What is a monkeybox?

When I was a little girl, we had a pet monkey named Amanda. My Dad worked in the produce business, so each night he brought home that days culls in a big box - spotty cucumbers, pithy apples, limp celery, moldy oranges and the like. We called it a monkeybox. It was really just trash, but my Mom would take each piece of fruit and trim it, pare it and cut it up to make a beautiful fruit platter for Amanda. Even though it was deemed trash by one, it still had life left in it and was good for the purpose we needed it. That's how I live my life - thrifting, yard saling, looking for another's trash to be my treasure.

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Twenty Sentences.

 1.  I am here.
 2.  I am alive.
 3.  The emails have started.
 4.  They ask if I am okay because I never post anymore.
 5.  I am tired.
 6.  The business is plugging along fine.
 8.  The Junk Ranch was this weekend.
 9.  It was hot. 
10. Like brain melting hot. 
11. 105 Heat Index
12. I am tired.
13. I saw all my Junk Ranch buddies.
14. I sold stuff.
15. I have stories to tell.
16. I am tired.
17. I'll be back.
18. I promise.
19. Pinky swear.
20. I am tired.


  1. I guess since I follow you on social media I forget you aren't blogging. Take care, come back with stories!

  2. Looking forward to hearing how the Junk Ranch went for you! Been wondering if you are OK and overwhelmed with life. Sometimes life just goes too fast! Rest-Revive-Return
    We all miss hearing from you!

  3. Rest first. Rest until you loose that totally worn down feeling. Hugs.

  4. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.


I love my comments. I'd love to respond to everyone, but if you don't have an email address tied to your ID, please sign your name so I will know who you are! It makes it nice to know who is saying what. Now, leave a comment! Please? ;o)

I Can See You!

Look at my Visitors!

Fellow Junk Followers