Tag Archives: humor

Beauty and the Beast? Yeah, right!

Okay, I love a good impossible fantasy-type love story as much as the next guy, but honestly, Disney may be pushing my credulity just a little too far. This weekend I stood in a chilly line outside the movie theater so that I could get in to the latest version of Beauty and the Beast. However, there were a few questions that entered my cynical mind while I was watching.

Beauty and the Beast

Official Disney Movie Poster Copyright Disney Studios http://movies.disney.com/beauty-and-the-beast-2017

For a girl who is looked down on by the town, everyone seemed to know her. They greeted her in a friendly manner, asked about her activities and her day and though I saw little or nothing unusual about her there, the townspeople broke into song about how odd she was. I don’t find it odd that she read books and avoided Gaston whenever possible, but the fact that all she wants her father to bring her back from the market is a rose…now that’s odd.

Then there was the issue of the castle. I could take that it was winter all the time. I could even accept that it was surrounded by wolves. Even a crabby beast lurking in the shadows would be creepy but not too far out. But the second the candlestick invited me to dinner and my tea cup started talking, I’d have been out of there. Eaten by a wolf? Much better than having a conversation with your singing dresser drawers!

Beyond that is the interesting question of the looks of the key characters. We are asked to believe that the gift of a library and a snowball fight was all it took to make Belle overlook the fact that the object of her affection was a character who looked like a cross between a raging bull and Lucifer himself. Even that may be credible, but a union between a human and this “beast” would have been difficult to sustain. Would they live in the cold castle filled with creepy talking furnishings or would they go and live in the village where people already described Belle as odd?

Looks were a key consideration throughout the movie, but I couldn’t help wondering about the reverse question: What would have happened if Belle had been the beast and the prince was expected to fall in love with her anyway? Now, you have to admit there are many more stories out there where beautiful girls marry less than perfect looking, but wonderful men, than beautiful men who marry girls without looks.

A cynic (and I sometimes am one) might suspect that Belle took a look at the giant and ornate castle and its fine accoutrements  and decided she could overlook a furry physique and a couple of horns for a lavish lifestyle. I prefer the romantic point of view, however; I think Belle falling for a horrific beast who then turned into her Prince Charming is very romantic—if not very believable.

Lastly, I don’t want to leave out the mob in the “small provincial town.” Shakespeare seemed always to write his plays with utter contempt for the fickle and clueless mob. This story takes up that issue as well. The mobs follow Gaston when he locks up Maurice for suggesting that there is a monster and then just as faithfully follow him along when he decides that not only is there a monster, but they must kill it. This makes the mob even more stupid than Gaston and twice as gullible!

Okay, I guess this is the last of my questions, but as for the movie of Beauty and the Beast, I really did enjoy it. I spent the days after I went to the movie singing the songs and dancing around the house with sheets draped around me like Belle’s dress and holding conversations with my kitchenware…but don’t worry, nothing has so far talked back! Have a great week and go and see Beauty and the Beast for a fantasy treat!


© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


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Life’s Sinful Pleasures

Today was a good day, I spent part of it watching a Blue Bloods marathon, another part organizing the cans in my cupboard and then there was the part where I ate…whatever I wanted….whenever I wanted.I got started on this train of thought when I read about the group that is encouraging people to talk about little weird things that they like…kind of a reverse little things that annoy you. So, I began thinking about all the weird little things that others might find annoying, but that I really like. I’ve got a few.

For instance, I love cheese. I know, I know, you’re not supposed to eat cheese, but I’ve never been able to walk by a block of cheese in the stores and it’s even worse when it’s in one of those round cylinders. The truth is, though, that I don’t just like cheese, which is bad enough for you. I love to eat cheese with Lays potato chips. Frequently, I can be found taking a bite of cheese and then a potato chip, luxuriating in the heavy dairy and heavy salt mix. I’m reminded of Mrs. Potato Head, who hides in her pantry to indulge her secret (and cannibalistic for her) pleasure. I don’t eat my cheese and chips in a closet, but I have been known to eat them crouched behind the kitchen counter so no one can see me from the windows.

Another of my weird enjoyments is the plastic bubble wrap that comes in packages. I LOVE to pop those little pockets of air and listen to the sound they make. My saddest day so far is when they began using those plastic wraps with the giant pillows of air. They are difficult to pop and not nearly as satisfying. Now, people may like popping lots of them at once, but not me, I like things to drag out longer, so I’m very meticulous about popping a row at a time and I’m not very happy if someone had popped some for me.

Now, when I’m popping these plastic wraps and eating my chips and cheese, I love to watch Blue Bloods. I watch marathons of the show on cable channels or on my own DVDs (yes, I’ve collected all seasons). I don’t watch it because of the exciting drama or the fact that Donny Wahlberg can outrun any criminal. I watch it for the family dinners. Those family dinners have more drama than a night on Broadway and I love it! Once the family dinner is over, I’m really not that interested in how they solve the current legal problem, I’m just bummed that Sunday dinner is done. (They have some fabulous meals as well.)

Another weird thing I enjoy is the fact that on Facebook, they are always putting out a math problem or a visual problem or a grammar or vocabulary problem on the timeline. I am addicted to these: I work like anything to make sure I come up with the right answer and it drives me crazy that they frequently don’t give the answers. It’s like asking someone to marry you, but never coming up with an answer. Answer provided or not, I can’t resist taking the quizzes, so I hope they keep them coming.

So now I ‘ve talked about some of the weird little things that not only don’t make me crazy, but that I truly enjoy. So I suppose you’re wondering why I mentioned arranging cans in the cupboard. Well, that’s another weird thing I enjoy: making statements like that to make people think I am somehow uncontrollably neat when I’m actually uncontrollably sloppy! Have a happy week, folks, I’m off to eat some cheese and chips!


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It isn’t exactly like Jason Bourne…

I just got home from the latest Jason Bourne movie and as usual, I loved it! Those movies have all been packed with fast-paced action, intrigue, danger and mystery. I can’t decide why they appeal to me so much; perhaps it’s the quality acting of Matt Damon or maybe it’s the wonderful story lines. Or maybe, in just a small little part of me, I wish I was more like Jason Bourne.

That’s not so impossible, is it? I mean, think about some of the things Jason Bourne does. They are very similar to things that happen in my own life.

Take tonight’s movie. Jason Bourne was on the run from the bad guys and suddenly, he disappeared. The next thing you know, he jumps out and with two punches, lands both of the bad guys on the ground, completely knocked out. Now me? I sat in a chair where two flies were really bugging me. I got up with purpose, got out the flyswatter and absolutely squashed one of those flies. At least, he seemed to be dead, but after a while he got up and left. Pretty much the same, right?

One of the things I like about Jason Bourne is the way he is always traveling, without a hitch, from country to country, around the world. I’m pretty much like that as well. I plane and train hop everywhere myself. Except that Jason Bourne just walks up to the gate and hops on to the plane. I drag my purse, carry-on baggage, liquids I have properly placed in plastic bags, shoes taken off in the “imaging chamber”, and with my hair in my eyes and my boarding pass in my teeth, I huff and puff my way through a line three miles long. I’m not sure how Jason does it his way, but mine is almost as thrilling…except for the little pieces of boarding pass that I spit out during the whole flight.

Jason Bourne is always doing cool things on the computer. He can download, copy, break into encrypted files, etc. You name it and he has it down. Me? I can turn my computer on and sometimes if I’m lucky, I can send an e-mail.

Phones are another thing Bourne has got down perfectly. He can code them, message with them, call the bad guys to gloat about not being caught. I can unlock mine…sometimes….when I can remember the code. Once I have unlocked it, I can even call someone on it…sometimes…when I can remember their number.

Okay, so maybe Bourne is having more fun than I am. He drives cars through trash and debris with precision. I manage to carry trash and debris out of my house to the garbage can and only miss rarely. Bourne is always on the alert and always one step ahead of the bad guys. I am frequently caught napping and I’m never a step ahead of anyone.

Now that I think about it, maybe I don’t want to be like Jason Bourne anyway. After all, he has to figure out how to get from one place to another without being killed. My biggest problem this week was how to clean the sticky stuff out of the grout in my kitchen. He lives by the gun, I live by the sponge, broom and mop.

Still, I’d like to have something in common with the famous Jason Bourne. He is the Bourne Identity while I am the Fauth Misnomer. But….I’ve got it! Both of us have a first name the starts with the letter J! I knew that I  was like Jason Bourne somehow. He’s an international hired assassin who has reformed his ways and I am a Midwestern housewife who can’t even refold a map. The comparison is there, however; I have found my connection to the great Jason Bourne. We share the letter J. Pathetic, isn’t it?

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Creating a talking list

Okay, I admit it, I’m one of those people who probably overshares on Facebook. It is just such an easy way to instantaneously visit with large groups of people. But I’m also aware that there are some things which should not be discussed on Facebook. So, since all the other people have their “taboo subject” lists, I’ll make one too.

When I’m on Facebook, I don’t really want my religion challenged. I’m fairly certain God is not putting those challenges on about “if you believe in God, you’ll re-post this…if you don’t repost it, something bad will happen.” I don’t really think God is sitting up there in heaven, waiting to strike if I don’t share the proper thing on Facebook. While we’re at it, don’t talk to me about one religion (Christian or otherwise) pitted against another. Pretty much every religion under the sun has heroes and if we took a shovel and dug a little we’d find things we don’t like. Tell me when you’re having a fundraiser bake sale, etc. and I’ll be there, but no ideology, please.unnamed

No politics on Facebook. I won’t convince you and you won’t convince me, so all those political rants are a waste of time. I like to hear about successful programs and ways in which I can help, but the evils of the political parties are lost on me.

I’m also a little squeamish about discussions of sex lives. I don’t frequently read about someone’s activities in the area of amour, but when I do, I always wish I hadn’t read it! I don’t mind hearing about weddings and engagements and anniversaries, in fact, I like those. I even love all the pictures and posts about babies, I just don’t want to hear any creation details!

The next thing on my list is going to sound weird, but I don’t want to hear about farts on Facebook. Apparently, it is now all the rage to create little clever sayings about farts, but those always make me flinch. I have as many bodily functions as the next person, I don’t need any cute little sayings to remind me of how uncomfortable it is!

And then there’s liver. The subject of liver is always unacceptable to me. I don’t like liver and I don’t want to discuss its health benefits or anything else. I am also not very fond of almonds, so if I didn’t have to talk about them, I’d be happy.

Then, there is the color purple, especially as it appears on the backs of the Vikings. Okay, what I really don’t want to discuss if football—Vikings specific. The every Sunday scream fest at my house when the Vikings are winning or losing (the screaming is the same, either way) is enough. I don’t want to discuss it on Facebook.

Other things I don’t want to talk about: guns (I can’t shoot), jeans (I can’t wear them) recipes (I can’t cook), and music because I can’t play or sing. In fact, I think everyone should just clear everything they want to talk about with me before they post it on Facebook.

What do you mean, we have freedom of speech? If I don’t like what someone says or how they say it, they shouldn’t have the right to talk about it, right? Oh dear, I think I may have gotten something wrong here….but still, if you would, just don’t talk to me about liver, alright? Anything but liver. Is it a deal?


© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Bringing Up Josie

Raising children was a complex and interesting process. As a parent, I can honestly say that I will probably never think I am done raising my children. But since I have taken on the task of raising a puppy, parenthood may seem like a picnic.

Josie on a rare occasion - chewing something she's supposed to!

Josie on a rare occasion – chewing something she’s supposed to!

The first thing I have discovered is that there is nothing so energetic as a small puppy like our Josie. This dog can take a walk around the yard at a dead run, pull everything she can find out of the garbage cans and chew it up and still have the energy to run a mile and a half on a half mile walk. She wants to play constantly and for a couple beyond their play years, this can become problematical for us.

Of course, everything she gets, she chews. So far she has eaten my address book, two books I was attempting to read, my glasses (it’s alright, though, because I have nothing to read) and every plastic canvas creation I have attempted in the last month.

We have the bathroom situation figured out. She goes outside…unless she goes inside. So far, my screaming at her when she starts to pee on the rug only means she pees faster to get me to stop screaming. She hasn’t figured out  yet why something we praise her for doing out in the grass is something she gets in trouble for if she does it a few feet away on the living room floor.

As a typical puppy, it is second nature for her to bite everything she plays with. She can start out licking your hand or foot but biting will soon follow. I read somewhere that the best way to train a dog not to bite is to roll up some paper and slap her sharply on the nose every time she bites. Josie bit my foot and I slapped her sharply and said, “No.” She sat back and considered it a moment, and then tried again. Again, I said, “No.” and slapped her with the paper. She settled down at once, lying down and looking very cute and innocent.11896253_10100576420082496_4848608320393750555_n

Satisfied with my attempt at doggie discipline, I went to get her a treat from the kitchen. I returned with the treat, only to find that she was chewing the rolled up paper to shreds. I didn’t give her the treat, but I did have to give her some points for problem solving.  The problem she hasn’t solved is how to get rid of all the paper in the house so I can’t roll up anymore!

My rugs may be taking the hardest part of bringing up the puppy. They are being constantly washed after Josie uses them for her bathroom breaks and when she’s not doing that, she is chewing them up. She especially likes the one I have under my small desk in the living room. I wasn’t too worried about the rug because she couldn’t get it out from under the desk. I found out I was wrong the day I heard the crash from the living room and Josie came running with the rug in her mouth and the wreckage from my desk tipping over strewn out behind her.

I had thought she was getting better, but today, while working in the basement, I could hear her, running madly around on the main floor. She must have heard me on the stairs, coming to check on her, because she met me at the door of the basement and flopped down on her belly to give herself a more innocent appearance. The innocent air didn’t help, however, since she had a string stuck in her teeth and hanging  from her mouth and streaming out to the rug that she was slowly unraveling.

Josie on the move!

Josie on the move!

Yes, bringing up Josie is a challenge, but I take heart from the fact that our children eventually grew up under our guidance, surely Josie will too. Right? Right? Josie, spit my shoe out of your mouth and tell me I’m right!

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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A Walk in the Gloaming

I read somewhere that some bugs are very high in cholesterol if ingested by a human being. I really hope this is not true, because I’ve been having a rather steady diet of them lately.

It’s bad enough that I keep falling asleep in my chair only to be awakened by some fly trying to crawl in my mouth. You wake up fast while trying to spit fly off your tongue but so far, I don’t think I’ve actually feasted on one.fly

The same cannot be said for bugs when I’m out walking. I know that I need to walk, but unfortunately, this time of year, I can only get in a walk in the evening, just before dark—a time that my ancestors might have termed the “gloaming.”

Unfortunately, in the gloaming, the sun is actually going down, which reduces the heat, but encourages the bugs. I walk out there with my slow step and heavy frame and I have no chance of outrunning those bugs. Therefore, I end up waving my arms around like a disjointed windmill, trying to fend them off. And there are a lot of them.

I’ve been reading stories and watching programs which predict that some animal will take over the earth from the humans. I frankly don’t worry about tigers, dogs, bears or apes. I think the earth will be overrun by bugs.

I recognize this as the ugly truth every time I take this walk in the gloaming. Every type of winged creature makes its way outside and straight for the path I’m walking.

Charlie Bug will say to Arnold Bug: “Hey, buddy wanna have a good time?”

“Sure,” exclaims Arnold, “What do you have in mind?”

“Fly on over to the Fauth walk and we can fly into the old lady’s hair, eyes, ears, etc.” Charlie leads the way.

“Sounds like fun,” shouts Arnold as they fly my way. “It’ll be so easy, especially when they don’t have any better sense than to walk in the gloaming!”

Tonight, they were in particularly good form. I ran into the side of a building while trying to wave off some particularly persistent friends of Charlie. Arnold managed to win the annoyance trophy by flying between my eye and my glasses, but I’m afraid the news was not so good for Charlie. As I was talking to my husband, Charlie flew down my throat to become a mosquito canapé. All the spitting in the world couldn’t bring poor old Charlie back.giant_gallinipper_mosquito

Hence, my hope that bugs are not high in cholesterol, because here is a human than seems bound to ingest more than her fair share. Happy gloaming, everyone—celebrate it by not walking with the mosquitoes.

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You may be a teacher if…

My grandson begins school today. I don’t mean that my little toddler boy is going to go off with his toy backpack and play alphabet games at pre-school. I mean my big, just-turned-five-and-how-did-that-happen grandson is going to actual school.

Royce's first day!

Royce’s first day!

He has a backpack full of school supplies and a head full of last minute instructions on how to behave at school and he is off to the races.

As a grandma, I’m proud of this fact, but I’m an even prouder teacher. He is about to make some teacher’s head spin with his engineering projects and his overwhelming preference for the color orange. And that got me to thinking about what it really means in this day and this age to be a teacher.

Now I know that we are all supposed to be teachers in one educational way or another. However, those of us in the classroom trenches know that to be a teacher in the school when all of those backpack toting little darlings walk through the door is a special, awesome, hair-pulling, screaming good time.

If you can simultaneously help a child edit their writing, take roll and lunch count and get everyone on their feet for the Pledge of Allegiance on time, you may be a teacher. Multi-tasking takes on hysterical new meaning in the classroom. I have literally found the right chapter of the book for one student with one  hand while searching frantically through my desk for the stopwatch which is beeping uncontrollably with the other. And I still had a foot free to shove the wastebasket at the third kid of the morning to achieve vomitus flu in my classroom!

I hear frequently that God is not found in our public schools. I would chuckle at this misinformation if I wasn’t so busy offering up my own prayers to generate as much learning and as little damage as possible each day. That is in addition to the students who are sitting in their seats offering up sincere and genuine prayers that the teacher will believe their reason for not having homework done or will grade the test they are about to flunk on the curve. God is in the public schools, ladies and gentleman and He is probably holding His head in His hands a lot while he is there!

Teaching requires a sense of humor and it requires you to disguise that sense of humor most of the time. It you can listen to a student regale you with the tale of their Christmas vacation when Uncle Harold had too much eggnog  and landed in the tree and not crack a smile, you’re doing pretty well. If you can hold it together when little Jimmy mispronounces the word “prostrate” while reading imagery poetry, you’re doing better than most, since “lying there prostate on the ground” conjures up some hysterical imagery for me.

A teacher must be prepared to impart knowledge while fielding any number of interesting sideshows. For instance, if, in the middle of reading “Casey at the Bat,” you suddenly find yourself refereeing a battle between two students arguing over who owns the tired-looking pencil they found on the floor between their desks, you have hit one of the high points of the teaching profession. And they don’t cover in college what the proper procedure is if your post-holiday essay on “What I Got for Christmas” turns into a show-and-tell between two boys who both think the superhero undershorts they got were the best!

Yes, I am so excited about my little grandson headed off to school. 20150831_083045And I hope his teacher is prepared for all his tape-and-string concoctions and his insistence that yes, even grass can be orange in color. I have faith in her or him,  though: a teacher is the perfect person to answer the burning question on the mind of every kindergarten child—“If I eat glue, will my insides stick together????” Have a great year, all of you teachers and all of you students!

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

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