Sunday, January 26th, 2025    01/26/25

Shelly Reuben 's Stories


TILTING AT WINDMILLS : Winter Weary

Winter weary Winter Woe I am sick of All this snow. Sniffles. Sneezes Runny nose Frigid fingers Frigid toes. Eaves and gutters Frozen ice Petrified Stalactites.  Walk with peril. Drive with dread Ice ..


Tilting at Windmills: Picklepuss

When she was very young, Marigold had a habit of sticking out her lower lip when she was angry. Her ..


Tilting at Windmills: Lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

The fireplace is going crackle, crackle, crackle, and when I look into it, I amuse myself by thinking up ways ..


Tilting at Windmills: The Man Who Sold Baubles

My name is Chester McBride. I taught literature in Community College for 26 years. In the course of my career, I ..


Tilting at Windmill: The Milkman Cometh

I was brought up during an era when milk was delivered to the door. It came in thick glass bottles ..


TILTING AT WINDMILLS : Loving … Stuff

‘Tis the season of self-denial. ‘Tis the season for self-righteous pontificator to tell us that we are materialistic fools, and ..


Ode to Re-Gifting

Here is my annual (very good advice) poem about saving money by … re-gifting! I have this pair of mittens (Well, in actual ..


Tilting at Windmills: Hating “West Side Story”

It being the Christmas season and all that, I thought it would be fun to scatter around a little “Bah ..


Tilting at Windmills: Should’a, Could’a, Would’a

After seeing an ad for used books on my computer the other day, I got to thinking about missed opportunities. The ..


Tilting at Windmills: Pink

I have a confession to make. It’s pretty much an embarrassment, as I’ve always thought of myself as a red – ..


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I Will Pack And Train
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