Scribble and Scrambles - Facebook Nation

Three laptops, three females, a couch and a loveseat in a space of 49 sq ft or so.

And what are we doing? Blogging and facebooking. What time is it?

Eleven p.m.

Time to go act like a mother.

I think I'll send a "Go to bed." instant message to my daughters.

If you are reading this after eleven p.m. you should go to bed, too.

You're welcome.

Serials and Scenarios - Sincerely Mayla - Virginia Smith

My review of Sincerely, Mayla.

Sincerely, Mayla is a sweet novel about inevitable collisions when comfortable, rutted paths intersect with God's roads.

Mayla, a wild child from a previous novel (Just as I am) which I haven't read, has hit her spiritual stride as a spruced-up, redeemed version of herself. But God isn't done with her yet.

Newly relieved of her job, Mayla sets out to fix controllable issues like her love life, and she finds herself detouring to mend some fences that keep her apart from her grandmother in Florida, and then veering into potholes left by friends in crisis. Mayla has the time for an extended trip, but her emotions are a different story and her mini-vacation proves to be quite a trip when all the dust finally settles.

Mayla is a cute escapist read that ends up convicting those readers who have gotten a little too comfortable, or who think they've figured God out and don't really need His hand to be involved in life's microscopic details. Smith tells a fun tale with an engaging voice and equally engaging characters. She manages to cover a whole lot of heavy issues like homosexuality and abortion in this easily navigated novel. A great summer fluff with substance read. You won't need to read Just as I am to appreciate the story, but it may be fun to see just how far Mayla's come.

Click for Virginia Smith 's Dregs interview, click here to visit her website, and on the book cover to visit Amazon.

Scribble and Scrambles - Reality of the Value of a Dollar

This will possibly border on crass. It will definitely be a strange post. Oh wait, I guess most of them are.

When shopping at Target today I discovered something.

A majority of our hard-earned money goes toward things that make waste more aesthetically pleasing. Don't get me wrong, chances are really good that I won't make any major changes in my spending habits, but, well, it's something to ponder at nearly 10 p.m. on a Monday evening.

I spent $30ish at Target. A pair a clearance Capri's cost under $7.00. A bag of cat litter $2.40, chips $4.00, and a large industrial sized package of toilet paper cost $13.00.

What's wrong with this picture? How about $15.00+ for waste management, that's what.

Like I said, there won't be a lot of big changes on the horizon, but life is just like that, eh?

Scribble and Scrambles - Saturday Sugar and Spice

In honor of Mother's Day. I have to share this. It's a PG-13 (violence and off-color comments) but oh, so ha, ha, ha.




And just pure sweet.

Scribble and Scrambles - Freaky - Deaky Friday-Fest

The critters and I want to greet you with a hearty. "Happy Friday." But, the critters generally use non-verbal greetings such as a power jump with paws planted on your chest followed by everyone's favorite wherein eager snouts visit places where the sun doesn't shine and the wind doesn't blow, followed by a juicy kiss upside your do.

Those friendly little furballs would be Lily and Lola, the extroverts. (You can watch just a fraction of what they do when excited by clicking on the box. I will get better footage one day so you can see them in all their glory.)

Now Feral -- the wild one, and Stealth Cat -- aka The Screamer, will either hiss and disappear, stalk your ankles or have a wicked ugly cat fight that will curl your do.

Maybe I should be the only one who wishes you a hearty "Happy Friday."
It should probably be a freestyle poem of the lameish period.

Ode to Friday

Friday, Friday. You of short hours and lightning speed minutes.

Though the sky be drear and gray,
The sun of hope and expectations
Rises in the breast of all who work in cubicles.

I've heard it said that Friday
Just doesn't do it for weekend workers...
But should I care?
Melancholy, tortured artiste that I am?

Shall I abuse Friday,
Mayhap name a restaurant after it,
A disco, or a song?
Scoff.

Fri, fri, fri, what does fri mean?
Is that where fish on Fryday originated?
Fri, fri, free...freeday?
Yes, that must be the origin of this beautiful word.
Wallace didn't yell freedom.
No, he was calling for Freeday. It's on film.

May the sun shine upon you on the morrow, but only after you've gotten your beauty slumber.
May Saturday drag slowly, seeming endless, unless you have an awful list of chores.
May Monday delay.
Enjoy Friday.

Scribble and Scrambles - Twisted Thursday Thoughts - Ow

So what does one wax eloquent about on a deliciously sunshiny and mild Thursday? Let me strain my brain.

I'll answer Xta's and Kim's comments. Xta = : ) Oh, I'm reading, Kim. Just not promoting anything. I'm reading in my car (while waiting, not driving, of course) before bed, between chores, while pup-sitting.

Actually, I couldn't swing a cat by the tail without hitting a book in progress. Note: PETA supporters, I would never swing a cat by the tail, especially mine. Three words. Teeth, claws, revenge. Which reminds me of one of my all time favorite jokes. The book title and author jokes like Yellow River by I.P. Freely.

My favorite is slightly off-color in the traditional wording. So I'm going to leave it to your imaginations.

Book Title: Cat's Revenge
Author: Claude (pick your poison...think body part or heck, go for furniture).

I did compose and enter the following poem at Chip MacGregor's annual bad poem contest. He probably won't pick it because I did go with the birthday theme and this puts me in the majority.

But, I think it's really awful and I did mention two things he really liked last year. A moose and puppies in dangerous situations. I left out his favorite lines though.
love, love, love
love, love
love, love, love.


Chip, it's your birthday, it's your birthday.
So dawg, consider this yo b-day rappin poem.

Dude, sweet b-day wishes, as you eat you cake.
Doncha worry bout no carbohydrate
Doncha cry about puppies on da loose
not about the contracts or Alaskan moose
Just put you feet up and take a breath
Life's just that until it's death.


See the other really great contenders here Bad Poem Contest and it's not to late if you want to try to beat me.

Scribble and Scrambles - Waffling Wednesday

I'm not promoting a single book this week.

No reviews, no interviews. And since I started the whole Monday thing, I might as well see this through.

Tonight's theme -- prayer meeting highlights.

One of our youth has created a virtual pastor, our pastor, on some little hand-held gaming device. Even has the goatee. Pretty sweet.

A NEST of spiders has taken over a fake ficus tree and spun a bridge to a music stand. Fortunately, the decorating deaconess found this nest (after brushing her hair against it) (ha,ha...in sisterly love, of course) and two big, strong elders came to the rescue. One big, strong elder was no less than my handsome, spider-eradicating husband. He was even dressed for the part. He didn't have time to "change hats" before coming to church so he was decked in his sleeveless t-shirt. Upon his entrance into prayer meeting our 21-year-old wiseacre daughter said. "Dad, put those guns away."

(I have no idea where this child got her lip. )

If you couldn't tell, we're a fairly casual group on Wednesday evenings.

While the spider hunt was going on, I had a conversation involving Belgium Waffles.

Yes, we did get praying done, thank you very much.

Thursday is lurking and you know what comes after it. Hang in there...