Only a dork...

We haven't had a lot of video game systems at our house. We had the computers where Tetris and Solitaire take up way too much of our time (although I will say I RULE our Tetris scoreboard), and we had an old Atari knock-off with games like Centipede and Breakout and that sort of thing. Fun enough that there's even a geek version available with some of the original games all packed into one joystick. ( Jakks Atari Classics 10 In 1 TV Games if you really want to check it out. But be warned the controls are less responsive that the original system. Don't ask me how I know.)

But I digress.

So someone in the family (won't say who but he's over 5' 10") got the bright idea to get a Wii. "There's sports games and exercise programs and don't forget Wii Fit. It'll be great to keep us active when it's raining all winter and we can't ride."

What do I know about Wii?

There's a website for people that have hurt themselves playing Wii. There are categories of injuries you can inflict with a Wii. There are doctors around the globe worried about Wii-related injuries. And they have a cute commercial. No one sporting bruises at all.

So being the informed consumer that I am, what do I say?

"Okay."

After all, what kind of maroon do you have to be to hurt yourself playing a video game?

Apparently my kind. (Is it spelled "dorque" in Canada?)

Turns out I'm not a very good cow racer (just about leaned off the chair) and my golf game's not good either (bent a fingernail. Don't laugh - that hurts!) And as if the Wii-tennis-strained elbow and the obscure-but-somehow-related-to-Wii-bowling muscle at the back of my right arm weren't enough, for Christmas we added Dance Dance Revolution to the mix.

So now I'm limping (but only slightly) after that last jump on "I Want Candy" proved to be my undoing.

But, hey, I burned 100 calories.

Great idea, hon.

All the blessings of this wonderful season to you and your family, today and in the coming new year.
Merry Christmas!


"Christmas Blessings" by VJCoulman
Digital painting

Garden-fresh carrots for Christmas

One of the challenges when I moved from a Zone 2 to a Zone 7 was figuring out the gardening rules. All sorts of wonderful things grow in my area but I've had to learn HOW they grow. Roses, which were pretty much an annual back in Saskatchewan, verge on being a weed around here. Marigolds, a staple of previous gardens, are lucky to last overnight after the earwigs find them. Heather likes moist roots but peonies need drainage. The dirt is a random mix of rock, clay and silt so soil amending is a gardening lifestyle skill. But the climate means you can plant green peas in April and again in September but NOT in June because of the HEAT. Crop rotation is another gardening skill. And bug identification another that I won't dwell on right now.

When we did our addition last year, I had to rip out the only things that were growing at all for me - my raspberry patch and strawberry bed. They were planted in raised beds so that we could pick the dirt they grew in. And they were doing alright - just starting to produce consistently. But out they came.

This year my wonderful father reset the raised beds when he came to visit and we tried again. Nothing ambitious - just some snow peas, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and carrots. And a few potatoes that were sprouting in the cupboard.

The green peas produced - not enough for a meal - but enough for a healthy snack pretty much anytime we wandered by the garden. The potatoes gave us one meal of new red potatoes (yummy but skimpy). The cucumbers were much happier - we actually had to foist a few off on friends and neighbors. The lettuce yielded enough to add to a sandwich daily. And the tomatoes went insane - not necessarily in production but in size. Whew! And the carrots I forgot about.

Until today.

Now, we've had snow and rain and a couple nights of freezing temps so I wasn't expecting much. But I noticed the sad carrot tops laying along the ground and thought "Well, I guess I shouldn't leave them out much longer." (Okay, it wasn't a plan on my part - just my usual gardening neglect that typically sets in around August.) And you never know, parsnips benefit from a good frost before eating - maybe it works for carrots...

So after 6 months of watering and weeding and tending (and neglecting), here's our crop:















Wait, it looks much more significant after I get it cleaned up...














Don't laugh too hard. They were fresh and crisp and tasted very good both raw and cooked with just a hint of butter. We'll even add a couple to our Christmas day apple-carrot salad. How many of you can do that in December?

Spoiled again

I'm getting spoiled - first I get a night with the house to myself, then my DH gets sneaky and takes me out to dinner last night. Sneaky because he gave me 15 minutes warning.

I made him wait 25 while I spruced up a bit.

Have to say though, enjoyed it immensely. It's been such a crazy couple months that it was nice to meet the man I've been sleeping beside for so long again.

So we sat in one of those casual restaurant/bars with informal decor but actual staff and the snow fell through the street lights outside and it felt right to be out with my honey and watching his eyes light up as he talked about a challenge he'd been having at work. Of course, reality always steps in and we did a little last minute Christmas shopping at the Toys R Us next door before we headed home. Time was we used to go out and then hit a book store for a few hours as our indulgence. It just occurred to me that a bookstore was on the other side of the restaurant and didn't even appear on my radar.

Do you suppose I'm approaching middle age?

Never mind, don't answer that. It was a good night.

A night of revelry

Sometimes people tell me things but all the dots don't connect very well. And sometimes that leads to some pretty exciting news.

Like tonight.

My last deadline for the year passed 19 minutes ago. I got the article turned in on time after having NO sources for it less than 4 hours ago. But it's done so it's done.

Just as I'm doing some last minute tidying on my desk (it needs more than a minute but still) DH pops his head round the studio door and says "Okay, we're out of here."

Um...bye?

Turns out (and he did tell me this) he's taking the kids for supper and Christmas shopping tonight. What does this mean for me?

TIME IN AN EMPTY HOUSE!! Whew! The possibilities boggle the mind! I could catch up on some baking, write Christmas cards (BTW, they aren't in the mail yet so don't hold your breath), clean, dance around in my fuzzy snowflake socks, paint, catch up on banking (nothing like the Christmas season for not having a clue how much money you have), sew (making costumes seems to have awakened some old demons) or just sit and stare at the wall in a stupor for awhile (although that would be a shameful waste).

I think I'm going to start with quiche and herbal tea for supper, my Go Fish Christmas CD (great rendition of Little Drummer Boy) and then see what notion strikes next.

I'm off to fritter away some time...

While I do that, here's one of my favorite Christmas songs. You know, not counting the ones about Jesus birth and stuff.



Ta.

A Dickens of a play

Well, we're done.

Whew.

The drama I've been involved in for so long is finished except for the clean up. (I'll be getting to that later today.) We ran for three nights, had almost 1600 people come through, 15 people accepted the best Christmas present anyone could get, and the count on the funds raised for the teen shelter should be coming in today. (added 12-21-08 We found out today that we raised just over $6,000 for the teen shelter - yippee!)

You know how sometimes you slave at something, with the progress and the frustrations, maybe a teary session or two, and then look back and say "Well. That was totally worth it"?

That's us. All smiles that things went well, that so many people (over 100) worked together to pull it off, that the snow machine was TOTALLY gorgeous and that we did it and did it well. It's also drawn out some of the reclusive creative types around us that suddenly have ideas for their own stories, dramas and songs. Cool.

It is sort of bittersweet to be done after living it so long but after a chance to recuperate a bit, I'm sure this dynamic duo will be back to the planning board to come up with another fantastic production. And I'm sure I'll end up right back in there doing my thing alongside them.

(I heard a rumor that the next one might be set in the 1940s and I can't wait to plan the costumes for that!).

Photo: Me (just 'cause you asked, Patti), Rene' Phelps (director/scriptwriter), Roger Hutley (scriptwriter/songwriter/composer) and an orphan that a few of you may recognize.

A finished candy cane

Awhile ago I posted a sketch for a candy cane painting I was working on. The painting is finally finished (well, I actually finished it three weeks ago but had it at the print shop to have Christmas cards made) and I'm pretty happy with it. Is it exactly what I'd hoped for? Well, maybe not quite. Am I okay with that - yep.


For those of you that like technical details, the original is painted in acrylic paints on an 11" x 14" wrapped canvas (which means the painted border wraps too). This is a photo, not the actual scan, but will give you a pretty good idea of how it turned out.

If you want to try it out for yourself or know a young artist that might want to try their own color scheme on it, the sketch is now available as a coloring sheet on my website.

Have fun! I sure did.

Christmas eating tips

I've had to do a number of dieting and nutrition articles as part of my freelance magazine work but when a friend sent this to me, I had to laugh out loud. This looks like much more practical advice than the "experts" give me...

CHRISTMAS EATING TIPS:

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare.. You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day ?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips;
start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

(Clipart from www.karenswhimsey.com)

Hats off to...

So on Wednesday I had to go to a local fabric store to get one last piece of sew-in boning to finish the last awning for our Christmas drama. This was it. The last thing to be done to the set before I could dust off my hands and call it done.

And I had a whole hour while one of the kiddos was at a lesson. Plenty of time. Actually, it was the only time I had for this particular errand since the final dress rehearsal (I'm also in the choir and supplying one of the orphans) was in two hours and I still had to get back to repair the awning. Still, it shouldn't take long, right?

HA!

This store is one of the more frustrating stores I've ever been in (and that's not just at Christmas - they're frustrating all year long. And uniformly frustrating across the chain of stores they run). They are chronically understaffed, pretty random in their inventory and, to top things off, they recently renovated so NOTHING is in any sort of logical spot. They are also the only store with certain items within a 75 mile radius.

Quilt bat is completely across the store from the cottons, the notions are split up by function in three different areas, trim is assigned some sort of random class/function system so ribbon and cording do not live in the same neighborhood, and heaven help you if you're looking for boning. The new cutting table also has one of those "take-a-number" systems which, in theory, avoids confusion when there's a lot of people waiting but, in practice, means that people tend to wander off with their number clenched in their hot little hands and then they expect to cut in when they wander back to the table after being away for 20 minutes and are behind by 15 numbers.

Now I'm sounding a trifle testy, perhaps, but add to that the Christmas spirit that sometimes infects people at this time of year and you can see how it might spell some frustration.

So, suffice it to say, I stood in line at the cutting table for 50 minutes (with a person with TWO numbers cutting in ("I'll only be a second") that had to run back and forth because she couldn't decide on one ribbon) only to face an even longer line at the cashiers. Ackkk!

By now, my child is getting out in 5 minutes and they will charge me a minimum $10 fee for childcare if I'm late. That's way too much to have to pay for a $2.49 length of boning. I'm starting to eye the greenery thinking I could just stash my goods in there because, trust me, the staff doesn't tidy up so it should be safe there for a week or so, when the sweet white-haired lady behind me in line notices my furtive glances.

"Long line, isn't it?"

"Yes. " And then a little frustration (desperation?) leaks out. "I'm supposed to be picking up my child right now. Do you suppose they'd notice if I just stashed this somewhere for 10 minutes?" Sheepish laugh.

Without a word this sweet and tired-looking lady holds out her hand.

???

"Give it to me," she says. "Trust me, this line will still be here."

I hope I said out loud all the random grateful thoughts that ran through my mind at this moment. I handed over my bit and ran for the door. After managing to get there and back without running anyone over and within the 10 minutes, the line was gone and so was my sweet angel. But she'd left the boning at the counter for me so I could breeze right through. Without cutting in on anyone.

I told the cashier how helpful this person had been and her response was a very surprised sounding "Was this one of our staff?"

(Apparently I wouldn't be the only one surprised by helpful staff at this store.)

"It was a customer," I answered and she suddenly looked like she understood.

"That's nice," was her comment.

It was beyond nice. It was an act that ranked up with the angels appearing to the shepherds. I could hear the heavenly music and see the bright lights as my predicament lifted in a cloud of relief.

So today's it's HATS OFF to my angel lady in particular, but also to all the people that remember the spirit of kindness in this Christmas season.

You're invited

Remember way back when I talked about a Christmas photo session? Here's their final choice:


Being swamped in Christmas is about to come together. We had our first full drama run-through tonight, the sets are only needing some final details and the costumes are mostly together. It's going to be a great musical, the building looks fantastic and we're getting set to open Thursday evening of next week. It's been months of hard work on the part of a lot of people and I'm really quite excited about it.

This original play and musical is about two girls without a home - one in modern day and one in 1852 England - and the longing to have a home at Christmas. The very talented Rene' Phelps (director/scriptwriter) and Roger Hutley (scriptwriter/composer) have done an outstanding job in putting this story together. And as part of this drama any donations or offerings made through the play are going to support a new shelter for homeless teens in Medford. It's heartbreaking to know how many children and teens are homeless in our area and its been a long-felt dream of some people here to minister to these kids and provide them a safe place to live.

So, you are invited to join us for a entertaining evening of music and drama, but more than that, you're invited to be part of what we hope will be a life-changing event.

And for those of you that can't be here, I might even post a photo of me in my Dicken's costume. Maybe.

There's a blueberry on my window

Really - there is. Or to be perfectly correct, its on my windowsill.

I ordered some blueberry plants from an online nursery AGES ago (last spring, actually) and two arrived and are out in the yard deciding whether they like Oregon or not.

But two only arrived a couple weeks ago and because we were having a bit of a cold snap, I didn't want to put them straight outside. So I stuck them in the windowsill until I could figure out what to do with them.

And there they sat. I occasionally threw a little water their way but hadn't really made plans to transplant them yet. And suddenly, this is what I noticed...

They're blooming! Now I really can't put them outside. So I'm going to conduct my own little horticultural experiment and see if they actually produce any berries. I'd invite you over for pie but that might be being a little optimistic at this point.

I'll keep you posted though.

A new nickname

We just returned from celebrating Thanksgiving (American, obviously) with my sister and her family and had a delicious dinner, sampled some parks, chased some squirrels and had some fun times with Settlers of Catan/Seafarers of Catan - a game, I might mention, that my brother and his wife totally hooked us on. Just when you think you've got a strategy, the numbers go against you and, well, sometimes it's not pretty. But suffice it to say I actually WON once so life is good. (It's sort of like golfing that way.)

However, board-game triumph not withstanding, my favorite memory of the trip was a new nickname given to me by a preschooler. We'd been talking about fairies and costumes and magic and she decided I should have a new name and told me what it should be. At first I thought I might just be misunderstanding her but she was adamant.


So you may now all address me as...

"tinkerval"

Flying pigs

I have a collection of flying pigs. Ever since my first picture book (When Pigs Fly) was published, I have been building an odd assortment of flying pigs - some given to me, some I purchased, some wrangled out of unsuspecting people by enthusiastic friends. The collection ranges from clocks and blackboards to rubber stamps to jewelry and clothing. Some are hysterical, some adorable and some totally tacky.

So the other day, it caught my eye when Rick at Organized Doodles posted this gem:


Isn't he great?

Dentist shoes

I don't know what your dentist is like but in my experience they have always been male, usually wear those white lab coat things and and have a brisk sort of humor-you-through-the-chair attitude (except for the dental hygienist that used to come to my elementary school with the SERIOUS cigarette breath and no sense of humor. Maybe that's the reason I've been seeing male dentists lately...)

Anyways, I took my children to a new dentist the other day and she was - well - a she. Good - I thought. Maybe she'll be a little more realistic about the whole experience. I mean, it really can't be a fun job but a number of pediatric dentists I've encountered have zero flexibility on their policies about accompanying your child through the appointment. But before I go into a serious snit mode, just let me say that this dentist surprised me.

Why?

Well, my child and I had been chatting, the hygienist had done her thing and then I heard a "click, click, click" coming across the floor. So I looked over and saw...a pair of really cute strappy silver sandals (slides, if you want to be really accurate) and a toe ring.

Yep, that was the dentist.

So I may have immediately graduated to middle-aged old broad. She's cute, stylish and has a great sense of humor. She also seems to be a very competent dentist. But my first thought was "Sandals? It's November!" And the part that scared me the most was the "Young lady!" sort of tone that came in the middle of that thought.

Ack!!

I ran home and checked through my shoes for something not-too-old to wear to a meeting later that night. And sighed as I pulled on some warm socks and a pair of dress boots.

It's November, after all.

Title trouble

This is a blog that first appeared on my other blog but I know some of you that share my sense of humor will get a kick out of it anyways.

Or at least let out a refined snigger...

They say the title is one of the most important things you will ever write for your new manuscript - though probably the query letter still ranks a little higher. There are definitely some titles that catch the imagination or pique the curiosity. Some of my favorites include: How Are You Peeling?, Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type, A Bag Full of Nothing, Mr. Pinkerton Finds A Body, No More Dead Dogs, And God Created Squash, and the list goes on...

We'd been talking about titles in the residency I'm currently teaching (I'm done at the end of the week so will stop talking about it eventually) and doing some brainstorming about what should and shouldn't be in a title. Some kids had a snappy option right off the cuff, others just stared and shrugged. (I think I could tell which ones have more AR points.)

I got home with a head full of titles and then saw this sitting on my kitchen table:


Maybe it's just because I was hanging around with 9-year-olds but doesn't this strike you as possibly being an unfortunate choice? I can't imagine a parent walking into a book store and asking for the book "Things to Do with Pooh."

(Okay, actually I can. And I can also imagine the look on the staff member's face when they hear the request. I mean, if you didn't know it was connected to Disney's version of A.A. Milne's classic bear, what shelf would you start looking on?)

Needless to say, it's gotten some mileage around our house, and it's served as a caution to me too. Our titles need careful attention.

Not quite what I expected

So today I was teaching again in an art residency and it was a painting day (as opposed to a writing day or a sketching day or a "dummy" day). The students are usually pretty excited about it. We've done all sorts of water color techniques including the highly popular spattering.

But today, one child wasn't quite ready to enter in to the process. Instead he threw up.

Fortunately, it was only a few minutes to recess time, so the teacher rounded the class up and took them to the playground while a parent volunteer shepherded the poor child to the office and the custodian came in to clean up.

And there I sat, torn between a parental sympathy for the student and thinking "Wow - that wasn't the reaction I expected at all!"

Love the classics

The last couple nights have been full of tedious tasks like cutting large sheets of paper into smaller sheets of paper. Yeah, for this I have 10 years of post-secondary education.

To help me not notice how time is dragging, I like to throw in a favorite movie. I have a list you can see on my profile of some of the top-most-likely choices but tonight it's Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night's Dream as interpreted by Michelle Pfeiffer, Kevin Kline, Stanley Tucci, Calista Flockhart and the host of delightful actors they have together portray it. It's a pretty lush production and the fact that one of my favorite plays is being performed by some of my favorite actors mean it will continue to play over and over again at my house.

The only other performance I've seen to match it was when the Saskatoon Summer Shakespeare festival acted the play in traditional text but set in the 20s, Brooklyn accents, flapper costumes and all. It was marvelous!! And, of course, another great Shakespearian rendition is A&E's "Much Ado About Nothing." Tops them all, actually.

Anyways, it's back to my paper trimmer as Pyramus and Thisbe move once again to their prescribed fates...

I need a laugh :)

Just a flower...

Getting the day off

So, of course, tomorrow is Veteran's Day (or Remembrance Day if you're in my homeland). And also, of course, there is no school.

I appreciate that it is still a national holiday to honor those that have served (and still serve) to preserve our freedoms. So many holidays seem to have become a token acknowledgment of their origins. Or are only an excuse to take a long weekend because the actual holiday falls close to a Saturday or Sunday. It's an important thing to remember the sacrifices made on our behalf.

But there is a very tiny part of me that says, "Of course. Nobody told me." So now my kids have the day off and I didn't connect 1 + 1 to make 11 so I'm juggling my schedule again.

God bless our veterans who served so that my biggest problem tomorrow is having to have lunch with my kids.

Hats off to...

I was teaching again today and it was the end of the week and I was near the end of my energy. I'm feeling alright but still get that lead-boot feeling towards the end of the day. So while the students were out at recess, I readied the room for our next activity and then sat down ("plunked" might be more accurate) to rest a bit.

The host teacher walked in, I sat up straight and we chatted awhile. Very pleasant man that seems to really enjoy his work. Then he reached into his desk and asked "Would you like a cookie?"

Oh, okay.

It wasn't just a cookie. It was a small pack with TWO Harry and David's melt-in-your-mouth fruit-filled gallettes. I thanked him and as I was savoring the yummy confection, he went to collect his class. As he left, he tossed over his shoulder, "You looked like maybe you needed a pick-me-up."

I don't know which was sweeter: the cookie or the concern.

So today it's hats off to Mr. Snyder and everyone else that understands the value of a cookie.

Back in the saddle

Well, so much for being sick. Don't have time anymore.

Good thing I never found that sign because it's too late to use it. Today it was back to 3-4th grade classrooms for more art and literacy fun.

I actually had a great time today. In spite of the pouring rain, and stir-crazy classrooms, the fact that my supervisor came into the rowdiest class of the bunch to "observe", and the hassles of arranging several different arrival/dismissal times and putting more miles on my shoes in a single day that I usually do in a week, it was a good day.

Why?

Well, I got to paint. Sure, it was small squares of test patterns for the kids to model but it was paint and water and soggy paper towels and all the gear that go into making magic happen on paper. Masking tape and toothbrushes, too. A few water cups got dumped and a couple kids are going home with extra spots on their shirts but a few kids really got it and only 1 really didn't.

All things considered, I'm looking back thinking I'm pretty happy with this day.

It's just cool...

Still having pillow envy but thought I'd share this - my kids get all excited about it and it is pretty cool. It's amazing the places creativity jumps up...

Clip art I just don't need to see...

I went hunting today for some clipart to let you know that I wouldn't be posting today because I'm still sick. Not deathbed sick, but definitely want-my-bed sick. I was thinking maybe an "Out of the Office" sign or something like that.

I didn't exactly find what I was looking for.

I found clip art for hemorrhoids.

Not just a cutesy pic of someone sitting on a donut cushion or wincing dramatically when looking at a wooden chair - an actual cartoon (although anatomically complete) drawing of a hemorrhoid.

Now I really don't feel so good.

I think I'd better go lie down...

Go Fish - Mom song

So I'm at home doing a typical mom thing - I'm sick and I'm staying home to look after a sick kid who, incidentally, has a lot more energy than I do right now.

They never put that in the brochure.

Yesterday, I was healthy (or at least not smart enough to recognize the signs of impending misery) and spent the day on Christmas drama stuff - trying to organize seamstresses, painters and an art display. It was a full day and to keep us motivated the director put on a Christmas CD called "Snow".

All I can say is "WHY HAVEN'T I HEARD OF THIS BAND BEFORE?"

The group is called Go Fish. And in doing a little more digging, I came across one of their songs. Instant fan!!

A Fishy Story Indeed

This is something I wrote a while ago for a writing challenge. The theme was "What is character?"
__________

Character is what you are when no one is looking. It’s also what you are when it’s late and you just want to go to bed.

Several days ago, we picked up a 10-gallon fish tank. It was free and the ad read,

“Includes fish! Plus: tank, gravel, filters, heater, even a cute little thermometer. Fish are a catfish, a hiding shark-like thing, an eel-type thing (a loach?), and several orange striped fish...”

To transport the tank, we unloaded the tank water into various buckets while netting the fish into self-closing bags. But we couldn’t find the hiding shark-like thing. We drained some more water and re-searched the tank. Nothing. So we loaded up and brought the whole kit home.

It was late when I started reassembling the tank, but by eleven o’clock, I had almost finished. As my last task for the night I was standing at the sink, scrubbing a seashell when – PLOP - something slimy drops into my hand! I yelp, it slips through my fingers and my brain registers "shark-like thing?” just as it slides into the garbage disposal! Now what do I do? Do I look for it or do I run the disposal so it doesn't suffer?

But I’ve been told some amazing stories about fish survival so I leap into action. I can’t see into the disposal properly, so I start running around the house – I CAN’T FIND THE FLASHLIGHT!! Instead, I grab a decorative lamp shaped like Noah's Ark and pull the shade off of the 7w bulb.

Now how to reach the fish? After several faulty attempts, I grab a pair of aluminum tongs (the kind you see in salad bars) and start hunting. My progress is slow and every time I spot the fish and gingerly try to pick it up, it promptly panics and thrashes out of sight among the remains of a nice Alfredo casserole. At this point, I'm talking to the fish, sounding like a bad ER movie ("Stay with me now, we're gonna make it buddy"). And still at the back of my mind is the execution switch - just run the disposal and it will all be over and you won't even have to tell the kids.

But I can't do that. Where there's life, there's hope, right? I have to remove the fish’s hiding places. I grab some peas, some pasta, a piece of tomato, spinach, some more peas...and there’s the fish lying in the sink among the peas! Before he can slip away again, I scoop him into a spoon and whisk him over to the fish tank. Heart hammering, I hesitate a moment - Do I float him first? What about the temperature shock? Duh - he can't breath! - and in he goes.

The fish was in the drain for at least twenty minutes. But he is doing fine...except for a tendency to hide under a shell every time I come near the tank. Apparently he thinks I’m a suspicious character.


______________

Incidentally, it won the challenge. But the fish didn't seem impressed...

Hats Off to...

Today's heroes are crossing guards.

Now, when I went to school, I was a crossing guard. For my efforts I got a flag and a roller skating party at the end of the year with a damp McDonald's hamburger and a glass of their pseudo-orange drink thrown in. (I also got a kick in the pants but that's another story.) Of course, I also was on patrol at in intersection that had all of 4 cars pass through it on any given school week.

In my town, the crossing guards are adults. They get orange vests with yellow X's on them, a flag and/or stop sign, a whistle and a partner. They are also backed by flashing crossing lights, striped crossing zones painted on the road and a police van that regularly sets a speed trap in the school zone. (Okay, it's not really a trap because they also post a sign well before the school zone telling you they are ahead. So if you get caught, you really do deserve the ticket.)

I am eternally grateful to the crossing guards. They have phoned me when they have concerns about how my children ride their bikes on the very busy thoroughfare between our house and the school. They are out there at 7:15 every morning in rain, shine or chilly weather. They put up with the rude drivers and they still smile and have a joke for anyone willing to exchange pleasantries. They are unsung heroes for the parents like me that want to know our kids are as safe as possible getting to and from school. I owe them big time.

I have to figure out how to show that gratitude with something better than a soggy burger and a dye-loaded drink.

But for today, it's HATS OFF to crossing guards!

I found a head in my fridge

Yesterday I was seized with one of those rare (very rare) urges to clean out my fridge. I don't like to do it but sometimes a trail or a whiff or another alarming sign means its time to get out the protective gear and go in. And I really didn't think that yesterday could be so bad. When the inlaws came, we had obviously done a purge and that was only a few weeks ago, right?

So in I went.

I was cruising along until I reached (cue suspense soundtrack sequence and squeaking door audio) the vegetable drawer. You know - the climate controled area that by some weird fridge science is specifically adapted to pamper your peppers, cushion your cukes and keep your salad savory.

And in my defense, there was no funky odor, no trail of slime, no indication that something wasn't right. So I think my normally-reserved-for-suspected-snakes squeal was understandable when my hand touched something firm but slightly yielding...with black hair...about the size of a human head.

EEEEEEEKK!!!!

As I began to breath again - and to notice the bruise on my elbow from where I'd whacked it against the island when I jumped back - I realized that it was (or at least it used to be) a head of cauliflower. A moldy, black, didn't-know-it-could-ever-do-that cauliflower.

I don't mind cauliflower. In fact, I actually enjoy cauliflower. Add to that the undeniable health benefits of cauliflower and I get a little self-righteous glow every time I eat it. And my sister-in-law makes a fantastic salad that used chopped cauliflower, broccoli, cheese, bacon bits and ranch dressing. (It also makes a really great soup when she gets a little happy with the food processor.)

That must be what prompted me to buy the cauliflower in the first place. No one else in my house will eat it so I don't usually bother. I don't even remember buying this one. Do you suppose it was waiting in there to ambush my mother-in-law? Or to jump out and scare the oxidants out of my children? AAAAAH! MOM!! ZOMBIE VEGETABLES!

So I'm thinking - if you really want to scare kids tomorrow night (I'll be at a football game but you feel free to go ahead) forget the ghoul-faced pumpkins, keep the skeletons in the closet and cut back on the candy eyeballs.

You'll have better luck with the cauliflower.

I laugh every time...

Special Edition!

Since Sunday is our day of rest around here and since I spent the day w-rest-ling a bunch of dead garden plants out of the ground, I'm taking tonight to post a "special edition for writers" message...

I'm part of a fabulous group of writers called InScribe Christian Writer's Fellowship. On the listserve, we often toss around writing ideas and challenges and other prompts. So last week I issued a challenge to come up with the longest univocalic (it means using only one vowel) sentence my fellow writers could produce. And the winner is...

(Cue fanfare and confetti)

Diane Stephenson!

Here's her whopping wonder:

Let's never, ever remember pesky pests, fender benders, pens lent, cents spent, where we've never been; better we remember where we've been, letters we've been sent; better see the best, be the best, whether we've been tested, whether we've been bested, when we're rested let's remember pets we've petted, checker sets, pretty scenes we've seen; then whether we're here, whether we're there, even when needy we'll ever be blessed.

For you Type As out there, Diane honorable admitted there are two "y"s included but she also cut 10 words from this monster before submitting it. You can find out more about Diane on Facebook or on the Ryze network.

And my personal choice for an honorable mention is by another great writer, Mary Haskett. Perhaps not as long as some but beautiful nonetheless:

Meet me 'ere the glen,
Where the sleek tree bends,
Where the tree's evergreen
Never felt better.

Great job to all!! I can't even think of an appropriately univocalic accolade for you...

Don't forget to REset your clocks...

I have a new-fangled bell-and-whistles sort of clock.

Actually my husband has a new-fangled bells-and-whistles sort of clock. It has dual alarm settings, a static-prone radio and/or a beep guaranteed to skewer your cerebellum as it slumbers in REM sleep, big buttons and little buttons so you can randomly flail at it when your cerebellum convulses in primal self-preservation, huge numbers that are bright enough to guide in aircraft and even on the "dimmer" setting give the entire room an NVG-sort of hue, AND (here's where I think my husband got suckered by the marketing language on the box) it automatically adjusts in the spring and the fall for Daylight Savings Time. So no more sleeping in or wandering the house with an hour to spare when you forget to set the clock.

EXCEPT that the clock is above such things as governmental whims like changing the weekend that DST begins. Pshaw - says our clock - Fall is here, "Fall back" time it is. Kind of like the automatic house in the short story that keeps vacuuming and serving meals even after the nuclear bomb goes off, our clock disdains the changes ordained from above and sticks to its schedule.

Which means, of course, that we can't stick to ours.

Yesterday morning, I got up thinking it was 7 o'clock and thinking I had an hour to spare. I was just getting ready to hop into the shower when my husband came flying in. "It's 8:02!" he cries. "The clock got us again!"

Now my cousin has a clock. And she brags about her clock. It's reliable, she says. It hasn't let us down for over 20 years, she says. And as I frantically dressed and threw my hair into a braid, I planned the covert operation that would avoid her crazy cat, defeat the hazards of her sometimes party-littered floors and claim her clock as my DST loot.

Anyways, by 8:12 we were at our Sunday morning posts (DH, admittedly, looked much fresher than I did). It was another hour before I got to have that shower and actually start my day.

And we get to do it all again next weekend...

Lock the doors, cuz. I may be coming.

A Christmas sketch

No, no, it's not a script for a short dramatic scene. But between an art exhibit and a drama, I am caught (tangled, snarled, twisted, swamped) in Christmas. I listened to carols today while seamstresses worked their magic, framed some Christmas art, and even carried bags of fake snow around. All this on a gorgeous fall day!

So to finish the day I finally got inspired. (Took long enough.) There's a canvas that's been sitting in my studio, waiting patiently to become something fun and fabulous. I painted a border on last year sometime and then stalled there. Big time.

But I think I finally got it and tonight I drummed up a sketch of what I want.

Inspiring, isn't it?

Okay, maybe not yet but stay tuned and let's see if it becomes everything I want it to be. I'm actually irrationally excited about this candy cane.

Of course, that might have something to do with the combo of hot chocolate and Swiss chocolate that DH just brought me...

Hats off to...

As a freelance writer, I have to make a lot of phone calls. And often, the first person I talk to is a receptionist or secretary. Let's face it, we all know these are the people with the power. And they can make your day or break it.

There's one in particular, Lynn, that is my hero and angel. She's always pleasant, always helpful and just all in all a treasure trove of time and talent. Quick responses, helpful hints and all sort of visual and administrative talents. I haven't been able to stump her yet. She makes my job so much easier every time I talk to her and I'm sure she does the same for anyone that calls or comes through her office. So today it's hats off to...Lynn!!


(Okay, that's not quite what her hair looks like...and I strongly suspect she wears a halo at the office...but you get the idea.)

(Clipart courtesy of www.freeclipartnow.com)

Sometimes you gotta kiss a lot of...

A song in your heart or a tune in your head

I got a song stuck in my head today. It goes "Hm-hm-hm-hmmmm. Hm, hm, hmmm, hm, hm, hum, hmmmm..."

You know the one? It a beautiful song - way better than having "Da-da-DAH, Da-da-da-DUH..." rolling around in there all day.

Or the one "Hem, hum, hammmm..."

Or even "Bow-bow-BWAA, bum bu da DAH..." - although that's a great workout song.

And then there's the theme songs that won't go away "Di di Tah Tah Tee, Di Da Tee-a-lee..."

Oh, rats! Now I have THAT song in my head...

"Di di Tah Tah Tee..."

Don't throw tomatoes

I have a fabulous group of artist friends. And today I was able to drop in on their class and spend some time with them. This is the group that got me started in art and has kept me going with my art. I love them dearly. They are a talented and encouraging bunch led by the totally gifted Karen Cain-Smith.

So today, one of the amazing artists was setting up a still life but didn't quite have the color that she wanted in the apples she'd brought along. We tossed around some ideas and in the end she put a trail of tiny tomatoes from the snack table on the window sill. Aren't they phenomenal? When Amazing Woman finishes the piece I'll ask to post her finished artwork here with her perspective but I like this shot too. And I'm extra "invested" in it because these were the last tomatoes from my garden this year.

Now I'll be able to enjoy them all winter, too.

A spin on things

This is another email forwarded to me but it's totally cool so I'm going to see if I can get it working here on the blog. Is she turning?



Ackk!

She's not turning!

Okay, I don't have a clue why - SuperGeek is away and I can't figure it out - but you can check her out here instead.

The theory is, if you see this lady turning clockwise you are using your right brain. If you see it the other way (counterclockwise), you are using your left brain. If she's not turning at all, its because you're looking at my blog.

Some people do see both ways, but most people see it only one way. For me, she flip flops back and forth. She does for my DH too, but at different times. How cool is that?


Left Brain

Logical
Sequential
Rational
Analytical
Objective
Looks at parts

Right Brain

Random
Intuitive
Holistic
Synthesizing
Looks at wholes

"Most individuals have a distinct preference for one of
these styles of thinking. Some, however, are more
whole-brained and equally adept at both modes.
In general, schools tend to favor left-brain modes of
thinking, while downplaying the right-brain activities.
Left-brain scholastic subjects focus on logical thinking,
analysis, and accuracy. Right-brained subjects, on the
other hand, focus on aesthetics, feeling, and creativity."


Or maybe we just like to keep people guessing...

Starting the day off right...or not

Last night, I went to bed on time - a feat for me - and didn't set the alarm clock. I was sure I'd wake up in time to get ready for church OR I'd hear the young 'uns moving around the house in time OR - if none of those happened - I'd have had a REALLY great sleep.

But at some still-dark point, a ringing phone snapped me off my pillow. I peered at the clock by the bed.

6:00 am

As I reach for the phone, the usual range of thoughts ran through my mind:

a) It's bad news - Grandma did take a fall a few days ago and I haven't had an update lately.
b) There are other people I know that might be calling with bad news.
c) DH forgot about the time zone thing and is calling me to tell me some bad news before the first seminar starts. (He's a couple time zones away right now at a conference with a goofy name.)
d) Nope, he'd never make a mistake like that. It must be bad news and how will I let him know?

"Hello?" Well, at least I sound fairly conscious. I think.

"Hi, this is Jason. Who's this?"

Check the clock again. Still 6:00 am. I'm not telling anyone my name at 6 am.

"Um." (Perhaps not as conscious as I thought.) "Um, Jason who?"

"Is this joyful living?"

Great. Now he's not even talking English.

"I beg your pardon?" (Slightly better than "Huh?")

"Isn't this Joyful Living?"

Not at this time of day its not.

"No, I'm sorry it's not."

"Oh. Sorry to have woken you up then."

He doesn't sound sorry to me. But it's too late now anyways.

"Okay."

"Bye." Click.

6:01 am.

I guess my day just started...

It's finally fall...

Hats off to...

A friend emailed this to me. Tragic but true...

Bear Attack in Churchill, Manitoba, Canada.

These are pictures of an actual polar bear attack in Churchill.

These pictures were taken while people watched and could do nothing to stop the attack!

Reports from the local newspaper say that the victim will make a full recovery.

The photos are below.

WARNING: ACTUAL PHOTOS OF BEAR ATTACK!

Today, it's Hats Off to friends that forward FUNNY! (Only when its really funny though.)

No More Dead Dogs

Relax, it's a book title.

One of my bookworms brought home a book that made me wonder if I needed to start monitoring the reading lists a little more closely. The cover alone was enough to raise an eyebrow and the synopsis I was given was "like, there's this guy that always tells the truth but it gets him in trouble so he hangs out with the drama club and changes everything. And the teacher writes memos."

Isn't that enough to pique your curiosity?

So I was up way to late last night reading "No More Dead Dogs" by Gordon Korman. I didn't mean to - it was late and I needed sleep and I thought "I'll just glance through it."

Famous last words.

"I knew Old Shep was going to die before I started page one," I said.

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Mr. Fogelman. "How?"

I shrugged. "Because the dog always dies. Go to the library and pick out a book with an award sticker and a dog on the cover. Trust me, that dog is going down."

What a great read! It was completely worth the dark circles under the eyes this morning. I'm only surprised that there's no award sticker on the front of this book (SPOILER ALERT!) 'cause the dog doesn't make it...but you'll have to read it to figure out why that's okay. It's actually even quite funny.


(You can click on the cover to see more reviews, etc at Amazon if you're curious now too.)

Christmas?!!?

First let me say there's a potty-mouth warning today. I don't use profanity (unless Mom was right about that whole tone-of-voice/intention thing) but sometimes someone else has said it too well. And this one hit the nail on the head. Thanks, Rick, for sharing.

As I mentioned earlier, I am involved in a Christmas musical and mostly have kept it to background matters - literally and figuratively. I agreed to paint sets and was doing the photos for the poster and am in the choir. So far so good. Besides, I'm assembling a fine art exhibit that will be happening next month (stay tuned) and have a three-week art residency starting in a couple weeks at an area school.

But then a couple key people had to back out or cut back and it just happens to be in areas that I have a great deal of experience.

Nuts.

I'm happy to help but this week it's started to feel like a race to see whether the director or I end up developing a nervous tic first. Dickens in detox, that's us.

Does anyone else have this reaction to Christmas?

A couple more hike photos...

Check out "Hiking Roxy Ann" for more photos

Happy Thanksgiving, eh?

For those of you in Canada, Happy Thanksgiving!!










For those of you still looking ahead to Thanksgiving in the US, get in shape - turkeys run faster than you think!








(Clipart courtesy of FreeClipartNow.com)

At least it's digital...

I was going through some of my hike photos and being thankful (once again) for digital cameras. It reminded me of this great video a friend had on her blog. If I can figure out how I'll post it here for you too.




Hmm - that wasn't too hard!

Hiking Roxy Ann

Today we (in-laws, DH, young 'uns and I) hiked Roxy Ann, a mountain peak that has been standing outside my front door for over 7 years. It's probably been standing there a lot longer than that but my front door hasn't.

It's an interesting climb - the trail to the summit is about 1.5 miles but you gain well over 1000 feet in elevation as you hike to the top. And if you take the trail that SAYS its the way to the summit, it's closer to 3 miles to the top. It took us about 2 1/2 hours to hike 3 miles up and 1.5 miles back (by a shorter and more scenic trail) and even on a sunny day, the temps varied depending which side of the peak you were on. Mount Shasta, Mount Ashland and Mount McLaughlin in the distance all had coverings of frost and snow and the wind blowing in from them was brisk. The last stretch to the top was steep enough I wasn't sure my legs would make it and my ears popped a few times as we reached the 3500+-feet-above-sea-level summit. Yep, I'm a wimp but it was a beautiful afternoon.

I'll post photos from the hike later but for tonight I'm really quite tired...



Added 10/14/08...

The peak (from the beginning of the trail) -

The peak (from about the middle of the trail) -
The views...

Hats Off to...

You may remember that my in-laws were coming to visit and it has been great to have them here. But apparently today they were done relaxing.

And by some coincidence, I had a number of undone projects around the house. My MIL pulled weeds and battled rosebushes for the afternoon and completely filled the yard bin. My FIL painted the bit of hallway that has been hovering in a multi-colored testimony to the before and after sections of the addition we put on our house last summer. He also replaced a light fixture, a dud light switch and lit the pilot light on my fireplace. My MIL is threatening to sort out my youngest's room - a daunting task at best. I worked alongside too (honest) and I am feeling months ahead of myself just because they were willing to pitch in for a day.

On top of their hands-on support for the projects, they are hands-on grandparents as well. They've played and joked and walked and teased and created their Miis and generally spoiled the young 'uns rotten. Aren't they great?

So today it's Hats Off to the inlaws!