Being Beth

Wordless Wednesday: Well, Nearly Wordless

2012-01-04T07:30:00.001-06:00

Christmas is long gone, but not the photo's. We open presents at the crack of dawn at our house, so nobody looks particularly lovely, but the fun we're having is apparent on our faces. Here's a few of my favorite shots from Christmas 2011:

It's hard to get excited about shaving cream,

but it's easy to crack up at a smart remark from one of the kids.

Jordan liked his "Mom's Cookie of the Month" gift.

A batch of his favorite cookies the 25th of every month during 2012.

I think he's laughing because on the calendar,

I also happened to include Mother's Day, Father's Day,

and everyone's birthday -

Jordan tends to be forgetful of these important dates.

Santa brought me a Hard Rock Cafe Couture shirt.

Like I said, it was really early...

Grant, our Trekkie, got an Enterprise Pizza Cutter. Made his day.

I made 1940 style aprons for Meredith and myself. Why not?

And with the extra fabric, I whipped up a bag for her to carry her laptop in while walking to class.

It just wouldn't be Christmas without a Georgia O'Keefe calendar - I'm serious. I love her art.

High Fivin' over a Psyche DVD

Grant's stylin'

Jordan now has no excuse for taking all my flatware up to his room. He's got his own set.

While taking Christmas down and storing it away for another year, i found I needed a big box and headed to the shed in the backyard to find one. You just never know when you'll discover a treasure in the shed or on the side of an old box:

I think Meredith must have been around 12 years old when she wrote that. Truth be told, she still hates math and loves art.

Friday morning, 30 December 2011, we had a gorgeous sunrise. I grabbed my camera and perched in front of my office window and snapped a few photo's:

Trivia Tuesday: To Your Health

2012-01-03T09:00:00.001-06:00

Welcome to 2012, and welcome back, my friends, to this blog that I allowed to go fallow these past months.

After a bit of rest and time away, I'm ready to get going again with fresh thoughts to share. I'm starting off with a Trivia Tuesday that points to health, since I'm sure most of us have at least contemplated resolutions to make a few improvements in this area (and you might have already changed your mind and chowed down on a bag of chips).

I receive a daily e-newsletter from Health Sciences Institute in Baltimore, Maryland. It's full of information that debunks a lot of the misconceptions and misrepresentations surrounding health, wellness, and medicine.

Jenny Thompson writes the articles and I enjoy her humorous take on things. This past fall two short articles caught my attention and I thought I'd share them with you.

If you'd like to take a longer look at HSI, click here for a link to their website (you can sign up for the free e-newsletter from the home page if you'd like).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The USDA estimates that since 1970, average daily calorie intake in the U.S. has increased by nearly 25 percent.

But this calorie-climbing trend apparently goes back much further than 40 years.

Cornell University researchers examined 52 of the most well known paintings of The Last Supper. More than 1,000 years separated the earliest painting from the most recent.

As they report in the International Journal of Obesity, plate size and entrée size enlarged by about two-thirds over the millennium.

Bread size increased too -- by nearly 25 percent.

Looks like we've taken the multiplying of fish and loaves just a bit too far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How easy is it to conduct a study that pulls the wool over just about everyone's eyes?

A junior high school student won first prize at the Greater Idaho Falls Science Fair. For his project, he asked people to sign a petition demanding stern regulation and possibly even a ban of a chemical called dihydrogen monoxide.

The Eagle Rock Junior High student listed seven reasons why the chemical needed strict controls...

1) It can cause excessive sweating and vomiting
2) It is a major component in acid rain
3) It can cause severe burns in its gaseous state
4) Accidental inhalation can kill you
5) It contributes to erosion
6) It decreases effectiveness of automobile brakes
7) It has been found in tumors of terminal cancer patients

Out of 50 people, 43 signed the petition. Six were undecided. And only one man said no. Apparently that man had paid attention in chemistry class, and knew that dihydrogen monoxide is the chemical name for water.

It's THAT easy to pull the wool over someone's eyes.

See you tomorrow with Wordless Wednesday.

Winter Solstice Sky

2011-12-22T07:30:00.001-06:00

Funny Wednesday

2011-12-07T09:56:00.000-06:00

This is hilarious. Couldn't wait until Friday to share this video.

Nothing like a good laugh on hump day. I guess you'll have to click on the link - do it - it is SO worth it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVwlMVYqMu4

A Thanksgiving Prayer from a local hospital chaplain

2011-11-26T08:58:00.000-06:00

If this dawn's curtain draws back and everything we relish in and count on becomes abruptly absent,
would we still discover something, anything, for which to give thanks?

Would Your love for us be enough? Would Your grace be sufficient to inspire a whisper of gratitude?

If indeed our appreciation is not limited to what cash or credit card or Black Friday Bargains can buy, then we unite in a chorus of thanksgiving for the breath in our lungs and the beats in our hearts, for shelter and sustenance and laughter, for vocations which deeply matter to wounded neighbors and worried strangers, for the good and gracious people who work beside us night and day, for the warmth of those who fill our homes with life and for Your presence.

Amen.

Blessings,
Timothy Madison, PhD, BCC
Chaplain Manager
Texas Health Resources Harris Methodist Hospital Southwest

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-22T11:04:00.001-06:00

Tucked inside an early 1890's notebook composed by poet G. K. Chesterton was this poem. It's SO me...

"You say grace before meals.

All right.

But I say grace before the play and the opera,

And grace before the concert and pantomime,

And grace before I open a book,

And grace before sketching, painting,

Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing;

And grace before I dip the pen in ink."

So, what about you?

What are some things that cause you to spontaneously give thanks?

Treasure Tuesday

2011-11-08T11:31:00.000-06:00

Nancy, a faithful reader of my blog, often uses "Treasure Tuesday" on her blog (click here to go check out Nancy's Nook). Of course, she didn't do that today, but since I got a treasure in the mail yesterday, I decided to borrow her "Treasure Tuesday" label.

One of my ongoing projects is putting together into a shareable format all the bits of lore, photographs, letters, and documents that have been passed down from my ancestors.

Yesterday, one of my cousins sent me a copy of my great-great grandfather's journals that have been typed up and bound into a single book. Here are photos of my great-great granparents:

The actual journals, twelve in all, are scattered throughout the family. I have four of them.

They are extremely fragile with age. When I try to turn the pages, the paper crumbles into dust between my fingertips. I have wanted to read them, but just can't risk destroying them. Here are a couple photo's of the journals opened.

And here's a photo of the typed up version:

It is 355 pages long, and I can't wait to read it. As any good reader should do, I took a peek at both the first and last pages. Here's a photo of those pages. I think you may be able to read the words if you click on the photo's.

Sorry about the shadowed photographs. the lighting is horrid today with the cloud cover, and I don't have time to edit photo's today because I want to read every single word in this treasure. But, hey, it's just a blog post.

So, what about you?

Do you have any treasures?

What are your favorite things?

What projects are you working on this year?

Made Me Think Monday

2011-11-07T13:02:00.000-06:00

Do you know what this is?

☜

It's canvas with wire hoops inside that keep it round.

It looks like it might collapse, but it doesn't.

It's got straps, handles, Velcro loops, and grass stains.

Is it yours? Are you missing something from your garage? Has it been missing for six months?

It's back in my yard again this morning. It came blowing up my street from the south one day and the wind stopped blowing just in time for it to stop at my house.

I set it out at the curb, hoping whoever it belonged to would come pick it up. It sat there a week.

I put it out with the trash, but the garbage collectors didn't pick it up. I did this twice a week until another wind storm blew it further south into someone else's yard.

And now it's been blown from the north back into my yard.

I really don't want it.

It has, however, made me think about how difficult it is to throw away a trash can or something that looks like a trash can. It can be rusted, dented, torn, smelly, and sitting out at the curb and the collectors will not ever pick it up.

You can duct tape a note on it that says, "I'm throwing this away, please collect it with the trash." It remains at the curb.

You can stand out there and hand it to the fella, and he'll look inside it and set it back down rather than tossing it into the trash truck.

So, here's what I want to know from you, dear readers -

Do you have this problem too?

How do you dispose of unwanted trash cans?

Do you want this thing that blows up and down my street? If you live near me and want it, just drop on by and load it up. Please!!!

Any advice is most welcome.

Funny Friday: I want to be a noun

2011-11-04T07:00:00.071-05:00

Watch this video. It's quite amusing.

So, what about you?

Can you use your last name and combine it with something you've done or created to define a noun you might become?

Use it in a sentence.

By the way, it's hard to keep from making it a verb. Just saying...

Here's mine:

Lahaie: A cake which has been broiled for an hour, instead of baked, resulting in a blackened exterior and a raw interior. "Patty's contribution to the church bake sale looked more like a lahaie than a decadent dessert."

Wordless Wednesday: Messing Around with Photo Editing in Apple's Aperture

2011-11-02T07:00:00.003-05:00

A Seriously Hilarious New Book You Need To Read

2011-11-01T07:00:00.079-05:00

News Flash!!!!

My good friend, writing buddy, critique partner, and faithful blog reader Joanne Faries has just published her first book! Here's the summary of her wonderful memoir:

As an animal fearing woman, Joanne Faries laughs at her acclimation to an animal loving world. She stares down swans in Sweden and a guinea pig in the washroom, but averts her eyes for the wombat in Australia.

My Zoo World is a humorous memoir of animal encounters with a twist. Among published animal tales, very few are skewed with a touch of fear and laughter on every page. Unlike books written by pet-loving authors, these chapters introduce the reader to a manic menagerie of animals: a snapping Shetland pony, a bowling ball playing pit bull, and a terrified turtle that tolerates distress. Meet Benji, the cat, Muff, the dog, and more. Friends are convinced they can overcome Joanne’s concerns with their precious pets. Join them and root for the animals as you read My Zoo World.

I've got to tell you, the last chapter of this book is one of the most hilarious stories I've ever read. I laughed so hard my stomach ached and I had tears running down my face.

You can buy this book on Amazon. Just Click Here and it will take you there.

And, Click Here for a link to Joanne's new website. Also, be sure to check out her blog while you're doing all things Joanne Faries this morning. She's always got something interesting to say. Click Here for a quick trip to her blog.

This book would be a great stocking stuffer for people of all ages - young and old will enjoy her stories.

Memoir Monday: Coining Family Words

2011-10-31T07:00:00.004-05:00

As a writer, I spend a lot of time eaves dropping on conversations when I'm out and about. I like to sit at restaurants, malls, airports, and parks and just listen to people talk. It helps me develop the characters for my stories. Sometimes I hear a phrase that becomes a story.

One day, while sitting in a restaurant, three men sat at the table behind me. They were good ol' Texas boys, and their sentences were laced with typical Texas Rancher colloquialisms. Evidently the men were hungry and two of them grew impatient with the third as he mulled over the menu.

"You decided what you want?" one man said. "You've been staring at the menu like a cow stares at a new gate."

I quickly dug through my purse for pen and paper. That was a keeper phrase. Eventually, that sentence became a short story. (I've posted it before, but I'll post it again at the bottom of this post).

I also keep a list of "family words." These are the unique words that a family uses in their conversations at home. Most of the time they are not words you find in a dictionary - their use and definitions have evolved through the family conversational history; often they come from young children who assign a name to something they can't identify.

For example, one of my children (around the age of two) asked me repeatedly for Fawnies. I did not know what a fawnie was. That child asked me for fawnies for weeks and weeks, getting progressively frustrated with my ineptness at producing fawnies. One day, I brought home a box of Raisin Bran cereal and my child grabbed the box and said, "Fawnie Fran!"

Fawnies = Raisins. From that point on, if someone wants raisins, they ask for Fawnies. The word stuck.

Other words in our family:

Narnies = the various toppings on pizza or the various ingredients in salads other than greens
(things are always better with lots of narnies).

Pabba-Babba = Peanut Butter

Dabba-Pabba = Dr. Pepper

Bee-ya-baws = Jingle Bells

Fries (as in "I want to go to Fries") = McDonald's

Bet-a-betty = Spaghetti

Geberdeeze = Spaghetti (same stuff, different child)

Putz = picking up clutter in the house

PA = "Personal Appreciation" which is what the women of the house do when they put on make-up, fix their hair, dress, etc. "I've got to get my shower and do my PA."

These words and phrases become "family speak." They require no explanation (except on blogs or when they are used outside the family).

They add to the unique flavor of each family. Like the blood that courses through our veins, these words unite us, set us apart, and become part of our special love language.

So what about you?

Do you like to eaves drop on conversations?

What funny phrases have you heard strangers say that cracked you up?

What are your favorite family words and what do they mean?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, here's that short story I promised. I changed the sentence containing that phrase to red:

Accelerated Abjudication

By: Beth Lahaie

Fletcher McConahue plodded through life. Decisions came slow to Fletch and it was all right by him. Pondering over making even the simple choice between smearing grape jelly or strawberry preserves on his morning toast proved worthwhile. Not that he cared about the flavor or texture, taking his time provided him with a sense of identity and pride.

Early on, Fletch’s ma stood up for him, singing his praises to their back fence neighbor when she came over for tea. “Fletcher might be slow, but when he settles on a thing, you can count on it being the right thing.”

His pappy, on the other hand, grumbled about his slowness. “Fletcher, you’re looking over them two pair of socks like a cow stares at a new gate. Hurry up and decide what you want.”

While he hung his pride on his ma’s words, his Pappy’s take on him stung like the dickens and the two never balanced themselves out in Fletch’s mind. From the moment his pappy compared him to a stupid old cow, the condemnation bounced around Fletcher’s mind and defined him for all time.

Fletch McConahue: bovine brained.

Sure, his pap called him worse things down through his growing up years, but this was the one that stuck with Fletch and it rankled. Truth be known, Fletch did make one quick decision in his life and his Pappy didn’t care for that one either.

Littered with rocks after the river flooded, the north field needed harrowing. When his pappy sent sixteen year old Fletch to do it, old Pappy stood along the fence the entire morning to make sure his son did the job right.

As Fletch swung the tractor around for the fifth row, he hit a sizeable stone that bent a disk on the cultivator. Swinging down, he grabbed a rock, and began beating the disk in an effort to straighten it.

Pappy stormed into the field, red-faced and arms pumping. Pushing Fletch aside, he lay down on the ground to assess the damage. With one hand on top and the other under the tilted saucer shaped blade, Pappy pushed against the cultivator. The heavy piece of equipment shifted in the soft earth and the blade sliced into his arm, crunched through the bone, and stopped just short of severing Pappy’s arm.

Fletch saw his father, heard his agonizing scream, then looked at his watch, noted that it was straight up noon. In record time, just under thirty seconds to be exact, Fletch made a decision, "I think I'll have bologna on rye."

A Sweet Love Story

2011-10-19T16:07:00.001-05:00

After 72 years of marriage, a couple dies together, holding hands, her heart beating through him.

Click Here to go to the video.

Wordless Wednesday: In-Spite-Of Drought Part Three

2011-10-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

Made Me Think Monday

2011-10-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

Last Wednesday I read a blog post that made me think. It was written by my writerly friend, Stephen Parish (author of the amazing historical mystery THE TAVERNIER STONES - you can find it on Amazon or Barnes and Noble for Kindle, Nook, or paperback and believe me it's worth buying and reading).

Anyway, as usual, his post was poignant, thoughtful, and dare I say inspired?! The first section of his post reminded me of when my oldest son was in first grade.

My boy liked to take his lunch to school, preferring a PB&J to the cafeteria food. About three weeks into the school year he started coming home from school ravenous.

I thought at first it was a growth spurt, but when he started asking for a full meal, I questioned him as to why he was so hungry. I asked if he was eating the lunch I packed. He replied, "Oh no. I give it to Laura Teasley (fake name there)." I questioned him about why he gave his lunch away and he said, "Well, she's poor and her mommy doesn't have enough money for her to have any breakfast or lunch, so I give her mine so she doesn't have to be hungry all day." I then asked if he didn't get hungry too, and his reply took my breath away. He said, "Yeah, I get real hungry, but that's why we share. Laura shares her hungry with me and I share my full tummy with her. See, we each have to be hungry for a while and then we get to be not hungry for a while. Laura is hungry in the morning and I am hungry in the afternoon and we both get to eat when we get home."

I was tempted to pack an extra lunch each morning for little Laura Teasley, but I didn't. I wanted my son to keep on believing that personal sacrifice and sometimes pain and suffering is part of compassion and generosity. I wanted him to continue to learn that sharing involves more than giving of your excess, it's also understanding the need up close and personal. So, my son happily shared both hunger and a full tummy for the rest of the year and to this day I can proudly say that he continues to be one of the most generous and kind men I've ever known.

The second part of Stephen's post is equally touching with some real take away value. Click HERE to hop on over there - you'll be glad you did. But first...

What about you?

What life lesson have you learned from a child?

What comforts do you sacrifice to help other people?

How far are you willing to go to share another persons suffering?

Thoughtful Thursday

2011-09-29T07:00:00.000-05:00

Every once in a while I get one of those emails that you are supposed to pass on to all your friends. Most of the time I don't do that. This week, I got one that made me think. I thought I'd post it here on the blog. I can't trace the author of the email to give credit to the author:

This probably sounds crazy, but just yesterday I was in Wal Mart
Looking for a wastebasket. I found some made in
China for $6.99. I didn't want to pay that much so I asked the
lady if they had any others. She took me to another department and they had
some at 2.50 made in USA . They are just as good. Same as a kitchen rug I
needed. I had to look, but I found some made in the USA and they were 3.00
cheaper. We are being brain washed that everything that comes from China
And Mexico is cheaper. Not so. That is also why I don't buy cards at
Hallmark anymore. They are made in China and are expensive. I buy them at
Dollar Tree....50 cents each and made in USA .

        One Light Bulb at a Time

A physics teacher in high school, once told the students that
while one grasshopper on the railroad tracks wouldn't slow a train very
much, a billion of them would. With that thought in mind, read the
following, obviously written by a good American . . ..

        Good idea . . .. one light bulb at a time . . ..

Check this out. I can verify this because I was in Lowe's the
other day for some reason and just for the heck of it I was looking at the
hose attachments... They were all made in China . The next day I was in Ace
Hardware and just for the heck of it I checked the hose attachments there.
They were made in USA . Start looking . . ..

In our current economic situation, every little thing we buy or do
affects someone else - even their job. So, after reading this email, I think
this lady is on the right track.. Let's get behind her!

My grandson likes Hershey's candy. I noticed, though, that it is
marked made in Mexico now. I do not buy it any more.

My favorite toothpaste Colgate is made in Mexico ... now I have
switched to Crest. You have to read the labels on everything....

This past weekend I was at Kroger . .. . I needed 60W light bulbs
and Bounce dryer sheets. I was in the light bulb aisle, and right next to
the GE brand I normally buy was an off-brand labeled, "Everyday Value." I
picked up both types of bulbs and compared the stats � they were the same
except for the price . . ..The GE bulbs were more money than the Everyday
Value brand but the thing that surprised me the most was the fact that GE
was made in MEXICO and the Everyday Value brand was made in - get ready for
this - the USA in a company in Cleveland , Ohio .

So throw out the myth that you cannot find products you use every
day that are made right here...

So on to another aisle - Bounce Dryer Sheets... yep, you guessed
it, Bounce cost more money and is made in Canada ... The Everyday Value
brand was less money and MADE IN THE USA! I did laundry yesterday and the
dryer sheets performed just like the Bounce Free I have been using for years
and at almost half the price!

My challenge to you is to start reading the labels when you shop
for everyday things and see what you can find that is made in the USA - the
job you save may be your own or your neighbors!

If you accept the challenge, pass this on to others in your
address book so we can all start buying American, one light bulb at a time!
Stop buying from overseas companies!

        (We should have awakened a decade ago....)

Let's get with the program and help our fellow Americans keep
their jobs and create more jobs here in the USA .

So what do you think about this issue?

Do you think there is merit in restricting your purchases to "Made in USA" products?

Are you willing to take more time to read the labels to find out where items are made?

Wordless Wednesday: In-Spite-Of Drought Part Two

2011-09-28T07:00:00.000-05:00

Trivia Tuesday

2011-09-27T07:32:00.001-05:00

Celebrate, Celebrate, Dance to the Music!!! Here are some things to dance about:

Tuesday, September 27

Ancestor Appreciation Day
Perigean Spring Tides
Saint Vincent de Paul Feast Day
World Tourism Day
True Cross Day in Ethiopia
Happy Birthday to statesman Samuel Adam

Wednesday, September 28

National Women's Health and Fitness Day
Rosh Hashanah begins at sundown
Happy Birthday to musician Ben E. King, TV variety show host Ed Sullivan, and Taiwan's Confucius

Thursday, September 29

Michaelmas in the Greek/Roman Catholic Church
Rosh Hashana - Jewish New year
National Attend Your Grandchild's Birth Day

Friday, September 30

Feast of Saint Jerome
Independence Day in Botswana
Anniversary of the Gutenberg Bible
Happy Birthday to novelist Truman Capote

Saturday, October 1

Fall Astronomy Day
UN International Day of Older Persons
World Card Making Day
World Vegetarian Day
National Day in China
Independence Day in Cyprus and Nigeria
Armed Forces Day in South Korea
Anniversary of the Model T Ford, Disney World, the CD Player, and the first suburb - Levittown
Happy Birthday to 39th President Jimmy Carter, Firepup, actor Walter Matthau, and pianist Vladimir Horowitz

Sunday, October 2

Country Inn and Bed and Breakfast Day
Feast of Gedalya
Guardian Angels Day
Intergeneration Day
National Custodial Workers' Day
Phileas Foggs Wager Day
UN International Day of Non-Violence
World Communion Sunday
World Farm Animals Day
Independence Day in Guinea
Anniversary of the Peanuts comic strip
Happy Birthday to spiritual lead, Mohandas Gandhi and comedian Groucho Marx

Monday, October 3

Child Health Day
UN World Habitat Day
National Foundation Day (Korea)
German Reunification Anniversary

Monday, Monday

2011-09-26T07:00:00.000-05:00

Wow. That was fast. Two weeks ago we began our staycation and now today we are back to our daily routine. The difference between today and Monday, September 12? We're rested and looking forward to the week ahead. Before it felt like a grind. It's amazing what some time off and a change of routine will do for a persons outlook.

So what's on my agenda for this autumn? Projects. Six projects to be exact. First and foremost is deep cleaning this house. I'm talking cleaning out those places that seldom get my full attention like closets, drawers, cupboards, shower tiles and grout, the oven, windows.

Another project is to organize, scan, and edit/process/restore all the family photographs and slides I've inherited. I have boxes and boxes and boxes of them.

Then a third project is taking all those photographs and put them together with all the family stories I've collected along with the family tree and form them into some sort of printable book or CD to share with all the cousins.

And then there are the scrapbooks I want to put together for my children. I've saved all kinds of stuff over the years and all that is in boxes. It's time to get rid of the boxes and get the stuff into keepsake albums for them.

Another project is sewing - can't tell what I'm sewing because they will be Christmas presents.

Fifth is to get all my recipes, my mothers recipes, my grandmothers recipes, my great-grandmothers recipes, my husbands grandmothers recipes all typed into the computer software program. That's going to be quite a project, but one I'll enjoy.

And last but not anywhere near the bottom of my priority list is to finish the two novels I've got going.

So those are my projects in addition to trying to keep up with my blogging and running my household.

The one thing I know for sure - if I accomplish half of what I'm planning to do, I'll not have much time to get into trouble.

So, you tell me:

What are your fall projects?

Do you tackle one project and keep at it until it's complete?

Or, do you work on all of them everyday?

Funny Friday

2011-09-23T06:05:00.000-05:00

Here's an optical illusion that will blow your mind and the BBC commentators will crack you up! Thanks to my friend, Stephen Parish for finding and sharing this.

Have a Fantastic Friday and a great weekend.

Einstein Optical Illusion - Watch more Funny Videos

Wordless Wednesday: In-Spite-Of Drought

2011-09-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

Trivia Tuesday

2011-09-20T07:27:00.001-05:00

Reasons to Par-Tay this coming week - as if anyone needs an excuse...

Tuesday, September 20

UN Opening of General Assembly
Happy Anniversary to Rock of Chickamauga

Wednesday, September 21

UN International Day of Peace
Independence Day: Armenia, Belize, Malta

Thursday, September 22

American Business Women's Day
Dear Diary Day
Elephant Appreciation Day
Hobbit Day
International Day of Radiant Peace
Long Count Day
National Centenarian's Day
Autumnal Equinox Day in Japan
Independence Day in Mali
Happy Anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation and the birth of the Ice Cream Cone

Friday, September 23

Autumnal Equinox (for everybody except Japan - see Thursday's list)
First day of Autumn in the Northern Hemisphere and first day of Spring in the Southern Hemisphere
Celebrate Bisexuality Day
Checkers Day
Hug a Vegetarian Day
Love Note DayKingdom Unification Day in Saudi Arabia
Happy Birthday to actor Jason Alexander and singer Julio Iglesias

Saturday, September 24

AKC Responsible Dog Ownership Day
Family Health and Fitness Day
Fish Amnesty Day
Innergize Day
National Hunting and Fishing Day
National Public Lands Day
National Punctuation Day
R.E.A.D. in America Day
Schwenkfelder Thanksgiving in Pennsylvania
Constitutional Declaration Day in Cambodia
Heritage Day in South Africa
Independence Day in Guinea-Bissau
Happy Birthday to writer F. Scott Fitzgerald, puppeteer Jim Henson, and the Chinese philosopher Confucius

Sunday, September 25

Gold Star Mother's Day
National One Hit Wonder Day
Anniversary of the First Woman Supreme Court Justice
Republic Day in Rwanda

Monday, September 26

Family Day - A Day To Eat Dinner With Your Children
UN World Maritime Day
Happy Birthday to poet T.S. Eliot, composer George Gershwin, and a whale of a happy birthday to Shamu!

Made Me Think Monday

2011-09-19T11:47:00.001-05:00

U2 has a song, "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight," with the following thought in the lyrics:

"Every generation gets a chance to change the world
Pity the nation that won't listen to your boys and girls
'cause the sweetest melody is the one we haven't heard"

Here's the song if you care to listen to the whole thing:

It made me think the first time I heard the song, and it continues to make me think. What brilliant lyrics.

Then this week I got a newsletter from my local school district. In it was an article noting the upcoming PTA Reflections program for the students. The piece was titled, "Listen to Our Boys and Girls."

The first two sentences floored me, absolutely floored me: Will one of our own BISD students grow up and change the world? With so many different people in our district it's easy to imagine that one might have what it takes.

That my friends, made me think. That is what is wrong with our educational system. They're looking for a celebrity, a star, for one student who will stand out above the rest. They're looking for one student to change the world, to save the world.

That's just not how it works. Like it or not, every single person changes the world. If they are under educated, that changes the world. If they become a garbage collector, that changes the world. If they become a parent and raise a child, that changes the world. If they become an engineer, teacher, secretary, attorney, counselor, nurse, landscaper, musician, sales person, flight attendant, pastor, seamstress, mechanic - yep, they change the world.

In my opinion, if a person is alive they have what it takes to put a dent in the universe.

What do you think?

Funny Friday

2011-09-16T11:55:00.001-05:00

The phone rang a couple minutes ago. When I checked Caller ID, I found this:

Cracked me up!!!

Have a fantastic TGIF day today and a wonderful weekend!

Beth

Thoughtful Thursday

2011-09-15T08:13:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, one of my life long friends passed away. Not only was she a friend, she was also a mentor to me, one of a handful of women who guided me through adolescence into womanhood.

Sue was not only a Christian woman, she was the real deal kind of Christian. Her joyful faith was apparent at every turn, and always practical, earthy, and simple.

Most of you have probably seen those wrist bands imprinted with "WWJD" (What Would Jesus Do). While I never wanted to wear one of those, it was a good reminder to stop and think, look for the high road, before making a decision or taking action on something. Sue had a similar life slogan, "TWJIF" - "That's What Jesus Is For."

TWJIF was how Sue responded to everything life threw at her. Any problem, disappointment, devastating blow, happiness, joy, or serendipitous surprise that came up, "That's what Jesus is for" was her response, and it always catapulted her into some kind of prayer. Not that she fell to her knees and beat her chest, she simply shot up a prayer - of thanksgiving, cry for help, wisdom, peace, whatever.

It was no surprise then, to read after her death in her online guestbook how many people she'd encouraged with those words. As I read all the entries, I found myself thinking about another woman who responded to life exactly the same way - Mary, the mother of Jesus.

One of the most well known Bible stories about Jesus is commonly called "The Wedding at Cana" or sometimes, "Jesus Turned Water Into Wine." It's most widely known as Jesus' first miracle, the first act that set him apart as more than a mere human, but the Son of God. Here's the gist of the story:

Jesus and his family (mother and siblings) were attending a wedding and they ran out of wine. Mary went to her son, Jesus, and told him about the shortage. Jesus response was "That's not any of our business, Mom, and besides, it's not time for me to begin doing miracles." Mary turned to the servants and simply said, "Do whatever he tells you." Well, in-spite-of the fact that Jesus had just said it wasn't the right time for a miracle, he instructed the servants to fill six large jugs with water. They did it and when they returned with the water, Jesus had them pour the contents into pitchers and take it to the host. The host was not aware of what had happened, but he most certainly was surprised at the quality of the wine in those pitchers, and he congratulated the Bridegroom for saving the best wine until the end of the party.

While the miracle was and is a big deal, being Jesus' first and all, what has always stood out to me in this story isn't about the wine. The miracle to me was Mary - her faith, her immediate "TWJIF" response. See, she knew who he was and why he was here on earth. Got a problem? That's what Jesus is for.

Mary didn't beg. She didn't ask him twice. She let him know there was a problem and walked away, leaving the solution to that problem in his hands - Jesus could tend to both the problem and the timing of the solution. She did, though, take the time to tell the servants - "Just do whatever he says to do." And then she was done. She was out of the way. She didn't go back three or three thousand times.

That's how Sue managed her faith and life. That's how she taught me to respond. That's how she taught me to pray. There's much to be said for that kind of simplicity.

I like to try to stay connected to the current moment in my life, since that is after all, the only part of my life that I actually have. Sometimes praying too much or too long about something flings me either into the past to relive the moment the problem began or I'm living in the future with my second guessing what God's response will be and how it will turn out. "That's what Jesus is for" kind of living allows me to hand it off and go on enjoying being alive and fully present.

Mary went back to the wedding and the party - the "now" of her life. Sue tended to do the same with her "That's what Jesus is for" philosophy. It's what kept that million dollar smile on her face.

It keeps me smiling too.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-14T06:29:00.001-05:00

My forays outside to take photographs came to a screeching halt this summer as the hot temps threatened to melt both photographer and camera. These are some of the last I shot out my window back in August sometime as the sun rose.

Now that cooler weather is upon us, I'll get out and about once again with some new material for next week - that is if I can find anything besides brown dormant grass.

Happy "Hump Day" everyone!!!

Trivia Tuesday

2011-09-13T07:00:00.000-05:00

Just so you are in the loop today, here's a list of this weeks holidays around the world:

Tuesday, September 13:

National Celiac Awareness Day
Anniversary of the Star Spangled Banner
Happy Birthday to Scooby Doo

Wednesday, September 14:

Happy Birthday to Walter Koenig (TV Star on Star Trek)
Battle of San Jacinto Day (Nicaragua)

Thursday, September 15:

UN International Day of Democracy
Happy Anniversary to Greenpeace
Happy Birthday to Agatha Christie (author)
Happy Birthday to President William Taft (27th President)
Happy Birthday to Tommy Lee Jones (actor)
Battle of Britain Day (UK)
Independence Day (Costa Rica)
Independence Day (El Salvador)
Independence Day (Guatemala)
Independence Day (Honduras)
Independence Day (Nicaragua)

Friday, September 16:

Ann Bradstreet Day
Constitution Day/ Pledge Across America
Mayflower Day
National POW/MIA Recognition Day
UN International Day for the Preservation of the Ozone Layer
Happy Anniversary to General Motors
Happy Anniversary to Old Ironsides Saved by Poem
Independence Day (Mexico)
Independence Day (Papua New Guinea)

Saturday, September 17:

Citizenship Day
International Coastal Cleanup
International Eat an Apple Day
Day of the National Hero (Angola)

Sunday, September 18:

Hug a Greeting Card Writer Day
Happy Anniversary to the US Air force
Happy Birthday to Greta Garbo (actress)
Independence Day (Chile)

Monday, September 19:

International Talk Like a Pirate Day
International Women's E-Commerce Day
National Woman Road Warrior Day
Saint Gennaro Feast Day
Respect For the Aged Day (Japan)

Made Me Think Monday

2011-09-12T12:08:00.000-05:00

I'm changing up some things on the blog, one in particular is Memoir Mondays. I'll probably still do that occasionally, but I think I have somewhat exhausted all the stories that I care to publish on the world-wide-web.

So, for now, Monday posts will be called "Made Me Think Monday." So, without further fuss or needless explanation, here we gooooo........

One of my favorite radio shows on NPR is "All Things Considered." Last Wednesday, Sept. 7, 2011, the show featured a woman named Carie Lemack, the daughter of a woman who was aboard the first plane to hit the WTC on 9/11.

Everyone works through grief in their own way. Some, like Carie Lemack, follow their grief into their life purpose. Carie's grief catapulted her into the bowels of Congress where she fights terrorism by holding congressional leaders feet to the fire. Her activism has led to her filming a documentary which she has shown around the world. The film, "Killing in the Name," deals with the al-Qaida suicide bomber who murdered 27 family members of Jordanian Ashraf Al-Khaled during his wedding. Ms. Lemack recently showed this film in the United Kingdom to a group of radicalized Muslims. After the showing, when she mentioned that her mother was on one of the planes, one of the young men in attendance registered shock saying, "Wait a second! We were taught there were no people on the planes." Lemack related, "And his whole face changed. I didn't have to say anything else, but it's like...we planted a seed."

Now that made me think. Talk about a spin job! It led me to a second question. Were they also taught the buildings were empty as well?

The answer isn't so important really. I'm sure our leaders have spun quite a lot of atrocities as well. What is important is that Carie Lemack is out there somewhere in the world every single day waging war against terrorism. She's not sitting at home fearing life or terrorists.

Well, that's not quite true. Yesterday she was sitting at home, in her mother's favorite spot. there's a story about that spot in the garden behind their Boston home. Ten years ago today, September 12, she and her sister took a walk out to the garden. It was a windless day, and yet as they walked along, the ferns began to move in a certain spot that their mother particularly loved - the place where their mother used to go "to be part of the day." They've since built a bench there amongst the ferns and that is the place where they spent the 10th anniversary of their mother's death - just being a part of the day.

That too made me think. It's important to be part of the day. On purpose and with intention. Like Carie's mother, my place to join the day is outside amongst the green trees and grass, the splashes of color as Cardinals and Blue Jays flit by, where squirrels chatter at me from the branches, and where I can feel the sun soaking into my face.

Just a few moments outside brings me into the present, the now of my life, and from there, with just a quick thought of that morning stroll around my backyard, I can re-enter the day anytime I find I've slipped off into regretful yesterday or worrisome tomorrow.

So, What about You?

Are you intentional about making sure you become part of the day?

Is there a place where you go in your home or yard, a park, or maybe something you see on your morning commute that awakens you to your own life?

Do you have built in triggers or memories that you use to draw you back to the present moment?

If you would like to read the article and listen to the program about Carie Lemack and her work, you can find it by clicking HERE.

In remembrance of September 11, 2001

2011-09-11T07:00:00.000-05:00

September 11, 2001, a day I'll never forget. Different people responded in different ways according to their way of handling things. I wrote an essay and sent it to the Dallas Morning News who published it in their "viewpoint" page. That was the first piece I ever published.

Here is that article:

I'm Proud To Be An American
by: Beth Lahaie

One could speculate upon what actions, ideas, thoughts, andpositions, should be included in a list of the Great Sins of mankind. Certainly most people would includemurder, apartheid, genocide, ethnic cleansing, slavery, treason, terrorism,rape, child abuse and stealing. Others would add envy, gossip, backbiting, adultery, slander, rage,selfishness, hatred, greed, lying, and jealousy.

Most people probably would agree that these sins are among themost heinous of all. But I ventureto say, perhaps as both a thoughtful and emotional response to the events ofterrorism in New York and Washington D.C. this week, that the greatest sin, insome twisted minds, is to be an American.

I admit it. Ihave committed that sin throughout my life. And I did it again last week as I watched the horrificscenes of terror on television. Icould only guess why others around the world think that being an American is sosinful. But I have no doubt why Iam an American.

I choose to be an American because of blood. My blood. The blood of my ancestors was shed as they fought and diedin the Revolutionary War. Theirlives were given, the ultimate price was paid to preserve, for me and mychildren, the freedoms and rights guaranteed us by the Constitution. I value the sanctity of human life, iffor no other reason, but that lives have been sacrificed for me throughcountless wars and battles down through the ages. These men and women who are my ancestors thought being anAmerican was a good enough reason to fight and die. I agree.

I choose to be an American because I believe in freedom anddemocracy. I enjoy being a part ofa country in which I am allowed to enter the governmental process. I am allowed to think. I am allowed to form an opinion. I am allowed to speak and defend what Ibelieve to be right. I like beingable to choose the persons who lead me. I feel secure that when we disagree upon truth, justice, or right andwrong, we can depend upon the judicial system to interpret and uphold the lawswe have collectively agreed upon. American’s belief in freedom and democracy is unwavering and consistent.

I choose to be an American because of this country’scompassion. How wonderful it is tobe a part of a political system that opens its arms of generosity and concernto others who may need protection, assistance, asylum, or a fresh start. The hope America offers isunprecedented in our world. Notonly have we been blessed with wealth, creativity, fertile land, and naturalresources, we share them with the needy and hungry of the world.

I choose to be an American because in Nicaragua in 1978, atthe age of twenty-three, I, along with 100 other American citizens faced a bandof political revolutionaries and their machine guns ready to kill us simplybecause we were Americans. Theterrorists knew that killing Americans would have the greatest impact on theirgovernment. I was there, assistingtheir country, obeying their laws, teaching their children, and building theirchurch buildings. I faced death onseveral occasions during those two weeks, not because I chose to believe inGod, a common enough reason to be killed, but because I chose to be an Americancitizen. On my last night there,as our group was herded into a tight circle to prepare for execution, I faced acrossroads in my life. I wascertain I would die, but the question which rang through my head was, “I’mgoing to die, but for what?” Theanswer that came was twofold and amazingly simple. I was going to die because I was a Christian and because Iwas an American. I was pleasedthat I was equally dedicated to both ideals. I was even more pleased when the situation dramaticallychanged and we were released.

I choose to be an American because when we as a nation arefaced with our own mistakes and failure, we find a way to make restitution andreconcile ourselves to those whom we have hurt. Though I could point to several occasions when the UnitedStates has owned up to wrongful actions or attitudes, none is as poignant asthe day we owned up to failing our own citizens. The Gulf War had come to an end, and America was ready tocelebrate the victory for human rights and freedom. What better time to celebrate than the Fourth of July? Celebrations and victory parades wereplanned in every city. I attendedone such parade in Dallas, Texas. The bands played, the ticker tape fell continuously from the top ofbuildings, great throngs of people lined the streets for miles, PatriotMissiles rolled by demonstrating our victory in the Gulf War, and literallyhundreds of soldiers marched past. It was the soldiers that moved me to tears. I was so grateful for the men and women who served in theGulf War and ensured safety and freedom for my good friends who live inKuwait. The crowd applauded andcheered as row after row of men and women came into our view allowing us theopportunity to say “thank you, job well done.” Following the show of forces from the Gulf War came ahaphazard group of men who were struggling down the street. Some came in wheel chairs, otherswalked with canes or crutches, dressed much as they did in the 1970’s. They were veterans of the very unpopularVietnam War who were forgotten and never thanked for their sacrificial serviceto our country and the freedom we so value. We Americans had failed our own citizens. That day, though it came years late, weAmericans along that street joined together and in the best way we could, stoodand applauded our Vietnam hero’s. Everywhere I looked I saw gratitude and sincerity that I think touchedthe broken hearts of our forgotten and neglected veterans. Although I have always been patriotic,never have I experienced such a deep pride in my country as I did that Fourthof July. It felt good and cleansingto say not only that we were sorry, but to admit that we were wrong. I was proud to be a citizen of acountry that could own failure. Wecould be strong enough to say “I’m sorry.” That day I chose once again to be and stay an American.

September 11, 2001, I chose to be an American becauseAmerica has chosen to be about people, not about power. Yes, we are powerful, but we are alsostrong enough to be weak. I have acousin who said to me that the strongest people he’s ever seen are those who aregrieving and crying in a broken heap on the living room floor. That was the picture of Americayesterday, broken but strong.

We are strong. We are strong enough to live on the cutting edge of life’sexperience. We are brave enough toexplore our world and our universe. We are innovative enough to discover new ways to heal, communicate,research, think, govern, and care. We are creative enough to provide the world with art that allows us toview our various cultures with perspective and insight. We are humble enough to know that withall we know and all we have learned, we still do not know enough. We are strong enough to cry and grieveand find comfort as individuals and as a unified people. We are wise enough to realize that ifwe are any of these things, it is because of a higher power and for a higherpurpose than we ourselves.

Yes, I commit the sin of being an American, and I do it onpurpose. And, yes, there are thosewho would hate me because of it. But in choosing to be an American, I join the ranks of some mighty finepeople who have given me a rich heritage, a comfortable and free life today,and a future full of hope to leave for my children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another response I like, in part because I studied Music therapy for a couple years in college and believe in the power of music to heal and uplift, and partly because music therapists around the country joined forces to offer assistance to those who suffered the most on 9/11.

Out of that gift of service came the following video. I find it comforting and uplifting in the face of all the media showing and posting footage of the tragedy. I hope you too find it encouraging.

Congress: If I was your mother...

2011-07-30T15:20:00.001-05:00

I took off the comments, because I don't want to have a discussion today. I just want to say something.

Okay, House and Senate members, you've each bopped one another on the nose.

If I was your mother, I would line you all up against facing walls and make you smile at each other until you figure out a way to get along and negotiate a compromise. No you can't have a drink of water. You can't go to the bathroom. You can't eat anything. You can't sleep. No cell phones, iPods, laptops, Blackberries. Your Tea Party/lobbyist friends may not come over nor can they wait outside. Your agenda includes only two things - you smile and you negotiate with both sides making compromises.

How long would it take? About an hour. But I'd make it stick - until.

Just saying.

Busy Week

2011-07-26T12:47:00.000-05:00

It's one of those weeks that is keeping me out of my office.

Number two son had his wisdom teeth pulled yesterday, so I'm playing nurse to him this week.

My husband's double nickel birthday is today, so I'm also busy with preparations for our celebration tonight.

Add in a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon, and follow that up with helping my daughter move to a new place closer to campus on Thursday...well, I'm just not going to find a lot of time to plant myself in my chair and write.

Maybe Friday, but then, that's house cleaning and laundry day around here. More than likely I'll be back to normal next week.

So, in case I don't get back -

Happy Hump Day tomorrow!

Happy Thursday - take some time for a little breathing space.

Happy TGIF day!

Have a fantastic weekend!

Thanks for dropping by.

Until I slow down...

Beth

Freaking Awesome Friday!!! September Bird

2011-07-22T07:00:00.011-05:00

The photo's from yesterday - the first is paper clips, the second are dip pens and their nibs, the third is the piece of gum I'd been chewing - had to snap a photo of it before I wrapped it in paper and tossed it in the trash, and the last two are of my glass of water with different stuff behind it - the blue was my mousepad and the red was my chair and the yellow wall. So, there you have it!

My son and his friends made this short film. I can't put up the whole film, but I can share the trailer. I'll put up info on the date and place of the premier as soon as it's finalized. Right now, they are sending it out to film festivals and by golly I think this film has the potential to win some awards.

As mother of one of the filmmakers, I just got to see the full film - WOW! The story, the screenplay, the lighting, the set, the special effects - all go together seamlessly and create an extraordinary viewing experience. It's a haunting story that made me cry. It's powerful. It made me think. It touched my soul.

So, for your viewing pleasure on this TGIF I give you the teaser/trailer of SEPTEMBER BIRD:

FYI -

Click HERE for the link to JustGrank Films website and click HERE for the link to the September Bird page on Facebook.

Week of Photography: Fooling around with the camera some more

2011-07-21T07:00:00.004-05:00

The images from yesterdays post: The first three were different treatments of the same photograph of the groodah between the panes of glass in my supposedly sealed double paned windows. The last three are photo's of Puffs Tissues.

Now, who can guess todays? The first two are pretty obvious, but what about the last three?

Again, I'll post the answer tomorrow.

Week of Photography: Fooling around with the camera

2011-07-20T07:00:00.009-05:00

Any guesses as to what these things are?

I'll put the answer up on tomorrows post.

Week of Photography: House Plants

2011-07-19T07:00:00.004-05:00

Week of Photography: Monday: Sunrise

2011-07-18T07:07:00.003-05:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-13T06:37:00.000-05:00

Trivia Tuesday: 3D Printing

2011-07-12T06:29:00.001-05:00

Hold onto your socks, folks, your daydreams are coming true... There is now a company who has created a 3D printer, which will "replicate" objects.

Watch this video (it's short but fascinating) for an explanation and to see it work.

I'm flabbergasted, absolutely flabbergasted.

Trivia Tuesday: Summer Reads - Doc: A Novel

2011-07-05T06:33:00.005-05:00

If you like American history, the wild west in particular, then chances are you'll enjoy this book by Mary Doria Russell: DOC: A NOVEL. It's the rest of the story about Doc Holliday, the Earp brothers, The Masterson brothers, and a handful of others. It's almost a prequel of Tombstone.

Ms. Russell is an amazing historian and researcher. She digs deeper than most, and this book is all the richer for it. Nearly everybody's heard about the shootout at OK Corral, but not so much about the women Doc loved, how deeply he appreciated music, how well he played the piano, or how very generous he was. These are the things that Russell brings to the table plus she didn't just focus on Doc Holliday. She gives you the inside scoop on Wyatt Earp and his brothers too. You'll see a different side to these men, the softer, more human side. They step out of the shoot 'em up western and become real.

I had a few issues with the book. It wasn't the information - it's brimming with facts. I struggled with how slowly the book begins. It took me a hundred pages before I felt completely engaged. I didn't exactly want to stop reading, but the plot took a while to show itself and read more like a biography in many places rather than a novel.

That brings me to a second issue. Because it read so much like a biography, I struggled to determine what was fact and what was fiction. I found myself wondering if there was any fiction to it at all even though most of the information was completely new to me and my knowledge of Doc Holliday. Fortunately, at the end of the book, Ms. Russell provided an answer and revealed that she actually fictionalized only a small portion of the story and told exactly which sections of the book that was. I must say, that was a relief to me.

Another thing that bothered me was Ms. Russell's storytelling. Her writing was strong, her sentences clear. The book was free of errors, typos, and such. However, there is more to telling a story than getting the grammar down and stringing the words along. Russell had no qualms about killing the pace of the plot to take the reader down a very long side trail of backstory on another character. Even though I found the info in the side trail very interesting, it was somewhat jolting and it took me out of the story. This technique made the book seem to wander around a lot and made it hard for me to stay emotionally attached to the main plot - namely the story of Doc.

I've not read any of the other books Mary Doria Russell has written, so I don't know if this is simply her style or an aberration and am not sure I'm all that interested in finding out. The slow and choppy storytelling didn't stop me from finishing the book and I AM going to recommend it as a good read - if you like to read biographical books with a slow pace, and love the American west in the late 19th century.

Memoir Monday: Fourth of July Disasters

2011-07-04T07:50:00.002-05:00

First things first...All of the beautiful photographs of fireworks were taken by my friend Karen Gomez and her husband Doug. I'm not sure which are hers and which are Doug's - they are both amazing artists with a camera. Thanks Karen and Doug for generously sharing your artistry and skill with me and my readers.

July 4^th has brought it’s share of fun and excitement, but just as often there was typically some thing that happened to turn the festivity into crisis.

My earliest recollection that July 4^th meant disaster came when my younger brother was two. Grandma and Granddad provided us with sparklers for the backyard. I remember the adults lighting them for me. I would reach towards them time and again trying to get up the courage to actually hold them. Even though parents and grandparents alike assured me that the sparks would not hurt, they always seemed to sting a bit, even if it was completely worth the pain to be allowed to actually touch something that contained fire. After running madly around the backyard with crackling sparks flying around me, I set the burnt out wire carefully on the brick patio as instructed. No sooner had I set the sparkler down, my little brother toddled over to it and picked it up with his tender bare hand. Of course, a toddler would not be particularly attracted to the dark gray cool end of the wire, and so my brother grabbed the still glowing hot end. His hand was blistered, he was screaming bloody murder, my parents rushed him to the emergency room, and I stayed with Grandma, feeling somehow like I had done something very wrong. The fireworks party ended promptly and I was put to bed.

The next year, sparklers were banned from our little hands, but Grandma and Granddad wanted to be sure I had an Independence Day to remember. To celebrate, they took me to a high school football stadium in Albuquerque to see my first real live fireworks display. The night turned windy just as the display began. Much to everyone’s surprise, the wind sort of circled around, caught the live embers of the exploded fireworks only to drop them again right over the crowd. A young girl not too far from us was burned right on the top of her head, singed her hair, burnt her scalp, and sent an ambulance right into the stadium. Other people had parts of their clothing catch fire too. It was exciting, but Grandma declared the whole scene as “completely unsafe” and I was quickly snatched up and taken home.

When I was 10, I spent July 4^th at my other Grandparents home. I had made friends with the granddaughter of one of Grandma Helen’s friends, and we were very ready to spend the evening watching her Dad set off real fireworks in her back yard. Before the “real” fireworks began, Mary George was allowed to hold a Roman candle while it shot off its display of power and light. As Mary George held the lighted Roman candle, it exploded in her hand, burning her hand severely. She was rushed home, I was whisked back to my Grandma Helen’s house, and that disaster ended yet another celebration.

The next year, one of the boys in our neighborhood had a box of firecrackers. We weren’t allowed to use firecrackers, but my parents let us stand in our yard across the street and watch the neighborhood boys having their fun. After shooting off about 20 firecrackers, the boys decided they needed a bit more noise. They got an old one pound coffee can, lit about 5 firecrackers and put them into the can. We stood across the street waiting for the loud bang. Seconds passed. Nothing happened. We waited longer. Still nothing. Finally after what seemed an enormous amount of time, Greg went over to the can and picked it up. He hollered across at us that they had gone out. We hollered back for him to listen to the fuses sizzling. Just as he stuck the can up to his left ear, all five firecrackers went off. It blew the can to smithereens, blew his left ear off causing him to be totally deaf in his left ear and the hearing in his right ear was severely impaired. Talk about disasters! Nobody in the neighborhood wanted anything to do with firecrackers or coffee after that.

July 4^th celebrations simmered down then for about nine years…until 1976 – our country was 200 years old. Our city planned a huge extravaganza. For a solid week before the actual day, bands played, people sang, orchestra’s played, choirs sang, plays and re-enactments of Revolutionary War battles were shown, this being Texas, cattle drives came right through the town and even our neighborhood. We had chili cook offs, pancake breakfasts, BBQ was offered on every corner, and of course, there was lots and lots of beer. The grand finale was on July 4^th, with the “Biggest Fireworks Show Ever in the World.” I think the whole city came out that night. The Ft. Worth Symphony was playing patriotic music, they had canons charged and ready for the grand finale. Then, some atmospheric aberration must have happened. In the span of about fifteen minutes, while the symphony played (my dad was playing trumpet that night in the symphony) and folks had claimed their spot along the banks of the Trinity River, the sky filled with thick black clouds and it began raining – HARD!!!! We in Texas call this kind of rain a Gully Washer or a Frog Strangler– it was raining so hard you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Mixed with the rain was golf ball sized hailstones. As soon as it started raining, the orchestra scattered like a bunch of roaches when the lights come on. Ladies in long black dresses and men in their tuxedos were running and crawling under stages and band stands, trying to keep their instruments from getting wet or dented from the hail. Mom headed for the car and left me to find my dad. So, there I was, soaked to the skin, hollering under stages and bandstands for my Dad. After about 20 minutes, with the rain still coming down in sheets, I found

Dad perched under a set of portable steps. We found his trumpet case and headed for the car. Now you’d think the real disaster that evening was the fact that on the only night in all of history our nation has its 200 Birthday, Ft. Worth got rained out. No, that was not the worst of it. It also wasn’t because anyone got hurt badly either. The real problem came when my Dad and I reached the car, wet and cold and bedraggled. Of all things, my Dad had locked the keys in the car. Mom was furious. My brothers were whining and griping. I was just cold and tired. Dad …well, never mind about Dad. Finally in desperation, he just broke out the back window and stuffed my youngest brother through to unlock the car door. We brushed the broken glass from the seat, climbed in and nearly froze to death driving with that broken out window. The temperature had dropped from a toasty 90 degrees down to an even 70. But we made it home, got dried off and called it a night.

Those are the most memorable disasters.

So what about you?

Do you have any July 4 disasters in your past?

Do you "do it yourself" on July 4 or do you leave it to the pro's?

What's your favorite July 4 memory?

I hope you all have a wonderful day today and can enjoy some firework displays tonight.

Thoughtful Thursday: You Tell Me -What are your favorite things to smell?

2011-06-30T07:54:00.000-05:00

Time for another pause in the day to slip into the pleasant places of your memories and bring to the front of your consciousness the aromas that you love. Maybe it's the smell of Ponds Cold Cream on your Granddaddy's pillow. Or perhaps the salty air at the ocean. Or combinations of smells that send you back to your Great Aunts Kitchen like fresh brewed coffee and cantaloupe.

List your top five in the comments.

Here are mine:

The smell of sheets fresh off the clothesline
The milky breath of a sleeping infant
Onions, garlic, and curry sauteing on the stove
Tiffany roses (that's a Tiffany Rose in the photo above. Too bad you can't photograph the scent - it's truly divine.
The pungent, earthy, yet pure and crisp air deep in a high mountain forest

Oh, I could go on and on, but I'll leave some of my favorites, because I have a feeling we're all going to intersect on a few things.

Wordless Wednesday (Well nearly wordless).

2011-06-29T08:00:00.002-05:00

My Green Anole Friend

that lives in the Yaupon Holly tree

outside my office window.

You'll have to look closely to see him.

☟☟☟

One of several cotton tail rabbits

that live in our yard.

This one likes to lounge around

after feasting on our weeds.

☟☟☟

Dramatic morning clouds and

a new moon.

☟☟☟

Time Out Tuesday: Guest Blogger Joanne Faries reviews a great new book

2011-06-28T11:11:00.001-05:00

This morning I'm turning over my blog to one of my regular readers, fellow writer, poet and blogger, plus a good friend of mine, Joanne Faries. She's written a great review of a new book which is available now at Amazon and Kindle and will be out in paperback next month.

After reading Joanne's review and considering that this fall all three of my children will be in college, I purchased four copies (yeah, one for me too)!

Take it away Joanne!!!

Ticket Punched for Success

A Review by Joanne Faries

There are times when a person is overwhelmed, confused, and on the wrong track about to be hit by the oncoming train called life. Often that train is the college express, and you are sure you punched the wrong ticket. Well, fret no more. Pick up a copy or download an e-version of College Fast Track (Essential Habits for Less Stress and More Success in College) by Derrick Hibbard.

Mr. Hibbard’s easy to read guide is the first step in a successful college experience, and will set a path for one’s future, whether it involves further education or employment. I recommend this book to high school juniors and seniors. Frankly, anyone requiring guidance on time management, organization skills, and a reminder to set reasonable goals and enjoy life will benefit from this book. I’ve been in the workforce for eons, and it gave me a fresh outlook on my job.

From the foreword that explains why Derrick Hibbard chose to write this book (basically learn from his mistakes and benefit from his success), to the table of contents, to an epilogue wishing the reader future glory, this book has a common sense approach to college specifically, but it can apply to any learning environment.

The author is fresh from the college experience himself. He recognizes technological distractions and suggests using them as rewards. Study for forty-five minutes, and then treat yourself with fifteen minutes of email or social network time. Don’t procrastinate and try to cram. His methods of study allow you to build your knowledge base, take solid notes, and be prepared for tests. Not only that, but you will actually retain what you’ve learned.

Mr. Hibbard’s mantra is efficiency and effectiveness. College can overwhelm. Each professor expects a lot from students. Studying the syllabus is essential. Most professors give an outline, on the first day, of material they plan to cover. They are giving you the key to their mind. This is what is important to them, and what their tests will cover. If you take the syllabus to heart, are active in class, listen, and stay organized, you are on the right track.

I liked the suggestion to study the professor. Google the name, read the bio, and figure out what that professor really wants you to learn. There are numerous other ideas like this in this book, such as take a writing class and practice writing well. This seems obvious, and yet such basics are often overlooked, but can be crucial to college success.

College Fast Track (Essential Habits for Less Stress and More Success in College by Derrick Hibbard presents an organized package of habits, suggestions, and integral steps to conquering college work. His humor, tone, and deft writing demonstrate his credentials, and lend authority to his words. Learn from Derrick Hibbard and College Fast Track. Punch your ticket to successful studies.

CLICK HERE for the link to this book on Amazon.com

CLICK HERE for a link to Joanne's blog - always a great read.

Memoir Monday: The Swimming Hole - Part Two

2011-06-27T11:16:00.002-05:00

Sometimes one post doesn't cover a topic completely, like my Memoir Monday post last week about summer swimming.

This weekend I watched the new version of "True Grit" starring Jeff Bridges as Rooster Cogburn. Seeing Jeff Bridges brilliant portrayal reminded me of his father, Lloyd Bridges, who starred in the television show, "Sea Hunt." I loved that show.

The summer before I turned ten, I spent a month at my maternal grandmothers home. She worked part time as a librarian at a university, and on her days off, she played bridge at the country club. I went to work with either her or my uncle (depending on what my uncle's newspaper reporter/photographer job assignment was that day). Sometimes the subject matter of his assignments wasn't appropriate for a little girl, so I had to go to the library with Grandma.

However, on bridge tournament days, I always went with Grandma. While she played bridge, I got to swim in the pool. I guess because the bridge games were in the early morning, there was seldom anyone else at the pool, not even a life guard that I can remember. I happily spent those hours playing ...you guessed it... Sea Hunt. Every day I made up a new episode of deep sea adventures for me and "Mike Nelson" (the character played by Lloyd Bridges). Together we conquered villains, rescued trapped children and assorted animals, played with dolphins and whales, and even helped the Navy fight off pirates. And just as Lloyd Bridges did at the end of every show, at the end of two hours in the pool, I climbed out of the water and made a plea to protect the worlds oceans.

Fast forward three years to one of the most horrible days of my life - period. It just so happened to involve swimming. As I said last week, I was never a strong swimmer, and I proved it one particular Saturday when my church youth group went to a small recreational lake for the day. There was a platform in the middle of the lake, probably 100 yards or so from the shore. The muscled out, golden tanned, incredibly cute life guards paddled around in row boats as all the kids swam to and from the diving platform. I wasn't sure I could swim that far, but being thirteen and stupid, I gave it a try.

The journey to the platform nearly killed me, but I made it. I was certain that with a little rest, I'd make it back to the shore. So, I climbed onto the platform, got my wind, and then jumped back into the water for my return trip. I jumped feet first, with my arms extended straight above my head.

The problem was not the jump, it was with the fact that I wore a two piece swimsuit, and hadn't quite "blossomed" into full womanhood. I entered the water straight and true. My suit top, however, slipped off and stayed on the surface. When I surfaced, all I heard was a gaggle of boys cracking up and all of them pointing at my swimsuit top floating on the rippling water.

I not only couldn't swim well, I had no idea how to tread water. I sank, which was fine, because at that moment I really wanted to die.

Did I mention how cute those lifeguards were? The next thing I knew, one of them had me by the arm and told me to hang on to the back of the boat and they'd tow me to shallow water. I gurgled like an idiot and pointed to my top, padded cups sticking up off the water surface like the Spanish Peaks.

The life guards turned the boat around and headed out to "deep water" and rescued my top, flinging it into the boat bottom. For the second time, I wanted to drown. The boat turned toward shore with me trying desperately to keep my hands on the stern edge and my chest completely submerged in the murky water.

Extremely cute life guard stopped in about three feet of water, tossed my top into the water next to me, and suggested that I stay near the shore. Honestly, I wished they'd just let me go ahead and drown.

That was not one of my finer days.

A decade after that, my mom was part of a threesome of friends. I'll call them Lydia and Nadine. Both had pools in their backyards, and we often spent Sunday afternoons at their houses, swimming, grilling, and what have you.

Lydia was not a good housekeeper. Her home was filthy, especially her kitchen which was coated with dusty and rancid smelling grease. However, her pool was always sparkling. I seldom ate when we were at Lydia's house, but I enjoyed swimming.

Nadine kept a spotless home - white carpet and all. However, the one and only time I jumped into her pool, I came up covered in slimy frog eggs. I don't mean a few, I mean thousands of them. I kind of yelped and sloshed out of the pool, slime filled with black dots running off my eyelashes, hair, fingertips. Nadine casually said, "We just ignore the frog eggs. They won't hurt you." I wasn't afraid, just totally grossed out.

So, the rule of thumb: don't eat at Lydia's, don't swim at Nadines. Actually, had there been a choice, I would have preferred to stay home and not go to either place.

So, what about you?

Did you ever play Sea Hunt or some other pool game when you were a kid?

Do you have any "I wish I could just die" swimming events in your life?

What were your swimming disasters?

Fascinating Friday

2011-06-24T10:39:00.000-05:00

I like to go to this site every week: TED: Ideas worth sharing. (Click on the red to go to the site).

Out of the fifteen or so videos, which were all so interesting, I chose two to share with you today. I hope you are as amazed and moved as I was by the photography of icebergs in the first video. It's just over four minutes.

The second video, clocking in at nine and a half minutes, blew me away. As I watched it, I became so inspired to silence any voice within my head that tells me I cannot do something or that a setback might be anything other than a gift from God intended to hurl me into my greatest potential and the fulfillment of dreams I've never thought to dream.

And finally, a funny for those of you who are Trekkies:

Happy TGIF everybody. I'll see you on Monday.

Thoughtful Thursday: You tell me: What are your favorite things to see?

2011-06-23T06:49:00.000-05:00

Today, because it's Thursday and we all could use a little break in the drudgery of the work week, I thought it might be nice to stop for a few minutes and take a mini-mind-vacation.

It's simple...in the comments list five things you love to see. Maybe it's a bird in flight, flowers, shadows, a baby's fingers, sheep grazing on a hillside, an ancient cathedral, your best friends smile, family scrapbooks, postage stamps, butterflies, nebula - whatever it is that you love seeing. You don't have to explain it (you can if you care to share), but it's fine to just keep it simple and private.

This is more like a gift to yourself. A gift of a little breathing space in your week.

Here are mine:

Mountains at dusk
Hawks floating on the wind
My grandma's smile
Antiques
The designs made by a Kaleidoscope

So, What about you?

What are YOUR five top visual breathing spaces?

Wordless Wednesday: Sunrise Splendor

2011-06-22T07:00:00.010-05:00

Friday 17 June 2011

Saturday 18 June 2001

Trivia Tuesday: Summer Reads

2011-06-21T08:43:00.000-05:00

THE BEST BOOK OF SUMMER 2011 (in my humble opinion) is:

This mystery kept me turning pages from the first word. The characters are so alive, so real, so believable. I finished the book a week ago, and I still keep thinking about the characters. Stephen Parish did his research. All the facts about Tavernier, cartography, gemology are the real deal, and the story Steve wove around all this fascinating information is absolutely gripping.

Steve is one of my online writing friends. Here are links to his BLOG and WEBSITE. And here are links to his book at Amazon and Barnes and Noble (and it's available on both Nook and Kindle).

I'll be reading this book a second time, maybe even more - and that's saying something for a mystery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Travis Erwin, one of the readers of my blog and another writing buddy has published a small ebook this summer with a three really great short stories. Believe me, you'll need a tissue when reading the story entitled Whispers - the story of the birth of Travis' oldest son. You can check out his blog by clicking HERE. It's always a good read.

You can buy Whispers for 99¢ at Barnes and Noble and Amazon (click on your favorite store name for the link).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you like mysteries, murder, mayhem, then you'll enjoy this collection put together by another writing buddy - Mark Terry called DEADLY BY THE DOZEN. Another of my online writing friends, Mark Terry along with Stephen Parrish, Travis Erwin, and the prolific authoress and another regular reader of my blog, Erica Orloff all have short stories in the anthology and all of them exquisite reads. (I'm friends with nearly all the authors and believe me they are good writers). The book is available at Amazon (click HERE for the link) and is available for Kindle and Nook (click HERE for the link to B&N).

So, what about you?

What are you reading this summer?

Please share your favorite books this year - I'm about to finish my current read (which I'll review next week) and need to top off my "TBR" list with some fresh new books. (TBR = To Be Read).

Memoir Monday: The Swimming Hole

2011-06-20T14:08:00.001-05:00

Nothing like jumping back into blogging after a three month hiatus with a photo of skinny dipping men. I guess that's as good a place to begin again as any. Actually, the photo does relate to this post, just not my beginning thoughts, so "bare" with me if you will.

I both needed and enjoyed my break and now am refreshed and ready to start sharing my thoughts again.

What have I done with my time since I last posted? Well, I haven't written much at all. I've read a couple delightful books, read one that I sort of liked but won't recommend to just everyone. I started and completed a very complex counted cross-stitch project. Not only does it have a bazillion stitches, it also has a gazillion tiny beads in the border patterns. Here's a photo of the finished piece:

I have to get it framed next time I have a couple hundred dollars lying around collecting dust. I did another one like this that took me five years to finish. It's amazing what having an empty nest will do for craft projects.

I've spent a lot of time in my kitchen the past several months, learning how to cook gluten, wheat, dairy, and sugar free. It was like starting from scratch - pun intended there. That was a very time consuming challenge that in some ways made me feel as though I had plunged through a time machine and came out in the 17th century. Of course it wasn't really like that because I didn't have to catch, kill, and pluck the chicken, didn't have to grow the veggies and fruit, didn't have to chop any wood, stand in a rice paddy or anything. What I did do was give my electric can opener a break. Fortunately only portions of this strict diet will be a life sentence, and the changes have done what we hoped they would.

I've taken a few photographs which will begin showing up on my Wordless Wednesday posts. This week features some pretty sunrise shots I took over the weekend.

I've gotten to spend some time with each of my children. I like having the freedom to drop everything on my "to do list" for a good cuppa coffee and chat.

I've finished decorating the window area of my office. Here's a photo of that.

Did I mention that I've been cooking a lot?

Oh, and I've been doing a lot of cooking.

And cooking...

Okay, I'll stop with that.

One other thing I've done - I went swimming yesterday in my neighbors pool. I hadn't been in a pool for several years, and boy was it refreshing. See, it's been really hot around these parts the past couple of weeks - most uncharacteristic of June. It was nice to get in that cool water and chill for a couple hours. As I floated in the pool on a yellow pool noodle, my mind floated back to how much I loved Friday afternoons in the summer. That was the day my dad would take us to the public swimming pool. Hurst Pool was our "swimming hole." This brings me to the photo at the top of the page...

THE SWIMMING HOLE (1884-85) is a painting by American artist Thomas Eakins and can be seen up close and personal at the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth, Texas. You can read more about the painting and Thomas Eakins by CLICKING HERE. If you've never been to the Amon Carter Museum, it's worth a trip to Fort Worth.

Back to summer swimming, I've always thought it would be fun to skinny dip. The closest I've come to that is taking a bath. Oh well, I can put that on my bucket list I guess. You know I'm gonna ask that question of you at the bottom of the post, so you better start deciding if you're going to tell the truth or lie or ignore the question all together.

Swimming pools have been part of my life since I was a wee little girl. I don't remember it, but there are photo's of me "swimming" in my baby tub outside at my grandmother's house. I was an infant at the time.

My earliest memory of swimming was when I was about 2 years old in one of those two ring blow-up pools. I swam with a neighbor toddler named Jimmy. I don't remember much - I think a green Popsicle was part of the afternoon. What I do remember vividly is Jimmy pooping in the water followed by a sudden end to the swimming for that day. Perhaps the green Popsicle was a consolation prize.

When I was a little older we moved to the mountains of Colorado. It didn't really get warm enough to swim, but we'd go wading in the streams, and of course "slip" on a rock and just happen to fall in. That water was icy cold as it was run-off from the winter snow. It didn't take long for your feet and legs to get numb, and then it wasn't so cold. We had one rule - you had to go sit in the sunshine if your lips turned blue.

After we moved from there, it seemed every other town where we lived had a city pool - usually in the shape of an "A." I guess that was the style back then. One leg of the "A" was shallow, the other leg was for diving (or nearly drowning like I seemed to do frequently). I was not a strong swimmer. Perhaps it would have helped if I had taken some sort of lessons.

My dad taught us to swim. His version of lessons was to dump us in the deep end and see if we could get out alive. If we did, we could swim. If not...well, he'd jump in and rescue us about the time we went down for the third time, plop us on the hot cement, climb out and shove us in again. Rinse and repeat until we could get out ourselves.

Daddy took us to the city pool at one o'clock pm every Friday of the summer unless a storm was brewing. We'd eat an early lunch, put on our swimsuits and then sit on the couch for the next thirty minutes waiting for the food to go down so we didn't get cramps and drown. I have since learned that was just a myth. Even knowing that, I still always wait - just to make sure. Often that wait on the couch turned into a towel fight with my brothers.

I always found that time on summer Fridays was messed up. Time crawled all morning long. Lunch took forever to eat. Thirty minutes on the couch was an eternity. Three hours in the pool - over in five minutes.

We'd dry off, wrap in our towels, climb into the hot car, and then came the hunger pangs. We would feel as though we had not eaten in a week. Good old Daddy - without fail he would pull into the Dairy Queen and buy us all an ice cream cone. That was the best thing in the world. Ice cream after swimming - it just doesn't get much better.

I miss those summer Friday's. Miss my dad and my brothers. Yeah, and I miss having Dairy Queens around. Didn't they serve the best ice cream cones ever?

So what about you?

Have you ever gone skinny-dipping? (I warned you).

Where was your favorite swimming hole?

Who took you swimming?

What are your summer swimming memories?

Did you get a treat after an afternoon at the pool?

What was your favorite kind of DQ ice cream creation?

Are you lucky enough to still have a DQ near you?

While Out and About

2011-05-04T14:32:00.002-05:00

A man started a conversation with me in the grocery store this morning. I was picking out broccoli, and he asked me if I wanted to get some corn on the cob. No, I didn't need corn, but thanked him for the suggestion. I guess I have one of those faces that communicates I'm someone who is looking for a conversation, because this happens to me nearly every time I go to the store.

This gentleman began telling me about how the price of fresh corn has gone up ever since they started adding corn squeezings to our gasoline. I hadn't really noticed the correlation. Food goes up, gasoline goes up. I try to stay within my budget. End of thought process.

I reached over his basket for a bag of Brussels Sprouts, and he pointed out the case of lite beer he had in his cart. "My doctor prescribed beer after I had my heart attack," he said as he jackhammered his finger on the top of one of the cans.

I grinned. I couldn't help it. I've heard a lot of excuses for drinking beer, but never that it's a cure for a heart attack. He went on to explain that apparently beer helps raise HDL cholesterol (that's the good kind), and ended his rationalization by patting his ample belly and saying, "I drink the lite to cut down on calories."

My grin turned into a full blown smile. I guess if you need a good excuse to drink beer, now you have one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple days ago, I went into a convenience store for a bottle of water. The cost was 99¢, so I slapped a one dollar bill down on the counter. The cashier took the bill and asked, "Do you want your change?"

Now that's a real dilemma. I grew up poor. Pennies had great value back then, and they still do to my way of thinking. I realize today they don't seem to be worth anything, but last time I counted, 100 of those little copper coins equalled a dollar bill. 1000 of them will buy me a little over two gallons of gasoline that's been cut with 15% corn squeezings.

I felt foolish when I told the clerk, "Yes, I would like my change." She confirmed my suspicion that if I said yes, she would think I was an idiot. She rolled her eyes and sighed rather loudly as she handed me my penny.

At least she asked. Not every business does. I generally shop at two grocery stores. Both have those machines that spit out the coin portion of your change. Both stores consistently don't give me the pennies I'm due back. It's never more than 4¢. That's not going to hurt my budget. But, those pennies would go into a jar, and then later rolled and deposited into my savings account.

As if the store isn't making profit on what they sell, they are also racking up quite a nice little profit by rounding down the amount of change each cash paying customer gets back.

If they keep my 4¢, and say they have 100 customers who also unwittingly "donate" 4¢ to the store, and that happens every day for a year, that store has boosted their profits by $1460. That's a nice chunk of change - that they have stolen.

Just saying. I haven't made a big deal about it, like calling the manager. I could just use my debit card instead of cash to solve the problem.

It's the whole principle of honesty and integrity, the lack of having a choice about my own pennies, and the store knowing that nobody is going to throw a hissy fit over 4¢.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Few Other Odds and Ends:

I loved the royal wedding. The music was amazing. The hats on a certain two royal princesses made me laugh. I found the fact that the reporters entourage came complete with bonafide lip readers so we all could eavesdrop on the private whispers the bride and groom shared at the altar a bit too intrusive.

I don't want to see photographs of Osama bin Laden's body.

Funniest response to Mr. bin Laden's death, shamelessly ripped from Travis Erwin's Facebook page: "I can't help but wonder if the sharks in the North Arabian Sea are coughing up hair balls today."

New Photos From the Japanese Garden

2011-05-01T17:47:00.000-05:00

Saturday my husband and I went to the Japanese Garden. This was our first visit. It won't be our last. We wanted to be outside in the pretty sunshine, get a little exercise, and just let our souls be nourished with green.

We got all of that, plus some hungry carpe, a few flowers and berries, a soothing zen garden, and a couple cutie patootie children.

Without further wordage, here is a peek at some of what we saw.

↑↑↑

Can you see the two LARGE snakes slithering out of the water onto the rocks? One is in the foreground just to the right of the fan shaped plant. The other is under the rock overhang.

↑↑↑

I LOVED those baby legs and I wanted to kiss his sweet chubby feet!

Wordless Wednesday: Springs Progression

2011-04-20T09:27:00.002-05:00

For Good

2011-04-18T07:42:00.000-05:00

This past weekend I attended a party with a lot of folks from my high school class. We've been getting together several times a year for the past couple of years, everyone is invited, everyone is welcome. We intend to keep it up and grow old together.

There's something comfortable about old friends from elementary school, junior high, high school. It's nice to be with people who have known you your whole life.

As I was driving home Saturday night, I thought about how years ago as well as now, these dear friends contributed so much to me becoming the woman I am today, and how thankful I am to have them in my life now.

I had the radio on and "For Good" came on. It's a song from the musical WICKED. As art does, it touched me - especially with my heart and soul so full of the stuff of lifelong friendships.

Here's the song, and the lyrics are below:

Because I knew you...
I've been changed for good.

I'm limited
Just look at me - I'm limited
And just look at you -
You can do all I couldn't do

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good...

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-witten mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

Because I knew you
I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better

And because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.

So what about you?

Who are the people in your life you could say this about?

Have you taken a few minutes to express to them your appreciation?

Here's an idea! Send them a link to this song. It's a great way to say what's on your heart.

Wordless Thursday: Springs Progression

2011-04-07T06:11:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday: Spring's Progression

2011-03-30T15:15:00.000-05:00

Memoir Monday: Towing Cars

2011-03-28T12:43:00.001-05:00

This past year my husband and #2 son put a new engine in our son's car. I won't go into all the ups and downs other than to say that there were way more downs than ups. Eventually, however, the engine was installed, wires and hoses connected and we all held our collective breath while my husband turned the ignition. Voila, it turned over and actually ran. There was much garage dancing that evening.

Our son was sent on his way with one dire warning: If the Oil Pressure Light comes on, stop immediately, park, turn off the engine and do not drive it another inch.

As all idiot lights do at some point in the life of a car, about a week later, the oil pressure light came on. Our son stopped, parked, and called his dad. Fortunately the light came on just as our son arrived at work, so other than the fact that his job involves delivering pizza's, using his car, it couldn't have happened at a better location.

My husband and I drove both of our cars the two miles to our son's work. Our son met us in the parking lot with about five pizza's ready to be delivered. I handed him the keys to my car and he took off while my husband knocked around for a few minutes under the hood. He couldn't figure out if there was indeed a problem or not. Idiot lights sometimes mean there is a problem, and sometimes they mean you are nothing but the brunt of a bad joke.

After much standing around, shuffling of feet, deep thought, quick financial mathematics, it was decided that we would not call a wrecker. It was late evening, traffic not too heavy, we'd just tow it home. We headed to Lowe's where we bought a tow chain, and returned to the broken down car with me chewing my fingernails, my stomach churning instead of digesting.

That's because I have helped tow cars before. I've helped my dad, my granddad, my brothers, several boyfriends, and my father-in-law with that task, but never my husband. We've enjoyed a wonderful marriage and friendship. I didn't want to see it tainted with a towing experience.

See, I've been behind the steering wheel of both the pulling car and the pulled car. Most of the time, I've been in the rear car - the one responsible for denting the fender and shattering brake lights of the front car. I've also, without fail been screamed at by the very man I was trying to help. I've also been cursed at and made to feel like a total nincompoop. After the last time, I told myself I would never help tow a car again. E.V.E. R.

Car towing seems to bring out the worst in a man. Oh sure, they tell you all the rules like: Put on your hazard flashers. Don't ruin my car. Use your turn signals when going around corners. Don't wreck my car. Keep the chain tight. Don't run into the back of my car. You won't have any power steering, so it will be hard to turn the wheels. Don't smash up my car. Don't ride the brakes, just tap on them. Don't dent up my car. Oh, and there won't be power brakes, so you'll really have to romp on 'em - but don't ride them. Don't run into the back of my car. Don't give me a whiplash. Don't hit my car. And so forth.

What the men don't tell you is this: He'll be using sign language and he expects you to understand it. He won't tell you that when he waves his arms around like a maniac, he is giving important strategic, bumper saving commands.

Hey, if you wave at me, I'm going to flirt back. I'll smile and wave. Heck I might even twiddle my fingers at you and blow you a kiss. I will not automatically think you are trying to tell me I'm doing something wrong that's going to cost a few thousand dollars to fix.

Another thing men don't get, is that while driving or being towed with the radio on and the traffic noise and all, when he hangs his head out the window and shouts, I cannot understand a word he is saying. I will probably assume he is telling me he is going to stop for a soda. I'll nod my head that it's fine, and I'll shout back that I'd like one too -- diet, caffeine free, and lots of ice.

So, while my husband connected the chain to both cars, I chewed my nails because the pulling car that night was my husbands brand new car. He really likes that car. He's taken very good care of it, and now I might be responsible for rear-ending it (maybe even multiple times). Not good.

With the chain connected to both cars, my husband looks at me and says, "Okay. You pull me."

I lock eyes with him, spit out a sliver of my last fingernail, and say, "I will help you tow this car home. I assure you I will be doing my dead-level best. I have only one condition. Do not yell at me. Do not yell at me while we're driving. Do not yell at me at stop lights. Do not yell at me when we get home. If you cannot make that promise, I'll go help our son deliver pizza's. He can bring me home after his shift and you can call a wrecker service."

My sweet husband put his arms around me, kissed my forehead, and made a vow to me. "I promise I will not yell at you. I assume full responsibility for everything that happens. If you slam on the brakes for no apparent reason and I crash into the back of my new car, it will be my fault, not yours. Just keep the speed around 25mph and pray for green lights.

With that blessed assurance, I hop in the car, wait for him to tap his horn that he's all set and ready to go. I turn on the engine, ease the car forward until I feel the chain tug, and then I begin rolling forward.

Piece of cake! I flip on the radio and switch from Mark's oldie station to my classical. Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture is playing. Cannons boom behind the orchestra, church bells ring victory. The music is building toward Tchaikovsky's traditional World War Three ending.

I glanced back in the rearview mirror and can't see a thing but two headlights. I assumed all is well. We got all green traffic lights. I pulled up in front of our house and stopped exactly where I was instructed and then hopped out of the car practically high-fiving myself for my stellar towing. With a lilt to my voice I said, "That went really well!"

My husband got out of the car. Even though it was not a warm night, sweat was drilling down the sides of his face. I could tell he was grinding his molars by the way his temples pulsed in and out. He said, without yelling, even though I'd call his tone emphatic, "You did fine, honey. Did you happen to notice me waving at you?"

"Nope. I couldn't see a thing except headlights. Since you didn't honk, I figured everything was fine."

"Well, I'm glad we saved a couple hundred bucks on the wrecker, because I'm going to have to put new brakes in this car. I'll tell you one thing... I will NEVER tow another car as long as I live." (That last sentence is where he got emphatic).

Evidently the chain we bought was a tad too short (like by about 20 feet) and required a reaction time beyond that which is humanly possible. My poor man romped on the brakes with both feet. He steered the car with his knee because he had to use both hands to pull up on the emergency brake lever all the way home to keep from slamming into his own car.

Though he kept his vow and didn't so much as raise his voice to me, I could tell he REALLY WANTED TO SCREAM AT ME FOR BEING SUCH A NINCOMPOOP.

Wordless Wednesday: Spring's Progression

2011-03-23T10:17:00.000-05:00

Two Weeks Ago

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Last Week

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Today

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Assorted things that caught my eye this morning

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It's Slash Time

2011-03-21T11:21:00.000-05:00

One of the things I like about getting older is realizing my limitations. I can't do everything. Heck, I don't even WANT to do everything. Living slow is more, well...me. I guess I'm a dreamer. I like to contemplate things, sit back and take a good long look at things. Then I like to take a photograph of it, write it into a scene in my book. But, first, I must sit with things for a while.

That takes time.

Another thing is realizing that the world won't end if I make a change or two. I won't lose or disappoint REAL friends (or blog readers).

These past several weeks, I've been rather sporadic in posting to my blog. I'd rather be dependable.

So, I've decided to change my posting schedule to Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

I'll see you Wednesday with some photography and thoughts.

Beth

Friday Fun

2011-03-18T11:17:00.001-05:00

This has been a week I'll never forget. It's been ten years since I was last glued to my television. Back then it was Sept. 11, 2001 and the terrible destruction at the World Trade Center in New York. This week it's been all about Japan.

Another time that stand out was watching the Gulf War and Operation Desert Storm. And the tsunami in Indonesia a few years back.

After each of these events I find myself agitated, not sleeping real well. My mind goes to dark places trying to predict my own future.

What if the nearby nuclear power plant were to have a problem? How would that affect me? My family? What would I do?

What if terrorists targeted my city? Would I be a casualty or a hero or neither?

What if we had an earthquake? What if I didn't have water, food or shelter?

What if all of this happened at once?

All of these questions are upsetting, and ones that I think most of us are asking ourselves on some level.

We feel guilty for daring to go out and enjoy ourselves when others in Japan are suffering so much devastation.

Part of the reason I have had these thoughts is because I have the technology to bring these horrors into my home, my living room, my bedroom, my kitchen, and my office. Heck, I can have it with me 24/7 with my smart phone.

In essence, since I've been an adult, I've invited into my life war, tsunamis, massive earthquakes, terrorist attacks, a nuclear disasters, not to mention murders, car wrecks, mudslides, fires, rapes and physical assaults, and a multitude of other violence. I'm not talking about movies and books. I'm talking about real life, all in my home via television, newspapers, the internet.

Enough. I do not want these things in my home.

There are so many other wonderful things that I can bring in that are full of beauty, goodness, peace, inspiration, and motivation.

And so, today, at the end of a long week of sadness, I give you the following two and a half minutes of tranquility.

Happy TGIF! Have a great weekend, and I'll see you Monday.

5.6k Saturn Cassini Photographic Animation from stephen v2 on Vimeo.

Wordless Wednesday: Spring's Progression

2011-03-16T06:12:00.000-05:00

Last week the Sweet Gum tree was putting on a few buds. ⇓

Here's how things have changed in seven days ⇓

Last Week ⇓

This week ⇓

Pretty new growth on the shrubs ⇓

Remember those sweet minuscule flowers from last week? ⇓

Now the clover is adding it's blossoms ⇓

And it simply wouldn't be spring without an abundance of these fellows -

The harmless Skeeter Hawk. ⇓

Making Sense of It All

2011-03-15T09:48:00.000-05:00

I sat for an hour last night trying to figure out what to write for today's post. My heart wanted to write something that helped make sense of the devastation in Japan. It's not often that words fail to make themselves available to me, but on this topic they did. They simply refused to form themselves into sentences.

However, one of this blogs most faithful readers, Nancy, did find words.

So, today, I am providing a link to her post.

Please go read it. You'll be glad you did.

For the link to NANCY'S BLOG, click anywhere on this line.

Memoir Monday: The Gum Drawer

2011-03-14T07:30:00.003-05:00

This is my paternal grandfather, Harry V. Wood. We grandchildren called him Granddad, but everybody else, including his great-grandchildren called him Bunny. He had been called Bunny since he was a toddler, but he never knew the reason why.

He was so much fun - loved "the kiddies" as he called us, loved to play the organ and sing songs with us.

He wrestled with us and let us dog-pile on him.

He did magic tricks with coins.

He also had a burp button. There was a place on his chest that we could push and without fail, he burped.

He also was wired in such a way that if you pushed his nose, his tongue popped out, then if you pulled an ear, his tongue would go to that side, pull the other ear and it would go that direction. To get his tongue back in his mouth, you had to pull the loose skin on his neck - and in it would go.

You never knew what he'd do, like the morning he got up and came out to the den wearing an old gray wig.

The best thing about Granddad was a special drawer in one of the end tables in his living room that was full of chewing gum - only the Wriggly brand - Juicy Fruit, Spearmint, and Doublemint. I don't mean a couple packs, I mean that drawer was full. And he let us have as much of it as we wanted, whenever we wanted it, and he would not let Grandma or our parents put any limits on our access to the gum drawer.

There were times when I'd go to sleep with a big mouthful of gum and wake up with it all over my pillow and hair and nightgown. Oy, what a mess, but nobody was allowed to get onto us when we had a mishap with the gum.

I don't know why he made a gum drawer, but I can tell you we loved it! All five of us grandkids loved it.

As a matter of fact, when we all gathered at his home after he passed away (and we were all in our 40's), to a person, we each checked that gum drawer. It was the only time in our lives that drawer was empty.

Kinda made us sad - we knew he really was gone.

My kids might hate me for it, but I am planning on having a gum drawer whenever grandchildren come along. I think it's a tradition worth carrying on.

So what about you?

What extravagances did your grandparents allow you?

What treats do you remember that were unique to your grandparents home?

What will you carry forward for the kiddies in your life?

Memoir Monday: For My Friend Brent

2011-03-07T07:30:00.002-06:00

One of my friends from high school, a regular reader who comments on Facebook, requested a repeat of a post I wrote in December about my Grandma. So, this is for Brent.

My Grandma loved her boys, my dad and my uncle.

She loooooved her five grandchildren too.

I was the first grandchild and she had the above photograph taken when I was born. Look at that million dollar smile! And can you see the light in her eyes? Her face looked exactly like this whenever I walked into the room. Nothing was more important than us kids. Nothing.

It has been said that when a child is born, so is a mother.

I venture to say that the same principle applies to grandmothers, and my goodness, Grandma was one of the best ever. I spent entire summers at her house, and nearly every Christmas she and granddad came to our house or we went to theirs. They took us kids on vacations and to amusement parks, and gave us all kinds of interesting experiences that I treasure.

She spoiled us and lavished her love on us.

The summer between 7th an 8th grades, Grandma and Granddad decided to fly each of the grand children to Los Angeles, where they were living at the time, so they could spend an entire summer with each one of us. One grandchild per year for the next five years. We went in order of our births, so I was the first to have a dream summer vacation.

Actually, Grandma referred to my summer as my "Cinderella Vacation." At the time, being nearly 13, and trying to figure out how to be a cool teenager, I was a bit put off with the whole "Cinderella" theme, but as usually happens, it's become a precious memory.

Every morning of that summer, Grandma would line out things we could do, and I got to choose what we'd do that day. Over the course of the summer, she and Granddad took me to Disneyland five different times, Knotts Berry Farm, three times, a huge aquarium two times, we played in the surf at countless beaches (Seal Beach, Long Beach, Redondo Beach, Malibu Beach, Laguna Beach to name a few that I remember), Granddad took me deep sea fishing three times. At night we went out to eat in LA's finest restaurants, and saw countless shows, attended art events and concerts. And then of course, when we weren't at the beach or some tourist place, we went shopping.

Grandma bought me everything I wanted - a watch, pretty little outfits and gorgeous flowing nylon nightgowns. One day Grandma took me to a place where Japanese women dove down into large tanks and harvested oysters. Then they'd cut the oyster open and you'd get a pearl. You paid a certain price, but I wasn't really paying attention to the money factor. Anyway, Grandma told the lady to get three oysters for me, and inside one of them was a pearl about 1 centimeter in diameter. The other two had pearls , one silver, one black, about 1/2 a centimeter in diameter. Grandma had the larger pearl set into a white gold ring, and the other two made into a matching necklace -- for me -- while we waited. I felt like a princess, I tell ya.

Then, at night,before going to bed, Grandma insisted that I spend a few minutes journaling about my adventures that day, so I'd always remember my "Cinderella Vacation." That's the summer I began journaling, and I've been doing it ever since.

The following Christmas, Grandma gave me a charm bracelet as my special gift. She included four charms, and she carefully explained the special meaning behind each charm.

I had started playing the flute the year before, and Grandma loved hearing me play. She told me she gave me the flute charm so that I would remember that whenever I played the flute, the notes and music would eventually find their way into her heart, no matter how far away she was.

The candy cane was to be a forever reminder of all the Christmases we'd spent together, the fun we'd had, the family singing together every night, and how much she and I looked forward to seeing each other. She told me that when I looked at the candy cane, that I could know for sure that even though she'd gone home, I'd be seeing her again.

The Disneyland Castle charm was to remind me of my "Cinderella Vacation" and all that we did together, and that nobody would ever be able to take those wonderful memories from me.

And then the last charm she gave me was this heart with a music note and a pearl. The pearl was to remind me of the day I got my pearl jewelry and the fun we'd had together watching the lady dive down and pick out just the right oyster. she told me to remember that my life had treasures hidden in it that I would discover over the years, and that as I discovered these treasures, I should set them out so that the whole world could see and benefit from them.

The music note was to remind me to always let the song in my heart sing freely, and that I'd never be alone or unhappy as long as I could sing the song that was my own special song to sing in the world.

And the heart...simply to remind me, that Grandma loved me with all her heart and that her love would always be with me in my own heart, no matter what, and forever.

What I didn't know at the time, nor did I know it for the next seven years, was that the spring before my "Cinderella Vacation" Grandma had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. It was slow growing, but terminal nonetheless. They predicted she had about 7-9 years to live, and she wanted to spend the summer of those first five years with each of her grandchildren.

When she gave me those charms, she was giving me a message for my lifetime, and though I didn't know it at the time, there was something in the way she looked me in the eye, the seriousness and urgency in her voice that told me to not only pay attention to what she was saying (hard to do on Christmas morning at 13 years old), but also to hear what she said with my heart. I'm so glad I was able to do that. It is like her words were seared onto my soul, and they have been a source of steady support and encouragement all these years.

She died nine years after my "Cinderella Vacation."

Thank you, my dearest Grandma.

What about you?

Did your grandma or Granddad give you a life legacy?

What are your favorite memories of times spent with your grandparents?

What life gifts would you like to thank them for?