So many sad, angry people ask me: Why, Mojo, how do you ever maintain your saintlike equanimity when faced with this vale of tears I call life? To which Mojo replies, Simple. I go to my spot. For just as Pooh--a Bear With Very Little Brain--had his Thinking Spot, so Mojo--a woman with very little else to recommend her--has her Spot, safely far enough away from polite society to render her fairly harmless and easy to ignore.  MORE Mojo! »

Okay, so I promised my Favorite Husband's bear story today. You see, now that it's summer--a cold, rainy summer, but summer nonetheless--on his way home from work most nights my Favorite Husband enjoys stopping at one of three or four places, hiking a mile or so along a dirt road to a Certain Body of Water. He then--so long as no one else is around--enjoys getting nekkid and jumping in the water for a few minutes before re-clothing himself and hiking out.

I am not particularly fond of this practice for several reasons, mostly because he does this alone, which I think is somewhat dangerous. But that's mostly because I myself am not a particular fan of swimming--childhood trauma, boo hoo hoo--for to be honest my Favorite Husband has been doing this regularly since he was a teenager and he's currently approaching fifty and he has yet to drown himself. As for wild animals Mojo keeps mentioning regarding bears, well, that's mostly to pique the interest of city folk who don't appreciate that, while yes, bears are scary large creatures and not to be messed with, by and large they are terrified of people and usually just want to be left alone. Usually.  MORE Mojo! »

Short answer is, if Mojo were a heart surgeon who operated out of her house (don't ask why, you troublemaker, just go along with it) and she was expecting a LIVE BEATING HEART to arrive via an overnight delivery service, she might as well give it up and go into the tombstone business instead. Because it just AIN'T gonna happen.  MORE Mojo! »

Have you heard this story before? Maybe. I am too lazy to look it up, myself. So if I repeat myself, at least rest assure that when Mojo repeats herself it is still a hundred times better than some tiresome people who can't tell a story ONCE without it being excruciatingly painful for their audience. I know someone who occasionally announces "Hey, I heard a great joke the other day..." and whenever they do something inside Mojo dies a little. She starts casting about for excuses to leave. But it's always too late, huh?  MORE Mojo! »

A couple of years ago--the same day the pope died!--our dog George, after fifteen years of keeping the house safe from squirrels, had to be put down. We still miss ol' George. He was one of those magical smart dogs, even if he wasn't very efficient squirrel-wise.  MORE Mojo! »

Okay, I promised you people the Bear Story. I cannot vouch for its total veracity. All I can say is, when I first started at the library--meaning, literally, the first week or two--I did not know any of the regulars nor any of the people who would meet for various purposes, like the book club or the garden club. Also, I started working in the library fresh from having a juvenile black bear frequent our yard a couple of days in a row, necessitating the purchase of an air horn in case the fellow came back. For spring is when the bears come out, all hungry from their hibernation, and that's when they are most problematic.  MORE Mojo! »