Wednesday, November 27, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

We're starting MOVIE WEEKEND early because we have a long weekend coming up and not everyone watches football or goes shopping. I certainly won't go shopping, but if Willy Dunne Wooters wants to watch just a little football, I can use the time to decorate my Christmas tree. Or I can sit next to him and make fun of the game.

I know this is supposed to be MOVIE weekend, but for today, please pardon the interruption while I present a TV series I love. It's called Derek (available on Netflix Screaming or British Channel 4 You Tube site at ).

Netflix calls Derek a Netflix Original Series, but it's not. It was already on in the U.K., and now the first seven episodes are available on Screaming. It's been renewed for another season, but I hardly think seven shows constitutes an entire season. The ONLY seven episodes is a complaint on my part, because I love Derek.

Derek (Ricky Gervais), who's maybe not all there, works in a nursing home as a caregiver. I know we're accustomed to comedy with Ricky Gervais, but this show is a dramady. It's sweet and sentimental. Some people might think it's sickeningly sentimental, but Derek is so honest and openly loving and sincere that I don't find the show too sweet at all. Having worked in a nursing home, I adore seeing a show in which the people who work in this home truly love the residents and take good care of them.

I wish I could recommend this show for your entire family, but I can't because of the profanity and the occasional sexual innuendo. Teens might watch with you, but you should check it out first. The show makes a good teaching tool: The elderly are human beings. They might need diapers and they don't get around too well, but they are people deserving of our care and caring.

I like all the characters in Derek, especially Hannah (Kerry Godliman), who seems to be in charge of the home and is absolutely devoted to her job, to the point that it interferes with her romantic life. I like the little bit of romance, and I particularly like seeing a character who will end her date with a handsome man because a resident of the home is dying.

Yes, death is part of Derek, and it's handled delicately and lovingly. I really like an episode in which a daughter visits her mother only because she wants the mother's wedding ring. The daughter is told a thing or two by a staff member.

Derek earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval. You can easily watch all seven episodes in one day, maybe while you're digesting your turkey.

Happy viewing, and I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

It's not too late to enter my giveaway. It's open to residents of the U.S., the U.K., Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Prizes are books, Amazon gift cards, an Editor's Tip t-shirt, and $150 worth of editing by me.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, November 26, 2013


As part of my one thousandth post celebration, I promised that I would publish my top ten most popular posts, but also share some older posts that didn't get as much attention. And Summer Will Not Come Again first appeared on my blog on June 12, 2010. You might recognize the title, as it's the same as that of a well-known short story by Sylvia Plath. Get a tissue. You might wipe your eyes a bit after you read this one. 

Gentle Readers,

Robin has come here to live.

Robin has come here to die.

Robin is some sort of bulldog mix. She has had I don't know how many litters of puppies. She has a terrible limp. She has a scar around her neck from being chained. Her ribs are sticking out.

And she has cancer. About four months to live, according to the vet.

My son's young lady love wants her to know what happiness is before she dies, and I think she already has it figured out.

Happiness is curling up in a chair in the family room and getting your tummy scratched.

Happiness is regular meals.

Happiness is a fenced in back yard where you can run with the other dogs and feel free but safe.

Happiness is batting at Mom's arm when she's reading to make sure Mom doesn't forget you for one second and you don't get in trouble for wanting attention.

Happiness is getting into Mom's bed at night and cuddling up as close to Mom as you can get.

I named her Robin because it is still spring. Summer will arrive soon, but right now, at this moment, it is still spring and the robins return in the spring.

So Robin has come to us during the spring. We will see her through the summer and care for her and give her all the love she wants and needs.

Then when fall arrives and it is time for the dying that precedes winter, we will see Robin through her death and we will make sure the death is as calm and gentle as possible.

Robin, you are loved.

Robin, this is what happiness is.

I am so glad you are here.



Monday, November 25, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

We all need help sometimes, and I need YOUR help right now. My (former) mother-in-law will celebrate her 80th birthday during December, and I want to send her 80 birthday cards. So I'm asking my neighbors and friends and lovers (well, lover) and all of you in the blogosphere to send me a birthday card to pass on to Margaret.

Some of you have already volunteered, but I need more help to get to 80.

Let me tell you a little bit about Margaret. She had an unusually difficult childhood, but she worked hard and earned a master's degree in education. For a long time I thought that she and my father-in-law hated me because X told me they did. It wasn't true. We could have had a great relationship for years if X hadn't messed it up.

A few days after X left me, I called my in-laws to tell them. They were very upset and immediately offered me financial help. My father-in-law has since passed away, but I stay in touch with Margaret. She has been unfailingly kind to me, and extremely generous with my children. I cry for the years of estrangement we experienced, yet I rejoice in having a good relationship with her now.

If you can't afford a card or a stamp, then please let me know and I will send you a birthday card and a stamp. You don't have to sign your full name. You don't have to put your return address on the envelope. You can maintain your privacy, but it would be nice if you'd write a short note, such as Happy Birthday, Margaret, or, Best Wishes to you on your special day, Margaret.

Margaret is the kind of person who likes sweet, sentimental cards–especially cards with a Christian theme. She is devoted to God and always prays for my friends when I ask her to do so.

Moreover, by sending a card to Margaret, you can earn ten entries in my giveaway. Yes, TEN entries. That's how important this is to me. I really want to honor Margaret on her birthday, and I think this is a cool way to do it.

Prizes in the giveaway are three books I edited, or assisted in editing; an Editor's Tip t-shirt, your choice of style, size, and color; two $25 Amazon gift cards; and $150 worth of editing performed by me. If you win a prize and don't want it, you can always give it to someone else.

The giveaway is open to residents of the U.S., Canada, the U.K., and Australia, and now extended to New Zealand. So c'mon and jump in. The water is fine. You might earn a prize, and you'll be doing a good deed.

Send birthday cards for Margaret to

Janie Goltz
PO Box 61371
Jacksonville FL 32236

Heeeeeeeelp! And thank you for your kind attention. You know, if you've already sent a card, please feel free to send another one. I have a long way to go to get to 80 cards, just as Margaret has walked a long path to reach 80 years of life.

Infinities of love,
Janie Junebug

Friday, November 22, 2013


As promised, I'm presenting my top ten most popular posts as part of my one thousandth post celebration. This post was first published on March 5, 2013. Four hundred fifty people viewed "HOW I GOT TO BE SO FAMOUS THAT I'M ON WIKIPEDIA". 

Here's #9 on my top ten hits list:

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Once upon a time, I was a lonely dumped first wife and a lonely blogger. I had a few followers, and then for the longest time, I had 13 followers.

I cried out, How come I have only 13 followers?

And my friends came to the rescue. Legal Mist (who no longer blogs as often as I want her to) gave me advice, and Cinderita (who no longer blogs as often as I want her to) promoted me on her blog. One by one, you came to visit me, and we became friends.

Now I have 159 followers. One of them is the famous author and publisher EC Stilson, who blogs at The Crazy Life Of A Writing Mom. I was intrigued by her because of her great writing and because I noticed that her friends called her Elisa in their comments.

Elisa! That was my Norwegian grandmother's name. I had never met anyone else named Elisa.

Gradually, my new Elisa and I got to know each other better and better, and when Elisa started Wayman Publishing, she let me come along on the roller coaster ride. She knew I used to be a newspaper reporter and editor, so she asked me to edit some of Wayman's books.

I edited Homeless In Hawaii by EC Stilson, True Nonsense by Melynda Fleury (another great friend), and the soon-to-be released The Blogger's Survival Guide: Tips and Tricks for Parent Bloggers, Wordsmiths and Enthusiasts by Lexie Lane and Becky McNeer.

As I edited books, Elisa and I started talking on our cell phones, sometimes several times per week. We realized that she is exactly the right age to be my middle child.

When my no longer a wedding anniversary rolled around last summer, I was sad, but Elisa suggested that we make that day a new anniversary: It morphed into the happy anniversary of the day she became my Middle Child and I became her Mother From Another Planet.

Now, Elisa is so spectacular that Wikipedia has an entry about her at And she's put me on the carousel with her.

Here's the relevant paragraph: In 2011 Morris was fortunate to meet Dee Ready,[4] a well-known editor and bestselling author previously published through Crown, Janie Goltz,[5] a former newspaper reporter and editor, Joshua Carstens,[6] who’d just graduated with an MA in professional writing, Lexie Lane, a well-known mompreneur, and Fran Fischer, a retired legal editor. It was from the support of these key people that Morris found the strength and knowledge to found Wayman Publishing[7].

The footnote leads to my LinkedIn Profile. 

I can't believe I'm on Wikipedia!

I may not be the most successful person in my family, but I think I'm the first to make it to Wikipedia; and it's all because Elisa is so generous and loving. 

But perhaps the most interesting part of this story is that Elisa and I have yet to meet face-to-face. In fact, I've only met one other blogger in person. So many of you out there are so extremely important in my life, and sometimes I'm afraid I'll never get to see your faces and tell you in person how much you mean to me. 

So I have to do the best I can right here, saying I LOVE YOU ALL!

One thing kind of irritates me, though. The Hurricane met Elisa. The Hurricane attended a math conference at a university in Salt Lake City. Elisa was right up the street, holding a book signing. My two girls got to go out to lunch together.

Ever since then, The Hurricane has told me over and over and over, Elisa is so sweet; Elisa is so pretty; Elisa is so nice. 

I'm so jealous that if The Hurricane weren't super strong from rowing crew, I would probably put duct tape over her mouth.

Sisters By Choice

Elisa, thank you for inviting me to join you on this journey. 

I swear: We will meet, and I will hug you and all your adorable children.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug, who is on Wikipedia, thanks to Elisa

Update: Middle Child and I met in person a few months ago. I spent a few days staying with her and her adorable children. She's had a great deal of turmoil in her life since then and is no longer blogging regularly. I miss you, Middle Child!

Thursday, November 21, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present for your consideration Carrie Fisher's one woman autobiographical show, Wishful Drinking (2010, Originally Filmed for HBO, Available On DVD).

Though wistful and poignant at times, this film of Carrie Fisher's autobiographical stage show is also hilariously funny and very intelligent.

Fisher's life has been filled with celebrities (she's the daughter of movie star Debbie Reynolds and recording star Eddie Fisher). Fisher insists that when her mother calls, she always says, This is your mother, Debbie Reynolds. Fisher also tells quite a few stories about starring as Princess Leia in Star Wars. She says she weighed 105 pounds when filming started, but was told to lose ten pounds because her face was too broad. She then shows a photo of her ridiculous Princess Leia hairdo that, ironically, made her face look wider.

Normally, I don't think of addiction as amusing, but Carrie Fisher makes it very funny:

Carrie Fisher: You know how they say "Religion is the opiate of the masses?" Well I took masses of opiates religiously!

I laughed out loud multiple times while watching this show. It's kind of difficult to describe the interesting set, the great writing, and Fisher's excellent performance. But I think if you give this film a chance, many of you will enjoy it. It's not for children, but you can consider it for teens about 14 and older.

Wishful Drinking earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval.

May the force be with you.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

As I publish this post, you have 23 days and 15 hours left to enter my giveaway. If you follow my blog, you can have one entry every single darn day. You can earn five entries for becoming a new follower and then get the regular follower entry each day. Prizes include books, Amazon Gift Cards, a t-shirt, and $150 worth of editing by The Queen of Grammar.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

As you may have noticed, I'm celebrating the recent publication of my one thousandth post with a GIVEAWAY! Woot! I even figured out the Rafflecopter thingamabob. It's at the top of my blog, under my profile picture. I'm accepting entries now!

And, no, I will not give away Franklin.

I figured some details about the Giveaway might be helpful.

It's open to residents of the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia. Here's a copy of the Rafflecopter, just in case you don't see it on the page:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

You can enter until midnight, December 15th. I hope to get prizes out to you in time for Christmas, so you can give the prize to yourself or use it as a gift for someone else.

Here are the prizes to be had, Dear Hearts:

One softcover copy each of three books I've edited or assisted in editing:

Day Laughs, Night Cries by Peaches Ledwidge:

Homeless In Hawaii by EC Stilson:

The latest release on which I worked, Cleft Heart: Chasing Normal by Karl Schonborn:

Also up for grabs, two Amazon gift cards, each worth $25; one Editor's Tip t-shirt from Janie Junebug's Tease (you get to choose the style, color, and size; and, last, but I hope not least, $150 worth of editing by Janie Junebug. I'll go over a WIP, a finished novel or story, help you write your profile for a dating site – I just won't work with porn.

Entering is easy:
  • One entry each day if you follow my blog
  • One entry for becoming a new follower on Twitter (@JanieJunebug)
  • One entry each day for leaving a comment on my blog post
  • One entry each day for tweeting about the giveaway
  • FIVE entries for becoming a new follower of my blog (please don't stop following and then start again to become a new follower–that's kind of snarky)
  • Five entries for writing a blog post about the giveaway
  • TEN entries for sending a birthday card to my mother-in-law, who will celebrate her 80th birthday during December. Within the next day or two, I should be able to provide the post office box to which you can send the card. I would love to have 80 cards to pass on to her. 
If you don't want to enter the giveaway, but you're willing to send a card to my mother-in-law (a very special lady), then please email me at for the PO Box. You'll send the card to me; I'll open the cards to make sure some evil-doer doesn't try to send something nasty; then I'll send the cards to my MIL, whose name is Margaret. She's the kind of person who enjoys sweet, sentimental cards. It will really mean a lot to me if you send a birthday card to Margaret. She doesn't read my blog. I look forward to surprising her.

Please email me if you have any questions.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Willy Dunne Wooters wants you to enter, too. Willy Dunne Wooters and Bradley Cooper are friends. Isn't that cool?

Tuesday, November 19, 2013


As promised, I'm presenting my top ten most popular posts as part of my one thousandth post celebration. This post was first published on April 12, 2012. Four hundred three people viewed "DEAR RYAN GOSLING". Isn't it amazing that Ryan Gosling looks so much like Willy Dunne Wooters? Maybe writing about Ryan helped bring WDW into my life.

Here's #10 on my top ten hits list:

Dear Ryan Gosling,

I think you are quite a hotling.

Although you're not Johnny Depp, oh, baby, kiss the back of my neck.

You're the same age as my son. I bet you're a lotta fun.

Some people might think I'm a doddering old fool, but oh, Ryan, I can be pretty cool in my high boots and my short skirt. C'mon. Let's get drunk and flirt.

Ryan, as an older more experienced girl, I don't mind giving you a whirl. I can even take you to school. You'll find this teacher is no fool.

Ryan, I fell in love with you when I first saw Lars and The Real Girl. You were so quietly sweet.

Then last year, in Crazy, Stupid, Love, you had The Hurricane and me in heat.

And now I've seen you twice in the last two weeks. In Drive and The Ides of March, you cannot be beat.

In Drive, you bash in a few heads. Some characters end up dead. But you don't truly want to kill them. You're simply protecting your woman.

You're so idealistic in The Ides of March. Idealistic and smart. You know how to get your way, and keep George Clooney's character at bay.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, dear Ryan Gosling. You are quite the hotling.

Infinities of Gosling love,

Janie Junebug

Monday, November 18, 2013


Welcome to Post #1,000, Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Grab a glass of champagne and let's drink to many more posts to come!

Ah, I wish I had a dollar for every time I've been asked, Who is Maxwell?

We've been through so much together in these 1,000 posts. Faulkner died. X and I went through with the divorce. Franklin became a member of our little family. I adopted Middle Child. Scout died. Willy Dunne Wooters joined us. I've been down many times, and with your help, managed to rise just like this balloon:

What would I do without you? Blogging for a couple of people was okay in the beginning, but it's more fun now with 188 of you.

But many bloggers have come and gone, including Maxwell. I miss each and every one of you who has taken off for parts unknown. I'm grateful that some people who stopped blogging have stayed in touch with me. I'm grateful for the many telephone conversations I've shared with some of you, the emails we've exchanged, the letters sent back and forth (because some of us are old fashioned and like getting a letter in the mail), and, especially, for the excellent advice you've given me, along with a lot of encouragement. I'm just plain grateful for all of you.

You've tolerated my whining about grammar. You've purchased books I recommended and never once complained that you wasted your money. You've praised my poetry. You've given me a new career in editing. I've never met most of you, yet I'm closer to you than I am to my so-called relatives.

We have a connection. Sometimes the connection breaks, and it has to be replaced. A new blogger comes along to replace someone who has quit. I miss the old, but embrace the new.

You tolerate my pretensions. You tell me I'm funny when I don't think I am. You very kindly praise my writing.

You wouldn't know me if you saw me walking down the street (unless you've memorized the golden tresses on the back of my head), but you are my buds, my pals, my sisters, my advisers, my friends.

Where do we stand now? As of this moment, 104,738 page views.

I don't know why you put up with me, but you do, and I'm glad.

My blog is fishducky approved, and it was fishducky who gave me my Grammar Police Badge. I post it with pride.

What can you look forward to in the next 1,000 posts?

Well, first, I don't think I'll stop blogging because it's my therapy. If all I do is write a post that says, I don't have anything to tell you, then I'll still write that post rather than drop out of the world. Second, coming up as quickly as I can make it happen, I want to have a giveaway. I think it will be related, at least in part, to my editing.

While I'm figuring out that rafflecopter thingy, I'm going to mix in some old posts with some new posts. I know you need Movie Weekend. I won't deprive you of it. But I'm going to re-run my ten most popular posts, and I want you to take a look at some early posts that one or two people read and no one commented on them. Sometimes I think I was a better blogger then.

It's probably my imagination.

Thank you, and God bless your sweet hearts. Giveaway (I hope) and most popular posts coming up very soon.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. I don't think I've ever told you this, but I close my posts with "infinities of love" because that's how my beloved Jane Austen signed her letters to her sister, Cassandra.

Oh! Sorry, but one more thing. Willy Dunne Wooters wants to tell you something:

And I love it that so many of you join me in loving Downton Abbey.

See ya on the flip side.

Thursday, November 14, 2013


Update: Franklin gave up his usual Friday post so I can write Post #1,000 on Monday. Celebrate!

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present for your consideration a Lifetime movie called Ring of Fire (2013, Available on DVD).

Some of you may recall the excellent bio-pic, Walk The Line, about Johnny Cash, including his great love affair with his second wife, June Carter Cash. Reese Witherspoon won the Best Actress Academy Award for playing June, and Joaquin Phoenix is excellent as Johnny. Both performers learned to sing and play instruments for the movie.

Now we have Ring of Fire, which purports to be a drama told from June's point of view about Johnny (Matt Ross) and June's (Jewel) very dramatic relationship, which was made even more dramatic by Johnny's drug addiction. The problem is that the movie isn't dramatic. In fact, it's pretty boring. Matt Ross (never heard of him before) makes a lousy Johnny Cash. Jewel isn't much better as June.

This movie not only lacks bite; it doesn't have any teeth. Ross and Jewel look especially ridiculous when they're made up to be the aging performers.

I don't watch Lifetime movies because they tend to be schmaltzy and dumb. I put Ring of Fire in my Netflix queue because it was nominated for some Emmy awards, winning none. But I hoped it would be better than the average Lifetime movie, and I love Johnny Cash–and June. I ended up disappointed.

Ring of Fire earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Don't Waste Your Time.

If you want to see a good movie, watch Walk The Line, which earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval. If you've seen it before, it's worth watching a second time or even a third. I haven't viewed it in quite a while, so I think I'll check it out again. It will take the bad taste of Ring of Fire out of my brain (call me Mrs. Malaprop).

Happy Viewing of whatever you might choose!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Wednesday, November 13, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Don't even think of giving me a hard time about bringing up the C word because John Gray used it last week at Going Gently, a blog you should read if you want to laugh and feel good.

I'm talking C word to be of assistance to you because I think I'm done with my Christmas shopping, and I figure the rest of you can use some help.

Look at the way the woman in this photo is carrying all this crap and smiling. The only reason to go out shopping and carry around a bunch of crap and smile is if you bought it all for yourself. The hell with everyone else.

But if you feel, as I do, that some pleasure can be gained from giving gifts to friends and relatives, then do as I do:

10. If you haven't started shopping yet, then you might as well give up.

9. Another option is to start shopping now, as in the minute you finish reading this post.

8. Make a list, check it twice, don't give to the naughty, only the nice, because the naughty are all those bastards who have been rude to you all year.

7. Shop online as much as possible, but make sure you use reputable sites, such as Amazon.

6. Consider gift cards for people who don't like anything and are never satisfied, or maybe you don't know what they need or want. A grocery store gift card can be very welcome.

5. If you must enter a store, do it now. I went in a few stores to purchase a couple of things I couldn't find online. I did it about 10 days ago. From now on, the only store I will enter until after Christmas is the grocery store, and I'll go there only because Willy Dunne Wooters likes to eat. I don't care if I eat.

4. For people you like a lot, consider personal handmade gifts. Some pretty cool etsy shops are out there: Jenny Matlock's handpainted signs at; Amanda Ax's beautiful, well-made jewelry at LaylasTrinkets; and adorable Geek Chic and cartoon character aprons, pot holders, and make-up rolls at Haute Mess Threads. (By the way, I'm not receiving anything for promoting these shops.)

3. If you have time and want to do something sweet, bake a gift, such as Christmas cookies or a pie (Not you, Mayor Gia; I love you, but your baking looks kinda iffy to me). If you think you can't bake till the last minute because you have to give baked goods while they're fresh, "then you've got another think coming, ole girl" (My mom said that all the time. I HATED IT, BUT SHE'S STILL IN MY HEAD AFTER SO MANY YEARS DEAD). Lots of cookies can be frozen and then put in pretty tins for delivery about a week before Christmas.

2. If you can't afford to buy gifts, then win them at giveaways. Lots of bloggers have giveaways. You can vote for Nicki Elson in a jousting tournament that M. Pax is having by commenting at Vote for Nicki by using the words "Lady Elson," "Divine," and "Three" in your comment and you'll be entered to win some cool stuff. Linda at Practical Parsimony  also is having a giveaway. Of course, you can't exactly count on winning stuff in a giveaway, so have a backup plan, such as admitting the truth: I love you, but I can't afford to buy gifts this year. You can find good prices on ebay, too. Don't tell The Hurricane, but I'm giving her a book by Anna Quindlen, autographed by Ms. Anna Quindlen, that I purchased on ebay for 1.99 plus shipping. She won't care that the book is used since it's autographed and in excellent condition. Last year I wanted to give Favorite Young Man all The Sopranos DVDs. He'd never seen that show. Can you believe it? I saw the complete collection on Groupon for a good price, but looked on ebay and found them brand new for half the cost of the Groupon. When buying on ebay, look at the sellers' ratings: Do they ship quickly? Do they describe products accurately?

1. Donate to a charity in someone's name. Many charities will send cards to people, saying "A Gift Has Been Made In Your Honor." You can look online to find reputable charities. Making a donation is especially good for people who have children, whether they're making the gift, or it's made in their honor. It's never too soon to learn about kindness.

0. DO NOT GIVE A DOG OR CAT FOR CHRISTMAS, ESPECIALLY TO CHILDREN. Puppies and kittens look awfully cute among the wrapping paper on Christmas morning, but animals require a lifetime commitment. Don't expect kids to be responsible for complete care of a pet. If you want a dog and/or cat, wait until after Christmas, and then ADOPT.

So now you have a general idea of how I get my Christmas shopping done so easily, but know this for next year: I start during the summer. When I see something that would make a good gift, especially if the price is right, I snatch it up. The gifts are in my closet. I'll be mailing presents soon. I hope to be done mailing gifts by the week after Thanksgiving. Christmas cards (I don't send many) should be in the mail by Dec. 10th.

All righty, then. Get out there and complete your tasks. You have five minutes to make a list before you self-destruct.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, November 12, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

A lot has happened with the painting and organizing Favorite Young Man and I have started in my little house. I'm grateful for the good and the bad.

First, I must admit I seldom remember to take BEFORE pictures, so I guess the AFTER pictures are less striking.

Let's start with the entry to my house. I remembered to take the BEFORE pictures here:

So dull and bland, don't you think? Then Favorite Young Man painted. Instead of calling this area the entry, I think it now deserves to be called the foyer. When Willy Dunne Wooters first saw it, he said, It's so bright and cheerful.

I agree completely.

I have three large shelves in my bathroom. I organized the bottom two. Take my word for it, they looked quite pitiful before.

Sadly, I didn't take photos of the kitchen before Favorite Young Man painted it. It was kind of a pea green. It didn't look right with white cabinets and the white tile back splash and black counters. You can see only a sliver of its beautiful new red paint in the following photo. I took this shot mostly so you can see what I'm up against in the kitchen. Kitchen, you are on notice: You're being organized. Also, you can see a bit of these cubby hole thingies that are on two sides of a corner cabinet. I've never been able to figure out what they're for, so I had something cutesy – such as my miniature Tupperware – in the front of each one. It was wasted space.

The cubby hole thingies are now organized. It's the one part of the kitchen that's finished, other than the paint. The thingies now hold stuff like mugs, salt and pepper shakers, a butter dish, oven mitts, yada.

Now, here's the tale of the bad thing that happened over the weekend, but I'm grateful that I discovered it before it got worse.

I have a "linen" closet in the hall near the extra bathroom – the bathroom that's for everybody except me. I'm very territorial about my bathroom – the mistress bath. I seldom get anything out of the hall closet. It held extra linens and some large kitchenware. As part of the kitchen reorganization, I knew that the closet had to be organized and relieved of its kitchenware. Kitchen stuff belongs in the kitchen.

On Saturday while Willy Dunne Wooters was watching college football, I decided to take everything out of the hall closet. I found a problem quite quickly: two holes in the wall on one side and droppings all over the closest shelf.

Willy Dunne Wooters checked it out and said, Oh, some little mice got in there.

I said, You're just trying to make me feel better. A rat has been in that closet, and his name is not X.

I had to throw out some papers I'd stored in the closet because they were covered in rat poop. I felt sick when disposing of these items. It's not that I needed the papers. It's that A RAT HAS BEEN IN MY HOUSE! I'm very surprised, but very grateful, that it did not make its way down to the bottom of the closet and run out from under the door to search for food and water. Perhaps it sensed the presence of the dogs.

I looked online to find out how to plug the holes in the wall. The next day Willy Dunne Wooters and I made a trip to Lowe's for supplies, and Willy Dunne Wooters plugged the holes while I cooked dinner.

I'm in the process of washing all the linens that were in the closet. As they come out of the dryer, I fold them and organize them nicely in the closet.

Willy Dunne Wooters thinks a rat came up from the crawl space into the area where the plumbing is for the public bathroom and then chewed the holes so he could take a look at the closet.

I'm very grateful for Willy Dunne Wooters' help, and I'm going to post a sign for the rats:

That's right, rats. Calmly remove yourselves from the crawl space under my house and get the hell out of here. Otherwise, Harper will dispose of you, and believe me, you won't like it.

So that's where we stand, or sit, or lie, depending on how tired we are. I'm grateful to Favorite Young Man for painting. I'm grateful I discovered the problem in the closet before it got worse (and I'll be checking that closet regularly for new holes). I'm grateful to Willy Dunne Wooters for helping out with the repairs to the closet and for trying to help me feel better.

I'm just a big ole bundle of gratitude.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. This post is #997. I haven't worked on the giveaway yet. Haven't had time, what with the rat invasion.

Friday, November 8, 2013


Hi hi hi hihihihihihihihihihihihi     HI Every Buddy! It's me! Franklin the Bordernese. I love to please.

Dang, I'm cute. I have such soulful brown eyes. Mom says so.

I wanna tell you what happened last Saturday. Mom and my friend Willy Dunne Wooters were going out to lunch. Why I wasn't invited, I dunno.

Do you remember Willy Dunne Wooters? I do.

I had to block out Mom's face because this mushy stuff between them is going too far. Some nights Harper can't even get in the bed because Willy Dunne Wooters takes his place.

Oops! I guess I wasn't supposed to say that, but it's true!

Before they left, Mom called me and Harper into the house. She doesn't leave us out in the yard when she's gone. We could get up to all sorts of mischief, especially Harper who is an escape artist and always talks me into going on adventures with him. I don't really want adventures. I want to stay home.

So me and Harper went in the house and Mom closed the back door and locked it. Then she wandered around the house looking for Willy Dunne Wooters to tell him it was time to go. She couldn't find him, and she kept calling, WILLY! WILLY!

She couldn't find him anywhere.

That's because he was in the backyard with us, looking behind the garage. Mom locked him in the backyard! *snicker snort*

I coulda told her where he was, but they didn't invite me to lunch so I didn't tell. Finally Mom went down the hall through the laundry room, and there was Willy Dunne Wooters peering in the window at the back door.

He didn't knock or call out to me or Mom or Harper. He just stood there and looked in the window, locked out in the backyard.

*snicker snort*

Mom let him in and told him how she'd been searching for him. Then there was some mushy love stuff and they finally went out to lunch. They didn't even bring me anything.

But me and Willy Dunne Wooters had fun watching college football again. We winned this time.

Well, that's all I have to say for this week. Keep your nose clean and your pants dry.

I dunno where I heard that.

Okay I love you bye bye.

Franklin the Bordernese

He always tries to have the last word. But not this time.


Thursday, November 7, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present for your consideration a documentary called The Imposter (2012, Rated R, Available on Netflix Screaming or DVD).

It's 1997 in Spain. The police receive a call from a phone booth. A tourist claims he has found a frightened American kid who has no identification.

The police pick up "the kid". They take him to a children's home. He won't reveal his identity, and begs to spend the night in the home's office so he can have privacy to call his American family to tell them where he is. He knows they'll be very shocked that he's alive.

The Kid calls police departments in the U.S. and looks at photos of missing teens. He then claims to be Nicholas Barclay from San Antonio, Texas, who disappeared in 1994. He would be 17 now.

Nicholas Barclay's sister flies to Spain and says, Yes, this is Nicholas. She says he looks so much like his Uncle Pat. He has Uncle Pat's nose.

But why did Nicholas Barclay have blonde hair and blue eyes, and this young man has dark hair and dark eyes? Why does he have a French accent, though he grew up in Texas? Why does he appear to be older than Nicholas Barclay?

It just gets crazier from there. This documentary is fascinating. You already know from the title that something is not right, but it seems that something might not be right with the Barclay family, too. You have to watch The Imposter to believe it, and even then you'll shake your head and wonder how people can be so crazy.

The Imposter earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval. It's strange and fascinating and well made.

Happy Viewing!

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Wednesday, November 6, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Are there stores you won't enter because you think they're too expensive or the merchandise is inappropriate or whatever?

When I lived in Illinois, my retirement job was working part time at Macy's (X said I didn't contribute; it was true – I didn't contribute to his gambling habit). The ladies – and I use the term "ladies" loosely – at the Bible study I attended would not go in Macy's.

It's too expensive, they'd say.

But look at this great sweater I'm wearing, I'd say. It was 4.99 on clearance without my employee discount. We have great sales all the time.

We don't go in Macy's, they'd say. It's too expensive.


People are usually astonished when I tell them how great Victoria's Secret is. I know they put all that sexy stuff in the window (one woman at Bible study said she put her hands over her grandson's eyes when they passed VS), but they have regular cotton undies and bras and jammies, too.

I get my pink granny panties at Victoria's Secret, I'd say.

Naaaaaaaaah. We don't go in Victoria's Secret, they'd say.

I've never been in a store that sells, uh, sex toys and stuff. I'm not much of a shopper because it's so easy to order stuff online, but I'm not afraid to go in a store even if I know everything is too expensive or the clothes wouldn't fit me. It's fun to look.

Now how about you? Are there stores you won't enter because you think they're too expensive or the merchandise is inappropriate or whatever?

I think this post is #994.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, November 5, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Soon I shall reach my one thousandth post. I'd like to do something special to celebrate.

I'd also like to find a few new followers. I love the folks I meet through blogging.

If I can figure out rafflecopter, I think I'll have a giveaway. I like the kind of giveaways in which one can get increasing numbers of entries based on the level of participation.

I have some cool prizes in mind. I want to show you all how grateful I am to you for following me by giving out some early Christmas presents.

So stay tuned for more details.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. If I can't figure out how to do a giveaway, then never mind. Forget I ever wrote this post.

Monday, November 4, 2013


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I feel inspired to write to you today because of Bouncin' Barb's post called Things That Really Irk Me Friday. I imagine you'll want to read this post for yourself, but to sum it up quickly, Barb writes about sexual predators – the kind who go after children.

I may have alluded to my friend's story in earlier posts, but I don't think I've ever told the entire story.

This unfortunate occurrence happened quite a few years ago in another state. I had a friend, let's call her "Jo". Jo had a daughter who was a freshman in high school. Let's call Jo's daughter "Missy".

Missy was on the track team at her high school, so she stayed after school everyday to practice. Jo would come to Missy's practice to watch, and to be there to take Missy home as soon as practice was over.

Missy hated having Jo hang around. She begged her mom to let her call when practice was over, and Jo would make the short drive to the school then. The assistant coach said that he would stay with Missy while she waited for her mom. Wouldn't leave her alone for a second.

A man – I almost hate to call him a man because it suggests he's a human being and I'm not sure that's really the case – had been released from prison recently, where he had languished for a while after raping a child. The police found him hanging around an elementary school and shooed him away, but didn't arrest him even though he was not allowed to be in the vicinity of a school.

So the rapist moved over to the high school to see what delicacies might turn up.

The very first day that Jo and Missy began their new arrangement, Missy called Jo. Jo headed for the school. The assistant track coach did not stay with Missy as promised. Missy was waiting outside the high school, right next to a door. A man approached Missy. God, this is hard to write.

Missy went through the door into the school, but no one was in the vicinity. The man followed Missy into the school, pushed her into a restroom, and raped her. He left. Jo arrived and found Missy, sobbing on the floor.

They called the police. The police knew who the guy was and where to find him. He was arrested right away, convicted of rape, and sentenced to so many years in prison without possibility of parole that there was no way he would leave prison alive.

But it's not as if a girl is raped, the guy is convicted, and then everything is over. This act had major repercussions. Jo and Missy went to counseling for years. Every year, around the time she'd been raped, Missy became suicidal.

Her school really, really fucked up in the way they handled the situation. The newspaper reported that a student at the high school had been raped. No one knew who it was, and, of course, the newspaper didn't publish Missy's name.

But the next day, all the teachers told their students that it was Missy who had been raped, and to just treat her normally when she returned to school.

Missy couldn't be treated normally. Her life wasn't normal anymore. Normal did not exist for Missy.

How dare they violate her privacy that way?

Missy did not go back to school for months. Jo took a month off from her job as an office manager so she could be with Missy. The doctor for whom she worked used it as an excuse to fire Jo. Jo thought he wanted to get rid of her because she'd been there so long that she was earning more than the doctor really wanted to pay her.

Jo couldn't get another job that paid 40k. She went to work at a convenience story. Jo and Missy had to move to a less expensive house. Missy was miserable in school. She couldn't hang out with other kids. She was too frightened. Jo and Missy were scared all the time. Every time the phone rang and they heard an unidentified man's voice, they were terrified. They had to stop answering the phone.

Jo was guilt ridden because she had agreed to pick up Missy when track practice ended. No disciplinary action was taken against the assistant coach who had promised he wouldn't leave Missy.

For Missy's senior year in high school, Jo moved them into a house in a small town not too far from where they had been living, but it meant that Missy would attend a different high school – a high school where everyone didn't see her as the girl who had been raped.

Toward the end of the school year, Missy began to relax a bit. She started doing teenager things like going to a movie with a group of friends.

Jo got a job at the nursing home where I worked. I helped train her for her new job. Jo and I became quite close and eventually, she told me what had happened to Missy and how they still suffered from it. They had a certain length of time – I don't remember how long it was – during which they could file a law suit against the school district. Jo was reluctant to move forward with the law suit because of the publicity.

I don't know what they decided to do. I had to move and leave my friend behind. We stayed in touch for about a year, but then she just seemed to disappear. Her phone was disconnected. I've Googled her name and her daughter's name, and haven't been able to find either one of them. Letters I sent to their address were returned to me because they no longer lived there. I can't find anything about them in the newspaper's archive.

Now I've told you this long story, and all I can really say is that I'm with Bouncin' Barb in wondering what to do about people who prey on children.

They have to report their addresses to the police, but they can move and no one notices most of the time. Then they strike again.

In a world as technologically advanced as ours, why can't we keep track of child molesters?

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. I hope I was able to comfort Jo at least a bit. She said that many parents had attacked her verbally and said that Missy's rape was Jo's fault because Jo should have been there when track practice ended. At the time of the rape, I was the managing editor of a small newspaper. I told Jo that I had never heard anyone say anything negative about her, and, in fact, our publisher had said he'd love to use a baseball bat on the rapist.