Mom's Advice For Chigger Bites

In a recent conversation with one of my younger cousins she posed this question to the masses on Facebook: How do you diminish the itching that comes along with chigger bites? Now she's a few years younger than me and it was interesting to watch the responses from folks her age and younger come in from all over the country. Here are a few examples: 1. Go to the Urgent Care Clinic and get a special lotion from the doctor. 2. Put ice on it. 3. Run to Walmart and ask the Pharmacist. 4. Pick. 5. Scratch it till it bleeds. 6. And pick some more. And so forth and so on. What is even more interesting is the responses that she got from the moms my age and up. They all said the same thing: put fingernail polish on it. In the summertime you could always tell the kids that spent their days, evenings and nights in a kind of blissful unawareness: We all had many multi-colored splotches all over our body; the stranger the colors, the better. Mom always said the polish suffocates the chigger that is trapped under the skin. I don't know if that is true or not and I was going to Google it and see what came up but even the mention of that bug made my skin crawl and I started to scratch. You know moms are mostly always right, just try to pick a clear polish so you don't stand out in a crowd. And another tip from mom: stop scratching or you'll leave a scar.

It's On Sale...This Weekend Only

Looking for a fun summer read. Check out Scrunchie-Fried, it's on sale this weekend for only $.99. Just click on the Amazon link below the image. Amazon.com: Scrunchie-Fried eBook: Gianetta Palmer: Kindle Store

Youunto...Lingo Used In The Southern States

This list of sayings was forwarded to me in one of those emails that floats around the Internet. I've added a few of my own. See how many you already know or feel free to add your own. Loaferin' has absolutely nothing to do with the making of a loaf made from meat. Ya don't start the car; ya crank it. A possum is a flat animal that sleeps in the middle of the road. There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 of them live in the South. Dairy Queen is the center of the Universe. There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 of them live in the South, plus a couple no one's seen before. If it grows, it'll stick ya. If it crawls, it'll bite cha. Shirt and shoes are not required at most establishments. Onced and Twiced are words. It is not a shopping cart, it is a buggy! Jawl-P? means Did y'all go to the bathroom? Tops of all kinds including tank, tube and muffin are encouraged to be on display. People actually grow, eat and like okra. Walmart is a clothing optional store, especially when the temps go up. Fixinto is one word. It means I'm fixing to do that. There is no such thing as lunch. There is only dinner and then there is supper. Iced tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you're two. We do like a little tea with our sugar. It is referred to as the Wine of the South. Backwards and forwards means I know everything about you. The word jeet is actually a phrase meaning 'Did you eat?' You don't have to wear a watch, because it doesn't matter what time it is, you work until you're done or it's too dark to see. You don't PUSH buttons, you MASH em. Ya'll is singular; All ya'll is plural. You measure distance in minutes. You switch from heat to A/C in the same day. All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, insect, or animal. You know what a DAWG is? You carry jumper cables in your car - for your OWN car. You only own five spices: salt, pepper, mustard, Tabasco and ketchup. The local papers cover national and international news on one page, but require 6 pages for local high school sports and motor sports, and gossip. You think that the first day of deer season is a national holiday. You find 100 degrees Fahrenheit a bit warm. You know what a hissy fit is. Going to Wal-Mart is a favorite pastime known as goin Wal-Martin' or off to Wally World. You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good beef stew or chili weather. Fried catfish is the other white meat. We don't need no dang Driver's Ed. If our mama says we can drive, we can drive!!! You understand these jokes and forward them to your Southern friends and those who just wish they were from the SOUTH.

I'll Never Tell...One Tale From The EBWW

It's a delicate situation. An extremely delicate one. What does one do when someone of more notoriety than you puts you in an awkward position and doesn't even know it? After a few days of careful consideration only one conclusion presented itself and that was to simply write about it. No names will be used in the writing of this tale. There are those that might even say that it didn't happen. But if you've been a reader of this blog over the past few years, you shouldn't be too surprised that it happened to me. Fortunately, I have a certain discretion  about me, although I have been accused of being totally uncouth in the past. (Hey, I'm an observer of things and I like to point them out.) On my recent trip to Dayton, Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop, I met an amazing group of people. Some I had met before, others I had known online and still others I had become friends with through Facebook and Twitter. There were also a lot of new people that I met and I look forward to remaining in contact with as many of them as I can. Laughter was the main highlight of this year's workshop. Everywhere you went people were laughing. They were laughing in small groups. They were laughing in big groups. They were laughing so hard that they were doubled over at the waist with streaks of mascara-laced tears running down their cheeks. And then there were those that were all alone walking randomly by themselves with a smile on their face. Perhaps, they needed a minute to collect themselves--to savor the awesomeness that is the EBWW. Or perhaps, they just needed to pass gas; you have to wonder about  (and not walk behind) those that walk by themselves, you know? On one such occasion I found myself walking alone. On purpose. No, it wasn't from that quinoa-super-spiced bean salad that we had for lunch one day but from an incident that I had just witnessed. Only me. I was gathered around a table involved in a humorous conversation with other workshop goers when another party joined the group and sat across the table from me. The other party was attractively attired in a beautiful suit that fell just below the knees. As my gaze drifted from the person speaking to the one that had just sat down I was deeply startled not to find a beaming smile, but in its place, a small patch of white. I did the old double take just to make sure I was seeing what I actually thought I was seeing and indeed I was seeing it. In a word. Flashed. Now, there are two rules that I have adhered to over the years and that is to never wear a skirt and never to sit in the front row. Since I don't wear skirts I really don't have to worry about the second rule. Perhaps, this party just needed to relax and unwind for a bit before stepping back into the whirlwind of the festivities or maybe because she was with such a beautiful flock of swans and it didn't matter. I don't really know but I could have used a warning shot. Because for the rest of the afternoon, I was totally shot. What would have Erma done in that situation? Laugh it off? Point it out? Who knows? But the only thing that kept running through my mind was a piece of advice  that my mother had always told me. "Make sure you have on clean underwear, wherever you go." Woo hoo!

Announcing My New Book

I'm happy to announce the publication of my new book Scrunchie-Fried. Have you ever been Schrunchie-Fried? I hadn't either until I looked in the mirror one day and was shocked at what I saw. Where had that cute, short-haired  blond girl with hints of freckles on her nose disappeared to? In her place was a graying middle-age woman with long hair pulled into a ponytail held in place by a Scrunchie. Everything about her was gray including her complexion, her eyebrows and her disposition. And upon closer inspection, even her freckles had turn gray. It was everywhere.... ...and I was over it. What came next was a year long conversion into a happier and more positive me. Out with the gray and in with the new. In my new book, you'll find some of my personal stories as I transformed myself from drab gray to perky blue. Also inside are several true stories that I wrote about my mom and dad and the events that shaped their early lives. You'll also find a few quirky and off-beat stories that only the middle-aged fat woman can tell and I'm sure they will give you a chuckle or two.  Order Scrunchie-Fried by clicking on this link. I will be attending the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop  in Dayton, Ohio this month with a whole lot of other people who like to laugh. This year, I am a returning participant and hope to be reunited with a few of the folks that caused me to nearly come unglued on more than one occasion. Finally, in this new era of publishing, it's really hard to get noticed unless you are somehow lucky enough to end up on Oprah's Book Club List or the FBI's Most Wanted List. Either way, that still doesn't mean that you can make somebody laugh.  As a humor writer, that is what I attempt to do and you can help me out by spreading the word about Scrunchie-Fried with your friends and family.  Reviews are appreciated as well. So as my good friends Bartles and Jaymes used to say, "Thanks for your support!" (And buy my book.)

Erma, Here I Come, Again...

Since I started this blog almost seven years ago, it was my intent to provide insights, stories of memorable happenings and the occasional tidbit of useless information. I enjoy the process of getting an idea, working through the structure of the story and then trying to figure out how to get it to appear interesting on the blog in 400 hundred words or less. Deep down, I've always wanted to be a writer. About four years ago I watched a CBS Sunday Morning news report on Erma Bombeck and the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop held every two years in Dayton, Ohio. I had missed the deadline for the 2010 event, but what's another two years, right? I attended the event in '12 and had the time of my life. Somehow, some way, I have even managed to score a ticket for this year's workshop. (That took some doing because I was literally out of the country when registration occurred [Thanks, Kathie] and it sold out in twelve hours.) Yep, the event is this week and the Middle-Aged Fat Woman I'm going! As I'm preparing for my trip to the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop, there are a couple of things that I have been thinking about: making sure my mustache is shaved and how to introduce myself. Should I go with the casual, "Hi, I used to be the Middle-Aged Fat Woman?" Or how about by nickname since childhood, "Hi, I'm G." and to really confuse people I can introduce myself by my mother-given name, "Hi, I'm Gianetta Mia Palmer" and indeed watch all sorts of questionable looks appear on others' faces. I can see it now: "What?" "What did you say your name was?" "I don't think it's really polite for me to call you MA Fat Woman?" "Do you have anything else you go by?" "How do you pronounce your name again?" "Ohhhh, now I know why you go by G." "How do you spell that?" And so forth and so on... Hopefully, once the introductions are over, the laughter will begin. There are going to be lots of funny people in town and I can't wait to laugh. Watch out, Dayton! Here we come...and let the good times roll.

It's My Birthday!

It's my birthday! Don't forget to send me a card! Or you can leave a comment! Anyhow, I'll have an extra slice of cake, just for you! Gianetta