BURIED ALIVE: HOLY GUACAMOLE – HOW I ATE MY WAY FROM UNDER AN AVALANCHE OF AVOCADOS
SURVIVAL: ATTACK OF THE MUTANT MARS BAR *warning: article contains peanut reference
I LOST 50 BAZILLION POUNDS IN 24 HOURS. YOU CAN TOO!
The headlines on display at my local supermarket’s checkout counter #3 are mesmerising. It’s hard to look away even though I could care less about who
married whom last week, who’s been divorced within ten minutes of marrying their soul mate, or who was so totally flummoxed to the point of being hospitalized when their great dane gave birth to a litter of chihuahuas. Continue reading
Alice Wetherby-Pimms had a peculiar penchant for pickles. Be they sweet, sour, or dill, the child was mad about brined cucumbers. Chips, chunks, cubes, finely chopped relishes, halves, slices, spears, sticks and whole, no matter their shape, Alice craved them all.
Once upon a dreary Sunday many Mays ago, it was unclear whether Alice Wetherby-Pimms had quaffed the dregs of a liter of 
webs of spun silk billow
They say the day Aunt Frankie married Uncle Sally was a day that would live in infamy. I’d learned Franklin D. Roosevelt said that when Pearl Harbor was bombed, but no, most of the family, actually, only the uncles, would whistle, smack their wine stained lips, and speculate over the reasons as to why a raven-haired bombshell like Francine Odessa would be interested in a stunad* like Uncle Sally. As for the women in the house? They’d wink at one another.
Because our minds are not confined to the constraints of our craniums, a ride down the rabbit hole can be endless with its twists and turns, zigs and zags, steep climbs, and plummeting tumbles into a time-sucking abyss. You’re familiar with it, I’m sure.
Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner 