The Blathering and Yammering

All of my journals. Blank. Also, someone’s pencil. Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

Welcome to a short yet drafty intro and index of my stuff, pinned to my profile because I can.

When I click on a writer’s profile page I’m only allowed to see a few stories. I have to click for more, wait…then more, wait…more, wait…

Back in the days that…


Clearly she needs a sweater. — Photo by Wilhelm Gunkel on Unsplash

“What are you doing.”

“Putting on pants.”

“You should sleep naked.”

As I slide each leg into my pajama pants, I think of something I’d read recently — keeping the sex life alive in a long term relationship with skin on skin intimacy.

“But I’m freezing.

“That’s not how it…


Unless you’re interested, you like it, and are compelled to engage of course.

It’s just poop, neighbors. Poop. — Photo by Siim Lukka on Unsplash

I’m sure I am not the first and I won’t be the last one to lay this rant egg. I’m just particularly cringed away from a Facebook group that’s evolved into a dumping ground for reciprocation begs.

Beginning with posting stories to the group’s feed, certain writers posted their stories…


definitely want the horse elixir for ‘gripes and fret’

https://unsplash.com/@dallehj

After watching a program about life on a Victorian Farm, what has stayed in my memory bank over the years is the small bottle they found in one of the farm’s horse barns. The label read, ‘For Gripes and Fret’.

Yes please! I’ll take about a dozen bottles. I wish…


and then they gave me garbage

https://unsplash.com/photos/z9z6u1rn7sY

First there is obsession.

I’m just minding my own business, cleaning or wishing my house would stay clean. I get a text of a link, Spotify or YouTube.

The sweet citizen of neurosis visits me then and I wait until I’m either in my car or can put my earbuds in to play this…


mental illness, psychosis, and keeping death at bay

Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

Our days before were precious, simple, full of joy. How I ache for your sadness, your madness, my beautiful boy.

“Just sitting here, waiting for heaven.”

I stare at his text as I often do when he answers more than, “yeah.” I want to ask him if he really took…


Photo by Dekeister Leopold on Unsplash

Let me live in my cave.

I do most of my shopping online. I grocery shop at the crack of dawn on weekends when nothing else is open and there are only a few other weirdos out like me.

Needless to say, but I will anyway because it’s my story…


https://unsplash.com/@laowai66

Long ago, stumbling into my 22nd year of life, I woke up one morning with a squirrel face. I had gotten a front tooth implant the day before, and was fairly sure my face was reacting to it. …


How about on backwards?

https://unsplash.com/photos/IoDIV8VOCmo?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditShareLink

My black dress slacks are so extremely comfortable and pleasing in every way possible that I have memorized the brand, buying 6 pair. They don’t shrink, don’t wrinkle and don’t fade. No button or zipper, just pull them on like an elegant yoga pant for the office — say what!?


Author’s pic of our summer fun, camping for the first time.

We wake up super early every day of the week regardless of any decent factor so that we may enjoy all of the benefits of waking up super early every day of the week.

Sunday morning, 5:30 a.m., Tim left on the boat to fish for a few hours. The…

Laura Johnson

Yammering bits and some blathering. Humor is my first language, my second skin, and my hello.

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