Y'all know how I love Antoine Dawson. Did you know he has his own iPhone app? It's blurry because John was filming while he was laughing - he loves Antoine as much as I do:
And the app also includes a direct link to both the original news footage and the YouTube rap. What's not to love?! (It's called "BedIntruder". Go ahead and download it - you know you want to!)
Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.
~ Proverbs 16:24
I stitched this sampler well over two decades ago because I liked the colors and the pattern - the verse was just an added bonus. As the years have passed this tidbit of scripture has proved itself true to me time and time again. I can't count how many times a kind word has turned my day around, given me a new perspective. It doesn't have to be anything important or deeply meaningful, and it can be from a complete stranger. It can be someone in an elevator telling me they hope my day goes well, or an elderly lady in Target complimenting my child's manners. I've found that it also improves my attitude when I'm the one speaking the pleasant words. There have been days when I've been in a truly foul mood and forced myself to go find someone to be nice to in order to pull myself out of the "funk". One day this almost backfired on me, though.
I was in the hospital and my grumpiness had turned into something vicious - I was spoiling for a fight. I decided rather than head to the office in this humor and possibly get fired for being so mean and nasty I'd say something nice to the next person I saw and turn my mood around. I walked out into the hall and saw a white-haired gentleman waiting on a stretcher. He was wearing a bright orange golf shirt and it really suited his coloring - he looked robust and rosy-cheeked. I walked toward him with a smile on my face to compliment him on his choice of attire, but as I caught his eye and opened my mouth to speak I saw the person sitting on a chair nearby wasn't an attentive daughter, it was a prison guard. His fashion-forward orange shirt was a prison jumpsuit. He was looking at me expectantly, so I patted his shoulder and asked if he was doing OK, if he needed anything? He said he was fine, and I managed to get around the corner before I collapsed against the wall laughing. Still, I think it improved both our days - probably mine more than his!
This verse in the Bible more than any other proves to me that God is a woman and that She is most likely a well-brought-up Southern girl. Either that or we well-brought-up Southern girls are God's particular favorites. Same difference.
Join Dianna at The Kennedy Adventures for Saints and Scripture Sunday every week. You never know what you'll find there!
I've been invited to attend a Writer's Group meeting. These are people who write BOOKS. They are serious about it. They attend conferences, they meet regularly, they take classes. These are PROFESSIONAL WRITERS.
I blog. No, I'm not a writer with a blog, I'm a blogger. My most recent post was about what's in my purse, for the love of God! Thinking about sitting in the same room with these people has me as nervous as a whore in church.
It started when I posted a little tidbit of fiction called It Happened at Pippi's, and then a follow-up, It Happened at Pippi's (Part II) (clever, no?). My friend Lisa (a SERIOUS WRITER) encouraged me to keep it up, keep going and finish it. I just laughed. Then a couple of weeks ago she invited me to a meeting of this local Writer's Group. I insisted she tell people in advance I was a blogger and see if they were still willing to have me attend. Believe it or not, she did, and they are.
So here I am, directions printed out, notebook and pen in my purse, iPhone charged up in case I need to tweet for support, kind of flushed and twitchy from WAY too many cups of coffee. And what's the burning question on my mind? "What do I wear?"
This is one of those times (like needing to go potty in the woods) when it would be SO much easier to be male. I'd just throw on something relatively clean and hit the road. But, no. Since I am female I have to think about what message my clothes are going send to the people I'm meeting with. Will nice jeans be too casual? Send an "I'm not taking you seriously" vibe? Will everyone be wearing black because they are mature and artistic? Should I wear Birkies for that creative, bohemian look?
I've emailed Lisa (who's probably already regretting inviting me) for advice. If she doesn't email me back before I have to leave here's my decision:
Boots. Not nice, new, cute-girl boots, either. Old, beat-up, I-can-kick-your-ass-and-not-break-a-sweat boots. Even if we're sitting around a table and no one sees them I'll feel more confident in boots. And if they have a bouncer who throws out goofy twitter-addicted bloggers the boots might give me an edge.
Roo at Nice Girl Notes is encouraging everyone to link up and share the contents of our purses. Why do I read people's blogs? because I'm nosy. Do I want to see what these people carry in their purses? Hell, yeah! So, in the interest of fairness, here's what's in mine:
Huge wallet (bigger than many purses) with checkbook, cards, money, and change. It won't zip closed - I've stopped trying. MP3 and earbuds (pink, they're the only ones my kids don't steal), Lidoderm patch (wonderful if you have back or neck pain - ask your doctor), Cinnamon Altoids (must have them constantly - no other flavor will do), a claw clip (for work) and a simple updo pin (for physical therapy), ibuprofen, iPhone (my Precious!), keys with 10 "frequent shopper" cards, small tape measure (essential for impromptu thrift store shopping), ID badge for work, emery board, chapstick (worn constantly, I also have one in my lab coat and one in my car), work pager (off), work cell phone (off), hairbrush, marker, dental floss, two thumb drives full of blogging stuff, and 3 lip-plumping lipsticks (almost never worn). It wasn't that long ago that I always had a Hot Wheels car or two in my purse. It kind of makes me sad they're not needed anymore.
This is "Trick or Treat" by Judith Cheney. She's a fabulous folk artist and I've bought several of her prints, but this is my favorite. I love Fall, I love Halloween, and this piece just captures for me all the excitement of the season - I can practically feel the chill in the air and hear the rustle of leaves! I appreciate her attention to detail in all her artwork, but I think the light is what makes this one so special. Don't you just want to run right up to the door of that house in the middle? I bet they've got the BEST candy! Do you have a favorite piece of art? One that makes you smile every time you see it?
Last Fall we evidently had hard freezes in many parts of the country significantly earlier than is usual. Of course I don't recall this happening, but I can't recall my own cell phone number most of the time (hey, I don't call it!). Anyway, the result is that there was not a large enough pumpkin harvest to can the usual amount of pumpkin last Fall, so now we have no canned pumpkin. There evidently hasn't been canned pumpkin in the stores for several months, but I didn't notice it because I don't use pumpkin in the Spring and Summer. So don't go to your local grocery store and ask for canned pumpkin. They don't have it, they haven't had it for months, and they're getting REALLY tired of telling people that.
So here are your options: Buy a real pumpkin (this year's crop is OK so far) and cut it open, scoop out the seeds, scrape the edible part off, and cook it in some fashion. I can't give you any details about this option because I have no intention of doing it. It's messy and WAY too much trouble to get what I need. OR you can use sweet potatoes. Just buy a couple of sweet potatoes, poke them with a fork, and zap them in the microwave. Push the "potato" button - works like a charm. Then when they've cooled a bit slice them open and scoop out enough to use in your favorite pumpkin recipe. Two medium sweet potatoes yield about one cup.
Don't have a favorite pumpkin recipe? Well, let me share my new-found favorite. I saw this recipe for Pumpkin Spice Donut Muffins on StrawBerryCAKE and after I wiped the drool off my keyboard I went in search of pumpkin. That's what started this whole thing. Other than the pumpkin - sweet potato substitution I did make a couple more changes to make these more "muffin" than "donut" (I'm trying to eat healthier, really I am!), so here's exactly what I did:
Yes, there is a Patron Saint of Sleep. Elijah (Feast Day July 20) was wandering in the desert, depressed and praying for death. He fell asleep, and an angel watched over him, waking him only to eat and drink and then letting him fall asleep again. He awoke with a renewed faith and energy to do God's work (1 Kings 19).
In honor of St. Elijah, let's all celebrate today by . . . taking a nap! I could use a little more faith and energy, how about you? Want to share a favorite Saint or Scripture? Head on over to The Kennedy Adventures every Sunday and join in.
Entrance to Chapel of St. Elijah in Portugal
I had what I thought was a brilliant idea this afternoon. It has been a really long week, and I haven't been sleeping well, so by the time my work day was winding down I was at that bleary-eyed, punchy, flight-of-ideas stage. There was something I read on Twitter, can't remember what, that got me started thinking about communes. You know: sharing the land, sharing the workload, sharing the responsibility, yada yada yada.
I started thinking that this would work out pretty well for me since I had a long list of things to do and REALLY wanted to go home and take a nap with the dog. After all, I'd been up since 3:15, working to pay the bills, so if I went home to a commune wouldn't there be someone there who had spent the day cleaning? Doing laundry? Going to the grocery? Paying bills with the money I was making? Perhaps even someone would be starting supper. I could probably go home and lie down with a couple of commune toddlers and read to them until we all fell asleep for a nice afternoon nap. Sounds pretty good, huh?
So on the drive home (mostly to keep myself awake) I thought about who might live in my commune and how things would work. I came up with a pretty sizable list of people and their families I thought I could live with. Of course we'd need plenty of room (Dad, can I have a big chunk of the farm for a commune?) and high-speed Internet. And my iPhone has to work ALL THE TIME. The fact that I'm mentioning my iPhone before plumbing scares even me. So, yes, of course we need all the basic creature comforts: electricity, running water, high thread-count sheets.
Naturally I would want to feel like I was making a significant contribution to the community as a whole, but I'm not hauling my butt off to work every day while everyone else is snoozing, so I figure I'll work two days a week. And since I'm a morning person I'll gather eggs and milk the cow every morning. That probably only sounds appealing to me since I've never gathered eggs or milked a cow before. Yes, I'm a country girl, but it's a "tobacco and beef cattle" farm, not a "chickens and dairy cattle" farm. I'll also get up with any kids that wake up early in the morning. I think the other commune members will consider this a VERY valuable contribution. I'd also be willing to do some of the cooking, but since my aunt Beverly is already living smack dab in the middle of the proposed commune site and cooks better than Paula Deen I'll just be her "commune sous chef".
What do you guys think? Who wants to be part of this and what will you do in the commune? My dad doesn't read my blog, so we'll all just show up and surprise him. He likes surprises . . . I think.
I blog because it enriches my life. It's as simple (and as complicated) as that. Like many people, I started blogging to share pictures and stories about my children with friends and relatives across the country. Then I started "meeting" other bloggers. First I met them through comments and emails, memes and bloghops. THEN I met them in real life (IRL) at Bloggy Boot Camp in Baltimore this past March. I was hooked. There are so many brilliant, creative people doing fantastic things right now, and they are doing them on blogs! And on Twitter and BlogFrog and Facebook. Bloggers are joining communities like SITS and ThetaMom and they are interacting with people in such amazing ways. Whatever aspect of your life you want to examine, share, or improve - you can find it here! Blogging has brought my family closer, strengthened my friendships, and given me a creative outlet that makes me proud of myself (sometimes) and keeps me from taking myself too seriously (often). You will take blogging from me when you pry my iPhone from my cold, dead hands.
Yes, you read that title right. This is about enjoying a blog conference you ARE NOT attending. Blog Conferences are just about the most fun you can have with your clothes on and I think everyone should go to as many as possible. In fact, if you don't blog I think you should probably start a blog just so you can go to blog conferences - really. But let's face it - we can't all go to every single one. Maybe you've got a family wedding that weekend, maybe it's too far to drive and you don't like to fly, maybe it's just not in the budget no matter how much you stretch. Or maybe it's the same weekend as Parents' Weekend at your eldest child's college and he'll be marching with The World's Most Dangerous Drumline for his school's first home football game and there's no way you're going to miss that! Oh, was that just me?
Anyway, last weekend was Bloggy Boot Camp in Philadelphia and my friend Dianna was going without me. She'd be hanging with cool people we'd met at Bloggy Boot Camp in Baltimore this spring and meeting new people I was dying to meet in real life. I didn't want to miss a second of the fun, so here's the game plan I laid out:
1.) Start at least a month in advance. Find out who's going. Someone will post a Twitter list. If it's a Bloggy Boot Camp conference you're interested in (and it should be) keep an eye on their site and their tweets and follow the bloggybootcamp hashtag on Twitter. Once you start figuring out who's going follow their blogs and follow their tweets. Interact with them! Make friends. If someone posts a tweet about needing a roommate or having a ticket for sale retweet it - help out!
2.) Check out the sponsors. Look at their sites, show them some love on Twitter.
3.) Check out the speakers and find out what topics they are speaking on. Ask your friends who will be attending if you can tweet them questions you want them to ask the speaker during the conference, and if they will take notes you can get copies of.
4.) Be supportive of attendees the last couple of days before the conference. Spend as much time as you can on Twitter. People are going to be worrying about sick kids, getting bad haircuts, and not allowing enough time for pedicures and eyebrow waxing. They will be sleep deprived and not have anything to wear. BE SUPPORTIVE. Say the things you would want someone to say to you in that situation - be a friend!
5.) The morning of the conference get on Twitter and STAY THERE. No, don't hide your iPhone in the your bouquet if you're a bridesmaid in your cousin's wedding, but be on there as much as you can. My son's college is a 2-hour drive away and so I'd designated travel time as Twitter time. There were an average of 10 tweets PER MINUTE under the bloggybootcamp hashtag at some points during the day. Read them all, retweet and respond if you want to, but don't hog the tweet stream. Favorite the ones with links and quotes you want to come back to.
6.) Don't lose your mind if you get out of the loop for a while. In case anyone is interested an iPhone in certain mountainous, rural areas of Kentucky is like tits on a bull - useless. And screeching, waving the iPhone around the car, and yelling, "I need Twitter!" doesn't help. Just sayin'.
7.) When you get time and reception go back through the tweet stream and catch up on what you've missed. If you've missed a lot HootSuite goes back further than TweetDeck so it's handy to have both.
8.) Check your All Friends column frequently as well. Some of the attendees will be tweeting without the bloggybootcamp hashtag some or all of the time and you don't want to miss anything.
9.) Keep watching the hashtag through the evening and the next morning as well. People are going to start posting pictures to Flickr and Whrrl and you'll get to see what everyone REALLY looks like, not just the thumbnail pic or avatar you've been seeing. Be prepared to be very jealous at this point, because you can tell from their faces they are all having the time of their lives.
10.) Watch everyone's blog posts for the next week - there will be lots of recaps with great pictures and hilarious stories. Hit all the sponsor's websites again - they made all this possible. And of course be ready for the posts from the speakers. They will review what they spoke about so that you'll get some excellent tips even if you didn't have anyone taking notes for you.
11.) If you are exceptionally lucky (as I was) you can beg your friend who went to the conference to come over and tell you every blessed detail. Or you can camp out on her doorstep until she agrees to let you in - whatever works for you. Bribery with food, drink, and toys for her kids is optional but strongly encouraged. Be prepared, though. This visit will almost certainly culminate in the purchase of tickets for an upcoming conference. Bloggy Boot Camp San Diego, watch out! These Southern girls are packing up their accents and their enthusiasm and heading your way in March!
Yes, that was eleven - get over it.
The SITS Back to Blogging Event assignment for today is to re-upload a post with a title that you are particularly proud of and explain why. This was really hard for me, because I just don't do a great job titling my posts. I know I should have more keywords, be less vague, but sometimes the title is harder for me to write than the whole rest of the post! Anyway, this one was titled: "He Graduates in Twenty Days" and just the sight of those words brought tears to my eyes, because I remember this day so well, and "He graduates in twenty days" were the words my heart was tapping out in Morse Code in my chest that day. It was a tough one.
He wore it all week.Today's assignment for the SITS Back to Blogging Event is to re-upload a post you wish more people had read. This is one of my favorite posts because it truly just wrote itself. I sat in carpool that day scribbling as fast as I could and giggling hysterically. If you've never seen it - I hope you enjoy it. If you've read it before, please do so again. It still makes me smile (even more so now that I've bribed my youngest to start riding the bus!)
My Mama Kat's Writers' Workshop inspiration for this week: What's the message you would craft?
What perfect timing! While I can't claim to compare to the inspiration post, I was so inspired the other day in carpool by what was going on around me that I put aside my light mystery novel to grab some scrap paper and start listing the Top Ten Things Not To Do In Carpool Line. So this is longer than just a message, more of a memo really, and please feel free to copy and paste to create your own memo for distribution in your own carpool line. This is appropriate for both public and private schools, since items were inspired equally by my experiences as a parent at both. Don't think you can always pick which is which, 'cause, honey, you would be shocked! It's hard to decide which offenses are more irritating, so I've listed them in order of occurrence from the moment I pull into carpool line until the moment I leave it.
10) Do not leave your car running while you are parked in carpool for 20 minutes just so you can run your AC. You are blowing hot, foul exhaust fumes at all the cars around you whose occupants are following the rules and sweltering with engines off and windows open. You have an exception if you have an infant in the car, but that's the only valid excuse.
9) Do not park your car in carpool line and then prance around from car to car in your tennis skirt, especially if you haven't played tennis that day. Really - we can tell from the hair. And if you are too deeply involved with your conversation three rows over to move your car when it's your turn to go I think the patrol kids should be allowed to take a cattle prod to your ass to get you moving.
8) If you really must smoke in carpool line (can you really not go 20 minutes without one? really?) do not blow the smoke into the car parked next to you. As my grandmother would say, it's "common". You Southern girls know what I'm saying here.
7) Do not play "Name That Tune" with songs on the radio. That's Queen, honey, and there is no one else who sounds like Freddy Mercury. You probably can't name the Beatles, either, so I have no use for you.
6) Do not sing along with any song on the radio. I don't care how well you think you sing - this is not karaoke carpool. And especially don't sing the profane lyrics to the rap song you're listening to. I prefer the driving bass that shakes my fillings loose 'cause then I can't hear the words as well.
5) Do not stand around in carpool on a pretty early April day bragging about how you've never received a W-2. This makes us frumpy-looking, exhausted working women want to run down your bleached-blonde, laser-whitened, surgically augmented bodies with our old, dirty cars. And we don't worry about the prison time either, sugar, 'cause eight hours sleep every night and three meals a day cooked by someone else sounds pretty damn good about now.
4) Being old is no excuse. I think it's wonderful that some grandparents pick up their grandchildren at carpool - really I do - they can even pick up mine if they want to. But they have to follow the rules. It's a carpool LINE. This means there is a beginning and an end. First in is first out. Being over 55 does not mean you can drive across the cones, pick up your grandkids, and dodge all the other sobbing kindergartners while you race out of the parking lot. Bring in those patrol kids with the cattle prods and set them to "stun".
3) Do not share True Confessions teenage sex stories in a loud voice. This applies whether you are talking to you friend in the passenger seat or your friend on the cell phone. And most especially don't do it while the carpool line's moving, 'cause it's like a train wreck - we just can't look away. And the kiddo we smoosh just might be your own (hopefully not conceived during that story, 'cause that was way too icky).
2) Do not scream at your child as soon as they get to the car. Or if you are a butthead and really must, then roll your window up. I do not want to hear, "What the hell were you thinking? How many damn times do I have to tell you to turn that f#$%in' altar server form in?" Oh, yeah, honey, that was a dad in a parochial school carpool.
1) I'm assuming you can read. That sign says "Right Turn Only". Do not attempt to turn left. This is not all about you. Rear-ending your Lexus seems like a reasonable option right about now.
I'm excited about the SITS "Back to Blogging" Event that starts today! Each day this week has its own assignment, and today's is to re-upload your very first blog post, and re-write it if you like, doing a little "before and after" critique. I was hesitant to even look at my first blog post since I was sure it was something amazingly stupid and I would cringe in embarrassment, but it's actually OK:
Jack's loving Camp Shakespeare! They are performing "Romeo and Juliet" on July 3, and he was SO worried he would have to do an "gross" love scene, so he was very pleased to find out today he has been cast as Lord Montague (Romeo's father)- WHEW!Spaghetti Carbonara for supper tonight - fast and frugal and everyone loved it.
No picture, but I figured out how to include a link! And it's brief, which is something I need to get back to. I'm WAY to long-winded sometimes. This post brought back memories of when John was still Jack, wasn't yet a 'tween, and wasn't interested in girls - sigh. And I haven't made Spaghetti Carbonara in forever - need to fix that again soon. Hmmm, and apparently my font was larger - when did that change? Should I go back to a larger font size?
These are tenors:
This Aaron on tenors playing with The World's Most Dangerous Drumline at Morehead State University.
Yeah, the harness makes his uniform pooch out, but the drums weigh about a million pounds, so it's worth it.
This is Beaker, the Morehead State University Eagles mascot:
There was a football game, and the football team played really well and won the game. I really appreciate the football team playing before and after the marching band performance I went to see, but if you want pictures of the game and the players you'll need to visit one of the football players' moms' blogs. Below are three videos. Each is three minutes long and if you watch all three you will have seen the entire halftime show. Of course I don't expect anyone to do this unless they are related to me. If you ARE related to me you should watch, because I'll probably quiz you about it next time I see you. Just sayin'. If you are really into percussion just skip to the final video ("cadence") to watch the drumline kick some ass. Oh, and Aaron is the tenor furthest to your left on the field.
Matthew 19:13-15
Then little children were being brought to him in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs." And he laid his hands on them and went on his way.
I thought I'd adjusted pretty well to Aaron being away at college. I haven't texted, emailed, or called him too many times per day. There's been no crying since the day we dropped him off and I've kept the moping to a minimum. But Michael pointed out the other day that there are a few adjustments still to be made. Here are the clues that you, too, might need to do some adjusting:
One of the the . . . OK, the ONLY upside of having the flu for the past several days was that I got to do some uninterrupted reading. I'd just gotten Teresa Giudice's cookbook, "Skinny Italian" late last week, and I read the whole thing over the weekend. It's fabulous. Really, it is. You know I love Real Housewives of New Jersey, and even before reading this cookbook I knew I would love hanging out in the kitchen with Teresa, drinking wine and gossiping, but this cookbook is so much more than I had anticipated.
I rarely buy cookbooks anymore, because let's face it, you can find fifty recipes for anything you want to cook online in about two minutes. I have favorite recipe sites and food blogs, not recipe books. But Teresa's is worth buying. Not only is every recipe in it simple, healthy, and delicious-looking (with all nutritional information at the back), but it's well written (yes, by a ghost-writer) and funny. One of my favorite parts is a chart with the most commonly used Italian herbs and spices, what form they are best used in, and when in the cooking process to add them - HANDY! I made Teresa's Favorite Tagliatelle for supper and the guys LOVED it (sorry, forgot to take a picture) and this week for lunch I'm eating Panzanella Salad.
I have the flu. I realized I had the flu Saturday morning when I ached like I'd been beaten and was shaking so hard my teeth rattled. At least it explained why I'd been feeling kind of crappy the previous couple of days.
Who gets the flu Labor Day Weekend? There's just something wrong with that. The weather was beautiful, Aaron was home from college, and I was lying in bed glassy-eyed all weekend. I tried to go back to work today and ended up home in bed about halfway through the day.
So I've been living in jammies (good thing), losing weight because of the fever and a poor appetite (good thing), and taking NyQuil on a regular basis (bad thing, bad thing, bad thing). What's in NyQuil? It works wonders when I'm sick, gets me some much-needed rest, keeps the fever down - but what's up with the hallucinogenic dreams? This afternoon I dreamt I was grooming squirrels with a toothbrush. First off, I hate squirrels, at least the mutant ninja squirrels in my backyard, and would be much more likely to attack them with a sharpened toothbrush than chase them around brushing their fur. Secondly . . . I can't really remember. Going back to bed now. More coherent post at a later date - sigh.
A few days ago one of my step-brothers was bitten by a copperhead while hiking. He was bitten on the hand. He was bitten on the hand because although he correctly identified the snake and knew it was poisonous he still poked it with a stick.
Then yesterday my step-sister (completely different family, absolutely no relation to the aforementioned step-brother) got married. AWWW. She got married on the same day her home-incarceration anklet came off. She's on probation for selling prescription drugs.
Comparatively, I'm both classy and brilliant this week. Seriously, you can't make this shit up.
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