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.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Scribble and Scrambles ~ So Random You Might Not Even Want to Go There.
In keeping with the non-traditional random dictionary game EER has inspired at the Dregs I introduce the word...
drum roll (This is a low-budget site, kids, you expected the real deal?)
Pictact - noun/adjective - origin old norse. definition a) Viking tool resembling the modern pick axe. The difference in modern and predecessor tools was the two tusk-like appendages on either side of the axe head that were used to carve decorative "tattoos" on the side of the long boats and to easily disembowel those who got in their way during raids. b) enthusiastic slang used to encourage Viking boat hewers during the annual boat building/village destruction/ looting seminars know as the Pic and Kicks.
Okay. Lame? Blame it on the totally deteriorated condition of my gray matter.
If the definition is not enough to entertain you. Let me share a few random and bizarre sights around Iowa this week.
#1 Horrific sight. A semi turning left in one of two parallel left turning lanes. This is not in itself a concern. The fact that the driver was on his cell phone during the turn is though. SERIOUSLY. Put the stupid phone down. Could any conversation be THAT important?
#2 Strangest sight. In the bathroom stall next to me a bare foot. Completely bare. The other foot was fully clothed. In the public restroom. In November. ?
#3 Most annoying drama. All of it. Me no like drama.
#4 Most annoying behavior in someone close to me. Mine. This Martha Stewart thing is out of control. After making/baking ten items for 16 women for a 24 hour retreat I wonder why I am compelled to tweak, change and remake a recipe until it is all mine. And this is while I'm reading self-help and spiritual maturity books for review ("Oh, was I supposed to actually absorb the truth in that chapter?"). On the bright side of the little Martha ordeal is that everything tastes fabulous. Really. And the recipes that have been stretched, tweaked and rewritten are usable. I think I can leave those particular ones alone now. YAY.
That's all. If I don't stop now I'm going to fall asleep on my keyboard and either accidentally type something offensive with my bobbing and weaving face or I'm going to drool on the keyboard and electrocute myself.
Happy weekend. I'm going to enjoy it and relax if it kills me. And it might.