Balalaika!

I sent the video with the Ukulele Orchestra to a bunch of people and was blessed to receive this in return. Thought I'd share it. Very impressive. There's even Beethoven in it!

Saving our National Parks

I was lucky enough to visit a number of our National Parks. They are awesome priceless national treasures that can't be replaced.

MaMuse Chico Gospel

Heard this for the first time today and thought I'd share it.

Strange But True

This apparently not a hoax....

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 221

Can't believe it's already Friday again. Not having one of my best days. It's fairly warm out but it's damp and that time of year when sometimes it's warmer out than in. Anyway, I had hoped to maybe do my wordzzles on time, but it looks like - yet again -I will probably not post until Saturday. Sigh.

4:50 Saturday update:  Done! I kind of enjoyed these words... 


Words for this week's 10-word challenge:   substance, as the crow flies, sharpen, purring, crater, forgiveness, frantic, eager, blank slate, coffee  And for the mini:  paradise, paper bag, heat, what do you mean by that, licorice


My mega: 

Tamara woke feeling somewhat frantic. She hated it when she had dreams with what she liked to call "substance" that she could not quite remember and/or understand. This one had been quite a mega production. "Licorice," she said to the purring ebony kitty who was rubbing against her leg in an effort to speed up the feeding process, "I had the strangest dream last night. I need a cup of coffee to sharpen my thinking and then I'm eager to get it all written down before my brain becomes a blank slate with only fragments of memory. Hope you don't mind if I tell you about it while I get organized," she said, as she pushed the brew button on the coffee maker and pulled a paper bag with a couple of bagels out of the cabinet. "So anyway, in this dream I was standing at the edge of a huge crater that seemed to be a dying volcano... I say dying because it was still giving off heat, but it wasn't glowing or anything like that. Anyway, this strange wizard kind of person - he looked sort of like Dumbledore from the Harry Potter books - appears suddenly and he says to me "Paradise and forgiveness as the crow flies... that is your path." "What do you mean by that," I reply, but he just smiles one of those mysterious smiles - the Mona Lisa kind - and hands me a picture of my brother... and then beams out with a kind of StarTrek twinkle.  So I'm standing there trying to figure out what he meant and ANOTHER wizard shows up and says. 'Crowdar has spoken true, but he forgot to mention, that before a crow flies, she must explore the depths from which she is rising.... that's all I remember, Licorice. It seems like it ought to be really obvious to me what they are talking about, but I'm not sure... and what if one of them is a good wizard and one is a bad wizard? Who do I trust? See what I mean? I can't wait to talk to my other therapist about this, but thanks for listening in the meantime, my furry Munchkin."


My mini: 

As far as Fred Fenster was concerned, Angela's Candy Emporium and Ice Cream shop was as close to paradise as he ever needed to get. Her candy - which was homemade and weighed and sold in small brown paper bags - was beyond delicious. It tasted like love, like heaven. Her ice creams too - his favorite was called Licorice Ambrosia - had some kind of magical quality that left one full in spirit as well as body. Of course some of this could have been because Fred had fallen madly, hopelessly in love with Angela two years earlier and lived for his daily visits to her shop. Recently, he had had the courage to compliment her. "Angela," he had said, "I think you are not of this earth." "Why, what do you mean by that," she had replied, somewhat perplexed by his words. He was usually so quiet and reserved that she had been caught off guard by such a long and rather fantastical sentence coming out of him.  "Well..." He took another spoonful of ice cream for courage, "It's just that you are so beautiful and that your candy and this ice cream are more than just tasty... they are nurturing and nourishing. They... you... are wonderful," he managed to cough out, the heat rising in his cheeks. Blushing, Angela, laughed delightedly, "Why that's the kindest think anyone has ever said to me... and so poetically as well. I always suspected you were a poet, even though you are so quiet. Thank you for the kind words."  "You have wondered about me?" Fred exclaimed, his astonishment at such a thought pushing aside his insecurity for a brief moment. "I can't imagine someone as wonderful as you even noticing me..." And before he knew it, he has asked her out on a date and she had said yes and by the same time the next year they were happily married and a year after that, they had twins. In finding love, Fred also found himself. His heart opened itself and flowed onto paper in two books of poetry and then a novel - Paradise in Her Eyes - which quickly found its way onto the best seller's list. 


And my 10-word: 

Sitting sipping a cup of coffee, Jane stared vacantly at the TV which was playing in the background of her thoughts. It was a movie called As the Crow Flies.  It had gotten great reviews and she had been very eager to see it, but so far there seemed  to be very little substance to enrich the blank slate of her empty life. So far - 15 minutes into it - the film was mostly shots of a frantic (and of course beautiful and scantily clad) young woman trapped in some kind of crater alternately trying to escape and resting to muse on the back story behind her predicament, which included a gorgeous cat (star of the show as far as Jane was concerned), a handsome lover and her "homely" (also very beautiful) jealous sister whose purringly whispered hatred that could only have been missed by someone who needed to do so major sharpening of her wits (or who perhaps had none) if she was to survive crossing the street, none-the-less the evil plot of a bitter and psychotic sibling. The movie was supposedly about redemption and forgiveness.  "Worst movie ever," Jan said to the walls. "I should finish my screenplay and submit it, if this is the best Hollywood has to offer." Oddly, it was the most inspiration she had felt in several years. She sat at her desk that very day and began reworking an old story she had written five years earlier... and she submitted it. In later years, when people asked her what her favorite movie was, she would say, "As the Crow Flies. It was so bad, that it inspired me to write one of my own."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  howling woman, experience, selection, for sale, star, crackers, you've got mail, limp, fuzz, characteristic 

And for the mini: birds in flight, rainy day, ribbon, blanket, Yikes!

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain

I found this kind of delightful. First the idea of a ukulele orchestra is entertaining in and of itself... and then they turned out to make pretty good music.

Clinton's Excellent Explanation...

Clinton is so good at giving clear, understandable explanations of complex issues.



and

How to Build a Cooler City

Saw this on the PBS News Hour last week on Chicago's efforts to lower temperatures and save money and the ecology and thought it was fantastic. I had heard the idea of roof-top gardens for city buildings before, but some of the other ideas are just so clever.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 220

Almost forgot it was Wordzzle day. Just turned my heat on for the first time. It's supposed to go into the TWENTIES tonight. Argh. Beautiful day, though. Half rainy, half sunny.  Anyway... I'll probably post my exercises tomorrow. Think it's another lone wordzzler week since CJ who has spared me wordzzling solitude of late has an exam or a paper to write or something like that.


5:22 Sunday:  Finally posted something. I apologize about the last one. It's shameless political pandering not written very well. I was too tired to scrap it.


Words for this week's 10-word challenge:  funding, week, truck, paper, salt, that's why we're here, globe, lemonade, tight, vigor  And for the mini:  extreme makeover, perfect sense, good news, cheater, share



My mega:

Funding for her extreme makeover had not come easily to Sara. So determined was she to make lemonade out of the lemon she perceived herself to be when she looked in the mirror, that she had sold her home, her truck and almost everything she owned in order to recreate herself. Although she had a pretty good income, she placed the lion's share into her make-over fund and forced herself to live on a very tight budget, cutting coupons from her local paper - the Daily Globe - every week. Despite the efforts of those around her to convince her that she was beautiful as she was (and it was true) there was no convincing her. She was a zealot for her cause, pursuing it with maniacal vigor and refusing to be a cheater even on the most special occasions. It all made perfect sense to her and she could not see what it was doing to her. She could not see the dimming of her joy, how tired she had become, or the creeping depression that her friends saw when they looked at her and their efforts to persuade her otherwise was received like salt on an open wound.  After four years of watching Sara struggle and suffer, her friends felt the need for an intervention. Ten of them knocked on her door one Sunday afternoon, picnic baskets in hand. "You won't talk me out my dream," Sara declared before anyone of them had spoken."It means more to me than anything.and if you care about me, you'll support me in reaching my goal." "That's why we're here," here best friend Megan replied. "We have good news. We think you are crazy and we have watched you struggling to seek something you don't need because you are already so beautiful to us. We've spent a lot of time trying to talk you out of it, but finally, it occurred to us, that instead, maybe the best thing we could do as friends would be to help you. The ten of us have each reached into our piggy banks and believe we have come up with enough to get you to your goal. We did a lot of research and have gotten you a spot on one of the make-over shows. We did this because we love you and because we hope that once this is behind you we can have our beautiful friend Sara back because we miss you."  For her part, Sara sat in stunned silence, tears running down her cheeks. In truth, she was not sure how she felt. Her wish granted, she suddenly realized that her obsession with the goal had somewhat overtaken the goal itself... and she realized too, that she was a little scared. She also saw - something she had not seen before - how much her friends loved her and how lucky she was to have them. 


My mini: 

Mark Cheater, unfortunately, was true to his name.  (Who says Cheaters never prosper, he liked to say.)  He was a con man of the worst kind, preying on vulnerable families with a "good news" scam that promised them an extreme make-over on their homes for only a small share of the cost. It all made perfect sense the way he explained it and since he was careful not to promise anything too over the top, they tended to trust him and happily signed any paper he put in front of them. Having taken a sizable share of their savings, he then stole their homes as well, reselling them to equally vulnerable marks. He was smart enough not to stay in one area too long, but eventually his list of victims became long enough that the cops began tracking him and were able to run a sting operation that landed him in "the Big House."  Although, they couldn't undo the emotional damage done to dozens of families, they were able to recover a substantial percentage of what he had stolen and thanks to the publicity that came with the trial, many of those families were adopted by the communities in which they lived and ended up - ironically - with exactly what Mr. Cheater had promised them. 


And the 10-word: 

"How come you're trying to put salt in my lemonade?" truck driver and would be novelist, George Goodheart replied to a reporter from a weekly paper, who was stopping drivers at the local truck stop and interviewing them (with a clear bias) about their views on the election and who could best heal the current tight economy. "I support Obama," he declared with passionate vigor. "Recovery has been slow, but he kept us from going over the cliff despite obstruction from the GOP and Congress. With more of the requested funding for his programs the economy would be doing better.That's why we're here and still struggling:  Because of what Bush left and because of Congress. Around the globe, countries trying it the GOP's way are not recovering. Under Obama we're slowly getting back on course. And we haven't thrown the poor and the unemployed into a ditch as the Republicans would gladly have done. I'm voting Democratic all the way. The other guy.... well as far as I can tell he's incapable of telling the truth and he isn't very good at math or details. I don't trust anybody who proposes big changes but wants to keep how he'll make them a secret. Doesn't pass the smell test. I'm an Obama/Biden 2012 voter and proud of it." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  substance, as the crow flies, sharpen, purring, crater, forgiveness, frantic, eager, blank slate, coffee 

And for the mini:  paradise, paper bag, heat, what do you mean by that, licorice

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Thought for Food

Some food for thought....



You can also go to the Hunger Site daily and donate a cup of food. Ten seconds of your time each day adds up to 401.5 cups of food each year. Even if only 500 people participate, that comes to 200,750 cups of food.  If a thousand people participate it becomes 401,500 cups... 50,000 people - at the cost of ten seconds of their day - could provide 20,075,000.  That's a lot of food for not much effort. Just a thought.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 219

Oops... I forgot all about Wordzzles today, so I'm posting very late. My apologies.  It's late, so I will yet again be putting off doing my exercises until tomorrow. Sorry again.

6:10 Saturday: Finally finished. Had a hard time doing these. I like the last one, just because I like my play on words. The other two are pretty lame. Now I can go read CJ's offering. Yippee! I'm not the only one this week!

Words for this week's 10-word challenge:  gratitude, immediate, vivid, choice, fragments, carving, charity, solitude, lagging, where did I put my glasses   And for the mini:  irresponsible, teddy bear, colorful, knife and fork, wheels


My mega: 

Amanda Collins set down her knife and fork and sighed deeply, enjoying a few moments of solitude.  and the luxury of being a little irresponsible and self-indulgent for a change. (Joe was working late and she had treated herself to Chinese take-out despite the fact that their budget was lagging slightly behind their expenses.) She would have loved a glass of wine but since that was not possible at the moment, settled on a glass of water instead. She could hardly believe that it was already September and that she was six months into married life. It seemed like only yesterday and not three years ago that she had met her husband at an event for the charity event in New York City...it had been called the Fragments Ball and Auction for Autism, she recalled, though she no longer remembered why. At the auction, Joe had outbid her on a wonderful carving she had fallen in love with. Afterwards he had asked her out on a date and a year after that - when he proposed - he had given her the ring attached to the small carved object that had brought them together in the first place. How could she not say yes to someone that romantic?  Reaching for the cookbook that was lying on the edge of the table, she whispered to herself, "Enough goofing off. Time to earn my keep and start planning the menu. Where did I put my glasses? I guess it's really true that pregnancy impacts memory." She was not looking forward to Thanksgiving. Not that she wasn't full of gratitude for all her blessings, but beyond the work involved in cooking for nine people, the politics of playing hostess to her own family and Joe's at the same time was daunting indeed. There was no choice, unfortunately. It had been scheduled months ago, before the big news. She was still only 3 months pregnant, but what she and Joe liked to call the Grandparent Wars were in full swing. Almost immediately on hearing the news a short two weeks ago, both sets of parents had apparently completely lost their minds. Her as yet unborn child had a huge and vividly colorful collection of teddy bears in many sizes, and two of the classiest baby wheels (strollers) on the market. And there were promises of furniture and a host of other gifts. Not that they didn't appreciate their parents' enthusiasm and their offers of help, but it was already clear that finding a way to draw a line so that they got to enjoy the journey and excitement of preparing for their first child together was going to be tricky. We'll work it out, I guess, she whispered to the miracle still forming in her belly. Lucky you.... to be so wanted.


And my mini:

"How could you be so Irresponsible! I want an explanation and I want it now! I can't believe you did that! Put down your knife and fork and answer me now, young man!"  Fred "Wheels" McCarthy could hardly believe the fuss she was making. Looking at the filthy, mutilated pile of his younger sister's once colorful teddy bears, he replied. "We needed targets, Mom and Annie said we could borrow them." "Annie is three and you know full well that she didn't know you were going to destroy them.," she said shaking her head in aggravation. "Well, you will pay for them. No computer for a week and you will work until I decide you have done enough to pay for replacing them." "But, Mom," Fred started to offer his best whine.... then, looking at her face thought better of it. "OK," he said, instead. "Good decision," his mother said, "Now, finish your dinner and when you are done you can clear the table and help me wash the dishes... for starters." Life, Fred, thought to himself, is so unfair.


And the 10-word:

"Where did I put my glasses?" Choice Martin, asked his wife, whose immediate response was - incorrectly in this instance - probably on top of your head." Despite her penchant for gentle mockery, Choice felt nothing but gratitude for Jenny, his beloved companion of 30 years. She had rescued him - he still  felt a kind of awe-struck wonder at the fact that she loved him - from a life of wounded solitude. His had not been a happy childhood. His mother - a fanatical anti-abortion activist (hence the name Choice) had made it clear that she had given birth to him as kind of a noble act of charity because it was, she was fond of telling him, "the right thing to do." He had vivid fragments of memory of being forced to stand outside clinics at the age of 2 or 3, carrying a sign that said (he learned later) "Make the right choice." Annoyed by his lack of toddler gratitude and enthusiasm, she would scold him for lagging and lolly-gagging, explaining how less morally right mothers - usually, she would point to some young woman entering a clinic - might have ended his life before it began. By the time he was a teen, he found himself rather wishing that she had spared him and when he reached his 20s and moved out on his own, he began working for a pro-choice (ah, the irony) organization in the community where he first met his beloved Jenny, whose perceptive heart saw beneath his surface and began gently, patiently, carving through the layers of hurt and shame and self protection to help him realize that he was not a burden to be endured, but a treasure to be mined. She had taught him the difference between love and duty and he had felt not only loved, but liked, for the first time in his life.  His mother had never spoken to him again. "Your choice,"  he had replied in their last conversation, wondering if she understood the irony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  funding, week, truck, paper, salt, that's why we're here, globe, lemonade, tight, vigor 

And for the mini:  extreme makeover, perfect sense, good news, cheater, share

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Remembering

It's October 2nd again. Gandhi's birthday and also the anniversary of my older sister's murder. It has been 24 years since my phone rang on Sunday evening and my father's shaky voice said, "Carole's dead." Carole, the kindest, funniest and most generous big sister a person could have... dead. And then he told me she had been murdered. Stabbed to death. We didn't know much more at that point. Just that my beautiful, amazing sister was gone. Usually, I write about her... about how she read to me when I was little, how she gave me my first Marguirite Henry book (KING OF THE WIND) and read it with me. How she taught me grammar with humor. "Me and you" is a mistake I never make because  she would pretend to cry and say, "You called me mean." I'd tell you about how she took me with her on a trip to Europe when I was a sophomore in college, shortly before she got married.. Usually I'd tell you about what an awesome parent she was to her own children and what magic and joy they brought into my life - both while she was alive - and still. I see her in each of them in small ways and large. Carole was the best that my well-meaning but screwed up parents gave to the world. She was smart and funny and passionate (I suspect much of my passion for politics came from her...) about life and ideas and everything.  She was and is one of life's greatest gifts. She died too young. She died too violently, especially for one so gentle and loving. There's so much to say about her. But this year, I want to talk about something else as well, because by the time October 2nd rolls around again next year, Walter Anderson, the boy who stabbed her to death, will have had his first parole hearing. It is possible - though I hope unlikely - that he could be out of prison at this time next year and I don't know how I feel about that.

Or, I kind of do. I'm surprised to realize that the thought of that makes me very angry. My better angels seem to be vacationing. I don't believe Walter Anderson is capable of reform. I don't believe he even understood what he had done. He expressed regret, but it sounded and felt more like regret for having been caught. He couldn't even remember what Carole looked like. She was a random victim. She happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong moment. He wanted to kill someone and she was there. Part of me weeps for someone that damaged. How could life have dished out that much pain and anger and rage to a 16-year old boy?  There is something wrong with a world in which that can happen. I thought that then and I think it now. Still, the damage to him is done and from what I saw of him at the trial, seems unlikely to be repaired. He did not seem intellectually or emotionally capable of redemption. The damage he did to me and my sister's children lives on. 

Not that our lives haven't moved on. Carole's children are amazing. They have moved through their loss and pain and become unique and awesome adults... creative, kind, generous, intelligent... the best of both of their parents. I am alive.  I am still broken in many ways, but the truth is that I was broken before Carole was killed. I was already a cracked vase that shattered with that last blow. I have slowly been gluing myself back together. 

Anyway, I'm surprised by my anger. Troubled by it, too. The part of me that hopes Walter Anderson  (a damaged 16-year-old boy) has found redemption is no match - at least in this moment in time - for the angry, hurt me. 

I miss my sister. It's as simple as that.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 218

I have become the lone wordzzler once again. All the worse since all I'm posting these days is wordzzles and the occasional political video. Still haven't decided on how to deal with the photo issue (out of space). Doesn't feel like a post to me unless it is decorated with some visual distraction or another. So it goes. Not sure if I will try to do my exercises this evening or put them off until Saturday as usual.

Saturday 5:00 update:  I am happily NOT the lone wordzzler. Yee ha! Finally did my exercises. Not that good, but they are done.  Now I'm off to visit the other wordzzler, bless her heart.

Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:  gargantuan, Alice doesn't live here any more, gas, paper clips, speak, advice, state, ginger, spray, important  And for the mini:  hamburger, ostrich, vinegar, perpendicular, frozen



My mega:

On the advice of her therapist, who insisted that it was profoundly important her to face her fears and speak to her mother about the pain and abuse in her childhood, Amanda Spray found herself on the road to her childhood home. It was a challenge she had resisted for weeks, months, years. "You can live like an ostrich, frozen with your head in the sands of a past that is long gone," Ginger Grand, her therapist had said a few weeks ago, "or you can face your fears and state your case to her. I'm not promising you any miraculous change from her. She is who she is. But however cruel or indifferent she may be, you need to face her to understand that she is not the gargantuan monster that the inner three year old controlling your life right now believes her to be. As I told you, I'm willing to come with you because I know how frightened you are."  They had stopped for gas and since Ginger's anxiety was so intense that she was having trouble remaining perpendicular, had decide to stop for a bite to eat.  The diner across from the gas station was called Alice's Restaurant. This made them both laugh and sing a few bars of the Arlo Guthrie song and that alone eased some of Amanda's anxiety.  The place was not what they might have wished - the menu was four typed pages held together with paper clips - and the waitress (to put it kindly) was neither friendly nor good at her job. "I guess Alice doesn't live here any more," Ginger quipped and Amanda found herself laughing again and They both ordered a hamburgers. Amanda ordered a salad with some kind of vinegar dressing and Ginger opted for french fries.  Despite appearances, the food was good and by the time they left - having milked the Alice's Restaurant meme for many more laughs - Amanda felt steadier and ready to face what lay ahead. It was as though the restaurant's odd name and the song and the laughter had all been some divine preparation for what lay ahead. When it was all over, she wondered how she could ever have been so terrified of the sad, tired, bitter woman who was had shamed and brutalized her child self and become a giant specter still ruling her life. In real life she was small and rather pitiful. She had even apologized, although it was clear that she didn't really understand what she had done wrong. Still, it was something. When the left, she felt like a new woman. "Thank you for making me do this, Ginger. You are the best therapist ever." "I just pointed the way, Amanda. You had the courage to come here and face your fear. I'm very proud of you. Congratulations."


My mini:

Fred Martin could not believe the merchandise at the new supermarket - Perpendiculars, it was called for no apparent reason - which had just opened in his town with much fan fare. While they did still carry traditional foods like chicken and hamburger, they were actively marketing ostrich meat and eggs, buffalo, elk, bear and a host of other odd "delicacies," which he had no interest in trying. Even the frozen food aisle had a host of peculiar items. They did have an excellent selection of ice cream, though. He would give them that, he though, selecting a couple of items that he hoped would delight his girl friend, Jane. Heading towards the counter with his frozen bounty, he almost forgot the vinegar she had sent him to the store to purchase and gave thanks that he had remembered in time. Much to his irritation, such lapses in memory were the kind of thing Jane never let him live down. Luckily, she was a superlative cook and pretty and he loved her, so he lived with it and tried not to give her any extra ammunition.


And the 10-word:

Looking at the tragic state of her once lush garden which was now swarming with gargantuan spiders, Japanese beetles and an apparent host of other creepy crawly momsters, Ginger Matthews rather regretted not listening to Alice, the former owner's, repeated advice about how important it was to spray on a regular schedule. That kind woman had even left her some 50 pages of "Garden Guidance" suggestions clipped together with a giant paper clip thingy. When her neighbors and even her mother had tried to speak to her about the consequences of neglecting to tend to the garden, she had stubbornly refused to listen. (It was actually more that she hated being told what to do, than that she opposed spraying, but the result was the same regardless of her reasons.)  "Bunch of old gas bags," she had muttered to herself. And more than once as someone invoked the former owner's name, she had responded crankily: "Alice doesn't live here any more. I do." This made her present predicament even more disturbing. Unless she could find someone to help her undo the damage and cover her tracks, she would have to admit to being wrong. That would be even worse than being told what to do. "Stupid garden," she muttered, while frantically searching for gardeners on the internet. "Stupid bugs.... Ah, here's one... No Spray Organic Gardening." Even if they can't help, she mused happily, I can always blame them. And sighing happily, she picked up the phone and dialed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  gratitude, immediate, vivid, choice, fragments, carving, charity, solitude, lagging, where did I put my glasses

And for the mini:  irresponsible, teddy bear, colorful, knife and fork, wheels

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 217

Boy, did I mess up this week. Besides running late, I forgot to post new words for next week (corrected now) and  think I may have forgotten one or two other things even though I don't know what exactly they are yet.



AS HAS BECOME MY HABIT, I WILL PROBABLY POST MY EXERCISES TOMORROW AFTERNOON. MIGHT TRY LATER BUT AM UNINSPIRED AT THE MOMENT, SO....

SATURDAY 7:15 PM: MY APOLOGIES... A bit under the weather today. Will try to post tomorrow.

SUNDAY, 6:30 PM.  FINALLY done. Now I have to feed Tara Grace who is apparently starving. 



Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:  holding, retrospect, sniffles, ice, stepped in, falling off a cliff, grab, lavender, breakfast, after-life   And for the mini:  chewing, magnetic, how much is that doggie in the window, more or less, shaving

My mega: 

Chewing on her lip and holding back sniffles Amanda sat at the breakfast table more or less transported back in time by the song that was playing on the radio. How Much is that Doggie in the Window was a long-standing family joke of sorts. She had never had much faith in the idea of an after-life, but she could not help feeling like this was a message from her mother, who had died three weeks earlier. In retrospect, when she described it to her husband and her brother later that day, she explained that she had felt emotionally like she was both falling off a cliff and floating at the same time. The thing that had really grabbed her attention, she had told them, was that she could swear she had smelled lavender. "Mother always wore lavender," she said. "Funny, her brother said, "I thought I smelled lavender when I was driving to work this morning. Do you really think it might have been Mom? Wow." "I do, Joey, I do." she replied, not failing to notice as she spoke that her husband - who was at the sink shaving ice for their drinks - mad one what she thought of as his "I stepped in shit" faces. Stan was not just a skeptical of all things spiritual, he was scornful about them. "Get your imaginations under control, you two. The dead are dead. Gone. Dead. Mother Maggie is not visiting." As he made this pompous pronouncement, the magnetic refrigerator decoration that said "World's Best Mom," flew across the room, hitting him squarely on the forehead. "You were saying, dear?" Amanda said laughing. A bit shaken, Stan, looked unhappily at his wife and then with a laugh spoke to the air, "Subtle as always, Mother A.That hurt."


The mini:

The large shaggy creature chewing on what looked like some kind of doll, seemed to hold some kind of magnetic sway over Pam's emotions. She felt more or less compelled to go into the shop even though a dog was the last thing she needed, especially a LARGE, and VERY furry dog. Still, in she went. "How much is that doggie in the window," she asked the pimply young clerk who appeared to have cut himself several times while shaving. "The one in the window? You're interested in him? Don't tell the owner I said so, but I think he'd give that dog to you if you play your cards right. But you might want to think twice about taking him. That dog is - well - kind of different." Even with such a blunt warning and even though she did not really have room in her life for a dog, she seemed impelled to take Max - that was what he seemed to be saying his name was - home. She couldn't explain to anyone, herself included, but Max felt "familiar" to her, like they belonged together or like they had been together before. "Crazy," she whispered to herself. But it wasn't as she would learn over the coming weeks and months. Strange, but not crazy.


And the 10-word: 

Panic written all over her face, Lavender LaGriff grabbed her boy friend's arm and continued holding on for dear life as her feet slid out from under her on the ice of the rink. She felt like she was falling off a cliff and would soon be extracting revenge from the after life. Jimmy had caught her off guard while she was eating breakfast and still half asleep. Why had her mother not stepped in to stop her? "Lavender can't go ice skating," she could have said, "she has the sniffles and I don't want her getting sicker." But mother had not done any such thing. In fact she had encouraged it. In retrospect, three hours later, skimming over the ice, she was grateful for her mother's wisdom. Skating was FUN. Who knew!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  gargantuan, Alice doesn't live here any more, gas, paper clips, speak, advice, state, ginger, spray, important

And for the mini:  hamburger, ostrich, vinegar, perpendicular, frozen

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Jon Stewart Makes Me Laugh Instead of Cry

Jon Stewart at his best. Pure genius.

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 216

Late again. Absorbed in politics. Too absorbed. Will probably post my exercises tomorrow. 

6:00 PM - Finally posting. Guess I'm back to being the Lone Wordzzler again. 


Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: convention, top, case, bells, frolicking, organic, vice, listening, drenched, distinction   And for the mini:  outrage, ham and cheese, on the road, chief, immediately


My mega:

Vice President Samantha McGrath quietly savored the delicious ham and cheese omelet which had been brought to her hotel room a few minutes earlier by a lovely young woman who had compensated for the unfortunate distinction of being drenched in some awful perfume, by immediately telling her that she hoped that in another 4 years she could vote for Samantha to be the first female commander in chief. It was a good start to the day. Samantha enjoyed being on the road. Although, she relished the bells and whistles of high office, sometimes the environment of the White House was too stifling and insulated. Being a heart-beat away from the top job in the world was a mix of frustrating, daunting and inspiring. Timothy Hawks - besides being a great man and president - treated her as a true partner. He believed, he had told her, that someone who might one day have to fill his shoes (you never knew, he said), ought to have some idea about how to walk in them. And he had added, he valued both her wisdom and her common sense. He knew, he had told her, that there was a chance he might not live to see the end of his term. Even the mid-21st century, the threats were very real. She wondered if people would ever learn. She felt genuine outrage at the things that were said about him by the opposition. They played on the bigotry of those who - now that they had a gay president - looked back with longing to the days when they were upset about a black one. They accused him of frolicking around the White House and insisted that his sexuality was a threat to national security. One of them had even made the case that he should be impeached for immorality.  But despite all this, she loved politics; it was an organic part of her, like breathing or thinking. The big conventions were soul-nourishing for her. She loved listening to the speeches and talking to citizens from all over the nation, hearing their hopes and concerns. She loved making a difference in this world. Life was good, she thought, and getting better.


My mini:

Miranda's chief outrage while she was on the road was the difficulty of finding decent places to eat. The last time the band had done a concert tour she had been forced to virtually live on ham and cheese sandwiches. She had fired their manager at the end of that trip and had immediately informed his replacement that the longevity of her job would be contingent on her ability to provide real sustenance and NO... not even one... ham and cheese sandwiches. It turned out that in her previous life, Sandra has worked as a chef and could prepare a meal fit for angels. The other band members - who had mocked her obsession with food - were now willing to admit the error of their previous derision. It seemed to all of them like Sandra's food had magic in it. They had more energy, they were getting along better, they were all bursting with creative ideas - and best of all, perhaps - their performances were better. They felt it and so did the audiences. Concerts which had been doing reasonably well in the old days were now booked solid and their CDs were selling like hot cakes. Delicious, nutritious hot cakes, they added, laughing. Samantha was happy too, both for the appreciation of her skills and for the generous raise they had given her along with that gratitude. Not only that, they were going to call their next CD Soul Food Sandy. How cool was that!


My 10-word:

Frolicking across a grassy meadow drenched in dew might not be strictly conventional behavior for a top criminal lawyer, but George had never been in love before. He had taken Molly's case as a favor to his aunt Susan. It was something about whether the organic farm where she was buying her eggs was really organic or something like that. He didn't really quite understand the distinction, to be honest. Quite a change from dealing with prostitutes and the vice squad. He could not believe he had fallen so hard. She was so smart and so pretty and listening to her voice was like... like that song from The Music man about bells on the hill and never hearing them ringing.... Back in the house, Aunt Susan poked her sister in the ribs with a big grin on her face. "Didn't I tell you she was perfect for him? I love it when I'm right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  holding, retrospect, sniffles, ice, stepped in, falling off a cliff, grab, lavender, breakfast, after-life

And for the mini:  chewing, magnetic, how much is that doggie in the window, more or less, shaving

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

For Cat Lovers

What we will do for our four-legged friends....

The Names

For the 9/11 dead...

Jon Stewart AND Bill Clinton... Ah....

The Daily Show
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

And some Colbert....

The Colbert Report
Get More: Colbert Report Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,Video Archive

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 215

Well, I'm late and going to post my wordzzles tomorrow, but it was fun to not be the only player last week. Mabye we are making a come-back.



Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:   key, why, balance of power, the motor is running, yesterday, creaky chair, steel, hook, longing, pretzel   And for the mini:  oxen, merchandise, comfort zone, plastic bottle  (Just realized we are a word short on the mini this week, so it's a mini mini, I guess. Sorry.)

4:00 pm.  Finally done. Sorry about being a word short. Well, not really, I had a tough enough time with 14 words...

My mega:

Sitting in her creaky chair at her beat up old desk sipping water from a re-used plastic bottle, Samantha Steel was in her comfort zone. Well, that might be something of a stretch. Samantha didn't actually HAVE a comfort zone. She sometimes ached with longing for those distant yesterdays when the balance of power in her head had tilted towards normalcy. She had spent years trying to find the hook, the key to why her emotional wiring had gone askew, but the answer - and thus a solution - continued to elude her. Eventually, when it because clear that there would be no untwisting of the pretzel of misfiring axions in her brain, no matter how hard she worked at it, she decided to make what peace she could with the person she had become. At least at least the motor is running, she would tell herself, at least I'm alive. Today, though, looking over the merchandise in some new catalog that had come in the mail, she was taken back in time to happier days and fond memories of sitting with friends at the Four Oxen Bar and Grill in lower Manhattan. It would pass, she knew, but just for these few moments she felt rather sorry for herself. Then, with a deep sigh and a shake of her head, she shook it off. At least I have memories and many other blessings. "It is what it is," she said out loud. And then added. "Thank you for everything. I have no complaints whatsoever."


My mini:

Miranda Masters found herself deeply offended by the merchandise offered in the new Comfort Zone Living catalog. "What genius came up with the concept of designer plastic bottles," she muttered angrily. "They cut down trees to market this junk to pretentious fools and then put a picture of oxen on the cover and pretend they are trying to make a better world." Calling her assistant into her office, she handed the catalog over to her and said, "Another one, Margaret. See what you can find out about how much money actually goes to third world countries and how much goes into the pockets of a few greedy crooks. I have a feeling about this one. Lets see if we can put them out of business... or at least make sure they are forced to send the money people waste on this junk to the people the say they are serving.


And my 10-word:  the motor is running,  pretzel 

Jane Hook, her voice quavering with aggravation addressed her husband. "Francis Hook, husband and love of my life, please do something about that creaky chair before I'm forced to take matters into my own hands. That squeaking noise drives me crazy. Fix it or find it gone. That is my warning." "Yes, dear," her husband muttered, although it was clear he was not paying any attention to her words. "Information is the key," he muttered,  "but even though Obama is a great communicator, somehow the word fails to get out there. It gets drowned out in the sea of Republican double-speak Clinton's speech yesterday was brilliant and just deepens my longing for more real information Why can't we have more of that? Why doesn't he get credit for anything? Biden is right when he says the man has a spine of steel. He's also got a brilliant mind and a big heart. I don't know why there is so little recognition of his heart.... just because he doesn't put on a big show about it, I guess. This society is a mess. We are on the brink. We simply have to re-elect him. We are doomed if..."  Kissing the top of her husband's head, Jane Hook, took him by the hand. "You need to think about something else for a while or you'll make yourself sick. I've packed a picnic lunch and the motor is running in the garage. I know that's wicked, darling. I did it because I knew it would have the power to distract your attention from politics. Humor me. Let's go have a picnic, and then maybe stop by the mall for warm pretzel and a new chair for your desk... Oh... and put our Obama bumper sticker on the car.... and got a hundred more for us to pass out on our travels." "You're a good woman, Jane. Let's go pass out some bumper stickers!" "And buy a new chair," his wife reminded him with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  convention, top, case, bells, frolicking, organic, vice, listening, drenched, distinction

And for the mini:  outrage, ham and cheese, on the road, chief, immediately

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.