When Philip and Joan Worth's cat Brumas went out for a walk last Friday near his Devon, England, home, he was the same shade of white he'd always been.
When he came back later that day, the 9-year-old male was a delicate shade of pink.
"He was pink — Barbie pink," Joan Worth told the BBC. "His head, ears and right down his body, although not underneath, had gone a quite brilliant pink."
The next day, Brumas was taken to the vet, who found nothing wrong with him and also said the color was nothing toxic.
"We have thought about everything as to how this happened, from him being covered in some form of cow treatment to children's poster paints," said Philip Worth.
It doesn't seem to be paint, as Brumas' fur isn't matted. None of the Worths' five other cats have been affected.
"He seems fine, he's eating well," observed Joan Worth, "and the other cats aren't terribly bothered."
--from the FoxNews.com site.
Now, this leads to some interesting speculation. WHAT could that cat have gotten himself into? a Pepto-Bismol factory? a cotton candy mixer? I know-- he musta met up with some Mary Kay consultants! or... perhaps he's decided to take a pro-active stand in the fight against breast cancer? That's a pretty noble effort- for a cat. I'm glad he chose that color.
But, honestly! How DID he become that color?? especially if it's not paint? chalk? inks? Send your ideas to me-- address them to the Pink Panther....
So much to ponder.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Friday, September 02, 2005
Just say NO! No, no, New Orleans....
Walking to New Orleans...
lyrics by: Bobby Charles; inspired by and sung by: Fats Domino
This time I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm gonna need two pairs of shes
when I get through walking me blues
when I get back to New Orleans
I've got my suitcase in my hand
now ain't that a shame.
I'm leaving here today
yes
I'm going back home to stay.
Yes
I'm walking to New Orleans
You used to be my honey
till you spent all my money.
No use for you to cry
I see you buy and buy
'cause I`m walking to New Orleans
I've got no time for talking.
I've got to keep on walking.
New Orleans is my home
that's the reason while I'm gone
yes
I`m walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
Today in the news- it was reported that Antonio "Fats" Domino had been both rescued and evacuated following the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and the total destruction of New Orleans from the subsequent levy breaks that flooded the "bowl" as predicted by so many doomsayers. I often think of this gifted man as I catch myself humming this little ditty... it will remain poignant even more so now as the great Crescent City will never be the same. And- now- I read these words and reflect on how many of those poor refugees left town (finally) with no shoes and only the shirts on their backs.
I hope that both Fats and the people of New Orleans will be able to look back and also look forward and sing this song proudly. They may also want to sing another of his famous songs: "Blueberry Hill" a catchy tune and clever lyrics that is actually a little town not far from New Orleans. I'm not sure how it fared in the tragedy. It's also coincidental to note that Fats recorded: "Blue Monday" and "Let the Four Winds Blow"... more appropriate words haven't been written in regards to this tragedy.
Regardless-- it's easier to sleep now (almost five days after the beginning of the end) knowing that one of New Orleans' great sons is alive and well.
lyrics by: Bobby Charles; inspired by and sung by: Fats Domino
This time I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm gonna need two pairs of shes
when I get through walking me blues
when I get back to New Orleans
I've got my suitcase in my hand
now ain't that a shame.
I'm leaving here today
yes
I'm going back home to stay.
Yes
I'm walking to New Orleans
You used to be my honey
till you spent all my money.
No use for you to cry
I see you buy and buy
'cause I`m walking to New Orleans
I've got no time for talking.
I've got to keep on walking.
New Orleans is my home
that's the reason while I'm gone
yes
I`m walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
I'm walking to New Orleans
Today in the news- it was reported that Antonio "Fats" Domino had been both rescued and evacuated following the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and the total destruction of New Orleans from the subsequent levy breaks that flooded the "bowl" as predicted by so many doomsayers. I often think of this gifted man as I catch myself humming this little ditty... it will remain poignant even more so now as the great Crescent City will never be the same. And- now- I read these words and reflect on how many of those poor refugees left town (finally) with no shoes and only the shirts on their backs.
I hope that both Fats and the people of New Orleans will be able to look back and also look forward and sing this song proudly. They may also want to sing another of his famous songs: "Blueberry Hill" a catchy tune and clever lyrics that is actually a little town not far from New Orleans. I'm not sure how it fared in the tragedy. It's also coincidental to note that Fats recorded: "Blue Monday" and "Let the Four Winds Blow"... more appropriate words haven't been written in regards to this tragedy.
Regardless-- it's easier to sleep now (almost five days after the beginning of the end) knowing that one of New Orleans' great sons is alive and well.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
I hope you are loved this much...
This morning my dear husband had a profound memory. The kind that comes from within the depths of childhood recollections so deep that when experienced- it caught him by surprise and brought a catch to his breath.
His mother was deeply, deeply loved. She was brought up by her mother and surrounded by a bevy of doting paternal aunts while her father was away during the War. Byron knew most of these aunts and was cherished by these same women. The memory is of one of the aunts, Choxie- and the revelation to Byron of true and unconditional love through a mostly benign incident.
One day while he was out mowing in her yard, he got some debris in his eye. During the course of cleaning his eye- Aunt Choxie was peering into his eyes and commented to him that "your eyes are the same as your mama's." But, what Byron saw was deeper and into her very soul- and he knew then and there how much she loved his mother.
What prompted all this was a casual conversation of a movie we saw recently that had a character that was remarkably like Aunt Choxie in her mannerisms. And, though this woman was a little rough around the edges- she had a heart and love more valuable than gold.
I hope that you are loved (and that you love) to this degree. So much so that when someone remembers you years later- they remember the depth of that emotion.
His mother was deeply, deeply loved. She was brought up by her mother and surrounded by a bevy of doting paternal aunts while her father was away during the War. Byron knew most of these aunts and was cherished by these same women. The memory is of one of the aunts, Choxie- and the revelation to Byron of true and unconditional love through a mostly benign incident.
One day while he was out mowing in her yard, he got some debris in his eye. During the course of cleaning his eye- Aunt Choxie was peering into his eyes and commented to him that "your eyes are the same as your mama's." But, what Byron saw was deeper and into her very soul- and he knew then and there how much she loved his mother.
What prompted all this was a casual conversation of a movie we saw recently that had a character that was remarkably like Aunt Choxie in her mannerisms. And, though this woman was a little rough around the edges- she had a heart and love more valuable than gold.
I hope that you are loved (and that you love) to this degree. So much so that when someone remembers you years later- they remember the depth of that emotion.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Fly me to the moon.....
What a bunch of air-heads!!
or...
Out of this world investments!
or....
What to get for the person that has everything!!
A homestead on the moon!?? Well, sure-- why not! Sign me up, Scotty! I want a piece of the action... a little sliver of green cheese on my face... since I'm married and I share everything with dear ole' hubby- then, I guess he'll be my man in the moon! Whatya bet Jackie Gleason bought some and sent Alice to the moon?? And, I'm sure Frank Sinatra invested-- especially since he was always getting flown up there! I'll have good neighbors anyway!
To get yours before the land run is all gobbled up, visit:
http://www.planetaryinvestments.com/
See ya there!
or...
Out of this world investments!
or....
What to get for the person that has everything!!
A homestead on the moon!?? Well, sure-- why not! Sign me up, Scotty! I want a piece of the action... a little sliver of green cheese on my face... since I'm married and I share everything with dear ole' hubby- then, I guess he'll be my man in the moon! Whatya bet Jackie Gleason bought some and sent Alice to the moon?? And, I'm sure Frank Sinatra invested-- especially since he was always getting flown up there! I'll have good neighbors anyway!
To get yours before the land run is all gobbled up, visit:
http://www.planetaryinvestments.com/
See ya there!
Had enough??
Mimi used to say... "We just sit here and watch all the violence on the 24 hour news channel and when we've had enough we change over to the Animal Channel and watch little critters eat one another."
Boy. Ain't that the truth. An online friend wrote recently of their two pet hamsters (a father and son no less) that were brought home and the son preceeded to mature and canibalize his father. Well. It happens. Call it too much testostrone. Or- survival of the fittest. If you've got more than one male in the environment (contrived or natural)- then, there's gonna be a fuss. That's just the way of it.
Consider this. Even TURTLES are territorial.
With that having been said- it's been a "relatively" smooth last couple of weeks with both of the males in my household being "home" at the same time. PTL. No mountain goats displaying major head-butting sessions; no King o' the Mountain bravado and posturing and no major theatrics.
Just lots of smoking and hot air. And- I mean that LITERALLY not figuratively! The double-barrelled Big Baby (and his master) have smoked at least four briskets, as many racks of ribs, too many chickens to count and one fabulous pork loin. Yum. It's also been the hottest this week- I wouldn't care to have to sit and mind the fire; but, some peeps don't seem to mind it! And, we've eaten well around here. I was even persuaded to make some of Aunt Ruth's famous bbq sauce; I stayed in the a/c with a fan on me, mind you! My personal opinion is that the Man should buy the local Bar-B-Q joint and cook to his heart's content; and/or set up a metal fabrication shop and build the smokers to sell. But- that's just my "dreaming" as it's called around here.
I can only hope that what we've experienced is not like the middle-Eastern peace (traumatic, unsteady and most assuredly gonna fail) as it looks as if the Son will be living here awhile longer yet.
So... it's my turn for some time off. I've scheduled two crop weekends in September and November and a Keyton girls' weekend event with the sisters and the new lil' sil2b in Dallas. Oh, boy! Serious girl time!
C'est la vie!
Boy. Ain't that the truth. An online friend wrote recently of their two pet hamsters (a father and son no less) that were brought home and the son preceeded to mature and canibalize his father. Well. It happens. Call it too much testostrone. Or- survival of the fittest. If you've got more than one male in the environment (contrived or natural)- then, there's gonna be a fuss. That's just the way of it.
Consider this. Even TURTLES are territorial.
With that having been said- it's been a "relatively" smooth last couple of weeks with both of the males in my household being "home" at the same time. PTL. No mountain goats displaying major head-butting sessions; no King o' the Mountain bravado and posturing and no major theatrics.
Just lots of smoking and hot air. And- I mean that LITERALLY not figuratively! The double-barrelled Big Baby (and his master) have smoked at least four briskets, as many racks of ribs, too many chickens to count and one fabulous pork loin. Yum. It's also been the hottest this week- I wouldn't care to have to sit and mind the fire; but, some peeps don't seem to mind it! And, we've eaten well around here. I was even persuaded to make some of Aunt Ruth's famous bbq sauce; I stayed in the a/c with a fan on me, mind you! My personal opinion is that the Man should buy the local Bar-B-Q joint and cook to his heart's content; and/or set up a metal fabrication shop and build the smokers to sell. But- that's just my "dreaming" as it's called around here.
I can only hope that what we've experienced is not like the middle-Eastern peace (traumatic, unsteady and most assuredly gonna fail) as it looks as if the Son will be living here awhile longer yet.
So... it's my turn for some time off. I've scheduled two crop weekends in September and November and a Keyton girls' weekend event with the sisters and the new lil' sil2b in Dallas. Oh, boy! Serious girl time!
C'est la vie!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
ahhh...David
I thought this photo was appropriate for today. It is so very VERY hot. A person could wilt just sitting next to the windows.
Stay cool.
Friday, August 05, 2005
It's Not Easy Being Green....
It's not that easy being green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold...
or something much more colorful like that.
It's not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ord'nary things.
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
or stars in the sky.
But green's the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain,
or tall like a tree.
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be.
From "The Sesame Street Book and Record". 'Green' is (c)1970 Jonico Music, Inc.
I love these lyrics... they seem to apply to someone special I know. *wink* here's looking at you!
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold...
or something much more colorful like that.
It's not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ord'nary things.
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're
not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
or stars in the sky.
But green's the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain,
or tall like a tree.
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be.
From "The Sesame Street Book and Record". 'Green' is (c)1970 Jonico Music, Inc.
I love these lyrics... they seem to apply to someone special I know. *wink* here's looking at you!
Saturday, July 30, 2005
DEEP THOUGHTS
Save the whales. Collect the whole set.
A day without sunshine is like... night.
And on the other hand, you have different fingers.
99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
Honk if you love peace and quiet.
Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory Plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.
How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand...
OK, so what's the speed of dark?
How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?
What happens if you get scared half to death twice?
I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened.
A day without sunshine is like... night.
And on the other hand, you have different fingers.
99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
Honk if you love peace and quiet.
Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory Plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.
How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand...
OK, so what's the speed of dark?
How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?
What happens if you get scared half to death twice?
I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Worst Writers Welcome... gives a whole new meaning to WWW
ahhh... you always wondered didn't you?
Well- the truth is this. Worst Writers Welcome!
My newest favorite site is http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
Visit it for hilarity and some fine writing faux-pas... it's the worst fiction contest for panjandrums. Yes! That's a really obscure word for "holier than thou high muckety mucks!" or pretentious wordsmiths (just the way I like it!)
You may be acquainted with this beginning line "It was a dark and stormy night..." ? The fine author of this prose is none other than Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830). I have always loved to parody this line (as many others have and will continue to do so). Now, there is a contest for the worst writing! And, I missed it! Darn. Gives me a whole year at least to work on some really bad prose, huh??
so- with that tongue in cheek attitude and a goal to attain; I must go to work. And, you dear readers will have to endure it! In the meantime- feel free to peruse the above mentioned site and perhaps write some of your own!
Ta-ta for now... I'm off to journal and weave some awful adjectives and nouns!
Well- the truth is this. Worst Writers Welcome!
My newest favorite site is http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
Visit it for hilarity and some fine writing faux-pas... it's the worst fiction contest for panjandrums. Yes! That's a really obscure word for "holier than thou high muckety mucks!" or pretentious wordsmiths (just the way I like it!)
You may be acquainted with this beginning line "It was a dark and stormy night..." ? The fine author of this prose is none other than Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830). I have always loved to parody this line (as many others have and will continue to do so). Now, there is a contest for the worst writing! And, I missed it! Darn. Gives me a whole year at least to work on some really bad prose, huh??
so- with that tongue in cheek attitude and a goal to attain; I must go to work. And, you dear readers will have to endure it! In the meantime- feel free to peruse the above mentioned site and perhaps write some of your own!
Ta-ta for now... I'm off to journal and weave some awful adjectives and nouns!
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
The Story Behind the Ingalls Dolls
This is from the Dedication Page of the Ingalls' Album...
When Robin was a 5th grader at Little Cypress Elementary school she was given an English assignment by Mrs Fuller; a book report and a creative project to illustrate the characters. Robin chose the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and made the doll family. She hated the project and wasn’t really thrilled with the dolls.
Fast forward twenty-eight years. Robin grew up and had two boys. The dolls were left in our parent’s attic & survived several moves... Pa Ingalls is eventually discovered by our little sister, Nancy, as they made yet another move- this time to Arkansas. However, Ma (Caroline), Mary and Laura are not packed with Pa and it is a mystery as to where they might be. Pa was admired by the family and since it was near Christmas; and pranks are always a part of our traditions- a plot was hatched. Robin’s Christmas gift was to be a gift certificate for some leopard print bedding (our father had actually shopped all over Little Rock for these items and had not been successful!) Sister, Sally, decorated a Velveeta box (with some papers that looked like our childhood bedroom curtains and leopard prints) to resemble a miniature bed; and upon displaying it- it was found to be just the right scale for Pa! So, he was tucked into the package with the bed and the gift certificate. Come Christmas Day- Robin opened her package and was most pleased with the gift and rather surprised to be reunited with Pa. There was quite a bit of laughter of her memories of the sad little art project and her eventual distaste of the 70’s era bed-linens!
But, Nancy would not let the issue of the missing Ingalls women die. Every time she visited home she would rummage through more boxes and crates in her search. Finally-- in July they were found!! But, where was Pa? Well- of course- he’d gone back to Texas with Robin! After considerable giggling- a plan was concocted to surprise Robin with yet another truly wonderful “gift” for Christmas. And, wouldn’t it be funny if we were to take the “girls” to various favorite childhood places and take pictures of them? After a drive up to the Dwiggins Peach Orchards in Amity- the plot had thickened and included a hilarious story of just why the girls were traveling. Mae and Mother helped to embellish the story and thus the journeys began!
Nancy had a diving trip planned to Cozumel and she would whisk them off to the Mexican Caribbean and snap some more pics. In the style of “Flat Stanley” or “The Traveling Gnome”. The real fun had begun! Nancy and I thought of several scrapbook friends and acquaintances that would be willing to “host” the girls, take a few pictures and send them on their journeys.
We emailed pictures and snail-mailed the dolls back and forth across the nation to our buddies, then Nancy’s office manager decided to visit her family in England and agreed to take the girls on their second big overseas adventure! In the meantime- we collaborated on the scrapbook for Robin. The logistics on this weren’t the easiest- I made the “base” pages and penned some of the “diary” narration. Through email and parcel shipments - we completed the biggest part of the album. Nancy laid-out the pages and edited the narration. At one point- Robin came home for a visit and I invited her to scrapbook with me- well- she wasn’t thrilled! But- she agreed to help cut out dies with the Sizzix machine- thus, even Robin’s handiwork was included in the album.
As Christmas neared- I called Robin’s husband, Stephen, and though he had been blissfully “out of the loop” as far as all the shenanigans- he quickly agreed to be an accomplice in the great scheme. He and Robin’s son, Christopher, snatched Pa off of Robin’s bedroom dresser, packed him up and mailed him to us without her knowledge. Now, almost the whole family was in on the joke! Pa arrived in Arkadelphia and was reunited with his wife and girls and was set in a place of honor next to the Christmas tree.
Our father could not stand to be left out of the action and in typical Keyton merriment, would email us pictures that he had concocted of the Ingalls family (see his journaling on the previous blog entry). They were seated at the breakfast table; in front of the crèche and were the source of a lot of laughter as we anticipated the holiday visit. One night as the family slept- a great ruckus occurred. It seems that the cats, Mama Jenny and Purrscilla-Priscilla, had taken a fancy to the dolls as they were sitting in one of the chairs they pre"furred" to sleep in. The next morning the Ingalls family were all strewn about and Ma Ingalls had been dragged off down the hallway- attacked by a wild panther-ack!! Just to show you that truth can be stranger than fiction!
Robin’s Ingalls dolls were destined for lots of adventures and travels! We had a wonderful time “mock-umenting” a few of these escapades and hope that Robin and her family continue to have many more delightful journeys.
Best Wishes, Sister-- and Many Happy Days! We love you--and don’t forget... we GOTCHA one more time!!
When Robin was a 5th grader at Little Cypress Elementary school she was given an English assignment by Mrs Fuller; a book report and a creative project to illustrate the characters. Robin chose the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and made the doll family. She hated the project and wasn’t really thrilled with the dolls.
Fast forward twenty-eight years. Robin grew up and had two boys. The dolls were left in our parent’s attic & survived several moves... Pa Ingalls is eventually discovered by our little sister, Nancy, as they made yet another move- this time to Arkansas. However, Ma (Caroline), Mary and Laura are not packed with Pa and it is a mystery as to where they might be. Pa was admired by the family and since it was near Christmas; and pranks are always a part of our traditions- a plot was hatched. Robin’s Christmas gift was to be a gift certificate for some leopard print bedding (our father had actually shopped all over Little Rock for these items and had not been successful!) Sister, Sally, decorated a Velveeta box (with some papers that looked like our childhood bedroom curtains and leopard prints) to resemble a miniature bed; and upon displaying it- it was found to be just the right scale for Pa! So, he was tucked into the package with the bed and the gift certificate. Come Christmas Day- Robin opened her package and was most pleased with the gift and rather surprised to be reunited with Pa. There was quite a bit of laughter of her memories of the sad little art project and her eventual distaste of the 70’s era bed-linens!
But, Nancy would not let the issue of the missing Ingalls women die. Every time she visited home she would rummage through more boxes and crates in her search. Finally-- in July they were found!! But, where was Pa? Well- of course- he’d gone back to Texas with Robin! After considerable giggling- a plan was concocted to surprise Robin with yet another truly wonderful “gift” for Christmas. And, wouldn’t it be funny if we were to take the “girls” to various favorite childhood places and take pictures of them? After a drive up to the Dwiggins Peach Orchards in Amity- the plot had thickened and included a hilarious story of just why the girls were traveling. Mae and Mother helped to embellish the story and thus the journeys began!
Nancy had a diving trip planned to Cozumel and she would whisk them off to the Mexican Caribbean and snap some more pics. In the style of “Flat Stanley” or “The Traveling Gnome”. The real fun had begun! Nancy and I thought of several scrapbook friends and acquaintances that would be willing to “host” the girls, take a few pictures and send them on their journeys.
We emailed pictures and snail-mailed the dolls back and forth across the nation to our buddies, then Nancy’s office manager decided to visit her family in England and agreed to take the girls on their second big overseas adventure! In the meantime- we collaborated on the scrapbook for Robin. The logistics on this weren’t the easiest- I made the “base” pages and penned some of the “diary” narration. Through email and parcel shipments - we completed the biggest part of the album. Nancy laid-out the pages and edited the narration. At one point- Robin came home for a visit and I invited her to scrapbook with me- well- she wasn’t thrilled! But- she agreed to help cut out dies with the Sizzix machine- thus, even Robin’s handiwork was included in the album.
As Christmas neared- I called Robin’s husband, Stephen, and though he had been blissfully “out of the loop” as far as all the shenanigans- he quickly agreed to be an accomplice in the great scheme. He and Robin’s son, Christopher, snatched Pa off of Robin’s bedroom dresser, packed him up and mailed him to us without her knowledge. Now, almost the whole family was in on the joke! Pa arrived in Arkadelphia and was reunited with his wife and girls and was set in a place of honor next to the Christmas tree.
Our father could not stand to be left out of the action and in typical Keyton merriment, would email us pictures that he had concocted of the Ingalls family (see his journaling on the previous blog entry). They were seated at the breakfast table; in front of the crèche and were the source of a lot of laughter as we anticipated the holiday visit. One night as the family slept- a great ruckus occurred. It seems that the cats, Mama Jenny and Purrscilla-Priscilla, had taken a fancy to the dolls as they were sitting in one of the chairs they pre"furred" to sleep in. The next morning the Ingalls family were all strewn about and Ma Ingalls had been dragged off down the hallway- attacked by a wild panther-ack!! Just to show you that truth can be stranger than fiction!
Robin’s Ingalls dolls were destined for lots of adventures and travels! We had a wonderful time “mock-umenting” a few of these escapades and hope that Robin and her family continue to have many more delightful journeys.
Best Wishes, Sister-- and Many Happy Days! We love you--and don’t forget... we GOTCHA one more time!!
Sunday, July 24, 2005
The Ingalls Album is now online.... and here's the Diary Journaling!
Well-- it is finally finished! I know you have been waiting patiently!! At least it didn't take as long as a Harry Potter release!... and now, without further ado...I present-
The Ingalls Family Album...
otherwise known as: "Laura's Travels"... from Little Houses to the World Tour
or...
"The Ingalls Girls Search for Pa"...
Thanks to: Nancy & Derral; Caroline; Simone; Mary, Cameron and Cole; Doralisa and Phil; Stephen & Christopher; Richard, Cindy & Mae; and many others!!
See the album here:
http://www.angelfire.com/art2/arkyangel/Ingalls/
Read the journaling here:
July 21, 2004
Dear Diary,
We began our search for Pa near where we last saw him. We know he likes peaches so we went to Amity. The peaches were great, and these nice women, Cindy, Sally and Nancy offered us a Coke (and a smile) and the matriarch of the family, a very sweet lady named Mae, even made us a peach cobbler. They were quite entertaining, and would start fits of giggling for no real reason. Reminds me a lot of the happy times spent listening to Ma and the aunts. They told us that they had seen Pa, and all they knew was that he was headed for Texas. So we leave again in the morning. Ma found us a nice little red convertible car- it's got plenty of horse power- I'm sure Pa would appreciate that!
August 8, 2004
Dear Diary-
We’ve arrived at a “Little Town on the Prairie”, Abilene, Texas. No hot leads for Pa yet, but we’ve stumbled on to quite a few adventures. We got stuck in a cactus patch, which I was not too happy about. Ma and Mary didn’t seem to mind so much, they pretty much smile about every pickle they get into. We did get a horse ride, stopped at Senior Day at the Fair and Rodeo, met a nice man named Derral; flirted with a cowboy or two and ate some good BBQ and a deep fried Snickers bar. At least these West Texas folks know how to eat. The scenery around here reminds me somewhat of being “By the Shores of Silver Lake” what with all the railroads and all. Wish Pa could have been with us- he would like West Texas.
August 23, 2004
Dear Diary-
We headed to south Texas to look for Pa, and somehow ended up in the Mexican Caribbean- that’s Ma’s navigation for you. But while we’re here we searched high and low for Pa anyway- he could have made the same mistake traveling. We didn’t find him floating in the sea, but we did find one nice conch shell for a souvenir. You can even hear the ocean when you hold it up to your ear! I have to say that I could get used to this beach resort life. Maybe once we find Pa, he will come back and enjoy this on vacation- buenos noches.
September 1, 2004
Dear Diary-
We were headed back for Texas, but veered off course again. Ma and Mary should let me read the map. I told them to take a right at Albuquerque, but they didn’t listen. So, we ended up in Santa Fe, New Mexico. While there, we visited the Indian market at the Governor’s Palace and found some incredible deals on turquoise jewelry. You know Mae- she just goes bananas over the stuff- kinda reminded me of the excitement of our Saturday market days.
We ended up spending the night at the Baca B&B- a lovely home at the base of the Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. Our hostess, Carolyn, her husband Fernando and children, Gabriel and Daniella, served us melt-in-your-mouth enchiladas with green chilies and we all enjoyed margaritas by the pool. You can literally see forever up here- Pa is missing a great view. Looking west, it’s almost like the view from our “Little House on the Prairie”.
September 27, 2004
Dear Diary-
Well we’ve not made it back to Texas yet. Ma and Mary had a hunch that Pa may have tried to go back north to the Great Plains. So we set out and ended up back in familiar country-Wisconsin- that’s a super long drive! We are staying in the Hauser House; a boarding house run by a nice scrapbooking lady and her family. Mr and Mrs Dave (Mary) are very nice hosts. Fortunately, we’ were well fed as this is cheese and bratwurst country- there are 3 cheese companies in Sheboyhan County- Borden, Sargento and Sartori, as well as Johnsonville Sausage. We met Elsie''s cousin and then the Hauser boys, Cameron and Cole, took us to the lighthouse on Lake Michigan to look for Pa to get a better look. It’s lovely here, a little nippy- but, not as cold as "The Long Winter" and still no sign of Pa. Next, we’re going to head west to find him.
"How easy and delightful life might be if...when we had attained the position we wished, we might rest on our oars and watch the ripples on the stream of life."
--Laura Ingalls Wilder
October 10, 2004
Dear Diary,
Well we were headed out west, but with all the hassles at the airport, somehow we found ourselves in merry old England. The big expanse of water we flew over was so much bigger than a view from "On the Banks of Plum Creek"- at first I thot it was a river- then realized it was just a big pond. A very nice British expatriate named Simone is serving as our travel guide. So we’'re staying for a few days to enjoy the countryside here and the palace gaurds look like so many little toy soldiers! Stonehenge is nearby to the village we’re staying in. We’ll check it out before going stateside again. Pa used to call me "Half-Pint" when I was younger-- over here all the pints in the pubs are full-pints and kept at room temperature.
November 8, 2004
After another flight delay- Ma got us some extra frequent flyer miles and we are finally back in the U.S.... and, on the west coast! We’'ve arrived in Portland Oregon, and Pa'’s not here either. Another scrapbooking lady- Doralisa Palomares, has generously offered to look for him. We'’ve searched the market, and boy do they have some funky looking cows here- not at all like in Texas or Wisconsin. I don’t think I’ll try the BBQ or the cheese here, but you know Ma and Mary are still saying that I need to lighten up. We even checked the Oregon Vietnam Veterans Living Monument - Pa feels really strongly about patriotism. Doralisa and her friend, Phil, drove us down to Stockton CA and back just to make sure that he Pa hadn't gone searching for gold in them thar hills. We drove behind the snowplows right thru the Pass and saw Mount Shasta. The camera began to have some "issues" so all our lovely pictures are like Mae's fond memories of the day at the World Fair-- well framed and probably the best she ever took... only to discover that there was no film in the camera. :(
Dec 10- We are headed back home to Arkansas, just hoping and praying that maybe Pa will be home by Christmas. My fondest dream is to find him playing some of our favorite tunes on his fiddle. Ma thinks I need to compile all my journal notes from my Big Chief pads into books and tell the story of "These Happy Golden Years". I may just have to do that- life hasn't all ways been a bed of roses--, it's like I've always said...
"...but, at long last, I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all...I believe we would be happier to go back to simpler living and more direct thinking. It is the simple things of life that make living worthwhile, the sweet fundamental things such as love and duty, work and rest and living close to nature. There are no hothouse blossoms that can compare in beauty and fragrance with my bouquet of wild flowers."
--Laura Ingalls Wilder; from "A Little House Sampler"
December 23, 2004
To Whom It May Concern:
From: Keyton’s Bar & Lodge, Mr Keyton- Proprieter
Now, the rest of the story:
The Ingalls family had gone to pay their taxes and had reserved a room in the Inn. When they arrived, the hotelier announced: "The Inn is over booked and all we have left is small cave out back." Now that they had gotten a raw deal on the hotel reservation and were in the outback, they just went ahead a cooked supper. This was the first OUTBACK Restaurant.
Now as why they are there by themselves, it is very simple. Mary and Joseph don't arrive for another two days.
Now that they have a couple of days to sightsee - they are talking about going to Hot Springs to take the baths. While there, they want to walk on Central and have a picture made in front of the National Park sign. They are planning to eat at Stubbies. No pork, you understand!
The Ingalls Family Album...
otherwise known as: "Laura's Travels"... from Little Houses to the World Tour
or...
"The Ingalls Girls Search for Pa"...
Thanks to: Nancy & Derral; Caroline; Simone; Mary, Cameron and Cole; Doralisa and Phil; Stephen & Christopher; Richard, Cindy & Mae; and many others!!
See the album here:
http://www.angelfire.com/art2/arkyangel/Ingalls/
Read the journaling here:
July 21, 2004
Dear Diary,
We began our search for Pa near where we last saw him. We know he likes peaches so we went to Amity. The peaches were great, and these nice women, Cindy, Sally and Nancy offered us a Coke (and a smile) and the matriarch of the family, a very sweet lady named Mae, even made us a peach cobbler. They were quite entertaining, and would start fits of giggling for no real reason. Reminds me a lot of the happy times spent listening to Ma and the aunts. They told us that they had seen Pa, and all they knew was that he was headed for Texas. So we leave again in the morning. Ma found us a nice little red convertible car- it's got plenty of horse power- I'm sure Pa would appreciate that!
August 8, 2004
Dear Diary-
We’ve arrived at a “Little Town on the Prairie”, Abilene, Texas. No hot leads for Pa yet, but we’ve stumbled on to quite a few adventures. We got stuck in a cactus patch, which I was not too happy about. Ma and Mary didn’t seem to mind so much, they pretty much smile about every pickle they get into. We did get a horse ride, stopped at Senior Day at the Fair and Rodeo, met a nice man named Derral; flirted with a cowboy or two and ate some good BBQ and a deep fried Snickers bar. At least these West Texas folks know how to eat. The scenery around here reminds me somewhat of being “By the Shores of Silver Lake” what with all the railroads and all. Wish Pa could have been with us- he would like West Texas.
August 23, 2004
Dear Diary-
We headed to south Texas to look for Pa, and somehow ended up in the Mexican Caribbean- that’s Ma’s navigation for you. But while we’re here we searched high and low for Pa anyway- he could have made the same mistake traveling. We didn’t find him floating in the sea, but we did find one nice conch shell for a souvenir. You can even hear the ocean when you hold it up to your ear! I have to say that I could get used to this beach resort life. Maybe once we find Pa, he will come back and enjoy this on vacation- buenos noches.
September 1, 2004
Dear Diary-
We were headed back for Texas, but veered off course again. Ma and Mary should let me read the map. I told them to take a right at Albuquerque, but they didn’t listen. So, we ended up in Santa Fe, New Mexico. While there, we visited the Indian market at the Governor’s Palace and found some incredible deals on turquoise jewelry. You know Mae- she just goes bananas over the stuff- kinda reminded me of the excitement of our Saturday market days.
We ended up spending the night at the Baca B&B- a lovely home at the base of the Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. Our hostess, Carolyn, her husband Fernando and children, Gabriel and Daniella, served us melt-in-your-mouth enchiladas with green chilies and we all enjoyed margaritas by the pool. You can literally see forever up here- Pa is missing a great view. Looking west, it’s almost like the view from our “Little House on the Prairie”.
September 27, 2004
Dear Diary-
Well we’ve not made it back to Texas yet. Ma and Mary had a hunch that Pa may have tried to go back north to the Great Plains. So we set out and ended up back in familiar country-Wisconsin- that’s a super long drive! We are staying in the Hauser House; a boarding house run by a nice scrapbooking lady and her family. Mr and Mrs Dave (Mary) are very nice hosts. Fortunately, we’ were well fed as this is cheese and bratwurst country- there are 3 cheese companies in Sheboyhan County- Borden, Sargento and Sartori, as well as Johnsonville Sausage. We met Elsie''s cousin and then the Hauser boys, Cameron and Cole, took us to the lighthouse on Lake Michigan to look for Pa to get a better look. It’s lovely here, a little nippy- but, not as cold as "The Long Winter" and still no sign of Pa. Next, we’re going to head west to find him.
"How easy and delightful life might be if...when we had attained the position we wished, we might rest on our oars and watch the ripples on the stream of life."
--Laura Ingalls Wilder
October 10, 2004
Dear Diary,
Well we were headed out west, but with all the hassles at the airport, somehow we found ourselves in merry old England. The big expanse of water we flew over was so much bigger than a view from "On the Banks of Plum Creek"- at first I thot it was a river- then realized it was just a big pond. A very nice British expatriate named Simone is serving as our travel guide. So we’'re staying for a few days to enjoy the countryside here and the palace gaurds look like so many little toy soldiers! Stonehenge is nearby to the village we’re staying in. We’ll check it out before going stateside again. Pa used to call me "Half-Pint" when I was younger-- over here all the pints in the pubs are full-pints and kept at room temperature.
November 8, 2004
After another flight delay- Ma got us some extra frequent flyer miles and we are finally back in the U.S.... and, on the west coast! We’'ve arrived in Portland Oregon, and Pa'’s not here either. Another scrapbooking lady- Doralisa Palomares, has generously offered to look for him. We'’ve searched the market, and boy do they have some funky looking cows here- not at all like in Texas or Wisconsin. I don’t think I’ll try the BBQ or the cheese here, but you know Ma and Mary are still saying that I need to lighten up. We even checked the Oregon Vietnam Veterans Living Monument - Pa feels really strongly about patriotism. Doralisa and her friend, Phil, drove us down to Stockton CA and back just to make sure that he Pa hadn't gone searching for gold in them thar hills. We drove behind the snowplows right thru the Pass and saw Mount Shasta. The camera began to have some "issues" so all our lovely pictures are like Mae's fond memories of the day at the World Fair-- well framed and probably the best she ever took... only to discover that there was no film in the camera. :(
Dec 10- We are headed back home to Arkansas, just hoping and praying that maybe Pa will be home by Christmas. My fondest dream is to find him playing some of our favorite tunes on his fiddle. Ma thinks I need to compile all my journal notes from my Big Chief pads into books and tell the story of "These Happy Golden Years". I may just have to do that- life hasn't all ways been a bed of roses--, it's like I've always said...
"...but, at long last, I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all...I believe we would be happier to go back to simpler living and more direct thinking. It is the simple things of life that make living worthwhile, the sweet fundamental things such as love and duty, work and rest and living close to nature. There are no hothouse blossoms that can compare in beauty and fragrance with my bouquet of wild flowers."
--Laura Ingalls Wilder; from "A Little House Sampler"
December 23, 2004
To Whom It May Concern:
From: Keyton’s Bar & Lodge, Mr Keyton- Proprieter
Now, the rest of the story:
The Ingalls family had gone to pay their taxes and had reserved a room in the Inn. When they arrived, the hotelier announced: "The Inn is over booked and all we have left is small cave out back." Now that they had gotten a raw deal on the hotel reservation and were in the outback, they just went ahead a cooked supper. This was the first OUTBACK Restaurant.
Now as why they are there by themselves, it is very simple. Mary and Joseph don't arrive for another two days.
Now that they have a couple of days to sightsee - they are talking about going to Hot Springs to take the baths. While there, they want to walk on Central and have a picture made in front of the National Park sign. They are planning to eat at Stubbies. No pork, you understand!
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Some people are like Slinkys...
Some people are like Slinys...
Not really good for anything,
but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.
That is a direct quote from my sister. I only hope she didn't have me in mind when she said it!
In other news... we've had a little rain. Yeah. Even a little tiny bit of a shower is that much less I have to water the flowers.
In more other news... large parts of our family have had vactions. Which means they took pictures. Which means that they'd like them arranged in some sort of pictorial review. Which means I need to get with it and scrapbook. I may just have to play around with some lovely inks and stamps and make a few cards, too. Just cuz.
And... while I'm creating-- I'll watch a few movies. Up next on the dvd-reader... "The Terminal".. sounds kinda like a grand finish doesn't it? Well- it's just ole Tom Hanks up to his usual tricks in a great role that for a long part of the film has the same isolated feel as "Castaway". Kinda weird. To be in a large public facility and be so alone? I think that's a good commentary on a lot of American society.
Anyway- I can watch just about anything he's in. Traa-laa-la.
Off to stamp!
Not really good for anything,
but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.
That is a direct quote from my sister. I only hope she didn't have me in mind when she said it!
In other news... we've had a little rain. Yeah. Even a little tiny bit of a shower is that much less I have to water the flowers.
In more other news... large parts of our family have had vactions. Which means they took pictures. Which means that they'd like them arranged in some sort of pictorial review. Which means I need to get with it and scrapbook. I may just have to play around with some lovely inks and stamps and make a few cards, too. Just cuz.
And... while I'm creating-- I'll watch a few movies. Up next on the dvd-reader... "The Terminal".. sounds kinda like a grand finish doesn't it? Well- it's just ole Tom Hanks up to his usual tricks in a great role that for a long part of the film has the same isolated feel as "Castaway". Kinda weird. To be in a large public facility and be so alone? I think that's a good commentary on a lot of American society.
Anyway- I can watch just about anything he's in. Traa-laa-la.
Off to stamp!
Friday, May 13, 2005
I'm a Mommy again!
Well-- no... not a new baby! But- my OLD baby came back... home that is!
My OLD baby is almost 19 years old and has finished his first year of college! And, now, has come home! Woohoo! I'm a mommy again! We've celebrated by catching up on all the news from campus, home and watched some CSI. We're going to go and watch "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" as soon as he's rested up!
Oh, delight! Oh, joy! I guess I can now look forward to KP duty! Hmm.... I wonder if I can remember how? or WHAT to cook?
Peace-out.
My OLD baby is almost 19 years old and has finished his first year of college! And, now, has come home! Woohoo! I'm a mommy again! We've celebrated by catching up on all the news from campus, home and watched some CSI. We're going to go and watch "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" as soon as he's rested up!
Oh, delight! Oh, joy! I guess I can now look forward to KP duty! Hmm.... I wonder if I can remember how? or WHAT to cook?
Peace-out.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
My son the Leprechaun.
Jess a Leprechaun? Who'd have thunk it?
He's a big ole strapping kid! but, when he showed up this week sporting his ragged hair and his RED beard- the first thing I thought of was a leprechaun. He's such a character! And, give him an opportunity and he'll strike a pose and you'd swear you just saw one of the elves of olde! He so reminds me of his daddy at that age! Though their stature and build aren't similar- nor their hair color.. the beard color is! Byron's built more like a traditional leprechaun myth we're familiar with- but, when he grew his beard- he was so stunning! Jess is following in his dad's steps in this respect- even though they are so different in so many other areas of their lives.
He's a big ole strapping kid! but, when he showed up this week sporting his ragged hair and his RED beard- the first thing I thought of was a leprechaun. He's such a character! And, give him an opportunity and he'll strike a pose and you'd swear you just saw one of the elves of olde! He so reminds me of his daddy at that age! Though their stature and build aren't similar- nor their hair color.. the beard color is! Byron's built more like a traditional leprechaun myth we're familiar with- but, when he grew his beard- he was so stunning! Jess is following in his dad's steps in this respect- even though they are so different in so many other areas of their lives.
Cat scratch fevered...
Meoow! You hear that cat-er-walling? Uhhh... I don't. Nope. Not me! Even if I DID hear it- I'm not running out there to bust up a cat fight ever again- unless I use a water hose and a broom!
The other day, Thelonius (originally brother, Jeff's, cat) was attacked by a rogue bandit tom cat. He's been feeding over at our fine dining establisment for outdoor felines- but, apparently has extended his territory to include the neighbor's yards and cats. She was so loudly defending her self and Dad's precious bird feeders (yeah, RIGHT!) when Tuxedo Tom approached and started giving grief. When I heard the commotion, I naturally ran out and chased him off. Thinking that Thelonius would be more than happy with me and not thinking about how ultra-sensitive she can be (even in the best of situations) with being picked up- I thought to pick her up and comfort her and get her in the house. Suffice it so... BIG mistake.
She lit it into me and before I knew had chewed three big holes in both my hands and wasn't about to let go. Have ya heard the saying that they won't get 'til it thunders? ugh... there I was and there she was- and she wasn't letting go and I couldn't get free from her. It hurt so badly I promptly got sick at my stomach. Ugh. Not a good sign.
The nightmare was just beginning. It wasn't but just a few minutes and my hands were swollen and weren't going to quit bleeding anytime soon. With a cat-bite you really don't want to stop the blood- it's better to get it out and hope that some of those bad bacterias they carry flush on out, too. Another added bonus is that the worst time to get cat-bit is directly following a meal- their mouths generate enzymes to better break down their food. Think wild cats and the rodents they feed on. She did avoid piercing a tendon or a joint- so, to be honest- I've had a quick recovery.
After a week long round of antibiotics and keeping my hands elevated above my heart- I'm back to "normal"! Whew! What a relief!
Meoooowwwww! Tuxedo Tom better watch his back-side. I'm going to live-trap him and relocate him somewhere else soon.
The other day, Thelonius (originally brother, Jeff's, cat) was attacked by a rogue bandit tom cat. He's been feeding over at our fine dining establisment for outdoor felines- but, apparently has extended his territory to include the neighbor's yards and cats. She was so loudly defending her self and Dad's precious bird feeders (yeah, RIGHT!) when Tuxedo Tom approached and started giving grief. When I heard the commotion, I naturally ran out and chased him off. Thinking that Thelonius would be more than happy with me and not thinking about how ultra-sensitive she can be (even in the best of situations) with being picked up- I thought to pick her up and comfort her and get her in the house. Suffice it so... BIG mistake.
She lit it into me and before I knew had chewed three big holes in both my hands and wasn't about to let go. Have ya heard the saying that they won't get 'til it thunders? ugh... there I was and there she was- and she wasn't letting go and I couldn't get free from her. It hurt so badly I promptly got sick at my stomach. Ugh. Not a good sign.
The nightmare was just beginning. It wasn't but just a few minutes and my hands were swollen and weren't going to quit bleeding anytime soon. With a cat-bite you really don't want to stop the blood- it's better to get it out and hope that some of those bad bacterias they carry flush on out, too. Another added bonus is that the worst time to get cat-bit is directly following a meal- their mouths generate enzymes to better break down their food. Think wild cats and the rodents they feed on. She did avoid piercing a tendon or a joint- so, to be honest- I've had a quick recovery.
After a week long round of antibiotics and keeping my hands elevated above my heart- I'm back to "normal"! Whew! What a relief!
Meoooowwwww! Tuxedo Tom better watch his back-side. I'm going to live-trap him and relocate him somewhere else soon.
Jody Evans is our Nashville Star!
Well, it's official. Erika Jo won the Nashville Star competition (first female for this title) over the two final contestants Jason and Jody!
No matter! Jody, Jason and Jayron have all got potential singing careers in front of them! As well as a summer tour!
But, Jody Evans is special because he's OURS! For starters... he's got this Elvis (Costello) thing going and is such a self-effacing young talent; even though he's got real talent- he always gives accolades to all the competitors. Just hope he's that way with all of his traffic violators! Yup. He's a policeman!
Which makes us wonder? Will all the folks he pulls over just BEG him for a ticket so that they can have his autograph? Hmm..... wonder if it's worth anything? Hmm.... wonder if I can find one that was written before he was on N/S? No! Not a ticket given to ME!! But, surely... somebody can give up a little scrap of paper? I'll go check eBay.
Yoddle-lah-he-hooooooo... we got us a singing po-leece-mahn.
http://music.yahoo.com/promos/nashvillestar/
http://www.usanetwork.com/nashvillestar/
An interesting piece of historical trivia re: Nashville Star... the first winner was Buddy Jewel with roots from Osceola, AR.
Whoooo-pig-sooooieee!!! Arkansas ROCKS! and... twangs!
No matter! Jody, Jason and Jayron have all got potential singing careers in front of them! As well as a summer tour!
But, Jody Evans is special because he's OURS! For starters... he's got this Elvis (Costello) thing going and is such a self-effacing young talent; even though he's got real talent- he always gives accolades to all the competitors. Just hope he's that way with all of his traffic violators! Yup. He's a policeman!
Which makes us wonder? Will all the folks he pulls over just BEG him for a ticket so that they can have his autograph? Hmm..... wonder if it's worth anything? Hmm.... wonder if I can find one that was written before he was on N/S? No! Not a ticket given to ME!! But, surely... somebody can give up a little scrap of paper? I'll go check eBay.
Yoddle-lah-he-hooooooo... we got us a singing po-leece-mahn.
http://music.yahoo.com/promos/nashvillestar/
http://www.usanetwork.com/nashvillestar/
An interesting piece of historical trivia re: Nashville Star... the first winner was Buddy Jewel with roots from Osceola, AR.
Whoooo-pig-sooooieee!!! Arkansas ROCKS! and... twangs!
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Beam me up, Shorty... and the Bucky Balls.
My grandmother is a hoot.
She's also a very VERY well read woman.
She may be 95 years old-- but, her insatiable apetitie for reading is pretty much legendary. She starts off in the morning with the financial section, then she hits world news and finally the state section. She has subscriptions to Time, Newsweek, Atlantic Monthly, the New Yorker and Smithsonian just to name a few. On top of all that- she reads best sellers on both the fiction and the non-fiction lists AND whatever paperbacks happen to be laying around as well as all the shop at home catalogs that deluge the postal service.
As it so happened a few days ago- she was studying up on new scientific technologies. She's done that before. She knew about fuel-cell techno-geeky stuff LONG before the general masses were aware of it. The REASON she studies all that is for investment purposes.
Anyway, her question early one morning was "What's a Bucky Ball?" A few moments later after a quick internet search- we had the answer for her printed out. Just so you'll know what a Bucky Ball is... it is the roundest and most symmetrical large molecule known to man- something to do with carbon. Read about it here.. http://www.imbris.net/~jfromm/bucky/bucky.htm
Now, having HAD that recent conversation and knowing full-well that she'd not just pulled the topic from thin-air, I figured she'd already read across some information and was actually exposing the rest of us to some new tecnology venture she was fixing to invest in. But-- how many almost centenarians actually KNOW about this type of stuff? I mean-- the kind of women that weren't necessarily in the scientific field in their occupation (she was a history and English teacher) for Pete's sake! But- there it is. The fact is.. my grandmother is quite the know-it-all and has very broad interests.
So, when my mother was going through a box of novels she asked my grandmother if she'd like to read any. Mae promptly started going through and culling the ones she wasn't interested in... they were the science-fiction ones! When I asked why, she replied "I don't want to read any of those Beam Me Up, Shorty" stories!
ONLY my grandmother has such a wonderfully rounded sense of humor and the background to go with it! She should have been a comedian! Hmmm... is it any wonder that my mom and I have to struggle to stay "up to speed" when my grandmother and my father are in their element?
Oh- what fun!
I think I'd like to be beamed over to the house next door now-
Scotty!
She's also a very VERY well read woman.
She may be 95 years old-- but, her insatiable apetitie for reading is pretty much legendary. She starts off in the morning with the financial section, then she hits world news and finally the state section. She has subscriptions to Time, Newsweek, Atlantic Monthly, the New Yorker and Smithsonian just to name a few. On top of all that- she reads best sellers on both the fiction and the non-fiction lists AND whatever paperbacks happen to be laying around as well as all the shop at home catalogs that deluge the postal service.
As it so happened a few days ago- she was studying up on new scientific technologies. She's done that before. She knew about fuel-cell techno-geeky stuff LONG before the general masses were aware of it. The REASON she studies all that is for investment purposes.
Anyway, her question early one morning was "What's a Bucky Ball?" A few moments later after a quick internet search- we had the answer for her printed out. Just so you'll know what a Bucky Ball is... it is the roundest and most symmetrical large molecule known to man- something to do with carbon. Read about it here.. http://www.imbris.net/~jfromm/bucky/bucky.htm
Now, having HAD that recent conversation and knowing full-well that she'd not just pulled the topic from thin-air, I figured she'd already read across some information and was actually exposing the rest of us to some new tecnology venture she was fixing to invest in. But-- how many almost centenarians actually KNOW about this type of stuff? I mean-- the kind of women that weren't necessarily in the scientific field in their occupation (she was a history and English teacher) for Pete's sake! But- there it is. The fact is.. my grandmother is quite the know-it-all and has very broad interests.
So, when my mother was going through a box of novels she asked my grandmother if she'd like to read any. Mae promptly started going through and culling the ones she wasn't interested in... they were the science-fiction ones! When I asked why, she replied "I don't want to read any of those Beam Me Up, Shorty" stories!
ONLY my grandmother has such a wonderfully rounded sense of humor and the background to go with it! She should have been a comedian! Hmmm... is it any wonder that my mom and I have to struggle to stay "up to speed" when my grandmother and my father are in their element?
Oh- what fun!
I think I'd like to be beamed over to the house next door now-
Scotty!
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Alligatoe and other information that's NOT so very useful--
hmm...... now you may just wonder about that word. Kellie and I did- for a moment at least.
Alligatoe. She was originally writting alligatoR and missed the "r" and went for the "e". I liked it immediately. What a charming little mistake. Alligatoe. She thought it sounded like a kid with a speech impediment. Me- I first thought of Allegra for the feet. But, on further reflection-- it could be a lot of things.
Alligatoe.
What if it meant.... a type of reptile with prominent scaley toes.?. turns out. It does.
Alligator is a genus of the Allijator idae family of crocodile -like reptiles. It includes two known species:
American Alligatoe ( Alligatir mississippiensis )
Chinese Alligqtor ( Alligstor sinensis )
Oh, well. What started out as a funny mistyped word- turns out it's for real. Now, had we had this discussion pre-internet age- I'd have never known that. But- who NEEDS or READS all this useless information anyway? Well. I guess that would be me.
Which brings to mind a clever little site that Pop ran across today. The name alone is intriguing.
http://www.sydnassloot.com/
Sydnas Sloot? Sheesh. What a monikor. Wouldn't you HATE having to through life with than name? haha. The joke's on us! Mom figured it out first-- flip it. Hysterical. But- if you're "into" old tools or knowing what Harvard trombonists do with all their free time-- check it out.
Well- enough for now- It's really chilly out- I'm thinking breakfast for supper oughta warm up a cold kitchen.
Alligatoe. She was originally writting alligatoR and missed the "r" and went for the "e". I liked it immediately. What a charming little mistake. Alligatoe. She thought it sounded like a kid with a speech impediment. Me- I first thought of Allegra for the feet. But, on further reflection-- it could be a lot of things.
Alligatoe.
What if it meant.... a type of reptile with prominent scaley toes.?. turns out. It does.
Alligator is a genus of the Allijator idae family of crocodile -like reptiles. It includes two known species:
American Alligatoe ( Alligatir mississippiensis )
Chinese Alligqtor ( Alligstor sinensis )
Oh, well. What started out as a funny mistyped word- turns out it's for real. Now, had we had this discussion pre-internet age- I'd have never known that. But- who NEEDS or READS all this useless information anyway? Well. I guess that would be me.
Which brings to mind a clever little site that Pop ran across today. The name alone is intriguing.
http://www.sydnassloot.com/
Sydnas Sloot? Sheesh. What a monikor. Wouldn't you HATE having to through life with than name? haha. The joke's on us! Mom figured it out first-- flip it. Hysterical. But- if you're "into" old tools or knowing what Harvard trombonists do with all their free time-- check it out.
Well- enough for now- It's really chilly out- I'm thinking breakfast for supper oughta warm up a cold kitchen.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Reflections in a 42 year old mirror
One of the soldiers from our little town died in Iraq.
Even though the young man (and his family) was not known by me- nor very well thought of by DS (suffice it to say- he'd been one of those cliche-type jocks that liked to rough up the small and the weak)... it's still just a DAMN SHAME that one of "our" boys got skanked. Yeah- I know he's not the first. And, he won't be the last.
And... my kid is rethinking his plans of signing with the Navy and going in Marines.
All this has just served to make me do a lot of introspection.
For one- I love my kid. I can pick up the phone and call him just about any time I want. AND.. he doesn't mind. He just talks and carries on with whatever it was I interrupted- and just rattles on or listens to me. Landon's mama will never have that chance again. I'm really sad for her.
Two-- I'm nearing my 43 birthday. yes. Kim and I had to calculate that figure as we both are turning and neither of us remember these tiny details (like how OLD we are) since we passed the big 3-9. Why bother? It wastes too many precious brain cells trying to remember that inconsequential detail. But--- that figure of 43 is like MIDDLE AGE.... which relates back to those lyrics. Which means-- yikes. You know- I'm really probably WAY past middle age- cuz I don't expect to be one of those that lives to the ripe old age of a hundred. And, no- I don't mean that whiney-like. I mean, let's face it- folks with blood issues and living on blood thinners just don't usually make it to centenarian status.
So.... all that having been realized- I look at the death of that young man at 19 (and my own 18 year-old's hopes and aspirations) and think-- the quantity of days given to each individual is such an unknown-- don't waste it.
The article in the paper- describes all the travels this young man had already had- to Australia, to Thailand, Korea, the Philippines and Bali- I realize that in a "worldy" sense- he'd not wasted his life. And, in the patriotic sense- he's given the greatest of all gifts-self. He had experiences that a great many of us middle-agers will never have. And, in only 19 years.
in memorial of Landon Giles • 1985-2005
Even though the young man (and his family) was not known by me- nor very well thought of by DS (suffice it to say- he'd been one of those cliche-type jocks that liked to rough up the small and the weak)... it's still just a DAMN SHAME that one of "our" boys got skanked. Yeah- I know he's not the first. And, he won't be the last.
And... my kid is rethinking his plans of signing with the Navy and going in Marines.
All this has just served to make me do a lot of introspection.
For one- I love my kid. I can pick up the phone and call him just about any time I want. AND.. he doesn't mind. He just talks and carries on with whatever it was I interrupted- and just rattles on or listens to me. Landon's mama will never have that chance again. I'm really sad for her.
Two-- I'm nearing my 43 birthday. yes. Kim and I had to calculate that figure as we both are turning and neither of us remember these tiny details (like how OLD we are) since we passed the big 3-9. Why bother? It wastes too many precious brain cells trying to remember that inconsequential detail. But--- that figure of 43 is like MIDDLE AGE.... which relates back to those lyrics. Which means-- yikes. You know- I'm really probably WAY past middle age- cuz I don't expect to be one of those that lives to the ripe old age of a hundred. And, no- I don't mean that whiney-like. I mean, let's face it- folks with blood issues and living on blood thinners just don't usually make it to centenarian status.
So.... all that having been realized- I look at the death of that young man at 19 (and my own 18 year-old's hopes and aspirations) and think-- the quantity of days given to each individual is such an unknown-- don't waste it.
The article in the paper- describes all the travels this young man had already had- to Australia, to Thailand, Korea, the Philippines and Bali- I realize that in a "worldy" sense- he'd not wasted his life. And, in the patriotic sense- he's given the greatest of all gifts-self. He had experiences that a great many of us middle-agers will never have. And, in only 19 years.
in memorial of Landon Giles • 1985-2005
One Hundred Years
"I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live."
John Ondrasik ~ Five for Fighting ~ One Hundred Years
For some reason these lyrics (and the tune as well) have just been a really bad ear worm today-- I think it's because one of the young men that graduated with DS this last May died in Iraq. He'd been there a week when his vehicle struck a roadside bomb placed there by cowardly evil "religious" minions.
Read about Landon here: http://www.siftingsherald.com/articles/2005/03/02/news/news1.txt
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got a hundred years to live."
John Ondrasik ~ Five for Fighting ~ One Hundred Years
For some reason these lyrics (and the tune as well) have just been a really bad ear worm today-- I think it's because one of the young men that graduated with DS this last May died in Iraq. He'd been there a week when his vehicle struck a roadside bomb placed there by cowardly evil "religious" minions.
Read about Landon here: http://www.siftingsherald.com/articles/2005/03/02/news/news1.txt
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