This Actually Happened

You know how, when you come back from vacation, you say to yourself, "Self: Now vacation is over. You have got to get your crazing eating under control. You probably put on a few pounds, but don't panic. You just need to get right back into your regular just-a-notch-under-crazy eating habits and things will be better." You feel kind of bloated and guilty, but you decide not to dwell on that negativity and just start over, right? Well, imagine leaving your vacation with this kind of guilt and then this actually happens ....

Scene: We're leaving Florida, boarding the jet for home. As I enter the plane, the steward reads my sweatshirt and says to me, "Ahh, you've been to Siesta Key." 

By the way, I rarely ever wear words. I just don't. But I left my fashion comfort zone and bought a hot pink hoodie that clearly says, "Siesta Key."

So the steward remarks about my shirt and asks a typical question like, "Did you have a good time?" or some kind of small talk chatter. I smile, say yes, and keep moving. 

Jorge is right behind me wearing a visor which says, "Siesta Key." 

The steward then remarks to Jorge, "So you went to Siesta Key. She went to Fiesta Key, and you went to Siesta Key. Well, well!" I realize that the steward has mis-read my shirt. He is not joking; he thinks we went to two separate places. After all, he has no idea we're a couple. 

So he made a mistake, but who holds up a line going into the death tube in the sky to make that kind of trivial correction? (Also by the way, regarding my fear of flying, the pilot was playing Words With Friends as we entered, not exactly a pilot-y activity, if you ask me. He should have been reading up on physics or something. And did I mention we saw the Denzel movie "Flight" while we were in FL? Eek.)

As I said, though, I was about to let the error pass, when I hear the steward say, "So she ate and you slept, huh?" Jorge laughs nervously and says, "Yeah." And the steward chuckles and says, "Well, that's what it looks like: she ate and you slept!" 

?????????????? Excuse me? (They don't make enough incredulous question marks for me to type here.)

So I look over my shoulder and protest, "HEY." 

And you should have seen those two bucks in the glare of my white hot stare. I think the steward realized what he had done, and Jorge just hurried me on down the aisle to avoid being thrown off the plane if I should  stop everything and file a formal complaint about the steward calling me fat.

Once we sit down, I say, "What was THAT??" Mocking the steward I go on, '"You look like you slept, but she looks like she ate for the duration of the vacation." "I mean, what was THAT?"

And then like a good toady, Jorge says to me, "You know who he sounds like?" 

"No, I don't."

"Like that donkey in Shrek!" 

Jorge is a comical genius and diplomat. I let the steward live and keep his job knowing that when I lumber around talking with all that food hanging out of my mouth like sloppy water grass out of a hippo's mouth, at least I don't sound like a cartoon donkey. 

So we land and decide to eat at Cracker Barrel. Just as I finish my meal, our server stops at our table and remarks: "Wow. You're done already?! Gee, you didn't have to hurry through it like that. Wow. No need to chow down. Take your time and enjoy your food!" etc., etc.

???????????????????????  Are you SERIOUS??

I can't even tell you what else he said because I was in the Land of Disbelief - that a server would say that to a  customer--a female--ME!

And he didn't even sound like a donkey. 

So here I am, back in the land of the Non-Beach-Dwelling Corn-Fed People, two days before Thanksgiving.

I think I'll have TWO pieces of pie Thursday, in honor of my two biggest cheerleaders. Or maybe think of them ever so fondly when I see turkeys roasting in ovens. 

And so here is another post filed under, "I Know You Think I Make This Stuff Up." But I don't. This actually happened ...

What Are Your Christmas Dreams Made Of?

When I was a little girl, my favorite Christmas present was a big old baby stroller, quilted blue, a flat canopy trimmed with white fuzzy pom-poms, similar to the one in this picture. Beautiful! But the best part of the stroller was that—oh, sit down for this--was that it was a DOUBLE stroller, room for one baby facing forward, the other backward. A feature like that that could make a little pretend mommy dizzy with strolling dreams!

That memory makes me smile because I realize that my deeper desire, beyond taking two baby dolls in and out of their seats hundreds of times, was to nurture a baby. Something about those plastic dolls of my childhood filled my heart with joy, foreshadowing my life to come, when I would be filled with indescribable happiness while holding my own children, and now the twins living in my home. (Oh, the irony! TWO!)

I think that’s often how we approach Christmas, whether we look forward to family meals, giving gifts, children’s excitement, church, music, movies, etc. Something about those activities fills our hearts with joy—and maybe--they foreshadow an even fuller life and celebration to come.

So what are you looking forward to most this year? If you look deeper into that desire, what hope might be embedded in your Christmas wishes and expectations?

Maybe you haven’t thought to articulate your deepest desires because they’re so disguised (wrapped?) in the cultural trappings of Christmas, which we’ve grown to love (or not love, depending on our disappointments). But is it possible that the deepest desire of your heart might include love and peace within your family? Reconciliation with someone? A deep joy? Personal freedom from things that are destroying you? Peace? Forgiveness? Rest? God’s presence? Hope?

If those are the gifts you truly desire for Christmas, they are available to all of us, but you can’t overlook the source--remember the poignancy and significance in the Christmas story when the innkeeper had no room for the babe.

Receive the good tidings of great joy for all people: “The Savior has come; let there be peace on Earth and good will toward men from God!” Let the significance of that sink in; let it shine in dark places and replace despair with hope.

No matter how far-fetched or impossible your hopes and desires might seem, in your heart and in your life, “prepare Him room,” because “Joy to the world—the Lord is come!” Anything is possible!

©
Linda Crow 2011

2nd Cup Remix, Life Remix (Resolutions)

Re: your comments on what I'm calling my "2nd Cup of Coffee Remix" post (shot in the arm, resurrection post) was heartwarming and overwhelming. Thank you for all of the niceness you bestowed upon me. Humbled!

As I write this, it is January the twoth, and so far, so good on a couple of resolutions.

First of all, I'm on my 2nd day of reading the Bible in a year. I've accomplished this once before, but not in 2010, so I thought I'd give it a go. Today, in the OT, Eve got into trouble, and in the NT, Herod killed a bunch of innocent babies. Wow, with summaries like that, you don't even need to crack your Bible if you're considering this plan.

(Why did I say "innocent babies" above? Are there evil babies? No. Not even the sibling in this, one of my favorite pics of all time, is evil. She's just having an Evil-Genius Power Trip moment. So scratch that redundant adjective.)

Fellow Losties will understand when I say I envisioned the Smoke Monster starring in the role of Satan in both stories. Anyway, I hope to keep this "reading the Bible" performance up because, as you know, being a Christian is all about performance. JUST KIDDING. I'm just proud of myself for doing something two days in a row besides breathing and eating.

Secondly, I'm already on my 2nd day of being a vegetarian. I know; My iron will is amazing. I warned you this was coming, but I only decided a few days ago to start Jan. 1. Honestly, I don't know if this will last. Today the family ate ziti that I had prepared, but I opted for a mix of rice, black beans, pepper jack cheese, a dash of hot sauce and one and a half eggs stirred up in a little skillet. I LOVED it. We'll see what happens when a pepperoni pizza comes waltzing by me on some lonely evening. I may succumb to temptation.

Thirdly, I'm on an exercising roll. My daughter's wedding is June 18, and as I have reminded myself and many others: There's a frumpy Mother-of-the-Bride dress out there waiting for me. My fear is that the only non-frumpy ones will be sleeveless (EEEEK). So I'm on a mission to tone up the wings.

So those are a few of my resolutions. Not revolutionary resolutions, I admit, but still, good ones.

I know, I know. You don't make resolutions. Hardly anyone does anymore. I don't think I did for the last couple of years. Some desire to do so kicked up in me over the last few days, and I just decided to go for it. We'll see what happens ... now that I've said them out loud, GULP, I feel a little more accountable!

If you have new beginnings, let me know!

Flashback Friday: Decorating for Christmas

This week Lid asks, "When you were growing up, when did your family put up and decorate the Christmas tree? Was it real or artificial? Who usually decorated it? Were there special decorations? What was on the top? White lights or colored, blinking or steady? How much did your family decorate for the holiday other than the tree (wreaths, dishes, snowglobes, miniature villages, etc.)? Did y'all do outdoor lights? White or colored, blinking or not? Are there special memories associated with decorating for Christmas?"

Here I am, Christmas, 1964, at my little piano which my grandmother gave me. You can see the silver tree in the background; we had that tree for most of my growing up years. My favorite part of Christmas decorating was the wheel of color that turned and shone onto the reflective tree. I would lie on the floor, listen to the whir of the wheel and watch the colors fall over the tree, onto the ceiling and down the wall, over and over. It was magical. Of course, back in those days, we didn't have sensory overload like we do now. I can't imagine anyone but maybe a cat doing that today. Even toddlers are bored by holograms and time travel.



Here I am with my youngest of three brothers, Donnie. He is 56 now. I love him dearly. I don't have many memories of actually decorating except feeling like I couldn't really do it to please my mom. She wasn't as into "hominess" as "prettiness." I get that now. She had to look at it for a month.

My daughter gave me grief this year because I didn't use any of my kids' homemade ornaments, and everything is color-coordinated. Actually, I couldn't FIND their ornaments even if I had desperately wanted to use only those.
And here I am at 13, with our sophisticated fake green tree. I thought it was the bomb-diggity. I loved that orchid sweater, too, my favorite color. I can tell by the hair that I was in 7th grade here, and madly in love with a red-headed 8th grade boy at my school. He lives in Philadelphia now.

Check out that gold crushed-velvet chair. Note the lack of lights. I'm not sure we had them on when I was young. I do remember some large ones outside around our picture window. That was about the extent of our decorating; Mom did not go overboard in baking or decorating for holidays. But I loved my Christmases and have very fond memories of footed pajamas, my bothers and their wives coming "home," and Elvis's Blue Christmas on our large console stereo, not my choice of music, but that's what I remember. I wonder how my kids will answer this question someday? ("She wasn't 'into' our ornaments ....")

My Boyfriend's Back

My boyfriend's back.

Oh yes he is, and I'm so happy.

Let me tell you about him:

He's humble, even self-deprecating, yet ambitious, with a professional goal in the medical field, even though the odds seem stacked against him.

He has successfully emancipated himself from both his mother and his boring job and often expresses how much he cherishes his independence. He's a maverick.

He can stand up for himself with high-powered CEO types and rub elbows right along with the common folk in factories.

He can sing, even writes his own tunes when the moment is right, so in addition to being focused professionally, he has a spontaneous, artsy side, as well.

His clothing choices reflect his unique personality; he is no slave to fashion trends. His hair is neat and very stylized. I think Clinton Kelly would approve.

He's not very tall, but that doesn't matter to me. I do care about good teeth, and so does he. I'm talking perfect dental hygiene.

He is the friend of those who are marginalized and misunderstood.

And he's kind to animals. {Dreamy sigh.}

Some people might not appreciate my attraction to his soft-spokeness, his gentile mannerisms, but I've had my fill of the Yukon Corneliuses of this world--so, in the words of The Angels (1963) It's Christmastime and, "Hey la, Hey la, My Boyfriend's Back."

Oh Hermey. I've missed you so.

A Dentist!! sound clip Christmas sound clips

It'll Nearly Be Like a Picture Print By Currier and Ives ... or Not

Just be glad I'm not cooking your holiday meals. Today it's a turkey for the Crow side of the family. Mr. Tom Turkey is in the oven, and I bleached the kitchen and myself up to my elbows. "Linda, what is that wonderful holiday aroma wafting from your kitchen?" "Bleached Turkey Sink."

hApPy ThAnKsGiViNg ~ It's a Barbie Parade!

Circa 1970, 8 yrs old ~ Mom's canister vacuum = Macy's Thanksgiving Day float; big balloon = helium parade balloon; Barbies with upraised arms = celebrities waving to crowd; X-treme bangs on my forehead = awesomeness.

Memorial Day

Facebook update today:


In Germany, my dad was eating outside when he noticed at a distance a group of German women waiting to eat their food scraps. Through tears he told me, "They were just women, not soldiers, helpless victims, starving." Even at 89, he has vivid, somber memories of WWII. Hearbreaking. Thank you, Dad, for serving so that my kids and I can live the way we do, in freedom. God bless all innocent victims of war, too.

Weekend Recap

I hope you had a great weekend; I sure did. Saturday, I went with my lovely mom to her church for a Mother's Day luncheon.

At 84, she was the oldest mother there, so they asked her to say the blessing before we ate. I was so appreciative to spend another Mother's Day with her. Yes, she is 84, but doesn't look it, I know.

I'm a convert to her skin care regimen now because I am a believer. However, the first and foremost reason her skin looks so good is that she never sees the light of day for more than 20 seconds or so. My dad has been dropping her off and picking her up at doors since about 1950. I cannot abide the "no sun" rule, even though I know the consequences. Other than that, I'm adopting her guidelines. Let's hope the genes are strong, that's all I'm saying.

Saturday night, we sent our baby off to her first junior/senior prom. She wore a dress that Katie wore a few years back in the Delaware County Junior Miss Pageant, and I think she looked great. They both happen to be petite girls, so it fit perfectly. She even had shoes to go with it.

In fact, the only items on which I spent money were a clutch, some makeup and the prom pictures. Am I cheap for mentioning that? Perhaps. But she went with a friend and was not emotionally invested in the event at all, just went as a fun thing to do. So I was glad not to have spent a ton of money on the dance. Maybe this will not blow you away like it did me, depending on where you live and what the prom custom is, I suppose, but I was floored to learn that one girl spent $500 on her dress. That's actually more than I paid for my wedding dress.

The best part for me was watching Katie do Kristin's hair and makeup. I don't have a sister, so witnessing this tender, fun-loving moment meant the world to me. It was an early Mother's Day present. Katie has been acting as a 3rd party mediator lately, and I appreciate her so much!

You'll notice one picture features my toilet. I'm sorry about that, but Katie snapped a pic of Kristin texting in the middle of preparations, and I loved that picture because it so represents her and kids nowadays that I had to include it. Sorry for the toilet and the wall mirror that makes it appear as though I have double toilets in one bathroom.

After that, Jorge and I drove to the nearby town where Katie (graduate) and Jordan attend college because Jordan's girlfriend graduated Saturday. We are SO happy that she is in his life; I could not have chosen a girl any better for him. And thrill upon thrill, we met her parents, brother and grandparents. They were completely lovely people and made us feel so welcome. We were even treated to dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. In short, it was a wonderful evening, a real blessing in so many ways.

By the way, Jordan's girlfriend's mom confessed that she occasionally reads this blog. (GULP!) You all know I get a little wacky on here sometimes, and who knows what she expected when we would eventually meet, but I think she bestowed grace upon me for Jordan's and her daughter's sake!

After dinner, Jordan took us to see his new apartment in an old house on campus where he will be living for the summer. (Gulp again.) Very old, slightly scary at night for me, but he seems happy enough. Their fish is still alive, by the way, but we've had a cold spell and his house has no heat, so the fish is doing that playing possum thing where you'd swear it is dead but it's not. I know you appreciate the grandfish update.

By the way, what a relief to know that my grandfish's other set of grandparents is fabulous.

Sunday morning, we went to church, then I chose where we had lunch, which was Pizza King, a place I've mentioned once or a hundred times on here. It's an Indiana thing, and if you're born and bred here, you love it like nothing else. The piece de resistance is called the "Royal Feast," and that's what I ordered, as you will see in the pic. Also, you will see that when you sit in a booth, you pick up an old fashioned phone to place your order. And then when the pizza arrives, you have to decide which is better, the edge pieces or the center, and you can never decide, so you just keep eating.

After that, Jorge took me to see the movie "Babies," which I highly recommend if A) You like babies B) You're interested in learning about other cultures. Four babies are featured from Tokyo, Mongolia, Namibia and San Francisco. I happen to be partial to the story of the Mongolian baby because the culture is so near the Kazakh culture, which is of Mongolian descent.

The only thing is, the movie had not yet come to our town, so we had to drive to Indy to see it, about 60 miles. Then when we got there, it was sold out, so we bought tickets for the next show and shopped in a mall and got a skinny vanilla latte until it was time for the show.

I received lovely gifts from the kids, but the best part was seeing each of them and putting my hands on/arms around them. Oh, how I love those three people and their father.

I am a blessed woman--a blessed daughter, wife and mom. I don't deserve my life. I am so thankful!

Easter Report

Leave it to me to come up with neither a spiritually significant nor an emotionally evocative post title. Oh well.

A report is a report is a report, right?

Well, let me report this: as I'm typing this post, I'm eating my 2nd piece of Key Lime Pie. And the crumbs are falling into the keyboard, but I don't care.



I feel as though I am eating Florida sunshine. Because the last time we were there, on Anna Maria Island, we bought a Key Lime Pie just about every single day and ate it. Did you catch that? Practically a pie a day.

I think it's called "Key Lime" because it holds the key to my happiness.

Where was I? Oh, the report.

Here is a thumbnail of any holiday at the Crow house when the kids are all home: The driveway looks like a car lot. A football and Frisbee lie on the breakfast bar and kitchen table. Mountains of laundry appear. Food disappears. Silliness at every turn. I love it.

Saturday evening, I cooked. Sunday morning, I cooked. Then we went to church. GREAT service.

Here are my girls and I just before lunch. I don't know if you can tell or not, but the younger one is so hungry here that she's about to gnaw on her sister's arm. She always was the biter in the family.



Then we ate.



Then I took a walk around my neighborhood. I felt like a giant Humpty Dumpty deviled egg waddling through my neighborhood, but I did walk.

Then I went to see my friend, Diane, at the hospital. That was hard.

Then I came home and sat down to write this post and realized I needed some key lime motivation.

My emotions are pretty tricky right now. I'm keeping them smashed down until the appropriate moment to grieve fully. Maybe that's why my writing has lacked emotion lately.

I will tell you the last thing Diane whispered to me today (she actually called me back to her bed so that I would lean down to hear her): "Keep writing. Keep writing. Keep writing."

I will, Diane.

Thought I'd share this with you. I liked it a lot.

Flashback Friday

What was Easter like when you were little? For example, did you receive a basket with toys and candy? Was the Easter Bunny part of your family's celebration? Did your family integrate both secular and spiritual aspects of the day? Did you dye Easter eggs. . . .and did your family eat them afterwards? Did you usually get a new outfit? (Post a picture if you have one!) Does any Easter stand out particularly? You might also share how your Easter today is similar or different to your childhood?

Easter was a wonderful holiday for me when I was little. I was reared in a home of faith, so going to church and remembering the meaning of Easter was important.

Now that that important stuff is out of the way, let me just say I also loved Easter for the "most wrong" of reasons: les bonbons.

My mom was not the sentimental type when I was young. She bought the dime store baskets woven of plastic straw wrapped in cellophane, which, looking back seems kind of disappointing considering all I did for my kids in the way personalizing each basket which they've had assigned to them since their first Easters.

But I am not my mom.

Not yet, anyway. But give me a couple of years because every day I'm becoming her more and more. Just ask my husband.

Anyway.

I have to admit I loved my ugly yearly baskets. So thank you, Mother.

Also, I have an affinity for pastels, so Easter decor and colors appeal to me, except for the Peeps. I cannot do Peeps.

Every Easter my mom would buy me a new church outfit, usually a dress with matching hat, gloves and purse. Oh, and anklets and white patent-leather type shoes that went "tip tap" when I walked across the kitchen linoleum.

That enchanting "tip tap" almost catapulted me into my tap dancing career, except dancing was against the law in my church of origin, so I didn't get far. In fact, I only got as far as the church sidewalk where the adults gathered after church for talk for 17 hours. With a little blonde heretic tap dancing around them.

The best Easter I ever had was the year aliens invaded my mother's body, and she somehow decided to give my brother and me two live chicks and a duckling, which we kept in a cardboard box for a couple of weeks. Heaven for a few weeks. I LOVE baby chickens.

So here are some pics from Easters past. I will probably do a post closer to Easter to comment on the Easter finery. For now, simply gaze upon the awkward family photos.






Thanks, Linda, at Mocha With Linda!

On the Subject of Dieting and the Holidays

Many of you know I joined a gym in May. For a long time, progress was slow-going. And then, in early November, something magical happened.

I lost quite a bit. My total since May was hovering around 15+ lbs or so, or another way to look at it, 12 inches (compiled from all over.) Yes, even my neck lost weight. Way to go, neck.

And then late November came. Something UNmagical happened.

Do I have to say any more?

Was it the buckeyes? Was it the sudden craving for those frozen, tasteless, minced together chicken patties with the crispy coating? Was it Starbucks Peppermint Mocha?

The answer is yes, yes it was. "Yes" to all of these and so much more.

Wha happen??

I don't know! I think it is holiday mania.

We've had some stress here in the Crow household. I can tell you now that for a while we thought Jorge might have the "c" word, but the biopsy came back clean. His job situation is totally weird. Mine was looking weird for a while but appears to be OK now. I have no Christmas shopping done because we're doing everything differently this year, and yet, I feel a knot form in my stomach every time someone on Facebook exclaims, "Christmas shopping? ALL DONE! WHEEEE!"

At this point, "Wheee!" can only be met by my popping a buckeye into my mouth.

So this might explain the "lapse" in weight loss progress.

But seriously, have I eaten SEVEN pounds worth of buckeyes and such over the last week??

Once again: Yes, yes I have.

To top it all off, a girl I go to church with told me this week that she remembers looking at our house several years ago when we had it up for sale. I did not know her then.

She said, "It's the weirdest thing. I can't remember much about your house, but I do remember a refrigerator magnet that said, 'Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.'"

Ahhh. That would be from when I worked at Weight Watchers.

I would like to amend that statement:

Nothing tastes as good as a buckeye washed down by a big old glass of milk chased by another buckeye.

So how are you doing with all the edible holiday temptation?

The Tale of the Thanksgiving Miracle of 2009

Recently I mentioned that my son, 20, now has a girlfriend. (His name is not actually "20" as it appears in this awkward sentence. It is Jordan. He is 20 years old.) I am very happy about this situation because she is a great girl. I keep trying to make a good impression on her, and yet, I fail.

But this is the tale of the Thanksgiving Miracle, so I'll move on from that unpleasant topic.

Interestingly, since the girlfriend, I've noticed that Jordan is more in touch with his nurturing side.

For instance, he and his girlfriend bought a fish together, a male Beta named "Barry," short for "Barracuda."

I asked him, "So, does this situation make this fish my 'grandfish'?"

Yes, apparently, it does.

I would have preferred to have a LEGITIMATE grandfish, but I have vowed to love this fish unconditionally.

So when he came home for Thanksgiving break Wednesday night, Jordan came in the door with laundry, Barry and a live plant in tow.

I'm having visions of diaper bags and car seats because everyone knows once you have a fish AND a plant, you're just a step or two away from a dog. And then everyone knows what happens after that: diaper bags, strollers and car seats. Oh wait a minute, that's just MY dog. Most people have a baby after the dog and then get the car seats, etc.

Anyway, Jordan brought Barry in a small container and proceeded to put him back into his regular bowl furnished stylishly by the girlfriend with snazzy black pearl foliage and sparkle rocks. Did I mention I like this girl?

As he did this, he told me all about how talented and brilliant Barry is. It seems that Barry has been following Girlfriend's finger up and down. He has also been anticipating his feeding. And he blows bubbles.

Not that I'm bragging, but have you seen my grandfish??

So Barry gets all situated in his bowl, and we put him in the family room. Jordan is on the computer, and I'm watching TV. Occasionally I glance at Barry and note how talented he is.

However, at one point, Barry looked ... sleepy.

I said, "Jordan, does the fish sleep a lot?"

He said, "Yes. He always does that."

I said, "OK. But does he kind of float like that when he sleeps?"

So Jordan goes to Barry and says, "Uh oh." He pokes him with his finger. Barry does not respond.

You can imagine what was going through my head: "The Girlfriend is never going to trust me or my household again!" In an instant, I considered the old sit-com switcheroo where you run out and buy a look-alike replacement and hope the owner is none the wiser.

People on Facebook offered helpful ideas such as: "Maybe he died of SFS, 'Shaken Fish Syndrome' from the car ride."

Jordan tried several times to revive Barry, mainly by poking him, but alack and alas, Barry appeared to have already crossed The Rainbow Bridge.

So my son, being the man of honor that he is, said, "Guess I'd better go make the bad news phone call."

I yelled after him, "Tell her it wasn't my fault! Tell her I didn't cause it!"

So he broke the news and walked away with the fish bowl.

The next day was Thanksgiving. Later in the day, I said, "So did you flush Barry?" Because I'm all sensitive and everything like that.

And he said, no, I put him in my room.

???

I'm not sure why he did this, unless he just needed "time" before the flushing ceremony. But he's 20, not 2.

Anyway, Jordan went to his room and returned with unbelievable good and joyous tidings: "Barry is alive!"

"What?" I say in disbelief. "But I saw you poke him and how he floated! He was, as Ebenezer Scrooge said about Bob Marley (wait, that was Jacob Marley) 'deader than a doornail!'"

Jordan said, "I know, but I just saw his fins moving. It's like he's hibernating or something."

And do you know that as the days have passed, that fish has rebounded. Not 100%, but he's returning to us.

Apparently, he still has work left to do here on Earth. And I get another chance to win over the Girlfriend.

And that is the story of the Thanksgiving Miracle of 2009.

How was your Thanksgiving?

Today's the Day!

1. Are you sticking to traditional Thanksgiving foods this year, or are you being culinarily adventurous?

2. Tell me something concrete that you're thankful for. (Something you can literally touch, see, etc., not a concept like "hope.")

3. You knew the flip side was coming: Share about something intangible that you're thankful for.

4. Share one vivid Thanksgiving memory. It doesn't have to be deep or meaningful, just something that remains etched in your memory.

5. What is one thing that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt is going to happen this Thanksgiving because it always does, year after year?

6. Do your pets get any left-overs?

7. Does your family pray before the big meal? If so, do you join hands while seated, stand, repeat a formal prayer or offer a spontaneous prayer? Who does the praying?

8. Will you be watching football in the afternoon? If not, what will you be doing?

9. There are two distinct camps of people on this issue: How do you feel about oysters in the dressing/stuffing?

10. Do you consider yourself informed about the first Thanksgiving?

11. Which variety of pie will you be enjoying?

12. Do you feel for the turkey?? (This is a humorous throw back question related to the 12th question in another Random Dozen!)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE! BE BLESSED! BE A BLESSING! Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Random Dozen ~ Thanksgiving Edition!

In addition to making this a Thanksgiving theme this week, we are bumping it up to the beginning of the week to prevent a "meme tank" on Wednesday and Thursday. That is, I think we'll be too busy later to get our Random on. So let's do it now.

PREVIEW today; post and link TOMORROW.

1. Are you sticking to traditional Thanksgiving foods this year, or are you being culinarily adventurous?

2. Tell me something concrete that you're thankful for. (Something you can literally touch, see, etc., not a concept like "hope.")

3. You knew the flip side was coming: Share about something intangible that you're thankful for.

4. Share one vivid Thanksgiving memory. It doesn't have to be deep or meaningful, just something that remains etched in your memory.

5. What is one thing that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt is going to happen this Thanksgiving because it always does, year after year?

6. Do your pets get any left-overs?

7. Does your family pray before the big meal? If so, do you join hands while seated, stand, repeat a formal prayer or offer a spontaneous prayer? Who does the praying?

8. Will you be watching football in the afternoon? If not, what will you be doing?

9. There are two distinct camps of people on this issue: How do you feel about oysters in the dressing/stuffing?

10. Do you consider yourself informed about the first Thanksgiving?

11. Which variety of pie will you be enjoying?

12. Do you feel for the turkey?? (This is a humorous throw back question related to the 12th question in another Random Dozen!)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE! BE BLESSED! BE A BLESSING! Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Today's Column in the Muncie Star Press

No, I didn't write about giving up the Camaro or being afraid of bears on vacation. I did, however, write about the hotel fire alarm experience, which you see depicted here but must read every word to totally get the picture. [Clever enticement to read the column, eh?]

Coming to You from Sevierville, TN

Sunday, 7:35 pm

Hi, Y'all.

I'm in Sevierville (near Gatlinburng) for a couple of days for my daughter's national dance competition.

We arrived last night (in the new CRV, no less, very smooth ride, ahhh) and began our adventure this morning with Jorge and Kristin enjoying a morning run while I slept in, which is the first time I've done that in ... days. Ha. Just kidding. I rarely sleep in because I'm more of a morning person than a late night one. So it felt really weird, like a sin or something.

For relaxation pleasure, I brought a plethora of magazines and one novel because I had big plans for the pool, which materialized due to an additional plethora of Tennessee sunshine. I was in non-office heaven.

A couple hours later a restaurant, Kristin, sitting across from me, said, "Mom, how did you get all of those mosquito bites or hives or whatever?"

Looking down, I saw that I appeared to have leprosy.

It took me a second to figure out what was going on. I had used, for the first time, a spray-on sunscreen which turned out not to be a good idea because in spraying my shoulders, I didn't realize that the fine mist I was feeling was actually not fine at all, and indeed left white spots all over me the size of peas. Perhaps there is a river around here in which I can go dip 7 times or something.

You wouldn't think it would be all that noticeable, but during the checkout at a CVS, the cashier asked me, and I quote: "Now how did you get that funky sunburn?"

Nice.

This afternoon, I sat on the 2nd floor balcony of the hotel trying to write my column for the paper which will be printed July 4, with the ground-level pool to my left and the foothills of the Smokies to my right. It would have been quite picturesque except helicopter tours kept flying overhead which reminded me of giant bumblebees because they were yellow and black and "buzzed" menacingly. So I gave up and came in here.

Right now I'm in the lobby where I'm allowed 15 minutes on this computer, but so far, since no one else is around, I have broken that law already. Apparently, with sleeping in and hogging time on the computer, I am having a wild first day of vacation.

This hotel is supposed to have an antebellum feel. Directly to my left are large portraits of Clark Gable and Vivienne Leigh as Rhett and Scarlett beside an old-timey hutch filled with GWTW memorabilia, plus two glass-encased large sets of Rhett and Scarlett dolls on each side of the hutch, about 24" tall each. Very kitschy.

The two ladies behind the desk are having a LENGTHY and boisterous discussion about whether "swapped" is a real word. They have spelled it about 6 times, used it in different sentences, decided "changed out" sounds classier, and then revisited the whole conundrum again. I just want to yell out, "Yes. Yes it IS a word. It is the past tense of 'swap.' Please use it without further consternation and/or discussion." But then I would just be a rude Yankee, and there's no need for that because they are lovely women. Just really vocabulary-conscious lovely women. Like the bumblebee helicopters, buzzing around me.

The highlight of today, though, was eating at The Islamorada Fish Company restaurant, situated smack dab in the middle of a 130,000 sq. ft. Pro Bass megalo-store complete with stuffed (taxidermied?) wild animals, indoor waterfalls and a 13,00 gallon aquarium. Sounds strange, I know, but when I get home, I'll post pics, and you will see that it is stranger than you thought.

Since we're here with friends whose daughter is also dancing, we are planning a wild game of Farkle tonight, so if I don't post early in the morning, you know the partying just got out of hand here tonight at "Tara."

Happy Fodder's Day 2009

So here is the one and only decent pic of the kids with Jorge the Jabanero on Father's Day. If you click on the pic, you will see that Zoe is even smiling.


Before that pic, there was this chaotic pic plus 10 more like it:



Among those being the traditional "Take a Hunk Out of Your Dad's Shoulder" Father's Day pic:



Followed by the ever-precious, "The dog just did a stinker" pic:



Not to be overshadowed by the "Why did God make siblings?" shot in which the first-born dodges the long arm of the brother and the ham-face of the sister:



Here are the kids and me (we like to go barefoot and have holes in our jeans for special occasions):



Behold the kebabs at my brother and sister-in-law's house. Oh yeah. She is one of "those" cooks who makes every dish finish cooking at the same time and produces food of more than one color and serves food at appropriate temps all in one meal. (Show-off!) Lunch was delicious. They just returned from cruising Costa Rica & Belize and she prepared some dishes they ate there. But no matter how much they travel, you still can't take the Indiana out of my brother who once told customs officials at the Canadian border that his nationality is "Hoosier."



Jorge and Dad selecting their warm and tasty food:



Here we are sacked out after the meal. That is my Hoosier brother on the stool in front of the fireplace.



Dad reading his card from us:





I am my father's only daughter.



Here we are on the way home where all three kids were at one point texting at the same time, so I said, "Hey. Put all your phones together so I can take a pic," and they said, "No, because you will just say on your blog that even on holidays we don't like you and prefer to text friends instead of talk to you which isn't true."

Well then.

Look at these kids, who would rather, even on a holiday, text strangers instead of talk to me.



Last shot: The kids bought Jorge a birdfeeder, which he wanted and hung in our tree right away. Score, kids!