Tuesday, August 26, 2008 - Where Do They Get This Stuff? and Gambling
Miss Dog Lover has been full of cryptic remarks today. She was eating a rocket pop, the kind with jokes on the stick, and read the question outloud: What do you call a lazy bizz on?
We had her reread it. Three times until I figured out: bizz on = bison.
(by the way, it's a buffaloafer. Not worth the trouble.)
Then, I had written thank yous to my dear children who provided gifts to commemorate my turning an age which is a perfect square, the last perfect square age I'll see till 2023. Yikes. But perfect squares are a good thing, and my dear Granny made it past 10 squared, so I have hopes of seeing a few more if my genes hold. So, Mr Music had given me, in what I considered a masterful stroke by a hungry boy, a pretty candy dish. He found his thank you on his pillow, and next thing I knew, there was one returned to my pillow from him: (how sweet, eh?)
Dear Mom,
Thank you so much for the card. Mi pleshur for the dish. Fill it wit lots of candy!!
love,
Mr Music
He is nothing if not subtle.
Then, I helped Miss Dog Lover remove her nail polish and commented about it coming off easily. She said, "That's because I haven't used this color in a few years so it's used to not being used." Say what? There is no way I'm teaching this child formal logic.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
And now for the gambling part. Devastatingly Handsome has ordered me some mysterious item which did not arrive timely. He keeps checking the shipping information, which for *FOUR DAYS* showed that FedEx was keeping whatever the item is in Reno, Nevada. Does this mean instead of delivering my whatever someone is gambling? Let's get back to work, FedEx! I want to know what it is. What if it's some candy for the dish?
One secret of sweet and happy Christian life--is in learning to LIVE BY THE DAY. It is the long stretches which tire us. We say that "we cannot carry this load until we are eighty--or that we cannot fight this battle continually for half a century." But really, there are no long stretches. Life does not come to us in lifetimes; it comes only a day at a time. Even tomorrow is never ours--until it becomes today; and we have nothing whatever to do with it--but to pass down to it a fair and good inheritance in today's work well done and today's life well lived.
It is a blessed secret--this of living by the day.
Anyone can carry his burden, however heavy--until nightfall. Anyone can do his work, however hard--for one day. Anyone can live sweetly, quietly, patiently, lovingly, and purely--until the sun goes down. This is all the life which we really ever have--just one little day.
God gives us nights to shut down the curtain of darkness on our little days. We cannot see beyond--and we ought not to try to see beyond. Short horizons make life easier, and give us one of the blessed secrets of noble, happy, holy living.
We ought not to be content to live otherwise--than beautifully. We can live our life only once. We cannot go over life again--to correct its mistakes or amend its faults. We ought therefore to live it well. And to do this, we must make every day beautiful, as it passes. Lost days must always remain blanks in the records; and stained days must carry their stains. Beautiful days make beautiful years, and beautiful years make a beautiful life!
"As your days--so shall your strength be." Deuteronomy 33:25
My home page is one of those yahoo things that provides news headlines from a variety of sources. One of my favorite daily activities is scanning the health headlines for the obvious, the kind of thing that if my 5th grader asked to do it for a science project, I'd say no way, everyone already knows that. But apparently a lot of the things everyone already knows still need to be studied and written up on the internet. I've been in the habit of flying these lame headlines past Miss Language for her enjoyment, but now, alas, she has flown the coop to college and so I shall share with you all, instead. :)
I read today's lame offering aloud this morning and Mr Music met it with a resounding, "Duh." It was:
The part that always kills me is the "may." Let's not go out on a limb here, folks, and actually say anything that could possibly be judgemental. Anyhow, this set us all to making up our own health/science breakthrough studies that we won't be surprised anymore if we someday see:
Devastatingly Handsome: Studies show ~ not running on busy highways in the dark may prevent injuries.
Mr Music: Extensive studies reveal eating can possibly lessen hunger. (he is currently carrying out lots of research on this one)
Miss Dance: Regular baths and showers may improve bodily hygiene.
Miss Dog Lover: *rolled the eyes*
Me: Research indicates many teens have no idea how they got such an odd family.
The big questions:
got any research headlines to contribute?
and how can homeschoolers qualify for the research grants?
Monday, August 18, 2008 - Miss Dance's Little Quirks
Today I bring you three things that make Miss Dance crazy. So, if you know her IRL, you will now know just what buttons to push.
#1 Many times she will see someone's necklace and tell them they are "illegal." This means the clasp has slipped around to the front where it is visible. Or, worse yet, it is the whole way down touching the pendant. She is not even happy if it is off-center in the back. I am not sure just what law this breaks, but apparently it is criminal behavior.
#2 If you take her shopping to a store that uses carts, she wants it filled evenly. The Right Way to do this is to set things in squarely so they fit together without leaving blanks. Everything must be (of course) right side up and you start filling from the back right corner across to the back left, then start another row touching it from right to left and continue till you are done in the store. She is more willing to be flexible if the contents of the cart include things she deems cute, for herself, or even if there are inordinate quantities of sugar.
#3 She totally disapproves of all my special buddies being males who are pink. Yes, Chicky, Precious and Melrose look like females to her, just because of the color of their fur. Piglet missed the photo, but everyone knows he's a guy. (Fans of Melrose: note the cape Mr Music has furnished him. This was knit for I think a Barbie by a very young Miss Language. I think it is the only thing she has ever knit.)
So, free advice to any males who want to drive Miss Dance away: wear a necklace with the clasp slid around, shop sloppily, and wear pink. That should do it.
A few weeks ago my family started babbling about a dead mailbox every time we drove down our street. It turns out our neighbor's mailbox had an untimely departure which I did not notice till it had been pointed out to me and loudly lamented for Quite Awhile. They have speculated about how long the neighbors will leave the fallen mailbox just lying there. They have given funeral orations. They have made jokes. It is sad, really.
~ Today we lament the departure of the R's mailbox. Its life may seem hollow and meaningless, but it was a good mailbox. However, it spent most of its life feeling empty and unfulfilled.
~ It never asked anything for itself, just willingly emptied itself and served as an intermediary, bringing communication between loved ones who were far apart, working diligently to bring them closer.
~ It faithfully served in all sorts of weather.
~ It waited patiently to do its annointed task, no matter how humble.
~ It was a first-class government official.
~ Ahh, mailbox, we never really knew you.
We hope they grant it a decent burial, soon. We nearly laid a bouquet on it for the photo, but didn't want to intrude in their grief at this time.
I was wondering where Comfy Denim lives anyhow the other day and wouldn't it be fun to go visit her and my other blogging friends in real life. But then I decided what I really want is not exactly a real life visit, but kind of a Blog Theme Park.
So my Blog Theme Park as of tonight would include:
~ a stop to see the exact site where the forks were planted. I picture a bronze historic marker there.
~ a visit to Puzzlemom's to see her crockpot collection and try whatever the offering du jour is - I'm kind of hoping for this berry cobbler.
~ check out all the crazy chickens at Grits' place and see if they are still being taken for rides. And then a stop to compare and contrast Arby's chickens.
Saturday, August 9, 2008 - Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Fans of Melrose will be gratified to hear he was allowed to accompany us to the ballgame this past week.
Unfortunately, the concession does not sell bananas. Even sadder, Melrose's team lost. But we did see either 3 or 4 bats break, a home run, and a few great plays.
Hey, how do you like that? I double posted Melrose so it looks like he has a twin. Deja and Vu. And, having just seen Matrix with Miss Language, I know that Deja Vu can mean big trouble.
Matrix, by the way, is a movie that has set my mind to wondering, for example: how does it fit in to the Matrix kind of plot when people play on their wiis (hope that is the right plural) for exercise? Seems they are voluntarily going in to a matrix.
For some inconceivable reason I neglected to check engrish.com for a couple weeks, so now I have the pleasure of catching up.
This first one saved Devastatingly Handsome some cash. I had been craving Chinese food. That craving was suddenly cured by this picture, this must be the redneck Chinese equivalent of sausage or hot dogs or scrapple or haggis. But whatever it is, it needs a new name. No, thanks.
Then in case you have a stronger constitution, and still are hungry, comes this meal offering. You gotta love the tell-it-like-it-is naming approach here. No euphemisms like "value sizing" here, oh, no. I'm not sure just what the parsley is garnishing, but it looks on the raw side to me, in fact, it looks enough like the heart Miss Language dissected last year to make me wonder if this is another in the series along with the ribs and internal organs thangs.
And then, finally, and I would say, "on a cheerier note," however, this is not cheerier, merely less gross, and just plain rude. I have no clue why a simple "no trespassing" would not work. Maybe the sign painter was paid by the word, or just having a bad day, a very bad day. Maybe he had been forced to eat some sort of internal organ thang. That could do it.
Miss Dog Lover has been in charge of a zinnia bed this summer. It is her first venture into gardening and has been successful. She is happy to cut bright flowers for the table and has been watering them daily and even weeding without reminders.
Yesterday, we discovered an interesting zinnia, unlike any of the others, all solid color on the petals.
Odd, isn't it, how the blue on this one so closely resembles the blue shade we just painted the living room? Makes me smile.
