Flea's World

Gimmicks?

2012-01-21T19:45:00.000-06:00

I realized today that I don't have any new gimmicks for the blog. You know - like Fred and Bessie, or Mr. Monkeysuit, or Funny Bone Monday. I mean, sure, I have chickens. And ducks. But they don't go on cool adventures or tell jokes, so what good are they? Besides laying eggs, I mean. They're pretty. And fluffy. Yeah.

The ducks do chase the dogs, so there's that.

But that gets old. Okay, it doesn't. But only for me is it always fresh.

Oh! There's Little Jimmy Dickens, whom, we've discovered, is a male. The following video is a tad mature. Just sayin'.

Then there are my derpy chickens. They hide their eggs for weeks at a time. So this is what we find in a back corner under some vines.

Beautiful. Don't know which ones have been there for how long. I boiled them all up and the chickens enjoyed a treat every day last week. Shells and all.

So no gimmick. And here I was wanting to blog again. Maybe I'll start slow and just catch up on y'all's blogs one at a time?

Until I write again ...

Flea

Kareen Ramsey, Squirrely Artist

2012-01-16T07:59:00.015-06:00

One of my most favorite Christmas gifts, in addition to my 17 foot Doctor Who scarf that Maybelline crocheted for me, is the squirrel picture my mother made. LOOKIT!!!

Wicked cool, huh? Of all her work, this squirrel is one of my favorites. I just want to throw him a nut and watch him scamper. I think I want to name him. Suggestions? I'd make this a contest, but I still have a wrapped book from a contest a year ago waiting for me to make a trip to the post office. *sigh* But I'll see what I can do. And I'll let my Hunny choose his favorite name. How's that?

So go check out my mom, Kareen Ramsey's, art work. She's primarily a pencil artist, specializing in portraits. It's uncanny what she can do with a photo and some Prismacolors. Especially take a moment to read her bio. You'll catch a whiff of where I came from. That and she cracks me up. :)

Until I write again ...

Flea

Peep Immortalized

2012-01-11T19:54:00.000-06:00

My friend, Dave Bahm, a big fan of Marilyn Monroe and popcorn, is an artist. A very good artist. Go look. I'll wait. Just so ya know, my favorites are his Route 66 work and the horses in his commissioned work.

A few weeks ago Dave asked if he could use one of my Peep shots to work on during an art exhibit, give the crowd a taste of what he does instead of twiddling his thumbs. Dave, are you a thumb twiddler? You don't strike me as such.

He sent me the picture!!! It arrived today, on my 20th anniversary! Dave and his lovely wife Jen sent me a picture of my favorite chicken!!! LOOKIT!!!! AND ... Dave makes way cool greeting cards - I've purchased them as Christmas gifts in the past - and he made four of those for me as well!

How very cool would it be if you ordered your own Peep cards? They're GORGEOUS!!! See? Am I excited? Yes. Yes I am. I squishy heart my Peep, and I'm so grateful to my popcorn munching cow-friend, Dave. Again, go see his work. It's awesome. :)

Until I write again ...

Flea

A post without chicken photos? Say it ain't so!

2012-01-09T11:06:00.000-06:00

See? See? A photo of my boy, Oatmeal Head! Pretending to be a hipster. He's not a chicken.

Lookit! It's Patches, the crazy dog, asking if she can eat chicken crap. I told her no. It dries out her skin.

Little Jimmy Dickens and Roger are NOT chickens. They're ducks, people. And they're as cute as can be. I'm pretty sure that Jimmy is an Aylesbury and Roger is a black Cayuga. Whatever the heck that means.

Flash, the shadow dog, thinks someone may be at the door. He's about to start barking. He won't stop. No chickens here.

Here's my boy, Poop Head (I forget what we call him here - Poop Head works - he's 14, after all), not holding a chicken while sitting in the living room. Don't believe me?

Okay. I lied. He was holding a chicken. While sitting in the living room. Poop Head is such a ... well, a poop head.

So as long as the chickens are out, here's Mary Ann. She's grown up a bit. Grabby, greedy pig that she is.

Not many people know this, but Mary Ann also likes to drive the family minivan. We don't let her drive very far, for insurance purposes.

My sugar Peep is full of feathers now and looking like the biggest hen in the yard. She's not really. Just quite fluffy. Like me. Yeah.

This is one of my favorite Christmas gifts, a painting of my Peep, done by Oatmeal Head's girlfriend, Owlie.

What can I say? Mary Ann, Ginger and Caramel take smoke breaks too.

Here's hoping you all had a very merry Christmas! Wishing you all a great 2012.

Until I write again ...

Flea

I Have No Idea What I'm Posting

2011-11-28T18:21:00.000-06:00

Until I write again ...

Flea

Fowl Things Are Afoot

2011-11-15T17:39:00.000-06:00

Mary Ann. Eats anything she can get her beak on. She's even started jumping for food, like a dog.

Mary Ann and Ginger. My Hunny thinks he built vegetable beds. They know better. Their own personal tanning beds.

Goof Ball and Mary Ann. I can't convince the boy not to bring chickens into the house!

Peep does NOT approve of Fred and Bessie. More's the pity.

Roger and Little Jimmy Dickens. I think they doubled in size daily for the first month. Silky-soft and thick with feathers. Roger's quack is quite loud when he feels abandoned. Like when I go in to fill his water bottle ...

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken World

2011-11-12T08:43:00.001-06:00

We're having a blast with these chickens. Two eggs a day (Ginger and Caramel), poo everywhere, straw to muck, flies ... Don't EVEN get me started on the flies.

We love them. Obviously.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Peaceful Morning

2011-11-02T08:26:00.001-05:00

The back porch is so peaceful in the mornings. Peep on my lap, or preening near my feet. The girls in the compost pile, scratching for bugs. Roger and Little Jimmy Dickens playing in puddles I've made for them.

Roger and Little Jimmy Dickens? Why, they're my birthday ducks. Aren't they darling? They're about a month old now. Ornery and independent, waddling and quacking everywhere they go.

Y'all know we live on less than half an acre? In a cul-de-sac. In the suburbs. You, too, could have chickens and ducks. Stinky creatures to entertain you.

On a sad note, Polish is a rooster, through and through. He went to a new home. And he's not a Polish rooster, but a Brabanter, some kind of ancient Dutch chicken that's rare. How he wound up in Oklahoma is anybody's guess.

Back to my biddies. Y'all have a great day!

Until I write again ...
Flea

Hi!

2011-09-28T21:41:00.001-05:00

Have I given up blogging? It looks like it. I want to say no, but am not sure. I'm guessing that once it's colder I'll spend less time with the chickens.

The photo is my youngest with Polish. Evidently she snuggled right in. He brings the chicks in periodically, or they'll stand at the back door and wait for me to leave it open so they can come in and explore. They're funny girls.

No eggs yet. I expect some in the next two or three weeks. Can't wait!

The girls are all healthy and beautiful. Am posting from my phone and haven't figured out how to attach more than one photo. Sorry. Peep is growing so.

Going to see Tim Hawkins tomorrow night with friends. Early birthday gift. Fire fire fire fire ants!!!

Have been reading more than usual. That's not good. Means I'm keeping my mind busy enough not to think. Time to put down the books - and the iPhone - and back away. And go to sleep.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Update, August

2011-08-19T10:09:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the August chicken update! My little Peep is growing, but it seems that her progress is really SLOW. Here's Peep at a week:

There was a second Cochin, but it died the first day

Here's Peep at about a month:

Her ugly duckling/commandant phase

Here's Peep at about two months:

Looking more like a real chicken

Here's Peep now, at about three months:

I guess she's grown. She's mighty cute any way you slice it.

What was once a flock of six has been cut to five. Our beautiful Red began cockadoodledooing one morning about a week ago. Woke the kids at five AM. He was twice the size of the others. Red is now living somewhere in west Tulsa, enjoying life with seven hens about his age. The new dad was so excited to meet other backyard chicken enthusiasts. Bye Red!

Such a handsome rooster. A real shame we couldn't keep him.

The other girls are nearly four months old now. I'm told to expect eggs from them in late September or sometime in October. Say hello to Polish (her breed and her name, as in the sausage):

We think Polish might actually be a pirate - is there such a thing as a chicken pirate?

Caramel, the lovely, sweet, sleek chick:

She and Polish came as part of a trio. The rooster found a new home within three days of their arrival.

Mary Ann, probably the meekest of the ladies:

I planted an egg one morning before work and look! Up came a chicken! This one LOVES her dirt baths.

And Ginger, she of the green legs, sister to Mary Ann. I adore her fluffy cheeks:

Ginger has attitude. And they all peck at my wee Peep. Grr.

I can't even begin to tell you all how much I'm enjoying having chickens in my backyard. I spend an hour with them nearly every morning, right as the sun is coming up. Even when we were having days (more than a month's worth) of 110+ degree temps, the mornings on the patio, in the shade, were always breezy and somewhat cool. Spending time with the girls lowers my blood pressure and gives my days a calm, happy start.

I mean, what better way to start a morning than with a little Cochin chicken in your lap, right?

I'm pretty sure Peep loves our mornings together. Especially since I protect her from the other girls while she eats breakfast. They're mean girls when it comes to Peep.

Excuse me while I play new mom? Peep starts her mornings in my lap, sending emails and text messages:

I reversed the camera on the phone to catch this shot. Peep is truly captivated by the iPhone's screen.

Seriously. She pecks my iPhone all the freakin' time. She's fairly well potty trained when it comes to mom's lap, almost never soiling my pj's. I keep wipes on the porch and throw everything in the wash when I go in. Peep also likes to peck my glasses and bite my bottom lip. No idea why with the bottom lip.

The ickiest part of having chickens is the poo. All over the porch. And the dogs like to eat their feed when they go out. Oh, so far the dogs give the ladies a wide berth and vice versa. It's working out well. I just don't let the dogs out on their own when the girls are out and about, which is pretty much dawn to dusk.

Did I tell you about the apple tree? The chicks like to perch there if we don't put them away before dusk. See Mary Ann? I'm afraid I might have blinded her for a moment.

Chicken in a tree - gah!

So. That's about it. Other than searching for flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Fall is coming and with it cooler mornings. I'm not willing, yet, to give up my time with the girls in the mornings. We'll see.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Adoption Book

2011-08-17T09:58:00.000-05:00

So a couple of weeks ago I had a book review/author interview/giveaway. Yeah, I'm just now getting around to actually choosing a name. Sorry. August is my busiest month this year, but I scored a day off in the middle of the week and am taking advantage of it.

Three people commented. The first is the woman in charge of the book tour, so she doesn't count. But! I'm replacing her name with Sherri's, a RL friend who tried several times to comment for an entry but her computer was giving her grief. Let's see what the random generator does, shall we?

It says two! That would be Laura-Peach, of Silence is Broken! Awesomeness! Her story is amazing. Laura is one of the most open, honest people I know virtually and I'm glad she won Praying Through Your Adoption. Yay!

More to come later. Chicken updates and what not. :)

Until I write again ...

Flea

Praying Through Your Adoption, a Giveaway

2011-07-25T12:25:00.001-05:00

Blog buddies! Today's post is brought to you courtesy of Christian Speaker Services! I periodically sign up to receive a book, sometimes (like today) to be given away to a commenter on my blog. Today's book is about a subject which has been in circulation in our home and, once or twice, here on this blog. I think that in looking over this book I've finally put the subject to rest in my heart. I think.

Praying Through Your Adoption is a very good book. Brief. Personal stories from different families. Prayers and scripture. Well done. Heartfelt. And near to my heart. I've mentioned here that the Hunny and I considered adopting off and on for years. His sisters are adopted. I was adopted by my dad when my mom married him. Our church has a huge adoption ministry and the preschool looks like a mini UN. So I jumped at the chance to snatch this book and read it. I'm glad I did.

Pretty sure we won't adopt. But maybe foster care is in our future.

I adore this, one of her favorite quotes: “My friends, adoption is redemption. It's costly, exhausting, expensive, and outrageous. Buying back lives costs so much. When God set out to redeem us, it killed Him. And when He redeems us, we can't even really appreciate or comprehend it.”

Michele C. Scott is the author, and I'm posting an interview with her, to give insight and background on her journey through adoption. I hope that some of you are on the same journey and encourage you to leave a comment so you might win a copy of the book!

What can you tell us about yourself, your childhood, and the present?

I grew up as an only child in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Faith was a vital part of our family life, so I believed in God from an early age. About mid-way through college, after heartaches and some poor decisions, I decided to trust Jesus and the plans He has for my life. I graduated, moved to the suburbs, and married my husband, Eric. I worked in the corporate world and Christian ministry before becoming a work-at-home mom through adoption.

 When did you first realize you wanted to become a writer?

I started writing poems and stories for fun as a child. I even had a poem published in Highlights for Children. Through high school and college I enjoyed researching and writing papers, but I never considered becoming a professional writer until I wrote Praying Through Your Adoption.

What inspired you to write Praying Through Your Adoption?

I've been talking to God in prayer for as long as I can remember. I turned to prayer during our infertility, and I had planned to pray through a pregnancy if that had been God's plan. While adopting our son from Russia, we experienced painful delays and obstacles, such as increased fees and additional paperwork. At a particularly low point in the adoption process, I participated in an online prayer vigil that directed me to pray for very specific aspects of adoption – from government officials to waiting children. I realized the power of prayer specifically in adoption and saw the need to help other families pray through their adoptions as well.

How did you come up with the title?

Becoming an adoptive family is a process. First, you make decisions about the type of adoption and the age of the child you wish to pursue. Then you work to become approved, educated, and prepared for welcoming and parenting this new child. Praying Through Your Adoption shows families how to rely on God and their faith through the entire journey of creating and nurturing their forever family.

What other life experiences shaped you to write this book?

Wow, many life experiences influenced this book. Our infertility is probably the biggest since the longing and waiting for our son is a large portion of our story. But even getting laid-off right before our adoption, experiencing post-adoption depression, and dealing with special needs made me want to encourage others dealing with similar difficulties.

What was the hardest part of writing your book?

Retelling my experience with post-adoption depression was hard. After our difficult time becoming parents, I never imagined I'd feel overwhelmed, anxious, and depressed as a new mom. As much as I wanted to skip over that chapter in my life and in the book, I felt it was important to paint a realistic picture for prospective adoptive families. Thankfully, other adoptive families were willing to share their real-life joys and challenges in the book as well.

What's one of the most important things people need to know about adoption?

One of my favorite quotes in the book is from the late Derek Loux, an adoptive father of and an advocate for orphans. He said,

“My friends, adoption is redemption. It's costly, exhausting, expensive, and outrageous. Buying back lives costs so much. When God set out to redeem us, it killed Him. And when He redeems us, we can't even really appreciate or comprehend it.”

Derek's words capture so much. There is loss, and, yes, there are sacrifices – financial and otherwise – in adoption. But the rewards for answering God's call to care for orphans are priceless.  

Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

In writing the book, I had the opportunity to feature around 20 families and their unique adoption stories. No matter the circumstances, I could see the special love that ordinary families experience as forever families. I'm grateful for their transparency and support for this project, and I think the readers will be, too. 

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

With over 143 million orphans across the globe, I would love to see more families consider adoption. But I deeply respect the person who reads this interview or picks up this book and, for whatever reason, decides adoption is not right for them. I hope they would at least consider providing prayer support and perhaps even financial support to families pursuing adoption.

Where can readers learn more about you and adoption?

I encourage readers to visit www.PrayLoveAdopt.com, a website I created to provide information, encouragement, and prayer support for families in any stage of the adoption journey. Visitors can read an excerpt from Praying Through Your Adoption and order a paperback or e-book copy if they desire. They can also visit my blog, www.MommyForward.com, and my main website, www.MicheleCScott.com to learn more about me and my other projects.

Leave a comment. I'll choose via random generator on Friday morning. Will let y'all know both here and on FaceCrack when the winner is chosen.

Until I write again ...

Flea
I was given a complimentary copy of this book from the author in exchange for posting the author’s interview on my blog. This blog tour is managed by Christian Speaker Services (www.ChristianSpeakerServices.com).

Book Review, Chasing Sunsets

2011-07-07T21:31:00.000-05:00

Hola! Today's book, Chasing Sunsets, by Eva Marie Everson, is the first in the Cedar Key series. I believe the second one will be released in a bit and that she's working on the third. I could be wrong.

First, let me put on the table that I know Eva Marie. I was a member of her writing critique group, Word Weavers, back in Orlando several years ago. I was only there a brief stint, but she ran the show for a while, quite well. I thought I knew how to write when I joined the group, but it was from Eva Marie and Janice Elsheimer that I really began to see and experience writing through the eyes of a writer. Thank you, ladies!

I think I've read nearly every book Eva Marie has written or co-written, fiction and non. Some of my favorites are the Potluck Club series and Things Left Unspoken. Chasing Sunsets is an interesting addition to her fiction. Cedar Key is deep-south Florida, a small beach community, littered with snow birds and tanned locals. Immediately I loved the setting, having lived in Florida for eleven years. Made me just a little homesick.

The main character, Kimberly, I took an instant but subtle disliking to. Couldn't put my finger on it initially, but she unfolds as tightly wound, needing to be in control of her surroundings. I wanted to smack her around, mom to mom, woman to woman. She's divorced, holding tightly to her two boys, who both need their father as much as they need her, if not more. But I hurt for her and wanted to see her come to life, so I kept reading.

Eva Marie does a beautiful job of letting us see Kimberly as she discovers herself and her past, as she unlocks the door of her heart, in painful, healing ways. I won't lie to ya - I pretty much wanted to smack Kimberly all the way through the book for the way she handles things, the speed she takes a new relationship. But I can't help liking her and cheering her on as she faces into the demons of her past and allows for personal change.

Eva Marie's descriptions are beautifully done. I'm not a visual reader and don't usually care about setting, but I could see everything, every nuance. The beach, marsh, boats, her house and wardrobe. The ways she moves. Love it.

And her neighbor! Patsy! I LOVE Patsy. I can't WAIT till the next book. There had better be more Patsy in the next book is all I'm sayin'.

Overall, I truly enjoyed Chasing Sunsets. It's a great summer read, especially if you're spending time at the beach or on a lake. I hope you'll find a copy for yourself. I read mine on my Kindle, which Eva Marie refused to sign for me last time I saw her. :( Next time I'm taking a black sharpie to the conference and am just going to have everyone sign the Kindle. So there.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Oops!

2011-07-05T21:11:00.001-05:00

Well dang! I forgot to add a photo of the wicked step-sisters! This is Ginger, one of my favorites.

Chicken Update ... and Stuff

2011-07-05T08:57:00.000-05:00

I promise, barring my whole world exploding before tomorrow night, that I'll have a book review up tomorrow. I finished a new release on Friday, but I like to sit with the contents of a read before reviewing. See if the characters and story follow me around. This book is trailing me, so I'll be reviewing it.

Peep! Peep peep peep peep peep!

Isn't she darling? Doesn't she look like one of the characters from the Beatles' movie Yellow Submarine?

Here are her wicked step-sisters.

I say that, but things are going fairly well between them all. Peep is living in a separate cage, since she's three weeks younger than the other girls, and her breed, the Cochin, is slow to mature. She's still wee for her age.

Yesterday, though, our country's Independence Day, Peep chose to begin vying for her own independence. Mommy prompted, of course. I let her walk out of her cage on her own. Just walked away from her after opening the door. She scrambled to follow me, peeping all the way. She's also testing her wings. She'll run and hop, then fly a few feet. Cutest thing ever.

She's also been running after the other chicks in a "Hey guys! Wait up! Where ya goin'? Can I come? WAIT FOR MEEEE!!!" kind of way. It's adorable. I hang around a few steps behind, just in case one of them tries to beat her up. They respect the big mama hen. I think we'll keep going this way for a week or so, with me backing off a little at a time, letting her find her way with the group.

Keeping chickens cool in this heat? WOO! It's been consistently 103 and above daily for the last couple of weeks. I've been putting gallon jugs of ice in their coop mid-day. Had a box fan set up just outside the coop, blowing the length of it. And let me TELL you what the heat does to chicken poo! The SMELL!!! Nauseating.

Gratuitous Peep shot

So yesterday the peeps were moved to the one mature tree in the way-back corner of the yard. They're now in the shade, away from the brick skirt around our house which holds heat like an oven, away from the neighbors. Nobody wants that smell in their backyard. And they seem to be cooler and happier.

The ladies have also found a cool spot to take dust baths, just under the raised herb beds they're so fond of. Hilarious to watch them rolling in the dirt like a dog or horse rolls in grass.

How Goof Ball and Peep celebrate the fourth

Sorry there aren't more photos. I'm running off to work. Will see you all tomorrow? With a review? And hopefully I'll have time to read some of your more recent posts. I've been so bad this summer. Well, and I've been writing my own book, which means staying off the computer. Because I wander around the internets when the computer is on.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Update!

2011-06-27T12:22:00.000-05:00

I LOVE MY PEEPS!

There. I said it. Don't you feel better? I know I do.

Okay, so Peep is growing as slowly as molasses pours in January. The other five peeps are growing in leaps and bounds. Lookit my baby Peep!

Aren't her bell bottoms the cutest things ever?!?

What she really likes, though, is to peck at my iPhone while I'm trying to photograph her, or trying to type on FaceCrack. I think she thinks the symbols and images are bugs.

So ugly she's cute

Here are Polish (as in the nationality or sausage, since that's her breed), Red, Caramel, Ginger (her feet are green) and Mary Ann (her feet are blue):

Of course you can't see their feet. And of course they aren't in order. Left to right it's Polish, Caramel, Ginger, Red and Mary Ann

Polish is a royal pain in the butt. She's mean to my Peep. She fights with the others all the time. Seems to want to be the top hen in the pecking order. But Red, from our original chicken threesome, is also a dominant bird. They're living together somewhat harmoniously, probably because it's too hot to fight much, but I can't help but wonder if a fight's not brewing somewhere down the line.

Red's a fiesty girl!

Ginger is shy

I enjoy the chickens immensely. Every morning I spend forty five minutes to an hour sitting on the porch with Peep on my shoulder or lap, snuggling, while the other five run around the yard eating bugs and scratching the ground. We do the same thing in the evening before dusk, but I'll put Peep in the herb or vegetable beds so I can weed and she can play at being a big chicken. Mostly she runs back to me. Sometimes she'll flap her wings, trying out the new feathers. More often she just wants me to scratch her chest while she naps. Cute thing.

Her coloring is pretty. I think she'll be a golden laced Cochin, like this one.

I knew this about chickens, but they've been so darn adorable that I'd forgotten - chickens stink! Their poo is nasty. And everywhere. And my dogs want to eat it. And the poo attracts flies. Last week my Hunny came out to the porch and grabbed the broom, then hose, and said, "I know we raise chickens, but we can't let our back yard look like the Beverly Hillbillies anymore." Thanks Hunny. Does that mean I can't get my cement pond? Seriously, though. Chickens are messy and smelly.

I still love them.

So that's the update in a nutshell. Peeps are growing. I'm enjoying quiet time with them. They're relaxing creatures. We all love holding them. They love running all over the yard.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Book Review, Peter and the Starcatchers

2011-06-24T15:01:00.000-05:00

I know, it's the not the grown-up novel I promised. Still reading the one I want to review, and just finished Grisham's The Testament (good plot, but classic Grisham style - reminded me why I stopped reading him over a decade ago). Today I bring you a children's novel, Peter and the Starcatchers, by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson.

I picked this up for Goof Ball a couple of years ago, thinking it would interest him. I seem to be the last to know what will interest my children when it comes to books, unfortunately. He likes zombies and World War II. Period. Oh, and Neal Schustermann. Yeah. This book sat on the shelf for two years. Then I cleaned Goof Ball's room and found ALL KINDS of interesting stuff. But let's limit ourselves to the book, eh?

Peter and the Starcatchers is a prequel to Peter Pan. Pirates. Orphan boys. Rich rajahs. Star stuff with magic power. Ships and bad guys and adorable girls and a crocodile! Humor by the bucket load, but subtle for the most part. I DEFINITELY recommend this book as a read-aloud for young-ish children, particularly if they've seen or read Peter Pan. Barry and Ridley do a phenomenal job of unpacking the story, taking us backward in time to see the characters before we knew them. Almost like X-Men: First Class, but with magic and pirates and Peter! The character development for people we already know and love is awesome!

Oh, I wish my boys were still eight and five! I'd read this to them in a heartbeat. As things stand, I still may ask Oatmeal Head to read it, as he'd appreciate the humor. Definitely a laugh-out-loud book. Please, if you have elementary aged kids, or grandkids, do yourself a favor and read this book to them. You'll both appreciate the depth and humor of Peter and the Starcatchers. You'll create memories with your child that won't be undone.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Growing Pains

2011-06-20T13:15:00.000-05:00

I went away for the weekend. Didja miss me? Didja? Huh?

Three days isn't very long to be gone from the Hunny and kids. Three days is a very long time to be gone from my Peep. See my Peep as a baby, just about three weeks ago?

On or about May 30th, posing with Fred and Bessie

See my Peep when I held her this morning?

Looking a little like a buzzard, but nowhere near the feathers of the other peeps

Freakin' eh. Little monster is growing like crazy.

I was worried, for awhile, that Peep seems to be waaaaay behind the others in her growing and getting feathers. Here's a shot of three of the others about Peep's age today:

The only thing they're missing here is their head feathers

Huge difference, huh? Then I read, just this morning in my chicken magazine, that Cochins (Peep's breed) are slow to mature. Whew! Poor wee Peep. The other chickens pick on her.

In other news, my Hunny's birthday is this coming weekend. And I plan to do a book review in the next day or two. Maybe a couple of reviews - one adult fiction and another children's chapter book fiction. I finally read Peter and the Starcatchers last week. LOVED it.

That's it. Y'all go on and get back to what you were doing. Solitaire on the computer or whatever. I'm going to get back to my lovely, soothing ironing.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Goof Ball

2011-06-15T20:10:00.000-05:00

Goof Ball will be 14 on Friday. He's been to a week of scout camp, countless scout overnights, nights away with friends. All over the last four years. Monday he left for church camp.

Four days. With people he knows. Including girls.

He was some nervous. I couldn't figure out why. At first I thought it was the showers - something about doors on showers and hearing stories about camps with no doors on showers. We checked the camp website. Curtains they have. Curtains are good enough.

Then I thought maybe it's the fact that he has to shower at all. I don't think he ever showered when camping with the scouts. No girls around, hence no need to shower. Nah, that can't be it.

Maybe it's the whole girl thing. Middle school girls in swimsuits. Hmm. No, I'm thinking that's probably a plus.

Sports? Surely there isn't too much in the way of sports. Goof Ball has a C-N bar tarsal coalition, or bones where joints should be connecting his heels to his ankles. Sports hurt his ankles. But if he stays in the water, he should be fine, right?

I just don't know.

Maybe it's that his birthday is Friday and he'll be getting into town late Thursday night and he doesn't think we'll celebrate. That's probably what it is. I hope that's all it is.

Thing is, we got him something cool, something he's been asking for for six months. And I'm cleaning his room while he's gone - something I've never done for him. That's right. You heard me right. I don't clean my kids' rooms. Hopefully it will be cheerful for him.

Cleaning his room - it's made me sad. We'll be homeschooling this youngest child in the fall. He's been bullied at school the whole four years he was in. He's so ADD, poor thing, and so nostalgic and empathetic. I've been finding things in his room from his earliest childhood. Poppers, his big floppy stuffed tiger, tucked behind his bed. Got that when he was three. Beanie babies. Beginning readers.

Other things, like piles and piles of clothes. Trash. Bits of broken toys he can't or won't part with. I'm throwing away the broken things. Throwing away clothes. Bedding. He has so much bedding. It was a mess in there. I was nearly in tears all day.

He's under there somewhere ...

The chaos. The stuff he clings to. The clothes. The mess. The way an ADD adolescent lives. I get it. It breaks my heart. It hurts. I didn't throw away the good stuff. Really. And I don't even know how to teach him how to do it right. I still haven't learned. It hurts.

I'll have him all to myself next week while his siblings are at camp. I'm looking forward to spending time with the boy. Hearing about camp. But right now? Sad. Sad he went away to camp reluctant and nervous. Sad about the state of his room. Sad that I'm so unsure of what to do. Sad to feel it all, experience it so deeply, knowing that there's no easy answer for my sweet boy.

He truly is a sweet boy. See this boy? I'm proud of him. Glad he's mine. I love him.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Peep in an Herb-An Jungle

2011-06-13T21:00:00.001-05:00

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Watch (yes, yes - another one)

2011-06-10T06:47:00.002-05:00

I know, I know ... another chicken watch. But! We have new feathered friends. Lookit!

Yes. It looks like one is a rooster. Yes. He's being listed on Craigslist as we speak.

They're still a little camera shy. Lemme try again ...

The one in the middle has an afro. Isn't she the cutest thing EVER?

Dang it! Okay then - let's attempt the three big peeps who live here already.

Scraggly looking critters, aren't they?

Little boogers. They're out of their coop and catching bugs instead of posing. One more time:

The red one's a runner

Stink. Well there's always Peep, who's a camera hog. Peep?

Yay! Peep's also a pig. She eats 24/7. Growing like a weed.

Thanks for popping in to see the chicks!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Scream, a Book Review

2011-06-09T07:03:00.000-05:00

This week's review is Scream, by Mike Dellosso. Mike writes horror/suspense, which I'm slowly learning to love, and Scream was a good way to acclimate myself with the genre. Since I can't seem to get more than 30 pages into Misery yet. I'm building up, see.

While at the writers conference, I met Mike at lunch. Got to talk to him for a bit, hear the back story on how he came to writing, hear about his darling family (saw his beautiful girls and wife at the banquet the last night). He's a gem. My friend, Heather, especially enjoyed getting to know him, since she writes mystery and suspense.

I picked up Scream for my Oatmeal Head, thinking it would be nice summer reading for him. He's not too interested in books, but his computer was recently revoked, so I'm thinking summer reading might now be right up his alley. Scream is a great summer read - not War and Peace, the characters are interesting and I cared enough about them to keep going. I love good character development!

So here's the deal: the main character, Mark, is separated from his wife. He's driving home late one night from work, talking to his best buddy on his cell phone, when the reception goes wonky and blood-curdling screams break in. Hair-raising, pit of Hell screams. Ten minutes later, the friend dies in a fiery car crash. That's the first few pages.

The fun part is that this happens multiple times in the book. Mark gets a phone call, he's talking, blood-curdling screams, death. I am SUCH a wuss. It took me THREE DAYS to read this book. I kept putting it down because I was freaking out, not wanting to find out what happened next. Gah!

The secondary plot (at least, that's what I initially thought it was), was equally creepy. Women being abducted, flashbacks to the abductor's childhood trauma. In and out of the story it kept jumping, keeping me on my toes.

I liked Scream. The characters are all faced with the ultimate question: "If I die right now, what happens to me?" Mark especially, as he watches people drop like flies all around him, hears and sees the terror. It's weird and awesome.

If you're looking for something interesting and different, something for a beach read, this book is great. I don't, however, recommend you read it late into the night, or while you're on a camping trip. That would be bad. Unless you're into that kind of scare thing.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Books and Stuff

2011-06-08T10:52:00.001-05:00

I'll be doing another book review tomorrow - Mike Dellosso's Scream. Stay tuned for details on a creepy horror book!

Hopefully I'll be reviewing another book next week - Eva Marie Everson's Chasing Sunsets. I bought it for my Kindle yesterday (poor neglected Kindle), and will start it this afternoon. Have to finish Scream first. Taking me awhile to read Scream - it freaks me out and I keep putting it down.

I started Stephen King's Misery a couple of weeks ago. Talk about creeping me out. I think I'm maybe 30 pages in. Right from the beginning I knew things would go VERY BADLY for the main character. Tough to stick with it with his future looking so painful from the outset.

Read another Gansky last week, Submerged, third in a series. Very good. I recommend the entire series. Kind of mystery meets thriller meets paranormal. Next week I hope to read a Gansky collaboration. Since I'm at the doctor's office with Maybelline, I don't have the title in front of me.

Maybelline might have strep, but probably not. Bad sore throat, lots of drainage, cough. We'll see. She goes to camp in a week and a half, so getting better is a priority.

I'll be popping around this evening, visiting most of you. Leave me a comment if you're not in my blogroll and I'll come say hi.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Watch!

2011-06-06T18:30:00.000-05:00

Just watching them grow ...

A saucy little chick

Peep loves her mama

Steppin' up

Peep and Dad

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Watch 2011

2011-06-01T06:31:00.022-05:00

They're officially Goof Ball's chickens, but the Hunny and I are having our share of fun while we can. Today's story will be told with pictures.

A boy and his chick

The Hunny and his chick, having a convo

Because one chick is never enough for the Good Flea - they thought my eyes looked like bugs and tried to peck them out

Awww! There's something touching about this shot

I sure hope they're all girls ...

Until I write again ...

Flea

Unwind, Book Review

2011-05-31T07:46:00.000-05:00

Why didn't you tell me, bloggy friends, that kids' books could be so creepy? Goof Ball, Oatmeal Head, Owlie and I went to the library for a book signings a few weeks ago. There were two authors - Neal Shusterman and Gary Paulsen - who Goof Ball loves. I'd only heard of one (Shusterman), but I love a good book signing, so we all headed out.

OMG - the two authors spoke for a bit and I fell in LOVE with Gary Paulsen. He wouldn't let me take him home with me, but I could have tucked him in my pocket and squirreled him away. What a story teller! Unfortunately we only picked up one of his books, Hatchet. I've yet to read it.

Shusterman, on the other hand, is one of Goof Ball's favorite authors. We snagged a couple of his books, Full Tilt and Unwind. Full Tilt is sitting next to me, waiting to be read, but I was kept awake one night reading Unwind. I was kept awake the next night just thinking about Unwind.

The concept is chilling - sometime in the future, abortion is outlawed. In order to make the pro-abortion and pro-life camps happy, the legislation is written to allow parents to have children over the age of 13 and under 18 "unwound". Each part of said child has to be used in some other person. In other words, the child is, technically, killed and redistributed. But not killed, according to the way it's done and to how their parts are used. Freaky.

So if your kid isn't performing up to snuff, if they're getting into trouble, what have you, you can sign papers to have them unwound. Especially if you have another child or two who pleases you.

It's a spooky book concept. The biggest hole in the plot, from a parent's perspective is that, DUH - what parent of a 13 year old wouldn't sign those papers?!? Really? What were the legislators thinking? But as a pre-teen reading it? Scary stuff.

Shusterman did a fantastic job making this believable. And frightening. Well written. Gave me the heebie-jeebies. I want to read Full Tilt, too, but the premise for it looks even more unnerving. I'll let you know if I work up the courage to read it at some point. Until then, if you like futuristic young adult thrillers, I give Unwind two thumbs up!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Revised Chicken Watch

2011-05-29T09:35:00.002-05:00

Lou the Loud, the cat we love to hate, got to poor little Peep. It was a sad, sad day. Many tears were shed. Many.

But don't feel sorry for us. Well, yes - feel sorry for us. Very sorry. Peep's friends are here. All five of them. And the menfolk are busy building a moveable coop.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Friday Meme

2011-05-27T12:36:00.001-05:00

I found this fabulous meme at Froggarita's blog. Scrumptious! Play along, will you?

With this Meme I will ask you 5 question which could be book related or not so we can get to know each other better! The only rule is you can't use the same answer twice!

1. What new book coming out soon do you plan to buy?
2. What upcoming book are you dying to read?
3. What series is a must read for you?
4. What new author have you found so far in 2011?
5. What little known author are you a fan of?

The Good Flea's responses:

1. Eva Marie Everson's latest book, Chasing Sunsets, will probably be my next new book purchase. It's set in Cedar Key, FL, so I look forward to visiting familiar places.

2. Upcoming as in soon to be released? I just told you. Upcoming as in I plan to read shortly? Stephen King's Misery. I'm actually about 30 pages in and already uneasy, but enjoying the book.

3. I can only get so far in a series before I'm done. I'd have to say, though, that Jonathan Kellerman's Alex Delaware series is one I've read nearly every book of.

4. This is an easy one! Nancy Rue! So far I've only read The Reluctant Prophet, but it's a great book and I'm hoping the rest of hers are as enjoyable!

5. That's a tough one. How many of you have read Al Gansky? I don't know that he's little-known, but I can't always find his older work. LOVE his mystery/suspense/supernatural thrillers.

Play along, will you? Let me know if you blog this one.

Until I write again ...

Flea

The Reluctant Prophet, Book Review

2011-05-25T21:25:00.000-05:00

At the Blue Ridge Writers Conference (where I had lots of fun and walked around with pneumonia and met new people and struggled to breathe and learned so much I thought my head would explode), I picked up some novels and had a few signed. One of my favorites so far is by a writer who's evidently written quite a bit, but whom I've never heard of. Allow me to introduce you?

Bloggy friends, meet Nancy Rue, author of The Reluctant Prophet.

This book was an unexpected delight. The cover illustration is a woman on a motorcycle. First page of chapter one, the main character, Allison, is sitting in church. I was prepared to be less than dazzled. I went in with prejudice, frustrated to see the book setting begin in a church. Somehow that sets the stage, for me, for disappointment on a grand scale.

Allison and her nudges from God turns my prejudices and expectations on their ear pretty quickly. Nancy Rue drew me in, kept me there, threw people all over the place in the process, and did NOT disappoint with the ending. Nothing neat, tidy or formulaic about The Reluctant Prophet. I LIKE IT. Very much.

What's not to like? A middle aged woman, is told, by God no less, to buy a Harley. Then learn to ride it - something she's never had a desire to do. She meets a whole group of people who turn her prejudices and expectations on their ear, the Harley riders. LOVE. Then - THEN - she takes on the city's underbelly. One person at a time. And not how you'd think.

Cool trailer, huh? Make you wanna read the book? It's worth your time, I think. And it's a quick read - perfect for a day at the beach under an umbrella. Let me know, if you read it, what you think, please.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Chicken Watch

2011-05-24T08:07:00.001-05:00

A boy and his chick

2011-05-24T07:56:00.001-05:00

The More Important Stuff

2011-05-23T10:57:00.000-05:00

Books, writing, conference ... let's put all that aside. There's more important stuff to consider at the moment. Stuff like this:

ISN'T SHE THE CUTEST WIDDLE THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN?!? She'd better be a she. Or she's a future meal.

Saturday night I'm out with my Hunny and Maybelline, enjoying fine dining and dancing (and Edward Olmos, keynote speaker) at the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce's first annual award banquet in Tulsa. See? My darling daughter and I had a wonderful time.

And she danced with her daddy! I don't dance.

While we were living it up, Goof Ball was out with a friend's husband, supposedly looking for driftwood for me to burn baby animals into. They didn't find any driftwood. That might be because, oh, I don't know, it's kind of tough to find driftwood in a FEED STORE. Yeah. They came home with Nugget. A day old chick of unknown origin. Here's my boy and his chick. She loves him to pieces already.

Here's where I'm begging for information. I've looked up all the fun stuff on caring for chicks. Heck, Goof Ball and Oatmeal Head did all the research online before we ever got home. The part I don't get is what kind of chicken our little Nugget is. She has feathers all the way down her legs and covering her toes. Anyone? Anyone have a clue? I'm hoping whatever kind she is lays tasty eggs.

So it was a crazy weekend. Crazier still that I may be taking a chicken to work with me tomorrow. I'm supposed to check on it five times a day. Why? To make sure it's still alive? Still making that peeping noise? Still pooping everywhere? Why?!? *sigh* I'm just going with it.

Until I write again ...

Flea

All Night Long

2011-05-19T07:56:00.000-05:00

Father's Day is coming! Father's Day is coming!

It's June 19th, to be exact. I wanted to catch your attention well in advance, since you'll want to order this little book if you know a new dad, or an old dad with a new kid.

I've mentioned the book before, but Steve Knight is a local author and his book is the most adorable thing ever. It's the perfect read aloud for every single night of a small child's life. I adore All Night Long and am sure your children or grandchildren will as well. It's a simple poem from a daddy to his child, speaking of love, longing, missing. Sweet.

Melanie Florio's illustrations are gorgeous. I have a weakness for children's book illustrators and she's a new favorite.

So head over to Amazon. Snag a copy. I think you'll love this book, too!

Until I write again ...

Flea

3 Things the Conference Did for Me

2011-05-18T07:35:00.026-05:00

Heading into the writers conference, in the back of my head was the mantra, "I'm doing this for Heather." Not because I didn't want to go, but because I didn't know WHY else I was going to a writers conference. That, and Heather's a REAL writer, working on three separate books (not a series). I just wanted to have fun and be around other creative types. That's a great reason to spend a boat load of money and travel halfway across the country, right?

This conference did three things for me. I'm so glad I went.

1) I realized that I am a writer.

Five years ago when I attended this conference, I wasn't a writer. Not even a beginning one. I had written NOTHING since high school. Nothing. Journal rants about people I couldn't stomach, and records of nightmares I was trying to decipher. Not a writer.

Being with other writers, talking about the craft, exchanging stories and information, answering questions - the week highlighted my writing experience, even if I don't think of myself as prolific.

I have y'all to thank for most of that. Blogging is how I started writing. If y'all weren't such great friends, so encouraging, so hilarious in your comments and your own posts, if I didn't have this community, I never would have kept up with the blogging and probably would have turned exclusively to other art forms. So, thank you!

2) I know a lot more than I thought I did.

I have to thank Lil' Bro here. A couple of years ago I was gung-ho about starting a website about a specific topic to make money. Lil' Bro is in marketing and he knows his stuff. He would talk to me late into the evening about SEO's, the right way to drive traffic to my site, how to title articles and posts, a wealth of information. I took copious notes. I didn't do a whole lot with them, but it sunk in.

This last week, sitting in Al Gansky's Writer for Hire workshop, I realized how much of what he was saying about how to succeed in writing I already knew. Not everything, but enough to text my brother and thank him. That was a good feeling. An I-can-do-this feeling.

3) I'm inspired to write.

I don't necessarily have the energy, but I am inspired. Pneumonia has kicked my tuckus. Typing this is wearing me out. And it's been a long time that I've had one thing or another. Here's hoping antibiotics knocks it out for good and I can stay well.

There are several writing projects I've picked up and discarded, or tucked away, the last couple of years. Listening and interacting last week with faculty and conferees, I realized that the passion for a couple of those projects is still lurking under the surface. One in particular, which I put away because the subject matter is so dark, so not-me. But it begs to be written.

I didn't want to spiral into depression writing the story. Neither did I want to write something upbeat and ruin it. Deb Raney, in her Surprises and Secrets workshop (shhh! I'm going to tell you one of her secrets), talked about writing being depressing when you delve deep into the lives and psyches of the character. Not everything is sunshine and roses.

That was just what I needed to hear. That it's normal to ride emotional roller coasters when developing a character. That it's what I have to do to get the story out.

With all the laughter and tears, the activity and inspiration, these three things meant the most to me. I highly recommend a writers conference if you can find one to attend (if you love to write). Oh! There were also speakers there (public speakers use the written word), editors, writers of every type. Try one out. There is probably a conference near you sometime this year.

Until I write again ...

Flea

2011-05-17T14:43:00.000-05:00

Lookit who's 18!!!

MAYBELLINE!!!

Um, I never did find that logic she wanted for her birthday. Good thing we're not setting her loose on the world yet.

Until I write again ...

Flea

In a Nutshell

2011-05-17T08:24:00.000-05:00

Where to start? Last week I attended the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference in Ridgecrest, NC. It's a mouthful. And a pretty place.

I made friends:

Heather and Konnie - Heather attended with me

Renewed old friendships:

Eva Marie! One of my favorite authors! And a good friend and blogger to boot!

Attended some fantastic workshops, led by authors I admire. Ate cafeteria food that was pretty darned good. Made the mistake of drinking the coffee exactly ONCE. *shudder* That's a note to self right there.

I won't go in-depth about the conference here. We stayed busy and running up and down hills from dawn to past dusk. There were tears, laughter, enlightenment, entertainment, and more learning than I've been able to wrap my brain around. Oh, and tons of inspiration.

What I will do over the next few weeks is review books. Since I've been home I've finished two that authors signed (I have a weakness for author signed books), and a box of books should be arriving from North Carolina this week. I'm pretty excited about reviewing the first one I read, The Reluctant Prophet, by Nancy Rue. Definitely want to read more of her work, maybe find her teen books for some of my favorite kids.

Speaking of my favorite kids, it's off to work I go! I'll be catching up with you all tomorrow - tonight we celebrate Maybelline's 18th birthday!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Casa de Pulga

2011-05-15T09:44:00.002-05:00

I missed my family SOOOO much while I was gone. This is why:

Hunny, Maybelline, Oatmeal Head, Goof Ball and Owlie, all in one place. It's good to be home.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Culinary Shermans

2011-05-14T18:00:00.000-05:00

I just had the best week of my life and it began with liver and onions.

The past eight days I've traveled, almost died, eaten too much, had my brain stuffed to bursting, and been badly mistreated by an airline I once respected. I told my husband this morning that I felt like the week was a sandwich - tasty deli meat, cheese and veggies layered between moldy, maggot-infested bread. I'm going to pick off the top bread and share the veggie layer. Meat and cheese next week!

Heather and greens, together at last

Friend Heather and I left Tulsa last Thursday and flew to Atlanta to see my very favorite aunt, Dr. MAM (she's a newly minted doctor) and spend Mother's Day with her. Heather researched the best fried chicken joints and mapped out the three days in Georgia. Our first stop, on the way from the airport to my aunt's, was a little cafeteria in Tucker, GA, that was featured in Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, called Matthews. Lookit my liver and onions! Can't get that at home. No one else will eat it.

WHY won't my family eat liver and onions?!?

The running joke all week was that we were culinary General Shermans, plowing through all the fried chicken in Georgia. Unfortunately, Matthews doesn't serve fried chicken for lunch on Thursdays. What we had, though, was scrumptious. Bonus? Heather had turnip greens for the first time and fell in LOVE.

The Bear's Den cafeteria fried chicken. Died and went to heaven.

This is the fried chicken at The Bear's Den in Macon. Oh. Em. Gee. It's tied for first place for best fried chicken EVER. Moist, tender, perfectly fried. Their beans were equally delish. Unfortunately, my body was attempting to kill me. More on that another day. The meal was good, though.

Mary, Mary, quite adorable!

My cousin (that's her with her boy) showed Heather the hot pepper vinegar trick for greens and took her experience to a whole 'nother level. It's all Heather. *shudder* Give me the black-eyed peas any day.

These were some scrumpdiddlyitious field peas!

This is Clayton, Georgia's chicken, at the Clayton Cafe. Nom nom nom. The biggest chicken breasts we'd ever seen. The ambiance was almost better than the food. Over heard:
"Are the mashed potatoes real?"
"Well they come from potatoes."
Alrighty then.

*DROOL*

Our last fried chicken stop was, believe it or not, at the Atlanta airport, the only shining moment of the last day, a place called Paschal's. It's a seriously tough call between Pacshal's and The Bear's Den when it comes to the chicken.

Umm. Yeah. It was that good.

I liked it. Very much.

But there is NO CONTEST when it comes to dessert. Feast your eyes ...

I saw angels ascending and descending from Heaven while I ate this. Seriously.

I considered licking the plate. No one in that airport will ever see me again, right? My genteel southern upbringing stopped me (stop sniggering), but not before I thought long and hard. I rarely have red velvet cake because of the dye and my ADD, but this piece was worth breaking the rules for. The creamy chocolate layers with the cream cheese frosting ... to die for.

That, my friends, is the edible version of my trip. Next week? The conference!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Conference

2011-05-11T20:12:00.000-05:00

FYI - Conference? Not relaxing.

On a related note, conference? AWESOME.

Like my big writerly words?

Yeah. Brain fried. Big writerly words to resume next week

Until I write again ...

Flea

Will Resume Shortly ...

2011-05-09T20:40:00.003-05:00

I am (drumroll, please) in Ridgecrest, NC. Blue Ridge Christian Writer's Conference, of all things.

I'm all kinds of excited.

So while I soak up classes, y'all have fun. I'll fill you all in when I return.

-----------------------------

On a separate note, I know I've been ill quite a bit the last six months. It's hampered my blogging quite a bit.

Last Thursday I flew into Atlanta. I was at the tail end of my first case of bronchitis. I thought I was better. Evidently flying and bronchitis don't mix.

Friday night I walked into an Urgent Care clinic. Bronchitis, pneumonia and sinus infection, with a side of acid reflux.

The point of that story is that I fully intend to recover while relaxing, hence getting back to blogging when I return to Tulsa. Really. And reading blogs.

So everyone enjoy your week! I'll be catching up next week.

Until I write again ...

Flea

The Chair

2011-05-01T01:51:00.000-05:00

I have a lovely green chair in my living room. It's The Sick Chair. It's arms are high (nearly to my shoulders) and close, well padded. It's a soft, sueded microfiber. A comfortable, secure chair.

Sitting in my chair, I can hear my children in their rooms if their doors are open. I can hear Goof Ball even when his is closed, since there's an opening in his wall. He talks in his sleep, you know.

It's not always the most convenient chair. I can't, for instance, do handwork (e.g., smocking) in the chair. The embracing arms leave little room for elbows to dance with a needle and floss.

However, on nights like tonight, when I have bronchitis and my cough won't allow me to lie prone, the chair is my best friend. It beckons, swallowing me, allowing me to sleep upright without listing too far to either side.

I know, I know. That's not a photo of the chair. It's Oatmeal Head, Goof Ball and OH's girlfriend, Owlie (we love her). I thought it would be nice to mention that Oatmeal Head turned 17 yesterday. I have two 17 year olds in the house for the next 17 days. Poor kid had a birthday while I was sick. He had a great day, I hope, regardless.

Happy May and happy spring, y'all.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Sorrow

2011-04-25T09:25:00.000-05:00

A week and a half ago I woke to one of the most frightening things I've ever experienced - vertigo. No slight dizziness for me, thanks. My head was a rubber ball half filled with water. The room refused to be still. A fraction of an inch to left or right was enough to start the ship-in-a-hurricane sensation. I sobbed and sobbed, terrified, not thinking straight. Bizarre. And then I slept for nearly two days.

Then it was over.

It's been a strange week since then. Migraine, some dizziness (the doctor said I may be caught off guard by waves of dizziness for two or three weeks. I chose to disbelieve him and was soundly thrashed for my disbelief), gardening, cooking, work. Life. But sadness came with it all.

Not sadness at a specific event. Just general. Maybe it's a result of too much work and no play making Flea a very dull girl. Whatever it is, it took me by surprise. The trigger, though, was a rash of FaceCrack statuses posted by friends over the weekend.

Several people, between Friday and Sunday, said, "This is the perfect night to watch The Passion of the Christ." I don't know if you've seen it, and I highly recommend it if you haven't, but it's a fairly brutal rendition of the cruxifiction of Jesus. Well done, I think. Painful to watch. I've seen it exactly once. It's been my intention, for several years, to watch it again.

Not anymore.

Seeing the status updates made me realize that I'll probably never watch Passion again, and why. The sorrow that swept through me was utter, devastating. I don't want to condemn or criticize my friends - please understand this is the way *I* feel. Everyone experiences things differently. So don't be hatin'.

The sorrow came when I felt that people were ENJOYING watching the film this weekend. Like seeing it again was a thrill (I hope it's not), or some kind of Christian duty to watch and experience it again. Why on earth would I want to watch someone I love dearly be executed? More than once? Why on EARTH would I want to view my best friend being brutally tortured and put to death? AGAIN?!? Even knowing the ultimate outcome. It just hurt. I know that the end, Good Friday, was not the end. I know that Jesus is alive. But I don't want to experience the torture and pain visually, repeatedly.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just where I am right now. Maybe I took the updates the wrong way. I don't know. But please, let me rejoice in the Resurrection, not the agony. It makes me dizzy to think about anything else.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Hiatus

2011-04-13T14:20:00.002-05:00

I just haven't been in the mood to blog. 'Know what I mean? To blog, to write, to communicate much at all. I'm not depressed. At least, I don't think I am ... just busier than a one armed paper hanger. I'll be back again soon, I'm thinking. Until then, have a great spring!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Things That Make My Blood Boil

2011-03-30T14:05:00.000-05:00

This. This right here.

My husband says I get angrier when people cut me off in traffic than when someone insults me to my face. Or when my kids don't do what I ask and get away with it (that last irritates the life out of him). But what really chaps my hide?

People who double park. People who double park in handicapped spots.

People who cut me off in traffic.

People who drive below the speed limit in the left lane.

So. What do I do with all that pent up rage? Wander into my yard. Breathe with me.

Hunny ripped out the ugly evergreen bushes by the front door. There are little seeds in that soil ready to burst through to the surface and TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

There. I feel a little better. Then there are these:

The plain yellow daffodilies may be spent, but these whites are TAKING OVER THE BULB BED!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

*phew* Don't you feel better too?

Now excuse me while I email the first photo to the local police.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Uncool. Mom. Uncool.

2011-03-28T20:12:00.000-05:00

I. AM. OLD.

I knew this. I knew that for 43 I'm an old fuddy-duddy. But I didn't know to what extent I am ...

UNHIP

UNCOOL

ANCIENT

NERDY

OLD

I love Pandora Radio. Don't you? I have all kinds of fun channels on the Pandora app on my phone. Journey. Steven Curtis Chapman. Christmas. Newsboys. Bluegrass. Weird Al.

Y'all know I adore Weird Al. It's really the only Pandora station I listen to. I was listening to it yesterday and it struck me that if the songs weren't Weird Al's, or some other strange humor, they were all '80's music.

ALL. EIGHTIES. MUSIC.

And I really only love Weird Al anymore when it comes to music. I think it's fun. And hip. And cool.

It's not. It's old. Nerdy. Ancient. Unhip. Uncool.

And I'm very sad now.

Go away.

Let me be old and weird and nerdy in peace. While I watch my favorite video:

Is it better or worse that I like the green screen version best?

Until I write again ...

Flea

The Problem with Pain

2011-03-28T01:55:00.000-05:00

I'm awake. It's one-thirty in the morning and I'm awake. In pain, but only the average garden variety. Hormonal headache. I almost view it in a friendly light when it keeps me up like this. Lots of good thinking and praying happens in the quiet and dark.

Of course, I could do without the pain.

Or could I?

My writing group has been talking a lot about pain the past few weeks. Not many of us care for it. But pain is good. Right? It really is. It tells us something is wrong, that we need to pay attention to something. Sometimes pain can be managed, but can't be fixed. Sometimes it can barely be managed. But most of the time the pain points to something that can and should be dealt with. And not always by us directly. Sometimes a professional needs to pinpoint and fix the source of pain.

My daily headaches, for instance, were tension headaches. They were trying to tell me that my life is stressful and that I was holding the stress inside too much. That my posture wasn't necessarily good. That I needed to cry and laugh and emote more in general. Sometimes specifically. Then a chiropractor came along and helped fix it. Yay! (That doesn't mean that I no longer need to emote - only that I'm now working from a place where I'm not fighting uphill to do so)

So I've been thinking about pain, not just in myself, but in others.

I think maybe I attract people in pain. Emotional pain. They can sense it in me, maybe. Yet another purpose my headaches serve? Heh. Once upon a time I did one of two things - I either pushed these people away, or I allowed them to dump all over me. I took on their pain for a bit, then pushed them away anyway. Both bad reactions.

I'm learning to respond rather than react. Now I tend to hold a severely hurting person at a slight distance, yet still be inclusive, friendly. I try not to shut people out or draw too close immediately. What I've found is that people in emotional distress have trouble trusting. So if I push them away, they are validated in not trusting others. And if I let them dump, THEN push them away, it's a far worse validation.

I love hurting people. I know what hurt feels like. Very much. I also know I can't fix anyone. And I can't be everyone's best friend.

So I wait and watch and listen. And stay nearby the whole while. Little bits of the trauma spill out. Eventually trust is built, given. Eventually the whole story can come out. And I don't run away or push away.

The other thing about people who are needing emotional CPR? They can be scary, off-putting. It frightens the people who may be able to help them. But see, the scary people, the ones who are protecting themselves, are sending off the same kind of signals that my body gives off when something hurts. OW OW OW OW OW. It's obvious.

I'm not a doctor. Of any kind. Just a mom. So I do the mom thing. I stay nearby. I hold their hand. When they settle down enough to let me get close, I look at the boo boo. I listen to them cry. I might kiss it and make it better, which is nothing magical. Or I might recommend a real doctor.

Listen to your pain. Take time to listen to other people's pain. Really listen, not fix. It's almost always instructive. Builds character. Might even change someone's life. Might change your own life.

I know it changes mine.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Logic

2011-03-24T08:25:00.001-05:00

Last night my daughter, Maybelline, asked for Logic for her eighteenth birthday (in May).

How do I argue with that? How the heck do I respond to that? WHERE DO I BUY LOGIC FOR AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL?!?

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, Same Kind of Different as Me

2011-03-22T20:45:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine loaned me a couple of books and said I needed to read them. I usually ask people if I can borrow books, not the other way around, so this took me by surprise. Pleasant surprise. It's a beautiful thing to be known as a reader.

Same Kind of Different as Me, by Ron Hall and Denver Moore, is a great read. The first 40 or so pages are decent, but don't necessarily hold you. Once past that, OMG. There's no turning back.

ALERT!!! If you read this book, DO NOT look at the photos in the center of the book until you're done reading it! They spoil the second half of the book!

Yes, photos. Meaning this is a true story. And the beauty of Same Kind of Different as Me? It does not in any way read like a biography. It reads like a novel.

There are two voices, both men from the south, raised in vastly different environments. The book flashes back and forth between it's main story line and their growing up experiences. Dallas is probably my favorite of the two men, since I grew up near his home in central Louisiana. Had absolutely no understanding of his upbringing as a sharecropper's son/grandson.nephew, but he unfolds it well.

It's difficult not to give anything away. One man is wealthy, the other homeless. This book is the connecting point between the two. And I cried through most of the second half of the book. Getting through it was tough. And worth it.

Five stars - I highly recommend this book. Know that the authors are Christians, so their views come through. It's well done. I hope you have the opportunity to try this one on for size.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Wee Clown's Return

2011-03-21T06:38:00.018-05:00

Goof Ball has gotten in on the clown act. Initially my most tender hearted teen took pity on his dad and attempted to thwart my every effort to traumatize my husband with clowns. Eventually I got the boy to see that the clown hidings were all in good clean fun.

He's joined in with a vengeance.

Wee clown - my Hunny hid Wee clown in a vase. A waist high vase that's tucked behind his favorite chair. A small child visitor found wee clown. I set him on a bookshelf and forgot about the clown.

Goof Ball found him. And hid him. In plain view. This is in my bedroom:

Less than a week later, we're visiting a friend, Goof Ball and I. There, on the friend's kitchen wall, sitting on a wall ornament, is another little clown. Her husband moves it around the house to scare her. Goof Ball asked to borrow the clown and of COURSE my friend said yes. Two days later, look where we found the new clown:

I love my life. I love my children. It really doesn't get any better than this. Especially knowing I have a drawer full of clowns tucked away for later. Mwahahahahaha!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2011-03-17T06:41:00.002-05:00

Are you wearing your green? Because I'll track you down and pinch you if you're not.

The fam and I got together and did a special little number just for YOU. Enjoy! And don't have too much green beer!

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Credit and Drugs

2011-03-15T07:01:00.000-05:00

How many of you have credit cards? Raise your hand.

Mine is up, very reluctantly. We were credit card free for several years and SOMEONE got a card last year without consulting me. That same someone is responsible for paying it off. Grr. I hate credit cards.

My oldest children, Maybelline and Oatmeal Head, are about to turn 18 and 17. Maybelline will be a senior this coming year and Oatmeal Head a Junior. They're learning to drive (doing pretty well) and have their own jobs and bank accounts. It's all good. So far.

I've been thinking a lot about how to counsel them concerning money. We don't do too well with it ourselves. But I want better for my kids, y'know? And an analogy struck me. Probably one you've heard, but it was new to me. Credit cards are like drugs. So here's what I plan to talk to my kids about. We've already told them that credit cards are the spawn of Satan, but kids don't really listen, so I want to drive the point home in a way that makes sense. Since numbers don't make sense to any of us (interest, blah blah blah).

Drugs. Why does a person do drugs? Initially another person will push the drug on you, right? Say all kinds of seemingly harmless things about it. Whatever. Everybody's doing it. And the drug makes you euphoric, or calms you down, or whatever it is you need to feel. It masks the real issue you're having, rather than forcing you to face into your problems and deal with them.

Next time you're depressed, or needing a lift, it's so much easier to reach for a drug than to look yourself in the eye and ask the tough questions, or to wade through to the other side of the feeling. It becomes a very bad, destructive habit.

Oh, but I can quit anytime I want. Yeah. Right.

VISA sends out letters offering credit cards to college students. Everybody's doing it. Saying all kinds of seemingly harmless things about getting a card. And using the card the first time brings a sense of euphoria or calm or whatever you need to feel. Buy a new iPad and not have to pay for it right away? ROCK ON.

Rather than learn to budget or tighten the belt, the credit card makes it easy to buy impulsively and not face into the real issues. Why do you NEED that right now? What are you masking by using that card? What hole are you filling with an impulse buy?

Then you run out of money at the end of the month. And you need food. Well, there's ramen and beans in the cupboard, but it's not burgers. So you use what little is left on that card to buy consumables. That you'll pay interest on.

Oh, but you can quit any time you want. Yeah. Right.

Maybe this is how I can talk to my kids about credit cards. I don't want anyone to own them. They don't understand, because they haven't lived enough, and because we haven't been the best examples, what debt and financial oppression look like. I'm not necessarily afraid for them, but I'd like it if they left my house doing life well. At least halfway well.

*sigh* We'll see.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Photo Fill-In

2011-03-14T19:28:00.000-05:00

It's been a long, rough couple of weeks, but I've been conscious for nearly all of it, so HOORAY! I've also been taking photos along the way. Some I thought might interest you all.

Remember my attempt at making soap? I made soap again today, using up the rest of the glycerin chunks and some more aloe. I hate that stuff. Stupid whale snot. Here's what it looks like when you scrape the mucilaginous gross stuff out of the leaves:

And this:

_________________________________________

In other news, my two favorite kiddos were at my house Friday. I think you'll remember this one from previous posts:

Ain't he a doll? His sister is just as darling. Especially in our geek glasses.

_________________________________________

The kids are on spring break this week. I'm working three days and taking Goof Ball with me. Maybelline was accepted to the local technical school and will be spending her afternoons in their sound and broadcast program her senior year. Oatmeal Head was accepted into the pre-engineering program at tech. So. And dad will be home some this week, probably giving more driving lessons.

That's about all the fill-in I've got for now. Oh! Going to the Blue Ridge Christian Writer's Conference in May, with friend Heather. I plan on catching up with some of my author friends there and learning as much as my pea-brain can soak up.

NOW I'm done. Y'all have a good one!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, Driven to Distraction

2011-03-08T18:40:00.004-06:00

Is it still? Tuesday? It is? *phew* Happy Fat Tuesday, y'all! All my buds back home are partying hard. Tomorrow they'll wake with hangovers and spend a solemn Ash Wednesday alternating between regret and trying really hard to remember who they are.

Today's review is a book I haven't actually finished, but one I've been going over the parts I have read numerous times. It's non-fiction, so if that's not your thing, I understand you popping off somewhere else. Ta-ta! It's also all about A.D.D., particularly adult A.D.D.

Over the last five years, since my diagnosis, I've read numerous books about A.D.D., many of them not worth the paper they're printed on. At least, not for someone who's actually A.D.D. The last thing I need is an author telling me how to be organized. Puh-lease! Driven to Distraction, by Drs. Ratey and Hallowell, is probably the very best book on the subject I've read to date.

Dr. Hallowell is an A.D.D. adult, so the book, though well structured, tends to rabbit trail a bit. Rather, he breaks into the middle of a point with seemingly random anecdotes. I love it. It reads like I think.

If you've ever wondered seriously if you might be A.D.D., I highly recommend picking up a copy of Driven to Distraction. There are check lists, there are descriptions of the subcategories of A.D.D. (such as anxiety or depression in addition). There are numerous case studies - I found myself and each of my kids in different case studies. There are sections on what being an A.D.D. adult does to a relationship, what it does at work, etc. Enlightening.

One of his theories, which I found interesting, is that America, having much higher A.D.D. rates than other countries, was perhaps founded by A.D.D. individuals. It's very much an inherited trait. And our founding fathers weren't the types who fit into someone's system and sat still for anyone. Makes sense to me.

My particular A.D.D. is the daydreamer type, though I'm not necessarily prone to daydreaming. I'm just not hyper. I like to think of it more as an absent-minded professor type. Yeah.

Seriously - if you're thinking maybe you're a daydreamer, a hyper adult who can't sit still, easily distracted, your mind races for hours before letting you sleep, you never finish what you start, you jump into or out of conversations with wild abandon - maybe you should pick up a copy of this book. Just sayin'.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Impossible Prison

2011-03-04T14:03:00.005-06:00

Did y'all know that I lead a writing group? Did I not tell you? And I use the word "lead" loosely. Truly. I show up every week and ask a few questions, maintain order amongst the ADD individuals who throw things at each other, pass out the PlayDoh and laugh myself silly, along with everyone else in the group.

Actually, my friend Heather runs the group. She just doesn't know it. Shh! Don't tell. I'm happy to let her be the grown up for as long as she will.

This semester our group is going through the book To Be Told, by Dan Allender. I squishy heart this book something fierce. It's all about your story - yours, mine - and how it's been written so far, as well as the future telling of it. We asked the question last week in class, "Looking down the road to the end of your life, what will people say about you? What do you want them to say? What does your life look like at the end and what do you want it to look like?" It's a great way to prompt conversation.

This week we celebrated birthdays in our group. The question was also asked last week, "How do you celebrate the end of a story? How do you celebrate anything?" Lo and behold, three people had birthdays back-to-back! So we decided to celebrate!

Why do I tell you all this? One of our members brought the coolest cake! The one shown above? See the book?

And the words Impossible Prison? Inside joke.

My life right now has me running ragged, asking all kinds of why questions, begging for sleep, researching things I really didn't want to research. In the middle of it all, I'm grateful for my writing friends and the laughter that happens on Thursday nights. A little touch of sanity goes a long way.

And if you're in the Tulsa area, I highly recommend Simply Sweet cakes by Carlene if you're celebrating. Not only was the cake adorable, it was moist and delicious. I'm not a cake person, see. Me and cake, we don't get along so well. But this one was wonderful. You can find Carlene on FaceCrack, or leave me a comment asking for her email or phone number. Yum!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Humor Me

2011-03-01T19:49:00.003-06:00

My apologies for not having a review ready today. The weekend was quite brutal. Maybe one day I'll bring myself to talk about it.

Because I need a good laugh, I went in search of humor. Here's what I found. I hope you enjoy it with me.

Baked Beans

Once upon a time there lived a woman who had a maddening passion for baked beans. She loved them but unfortunately they had always had a very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction for her. Then one day she met a guy and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry she thoughtto herself, " He is such a sweet gentleman, he would never go for this carrying on." So she made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.

Some months later her car broke down on the way home from work. Since she lived in the country she called her husband and told him that she would be late because she had to walk home. On her way she passed a small diner and the odor of the baked beans was more than she could stand. Since she still had miles to walk, she figured that she would walk off any ill effects by the time she reached home. So, she stopped at the diner and before she knew it, she had consumed three large orders of baked beans.

All the way home she putt-putted. And upon arriving home she felt reasonably sure she could control it. Her husband seemed excited to see her and exclaimed delightedly, "Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight." He then blindfolded her and led her to her chair at the table. She seated herself and just as he was about to remove the blindfold from his wife,the telephone rang. He made her promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned. He then went to answer the phone.

The baked beans she had consumed were still affecting her and the pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while her husband was out of the room she seized the opportunity, shifted her weight to one leg and let it go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of pulpwood mill. She took her napkin and fanned the air around her vigorously. Then, she shifted to the other cheek and ripped three more, which reminded her of cooked cabbage. Keeping her ears tuned to the conversation in the other room, she went on like this for another ten minutes.

When the phone farewells signaled the end of her freedom, she fanned the air a few more times with her napkin, placed it on her lap and folded her hands upon it, smiling contentedly to herself. She was the picture of innocence when her husband returned, apologizing for taking so long, he asked her if she peeked, and she assured him that she had not.

At this point, he removed the blindfold, and she was surprised!! There were twelve dinner guests seated around the table to wish her a "Happy Birthday"!!!

Blonde Jokes

Question: If a blonde and a brunette fell off a building, who would hit the ground first?
Answer: The brunette - the blonde would have to stop for directions!

A blonde was walking down the road with a healthy looking pig under her arm as she passed A bus someone asked where did you get that?

The pig replied, "I won her in a raffle!"

A person went into the office kitchen one morning and found a new blonde girl painting the walls. She was wearing a new fur coat and a nice denim jacket. Thinking this was a little strange, he asked her why she was wearing them rather than old clothes or an overall. She showed him the instructions on the tin, "For best results, put on two coats".

A blonde asked someone what time it was, and they told her it was 4:45. The blonde, with a puzzled look on her face replied,

"You know, it's the weirdest thing, I have been asking that question all day, and each time I get a different answer."

Until I write again ...

Flea

Bubba

2011-02-23T15:19:00.002-06:00

Okay - I know this is obviously an old joke, but I just read it and it made me laugh out loud.

Bubba was bragging to his boss one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know them."

Tired of his boasting, his boss called his bluff, "OK, Bubba how about Tom Cruise?"

"Sure, yes, Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it. "

So Bubba and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door, and sure enough, Tom Cruise, shouts, "Bubba! Great to see you! You and your friend come right in and join me for lunch!"

Although impressed, Bubba's boss is still skeptical. After they leave Cruise's house, he tells Bubba that he thinks Bubba's knowing Cruise was just lucky.

"No, no, just name anyone else," Bubba says.

"President Clinton," his boss quickly retorts.

"Yes," Bubba says, "I know him, let's fly out to Washington."

And off they go. At the White House, Clinton spots Bubba on the tour and motions him and his boss over, saying, "Bubba, what a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up."

Well, the boss is very shaken by now, but still not totally convinced. After they leave the White house grounds, he expresses his doubts to Bubba, who again implores him to name anyone else.

"The Pope," his boss replies.

"Sure!" says Bubba. "My folks are from Poland, and I've known the Pope a long time."

So off they fly to Rome. Bubba and his boss are assembled with the masses in Vatican Square when Bubba says, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."

And he disappears into the crowd headed toward the Vatican. Sure enough, half an hour later Bubba emerges with the Pope on the balcony.

But by the time Bubba returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics. Working his way to his boss' side, Bubba asks him, "What happened?"

His boss looks up and says, "I was doing fine until you and the Pope came out on the balcony and the man next to me said, "Who's that on the balcony with Bubba?'

Until I write again ...

Flea

Math

2011-02-23T12:02:00.001-06:00

Oatmeal Head, discussing course options for his junior year, tells us last night at dinner that his algebra two teacher gave him no choice in math next year.

She told him to take pre-calc.

Math? My kids?

She was specific. Told him that he had algebra II down cold. And do the pre-calc teacher a favor and hand in his homework.

So what's OH's highest grade? A B. Is it in art? Oh nooooo. That's too obvious.

The boy's pulling a B in algebra. Sure I should be proud. If he was turning in homework he'd have a freakin' A. It's his only B.

*sigh*

Until I write again ...

Flea

A Month, That's How Long

2011-02-22T06:22:00.004-06:00

Close your eyes and imagine with me.

Wait. Open your eyes. I want you to imagine something specific. Sorry.

Alright. Ready? Good!

Imagine you have a nasty cold. You unexpectedly have to sneeze and there's no time to grab a tissue, so you sneeze into your hands. Pull your hands away.

They're full of thick, clear snot. It's the most disgusting thing you've seen all week.

Now imagine that handful of snot combined with fresh egg whites. Gross, isn't it? Whale snot, that's what you should be imagining.

So who forgot to tell me that that's what the inside of an aloe vera leaf is filled with? ALL OF YOU, THAT'S WHO.

Thanks a lot.

I made soap yesterday. It was fun right up to the point where I had to scoop the gel from the insides of the aloe leaves. All the instructions I read said it was best done with a spoon. Guess what? They LIED. It's best done with your thumbnail. Know why?

BECAUSE THE SPOON SLIPS OUT OF YOUR SLIMY, WHALE SNOT-FILLED HAND ABOUT HALFWAY THROUGH THE FIRST LEAF. THAT'S WHY.

No. I didn't get any pictures. Taking a photo with my wee, cute phone while handling whale snot was not an option. So sorry.

I'M NOT SORRY.

The soap? Yeah. It'll be ready to use in about a month. You heard me - a month. So since I can't actually USE the soap for four weeks, I'm stuck looking at it till it cures. See?

And these:

Any idea what else I can do with aloe vera leaves? Because I got a cup worth from a small part of the whale snot plant and need to use it for something else now. Maybe something with immediate results. Help!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Experimenting

2011-02-21T07:12:00.000-06:00

Guess what I'll be trying my hand at today?

And I'll be adding to it from this monstrosity, the one in the middle, the one that fell into the sink last week:

According to everything I've read, it'll be ready for use in about a month. I'll let you know how my experiment goes!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Rings On Her Fingers ...

2011-02-18T08:46:00.001-06:00

... and rings on her toes ...

A new ladies' Bible study began yesterday, so there were 25 preschoolers in my care. New cuties to talk to and play with, tamper with their sense of reality - I love my job.

I wore my Crocs and no socks, since the weather's been gorgeous, and had them off for a few minutes in the class room. A three year old girl stared at my feet and said, "No! No! No!"

What the heck?

Looking up at me with an angry scowl, "Not on your toes! Rings are for fingers!"

I've been scolded by a three year old. Tell me - why do people get their panties in a bunch about toe rings? I wear three and love them. Somebody, for the love of Pete, explain this to me!

I was once hesitant to wear the toe ring. I have friends who seem to think they're evil, but they won't explain why. I'm hoping one of you, my friends, will help me out. Please?

Not that I really care what people think. For my friends who freak out about it, I'm looking for rings for them. Loosen up, people. Unless there's some horrid symbolism that I'm not getting, hence I'm flaunting something offensive to people I care for. See my dilemma?

So I'm hoping someone out there can explain. Help!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, The Billionaire's Vinegar

2011-02-15T21:28:00.003-06:00

A friend loaned me her copy of The Billionaire's Vinegar saying she was too busy to read it. I sometimes pre-read for her (she has a vast library) and let her know whether or not a book's worth her time, particularly if it's not one of her favorite genres. Kinda like taste testers in medieval times. Only I get sleepy instead of being poisoned to death. Mostly because I know when to stop if a book reads like it's going to kill me.

The Billionaire's Vinegar, by Benjamin Wallace, is a true story, only recently somewhat resolved. Several decades ago, a German wine enthusiast found a cache of cellared wine in Paris which he believed originally belonged to Thomas Jefferson. Several of you have probably heard details of this story, since one of the bottles sold at auction to Malcolm Forbes's son back in the '80's, becoming the most expensive wine ever sold. It's a twisting, complex tale of truth and lies, money and power, obsessive collecting, people believing what they want to believe, and it winds its way from the early '70's to as recently as two years ago.

I love that the author keeps the story interesting (too many true stories aren't written well), that despite the wealth of information I had to absorb to understand the story line (I knew so little about wine and its world), Wallace kept me engaged, interested in knowing more about the subject so I could continue reading. The Billionaire's Vinegar almost reads like fiction stylistically, which makes it a hit for me.

In talking through the book with my Hunny (when I'm absorbed in a book, I talk through the plot with him), he remarked that it was a Blink book. Why yes! The characters in the book all had some sort of gut check about the German's story, about the tastings, about the murky elements surrounding the bottles' origins. Nearly everyone chose to ignore what they knew and believe what they wanted to be true. Blink, by the way, is a phenomenal book and I highly recommend it.

So yes, I recommend The Billionaire's Vinegar. If it were a movie, I'd say wait till it came out on video. In other words, pick up the paperback or head to your local library. But that's mostly because I prefer fiction to non. I you're a wine afficianado, you'll probably want the hardback edition.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Happy Valentine's Day!

2011-02-14T20:23:00.005-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I realize it's late in the day. Sorry. But I mean it! That it should be a happy one for you! Sugar-free chocolate squishy hugs to you all!

My Hunny was very sweet to me this year. This is what I found when I got up this morning:

And this was all I did for him (I sent it via text and email last night while I was working):

I suck at mushy holidays. I blame it on the ADD.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, Icy Sparks, on Wednesday! (With a Side of Know-It-All)

2011-02-09T13:03:00.004-06:00

A day is a small wait for a better review. I tell myself what I must.

Icy Sparks, the mid-'50's story of an orphan girl in a tiny town in Kentucky, is an Oprah pick, published way back in 1998. I'm not usually an Oprah pick reader, but a friend loaned me this one and I loved the underlying theme. This was Gwyn Hyman Rubio's first novel.

Icy's mom died a couple of weeks after she was born. Her daddy died when she was just four years old. Icy's grandparents raised the delicate blonde child with the yellow eyes. She's the apple of their eye. When Icy is ten, her world changes drastically.

Icy's Tourette Syndrome surfaced at ten. Her daddy probably had it, too. The tics and jerks and cursing bring no end of problems to Icy's existence. She's already living a fairly isolated existence, but the uncontrollable syndrome puts a wedge between her and nearly everyone she knows. Everyone but her grandparents, her best (adult) friend and the school principal.

I'm not a plot spoiler, so I won't take this much farther, other than to say that I like the way Mrs. Rubio writes about the children's asylum. It's refreshing, definitely not what my jaded reading experience has built in my mind concerning psychiatric hospitals in that era. Very well done.

Also well done is Icy's childhood development - I was drawn back to my own childhood quite effectively. Not that I grew up with a disorder, but I did come up in a town with one road, an hour from civilization, the gangly, red-headed, freckled girl in the midst of short, swarthy Cajun folk. Like Icy, I was a reader and a learner in a school full of kids who aspired to stay where they were, learn just enough. I hurt for the girl through most of this book, hurt for the girl I was.

One of the things I appreciate most about Icy Sparks is the child's sense of humor, as well as the people who matter in her life. Not only is the book fun, Icy is honest with herself, a child who's not at all perfect, but afraid to let others see her, covering up any way she can, including through the use of honest humor, as well as sarcasm. Heart wrenching and endearing.

The most disappointing aspect of Icy Sparks is the ending. There's an undercurrent throughout the book which I hoped to see developed or dropped. Neither really happened. It rose to a crescendo and exploded, with no real resolution. Well, I suppose something came of it, but it was very non-committal. I can't imagine myself writing a novel all the way through and giving it an appropriate ending (endings are tough), but this one, not counting the epilogue, was weak and unsatisfying.

Overall, I truly enjoyed Icy Sparks. Mrs. Rubio did a fine job. I'm certainly interested in picking up her latest book, The Woodsman's Daughter.

A word on the book I mentioned yesterday, The Know-It-All, One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World, by A.J. Jacobs - definitely worth your time to read. Mr. Jacobs set out to read the entire Encyclopaedia Brittanica, both micro and macro version, 32 volumes, in one year. This book is not only informative - my friend, Heather, now wants to buy a set and read them all, while I feel Mr. Jacobs gave me the Cliff notes, so I'm good - but acts as a memoir. Hilarious, poignant, straight-forward. I enjoyed this book, laughing out loud many, many times. In fact, my Hunny will probably read The Know-It-All next, since I read quite a bit of it aloud to him, drawing him into the story and information.

Mr. Jacobs weaves the overwhelming amount of information he's acquiring with his own story, keeping me hooked all the way through. There's not a section in this book where I ever wanted to put it down and read something else. If you're looking for something that's middle-weight, reads like fiction, but will bring you to the other side feeling a little more intelligent and informed, The Know-It-All may be just the thing.

Still snow-bound. Hoping to get out and about tomorrow. I think another six to eight inches fell today. My kids miss school. I miss the kids being gone and not trashing the house. *sigh* Time to get them all involved in cleaning their messes.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Beauty and the Beast

2011-02-08T12:38:00.001-06:00

See that title? I'm at work with 29 kids who are out of school again. Their parents are catching up on every last drop of work they can get in before the snow descends - in about four hours.

Lunch is over. The three through ten year olds are strewn all over the floor watching Disney's original Beauty and the Beast.

My favorite animated movie of all time.

It's a busy day. I love my job. Two days in a row with 15 to 20 kids with serious cabin fever ... I needed my favorite movie today.

Hopefully tomorrow, while I'm watching our six to twelve inches of snow fly, I'll review one of my latest reads, The Know-It-All. Awesome book. Hopefully you're all safe and dry in the meantime.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Home Grown Fun

2011-02-07T06:22:00.012-06:00

This last week was ... it was two weeks long, okay? The snowpocalypse happened. It was beautiful. And ominous. And eternal. And tons of fun.

Sixteen inches and five days after it all started, we were able to leave the house. We went to Target for coffee and creamer (HELLOOOOO), and Starbucks for real nourishment. We came home to find the teenagers in the middle of the cul-de-sac doing this:

Smack in the middle. Having a great time. See?

We went out again to bring Starbucks and groceries to homebound friends and came back to find the snow creature had changed. Morphed. For the better? You tell me:

Maybelline poses so well:

We had five teenagers for the weekend - life's not fun enough with just three, so we took in two more. They got busy after the birthday cake (one chose to spend his birthday with us), and decided to scare my Hunny. Here's the transformation of Goof Ball:

A work in progress:

He, um, wasn't happy about the Mamarazzi:

Complete!

Oatmeal Head was keeping dad busy with video games. The end result was not what they'd hoped (Hunny just stared and said it was disturbing), but the inspiration was there and Maybelline subjected herself to a transformation:

Kids these days. I hope your weekend was as much fun as mine!

Until I write again ...

Flea

The Beautiful White Stuff

2011-02-04T09:18:00.010-06:00

I've been jealous of my Midwest and New England friends for quite some time now. They get so much beautiful, fluffy snow. I've never really understood their aversion to the white stuff - or, at least, the prolonged stay of snow. I mean, look at it!

It's gorgeous! My friends in the deep south get me. They know that to see it fall is a dream.

We've been snowed in since Tuesday. I've enjoyed our time in the house. My mom came and stayed with us for three days and we had a nice visit. The kids enjoyed playing cards with and talking to grandma. I enjoyed kicking them off the TV so she could sleep in the bonus room. We all rested and relaxed. Aaaaahhh.

Lil' Bro stole my mom yesterday afternoon (four wheel drive, he has). One of the kids' friends arrived shortly after via his uncle. The kids are enjoying their six day weekend. Oh, here's day two of the snow:

Isn't it pretty?

Today is day four. Here's how my winter wonderland looked this morning:

And I now understand this diagram, as well as have a tiny bit of empathy for my northern friends:

Lifted from a friend's FaceCrack photos - no clue of it's origin - maybe she made it

The very best part about all of this? We're supposed to get another inch of snow in a few minutes. More forecast for Sunday. Then Monday. Then Tuesday. Probably Wednesday, too.

Oh! And the Hunny brought home a truckload of firewood on Monday night. See?

Here it is this morning, after just three days:

So. Who wants to teach me to play bridge?

Until I write again ...

Flea

Warm and Dry

2011-02-02T06:46:00.003-06:00

Yes, we had a snow day. Just like many of you did. Here in northeastern Oklahoma, we got at least 14 inches of snow. Pretty? Beautiful. Cold? Brr! But the best part of the day? Twofold.

After two hours in the snow, Goof Ball and his friend from next door, playing poker by the fire (and Lou):

And my Babies, Flash and Patches, enjoying the snow before it got really deep:

I hope you're all staying warm!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, The Mix

2011-02-01T06:36:00.003-06:00

Canadian Mama tagged me in a book meme *squee*. Y'all know I can't resist a meme. So I'm taking advantage of the opportunity to squeeze in a meme and a review!

Here are the rules:

Take a picture of the books you are reading currently and add to your post.
Describe the books and if you are enjoying them or not. Why?
For every book you are reading you have to tag one person.
Leave the person a comment letting them know you tagged them.

The first is a little tough, since since several of the books are on my Kindle. Here's a photo of what's currently in progress on my nightstand:

I'm thoroughly enjoying Sacks' Musicophilia. How the brain works fascinates me, and his tales about musical - oddities - and the brain are way cool. He opens with the story of a man who was struck by lightning and died (he was brought back via CPR). A month or so later he started hearing music in his head. Not ever having been musical, I guess it took the guy by surprise. Not too long after this, he had to teach himself composition and how to play piano, since the music became original scores and wouldn't go away. He was obsessed. It's an interesting read, one that so far I'd recommend.

The other, How Children Raise Parents, by Dan Allender, is one I've read before but am currently reading to the Hunny at night. I highly recommend this as a parenting book if your children are older than a year. It's especially valuable now that mine are teenagers. Not a rules book so much as a relationship, getting to know your child, letting parenting change you book. I love that Allender is upfront about his parenting mistakes, personality flaws, as much as anything else. It gives me hope.

I'm also reading To Be Told by Allender for my writing group. How the story of your life is written and your part in the composition.

This book, All Night Long, is written by Steve Knight, who I met Sunday. Hopefully he'll be attending our writing group. And OMG! I love the illustrations, by Melanie Florio! But the simple story is just darling, people. If I had tiny ones, I'd read it to them every night. Rather, I've have the Hunny read it every night. Steve signed this copy, and I think my Evil Sister needs it for little Calum. I love, at the end, that it says, "but daddy will miss you most of all" (while the little one's asleep all night long). *squee*

I'm not going to tag anyone. I know a couple of readers, but several of you comment that you don't have time to read. Trisha, feel free to do this meme, since I know you're an avid reader. I'd love to see what's in your stack. And Marcy! What are you reading right now? Okay, I guess I've tagged a couple of you. *whew*

Oh! The Kindle books! I downloaded a butt-load of free books. The ones I finished this weekend are The Mad King, by Edgar Rice Burroughs (hilarious, though I'm sure it wasn't intended to be), and The Island of Doctor Moreau, by H.G. Wells (dark, very good - why had I never read this one? Must suspend belief for much of it, now that we understand so much more about biology and the brain). And one I paid for on Kindle, Just Like Someone Without Mental Illness, Only More So, by Mark Vonnegut. Totally making me laugh. And tear up a little. So far so good.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Introductions

2011-01-31T10:51:00.004-06:00

I met a new group of ladies this weekend and made a new friend or two. Allow me to introduce you?

My online friend, Georgie, of Decisionally Challenged, AKA Mrs. Bundy (how's that for an introduction?), lives just up the road from me (maybe five miles?) and though we've been blog buddies for a couple of years, we'd never met. I've been threatening to plant irises in her front yard for a couple of seasons now. Here's me and Georgie on Friday night at the Full Moon Cafe, a dueling piano bar in downtown Tulsa:

Isn't she adorable? I wanted to scoop her up and take her home. But she wouldn't fit in my pocket OR my purse, so that was out.

And why were we finally getting together after two years of promises to get together and missing each other? The ladies at the RHOK, the Real Housewives of Oklahoma, were having a get together! Georgie is one of the principle bloggers for the RHOK. I think I'm a member (just barely, and only because Georgie invited me to be).

So, a couple of ladies whose company I enjoyed have their own blogs. Just want to give them a shout out here, as well as another Tulsa bloggers I've recently gotten to know.

First, the founder of the RHOK, Dawn, AKA Mrs. Albright, at Dawn's Diversions - I sat across from her and we talked thyroid. She's a real sweetie. Second was a cutie making the rounds of the table, she of The Mom Mayhem. I wish I remembered what we'd talked about, but by then I'd finished my one hard pear cider and short term memory was blinking *FULL*. Then I left because I've heard the dueling pianos and they're loud. And I was seated on the closest corner to one of the pianos. And I'm an introvert. So I was done socializing. So there.

My new friend, Jillian, is in the writer's group I started at my church last fall. She's creative and tidy and moves furniture on a regular basis. How do I know all this? Because I read her blog, The Greenest Version! Plus, we have things in common. Like moving here from central Florida! Only, she spent most of her life there until recently and I think she misses it some. I can't blame her this time of year. We're supposed to get ice and snow dumped on us tonight and tomorrow.

Now go read my new friends' blogs and leave me alone. I have some stockpiling to do before snowmaggedon arrives.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Wish You Were Here!

2011-01-29T20:04:00.002-06:00

This has been the most glorious weekend weather-wise! I'm going to step out on a limb and guess (hope) that many of you have had some milder weather as well, and have enjoyed being out of doors? Right this very second the garage door is open and a couple of teenagers are out there using dad's power tools. They check in every half hour or so to show me their intact fingers. It's all good.

That photo? Me. Yesterday. In a t-shirt. I love Tulsa in January. Monday night, though, the weather gurus are calling for ice, then snow. Maybe as much as ten inches! I LOVE TULSA IN JANUARY!!!!! *swoon*

So. Who's coming to visit? Come while the visiting is good! Whatever you do, don't visit in August. Come now!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Nearly All Better ...

2011-01-25T22:18:00.001-06:00

... thank you.

The stomach bug, which I initially thought might be all four Horsemen of the Apocalypse riding through my stomach, is gone. The cold is nearly gone. I'm taking the day off tomorrow. To sleep.

The End.

Until I write again ...

Flea

P.S. Thank you all for your words of help and encouragement!

Sick and Tired

2011-01-21T20:05:00.003-06:00

I am so tempted to crawl back through the last year's posts to see how often I was sick. But I figure I probably didn't post much when I was.

Well I'm sick now and I'm posting.

This is my second major cold/creeping into a sinus infection in a month. The NetiPot and Vicks on the feet at night, covered with socks, has handily defeated it both times. I despise the Neti. It's vile. It gags me. The whole sensation is just WRONG. But it works. Unplugs and takes away the pain of stopped up sinuses. Still hate it.

And the Vicks on the feet! Shocked, but it really works, too! One night was all it took! Thank goodness. It was that or a doctor's visit for antibiotics. I hate being on antibiotics more than I hate the Neti.

It's a good thing that the Neti and the Vicks worked (I did both last night), because I awoke to severe stomach pain at four AM. And tossed cookies for about 10 minutes at about seven. The most ... remarkable? ... thing about this is that I DON'T THROW UP. Ever. I can count on one hand the number of times in the last 20 years.

Slept all freakin' day. Major pain. Totally dehydrated. Joints ached.

And then my Hunny came home from work. He brought ginger ale. And chicken noodle soup. He cleaned the tub and ran a hot bath for me. He even brought fresh Vicks - some which hasn't expired in the last 8 years.

I love my Hunny.

And I'm going back to bed. I plan on waking well tomorrow. Doing laundry. Stuff. Y'know? Have a great weekend everyone!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Third Generation Geeks

2011-01-19T19:17:00.004-06:00

We're geeks. You all know that. But there are times when the reality of it hits me.

Like tonight, when we're having dinner and the boys are discussing binary clocks and some kind of 16 code. I think this is what they were talking about, but I'm not sure.

Looking across at Oatmeal Head, his t-shirt read, Friends Don't Let Friends Have Mullets. Yesterday's said Donut Whisperer. Goof Ball has one which reads, AD/HD and looks like an AC/DC shirt. My own favorite is my shirt with the outline of a drill and it says, Remain Calm. This Is Only a Drill. Just like this guy's shirt, but it looks better on me. Just sayin'.

What really hit home, though, was realizing that the kids are third generation geek. My mom, Grandma, was over one afternoon when Goof Ball wore his shirt which says 11Cheers for Binary! Grandma asked, "Shouldn't that read two cheers for binary?"

I love my geek family.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Tuesday Review, Wuthering Heights

2011-01-18T08:03:00.000-06:00

The things I do for you people. Sheesh. I'd rather not be reviewing today's book, but one of my kids' teen friends asked me to read and review Wuthering Heights. He says it's one of his favorite books. *swoon*

This agreement was a mistake on my part. I remember reading it in high school, as I'm sure many of you did, and loving the book unconditionally. I should know better than to ruin good memories with adult reality.

I read Gone With the Wind in high school and HATED it. Got to about page 900 and skipped to the last chapter to see how it ended (I never skip to the end. Ever). I hated Scarlett that much. I refuse to read it as an adult.

How on earth could I have had any fond emotions for Heathcliff or Cathy?!? I can't even tell you how tempting it was to skip to the end of the book a little more than half way through. But I had to know if there were any redeeming characters in this novel. At all. Because the first half? Makes today's dysfuntional families look like Family Circus.

The book only got better the last tenth of it. I say tenth because I read it on the Kindle and have no clue about pages. And by better I mean that a lot of people died. Good riddance. And that the two people we're supposed to view as innocents who were never given a chance finally get their chance. Crap. The whole thing is crap.

That's about all the review you're going to get. A friend on FaceCrack said she read a book wherein the entire Wuthering Heights group goes into therapy. Would never happen. They were all too self-centered. None of them were interested in having anything to do with the outside world. None of them, Heathcliff especially, would have agreed to counseling. I guess it reminds me way too much of a life I left. Exponentially magnified. By a gazillion.

Only read this, as an adult, if you are feeling particularly blue and want to feel better, and if reading about people far more miserable than you makes you feel better.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Listening

2011-01-14T09:54:00.004-06:00

Another week, a third Gospel finished. Luke is thorough. He seems to have talked at length with Mary, Jesus' mother, as he says several times that she treasured things in her heart, holding onto what was precious about everything that happened. He also seems to have spoken at length with Peter, as Peter's view is strong.

My friend, Heather, is also listening. She made the observation that the Gospels are a beautiful transition from the God of the Old Testament - a God many people associate with wrath and smiting - and the God of the New Testament. Reading through the OT seriously reveals a God who is tender but just. Smiting happens. But He keeps reaching out to His children, drawing them in, embracing them.

Jesus is obviously the God of the Old Testament, but His harsh words and actions are directed to the hypocrites, the legalists, the selfish leaders. The people I find myself connecting to. The tender, compassionate side of Christ is obvious, seen as he heals, sets people free, draws children to Himself, is patient with His thick-headed followers.

My Hunny struggled with the side of Jesus which was never so obvious to him as now, the harsh side. I reminded him that Acts is just around the corner, that everything changes soon. A third view of God and how He loves His people will be evident in a few short chapters. Hang in there.

Hunny told me, last night, that he caught a glimpse of that side of Jesus. So cool that Jesus embodies His Father, Himself and the Spirit all at once. The miracle and mystery of God being three and one at once.

At the end of Luke is a story of Jesus walking with His disciples - it's after His resurrection and they don't realize who He is - deep in conversation. The followers are appalled that this stranger doesn't know what's been happening in Jerusalem the last couple of weeks, that He's unaware of the political prisoner - a prophet, His brutal death, the entire city in an uproar. And Jesus patiently lays out, one by one, the prophecies in the Old Testament which foretold His birth, life, death and resurrection.

The followers, when they finally understand that this is Jesus, that He's alive and with them, are overcome. My heart warms and melts as I read these lines. He loves them. He didn't leave them. The lost child inside of me is tugged toward Him as He lets them know He's not gone forever.

Again, there's a strong crossover with the Narnian books. Somehow, though, the Narnian chronicles allow the Gospels to become even more alive and real to me now. I love that.

So. I guess I'll leave it at that. I'm thinking we'll be in Acts by this time next week. That should be challenging for me. There's a lot there I don't understand. I struggle with some of it.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Christmas Photos

2011-01-12T06:12:00.010-06:00

Okay, so I do things a little late. Slow. Backwards. Call me what you will. I was sick at Christmas. Better late than never, right? At least, that's what we procrastinators tell ourselves to feel better about life.

It was a week after New Year's. I still hadn't taken the Christmas photo. Looked like it wasn't going to happen for the whole family. And definitely not in dress clothes. I had to do SOMETHING.

So I texted all of my children, told them we were taking our Christmas photo, to get their butts downstairs. What you are about to witness is the result of hormones and humor. Let the record show that Maybelline was in no mood to have her picture taken.

Oh my. Not at all what I had in mind.

Hmm. Better. But not a genuine smile.

Alrighty then! No more comments about the smile. Got it.

No. We're NOT done yet. Maybe it's time to try something different.

Sombreros! That'll do the trick!

Yeeeaaaah. Again with that cheesy smile. Huh.

Oatmeal Head is pushing it. The Queen is not amused.

Definitely not liking the sombreros - or her brothers

Our only real smile - hooray!

Aaaaand she's done

Trying to convince a 17 year old girl that this is the right time to take family photos - next to impossible.

Until I write again ...

Flea

That's What I Get

2011-01-10T10:48:00.007-06:00

I have so much fun torturing my Hunny with clowns that I sometimes forget about payback. Yeah. It's everything they say it is.

See this cute little clown?

It was waiting on my Hunny's dresser, tucked away, staring at him as he stepped to his closet to get dressed, Friday. I thought it was amusing. He didn't say much about it.

This weekend we rearranged the living room. If it was up to me, we'd leave every piece of furniture in the house exactly where it is for the rest of our lives. That would work for me. But my brilliant Hunny likes to move things. And I'm usually happier once we get things shifted. This time it opened up our living room and made a huge difference. Me like.

In the moving, some things were unearthed which we haven't seen in awhile. Books, especially. We have hundreds of them downstairs. I bagged up a few dozen to give away, a few dozen more to take to the used bookstore. And we found a toy which had been tucked away.

The kids like using him to freak each other out. They put him on each other's beds, in the bathroom, in the fridge, wherever. I walked through the dining room yesterday (the stuff left to be put away is on the table) and found him like this:

See?

Totally creeped me out.

I was gone all day. Came home and he'd left the basket. Gone. Freaking me out just a little, I won't lie to you.

So. I can't say it was my Hunny. Might have been one of the kids. But the ante has been upped. Just sayin'.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Listening

2011-01-07T08:08:00.001-06:00

So I'm listening to the New Testament along with my church. Forty days to go through the entire thing. We're on day seven.

I'm listening to the dramatic telling and, I gotta tell ya, I'm not usually a good listener. By that I mean my attention drifts when I listen to a book, so I tend to read with my eyes. The tactile experience of the words and feel of the page, anticipating the turn of the page and how many are left ...

As an aside, the Kindle may frustrate me because of that. Dang. I hope not.

So we're nearly through the book of Mark, the second book of the New Testament, and I'm struck by the similarities. See, Mark is only about half the length of the first book, Matthew. Initially, Mark made me laugh when I realized why it's so short. He says, "and immediately" every other sentence.

It's tough to pay attention when in your head Jesus and His disciples are the Keystone Cops, racing in ridiculous fashion, wearing robes, no less.

Matthew was a tough book to listen to. Jesus seems harsh. He's tender and compassionate to the crowds, to the people who are hurting. People manage to surprise Him at times. It's wonderful. But there's one group that He harps on the entire book and just doesn't let go. Almost like He's goading them into some kind of action.

They take action alright. He pisses them off so badly that they have Him killed. Even at the end, He doesn't back down. And He has compassion on the ones who hurt.

It's been an interesting week, full of conflicting emotions about this Man I call Savior and Friend. He doesn't take hypocrisy lightly. I love Him. I'm unnerved by Him.

Feel free to catch up if you'd like to read along. Today brought us through the 11th chapter of Mark. I may do Friday updates of the week. We'll see.

Until I write again ...

Flea

My Favorite Things

2011-01-05T15:54:00.001-06:00

I love blogging from my phone. I'm home. The computer's in the next room. I'm too lazy to walk over there and type. Heh.

So for Christmas my Hunny upgraded my iPhone from a 3G to a 4. My 3G wasn't working properly, as in I couldn't talk on the phone without using speaker. But I insisted we didn't need to spend money on a new phone.

Two things: I was due an upgrade, and we gave the old phone to Goof Ball for Christmas to use as an iTouch. Rock on. And I love the 4!

My other big gift was a Kindle. My Hunny's boss bought an iPad right after getting the Kindle, so he got it half price. Very nice. However, I'm slow to warm up to technology. So help, bloggy friends! How do I best find the free books? What's your favorite game or feature on your Kindle? I need a jump start.

I wish I could say I had a favorite gift. The sock monkey jack-in-the-box from my bff? Maybe? Fork necklace from my Hunny? Possibly? Anytime toffee from my sis-in-law? Quite probably. Having the best Christmas ever? Definitely.

Sorry to revisit Christmas. I'm learning to use my new toys and thought I'd share. And ask for help. With the Kindle. Help!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Change Happens

2011-01-03T06:12:00.003-06:00

There's an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

A right time for birth and another for death,

A right time to plant and another to reap,

A right time to kill and another to heal,

A right time to destroy and another to construct,

A right time to cry and another to laugh,

A right time to lament and another to cheer,

A right time to make love and another to abstain,

A right time to embrace and another to part,

A right time to search and another to count your losses,

A right time to hold on and another to let go,

A right time to rip out and another to mend,

A right time to shut up and another to speak up,

A right time to love and another to hate,

A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

But in the end, does it really make a difference what anyone does? I've had a good look at what God has given us to do - busywork, mostly. True, God made everything beautiful in itself and in its time - but he's left us in the dark, so we can never know what God is up to, whether he's coming or going. I've decided that there's nothing better to do than go ahead and have a good time and get the most we can out of life. That's it - eat, drink, and make the most of your job. It's God's gift. I've also concluded that whatever God does, that's the way it's going to be, always. No addition, no subtraction. God's done it and that's it. That's so we'll quit asking questions and simply worship in holy fear.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-14, The Old Testament, The Message

I don't usually like sitting through a sermon with a new or different preacher. I like my preacher, thankyouverymuch. There are several stand-ins at our church that I have trouble listening to. The stand-in yesterday, though, was spot on. I'm stealing part of what he said. Paraphrased, mind you. With me added in.

It's a new year. Time for change, we always hope. This was a good year, but it could always be better, right? And for a lot of you, this last was a bad year. Change is something you anticipate with bated breath.

Personally, I hate change. Most change.

Here's a question the preacher asked: What was your biggest change this year?

I'm still chewing on the answer. It might be the loss of internet connection for awhile. Wouldn't that be sad. I can't think of another big change. I liked the last year. My grandma died, which was huge for all of us, but that was the end of 2009. Hmm.

Regardless, change is inevitable. Pastor said that every change is death. The old status quo is dead. We mourn what's dead or lost. Do we? Do we always mourn what we lose in change?

Every change is also rebirth. We celebrate change or birth.

Oo! Calum! Not really my change, but my sister had her first child this year. Holding him for a week, cuddling, baby-talking, loving my teeny nephew, all brought home that I ADORE babies. And that I'll be content to enjoy my sister's. And wait for grandchildren.

I think I'd been mourning the loss of babies for awhile (we'd discussed adoption off and on, but I was pretty much done). I was able to celebrate the new birth with my sister. And now I can celebrate my own change of life, my own step away from babies and small children and into another phase of life.

Celebrating - do we celebrate all changes? Seriously - celebrating the onset of menopause? The insanity, forgetfulness, weariness. I can celebrate the beginning of a new stage of life, though. I can celebrate stepping into being someone other than I've been, because that's how I feel, like someone else.

Chris Colvin, you did a nice job. Made me think. Made me a little sad. Especially thinking about how futile things sometimes seem. But I'm looking forward, now, to 2011. Thank you. Looking forward to reading through the New Testament this next month and a half with the church. Looking forward to being active, not passive. Looking forward to seeing Calum in the spring. Looking forward to that most of all, I think.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Happy Second Day of the New Year

2011-01-02T06:44:00.001-06:00

My blog friend, Daisy, did something wonderful on her blog. And I decided that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. No? So. In honor of my Composting friend, I'm posting the links to the first post of each month this last year. And in honor of my own erratic posting, I'm not posting this on the first, but on the second day of the new year. So there.

Ready? Set? Go!

December: Changes Suck is a social commentary on menopause. Okay, there's a really funny music video. Happy now? Go watch it and laugh, people.

November: The Demise of a Clown - I must say, I'm disappointed that no one has sent me a clown yet. Very sad. Fortunately for me, my friend, Heather, has been collecting clowns for blog amusement. Expect to see more clown torture in 2011.

October: Harry Eyeball - the photo really speaks for itself. I love this kid.

September: It's Why Women's Minds Are Cleaner Than Men's - Aaaaand I've changed it again. I give up. No grad school for me in the immediate future. At this rate I'd crash and burn before the first semester ended. *le sigh*

August: Shh! I'm Not Here - I fixed the "o" button. James Thurber would be pleased.

July: Intermission - one little post in July! P.S. I didn't die. P.P.S. I was a better parent for it. Not having internet, I mean, not the not dying part. Though that probably helped, too.

June: Funny Bone Monday (for and about old people) - I was winding down and wearing thin at this point.

May: Funny Bone Monday (the Chuck Norris Edition) - who doesn't love Chuck? In fact, Goof Ball got a book of Chuck facts for Christmas. I now love Norris slightly less. Shh! Don't tell him or I'll die by round house kick to the head. No one wants that. Well, I don't want that.

April: The Thyroid, I Don't Want It - I call this my whining stage. I should be going in for more labs this week. I'm exhausted again.

March: Another Funny Bone Monday! Dang. I almost miss those. Almost.

February: Stink! Yet ANOTHER Funny Bone Monday! I must say, I like the Ninja version. Ninja farts are funny stuff.

January: Kettle Contest - I swear I never want to see another cow again. And MPM? The kettle up and disappeared one day. I owe you something fun.

Well, y'all. Nothing earth shattering there. Have a great year, will ya?

Until I write again ...

Flea

A Flea Drop

2010-12-31T10:08:00.002-06:00

Y'all, real quick, head here to an article my Evil Sister, now mother of Calum, sent me. A tiny town in North Carolina is having a Flea Drop tonight instead of a ball drop! They're even holding a contest to name the Flea! Read! Enjoy! It's my 15 seconds of indirect fame, after all.

Until I write again ...

Flea

What Dreams Are Made Of

2010-12-30T08:30:00.001-06:00

Raise your hand if you're happily married. Raise it high.

Okay, I see your hand. You can put it down. You there - stop waving. And no, I don't want details. I know you're a newlywed. Keep the details to yourself.

I raised my hand, by the way. See this man? I'm happily married to him.

Now, and you don't have to raise your hand this time, are you married but don't want to be? Divorced? Single mom? I have a lot of friends who are in the above boats. It's a painful place for many of them. Not always painful, but often lonely, or just plain difficult. See this man? He's my Hunny. I was in the "don't want to be" boat for years, a long time ago now.

We're coming up on 19 years in a couple of weeks, so I'll have been happily married nearly as long as I was unhappily married. Isn't that an odd thing to say? But it's true.

Now, another question: how many of you might say you're happy, but you complain about your husband frequently? If you can't answer that question honestly, ask your best friend to answer it honestly. I'll bet she will.

Now, go back to the first statement.

I ask these questions because of a dream I had last night. Not a nightmare, but a very sad dream.

First, I watched the Lion King with the kids at work yesterday. It's been at least ten years since I'd seen it. I watched Mufasa die while his son, Simba, looked on. Second, my dad died more than five years ago. He was in poor health and excessive heat and stress were too much for him. We hadn't talked for years prior to his death. Third, my own husband isn't in great shape, but we're starting over next week with eating and exercise and I guess my mind is still chewing on that.

So in my dream, a strange man and his young daughter are in a crowd in the heat, walking, talking to lots of people. It's extremely hot. The man clutches his chest and dies in front of his eight year old daughter.

Next, I'm a teenager and it's my dad who's just died. I'm telling my mom that I'll never see him again, that I'm heartbroken. I'll go away to college and when I call or come home, he won't be there. He'll never be there again. I was sad, but not devastated.

Last, I was just me. My Hunny and I were traveling. It was my Hunny that died. I was crushed. I couldn't believe he was gone. He kept coming back to me - he'd hold my hand or touch my check - then he'd leave. It was killing me, even though I knew he was dead, that it wasn't real, his showing up.

I woke up at four a.m. to find he wasn't in bed. Hunny was sitting in the living room because he had heartburn. I went back to bed and cried for two hours before falling asleep snuggled up to him (he came back to bed).

What I realized after the dream was this: I'm very grateful for my sweet Hunny. I also love him more than I thought and would miss him more than I realized.

Another question: how many of you think you'd just move right on with life after a brief mourning period if your husband died? I thought that. I was protecting my heart, I think, from the thought of loss. But I was wrong. I can totally see being immobilized. I'm tough and all, but I love my Hunny. I've learned to love the man he's become over time. The man he's allowed God to make him. The man who loves me and our kids more than I can imagine.

Please don't take your husbands for granted. And don't cut them to ribbons with your words. Not to their faces or to others. It makes a big difference, the words you use, to them, and ultimately to you. Love them. It's worth your time and energy.

Until I write again ...

Flea

Hi!

2010-12-27T20:44:00.006-06:00

Christmas is over! So why isn't all the Christmas food gone yet?

This will be a busy week. Oh joy. So. I'll post a couple of photos and we'll call it a day, yes? Yes.

Doesn't take much to make Oatmeal Head happy - tatt sleeves and a funny hat

The best part of Christmas is the company and laughter

Goof Ball got what he wanted for Christmas - leather trench coat and a mustache

Until I write again ...

Flea

Have a Rockin' Merry Christmas!

2010-12-25T07:25:00.002-06:00

Merry Christmas, bloggy friends! Get off the computer and enjoy the day with your family! But not before you watch our family Christmas card.

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Merry Christmas, buddies!

Until I write again ...

Flea

Merry Cajun Christmas, Everyone!

2010-12-24T11:48:00.004-06:00

Merry Christmas Eve! As promised, here's a video of my rusty Cajun-accented reading of Cajun Night Before Christmas, by Trosclair. I love this book. Note to self: Don't video tape this myself again - get help. And slow down next time.

Here's a better version of the reading for your viewing pleasure.

Y'all have a very Merry Christmas!!!

Until I write again ...

Flea

P.S. My apologies for the watermark on the screen. Grr.

I'd Like Breathing For Four Hundred, Alec

2010-12-22T09:50:00.004-06:00

Whomever suggested using this:

With these:

Is a life saver. Two thirty in the morning, after trying to sleep in a chair, crawling back into a cold bed, hacking up a lung, blowing nose repeatedly, my Hunny grabbed the chest rub and told me to grab a pair of socks. He'd heard somewhere that coating the bottoms of the feet and wearing socks to bed would help.

It did. It really did. I slept.

Am I better today? Jury's still out on that one. But sleep ensured that I'm not worse. Yay!

Oh! If I manage to get my voice back by tomorrow night, I plan on video recording myself reading Cajun Night Before Christmas and posting it here for Christmas Eve. Between that and my husband's Polish roots, I sometimes sign my artwork Polish Coonass. It works for me.

Until I write again ...

Flea