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Showing posts from September, 2009

The Eyes Have It

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When I saw my brother DellRay's (second from right) bluer than blue eyes above his blue shirt, I had to ask what color MY eyes were. Not that blue, I was told, more gray, like my brother Greg. (Far right.) But our sister Rebecca (left) had DellRay blue eyes... or he had Rebecca blue eyes, since she's older (oh, whoops, don't hit me in the shoulder for that one, Becca!)
Well, I wanted a picture of all our eyes so I could see for myself. When the photographer said, "Open your eyes wide!" I did, with my smile still on. NO ONE TOLD ME IT WAS A FUNNY FACE PICTURE! Now I'm the only one who looks weird.

Dancing in the Grocery Store/ Your Hair Looks Good

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Jackie Brown said my hair looked so good, I should take a picture of it, so I did.
Hm. I think the wooden bear looks good, and the sunflowers look good, but my hair? (Maybe she meant the back!)
I was in the grocery store with my photogenic hair when I saw a young couple dancing with the old fashioned twirl-the-girl move in the aisle between the specialty treats and the soda pop. I smiled at them as I made my way to the check out stand. When I got to the parking lot, there they were, walking toward a car.
"Hey!" I said.
They turned to look at me.
"You guys should celebrate your 50th anniversary dancing in this store!"
"We're not married," the guy said, holding tightly to the girl's hand.
"Then you should make a pact to meet here in 50 years and dance in the aisle again," I called.
"Yeah, we should," he said.
"Have a good night," I called, and opened my car door.
I predict that was either a deal maker or deal breaker. What do yo…

Upside-down pizza, candy apples, and devil's farts

Food is big. There's nothing worse than spooning fresh peach cobbler onto your plate and opening the fridge to find... no whipped cream.
My solution is to hide food. I blame my brother, who sat grinning his grandpa grin (he has three grandchildren) at the re-telling of his bottle thefts from my crib. That's where it all started. He'd sneak the empties back in between the bars until the day Mom found him hiding in the toy box, guzzling his latest contraband milk.
That may explain why I hide food, but why am I such a crummy cook? Why didn't my extended family eat all the bright red candy apples I took to the reunion? I was disappointed to re-load half of my personal offerings of love and goodwill back in the car. I mean, I don't want to eat them! Half of them had the misfortune of being dipped in syrup that wasn't cooked quite to the hard ball stage... in other words, the candy coating is very sticky, like caramel, only with stronger pulling power. I realized the e…

Who Set Me Up?

Okay, I've had some freaky things happen in my life, and another one just burst out of the computer a minute ago. You see, I've never set up a TWITTER account because it seems, well, kind of annoying to have updates for every little thing someone does throughout their life.
Well, I've gotten enough followers of my non-existent Twitter account that I decided to bite the beak and give it a try. I mean, you don't really know unless you try it, right?
But guess what? When I typed my information, the Blue Twitter Bird told me that my email address was already taken.
Say what?
Well, I have been known to put library books in the fridge and just yesterday I lost my celery in the cupboard and was SO GLAD when Michael found it that I was willing to concede there was a remote possibility I'd set up an account without paying attention.
So I tried to log in, but since I had no memory of creating the account, I didn't know the password. So I clicked on "Forgot Password,&quo…

I Just Wanted to See the Play!

I got to the high school play, "A Curious Savage," an hour early because my high-schooler son was in the light booth and needed time to set up. While waiting in the lobby, I got busy writing. So when there were signs of activity around the ticket booth, I gave my 10-year-old some money and told him to go get us tickets so we could go in.
When the auditorium doors opened, Michael came to get me and I picked up my papers and followed him toward the seats he'd picked out. As we were going through the doors, the director saw me, gave a mischievous grin, and called loud enough for Egyptians to hear, "Hey, you should tell your son that you just want a child and an adult ticket."
"Why?" I asked, wondering if Michael had gotten two child's seats or something.
"He said your age," the director snorted, trying to hold back the laughter.
"Oh, that's okay, I don't really care," I said with a smile.
Michael took a few steps beside me in s…

I feel pretty...

I was riding my funky 3-wheeled recumbent off the front apron of WalMart when I saw the lady sashay out of the store. She flipped blonde hair over one shoulder and strode out into the sunshine with confidence. That was admirable, since she wore a dress made from the dull side of a roll of aluminum foil. No kidding. It was silver. Her black stockings had so many designs running rampant that they made her legs look diseased. Startling red high heels that didn't match a thing clicked across the pavement.
I sat there under my tan shade hat with the big yellow flower pinned to one side, a sunflower sari draped over one shoulder, light-up flips pressed to my bike pedals and a pair of bright yellow sunglasses over my eyes, thinking, "It's amazing what some people will wear in public..."

A truck driver out for blood!

I had to have a minor medical procedure last week which included the poking of a needle into one of my veins. I have good blood-taking veins. They're not shy.
So I'm there in the room and in comes this big guy of about 50 with heavy black overhanging brows and a buzz hair cut. He's built like King Kong, and he's wearing scrubs.
Whoa.
"Hi," he said. "My name's Rusty and I'm a student and I'm going to take your blood."
"So," I said as he picked up my arm and encircled it with his huge hand. "What did you do before you decided to become a nurse?"
"Truck driver," he growled.
I would have guessed barroom bouncer.
So he's examining my arm and the back of my hand like he's reading a long-haul road map to Philly. Then a happy nurse of about 60 comes bobbing in the room, far too cheerful for bloodletting. But she talks Rusty through the procedure. When he holds the needle to my skin, she says, "Don't be afr…

Rachel Nunes' "Saving Madeline" - (Hold on to your heart)

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REVIEW:
Rachel Nunes does not disappoint in her delivery of a tale that touches on what is sadly becoming an all-too-prevalent modern day epidemic.
The story opens with a sinister kidnapping of a 4-year-old girl that turns out to be a desperate rescue effort by the girl’s non-custodial father. He feels she is in danger from her mother’s carefully concealed drug use, but the officers who catch up to him don’t agree.
The reluctant defense attorney is assigned to the case, which she doesn’t believe in, until she spends more time getting to know the defendant. Then her heart is torn, and she uses every resource at her disposal in an effort to get at the truth.
Nunes style is engaging, and she skillfully weaves different threads into her tale. Some surprises await you along the trail of this modern-day cautionary fiction story that addresses an issue which Nunes researched from true events.
You won’t leave it without feeling a sense of outrage at the injustices done to innocents, and a desire t…