Away But Not Forgotten!

Maryland may as well be Siberia--no wait, that's where WE live. Counting the days!

Some People Are Smartie Pants!

I guess this inspired me because of all the recent leftover ordeals associated with Thanksgiving and other holidays that generate copious amounts of food. You cut off the top part of the bottle, thread the plastic bag up through the bottle opening, and then screw the cap on. Clever, huh?

No School!

Contest Eulogy

Well, that wasn't any fun. Two entries. Fizzle...sputter...splat. Thanks to Annie and Dave for entering, anyway. Dave won with his "multiple-cover-all bases-shoot multiple rounds-approach. Those pictures are truly from Thomas' blessing. Yes, he wore that. We held that event at our house in Pleasant Grove, Utah, for some reason. It was January or February and cold. As for the get-up. When we lived in Bloomington, IN (half of the married couple attended Indiana University, and it wasn't the female half), I sewed long dresses for the Saudi women who predominated in our 9 story high-rise married student housing complex. This was during the Iran hostage incident--very exciting time to be where we were. This fabric was a remnant left over. So, if you think these jammies are exotic, you should have seen the dress!! Non-traditional baby blessing in a non-traditional blessing outfit...and we wonder why Thomas is the way he is...

On Cardboard

I was touched by this on a very visceral level. I'm thinking about what my cardboard would say. How about your's? (from the same folks who brought us "Jonah" yesterday)

Jonah

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

"Gimme an L-I-B-R-A-R-Y!!"

This is a posting from my school blog (currently in a coma) done two years ago. The good news is that I brought about 9 classes of kids out to see a home llibrary over the last several years, and we had a great time. The bad news is that all fieldtrips have been canceled for the entire year due to complete lack of funding. And if that doesn't bring a tear...

Except for Mugsy (the resident Shih Tzu) biting Murphy's head (well, what would you do if 25 kids barged in and woke you from a sound sleep and then mauled you?????) our fieldtrip to see a walking talking living home library went well. We tried on all the finger puppets, checked out a few dvd's, ate sack lunches, slurped down root beer floats, and had a close encounter with a couple of bad boy bats over in the knitting loft!!!!!! Whew...hope everybody signed the guest book!!

Contest Time!

Okay. Now if you know the answer to this, you're disqualified. You have to guess! What occasion were we commemorating when these photos were taken? The baby is my youngest son, and that darling two year old (the spittin' image of HIS two year old) is his brother. The cute little blonde girl is a cousin, Jennifer. Prize? Hmmmm...I'll surprize you. Deadline? Saturday night. Enter as many times as you'd like.

HALLYLOOYER!!!!

I was going to post this on Facebook, but when I got home wouldn't you know that my ISU professor just befriended me! So I'm forced to cower here on my private blog when I'd rather be whooping this from the housetops (or at least the tops of Facebook): I'VE JUMPED THROUGH THE LAST HOOP AND BEGGED FOR THE LAST BONE FROM ISU IN THIS LIFETIME!!!!!! TODAY AT 12:30 I WAS GRANTED A PRINCIPAL ADMINISTRATIVE CERTIFICATE AFTER FOUR LONG YEARS--TWO OF WHICH WERE GRUELING AND RIGOROUS BEYOND WHAT ANY HUMAN SHOULD ENDURE. There I shouted. Now I'm going to slowly gather my life back, perhaps become a decent teacher again, maybe go to movies, or make meatloaf. I'm very lighthearted and sang stupid camp songs to Paco all the way home. Picture me with a singing heart...

Jeopardy-- 3:42 A.M. "Insomnia for $400 please, Alex"

One hour video of post traumatic stress syndrome in the lives of former Marines in Iraq, immigration law for dummies written on good friend's blog, and missing and exploited kids.

What is early morning web/blog surfing madness at 1985 Bench Rd.?

A Co-ink-ee-dink!

I posted about my complete enamorment with this book last summer. My niece Annie took my admonition to RUN out and find it. Because she lives in Soldotna, Alaska, her "running" took her to Homer! Here's where the story takes a weird twist, so if you need to break, you might want to now! The bookstore owner KNOWS the author of Talent Code BECAUSE THE AUTHOR LIVES IN HOMER!!! Get out of town...

What's Wrong With This Picture?

I'm fine with most everything in this picture. The motor scooter is obviously being maximized. The family is all together--that's got to be good for a kid's outlook on himself. The baby in the back is securely bound to his mom--he's not going anywhere unless she goes there! All in all it looks like a heck of a lot of fun. It reminds me of similar instances of entire dwellings stacked up and being moved on a bicycle which I saw in Beijing a few times. So...what's wrong with this picture? Hint--the little guy in the bucket. No, he looks pretty comfortable and content, I know. BUT, if the men on this bike are in coats, WHY OH WHY is that baby bare necked??????

Up To Our Knees In 'Em

The editors of Old-House Interiors magazine:
If you think your house is plagued with flies this year, consider this: If a pair of houseflies began mating on the first day of summer and every member of every generation of offspring survived and reproduced at the maximum rate, the resulting fly population would cover the Earth three feet deep by the first day of fall!

We here at Provident Heritage Farm agree. Therefore we are focusing our attentions on male fly castration. We are catching male flies by the thousands, and in a very carefully controlled lab removing their tiny male parts one by one. It's a slow process. We initially looked into fly traps and sprays, but we decided on castration because we think it will send a message to the fly population that WE MEAN BUSINESS! Our hope is that 1) the males will eventually choose celibacy 2) at some point natural selection will take over and only the weakest flies will be left to mate resulting in a diminished population 3) the resulting neutered flies will spread the word once they leave our lab. That's our campaign and we're sticking to it.

Grammar Again

I went for what will probably turn out to be my first and last electric car ride into town (this season) because the snow is predicted for tomorrow. I passed a sign that needs some punctuation: Slow Deaf Child
So is this a twice challenged child that I'm watching out for? If so, then bless his/her heart. But if he/she is only deaf, SHAME ON US FOR ACCUSING HIM/HER OF NOT BEING TOO QUICK ON THE UPTAKE! I think it should read: Slow, Deaf Child
Or better still: Slow. Deaf Child
Or how about Slow? Deaf Child! which could insinuate that You're slow on the uptake, and why are you going so fast?
Better still that sign should read: This neighborhood is graced by a delightful child who although he/she is deaf, is nonetheless an important part of our neighborhood. Would you therefore slow down and watch out for the little guy/gal? Thanks, His/Her (insert name of child) Neighborhood

I like that one the best.

Grammar Check

I'm starting to see a grammar indiscretion more and more. People put two independent clauses together with just a comma. For instance: The sun rose in the east, I got out of bed.
If you encounter that along your way, would you please correct it? Feel free to ridicule or threaten. What I find works best for me in seventh grade are oversized red slashes and a small demeaning statement like "You're going to want to reproduce someday. With grammar like this, I will personally intervene." Incidentally, when you have two independent clauses you can do one of three things: 1)add a comma and a conjunction 2)put a period and make two separate sentences 3)join the two clauses with a semi-colon. You're welcome.

Flopper Stoppers--Not For the Weak of Heart

I was given permission a few days ago to blog about whatever I darn well pleased. Today I intend to get my money's worth--throw all caution to the wind. I am prompted by an unfortunate experience I had with my undergarments yesterday. This is not to be confused with the time that my Victoria Secret water bra sprung a gusher or the time I heard an audible POP in the temple and was completely left unsupported for more time than I would ever recommend and forced to dive into a small room I had never heretofor even seen to salvage myself. Yesterday's debacle included a bra recently purchased that surfaced in my underwear drawer. It was sleek, but as I was to discover, its merits ceased right there. I spent the entire morning reaching, tugging, adjusting myself--pulling, yanking and cursing. But for a chaw and a mitt I cculd have doubled as a Yankee! At one point I retreated to the powder room (actually our faculty restroom at school is one part toilet/sink and 8 parts broom/mop closet) for triage. I stripped down to my waist and started completely from scratch trying to remedy my problem. This included pulling some things up and others down in a firm no nonsense fashion only to have it all creep up and fall down ten steps out the door and on my way. That's why instead of lunch I got a quick trip home to dramatically fling that NASTY of NASTIES off and into a corner!! Be gone! I have pretty much been undergarment challenged for a lifetime. That's between Mother Nature and me, but I bring it up because I don't think I'm alone. The quest for the Golden Brassiere is a lament I hear frequently. A few Christmas vacations ago, I happened to serendipitously end up for a delightful day and night with my hysterical California divorce lawyer cousin in New York. I was in NJ on a mission of mercy, and she was in NY for the holiday--well, just because she could be. We met up and romped. Great fun. But I was most interested in her narrative of an appointment at a highly recommended Park Avenue bra boutique where she received a CONSULTAITON, FITTING, AND REFRESHMENTS AT A SMALL TABLE as well as took home a small gold mine in a fancy bag. I sooooooo want to do this. I'm completely assured that with the right expertise what I have could be molded, redirected, and pounded into some sort of adequate bra. Given the right encouragement I have faith that much of the skin on my back could be trained to shift over to duty in front! Actually there was an eligible single branch president in North Carolina on my mission who was a "bra consultant" (I'm not making this up), but I certainly didn't have near the hutzpah to visit him during business hours!! Such a shame too because I'll bet we could have gotten a missionary discount. So I found this smashing corset in Google images. It looks like it has potential--pushes up, squeezes in. The controls are in the front. Good. Good. I wonder if it has an engine...I need a little hydraulic help.

Don't Even Get Me Started...

on the downside of long-distance grandmothering...