Scribbles and Scrambles - Bad Idea

At the time, it seemed harmless. The kids would love it, and boy, would we have fun performing our routine.

Four days later I could laugh. Okay, maybe three. Wait, I did laugh manically while scrubbing my head the hundredth time.

Let me back up and start from the beginning.

Being the fun loving teacher I am, and having a helper who is almost as twisted as me (note – bad idea if you are prone to stupid moves.) I decided to put Vaseline in my hair.

Why? Because our 5th and 6th graders were assigned reports on different sports and we wanted to participate, and full of “Go USA” spirit we chose synchronized swimming.

Landlocked at the time, we opted not to use water and swimsuits. Instead we attempted to create realism with some authentic similarities. Interestingly, time was an issue, so the widely used Knox gelatin idea was nixed and we went with the older way to keep the swimmer’s hair in place. Vaseline.

Shirlee and I practiced our routine. It was nearly flawless. For two klutzes, that is. She whipped out the jar of Vaseline …………………. to be continued.

Snippets and Soundbites - Dyer County

A writing buddy of mine sheltered a family this fall that had been displaced by Katrina.

Now, my friend sees the devastation of a tornado that ripped through her backyard. She shares her feelings, below.

"We feel a bit frustrated seeing so much devastation and not knowing what we can do to help. We pray and do little things as we can, but need direction for more. In the meantime, life goes on, and it is odd to ride down the road and see life continuing as usual. Kind of like how when someone close to you dies and you expect the world to stop, but it doesn't, and it makes you a little mad. But then, what else can you do? When you walk the aisles at Walmart and look into eyes of strangers, it seems everyone is thinking the same thing -- you were spared; you're still alive."

Pray for Dyer County.

Though an entire family was saved by a split second decision, many others lost their lives or family members or homes.
Another friend is in Mississippi helping with the continued clean-up from Katrina.

She writes, "When you drive into town at first it doesn't seem so bad til you look a little harder and see that every single building that hasn't yet been rebuilt is completely gutted on the inside by water. Then when you drive toward the beach and the waterway it gets worse, there are whole neighborhoods that are just completely gone, literally leveled except for trees and foundations. There are still dead animals on the beach because no one has had time to clean them up."

These little slivers of life are humbling. Sometimes I get so caught up in my life I can't see beyond my back fence. There's a huge world out there, much closer than we realize.

Hope your day is filled with blessings and truth.

Scribbles and Scrambles - Cat Attack

Cat Attack

Our cat was laid back. Not as much as the Peanuts cartoon cat with no bones, but pretty close.

One summer we dubbed her “Roadkill Bob” because she’d spread eagle out on the brick patio as flat as her hugely pregnant body would allow.

My beastly brother discovered he could pet her any direction and she’d come back for more (she was a little attention seeking and he was just naughty). One hot day he mined the limitations of her patience. Back combing with wet hands was not her cup of tea.

He lived through, “When cats attack…,” before the advent of reality television. I don’t recommend trying this at home.

Roadkill Bob chased Matt a very long way that afternoon.

He sustained a few scratches in his dignity.

Oh wait, no the dignity was never in danger. He cackled as he ran and a new stupid person trick was born.

Yes, Bob always ended up making her feelings known about back-combing.

Some people love to rub others the wrong way, too.

Not that I know this by experience.

I refer to them as human sandpaper. Usually fine grit, kind of the equivalent to a dripping faucet at midnight.

Sometimes they behave the way they do because they love to see you react like Roadkill Bob.

Just a dreg to ponder…

Scribbles and Scrambles - Flying Pat

Flying Pat

My family has Dad legends.

Oh, the stories we have. To this day, I don’t parallel park. And my in-laws wear wide-eyed looks of shock when our families get together.

I don’t know if I can do the stories justice, and I know I can’t pick my favorite one. So I’ll share one every once in awhile and call them Pats.

Today I’ll share the Flying Pat, not to be confused with the Flying Dutchman.

My younger brother tried every trick and adventure known to rural Iowa youths in the seventies. Occasionally, he crossed a line, and my dad, like most of the dads in that generation, responded (you know, the ones who could freeze a child’s blood with “the look.”)


The rule infraction has been forgotten but the Flying Pat lives on in legend. The brother got busted, received the look and froze but somehow got his eyes free and made a heroic escape attempt.

He scrambled up and over a five foot stock gate and hit the ground running.

Dad, in six-million dollar man style, took off after him. It was beautiful to watch. Olympic style scoring would have been 9.9’s across the board even from ‘doesn’t play well with others’ countries. He soared into the blue and leapt over the fence. And landed on my brother.

Sweet.

Wishing you a free flying, soft landing kind of day.

Once In a Lifetime....

On Wednesday, at two minutes and three seconds after 1:00 in the morning, the time and date will be 01:02:03 04/05/06.

That won't ever happen again.

And I'm pretty sure I won't be awake to see it....but cool nonetheless.

Thank you for scouting out this very interesting dreg, Michelle.

Scribbles and Scrambles - Personality

Writers often seem to be melancholy personalities.
With great art comes great angst, right?

Those of us who produce things that can't be called great are maybe the ones who also define angst as a snagged fingernail or an annoying friend problem.

I do have annoying friend problems, but rarely lose sleep while I write epic novels dredged from the feelings inspired by said problems.

I also rate low on the fingernail obsessiveness chart.
A fingernail snag is easily remedied by a) teeth or b) jeans.
Seriously – denim works as a fingernail file in a pinch.
Wonder what fingernail chewing says about me? I don't chew them every day. Just at the perfect ripeness.

Here's a site to take a on-line personality test. http://oneishy.com/personality/

I am currently Choleric – 8 strengths – Phlegmatic – 8 weaknesses. I’m sure housekeeping and fingernail care would fall under weaknesses.

Is it a bad thing if my test results have changed dramatically from the first time I took it four months ago?
I used to be melancholy.
Guess I’ve been having a better week.
Hope yours is great as well.

Welcome to Scrambled Dregs....

I tend to see things from different angles while marching to the drumbeat of a different drummer. This is sometimes of benefit and often frightening.

The name Scrambled Dregs was suggested by a writing critique partner. Dregs are the little brown flecks of coffee that sometimes make their way into the pot. One might think this is a negative comment on my personality and my thought process.

Not me, because I am a optimist in the order of Pollyanna. Dregs with a twist of optimism -- almost as good as a double mocha latte.

Various dregs will appear on this blog. Some profound -- when I quote others --some silly-- when I babble.

The categories:
Snippets and Sound Bites
Scribbles and Scrambles
Scary and Sensational
Serials and Scenarios

The topics will be near and dear to me; life, faith and writing.

I hope you'll join me, and I hope you'll benefit from what my friends and I have to say.