Sliding Down Backward!

The family reunion notice said to "Bring a swim suit and towel." Being the obedient person I am, I stuffed my blue-swirly patterned swim suit (Michael calls it a camouflage suit because it looks like water) into my bag, then asked said 10-year-old to get me a towel. He brought me a towel that doesn't even completely cover my hips and carried a giant, humongous beach towel for his own.
There weren't many people when we got there, so Michael and I went in swimming. THEN he challenged me to go down the slide. It took a couple of heart-hammering moments, but I agreed. He demonstrated for me, then said, "You can hold your nose if you want to, but I don't."
Well, if he didn't, then why should I?
Because my nose turns up at the end, that's why!
I slid down the slide and got water up my nose. So I said I was done for now, which was fine because some of his cousins had arrived to swim with him.
I wasn't planning to go back in the pool until evil niece Jacquelyn squirted me with cold water. I had to chase her down. Once I was re-wet, all the little kiddles challenged me to slide down the slide backwards. They were doing it, so how hard could it be? I climbed up and they all chanted "Shirley, Shirley, Shirley!" Talk about peer pressure, and yes, children are my peers.
It was scary to not see where you were going and have your turned up nose free for filling with chlorinated water.
But the kids did it.
So I did it.
AND IT WAS FUN!
I only found out after that all the adults sitting around the tables talking had paused long enough to join in the Shirley chant.
Apparently they were my peers, too.

Brave New Book!

Valor Publishing is pleased to announce that pre-orders for Utah State Attorney General Mark Shurtleff’s novel, “Am I Not A Man: The Dred Scott Story” are now available on the Valor website. By placing your order between now and Labor Day, you will receive a discount price and your copy will be signed and numbered by Mark Shurtleff.
This book is truly incredible. You are entertained and edified at the same time. Mark’s writing is incredible and he has managed to weave his research in with his storytelling to create a masterpiece.
This novel is a story you won't want to miss.
Utah State Attorney General Mark Shurtleff’s ground-breaking new novel, “Am I Not A Man: The Dred Scott Story” is now available for preorder at a reduced price.
An illiterate slave, Dred Scott trusted in an all-white, slave-owning jury to declare him free. But after briefly experiencing the glory of freedom and manhood, a new state Supreme Court ordered the cold steel of the shackles to be closed again around his wrists and ankles. Falling to his knees, Dred cried, "Ain't I a man?" Dred answered his own question by rising and taking his fight to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Dred ultimately lost his epic battle when the Chief Justice declared that a black man was so inferior that he had "no rights a white man was bound to respect."
Dred died not knowing that his undying courage led directly to the election of President Abraham Lincoln and the emancipation proclamation.
Dred Scott's inspiring and compelling true story of adventure, courage, love, hatred, and friendship parallels the history of this nation from the long night of slavery to the narrow crack in the door that would ultimately lead to freedom and equality for all men.
You can order your sale-priced, signed and numbered limited edition copy of “Am I Not a Man” by visiting http://www.valorpublishinggroup.com before Labor Day. There are only 5,000 copies of this special edition being printed and once they’re gone, they’re gone … and the sale price ends on Labor Day. You can request that Mark personalize your inscription, and your book will be mailed to you before the stores even get their copies. For more information, visit http://www.valorpublishinggroup.com

Singing to Youtube

Three nights ago, it was just Bob, Michael, and me at home. We watched "27 Dresses" which has a memorable barroom rendition of "Benny and the Jets" by Elton John. So we looked it up on the Internet, on Youtube, a version with words, and I started singing along. (If you've never looked them up, I'll tell ya, there are some weird words.) Then Bob started singing along (okay, anyone who knows Bob can pick themselves up off the floor now) then Michael started singing along, even though he didn't know what a lot of the words meant.
As I sat there blubbering "B-B-B-Benny and the Jetssssss" I had the vision of an old-timey family gathered around the piano in song. Well, we had the gathering part right, but the piano was replaced by a computer. Hey, it's all about togetherness.

Flip Flop Blowout

A word of advice: don't fall in love with your flips. They can't live forever. Even if they're really cool, light-up-when-you-walk size 11's. (Yeah, a real find!) I've had them for years, at least 4, which is 199 in flip flop years. I even retired them last winter, hoping they would rejuvenate and serve me for another summer. They are SO COOL, flashing orange lights around and in between my toes when I walk!
But when I put them on the other day, they did their stoic best to carry me to the library and back to my car. But, alas, in the middle of crossing Main Street, one of my flips gave up the ghost, leaving me stumbling across the asphalt. In proper solemnity of the occasion, the approaching truck driver did not even smile as I double stepped backward to pick up my mortally wounded flip flop, it's connecting step pulled completely free of the sole. (Or should I say "soul?") I hobbled to my car, and the truck zoomed by in a 2-shift salute to the demise of my cherished flip.
I know from experience on my son's camo flip that gluing, taping, and cajoling do not work in bringing a flip back to life. So I'll have to send my light-up flips off to a better place, and hopefully, if I live right, I can be with them again some day.

How a "Homeless Lady" sold books

Okay, so we had a vacation to Whidbey Island, Washington, where our 15-year-old had a booksigning. The local rag hadn't included the press release for community events that I sent out, so for publicity I bought a poster paper and wrote "Stop! Meet 15-year-old author here! Now!" I sat on a chair by the curb and held my sign. After two hours, I put my prop away and went inside to see what was happening. A lady in there said she's seen me and thought I was a homeless person willing to work for food. (She didn't have her glasses on.) Then her daughter read the sign and said, "Mom! It's an author! Turn in, turn in!"
So the lady bought a book for her daughter, and we all lived happily ever after.

Off to where there's no Internet

For awhile, I'll be Internetless, so you'll have to check back for more kicks and giggles later in July!
THANK YOU for stopping by anyway! I'll come up with something worthwhile when I return... oh yeah, you KNOW I will!

Creepazoid!

Augh! I hit a bird with my car! Bob said it was a meadowlark. I get creeped out just rolling my car over already dead animals, but to actually hit and kill one... augh! It was like all my nerve endings in my whole body were on edge. I had to grip the steering wheel and blink a whole bunch of times so I wouldn't cry. It took 21 miles before I felt even close to normal again.
Birdies, fly higher!