My first pictures!

On the left is a picture of the princess, many months ago. And on the right is a picture of Football Bride. And now I know how to add pictures and links to my blog!

Company's Comin'!

We are about to have overnight guests for the first time in a while (at least since Lydia and Cora were here a couple of weeks ago). Aniel are coming from Nashville, and they are bringing JS with them. This will be our first time to meet JS, since he just arrived in the country in August. He is currently living in Hartford, Connecticut, attending medical school. I have chatted with him a couple of times on the phone, and he seems to be a very friendly, sociable chap, so I am looking forward to meeting him.

When Aniel first set up this visit, she asked me if I would please dress up. I assumed she meant in a costume, since it is almost Halloween. I told her sure, and that if she said "Trick or treat" when she came to the door, I would give her candy. Well, that wasn't too bright a move on my part, at least the part about candy, since I have been buying (and eating) it regularly since she told me her plans. We've been through at least two bags of orange-flavored Halloween nougats and a bag of candy corn-flavored taffy from W*l-mart since then, and of course my bs has been higher than it needed to be. Today I bought her a bag of Hershey's chocolate to go with what was left of the pb-flavored kisses I bought yesterday. I don't think David will be into the chocolate, because of his chocolate allergy, and I intend to send what is left home with Aniel on Monday. I also made a batch of payday mix. That's a very simple recipe, by the way--a cup of peanuts, a cup of candy corn, mix them together, dump it in a bowl, you're done.

Now I'm on the supper menu, and David is on the housecleaning detail. He just finished making the new hide-a-bed so that it is ready for bedtime, as well as the guest bed in the extra bedroom. I made a batch of cinnamon bread along with a punchbowl cake, and really need to go start the broccoli slaw. We don't have a lot of pressure, though, since Aniel called to say they wouldn't be here until 10.

Time to check the bread--love to all, and God bless.

Definitely Delightful Definitions

Folks, I got this email today from my friend who's dating a priest--we'll not go into that right now. Anyway, I figured you all needed a laugh today.

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners. Each is an artificial word with only one letter altered to form a real word. Some are terrifically innovative:


1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

4. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

5. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

6. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

7. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

8. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

9. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

10. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

11. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

12. Glibido: All talk and no action.

13. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

14. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

15. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

16. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.

And, the pick of the lot...

17. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

The DTA had its monthly meeting today...

at the usual place (the Mexican McDonald's, for those of you familiar with that city). Only four members were there, the Equestrian, JJSMommy, beloved Jane-who-loves-big-pins, and Yours Truly, the designated driver. We started out with the mandatory margaritas and in a corner booth, but had to move since some of us were feeling claustrophobic. (I won't name them, but the table in the booth couldn't be scooted out far enough to give them room, even if it were on the diagonal.) Surprisingly, all went really well until the Equestrian said she had some bad news. Then she reported, "We have to go back to work next week." Of course Jane and I just laughed at her, which may have slightly hurt her feelings. She said to JJSMommy, "I think we need to move back to the booth--at least over there, people didn't laugh at us."

All in all, it was a good two-and-a-half-hour power lunch, with enough food left for my supper. Supplement that with a burrito for David, and no cooking necessary. I do like that place. Oh, and by the way, the little decorative bottle of brandy in the little decorative cooler has a lid that unscrews, and there is a liquid inside that smells vaguely of apples. Hmmmm, wonder if it really is brandy? As the Designated Driver and Tee Totaler, I'll never know.

Love to all, and God bless.

October 8 is a special day

35 years ago today I was sitting in church, in the choir rather than on the organ bench, my usual place. David was directing singing--he was minister of music, I was organist. When he got up to direct the final hymn, I told him quickly and quietly that we would be leaving RIGHT after church, rather than sticking around to talk like we usually did. He took one look at me and figured out why we would be leaving--matter of fact, I had to convince him that he had time to lead that last song.

We got home pretty quickly, although not record time--twenty miles, give or take a few, about 30 minutes. Then we ate lunch and talked about what else we would be doing that day. After consulting a friend, we called my folks to tell them to get to town, that "the show was on the road," and David and I headed for John Graves Ford Memorial.

Then we started the waiting game. That lasted pretty long and was pretty boring--nothing much happening for the first three hours or so. Mom and Dad got there, and we had a pleasant little visit. We sort of wondered if maybe we had misinterpreted signs from the morning, since stuff was going so slowly. I also wondered if maybe I shouldn't have some supper, but friends said no, just wait.

H stopped in for a quick visit, then headed home for his own supper--he anticipated having a good couple of hours before he needed to show up again. Dang it, I was getting hungry, too. But all that changed REALLY quickly. Stuff started happening lickety split. Matter of fact, when the girls stopped by the room and had a look, they got on the phone and called H to tell him to get back there! Only problem--no cell phones in 1972, and H hadn't gotten home yet. His wife took her place on the road at the bridge before he could get to his house, flagged him down, and sent him back to town. (Fortunately it wasn't too far.)

He got back in time, took a look at David, and said, "Get dressed. You're coming with me." Within less than twenty minutes, we were having a birthday party for, TA DAH, Everett William! Up until the time he arrived in the room, we had two choices for party guests, but Everett William was the one that showed up. Good thing, too, because his was the only name on the list!

Let's just say I'll always remember October 8th in a special way. Love to all, and God bless.

Molly, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

Things I'm going to miss about Molly not being a part of our family anymore:
1. What the heck am I going to do with my peanut butter jars? Nothing made Molly any happier when we went to see her than to give her an almost-empty peanut butter jar. She'd have that sucker licked clean in less than five minutes. Being part German Shepherd and having a long pointy snout helped on that aspect.
2. What dog am I going to talk about when folks are telling dog stories? Molly is the closest thing to a pet dog we've had since we married. Her living with Libby and Dexter and us visiting her there was the ideal situation for folks who can't be bothered with taking the responsibility of caring for a dog of their own...
3. Is there a dog anywhere who is much better trained? I hope Molly's new family appreciates all the work that went in to training her as far as table manners are concerned--they're surely not going to find another dog like her, who is tall enough to see what is on the table and well-enough mannered to leave it alone.
4. I'll miss the bruises on my legs from her tail wagging--boy, could she wag that sucker hard!
5. I'll miss my mount in the Derby--I could just straddle her. I didn't try to see if she could bear my weight--doesn't matter, I'm not a jockey anyway. (Hey remember, I said she was big!)
6. I'll miss introducing her to Cora Sophie. Molly was great with babies. She would walk around them so carefully, never stepping on them, knocking them over, or anything. And she didn't seem to mind if they used her for something to pull up on.
7. I remember how sweet she was with my mama. Mama dearly loved all dogs. I think Molly was special to her, though, because she had a German Shepherd as a child. When Mama was living out her last year at the nursing home, Libby brought Molly to visit her. Molly had never been to the facility before, but she was a dog on a mission when she got there--she was looking for Ann. She headed down the hall, past the nurses' station, and straight into Ann's room. Then she sat down on the floor and waited for Ann to come in, too. It absolutely shocked us--Mom wasn't in the room, but Molly knew which room was hers and was willing to wait until she showed up.
8. I'll miss Deck's stories about Molly and her sister and mother. See, Molly was part of a family of great dogs. Zena, the mom, had three pups, Molly, Bertha, and unnamed pup. My BFF in my home town had adopted all four dogs when their original owner had threatened to put them down. They were, like I said, great dogs. Unnamed pup found a home of her own, but BFF kept Molly, Bertha, and Zena. BFF and her husband have out-of-town family (WAY out of town family--out of the state, and almost out of the country!) that they visit at least once a year. While they were gone, the mother and her daughters often stayed at Libby's house. It was a pleasure to see the three of them interacting with each other. It was also fun to watch them eating--they had to lie down before they got their food. (This was to keep Bertha from eating everyone's dinner.) And, according to Deck, "Three big dogs make a big pile of dog waste!"

Oh, well. I do hope Molly is happy in her new home. I am really going to miss her, big pile of dog waste and all!

Good night to all, and God bless.

If it's Thursday, it must be Friendship--again!

Oh my word. Someone spread the word that there were some absolutely nutty American ladies (and some kind-hearted Japanese ladies) with nothing better to do than to keep babies all morning on Thursdays. Why do I say that? We had TEN infants and probably TEN toddlers this morning! (Like I said last week, it seemed more like 100.) Did I mention we were short-handed today? Yep. We were. Three workers to six infants was a strain, but four for ten wasn't any better!

I started of in bed babies with a little dear we'll call MegJoBethAmy, Little Woman, or LW, maybe two months old--one of the five new Chinese babies who showed up today. Not only were there 10 babies, more than half of them were first-timers! Little Woman peed--I knew she had peed, because her diaper was warm--and then started crying. I went and fetched her diaper bag. One problem: I got Pizza Girl's diaper bag, not LW's. Fortunately they were the same size, so I just put one of PG's diapers on LW. Of course as lots of tots her age do, not only had she peed...And also like lots of tots her age, she absolutely HATED having her pants changed! Which was too bad, because before the morning was over, I had changed her three times. (Probably would have been more, but I wasn't in that room all morning.) That seemed to do her for a while. Kyoko, the Japanese woman who has a "key" to working with the babies, got her settled into a swing, and she went to sleep. Good for you, Little Woman, because across the hall in toddlers, more help was needed.

Ramses and Cleopatra were back again. Ramses you may remember from our last blog, is really too old for the bed baby nursery, even though Cleo would fit right in, so we compromise and put them both in toddlers. Turns out Ramses is really too old for toddlers, too--he just turned three in September. Mama tried to get both of them into the 3-year-old class, but the worker there rightfully insisted that Cleo was too young to be in there, and they would have to go back down the hall. Once again I reassured Mama that they would be all right, that we would keep them together in toddlers. And once again, Cleo threw a fit royal. She sat there and yelled and shook her head and kicked her feet and let us know that our room was NOT where she wanted to be. I know those of you who are mothers are aware of this--there is NO language barrier with toddlers. No is the same in all languages.

Ram tested us today with throwing, but soon caught on that throwing balls was okay, throwing hard toys wasn't. He also showed us his musical ability today with the guitar. He had this really cool, rhythmic song he kept singing, sounded like "Two lil duds" or something else I didn't recognize. I told the ladies in toddlers it was probably some obscene Egyptian rap song, and they cracked up. We needed the humor, since at the time Ramses was the only one who wasn't crying. Another thing he did that got us giggling was when he fell off the riding duck and hit his head on the fence in the room--no harm. I asked him if the duck bucked him off--the Japanese ladies collapsed into a fit of giggles then. I said I hoped Ram wouldn't go home and try to repeat that bit about the duck buck, because our luck, he'd probably not get it out right, and they would think we had been teaching him bad words!

Since Ram was settled and nothing was going to settle Cleo short of a tranquilizer, I went out into the lobby just in time to meet a little Korean girl (we'll call her Vashti) and "Ahnya hash a meeka'd" her mom (yes, I know the spelling is way off). Mom giggled and responded in kind, and Vashti decided that maybe, just maybe, I could take her in to the toddler room. She was crying, but not completely hopelessly like Cleo. She settled down pretty easily and started playing. Of course, all Cleo had to do was look over and see me, and she started her tantrum again. What to do? I didn't need to ponder the dilemma long, because Key showed up at the door--We need Susan. Baby room.

Back to the baby room. Little Woman was crying again. I picked her up--yes, dirty diaper again. Throw a fit, LW, I'm changing your pants anyway--oh, shoot, don't pee on the clean diaper! Changing pants again! By then she was really burned out with me. I remembered there had been a pacifier in her bag (not PG's, hers)--no, not what she wanted. There was also a little formula bottle in there, one of the freebies they give you at the hospital. That should have been a clue that this person wasn't a bottle baby... Right. She didn't want THAT, either. No, thank you, rocking was out of the question. Walking the floor? Well, maybe, for about a minute. She wasn't old enough to be interested in watching the other kids, and I couldn't stay in the toddler room anyway, despite the fact that Vashti was wanting me to come back, because Cleo threw a fit when she saw me come in. And it was hard to navigate in that room, since Al was trying to escape and was pretty much constantly underfoot.

I tried sitting down again with Little Woman and tried the bottle again. Cornie, another worker, said, "Is that her bottle?" I replied, "No, but maybe she'll take it anyway." (It really was her bottle, but she wasn't going to take it, so it didn't matter.) So what do you do when you try the pants, the pacifier, the bottle, the rocker, and floor walking, and nothing works? You go look for the mama, at least with the bed babies, you go look for the mama. I found her without a lot of difficulty, brought her back to the nursery, and found a place where she could feed LW. That took care of LW. Good thing--because now Jackie Chan was pitching a fit. Wooo boy, he out-screamed all the other kiddos! Right when the mamas were coming! And of course, his mama was one of the LAST ones to show up! (That never fails. There's a reason why they aren't in a hurry to come back...)

But show up she did, and all the babies left the church happy. Ram and Cleo's mama was once again very grateful for our kindness to her babies, and like I said, that sort of gratitude makes the floor walking well worth the effort. Little Woman's mama apologized about her daughter's crying. I told her no, I should be the one apologizing, because I had not come after her soon enough. We need to set a protocol for these poor little bitty babies--maybe fifteen minutes, and then we fetch Mama? Usually they just need to nurse a while, and then they're satisfied. Anyway, I do love Friendship, and I do love my babies!

Good night to all, and God bless.

I can't believe she's gone.

I just got an email from my cousin Libby. For quite a few years now, Libby has been the owner of a beautiful Rottweiler/German Shepherd cross, Molly. Molly has been so much a part of Libby's family that it is hard to remember when she actually came to live with her. The news--Molly isn't living with Libby and Dexter anymore. She has gone to live with another family, in another city.

David always called her the gentle giant. You can imagine her size, but maybe not her loving nature. Whenever we went to Libby's, Molly would let the family know we were there with one "Woof". Then she would look to see who was coming and run to fetch a toy to show us. Sometimes she would even be carrying two or three toys! (Hey, she is a big dog with a big mouth.) She took up a lot of space in their little house--she is a house dog, you see, and like I said, she is a big dog! She had a "den" behind the recliner where she would go to get out of the way. It was very common to hear, "Molly, go to your den," and that's where she would head.

Gee, folks, I can't concentrate. This is news that will take a while to settle in and become a part of my thinking. Maybe I'll tell you more tomorrow. Right now, it's about all I can handle to think that Molly won't be at Libby's anymore when we go to visit. I'm sad.

Love to all, and God bless.

I must be getting old...

My good friend Ella called me yesterday afternoon. She wanted to know if I were coming to the Silver Splash this morning. I told her I hadn't planned on it, that I thought I'd just go to the 9:00 water aerobics class I had been attending fairly regularly (which she also attended). She seemed a little disappointed that I wasn't going to be there. When I pressed her on the matter, she said she had been the only person at the class the previous Thursday.

Since I have been a huge supporter of the Silver Sneakers program, I didn't like hearing that its water version, Silver Splash wasn't being attended. There are not a lot of fitness programs in our areas for folks with silver in their hair, other than the few offered at the Senior Citizens' Center, and I don't want the ones that are available to disappear, so I decided to go to Splash this morning.

This was my second time at Silver Splash. The first time I went was the first session of the class. At that time, I thought it was an awfully poky class, not well organized at all. I should have given it another shot--it's progressed beautifully. The instructor knows the routine now, all the way through, and isn't continuously going over to consult her note cards. That helps. Also, it's a small class--only six or seven today--and that is an improvement over the 9:00 session, which has upwards of 20 every day. It's easy stuff, for sure, but you can bump up the number of reps and the tempo if it is moving too slowly, which works for me.

I told Ella I'd be back next Tuesday--I guess I'm getting old. I liked the "Old Ladies' Class".

Love to all, and God bless.