If I stand on tiptoe I think I might be able

If I stand on tiptoe I think I might be able to reach it. I'm worried about what might happen after, if course. Once I've pulled it out, will I be able to put it back again?

Or worse, will someone see me pull "50 Shades of Grey" from the top shelf here at the library? After all, what would people think if they saw me, an 80-year-old spinster reading

and erotic novel? Would they think this 80 year woman still has gas in the tank? You bet. There's snow on the roof, but there's still a fire in the oven. Only thing is, I need big

Propane tanks for the heat and that way Grandma will stay warm in winter. This promises to be a cold one. Grandma hates the winter and talks about going to Florida. Buying a house.

"Or maybe, a boat." said Grandma turning on all the stove burners to heat the house. Even with that, our breaths were coming out as clouds and Florida seems so far away, but close.

The next morning, I couldn't quite remember the time I fell asleep the night before. I awoke in a haze, to the smell of

bacon cooking and coffee percolating. Those were two of the best smells in the world to wake up to. Then I remembered that I live alone. Who was cooking? My thoughts were hazy as I

struggled from under the covers and stumbled into the kitchen. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and stared at the figure frying bacon on my stove top. "Oh - it's just you."

Twas then that the ghost of the bacon pig appeared above the frying pan in a golden cloud. "Them! They did it!" it screamed as it pointed a cloven hoof at us. A bolt of lightening

flew down from a poorly-wired ceiling fan and struck both my brother Darryl and my other brother Darrel dead & I bowed down to the bacon pig, took a knee, and never ate meat again!