Happy Monday.
Today you have to “listen” to seven weird things about me. Like you haven’t figured out at least seven weird things from what I’ve already posted.
I’ve been “Weird Meme’d” Thanks, Heather. You can reach Heather at http://heathersfunnythoughts.blogspot.com/ should you decide to complain about having to WAIT ONE MORE DAY for the gleaned wisdom from “while I was greasy.”
7. I once believed that the “powers that be” voted to change east and west so that the sun rose in the west and set in the east. My defense – I was 15, it was 4:45 a.m. and the cutest boy in the whole world lied to me. And I still married him!
6. The above little moment of gullibility lasted a fairly long time – like a couple of months. Hey, I was young, in love and it was stinking early.
5. I can pick up things with my toes. Yes, it’s true. I once gathered loose papers, shuffled them and stapled them together – with my toes. (No the toes were NOT stapled to the papers.)
4. I once cracked my collar bone by landing really hard on my rear end. (Oooh, that’s a good story, I’ll have to share it some time.)
3. My first book was self-published. I was five at the time. The title – Lousy, the Cat – written about my cat - Lucy. Spelling was not a strength.
2. Speaking of Kindergarten…. The lovely place where I discovered that yellow was not pronounced “wello”.
1. Speaking of spelling. College level “Spelling and Proofreading” made me a worse speller.
There you have it… I guess I’m supposed to plague others with the “Weird Meme Virus.” I plan to be very selective. Hmmmm...
Monday, April 17, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Scary and Sensational - Sonrise
What was it like on a Friday in Jerusalem almost 2,000 years ago?
Did the scent of budding and blooming life mingle with the metallic tang of His blood?
Was the air filled with the songs of birds before the darkness enveloped the city?
Ironic - the Creator allowed His creation to use His raw materials to crucify Him.
He stayed on the cross, held by puny metal nails.
Did the angels hover by the throne of the Almighty, begging with their eyes, hoping for a sign or a word that would release them to help Him?
The earth quaked.
Did the doves mourn?
What was it like for the Light of the world to have been cut off from the blinding Light of His Father's face?
The source of Life's life slowly, painfully ebbed away with each pump of His strangled heart.
The Wonderful Counselor was alone. No one to share His grief, or hold His head or hand and whisper, "there, there."
He did this for a small handful of worthless creatures who would choose to love Him.
He died my death, that day on the cross.
Then came Sunday morning.........and the rising of the Son.
He called me out of the darkness, and calls me His bride.
Maranatha.
Did the scent of budding and blooming life mingle with the metallic tang of His blood?
Was the air filled with the songs of birds before the darkness enveloped the city?
Ironic - the Creator allowed His creation to use His raw materials to crucify Him.
He stayed on the cross, held by puny metal nails.
Did the angels hover by the throne of the Almighty, begging with their eyes, hoping for a sign or a word that would release them to help Him?
The earth quaked.
Did the doves mourn?
What was it like for the Light of the world to have been cut off from the blinding Light of His Father's face?
The source of Life's life slowly, painfully ebbed away with each pump of His strangled heart.
The Wonderful Counselor was alone. No one to share His grief, or hold His head or hand and whisper, "there, there."
He did this for a small handful of worthless creatures who would choose to love Him.
He died my death, that day on the cross.
Then came Sunday morning.........and the rising of the Son.
He called me out of the darkness, and calls me His bride.
Maranatha.
Scribbles and Scrambles - Bad Idea - Part 4
Not only did I have to go to work on Slick Thursday, but I had two other must-dos. My writing support group meeting and a trip to the mall to pick up my daughter's engraved graduation locket couldn't be missed.
I pulled my greasy Medusa locks into a messy ponytail. Copped a little swagger, and projected the "I meant to do that" attitude and I hurried to the jewelry store.
I don't know if it was the glare from the overheads that caught everyone's eye, or if it was the eau du salad wafting behind me, but I pretty much had everyone's attention. Did I mention that I had begun rinsing with vinegar after each futile shampoo post cornstarch dump?
With my prized locket clutched in my hand, I hurried to the car and braced myself for one last frontier.
We meet in the coffee shop of a large Christian bookstore. Had this Vaseline incident happened today, I'd share it with the group and we'd have a good laugh, and talk about the stories that could come out of it.
But this particular meeting was only my fourth, ever. Published, intimidating authors populated the group.
I arrived fashionably late and slide into an open chair. All eyes fastened on me. I froze and eked out a tiny princess wave.
No one asked, though subtle sniffs seemed to come from my writer friends as they walked past my chair. And I caught many odd glances, but I didn't say a word.
Survival strengthened me.
On Friday, my locks still squirmed like Medusa's on a bad hair day. Shirlee breezed in with a perfect coif and a giggle. I hummed "I Will Survive."
By Sunday, the surface of my hair was dry to the touch. A week later it shone and luxuriated around my shoulders.
The benefits lasted about two days, then I had to pay for the harsh treatment.
Come back next week and I'll share what I learned while I was greasy.
I pulled my greasy Medusa locks into a messy ponytail. Copped a little swagger, and projected the "I meant to do that" attitude and I hurried to the jewelry store.
I don't know if it was the glare from the overheads that caught everyone's eye, or if it was the eau du salad wafting behind me, but I pretty much had everyone's attention. Did I mention that I had begun rinsing with vinegar after each futile shampoo post cornstarch dump?
With my prized locket clutched in my hand, I hurried to the car and braced myself for one last frontier.
We meet in the coffee shop of a large Christian bookstore. Had this Vaseline incident happened today, I'd share it with the group and we'd have a good laugh, and talk about the stories that could come out of it.
But this particular meeting was only my fourth, ever. Published, intimidating authors populated the group.
I arrived fashionably late and slide into an open chair. All eyes fastened on me. I froze and eked out a tiny princess wave.
No one asked, though subtle sniffs seemed to come from my writer friends as they walked past my chair. And I caught many odd glances, but I didn't say a word.
Survival strengthened me.
On Friday, my locks still squirmed like Medusa's on a bad hair day. Shirlee breezed in with a perfect coif and a giggle. I hummed "I Will Survive."
By Sunday, the surface of my hair was dry to the touch. A week later it shone and luxuriated around my shoulders.
The benefits lasted about two days, then I had to pay for the harsh treatment.
Come back next week and I'll share what I learned while I was greasy.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Scribbles and Scrambles – Bad Idea – Part 3
After my shower and approximately six lather/rinse/repeat cycles later, I stared into the mirror. All alone and with loads of hindsight, the activities of the evening seemed slightly less fun and slightly more foolish. I plopped my hat on my head, which was as greasy as it had been prior to using half a bottle of shampoo.
Maybe the body heat or the hat would leech the petroleum from my hair. Yeah. Sure.
I slept. A dreamless, restless never-want-to-see-daylight-again kind of sleep.
No fairy or angelic visitations in the night. No lovely people from one of those wonderful organizations that clean up oil drenched helpless animals after oceanic oil spills came to my rescue either.
When I woke, I slid the hat from my head and touched it. Songs of self-pity played in my mind as I trudged to the bathroom. “nobody likes me….blah, blah, I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
It didn’t matter that I wasn’t in Jr. High anymore, nope, there was just enough teen spirit in my office to guarantee that all would get a charge out of this.
I scrubbed yet again; three times just on the outside chance, got dressed without looking into a mirror, and headed to work.
I fooled them the first couple of hours. But about ten o’clock co-workers began wondering out loud why my hair still looked dripping wet. I told a few of the more sympathetic ones. Then Shirlee called in and inquired about my hair. The laughter rang through the office.
One of the doctors took pity on me. He Googled Vaseline and hair and came up with a sure-fire cure. Cornstarch. Hope!
At first I was leery. After all, this same doctor was prone to pranking. But I Googled too, and behold, there it was. I rushed home, grabbed the box of cornstarch and ran to the bathroom. Whoosh! Instant powdered wig, hardening into a hairstyle that rivaled any big hair ever to parade across a television screen.
Yes, more tomorrow.
Maybe the body heat or the hat would leech the petroleum from my hair. Yeah. Sure.
I slept. A dreamless, restless never-want-to-see-daylight-again kind of sleep.
No fairy or angelic visitations in the night. No lovely people from one of those wonderful organizations that clean up oil drenched helpless animals after oceanic oil spills came to my rescue either.
When I woke, I slid the hat from my head and touched it. Songs of self-pity played in my mind as I trudged to the bathroom. “nobody likes me….blah, blah, I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
It didn’t matter that I wasn’t in Jr. High anymore, nope, there was just enough teen spirit in my office to guarantee that all would get a charge out of this.
I scrubbed yet again; three times just on the outside chance, got dressed without looking into a mirror, and headed to work.
I fooled them the first couple of hours. But about ten o’clock co-workers began wondering out loud why my hair still looked dripping wet. I told a few of the more sympathetic ones. Then Shirlee called in and inquired about my hair. The laughter rang through the office.
One of the doctors took pity on me. He Googled Vaseline and hair and came up with a sure-fire cure. Cornstarch. Hope!
At first I was leery. After all, this same doctor was prone to pranking. But I Googled too, and behold, there it was. I rushed home, grabbed the box of cornstarch and ran to the bathroom. Whoosh! Instant powdered wig, hardening into a hairstyle that rivaled any big hair ever to parade across a television screen.
Yes, more tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Scribbles and Scrambles – Bad Idea – Part 2
Location: 5th and 6th grade Wednesday evening Pioneer Clubs.
Shirlee and I are ready to make synchronized swimming history. I mentioned yesterday that we had pooh-poohed the water/swimsuit thing, and the standard Knox gelatin hair control. Instead we would perform our routine clothed, dry, and with Vaseline sculpted hair.
Nervous, as most athletes before a big event, Shirlee and I paced the room. We had the full attention of the kids while we explained a bit about the history of synchronized swimming.
Then it was time to perform.
Shirlee grabbed the container of Vaseline and smeared a glob into her hair. You could hear a pin drop. She held it out to me. I scooped and swirled.
Did I mention that my hair is longer than Shirlee’s? Or coarser and curly?
Within a minute, tops, Shirlee had an excellent greased upsweep, while I had wrestled my mane into a rope-like chunk of hairy goo. I should have known. Shirlee took pity on me, scooped out more Vaseline and coaxed a Who-like do.
We performed our routine with a forced encore (they didn’t ask for it, we made them sit through the slow-motion replay). A smattering of applause, lots of laughter, whew it was a success. I slapped a hat on my head.
Visions of nicely conditioned hair bounced through my brain while I planned on a quick wash out at 9:15 p.m.
Did I mention that Shirlee and I work together and that she had Thursday off?
Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story……
Shirlee and I are ready to make synchronized swimming history. I mentioned yesterday that we had pooh-poohed the water/swimsuit thing, and the standard Knox gelatin hair control. Instead we would perform our routine clothed, dry, and with Vaseline sculpted hair.
Nervous, as most athletes before a big event, Shirlee and I paced the room. We had the full attention of the kids while we explained a bit about the history of synchronized swimming.
Then it was time to perform.
Shirlee grabbed the container of Vaseline and smeared a glob into her hair. You could hear a pin drop. She held it out to me. I scooped and swirled.
Did I mention that my hair is longer than Shirlee’s? Or coarser and curly?
Within a minute, tops, Shirlee had an excellent greased upsweep, while I had wrestled my mane into a rope-like chunk of hairy goo. I should have known. Shirlee took pity on me, scooped out more Vaseline and coaxed a Who-like do.
We performed our routine with a forced encore (they didn’t ask for it, we made them sit through the slow-motion replay). A smattering of applause, lots of laughter, whew it was a success. I slapped a hat on my head.
Visions of nicely conditioned hair bounced through my brain while I planned on a quick wash out at 9:15 p.m.
Did I mention that Shirlee and I work together and that she had Thursday off?
Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story……
Monday, April 10, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, April 07, 2006
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.
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.
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