Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Weird Wednesday-Mandles

I saw this at Sudiegirl's so I am not being at all original. Mandles are the candle for a manly man. You can choose from such enticing aromas as Chuck Norris Sweat, Urinal Cake, and Wet Dog.

What no Diesel Fumes, Beer, or Old Sneaker scented mandles?

Calypso and I were invited to the Jersey Shore for the day so we will be enjoying the smells of Coppertone, Ocean Breeze, and Sandy Towel.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Plus ça change plus ça reste la même chose

When Calypso was very young she was extremely shy. She barely spoke to people she knew and she never spoke to strangers. She didn't even want eye contact with strangers. Diana was the one who filled a room and commanded attention with her red hair and matching fiery temperament. But being the younger brunette sister of a larger than life red head can be difficult and it may push one to step outside one's customary bounds.

It took Calypso until she was not quite 4 years old. We were in the local drugstore when, for roughly the millionth time, someone stopped to fuss over Diana by saying, "Where did you get that beautiful red hair?" Enough was enough. Calypso unwrapped her arms from around my leg and marched over to the woman before putting her hands on her hips and staring intently up into the woman's face while demanding, "And what do you think of my beautiful BROWN hair!" I was in shock but amused by her sudden demand for recognition of her worthiness.

When Diana went to Kindergarten Calypso was initially devastated to loose her beloved playmate for half the day. The first 2 days we dropped her sister at school Calypso wept as if in mourning. About a week into the school year she had an epiphany. She came to me very quietly and looked over her shoulder as she whispered in conspiratorial tones, "I'm going to go play with all the toys Diana never shares. Is that ok?" I whispered back with a sly grin, "Have a great time, sweetie." Off she bounded to happily enjoy the forbidden toys.

Calypso has had to follow after her sister all through school. Though she idolizes her sister she has also sought to forge her own identity which is not always easy with some teachers who expect her to be like her sister. Sometimes Calypso has chosen positive ways to distinguish herself, sometimes she has not.

Diana has been in Louisiana for 5 weeks doing hurricane recovery work with her father. Originally Calypso signed up to go for a week and half since there was a large team going for that period of time. She backed out though stating she had decided to go for a bad reason. She had only wanted to be like her sister. She decided maybe it was better to stay home and find a different way to develop. There has been a new confidence in her.

She has also enjoyed getting to watch all the movies and listen to all the music she likes which Diana mocks.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Meme-ification

Last week Suldog put up a post that was meant as an example of subjects upon which he could expound endlessly. Among his commentors there were two of us who actually responded with our options. I emailed my responses but today, for lack of a better meme or topic, I present the meme-ification of Suldog's questions.

Coke or Pepsi? ginger ale
7-Up or Sprite? lemon water
Kool-Aid or Hawaiian Punch? bug juice

McDonald's or Burger King? Domino's
Wendy's or White Castle? subway
Soyburgers or Tofu Dogs? venison

Ginger or Mary Ann? the professor
Wilma Flintstone or Betty Rubble? barney
Laverne DeFazio or Shirley Feeney? lenny
Marge Simpson or Jane Jetson? george jetson
Olive Oyl or Peggy Hill? popeye

George Reeves or Christoper Reeve? dean cain
Adam West or Michael Keaton? george clooney (excuse me, i need a private moment here)
Clayton Moore or Klinton Spilsbury? tonto

Playboy or Penthouse? playboy (because Shel Silverstein and Jean Shepard used to write for it, yeah I read it for the articles)
Gallery or Hustler? never even heard of gallery
Sports Illustrated or National Geographic? NG (the pendulous pygmy boobs make me feel better about the effects of gravity on me, although i did enjoy rick reilly)

New York Times or New York Post? are we talking about toilet paper usage here? if so, charmin
USA Today or Your Local Paper? again with the TP...angel soft.
National Enquirer or Weekly World News? long live bat boy

Krispy Kreme or Dunkin' Donuts? pffft....my grammy sold her own homemade donuts, there is no comparison here
Jell-O or Pudding? gimme some skiiiiiin
Ice Cream or Cake? carvel solved this dilemma i believe

Marijuana or Alcohol? booze
LSD or Peyote? i guess i will go with honoring the indigenous peoples
Heroin or Crack? plumbers?

Menthol Cigarettes or Non-Menthol? candy cigarettes
A Pipe or A Cigar? nothing associated with clinton please
Snuff or Chewing Tobacco? ack

Ivory or Dove? dr bronner's peppermint
Tidy Bowl or 2000 Flushes? lysol
Charmin or The Sears-Roebuck Catalogue? corn cobs

Alice Cooper or KISS? alice
Rush or The Guess Who? guess who
AC/DC or Black Sabbath? ac/dc
Deep Purple or Led Zep? Zep
The Who or The Rolling Stones? who
The Beatles or Chuck Berry? chuck
Jerry Lee Lewis or Little Richard? jerry

Baseball or Football? spare me the cheerleaders
Basketball or Hockey? puck you
Volleyball or Lacrosse? yes thanks

Protestant or Catholic? christian
Reform, Conservative, or Orthodox? still chosen
Atheist or Agnostic? unitarian
Big Bang or Creationism? who said god didn't start it all with a cosmic blast?
Evolution or Devolution? i think evidence is pretty clear we are all headed to hell in a handbasket

Slide, Swing, or See-Saw? swing

Wedgie or Cup Check? atomic wedgie

Married or Single? better to be single than wish you were
Monogamy or Polygamy? idealist or realist?
Gay or Straight? 90s or razors?
Straight or Curly? wild drugged out hippie hair as my children so sweetly describe my unruly mop. and i LIKE it that way.
Curly or Shemp? ok, here is where i beg of the rest of this set and plead ignorance. i was not allowed to watch the three stooges or lil rascals because as my mother put it, "they might put bad ideas in my head." i was, however, permitted to watch all the laugh-in and love american style i wanted. explains a lot about me doesn't it?
Shemp or Joe?
Joe or Curly Joe?

Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly? gene, oh yeah!
Ginger Rogers or Cyd Charrise? gene, oh yeah!


'62 Mets or '03 Tigers? '86 bo sox (ducks and runs. you know i think the world of you, Suldog, right?)

Superman or Spiderman? wonder woman
Batman or Captain America? batgirl
Dr. Doom or Lex Luthor? cat woman

Democrat or Republican? gagging
Conservative or Labour? shrugs
Capitalist or Socialist? greed is greed no matter how it is dressed
Anarchist or Statist? pfffft

Carnivore, Omnivore, or Vegetarian? chocolataraian
Vegetarian or Vegan? see above
Vegan or Starvation? see above

The Three Stooges or The Marx Brothers? let me slip out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini (wiggles eyebrows and flicks cigar)
Laurel & Hardy or Abbott & Costello? who's on first?
Martin & Lewis or Rowan & Martin? sock it to me!

The Munsters or The Addams Family? i can rock the cousin itt look
Bewitched or I Dream Of Jeannie? gotta rub me the right way
Wife Swap or A Kick In The Nuts? do i get to choose to whom i am swapped?

Underwear or Pajamas? birthday suit
Pajamas or Nude? sheets on skin
Both Of You Nude or One Nude & One With Pajamas? make it a double
Same Bed or Separate Beds? what is this 1950s tv?

Seat Up or Down? lid and seat down
Paper Hanging Over or Under? OVER, always OVER!

Boxers or Briefs? silk boxers
Baggies or A Speedo? baggies
Bloomers or Butt Floss? floss yer teeth not yer ass but i ain't a granny yet

Sock-Sock-Shoe-Shoe or Sock-Shoe-Sock-Shoe? birkenstock-birkenstock

Grecian Urn or Henway? about 5 lbs
And Don't Call Me Shirley or Take My Wife, Please? roger, over
Pie Fight or Genteel Social Satire Full of Clever Bons Mots? this is a dead parrot., and ex parrot, this parrot has expired, gone to meet its maker, joined the choir invisible...

Friday, July 25, 2008

Da Count-Little Treats

Friends of ours have a 22 year old son who builds sound systems. He has this crazy set-up in their living room that puts movie theaters to shame. The sub-woofers are bigger than I am. A couple days ago he invited Isaac and Calypso to come up with some of their friends. There was to be watching of action movies so the explosions could be felt as they were watched. There was to be post movie dancing. The kids were beyond thrilled. This young man lives in the middle of nowhere (good thing or the neighbors would be complaining of the noise) and said he'd drive everyone up to his folks' house.

The problem was his car didn't have space for all the kids and I had things I had to do so I couldn't go until later. So we agreed to swap cars. He took my minivan. I took his little manual Impreza. I can't say I was crushed to zip around the back mountain roads in something that handled nicely and had some actual pick-up. Did I mention he has a pretty fine sound system in his car too? Yeah, it broke my heart to have to listen to my tunes on that as well.

When I finally made it up to our friends' house for dinner the mom informed me she was making a double batch of homemade cinnamon rolls so I could take some home for the morning. During dinner we had Jeopardy on. According to house rules, we were all supposed to shout out the answer and the first one correct was expected to do an "in your face" victory dance while gloating. I did reasonably well, and then I blew them all away on Final Jeopardy, and let me tell ya, the dad gave me some very stiff competition until that point.

So to recap...

For one afternoon I got to trade the mom-mobile for a sleek little buggy with a killer sound system. I had the afternoon to myself while the kids were happily entertained. I didn't have to cook or clean up after dinner AND I was given homemade baked goods for the next day. Finally, my trivial prowess was celebrated rather than being seen as either a threat or a waste of brain space.

SWEET!

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Slice of Lime-Smile

Over the weekend I got an email from Snowelf. She has a tendency to associate a particular song with everyone she knows. She sent me the mp3 of the song she says is mine, Vitamin C's Smile. It made me grin ear to ear so I just had to share it. Life is a little crazy this week so I am using old pictures but I still hope they make you smile.

Alright...
Alright...

First of all

When you wake up in the evening and the day is shot
Find yourself complaining 'bout the thing you ain't got
Never crossed just the way that you wanted it to
Cliché of the day, cest la vie that's just

(Chorus):
Life, it ain't easy
It's so tough
It ain't easy
(Whatchu wanna do, say whatchu gonna do)
Put a smile on your face
Make the world a better place
Put a smile on your face
(Whatchu wanna do, say whatchu gonna do)
Put a smile on your face
Make the world a better place
Put a smile on your face
(Whatchu wanna do, say whatchu gonna do)

And another thing

You can say that I'm a dreamer and you think it's uncool
Preaching 'bout the better life I learned in school
But you get what you give in this life that we live
And all that you do come back to you

(Repeat Chorus)

Yo,
When things isn't right there's no need to fight
Come on be nice
No need to fight
Stay polite even when you're hurting don't forget to smile
Give love to (?)
When you do good you'll get your reward
United with undivided we fall
Put a smile on your face and greet one and all

(Repeat Chorus)


People love you when you smile
And hate you when it's through
Lots of happiness
We are wishing you
If you come from Jamaica or Honolulu, yeah
Keep a smile on your face
I'll see the good that you do

Smile (smile)
And everything will be fine..













Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Note to Self...

Even if you pre-assemble this craft so all the kids have to do is string the beads in...

Even if you gather together 6 extra volunteers to help the kids do the stringing...

Even if the schedule gives you 10 minutes more for arts & crafts time than you had before...

This craft should not be attempted with 29 five and six year olds because when you plot them out on a bell curve for manual dexterity, attention span, and frustration threshold you will have about 5 who can do this and 6 who declare they cannot before standing up from the table and leaving. The remainder will try but not have much fun and wind up all yanking your arms, legs, and tee shirt or poking you in the ribs or beating you on the back as they whine, "Mrs. Lime, 1)my string is tangled, 2)Jimmy's beads are all on the floor, 3)my plastic needle came off the string, 4)I want more pink beads instead of green beads 5)I don't like this and I want to go home." As you are calmly trying to sort out the various difficulties one of your adult helpers will become as demanding as the 5 year olds and you will snarl at her to PLEASE give you a moment to deal with the little people grabbing at you because for crying out loud she has had over 5 decades to learn how to take turns and wait patiently. When the 5 & 6 year olds trudge off with tangled messes 10 minutes late to their next activity you will be filled with mortal dread at having to repeat this particular brand of hell with 22 seven and eight year olds a few minutes.

You will come to realize in roughly a decade of doing arts & crafts for VBS week that this was your single worst idea for a project ever. You will remember fondly the trepidation you felt prior to letting the kids paint with dead fish or mess with 5 gallon buckets of tie dye chemicals. You will announce your need for a good stiff drink within earshot of the most temperate and sweetly pure pastor's wife. You will engage in self flagellation because you don't like any kids to go away from arts & crafts feeling frustrated.

However, at the end of the day one of last year's 8 year olds who has moved up to the older group this year will come find you sitting at your table feeling like today was a complete failure. She will say how coming to your arts & crafts time was her favorite part of VBS and she wishes she was still in the lower grade so she could come this year. Her eyes will sparkle as she speaks animatedly of tie dyeing and painting with dead fish. She will give you a hug and say you are the best craft lady ever. You will be very thankful for such a fond remembrance shared with you at that moment.

You will give her the sample you made of today's project...

Partly to say thanks for her kind words...

Partly to see the smile it puts on her face...

Partly because if you ever lay eyes on another one of these cursed projects it may kick in the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

The Doors

I actually took these pictures way back in the Spring. The local Arts Council sold some posters with a collage of doors on old Victorian houses in my neighborhood. I went wandering around town one day to find some of the doors and related architectural details they missed. I like old buildings because they tend to have such interesting details. It's also fun to imagine the countless stories of the people who have lived behind the doors and windows.

I like seeing the care in constructing a heavy, solid wood and adding the carving. Bonus shot, you can see my reflection.




Can you imagine anyone bothering to show such craftsmanship in a modern-made doorbell?




Ok, so I am weird, even peeling paint intrigues me.




I worked as a painter one summer. I can appreciate the prep work and bother of having to change colors so often and cut in so many times on trim work.



Yep, the doorknobs on the old Victorian doors are pretty cool too.




I love the teardrop shaped windows. And I have been through these doors. They are very tall and very heavy.




Details on things like cornices intrigue me.




This door is on the second story and there is no balcony to step on




I love the patina on this doorknob especially against the worn wood.




I loved the bold colors and the geometric shapes.

Again, the painting details done on a spot so difficult to reach...I gotta respect the painter who did that.



I love the personality in the old doors...




...and windows. These were recently restored after being damaged by arson.





The store owner was nice enough to let me capture her as she prepared to open. After I shot the picture she told me about some of the building history (built in 1908) and pointed out some other interesting details such as the inner doors that allow access to the storefront windows. How many owners swept that stoop and decorated those windows? How much inventory and how many shoppers have passed through those doors in the last century?

Monday, July 21, 2008

Kneejerking Lime

I stole this from APJ a long time ago. The idea is to write the first reaction you have to the prompt and don't change it. Consider yourself warned...

1. My 'ex' is still....probably suffering a bad case of Napoleon syndrome and mentally abusing whatever woman is unfortunate enough to be attached to him.
2. I am listening to...the AC.
3. Maybe I should... be productive, paint the kitchen, get a job, do a different post.
4. I love...to be held.
5. My best friend(s)... lives too damn far away.
6. I don't understand...quantum physics.
7. I've lost my respect for...my pastor. I'm tired of his lame excuses for the assinine crap that issues from his mouth.
8. I last ate...peanut butter cups.
9. The meaning of my display name is.... oh come on, haven't I explained this enough?
10. Love is....being accepted unconditionally.
11. Someday....my prints will come. Poor Snow White, someone should get her a digital camera so she doesn't have to wait for her film to be developed.
12. I will always...looooooooove yyyyoooooouuu--oooooooooooo. (When Diana was about 3 she used to wander around the house and sing this into a stick that was her microphone.)
13. Love seems to be...just out of my reach.
14. I never ever want to lose.... my marbles.
15. My mobile phone is....teensy.
16. When I woke up this morning....I wanted a warm body to roll into and cuddle with.
17. I get annoyed at/with....passive/aggressive bullshit and outright lies. How stupid do you really think I am? Ok, I get more than annoyed by it. It infuriates me.
18. Parties….are a pain in the butt to organize ahead of time, but great fun when spontaneous, much less pressure that way and they ususally turn out better.
19. My pets...died when I was 9.
20. Kisses...on my neck are paralyzingly delightful.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Friday55 & Da Count

FRIDAY 55

I've created order where there was chaos and I have basked in the lasting cleanliness.
I've saved money on groceries.
I haven't had any fights to break up for a whole week.
I've gotten texts saying "I love you and miss you."
I've hogged the middle of the bed.
Things could be a whole lot worse.

(You must click the link in the body of the Friday 55 to fully appreciate the before and after on the bedrooms. The corresponding messy bedrooms in that post are the first and last photos.)



DA COUNT


As you know, Mr. Lime and Diana are in Louisiana for 6 weeks. This week Calypso was at camp so for a whole week it is just Isaac and me. It's been strangely quiet and peaceful. It's been very strange indeed but being able to actually walk into my daughters' bedrooms and I mean walk with confidence, not tiptoe carefully around piles and piles of clothes, books, papers, and trash has been really nice. I've enjoyed being able to sprawl out in my bed. I have enjoyed the calm before the storm that will be next week (calypso hitting the roof when she sees I have cleaned her room, and preparing and executing enough craft projects for fifty 5-8 year olds for 5 days). Aaaahhhhh.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Slice of Lime-Turn Me On


Like a flower
Waiting to bloom
Like a lightbulb
In a dark room
I'm just sittin here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on

Like the desert waiting for the rain
Like a school kid waiting for the spring
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on

My poor heart
It's been so dark
Since you've been gone
After all your the one who turns me off
You're the only one who can turn me back on

My hi-fi's waiting for a new tune
My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
Turn me on



~Norah Jones~

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The Most Irreverent Lime

Back before we had children we attended a very small church. The Sunday evening service was a pretty casual affair. One Super Bowl Sunday the Pastor kept telling us to make sure we came back that evening for the Super Service. If he said it once he said it a dozen times. I took Mr. Lime's red Union Jack long underwear, slapped a big "S" on the front and fashioned a cape out of a blanket and went to the Super Service thusly attired. (Image from http://www.popartuk.com/g/l/lghr0230.jpg)


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


They asked me to teach 1st grade Sunday School for a year. I did. I thought the curriculum was boring. I stuck to whatever the story was but trashed the watered down lesson. There were some folks who were not highly amused by having the class sit ON the tables instead of AT the tables and making a lot of noise and jumping around. Well, see we were paddling Jonah's boat and there was this big storm and he fell overboard, ya know? Because storms are kind of scary and people get kind of panicked by them and it's fun to flick the lights on and off real fast and make lightning. And if you're going to make lightning you need thunder noises to go with it. And when you're drowning in the sea it's even scarier and you might scream and if some great fish..because it's a fish, not a whale, because there are these crazy fish over there that actually can swallow people, whales can't do that because they have this stuff called baleen that strains out everything except krill which is itty bitty...so anyway, if one of those crazy fish comes after you now how scary is THAT? I mean really! So anyway, now this fish swallows you whole and swims around and then barfs you up. And so well we all have to make barfing sounds now and then we really maybe do want to barf because we think about how Jonah might be bald and stinky from fish belly juices eating away his hair and stuff and that is pretty gross after all and ya know if some guy came to talk to you about your life and he was all bald and stinky from fish belly juice maybe he might kinda get your attention. First graders dig that sort of stuff. Their parents, not always so much.
(Image from http://www.adventjugend.ch/beide/galerie/Cartoons/Humorfromm_3/jonah.jpg)

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Holy Thursday at our church is marked with a very simple communion service after which all lights are extinguished. The congregation sits in the dark contemplating the betrayal and arrest of Christ on this solemn night and anyone who wants to may begin a hymn. After several had been sung a boy's voice was heard from the back as he sang the first few words to Christ the Lord Has Risen Today then hesitated and stopped before saying, "Oh poop. Never mind." At that point each one in our family looked at up and down the pew at the others to confirm that we really heard what we thought we heard and silently agreed to the scatological reference before great spasms of silent guffaws began to shake the pew violently while we all attempted to maintain composure. Hands were clapped over mouths, shoulders heaved, and eye contact was avoided. I began to pinch Isaac's thigh HARD when I heard the first snorts escaping from his tight lips. We all started to breathe more deeply and calmly and have some measure of hope in restoring decorum until we looked up and saw the youth pastor convulsing in front of us in his own silent stifled giggles. (Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/100gurus/2259812153/)


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


I was working in the church nursery with another lady and her college-aged daughter. Two toddlers, a boy and a girl, were "negotiating" over a mutually desired toy. The boy was sitting with a toy the girl wanted. The girl, who was standing, now stooped to try to take the toy and the boy pulled it from her reach. She straightened up and considered the situation before hiking her dress to reveal her thigh as her gaze caught the boy's eyes. I whispered to the other workers, "A little leg never hurts when you want to get your way."

The girl swayed a little when the boy's focus shifted back to the toy. He looked back up at her then she lifted her dress all the way up to her chin. As he sat there slack-jawed and drooling she snatched the toy away and ran to the other side of the room. I intoned, "Toddlers gone wild."
(Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/24674369@N06/2399337168/)


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


So once again I am in charge of VBS crafts next week. I always try to make at least one project to remind the kids of the different part of the world we learn about each year. If you recall, 2 years ago we had visitors from Papua New Guinea and I jokingly suggested penis gourds as a craft activity. Word got back to our guests and they presented me with my very own penis gourd to keep forever and ever. (I guess I have to work on acquiring the necessary appendage for said garment.) This year we will be learning about Brazil so I was thinking sequined pasties for Carnival might be a big hit. At least if our guests call my bluff and give me a set I can wear them for real!
(Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/istolethetv/121505999/)

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Poetic License

This is my fridge. It's covered in magnetic poetry. I got all those magnets years ago when I needed to get back into doing something creative. I figured since I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, in between stirring pots of food I could compose poetry on the fridge. The kids use it on occasion too. I started keeping a notebook next to the fridge so I could write down whatever was composed.




As you can see, there are great literary works composed here. I hasten to add, none of these are my works. Credit or blame goes to Isaac.




Sometimes, evidence of entering a new developmental stage is also left behind. I do believe Isaac has discovered girls!



This one, I don't even want to consider analyzing its message. It won't be added to the notebook. (Of course, I'll post it on the blog for all the world to see though.)

Monday, July 14, 2008

6 Word Memoirs- For When 55 Words Are 49 Too Many

It seems some people *coughSuldogcough* out there would have you believe writing a story in 55 words is just too darned many words. I mean if you don't have the attention span for 55 words of plot building, denouement, and resolution you really must have a bad case of ADHD. So anyway, these people are the type who want you to sum up your entire life in a mere six words even though the title for the post in which they tag you contains at least a dozen words. The post itself contains lengthy discussions about all sorts of things as well as numerous six words phrases.

When they tag you they will do do with a post title using the words "Oral Onanism" and later apologize for including your name an a phrase which suggests sucking one's own phallus. Allow me to assure him I am not offended by the linkage. In fact, if I possessed the required anatomy and enjoyed such a level of flexibility as to allow for that sort of activity I'd likely engage in it. However, I'd not be likely to do so in the middle of the living room during a dinner party like Mr. Lime's childhood pet used to. This leads me to the first potential six word memoir as I demonstrate my ability to match crude image for crude image with my tagger.

Masturbates more discreetly than a dog.

At this point I am compelled to point out to both Suldog and all of you that Onanism is a commonly accepted term for masturbation and that such interpretation of the term arose from a misinterpretation of Biblical text. In Genesis 38 it is recorded that Judah's wicked son Er was killed by God, leaving Er's wife childless. In those days there was a practice called Levirate marriage whereby the brother or closest male relative of a dead man was expected to take the widow and provide for her financially as well as impregnate her in order so the resulting offspring would carry on the name of the dead man and a son would provide for his mother in her old age. During sex with the widow Tamar, Onan engaged in coitus interuptus and was put to death by God for spilling his seed. Many have taken this to mean the waste of semen (which is then generalized to masturbation) is the sin for which Onan was killed. However, even conservative biblical interpreters have generally agreed that Onan's sin was his refusal to properly care for the widow by providing for both her present and future needs although he was happy to appear to have done so and have a roll in the hay with her. Passages in Leviticus 15 explain there is a ritual washing required after ejaculations and a period of uncleanness for both man and woman who touch semen but neither "spilling of seed" nor masturbation are prohibited anywhere in the Scriptures. Any of you still functioning under the former misinterpretation and attendant guilt can now feel relieved when you "relieve" yourselves. Bet you had no idea there'd be an exposition on Genesis when you came here today did you? Which leads to my second six word memoir proving I can expend many words on a topic which may bore several readers (something Suldog apologizes for frequently and needlessly, I might add, because he's really a funny guy).

Still pedantic after all these years.

Eventually Suldog got into the six word groove to such a degree that every phrase he spouted was in six words. Not sure I could keep up. (Oh wait, I just did it!...Hey, there I go once more!...Wow, who knew it was easy?...I never could have imagined...)


The meme has the following rules:

1 – Write the title to your own memoir using exactly six words.

2 – Post it on your blog.

3 – Link to the person who tagged you.

4 – Tag five other bloggers.

Here’s my take on the rules: (Notice I use 6 word phrases.)

Now I'm supposed to tag people.

I don't like to obligate folks.

I also hate following meme rules.

The rules bother me a lot.

Six word memoir has four rules.

Tells me to tag five people.

It's unbalanced and that bothers me.

Some folks say I am unbalanced.

So I will say only this.

You're free to masturbate or meme.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Friday 55 & Da Count-Enthusiastic Imagination

I'm a high fashion model strutting down the runway. Everyone wants to be me.



I'm a fairy princess here to grant your wishes with my magic wand.



I'm a scuba diving ocean explorer discovering a shark no one else has ever seen.


Some props, some costumes, and a bit of imagination is all it takes.


DA COUNT

The remaining Limelets and I were invited to a friend's house for dinner last night. We had a terrific time. These friends have 4 children under the age of 6. While dinner was being finished the wee ones took us on a tour of the house and showed us their favorite costumes and danced to some fun music. It's been a long while since my Limelets have spent much time playing dress-up but it was great fun to spend time watching the transformative imagination that young kids have so much of. We saw ballerinas, queens, elephants, and panthers right before our very eyes because all it takes is a fancy dress, a regal bearing, your arm as a trunk, or your fingers as claws to make you anything you want to be. So in addition to enjoying time spent with grown up friends I had a blast watching all the imagination too. I think I counted this once long ago but I'm counting it again anyway.

So tell me, what did you used to pretend when you were small? You already know I spent time as Tarzan and Mowgli but I'll also tell you I liked to pretend I was a nun too....a flying one, of course. (Thank you, Sally Field.)

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Slice of Lime-Black River

When I stepped into the river and waded out to my dad and stepmom they asked how the long drive was. I poured out the tale of automotive woe. They empathized then my stepmom said, "Well you're in the river now," as she smiled. I took a deep breath, sighed, and nodded as I realized I already felt better. In my mind I heard Amos Lee's Black River so that's this week's musical Slice of Lime. I didn't take any pictures of myself this time around so I'll just share the river shots and an old picture of my girls wading in.


Oh, Black River
Whoa, Black River
Gonna take my cares a way
Gonna take my cares a way
Gonna take my cares gonna carry my cares
Gonna take my cares away
Gonna take a my cares away
Gonna take a my cares gonna carry my cares

Oh, dear savior
Gonna take my cares away
Whoa, dear savior
Gonna take my cares gonna carry my cares
Gonna take my cares a way
Gonna take my cares away
Gonna take my cares away
Gonna take my cares gonna carry my cares

Whoa sweet whiskey lord
Oh, sweet whiskey, lord
Gonna take my cares gonna carry my cares
Gonna take my cares away
Your gone gonna take my cares a way
Gonna take my cares away
Gonna take my cares gonna carry my cares
Your gonna take my bottle, my bible, my mess
Gonna take my cares away

Gonna take all of that sadness inside of me
Your gonna take all of my empty and my loneliness
Gonna take it all and set me free

Oh, Black River
Gonna take my cares a way

~Amos Lee~

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Beachy Weirdness

As promised some pictures of weirdness, or at least oddness, from my time at the beach. first we have a weird place for a flower to be growing. I reckon if you can't afford gas for your truck, converting the gas tank to a flower pot isn't a bad idea.




Another odd thing was being called over one morning by the neighbor. "Hey, where are the boys? They gotta see something!" Can you see what it was? It's hanging off that stack of crab traps. Look closely. Yep, it's a big, freshly shed skin of a black snake.




Cool huh? You can see the eyes in the skin and everything. Ok, so I like snakes. Call me crazy.





Here we have Isaac up a tree displaying the length of said black snake. Pretty cool huh? We were all digging it. We didn't tell psycho mom about it though. We meant to bring it home but forgot it hanging o the coat rack on the front porch. Guess I'll have to make a trip down to retrieve it. Oh darn.





Finally, during my photography walk on the beach I came across what looked like the bleached out skull of a Triceratops with its horns broken off. Some people like to find shapes in the clouds. Me? I groove on pieces of driftwood. Yeah I'm weird. I admit it. But really, would you have me any other way?

Monday, July 07, 2008

Going to the Beach-The Good, the Bad, and the Psycho

Ok, as promised some stories. first of all I have to tell you what an ordeal it was to even leave my house. Back in June the transmission on my van died. After two weeks in the shop it came home with a rebuilt transmission. Less than 24 hours later it went right back to the mechanic because it was leaking tranny fluid. The morons mechanics failed to replace the pan gasket. Mr. Lime departed with his truck before I ever got my van back. When I was told my van was finally ready I found a ride to the mechanic's. Upon my arrival there was a mad scramble to locate my keys. They could not find my keys. Even after they tried damn near every key they had in the place even when I told them it was not MY key they were trying. Finally, as I stood there watching, it was determined they had left my key in the ignition...clicked "on." Ergo, my battery was completely dead. they jumped the thing and off I went with instructions to let them check the car again in a couple of days. For the next two days every time I tried to start the car it protested. when I took it back I mentioned this. They changed the battery terminal clamps. It started. The next morning, the morning I planned to leave for my much needed beach vacation, I went to my car turned the key and got NOTHING. I muttered curses against the mechanics and their forefathers before calling AAA to jump my battery. While waiting for AAA to arrive I called the mechanic and said, "Good morning, this is Michelle DeLime. I have paid you absurd amounts of money in the last two weeks to have cars that run but this morning I have a very dead battery. A battery I paid you to replace just two months ago, so it is still under warranty. Also, you and I both know it is your fault the battery is dead. I am waiting for AAA to come jump it, then I will be bringing it to you to replace the battery immediately BECAUSE I AM GOING ON VACATION TODAY." I got some song and dance about them possibly not having the correct battery in stock. I reminded them I drive a 2000 Caravan, not exactly a rare model, they will find me a proper battery NOW! AAA came and a very pleasant fellow got me going and wished me well. I drove off to the mechanic, handed him my key with a glare that said they damn well better not loose my key and they better not make me wait too long and said I'd just park my carcass right there while they sorted things out. Fifteen minutes later I drove off with a new battery. If they'd have given me one second of crap or so much as tried to suggest I owed them one cent more I was prepared to get in touch with my inner Attila the Hun. Honey, I was sooooo ready to hit the beach.

I returned home, packed the car and off we went only slightly delayed. I picked up Isaac's friend who would be accompanying us and dropped Calypso at my mother's (C had no interest in spending several days in a small cottage with 5 other people, 2 of whom were 12 year old boys). When we finally arrived at the river beach we all changed and headed right to the water where my folks were already floating in the water. I told them my tale of automotive hell and then felt the water rinse all the stress downstream into the bay. Aaaaahhhhh....a few more hours of floating and then reading on the beach followed by a dinner I didn't have to cook and copious amounts of wine and I felt like a brand new woman.

The next day was a real treat when I got to have lunch with the lovely Embee. Now she has a post up second guessing her hostessing abilities but I have to say I found her completely charming, warm, and open. We had a very leisurely and delicious lunch and I so enjoyed the opportunity to spend time with her and met her face to face. Embee, it was a real pleasure and I'd like to thank you. I'd love to get together with you again the next time I make an escape in your direction or if you find yourself in my neck of the woods.

Our "schedule" at the beach is totally laid back. Sleep late, eat breakfast and lunch in our jammies, head to the beach until we watch the sun dip below the horizon, come home, make dinner and bathe, play games, drink, and laugh our butts off with other family members who have their own cottage but come to visit after hours. I don't think we went to bed before 1 AM or rose before 10 AM the whole time. Often it was later on both ends. Bliss.

(When they weren't in the water this is what the boys did. Well, this or bury each other, or dig holes, or beg for ice cream. It's all good.)

July 4th night I earned some cool mom points when I pulled out a trash bag full of pyrotechnics and let the boys set them off for the assembled audience. Oh yeah, I had enough stuff to blow up for a couple of hours. Much fun. Happy audience. Happy boys. Happy mom. Sorry no pictures. I was busy making sure no one blew a finger off.

The psycho part of this total relaxation was Saturday morning when the mother of Isaac's friend popped in uninvited and unannounced. Mind you this was a FOUR HOUR DRIVE. The boys were still asleep. Heck, I had only just rolled my butt out of bed even though it was 10:30 AM. The woman expected the boy to call her three times a day and he obliged her. I was just barely cordial to her. Well, ok, maybe I didn't even attain that level of civility. My father, who would just as soon say "Fuck off" as "How do you do?," informed me if looks could kill I'd be charged with this woman's murder and that I was a bit rude. Admittedly he told me this with his own thinly veiled pride but still, I think the polarity of the earth must have temporarily reversed because he was far more polite than I ever considered being to this woman. She felt the need to stroll through the cottage and inspect everything before she sat on her son's bed and bounced gently while stroking his leg. When it became clear the boy was not going to wake up (and may I say the Academy Award goes to this kid for feigning unconsciousness and who could blame him) and I was not going to extend an invitation for her to stay (given there was exactly one sleeping space left, which would have been sharing my bed, and no floor space for even an air mattress, oh and given that she is a nutjob control freak who felt the need to drive 4 hours to check on her son who had called her thrice daily and who would be home the very next day while passing it off as if she just happened to be in the neighborhood...uh yeah, and I look like Heidi Klum when I put on a string bikini.) she finally departed after about 15 minutes. If you think I am being hard on her let me say when I rolled into the boy's driveway Sunday evening the father AND the college age sister ran out and the first words out of their mouths was a very contrite apology for being unable to prevent the Flight of the Lunatic.

Back to the river that afternoon after dad took us all (minus the nutjob) to a really nice restaurant for a lovely lunch. Tell the river all my frustrations and let them wash down to the bay. Aaaaaaaahhhhhh.....all better. Watch the sunset, devour a couple more books, take a nice stroll on the lovely beach, take some pictures, eat an easy dinner, play some games, and laugh, and let the libations flow...yeah, that's more like it.



Sunday was the only day the weather didn't cooperate to get to the beach since we had thunder storms but that was ok. It helped us feel less bummed about leaving. The rest of the time the weather was great and the water was perfect so I can't complain. I'm just anxious to go back...aaahhhh.....Have I mentioned how much I love going there and how relaxing it is and what a nice time we all had and how thankful I am to my stepmother for handing me my very own key to the place? Aaaaaahhh....



Tomorrow is Wednesday so you know that means something weird (good weird, not psycho weird) about the beach so tune in....

Vacation Brain

I'm back safe and sound. I'm still working on vacation "schedule," which is to say none at all. Google reader showed almost 400 posts on the blogs I have plugged into it. I have a pile of laundry and I should do a real blog post for all of you.

Um, yeah....I mentioned I am still on vacation schedule...and um...bad case of vacation brain....great time. Updates when I can manage to get my act together...but I'm not working too hard on that today yet.

Aaaahhhhh............

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Weird Patriotism & Some Beachy Stuff

This would not be the person I'd like to see performing the National Anthem.

Kazoo in the Hooha - video powered by Metacafe







What the Beach Test Says About You



You like people, but you're careful about who you get close to. Friendship is important to you... so important that you aren't just friends with anyone. (But you? You're VERY special.)



You fall in love with ease and confidence. Even if you've had bad experiences in the past, each new love is a reason to start completely over. (You make it sound like I have a long line of lovers.)



You are deeply passionate about several things in your life. You're not passionate about much... and the few passions you have are truly obsessions. (You say obsession like it's a bad thing. Doesn't everyone want to bathe in melted chocolate before they die?)



Your sense of humor is intellectual and obscure. Only really well educated people get your jokes. (I know my Cutter number and it's an inside joke with a dear friend. Yeah, that is seriously geeky.)








What Your Flip Flops Say About You



You are an outdoorsy person. You feel most comfortable in nature.

Beautiful scenery and good weather always brighten up your day. (Poster child for Seasonal Affective Disorder here.)



Being outside allows you to feel calm and connected to the world.

Problems don't seem so big when you realize how small you are in the scheme of things. (Ultimately we all wind up dead one way or another. There now, don't you feel better?)



Your ideal warm weather place: Costa Rica (Though I hear Belize is pretty nice too.)








You Are a Retro Bikini!



You prefer a bikini that's flirty and feminine, not flashy.

You look sweet and sexy - a rarity on the beach these days!

(I've never in my life appeared in public in a bikini. It's about the most unflattering look for myself I could imagine. Ten pounds of s*** stuffed into a 5 pound bag. No thanks. I'd sooner drop the pretense and just let it all hang out.)








You Should Spend Your Summer at the Beach



You're a free spirit who is always thinking of new ways to have fun.

And you don't just love summer... you live for it.

So, you really should blow off your responsibilities and head to the beach!
(Well, now who am I to argue with such a directive? Have fun all! Hold down the fort till I make it back on Monday!)