The Isolated Blurt Thread

[butters]

So were my "saltier" ones.

We all have our days.

i did notice

but had to reply to the literotican attempting to offer me advice it won't happen too often, lol.

gawd, this venison soup/stewy thing is tasty. the red wine in it helps, too!

 

[adrina]

i did notice

but had to reply to the literotican attempting to offer me advice it won't happen too often, lol.

gawd, this venison soup/stewy thing is tasty. the red wine in it helps, too!

I'm having clam strips. Tasty but probably not as hearty as your soup/stew.

Have some wine for me. This is one of those weeks I wish I could still drink. But it's really just as well. I need a hangover during a hurricane like I need a whole in the head.

 

[MelissaBaby]

I'm having clam strips.

Whole belly is the only way to go.

 

[butters]

I'm having clam strips. Tasty but probably not as hearty as your soup/stew.

Have some wine for me. This is one of those weeks I wish I could still drink. But it's really just as well. I need a hangover during a hurricane like I need a whole in the head.

never had clams - yet!

wine or brandy? either way, i'll be tipping it your way

 

[butters]

Whole belly is the only way to go.

clams have bellies? aw, are they ticklish, too?

 

[MelissaBaby]

clams have bellies? aw, are they ticklish, too?

Fried Clams | Bellies vs. Strips

 

[MelissaBaby]

On the subject of clams...

I'd like to share a blog post I wrote a while ago, titled "The Clamdigger."

I wish I were a painter. I have a picture I want to paint. A vivid image in my mind that I long to share.

I wrote recently about my mother, and all the things she did to provide for our little family when I was growing up. It brought back a strong childhood memory.

I was 7 or 8. My mother was making some extra money digging clams. The thing about digging clams is that your schedule is set by the tides. If low tide is in the middle of the night, that's when you go to work on the clam flats.

My mother woke up my brother and I one night. I don't know what time it was , but it was a cold starry night. She bundled us, still in our pajamas, into our coats and hats. With sleep still in our eyes, we carried our blankets and pillows out to the car. We had an old station wagon, and we made beds in the back. I drifted off to sleep while we drove. When we got to the shore, she woke us again and told us to stay in the car,that she would be back in a while, and I went back to sleep.

I woke up some time later. My brother was still fast asleep. I had to pee, so as quietly as I could, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The sky was beginning to lighten.

I shivered a little in my pajamas and coat,nothing on my feet but my slippers. There were some low bushes nearby, where I squatted and relieved myself. When I finished, I wandered around a little. We were parked just off the side of the road, just above a short rocky drop to the beach. I carefully climbed down, hoping to find a sand dollar or a glittery piece of sea glass on the muddy flat.

After a few minutes I decided it was too cold, and climbed back up to the road. When I reached the top, I turned and saw that sight I wish so much I could share.

The sun had broken the horizon and a band of rose colored light stretched across the bottom of the sky. Silhouetted in the light, a figure was walking slowly towards me. I watched my mother, waders to her hips,trudging back from the flats, a bucket filled with clams in one hand, her hoe and headlamp in the other. Her shoulders were slumped with fatigue, but her long hair rippled like ribbons in the wind.

Maybe the image has grown more beautiful,more magical in my memory over the years. I don't think it has, but I am alright if that's the case, because it's the way I will always see her.

I wish I could paint, so others could see it too.

 

[butters]

Fried Clams | Bellies vs. Strips

oh my word. yummy yum!

 

[butters]

I'd like to share a blog post I wrote a while ago, titled "The Clamdigger."

I wish I were a painter. I have a picture I want to paint. A vivid image in my mind that I long to share.

I wrote recently about my mother, and all the things she did to provide for our little family when I was growing up. It brought back a strong childhood memory.

I was 7 or 8. My mother was making some extra money digging clams. The thing about digging clams is that your schedule is set by the tides. If low tide is in the middle of the night, that's when you go to work on the clam flats.

My mother woke up my brother and I one night. I don't know what time it was , but it was a cold starry night. She bundled us, still into our pajamas, into our coats and hats. With sleep still in our eyes, we carried our blankets and pillows out to the car. We had an old station wagon, and we made beds in the back. I drifted off to sleep while we drove. When we got to the shore, she woke us again and told us to stay in the car,that she would be back in a while, and I went back to sleep.

I woke up some time later. My brother was still fast asleep. I had to pee, so as quietly as I could, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The sky was beginning to lighten.

I shivered a little in my pajamas and coat,nothing on my feet but my slippers. There were some low bushes nearby, where I squatted and relieved myself. When I finished, I wandered around a little. We were parked just off the side of the road, just above a short rocky drop to the beach. I carefully climbed down, hoping to find a sand dollar or a glittery piece of sea glass on the muddy flat.

After a few minutes I decided it was too cold, and climbed back up to the road. When I reached the top, I turned and saw that sight I wish so much I could share.

The sun had broken the horizon and a band of rose colored light stretched across the bottom of the sky. Silhouetted in the light, a figure was walking slowly towards me. I watched my mother, waders to her hips,trudging back from the flats, a bucket filled with clams in one hand, her hoe and headlamp in the other. Her shoulders were slumped with fatigue, but her long hair rippled like ribbons in the wind.

Maybe the image has grown more beautiful,more magical in my memory over the years. I don't think it has, but I am alright if that's the case, because it's the way I will always see her.

I wish I could paint, so others could see it too.

though words will never convey (to your satisfaction) the clarity of your own memory-image, you've still gifted us with words to allow our own imaginations to create beautiful pictures. thankyou

 

[AlotLikePsyche]

I'd like to share a blog post I wrote a while ago, titled "The Clamdigger."

I wish I were a painter. I have a picture I want to paint. A vivid image in my mind that I long to share.

I wrote recently about my mother, and all the things she did to provide for our little family when I was growing up. It brought back a strong childhood memory.

I was 7 or 8. My mother was making some extra money digging clams. The thing about digging clams is that your schedule is set by the tides. If low tide is in the middle of the night, that's when you go to work on the clam flats.

My mother woke up my brother and I one night. I don't know what time it was , but it was a cold starry night. She bundled us, still in our pajamas, into our coats and hats. With sleep still in our eyes, we carried our blankets and pillows out to the car. We had an old station wagon, and we made beds in the back. I drifted off to sleep while we drove. When we got to the shore, she woke us again and told us to stay in the car,that she would be back in a while, and I went back to sleep.

I woke up some time later. My brother was still fast asleep. I had to pee, so as quietly as I could, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The sky was beginning to lighten.

I shivered a little in my pajamas and coat,nothing on my feet but my slippers. There were some low bushes nearby, where I squatted and relieved myself. When I finished, I wandered around a little. We were parked just off the side of the road, just above a short rocky drop to the beach. I carefully climbed down, hoping to find a sand dollar or a glittery piece of sea glass on the muddy flat.

After a few minutes I decided it was too cold, and climbed back up to the road. When I reached the top, I turned and saw that sight I wish so much I could share.

The sun had broken the horizon and a band of rose colored light stretched across the bottom of the sky. Silhouetted in the light, a figure was walking slowly towards me. I watched my mother, waders to her hips,trudging back from the flats, a bucket filled with clams in one hand, her hoe and headlamp in the other. Her shoulders were slumped with fatigue, but her long hair rippled like ribbons in the wind.

Maybe the image has grown more beautiful,more magical in my memory over the years. I don't think it has, but I am alright if that's the case, because it's the way I will always see her.

I wish I could paint, so others could see it too.

This is beautiful. We can see it already, because you are a writer.

 

[MelissaBaby]

Ladies, thank you so much for your kind replies.

 

[adrina]

never had clams - yet!

wine or brandy? either way, i'll be tipping it your way

Vicarious drinking... the best way for me to drink. Salut!

Whole belly is the only way to go.

Fried Clams | Bellies vs. Strips

Those bastards at Seapac only had strips. I feel kinda cheated.

Now I want bellies but that's not what's available. Bastards.

I'd like to share a blog post I wrote a while ago, titled "The Clamdigger."

I wish I were a painter. I have a picture I want to paint. A vivid image in my mind that I long to share.

I wrote recently about my mother, and all the things she did to provide for our little family when I was growing up. It brought back a strong childhood memory.

I was 7 or 8. My mother was making some extra money digging clams. The thing about digging clams is that your schedule is set by the tides. If low tide is in the middle of the night, that's when you go to work on the clam flats.

My mother woke up my brother and I one night. I don't know what time it was , but it was a cold starry night. She bundled us, still in our pajamas, into our coats and hats. With sleep still in our eyes, we carried our blankets and pillows out to the car. We had an old station wagon, and we made beds in the back. I drifted off to sleep while we drove. When we got to the shore, she woke us again and told us to stay in the car,that she would be back in a while, and I went back to sleep.

I woke up some time later. My brother was still fast asleep. I had to pee, so as quietly as I could, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The sky was beginning to lighten.

I shivered a little in my pajamas and coat,nothing on my feet but my slippers. There were some low bushes nearby, where I squatted and relieved myself. When I finished, I wandered around a little. We were parked just off the side of the road, just above a short rocky drop to the beach. I carefully climbed down, hoping to find a sand dollar or a glittery piece of sea glass on the muddy flat.

After a few minutes I decided it was too cold, and climbed back up to the road. When I reached the top, I turned and saw that sight I wish so much I could share.

The sun had broken the horizon and a band of rose colored light stretched across the bottom of the sky. Silhouetted in the light, a figure was walking slowly towards me. I watched my mother, waders to her hips,trudging back from the flats, a bucket filled with clams in one hand, her hoe and headlamp in the other. Her shoulders were slumped with fatigue, but her long hair rippled like ribbons in the wind.

Maybe the image has grown more beautiful,more magical in my memory over the years. I don't think it has, but I am alright if that's the case, because it's the way I will always see her.

I wish I could paint, so others could see it too.

 

[thør]

Now I want bellies but that's not what's available. Bastards.

Smoked salmon bellies awesome tasting.

Smoked Wild Alaskan salmon bellies, that is.

 

[thør]

I'd like to share a blog post I wrote a while ago, titled "The Clamdigger."

I wish I were a painter. I have a picture I want to paint. A vivid image in my mind that I long to share.

I wrote recently about my mother, and all the things she did to provide for our little family when I was growing up. It brought back a strong childhood memory.

I was 7 or 8. My mother was making some extra money digging clams. The thing about digging clams is that your schedule is set by the tides. If low tide is in the middle of the night, that's when you go to work on the clam flats.

My mother woke up my brother and I one night. I don't know what time it was , but it was a cold starry night. She bundled us, still in our pajamas, into our coats and hats. With sleep still in our eyes, we carried our blankets and pillows out to the car. We had an old station wagon, and we made beds in the back. I drifted off to sleep while we drove. When we got to the shore, she woke us again and told us to stay in the car,that she would be back in a while, and I went back to sleep.

I woke up some time later. My brother was still fast asleep. I had to pee, so as quietly as I could, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The sky was beginning to lighten.

I shivered a little in my pajamas and coat,nothing on my feet but my slippers. There were some low bushes nearby, where I squatted and relieved myself. When I finished, I wandered around a little. We were parked just off the side of the road, just above a short rocky drop to the beach. I carefully climbed down, hoping to find a sand dollar or a glittery piece of sea glass on the muddy flat.

After a few minutes I decided it was too cold, and climbed back up to the road. When I reached the top, I turned and saw that sight I wish so much I could share.

The sun had broken the horizon and a band of rose colored light stretched across the bottom of the sky. Silhouetted in the light, a figure was walking slowly towards me. I watched my mother, waders to her hips,trudging back from the flats, a bucket filled with clams in one hand, her hoe and headlamp in the other. Her shoulders were slumped with fatigue, but her long hair rippled like ribbons in the wind.

Maybe the image has grown more beautiful,more magical in my memory over the years. I don't think it has, but I am alright if that's the case, because it's the way I will always see her.

I wish I could paint, so others could see it too.

I spent August of 1964 and summer of 1966 - 1971 on the beach, working the nets, etc.

Your post reminded me of those times as a boy where I learned to work hard and be appreciative for small things.

 

[MelissaBaby]

I spent August of 1964 and summer of 1966 - 1971 on the beach, working the nets, etc.

Your post reminded me of those times as a boy where I learned to work hard and be appreciative for small things.

That's a lesson I wish I had learned sooner.

 

[Fata Morgana]

Gorgeous Melissa. You have a real talent there. Everything I read of yours I either want to tumblr or put in my Dirty Rain thread.

 

[MelissaBaby]

Gorgeous Melissa. You have a real talent there. Everything I read of yours I either want to tumblr or put in my Dirty Rain thread.

Share if you'd like, darling.

 

[adrina]

Smoked salmon bellies awesome tasting.

Smoked Wild Alaskan salmon bellies, that is.

I haven't had Pacific salmon in too long. It's a sad thing. Atlantic salmon is not the same.

I also miss halibut.

 

[NHKitty]

Whole belly is the only way to go.

This ^^!!!

And I've spent many mornings digging clams in Mattapoisett.
Your story makes me miss my Titi Lou...who was always happy to take me out.
Your Mom sounds like an amazing person.

 

[butters]

i'm bloody awesome - the bull and a cow were out this morning, and i got them in ALL by myself *flexes e-musckles*

shame about the other 5 cows that had got out as well. really needed 2 people... wasn't keen on staying on the same side of the gate as the bull, and once he'd followed the cow in, i got out. then the other 5 wouldn't come past me. thank goodness the guy turned up and got them in

 

[adrina]

i'm bloody awesome - the bull and a cow were out this morning, and i got them in ALL by myself *flexes e-musckles*

Wonder Woman.

 

[butters]

Wonder Woman.

nah, that's wings... i'm more like supertwat


if you'd asked me 2 weeks ago if i'd even think about trying to get a bull to go someplace other than he was thinking of being, i'd have laughed in your face. now i laugh in the face of adversity! *strikes S.T pose*

 

[adrina]

nah, that's wings... i'm more like supertwat


if you'd asked me 2 weeks ago if i'd even think about trying to get a bull to go someplace other than he was thinking of being, i'd have laughed in your face. now i laugh in the face of adversity! *strikes S.T pose*

But do you have a cape?

 

[butters]

But do you have a cape?

okay, i clearly need to work on the outfit....

it won't be red

or lycra!

 

[adrina]

okay, i clearly need to work on the outfit....

it won't be red

or lycra!

I think I'd go for a nice pink. I mean twats are pink and if you're SuperTwat then...