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Rick Ryckeley's blog

Horrors of Spring Cleaning

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Mom had no idea what she had done. She had ruined not just my life, but my three brothers’ and sister’s lives also. It was too late to try to undo the damage. The garbage truck had already pulled away hours earlier from 110 Flamingo Street and, along with it, all of our most prized possessions.

Tax drooling time

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Fred warned me for an entire year this would happen. Did I listen to him? Nope, and now I’m paying the price.
It’s tax time again, and the next few weeks will be spent by yours truly pulling out his hair — at least whatever is left that Little One hasn’t gotten a hold of.

Slow poke

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Normally, if you’re gonna break the law, you wouldn’t tell anyone. Not your wife. Not your friends. And you certainly wouldn’t write about it in your newspaper column. Then again, never said I was normal.

The library

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The questions seemed simple enough, or at least I thought they were. Still, the only answer given was a blank look of confusion from the front desk attendant.

Fairytale romance

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To live everyday full of romance, endless love, and laughter are ingredients of days only found in fairytales.
Experiencing the same unconditional love of a sleeping infant in a mother’s arms or the joy received from the whole-body hugs from a child just doesn’t exist for us adults.

My worst nightmare

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Think of the one thing you fear the most. Now think of what you’d do if your greatest fear were about to come true. Would you meet the challenge head on or simply pull the covers over your head and hide, hoping it would pass you by? This will be my world in less than a month.

Slumber party

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During those seven years spent growing up at 110 Flamingo Street, it’s true that I learned a bunch about life, people, and worldly things. Even so, fully understanding some concepts did escape my grasp. The idea of the slumber party was as baffling then as it is now.

A pillow fight

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For seven magical years, my three brothers, sister and me lived at 110 Flamingo Street. During that time whenever Dad walked in after work, he was always greeted with two things.

The phone call

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The Boy called the other day. He called in the most unusual way. The edginess of his voice caused me great apprehension. It was a mixture of excitement, weariness, and yes, even a little tension.


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By midnight the last glass was finally placed in the dishwasher and all the wrapping paper thrown away. The excitement of Christmas had been replaced by a whole-body weariness that only comes from the holidays.

The year in 566 words

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Well, we made it. The last column of the year is finally here, which means if you’re reading it, you must’ve made it too. If you didn’t and you’re still reading this, boy, do I have something to write about next week!

An empty chair

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As far back as I can remember, it had never visited Flamingo Street. Sure, once or twice it had gotten close. It had gotten really close the previous winter. But with a neighborhood full of kids playing all day and into the night, it was bound to happen.


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