Saturday, June 30, 2012

SSS TURBULENCE

Welcome to Saturday Scavenger Shots Game!
Our word this week :

TURBULENCE


And what a fun word!
If you asked me what this word meant...
I'd say that turbulence happens when
two forces collide...
or it is a disturbance in air or water.


Turbulence is what you feel on an airplane
when it bumps or dips...
giving you that "ut-oh" feeling...
a sort of inner TURBULENCE...


But it can also be the thing that 
tickles through your hair on a windy day.

Isn't he a good sport?

Water TURBULENCE is what makes
the rivers pretty when water crashes into rocks.

 Or
when waves crash against the shore.

 TURBULENCE can be pretty cool.


However...

    Social TURBULENCE is not so cool.

And 
 the degree of tropical storms that writhe
and boil with TURBULENCE is
down right frightening!

Check out this pic at flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomd77/7451908072/
Yikes! 


I hope you all are having a wonderful
and "scary TURBULENCE" free weekend.
=:] 

 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

RAH, RAH, WRONG

(Borrowed from Facebook.)


 I learned a strange thing.
According to a study
(Possibly sponsored by any one of the "buy a box" diet centers
or diet clubs.)



People lose weight more successfully...
 if they lose in a group or buddy system.
Hummmm....



I know a support system can be helpful.
But I tried Weight Watchers once upon a time
and it was an unhappy experience.
Everyone was sooooo nice and supportive.
But I do not like to be weighed in front of others.
I really dislike standing in front of people and talking about 
what does or doesn't help me.
It embarrassed me when other people clapped for my efforts.
And my family hated the recipes.
I hated eating something other than what my family ate. 



I am a socially retarded.
Truly and sincerely.
I understand the process.
Most people enjoy being part of a club,
gathering together, eating together
and sharing ideas.



I like those things!
Except the club part.
And the having a focus/goal in common part.
I do not want to compete with anyone
or to compete as a team.
(rah! rah! rah!)
I am not doing this to win anything.
Not even accolades.
I am not trying to regain my self esteem.
I am not looking for confidants.


 
I am doing this to live longer and feel better.
The amount of time it takes me does not matter...
because there is no temporary diet here.
No starting point and no stopping point.
This is my life now... until it ends.
Like breathing.


 
The more I thought about it...
there has always been a "buddy" system at work in my life.
Its called family and friends.
I've always got C4C and the man...
and all those kids I created.
So I guess they were right after all.


I am much more like that photo up there...
not needing to be one group or the other.
I'll just make my life fun out of what's available.
=:]







Monday, June 25, 2012

NOT MUCH OF ANYTHING HERE

This picture has nothing what so ever to do with anything other than
 it makes me laugh.
This is my youngest son, Squeaky, mid- head shave.
I really miss how amusing my children are on a daily basis.
Oh my.


Honestly...
I must be one of the most boring people on the face of the earth!
There is not much of anything to tell you folks.
I am currently spending most of my time weeding.
Again.


On the job front...
I have two possibilities pending.
Both are jobs that I would truly love to have.
Both would be total irony in action if I did get one.
I do love irony.
The Bear and Turkey will be here just for the day on Friday.
I can hardly wait!
I will be driving them to the train.
They are going to Cali to meet Mikey P.
I get to keep her new car.
Ever watched "Race Rabbit" ?
(Rabbit racer car driver and spy!)
hee hee
=;]
The man works all week this week...
which is totally normal.
However...
at the end of this week...
he's off until July 9th.
Not a paid vacation though.
=:[ 
Money will be tight the following check...
which won't hit us until 2 weeks afterwords.


Still it will be nice to have the man around the house...
on a day shift like me again.
(Even if it is only for a week.)
I'm thinking fishing!
But the reality is likely to be yard work.
Sigh.
That's the trouble with a big lot like this.
So much work.
Now I must get back to my weeding.



Tuesday, June 19, 2012

MY GIFT

(Randy and Olivia with part of Sukey and the top of Robert's head)

Today is the man's birthday!

He's a bazillion years old...
(I am a bazillion and four years old)

I remember telling Bear that he has "such pretty teeth" 
when I met him.
This was before I found out he bought his teeth...
in which case there is no reason that they should not be pretty.
So much for first impressions huh?

I commented to him that he was a bazillion and one today.
He said
"No I'm not."
I swear to you that he was a bazillion this time last year!
Then I did the math.
Sigh.
He's only a bazillion.

I decided that I would get him a black "Ducks" hat.
He's been grumping about not having one.
He has yellow ones and white ones and even green ones.
There are never enough hats.
Probably because there isn't enough hair!
Ha!
That was kind of mean.
(Hanging head in shame... but giggling.)
We celebrated with cake made on Father's Day...
because two people cannot eat a 13x9 " cake in two days time.
(I made his favorite German Chocolate.)
Do you know that to make the pecan frosting costs about
$9 bucks these days?
Yikes!
This morning I made him stuffed orange bell peppers...
with broiled brown sugared yams...
and fresh green beans.
Its his all time favorite meal that I make.


Then, because he works graveyard shift...
we watched an episode of his show
"Crusade" which is a spin-off of Babylon 5...
after he had stuffed himself...
which of course made him fall asleep on the sofa.
Eventually I woke him up
and off he went to bed,
a happy man.
The rest of my day was spent weeding
and walking.
And thinking about how glad I am that I found the man.
I can no longer imagine life without him.
My kids love him.
As you can see in the photo...
my grand kids love him too.
I can't help but think that I'm the one who got a gift. 


Here's to many more beyond a bazillion!
=:]



Monday, June 18, 2012

 By now most of you have heard about this...
 Kindergarten Teacher in Trouble for Ordering Students to Hit ...
I have sort of mixed feelings on this issue.
For one, I have worked in a school.
It can be a very frustrating place.


But there is another reason that I am feeling unsure of this one.
Long ago when I was a child in the 6th grade,
I had a similar experience.
My teacher sat me between the Dillinger brothers;
Bobby and Richard.
Bobby was handsome and I thought he was wonderful.
Richard, his twin was not handsome.
He was an awful brat that bugged everyone.

If he wasn't pulling my hair,
he was knocking the heels of my shoes off...
or poking me with a pencil...
or heaven help me...
blowing on the back of my neck...
or any number of other annoying activities.

He drove me crazy.
My teacher did not fail to notice this.
All day long she would tell Richard to leave me alone.
She made him stand in the hall.
She made him stay in at recess.
She made him write on the chalk board
"I will not..."
Nothing seemed to work.

It was her habit to read to us after lunch and recess.
We could put our heads down on the desk and listen...
or nap if we wished.
It was a quiet time designed to calm us back down after being wound up.
I loved to listen.
I loved the books she read...
"The Black Stallion" series.

One day as she read, Richard began to play with the collar of my shirt...
like he was going to pull down my zipper...
and tug at my hair.
I tried to ignore him for as long as possible.
"Stop it Richard!"
I hissed over my shoulder.
He blew on my neck.

"Rebecca!  I want you to stand up right this minute."
the teacher snapped.
I thought that I was in trouble for talking...
which was not at all unusual.
But when I stood up, she instructed me to turn around and KICK
 Richard as hard as I could in the shin.

I hesitated.
Kicking was not generally allowed.
I gave him a tentative bump on the leg.
"Harder."
she ordered.
This went on for about three more times...
until Richard said "Ow!"
"You may sit down now Rebecca. Thank you."
I sat and she picked up her place in the book 
and read uninterrupted until the end of the chapter.

The class had loved the display.
They began to giggle with the first kick 
and howled with laughter when Richard said
"Ow!"
I could hear kids talking about it when the bell rang
as we all left for home that day.
Even my dad laughed when I told the family about it at diner.

Did Richard stop bugging me in class?
Yes.
Bobby told me that his dad had been mad enough about it to give Richard a 
switching for being a pest in class.

Its been an amusing story that I enjoy telling over the years.
Was that child abuse?
Was Richard damaged by the experience?
Last I heard he was doing fine.
Was I affected?
In a funny way I was.
I was both startled and pleased that it had happened.
I had wanted to do something like that to Richard for a long, long time.
But there was no lesson about being empowered in it for me.
Just amusement.

After 6th grade ended...
the Dillinger brothers and I parted company to attend
different schools.
I have no idea if Richard learned to stop picking on everyone.
All I know is that the last couple of months of that school year,
were blissfully pest free.

So did this teacher step over the line?
Of course there is a big difference between
6th grade and kindergarten.
And there is something particularly shameful
about bein g slapped in the face.
I would like to think that I would never do that myself...
but I did kick Richard and enjoyed doing it.
Hummmm...


Wednesday, June 13, 2012

UGLY

It came from a yard sale and was the inspiration for a collection.
Imagine my surprise when Fletcher handed me the box.
It was heavy.
I scrabbled through the paper and out came this fellow!
Behind me X spoke.
"What the hell is that!"
 
 
My response was to laugh myself to tears.
The weekend before, Fletcher and I had spent a day at yard sales 
and the flea market.
As we walked along, we joked about the crazy things
people sell and questioned why they would have gotten them in the first place.
The Cook Island carved man was the object that we had riddiculed the most. 
We decided that the only reason that one would have such a carving,
was, if one had gotten it as a gift...
from a relative who would surely look to see it on display...
forcing one to keep it until that relative moved or passed away.
Therefore, it got our vote as the least likely thing we would ever own.


Now in defense of the above pictured fine example of 
Cook Island folk art...
we were just joking around.
We had been inspired by a coworker who complained constantly 
about everything being ugly or useless.
Her negativity had been driving us bats for weeks.
So we took on an exaggerated version of her persona for giggles
as we strolled through the flea market.
 
 
Fletcher and I both began to collect ugly things for each other...
and ourselves.
 
 
This fellow is my very favorite ugly thing!
He's a "Billiken"...
"The God of things as they ought to be" .
To have one is reputed to be good luck.
He's also the mascot of St. Louis U.
His story is pretty interesting if you care to cruise the net:
 
Billiken - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

http://churchofgoodluck.com

Yes, there is indeed a Church of Good Luck!
Not to be confused with the Church of Elvis in Portland, Or.
Or the Church of Bob, both of which crack me up.
I know, I'm easily amused.


I have strayed from the path.
 
 
For years my "ugly" wooden man stood on my balcony.
I named him appropriately; 
Woody.
Then I moved up north and settled him on my front porch...
in a small alcove right next to the front door...
in the hopes that he would frighten off salesmen.
That was the joke anyway.


Then X's mom came to live with us for a few years.
The first time she looked at him she said
"Eh-Hem!"
This was the sound she made when feeling uncomfortable...
such as when people swear or there is kissing on TV.
Clearly Woody's lack of pants disturbed her.


Soon after I came home and found that Woody had taken a hike!
I asked the kids if they knew where he went.
"Huh?  He's gone?"
I began to feel suspicious.
Things had mysteriously vanished in the past when
X's mom was around.
 
 
 
"He's too disturbing to have by the front door.
My friends will see him.
Its embarrassing." 
she said.
I could see that it really bothered her.
She did not have my sense of humor and likely as not,
she was right and her friends would not get it.
Okay...
Woody was banished to the back yard patio.
I could make that concession.
She was not going to live with us forever.


Poor Woody.
Items would be piled in front of him so that he could not be seen.
I put those things away.
Repeatedly.
A plant was placed next to him and obscured his personal area.
This I truly found funny but harmless enough.



Then one day he was gone like shoe skate keys.
 
( I have one of those in my collection of uglies too.)
 
No more Woody!
Eventually she confessed that she had thrown him out with the garbage...
to which I said a loud
"Eh-Hem!"
but nothing else.
 
 
 
Fletcher gave me lots of ugly things in the four years
that we lived in the same town.
He was the guy that started my ugly collection...
which has given me much pleasure over the years...
and all my ugly treasures remind me of Fletcher.
Who I refer to as my "ugly friend"...
He says that always makes him smile.


Is there anything you collect?
Is it a serious collection?
I have trouble being serious sometimes.
I also collect wind up toys...
though my old basset chewed up a lot of my best ones.
Eventually I'll re-collect them.
 
=:]

 









 


 

Monday, June 11, 2012

PASSING THE TORTURE TEST

(Picture courtesy of  http://www.museumoftheweird.com )


 
Up I hopped this morning bright and bushy tailed...
fangs flogged and flossed...
and off I scrambled to the new dentist.
Because I am so good at getting lost, I went early.
Which of course meant that I found my way there far more quickly than I imagined I would and ended up sitting in the parking lot.
Better early than late.


There is not much of a tale here.
Fairly standard stuff...
writer's cramp from the paper work and "dental history".
Then I was escorted to my dental chair...
where I was asked a few questions...
then escorted to the x ray room...
where a strange machine circled my head and shot
death rays into my face.
On to another x ray room where individual
teeth were zapped.


One thing about x rays and machines that I do enjoy are the lead aprons.
There is something very comforting about the weight of that
apron pressing against me...
that has nothing at all to do with protection from death rays.
Kind of like being tucked in as a kid.


Back in my dental chair a very nice and funny...
which was good because my mouth was occupied
with strange instruments that only allow minor laughing,
but no actual communication...
lady began to clean my teeth.
They were picked, scraped and strip mined with pressured water.
Then polished and painted with some foul tasting fluoride goop.
She was very nice about it all and said that my teeth were very clean.


Then she began to call out things to an assistant.
Strange words and numbers that meant nothing at all to me
but sounded like it might be bad.
I was scoring threes and fours...
tooth by tooth.
If I was taking a spelling test, then it was very sad news.
When she announced that we were all done,
I hopped to my feet...
and was gently pushed back into my chair.


She was not the dentist.
Silly me!
They dropped my head below my feet.
It is an odd position to be in when one is introduced to
an upside down dentist.
Or at least he looked that way from my vantage point.
He read my test scores and decided that I was doing ok.
I would need two fillings.
(I knew this because two had fallen out.)



He promised to fix the tooth I chipped a long time ago...
while escaping three white malamutes who wanted to chew on me.
A four foot something girl does not easily jump
a six foot  brick fence... even in Red Ball Jets.
Its not much of a chip, 
and no other dentist has ever offered to fix it.
But we were making a dental "treatment plan"
and it looks better if there is a lot of stuff to fix in that box.


He seemed very intent on causing me pain.
He didn't cause any.
Not the ice water torture or the cold air torture worked.
Ha!
None of my nerves are exposed!
Take that Marathon Man Dentist!


Then he let the air out of my chair
and my head floated back up to where it belongs.
He shook my hand and left.
I don't think I ever saw what was under his mask.
Oh well.


They gave me goodies from the treasure chest because I had been good.
I got a new toothbrush with my dentistal group's name on it
(No doubt to give those looky-loos who peek into my medicine cabinet 
a quicky advertizement.)
and some minty floss.
I never grew out of that little treasure chest thrill.
But I do miss the days of gum or candy being in there.
Kind of like people who give out sugar free gum at Halloween.
Its nice for certain, but darn... I miss the chocolate.



I got home and gritted my teeth at the man.
He gave me his best "you have bumped your head again" look.


"My teeth are squeaky clean!
See?  Its safe to kiss me!"


He laughed.
"Silly rabbit!"
Then he did.