My cat Deadline has a serious crush on Don Juan, the chihuahua. She grooms him regularly, and Don Juan basks in the attention.
Seriously.
He's big pimpin'.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I belong in a petri dish
I think I have created the super-germ.
The hacking, sniffling, fever, shivering, wheezing, snotting cold is just about to overcome me. I now can't imagine life without a kleenex and an antibiotic schedule.
I think it has gone away, and dang-it if it has hung around for another day. Maybe I need an exorcism.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Do they put Benadryl in the food?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
What do you mean you haven't read James and the Giant Peach?
As a child, I loved books. My mother taught me to read before I started school just from reading the same books to me over and over and over. It stuck, and now I can't imagine what my life would be without books!
I have taken my 11-year-old nephew to the book store several times, and I have purchased appropriate reading material for him. However, he has yet to read any of the great classics I purchased, and he insists on reading some book about whimpy kids. Oh, why?
Recently, I visited one of the public school libraries, and I asked the librarian what the kids were reading today. She explained that the kids like "movie books." I really have no idea what those are, but she did tell me that Beverly Cleary wasn't popular anymore. WHAT????
The first book I can remember being read is Chicken Little by my Aunt Pete.
My very first best friend, Aunt Pete was in her 80s when I was born, and she babysat me while mother was running errands or picking up my sisters from school. Chicken Little was the only children's book she owned, and so we read it every single day. I remember telling Aunt Pete that she looked like Henny Penny.
My love for Beverly Cleary's Ramona series came next. I read them all! Actually, I was a little like Ramona.
Then there was Charlotte's Web. I read this book so much, the cover eventually fell apart, and even though I knew what would happen, I cried every time.
The book drew me in. I grew up on a farm, and my grandfather had several pigs for a while. Eventually, after slaughtering Old Ulysses, the last pig, my sister and I made a playhouse out of the old pig pen. We used a can of Lysol a day to stand the smell.
Eventually, we moved our club to the hayloft.
I also loved all the Judy Bloom books except for the dirty ones. Momma made me wait to read several of her books until I was old enough. However, Superfudge is still my favorite.
In the second grade, I attempted to read Little Women, and I actually finished it. I did a book report on it, and my teacher (also my dad's sister) was so impressed that I read at such a high level. It's surprising I could get my big ol' head on the school bus after all the accolades.
Of course, I spent so much time in the dictionary looking up all of those wonderful Victorian words, I couldn't appreciate it like I should. I love the Victorian innocence of it all.
My fourth grade teacher read my class James and the Giant Peach. It is still one of my favorite books. I have a copy of it in my study next to the collected plays of Tennessee Williams.
Sometimes, I will flip through that book and think to myself, "Ronald Dahl was brilliant. What an imagination! If only I could be that creative." Then I will feel sorry for myself and pout for a while.
Eventually, I found Anne of Green Gables. Sigh. What a beautiful story.
I will admit that Anne was a bit sensitive, and her absolute rudeness to Gilbert Blythe would have gotten me punished. However, even today when I read it, I wring my hands with anticipation for Anne to finally discover her feelings for Gilbert.
I have taken my 11-year-old nephew to the book store several times, and I have purchased appropriate reading material for him. However, he has yet to read any of the great classics I purchased, and he insists on reading some book about whimpy kids. Oh, why?
Recently, I visited one of the public school libraries, and I asked the librarian what the kids were reading today. She explained that the kids like "movie books." I really have no idea what those are, but she did tell me that Beverly Cleary wasn't popular anymore. WHAT????
The first book I can remember being read is Chicken Little by my Aunt Pete.
My very first best friend, Aunt Pete was in her 80s when I was born, and she babysat me while mother was running errands or picking up my sisters from school. Chicken Little was the only children's book she owned, and so we read it every single day. I remember telling Aunt Pete that she looked like Henny Penny.
My love for Beverly Cleary's Ramona series came next. I read them all! Actually, I was a little like Ramona.
Then there was Charlotte's Web. I read this book so much, the cover eventually fell apart, and even though I knew what would happen, I cried every time.
The book drew me in. I grew up on a farm, and my grandfather had several pigs for a while. Eventually, after slaughtering Old Ulysses, the last pig, my sister and I made a playhouse out of the old pig pen. We used a can of Lysol a day to stand the smell.
Eventually, we moved our club to the hayloft.
I also loved all the Judy Bloom books except for the dirty ones. Momma made me wait to read several of her books until I was old enough. However, Superfudge is still my favorite.
In the second grade, I attempted to read Little Women, and I actually finished it. I did a book report on it, and my teacher (also my dad's sister) was so impressed that I read at such a high level. It's surprising I could get my big ol' head on the school bus after all the accolades.
Of course, I spent so much time in the dictionary looking up all of those wonderful Victorian words, I couldn't appreciate it like I should. I love the Victorian innocence of it all.
My fourth grade teacher read my class James and the Giant Peach. It is still one of my favorite books. I have a copy of it in my study next to the collected plays of Tennessee Williams.
Sometimes, I will flip through that book and think to myself, "Ronald Dahl was brilliant. What an imagination! If only I could be that creative." Then I will feel sorry for myself and pout for a while.
Eventually, I found Anne of Green Gables. Sigh. What a beautiful story.
I will admit that Anne was a bit sensitive, and her absolute rudeness to Gilbert Blythe would have gotten me punished. However, even today when I read it, I wring my hands with anticipation for Anne to finally discover her feelings for Gilbert.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I'm best on a deadline
If you're bored with life -- you don't get up every morning with a burning desire to do things -- you don't have enough goals. ~Lou Holtz
I've been a little preoccupied lately. Sometimes my work takes control of me -- mind, body, and soul. However, every few months or so, I reassess my priorities.
So in the spirit of setting goals for myself -- personal not professional -- here is what I've come up with.... (okay they are small and insignificant and even silly to some, but every little bit helps...wishing to save the world or end hunger just isn't feasible for one person to do.)
1. Make my bed every day. I just got new bedding made and my bed is luxurious and beautiful. Of course, it's not so beautiful with all of the handmade pillows thrown on my rocking chair.
2. Establish a monthly game night. Saturday night, my significant other and I played games with my sister and nephew. There was just the four of us, and we have the best time. I'm am competitive as hell, and game night turns me into a maniac. I love it!
3. Go to bed by 10 p.m. This is the hardest goal I will have to meet. I'm not a good sleeper, and I am a notorious night owl. However, when I go to bed early, the mornings don't seem as bad. It will also help me keep goal #1.
4. Write and read a little bit more. I read and write all day, every day. When I get home, my brain is like cottage cheese. I end up staring comatose-like at the television all night. I'm not thinking that is the best way to spend my time. Just a thought.
5. Do one thing for myself every week. I can go to the book store, get a manicure, buy a new outfit, whatever. But I have to do it once a week, every week.
Any other suggestions for my re-prioritizing?
I've been a little preoccupied lately. Sometimes my work takes control of me -- mind, body, and soul. However, every few months or so, I reassess my priorities.
So in the spirit of setting goals for myself -- personal not professional -- here is what I've come up with.... (okay they are small and insignificant and even silly to some, but every little bit helps...wishing to save the world or end hunger just isn't feasible for one person to do.)
1. Make my bed every day. I just got new bedding made and my bed is luxurious and beautiful. Of course, it's not so beautiful with all of the handmade pillows thrown on my rocking chair.
2. Establish a monthly game night. Saturday night, my significant other and I played games with my sister and nephew. There was just the four of us, and we have the best time. I'm am competitive as hell, and game night turns me into a maniac. I love it!
3. Go to bed by 10 p.m. This is the hardest goal I will have to meet. I'm not a good sleeper, and I am a notorious night owl. However, when I go to bed early, the mornings don't seem as bad. It will also help me keep goal #1.
4. Write and read a little bit more. I read and write all day, every day. When I get home, my brain is like cottage cheese. I end up staring comatose-like at the television all night. I'm not thinking that is the best way to spend my time. Just a thought.
5. Do one thing for myself every week. I can go to the book store, get a manicure, buy a new outfit, whatever. But I have to do it once a week, every week.
Any other suggestions for my re-prioritizing?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Not all moonlight and magnolia
This year marks the 50th anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. It is one of my favorite books of all time, illustrating the period prior to the Civil Rights era, a sad time in Southern history. Lee's work is a progressive piece of literature for its time -- promoting equality, humility, and human kindness.
If you have never read the book, go get it now. No education is complete without reading To Kill a Mockingbird.
Currently, I am reading another book set in the time of the Civil Rights era, and it is remarkable. Rarely do I suggest a book that I have yet to complete, but The Help by Kathryn Stockett is fantastic. Hopefully, I will finish it tonight.
Staying up until nearly midnight again last night reading, it is literally one that you can't put down.
If you have never read the book, go get it now. No education is complete without reading To Kill a Mockingbird.
Currently, I am reading another book set in the time of the Civil Rights era, and it is remarkable. Rarely do I suggest a book that I have yet to complete, but The Help by Kathryn Stockett is fantastic. Hopefully, I will finish it tonight.
Staying up until nearly midnight again last night reading, it is literally one that you can't put down.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Happy Mother's Day
My favorite mothers....
My momma in all her glory -- out in the yard, yelling at the dog. Ahhhh, memories. Trust me, her bark is worse than her bite. There has never been a sweeter woman in the world.
The ultimate mother....my grandmother. Thelma Sexton was known as "Mother" to the entire community, and for good reason. The ultimate matriarch, Mother was stern, all-knowing, and not afraid to speak her mind. Mother was more than just a grandmother, she was our friend.
The ultimate hugger -- my memommy, Evelyn Yelverton. (No photo because blogger is acting stupid, and it won't let me upload.) Memommy smelled like White Shoulders and pastries. She was that grandmother who would yell at Momma if she punished us in any way. And, of course, my sisters and I adored her.
My sister gave birth to my only nephew, Hunter, otherwise known as Beelzebub. (Don't worry, Hunter thinks it's funny when I call him that.) Stephanie is a great mother. She is not overly strict or overbearing, but when she means business, get back.
My momma in all her glory -- out in the yard, yelling at the dog. Ahhhh, memories. Trust me, her bark is worse than her bite. There has never been a sweeter woman in the world.
The ultimate mother....my grandmother. Thelma Sexton was known as "Mother" to the entire community, and for good reason. The ultimate matriarch, Mother was stern, all-knowing, and not afraid to speak her mind. Mother was more than just a grandmother, she was our friend.
The ultimate hugger -- my memommy, Evelyn Yelverton. (No photo because blogger is acting stupid, and it won't let me upload.) Memommy smelled like White Shoulders and pastries. She was that grandmother who would yell at Momma if she punished us in any way. And, of course, my sisters and I adored her.
My sister gave birth to my only nephew, Hunter, otherwise known as Beelzebub. (Don't worry, Hunter thinks it's funny when I call him that.) Stephanie is a great mother. She is not overly strict or overbearing, but when she means business, get back.
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