Sunday Photo Of The Week 9-23-2018

20170715_094757-1Picture csknotts 2018
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Question of the Day 9-21-2018

Please feel free to answer these questions on your blog or in the responses. If you leave me a link to your post, I will re-post it on my blog. You can also feel free to forward these questions to anybody who might be interested. Thank you to those who have already shared their thoughts.


If you are in a bad mood, do you prefer to be left alone or have somebody try to cheer you up?

This totally depends on what kind of bad mood I am wallowing in  As a general rule, I like to be alone at first, then gradually let somebody in to help push away the last of the bad mood. Or, hug a puppy or kitten.

 

Response – JSW Prompt 9-10-2018

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy. I will re-blog posts to my site.


20170715_095610.jpgPix by csk 2018

Chris stood by the blow-up pony, baseball cap pulled across his forehead. Beside him, Nancy tucked her hand inside his elbow. “You’ve made a little girl the happiest in the world.”

“What good is money if it doesn’t bring happiness?”

“You, Christin Allen, are just a big softie.”

He laughed. “That would ruin my rep.”

“Rock-n-Roll God?”

“Damn right.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her against his side. “I’ll prove that to you later.” Grinned.

Her stomach fluttered. Even after almost a year and a half, she still couldn’t believe Chris…. cared about her? Love? She didn’t know. He’d never said he loved her, but his actions pointed towards the fact. Still, she wouldn’t let herself believe anything beyond caring, not wanting to get hurt if he did, one day, just walk away.

She leaned against him, welcoming the warmth of his body – his touch, his smile, the wicked gleam in his eyes – even in the midst of a Kentucky summer vacation.

Ginny galloped up, waving a plastic horse in the air.

“Look who I got, Uncle Chris!” she yelled.  “Look!”

“Careful,” her mother called from behind, “Don’t take out an eye.”

She giggled, settling down as much as an 8-year-old could in fantasy-land.

Chris took the plastic pony and examined it closely. “Fine looking bit of horse-plastic,” he told her. “What’s its name?”

“Chris’ Flight of Fancy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, I’ll expect him to be the best horse around.”

Cradling the toy against her chest, she nodded solemnly.  “He will be, I promise.”

“Or the randiest,” Nancy whispered in his ear.

He looked at her. “Oh, you are so going to get it for that.”

“At least, it’s a stallion.”

Ginny grabbed his hand. “Come on, Uncle Chris, I want to see the Pony Barn.”

Letting her pull him away, he raised a hand in farewell to mother and daughter, happily following the little girl across the park.