2nd cup of coffee

Tyger, Tyger

2012-01-19T09:55:00.000-05:00

With Apologies to William Blake.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the bassinet at night,
What aged Great-Aunt hand or eye
Could shush thy tearful baby cry?

*If you would like to see Josiah "Fuss-Talking" me, go to this link:

http://youtu.be/3NhRH3J7EN0

The Brothers Plad

2012-01-05T10:50:00.001-05:00

Something about this link on Facebook caught my eye. Maybe it was the crisp logo, maybe it was the "D" word in the accompanying text: "Dyslexia." All I know is, I clicked on the ad, which is something I never do, and that led me down a very pleasant trail which I'm happy to share with you.

As I posted about the book, several friends commented about the spelling in the title, that is, "Plad," instead of "Plaid." We couldn't figure out why a book written especially for those who tangle with words would contain a misspell on the cover.

So you know me. I live for the word, "Why."

I emailed the author, Sean Plasse, the following message:Hello. I was intrigued by your ad on Facebook and shared it with friends. We have a collective question: Why "plad" instead of "plaid?

And then came this great response, which I will now share with you with the author's permission:

Hi Linda,

Thank you for the email. We love to get questions from around the country. We appreciate you sharing our website with your friends.

I am dyslexic. 80% of dyslexics struggle with "phonemes", which are the sounds that letters make. For example, the word "cart", is one syllable, and four letters, but it is amazingly three phonemes: K - RRR - T. Three sounds. The human brain is remarkable, in that normal readers can simply glance at a one syllable, four letter word, cart, and automatically "hear" the three sounds in their head: K-R-T. It is really amazing that people can decode words like this, and they use the left, left-back, and way-back of the brain to do it. Dyslexics never achieve this automatic skill. Brain imaging shows that a dyslexic uses the left, left-back, and right-front of their brains. Imagine trying to listen to a book on compact disc, say "Huckleberry Fin", but somebody has scratched the CD surface, and it keeps sticking, skipping, and sounding terrible. That's what it is like for a dyslexic when they try to read and sound out words. Thus, the struggle with sounds, leads to a struggle with words, sentences, paragraphs, and of course the story overall.

The good news is that dyslexia has nothing to do with intelligence. There are many successful dyslexics, like Charles Schwab, Richard Branson, and others. I was diagnosed later in life, after robust testing at the Stern Center for Language and Learning,www.sterncenter.org. Apparently my ability to decode words is in the 14th percentile, but my IQ is in the 99th percentile! It was a great day for this dyslexic carpenter. I received a few years of reading instruction at the Stern Center, and went on to serve 6 years on the board of directors, making speeches for the Governor of Vermont, NPR, local news, and most importantly, raising financial donations to help youth literacy. It was a great time. The one thing I heard over and over again, was that teachers and parents were struggling with dyslexic boys, especially in rural areas.

My friend was a teacher in Vermont, and one day she called me. She had a dyslexic boy as a student, and who she couldn't find books for him. I asked her what he liked to do. She said, "Fish, hunt, camp." I told her I loved those activities too, and to get books on those topics. She said there weren't any. I was amazed/horrified! I had been writing for 18 years, but had never attempted a children's story. I started writing The Brothers Plaid that day, but t just didn't look right. My dyslexic brain skipped each time I read my own title, Plaid. I changed it to The Brothers Plad, and it felt right. It made phonetic sense to me, and I wanted dyslexic kids to feel invited by the title, not intimidated. So, my friend read the story out loud to the class one day, and they loved it. The dyslexic boy took it home that night, and my friend went to his trailer, and watched him read it out loud to his Dad and stepmother. It meant the world to me. So, that year I wrote eight short stories of The Brothers Plad, and the class had a huge plad party at the end of the year...and everybody wore plad and ate watermelon. I spent the next three years writing the novel, with my brother Matt as business partner and editor. The novel is based on a true fishing story from when we were kids. The original Brothers Plad.

The whole book was designed from the beginning with dyslexics in mind. The font is easy to read. Paragraphs are short, with ample spacing. There are visual icons which follow the story, and summarize at the end of chapters. There are words purposefully misspelled in each chapter. One of the brothers, Tommy, is dyslexic, and struggles to read throughout the book. And of course, there is plenty of action, worms, dirt, blood, sweat and fishing.

I hope that this is a decent explanation of the spelling! Here are a few more links for fun:

1. Book Tour - This is a facebook link which gives you a visual tour of the book. You can see the graphic icons which summarize the story for dyslexics. If you start on the image in the top left, and simply scroll through, it is a good tour. There are explanations written below each image.

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.253496668018610.68766.108708752497403&type=3

2. NPR Interview - Here is a link to an NPR interview I did a few years ago, which explains some of my coping mechanisms for dyslexia.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6425164

3. Television Show - Here is a link to a television show, when I was struggling as a dyslexic author to write a book. It was much more difficult than I ever expected, but with my brother's help, we got it done. Now we're shipping around the world!

http://byutv.org/watch/c2650fe3-ee51-4393-84d4-18feccce5f66

Thank you again for your email. It is great to hear from Muncie! Let me know if you have more questions. I love promoting literacy for dyslexics. Give our best to your friends.

Sean Plasse

Author

www.thebrothersplad.com

One of the things my new son-in-law said about this link was," I wish that was the first book I ever read. Maybe I would have liked reading."

If this book tweaks your interest, I encourage you to check out the links and consider a purchase.

I believe it is a new day for those who learn differently from the norm. We have to keep pushing forward.

Thank you, Sean Plasse, for taking on this challenge and for caring about other people. Best of luck to you in whatever endeavor you put your heart, mind and hands to.

Happy New Year 2012 or "My Whole Life is a Party"

2011-12-31T19:28:00.000-05:00

I'm not big on New Year's Eve. It is my least favorite holiday. I get very sad and just want to ignore it because mostly bad things have happened to me on New Year's Eve, like the year my boyfriend popped open an engagement ring box in front of friends and I had to mask my awkward feelings because I knew my answer was "no." But this is a new day. So OK, I give; here goes nothing: "Welcome 2012. Please don't break my heart."

I've got BIG plans for tonight. Rockin out the house (rocking chairs), serving drinks (bottles), jamming to the best tunes of 2011 (mobile music), raising the roof (little bit of crying at the top of our lungs), cleaning up throw up (off of my guests's necks and chins) and passing out on the couch. Of course, this happens every night of my life now. *My Whole Life is Party*

Wake Up! It's "Baby Christmas!"

2011-12-24T08:50:00.000-05:00

Shhh. It's Christmas Eve morning, and the babies are sleeping.

But I literally jumped out of bed this morning thinking, "IT'S BABY CHRISTMAS! Everyone wake up! Babies: It's time to receive your gifts from your Nana who LOVES you!!"

But I didn't because the twins and their mom didn't get much sleep last night. No one, neither Crystal nor the babes, is ready to open gifts yet. But I can hardly wait!

So I was biding my time with a cup of coffee, thinking about the night Jesus was born, and how God was giving this wonderful gift, but the world wasn't ready for it. They were looking for a warrior king, but they received an impoverished infant. How anticlimactic could you get.

Like a gift no one is exactly crazy about, he was set aside so that people could look for bigger and better things.

I believe God used my anticipation this morning to say to me, "This is how I love you and the world! My heart beats wild with love for you; I have so many gifts to give you, but the main one is the Prince of Peace to fill your hearts and lives. Wake up! Wake up and receive your gifts from your Father who LOVES you!"

I am awake! I am receiving! It is a celebration that will never get old, even throughout eternity. "Joy to the World, the Lord is Come!"

Now I leave you with this: Peace to you all, because the Prince of Peace has pierced the darkness of the world and the darkness of our hearts. He seemed to be merely a pinpoint of life in the universe on that night but was in reality the light by which millions see things every day! May his peace fill you today and every tomorrow.

And believe it or not--and I promise this is true--as I type this sentence, I hear a little cry in the other room! They are awake! Let the celebration begin!

The Return of the Christmas Miracle Ham

2011-12-23T08:17:00.001-05:00

^{Proverbs 30:18-20.} “There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky; the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a young woman"

Perhaps Solomon could add this pic to his list of baffling things in the universe. Yes, it is that time of year again to re-post the miracle ham of 2006, which went into the oven a ham but came out a pig again. The only thing added to this pic is the cherry for the eye. There are four things that baffle and amaze me: the births of my children, the chili cook off I won in spite of the fact I don't cook, the phone call I won from Amy Grant which never came, and this ham.

Christmas Letter 2011. It's Like Fruitcake, Only Slightly More Dense

2011-12-19T11:19:00.015-05:00

I used to be a Christmas letter writer. I loved receiving others' letters; I loved writing my own. Then I began to understand that for some, Christmas letters are about as welcome as drugstore fruitcake.

To each his own fruitcake. My personal fruitcake is the perennial classic, "White Christmas," which most people can't understand my aversion to. Have I mentioned once or twice that I don't like musicals?

Anyway, here is my letter for 2011, because for our family, it was quite a year, and I'd like to record it for posterity. And because I try to publish these favorite pics whenever/wherever I can. I'm a mom; sue me.

In the beginning of 2011, my father was diagnosed with an odd cancer located in an odd place (outer thigh) with an odd diagnose: serious. Thus, my parents' lives were turned upside down as they began to deal with decisions and treatments and surgeries, complications, wounds, recoveries.

In addition, after a rush to the ER for stomach ailments a couple of weeks ago, my mother has been diagnosed with heart damage due to a small heart attack. Now we are dealing with decisions, treatments, etc., for her, as well. It has not been a good year for my parents.

However, I am happy to report that they just celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary on December 16. I am so happy for them and proud of them for being such a good example to me and everyone within their sphere of influence over the years. Well done, my sweet parents!

In May, our son Jordan graduated from Anderson University with a degree in Exercise Science and Psychology. He has a steady girlfriend, Natalie, and a steady job at Dick's Sporting goods in Indianapolis. Guess which one he's more in love with, the girl who lives in Indy, or the retail job in Indy. That is a joke, of course. His life revolves around Natalie and their new dog, Bailey, a Wheaten Terrier.

Also in May, our youngest, Kristin, graduated from Delta High School with honors. She is now a freshman at Anderson University. As soon as we graduate one kid from AU, we sign up another because we love to throw suitcases full of money at AU. We are actually very grateful that we can send them there because each of our children has loved the experience. Kristin may love it even more than the other two. She is undecided about her major, but her humorous shenanigans are being well-noted by her dorm mates.

In June, our first-born, Katie, married her long-time beau, Shad, who has a really cool name, I think. They appear to be happier than any newlywed couple I've ever seen in my life, to the extent that I asked her point-blank one day, "Are you two really as happy as you appear to be?" A smile broke out on her face that I will never forget, and she said, "Yes, yes we are. We are just so happy to see each other when one comes in the door." Thank you, God, for a wonderful answer to a life-long prayer of her dad and me. She continues to work at ASon's, and Shad is completing his senior year at BSU. They are moving into a new home New Year's Eve.

George continues to work at Ontario Systems and volunteer with Kids Hope at Longfellow Elementary. His student has come a long since the beginning of his kindergarten year and is now showing signs of anticipating George's weekly visits.

I am in my 8th year at Oneighty, where I continue to type the wrong year on documents, forget to put postage on outgoing mail and explode things in the microwave. I think they'll keep me another 8 years, no problem.

We were Empty-Nesters for about 3 months, and then our lives changed dramatically again, as George's niece, Crystal, and her two preemie twins came to live with us. They came home from the hospital on Thanksgiving Day, and I've been giving thanks for them ever since. I cannot tell you how much joy the babies bring to my life, and how I've come to love and care for Crystal. This is a new day for her and her children, and I see God all over the tiniest details. Here is one small example: When we bought our CRV, I really wanted a Honda Element, instead. Because of the crazy clam shell doors and the limited seating, we chose the CRV. Now, what's odd about this is that for all intents and purposes, long family drives are over for us; each kid has gone his/her own way. So really, that should not have been a consideration in the purchase, but it was. Now, of course, I realize that had we purchased the Element, there would not be enough room for 5 to go somewhere together. I know it's a little detail, but I see things like this all the time as I go about life with the new little family in our home.

Maybe the biggest miracle of all is that I am totally comfortable having them in our home long-term, because if you know me, you know that that is a totally foreign, uncomfortable situation. I just do not do guests well. I can't explain this, but that quirk of mine has disappeared. Poof. Miracle.

Of course, there are emotional risks involved in this situation; we are not blind or naive, but are trusting that no matter how this turns out, that for this time, our home is the perfect place for them. And so we have welcomed with our whole hearts Crystal, Josiah and Laylah. This will be a Christmas we will never forget.

What Are Your Christmas Dreams Made Of?

2011-12-19T11:01:00.022-05:00

When I was a little girl, my favorite Christmas present was a big old baby stroller, quilted blue, a flat canopy trimmed with white fuzzy pom-poms, similar to the one in this picture. Beautiful! But the best part of the stroller was that—oh, sit down for this--was that it was a DOUBLE stroller, room for one baby facing forward, the other backward. A feature like that that could make a little pretend mommy dizzy with strolling dreams!

That memory makes me smile because I realize that my deeper desire, beyond taking two baby dolls in and out of their seats hundreds of times, was to nurture a baby. Something about those plastic dolls of my childhood filled my heart with joy, foreshadowing my life to come, when I would be filled with indescribable happiness while holding my own children, and now the twins living in my home. (Oh, the irony! TWO!)

I think that’s often how we approach Christmas, whether we look forward to family meals, giving gifts, children’s excitement, church, music, movies, etc. Something about those activities fills our hearts with joy—and maybe--they foreshadow an even fuller life and celebration to come.

So what are you looking forward to most this year? If you look deeper into that desire, what hope might be embedded in your Christmas wishes and expectations?

Maybe you haven’t thought to articulate your deepest desires because they’re so disguised (wrapped?) in the cultural trappings of Christmas, which we’ve grown to love (or not love, depending on our disappointments). But is it possible that the deepest desire of your heart might include love and peace within your family? Reconciliation with someone? A deep joy? Personal freedom from things that are destroying you? Peace? Forgiveness? Rest? God’s presence? Hope?

If those are the gifts you truly desire for Christmas, they are available to all of us, but you can’t overlook the source--remember the poignancy and significance in the Christmas story when the innkeeper had no room for the babe.

Receive the good tidings of great joy for all people: “The Savior has come; let there be peace on Earth and good will toward men from God!” Let the significance of that sink in; let it shine in dark places and replace despair with hope.

No matter how far-fetched or impossible your hopes and desires might seem, in your heart and in your life, “prepare Him room,” because “Joy to the world—the Lord is come!” Anything is possible!

©
Linda Crow 2011

I'm Banded

2011-11-22T17:12:00.071-05:00

Right now I am sporting two very fashionable bracelets--two paper bands around my right wrist, the kind that someone straps on you which must be cut off when you want to be free.

They are the kind you get in the hospital if you're the person (besides the mom of the newborns) who has access to the babies and can be with them alone while Mom showers or whatever.

I am the banded aunt-in-law to a young woman who just gave birth to preemie twins, boy and girl. Mom and babies are coming to live in our home when they leave the hospital; therefore, I am like next of kin, in a local, female, married-into-the-family, live-with-you way.

I am banded. This is monumental to me.

First of all, I'm scared. I'm scared about the whole thing, about a little family coming to live with us and all that that implies.

Secondly, I'm nervous. Nervous about losing sleep because 2 tiny newborns MUST be put on a strict schedule, and Mom is going to need help at 3:00am. I believe when one accepts the bands, she is expected to step up. Gulp.

Thirdly, I'm having mild anxiety attacks during the night and first thing in the morning when I wake up because--what if I fail--in any sense of the word--fail to help the mom, fail to do something essential for the babies, fail to remain loving, calm, cool, collected, fail to be wise, fail to represent how a person of faith behaves when she is stressed. So much at stake.

And then, I pick up one of the twins. And all of the periphery concerns, current events and hand-wringing seem to fade into a blurry background.

Can you tell that as I write this there is a knot forming in my throat choking back my tears and that my heart is speeding up? Because this is how I feel when I look at this pic even after having been with them all day yesterday and today.

I do not know how this will work out. It could be a colossal disaster. But it is happening out of love for the mom and her babies. May God step in and fix the things I screw up. (Please, God--just show up! HELP!)

So I am banded and bonded already, and they are just now 24 hours old.

Scared but hopeful.

Lost but trusting.

Anxious but committed.

Mostly, though, I just feel banded, not only at the wrist but in my heart as well. Not only to babies, but to Mom.

2 Chronicles 20:12 "Oh, Lord, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you!"

So, Welcome to the world, little ones. This is your crazy old Great Aunt Linda writing about you on her blog, which will someday seem as antiquated to you as the telegraph does to me. Just want to say, "You are loved." And thank you for the blog fodder I know you are going supply me with, beginning with the outrageous amount of poo you supplied us with today.

Brother on the left, sister on the right.

Month Three in the "My Hair Does Not Grow" Series

2011-11-17T19:07:00.019-05:00

INITIAL CUT, ONE MONTH, TWO MONTHS ...

THREE:

ARE YOU SERIOUS???

Scientific proof: My hair does not grow. If it does look the tiniest bit longer, it's because it's limper. Which rhymes with "whimper."

I take supplements. I eat protein. I treat my hair with the tenderness of caring for a newborn premie. I'm careful not to over process it, over heat it, etc. I condition it. I talk to it in the hopes it will grow like a well-attended to plant.

Stubbornly stunted.

What do I really want? About this length again:

I'd also like to be two years younger, as in these pics. I want this length not because I think this is beautiful hair; I do not. But I felt like a girl then. I have not felt like a girl in 3 months. Sigh. Plus, I gained weight. Double sigh.

But ...

There is hope.

I have a little trick up my sleeve I can't wait to tell you about. I'm working out the details tomorrow. Until then, I will not talk about the hair again until "something" has changed. Winky-wink.

Yum

2011-10-17T21:25:00.003-04:00

I have a love for all things lime. I tried this tonight. It is my new popcorn forever. Thank you, Native Americans, for popcorn. Thank you, Orville, for truly knowing me, for getting me. You understand the lime lover that I am. Thank you.

Gettin' Crafty

2011-10-16T21:15:00.034-04:00

It's Staple Gun Inauguration Day! Purchased with some of my birthday money, this little baby will take me far and keep me from asking the church custodians if I can borrow theirs overnight. You can see how happy I am to show this off because I am totally focused on the gun and I don't give a flying fig about the hair in this pic. Obviously. In fact, I'd say I look a little drunk with staple gun happiness here.

Here's what the back of the Hobby Lobby canvases look like. I had spring/summer prints up before, as you can see in this lively floral pattern.

It takes 5/8 of one yard of fabric to do two of these canvases. You just start stapling. The toughest part is negotiating corners--just like learning to drive. Well, at least you don't have to parallel park these.

So I just push the corner in, then overlap each side, staple all together.

And voila! Don't you love to say "voila!"? I don't have that many opportunities to say that. So, you know, this IS a special day. Now what do you think I should do around it? My walls are so bare, and I do love metal artwork ....

Tree

2011-10-16T21:06:00.002-04:00

This is pretty much the best set of pics I've ever taken. I was on a country road going to a friend's house, when I noticed this little tree. I have no idea what kind it is because in my life I have mainly focused nail polish colors instead of foliage names. Anyway, I'm pretty proud of me and my little cheap camera. Edited on Picnik.

Homemade Caramel Corn

2011-10-16T09:07:00.015-04:00

This is from the hand-written, hand-copied recipe that my friend Diane's father, Merrill Gosnell, made at Christmas one year. She was weak that last Christmas, so he made it so that she could give all of us girls a bag of this wonderful caramel corn as gifts.

I just made this last night. I miss my friend. But I remember the things she enjoyed and loved. She loved giving gifts (like this treat), and she loved her parents. That is her dad in her hospital room in the 2nd picture. So this is a tribute to both sweet people.

3 to 3 1/2 quarts of air-popped white corn. *I used three bags of regular microwave popcorn. Could not find plain.*
1 c. brown sugar
1 stick butter
1/4 c. light corn syrup
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda

Spray a large brown grocery bag with Pam. Pour popped popcorn into bag.

In a 2 qt. bowl, combine sugar, butter, corn syrup and salt. Bring to a boil. Don't let it stick. This may take 2-3 minutes.

Remove and stir in soda. Should foam up.

Carefully pour this hot mixture into grocery bag of popcorn.

Close bag and shake well to coat popcorn.

Microwave on high 1 minute. Shake again.
Microwave 30 seconds and shake again.
Microwave another 30 seconds and shake again.

Pour out onto lined cookie sheet and cool.

You gave me so much.

One More Hairy Detail ....

2011-10-13T00:48:00.002-04:00

This is how it looked yesterday morning after the root color and style. I teased it a bit more, but I cannot make it be Tutorial Lady hair. I realized she probably has a few more hairs on her head than I do, plus my layers are shorter. Anyhoo ... this is my favorite top, a Maurice's purchase. Love the feminine stuff. OK, that's all about hair for four more weeks.

Rootie Tootie Freshen The Rooties -Month 2

2011-10-11T20:49:00.062-04:00

This is installment 2 of the scientific experiment which stems from my thesis: "My hair does not grow." I have hypothesized that when I get a haircut, I will sport that cut for three years before anyone can tell a difference in length.

I took pics at month one as seen in this riveting post: I Got My Hur Did & It Don't Grow to prove my point. I wanted a pic at 4 weeks and then 8 weeks.

Eight weeks. Wow. The roots, they are a showin'... like those of the old oak which got blown over by the "Big Storm of Aught-Seven," or something Ingalls like that.

My sister-in-law posted a message on Facebook about coloring the roots: "Your natural color is beautiful."

Beautiful? Yes, if you like the color "cement." I mean, look at that black and white pic. That is basically the color of my real hair.

You don't see this shade offered very often.

So even though I'm technically 5 days early, I just couldn't take the gray on gray anymore. Tonight was the night.

So I chose L'Oreal 8G, Golden Blonde. I go a little more brassy in the Fall/Winter. Note how this product instantly turns your hair into Taylor Swift hair.

Now, I just happened to find this beautiful person with equally beautiful hair at The Small Things through Pinterest. She has a tutorial on how to work this miracle on your own head. (Please don't fail me, Tutorial Lady!) I bought the duck bill clips she suggested. I colored the hair while watching Biggest Loser. And then I styled it according to Tutorial Lady. Here is what it looked like. I have on no make up. That's not true. I put on lip gloss. (Don't say a word).

Ok, so hers is going back and mine is going forward. Funny thing is, mine usually wants to go backward. Oh well. If I had a cute little Barbie nose like that, mine would lay right, too. And hers is fuller, but I didn't want to tease mine up so much at bedtime. I told George, "I think I'm OK-happy with my hair. Wow. I bet you haven't heard that in a long time. When is the last time you heard that?"

George: "Never. Ever. In my life. I think I need to lie down."

So yeah, on the left is my root growth last month. On the right is this month. You'll notice .... NOT MUCH DIFFERENCE.

And here is the collage: day of cut in August, 4 wks, 8wks. NO DISCERNIBLE GROWTH. However, a very discernible loss of tan.

Oh well. At least I have my duck clips for tomorrow morning. Bring it, Wednesday!

Crutch

2011-10-11T00:32:00.166-04:00

One day a friend said to me, "I don't need religion. It's a crutch."

First of all, let me say that to most believers, being called religious is a bit off-putting. Religion implies "doing," as in "rules." Faith, on the other hand, connotes a way of moving through the world--your relationship with God and your relationships with people. Big difference.

In a sense, calling religious faith a crutch is accurate. If the definition of crutch is something that you lean on, that supports you when you're afflicted, I can see what she meant and would readily agree that in part, that is what religion is.

But she meant "crutch" in a derogatory way, as if to say that the sum total of religion's function is to placate the feeble ("opiate of the masses.")

That's sort of like saying, "The only function food has is to sustain me. I don't need to experience the savory, the sweet, the salty, the smooth, the crisp ... just hook me up to an IV bag of nutrients. That's how strong I am. That's how above the other weaklings I am." To that I would reply, "OK, maybe technically, that's true, you could survive without. But I have to say, wow--you're missing a lot."

Can the enjoyment of food become an unhealthy crutch? Absolutely. But don't throw out the baby with the bathwater, or the edges of the pizza with the box, because I like them.

So crutches can be misused, like any belief system or any good thing in life. Give us humans anything good, and we can warp it. We specialize in that.

Sometimes crutches enable you to walk when otherwise you'd be chair or bed-bound. If for the rest of my life I had to choose between crutches or being immobile, I would choose crutches, in order to live as fully as I could, including moving through the world the best I could. In this case, the crutch would actually offer me freedom.

But not all crutches have the same stigma as religion.

Let's get real. What else could be categorized as a crutch?

First example: People you love and who love you. Don't make me start singing Bill Withers' "Lean on Me." We lean on each other. Sometimes people burden us; sometimes we burden them. Even the Lone Ranger moved through the world with Tonto.

My elderly parents often apologize for needing my help. I am hurt by this apology because they forget or discount how I leaned on them all of my growing up years. Were they thrilled every time I became ill and needed exhausting around-the-clock care? No. It was a burden of love. I feel that way about them now. I want to say, "Please lean on me in your time of need! I want to be there for you!"

Other examples of crutches:
Your job--for finances, since you weren't born with the proverbial silver spoon.
Your car--because it's so convenient.
Hobbies--which entertain you because you need outside stimuli and interests.
Education--which gives you a step up in society.
Kisses, embraces, tears, laughter--when words won't do.

How about this: Is your vision a crutch? Because you can certainly survive without it. How about the ground under your feet? It's supporting you.

So my point is two-fold:

A. Almost any activity or thing can be viewed as a crutch.
B. A crutch is not necessarily a bad thing.

I think the bigger question is why would a person want to box up and label religion and tuck it in the basement never to be considered again?

I think it's a combination of
-a fear of looking weak
-a fear of what "being religious" might require of him
-a fear that opening himself up to things that can't be completely explained diminishes his intellect
-a fear of repeating previous bad experiences with "religious" people
- and finally, plain old arrogance

But what if the so-called weak, dependent simpletons sit at the banquet table and enjoy the raucous party and hearty feast with each other and the host, while the independent, desperado, Nobody's Fool settles for the bland, the predictable, the isolated, the temporal ... the "safe"?

People are free to stay grounded and immobile, but they're also free to fly. Faith is under your wings, like a crutch, and it's all around you as you fly, lifting you higher and higher.

So yes, faith supports. Sometimes it carries. But sometimes it builds up your muscles, smacks you on the butt and sends you off into the world. It also inspires, guides, and corrects you. It does not tie you down; it frees you. It works in cathedrals, and it works in shacks. It works for the wealthy and the poor. It works for members of MENSA; it works for children. It works for anyone who dares to open the box in the basement and just let it be.

You want to get rid of debilitating crutches in your life? Get rid of the false sense of superiority and independence. Open the box, open your mind and heart. Real life is waiting.

O What a Beautiful Morning

2011-10-10T00:00:00.001-04:00

This is what I see when I leave my driveway for a morning run in late summer--truly a joy-filled moment for me. I love to run toward the sun, whether it's rising or setting. I never grow tired of looking at that big ol' ball of fire hanging in the sky. It is always spectacular.

When I was a little girl, before I knew that I wasn't that coordinated or athletic, I used to run all over my backyard like a Banshee. I set up hurdles before I knew what hurdles were or that there were school teams who ran and jumped hurdles. I used my old kindergarten rest-time mat, picnic table benches, boxes, peony bushes--whatever I could to leap over. I would just run and jump, run and jump. I crashed into fences serving as finishing lines. I ran for the love of it.

I wish that someone had noticed this penchant and encouraged me to keep moving when I hit middle school and fell into that phase of inactivity and passivity to which so many teenage girls succumb. I wish someone at home or at school would have said, "Why don't you try this?" (Any sport).

To be fair, once I made the cheerleading squad, I was all about that. All other interests besides boys paled in comparison.

Still, I wish someone had talked to me about taking care of my body and appreciating what it could do when put to the test, and how good I'd feel when I accomplished a run.

I wish someone had said, "Cheerleading is great, but you can't do that the rest of your life. Tennis, swimming, running or golf, yes."

But that didn't happen, and I didn't discover again that I loved to run until I was about 32. Still, even at that "advanced" age, I was blown away by what my body would do when I asked it to "go to the next mailbox, next stoplight." Simply amazing.

Here I am at 49, still going, albeit slow and plodding. But I never feel more alive than when I'm running.

And there are two things in this life I NEVER grow tired of looking at: the faces of my children, and beautiful Indiana skies. I have so much to be thankful for!

Most Memorable/Favorite Movie Quote

2011-10-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

Last week at a small gathering, a friend posed the question to everyone sitting around the bonfire: "What is your favorite movie quote?" Some had to think; some knew right away. I am of the "right away" group. What's yours?

And just in case you're interested to see if anyone else agrees with your choice,
100 Most Memorable Movie Quotes will answer that question.

Mine? Comes from my favorite contemporary movie:

The line is: "Swing Away." Simple, but when you watch the movie, you realize how multi-layered that phrase is, just like the movie itself. There are so many themes in the movie I won't even go into them in the interest of brevity. But here is my choice, for all posterity, in case the Great-Great-Grandchildren want to know which movie Granny liked.

Swing away, children. Swing away!

Everybody Cut Footloose (But Not So Fancy-Free, Mister)

2011-10-07T00:00:00.004-04:00

I hear there's a Footloose remake coming out.

I never saw this movie.

That's because in college, Jorge broke up with me while this movie was in theaters. During this break-up, he took a "girl" to this movie. Somehow, putting quotations around "girl" make her seem ... sketchy, at least that was my goal. But I think she was just really "a girl." Normal and everything.

I saw this girl later on, after we got back together. I said mean things about her-- having wide hips and being an equestrian. ? (I don't know. I was grasping.)

But to this day, when I hear "Let's Hear it for the Boy," I roll my eyes.

Twenty-eight years later, I'm still rolling my eyes and being snarky over one little, teeny-tiny HELLO--MAJOR event.

Anyway, they're remaking it, starring Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough, Dennis Quaid and Andie McDowell. I kind of like the oldsters in this, so maybe I'll go see this one.

Of course, I'd have to get a get date. And since I'm married, it would probably have to be that guy who dumped me and saw Footloose #1 with The Equestrian. Not that I would ever bring that up during the movie or dinner or drive home or anything, oh nooooo.

So how about you ... is there anything from your early dating years with your spouse that you STILL bring up? A date that went bad, a break-up, a horrible miscommunication, an awful, tacky gift? (Please don't let me be the only one.)

Then back me up, spill what you can. Because life is too short to forget these petty grievances; let's make sure we get them down for posterity. LOL.

Splitting Hairs Over ... Hair

2011-10-06T00:00:00.001-04:00

Remember this post: I Hate My Hair (or something like that?)
I said I was going to let the new haircut grow out and do periodic "check-ins" on here to prove how slowly my hair grows, which would legitimize my whining about my haircut, mainly that once I get it cut, it stays cut for like, a year. And then it sort of grows a little, if it feels like it. Or it might just decide to break off and give me that natural layered look, like Madge, here:

She can say, "I meant to look this way," and it's cool. That doesn't work for you when you're a 49 year old church secretary. You just end up looking like Ramona Quimby:

But I don't know if I can do this--that is, not color the roots.

Not that my natural hair color isn't a lovely shade of back-of-the-writing-tablet cardboard gray, because it's just awesome, if you like the "recycled paper on your head" look.

But it is taking all the willpower I have in the world to wait to color these roots until October 16, the 2 month marker of the haircut.

Is this proof that my hair is indeed growing?

Not so fast. I am one who cannot stand any rootage showing. So I colored my roots probably entirely too often. Which may explain the Ramona look.

But I'm hanging in there, in the interest of science (rate of growth, empirical evidence), social science (How will others treat me when they notice the line of mushroom colored hair in my part), and psychology (How long can I mentally stand it before I grab a box of L'Oreal 9G and get after it?)

This could be the longest 10 days of my life, excluding the 10 days I was overdue for Katie or the 10 days before Donny Osmond came to the Indiana State Fair in 1973. You get the idea. This is monumental.

"I is Kind, I is Smart, I is Important, and I is OLD"

2011-10-05T17:05:00.019-04:00

Siiiiiigh

Yesterday I turned 49.

You know what that means.

One year from today: 50

Yes, 5-0, just like SNL's Sally O'Malley.

In my posse, when you turn 50, they do this to you:

They force a Red Hat Society hat and boa on you, amongst other hiLARious treats.

But even though I woke up and found myself 49 yesterday, it was still better than when I awoke at 30.

When year 30 dawned back in 1992, I was 9 months pregnant. During the night, a blood vessel burst in my eye, and I looked as though I had bright red blood all over the white of my eye. My hair was permed. I had on a big, dark green maternity tent and was on my way to church. And someone snapped a picture.

Ever since then, he's been known as "Jorge the Lefty."

So in an effort to be the best I can be in this my final year in the decade of what I once foolishly thought was old but now realize is not, I registered for the Indianapolis Indy Mini-Marathon in May. This means I have about 200 days left to ready myself to run 13.1 miles.

I is kind, smart, important, old and I is CRAZEE.

Anyone else out there fall in the same category?

Oh the Power of "O," and I Don't Mean Oprah

2011-09-21T00:00:00.000-04:00

Not sure, but I think my mom has a crush on someone other than my dad:

She is a faithful Dr. Oz viewer.

I like Dr. Oz OK, but I do not record his shows.

My mom does. And then she tells me all about them. Sometimes I'm not a very enthusiastic Dr. Oz show re-tell receiver.

Today, for example, when I went to bring them a few groceries and meds, she asked me to watch a segment on preventing ovarian cancer. I confess I was not enthusiastic about this, since my friend Diane passed due to that killer. I pretty much hate the topic.

But a few months back, I made a remark something like this to my mom, "Since I'm through with menopause, if I could, I'd just have the ovaries removed. Then I would never have to worry that the silent killer was after me. I think that should be an optional surgery." Obviously, I was very emotional.

Ever since then, she has been afraid I will actually try to get a doc to take them out. I assured her I was just rambling. Even so, she brings up the topic quite a bit.

The segment today was about a diet that helps keep ovarian cancer at bay and may even eradicate the cancerous cells.

One of the diet staples is endive, which I do not think I have ever eaten.

Studies of more than 62,000 women in the Netherlands have found those who ate endive had a 75% reduction in the risk of ovarian cancer. That's a pretty substantial claim, wouldn't you say? Supposedly, all it takes is 2 half-cup servings per week to do the trick. You're supposed to eat it raw. Dr. Oz says it tastes a little like cabbage.

Well, I say it can't hurt to try it. Of course, I'll never know if it's really keeping the disease away.

But it will make my mom feel good, and that's worth it to me.

I wonder ... someday ... what would MY children do just for my sake--just to put my mind at ease? Only time will tell!

Granddog

2011-09-19T22:14:00.016-04:00

I have a granddog. Her name is Bailey. She is a Wheaten Terrier.

She belongs to this couple, my son, Jordan, and his girlfriend, Natalie:

When she grows up, she will look something like this:

Right now, she looks exactly like this:

It has been interesting seeing my son care for this ~~baby~~ puppy, including getting up in the middle of the night to take her out.

Zoe is not sure about her ... niece??

Not that she feels sorry for herself. {Sigh} But sometimes, she just feels as though she blends in with the background when Bailey's around. Actually, she does blend in with the background most of the time.

The new granddog is adorable, but Tiny Tater Tot is still number one in my heart.

Haircut: 1 Month

2011-09-18T21:07:00.045-04:00

This is my "one month checkup," thus the #1 in the pic. Let me explain. Maybe you can relate.

It has never been thick or luxurious. I joke that I have the same exact amount as I did when I was 6 months old. But I guess I'm more attached to it than just by the root.

Oh, the hair woes of cut and color that I have known.

On August 16, I got it cut, and I have been mentally flogging myself ever since. I do not like the haircut.

"What?" you say. "Big deal! Get over it! It's only hair! It will grow back! Be thankful that you have some!"

Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.

But I don't like the haircut. Never doing it again. I will let it grow into three long scraggly strands and braid them up on my head-- or whatever I do in the future, I will NOT cut it like this again.

We went to the Columbus Zoo a few days before the cut. Here is what it looked like. Again, not great hair, but OK hair.

Then I went to see my new stylist (who fixed me up for Katie's wedding in June, as seen here. I loved this look):

So I LOVE my stylist. She is a great person and great stylist. This unhappiness is not her doing. I agreed we should take up the back a little to make it look healthier and a little more trendy. And here is what it looked like the next day:

I had cutter's remorse. I felt like a 50 year old boy, which is bad, since A)I'm a woman and B) I'm only 48. Somehow, I just felt less feminine, and a little exposed.

I felt like:

And that weekend, I had my 30th class reunion, and here's what it looked like:

Oh good merciful heavens. I hate that above pic with a white-hot hatred rivaled only by the white-hot hatred of my ghostly white skin.

The thing is, my hair grows very slowly. Some people swear it all grows about the same length per month, but I disagree. I will have this length for MONTHS.

So to prove myself either right or wrong, I'm going to take a pic every month to chronicle the growth or nongrowth, whichever.

So here is Month 1:

Yes, it's brassy. That's because I desire a warm blonde, not ashy or champagne. I'm ok with brassy.

And just in case you can't tell how much growth there is, here it is in "heat map."

I am not happy wearing it straight. I am not happy turning it under. I am not happy flipping it back, as it is here:

This is how I feel when I leave every morning for work: "I hope this doesn't look too weird." And every time I see myself in the mirror, on the inside, I'm making this face.

So here is haircut vs. 1 month. NOT MUCH DIFFERENCE.

I've had worse. I've had orange hair done by a salon of high reputation. I've cut my own hair worse. I've won a "Worst Bed Head" contest. Still, I am not a happy haircut camper. It's my blog, and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to ....

I'm living with it because I have to. If I weren't an old lady, I'd get extensions.

So what can I do? Nothing. I just can't wait to see how long it actually takes to grow out again. And so, being a glutton for punishment, I'm chronicling the re-growth here.

What's your bad cut/color story?

The Annoying Earworm--or the Song You Must Turn Off

2011-09-17T00:00:00.000-04:00

Dictionary Definition for Earworm: A song or tune that gets stuck in one's mind and repeats as if on a tape, also called cognitive itch, sticky tune.

We've all experienced the earworm phenomenon. And if you are over 40, I'm betting that the popular Coke song of the 70s song lodged itself in your brain for the long haul. That song always made me feel uncomfortable--giving me the same heebie jeebies as a doll with evil intentions. It was as innocuous as a folk song sung by a Flower Child on a mountain top, and yet it was as creepy as a cult incantation:

Question: What is your most recent earworm--or what is the one song you MUST turn off or your ears will bleed?

My current "sticky tune" is "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5. But I don't mind because I'm a Maroon 5 fan. In fact, the "whistle" intro is now my ringtone. So I don't mind that this song is in a loop in my head even as I am trying to concentrate on writing to you right now.

But we don't always get to choose our cognitive itch; it chooses us. Sometimes it's the theme of your preschool child's favorite TV program or a school's fight song. After writing that, I'm glad my earworm is Adam Levine and not Barney the Dinosaur.

There is one song, however, that I cannot stand to hear even once, and this is the backstory of how I came to hate it.

When I was a young teenager, I'm guessing about 14, the lady across the street from us was going through a divorce. In what I can only imagine was a broken-hearted, bleary-eyed stupor, she played one song over and over and over and over ... surely as loudly as her stereo would go. All day long, for WEEKS, the song drifted in through open windows and doors up and down our street. I felt like I was going to lose my teenage mind. Everyone was talking about it; nobody did anything about it.

At some point, the torture stopped. At least it stopped in real time. But whenever I hear the opening chords of this song, I am back in my driveway in cut-offs with my long stringy hair and disastrous attempts at make up. And I'm looking across the street at that plain white house with every window and door open, hearing this song blare from a mammoth stereo, gritting my teeth in frustration. To this day, when I hear the first few notes, I go to any length, scramble every way, knocking over hairspray bottles, tripping on cords, stepping on the dog, to shut it OFF.

This post officially makes Gordon Lightfoot the performer of my two least favorite songs in the universe: "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," and ... "Sundown." Oh, the torture!

May I Pinterest You in Learning About a New Social Network Time Squanderer?

2011-09-15T17:34:00.066-04:00

Pin It
Blogging is on the wane, I believe. It's like the old cordless phone you keep around and use occasionally but do not rely on ever since you emotionally soldered your cell phone to your psyche.

Facebook is going strong, and Twitter itself is "trending" bigger than ever.

But just when I thought I was safe from spending more time staring at this screen, along comes Pinterest.

Also known by me as, "I gotta have my pictures!"

The best way to describe Pinterest is to blatantly steal words from Pinterest:

Pinterest lets you organize and share all the beautiful things you find on the web. People use pinboards to plan their weddings, decorate their homes, and organize their favorite recipes.

Best of all, you can browse pinboards created by other people. Browsing pinboards is a fun way to discover new things and get inspiration from people who share your interests. To get started, request an invite.

First of all, why is this available by invitation only? It's not a black tie gala. It's a giant bulletin board in the sky. It's as big as the Web, and the Web is not checking credentials before you enter. So I don't get the secret society shadow that hovers over Pinterest.

Anyway.

My friend invited me to join, and since I'd already been seeing others post on Facebook about Pinterest, I was curious.

Soon I got the gist of it and started pinning my pretties to my boards.

Pinning pretties has turned into "Gotta get more pictures! More, more, MORE!!"

Check out this great combo of taupe and coral for Fall--LOVE. And Starbucks, too? What the WHUT?! I'm so into this outfit that I want to pin it to my style board even though I've already pinned it. I can't contain my enthusiasm for this ensemble. Or pinning.

I learned that you can put a small Pinterest icon in your toolbar and whenever you're browsing the Web and see something you adore, you can pin it to a board from that website. THIS MAKES GRABBING MORE PICS EVEN EASIER!!

LOOK! It's a picture of an Amy Tan book I just read and loved. And now ... I have a picture of it!

I have the following boards: Music, Classic Films & Movies, Favorite Places & Spaces, My Style, Books, Products & Activities I Love, Favorite Foods/Recipes, For the Home (Which is currently bare) and White. Yes, White.

White is the first of my boards that I will be doing by color. Do not ask me why I thought this was a good idea. Perhaps I thought I'd be teaching preschool and need boards of color?

These earrings are featured on "My Style" board. Aren't they adorable??

I noticed that other people name their pages whimsical names like, "Cottage Dreams," "Outward Bound," "Bucket List," "Plottings and Plannings," "Get Crafty," etc. But I was all jazzed about "White." That's kind of embarrassing. I'm going to have to dress up my boards with cool names. Maybe "White" will become "Alabaster Dreams." Maybe "Stuff I Like" will become "J'adore!"

All I know is, in 3 days, I have pinned 142 items, none of which I will ever purchase, cook, wear or be seriously inspired by. But I gotta have the pictures. I'm outta control.

I can't figure out why this is so appealing to me. But I have a sneaking feeling it has to do with fantasy purchasing. I'm the Michael Jackson of Pinterest, pointing to outrageously expensive knick knacks, saying, "I'll take that and that and that ...."

And right now, I'd like to take this piece of key lime pie to my mouth, but I can't, so I'll just collect a picture of it.

I also have a feeling that I have entered a grown-up version of the Pokemon craze, in which theme was "Gotta catch 'em all!" Sound familiar? Hey--maybe I should pin Pokemon characters on a new board entitled, "Stuff my kids liked in 1996!"

2011-06-30T11:29:00.011-04:00

Coming to you live from my desk, where I'm sitting on a blow up little kid pool floaty thing because my tailbone has decided it needs to play a more prominent, significant role in my life.

I have no idea why it is yelling at me ("OUCH!") but I'm on Ibuprofen and ice and literally, on a swimming pool toy. In my office chair.

I feel completely self conscious (so what else does a blogger do when she feels self-conscious but publish a post about feeling self-conscious?).

One reason I feel self-conscious is that the ring makes me sit higher in my chair.This does not make me feel royal. It makes me feel as though I'm sitting in a baby high chair. In my office.

Secondly, it squeaks every single time I move, uncannily mimicking a gaseous emission sound. In my office,

Thirdly, I have to keep blowing it up. In my office.

Fourthly, my doc asked me in a very serious tone, "Are you sure no one kicked you?" Now, I know why she asked this; she was being a good, caring health provider, looking out for my well-being. Ordinarily, violence is not a funny thought at all, but in the moment, in my situation, it was terribly funny to me and it was all I could do to hold back laughing.

So here I am, precariously perched on a butt-sized Lifesaver, shredding hundreds of papers. This is NOT what I pictured for myself when I was in Brit Lit 400 in college.

Maybe I'll take my ring home and sit in the tub and pretend I'm in the pic above. Vacation--Where are you?!

The Voice

2011-06-21T22:39:00.006-04:00

Anyone out there watching "The Voice?"

If so, your thoughts, please?

I've been viewing faithfully, but not voting. I was never a big voter for American Idol, either.

I enjoy The Voice, but it lacks something AI has, that is, the spontaneity and feeling that most contestants are not already professionals. You hope that some humble person will finally get his/her break.

The Voice, on the other hand, is showcasing really high caliber talent. Most contestants are already singing for a living, or at least as a lucrative side job. When you're watching, you never have to hide behind a toss pillow because you're afraid the contestant is going to fail horribly and you will not be able to go on with your own life because of sympathizing so much.

And AI lacks one thing that The Voice has: Adam Levine.

Did I mention Jorge bought us tickets to see Maroon 5 at the state fair on August 18th?

My musical taste is very eclectic. I still enjoy Gary Chapman, and I adore Maroon 5.

I'm diggin The Voice.

What a Way to Welcome Someone Back!

2011-06-20T20:55:00.056-04:00

I am completely overwhelmed by your loving, generous comments to my post yesterday! I can't even wrap my mind around the warmth from you all.

I would say that I'm speechless in response, but you who know me also know that would be a lie, so I'll just go ahead and jump into some words like a kid swinging over a pond on a summer day and letting go. Not that I ever did that. That would be way too scary for me (and my mom) to have ever considered doing, but I always liked watching people do it on TV.

Anyway, as I sat here basking in your comments, I'm sure Jorge could see, from across the room, the silvery sparkle-twinkle of your love for me in my starry, starry eyes. But just as I typed the first letters of this very paragraph, my little dog made an editorial comment of the stinky kind in my laundry room. Now that will bring a person back to Earth right quick. But that's OK. I'm resigned to and content with my life, where I fight the battle of the [pet] bowels with paper towel and disinfectant on a daily basis.

But for one brief moment ... I WAS Sally Field.

This was also my first day back to work after having a week off before the wedding. Lots of people welcomed me back and asked how the wedding went, and while I was very happy to talk about it, every time somebody asked, I was keenly aware that he/she had not been invited, and I felt a little sheepish. But here's the thing--it wasn't my idea to limit the guests. It was the bride's and groom's idea. They wanted a small wedding, just a few friends, family and God, and that's what we did. Still, I felt guilty.

I consoled myself by telling myself that the people who inquired were probably happy to merely hear about the event and not be obliged to give a gift or sit through the ceremony.

By the way, the whole ceremony only lasted 28 minutes. I know this because somebody timed it and told us. ??

I don't get it, either.

So after a full day yesterday of counting and counting and counting white rented table cloths and coming up short, and after scraping candle wax off of the borrowed cake plates, and after throwing away box after box emptied of contents ranging from candles to lemon drops wrapped in tulle (also pictured here), I went back to work today to begin the busiest week of our year.

This is the big community service blitz week, cleverly entitled, "Serve."

I was bone tired, but I had to hit the ground running.

As I walked through the empty chapel today going about my business, though, I was surprised to see much of the florist's decorations still at the front of the room. And in the middle of the platform on the floor was a bud vase with two Gold Strike roses (pictured here) in them from the wedding. Do you think that made my heart break a little? Yes, yes it did. I took the vase to my desk and placed it on the ledge. Still beautiful, like my memories of the day.

The happy couple are on their way to California as I write this, Mendocino, to be exact. I received a text from Katie earlier today: "Attn: Parents. We are about to board our flight." I didn't ask her to do that, but it was sweet.

So that was my wonderful "welcome back" to blogging, to work and to days no longer filled with anxious thoughts about "what I need to do as soon as I get home ...."

I'm switching gears, but I'm not doing it so smoothly yet.

And now, there is another distraction as I write this. I do not have any idea how this happened, but somehow, sitting here, I cut the knuckle on my right thumb, and I've been wrapping it up in tissues the whole time I've writing this. You should see the typos I have edited. It will not stop bleeding, so I must stop now.

Gee, that's sad when the only way to end your own babbling is by unstoppable bleeding.

Ok, Universe (meaning battle of the bowels and bleeding) I get the message. Time to stop!

PS: Wouldn't "Gold Strike Rose" be a great name for a racehorse? Dave Barry hears names of rock bands in weird word combos; I hear racehorse names. That is all.

I'm a New Member of a Club!

2011-06-19T19:47:00.034-04:00

What's up?!

It has been so long since I fired up this little blog that I forgot the user name and password to get in.

Then I had to look around to figure out how to post a new post.

How can something I did nearly daily for 5 years get so blurry so fast? My last post was only February.

In my defense, if you could view my life from my vantage point, you'd see that it is like one of those front loading washers with events swirling and swishing by, eventually circling around to the first event again, making you dizzy.

From March until yesterday, I have carried with me at all times 3 notebooks full of notes; one for my dad's medical notes because he was diagnosed with cancer, one for Kristin's graduation open house, and one for Katie's wedding.

Also, tucked away in Kristin's open house notes were notes for Jordan, who graduated from college.

So, yes, one very ill father, two graduates, one bride, pretty much within a month or two.

Swirl, baby, swirl!

I missed blogging about the details here, which I'm kind of sad about because I would have had "diary" entries of this time in my life to capture for later years, but I was just too busy or too exhausted to blog. Facebook status updates, those little 420 word blog posts, seemed to work fine.

But I have missed hashing out life on here, so I'm attempting a comeback, if you will.

What I want to say today, the day after my daughter's wedding, is that I now feel as if I've been inducted into a special club because this experience has been so rich, so frustrating, so emotional, so exhausting, that it's really difficult to describe unless you've survived it. Just like the former United States Presidents' Club, you can't know what it's like until you've held this office.

From now on, when a mom tells me, "My daughter's getting married," I will immediately empathize with her and join her "team." I know what lies ahead of her, and I will be there in person or on line with support--because the hazing for this exclusive club is rough! One moment you're happy, the next you're melancholy, the next you're frustrated, then overwhelmed, then just plain fried.

Nevertheless, yesterday proved joyful, meaningful and happy beyond words. Sometimes, you're so happy that something is over and yet so happy that something is beginning, all you can do is dance!

Muncie Newspaper Article on Kelsey

2011-02-05T12:25:00.001-05:00

MUNCIE -- Kelsey Koch's dream to help others through medicine is finally a reality.

It was Kelsey's wish that after her death her body be donated to National Institutes of Health (NIH), Bethesda, Md., the hospital where she spent so much time as doctors fought against the clock -- ultimately unsuccessfully -- to cure her of a rare genetic condition known as Dock 8 Disease.

Kelsey died Wednesday. A memorial will be at 11 a.m. Feb. 12 in the main sanctuary at Union Chapel Ministries.

Even in death, however, Kelsey's generosity toward others shines through. Not only did Kelsey struggle with Dock 8 Disease throughout her life, her younger sister Karly also has the condition. Dock 8 Disease is so rare only a handful of people have it.

"Kelsey was an inspiration," her mother, Tammy, said. "Kelsey did think of others before herself. She certainly cared about people. One of her missions was to save the world."
She may yet do that. Now doctors have the opportunity to learn more about the condition and hopefully find a cure.

No one is surprised by Kelsey's generosity. When others would complain or become selfish, Kelsey had a smile and kind words. She didn't dwell on her troubles, instead looking for joy in even the smallest thing, and she encouraged others to do the same.
Family friend and dance instructor Michelle Jones remembers how Kelsey sent her a kind message through Facebook around Thanksgiving although Kelsey was ill and in the hospital.
"Just the little things that she did to let people know how much she loved them and cared for them," Jones said.

That was typical Kelsey, family and friends say.

Her desire to go into medicine stemmed not only from her love of science, but from first-hand knowledge of being a patient. She had compassion for those with health issues and wanted to help them, family friend Rita Moore said.

Kelsey's love for others was rooted in her faith in Jesus Christ and her family. One of six children of Tracy and Tammy, Kelsey was taught that when this life ends, a newer, better one will begin in heaven. She never faltered from that belief.

"They're saying good-bye to Kelsey is only temporary, and they know they're going to see her again and celebrate her healing," family friend Carmel Read said.

Before one of her most recent surgeries, Kelsey had rare moment of fear. It was then Tammy told her the only options were to come back to her mom or go to Jesus.

"So either way you're going to win," Tammy told her. "She said, 'Yeah, you're right. I want to be with Jesus.' That makes it easier. I gave her those two choices. She didn't even want to come back to me. She wanted to go back with Jesus ... She went very peacefully. (When) she left us, we were singing and it was very peaceful. We knew she was ready because she had already made that choice on Monday."

For Kelsey

2011-02-02T18:10:00.010-05:00

Last year, I wrote about these girls having a rare (11 people in the world) genetic immune deficiency disease (Dock 8) and how my church sponsored the Be The Match event to try to find stem cell donors.

I'm sad to say that the eldest, Kelsey (right) passed away this afternoon at 5:17pm.

Heavy, heavy heart, but she is with Jesus. I know this because she was with him every day while she was here on earth these short years, so this relationship just continues now in a different dimension than we can understand. It's not that big of a jump for Kelsey. Her speech was peppered with references to him, she literally danced for him, and she pointed others to him with a mega-watt smile. He was her all in all, and now she is completely healed, forever. Not one more hour of sickness for Kelsey. Not one minute more of suffering.

One of my best memories of Kelsey is that when she was little and enrolled in a Praise Dance program with my daughter Katie, Kelsey's mom, Tammy, asked me to give Kelsey a ride home, and I agreed. About halfway to my house, I realized I had forgotten Kelsey at church. I never drove so fast back to church or prayed so hard while I was driving as I did to retrieve her, which is saying a lot for me. Upon my arrival, she was fine, greeted me with her little cheerful smile and chatted all the way home. Bless her heart.

My heart is heavy, laden with grief, yes, but also heavy with the rich gifts she shared with us all.

She will be missed. And she has the most amazing parents on the face of the earth. Much love to them.

Blogging Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu

2011-01-31T09:03:00.004-05:00

Actually, I'm not ill; it's more like the winter boogie blues.

"Old man winter's got a hold on me, too,
I've got the blogging pneumonia
and the winter boogie blues."

Taking a little break to re-group. I reserve the right, however, if something super blog-worthy happens in my life, to post.

Talk to you soon ....

Texting

2011-01-17T09:11:00.006-05:00

The other day, my youngest daughter texted me: "Ashley wants to go with us shopping for the senior ball dress. Is that OK?"

Because I was in a hurry, I replied, "Y."

At home she asked me, "Why did you say 'why?'to my question about Ashley?"

"I didn't say 'why,'" I said. "I said 'yes.'"

"No, 'y' is short for 'why.'"

"Then what is short for 'yes?'"

"'Yes' is short for 'yes.'"

"Well," I said, "that is kind of lame. You guys need to make a shortcut for 'yes.'"

"Y."

I'm not sure if she asked "why" or agreed, "Yes, we should."

Communicating with teenagers is tricky. Do you agree? "Y" or "N!"

Mom of Daughters, Nice Work If You Can Get It

2011-01-14T10:24:00.016-05:00

My girls are neither girly-girls nor tomboys, just somewhere in the middle. On any given day, each leans one way or the other, and then her style preference changes.

Last night I took my youngest child shopping for a dress to wear to her Senior Ball next Saturday. Mission accomplished. Lovely short-length teal dress with some understated ruffles around the skirt and some bling at the top. Very much like this dress, only dark blue/green. Little silver shoes to go with. Very nice. Oh to be young and have everything you try on look nice, and you just pick the one you like most. It was fun to see the different dresses on my (excuse and forgive me for saying this, but I can't help myself in this moment of mother-pride) Living Doll. She's adorable. OK, enough of that.

There were other girls shopping for their dresses whom I enjoyed observing as well (which kids call "creeping on" or "stalking," but I had no malevolent intentions, so I prefer to say "observing what was happening right in front of my eyes"). Two girls brought their gay male friend (I know this about him because they all kept announcing it loudly) to help them select and try on dresses, acting as a sort of Randy Fenoli of Say Yes to the Dress of Kleinfeld's fame, only in a Deb chain store in a strip mall on the main drag of a small Midwestern town. The antics of that group were hilarious. But I did notice our Randy taking a few peeks inside dressing room stalls whenever he could, and it occurred to me: what if a straight kid posed as gay for moments just such as this: nice work if you can get it?

Tomorrow: Wedding gown shopping in Indianapolis for the other daughter!

I'm so happy for both girls, and yet I'm missing my little girls who played with Play-Doh and Fisher Price Little People. Hug your little ones today, Mom. When you wake up "tomorrow," they will be wearing formals and registering for gifts.

Big Sigh.

25 Years About to Go Down Da Drain With the Coffee Creamer

2011-01-08T09:48:00.009-05:00

Dragged myself out of bed this morning, headed for the coffee, made the coffee in a sleep-deprived stupor, turned for the cream, couldn't find it, opened eyes wider, couldn't find it, shut fridge door and saw it sitting out on the counter.

My husband, and I use the term loosely this morning, was up late last night, very strange for him, and apparently made himself some coffee and LOST HIS MIND and forgot to put the cream back.

Ruined. Ruined. Ruined.

RUINED.

Cream is down the drain. Marriage is hanging only by a thread.

This is a day that will live in marital infamy for the next 25 years.

Flashback Friday: Discipline

2011-01-07T00:00:00.002-05:00

You know, I did a meme for a while, so I know that it's tough coming up with consistently interesting conversation starters. I do not know how Linda meets this goal week after week. All I know is, once she opens up a topic, she does not leave you without 1 or a dozen jumping off points, which I so appreciate. Here's what's on tap this week; why don't you join in?

Were your parents strict, permissive, or somewhere in-between when you were growing up? Did you tend to be compliant or rebellious? What did you tend to get in trouble for doing? How did your parents discipline/punish you - spankings (and what did they use when spanking), revoking privileges, grounding, time-outs or some other manner? Did both parents handle punishment or did one tend to do it more than the other? (And which one was it?) Is there anything that you have admitted doing since you've been an adult that you got away with as a child? Or is there anything you were punished for that you have since learned your parents had to try hard not to laugh while they were meting out your discipline? If you are a parent, what is something you have done or not done (or vowed you would never do) as a result of your growing-up experiences with discipline?

My parents were, on one hand, strict, and on the other, permissive.

The religious denomination of my youth was very legalistic, so rules were a big part of my life. We did not buy on Sunday. We did not play cards. We did not do a lot of things.

You would think that such rigidity would flow over into things like dress codes, household chores, curfews, etc. You would be wrong.

It was a very complicated upbringing, but it was a loving one, and I was a mostly compliant, rule-following little girl.

Except for this one time and this one rule ....

My parents remodeled their living room and added a sprayed-on bumpy ceiling with little sparklies in it. I was quite fascinated by that bumpy ceiling. Quite. Fascinated.

My mom gave me a serious, stern talking-to about the new ceiling: "It must never be poked with a broomstick. It must never have toys thrown at it. It must never be approached without fear and trembling." OK, I made that last part up, but the ceiling, it was definitely something special. It had sparkles, you know.

But the main rule of rules about the ceiling was, "It must never, ever get wet. If it gets wet, it will melt and chip off, and we'll have to re-do the whole ceiling." I cannot communicate the somber tone of this warning. It was nearly a religious moment itself.

Now, my mom liked to talk on the phone. You remember those crazy phones with the three pound receivers and curly cords that tethered moms so that kids could run around just out of the reach of a swat.

Shortly after the Mt. Sinai exhortation about the ceiling, my mom got a phone call.

To this day, I do not know what possessed me. Like I said, I was normally a good kid. But I went and got a Windex bottle, climbed up on the furniture and began SPRAYING THE CEILING.

THE SACRED CEILING OF SPARKLES!!!!

I can hardly breathe just reliving the insanity of this act.

My mother got off the phone. She looked up, gasped, and after that, much of my life is a blur until about age 25.

Oh, the fear and trembling. Hell hath no fury like the mom of a mushy sparkle ceiling.

She began walking around the house, methodically shutting the windows.

Oh, the horror. She was going to spank me so hard she didn't want the neighbors to hear my wailing.

I was basically dying a thousand deaths.

Here is the honest truth: She yelled and yelled, but I do not remember the spanking (and there have been many in my life). I do not know whether she was just so shell-shocked that she did not have the physical strength to spank me or was afraid once she started swatting she couldn't stop, but I cannot remember being hit. I just remember the yelling and the windows.

That is one moment of discipline I will never forget. And you can bet I have NEVER sprayed a sparkly ceiling again. I live in mortal fear and reverence of sparkly ceilings.

Now I need to step away from this story, gather my wits and take some deep breaths.

And just in case I never said it, Mom, I'm sorry I desecrated the ceiling. If you will forgive me for that, I will forgive you for making me wear your big plastic rain bonnet on the bus to school in kindergarten. I think we're even.

Because the Texting, It is Hrd 2 Undrstd

2011-01-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yes, even the Pope texts. More and more mature folk are texting.

And so it was only a matter of time.... Yes, this came in an email. But it is so good, so good. Creator unknown. Enjoy.

Since more and more Seniors are texting and tweeting there appears to be a need for a STC (Senior Texting Code). If you qualify for senior discounts this is the code for you:

ATD: At The Doctor's
BFF: Best Friend Farted
BTW: Bring The Wheelchair
BYOT: Bring Your Own Teeth
CBM: Covered By Medicare
CGU: Can't get up
CGIP: Can't get IT up
CUATSC: See You At The Senior Center
DWI: Driving While Incontinent
FWB: Friend With Beta Blockers
FWIW: Forgot Where I Was
FYI: Found Your Insulin
GGPBL: Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low!
GHA: Got Heartburn Again
HGBM: Had Good Bowel Movement
IMHO: Is My Hearing-Aid On?
LMDO: Laughing My Dentures Out
LOL: Living On Lipitor
LWO: Lawrence Welk's On
OMMR: On My Massage Recliner
OMSG: Oh My! Sorry, Gas.
PIMP: Pooped in my pants
ROFL... CGU: Rolling On The Floor Laughing... And Can't Get Up
SGGP: Sorry, Gotta Go Poop
TTYL: Talk To You Louder
WAITT: Who Am I Talking To?
WTFA: Wet The Furniture Again
WTP: Where's The Prunes?
WWNO: Walker Wheels Need Oil
GLKI (Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking In)

Of course, here's the other end of the spectrum:

Are you a texter?

Feminine Machismo?

2011-01-04T22:06:00.014-05:00

I was in Walmart today picking up two large cartons of bottled water. While lifting the 2nd carton, I got my finger caught in the thick plastic covering at the end where you insert your hand to carry it. The carton was in the air, and thanks to gravity vs. my noodle arm muscles, was rapidly spiraling into the cart with my finger still stuck. I felt like I had pretzel twisted my finger.

At the same time my brain registered, "MORTAL PERIL!!!" a woman and her child rounded the corner into my aisle.

She was just an average mom like me, with an average kid, who probably wouldn't have given me more than a passing glance had she known I was hurt.

But here's where my latent machismo kicked in: For some reason, I did not want her to know I was trapped in my water carton or that I was in an incredible amount of scary pain.

Later, when analyzing my reaction to her, I remembered that men do not want people to know they're sick, or heaven forbid, hurt.

I had reacted like a man.

I cannot explain why I held in the noises I should have made to express my pain. I cannot explain why I refused to grimace. I cannot explain why I faked a smile at her. I just know I did not want to appear ... weak.

What a tough load to bear--fully human and yet wanting to portray imperviousness to pain, without even understanding why.

So I believe I got in touch with my masculine side today. If I weren't on a vegetarian kick right now, I'd say, "Pass the beef jerky" or something manly like that. But thank goodness I've returned to normal, and I can cry and enjoy a brand new shade of lipstick with much oohing and ahhing. No shame!

Do you ever have random expressions of guy-ness?

A Look Into the Dynamics of My Marriage & Late Night Snacking

2011-01-04T00:00:00.003-05:00

Every night at some point, the point long-past dinner and a reasonable snack time, I want to eat.

But I don't want to eat because I know that it's not in the best interest of my health and weight management goals.

Knowing the right thing to do or not do does not remove temptation, as we know. So every night, I have this talk both inside and outside of my head that goes something like this:

"Wow. I'm hungry. I'd sure like to eat something."

Jorge does not answer. He has been down this path before.

"Can't believe I want to eat something this late. There's no way I should be hungry, but I just keep wanting to eat."

Silence.

As I make my way to the kitchen, I say, "Ack. I shouldn't do this, should I?"
This is a move which puts him on the spot; I'm requesting a response.

"What should I have? Or not have?"

Beads of sweat appear on his brow.

"I know you think I shouldn't be doing this." [Total projection of my feelings onto him.] "Don't try to stop me. You don't know how I feel."

Silence.

"OK, stop me. Tell me I shouldn't."

He shakes in his pirate boots.

Ok, we don't wear pirate clothes, but we should because we're very similar to this clip from Hook, featuring Dustin Hoffman as me, and Mr. Smee as Jorge. Behold the dynamics of my late night snacking frenzy, which is why I often add to my crazy kitchen conversation, "Stop me, Smee":

2nd Cup Remix, Life Remix (Resolutions)

2011-01-03T00:00:00.002-05:00

Re: your comments on what I'm calling my "2nd Cup of Coffee Remix" post (shot in the arm, resurrection post) was heartwarming and overwhelming. Thank you for all of the niceness you bestowed upon me. Humbled!

As I write this, it is January the twoth, and so far, so good on a couple of resolutions.

First of all, I'm on my 2nd day of reading the Bible in a year. I've accomplished this once before, but not in 2010, so I thought I'd give it a go. Today, in the OT, Eve got into trouble, and in the NT, Herod killed a bunch of innocent babies. Wow, with summaries like that, you don't even need to crack your Bible if you're considering this plan.

(Why did I say "innocent babies" above? Are there evil babies? No. Not even the sibling in this, one of my favorite pics of all time, is evil. She's just having an Evil-Genius Power Trip moment. So scratch that redundant adjective.)

Fellow Losties will understand when I say I envisioned the Smoke Monster starring in the role of Satan in both stories. Anyway, I hope to keep this "reading the Bible" performance up because, as you know, being a Christian is all about performance. JUST KIDDING. I'm just proud of myself for doing something two days in a row besides breathing and eating.

Secondly, I'm already on my 2nd day of being a vegetarian. I know; My iron will is amazing. I warned you this was coming, but I only decided a few days ago to start Jan. 1. Honestly, I don't know if this will last. Today the family ate ziti that I had prepared, but I opted for a mix of rice, black beans, pepper jack cheese, a dash of hot sauce and one and a half eggs stirred up in a little skillet. I LOVED it. We'll see what happens when a pepperoni pizza comes waltzing by me on some lonely evening. I may succumb to temptation.

Thirdly, I'm on an exercising roll. My daughter's wedding is June 18, and as I have reminded myself and many others: There's a frumpy Mother-of-the-Bride dress out there waiting for me. My fear is that the only non-frumpy ones will be sleeveless (EEEEK). So I'm on a mission to tone up the wings.

So those are a few of my resolutions. Not revolutionary resolutions, I admit, but still, good ones.

I know, I know. You don't make resolutions. Hardly anyone does anymore. I don't think I did for the last couple of years. Some desire to do so kicked up in me over the last few days, and I just decided to go for it. We'll see what happens ... now that I've said them out loud, GULP, I feel a little more accountable!

If you have new beginnings, let me know!

My blog has been under a robe, or a Snuggie anyway.

2011-01-01T13:02:00.037-05:00

Remember that scene in A Christmas Carol when the Spirit of Christmas Present opens his robe to reveal the spirits of Ignorance and Want? Very creepy. And sad.

My neglected blog now appears to me as if it were one of those orphans under the robe of Christmas 2010. Or The Christmas Snuggie of 2010.

Yes, I received a zebra-print Snuggie. Here's where I'd like to insert a saucy "Meeoww" making fun of this Snuggie, but I don't know what sound a zebra makes. My kids' animal books did not teach me that. I hope it's not "hee haw," because a racy zebra print deserves something way more flirty than that.

So here I am, January, 1, 2011, or as 685 clever people have pointed out on Facebook already:

1/1/11

And I am playing catch up on my blog.

Big news? On December 30, we had an earthquake here in Indiana. You may have heard about it on the news. I was awakened at 8:00 am by my bedroom mirrors and windows rattling. I thought it was thunder or Jesus returning, but when I bolted to the family room and saw that Zoe was still with us, I knew the Rapture had not happened.

Here she is reading instructions about what to do in case of earthquake emergency OR Jesus returning:

For New Year's Eve, the Five Crows plus The Two Significant Others went bowling. We have not bowled in years. I would like to point out that while I did not have the high score amongst the 7 of us, I did best myself by 4 points, from 75 in the first game to 79 in the second. Goal for 2012: Break 80 in bowling.

But my kids did state that I had the best "back it up" technique after releasing the ball of anyone. I have no idea what they're talking about.

Then we went to a much-revered Hoosier pizza chain called Pizza King. When that meal featuring slow conversation and arms so weakened by bowling that it was difficult to lift the pizza to the mouths was over, we said, "Whew! Time to head back home! What time is it? 8:30 pm?" It was only about 6:00 pm. But since it gets dark around 5:00 pm, we're all confused and feel the need to fall asleep at least by 7:00.

So we left, and then Jorge and I went to our friends' home where we played a rousing game of Password and were clearly whipped by the friends who have musical backgrounds and kept receiving, suspiciously, musical terms to guess.

Then we came home, went to bed, and I watched Dick Clark and checked Facebook from there. Highlight of the show: Mike Posner singing "Cooler Than Me" which has been in a loop in my head since October, and I am not exaggerating.

Today I ran outside, enjoying the sunniest, warmest January 1 I can remember, 37*. I have missed the big blue sky lately.

I'm wearing a pedometer daily now, attempting to get my 11,100 steps I'm told I need to get in, and I'm making yogurt smoothies daily and omelets with fresh spinach and mushrooms. I have discovered that if you microwave or saute mushrooms a little too long, they start to pop like popcorn, which makes your plain old omelet kind of exciting and festive.

Aside from marathon Scrabble games in which Kristin has become enlightened to the thrill of the triple word score in the corners and is rabid about getting them for herself, that's about all the excitement here to report.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Little blog, you may step out of the robe. Cause it's kind of creepy in there, and you could use some sun.

Church Christmas Pageant Camel

2010-12-11T07:00:00.001-05:00

I have watched this about 10 times.

Purty Trees and Sweet Ornamentations To You

2010-12-09T00:00:00.002-05:00

Let's link up and tour around to see our trees and any special ornaments we might like to feature, OK?

Here's my tree at night. I know I'm missing a topper. The old one didn't match the new decor because we just painted the walls. They were taupe and cranberry; now they're brown and spring green:

Here it is in the daylight. Please note that I have wrapped gifts this early in the game; I am awesome:

And here is an ornament, hand-painted, by someone else, of my parents. They are about to celebrate 69 years of marriage on Dec. 16.

OK, those are my entries. Would you like to share? Please link to the post of your tree and/or ornament so we can see the loveliness. Thanks for participating!

Interesting Moment at Hobby Lobby

2010-12-08T00:00:00.001-05:00

Love the Lobby.

Anyway.

I was in the store the other day and noticed a family of people who were deaf, two parents and a child. For just a moment, I thought about the challenges they must face daily, and I admired their happy demeanors as they chatted aloud and signed in the store. Not a drop of self-consciousness. Made me smile on the inside.

We happened to exit at the same time, and right outside stood a Salvation Army bell ringer. Earlier, I had noticed as I entered the store (as I had also the night before), that his "Merry Christmas" wishes seemed a little off somehow, a little ill-timed, but I had been in a hurry in the snow both times and did not stop to try to figure out what was slightly off-kilter. But on this night, exiting with the family, he did it again, and I looked into his face and realized, "He is blind."

So the people behind me who couldn't hear the bell ringer or the bell, wished the bell ringer, who could not see them, a merry Christmas, and vice-versa.

For some reason, I was very touched by this.

I'm not sure why God had me there at just that moment to witness that, but I think there was a reason. I've been thinking and thinking about it.

What do you think?

Don't forget to come back tomorrow and link up to share a pic of your tree and a significant ornament or two.

On Wearing Curlers

2010-12-07T00:00:00.003-05:00

Twenty-five years we've been married. Still, every time I walk out of the bathroom with curlers in my hair, he laughs. And laughs.

Twen-ty fiiiiive long years of curler laughter.

Is this hilarious to you? OK, I leave the sides down, which is weird. Maybe mildly amusing, but not gut-busting.

One time, when I was a teenager, I was watching a Merv Griffin show on which Burt Reynolds was a guest. He was jokingly complaining about long it took Loni Anderson to prepare herself to go out on a date. At the end of the story, Burt said, "But when she walks out looking that spectacular, how can you argue?" I have always remembered that corny 80s story and remind Jorge of the wisdom of Burt quite often.

But really ... honestly ... isn't the hilarity worth this: my Derek Zoolander "Blue Steel" look of modeling intensity? That man of mine needs to learn to appreciate me like Burt did Loni!

Don't forget to come back and link up this Thursday for sharing your tree and special ornament(s)!

Post A Tree/Ornament Link Up

2010-12-06T00:00:00.003-05:00

Don't know if anyone else is doing this out there in bloggyland this week, but I'd like to see everyone's tree. How about Thursday, December 9th, you come back here and link up to a post of your tree and/or a favorite ornament?

Feel free to grab the code!

Couple of Christmas Fun Pics

2010-12-04T11:55:00.013-05:00

You may have heard of Ball canning jars. They come from my hometown, Muncie, IN. The Ball Brothers came here during a gas boom and basically built this city on canning jars and such. So a lot of stuff in Muncie is named after the Ball family, including Ball State University, which you may have heard out of the mouth of David Letterman.

Well, the 5 brothers are no longer with us, and I don't know where the descendants are, but their compound of 5 mansions still exists and is used by the foundation for various events. Last night I went to the Enchanted Luminaria walk, complete with horse-drawn carriages, open fires, music in the air, kettle corn, live drama, photo ops, and touring a couple of the mansions resplendent in Ball fashion of yore. Gorgeous.

And here I am in a gift shop with Gingy. You know I have a thing for gingerbread.

And here are Jorge, my boss Jeff and his wife and I in a photo op thingy. We just happened to run into them there. Love them both, but don't tell Jeffe I said that.

And here I am with the big ol' Oneighty Christmas tree, which I decorated this year. I'm pretty proud because singing, decorating and cooking, typically female gifts, are not so much mine. This one turned out pretty good, I expect, because I didn't have to put it in an oven. Yay me. Anyway, these are just photos of some fun stuff. How is your weekend going?

Flashback Friday: Decorating for Christmas

2010-12-03T00:00:00.000-05:00

This week Lid asks, "When you were growing up, when did your family put up and decorate the Christmas tree? Was it real or artificial? Who usually decorated it? Were there special decorations? What was on the top? White lights or colored, blinking or steady? How much did your family decorate for the holiday other than the tree (wreaths, dishes, snowglobes, miniature villages, etc.)? Did y'all do outdoor lights? White or colored, blinking or not? Are there special memories associated with decorating for Christmas?"

Here I am, Christmas, 1964, at my little piano which my grandmother gave me. You can see the silver tree in the background; we had that tree for most of my growing up years. My favorite part of Christmas decorating was the wheel of color that turned and shone onto the reflective tree. I would lie on the floor, listen to the whir of the wheel and watch the colors fall over the tree, onto the ceiling and down the wall, over and over. It was magical. Of course, back in those days, we didn't have sensory overload like we do now. I can't imagine anyone but maybe a cat doing that today. Even toddlers are bored by holograms and time travel.

Here I am with my youngest of three brothers, Donnie. He is 56 now. I love him dearly. I don't have many memories of actually decorating except feeling like I couldn't really do it to please my mom. She wasn't as into "hominess" as "prettiness." I get that now. She had to look at it for a month.

My daughter gave me grief this year because I didn't use any of my kids' homemade ornaments, and everything is color-coordinated. Actually, I couldn't FIND their ornaments even if I had desperately wanted to use only those.
And here I am at 13, with our sophisticated fake green tree. I thought it was the bomb-diggity. I loved that orchid sweater, too, my favorite color. I can tell by the hair that I was in 7th grade here, and madly in love with a red-headed 8th grade boy at my school. He lives in Philadelphia now.

Check out that gold crushed-velvet chair. Note the lack of lights. I'm not sure we had them on when I was young. I do remember some large ones outside around our picture window. That was about the extent of our decorating; Mom did not go overboard in baking or decorating for holidays. But I loved my Christmases and have very fond memories of footed pajamas, my bothers and their wives coming "home," and Elvis's Blue Christmas on our large console stereo, not my choice of music, but that's what I remember. I wonder how my kids will answer this question someday? ("She wasn't 'into' our ornaments ....")

I Forget How to Do Cold

2010-12-02T00:06:00.025-05:00

I've lived in middle America all of my life, which means I've done winter a few times.

At the beginning of each winter, though, everyone here has to readjust to the cold, and the older you get, the more difficult it is, except for one thing: as you age, you tend to drive slower. Like a stopped clock being right at least twice a day, there's bound to come a time when that slow driving is appropriate, usually the first snow/ice of the season, when you don't look like you're driving slow because you're old; you look like you're driving slow because you have common sense that the young whippersnappers don't have. But you're really just old.

Anyway.

I'm struggling to adjust. Today it snowed, and I could not find the new Isotoner gloves I bought just before Thanksgiving. I've worn them a total of one time, and now they are lost. The bones in my hands ached from the cold.

My big black parka kept unzipping from the bottom. I hate when that happens.

My nose ran when I walked across the parking lot. There were no tissue balls in the pockets from last year.

I had to take a heavy load on a dolly across the parking lot. In the snow. Dollies don't have snow tires. They should.

When I left work, I forgot that my car had sat outside all day and that I would have to scrape the windows. No scraper on board.

But I did not do what my young co-worker confessed to today: turning on the wipers and opening the door, which resulted in snow being swept into his car. "Rookie mistake," he said.

I plan to be ready to tomorrow. I will actually wear boots, which means I will not have to putter across the parking lot like Tim Conway's shuffling old man. And I will find those gloves before I walk out that door and zip off to work at 25 mph. I will wear Chapstick. I will play Christmas music at my desk and roast--not chestnuts--but my toes--not on an open fire--but at my space heater.

Winter is here. Tomorrow, I will be ready.

My Boyfriend's Back

2010-11-30T20:22:00.047-05:00

My boyfriend's back.

Oh yes he is, and I'm so happy.

Let me tell you about him:

He's humble, even self-deprecating, yet ambitious, with a professional goal in the medical field, even though the odds seem stacked against him.

He has successfully emancipated himself from both his mother and his boring job and often expresses how much he cherishes his independence. He's a maverick.

He can stand up for himself with high-powered CEO types and rub elbows right along with the common folk in factories.

He can sing, even writes his own tunes when the moment is right, so in addition to being focused professionally, he has a spontaneous, artsy side, as well.

His clothing choices reflect his unique personality; he is no slave to fashion trends. His hair is neat and very stylized. I think Clinton Kelly would approve.

He's not very tall, but that doesn't matter to me. I do care about good teeth, and so does he. I'm talking perfect dental hygiene.

He is the friend of those who are marginalized and misunderstood.

And he's kind to animals. {Dreamy sigh.}

Some people might not appreciate my attraction to his soft-spokeness, his gentile mannerisms, but I've had my fill of the Yukon Corneliuses of this world--so, in the words of The Angels (1963) It's Christmastime and, "Hey la, Hey la, My Boyfriend's Back."

Oh Hermey. I've missed you so.

A Dentist!! sound clip Christmas sound clips

On Sneezing

2010-11-30T10:16:00.015-05:00

You know it's bad when you sneeze so much that you blow the Post-It notes off of things they're attached to, like your monitor, phone, folders and framed pics. Come think of it, you know it's bad when you have Post-It notes stuck to every surface on your desk, flat or bumpy, because you can't remember anything.

Anyway, I'm on a roll. A sneezing jag, if you will.

My boss always has a certain number of sneezes he must get out of his system before his sneeze-a-thons end. I think it's four, and they're Texan sneezes, so look out.

Still, I don't think he has blown Post-Its around like a snowstorm.

Once, when I was in middle school band, I sneezed numerous times, too ridiculously many to count. The band director stared at me as if to say, "Finished?" But I just kept on, not even on tempo. Finally, with that swoopy conductor thing that band directors do, he silenced the band and sat in feigned awe, watching me sneeze. Of course, everyone laughed. Then I excused myself to his office, where I set all of his sheet music on fire and laughed while it burned.

Just kidding. I finished the jag.

I wonder if my sneezes blew any of his papers around on his desk?

That is all for today. For now.

Here's lookin A-choo, kid.

It'll Nearly Be Like a Picture Print By Currier and Ives ... or Not

2010-11-27T10:57:00.002-05:00

Just be glad I'm not cooking your holiday meals. Today it's a turkey for the Crow side of the family. Mr. Tom Turkey is in the oven, and I bleached the kitchen and myself up to my elbows. "Linda, what is that wonderful holiday aroma wafting from your kitchen?" "Bleached Turkey Sink."

hApPy ThAnKsGiViNg ~ It's a Barbie Parade!

2010-11-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

Circa 1970, 8 yrs old ~ Mom's canister vacuum = Macy's Thanksgiving Day float; big balloon = helium parade balloon; Barbies with upraised arms = celebrities waving to crowd; X-treme bangs on my forehead = awesomeness.

Caffeine

2010-11-24T00:00:00.001-05:00

This afternoon, my mother called to tell me something very important: my dad accidentally spiked her coffee ... with caffeine.

This is a MAJOR event.

We have a very reverent fear of caffeine in our family. It works on us like amphetamines in the bloodstreams of spider monkeys.

For about 40 years, my parents have eschewed caffeine. They drank Sanka before the decaf option became well-known. Every restaurant order is punctuated at beginning and end with "DECAF, please." And then when the server comes to warm up the coffee, she may be asked again, "That IS decaf, right?"

But a couple of years ago, along came Dr. Oz. You know, the famous Mehmet Oz of Oprah. The other Gayle.

And we (my parents) believe in Dr. Oz. Oh yes we do.

Lately, Dr. Oz has been touting the benefits of caffeine. Normally, someone spewing this kind of nonsense would be blackballed from my parents' TV.

But this is Dr. Oz.

So my mom called me to tell me that they bought a coffee maker and some REAL coffee.

Frankly, I thought I was talking to someone else's mom for a minute.

She gave my dad strict instructions that went something like this: "We will try a half cup in the morning only. Half real, half decaf. In the morning."

Dad washed the new machine and set it up to go. This afternoon they had coffee, which my DAD fixed. And you guessed it--he opened the real coffee and drugged my mom.

She said, "NORRRRRmally, whenIhavecaffeineIjusttalkandtalkandtalk. Doesn't seemtobedoingthat to me today."

Uh, it was doing that today.

So they are all prepared with their Tylenol PM for tonight because otherwise, they will be like owls all night. Both of them. And then I will get a recap phone call tomorrow about "the night no one slept." I think Dr. Oz should take the call.

Does caffeine affect you?

Why Hasn't JJ Abrams Contacted Me About a Creative Writing Project?

2010-11-23T09:34:00.019-05:00

So last night in a dream, I noticed a bowl of dog food at my feet.

I thought, "I wonder what dog food tastes like?" And then I picked up a kibble and munched.

"It's kind of bland. But the after-taste is bad. No wonder they have bad breath."

Then I walked away.

The end.

Are you kidding me? In a chance to fly above the tree tops, go back or forward in time, to possess any super power--I chose to taste dog food?

Good grief! With a bright imagination such as this, it's only a matter of time until J.J. Abrams of Alias, Lost and Fringe contacts me.

Abrams: "Lid, we're stuck on a scene in which the "real" Earth's Fringe Team investigates people who have been put into an unbreakable trance by a mysterious box. Any creative ideas about what substance in the box could put such a hold on people?"

Me: "Yes! Just as Agent Olivia Dunham arrives on the scene of citizens walking around in various states of zombieness, she notices several mysterious boxes of dry dog food opened and strewn about. Suddenly, she thinks, 'Hey. I've always wondered what this tastes like .... "

One of the Best Things I've Ever Seen

2010-11-17T16:39:00.002-05:00

This touched me on so many levels, I can't even begin to explain. One of my favorite moments is when she says, "We have been vain ... and shellfish." To her parents (how will you EVER let her grow up??) and others who shared--THANK YOU!!

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Hair's the Thing:

2010-11-12T09:51:00.013-05:00

No, I'm not showing the real picture. I'm showing the cover-up.

But here's the story:

My daughter is getting married in June. I'm starting the hair maintenance on all three of the hairs on my head now.

I went for a trim yesterday. I left with a radical, random cut just outside my left eye that is the very same length as the bangs in front. I did not request this.

There are bigger problems to stew about in life; this is true.

But I am still trying to wrap my head around this, no pun intended.

What was she thinking? Parakeets have eyes on the sides of their heads; perhaps they need bangs on the sides of their heads. Last time I checked my three hairs, they were not feathers but indeed hair. And my eyes are on the front of my head.

Evidence: Parakeet, eyes on sides of head:

Me: Eyes on front of head.

So now I'm swooping the two hairs on the right side of my head over to the left in an attempt to cover up the carnage, which wants to curl up like the section of hair in this pic:

Picture the rest of the hair behind that swoop shoulder length. It's just so RANDOM.

OK, rant over. For now.

Tweet, tweet.

Totally Cracking Me Up

2010-11-11T12:20:00.004-05:00

Oprah Invites Hundreds Of Lucky Fans To Be Buried With Her In Massive Tomb

Just to Prove My Point

2010-11-10T13:50:00.002-05:00

Just to prove my "oldness" point: I've been shut out of my own blog for 48 hours because I couldn't remember my own password.

Good grief.

Because the Self I Am Now is Old

2010-11-09T07:42:00.007-05:00

I don't recognize myself anymore. Because the self I am now is old.

Evidence:

I'm going to sit with a friend at a hospital today while her husband has surgery. In preparation, I packed like I'm leaving for the weekend. The only thing I'm leaving behind is pajamas and a curling iron.

I basically ate two breakfasts. I was worried I would get hungry too early, so I felt the need to "bolster" myself against dehydration and starvation. Because you know, people in hospital waiting rooms die of starvation and dehydration all the time.

I packed two pairs of glasses. One for reading and one for seeing far away. But I'm actually wearing contacts. I guess I am determined to see today. Good goal.

I will not bore you with the rest. I'm just sayin', you know you're old when small escapades become a big deal.

That is all. Must finish packing. Must find my shawl because I get so cold ....

A Birthday Picnik

2010-11-08T00:00:00.002-05:00

A very good time was had by all, especially the brother, who is at once a little brother and a big brother, so there is much opportunity to torment and tease.

So now I have three legally adult children. Unbelievable. Where has the time gone?

On another note, I have fallen in love with Picnik, the free (or upgraded for a small fee) software that lets you do marvelous things to pics. Case in point, look at my purty 24 year-old daughter in these pics, black and white, sepia and color. You can remove shine, remove blemishes, soften the whole pic or part of the pic, give it a frame or make a collage. I'm having a ball playing with this software. Do you use any digital photo software or publish your own family albums?

Birfdays. Some Are Special.

2010-11-07T06:48:00.012-05:00

Here she is, the baby of the family. Born November 7, 1992. It was snowing that day. That's one of my clearest memories. I remember lying there waiting, head on my pillow turned to the left, watching the beautiful snow fall so silently, changing the world. It made me feel cocooned and excited, anticipating the little one who would come into our world that day and change our lives forever.

She is the light of my life.

And every mom knows, they cannot possibly know or understand how much we love them, at least until they hold their own little one who will transform their lives and hearts forever. I hope I'm around to see that miracle.

Love you, Kristin Brynn. Happy 18th.

PS: In that top left picture where she is smiling? She is 3 weeks old and pottying her pants at that very moment. I had to completely change her clothes before leaving the studio.

Eye'm A Mess

2010-11-06T07:13:00.008-04:00

Notice I left it small, in case you are having breakfast while reading blogs. Sorry for the ugly.

The dreaded Rocky Balboa eyes are back. Double Benadryl, double coffee.

I get cortisone shots every once in a while to keep this at bay, but whatever it is that causes this (yes, I have been tested to no avail) is stronger today than my meds. Wouldn't be so bad except I'm planning a birthday dinner for Kristin tomorrow.

I hope I can see because I'm handicapped when it comes to cooking already without having limited vision.

The cake may read like something at Cake Wrecks: "Eppy Barthday Krispin."

Elvis Has Left the Building, But I Got His Picture First

2010-11-05T17:09:00.005-04:00

Yes, Elvis made his annual appearance at the Oneighty building today, just as I promised myself at 2:00 a.m. he would. The hundreds of people present for the Thanksgiving lunch loved him as much as they always have, and I got to eat pumpkin pie while watching him be-scarf members of the audience to "Viva Las Vegas." I didn't get much else done today. You know you wish you had my job.

2:00 AM Ramblings About Elvis

2010-11-05T04:21:00.015-04:00

Up at 2:00 a.m., whaddya gonna do? Re-design the neglected blog. Thanks to Hot Biggity Blog and Picnik, I can satisfactorily do what I used to pay people to do. Am I 100% satisfied?

No.

But it was 100% free, so, you know; I'm pretty much satisfied, and that's worth a lot these days, especially after the election, which has the winners gloating and rubbing it in and the losers whining. No one's happy. So I decided to be happy with my free blog design.

How do you like the new glass half-FULL me? It's "change you can believe in." (Um, for now, at least during this post.)

I began re-designing at 2:00 a.m., and it is now 4:27 a.m. I need to go back to bed because tomorrow (today?) is a big day at work. It's the annual Hillcroft Services Thanksgiving dinner in the Oneighty building, with the annual favorite entertainment: Elvis. Or a reasonable facsimile.

Yes, every year, The King of Peanut Butter and Nanner Sandwiches gets our building rocking, and every year, I'm just a little bit scared of him and kind of stay back in the shadows because Elvis is very friendly, ifyaknowwhatimean.

But you know, this year, I'll be so sleep deprived that I might lose all my inhibition and just go with it, the ambiance.

Because you all know how I like scarves.

And this isn't even close to displaying the whole collection.

Mama needs a new scarf to go with the new blog design!

They Call me "Mom" or "Moses" ("Momses?")

2010-11-03T09:39:00.027-04:00

Strange the things moms will do when they're worried about their kids.

Background: My youngest girl has been having some arrhythmia over the past few months--mild, intermittent episodes coupled with some other worrisome symptoms. To make a long story short, she has had an EKG, chest-ray, lab work done, and is now wearing a heart monitor. We have no idea what's going on but trust that it's going to be OK.

However, we are talking about the Crow household here, so even in the midst of this time of concern, jokes are flying. It's what we do.

For instance, one night she was being ornery, and I told her that for dinner, I was fixing her fettuccine alfredo. I asked, "Do you know why?" and she replied, "No." I said, "Because they call it 'heart attack on a plate.'" She laughed a big outburst belly laugh because she's warped like we are.

Another time, she was looking over some birthday clothes I recently bought. Like most kids, she wanted to wear one piece early. She said, "Can I wear this now?" I said, "It's not your birthday yet." And she said, "It could be my 'Sorry You're Having a Heart Attack' gift."

But I do worry about her, of course. Because beneath all of my snark and immaturity, I am a momma. And she is my baby.

So this morning, running late, she zipped past me, and I called after her, "Do you have your yearbook money? Kleenex? (She has a cold.) Do you have your lunch money? Why aren't you wearing warmer clothes?" (We had a visible frost.)

George reminded me that she would need to scrape the frost off of her windows. In an instant, I pictured her in thin clothing, nose running, heart monitor beeping, and her scraping like she was in Siberia. I couldn't stand it.

So I threw on my large robe and went out to check on her, keeping a copy of a John Ortberg sermon I had printed off in my hand because in my haste, I didn't lay the sermon down.

She was in the car with tiny portholes scraped right in front of her face and one on the passenger side.

Good grief.

I made her hand me the scraper, and I scraped as she sat inside warming up the car. Finally, I decided that was enough.

Well, actually, she opened her door and said, "MOM! I'm going to be late!" so I stopped.

And then I saw a passer-by looking at me from the road. What they saw: A barefoot woman in a large white robe holding a stack of paper in one hand and a scraper in the air in the other hand.

And then it hit me: I look like Moses--Ten Commandments in one hand, raised staff in the other, barefooted, robed in white like he was on top of the mountain, very intense.

And then I high-tailed it back in my house because-wowee, frost hurts bare feet once you're off the mountain and your kid is pulling away.

Moral of the story: Strange the things moms will do when they're worried about their kids.

Can you relate?

Random Dozen for 10.27.10

2010-10-26T20:55:00.003-04:00

1. What scares you the most

A) Physically
B) Emotionally

Why does it scare you, and how do you cope?

2. What comes to mind when you read the phrase, "Nothing gold can stay?"

Random Dozen: Nothing Gold Can Stay

2010-10-26T05:36:00.006-04:00

Appropriate for this season and today, for The Random, that is--Robert Frost wrote:

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

And I would add: Nothing Randomly Dozen can stay either.

I'm TAAARD, people.

I completely forgot the list this week.

I think it is time.

Time to shut down the Random, at least on a weekly basis; maybe I could handle it monthly.

So to ease into this transition, I'd like to post 2 random questions today, and you can link up tomorrow with your answers, if you'd like:

1. What scares you the most

A) Physically
B) Emotionally

Why does it scare you, and how do you cope?

2. What comes to mind when you read the phrase, "Nothing gold can stay?"

See you tomorrow, I hope!

Would You Like to Ride to Work With Me? I Didn't Think So

2010-10-21T09:20:00.020-04:00

This morning, I noticed my eyebrows needed tweaking, but I was in a hurry, running late.

Those two situations are not compatible.

Unwisely, I used a little battery operated trimmer and mowed through my brow. (Of course!)

Yelling at yourself in the mirror does not bring back an eyebrow.

I decided to forego makeup until later, so I grabbed all of my stuff and headed toward McDonald's, which had two lines going, lines not long enough to make me late, but long enough for me to finish my face.

I inched my way through the line, adding blush, lipstick, concealer ...

I gave my order and proceeded to the point where the two lines combine, only to notice a woman in the other line inching her way toward the junction.

Clearly, it was "on," to see who would get to the merge point first. The song "Louie, Louie" was on the radio, which inspired me to "go":

Louie Louie, oh no, me gotta go, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, baby.
Louie Louie, oh baby, me gotta go
I said we gotta go now
Let's step on out of here
Let's go!

The racing blood that lurks somewhere within me as it does my actual racing brothers won this contest, even though I had only one eye lined with brown liner and half an eyebrow on that same eye and the top of my hair pinned up on my head in a hump. I felt like Courtney Love looks in this, my favorite picture of her:

Sometimes victory is not pretty. But it's the win that counts. Sweet victory!

Oh, I SO won.

But I noticed as I drove away that my sack and coffee cup were damp.

I pulled into my parking spot, got out, noticed there was liquid dripping down the driver's side door. *shrug*

I got to my desk, put down my food, checked my messages, etc., and saw out of the corner of my eye coffee seeping out from the bottom of my giant cup, running all over and down my desk.

I don't believe in Karma, but if I did ....

So even though it's just a typical Thursday morning, that's how I got myself to work.

Wanna ride tomorrow?

It's Midnight; Link Up for the Random

2010-10-21T00:18:00.002-04:00

Random Dozen: I Get By With a Little Help from My Lid

2010-10-20T00:00:00.002-04:00

Well, as you know, I bombed this week as far as meeting my Tuesday deadline. So sorry. If I tried to tell you why I was otherwise preoccupied, you probably wouldn't even believe me, but I'm not at liberty to tell, anyway, so just trust me--what a week.

I chastised myself, "I should probably have a couple of these surveys tucked away for weeks such as this," but then I realized, "It's a meme. It's a small meme on a small blog about random questions. It is OK to miss a week." There was a time I would have been afraid of losing readers because of a stunt like this, but that time has passed. So while I'm not proud of my failures, I'm not losing sleep over this failure. There are plenty of others to lose sleep over!

Then Tuesday at work, I received an email message from my friend Linda at Mocha With Linda, in which the subject line read, "You'll get by with a little help from your friend." And within this message were 12 questions, all dressed up and ready to go with me, if I took them by the hand and led them here, which I'm now doing.

So all of these Q's come from "deep in the heart of Texas," yea, even so, the beautiful heart of my Co-Lid. You can see my symbolic picture up there of how the Random is being supported by the Mocha. I'm kinda symbolically artsy like that. Thanks for the piggyback, Lid.

Oh, and one more thing: Linda hosts a weekly meme as well, called "Flashback Friday." So you should hop on over to her blog Thursday and read her prompt so that you can participate on Friday. The button looks like this:

OK, now to your questions. Please return here tomorrow, Thursday, and link up.

1. Do you prefer to read the book or see the movie?
2. What is your favorite holiday and why?
3. Which do you like better - the mountains or the beach?
4. If money were no consideration, what vehicle would you drive?
5. What is your favorite cold-weather beverage?
6. How do you communicate most often with your friends: phone, email, text, face-to-face, or Facebook?
7. How do you receive your mail? Mailbox on the porch, at the end of the driveway, down the street, or post office box?
8. Of the four basic personality types - sanguine, phlegmatic, melancholic, and choleric - which is your strongest? Which is your least evident? (See definitions below.)
9. What do you miss the most about being 20?
10. How long from the time you get up, does it take you to get ready to walk out the door in the morning?
11. Who handles the car maintenance and pays the bills in your family?
12. For those in the US, how many states have you visited? For those outside the US, how many provinces/other countries have you visited?

Personality type definitions courtesy Wikipedia:

Sanguine

The Sanguine temperament personality is fairly extroverted. People of a sanguine temperament tend to enjoy social gatherings, making new friends and tend to be quite loud. They are usually quite creative and often daydream. However, some alone time is crucial for those of this temperament. Sanguine can also mean very sensitive, compassionate and thoughtful. Sanguine personalities generally struggle with following tasks all the way through, are chronically late, and tend to be forgetful and sometimes a little sarcastic. Often, when pursuing a new hobby, interest is lost quickly when it ceases to be engaging or fun. They are very much people persons. They are talkative and not shy. For some people, these are the ones you want to be friends with and usually they become life long friends.

Choleric

A person who is choleric is a doer. They have a lot of ambition, energy, and passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were cholerics. They like to be leaders and in charge of everything.

Melancholic

A person who is a thoughtful ponderer has a melancholic disposition. Often very considerate and get rather worried when they could not be on time for events, melancholics can be highly creative in activities such as poetry and art - and can become occupied with the tragedy and cruelty in the world. A melancholic is also often a perfectionist. They are often self-reliant and independent; one negative part of being a melancholic is sometimes they can get so involved in what they are doing they forget to think of others.

Phlegmatic

Phlegmatics tend to be self-content and kind. They can be very accepting and affectionate. They may be very receptive and shy and often prefer stability to uncertainty and change. They are very consistent, relaxed, rational, curious, and observant, making them good administrators and diplomats.

Mea Culpa

2010-10-18T19:37:00.001-04:00

I'm a day late and a coupla dollars short on the Ol' Random. What a week. I'll catch you Wednesday? Thx

Good News For Our Family

2010-10-18T00:00:00.005-04:00

This somber child just got engaged to be married Saturday afternoon. Therefore, she is no longer somber. She is, in fact, in proposed-to, engaged bliss.

From a mother's perspective, how did this happen? I mean, shouldn't she be picking up her toys or going to dance class or getting her braces checked or at least just asking for the car keys?

Congratulations, Katie and Shad!

Time for me to start shopping for the perfect "Frother of the Bride" dress (Frumpy Mother of the Bride)!

OK, So There's No Number 4. I Got Lazy & You Got a Break.

2010-10-13T00:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Alert Readers:

Thank you for all the heads-up I received about neglecting the poor #4. I have no idea what happened to him. Maybe he felt too good to be part of my Random list. Maybe he was a question about national security or the public education system or the meaning of life. And so he just disappeared before I noticed to be disassociated from all the riff-raff questions about high school pictures.

We'll just soldier on without him.

1. Is there a word which you initially mispronounced? Were the circumstances in which you made the faux pas embarrassing? By the way, that's not "foax pass." (I know you know that. Just jokin' with ya.)

2. How do you feel about the use of texting shortcuts and trends? (ex: "I've got ur notes. Get them 2 u 2morow.")

3. Tell me about your high school senior picture. Please feel free to post.

5. Share a high school or college homecoming memory.

6. Linda at Mocha with Linda wants to know: "Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?"

7. Lea at Cici's Corner asks, "What is something you have not done that you desire to do?"

8. Carol at Wanderings of an Elusive Mind ponders, "If you could come back [in another life] as an animal, which would it be?"

9. Joyce from The Other Side of the Pond is curious: "Where were you 10 years ago?" Please feel free to elaborate more than just your physical location.

10. When you are proven to be correct in any contentious discussion, do you gloat?

11. What is your favorite food which includes the ingredient "caramel?"

12. From my 17 year-old daughter to you: "If you could be part of any fictional family, which family would you choose and why?" (She's so cute. And clever.)

Gratuitous pic of the author of #12:

Growing weary of the neon doughnuts. Any suggestions for a new & improved RD button?

2010-10-12T00:00:00.013-04:00

I'm growing weary of the neon doughnuts. Any suggestions for a new & improved RD button? If so, slip me an idea in the comments. You are also encouraged to leave any Random Dozen questions for future use!

This week's questions are an amalgam of your suggestions from last week and my own new ones. (Hello, word--amalgam--that I have not used in years which must have lain dormant until such a time as this.) I remember when I first saw amalgam, I wasn't sure whether to pronounce it a-MAL-gam or AMMAL-gam.

Which leads us to the first Random Dozen question this week:

1. Is there a word which you initially mispronounced? Were the circumstances in which you made the faux pas embarrassing? By the way, that's not "foax pass." (I know you know that. Just jokin' with ya.)

2. How do you feel about the use of texting shortcuts and trends? (ex: "I've got ur notes. Get them 2 u 2morow.")

3. Tell me about your high school senior picture. Please feel free to post.

5. Share a high school or college homecoming memory.

6. Linda at Mocha with Linda wants to know: "Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?"

7. Lea at Cici's Corner asks, "What is something you have not done that you desire to do?"

8. Carol at Wanderings of an Elusive Mind ponders, "If you could come back [in another life] as an animal, which would it be?"

9. Joyce from The Other Side of the Pond is curious: "Where were you 10 years ago?" Please feel free to elaborate more than just your physical location.

10. When you are proven to be correct in any contentious discussion, do you gloat?

11. What is your favorite food which includes the ingredient "caramel?"

12. From my 17 year-old daughter to you: "If you could be part of any fictional family, which family would you choose and why?" (She's so cute. And clever.)

Please post your answers tomorrow, then come back here to link up. Happy Randomizing!

My Birthday Random

2010-10-06T20:07:00.034-04:00

1. From "Men Are Dumb ....": If you had a theme song that played whenever you walked into a room full of people, what would it be?

Probably the happiest pop song ever written: "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves. I know, I should have probably thought of something a little deeper, but this is my first response, so it just may be the most accurate.

2. From Pam of "Alert And Oriented x 4": Which of your shoes are your absolute favorite, and which are of the object of your most painful shoe-buyer's remorse?

I'm thinking of creating a photo file entitled, "Shoes I Have Known and Loved," sort of a "little black book" of shoe relationships. Here are some in ascending order of love:

But I have to say, my running shoes, they are dear to me for what they do for my life. So here's props to the tennys:

I have very little shoe remorse. Once I bought a pair of slingbacks that would NOT stay on my feet, no matter what I did. That was bad.

3. From Susanne of "Living to Tell the Story": Tell about your favorite birthday celebration that you've personally experienced.

When I was 40, my friends threw me a party at my favorite Mexican restaurant. They also invited a few of my other closest friends, so it was very meaningful. Also, that was the year Jorge bought me the Camaro. What a birthday! Maybe 50, in a couple of years, will be just as serendipitous.

4. From Lori of "Just me and My Life": If you were a flavor of ice cream, which would you be?

Peanut butter.

5. Cindy Swanson of "Notes in the Key of Life" asks: Have you ever had a crush on a movie star? Who was it, and are you still crushing?

I've always preferred musicians to actors. I remember when I thought Paul Newman was just an old man and couldn't figure out why everyone seemed to like him so much. The other day, however, I watched a Paul Newman movie and thought to myself, "My goodness. Now I get what all of the fuss was about. What a pretty man."

6. Jill from "Jill Boyd's Place" inquires: Glasses or braces--if you had to wear one, which would it be?

Braces, for they are temporary. I have glasses and HATE them with a searing white-hot hate.

7. Nel from "Fasteneau Facts" asks: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Siesta Key, Fl

8. Thena from "Patiently Waiting" wants to know: If money were no obstacle, what would be the perfect birthday gift to receive?

Strictly selfishly speaking, I would love a shopping spree or new car. How predictable, I know.

9. From "Life Through Bifocals," LynnMarie asks: What is your favorite birthday meal?

Probably vegetable nachos at my favorite Mexican place. But what would really get me excited is no-bake chocolate oatmeal peanut butter cookies.

10. Debby at "Just Breathe" checks in with: Do you still send hand-written thank you notes?

Yes, I do, unless it's a gift from my really close girlfriends. My parents, bless their hearts, write thank you notes to us kids when we give them gifts, which I wish they would not do. It feels too formal and weird, but I don't think they'll be changing that habit since they're in their mid 80s. It's just heart-breaking, somehow, to see that unsteady handwriting in the mail thanking me for some puny gift in light of the life they have given me. Love them.

11. Linda from "Mocha with Linda" poses this question: What is something you've done that you never thought you'd do?

I've been to Kazakhstan twice to teach English at summer camps.

12. Jewel, my homegirl from Indiana who writes at "Musings from the World of Jewel," is very insistent that we answer this: Mount Rushmore honors four US Presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. If you could add any person to Mount Rushmore, who would you add and why?

Dave Barry?
Ronald Reagan?
Billy Graham?

No.

Mr. Rogers.

Your Random Awaits

2010-10-06T00:00:00.000-04:00

Please leave comments as you visit! Bloggers live for comments!

1. From "Men Are Dumb ....": If you had a theme song that played whenever you walked into a room full of people, what would it be?

2. From Pam of "Alert And Oriented x 4": Which of your shoes are your absolute favorite, and which are of the object of your most painful shoe-buyer's remorse?

3. From Susanne of "Living to Tell the Story": Tell about your favorite birthday celebration that you've personally experienced.

4. From Lori of "Just me and My Life": If you were a flavor of ice cream, which would you be?

5. Cindy Swanson of "Notes in the Key of Life" asks: Have you ever had a crush on a movie star? Who was it, and are you still crushing?

6. Jill from "Jill Boyd's Place" inquires: Glasses or braces--if you had to wear one, which would it be?

7. Nel from "Fasteneau Facts" asks: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

8. Thena from "Patiently Waiting" wants to know: If money were no obstacle, what would be the perfect birthday gift to receive?

9. From "Life Through Bifocals," LynnMarie asks: What is your favorite birthday meal?

10. Debby at "Just Breathe" checks in with: Do you still send hand-written thank you notes?

11. Linda from "Mocha with Linda" poses this question: What is something you've done that you never thought you'd do?

12. Jewel, my homegirl from Indiana who writes at "Musings from the World of Jewel," is very insistent that we answer this: Mount Rushmore honors four US Presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. If you could add any person to Mount Rushmore, who would you add and why?

Excellent questions, All! Here we go ....

It Was My Birthday, And You Wrote the Random!

2010-10-05T00:00:00.003-04:00

Asking you guys to submit questions is like THE smartest thing I've ever done in my 47--no, wait--48 years.

I wish I could link each question to its creator, but I realized as people copied and pasted the links would not copy anyway, so if you would like to visit the person who created the interesting question you're answering, please see the comments section of yesterday's post. Clear as mud?

Anyway, thank you all. Happily, I received more than enough questions for this week, so I'll have leftovers for next week! Whee! If you are not included this week, please look for your question next week.

OK. Remember: Read and compose today, post tomorrow, link tomorrow and visit others. Please leave comments as you visit! Bloggers live for comments!

1. From "Men Are Dumb ....": If you had a theme song that played whenever you walked into a room full of people, what would it be?

2. From Pam of "Alert And Oriented x 4": Which of your shoes are your absolute favorite, and which are of the object of your most painful shoe-buyer's remorse?

3. From Susanne of "Living to Tell the Story": Tell about your favorite birthday celebration that you've personally experienced.

4. From Lori of "Just me and My Life": If you were a flavor of ice cream, which would you be?

5. Cindy Swanson of "Notes in the Key of Life" asks: Have you ever had a crush on a movie star? Who was it, and are you still crushing?

6. Jill from "Jill Boyd's Place" inquires: Glasses or braces--if you had to wear one, which would it be?

7. Nel from "Fasteneau Facts" asks: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

8. Thena from "Patiently Waiting" wants to know: If money were no obstacle, what would be the perfect birthday gift to receive?

9. From "Life Through Bifocals," LynnMarie asks: What is your favorite birthday meal?

10. Debby at "Just Breathe" checks in with: Do you still send hand-written thank you notes?

11. Linda from "Mocha with Linda" poses this question: What is something you've done that you never thought you'd do?

12. Jewel, my homegirl from Indiana who writes at "Musings from the World of Jewel," is very insistent that we answer this: Mount Rushmore honors four US Presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. If you could add any person to Mount Rushmore, who would you add and why?

Excellent questions, All! Here we go ....

Birfday Request

2010-10-04T09:21:00.013-04:00

It's my birthday, so in the words of Van Halen, "Might as well JUMP!"

Actually, I'm trying out my new compression socks that came in the mail Saturday. They are supposed to hold my calf muscles in place to avoid re-injuring my injury. Pretty sad when you are so old that you need surgical socks to hold your muscles together!!

Where was I?

Yeah, it's mah birfday; it's mah birfday.

I don't usually ask for gifts on my birthday, but I'd like to today: Will you send me a question that you would like to see on this week's Random Dozen list???

It would be simply grand if I didn't have to

so hard on my birthday.

Cause I'm too busy wearing my NEW RED SHOES which I purchased this weekend on a shopping trip with my Girls Group--woo2thehoo!!

It's not the first time I've done red shoes. Those of you who read here often have seen THIS photo once or twice:

Yikes, I promise not to wear white hose with these new ones.

In two years, I'll be eligible for the Red Hat Society, but until then, I'll just be rockin' these ruby slippers!

OK, so please make my birthday a happy, carefree one by submitting those questions in your comments here! Thanks!!!

Simply Red: Holding Back the Years

Genesis of a Blog Post, Or "Lid, How Do You Come Up With that Junk You Write?" and Flashback Friday

2010-10-01T00:00:00.002-04:00

Sometimes people ask, "Lid, where do you get your snazzy ideas for blog posts?" Well, the answer is, I work really, really hard on being witty, current, snazzy and most extremely, brainy-ish.

Like this guy:

So now I take you to the inner workings of my brain to hook you up with "Genesis of a Blog Post."

Here is an actual Facebook message between Lid of Mocha With Linda and me which turned into a blog post:

Mocha Linda to 2nd Cup Linda: Good morning, my friend! Just wanted to say I hope you have a splendiferous day! Can't believe tomorrow is October 1st!

2nd Cup to Mocha: Good morning, to you, too!! I just came from the doc where I received an injection of cortisone into my left buttock. How's THAT for detail?

My eyes are doing the swelling thing again.

Speaking of Oct., my b-day is this month. Now normally, I don't broadcast it, except maybe on my blog where most people don't know me personally. However, this week, on a local radio station, they started a contest wherein you can win a birthday cake from a beloved local bakery which makes cakes to die for. So I thought, "I will enter." That was yesterday. This morning, as I was putting on my makeup, I heard "Happy birthday to Linda Crow, 48 years old today."

??? I forgot to put in a date, I guess. Sad part is, my birthday is next week, and that's when the contest starts. So now I think I will contact the station and say, "I think I got my birthday wrong."

Oh boy.

I think I just wrote a blog post here! haha.

Yep, I believe I did.

**************

What toys do you remember from your childhood? What did you like to do to entertain yourself? Did you mostly play inside or outside? Did you ride a bike all over the neighborhood? Play baseball in the backyard? Basketball in the driveway? Did you have to "get permission" to play at a friend's house, or were you and your friends back and forth between houses all the time? If you had siblings, was there a distinction between your toys and theirs? Did you "inherit" any toys from older siblings? What were the "fad" or "must-have" toys of your generation? Did you parents buy them? Was there a toy you always wanted and never got to have?

I played by myself a lot when I was little and had a vivid imagination. I had an imaginary friend named "Tacko," who I pictured looking something like this:

When I did play with neighborhood kids or cousins, I played pretend or The Partridge Family. I was usually Tracy, keepin' it real with my tambourine.

I liked to ride my bike and run little races in my backyard.

I also loved Barbies and other dolls, like Baby First Step, whom I have written about ad nauseum here. But she was so cool. She walked like Baby Frankenstein.

Here is a Barbie parade, featuring Barbies riding the ever-popular "Canister Vacuum Cleaner" float. I believe I was either anticipating or had already viewed a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

As I got older to loved to play volleyball in our street at night with friends. We would play well past dark by the street light. So much fun. Especially since the boy who lived down the street was suddenly, inexplicably, very cute.

Thanks, Lid, for sharing life and laughter with me--from miles and miles away! Someday we'll meet in person!

Toenails From a Man. Humor Me.

2010-09-30T08:34:00.001-04:00

It's Girls Group Random Dozen Link Up

2010-09-29T00:00:00.001-04:00

We have contacted our Internet provider, and they said they cannot fix our problem at home until Friday, so I may not be able to respond to any questions, etc., for a couple of days, but you guys go right ahead and party on, OK?!

If you're looking for the questions, please see yesterday's post.

Have fun!!!

Random Dozen from The Girls of Girls Group

2010-09-28T00:00:00.002-04:00

I'm actually at the local library as I write this because our Internet is down at home, has been for several days. Just thought I'd throw in a little "real time" drama for you.

So last night I was whining about not having questions ready for this week, and my partners IRL crime, aka "Girls Group," began suggesting questions like a machine gun suggests bullets. I felt assaulted by questions. But I thank them because I was truly askin' for it.

1. Do you believe, somewhere deep inside, that blondes do indeed have more fun? That they are "dumber" than brunettes or redheads? Be honest!

2. Which animal would you most like to observe in its wild habitat?

3. This week the U.N. announced that Dr. Mazlan Othman has been appointed the official "Alien Ambassador," should any extraterrestrials contact us. Have you, or has anyone you know, ever seen a UFO?

4. Name your favorite Hitchcock film.

5. Would you rather spend time at the library, the mall, a craft store or home?

6. Which Disney princess is your favorite? (Or Disney character, if you are a guy)

7. What kind of art is your favorite?

8. How do you feel about viral videos, that is, videos made by amateurs that end up on Youtube receiving thousands of hits?

9. Where do you buy your jeans?

10. Tell me about your first automobile accident.

11. Have you ever been honest when you knew you would benefit more if you would be dishonest?

12. If you were appointed "Ambassador to Aliens," what would you show and tell first about life on Earth? What would be the most difficult thing to explain?

*Remember to post your answers onyour blog Wednesday, then come back here, link up so that others can see what you wrote, then go visit and say nice things to your RD12playmates! Have fun, and THANKS for playing!*

Honoring My Dad

2010-09-27T00:00:00.002-04:00

One of the best things about blogging is the opportunity to record family moments for posterity, and that's what I'm doing today. Some of you have already seen the pics on Facebook, and some will not be interested; that's OK. Our browsing time is limited, so I'm not upset if you don't read and comment; I'm recording this mainly for my family in the future.

May my children and grandchildren and maybe even great-grandchildren read this post and be filled with pride to know their grandfather was an honorable man both in his spirit and in his behavior. His life has been an honorable one, so this is quite touching to me on more than a patriotic level.

Last Monday, my family gathered in a small county courthouse room to witness my father, Virgil (Bud) Batt, a WWII Veteran, receive the Légion d'honneur Chevalier medal, awarded by the President of the French Republic. The medal, created by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1802, is the highest honor bestowed by the French government. It is the equivalent of the US Medal of Honor.

Here are two of my three handsome brothers with my parents: Don, the youngest of the three, is on the left. He is a golfer. He is tall. He once zipped me up in a sleeping bag, but I forgive him, sort of. The other is my middle brother, Jack. Larry, the eldest, moved to this row later, but I did not get a pic.

After the ceremony, we all went out to dinner and shared this special cake. That is a pic of Dad when he was in service. He was about 21 there, I think.

Here is Dad with my three children. Katie, 24; Jordan, 21; Kristin, 17.

Here is Dad receiving the medal from President Todd Donati.

And here he is with the medal.

And here is the piece written by John Carlson for the Muncie Star Press, published September 21, 2010. I am grateful to Mr. Carlson for such a poignant article.

Pass Virgil Batt on the street, and you might not give him a second glance. Though tall and distinguished looking, he's a soft-spoken, unassuming man whose step has undoubtedly been slowed by the passage of 88 years.

But like countless members of his generation who fought for the United States and its Allies in World War ll, you'll be passing a quiet hero who served his country and, indeed, the world, at a time when it faced a fate that was nothing less that catastrophic.

And that explains why, with a letter read by President Todd Donati at a meeting of the Delaware County commissioners Monday night, Batt was made a Knight of the Legion of Honor, the highest award France can bestow upon those who came to its rescue so long ago.

"It means a lot to me," Batt said, simply, as he delivered a few remarks to gathered family members, friends and folks from his church, New Horizon Church of the Nazarene, where a Bible study was canceled so they could attend the ceremony.

Batt learned he was nominated for the medal -- which was created in 1802 by none other than Napoleon Bonaparte --- when he was contacted by French embassies in Washington, D.C., and Chicago beginning about eight months ago.

In the letter from Chicago's French consul general, Graham Paul explained the reason.

"Through this award," he wrote, "the French government pays tribute to the soldiers who did so much for France and Western Europe. More than 65 years ago, you gave your youth to France and the French people. Many of your fellow soldiers did not return, but they remain in our hearts.

"Thanks to the courage of these soldiers, to our American friends and Allies, France has been living in peace for six decades. They saved us and we will never forget. I want you to know that for us, the French people, they are heroes. Gratitude and remembrance are forever in our souls."

It was a poignant moment.

Early on, the road to Monday night's high honor led the boy from a separated family through Wilson Junior High School, after which he dropped out to go to work as a furniture mover during the Great Depression years.

In its own way, such labor offered him a higher education.

"Those Ball State pianos were rough!" he said with a quiet chuckle in an interview that was conducted last week, discussing the effort required to move them.

It was 1941 when he married a neighbor girl, now his wife of 68 years, Delphia Lucille Batt, and 1942 when he was drafted, ending up in an Army anti-tank outfit.

Like so many of his generation, Batt is hardly an effusive speaker when asked about his war experiences, though he'll admit he can talk about them today easier than he could back when the memories were fresher.

Did he see extensive combat?

"Pretty good," he answered, affirmatively.

A Jeep driver and radio man in a platoon that hauled and manned three tank-killing cannons, he recalled situations he thought he wouldn't survive, and even the very first time he prayed in combat, finding himself in a knocked out American half-track in which he believed he'd met his end.

"I'm a strong believer in prayer," Batt continued.

He's a believer in forgiveness, too.

"I felt sorry for the French," he said, noting how the war ravaged their country. "But I even felt sorry for the German people. Germany was pretty well beat up, too, when we got done with them."

Besides returning from war with his faith intact, he also had a number of citations, including a Bronze Star and a Presidential Unit Citation for action that his 3rd Platoon engaged in from March 6-7, 1945. Those and other medals are framed in his home now.

The father of four doesn't need them, however, to stir his war memories. The veterans' graves at Beech Grove Cemetery, where a cousin who was killed in the Pacific is buried, will do it.

So will a quick trip up north from here.

"I tell you," said Batt, who continued with a career in the freight and transport business after the war. "When I go to the veterans hospital in Marion and I pass that military graveyard, I think (to myself) how lucky you are."

At Monday night's ceremony, though, we in the audience applauded Batt and all the others like him, and knew that we are the truly lucky ones.

On Perfection

2010-09-25T00:00:00.000-04:00

Flashback Friday

2010-09-23T09:15:00.016-04:00

Did you like to read when you were a child? What were your favorite genres, books or series? Did you read books because of the author or because of the title/plot? Did you own many books? Did your school distribute the Scholastic book orders (or some other type)? Did you visit the library often? Was there a summer reading program when you were young, and did you participate? Do you have any particular memories of your school libraries? What were your favorites and least favorites among the classics (the ones high school English teachers assign!)? If you didn't like reading, do you like it more today than you did then?

I loved little Golden Books, Little Red Riding Hood being one of the favorites. I can still remember the way the light came through the leaves of the trees in the forest and shone on the dirt path.

Mr. Grabbit was about a stingy, materialistic rabbit who took more than he needed of everything and ended up precariously flying in a storm because he had too many umbrellas which caught him up in the air-- a slightly attractive, slightly horrifying thought when you're six years old!

I also had little prayer books that I cherished, and they helped form my spiritual life.

Scholastic book orders were some of the best days of the school year for me. I felt absolutely RICH when my two or three books came. Clifford was a favorite Thank you, Mom and Dad! What a sweet memory I had not thought of in so long ....

I also enjoyed the SRA reading program which let you see yourself progressing through color-coded levels. Now this was a sport I could compete in!

Summertime meant Bookmobile time. I can still remember the unique smell of the books mixed with diesel fuel once you entered and how books were arranged by grade level on slanted shelves to keep them from falling off.

In high school, I fell in love with Charles Dickens and have never completely gotten over him. And thank you, Mrs. Linda Ayres, Ms. Sondra Seibold and Mrs. Ruth Hillman at Muncie Southside Highschool for instilling a love for reading and writing. Sondra Seibold introduced us to Shakespeare, and I will never forget that experience.

I went on to become an English major at Ball State University, so I love the classics and rarely read contemporary fiction. Right now, however, I'm trying to finally finish John Grisham's A Painted House.

Thanks, Lid, for jarring my memory. I don't know how you come up with so many questions each week on one topic when I can't come up with 12 random ones easily!!

My Turn

2010-09-22T20:47:00.041-04:00

1. Have you, or has someone close to you, ever won an award for anything?

I'm going to write a post and add sweet pictures of my dad's award ceremony this week, so I'll just coyly say "yes" for now!

2. Who is the nearest relative to you who has served in the US Military?

My father is a WWII veteran. Unlike many families, we have had few relatives in the armed services. Jorge has a nephew in the Navy in Guam right now, however.

3. Share something that stirs the patriotic spirit in you.

WWII history moves me because for most, it seemed to be a conflict of pure evil vs good. It was the greatest generation of people in history, in my opinion.

4. Where are you in the birth order in your family? Do you think your "placement" made a difference in your personality?

I am 4th, the baby. But the boys were 16, 12 and 8 when I was born, so I was also like a first-born, or a grandchild, after a few years because all my brothers were gone while I was growing up. In fact, I do not remember living at home with the older two. I have a tendency to sit back and let people "do" for me, unless I mind myself and stay alert to being proactive and helpful. On the other hand, I do have some first-born tendencies as well, but not nearly as many as "baby syndrome" qualities!

5. Name one trait you hope you carry that was evidenced in your parents or grandparents.

Faithfulness, on many levels.

6. If female, do you prefer wearing a skirt or pants? If male, shirt and tie or polo?

I actually like wearing skirts, if they're cotton and comfy! If not, I love my jeans and black tops, the old fall-back.

7. Approximately how many times do you wake during the night? What do you do to go back to sleep?

Well. I wake up as many times as my possessed legs will have it. The calves seize up like the concrete stops in parking lot spaces. If we had an intruder, it would be great if I could unattach my calf and hit him over the head because he would surely die. WOW. I'm eating bananas (potassium), taking calcium & potassium, drinking lots of water, stretching, etc., but to no avail. If I had a red cape and boots, I could be Ms. Superman. It's ridiculous.

8. Share a favorite movie quote.

I wish I could post the video, but the lines are only available within the middle of a long vignette. But basically, it's the movie "What's Up, Doc," with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal, a favorite comedy of mine. At the end of the movie, Streisand's character turns to O'Neal's and says, batting her eyes, "Love means never having to say you're sorry," which is a wink & nod to the famous line from the movie O'Neal was best known for, "Love Story," with Ali McGraw. And O'Neal's character looks at her in disbelief and says, "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Completely cracks me up every time. The epitome of wit and irony and self-deprecating humor. Love it.

9. What is your favorite Fall candle scent?

Currently, banana nut cake, which my office mate is burning daily. I'm about to leave teeth marks in his candle when he's not looking.

10. What is one Fall activity you're looking forward to?

Visiting a place called Brown County, IN, where the autumnal foliage is postcard-worthy.

11. Tell us about a pleasant surprise that happened to you recently.

A beautiful orchid plant left at my desk, finding a nice car for Kristin, my list could go on. I am blessed!

12. What was it like when you first met your in-laws-to-be?

I do not remember the first moment, but I liked them immediately and felt that the vibes were reciprocated. I always got on with them well, although Jorge's mother has now passed.

I sincerely appreciate your faithfulness and enthusiasm each week here at the Random. I wish I could get around to visit you all, but I just can't do it and keep an actual job and actual home and family! So thanks for understanding. Your continuing interest and enjoyment of this meme is another wonerful surprise I count for number 11!

Random Dozen, Hello Fall

2010-09-22T00:00:00.000-04:00

1. Have you, or has someone close to you, ever won an award for anything?

2. Who is the nearest relative to you who has served in the US Military?

3. Share something that stirs the patriotic spirit in you.

4. Where are you in the birth order in your family? Do you think your "placement" made a difference in your personality?

5. Name one trait you hope you carry that was evidenced in your parents or grandparents.

6. If female, do you prefer wearing a skirt or pants? If male, shirt and tie or polo?

7. Approximately how many times do you wake during the night? What do you do to go back to sleep?

8. Share a favorite movie quote.

9. What is your favorite Fall candle scent?

10. What is one Fall activity you're looking forward to?

11. Tell us about a pleasant surprise that happened to you recently.

12. What was it like when you first met your in-laws-to-be?

Really Random Dozen ~ Happy First Day of Fall!

2010-09-21T00:00:00.000-04:00

This is a super-duper amped up Random because I just sat down to copy my previously-created questions here and discovered I accidentally gave them to my just-moved-out daughter in a pile of her mail. So she's probably at home right now (Monday night, 9:37) trying to figure out why in the world I gave her such a strange list! "Why would Mom want to know my favorite flavor of gum???"

I tried to call her, but she's not answering, so I'm on my own. I have to come up with 12 questions for you asap. Remember to post your answers tomorrow and then immediately come here to link up.

1. Have you, or has someone close to you, ever won an award for anything? (I just came from my dad's ceremony wherein he was given a medal of honor by the French government for service in France in WWII. Pictures to follow.)

2. Who is the nearest relative to you who has served in the US Military?

3. Share something that stirs the patriotic spirit in you.

4. Where are you in the birth order in your family? Do you think your "placement" made a difference in your personality?

5. Name one trait you hope you carry that was evidenced in your parents or grandparents.

6. If female, do you prefer wearing a skirt or pants? If male, shirt and tie or polo?

7. Approximately how many times do you wake during the night? What do you do to go back to sleep?

8. Share a favorite movie quote.

9. What is your favorite Fall candle scent?

10. What is one Fall activity you're looking forward to?

11. Tell us about a pleasant surprise that happened to you recently.

12. What was it like when you first met your in-laws-to-be?

Tales From the Mid-Life Brain Or The Woman Who Once Was "Mommy"

2010-09-20T00:00:00.018-04:00

Happy Monday to you!

Now that we have the niceties out of the way, let me say that I think my brain is dissolving.

In case you didn't know, when you become peri-menopausal, your brain and body start to dissolve, mainly from exposure to the inexplicably high levels of natural gas you emit.

In fact, every time I bend, I remember that there is more than one meaning to the British signs along the trains: "Mind the gap." For real, there is a "Facts of Life" episode for every mid-life woman wherein she earns the nickname "Tootie."

I hardly recognize myself anymore. My kids want the mom back who never cooked well but did not ruin bowls of cereal as she prepared them. Currently, the only thing I am able to cook is marshmallows over a campfire and M&Ms in bowls because they do not require milk to be poured over them. In other words, if you have to add or mix an ingredient in any food, it is already too complicated for me.

My kids miss the mom who remembered their birthdays. They want someone who not only remembers a date but most importantly, buys a gift. Or two.

They want a mom who remembers whether or not they have had wisdom teeth extracted.

But apparently, that mom is no more. For I did indeed forget to buy the birthday gift two weeks in a row, and I had to confess to my son I could not remember if he had oral surgery, for Pete's sake.

Don't even get me started about senior pictures. I forgot I had a third child until about 20 minutes ago.

Recently, I sat sorting a box of beads I'm using for my new hobby: jewelry making.

Stringing beads. That screams "nursing home."

Anyway, as all four or three of my kids sat around me, I reminsced about when they were little.

"Just about every day, I read you this sweet little storybook called, 'We Help Mommy Every Day.' Do you remember that book? It began, 'We help Mommy every day. We help her in the morning, as soon as we get up.'"

It goes on to chronicle a day full of chores made lighter by little helping hands--sort of glorified child labor, and I was indoctrinating you, hoping against hope that you would think it was the epitome of both fun and goodness to dust a table and sweep a floor. Do you remember Bobby and Martha?"

My beads plunked into their compartments without a response from my kids. Unless you count expressions like this as a response:

So later, I was in the kitchen pretending to fix their lunch, and they were hanging out with me. Not helping, mind you, but hanging out, which is almost as good.

My son, Jordan, said to me, "Don't worry, Mom. When you are in the nursing home, we will come visit you every day. I will even read to you. Do you know what I will read?"

And then he launched into a familiar sing-song reading voice mimicking mine from so long ago:

"We give our kids our money every day. We give them our money as soon as we get up ...."

Oh, the orneriness. But what he doesn't know is that as clever as that brainwashing plan is, it won't work. Because I will not remember that I have kids by then - so who would I give my money to???"

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE???

Join Up at the Random Dozen Waterin' Hole

2010-09-15T00:00:00.001-04:00

1. Do you do garage sales? If so, tell me about one great find. If not, tell me why not.
2. Name the last thing you fixed.
3. Name your A) Favorite item of makeup OR B) Favorite tool
4. Which room in your home needs organizing more than any other?
5. Which room could use re-decorating?
6. Share something unique about your town.
7. If you could send a one-sentence message to your great-grandchild, what would it be?
8. Do you Facebook?
9. Describe your favorite shoes.
10. Do you listen to more talk radio or more music radio? What kind of station is it?
11. How far would you travel for a really good (favorite) meal?
12. If you were totally honest with yourself (and us) what should you probably be doing right now instead of blogging?

The One Millionth Random Dozen?

2010-09-14T00:00:00.009-04:00

OK, maybe not 1,000,000, but sometimes it sure feels like it! You should see me all week long--searching everywhere, over and under any topic, looking for a suitable question. It's getting ridiculously funny. I know there have been some repeats, and I'm plainly stating there will be more because as curious as I am about everything in life, I'm running on empty, Jackson Browne.

Until then, here are this week's questions. Remember--you read and write today, post your answers on your on own blog on Wednesday, then link that post here at this blog, then go visit others. Have fun!

1. Do you do garage sales? If so, tell me about one great find. If not, tell me why not.
2. Name the last thing you fixed.
3. Name your A) Favorite item of makeup OR B) Favorite tool
4. Which room in your home needs organizing more than any other?
5. Which room could use re-decorating?
6. Share something unique about your town.
7. If you could send a one-sentence message to your great-grandchild, what would it be?
8. Do you Facebook?
9. Describe your favorite shoes.
10. Do you listen to more talk radio or more music radio? What kind of station is it?
11. How far would you travel for a really good (favorite) meal?
12. If you were totally honest with yourself (and us) what should you probably be doing right now instead of blogging?

9/11/1986

2010-09-11T07:41:00.004-04:00

24 years ago today, someone came into my world & changed it from black and white to color, touched every aspect of my life, gave me a whole different reason to live and made me want to be a good person. Happy birthday, Katie. I love you.

Friday Flashback: I'm So Glad We Had This Time Together

2010-09-10T00:00:00.012-04:00

Tell about TV when you were growing up. Did your family have a TV? Was it color or b&w? How many TVs did your family have? Did you have one in your room? Did your family leave the TV on most of the day or turn it on for specific programs? Was the TV on or off when you ate meals as a family? Were there rules about watching TV? What were your favorite shows? Are there any particular memories you have of TV in your younger years?

I assume my family was like most middle American families in the 1970s, my true growing up years (since I graduated in 1981).

We had one television set (remember when they were called that?) on one end of the the living room, a room in which we lived, not a fancy-schmancy room, encased in a genuine wood grain look console or cabinet. We always had a mirror over the top of the TV.

We really had no viewing rules, and yes, the thing was on night and day. You can imagine the influence all that unguarded viewing had on me. To this day, I still believe I can move my furniture around by twitching my nose.

My favorite childhood TV program would have to be the Carol Burnett show. Each Saturday night, I would get my bath and then sit in front of my mom who would roll my hair up in pincurls or up in these strange pink rubber curlers pictured here with Dippity Do, and I would watch Carol Burnett.

That show made pincurls painless. I can see now that my sense of humor was intact even back then, as I preferred those comedy sketches to anything else on TV, and I was very little. Somehow, I "got it." And I as I grew, I learned to recognize the old movies she would spoof in sketches, such as Joan Crawford in "Mildred Fierce" for "Mildred Pierce" or Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard.

Thanks, Linda, for stirring the memories. I hadn't thought about console TVs in a long time. You know, I think I prefer them to the stark black metal glass stands everyone uses now. Bring back the wood grain look!

Dippity-Do
Uploaded by Killer_Tomato. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

I Labored Over My RD12 Answers ....

2010-09-09T00:00:00.000-04:00

1. Describe the best sandwich in the world, according to you.

After reading someone's answer today (Who, Brain, who? Who said this? I don't know.) I drove myself right over to Panera and got the Mediterranean Veggie. Mmmmmm good. I also love the Veggie Delights at Subway. Not so into meat, as you can tell.

2. Which inspires you more: a good conversation, a song, a book or movie?

Song. It can be intentionally inspirational (like Jason Gray's "More Like Falling in Love") or it can be an oldie that evokes memories (70s songs) or it can be current and just change my whole outlook (John Mayer, Maroon 5). The happiest song ever written? "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves.

3. What is your favorite board game?

I think I would agree with many of you and answer "Scrabble." A pseudo board game I enjoy is Scattergories.

4. As you grow older, are you more or less patient with small children?

More. The other day a little one spilled a drink in a restaurant, and the mother, while calm and staid, got her crew together and exited quickly, with this little one crying and reaching up to her to be picked up. I don't blame her for wanting to get out of there, but my heart broke for Little Spiller. When I have a grandchild, this softness could be problematic with the parents, but I will try to keep my mouth shut.

5. Name one item you never let yourself run out of.

Paper towel and toilet paper, in that order, for some reason.

6. Do you agree with Tennyson's assertion, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?"

Honestly, the pain has been so bad that I would say I disagree. If I had never loved, I could still live in a Disney dream world and hope for the future. I would grieve not having a real relationship, I'm sure, but I would have been spared deep, deep heartache. That's just me, being honest.

7. Name one national treasure or monument that you have visited.

Grand Canyon. I was only about 7, but I'll never forget it.

8. Which is more painful, to be disappointed in someone else or to be disappointed in yourself?

I'm more shocked when someone else disappoints me. I tend to put people on pedestals. But I get more angry with myself for messing up.

9. What makes your kitchen uniquely yours?

A black and white accent wall that has a large damask pattern. Also, lots of paper goods. Because I would rather not do dishes or cook. All of those paper goods sing, "Lid's Kitchen, Come and Get It (Yourself!)"

10. Are you a crafty person?

Not really, BUT--I have picked up a new hobby, which I shall reveal soon. It is along the craft vein.

11. What is your favorite traditional picnic or bbq (cookout) food?

This appears to be a simple question at first glance, but wow--the choices are all clamoring for their day in the sun, as it were. OK--this will shock you, since I don't like meat that much, but I do love a grilled hot dog. If I went vegetarian, which I plan to, I would have the most trouble giving up bacon and grilled hot dogs. "Yuck" in theory and at the molecular level, "YUM" at the tastebud level.

12. Name one leisurely activity you enjoyed over Labor Day Weekend.

I watched two TCM movies back to back and worked on my new hobby!

Labor Day Link Up

2010-09-08T00:00:00.002-04:00

Hope yesterday's questions weren't too laborious for you, heh heh. Not to belabor the point, but today's the day you publish your post, link up here, then go visit others. May your blog hopping/nice commenting be a labor of love!

RD 12 for Labor Day Week 2010

2010-09-07T00:00:00.001-04:00

Here are your prompts for this week. Please publish your RD post tomorrow and link up here. Then visit other participants and leave a kind word or two!

1. Describe the best sandwich in the world, according to you.
2. Which inspires you more: a good conversation, a song, a book or movie?
3. What is your favorite board game?
4. As you grow older, are you more or less patient with small children?
5. Name one item you never let yourself run out of.
6. Do you agree with Tennyson's assertion, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?"
7. Name one national treasure or monument that you have visited.
8. Which is more painful, to be disappointed in someone else or to be disappointed in yourself?
9. What makes your kitchen uniquely yours?
10. Are you a crafty person?
11. What is your favorite traditional picnic or bbq (cookout) food?
12. Name one leisurely activity you enjoyed over Labor Day Weekend.