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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Scribbles and Scrambles - Oh Fabio-ulous

Sometimes situations get out of hand. Simple little oops and comments get blown into gigantic proportions and then they are committed to memories of those who like to remind you of the time…

A simple typo can turn a professional sounding typed minutes into… well…inappropriately amusing. Such as was just pointed out to me – the keeper and typer of the minutes -- after I dispensed the copies to the proper parties.

This underscores the importance of proofreading and editing because spell check doesn’t have issues with those of us who add another “s” to as.

One Christmas during our Christmas celebration at church a young lady read an engaging story. She did a great job until she misread shiny axes. Oh yes. Every Christmas since, some twisted individual has to mention shiny a - - es.

Another such situation arrived on my doorstep last Wednesday.

A couple of years ago I wanted to cheer someone up. So I wrote a little story.

The story required a bronzed and muscled hero to come to the aid of a diminished damsel. What does one call a hero in a humorized version of a white knight tale? Why, Fabio, of course. I suppose this name is copyrighted but at the time this little ha-ha moment wasn’t for mass consumption, just for a friend who needed chocolate and had already gone through all she had in the house. E-mail was her only hope of sanity. I had to work fast.

Since then, said friend asks for a Fabio installment whenever disaster strikes. She’s a writer. Can you imagine how often she faces serious rejection? Yeah. Our story is ten plus chapters and gets pretty complex at times. We’ve covered conferences, jealousy, Raoul the agent, rejection, rejection and rejection.

Said friend came to visit Wednesday. We heard a knock on the door and went to answer it. There, on the porch, a life-size, shirtless, smiled a sweaty cardboard Fabio in all his glory. A chorus of giggles came from the side of the house.

What would you do with a life-size sweaty Fabio?

He’s been on a few field trips this week.

Though not sturdy enough to hold clothes he does come in handy while beading necklaces and bracelets. We’ve christened a new family member Fabio Jr or Mini-Fabio. Twice he has startled a few half-asleep visitors. But now he just stands guard.

We do have a softball game tomorrow night. He’d probably make a great umpire.

6 comments:

MG said...

Dang, you attract some sick and twisted friends... which is exactly why I never read your blog. Ever.

Kelly Klepfer said...

Such passion, MG.

Methinks thou protesteth too much.

Perchance?

Could it be a touch of Fab-withdrawl?

Kristi Herbranson said...

Sounds like you had a wild weekend!

So tell me, Kelly, why didn't you bring your new friend to church?!
I suppose you think a few too many people would cross their arms and wear a scowl? I guess that's understandable.

But maybe you could bring him to my house instead.

Kelly Klepfer said...

Well, three of my friends left on Saturday. And Fabio did have a busy week.

And, just for the record, he did go visiting at last Wednesday's after church party and he startled a few damsels there. hee,hee,hee.

He may go to the picnic tomorrow - scowls or no scowls.

Kelly Klepfer said...

Bruner wouldn't like him. Nor would David. Fabio, even in cardboard, casts quite a spell.

Ha.

Anonymous said...

The funniest part of the Fabio thing was listening to her hubby and the famous Pat as they dised Fabio, laughing at his soft hands and hair. The worst dig had to be the "Who wears black boots with buckskin pants?" attack. Brutal.