Word of the Day
Diarhea - Two-headed South American ostrich-like flightless bird.
Six pints of green beans and still need to peel and can tomatoes. I won't even go into the fact that I really should go out and pick more green beans and tomatoes. Today has been spent catching up on what needs to be done.
Sweater Project Update: I'm finishing up the side button bands (no buttonholes or buttons...so I guess I should call them bands.) I'll start on the pockets next.
All the above was being done while Fox News showed the horrible events that have followed Hurricane Katrina.
Day Two-A Gambler's Tale
We all met for breakfast. Although we were hoping to surprise HTP with a visit from our youngest daughter and his husband, I think he began to suspect when he intercepted a phone message in our room. Oh well. We met for breakfast. Thankfully, they were able to find a table for the seven of us. Wonderful! Breakfast was comped so we ate our fill. After a long breakfast with tales that caught us all up on what everyone had been doing, we all returned to our varied activities. HTP and I arranged to meet our daughter and her husband at a Mexican restaurant for supper.
In keeping with a theme, I discovered a new beer. New to me. Sol. When I asked for a Corona, I was told that they didn't have Corona, "Did I want to try a Sol?". Sure, why not. It was pretty good. Not bad at all. It did strike me as rather funny whenever I asked for another Sol because a pun using Soul and Sol came to mind. "I lost my soul, can you bring me another?" I wonder how many souls I consumed during my stay in Laughlin.
The Mexican Restaurant wasn't all that good. The salsa was awful and the chimichanga wasn't anything to brag about. We did wash it all down with two pitchers of margaritas so it wasn't a total loss.
Gambling on Day Two? Nothing. I mean NOTHING was gained except points which I used to get a free alarm clock with calculator. Interesting little item. Why would someone need a calculator that has a built in alarm clock? Oh...and I got two manicure kits too. Stay tuned for Day Three- A Gambler's Tale in tomorrow's blog.
Murphyism of the Day
Lord Balfour's Contention
Nothing matters very much, and very few things matter at all.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Word of the Day
Dextrosity - Ability to move your fingers quickly and accurately
OK. As promised, I'm making up for the blogs that I couldn't create whilst in Laughlin. But...I still have to catch up on things around here in Wisconsin so blogging wasn't top on the priority list today. I picked and prepped the green beans from my garden. I picked all my ripe tomatoes. I still need to can both the green beans and the tomatoes. Next. Laundry. Dirty clothes happen and in turn must be washed. #1 son is heading off to college next weekend so there's lots of clothes that need washing. I'm still working on cleaning up the kitchen. #1 son loves to cook and he did while we were away. #1 son doesn't like to clean.
Laughlin - A Gambler's Tale - Day One
Upon arriving at our destination, The Riverside Casino, HTP went to find out what happened to the motorized wheel chair that he reserved for his Mom's use during our stay. I stood in line to get our room keys and our welcome packets. HTP's Aunt got her stuff and headed off. I got HTP's and my room keys and packet and HTP's Dad got their room keys and packet. We found an available seat and waited for HTP. We waited. We waited.
As I said, HTP went off to find his Mom's reserved motorized wheel chair. He head off from the south side of the casino (that's where we came in and were waiting) and headed toward the north side of the casino. On the way he came across an office belonging to the casino hosts. He entered and asked them about the wheel chair. They directed him to the north end of the casino, outside, by the valet's desk. He continued on to the valet's desk on the very north side of the casino. There were wheel chairs there but none were motorized. Upon inquiry, the valet told HTP that if he wanted a motorized wheel chair, he'd have to talk to a casino host or hostess. HTP turned around and headed back south toward the host's office. Again he talked to a hostess, explaining that he'd called weeks ago to reserve a motorized wheel chair. "Oh...you mean a scooter! We don't have those but there is someone who rents them here. They aren't here right now." What!? After some discussion, the hostess agreed to have someone bring a "scooter" to the host's office and then HTP could drive it over to where his Mom and the rest of us were waiting. "I'm not driving that thing!" was HTP's reply. OK. They agreed to bring the "scooter" over to where we all were waiting by the south entrance. HTP returned to the south entrance and we all sat and waited. Five minutes later a security guard came over. My secret thought was that HTP had made someone mad but such was not the case. She wanted HTP's driver's license (still can't figure out why but...whatever). She disappeared with his driver's license and we continued to wait. Then, across the casino, we could see two security guards enroute to our location. One was driving a "scooter", the other was walking. While HTP filled out the proper rental paperwork and paid for three days of "scooter" rental, one of the security guards explained the workings and use of the scooter to HTP's Mom. Meanwhile, HTP's Mom really wasn't listening because she wasn't happy that HTP was spending good money for a "scooter" when a regular wheel chair was FREE. Sigh. She got the "scooter" despite all her arguments, and we headed up to our room. HTP and I were exhausted!
After getting HTP's folks all settled into their room and after recovering somewhat, we all agreed to meet back in the room at 6 PM. Did I tell you that despite all the hassles, it was only 9 AM when we got to the hotel? It was 10:30 AM by the time we got to our room.
In the meantime, I was concerned because my youngest daughter and her husband were going to be staying at the hotel too as a surprise to HTP. I'd arranged it but I couldn't figure out when they were coming. In between losing money at the machines, I would check at the hotel desk to see if they'd arrived. They hadn't. I kept checking. I kept losing money. And then...
I got a Royal Flush! Woohoo! Do a little dance! Money ahead. I took my money and ran....OK. I didn't run. I kept playing and having fun. Still no sign of our daughter or her husband.
We met back in the room where we decided that we were going to use the hotel's offer of 50 points on the player's card for a prime rib dinner. I knew I had 50 points. HTP had managed to rack up 50 points of play. We all got our prime rib dinner comped. Hey! It was good. The restaurant was kind of like a combination of a buffet and a restaurant. The salad and the potatoes and sides were served buffet-style. The prime rib was carved for you at your table. Kinda neat.
After supper, we all returned to our gambling. I returned to my favorite machines. Any machine can become my favorite if it gives me a Royal Flush. I stayed there until my daughter and her husband found me! They were there. I knew that they were there because I'd checked repeatedly at the desk and finally found that they'd checked in. I called their room but got no answer. So, I wandered the casino until I finally gave up the search. They found me. Apparently, they'd arrived at 6 AM and had been searching for us. Oh well. I arranged that they should meet HTP and me at our room for breakfast on Day Two-A Gambler's Tale. Stay tuned for the next installment in tomorrow's blog.
Murphy's Law
Perlsweig's Law
Whatever goes around, comes around.
Dextrosity - Ability to move your fingers quickly and accurately
OK. As promised, I'm making up for the blogs that I couldn't create whilst in Laughlin. But...I still have to catch up on things around here in Wisconsin so blogging wasn't top on the priority list today. I picked and prepped the green beans from my garden. I picked all my ripe tomatoes. I still need to can both the green beans and the tomatoes. Next. Laundry. Dirty clothes happen and in turn must be washed. #1 son is heading off to college next weekend so there's lots of clothes that need washing. I'm still working on cleaning up the kitchen. #1 son loves to cook and he did while we were away. #1 son doesn't like to clean.
Laughlin - A Gambler's Tale - Day One
Upon arriving at our destination, The Riverside Casino, HTP went to find out what happened to the motorized wheel chair that he reserved for his Mom's use during our stay. I stood in line to get our room keys and our welcome packets. HTP's Aunt got her stuff and headed off. I got HTP's and my room keys and packet and HTP's Dad got their room keys and packet. We found an available seat and waited for HTP. We waited. We waited.
As I said, HTP went off to find his Mom's reserved motorized wheel chair. He head off from the south side of the casino (that's where we came in and were waiting) and headed toward the north side of the casino. On the way he came across an office belonging to the casino hosts. He entered and asked them about the wheel chair. They directed him to the north end of the casino, outside, by the valet's desk. He continued on to the valet's desk on the very north side of the casino. There were wheel chairs there but none were motorized. Upon inquiry, the valet told HTP that if he wanted a motorized wheel chair, he'd have to talk to a casino host or hostess. HTP turned around and headed back south toward the host's office. Again he talked to a hostess, explaining that he'd called weeks ago to reserve a motorized wheel chair. "Oh...you mean a scooter! We don't have those but there is someone who rents them here. They aren't here right now." What!? After some discussion, the hostess agreed to have someone bring a "scooter" to the host's office and then HTP could drive it over to where his Mom and the rest of us were waiting. "I'm not driving that thing!" was HTP's reply. OK. They agreed to bring the "scooter" over to where we all were waiting by the south entrance. HTP returned to the south entrance and we all sat and waited. Five minutes later a security guard came over. My secret thought was that HTP had made someone mad but such was not the case. She wanted HTP's driver's license (still can't figure out why but...whatever). She disappeared with his driver's license and we continued to wait. Then, across the casino, we could see two security guards enroute to our location. One was driving a "scooter", the other was walking. While HTP filled out the proper rental paperwork and paid for three days of "scooter" rental, one of the security guards explained the workings and use of the scooter to HTP's Mom. Meanwhile, HTP's Mom really wasn't listening because she wasn't happy that HTP was spending good money for a "scooter" when a regular wheel chair was FREE. Sigh. She got the "scooter" despite all her arguments, and we headed up to our room. HTP and I were exhausted!
After getting HTP's folks all settled into their room and after recovering somewhat, we all agreed to meet back in the room at 6 PM. Did I tell you that despite all the hassles, it was only 9 AM when we got to the hotel? It was 10:30 AM by the time we got to our room.
In the meantime, I was concerned because my youngest daughter and her husband were going to be staying at the hotel too as a surprise to HTP. I'd arranged it but I couldn't figure out when they were coming. In between losing money at the machines, I would check at the hotel desk to see if they'd arrived. They hadn't. I kept checking. I kept losing money. And then...
I got a Royal Flush! Woohoo! Do a little dance! Money ahead. I took my money and ran....OK. I didn't run. I kept playing and having fun. Still no sign of our daughter or her husband.
We met back in the room where we decided that we were going to use the hotel's offer of 50 points on the player's card for a prime rib dinner. I knew I had 50 points. HTP had managed to rack up 50 points of play. We all got our prime rib dinner comped. Hey! It was good. The restaurant was kind of like a combination of a buffet and a restaurant. The salad and the potatoes and sides were served buffet-style. The prime rib was carved for you at your table. Kinda neat.
After supper, we all returned to our gambling. I returned to my favorite machines. Any machine can become my favorite if it gives me a Royal Flush. I stayed there until my daughter and her husband found me! They were there. I knew that they were there because I'd checked repeatedly at the desk and finally found that they'd checked in. I called their room but got no answer. So, I wandered the casino until I finally gave up the search. They found me. Apparently, they'd arrived at 6 AM and had been searching for us. Oh well. I arranged that they should meet HTP and me at our room for breakfast on Day Two-A Gambler's Tale. Stay tuned for the next installment in tomorrow's blog.
Murphy's Law
Perlsweig's Law
Whatever goes around, comes around.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Word of the Day
Dexlexia - A condition that causes the transposition of letters in words while typing.
I'm Back! I have an excuse for not blogging. We did have our laptop with us but the dial-up speed in our room was so dead slow that we spent what felt like endless time downloading our mail. The hotel charged us for each time we used the phone. And...the server kept hanging up on us. We ended up having to work offline and then work as fast as we could when we were online because it wasn't long before we were disconnected. Needless to say, not much time was spent on the laptop. I'll try to catch you up on the events of the previous days.
Day One--The Flight to Laughlin
HTP and I left on Wednesday for The Big City. We spent the night at a Day's Inn. Our wake up call was for 2:30 AM. As we checked out at 3 AM, I grabbed a couple of donuts from the hotel breakfast room. Although the hotel's continental breakfast isn't served until 5 AM, there were a few leftover donuts sitting in bins by the coffee pots. We didn't have time for coffee but it didn't take long to snag some donuts which we ate on the run to pick up HTP's folks and his Aunt.
I'm not really clear on the times after that. We loaded the luggage into Ye Ole Buick. Shock! It all fit. Really! It did. HTP had brought a bungy cord for the just in case scenario but there wasn't a problem. We got to the airport at ?...but not a big deal because we weren't late. HTP dropped us off by the curb while he parked the car and we dragged our bags into the line that was forming by the ticket counter. We were supposed to arrive at the airport at 4 AM. The ticket counter didn't open until 4:30 AM. Tom's Mom found a seat along with Tom's Aunt and I remained in line along with Tom's Dad and the luggage. We were actually the third and fourth people in line. The conversations commenced. First topic? Why did they make us get here so early if no-one was going to be here to check us in?
At 4:30 AM, we were checked in and a wheel chair was brought for Tom's Mom. We've decided from now on that if we have to fly anywhere, we really need to bring Tom's Mom with us. We got through security with no problems at all. Step to the front of the line (our entire group) because Tom's Mom is in a wheel chair. Thankfully, no-one in the tour group outwardly showed any anger about this. We even got to board the plane and settle in before anyone else...even first class!
The pilot commented in disgust (I imagine he had a few more forceful things to say when he discovered this non-pilot decision) about the corporate office's decision to seat our entire Big City tour group on the right side of the planes. The left side of the plane was empty. I'm not really sure why our side of the plane didn't spread out for the time while we were in flight to Fargo but I can only excuse it because it was really early and none of us had our morning caffeine fix kick in as yet. Yes, I got coffee at the airport before we left. Thank goodness. Anyway, we were all squeezed into the right side of the plane. Our pilot managed to take off with no difficulties. The woman that sat next to me complained that my sleeve was tickling her arm. Sigh! I scooted over some more...even though I was in my own seat...and draped myself on HTP. Four hours later.... I really grew to hate that woman. A whiner. A complainer. One of those women with the big hair, painted on face, and phony smile. One of those wonderful people who feel that the world owes them. Of course she used the first class bathroom. Didn't matter that we'd been told repeatedly that we weren't supposed to use the first class bathrooms. Four long hours with the passenger from hell sitting right next to me. She was cold so she had them turn down the air-conditioning. Four long HOT hours, sweating and gasping squished and plastered to HTP's side. Four hours because we stopped in Fargo to fill up the left side of the plane. I'm surprised that I didn't hear a suction sound when I was finally able to unstick myself at the end of the flight. I could hardly walk by that time. Thank goodness I was heavily drugged with Dramamine or I might have killed that witch before we arrived at our destination.
Once we arrived at the Bullhead City airport, we encountered a blast from the past. Do you remember the stairs that used to be rolled up to the door of planes so passengers could disembark? We all limped down the stairs to the tarmac. Bullhead City's airport is not a big airport. There was a big golf cart waiting for HTP's Mom so we didn't have to hike to the terminal across the tarmac like the others did. The tour bus was waiting for us and we all piled into the air-conditioned comfort of the buses. HOT! Bullhead City is still hot in the summer. No surprise there. Oh...the witch rented a car and we ran into her only a couple more times during our stay in Laughlin.
I'll wait for tomorrow's blog to continue this. Stay tuned. Laughlin. A Gambler's Tale.
Murphyism of the Day
Berra's Second Law
Anyone who is popular is bound to be disliked.
Dexlexia - A condition that causes the transposition of letters in words while typing.
I'm Back! I have an excuse for not blogging. We did have our laptop with us but the dial-up speed in our room was so dead slow that we spent what felt like endless time downloading our mail. The hotel charged us for each time we used the phone. And...the server kept hanging up on us. We ended up having to work offline and then work as fast as we could when we were online because it wasn't long before we were disconnected. Needless to say, not much time was spent on the laptop. I'll try to catch you up on the events of the previous days.
Day One--The Flight to Laughlin
HTP and I left on Wednesday for The Big City. We spent the night at a Day's Inn. Our wake up call was for 2:30 AM. As we checked out at 3 AM, I grabbed a couple of donuts from the hotel breakfast room. Although the hotel's continental breakfast isn't served until 5 AM, there were a few leftover donuts sitting in bins by the coffee pots. We didn't have time for coffee but it didn't take long to snag some donuts which we ate on the run to pick up HTP's folks and his Aunt.
I'm not really clear on the times after that. We loaded the luggage into Ye Ole Buick. Shock! It all fit. Really! It did. HTP had brought a bungy cord for the just in case scenario but there wasn't a problem. We got to the airport at ?...but not a big deal because we weren't late. HTP dropped us off by the curb while he parked the car and we dragged our bags into the line that was forming by the ticket counter. We were supposed to arrive at the airport at 4 AM. The ticket counter didn't open until 4:30 AM. Tom's Mom found a seat along with Tom's Aunt and I remained in line along with Tom's Dad and the luggage. We were actually the third and fourth people in line. The conversations commenced. First topic? Why did they make us get here so early if no-one was going to be here to check us in?
At 4:30 AM, we were checked in and a wheel chair was brought for Tom's Mom. We've decided from now on that if we have to fly anywhere, we really need to bring Tom's Mom with us. We got through security with no problems at all. Step to the front of the line (our entire group) because Tom's Mom is in a wheel chair. Thankfully, no-one in the tour group outwardly showed any anger about this. We even got to board the plane and settle in before anyone else...even first class!
The pilot commented in disgust (I imagine he had a few more forceful things to say when he discovered this non-pilot decision) about the corporate office's decision to seat our entire Big City tour group on the right side of the planes. The left side of the plane was empty. I'm not really sure why our side of the plane didn't spread out for the time while we were in flight to Fargo but I can only excuse it because it was really early and none of us had our morning caffeine fix kick in as yet. Yes, I got coffee at the airport before we left. Thank goodness. Anyway, we were all squeezed into the right side of the plane. Our pilot managed to take off with no difficulties. The woman that sat next to me complained that my sleeve was tickling her arm. Sigh! I scooted over some more...even though I was in my own seat...and draped myself on HTP. Four hours later.... I really grew to hate that woman. A whiner. A complainer. One of those women with the big hair, painted on face, and phony smile. One of those wonderful people who feel that the world owes them. Of course she used the first class bathroom. Didn't matter that we'd been told repeatedly that we weren't supposed to use the first class bathrooms. Four long hours with the passenger from hell sitting right next to me. She was cold so she had them turn down the air-conditioning. Four long HOT hours, sweating and gasping squished and plastered to HTP's side. Four hours because we stopped in Fargo to fill up the left side of the plane. I'm surprised that I didn't hear a suction sound when I was finally able to unstick myself at the end of the flight. I could hardly walk by that time. Thank goodness I was heavily drugged with Dramamine or I might have killed that witch before we arrived at our destination.
Once we arrived at the Bullhead City airport, we encountered a blast from the past. Do you remember the stairs that used to be rolled up to the door of planes so passengers could disembark? We all limped down the stairs to the tarmac. Bullhead City's airport is not a big airport. There was a big golf cart waiting for HTP's Mom so we didn't have to hike to the terminal across the tarmac like the others did. The tour bus was waiting for us and we all piled into the air-conditioned comfort of the buses. HOT! Bullhead City is still hot in the summer. No surprise there. Oh...the witch rented a car and we ran into her only a couple more times during our stay in Laughlin.
I'll wait for tomorrow's blog to continue this. Stay tuned. Laughlin. A Gambler's Tale.
Murphyism of the Day
Berra's Second Law
Anyone who is popular is bound to be disliked.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Word of the Day
Destructions - The instructions for any mechanical device or unassembled product that, when followed step-by-step, will either render the item useless or cause serious injury.
Laundry. Packing. HTP and I are driving to The Big City tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I won' t have an opportunity to blog for a while even though we'll be bringing our laptop. Just because I have a laptop doesn't mean I'll find the time or the inclination.
Here's the "skinny"...ok...with all the eating I'm sure we'll be doing I suppose I should use the term "fatty".... Anyway, we're leaving tomorrow to drive to The Big City. We, along with HTP's parents, plan to go to visit with HTP's Aunt who is in a nursing home. After that we'll have a fabulous supper somewhere before we spend the night at a fabulous hotel somewhere in The Big City. Then at 2 AM the following morning (well before the roosters are awake), we'll be picking HTP's folks and another Aunt (not in a nursing home) to drive to the airport. We all need to get there by 4 AM (the rooster still hasn't woken up...never mind the chickens). We're all flying to Laughlin for a few days...via Fargo? I don't get the Fargo bit but we're supposed to end up in Laughlin. I imagine that the roosters will be waking up sometime while we're undergoing the hassles of airport security. Yes, I dumped anything remotely "dangerous" out of my purse. Actually, come to think of it, a woman's purse can be a dangerous thing. Let's all hope they don't add purses to the no-fly items. I hear that they're thinking of relaxing some of the rules about what we can bring onto a flight. Throwing stars?
Murphyism of the Day
Berra's First Law
You can observe a lot just by watching.
Destructions - The instructions for any mechanical device or unassembled product that, when followed step-by-step, will either render the item useless or cause serious injury.
Laundry. Packing. HTP and I are driving to The Big City tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I won' t have an opportunity to blog for a while even though we'll be bringing our laptop. Just because I have a laptop doesn't mean I'll find the time or the inclination.
Here's the "skinny"...ok...with all the eating I'm sure we'll be doing I suppose I should use the term "fatty".... Anyway, we're leaving tomorrow to drive to The Big City. We, along with HTP's parents, plan to go to visit with HTP's Aunt who is in a nursing home. After that we'll have a fabulous supper somewhere before we spend the night at a fabulous hotel somewhere in The Big City. Then at 2 AM the following morning (well before the roosters are awake), we'll be picking HTP's folks and another Aunt (not in a nursing home) to drive to the airport. We all need to get there by 4 AM (the rooster still hasn't woken up...never mind the chickens). We're all flying to Laughlin for a few days...via Fargo? I don't get the Fargo bit but we're supposed to end up in Laughlin. I imagine that the roosters will be waking up sometime while we're undergoing the hassles of airport security. Yes, I dumped anything remotely "dangerous" out of my purse. Actually, come to think of it, a woman's purse can be a dangerous thing. Let's all hope they don't add purses to the no-fly items. I hear that they're thinking of relaxing some of the rules about what we can bring onto a flight. Throwing stars?
Murphyism of the Day
Berra's First Law
You can observe a lot just by watching.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Word of the Day
Destinesia - The experience of purposely walking to another room with the intention of doing something then realizing you have no idea what it was you were going to do.
I went out blackberry picking. It had been so hot and humid and now it looks like the picking season is over faster then one could imagine. As I was picking the last of the blackberries, I noted that it smelled like Fall. The leaves aren't changing. But a cool front rolled in and I notice that it's only 68°F today. I better get out and pick the beans. They must be as confused by this weather as the tomatoes.
Sweater Project Update. I started on the sleeves. The cuffs are finished and I've completed eight inches beyond the cuff. It should be interesting to see if I can make all the increases called for before I reach the underarm length that they call for. Oh well...I have really long arms so I'm sure I'll have knit the arms longer then they ask for.
Murphyism of the Day
Hoffer's Law
When people are free to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.
Destinesia - The experience of purposely walking to another room with the intention of doing something then realizing you have no idea what it was you were going to do.
I went out blackberry picking. It had been so hot and humid and now it looks like the picking season is over faster then one could imagine. As I was picking the last of the blackberries, I noted that it smelled like Fall. The leaves aren't changing. But a cool front rolled in and I notice that it's only 68°F today. I better get out and pick the beans. They must be as confused by this weather as the tomatoes.
Sweater Project Update. I started on the sleeves. The cuffs are finished and I've completed eight inches beyond the cuff. It should be interesting to see if I can make all the increases called for before I reach the underarm length that they call for. Oh well...I have really long arms so I'm sure I'll have knit the arms longer then they ask for.
Murphyism of the Day
Hoffer's Law
When people are free to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Word of the Day
Animalphant: A tall, large-eared mammal of the animal kingdom with large ivory tusks.
It's HTP's birthday today! He's another year older but who's counting. Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday Dear HTP e! Happy Birthday to You!
We took HTP out to breakfast/brunch this morning at The BlueHills Supper Club. As I sat watching the hummingbirds feed right outside the window by our table (I was just sitting there staring with a glazed overfed look), I saw a gazebo out by the edge of the woods and thought wouldn't that make a wonderful place for a wedding?
We gave HTP a card for his birthday which said on the front that he had the choice of a vacation anywhere in the world , one million dollars , or what was on the inside of the card. He kept #1 son and me in suspense before he finally opened the card and took option #3. The card. OK. He's getting the trip to wherever he wants to go along as that happens to be Laughlin and if he's really lucky, he may win a million dollars so Keep Your Fingers Crossed!
The rest of the day today will be spent recovering like a pride of lions from our breakfast/brunch feast.
Murphyism of the Day
Young's Law
It is when you trip over your own shoes that you start picking up shoes.
Animalphant: A tall, large-eared mammal of the animal kingdom with large ivory tusks.
It's HTP's birthday today! He's another year older but who's counting. Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday Dear HTP e! Happy Birthday to You!
We took HTP out to breakfast/brunch this morning at The BlueHills Supper Club. As I sat watching the hummingbirds feed right outside the window by our table (I was just sitting there staring with a glazed overfed look), I saw a gazebo out by the edge of the woods and thought wouldn't that make a wonderful place for a wedding?
We gave HTP a card for his birthday which said on the front that he had the choice of a vacation anywhere in the world , one million dollars , or what was on the inside of the card. He kept #1 son and me in suspense before he finally opened the card and took option #3. The card. OK. He's getting the trip to wherever he wants to go along as that happens to be Laughlin and if he's really lucky, he may win a million dollars so Keep Your Fingers Crossed!
The rest of the day today will be spent recovering like a pride of lions from our breakfast/brunch feast.
Murphyism of the Day
Young's Law
It is when you trip over your own shoes that you start picking up shoes.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Word of the Day
Applelanche: A pile of apples tumbling to the floor.
We're back to dial-up and only one computer too. Sigh. Someone, somewhere in Wisconsin cut a fiber-optic cable somewhere and "poof", not DSL until someone can get around to fixing it. I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, HTP has the only computer that will work with the dial-up. And me? I'm going through withdrawal because none of my favorites are on HTP's computer. Plus, while we're on the computer online, no-one can call us. So? If you don't see me blogging for a while, that's the reason.
I've kept myself sane so far by spending most of the morning in the city. #1 son needed to visit a barber and I decided to have my hair dyed...again. When you start going grey like me, you have to get your hair dyed every month. I tend to push it a bit because we're here in the back of beyond and no-one actually notices my skunk line here but we're going to be flying to Laughlin next week and I figured someone might notice. Maybe. Come to think of it, not too much is noticed aside from jackpots, clanging machines and cigar smoke in Laughlin. Oh well...I noticed it so that's all that counts.
Murphyism of the Day
Colridge's Law
Extremes meet.
Applelanche: A pile of apples tumbling to the floor.
We're back to dial-up and only one computer too. Sigh. Someone, somewhere in Wisconsin cut a fiber-optic cable somewhere and "poof", not DSL until someone can get around to fixing it. I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, HTP has the only computer that will work with the dial-up. And me? I'm going through withdrawal because none of my favorites are on HTP's computer. Plus, while we're on the computer online, no-one can call us. So? If you don't see me blogging for a while, that's the reason.
I've kept myself sane so far by spending most of the morning in the city. #1 son needed to visit a barber and I decided to have my hair dyed...again. When you start going grey like me, you have to get your hair dyed every month. I tend to push it a bit because we're here in the back of beyond and no-one actually notices my skunk line here but we're going to be flying to Laughlin next week and I figured someone might notice. Maybe. Come to think of it, not too much is noticed aside from jackpots, clanging machines and cigar smoke in Laughlin. Oh well...I noticed it so that's all that counts.
Murphyism of the Day
Colridge's Law
Extremes meet.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Word of the Day
Destinesia - reaching a destination and forgetting why you went there.
We got rain. Some. Not enough to really measure as anything in my rain gauge. I know it rained though. The garden is all wet. Regardless, I picked the beans. I also picked the tomatoes. I canned my first two quarts of homegrown tomatoes. I've got a zucchini casserole in the oven. I have green beans snipped and ready to cook up for supper.
I knitted some more on my sweater project. If I keep up at this rate, I'll finish the sweater sometime this winter...ha-ha. Actually, I think I'll have the rest of the right side done before we fly to Laughlin next week. I want to bring along my knitting because there isn't too much to do if you aren't gambling. So? I want to start on the sleeves before I get to Laughlin. My Mother is a better and more confident knitter than I. She knits her sleeves one at a time. I'm afraid if I did that, I'd have one sleeve longer or shorter than the other. I'm already a bit paranoid that the right side is going to be shorter than the left side. I'm not even going to think about the mitered edges. Shudder! I should have made another afghan. I can crotchet anything. Groan! The worst part about knitting a sweater is that someone (that's me) will have to BLOCK the sweater and then...horrors...sew all the pieces together. Blocking is such a ambiguous thing. I mean, if you have no idea how this thing is supposed to look, how can you "block" it? And then, after you have all these pieces, you have to figure out how to sew the pieces together so you end up with something that looks like something that someone would actually want to wear. Did I ever tell you that I have a bit of a problem when it comes to sewing stuff? I think it's a phobia that originated with my home ec. teacher in high school.
Lord! I hated Home Ec! I love to cook but I never quite figured out the purpose of sectioning grapefruit, sprinkling it with sugar, topping it with a marishino cherry and broiling it. I won't go into the sewing part of the course. I still have nightmares. Thank goodness it was my Mother and my Grandmother who actually taught me how to crotchet, knit, and tat...and cook. But come to think of it...maybe if I didn't know how to cook, crotchet, knit and tat...I might have become a Doctor...or Lawyer. MMMM.. That's OK. I'd rather knit sweaters. I'm not sure if I could actually sew a body together. I mean...I have enough problems conquering my sewing phobia from Home Ec.
Murphyism of the Day
First Principle of Self-Determination
When you resist, you become.
Destinesia - reaching a destination and forgetting why you went there.
We got rain. Some. Not enough to really measure as anything in my rain gauge. I know it rained though. The garden is all wet. Regardless, I picked the beans. I also picked the tomatoes. I canned my first two quarts of homegrown tomatoes. I've got a zucchini casserole in the oven. I have green beans snipped and ready to cook up for supper.
I knitted some more on my sweater project. If I keep up at this rate, I'll finish the sweater sometime this winter...ha-ha. Actually, I think I'll have the rest of the right side done before we fly to Laughlin next week. I want to bring along my knitting because there isn't too much to do if you aren't gambling. So? I want to start on the sleeves before I get to Laughlin. My Mother is a better and more confident knitter than I. She knits her sleeves one at a time. I'm afraid if I did that, I'd have one sleeve longer or shorter than the other. I'm already a bit paranoid that the right side is going to be shorter than the left side. I'm not even going to think about the mitered edges. Shudder! I should have made another afghan. I can crotchet anything. Groan! The worst part about knitting a sweater is that someone (that's me) will have to BLOCK the sweater and then...horrors...sew all the pieces together. Blocking is such a ambiguous thing. I mean, if you have no idea how this thing is supposed to look, how can you "block" it? And then, after you have all these pieces, you have to figure out how to sew the pieces together so you end up with something that looks like something that someone would actually want to wear. Did I ever tell you that I have a bit of a problem when it comes to sewing stuff? I think it's a phobia that originated with my home ec. teacher in high school.
Lord! I hated Home Ec! I love to cook but I never quite figured out the purpose of sectioning grapefruit, sprinkling it with sugar, topping it with a marishino cherry and broiling it. I won't go into the sewing part of the course. I still have nightmares. Thank goodness it was my Mother and my Grandmother who actually taught me how to crotchet, knit, and tat...and cook. But come to think of it...maybe if I didn't know how to cook, crotchet, knit and tat...I might have become a Doctor...or Lawyer. MMMM.. That's OK. I'd rather knit sweaters. I'm not sure if I could actually sew a body together. I mean...I have enough problems conquering my sewing phobia from Home Ec.
Murphyism of the Day
First Principle of Self-Determination
When you resist, you become.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Word of the Day
Derstand - To not comprehend, to be confused--opposite of understand.
Between my computer time and my knitting time, I seem to have very little time left over to do much else. I did read two books too. You can't keep me away from books. I even re-read a book. So I guess I should have said that I read three books. My newest addiction is Atomic Fireballs. I love those hot cinnamon candies.
Murphyism of the Day
Sevareid's Law
The chief cause of problems is solutions.
Derstand - To not comprehend, to be confused--opposite of understand.
Between my computer time and my knitting time, I seem to have very little time left over to do much else. I did read two books too. You can't keep me away from books. I even re-read a book. So I guess I should have said that I read three books. My newest addiction is Atomic Fireballs. I love those hot cinnamon candies.
Murphyism of the Day
Sevareid's Law
The chief cause of problems is solutions.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Word of the Day
Deprecipitate - Snow shoveling or "removing" the precipitation.
OK. I think I've totally lost it now. No...maybe the mainstream media has. I have to admit that I've spent last night and all of today reading books. Two books. So, it's only tonight, when I surfaced and decided to make supper, that I actually saw the news. HTP, as usual, had one of the national news stations on...I can't say whether it was ABC, NBC, or CBS but it caught my attention. Why, you ask? Because the topic of the night was all about those evil Israelis, and how awful it was that their military was forcing their own people out of the Gaza. What?! To be honest, these aren't the actual words that they were using but this is the message that came across loud and clear. What?! Isn't this what the mainstream media has been wanting and demanding for years?! I felt terrible for those poor soldiers. They were crying. But still, all that was shown on the mainstream media was the evil Israeli military. It seems that it doesn't make any difference what the Israeli government does. They are evil. They are wrong. Sigh! I regret to say that my prediction is that giving the Palestinians the Gaza and whatever other pieces of land won't make a bit of difference. Some people will never be happy. Hamas has vowed to continue the terrorism until there is no Israel. Such is the world as I see it these days.
Enough of such stuff. If I had been fast enough, I would have shut that stupid TV off. Mainstream media news can be horribly depressing.
I'm making BBQ ribs on the grill tonight. I've got corn-on-the-cob cooking on the stovetop. As I shucked the corn, I noted that I'll have to make more hummingbird nectar tomorrow. I promise that it won't be boiling hot when I put it in the feeders next time. Wouldn't want the little piggies to burn their little tongues.
Murphyism of the Day
Holten's Homily
The only time to be positive is when you are positive you are wrong.
Deprecipitate - Snow shoveling or "removing" the precipitation.
OK. I think I've totally lost it now. No...maybe the mainstream media has. I have to admit that I've spent last night and all of today reading books. Two books. So, it's only tonight, when I surfaced and decided to make supper, that I actually saw the news. HTP, as usual, had one of the national news stations on...I can't say whether it was ABC, NBC, or CBS but it caught my attention. Why, you ask? Because the topic of the night was all about those evil Israelis, and how awful it was that their military was forcing their own people out of the Gaza. What?! To be honest, these aren't the actual words that they were using but this is the message that came across loud and clear. What?! Isn't this what the mainstream media has been wanting and demanding for years?! I felt terrible for those poor soldiers. They were crying. But still, all that was shown on the mainstream media was the evil Israeli military. It seems that it doesn't make any difference what the Israeli government does. They are evil. They are wrong. Sigh! I regret to say that my prediction is that giving the Palestinians the Gaza and whatever other pieces of land won't make a bit of difference. Some people will never be happy. Hamas has vowed to continue the terrorism until there is no Israel. Such is the world as I see it these days.
Enough of such stuff. If I had been fast enough, I would have shut that stupid TV off. Mainstream media news can be horribly depressing.
I'm making BBQ ribs on the grill tonight. I've got corn-on-the-cob cooking on the stovetop. As I shucked the corn, I noted that I'll have to make more hummingbird nectar tomorrow. I promise that it won't be boiling hot when I put it in the feeders next time. Wouldn't want the little piggies to burn their little tongues.
Murphyism of the Day
Holten's Homily
The only time to be positive is when you are positive you are wrong.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Word of the Day
Deplastisize - To remove plastic covering.
Though I usually try to keep things light and fluffy on my blog, I feel that events of our times deserve a bit of notice.
Thursday, August 4th, 2005
The Real Target
By Ralph Peters in the New York Post
In Iraq yesterday a roadside bomb killed 14 Marines. Two days earlier, six Marines from the same outfit were ambushed and killed. Yet those Marines were not the terrorists' primary target.
You were.
Our enemies know the Marines won't quit. But they hope you will.
The terrorists realize now that they can't defeat our military. Instead, they hope to achieve what the North Vietnamese did: To blur the reality on the ground and convince the American public that we're losing.
Those Marines were tactical targets of opportunity. You're the strategic target. The terrorists hope that our media will create an atmosphere of failure -- and that you'll give in to a sense of defeat.
The Marines are looking for a few good men (and women). The terrorists are looking for headlines.
The Marines who died on the Euphrates River battleground were closing down crucial smuggling routes from Syria. Recent operations have made life ever more difficult for the terrorists. Our enemies are fighting fiercely because they're cornered.
They certainly want to kill Marines. But that doesn't require video cameras. The rush to document and publicize their occasional successes makes it clear that the terrorists are fighting, above all, a media campaign. It's their only hope.
That's no comfort to the families of the Marines we lost, of course. And the fact that 20 fatalities within three days came from the same Ohio-based reserve unit, the 3rd Battalion of the 25th Marines, magnifies the pain.
But the unit's losses reflect the importance of its mission.
The terrorists want to hit that battalion as hard as they can, to break the unit's morale and gain some breathing space. They've been doing what any thinking enemy would do -- concentrating their resources on a decisive point. They probably studied the forces tightening the noose around them and decided that hitting a reserve unit offered the best chance of success.
They don't know the Marines.
Our troops will keep the pressure on even as they mourn. The Marines have faced far tougher enemies -- not least the suicidal Japanese, another enemy who showed no mercy (and beheaded prisoners, as well).
The difference is that the extremists in Iraq don't expect a battlefield victory. They're fighting for time. They hope to wear us down, to maintain a level of photogenic chaos in just enough of Iraq to keep the media hot. They'll keep chipping away at our forces, praying that our will will prove far weaker than our weapons.
They don't expect to force out our military through violence. They hope our political leaders will withdraw our troops. The terrorists have done their homework. They know that a disheartening number of our politicians share one of their beliefs: a low opinion of the American people, a notion that we're weak, that we're quitters.
The terrorists know that our Marines aren't afraid of them. But they believe that our politicians are terrified. Of you.
So you're the target of every bomb, bullet and blade our enemies wield. Those Marines were killed to discourage you. They were targeted to ignite political discord in the USA. They died to give ammunition to those in Washington who view our dead only as political liabilities.
There are many practical military issues the administration hasn't addressed. Our forces in Iraq have always have been too few. Much of the equipment with which our Marines and soldiers are equipped is old, inappropriate and inadequate. We went to war with a military designed by defense contractors, not by warriors.
But while those issues are real, we can't afford to play politics with the vital global struggle of our times, the battle with the psychotic strain of Islam that generates terror. Ultimately, the fate of Iraq won't be decided by our enemies. And it won't be decided by our troops. It's going to be decided by you. By your voice and your vote.
The terrorists mean to help you make your decision.
****
As a proud mother of a United States Marine and a member of several online support communities, I would like to express my appreciation for Natalie Healy and her desire and determination to SPEAK OUT! God Bless Her...there are many Marine Moms cheering her on! I am indeed a PMM (Proud Marine Mom) and I pray that I never find myself in the position of losing a loved one to this or any war. I have my own opinions when it comes to Cindy Sheehan and her quest. Mothers like me have been told that our opinions don't count because we haven't lost a son or daughter to this war. The media chooses to only publicize the opinions Cindy Sheehan right now. So...I'm posting yet another article for you from another Mother (Natalie Healy) with a differing opinion. This Mother also lost her son so maybe her opinion matters.
Mother of fallen SEAL says she still supports the war
By SCOTT BROOKS Union Leader Staff
Natalie Healy made a decision this summer after losing her son in war-torn Afghanistan.
"I can't go to those mountains and climb them and I can't shoot a gun," she said. "But I can do everything I can to make sure we stay the course, and if that means speaking out, then that's what I want to do."
Less than two months after the death of her son, Navy SEAL Senior Chief Petty Officer Daniel Healy, the Exeter mother and small business owner is following through on her word.
Healy is making her feelings known in response to the nation's interest in a California mother who has camped outside President Bush's Texas ranch to protest the war in Iraq. Cindy Sheehan's 24-year-old son was killed in Iraq last year.
Healy said she initially sympathized with the grief-stricken mom. Now, however, as Sheehan's message continues to fill the airwaves, Healy said she fears a backlash against the war on terrorism.
"It's sort of like a tidal wave," Healy said. "And it's gaining and gaining and gaining. And I'm not sure what will stop it, to tell you the truth.
"My big concern is that the enemy will use Cindy Sheehan to their benefit. They will point to her and say, 'See? See how this American is calling the President a murderer? See how they're going to start weakening from within?'"
Healy said she was booked to speak on MSNBC's "Hardball" with Chris Matthews last night. The interview got bumped just a few hours before the show, she said.
But Healy said spreading her voice to support the war effort is her "new mission in life."
"I'm hoping, by having another mother who's lost a son speaking out loudly and strongly, that the troops will hear it and be heartened by it," she said. "Because we all know how they're always shocked when they get home and they find out what has been reported."
Several national polls show that a majority of Americans now consider the decision to invade Iraq a mistake. Healy herself said she initially had doubts about the war. She is now convinced the United States cannot leave Iraq just yet.
"The fact of the matter is, at this stage in the game, we're over there," she said. "We have to complete the mission."
Healy said she doubted Sheehan's son, Casey, would support his mother's mission.
Rather, she said, "I think my son would be happy that I was trying to remind people that we have to stay the course. We have to, without a doubt. And I know he'd be saying, 'OK, mom. Good. Good, mom.'"
Healy recognized the public's opinion of the Iraqi conflict is not the same as its opinion of the war in Afghanistan, where her son died June 28. Daniel Healy, a 36-year-old father of four, was one of 16 soldiers killed when insurgents shot down their helicopter.
But Healy said the two conflicts are part of the same war on terrorism, and it's a war the U.S. must continue to fight.
"I think fighting for freedom in Iraq and fighting for freedom in Afghanistan is one and the same," she said.
Healy is hopeful that the public will hear both sides in the debate over pulling U.S. troops from Iraq. It would be harmful, she said, if Sheehan's voice carried the day.
"I just don't want it to be the only story," Healy said. "I want the other voices to be heard so that the young men that fought with my son -- that were broken-hearted from all their buddies getting killed --will know somebody else is speaking out for them. And maybe they won't be heard as much as Cindy Sheehan, but there's somebody trying, anyway."
****
Murphyism of the Day
McGee's First Law
It's amazing how long it takes to complete something you are not working on.
Deplastisize - To remove plastic covering.
Though I usually try to keep things light and fluffy on my blog, I feel that events of our times deserve a bit of notice.
Thursday, August 4th, 2005
The Real Target
By Ralph Peters in the New York Post
In Iraq yesterday a roadside bomb killed 14 Marines. Two days earlier, six Marines from the same outfit were ambushed and killed. Yet those Marines were not the terrorists' primary target.
You were.
Our enemies know the Marines won't quit. But they hope you will.
The terrorists realize now that they can't defeat our military. Instead, they hope to achieve what the North Vietnamese did: To blur the reality on the ground and convince the American public that we're losing.
Those Marines were tactical targets of opportunity. You're the strategic target. The terrorists hope that our media will create an atmosphere of failure -- and that you'll give in to a sense of defeat.
The Marines are looking for a few good men (and women). The terrorists are looking for headlines.
The Marines who died on the Euphrates River battleground were closing down crucial smuggling routes from Syria. Recent operations have made life ever more difficult for the terrorists. Our enemies are fighting fiercely because they're cornered.
They certainly want to kill Marines. But that doesn't require video cameras. The rush to document and publicize their occasional successes makes it clear that the terrorists are fighting, above all, a media campaign. It's their only hope.
That's no comfort to the families of the Marines we lost, of course. And the fact that 20 fatalities within three days came from the same Ohio-based reserve unit, the 3rd Battalion of the 25th Marines, magnifies the pain.
But the unit's losses reflect the importance of its mission.
The terrorists want to hit that battalion as hard as they can, to break the unit's morale and gain some breathing space. They've been doing what any thinking enemy would do -- concentrating their resources on a decisive point. They probably studied the forces tightening the noose around them and decided that hitting a reserve unit offered the best chance of success.
They don't know the Marines.
Our troops will keep the pressure on even as they mourn. The Marines have faced far tougher enemies -- not least the suicidal Japanese, another enemy who showed no mercy (and beheaded prisoners, as well).
The difference is that the extremists in Iraq don't expect a battlefield victory. They're fighting for time. They hope to wear us down, to maintain a level of photogenic chaos in just enough of Iraq to keep the media hot. They'll keep chipping away at our forces, praying that our will will prove far weaker than our weapons.
They don't expect to force out our military through violence. They hope our political leaders will withdraw our troops. The terrorists have done their homework. They know that a disheartening number of our politicians share one of their beliefs: a low opinion of the American people, a notion that we're weak, that we're quitters.
The terrorists know that our Marines aren't afraid of them. But they believe that our politicians are terrified. Of you.
So you're the target of every bomb, bullet and blade our enemies wield. Those Marines were killed to discourage you. They were targeted to ignite political discord in the USA. They died to give ammunition to those in Washington who view our dead only as political liabilities.
There are many practical military issues the administration hasn't addressed. Our forces in Iraq have always have been too few. Much of the equipment with which our Marines and soldiers are equipped is old, inappropriate and inadequate. We went to war with a military designed by defense contractors, not by warriors.
But while those issues are real, we can't afford to play politics with the vital global struggle of our times, the battle with the psychotic strain of Islam that generates terror. Ultimately, the fate of Iraq won't be decided by our enemies. And it won't be decided by our troops. It's going to be decided by you. By your voice and your vote.
The terrorists mean to help you make your decision.
****
As a proud mother of a United States Marine and a member of several online support communities, I would like to express my appreciation for Natalie Healy and her desire and determination to SPEAK OUT! God Bless Her...there are many Marine Moms cheering her on! I am indeed a PMM (Proud Marine Mom) and I pray that I never find myself in the position of losing a loved one to this or any war. I have my own opinions when it comes to Cindy Sheehan and her quest. Mothers like me have been told that our opinions don't count because we haven't lost a son or daughter to this war. The media chooses to only publicize the opinions Cindy Sheehan right now. So...I'm posting yet another article for you from another Mother (Natalie Healy) with a differing opinion. This Mother also lost her son so maybe her opinion matters.
Mother of fallen SEAL says she still supports the war
By SCOTT BROOKS Union Leader Staff
Natalie Healy made a decision this summer after losing her son in war-torn Afghanistan.
"I can't go to those mountains and climb them and I can't shoot a gun," she said. "But I can do everything I can to make sure we stay the course, and if that means speaking out, then that's what I want to do."
Less than two months after the death of her son, Navy SEAL Senior Chief Petty Officer Daniel Healy, the Exeter mother and small business owner is following through on her word.
Healy is making her feelings known in response to the nation's interest in a California mother who has camped outside President Bush's Texas ranch to protest the war in Iraq. Cindy Sheehan's 24-year-old son was killed in Iraq last year.
Healy said she initially sympathized with the grief-stricken mom. Now, however, as Sheehan's message continues to fill the airwaves, Healy said she fears a backlash against the war on terrorism.
"It's sort of like a tidal wave," Healy said. "And it's gaining and gaining and gaining. And I'm not sure what will stop it, to tell you the truth.
"My big concern is that the enemy will use Cindy Sheehan to their benefit. They will point to her and say, 'See? See how this American is calling the President a murderer? See how they're going to start weakening from within?'"
Healy said she was booked to speak on MSNBC's "Hardball" with Chris Matthews last night. The interview got bumped just a few hours before the show, she said.
But Healy said spreading her voice to support the war effort is her "new mission in life."
"I'm hoping, by having another mother who's lost a son speaking out loudly and strongly, that the troops will hear it and be heartened by it," she said. "Because we all know how they're always shocked when they get home and they find out what has been reported."
Several national polls show that a majority of Americans now consider the decision to invade Iraq a mistake. Healy herself said she initially had doubts about the war. She is now convinced the United States cannot leave Iraq just yet.
"The fact of the matter is, at this stage in the game, we're over there," she said. "We have to complete the mission."
Healy said she doubted Sheehan's son, Casey, would support his mother's mission.
Rather, she said, "I think my son would be happy that I was trying to remind people that we have to stay the course. We have to, without a doubt. And I know he'd be saying, 'OK, mom. Good. Good, mom.'"
Healy recognized the public's opinion of the Iraqi conflict is not the same as its opinion of the war in Afghanistan, where her son died June 28. Daniel Healy, a 36-year-old father of four, was one of 16 soldiers killed when insurgents shot down their helicopter.
But Healy said the two conflicts are part of the same war on terrorism, and it's a war the U.S. must continue to fight.
"I think fighting for freedom in Iraq and fighting for freedom in Afghanistan is one and the same," she said.
Healy is hopeful that the public will hear both sides in the debate over pulling U.S. troops from Iraq. It would be harmful, she said, if Sheehan's voice carried the day.
"I just don't want it to be the only story," Healy said. "I want the other voices to be heard so that the young men that fought with my son -- that were broken-hearted from all their buddies getting killed --will know somebody else is speaking out for them. And maybe they won't be heard as much as Cindy Sheehan, but there's somebody trying, anyway."
****
Murphyism of the Day
McGee's First Law
It's amazing how long it takes to complete something you are not working on.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Word of the Day
Dejaflu - Repeatedly getting the flu.
HTP and I drove into the city to get groceries and stuff. We needed almost EVERYTHING! It had come down to me thawing out frozen hotdogs and frozen hotdog buns for lunch. I was down to our last egg. We finished up the rest of the cereal for breakfast. I had a mixture of Count Chocula and S'Mores Crunch. HTP had a mixture of Raisin Bran and Cocoa Krispies. Yes, I did need to go shopping. And I probably forgot something but I'm going back to the city again on Saturday. Hair appointment. I need to get rid of the skunk line.
Sweater project update. I finished the left side of the sweater and started on the right side before we left to go shopping. I still haven't figured out the purpose of this beveled edge thing.
Murphyism of the Day
Baxter's Law
An error in the premise will appear in the conclusion.
Dejaflu - Repeatedly getting the flu.
HTP and I drove into the city to get groceries and stuff. We needed almost EVERYTHING! It had come down to me thawing out frozen hotdogs and frozen hotdog buns for lunch. I was down to our last egg. We finished up the rest of the cereal for breakfast. I had a mixture of Count Chocula and S'Mores Crunch. HTP had a mixture of Raisin Bran and Cocoa Krispies. Yes, I did need to go shopping. And I probably forgot something but I'm going back to the city again on Saturday. Hair appointment. I need to get rid of the skunk line.
Sweater project update. I finished the left side of the sweater and started on the right side before we left to go shopping. I still haven't figured out the purpose of this beveled edge thing.
Murphyism of the Day
Baxter's Law
An error in the premise will appear in the conclusion.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Word of the Day
Drain surgeon: A plumber.
Fish for supper. I know...I shouldn't have made beer batter fish on our diet but I did. I love beer battered fish. They were great! I served them with the green beans from the garden.
Sweater Update. I'm almost done with the left side of the sweater that I'm knitting.
Devil Dog Daughter Update. My daughter has moved from Pensacola, Florida to Cherry Point, North Carolina. She says the next part of her schooling starts by the end of the month. From all accounts, she's not too happy by her new accommodations. However, she's enjoyed the beach already. I feel bad for Devil Dog's husband. He's been tasked with the responsibilities of packing up everything from their apartment and putting stuff into storage. Packing is no fun. Packing all alone is no fun. I know...I've been there. Of course, I never had to be sent off to a war zone afterwards so he's got me beat. On the otherhand, maybe packing while keeping an eye on children qualifies.
Murphyism of the Day
Hall's Law
The means justify the means. The approach to a problem is more important than its solution.
Drain surgeon: A plumber.
Fish for supper. I know...I shouldn't have made beer batter fish on our diet but I did. I love beer battered fish. They were great! I served them with the green beans from the garden.
Sweater Update. I'm almost done with the left side of the sweater that I'm knitting.
Devil Dog Daughter Update. My daughter has moved from Pensacola, Florida to Cherry Point, North Carolina. She says the next part of her schooling starts by the end of the month. From all accounts, she's not too happy by her new accommodations. However, she's enjoyed the beach already. I feel bad for Devil Dog's husband. He's been tasked with the responsibilities of packing up everything from their apartment and putting stuff into storage. Packing is no fun. Packing all alone is no fun. I know...I've been there. Of course, I never had to be sent off to a war zone afterwards so he's got me beat. On the otherhand, maybe packing while keeping an eye on children qualifies.
Murphyism of the Day
Hall's Law
The means justify the means. The approach to a problem is more important than its solution.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Word of the Day
Deja-moo - The feeling you've seen that cow somewhere before.
I finally went out after breakfast and picked the beans. Then I picked the tomatoes. The cucumbers. The lettuce. I sat and watched TV as I snipped and cleaned the beans. Then, I dragged out my finger guillotine and sliced up the cucumbers and some onions, salted the whole and set them aside to make cucumber salad. Meanwhile, the lettuce was soaking in the sink. That came next. I now have a bag of clean leaf lettuce in the fridge along with a bag of green beans. I'm going to let the tomatoes sit for a while so they get a bit riper.
On to my next project. I finished the back of my sweater and started on the left side. Mistake. I made a mistake and discovered it after knitting twenty rows. I had to rip out my first attempt at knitting the left side and start again. Groan! I swear that each pattern is written in a different language and I'm having a hard time since I haven't spoken that language in ages. OK. I started again and am now at the point where I previously decided to rip out the whole. I think I can go on now. As soon as my fingers lose this crippled feeling. I still don't get the purpose of this whole bevel thing but I'm sure it will come into play when I add on the button rows. Right? OH...speaking of which, I'll have to reverse the whole when I start on the right side. Maybe I'll have better luck when it comes to figure out how to knit the sleeves. One can only hope.
Murphyism of the Day
Van Herpen's Law
The solving of a problem lies in finding the solvers.
Deja-moo - The feeling you've seen that cow somewhere before.
I finally went out after breakfast and picked the beans. Then I picked the tomatoes. The cucumbers. The lettuce. I sat and watched TV as I snipped and cleaned the beans. Then, I dragged out my finger guillotine and sliced up the cucumbers and some onions, salted the whole and set them aside to make cucumber salad. Meanwhile, the lettuce was soaking in the sink. That came next. I now have a bag of clean leaf lettuce in the fridge along with a bag of green beans. I'm going to let the tomatoes sit for a while so they get a bit riper.
On to my next project. I finished the back of my sweater and started on the left side. Mistake. I made a mistake and discovered it after knitting twenty rows. I had to rip out my first attempt at knitting the left side and start again. Groan! I swear that each pattern is written in a different language and I'm having a hard time since I haven't spoken that language in ages. OK. I started again and am now at the point where I previously decided to rip out the whole. I think I can go on now. As soon as my fingers lose this crippled feeling. I still don't get the purpose of this whole bevel thing but I'm sure it will come into play when I add on the button rows. Right? OH...speaking of which, I'll have to reverse the whole when I start on the right side. Maybe I'll have better luck when it comes to figure out how to knit the sleeves. One can only hope.
Murphyism of the Day
Van Herpen's Law
The solving of a problem lies in finding the solvers.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Word of the Day
Deja-booboo - The inexorable feeling that you've made this mistake before.
Well heck! I can't think of anything to write at all. Actually, when I was out picking berries, I did spend some time thinking about where I was this time last year. Or what about the year before? So much changes and so much remains the same. Let's see.
On this day in 2003, I wrote:
August 12, 2003
I've been busy today. I made two more quarts of dill pickles from the cucumbers I picked from my garden. I made five quarts of dill pickles on Saturday. I picked, cleaned, cut-up, cooked and canned 3 quarts of green beans from the garden. I boiled up another batch of crayfish caught and brought up from the traps off my dock. I still have to make the wild raspberry jam. Tomorrow. Maybe. We'll see. I'll get to it. Soon. Really. I'm told that I need to go out blackberry picking too. Maybe I'll run into my brother's lawn gnome on my berry picking venture. I'll let you know.
If I remember correctly, the dill pickles that I made that year were too salty but we ate them anyway. I haven't baited any crayfish traps this year. I only made one small batch of wild raspberry jam so far and that's it because they're done. Oh...and I never did run into my brother's lawn gnome that summer. I didn't even kidnap it when I saw it sitting on his stoop in the fall. I didn't can any of my green beans this year. There were plenty of green beans in the garden this year but we've been enjoying them so I doubt there will be any left over for canning.
Now, last year at this time, I wrote:
August 12, 2004
And just when I was getting ready to dig out the snow shovel....The sun is shining today. Despite the rain we got for the last two day, one of my tomato plants graphically reminded me that it wanted water. It was "touching its toes". Apparently that poor plant drank all of the 3/4" of rain we got and wanted more. "Feed Me!" My deck looks like it's been invaded. It's over-run with the green foliage of the tomato plants that are attempting to escape from their containers despite all my judicious pruning. So far no-one has been bitten... at least not by a tomato plant.
As I recall, last year was an awful year for tomatoes. Too little rain and not enough heat. I had plenty of green tomatoes but they never ripened. I never did get enough to can. I ended up buying some from a local farmer. When the first frost hit, I picked all my green tomatoes and added them to the ones my mother gave me to make relish.
This year my deck is over-run by tomato plants and it looks like I'll have a surplus of tomatoes. I'll have to start canning them soon or they'll get away from me.
I picked three quarts of blackberries while I was out wondering and wandering. I plan to make some blackberry pies.
Murphyism of the Day
Ruckert's Law
There is nothing so small that it can't be blown out of proportion.
Deja-booboo - The inexorable feeling that you've made this mistake before.
Well heck! I can't think of anything to write at all. Actually, when I was out picking berries, I did spend some time thinking about where I was this time last year. Or what about the year before? So much changes and so much remains the same. Let's see.
On this day in 2003, I wrote:
August 12, 2003
I've been busy today. I made two more quarts of dill pickles from the cucumbers I picked from my garden. I made five quarts of dill pickles on Saturday. I picked, cleaned, cut-up, cooked and canned 3 quarts of green beans from the garden. I boiled up another batch of crayfish caught and brought up from the traps off my dock. I still have to make the wild raspberry jam. Tomorrow. Maybe. We'll see. I'll get to it. Soon. Really. I'm told that I need to go out blackberry picking too. Maybe I'll run into my brother's lawn gnome on my berry picking venture. I'll let you know.
If I remember correctly, the dill pickles that I made that year were too salty but we ate them anyway. I haven't baited any crayfish traps this year. I only made one small batch of wild raspberry jam so far and that's it because they're done. Oh...and I never did run into my brother's lawn gnome that summer. I didn't even kidnap it when I saw it sitting on his stoop in the fall. I didn't can any of my green beans this year. There were plenty of green beans in the garden this year but we've been enjoying them so I doubt there will be any left over for canning.
Now, last year at this time, I wrote:
August 12, 2004
And just when I was getting ready to dig out the snow shovel....The sun is shining today. Despite the rain we got for the last two day, one of my tomato plants graphically reminded me that it wanted water. It was "touching its toes". Apparently that poor plant drank all of the 3/4" of rain we got and wanted more. "Feed Me!" My deck looks like it's been invaded. It's over-run with the green foliage of the tomato plants that are attempting to escape from their containers despite all my judicious pruning. So far no-one has been bitten... at least not by a tomato plant.
As I recall, last year was an awful year for tomatoes. Too little rain and not enough heat. I had plenty of green tomatoes but they never ripened. I never did get enough to can. I ended up buying some from a local farmer. When the first frost hit, I picked all my green tomatoes and added them to the ones my mother gave me to make relish.
This year my deck is over-run by tomato plants and it looks like I'll have a surplus of tomatoes. I'll have to start canning them soon or they'll get away from me.
I picked three quarts of blackberries while I was out wondering and wandering. I plan to make some blackberry pies.
Murphyism of the Day
Ruckert's Law
There is nothing so small that it can't be blown out of proportion.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Word of the Day
Deicification - Removing ice from something.
Lazy Day, Sleeping the Clouds away...
Finally we're getting our first spit of rain from the clouds that have been hovering all day. I made good use of my time. I found an old blackberry wine recipe on line so I started a blackberry wine project. Right now my "wine" (blackberries, sugar, yeast and whole wheat bread crusts) are all combined into a kettle covered by an old pillowcase (sorry, I don't have any cheesecloth) in the basement. I have to leave the "wine" alone now for five days. Having remembered something that my sister had problems with a few years ago when she tried making wine, I have the kettle settled into the sink so that any spill-over won't make too much of a mess. So far we haven't attracted any fruit flies. I'll keep you posted.
Murphyism of the Day
Seay's Law
Nothing ever comes out as planned.
Deicification - Removing ice from something.
Lazy Day, Sleeping the Clouds away...
Finally we're getting our first spit of rain from the clouds that have been hovering all day. I made good use of my time. I found an old blackberry wine recipe on line so I started a blackberry wine project. Right now my "wine" (blackberries, sugar, yeast and whole wheat bread crusts) are all combined into a kettle covered by an old pillowcase (sorry, I don't have any cheesecloth) in the basement. I have to leave the "wine" alone now for five days. Having remembered something that my sister had problems with a few years ago when she tried making wine, I have the kettle settled into the sink so that any spill-over won't make too much of a mess. So far we haven't attracted any fruit flies. I'll keep you posted.
Murphyism of the Day
Seay's Law
Nothing ever comes out as planned.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Word of the Day
Dehermitize - When a person comes out of self-imposed isolation and engages in social activities.
I refuse to feel guilty about doing nothing but folding one small load of towels today. It was a great day! The weather cooled after yesterday's rain. The sun was shining. I did note that my parents' dog doesn't like getting her feet wet. She gave me the most reproachful look when I took her for a walk and she was forced to walk in the grass with its morning dew. She has the most ridiculous way of acting like someone has been beating her. I promise. I have not been mistreating my parents' dog. I even let her sit on my lap this afternoon while I watched TV and knitted on the sweater I decided to make for myself. She decided my legs needed a good cleaning. Dog spit. Yuck!
I made hummingbird nectar this morning. Sigh. I ruined one of my hummingbird feeders. It melted. Never try and put boiling hot hummingbird nectar into a plastic hummingbird feeder. I guess I'll have to buy a new feeder the next time I visit the city. I let the remaining nectar cool and filled two of my other feeders. Of the gallon of nectar that I made, I have one quart remaining. If I hadn't melted the one feeder, I wouldn't even have that. My goodness, my hummingbirds are little flying pigs. I'm willing to bet that I'll be refilling feeders again in a couple of days.
Murphyism of the Day
Waldrop's Principle
The person not here is the one working on the problem.
Dehermitize - When a person comes out of self-imposed isolation and engages in social activities.
I refuse to feel guilty about doing nothing but folding one small load of towels today. It was a great day! The weather cooled after yesterday's rain. The sun was shining. I did note that my parents' dog doesn't like getting her feet wet. She gave me the most reproachful look when I took her for a walk and she was forced to walk in the grass with its morning dew. She has the most ridiculous way of acting like someone has been beating her. I promise. I have not been mistreating my parents' dog. I even let her sit on my lap this afternoon while I watched TV and knitted on the sweater I decided to make for myself. She decided my legs needed a good cleaning. Dog spit. Yuck!
I made hummingbird nectar this morning. Sigh. I ruined one of my hummingbird feeders. It melted. Never try and put boiling hot hummingbird nectar into a plastic hummingbird feeder. I guess I'll have to buy a new feeder the next time I visit the city. I let the remaining nectar cool and filled two of my other feeders. Of the gallon of nectar that I made, I have one quart remaining. If I hadn't melted the one feeder, I wouldn't even have that. My goodness, my hummingbirds are little flying pigs. I'm willing to bet that I'll be refilling feeders again in a couple of days.
Murphyism of the Day
Waldrop's Principle
The person not here is the one working on the problem.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Word of the Day
Degreeorator - A digital thermometer.
I hate it when HTP is right. After watching the weather threaten all morning and then clear up with not a spit of rain, I put on my berry picking hat (this hat also serves as a fishing hat, a dog-walking hat, a gardening hat, a hiking hat and an all-purpose deerfly protection device), and I grabbed my berry bucket and headed up the driveway. As I was heading out the door, HTP says, "Are you sure you want to go out right now? It's going to rain." I snapped back, "It's been doing this all morning, I'm going berry picking." So, off I go. I got almost all the way to the main road when I heard the first faint rumbles. Well...it had done that too so I wasn't worried as I started meandering back down our 1/2 mile driveway, stopping now and then to the berries on from the other side of the driveway on my way back to the house. And it got darker and darker and darker. The rumbles got louder and louder and louder. I continued picking berries because I'd reached one of my favorite spots. But I started thinking, I wonder if HTP might be getting worried. Maybe I should head more directly home at a faster pace. And then...HTP came driving at a rapid pace down the drive. I'd been wondering if he might decide to come looking for me. Yup. He did. Well, I probably would have made it before it started raining too hard...if I hadn't found another good patch of berries that needed picking on my way. As it was, it was HTP to the rescue in a dashing red Navigator. And yes, I'm glad that HTP rescued me. But darn it, I hate it when he's right. Oh well...I can always pick berries again tomorrow.
We've adopted a little white maltese until Saturday. My folks have some errands to run a number of big cities and I told them that we'd Sassy-sit for them. She's a cute little thing. "No Tribble at All!" and all I have to do is make sure that my dogs don't eat all her food while she's not looking. My dogs are chow hounds. They'd eat until they popped if I wasn't careful.
Murphyism of the Day
Blair's Observation
The best laid plans of mice and men are usually about equal.
Degreeorator - A digital thermometer.
I hate it when HTP is right. After watching the weather threaten all morning and then clear up with not a spit of rain, I put on my berry picking hat (this hat also serves as a fishing hat, a dog-walking hat, a gardening hat, a hiking hat and an all-purpose deerfly protection device), and I grabbed my berry bucket and headed up the driveway. As I was heading out the door, HTP says, "Are you sure you want to go out right now? It's going to rain." I snapped back, "It's been doing this all morning, I'm going berry picking." So, off I go. I got almost all the way to the main road when I heard the first faint rumbles. Well...it had done that too so I wasn't worried as I started meandering back down our 1/2 mile driveway, stopping now and then to the berries on from the other side of the driveway on my way back to the house. And it got darker and darker and darker. The rumbles got louder and louder and louder. I continued picking berries because I'd reached one of my favorite spots. But I started thinking, I wonder if HTP might be getting worried. Maybe I should head more directly home at a faster pace. And then...HTP came driving at a rapid pace down the drive. I'd been wondering if he might decide to come looking for me. Yup. He did. Well, I probably would have made it before it started raining too hard...if I hadn't found another good patch of berries that needed picking on my way. As it was, it was HTP to the rescue in a dashing red Navigator. And yes, I'm glad that HTP rescued me. But darn it, I hate it when he's right. Oh well...I can always pick berries again tomorrow.
We've adopted a little white maltese until Saturday. My folks have some errands to run a number of big cities and I told them that we'd Sassy-sit for them. She's a cute little thing. "No Tribble at All!" and all I have to do is make sure that my dogs don't eat all her food while she's not looking. My dogs are chow hounds. They'd eat until they popped if I wasn't careful.
Murphyism of the Day
Blair's Observation
The best laid plans of mice and men are usually about equal.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Word of the Day
Defreshing - Fails not only to reinvigorate as expected, but, in fact, reduces vigor.
I know that Sunday has come and gone but I thought I'd share the following little prayer. It has joined the ranks of my other favorite:
Lord grant me patience! Now!
Old Gaelic Blessing
May those who love us, love us,
And those who don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts,
And if he doesn’t turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles
So we’ll know them by their limping.
Murphyism of the Day
Disraeli's Dictum
Error is often more earnest than truth.
Defreshing - Fails not only to reinvigorate as expected, but, in fact, reduces vigor.
I know that Sunday has come and gone but I thought I'd share the following little prayer. It has joined the ranks of my other favorite:
Lord grant me patience! Now!
Old Gaelic Blessing
May those who love us, love us,
And those who don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts,
And if he doesn’t turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles
So we’ll know them by their limping.
Murphyism of the Day
Disraeli's Dictum
Error is often more earnest than truth.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Word of the Day
Deflufferate - To remove the fluff from an article of clothing.
It's always a treat to sit on the dock after the weekenders have left. This weekend provided a lure that the weekenders could not resist. Who could blame them? This didn't mean that I had to spend my entire weekend inside but I guess I prefer the quiet serenity that envelopes the lake after the speed boats, pontoons, water-skiers, jet-skiers, and the like, have left to go home.
Woodtick season is pretty much a thing of the past for this summer but the occasional hold out can be found. HTP had to dig a woodtick out of my back last night. Usually I can take care of the little creatures myself but this one had managed to embed itself where I couldn't reach. It was a deertick. That's two for me for the season. Two deerticks. I stopped counting the other variety. There was no telltale bullseye for the last deertick. I'll have to keep an eye on this one and hope I dodged another "bullet" when it comes to Lyme's disease.
My knee and hip haven't complained too much today but I haven't put them out much. I want to go out and pick blackberries tomorrow. I'll give my knee and hip a dry run on our 1/2 mile driveway before I venture out onto the old logging road again. Knowing HTP, he won't let me hike the logging road again unless I bring the cellphone with me. Sigh. He saw a black bear. Nuff said.
Murphyism of the Day
Fox on Problematics
When a problem goes away, the people working to solve it do not.
Deflufferate - To remove the fluff from an article of clothing.
It's always a treat to sit on the dock after the weekenders have left. This weekend provided a lure that the weekenders could not resist. Who could blame them? This didn't mean that I had to spend my entire weekend inside but I guess I prefer the quiet serenity that envelopes the lake after the speed boats, pontoons, water-skiers, jet-skiers, and the like, have left to go home.
Woodtick season is pretty much a thing of the past for this summer but the occasional hold out can be found. HTP had to dig a woodtick out of my back last night. Usually I can take care of the little creatures myself but this one had managed to embed itself where I couldn't reach. It was a deertick. That's two for me for the season. Two deerticks. I stopped counting the other variety. There was no telltale bullseye for the last deertick. I'll have to keep an eye on this one and hope I dodged another "bullet" when it comes to Lyme's disease.
My knee and hip haven't complained too much today but I haven't put them out much. I want to go out and pick blackberries tomorrow. I'll give my knee and hip a dry run on our 1/2 mile driveway before I venture out onto the old logging road again. Knowing HTP, he won't let me hike the logging road again unless I bring the cellphone with me. Sigh. He saw a black bear. Nuff said.
Murphyism of the Day
Fox on Problematics
When a problem goes away, the people working to solve it do not.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Word of the Day
Deeriary - Variant of topiary. Shrubbery with interesting shapes created by deer munching them. Also connotes derriere, behind, as in left behind by deer.
Today was spent, as permitted by my grousing knee and hip, on level ground. As much as possible. I did go down the hill to the lake to pick some blackberries. Apparently, going down was just fine with my knee and hip. They just didn't want me to make the return trip up hill. Soooo, I just crab-walked back up the hill with my berries and spent the rest of the day watching TV.
HTP and I will be going out for supper tonight with HTP's sister and her family. In self-defense, calorie-wise, I decided not to make any lunch. I'm sure the calorie intake for our supper won't have even a slim chance of burning off in the near future. So any calories that I can avoid, must be avoided.
Last night we ate too much over at my sister's place. She made a wonderful meal of fried fish, salads and forbidden treats. It was wonderful. Equally so was the company of my brother (The Fern King) and his family, my sister and her husband, my folks and HTP.
Murphyism of the Day
Big Al's Law
A good solution can be successfully applied to almost any problem.
Deeriary - Variant of topiary. Shrubbery with interesting shapes created by deer munching them. Also connotes derriere, behind, as in left behind by deer.
Today was spent, as permitted by my grousing knee and hip, on level ground. As much as possible. I did go down the hill to the lake to pick some blackberries. Apparently, going down was just fine with my knee and hip. They just didn't want me to make the return trip up hill. Soooo, I just crab-walked back up the hill with my berries and spent the rest of the day watching TV.
HTP and I will be going out for supper tonight with HTP's sister and her family. In self-defense, calorie-wise, I decided not to make any lunch. I'm sure the calorie intake for our supper won't have even a slim chance of burning off in the near future. So any calories that I can avoid, must be avoided.
Last night we ate too much over at my sister's place. She made a wonderful meal of fried fish, salads and forbidden treats. It was wonderful. Equally so was the company of my brother (The Fern King) and his family, my sister and her husband, my folks and HTP.
Murphyism of the Day
Big Al's Law
A good solution can be successfully applied to almost any problem.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Word of the Day
Deceptacon - A person suspected of being a liar, or untruthful.
Since it was such a beautiful day today, I decided to hike down the old logging road. It's a long hike. Plus, the old logging road hasn't been used in a long time. I haven't hiked it since last summer. It was a bit daunting to have to blaze trail through grass and weeds that were taller then me. I made it to my folks' cabin with only on fall and a couple of banged up shins. Of course, my knee started complaining when I was only half way to my destination. Then my hip followed suit. By the time I got to my folks' place both my knee and my hip were screaming bloody murder at me, sure that I was trying to kill them. For the most part I ignored them. When they got too outrageous I told them to shut up. If Devil Dog Daughter can go through bootcamp with a broken hip and Marine Combat Training with a broken hip and a broken femur, my knee and hip can just shut up and stop complaining. I took a couple of advil. And I drank a beer. My knee and hip are still grousing but I don't plan to irritate them anymore tonight.
The blackberries are just starting to ripen. In a day or so I'll go out and pick again. Shhh! Don't tell my knee and hip.
Murphyism of the Day
The Schainker Converse to Hoare's Law of Larger Problems
Inside every small problem is a larger problem struggling to get out.
Deceptacon - A person suspected of being a liar, or untruthful.
Since it was such a beautiful day today, I decided to hike down the old logging road. It's a long hike. Plus, the old logging road hasn't been used in a long time. I haven't hiked it since last summer. It was a bit daunting to have to blaze trail through grass and weeds that were taller then me. I made it to my folks' cabin with only on fall and a couple of banged up shins. Of course, my knee started complaining when I was only half way to my destination. Then my hip followed suit. By the time I got to my folks' place both my knee and my hip were screaming bloody murder at me, sure that I was trying to kill them. For the most part I ignored them. When they got too outrageous I told them to shut up. If Devil Dog Daughter can go through bootcamp with a broken hip and Marine Combat Training with a broken hip and a broken femur, my knee and hip can just shut up and stop complaining. I took a couple of advil. And I drank a beer. My knee and hip are still grousing but I don't plan to irritate them anymore tonight.
The blackberries are just starting to ripen. In a day or so I'll go out and pick again. Shhh! Don't tell my knee and hip.
Murphyism of the Day
The Schainker Converse to Hoare's Law of Larger Problems
Inside every small problem is a larger problem struggling to get out.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Word of the Day
Debubbletize - To pop all the air bubbles in your bubble wrap.
It's been a beautiful day today. The temperature is in the 70's. Perfect. I spent the entire day enjoying the breeze off the lake. OK. I addressed some more wedding announcements and got them ready for mailing. But aside from that? Bliss. OK. I still have to go out and pick stuff from the garden, never forgetting to wear my hat. But aside from that? I'm sure I'll think of something. There's no rush.
Murphyism of the Day
Hoare's Law of Large Problems
Inside every large problem is a small problem struggling to get out.
Debubbletize - To pop all the air bubbles in your bubble wrap.
It's been a beautiful day today. The temperature is in the 70's. Perfect. I spent the entire day enjoying the breeze off the lake. OK. I addressed some more wedding announcements and got them ready for mailing. But aside from that? Bliss. OK. I still have to go out and pick stuff from the garden, never forgetting to wear my hat. But aside from that? I'm sure I'll think of something. There's no rush.
Murphyism of the Day
Hoare's Law of Large Problems
Inside every large problem is a small problem struggling to get out.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Word of the Day
Atmosfear: Smog phobia.
Some days it's hard to be the Mom of a Marine and the Mother-in-law of a GI Joe. The topic of today was Notification on the Marine Family Support Board. We lost 20 Marines in a matter of days. I didn't know any of them but I know people who did. The media maintains a steady drumbeat with a running body count. They breathlessly race to interview parents and families. Warning to the press! Don't come to interview me! Today I read the fear expressed by the parents who waited and wondered how or even if they would be notified because they were at work when the news popped up on their computers that Marines in the unit where their sons were deployed had been killed. I know the Mothers of two girls from my daughter's platoon who are going to be heading off to Iraq. They are feeling shock at this point. So soon? But we only just watched them graduate! One Mom was joking that her daughter would be writing out parking tickets at Pendleton. I know the Mothers of four boys from my daughter's brother platoon that are scheduled for deployment. One was just managing to deal with the reality that her son had left for Japan for the next two years and then she found that he too will be heading to Iraq. Three other Moms knew that their sons were going to be deployed. Soon. GI Joe is scheduled for deployment. No, today wasn't easy. On top of that? I feel guilty. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. I'm not the Mom in Ohio worrying that I'll miss a Notification about my son or daughter while I'm at work. I'm just a Marine Mom who fires up her computer each morning and reads all the fears and grief from the other Marine Moms and tries to write something, anything that may make them feel that they aren't alone. That I'm not alone and won't be should I find myself walking in their shoes.
OK. I know. I promised that I'd keep this blog light and fluffy so...
Funny of the Day
A man's car broke down as he was driving past a beautiful old monastery. He walked up the drive and knocked on the front door. A monk answered, listened to the man's story and graciously invited him to spend the night.
The monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep. The man thanked the monks and slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange and beautiful sound.
The next morning, as the monks were repairing his car, he asked about the sound that had woke him.
"We're sorry," the monks said. "We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk."
The man was disappointed, but eager to be gone, so he thanked the monks for their kindness and went on his way.
During quiet moments afterward, the man pondered the source of the alluring sound.
Several years later the man happened to be driving in the same area. He stopped at the monastery on a whim and asked admittance. He explained to the monks that he had so enjoyed his previous stay, he wondered if he might be permitted to spend another night under their peaceful roof.
The monks agreed, and so the man stayed with them again.
Late that night, he heard the strange beautiful sound. The following morning he begged the monks to explain the sound. The monks gave him the same answer as before.
"We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk."
By now the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give up everything and become a monk, for that was the only way he could learn about the sound.
He informed the monks of his decision and began the long and arduous task of becoming a monk.
Seventeen years later, the man was finally established as a true member of the order. When the celebration ended, he humbly went to the leader of the order and asked to be told the source of the sound.
Silently, the old monk led the new monk to a huge wooden door. He opened the door with a golden key. That door swung open to reveal a second door of silver, then a third of gold and so on until they had passed through twelve doors, each more magnificent than the last.
The new monk's face was awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the beautiful mysterious sound he had heard so many years before..........
> >>> > >>> > >>> .................. > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> ............ > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> ...... > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> But, I can't tell you what it was. You're not a monk.
Murphyism of the Day
Smith's Law
No real problem has a solution.
Atmosfear: Smog phobia.
Some days it's hard to be the Mom of a Marine and the Mother-in-law of a GI Joe. The topic of today was Notification on the Marine Family Support Board. We lost 20 Marines in a matter of days. I didn't know any of them but I know people who did. The media maintains a steady drumbeat with a running body count. They breathlessly race to interview parents and families. Warning to the press! Don't come to interview me! Today I read the fear expressed by the parents who waited and wondered how or even if they would be notified because they were at work when the news popped up on their computers that Marines in the unit where their sons were deployed had been killed. I know the Mothers of two girls from my daughter's platoon who are going to be heading off to Iraq. They are feeling shock at this point. So soon? But we only just watched them graduate! One Mom was joking that her daughter would be writing out parking tickets at Pendleton. I know the Mothers of four boys from my daughter's brother platoon that are scheduled for deployment. One was just managing to deal with the reality that her son had left for Japan for the next two years and then she found that he too will be heading to Iraq. Three other Moms knew that their sons were going to be deployed. Soon. GI Joe is scheduled for deployment. No, today wasn't easy. On top of that? I feel guilty. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. I'm not the Mom in Ohio worrying that I'll miss a Notification about my son or daughter while I'm at work. I'm just a Marine Mom who fires up her computer each morning and reads all the fears and grief from the other Marine Moms and tries to write something, anything that may make them feel that they aren't alone. That I'm not alone and won't be should I find myself walking in their shoes.
OK. I know. I promised that I'd keep this blog light and fluffy so...
Funny of the Day
A man's car broke down as he was driving past a beautiful old monastery. He walked up the drive and knocked on the front door. A monk answered, listened to the man's story and graciously invited him to spend the night.
The monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep. The man thanked the monks and slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange and beautiful sound.
The next morning, as the monks were repairing his car, he asked about the sound that had woke him.
"We're sorry," the monks said. "We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk."
The man was disappointed, but eager to be gone, so he thanked the monks for their kindness and went on his way.
During quiet moments afterward, the man pondered the source of the alluring sound.
Several years later the man happened to be driving in the same area. He stopped at the monastery on a whim and asked admittance. He explained to the monks that he had so enjoyed his previous stay, he wondered if he might be permitted to spend another night under their peaceful roof.
The monks agreed, and so the man stayed with them again.
Late that night, he heard the strange beautiful sound. The following morning he begged the monks to explain the sound. The monks gave him the same answer as before.
"We're sorry. We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk."
By now the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give up everything and become a monk, for that was the only way he could learn about the sound.
He informed the monks of his decision and began the long and arduous task of becoming a monk.
Seventeen years later, the man was finally established as a true member of the order. When the celebration ended, he humbly went to the leader of the order and asked to be told the source of the sound.
Silently, the old monk led the new monk to a huge wooden door. He opened the door with a golden key. That door swung open to reveal a second door of silver, then a third of gold and so on until they had passed through twelve doors, each more magnificent than the last.
The new monk's face was awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the beautiful mysterious sound he had heard so many years before..........
> >>> > >>> > >>> .................. > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> ............ > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> ...... > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> But, I can't tell you what it was. You're not a monk.
Murphyism of the Day
Smith's Law
No real problem has a solution.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Word of the Day
Debasement - Mafia term for "cellar."
I've been looking for my recipe for zucchini casserole. I can't find it. I know that it had cottage cheese, romano cheese, mozzarella cheese, ground beef, onions and zucchini. Aside from that? I haven't a clue. I did find something close to it on the internet but still, it just wasn't quite the same. Oh well...I guess I'll make another recipe instead. There's a baked zucchini patty that's supposed to taste like crab cakes. I've got zucchini and I'm tired of the same old Italian recipe that I make with the eggs.
Murphyism of the Day
Finman's Bargain Basement Principle
The one you want is never the one on sale.
Debasement - Mafia term for "cellar."
I've been looking for my recipe for zucchini casserole. I can't find it. I know that it had cottage cheese, romano cheese, mozzarella cheese, ground beef, onions and zucchini. Aside from that? I haven't a clue. I did find something close to it on the internet but still, it just wasn't quite the same. Oh well...I guess I'll make another recipe instead. There's a baked zucchini patty that's supposed to taste like crab cakes. I've got zucchini and I'm tired of the same old Italian recipe that I make with the eggs.
Murphyism of the Day
Finman's Bargain Basement Principle
The one you want is never the one on sale.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Word of the Day
Deaned - Being discovered misbehaving by a dean at school, subsequently being punished and sad.
So...if it's 99°F out on the south side of my house, and it's 83°F on the north side of my house, do I split the difference and say that it's a miserably hot and humid 91°F ? I did venture outside to pick the zucchini before they turned into logs. I also picked the cucumbers and the beans and the tomatoes that have ripened magically in only in the last 48 hours. In just that short time, it became more than obvious that I wouldn't be doing any berry picking today. I came back inside looking like I got hit by a water balloon. Women don't sweat...they glow. Hah! They look like someone attacked them with a water balloon but with none of the cooling effects such an event would provide. Thank goodness for air-conditioning but regardless, I think I'll be cooking outside on the deck tonight. No point in over-taxing the system. Am I surprised that it's hot outside? Nope. It's August. It's summer. And? Summer is summer. Heat and humidity are just a small part of it. People actually pay good money for steam bathes. All I have to do is go outside and sit. And all I have to pay is the exorbitant Wisconsin property taxes.
Murphyism of the Day
Hadley's Laws of Clothing Shopping
1. If you like it, they don't have it in your size.
2. If you like it and it's in your size, it doesn't fit anyway.
3. If you like it and it fits, you can't afford it.
4. If you like it, it fits and you can afford it, it falls apart the first time you wear it.
Deaned - Being discovered misbehaving by a dean at school, subsequently being punished and sad.
So...if it's 99°F out on the south side of my house, and it's 83°F on the north side of my house, do I split the difference and say that it's a miserably hot and humid 91°F ? I did venture outside to pick the zucchini before they turned into logs. I also picked the cucumbers and the beans and the tomatoes that have ripened magically in only in the last 48 hours. In just that short time, it became more than obvious that I wouldn't be doing any berry picking today. I came back inside looking like I got hit by a water balloon. Women don't sweat...they glow. Hah! They look like someone attacked them with a water balloon but with none of the cooling effects such an event would provide. Thank goodness for air-conditioning but regardless, I think I'll be cooking outside on the deck tonight. No point in over-taxing the system. Am I surprised that it's hot outside? Nope. It's August. It's summer. And? Summer is summer. Heat and humidity are just a small part of it. People actually pay good money for steam bathes. All I have to do is go outside and sit. And all I have to pay is the exorbitant Wisconsin property taxes.
Murphyism of the Day
Hadley's Laws of Clothing Shopping
1. If you like it, they don't have it in your size.
2. If you like it and it's in your size, it doesn't fit anyway.
3. If you like it and it fits, you can't afford it.
4. If you like it, it fits and you can afford it, it falls apart the first time you wear it.