not chasing women.”

“You liar! They look like you, just as the others did!”

“For the thousandth time, I promise you, it wasn’t me!” Joe declared.

Before Alina could toss Joe out the door, his twin brother Jack came in from the back of the house. “Hey, Joe, why don’t we . . .” His words trailed off as he caught sight of the blonde.

One of the little ones wobbled over to Jack and, looking up at him solemnly, asked “Are you my daddy?” Jack gulped and keeled over in a faint.

Alina sighed, apologized to Joe, and wondered yet again why she had to live on a planet with talking animals.

This was written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner, Week 7. For more stories from this week, click on the blue frog below.

FFfAW #52 – The Gift

FFfAW #52 - The Gift

As Jenny reached for the coffeepot, she noticed the note on the handle.

I’ve gone to play golf with Bud, but I haven’t forgotten it’s Valentine’s Day. Follow the clues to get your gift. You’ll find the first clue at the red bench where we met.

Intrigued, she quickly dressed and left the house. When she reached their red bench, she found a small card taped underneath. The card read your next clue is at Betty’s.

At Betty’s Cupcake Heaven, a young woman holding a heart-shaped cupcake greeted her. “You must be Jenny,” she said, then handed her the cupcake and said, “Enjoy.”

When Jenny bit into the cupcake she felt the piece of paper hidden within. The instructions inside read your gift is waiting for you at Watson’s Flowers.

Interesting way to give me flowers, she thought, but shrugged and drove to Watson’s.

When she opened the door of the flower shop, her heart nearly stopped. There, standing beside her husband and holding a dozen roses, was their son, back from Afghanistan.

I wrote this for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers #52. Thanks to Ady for the photo prompt and to PricelessJoy for providing the forum. Click on the blue frog to read more stories.


FFftPP #6 – Oh, Deer!

Clark jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Geez, man, you’re awfully jumpy,” his friend Jack said. “You feeling guilty about something?”

“No, that deer head on the wall gives me the willies. I keep expecting it to start talking.”

Jack laughed. “What do you expect it to say? ‘You lookin’ at me?'”

“How did that thing end up on your wall, anyway?” Clark asked.

“It’s from the only hunting trip I ever went on. An old classmate of mine was a hunter and had been after me for a long time to go with him on his annual hunting trip and I finally did.”

“You didn’t like hunting, huh?”

“I liked hunting okay; I just didn’t have the heart to go again after my classmate died on the trip.”

Clark winced, thinking me and my big mouth. “Sorry to hear that, mate.”

“Thanks. Now, are you going to deal or keep jawing?” Jack said.

As he sat down, Jack glanced at the antlers that were still tinged with the blood of his old classmate. It was a good thing the deer head couldn’t talk.

Best $20 he ever spent at a garage sale.

This was written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner, Week #6. This is a weekly writing challenge of 200 words or less using both a photo prompt and an opening sentence/topic. Why don’t you “hop” on over and view some of the other stories then try your own hand at the challenge?

Click on the Blue Frog to read other stories.

FFfAW #51 – Parts

FFftAW 51 - Parts

I don’t know how I could have missed it, Alan thought as he pulled to the side of the road to double-check his map and directions.

He’d gotten a lead on headlamp lenses for a 1937 Ford he was rehabbing, but either the directions were wrong or he hadn’t written them down correctly. He’d been driving on back roads for 30 minutes without seeing any sign of a salvage yard.

He pulled back on the road and had driven less than a mile when a flash of blue caught his attention. He turned into the drive and saw someone under the hood of an old pickup.

Getting out and walking towards the figure, he said, “Excuse me, I wonder if you could help me?”

A grunt came from under the hood.

“I’m trying to find McDougal’s Salvage or Jesse McDougal.”

There was a mumbled curse, the figure rose from under the hood and turned towards Alan.

“I’m Jessie McDougal,” said the emerald-eyed redhead as she wiped grease from her hands.

Alan forgot all about car parts.

This story is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers #51. The photo prompt for this week came from Pixabay.