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My Inner Comedienne Gets Piste Off

Mother Hen Diaries


No sooner had I opened the kitchen door than she was there, leaning against the stainless steel front of my refrigerator. “Just vhere do you sink you ah govink?” she demands.

I lift my brows at her newly-acquired accent, sounding as she does like the love child of Colonel Klink and The Terminator.

colonel klink   +  terminator   = shutterstock_122266006 ?

“What’s with the accent?” I ask in all innocence, though I am not at all surprised by her latest foray into mad behaviour.

“Aggzent?” She asks, bewildered. “Vaht aggzent?” 

I sigh. There is no point in pressing the issue. “Never mind,” I say, hoping she has forgot her question.

She hasn’t.

“So vhat ah you doink in ze kitchen, zen?”

“Nothin’,” I lie, tucking my empty Pinot Grigio glass behind my back and trying to look casual.

I can feel the heat of her glare from behind her black ski goggles…

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I am a mother of 16 children and grandchildren. Some of them are by blood and the rest by heart. I was a foster mom for a few years and the children I cared for during that time have mostly stayed with me through the years. I love to write, read, dance, paint, and play with my animals. I enjoy dressage riding and just being in the barn. My words are my gift, as they allow you to know me as I really am. Thanks for joining me on this ride of life!

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