Executive Exercise #amwriting @StoryADayMay

Executive Exercise

by Marian Allen

Winston Javits
What I Learned at the Timber Creek Executive Retreat
Accountability Journal (Private)

Eggs come out of chickens’ behinds. Yes, the eggs we eat.
They come out hot.
Sometimes they have poop on them.
Roosters don’t like people.
Eggs still taste good.
So do chickens.

Diurnal means active during the day – nocturnal means active during the night – crepuscular means active during the transitions between day and night or night and day. There are snakes in all these categories.

Ticks are easy to remove while they’re looking for a vulnerability, but harder to remove after they’ve dug in.

Poor housekeeping attracts bugs.

Inattention to holes in the walls allows mice to infiltrate your quarters.
Mice attract snakes.

Most snakes are not venomous, but it doesn’t take many venomous snakes to be too many.
If you don’t want to know a secret, don’t sit around a campfire too long after dark. If you do, do.

Men who think it’s funny to snap other men on the buttocks with towels never outgrow it. These men cannot be trusted. (See attached list.)

Shaving and showering in cold water for a week may or may not build character, but it does nothing for one’s personal appearance. Neither does not shaving and showering for a week.

Some women are more competent than some men.

Some women are better at kissing than they are at removing splinters or starting a fire. The kissing ones are fun to have around, but the others are of higher practical value when it counts. There are plenty of kissing ones available in places where practical value isn’t important.

Fire doesn’t care who starts it, and food doesn’t care who cooks it. A person is capable of the job or not capable of the job, regardless of how they look, who they are, how they dress, who they know, or any other external consideration. The bottom line is ability.

Was this retreat successful?

Yes.

MY PROMPT TODAY: Timber Creek Executive Shaving Lotion

If you liked this story, you might like my other stories and my novels. Support an author: buy a book and leave an Amazon review. I thank you, and my cat thanks you.

MA

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About

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is.

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One thought on “Executive Exercise #amwriting @StoryADayMay

  1. The Mister removes my splinters whenever he’s available. Otherwise, I make a huge, painful mess of myself. So, I can’t remove splinters, but I can start a fire, and cook really well, a little chicken poop never scared me off an egg, so surely I’m of some use beyond kissing.
    I can say a cold shower is often better than no shower, but to shave in the cold is unbearable.
    Peonies bring ants, and they don’t care how clean my house is.
    I hope my husband is not a towel-snapper. I shall inquire. My son is not, so I know I’ve been that useful, at least.

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  2. Dan Antion
    Twitter:

    May 24, 2017 at 4:13pm

    Eggs come out of where? Yeah, I guess I knew that. My friend likes to point out, when I’m eating eggs that: “you know there’s a beak in there?” He contends that when you eat an egg, you are eating the entire chicken. I might disagree about what food thinks. I’ve known some bad cooks in my time. I want to think that when my maternal grandmother was looking at the meat section, some of the packages were trying to hide, the way school children try to become invisible during math and science. My wife can get a splinter out of you, regardless of where or how deep.
    Dan Antion would love to share..One-Liner Wednesday – Thank YouMy Profile

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    • Author

      Marian Allen
      Twitter:

      May 24, 2017 at 5:42pm

      “My wife can get a splinter out of you, regardless of where or how deep.” — That’s like a super-power!!

      Eggs can’t be an entire chicken, because you can eat them during Lent. So there. Besides, unless a rooster is involved, eggs are infertile and will never be chickens. So there, too!

      That’s funny about your maternal grandmother — probably not so funny when you had to eat her cooking. 😉

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