Terribly Shy

Dumb Phone

2011-12-26T12:13:00.011-06:00

Two days before Christmas:

JV: What kind of phone is that?
DH: It's an old LG.
JV: Is it a smart phone?
DH: Nope, it's a dumb-a** phone.

One day after Christmas:

DH: It's hard setting up my contacts.
TS: That's because this is your first iPhone. You'll never have to do it again.
DH: Siri, should I beat my wife?
Siri: I'll have to think about that.
TS: I'm going to Best Buy to get you a Zagg shield.
DH: I don't need a shield. Why would I need a shield?
TS: Depends on how many more times you're going to put coleslaw on your phone.
DH: I'm not sure a dumb-a** should be using a smart phone.
TS: Grandpa, don't say that.

Toothless Wonder

2011-12-18T17:47:00.011-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, we were shopping at a Christmas store and DH, who is the world's best at finding books and toys for the grands, spotted a little book for The Fred, age 7. It was a Junie B. Jones book called Toothless Wonder.

The Fred, who's somewhat toothless herself these days, read about half the book to me before dinner (seems like I was reading to her just a minute ago), and we both really enjoyed it. The author, Barbara Park, grew up in New Jersey but met her husband at the University of Alabama. If you have a Toothless Wonder, I highly recommend it!

Remembering Pearl Harbor

2011-12-06T21:54:00.008-06:00

As a young sailor, my dad was stationed at Pearl Harbor at the time of the attack on 7 December 1941, but family members always said that he wasn't on board ship at the time. Now I know why–maybe.

This week, Ancestry.com offered free searches of military records, and when I looked for my dad, I found records that seemed to confirm that he was assigned to the USS Sicard for the latter part of 1941. My uncle thought he was at the hospital, but I don't know if that's accurate.

Wikipedia says that the ship had entered the Pearl Harbor Navy Yard on 21 November 1941 and was under overhaul there when the Japanese attacked on 7 December. Personnel from the Sicard were dispatched to other ships to assist with returning fire on the attackers.

I guess I'll never have a complete picture of Daddy's involvement in that awful day, but I'm glad to find bits of information, and even the ship commander's report, online.

PC Matic People

2011-11-03T18:38:00.004-05:00

DH: I hate this commercial.
TS: Oh, the PC Matic People?
DH: It's just stupid.
TS: It's very annoying. Why did they name him Otto?
DH: He's a nerd and she's kinda snarky.
TS: I do not like these people. Where is she going for Girl's Night Out, anyway?
DH: They're us, basically.
TS: I do not like them. What?
DH: I'm fast-forwarding.
TS: You think I'm snarky? I don't even know what that means.

Hugh Jackman Live

2011-10-29T11:26:00.003-05:00

DH: Now, why did you record this Jimmy Fallon show?
TS: Because Hugh Jackman's on it. Let's watch it and then we can delete it.
Jimmy Fallon: You can see Hugh Jackman / Back on Broadway . . .
DH: We'll be there.
TS (reading): What?
DH: We'll be there those dates in December.
TS: WHAT? What theater? Do they have matinees?
DH: I'm sure you can Google it--
TS: OMG! It's a block from our hotel!
DH: Well, now, that won't leave us much time to goof around . . .
TS: Got 'em!! I'm going to see Hugh Jackman Live!!
DH: Hmmph.

Creepy People of Walmart

2011-10-25T16:46:00.006-05:00

It's not even Halloween yet, but there was a spooky dude at Walmart today. Sorry I didn't snap a photo, but, honestly, he was really normal-looking. That makes it even more spooky.

As I was headed past the Cracker Aisle, a man with an empty cart rolled up to me and asked, "What color nail polish do you have on your toes? Is it black or blue?" "Oh, I'd say Navy Blue," I responded helpfully. If he'd been a woman, I might have added that it was from a pricey bottle of Catherine H from the "Real Housewives of the Tudor Dynasty" collection, but that was TMI. "Purple?" he queried. "Navy Blue with a little Purple, I'd say." (This is the South. We're very polite.)

At that point, he said, "You are one good-lookin' woman." "Well, thank you, sir," I said with sincerity.

(I say "with sincerity" because, although I was completely surprised and 99% creeped out, there was 1% of gratitude in there, because no complete stranger has talked to me like that in about 30 years. And the last one was probably drunk.)

I decided I didn't need anything else from Walmart today, so I briskly rolled my cart in the opposite direction from which the man was traveling. I checked out in a "less than 20" line strategically located next to a couple of nice ladies in Corrections Department uniforms, thinking that they might be good company today.

The afternoon ended without further incident, but I have to wonder . . . who are the People of Walmart, and where do they come from? Really.

Too Much Chocolate

2011-09-19T14:21:00.005-05:00

I took the grands to school today, and there were only two things that went wrong. Well, three if you count my dream that I had a wreck in the school parking lot–but that was just a dream.

First, Little Man (who was really good today) said I put too much chocolate in his breakfast shake (I used exactly one packet). This from the 4-year-old who, by Pappy's account, dragged a stool into the kitchen, got down the chocolate powder and was discovered sitting at the table eating it with the scooper. And I still recall the time he conned me into putting double the requisite number of scoops in his chocolate milk. He's just so darned cute when he's misleading you like that.

Too much chocolate?? How is that even possible? It's a world turned upside down.

And, second, I wasn't sure of the proper first-grade etiquette (do they not want public displays of affection, or does that come later), and I accidentally let The Fred (she is so independent, and so helpful) enter her school sans hugs and kisses.

I'll fix that later.

Pigs in the Pokey

2011-07-07T22:27:00.005-05:00

How do you trap a four-legged fugitive? With a cage and some corn, apparently. This gang looks familiar, doesn't it?

Pigs Gone Wild

2011-07-03T10:16:00.026-05:00

Have you ever seen a wild pig?

Think you never will? Think again; they may soon be coming to a location near you...

On Friday, when we arrived at JV's and Dutch's house for our south Florida Fourth-of-July visit, Dutch took us on a little tour. While showing us around, she took us to us an area behind the house where pigs had been rooting.

Pigs had been rooting? Eh?

I was intrigued. We had already spotted a zebra grazing in a field nearby, so this trip was turning out to be more fun than Busch Gardens. And, here, we had the added suspense of not knowing: Would we see the zebra? Would we see the pigs? Would we see the woodpecker? These were serious questions.

I asked my in-laws, "Have YOU seen the pigs?" "No," they replied; apparently the critters came out at odd hours of the night. One neighbor reported seeing them at 4:30 in the morning. Well, I didn't want to get up that early, but I hoped the animals would be a little more accommodating so that we could get a glimpse.

That night, as DH was about to fall asleep, I turned off the light in the den. As I was walking toward the bedroom, I heard a noise outside.

It sounded like a pig!

I raced toward the sound, turned on the patio light and flung open the door, and there, just a few yards away, was a small herd of pigs, maybe 5 or 6 of them, rooting away in the dirt! My presence didn't affect them at all; they were just enjoying the buffet!

I ran in and shook DH, and he came to door and watched as I took photos. The trespassers didn't mind having their picture taken, and even though I was shooting at night with my Canon G11 digital, I was able to get some fairly decent shots.

I thought this might be a recent phenomenon, but it turns out that feral pigs were introduced to Florida by Hernando De Soto in 1539, and they've been spotted in all but 6 of these United States. (By the way, you should not approach them or the areas where they've been, because they can carry diseases.)

So, tonight, if you hear something like a squealing noise outside, check it out; you may have new neighbors!

Precision Body & Paint

2011-06-12T19:19:00.004-05:00

The other day, a new toy arrived in the mail (oohhh . . . new tools); it was a tanning airbrush kit from Paasch Airbrush Co. I was very excited to use it with my new jug of Ocean tanning solution.

DH: I'll change the pressure on the compressor–I don't want you doing it.
TS: So, you mean I've got to come get you to adjust the pressure every time I want to do this?
DH: You look downcast. Yes, and you're gonna have to come get me to spray you, anyway.
TS: I can't do it myself?
DH: Well, how are you going to spray your back, and the back of your legs?
TS: Well . . .
DH: Trust me; I'm a doctor. You ready?
TS: I've gotta put goop on my hands and feet. Here are the instructions for the airbrush.
DH: Don't need 'em.
TS: Oops--nevermind--this is the paperwork from Precision Body & Paint.

A few minutes later:

DH: I found a new trick; I just bled the pressure out of the compressor until it hit 20. There you go; that's looking good.
TS: Now, remember, the color doesn't really show up for a couple of hours.
DH: Oh, really?
TS: What was that noise? That sounded like a door.
DH: Oh, that's probably Two-Joke Limit.
TS: Two-Joke Limit's here? Why didn't you tell me he was coming??
DH: I forgot. What's the big deal?
TS: Sweetie, nobody wants to see Grandma in a bikini!!

(later)
TJL: How's the new tan?
TS: It's great! A little warmth, a little glow. Doesn't smell. Just what I wanted.
DH: Yeah, you don't look quite as pasty as you did.
TS: Nice work, sweetie.
DH: It's just like spraying furniture.

Not Listening Can Cost You

2011-06-12T15:54:00.000-05:00

The day after the accident, we had one of those conversations whose tone every husband and wife will recognize:

FRIDAY

TS: So, when are we going to pick up the rental car?
DH: Oh, I'm not going to fool with that today. We'll do it tomorrow.
TS: We're going tomorrow?
DH: Yeah.
TS: So they're open on Saturday?
DH: Oh, yeah!
TS: On the Memorial Day weekend?
DH: Oh, yeah.

SATURDAY

Pappy: There's something wrong with the Infiniti.
TS: Oh, no. He thought it was doing something weird yesterday.
Pappy: I can't get it to start.
TS: Ah. So we're down to zero cars now.
(later)
DH: The Enterprise near us isn't open today.
Mommadrool: Here--the one out near the airport is open; we'll take you.
TS: So glad you dropped by!

(still later; back from Enterprise)

TS: Not listening to me cost you $271.00.
DH: Huh??
TS: Well, that's not strictly true, but it was fun to say it.

The Tipover

2011-06-09T19:03:00.005-05:00

“Hey, sweetie,” said the voice at the other end of the line. “I was in a dumb little one-car accident, but I'm fine.”

I'm glad I heard his voice before I saw the accident scene. When I traveled the few blocks to pick him up, I rounded the bend and saw a paramedic truck, a couple of curious homeowners and an overturned black truck. DH was sitting in a police car, giving information to the officer on the scene.

I thought "Well, this doesn't look good," but then I noticed something else. All the paramedics were standing around laughing. That seemed like a positive sign.

How did this happen? Well, we hadn't had any rain for a few weeks, so when some showers finally came on the Thursday before Memorial Day, the roads got pretty slick. DH was making a turn, and the truck started to skid. Instead of turning into the skid, he turned in the opposite direction to try to avoid running into someone's yard. Unfortunately, that made things worse. The little Tacoma truck spun around and bumped into the curb, and that might have been the end of the story.

But it wasn't.

Upon hitting the curb, the top-heavy Toyota began, ever so slowly, to tip over. It landed on the driver's side, in the yard he'd been trying to avoid, and he came to rest on top of a broken window.

He had climbed out of the cab by the time the paramedics arrived. "Do you need an ambulance?" they asked him. "For a few scratches? H*ll, no! Do you know what those things cost? If I needed a doctor, I'd drive myself!"

Allstate called a couple of days later to ask about his so-called medical expenses. "He didn't even need a band-aid," I responded helpfully. Yesterday he returned their latest call. "Are you going to need any medical treatment?" "Nope. The scab just fell off," he replied.

The man at the body shop said, "That wasn't a rollover; it was a tipover."

Jubilee Pops Concert a Big Hit

2011-05-29T12:42:00.008-05:00

MSO's Jubilee Pops Concert entertained and educated us with a history of music-making in Alabama from 1819 to the present. Ed Bridges provided historical context while conductor Thomas Hinds and the orchestra played "Tuxedo Junction," "Hey, Good-Lookin,'" some selections from Showboat, and a medley of Alabama tunes ending with "My Home's in Alabama."

To the delight of the crowd–and with the help of some brave volunteers on one song–the talented Birmingham Sunlights performed. Patriotic music rounded out the fun evening.

The Parrot Who Played the Flute

2011-05-23T17:15:00.015-05:00

A few months after DH and I were married, we acquired a baby Yellow-Naped Amazon named Lolita.

We named the baby bird after her mother, whom we had met when offspring Lolita was still in her shell. The breeder took us to see Lolita (the mom), and we watched as she made her way to her nest, put her head into the opening, and yelled, "Hello! Hello!" "We'll take one of those," we said.

We (mainly DH) finished hand-feeding her, and she grew from a scruffy baby bird into a beautiful green parrot with a patch of bright yellow on the back of her neck.

Pappy, who was maybe 9 or 10 at the time, taught her her first word one weekend; every time he walked by her, he said, "hello," and in two days, she was repeating the word. From there, she learned to whisper "good morning" when I uncovered her and "bye-bye" when we waved at her. She called all of us by name, sometimes repeatedly. "Don't you bite your mom," and "Don't you bite your dad," she warned–always good advice.

For many years she did flute arpeggios, but in the last few years she had stopped playing the flute. When DH played, however, she loved to get really, really close to the flute and the sheet music, posturing and flashing her eyes.

She loved spaghetti and pizza, and watching the fish in our koi pond. "Someone to Watch Over Me" was one of her favorite songs, for some reason.

She fancied herself an opera singer, but we told her not to give up her day job. A major music fan, Lolita always entertained DH's wind quintet by tuning up with them, laughing, and trying to accompany their music a la Kiri te Kanawa.

I have a heartwarming memory of Little Man, age 4, standing next to her cage, repeating, "Hello!" . . . life going full circle, and all that.

We had Lolita for about 21 years, but we suddenly lost her a couple of weeks ago. There was no warning, and she spent her last few days enjoying all the things she usually did.

It's always hard to say goodbye to a beloved pet, and doubly so when the pet used to talk to you all day.

I like to think she's at the Rainbow Bridge now, making beautiful music with George Gershwin.

The Real Reason I Have a New Verizon iPhone

2011-02-15T20:35:00.005-06:00

The most exciting thing happened to me this evening . . . while sitting at a traffic light, I looked at my new iPhone, and it had a message for me: Missed Face Time–Mommadrool. "Missed Face Time!" I knew what that meant: Mommadrool had a new iPhone 4, and she was trying to connect on a video call! It was all I could do to keep from speeding home.

By the time I walked in the door and met DH in the kitchen, I had dialed up Mommadrool and Pappy, and the phone was ringing. Face Time!

The next thing we knew, Little Man and The Fred were beaming up at us in real time, looking as pretty as a portrait and grinning from ear to ear. We talked to them, "hugged" them, and, of course, DH made ridiculous and scary faces at them and had them howling and giggling.

There are few things in life that measure up to the expectations we had from our days of watching The Jetsons, but I have to tell you that this did not disappoint.
Really, I don't mean to sound like an Apple ad, but the darn thing just works! It has both a forward and backward camera, so you can switch the view at will.

(By the way, the Roomie would want me to mention that AT&T also sells the iPhone, and they have a wonderful, fast network!!)

"Hey, sweetie," I admitted, "this was the real reason I wanted an iPhone." "I know," he replied. "I know."

The Doughnut Hole

2011-01-13T18:22:00.006-06:00

I have a problem. I want to talk about a gap in coverage that's affecting, well, I don't know how many people like me. No, I'm not talking about Social Security–I'm talking about not being able to find Auburn National Championship apparel for 4-to-7-year-olds.

What's up with this? We grownups can find shirts which proclaim our school's invincibility in virtually any size and fit. Toddlers up to 4T are good to go, too–except that the "slim fit" 4T's I've located might fit an undernourished 2-year-old. But what to get for the rabid Tiger fan who turned 4 yesterday? Nada!

Yes, there are regular non-championship Auburn shirts out there. I realize he can't read yet, but that's beside the point. After waiting 53 years for our turn, we're ready to see the evidence plastered on every available surface, and there would be nothing sweeter this week than seeing that cutie-pie decorated in new Tiger togs.

Anybody have a solution for me?

In Hot Water for 2011

2011-01-04T08:37:00.005-06:00

A couple of weeks ago¬–months ago, whatever¬–when I went to take a shower in the master bathroom, I realized that we had no hot water. DH checked the heater and called Harry the Plumber; meanwhile, we started showering in the Shop Bathroom.

I gave HtP a key, and after he replaced the 2-year-old water heater, we had hot water.

For exactly 2 days.

HtP picked up the key again, and after he had a lengthy discussion with Rheem, the company okayed another new water heater. Negotiations about the mounting labor costs were ongoing.

Luckily, we had hot water while the fam was here for the holidays, but on Christmas Eve, as they were packing to go, the water turned ice cold. Once again, HtP called Rheem, who seem to be challenging AT&T for Worst Customer Service Ever, and reported back.

HtP: They wanted your address again, along with some other stuff. I reminded them that I was paying three people to stand around while I looked up all this information.
TS: So you gave them our address. And then what?
HtP: They had a whole list of useless information they wanted, so I just started making things up. I don’t think they’re going to pay me for the three guys standing around.

This morning, I gave HtP the key again, and this afternoon, I met him at the house.

HtP: I told them we need three new water heaters of a different brand—one that actually works. And I’ve been telling them how mad the customers are about not having hot water for their guests during the Christmas holiday.
TS: Good thing they don’t actually know us.
HtP: Yeah. Anyway, the other day they said they’d come out, but I talked to a different supervisor today, and she said they’re not coming.
TS: I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
HtP: And they're only paying for half the labor, because the heater's over a year old.
TS: Perfect. Are you gonna get another key made, or do you want me to do ti?
HtP: I’ll do it.

On a more positive note, Two-Joke-Limit surprised me today by fixing our annoying kitchen doorknob. I’ll be Googling “water heater” to see if anybody still makes one that works, and I have a nice new sawdust-friendly shower curtain in the Shop Bathroom. And we’re looking forward to a day, maybe in the spring, when we’ll have hot water again.

The Hills are Alive

2010-11-14T13:47:00.009-06:00

If, like me, you're a fan of The Sound of Music, you'll like it even more (if that's possible) in Blu-ray. The 45th anniversary edition (where did the time go? is available now at Target, and right now, you get 2 DVD's and the Blu-ray version for only $19.99!

Chilean Miner Channels Elvis

2010-11-05T15:57:00.008-05:00

Take a look at Edison Peña's appearance on the David Letterman show last night; he answers questions about being a miner, the most annoying miner, and dealing with sanitation issues–and belts out an impromptu Elvis tune.

The 12th rescued miner is in the big city to run the New York Marathon. He's also been invited to visit Graceland and see Cirque du Soleil's Viva Elvis show in Las Vegas. Enjoy!

Trust but Verify

2010-11-03T20:27:00.008-05:00

Tonight, I cooked a lightened-up version of Chicken Cacciatore. It was an Ellie Krieger recipe, and it looked yummy.

TS: Hey, sweetie, dinner's not going to be ready at 7:00 after all.
DH: Well, see, you tend to cook things that are complicated.
TS: I'm very trusting! When they say 5 minutes of prep time and 35 minutes of cooking time, I believe them.
DH: Reagan said "trust but verify."
TS: And I don't really like to read recipes beforehand. If it looks like two or three short paragraphs and it sounds tasty, I figure, "Great!" Oh, dadgum!
DH: What?
TS: I forgot to turn the heat down on the part where you simmer. This is what I hate about cooking¬–one misstep and the whole meal betrays you.
DH: It's okay¬–look. We'll just do this.
TS: 20 minutes of simmering time. This is the part where I get bored and wander off.
DH: Niles, we're gonna make your mama a short-order cook.
TS: That's what I need to do–flip burgers for a while. I was going to do salad, but I'm giving up.
DH: Too traumatized?
TS: Mm-hmm . . .

It WAS yummy, though.

Hand-Wringing

2010-10-23T16:02:00.003-05:00

If you follow Terribly Shy–and I can't for the life of me figure out why you would–you may have noticed a dearth of blogs lately. Specifically, I haven't blogged in 40 days!

I've had a couple of good reasons. The cat threw up on my homework. No–wait–that's the reason I didn't get that paperwork back to the CPA.

First of all, business has been booming. Also, being so blessed with work, I've been the proud recipient of a brand new repetitive stress disorder, and have had to let go of the blog.

Carpal tunnel syndrome and tendinitis are so last year, and I understand it's in fashion now for those of us of Scandinavian descent to develop something called Trigger Finger. Not interested in having a second breathtakingly painful steroid shot, I opted to have Dr. Bob, my orthopod, do surgery on the finger.

This is a pretty short procedure, so, when I called to schedule it, I was a bit nonplussed when they told me I couldn't eat anything after midnight.

We signed in promptly at 9:45, and then we began to wait. And wait. Now, those of you who know DH know that he does many, many things well–but waiting isn't one of them. I, on the other hand, can be pretty patient, as long as I have a good book.

And as long as I'm not hungry.

Finally, after an hour of listening to my stomach growl, along with lots of "comments" from DH, I got to go back into pre-op.

11:00:
TS: Thank the Lord--it's quiet in here.

11:30
TS: So, tell me, why do they use general anesthesia for this procedure?
Nurse: well, they don't have to. You can have that or you can have a wrist block.
TS: Eh? I can have a–
Nurse: Talk to your anesthesiologist when he comes in.
TS: I should have talked to him before watching DH eat breakfast this morning.

12:30
Nurse: (noticing me sitting there with head in hand) Are you okay?
TS: I've got a friggin' migraine and I haven't eaten since midnight!!

Well, we finally got out of there at 3:00 and ate lunch at a place I don't remember. But I've been grazing ever since.

Welcome to the Party of No

2010-09-13T20:33:00.011-05:00

Over the past eighteen months, various individuals have referred to the GOP as the Party of "No," and while it was meant as a slur, some of us have grown rather fond of the term. Considering the results of some of the Democrats' programs, "no" is beginning to sound like a badge of honor to me--I'm thinking of having some t-shirts, bumper stickers and buttons printed. Let's take a brief look at the facts.

Republicans voted:

No to the stimulus
No to London-style government health care
No to having bureaucrats in D.C. perusing your medical records
No to Keynesian economics

Okay, you've got us--it's true. We are the Party of No.

Won't you join us?

Can the Emmy Awards Show Win an Emmy?

2010-08-30T17:19:00.002-05:00

Easily the best Emmy opener on record . . . (PG: language)

The Artichoke Incident

2010-07-28T18:37:00.015-05:00

About twenty minutes before our outgoing Cello Fellow and his dad were due to arrive for dinner, I heard DH in the kitchen, going "Uh-oh." I don't like that sound. This particular "uh-oh" meant that there had been a sudden expulsion of artichoke remains from the garbage disposal.

DH: You know what I think I'm going to do?
TS: Go out to eat?
DH: No--get me a bucket.
TS: You don't remember the lettuce incident at our old house, do you?
DH: Nope. What happened?
TS: Pretty much the same thing as this, except with lettuce.
DH: Guess I didn't remember.

(Later . . . )

DH: Well, it's not a major catastrophe.
TS: Nope--it doesn't even look like one of those. And we should know.
DH: Oh, no--you know what? We may not be able to run the dishwasher.
TS: What would happen if we did?
DH: Well, you might get water spewing out into the kitchen in the middle of the cycle, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.
TS: That sounds familiar. Let's not do that.
DH: Do you want to call Harry the Plumber?
TS: Absolutely.
DH: Do you have his number?
TS: In my cell phone.

(Guests arrive . . . then we call the plumber)

Harry the Plumber: Hello?
TS: Hi! Haven't seen you in a couple of days . . .
HtP: I know.
TS: DH stuffed some artichoke parts down the disposal.
HtP: Ohhhh . . .
TS: He says we had a problem and he accelerated it.
HtP: How does it smell?
TS: Not bad at all--we've had worse.
HtP: It'll be in the morning.
TS: Thanks.

(Later, to Cello Fellow:)

TS: You know what happens when your PS3 people send you a software update?
CF: Nothing good?
TS: It freezes up.
CF: Have you done a reset?
TS: Turned it off twice. I'm gonna leave it off now.
CF: What did he say?
TS: Haven't told him yet. I think the time for that is after dinner.

(Later, during dinner:)

TS: Oh--you know what, sweetie? You know how they say bad luck comes in threes? Counting the refrigerator, we're there.
DH: The refrigerator, the sink, and what else?
TS: Oops. Well, we can save that for later. Anybody want ice cream?

What's Wrong with Show Tunes?

2010-07-26T17:49:00.015-05:00

This evening, DH and I were browsing a brochure for the upcoming season at the Davis Theatre for the Performing Arts when we suddenly burst into song together. Specifically, we were singing "Oklahoma." It seems that we both know most of the lyrics.

We've had this propensity to erupt into show tunes for many years, especially when driving. I imagine that our passengers felt like they were trapped with that couple in the car in The Sure Thing, although we didn't try to coerce them into singing along with us. We're MFEO.

Both of us have been involved in music since we were little kids--DH is a flutist and I was a church organist and glee club member, which helps to explain my serious addiction to Glee of late.

I have warm memories of traveling with a preteen Pappy in the back seat, and looking back on it, he was quite patient with our spontaneous off-off-Broadway productions when we were passing a cotton field (insert your favorite cotton-related song here) or traversing the bridge over the Suwannee River.

Now, to our delight, we have a whole new generation to irritate. Both Little Man and The Fred love music in general--but our robust vocalizations? Not so much. The Fred is pretty sweet and tolerant about it, but Little Man just shouts, "Grandpa--DON'T SING!!!" He is learning the words to some songs, however.

And, unfortunately, Grandpa pretends to know the words to lots and lots of songs.

The Soundtrack of My Life

2010-06-28T18:46:00.020-05:00

Hauling every single thing out of the home office, and then going through it piece by piece, has been just like moving (except for the fact that we didn't go anywhere, thank goodness).

By the time I had gotten most everything cleaned up and displayed in the new room, my efforts came to a halt--and there they stayed for the last few weeks. Finally, when I realized that friends who dropped by seemed surprised that the dining room wasn't completely clean yet, I had to push past the last few obstacles to a post-renovation dining room.

Most of the remaining clutter fell into two groups: (1) the results of a genealogy obsession that I indulged a few years ago and (2) a collection of LP's, some of which were even older than I had realized. It's almost as hard for me to throw away music as it is to toss out a book, so procrastination had reared its ugly head. Tackling the records seemed like a logical next step. A quick look at similar items on Ebay told me that I wasn't going to waste time trying to sell them there.

It had been my impression that the album collection was equally divided between DH's records and mine, but my careful perusal said otherwise. Nope--it was 99% mine. DH had Sergeant Peppers' Lonely Hearts Club Band, a flute album and some Boccherini Quintets. Conversely, my unusual stash included such classics as an interesting record by Rod McKuen and "SRO" by the Tijuana Brass. There was Heart, Judy Collins, Dan Fogelberg, Jackson Browne and some names I've already forgotten. They covered every genre--pop, rock, classical, a little country, and just plain strange. Some of the LP's dated back to my childhood--a rather unconventional childhood, at least in terms of my pre-adolescent musical taste. After a little nostalgia-fest, waltzing back through the memories associated with all of that old music, I decided it was time to let go.

DH had a little fun with me before I finally cut the cord.

TS: I threw out some LP's last night.
DH: Oh, did ya?
TS: Yep--I've had some of those records since I was a little kid. I tossed the 1812 Overture/Capriccio Italien 'cause I'd already downloaded it from iTunes. As for the others . . . it was time to let go of "Mr. Spock's Music from Outer Space."
DH: That was probably the one that was actually worth something.
TS: My childhood crush on Leonard Nimoy notwithstanding--I always liked the smart guys--that was possibly the worst album of all time. But it is still in the garbage can . . .
DH: Maybe you should go fish it out.
TS: Oh, stop enabling me! You know I'm a pack rat!
DH: Are you really? I don't think of you as being a pack rat.
TS: How many other people do you know who own "Let's Get Small" by Steve Martin?

The records remained in the trash, and my chi is flowing a little more freely now. I did hang on to Sgt. Pepper, though.

Next up: the family tree.

Dinner--Fresh from the Garden

2010-06-12T19:22:00.005-05:00

There are moments that justify all the work it takes to keep a vegetable garden growing, and tonight we experienced some of those. DH surprised me by selecting a recipe tailor-made for me--Garlic Basil Shrimp!

We harvested some of our tasty Sun Gold grape tomatoes and wonderful fresh basil for this dish, and DH said that it was very simple to prepare. It was light, delicious and beautiful enough for company. Throw in a yummy Athena cantaloupe or some cucumber salad, and you'll have a summer dinner that you'll want to share with friends. Enjoy!

The Gulf Beach Blog

2010-06-09T23:07:00.031-05:00

Those of us who live near the Gulf and who love its pristine beaches and fresh seafood are sad and frustrated right now. It's difficult to watch the oil disaster unfold and to know that you're completely powerless to help.

I took this photo during our visit to Destin in May 2009. Destin is one of my favorite places in the whole wide world--I don't know why. Maybe it's a combination of many fond memories and the sheer beauty of the aquamarine water. Give me a good book and plant me on that sugary white sand, and I'm a happy woman.

The Fred was the subject of one of my favorite memories from that trip. She was not a seasoned beachgoer at the time. When a rather chilly wave washed up over her little feet, she screamed and took off, running for her life from the apparent treachery of the ocean. Parents have to be quick, as it turns out. By the time Mommadrool caught up with The Fred, she was halfway to the beach road.

As for feeling powerless, although I've been researching charities and wildlife organizations on the Web, I haven't found an organization that is accepting donations solely for the Gulf coast; nor did I see any groups soliciting volunteers at this time.

About the only advice I can give to those who want to help is this: If you had previously scheduled a trip to the beach and are considering canceling, call your hotel first! Your destination may still be the unbelievably stunning place it was before the Deepwater Horizon explosion. Some vacation destinations are offering sizeable discounts. Seascape has posted a new Vacation Guarantee Reservation Policy, and it only takes a few seconds to check for updates on current beach conditions.

And if you haven't scheduled a trip to our gorgeous Gulf beaches, why not be spontaneous and plan one now? Be sure to take a good book with you.

Shelving this Project

2010-05-19T21:24:00.005-05:00

For the past six days, DH has been doing the finish work on the American black cherry shelving for the home office. Hood Ornament helped on nights two, five and six, in return for which we fed him dinner! The aid and assistance was welcome, as DH doesn't like this part of the project, and HO's participation cut the varnish time in half.

Things get really interesting when the two of them start to talk about politics, but they kept it light tonight and the last coat is done! Soon we'll be picking up the piles and piles of books that have littered the house since last summer, and I'll be decorating those gorgeous shelves.

A Simple Trellis

2010-05-15T20:46:00.022-05:00

When Pappy was about 19, he and a friend built two garden features for us--a big, beautiful koi pond with a pair of waterfalls, and a semicircular flower bed. We love to spend time reading and talking on our covered patio by the pond, often taking a staycation there. That place is good for the spirit.

Conversely, the flower bed has gone through some changes, but we never really sat down and designed the space. Years ago, a lady who spoke at our local Rose Society helped me dream up a plan for it, but things always got in the way, and I never followed through.

A few months ago, I decided this was the year to start, and I think part of the impetus was Pappy's son, Little Man.

DH and I have endured so many renovation projects that we can pretty much put up with anything, but as I've watched Little Man grow into the mature and discriminating three-year-old that he is today, I've come to realize that his standards are higher than ours. Not one more summer do I want to watch him playing in the pool while behind it is a weed patch just waiting for its next hit of RoundUp.

So, I purchased seven old garden roses--climbers--to begin phase one, the backdrop, of the flower bed. "All you have to do is drill some holes," I assured DH, as the vision developed in my mind.

Well, I thought that was all he'd have to do. And, after a design change, there were no holes to drill. There were, however, eight 4 x 4's and a bunch of metal stakes, and DH and a friend spent a few hours working and sweating yesterday to get the posts installed and make sure that everything was plumb and level.

DH took it pretty well. Even though he doesn't like to admit it, he loves me. I took some water to the guys mid-morning and asked the friend, "How long did it take for him to start cursing?" "Not long," he replied.

He's relaxing today, and I really appreciate all the effort. One day soon, the trellis will be covered with seven antique roses, and we'll start saving money on RoundUp!

The 'Knife in the Wall' Gang

2010-05-09T20:57:00.008-05:00

About ten years ago, DH moved his office into its current location, and he's been using the same cleaning service since we moved in. They cleaned the office four evenings each week, and they were cheap. (DH and I are selectively cheap.)

Anyway, we hit a couple of rough spots along the way. One evening, for example, DH needed to access the office computer from home. When we logged into the office server, we got a rude surprise--suddenly we found ourselves right in the middle of a porn site! I sent a rather terse message and then I closed out the page. Although DH spoke to the cleaning crew, we never found out for certain who was surfing on the X-rated sites.

We added a login password so we didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Every now and then, someone would notice that an item was missing. We had some rather serious shrinkage a few years back, and we started leaving notes like "Please don't steal this." But, again, they were cheap.

Two weeks ago, we went to our local giant warehouse store and replenished the office and kitchen supplies. Well, when you shop at the local giant warehouse, you get your items in gigantic packages that last you 6-8 months or so.

Within a couple of days, though, we noticed that our gigantic package of brightly colored plastic cups, along with a huge box of forks and a couple of other items, had disappeared. This was very disappointing for a couple of reasons, one of which was that the brightly colored cups had made us very happy. Just that day, I had chosen a lovely purple cup that complimented my outfit.

DH spoke to the cleaning crew, and they adamantly denied that they had used us as a sort of Sunday Dinner supplier for their church picnic.

The following day, we came in and found a knife stuck in one of our apples. In addition to that, there was a knife protruding from the wall in the kitchen. Well, we can put up with porn and theft and dust bunnies, but when you start attacking a poor, defenseless building, we draw the line.

I mean, cheap can only take you so far.

A Special Moment

2010-03-29T21:06:00.011-05:00

On Saturday, Pappy, Mommadrool, The Fred and StickiBun were here for a visit, and during the afternoon DH picked up his flute and started to play.

Presently, 3-year-old SBS went to the exercise room and collected my 2-part stepper that I use with my workouts (it doubles as a stool for the kids). He set up the stool next to his grandpa, and when Mommadrool and I looked into the kitchen, this was the scene. I wonder if StickiBun has any idea how cute this is?

Moving Day

2010-03-21T21:15:00.005-05:00

It was a nine-month labor of love. We knew it would be a long, slow process, but the worst is over. Today, we installed the computers in our new home office space. It's nice in there! (The room has fabulous acoustics, and I'm really enjoying my iTunes library.) We still have lots of work to do--baseboards, shelving, and cabinetry, for example--and by "we" I mean DH, mostly. Trying to restore the dining room will be my job.

But it's so wonderful to be in the new room!

Floored

2010-03-16T16:11:00.009-05:00

Of our little home office project, DH said that things would be changing rapidly now, and he was right. The painters are finishing up, the hardwood floor is just a few hours old, they're sealing the tile on Thursday, and on Friday we get electricians!

Lately we've enjoyed watching pedestrians stroll by and glance inside to check on our progress. You see, we're in a sort of fish bowl right now, since we have this big naked picture window displaying the goings-on in the kitchen.

Reagan and Lolita were living in the walk-in closet last week, and this morning I rolled them into the foyer. The cats are still comfortably appointed in the guest room. Occasionally they walk through the office and loudly meow their approval--or disapproval--we're not sure which. Frasier's had quite a few comments on the Tigerwood flooring today.

And I'm learning things, or at least making an effort to learn things. I visit with the various crews before going to work each day. Just this morning, for example, I heard a new term from Ted, one of the painters.

TS: My husband wanted me to remind you guys that there's another door out on the patio. It just needs one side painted.
Ted: Oh, well, we'll be dipping all the doors, so it'll get painted on both sides.
TS: (calling DH) They say they're going to dip the doors. What on earth will they be dipping them in?

When I got home, they were outside stripping the doors. I'm still trying to figure out if you dip them to strip them, or to paint them, or what. Perhaps a kind reader can enlighten me.

Ready to Paint / The Pantry's Bare

2010-03-02T21:30:00.007-06:00

I'm happy to report that the new home office is ready for its first coat of Lenox Tan paint! In his so-called spare time, DH has done all the woodwork in the room, with the exception of framing out the ceiling. Papa C, who had helped install the plywood on the "short walls," came over last weekend and provided valuable assistance with framing out the doors and trimming the underside of the doors to prepare them for the new tile flooring.

The home office itself will have Tigerwood flooring along with cherry cabinetry and shelving.

As often happens with home renovation projects, the office makeover spilled out into the kitchen, which is also getting a new coat of paint and new tile. Consequently, we have emptied the pantry and moved its contents to various other spaces in the house. I just hope we can find the peanut butter and the cereal.

TigerFit

2010-02-17T21:03:00.006-06:00

Yesterday, we showed up, hungry and sleepy, at 7:30 AM at Beard-Eaves Memorial Coliseum in Auburn for our TigerFit appointment. A pair of grad students met us at the door, parking pass in hand.

(Have I mentioned how much we love parking passes? DH actually took me to a football game once, and I'm convinced that it was the parking pass--and not the box seats--that lured him into taking me to the game.)

We had fun meeting and talking with the grad students and with Dr. Grandjean--they were great. Our physician, Dr. M, was there, too. I did my lung function tests before DH, and he said that when he saw me post-testing, he got a little worried about what was coming up for him. I don't have big lungs like he does, but I like to make good grades, so I tried really, really hard; DH said I kinda looked like I might pass out afterward.

DH is still glowing about his lung function, but I don't know why he was so pleasantly surprised. The man can stay underwater longer than anyone I've ever seen. He floats around forever face down, and the grandkids and I have long stopped worrying about whether he was drowning or not. It's ridiculous.

And now for my favorite part--after the blood work, we got bagels and juice; and, since one of the students was having a birthday, I got a piece of birthday cake, which is just about my favorite thing ever. Very generous of her.

Dr. M noted that I had a funny-looking ECG. I don't think that's the exact medical term, but I think I usually have a funny-looking one. DH decided that it was time to start getting phone numbers from other females, but I think his concerns about my pending demise are greatly exaggerated.

We got the body composition and bone density results immediately--all mine were good, even the bone density, which was a great improvement over my first test. We both got to Level Three on the treadmill, which was very good, and we'll be receiving a big fat report with exercise recommendations.
Speaking of exercise, I noticed this on the web site: "TigerFit provides these comprehensive tests for anyone interested in starting a safe and effective exercise program."

Maybe even for anyone who isn't. One of the grad students told me, "Your husband put "I HATE EXERCISE" on his form. "How would he know?" I replied. "Theoretically, he hates exercise?" Dr. M agreed: "He hates it in principle."

Quake Complicates Orphans' Plight

2010-01-18T18:01:00.001-06:00

Jonathan Hunt delivers some love to orphans in Haiti

Comfort Food: Baked Potato Soup

2010-01-14T17:22:00.017-06:00

Just after the holidays ended, DH got into one of his creative moods and found a new recipe for Baked Potato Soup. Now, I'm not usually much of a soup fan, but Aida on the Food Network had come up with this one, and it looked scrumptious. Also, I had been coughing for nearly two weeks, and soup was sounding pretty darned good at that point.

Sometimes you can tell early in the cooking process that a meal is going to be special, and this one did not disappoint. I gave it a 10 out of 10, and we've had it about three times since then, also feeding it to hungry friends at every opportunity. Everyone has loved it.

Read the comments at foodnetwork.com for ideas on altering the caloric content. If you add broccoli florets, don't go crazy with them.

Bon appétit!

Ingredients

4 ounces bacon, small dice
1 medium yellow onions, finely chopped
5 medium garlic cloves
1 medium russet potato, large dice
2 medium red potatoes, large dice
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 quart (8 cups) chicken stock
1 sourdough baguette, cut into1-inch pieces
1/2 cup shredded aged cheddar cheese
Sour cream, for garnish
3 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish

Directions

Heat bacon in a large pot over medium-high heat until crisp and fat is rendered, about 7 minutes. Remove bacon to a paper towel-lined plated with a slotted spoon and discard all but 1 tablespoon drippings.

Return pot to stove and add onions and garlic. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper and cook until golden, about 2 minutes. Add potato and stir to coat. Add vinegar and scrape up any browned bits. Add stock and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until potato is fork tender, about 20 minutes. Heat oven to 450 degrees F and arrange a rack in the upper third.

When soup is ready, ladle into 8- to 12-ounce ovensafe bowls and top with two baguette slices. Pile cheese and bacon on top and repeat to make 4 to 6 servings. Place on a baking sheet and place in oven until cheese is melty and browned, about 5 minutes.

Remove from oven, let cool slightly, top each bowl with a dollop sour cream and a sprinkling of green onions and serve.

Recipe courtesy Aida Mollenkamp
Show: Ask Aida

I'm Still So Stupid

2009-12-30T15:24:00.006-06:00

DH is assembling a couple of wood utility carts for the office, and he was complaining about a misstep in which he temporarily placed something backwards.

DH: Oh, stupid me.
TS: Don't say that, Grandpa.
DH: I'm so stupid.
TS: Sweetie, according to Every Word Has Power, when you say that, you're actually programming your unconscious mind to believe that you're stupid.
DH: No--actually, I'm very conscious of the fact that I'm stupid.
TS: Use a different phrasing, like "I could have done that better."
DH: OMG--I wish you'd quit reading these books. It's a bunch of claptrap.
TS: No, it's not! I think it's based on Jungian psychology. Ever heard of Jung?
DH: I used to BE . . . uh-oh--there I go again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
TS: If only you could approve of your selves . . . .

Where's My Profit?

2009-12-15T08:33:00.012-06:00

The Wall Street Journal headlined some good news today--Citi and Wells Fargo will become the last big banks to repay their TARP bailout funds to the government. Even better, the Treasury Department says that it expects "$19 billion in total profit from its infusions and other investments in financial institutions . . . " Whoa! The government invested my money and made a profit!

So, presumably, that profit will go back to the taxpayers and reduce the country's $12 trillion (or is it $13 trillion?) debt, right? Oh, wait--no--the WSJ adds that, unfortunately, the government is piling up big losses on its "investments" into AIG and the U.S. auto industry.

I can't wait to see how they "invest" my health care dollars.

Checking it Twice

2009-12-11T17:06:00.016-06:00

With the holidays well underway, we've been surrounded by scrumptious food for about two weeks now. I'm really glad I take a multivitamin, because I'm not sure you can actually get all your requisite nutrients from cake.

The other night, DH was sad because there was only one present under the Christmas tree, so we went out to remedy the situation. We passed the greater part of the evening finding all sorts of fun gifts for the grandkids.

Christmas shopping is one of those activities that tends to reveal our different personality types. See if you can determine who's predominantly Type C / Cautious and who skews Type-D / Dominant:

TS: (calling DH on cell phone) Hey--where are you?
DH: I'm in the back right corner of the store. I've got a basket full of stuff.
TS: (later) Wow--what is all that stuff?
DH: Well, look--I got two of these, and a couple of those--
TS: I picked out two coloring books. Oh, sweetie, this toy in your basket is for 12 years and up.
DH: Oh, I didn't see that.
TS: And this one's for ages 6 and up.
DH: Close enough. Our grandkids are advanced, anyway, aren't they?
TS: Wonder if anybody else has ever said that.
DH: Hey, look at this. Is this good for The Fred?
TS: OMG, it's perfect!! And it's pink!! But where's the--
DH: Don't even look for it.
TS: But I'm turning the box all around, and I still don't see a--
DH: We're done. Let's go.

A Bittersweet Chocolate Thanksgiving

2009-11-24T17:38:00.017-06:00

Our home office renovation project continues, and we're hopeful that we'll be able to see our dining room table in time for Christmas dinner. I'm happy to report that the Dyson is OKAY! We cleaned up the filter, and that breathed new life into it.

Now, finally--the fun part! Color Girl came by day before yesterday, and after I painted a few samples of various shades of deep brown, we selected a color palette of Lenox Tan, Putnam Ivory and Bittersweet Chocolate. It's a good thing StickiBun won't be here until tomorrow--he would be trying to eat this scrumptious-looking paint.

The chocolate color will frame DH's African Cherry veneer panels, and he's applying the first coat now, while I wait to see how my cornbread dressing is turning out.

Our friends Sweety and Mithu gave us a box of chocolates yesterday, so we're having a chocolate-themed celebration.

We hope you all are thankful for many things this week. We are thankful for the time we've been able to share with each of you this year, and we wish you a peaceful, fun and memorable Thanksgiving.

Sheetrock Dust Disaster

2009-11-15T11:25:00.009-06:00

Why did I even shower today?

Our home office has walls now--yes!! But it also has something else--sheetrock dust, which, if you're not familiar with it, is white and has the consistency of baby powder. No. Wait. It's finer than baby powder.

Robert cleaned around the edge of the floor with the ShopVac, and I am working on the rest of the room. First, I tried the Dyson, which we use to clean up after the kitties--it's not our primary vacuum, so I thought, let's give it a go.

Well, that may have been terminal for the Dyson. It worked somewhat, but after a while it started to make a choking sound and quit picking the stuff up.

Next, I attacked the floor with the Toro Ultra Blower Vac. It seems to be doing a good job, and I'm just praying that the fine dust is staying in the bag. Of course, emptying either of these vacuums is a challenge, because as soon as you open the bag, the fine dust flies out and mingles with the breeze. At that point, your instinct is just to duck.

What I'd really like to do is bring the pressure washer inside and just blast the whole house.

And I don't even want to talk about my kitchen, which is adjacent to the home office. I have wiped the counters twice, but I still feel like I'm walking on baby powder in there. And there's not much point in cleaning the kitchen floor until we can mop the office and the bathroom a few times, and we're not there yet.

It's going to be gorgeous when it's done, but right now, I'd really like to have a Fast Forward button.

Water on the Moon

2009-11-13T18:10:00.006-06:00

Heard on the radio today:

Host: Water on the moon . . . water on the moon . . . what are we supposed to think about this? And why should we care?

Caller: Well, finding water in a permanently shadowed lunar crater is actually very significant. The presence of water on the moon could help sustain lunar colonization. Water is a necessity, and it's very, very heavy, so transporting it up there is not a good option. If, however, there's water on the moon . . .

Host: Well, now, wait a minute. Water's not the only necessity. Let's say we've colonized the moon, and your local Lunar Costco, or your Tranquility Base Wal-Mart, runs out of Triscuits--

Caller: Well, you're not going to necessarily have a Wal-Mart on the moon.

Host: Well, if there are people there, don't you need a neighborhood grocery store?

Caller: Ah, maybe not. But if you have significant amounts of water there, you can plant and grow crops to help sustain life.

Host: You sound like you know what you're talking about. What do you do for a living?

Caller: I'm an aerospace engineer.

Host: Ah! A rocket scientist.

Sheetrock & Roll

2009-10-25T15:58:00.015-05:00

The home office renovation continues, and we've seen some real progress the past two weeks! Weekend before last, Papa C came over and helped with "skinning" the short walls with birch plywood. (Now, I can see bookshelves in my mind's eye, kinda sorta.)

Last Thursday, DH assisted 'Puter Dude with running computer power and network cables in the walls. We're trying to minimize the tangle of cords that one usually sees in such a habitat. Dear Husband had a couple of questions, but 'Puter Dude said, "I don't ask you questions about teeth, so don't ask me questions about Cat 5." He also mentioned that he may masquerade as Glenn Beck for Halloween.

Tonight we've been clamping an arched door together. (We needed a little more stress in our lives today. I'm in the other end of the house, so ideally, if one of the clamps falls off, I won't hear it clatter to the floor.)

It almost seems too good to be true, but the Sheetrock guys are coming on Friday!

The NanaCure

2009-10-23T16:55:00.017-05:00

The grands were in town for a bit, so we went out for sushi and fried rice.

(During lunch, I observed once again that sometimes StickiBun reminds me of his grandfather--for example, when he's eating soup and he picks out every single one of the carrot pieces and gives them to me.)

Anyway, after lunch we left the restaurant, and we were passing by the nail salon next door. DH, who I think is the author of Fun, asked if The Fred would like to have her nails painted.

The nail salon is a family business that Mommadrool used to visit when she lived here. They hadn't seen my DIL since she was preggers with The Fred! They were wonderful with the kids.

I got a manicure, too, or a NanaCure, as DH called it. StickiBun was very cute and well-behaved, although he did, unfortunately, find a water fountain in the back of the salon.

This was a real luxury for me. I don't get manicures, because I am not good at sitting still for extended periods of time. I did go through my acrylic period a number of years ago, but after that I did my own nails. Or I thought I did. Looking at my hands today, I'm not sure what I was doing, because they didn't look nearly this good.

The nice man who worked on The Fred's nails really did a little masterpiece . . . we thought she'd end up with pretty pink fingernails, but he painted a veritable floral arrangement on her fingertips. We took some photos afterward, while we were coloring at home.

Red October

2009-10-09T11:32:00.009-05:00

A few weeks ago, we bought lighting fixtures for the new home office, and among those were a few sconces and a chandelier. The coordinating lampshades for those came in black, white, or red.

Well, red is my default color, of course, but black would have been okay, too. We found a dealer in Atlanta who had the fixtures in their showroom with the white shades, but we knew we didn't want white. DH decided to order them online, in red. "Is it a nice red, sweetie? I mean, it's not lipstick red or anything, is it?" "Well," he replied, "it's kind of hard to tell online, but I think it's a darker red, like a crimson. It should be fine."

Did we mention that the shades are covered in velvet?

A few days later, the lighting fixtures arrived. "Oh, my!" I exclaimed as we pulled them out of the box. When friends dropped by later, they had a similar response, except that their eyes got really big, too. I'm not sure why.

Of course, shades are pretty easy to replace, but we think they'll be okay. Really, we do.

Happy National Punctuation Day!

2009-09-23T21:24:00.011-05:00

Just wanted to take a moment to observe what we believe should be a global observance--National Punctuation Day!

It's a bit embarrassing to admit that, had The Roomie not alerted me, I would have let this momentous occasion go by unnoticed. Fortunately, she brought it to my attention just in time for me to purchase my Punctuation Products and listen to the Punctuation Rap.

One of the most difficult things about being a lifelong punctuation stickler is the isolation. As Lynne Truss observes in "Eats, Shoots & Leaves," serving as the punctuation police can be a lonely, lonely job. As she puts it, "While we look in horror at a badly punctuated sign, the world carries on around us, blind to our plight. We are like the little boy in The Sixth Sense who can see dead people, except that we can see dead punctuation."

So take time out of your day to think about the lowly semicolon, and enjoy the festivities.

Up in Arms: TS Reviews Lagaan

2009-09-13T20:30:00.020-05:00

I love Bollywood movies--they have so much heart. I like getting a taste of another culture and rooting for the underdog. Subtitles don't bother me, and great costumes and music are always a plus. And, too, there's Aamir Khan.

We first learned of Aamir Khan from some new friends of ours from India. While discussing movies with them one day, we intimated that we were part of the "Slumdog Sucks" community. They agreed, although I don't think they used that particular phrasing.

We related how we had gone out and purchased the Slumdog Millionaires DVD with high post-Oscar expectations, only to find that after the first 10 or 15 minutes, we didn't want to see any more. Call me provincial, but watching an extended scene portraying the cruel, sick torture of a teenage boy is not the way to my heart. I just want it to stop. The film seems to be an interminable string of horribly disgusting scenes. "But it's really like that," exclaim some of my American friends. Really? "I'm not sure of that," say I, "but even if it is, I don't have to see it." Anyway, how does my watching such filth improve anything? If you have a cause, then don't just sit around in your comfy chair "raising awareness." Get off your b*tt--or your wallet--and do something about it.

Our friends from Tajikstan say that Slumdog was comparable to what you'd have if an American filmmaker found the poorest, most crime-ridden, disgusting place in the U.S. and filled up a couple of hours of horrifying footage. Of America, they could say, "But it's really like that!"

But, I digress. Anyway, Monsoon Wedding is much more to my taste.

When our new friends recommended a film called Lagaan, we bought it on the Internet, and it arrived shortly thereafter. Now, this movie is three hours long, and our attention spans are a little shorter than that, so we knew that this could be a weeks-long affair. Treating it like a mini-series, we settled in to watch it over several cozy evenings.

The plot was appealing, the characters intriguing, and the romantic triangle endearing. I think there was enough action to suit DH. But frankly, if you didn't care for any of that, ladies, you could just unwind the time gazing at Aamir Khan's arms. Just between you and me, I am planning to add to our collection partly for that reason.

If you haven't see any of them, I recommend that you try some of the best movies from India--you may find that you like them better than the Hollywood flicks.

The Beach Ball that Fell from Heaven

2009-09-08T17:20:00.014-05:00

SBS has been enamored of balls--softballs, basketballs, soccer balls, any kind of balls--since before he could talk. One of the first phrases I remember hearing him say was, "A ball!" At first, it sounded more like, "A baw!" He said it a lot.

It was a bit of a challenge to take him to a store like Toys R Us, or any other store that had figured out you could get a little kid's attention pretty quickly with a wall full of balls. "A baw! A baw!"

So I don't know why we took him to the beach without thinking to get him a beach ball. We had lots of sand toys which delighted him and The Fred, but no beach ball.

One of the days we were there, DH and Mommadrool had taken the little ones to the pool, and while they were playing in the shallow water, lo and behold, a beach ball sailed down from heaven and landed in the pool!

(Okay, so maybe it fell from the 23rd floor. We're not sure--it was way up there.) SBS claimed his prize, and he was the proud owner of a beach ball for the remainder of the trip.

The Beach Blog

2009-08-18T22:57:00.001-05:00

The Beach Blog

The day before we left for Destin, Mommadrool and Pappy announced that they would be driving the little truck to the beach (it only seats two people). This left us to enjoy the 4-hour drive with StickyBun and the Fred entertaining us from the back seat.

10:20 AM

(Constant chatter from the back seat; rattling of sealed bagged beach toys)
SBS: (happily babbling a string of words that only he understands)
TS: Is he talking about Neitzche?
DH: I don't know.
TS: I still think he's speaking Mandarin.
ATF: Nana?
SBS: Nana?
SBS: Need scissors. Need scissors. Need scissors.
TS: You want that toy out of there, don't you, bud?
SBS: Need seashells. Need seashells. Need seashells.
TF: I need a tissue!
TS: Are we there yet?
TF: Why do seashells have clams?
DH: I may need scissors before long.
TS: Or a sedative.
TF: Nana! You're Mr. Smee from Captain Hook. Then comes Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.
SBS: I blue. I blue. I blue.
SBS: I want you to open it. I want you to open it. I want you . . .
TF: I'll open it for you.
DH: There's a plane!
SBS: Plane! Right there!
DH: Wish we were taking a plane. The trip would take 30 minutes.
TF: Need a tissue!
DH: Here--hang onto that one--we'll run out if you get one every time you sneeze.
TF: Achoo!
DH: Need a tissue?
TS: Troublemaker.
DH: There's an F-16. If we had an F-16, we could get to the beach in 8 minutes.

Joe Cocker and the Wonder Loaf

2009-08-05T18:46:00.004-05:00

Okay, sometimes you just feel lazy . . . here's a LOL YouTube video shared by The Roomie, and it's especially fun for those of us who remember this insanity.

Around the World with Terribly Shy: Fargo, ND

2009-07-26T15:47:00.017-05:00

As our regular readers know, Terribly Shy is very concerned about your privacy. We neither know nor care who you are or why you're wasting perfectly good time here when you could be wasting time on Facebook.

Nonetheless, we do know in the aggregate where our readers hail from. For example, I can stay informed on how many people from Tasmania visited the site in May (none). However, you may be surprised at--or more likely indifferent to--all the cities around the world that yield visitors. (Even more astounding is the miniscule amount of time they spend when they are here--but no matter! We are selling absolutely nothing!)

So, this month, we begin a salute to the cities from whence comes our so-called traffic. First up: Fargo, North Dakota.

With a metro population of 195,000 (including West Fargo, North Dakota and Moorhead, Minnesota), Fargo is the largest city in North Dakota. My favorite thing about Fargo is the award-winning 1996 movie that bears its name, a "homespun murder story" from the Coen Brothers.

Money magazine has ranked the city among its favorites for livability in the 1990's and early 2000's, because it has a great economy and a low unemployment rate.

For culture, you can enjoy events at the The Fargo Theatre, a restored 1926 Art Deco movie house, or see a Broadway musical or a dance performance at the Fargodome.

Wikipedia says that, during the 1800's, Fargo had such lenient divorce laws that it was known as the "Divorce Capital of the Midwest." Really? Well, maybe what happens in Fargo . . . well, you know.

No Naked Birds

2009-07-17T22:36:00.006-05:00

On Thursday, I was late for work. I had phoned in with a really strange excuse.

This was the morning that the plumbers were coming, and they were bringing guys with jackhammers to destroy parts of the concrete foundation to move a couple of plumbing fixtures around in the bathroom. They arrived and began working shortly before I was to leave for the office.

Now, I knew it was going to be loud, but I have to say that the volume exceeded my expectations. I was about to take our two parrots from the den back to their cages in the birdroom when I realized that was a particularly bad idea.

The little room where we keep the birds has a common wall with the home office, and the entire room seemed to be jumping and roaring. Had I placed the little guys back in there, they wouldn't have had a feather left by the time I got home. Since we don't want naked parrots, I hauled the cages out to the foyer where there was minimal thundering going on.

Reagan was a little nervous, but Lolita was enjoying the vistas out the front windows and yelling, "Oh!! Hello!!"

All was well for the remainder of the day, and we still have two fully feathered friends.

Good Enough for Congress

2009-07-16T14:11:00.008-05:00

Finally, a good idea has emerged from Washington, D.C.

If they really want to convince us that this is a good health care plan, let's require our legislators to enjoy the same benefits as we do.

Congressman John Fleming of Louisiana has sponsored a bill that will allow our representatives to forgo their participation in the much-admired Federal Employees Health Benefits Program. Instead, those Congressmen who vote for the health care bill will be covered under the same health insurance as the masses.

This will go a long way toward persuading us, don't you think?

Everyone I Know

2009-07-12T20:26:00.005-05:00

I feel badly about not blogging much--really, I do. It just seems as if there's not much time to blog these days. There are a handful of reasons--one, it's summer; two, I've been blessed with work; and three, I'm on facebook.

(Recently, the Roomie and I had a discussion as to whether one should refer to it as Facebook or facebook; we often pass the time with scintillating debate about punctuation.)

A couple of friends had suggested that I join facebook, but I didn't know what all the excitement was about, and I didn't figure I should start a new time-intense activity. But when the Roomie joined and said she'd found some old friends there, I decided to check it out.

"OMG," I told DH. Everybody I know is on facebook!" Friends DH and I haven't seen in 10 or 12 years, old acquaintances spread out all over the planet, and my entire senior high school class--they're all there.

Facebook has been characterized as a young people's activity, but that may be changing. Apparently more people around my age are becoming attracted to it. I worry that my mere presence there may make it more uncool, but now that I'm hooked, we'll have to take that chance.

I asked DH, "Do you want me to sign you up for facebook, sweetie?" Predictably, he responded, "Nope." He's very content with letting me update him on where everyone is, what they're doing and saying, and why we're all happily wasting time on facebook.

Bird Overboard!

2009-07-04T14:02:00.007-05:00

Three days ago, I decided to go ahead and give the begonias a little water--heck, I thought maybe the baby birds might need a drink, too, although I was conflicted about that.

I took down the hanging pot and lightly sprinkled some water into it, but the babies were so still that I got a little worried. I sprinkled a little more water, putting a few drops directly onto the birds.

"DH," I said, "I'm worried about the babies. They're so still! Do you think they're okay?"

"They're probably just playing dead," he replied. "I'll touch them with a pencil eraser and make sure."

Feeling conflicted, I watched him gently touch one of the babies, when all of sudden it flew out of the nest and onto the patio! "Oh, no!" I cried. "Is he okay?" On the third try, DH managed to scoop up the fledgling and place it back into the nest.

Turns out that it was just a test drive. This afternoon, we watched one of the babies (probably the impetuous one from the other day) take its first, halting flight as proud Mom and Dad watched. Then another came out as his parents cheered him on.

There are two more babies to go. That nest was crowded!

Birds in the Begonias

2009-07-01T20:45:00.012-05:00

My poor hanging begonias have been suffering in the extreme heat of late. Yesterday, when I took the pots down to water the flowers, I noticed that there was something moving in one of them.

Babies! At least two baby birds were inhabiting a nest in the hanging planter. Later, we saw the mom arrive and hop inside the pot to feed the hungry hatchlings. Our presence just a few feet away on the patio doesn't seem to bother the little family. In fact, when I took the pot down to take their picture, the sleeping babies didn't even wake up. We're looking forward to watching them, and the tiny new koi in our nearby pond, grow.

Wrecking Crew

2009-06-26T13:34:00.009-05:00

DH: That was Grumpy on the phone.
TS: Oh, yeah? When does he think they can start working on the computer room?
DH: They're parking a dumpster in the driveway today, and they're going to start tearing up the room tomorrow.
TS: Oh, my--that's big news!
DH: Yeah, they had called early last week.
TS: Surprising.
DH: So, we've got to take everything out of the room today--desks, computers, bookshelves . . . oh, and I think I'll go ahead and let them demolish that bathroom, too.
TS: Mmm-hmm. What about all the stuff in the closet and the window seat?
DH: That's going, too. We'll move all the furniture and computer equipment to the dining room for now.
TS: Oh, that reminds me--are we having company for dinner?
DH: Uh, maybe we should just go out . . .

Splashing Through Monsoon Season

2009-06-03T20:37:00.008-05:00

Just about the time our gorgeous spring was melting into summer, it started to rain. And it rained, and it rained, and it rained. Now, mind you, I'm not complaining--I love it when God waters my roses and tomatoes! But it literally rained for weeks.

Meanwhile, with the advent of summer temps, Mommadrool took Sticki-Bun and The Fred to a splash park in their hometown, and it was a great hit with the kids. Then one day they came here for a quick visit, and Sticki-Bun, as is his wont, immediately went out to the patio. He's a big patio dude. We were still in the midst of monsoon season, and the rain was coming off the patio roof.

Sticki-Bun was so tickled--I believe he thought we were a splash park! He enjoyed that gentle rain splashing down on him as much as if we'd paid admission. I thought the photos were priceless.

He Looked Too Comfortable

2009-05-23T22:49:00.011-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had to report for federal jury duty. This being my first experience as a potential juror, I was pretty excited! I had no idea what to expect, but soon after we were seated in the jury assembly room, the court representative informed us that our panel would go to one of two courtrooms--one with two cases to try, and the other with a single case, and that they didn't expect us to be there for more than three or four days.

I kept wondering . . . "Will they strike me?" I had to wait to find out.

Fortunately, a friend had advised me to take along a book. I also had a snack in my purse. There was a fair amount of waiting around for the rest of the jurors to check in, but with a snack and a book, I'm pretty content. (There isn't nearly enough courtroom humor in the courtrooms these days.) Reading, snacking, reading, snacking . . . finally, we were escorted up to our courtroom. My group was assigned to the judge with only one case to try--yeah!

The judge informed us that this was a cocaine trafficking case, and he introduced the attorneys and the defendant, the latter looking so completely at ease that I thought if you had stuck a tie on him, he could have passed as one of the lawyers. "I get the feeling that he's been here before . . . a lot," I thought to myself, just after having sworn that I could be completely objective and unbiased. Well, shoot, being objective doesn't mean you can't read body language, does it?

While we sat through all the juror questions, I quietly chatted with a nice lady accountant seated next to me, and finally, the lawyers and the judge huddled at the front of the courtroom for a few minutes, and then they called out the names of the selected jurors, who then got to move up to the comfortable chairs in the front.

Well, they didn't select me nor my accountant friend, and they dismissed us a little before noon. We escaped out into the gorgeous spring weather, happy that we had (sorta) done our civic duty that day.

iPhone App by Smule: Ocarina [Zeldarian]

2009-05-12T20:24:00.001-05:00

iPhone application called Ocarina, by Smule, turns iPhone into a (sort of a) flute.

The Cat Carrier

2009-05-12T08:49:00.012-05:00

Recently, Little Man discovered that he could pick up a cat, all by himself, and was he ever proud! He was so proud, in fact, that he spent the better part of an hour carrying the surprisingly cooperative kitty, Niles, all around the house, with Nana in tow to make sure that no boys nor animals were harmed during this exercise.

Later, as I was thinking, "I wonder what would happen if he tried to pick up Frasier like that," he did, and Frasier, too, let himself be carted from room to room.

You can't beat Burmese cats for sweetness and fun.

The kitties are learning, to their delight, that Little Man and The Fred like to play with them. Niles likes the little boy, as you can see from the various contortions he let himself be plied into, and as soon as I can teach Little Man that the tail is not a handle (I'm still trying to teach Grandpa this, as well), all parties will be happy.

Big Bird on the Roof

2009-05-03T22:37:00.015-05:00

The other night, I ran into a neighbor who related that a mutual friend and neighbor of ours, Rooty-Tooty, along with her husband, Mr. Fix-it, had spotted a peacock on her roof. I replied, "And had she been having a cocktail?" "No," said JanenJim, "She insists she had not!"

I'll let our friend Rooty-Tooty tell the tale:

TS, now we both can claim feathered aviators resting atop our rooftops! Mine is about the size of yours, a tad smaller, legs not as long as your heron, and definitely not in search of fish food. Ours is a female peacock.

Two young men came walking up the driveway yesterday, one with a very large net in his hand, and asked if they could go through our backyard gate to look for a bird in the wooded area behind us. They had gotten a lead from someone in the neighborhood that a peacock was hanging around back there. (A neighbor had told us that a pheasant had been in our yard while we were at the lake.) He was about to give Mr. Fix-it a business card, when he turned around and spotted his prey on our garage roof.

Muffin the chow dog, our backyard boarder, had spotted her also. She barked and held Miss Peacock's attention while one of the young men went up on the roof with the net. The other young man on the ground whistled pleasant notes of distraction also. Ray and I just watched in amazement at the goings-on. The roof man tiptoed over the rooftop and trapped Miss Peacock with one slam of the net (he had obviously done this before). He carried her upside down by her feet, and when he released her from the net, you could appreciate the size of her.

Miss Peacock comes from a nearby neighborhood, where she lives in a large yard with donkeys, goats, etc. She had escaped from her pen a week ago, and she's been enjoying our neighborhood and her apparent freedom. Several people have seen her and thought she was a pheasant, because she has none of the beautiful colors of the male peacock. The two young men are caretakers/yardmen for the owners of this menagerie of animals.

I'm glad I have pictures to send you so you can see that it was not the martini's verbalizing a one up-manship on your Heron!

Feathered friends sticking together!

Well, Rooty-Tooty, I think we've both been outdone by Bill Rattray of Buckley, Washington:

Bill Rattray has a pet he never wanted. But it seems the pet has found an owner it wants.

"And I look out the window and it was an emu sitting in my backyard," said Rattray. "It's kind of the oddest thing to happen. I was thinking, 'They don't fly or nothing so how did it get in my backyard?'"

Rattray closed his yard gate and called animal control. But he was told animal control officers don't deal with emus.

Rattray is now trying to find out whether the bird had a previous owner. If so, he says, he'd love to reconnect the bird with its rightful owner.

"Obviously, if you're missing an emu, you're going to know it's missing," he said.

90% Chance of Absurdity

2009-04-13T22:00:00.004-05:00

We've had some pretty strong storms in the state lately (it's spring, after all--flowers blooming, sirens screaming), and Pappy called this evening to inquire about the weather. Last night's thunderstorms had knocked out their power, and although that had been restored, they didn't have their cable back on and wanted to know whether to expect Round 2 tonight.

Since AT&T is our ISP, we suffer from frequent Internet outages in tandem with the abysmal customer service, so I had to turn on the Weather Channel to get the info. TWC had a little more punch than it had the last time I visited.

Back in the day, you got a nice lady or gentleman standing next to a weather map, with occasional video of people in windbreakers being blown sideways. But on duty tonight were cute triathlete Mike Bettes and excitable former cheerleader Stephanie Abrams.

Stephanie used large sweeping motions with her arms to show how the winds rushed down out of the thunderstorms. She added, "It's helpful to know the name of the county you're in, as well as names of the counties surrounding yours, because if a storm is in a county near yours, it could be heading into your county next."

Hoo boy! Quick--how do I find out the name of my county (especially if my Internet connection isn't working)??

Mike was describing "gravity waves" and "wake lows" as we viewed images of fallen trees in the Atlanta area. "Wow!" exclaimed Stephanie. "I think you just got the ladies all hot using that terminology. . . not me, of course, because I know what they mean."

Later, the pair used a jump rope to illustrate how a "wake low" behaves, and they both kept a straight face. Then, and I am not making this up, an older meteorologist proceeded to jump rope.

I'm not quite sure what to make of all this personality in my TV weather, but at least now I know where to turn for help when a storm is brewing in an adjacent county whose name escapes me. And I hope Pappy and the fam are having a quiet evening.

Patio Vacuum and the ChickSaw

2009-04-04T12:28:00.019-05:00

Spring is unfolding in the Southeastern U.S., and the fine weather has beckoned us to get out and start preparing our vegetable and flower gardens. Making my gardening life easier this year are two electric gizmos which streamline some of these tasks--a blower/vacuum and a cute little chainsaw that DH has dubbed the ChickSaw.

The first one, the Toro Ultra Blower Vac, now known as the Toro Electric Ultra Blower, sat in its box for quite a while before we opened and assembled it. Once we did, however, I realized that we should have opened it much sooner. The blower comes with a bag attachment, so instead of just blowing leaves and other debris around, I can take that sucker outside and vacuum the garage! Don't even think about letting me loose in the woodworking shop! It's also great for a quick cleanup on the patio, e.g., to pick up the scattered remnants of a flower-planting spree.

Never did I think I would look forward to using a chainsaw--that just seemed like a tool that was better left to the boys. Well, no more! The Black and Decker Alligator can take out a little tree faster than you can say "I wish I'd never planted that!" It's electric, it's really fast, and it's sized perfectly for me, giving rise to its new name, the ChickSaw. I was outside operating the ChickSaw one day last week, zapping little tree trunks and hooting with delight. When I ventured in, DH said, "Sweetie, are you having fun out there?"

Indeed I am.

Teach a Blonde to Paint . . .

2009-03-25T19:52:00.015-05:00

DH: What are you doing?
TS (brush in hand): I'm about to paint this door. It's been ugly for years, and it's messin' with my chi. Every time I go through it I think, "I have got to paint this door."
DH: Well, you can't just paint it like that.
TS: Why not?
DH: You haven't done your prep work. That paint's all chipped and the door's a mess, and if you paint it like that, your fresh paint will just chip right off, too.
TS: Oh, no . . . so how do I do prep work?
DH: You have to take off all the loose paint chips and then sand the door.
TS: Oh, my. So we're talking about a half-day project instead of a one-hour project. Do I get to use the power sander?
DH: That could be arranged.

Much later . . .

TS: How am I doing?
DH: You paint like a girl.
TS: I AM a girl.

Still later . . .

TS: I'm finished! What do you think?
DH: Couldn't have done it better myself.
TS: WOW! I've never heard you say that! I'm so happy--even if it isn't quite true.
DH: But it IS true.

Remember: Give a blonde some paint, and she paints for a day. Teach a blonde to paint . . .

Springing Back to the Rose Garden

2009-03-20T14:35:00.017-05:00

How I love this time of year! We've had our windows open for three or four weeks straight, and I am a happy woman.

Spring started right after the snow left a few weeks ago--that was fun and unusual! As soon as it warmed up, I took the opportunity to get outside and do a little gardening.

I wasn't sure I remembered how to do a little gardening, though. The last couple of years, we've pretty much abandoned that activity in favor of other pastimes (the babies won't be little forever, after all). My poor rose garden looked so unloved. But this month I've already planted six new roses, cleaned up the weeds, done most of my pruning, and put out pine straw.

Pruning is easy to put off, but to my surprise, I even enjoyed that. It seems that being out in the fresh air when it's a gorgeous 72 degrees, dreaming about the beautiful, fragrant blooms in your future, is restorative and healing. All the noise in the world fades away, and you simply enjoy the meditative quiet.

I love everything about roses--their beauty, their fragrance, and even the way the petals feel to the touch. And I found some purportedly disease-resistant varieties that I hope will make the summer a little less taxing.

I still have three more new roses on the way, and these are coming all the way from a company called Palatine Roses in Canada (I caught them right at the end of their shipping season)! These three are among the newer varieties from German breeder Kordes. One is a climber called Aloha Hawaii--which is fun, since I was born in Honolulu-- and I've also selected a pair of roses named Caramel Fairy Tale to go in the pretty pots that Hood Ornament gave us.

Wish me luck! There will be plenty of photos.

Caution--Old Ladies Shopping

2009-03-09T22:33:00.012-05:00

DH was purchasing a pair of his favorite comfortable shoes at Zappos.com, and he asked, "Do you need anything?" "Uhhh . . . " I replied. "Oh," he said, "That's a foolish question, isn't it?"

Twenty minutes later, he called from the den to the computer room, "How many pairs of shoes are you ordering in there?" Actually, I only had two pair in the order, and I removed one of those, leaving only a fifty dollar purchase in the cart. It could have been worse!

Now, here's the thing. Steve Madden has a new line of shoes called Madden Girls. They're marketing these affordable, stylish shoes to young women. I think the idea is that you're supposed to wear them when you go out dancing. So, when I fell in love with this pair of peep-toes, I thought, "Well, this is like sneaking into Express when it's perfectly obvious that I'm too old to shop there. What am I doing buying shoes designed for young girls who like to party???"

I was in Ann Taylor Loft one day, along with two other customers who appeared to be about my age. I love the way their clothes fit me, and they're reasonably priced, but most of their spring collection seemed to consist of items with puffy little sleeves. I realize that Loft is targeting younger women, too, but haven't they noticed that we older ladies happen to shop there as well? It turned out that all three of us had been trying to find a simple white camisole in a size medium (there was only one left, and I was the lucky buyer). It was one of the few things in the store that didn't look like it was designed solely for twenty-year-olds.

Well, even though I'm breaking the rules, I think the Madden Girl shoes will be beautiful with jeans. Maybe one day the apparel people will figure out that older women like stylish bargains, too!

What Women Need

2009-02-27T09:05:00.017-06:00

At church last Sunday, DH and I heard the second of a three-part series called Cracking the Love Code. This series was designed to teach us how to love each other a little better, with a focus on marital relationships. Our teaching pastor, John Schmidt, teamed up with his wife Debbie, to offer a dual perspective on love. Her presence also made the sermon a lot more fun and entertaining, as you could clearly see that they were, yes, married. (Husbands and wives, you know what I'm talking about. Have the two of you ever tried to tell a story to friends, or elaborate on a point you wanted to make? Of course you have . . . )

One of the cool things we heard on the first Sunday was that each of us has a "love language," as described in Gary Chapman's book, The Five Love Languages, and we need to find out how the other person's language works. The particular action, for example, that demonstrates to me that my husband loves me, may be totally different from whatever communicates love to someone else. For some wives, planning dates, giving gifts, or doing chores around the house may communicate love. DH cooks dinner for me, and I think I'm one of the luckiest women on the planet. Today he went to run an errand, and he brought me back some decadent ice cream. Not everything he does involves calories, but hey, I'm a grazer and I love to nibble.

Similarly, I think it means a lot to him when I attend classical concerts in which he's performing. Of course, in the same way he enjoys cooking, being involved with his music is not hard, because I'm a music lover. Nonetheless, I know he loves having me there.

The second installment of Cracking the Love Code specifically addressed what women need in a relationship. The message was very practical and covered about 15 items that guys need to be concerned with. The final point was really fun--they had the men stand up and say these eight words: "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

Well, this experience stirred up all kinds of fun debate at the office. DH was practicing the eight words with his assistants all week. They were all so interested in the topic that I copied the bulletin insert and took it to work. I spotted one of the tooth fairies copying it to take it home to her husband--wonder how that went over.

I figure a message that spurs this much discussion is definitely doing something right.

Next up: What Men Need.

The Blonde vs. Big Bird

2009-02-26T22:12:00.008-06:00

Last weekend, a kind neighbor sent me an e-mail--she had spotted the Great Blue Heron near our house that morning!

Even though he'd been perched on somebody else's roof, I swung into action.

We had purchased one of those devices that includes a motion detector--when the offender comes within range, it blasts a spray of water in an adjustable semicircle. The heron is easily startled (trust me--any movement in a window will cause him to flee). However, when the package arrived, we were both suffering from the virus that had blanketed our home town. I had assembled it and parked it in the den. By the time we were feeling better, I believed that the heron's active hunting season was over.

So, upon receipt of the e-mail, I went outside and installed the water deterrent next to the pond. I had skimmed over the directions, but I didn't really know exactly how the thing worked or how you adjusted it. And I was about ready to leave for work, so I only had a few minutes, but, hey--how hard could it be? You attach a hose and stick it into the ground.

I used a pool skimmer to test it, but my efforts didn't set the thing off, so I moved in a little closer. After several tries, I decided to adjust the dial on the back, and as soon as I started to twist it--well, I think you can see where this is going. I am a natural blonde, after all.

It blasted me, not once, but three times! Honestly, it was like being in an episode of The Lucy Show, and the whole experience made me feel pretty stupid. (THAT'S never happened.)

Later that day, DH explained that only warm bodies would trip the detector. Even after the rocky start, I am excited about it. As much as I enjoy seeing the magnificent heron, I hope we have the fishies protected now. We hope so--if we have to escalate the war from here, I don't know what our next step would be!

Wii Unfit

2009-02-02T11:13:00.006-06:00

When we were visiting Statman in November, we played around with their Wii console, including the Wii Fit games, and after Christmas, I decided to order one for myself.

It came in about 10 days ago, and since I already had my Mii configured, I went straight to the assessment portion of the game, wherein it figures your weight and BMI, gives you a balance test and determines your "fitness age."

Well, I do a cardio workout with weights 2 or 3 times a week, and I'm at or below my ideal weight, so imagine my surprise when it told me that I was unbalanced and jokingly asked if I tripped over my own feet a lot. Then it announced that my fitness age was 4 years greater than my actual age! This was disappointing news!

Since I was coming down with an upper respiratory bug that's been zooming around town, I decided that perhaps I wasn't at my best that day.

DH and I both battled a nasty cough for a week. Yesterday, I was feeling a little better, and I got evaluated again and did some of the strength training, balance and aerobics exercises. This time, my fitness age was 13 years below my actual age! Wow--that's an improvement!

The Wii did tell me, though, that I'd gained .2 lbs. while I'd been sitting around coughing, and it still said that balance wasn't exactly my forté. Oh, well. With such humble beginnings, I have lots of room for upward movement.

The Arsenal Trio

2009-01-24T15:32:00.011-06:00

We are fortunate to have some good friends who are also very talented musicians, among them our friends in the Arsenal Trio. Ben Sung, Jihye Chang and Hrant Parsamian are scattered about the country, but we do get to see them from time to time, and we had a fun visit with them last week. They work very hard at their craft, and when they perform, they make it look easy, even though it isn't!

When the trio lived in our home town, we had a tradition of having lunch here at the house most Sundays. One of Hrant's favorite meals was "2 AM Ribs," so named because DH actually got up at 2:00 in the morning to put the ribs in the slow cooker.

We attended a recent concert in which they performed Schoenfield's Cafe Music (the coolest piece of music I've heard in a while) and Mendelssohn's Piano Trio No. 1 in D Minor. As I was watching them perform, I thought, how lucky we are to know them, and how lucky we are to get to see them perform every now and then.

Husband's Little Hobby

2009-01-23T21:40:00.005-06:00

DH has a couple of activities that occupy him during his free time. One is the playing the flute, and the other is woodworking. Often, after a day at the office, he disappears into his shop and creates beautiful things. We have a house full of exceptional furniture that he's built, and he made a round crib for the grandbaby that was really, really special.

I knew he was unusually talented when we met. He didn't have a dining room in his house--instead, he was building a harpsichord in what would otherwise have been a dining room.

For many years after we married, we didn't have a dining room . . . but all that has changed now. And the other day, after an eight-month labor of love, he completed the china cabinet, and we completed our dining room. Even though the photos don't do it justice, I thought I'd share a picture of the finished work.

I Ought to Buy a Piccolo

2009-01-20T17:01:00.006-06:00

DH: Every now and then I think I ought to buy a piccolo.
TS: Every now and then I think we ought to buy some land.
DH: Land?
TS: I'm looking for something that might actually go up in value.
DH: I'm looking for something useful.
TS: A piccolo?? You hate the piccolo.
DH: I know, but every now and then I think I need one.
TS: Why on earth would you need a piccolo?
DH: There's a piece on this concert that calls for three piccolos, but I can't play piccolo because I don't have one.
TS: That's because you hate them.
DH: I don't really hate the piccolo, I've just never had one.
TS: Lord, have mercy.
DH: Am I in denial?
TS: OMG.

Mailbox Murder

2009-01-17T21:56:00.010-06:00

Our house was built in the 1970's, and it and the other homes in the neighborhood had cast-iron posts holding black mailboxes, which I'm sure gave the subdivision an orderly, unified appearance. Over the decades, of course, many of these have been replaced, but we still had the original in front of our house.

It's had a couple of rough times since we moved here in 1994. In 1995, Hurricane Opal slammed it to the ground, but DH was able to repair it, and so it lived on. Then, it seems to me, some years later a vandal bashed it with a baseball bat, or so we assume, causing a minor amount of damage.

But then, on the weekend of January 11, 2009, while DH happened to be awake for a few minutes in the middle of the night (you know the phrase, "Nothing good happens at 2 AM"), he heard some screeching tires followed by a crash/thump, and looked out to see the streaking lights of an automobile racing away. "Oh, no," he thought, "I hope they didn't just take out our mailbox. Well, they did. It was dead.

Initially, we thought that this was another case of vandalism, but a close inspection revealed otherwise. A neighbor helpfully pointed out the tire tracks that swerved over our front curb and back out again, suggesting that the driver was either asleep or hopelessly intoxicated, and by the time s/he realized that a mailbox had swerved into his path, was unable to avoid a collision.

I'm not sure what this says about me, but I felt a little better after seeing those tire tracks. Considering the damage that must have been done to the perp's car, I am happy to know that at least the mailbox got in a swing this time.

Christmas Recap

2009-01-12T17:04:00.007-06:00

Time has been flying away from us--here we are in mid-January already! I've really missed the blog, but had a great holiday season. We had both fun family Christmas times and quiet New Year times, so it was a perfect mix. DH played his flute at lots of churches, and we went to visit a local community center with a couple of musician friends, where the group played holiday and classical music for a big group of Seasoned Citizens while StickyBun and the Fred danced around.

Speaking of the munchkins, Santa brought them both some nice rides, and if you click on the link in the last paragraph of this blog, you can see them "driving." ("Just don't let them onto Highway 80, Grandpa.")

Santa brought us some very nice things, also, including a sushi-making kit and a rice cooker/vegetable steamer. DH thinks the steamer looks funny when you look at it in the right light.

DH: Don't you think it looks like he's sticking his tongue out at you?
TS: I think you're very insecure.

Anyway, we're awfully thankful to be able to spend time visiting with the fam, and I hope you all enjoyed warm and memorable holidays, too. To see some brief video clips and a few of our favorite photos, visit my Smugmug Christmas 2008 gallery; I hope to have a second little video posted in the next day or two.

The Ruby Slippers

2008-12-21T18:16:00.022-06:00

DH and I enjoyed viewing The Wizard of Oz on TNT last night, and it brought back childhood memories of seeing the film and of reading some magical children's books.

L. Frank Baum, who wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, was a prolific writer who penned 13 sequels to the original book. He authored 55 novels in total, along with all of his other writings. As a child, I read many of his books, and I still remember thinking what a treasure they were.

Perhaps the movie, and my fond memories of those books, were the reason I fell in love with the shoes.

I spotted them in a store right after our beach trip was canceled due to a hurricane. They were a wonder--they looked like Dorothy's ruby slippers, and I knew they were coming home with me. When I showed them to my female friends who were visiting for dinner one night, they all sighed "Ohhhh!" in unison. It's not a rational thing, I know, but there you are. It's a woman thing.

My daughter-in-law oohed and aahed too. When I said, "I want to wear them to the symphony, but I'm not sure they're comfortable enough to wear that long," she replied, "That's okay." "You can always take another pair in your bag in case you need to slip the ruby slippers off." "What a great solution!" I responded. Mommadrool is a wise woman.

I wore them to the concert--I felt like they might be magical. At the very least, they made me feel magical. As I awaited DH after the concert ended, I sat down in the emptying hall and changed into my other, more comfy pumps. "I know what you're going through," said a couple of older ladies nearby.

But I don't care. If I never wear them again, I'm still delirious to have them. I think they're a work of art, and just looking at them makes me happy.

It's a woman thing.

Premium Tomatoes

2008-12-12T22:06:00.004-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I awoke and meandered to the kitchen to get my coffee. DH had already gone, but not without leaving me a message of sorts. In the kitchen I spotted a sticky note with an arrow on it. It pointed to another sticky note, and another . . . and they all led to our Aerogarden.

We had been faithfully feeding, watering, and jiggling (pollinating) it, figuring we might be wasting our time. But the arrows pointed me toward--was it--could it be--yes! Our $200 investment had yielded a tiny Early Girl tomato!! That was quite a sight to wake up to, an actual Early Girl growing in our kitchen.

And as I finally get around to blogging about it, the little fruit has doubled in size since we captured it digitally. I really hope we get at least one more. This cost per tomato is ridiculous.

Thanksgiving with Statman

2008-12-03T22:25:00.024-06:00

This year, we enjoyed a two-part Thanksgiving holiday that began with a quick visit to see the kids and grandkids. The little ones are at the age where they’re really, really happy to see us--almost as happy as we are to see them; they do a lot of jumping up and down when we’re around.

After that, we traveled to Houston for a visit with DH's oldest brother, Statman, and his wonderful wife, ESL. We made a couple of Christmas shopping excursions into The Village, a very cool area near Rice University.

We loved visiting the Byzantine Fresco Chapel Museum adjacent to the University of St. Thomas and learning about how the 13th-century fresco had been stolen from a Cyprus chapel in the 1980’s. The thieves cut the work into 38 pieces, preparing to sell the fragments on the black market, but the Menil Foundation purchased the fresco and directed its reassembly and restoration.

Then we walked to the Rothko Chapel, a block away, to contemplate the work of abstract expressionist Mark Rothko. After about three minutes of quiet meditation, DH announced, "That's enough contemplation," and away we went.

On a less artistic note, I had some fabulous Huevos Rancheros at Ninfa's and got some Goode’s Original BBQ Sauce to take home with me!

On turkey day, DH and I were surrounded by mathematicians. Actually, DH was a math major, too, but for a word geek like myself, this was an interesting crowd. I can only hope that some of that intelligence is contagious. After dinner, we fought off the turkey coma with a spirited game of croquet.

A few years ago, Statman had sent us a copy of a textbook he’d authored, and we’re still trying to decipher it.

I also enjoyed taking a brief look at Hilzabeth’s thesis, which caused me to wonder if there was a complete “other” English vocabulary that I'd somehow missed.

The day before we left, I went upstairs to print out our boarding passes and found a paper in the HP called "Local-Moment Nonparametric Density Estimation of Pre-Binned Data." (Wish I'd had time to read it, but I was too busy playing with the Wii game downstairs.)

Many thanks to Statman and ESL for the great visit. It was a terrific place to pause and count all of our blessings.

The $200 Indoor Tomato

2008-11-14T19:07:00.006-06:00

We didn’t get frustrated enough by our summertime tomato extravaganza, AKA Tomato Murder, so a few weeks ago, we became inspired to try growing full-sized tomatoes in the house.

How does one accomplish this, you may ask? Well, we’re not completely sure yet. That is, we are growing the plants, but how to pollinate them remains a mystery.

BTW, does anyone know why it’s pollinate and not pollenate? What is the point of that arbitrary change in spelling from pollen to pollin?? If I ever had to learn English as a second language, I’d be very perplexed.

So, how are we going to pollinate them? We’ll figure that out when we read the remainder of the directions.

Here is a photo of our Super Duper Deluxe AeroGarden. We planted seven Early Girl seeds and selected the two best plants, which was difficult--nearly painful--as they were all thriving to the point that we felt really guilty about tossing five of them.

As you can see, these two are racing toward the ceiling—I figure they grow about three inches a day. Every time the Boy Dentist (that’s what The Fred called him once) moves the light up, the plants seem to hit it within 24 hours. I’m getting worried that our ceiling isn’t high enough.

We will keep you posted on the progress of the $200 Indoor Tomato. I’m hoping that by the time the fam arrives for Christmas, we’ll have some nice, juicy veggies on the vine. But as DH says, “We don’t have a tomato yet, so they may just end up being $200 tomato plants.”

Colonel Panic

2008-11-09T21:52:00.003-06:00

It was the day before I was to complete my 3-day certification process so that I could get some letters behind my name, when something unexpected occurred.

Maybe I shouldn’t call it unexpected, because it had happened twice before. After a couple or three hours of work on one of the documents I needed to submit via UPS the following day, my iMac decided to lock up. There I was, right in the middle of my Adobe InDesign project, when everything just froze.

I didn’t cry, and I didn’t scream. I think I was numb. Long ago, I had accepted the fact that I was the one with the iMac that didn’t work.

I had saved my document on the hard drive and the jump drive—but with the computer frozen, even after powering it off and back on, how did I get the jump drive out without possibly destroying data? (You Mac users know what I’m talking about.)

I called my friendly compadrés at Apple Care. “You have a kernel panic,” noted the nice man with the Indian accent. “A Colonel Panic?” I responded. “Yes, a kernel panic.”

Well, this raised all sorts of questions in my mind. Was a Colonel Panic better or worse than the General Melee which was about to occur? The Boy Dentist wanted to know if the Colonel could give orders to Sergeant Chaos and Private I-Don’t-Give-a-D**n. And if Apple didn’t want to give me a new hard drive, would I have to appeal to the Joint Chiefs of Hysteria??

My friend from New Delhi agreed that it was time to haul the iMac into a service center and replace the hard drive. My immediate question, however, was, “Give it to me straight—can I get the jump drive out with my files intact?”

He advised me to do what I would have done without him—power the computer down and take out the jump drive. Hands shaking, I took it over to The Boy Dentists’s PC, plugged it in and opened Adobe InDesign. Michael Dell would be proud—on the Dell Dimension that we’ve had for 5 years with no problems, ever, the file opened, intact.

Gator Head

2008-10-29T20:34:00.016-05:00

It's great to be back on the blog! My business has been thriving the last few months, which is wonderful, but that means that I've been more or less connected to my Macbook 7 days a week, and my left index finger and my right thumb started to complain a couple of weeks ago. As I chose my keyboarding carefully, the blog had to go for a while, but I am blessed with work!

When we last left the koi pond, a large bird was threatening the fish population. A new casualty turned up almost every day for a week, culminating in the discovery of one of our 9-year-old koi floating one morning. We had not yet run out of ideas to combat the great blue heron, however, and our latest weapon in the arsenal was on its way.

Last weekend, when we were in the midst of a visit with Pappy, Mommadrool, The Fred and StickiBunScotti, a box arrived at our front door. As DH and I played with the kids and Mommadrool showed us Zoo Boo photos, Pappy announced, "I want to unpack the Gator Head."

Three generations of men excitedly assembled the floating decoy, which has glaring eyes that will--we hope--follow our friend the heron until he, being easily spooked, flaps his magnificent wings and leaves the premises.

Gator Head was a big hit with SBS, who pointed at the new addition to the pond and babbled enthusiastically in complete sentences of some description.

We're not sure if this latest measure will help. Actually, I haven't seen the bird in the last couple of weeks, but winter is his big season around here, and we don't want to lose any more fish and hope Gator Head will do the trick.

Pappy added helpfully, "It'll probably scare the fish."

Critters on the Patio

2008-10-15T16:56:00.012-05:00

When Pappy built our pond, we became avid fans of all the aquatic life the water feature provided, from the fish to the frogs to the dragonflies. Recently, though, we have been treated to closeups with animal life that we didn't foresee.

Have you ever seen a great blue heron take off from about a yard away? Two or three winters ago, we began spotting this impressive bird parking himself on the curved wall that borders our pond. Habitually, he comes by in the morning--I guess the pond looks like a breakfast buffet to him.

Occasionally a neighbor would call with a blue heron sighting: "He's on your roof!" JimnJane e-mailed us a photo of a great blue heron gobbling up yellow ducklings at a lake adjacent to our Shakespeare theatre.

During our initial sightings, I phoned a friend who had lost his entire koi population to a heron. His advice? "Get a decoy," he suggested. Thus we acquired Harry, the plastic heron. "Move him around from time to time," added our friend.

In the summertime, I don't bother repositioning Harry, because we only see the real thing in the winter.

He was early this year. This morning when, looking through the bedroom window, I saw him perched on the wall, I had to stare for a few seconds. He was sitting so still, facing away with his head turned toward me, that I had to convince myself he was the genuine article. (Please, don't anybody put a plastic heron on my wall.) I ran for my camera, but the heron started flapping those big wings, and he left the scene before I could snap a picture.

To add to the excitement, we also have a new Mystery Critter. Last week when I went out in the morning to feed the fish, I found that our large, full bucket of koi food had been overturned and rolled to a stop under the patio table. Odd.

The next day, the critter did better than that--the bucket was overturned again, and the lid had popped off, providing somebody a treat of koi food scattered across the patio. "DH," I inquired, "What would be big enough to dump over that bucket?" "We might have a possum," he replied.

Well, ewww! Isn't the possum, or opossum, that thing that looks like a giant rat? The idea of that running around on the patio didn't make me feel comfortable.

Research turned up the fact that the opossum is a marsupial, and an excellent climber. So maybe my strategy of latching the gate isn't going to be effective. I repeat, Ewwww!

On E-mail Etiquette

2008-10-15T16:51:00.004-05:00

Concerning proper procedure for sending e-mail to groups, this tip appeared on Macworld, but is equally useful for PC users:

E-mail Etiquette

Boy Catches Kitty

2008-09-30T17:21:00.011-05:00

Ever since he started to crawl, StickiBun Scotti has dreamed of getting his hands on a cat. He loves our Burmese kitties, but they have their doubts about him.

This may be due to the fact that often when he gets near one of them, he spontaneously emits an earsplitting squeal of delight that causes them to take off running in the opposite direction. He is just deliriously happy to be near them, and he has no idea of the fright that these sounds cause.

Nonetheless, while Niles is still pretty skittish around the boy, Frasier is warming up to him. He even rolled over for a belly rub when SBS was petting him the other day. SBS is very kind and gentle with the kitties, his excitement notwithstanding.

So, he's been walking for about six or seven months now, and he's picking up speed. The other day, he caught up with Frasier in the hall--I can only assume that Frasier let him win that round, because the cats are pretty quick. Coming up behind the pair with camera in hand, I snapped a photo that really illustrates the relationship between boy and kitty. He didn't put his weight down on him, but you can't tell that from the photo. Frasier was fine with it, although he did slink on out of the way shortly afterward.
SBS was squatting down to pet the kitty, and, well, the kitty was below him, so he kind of sat on him.

No animals were harmed in the taking of these photographs.

House with No Name

2008-09-20T14:52:00.005-05:00

DH: So, how come we're seeing you guys on a Friday night? Aren't you usually watching one of the indie films about now?
BevNev: Yes, but they held over the movie from last week, and we've already seen it.
TS: What's the name of the movie?
BevNev:Brideshead Revisited.
DH: Wasn't that the name of an old movie or something?
BevNev: First it was a book, and then a TV show, I think. Brideshead was the name of the family home.
TS: Oh, I'd love to live in a house that had a name, rather than an address. Wouldn't that be cool? If our house had a name, what would it be?
DH: OUThouse.
2-Joke-Limit: You could call it Wilbur, or Louise.
DH: What about Hathaway House?
TS: Sounds like Halfway House.
DH: Yeah, that's good--but make it Hathway House.
TS: Halfway House with a lisp.

We Might Have to Adjust the Roof Line

2008-09-16T21:58:00.006-05:00

Over the years, DH and I have learned the art of compromise (some of us more than others). Compromise has proven an invaluable tool for resolving conflict, particularly in the area of home design.

We are very different when it comes to how we want to decorate our home. As a result, there are rooms in our home in which DH gave the decision-making over to me, possibly because I had always yielded some spaces to him. In DH’s spaces, I rarely interfere. He gets the patio (for cigar-smoking and reading) and the den (for viewing the Giant Television), and of course, the workshop. I claim the living and dining rooms and the master bedroom.

I should also point out that DH builds elegant custom furniture for nearly all the rooms in the house. Woodworking is one of his hobbies, and he’s awfully, awfully good at it.

Now, whenever women start looking around in one of DH’s rooms and point out how beautiful things could be, it makes him uneasy. This week was a good example.

TS: I’m thinking about taking down those blinds and putting up some curtains there.
DH: Huh?
TS: The birds have chewed up those blinds, and they’re impossible to keep clean. Plus, curtains would block out more of the light when you’re watching movies on the Giant Television.
DH: I don’t like the sound of this.
TS: It’s just curtains.

(next day)
TS: I have swatches.
DH: Great. Let me ask you something.
TS: Eh?
DH: Is this all some sort of stealth maneuver between you and Color Girl to start redecorating my den? Will it just begin with swatches and end up with new furniture tastefully arranged somewhere away from the TV?
TS: I can’t believe you would even suspect us of that. You are totally paranoid.

(later)
Color Girl:We could re-cover the loveseat, and paint.
TS: Paint? That makes him nervous. Anything which might require the unplugging of audio-video components gives him cold sweats.
Color Girl: We wouldn’t have to move the cabinets or anything. You know, if you really wanted a big project, you could . . . well, nevermind that.
DH: Oh, no. What?
Color Girl: Just blow out the wall and enclose the patio.
DH: Ohhh . . .

Made to Collide

2008-09-12T09:39:00.008-05:00

On one of the news channels the other day, I saw a story about a particle accelerator that just went online in Switzerland this week. Apparently some scientists at CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research, are trying to replicate the conditions that existed in the universe just after the Big Bang. They're hoping to answer some fundamental questions about our existence (or to at least generate many more).

Now for the fun part: the project's existence has spawned at least one lawsuit from individuals who are concerned that the device could actually create a black hole which might destroy the Earth! Not to worry: CNN reports, "Although physicists acknowledge that the collider could, in theory, create small black holes, they say they do not pose any risk. A study released Friday by CERN scientists explains that any black hole created would be tiny, and would not have enough energy to stick around very long before dissolving."

People are so excited about this that a science writer even created a much-viewed rap song about it on YouTube

I think the best prospect for this is the action movie potential. I figure you can dub it the Genesis Machine, slap Harrison Ford in it, and you've got yourself a whale of a blockbuster.

I wonder if he can speak with a Swiss accent.

Blue Strayed Shoes

2008-09-07T22:12:00.010-05:00

A couple of months ago, Mommadrool got StickiBun Scotti a pair of blue clogs, and the boy loved those shoes. He wore them everywhere, and he would have worn them to bed if she hadn't taken them off his feet and put them away so he couldn't see them at nap time and bedtime.

Lately, he had taken to hiding them. The little shoes would disappear, only to be found in the bottom of a laundry hamper or in some other unlikely spot.

Last weekend, DH and I went up for a brief visit. We had SBS all to ourselves for a while, and we thought we'd take him to the store with us. He was shoeless, but when we looked for his favorite blue clogs, they were nowhere to be found. They weren't in their drawer, they weren't under the crib, and they weren't in his mom's room.

This was terribly sad, so we took him to buy more clogs--except we couldn't find any clogs in his size. Finally, at Wal-Mart, we stumbled upon some black Spiderman shoes, and his eyes lit up when we put them on his feet, so off we went with SBS wearing the new Spiderman shoes.

Back at SBS's house, he was proudly walking around in the new shoes when we noticed that his eyes weren't the only things that were lighting up. To the little man's delight, when he walked around, some festive red lights glowed on the shoes. DH, being a Real Man, had his misgivings, but the boy was quite taken with them. At first he'd stop walking to look down at the lights, and they would go out. It didn't take long for him to figure it out.

We'll miss the ubiquitous clogs, but SBS has moved on. The world is such a delightful place when viewed through the eyes of an 18-month old child.

The Patio Smells Like Dryer Sheets

2008-09-05T22:32:00.009-05:00

DH was grilling some beef the other evening, and I walked outside a couple of times, thinking, what is that fragrance? The entire patio smells fresh, like . . . like . . . Bounce or something. I just couldn't identify the aroma, until I turned around and saw these giant yellow blooms, some as large as six inches in diameter, and I remembered having planted those Angel Trumpets.

The plants grew quickly--they're taller than I am now--but I forgot about them, except to mention to the kids that I read they were poisonous and that we need to watch the babies if they get near them. (Yes, I realize she's not really a baby anymore. I will get used to this eventually, about the time they turn forty.)

Now, the fragrance has gotten even stronger, and I am in love.

Umbrella

2008-08-25T21:28:00.012-05:00

It was the largest, heaviest, most macho umbrella I'd ever seen. We had purchased it years ago, at the men's store with the really high prices where DH only shops about once a decade. Mostly, it resided in the cloak closet (DH thinks it's funny that I use this antiquated expression), because it didn't fit anywhere else. I guess we could have purchased a giant umbrella stand, but we didn't.

I would take it out on special occasions--hurricanes or other big storms which called for such ammunition against the elements. I thought it was indestructible, and it looked like it could shield a small family.

Last Saturday, we remembered that we had a concert to attend, and as we prepared to leave, DH, who never carries an umbrella, went to the cloak closet and grabbed the giant umbrella.

It was pouring when we arrived at the theater; DH dropped me off, and I walked the few yards to the door sharing a friend's giant umbrella. After the post-concert reception, we headed to the exit and opened the door. "Oh, no," we said. DH added, "I'll have to get the car." As soon as he stepped out the door, tropical storm Fay snapped the umbrella into a tangled mess. As we drove home, we passed a large commercial sign in the road, and we watched as another blew free and fell to the ground. We saw two transformers send out fireworks as the traffic lights began to go out, and our power was out for a day-and-a-half, all together.

We lost a tree limb, and small areas of our sidewalk are under water, but other than that, we've just gotten some much-needed precipitation.

But I will miss the big umbrella.

Catfish on the Runway

2008-08-21T13:19:00.007-05:00

Tropical Storm Fay is wreaking havoc with people’s Florida travel plans. Some travelers looking forward to trips to the beach cancelled plans rather than risk a chance of heavy rains or just a messy, windy weekend.

Air travelers faced flight cancellations and delays for a variety of reasons, including 1-2 feet of rain in some locations:

“Four catfish kept a Delta Air Lines flight from landing on time at Melbourne International Airport on Wednesday, CNN affiliate WFTV reported. The walking catfish, which use their pectoral fins to move and can stay out of water for some time, were on the runway and airport crews had to move them before the plane could land.

'Besides the catfish, crews also encountered two gopher tortoises, a blue indigo snake and an alligator, WFTV reported.”

Oh, and speaking of the media--have you ever watched the Weather Channel? I had occasion to see it off and on yesterday, and they have this new program, People Talking About the Weather. Well, I don't really know what they call it, but it's like a talk show where people discuss the most controversial and thought-provoking weather issues. Also, they show clips of Weather Channel reporters being blown about by unruly weather.

Now, I really like that part. One day I'd like to do a little video of a friend in one of those blue jackets holding onto a tree and being upended by a storm.

Just an odd fact about me.

Weather Throws Us a Curve

2008-08-20T11:10:00.003-05:00

Well, drat--as KayZee says, "This hurricane is going the wrong way!" I agree--they're supposed to go left to right--not right to left!

The Blonde Leading the Blonde

2008-08-19T16:25:00.007-05:00

It’s almost time for the annual beach trip with KayZee! We are really excited, and it looks as if we’re not having a hurricane. I have my laptop, my 95 SPF sunscreen, and my snacks, along with my trashy mystery/romance novel (we're downgrading from last year's Pulitzer-prize-winning tome).

Now all we have to worry about is getting there and getting back. Last year, I drove, and I appointed KayZee the Chief Navigator. Maybe we should both be Chiefs, since both of our dads were in the Navy. Anyway, last summer I had the Bond Girl going and KayZee had four or five helpful documents, including Mapquest directions and Google directions.

Well, the Bond Girl, as she is wont to do when she’s not in a major city, went a little berserk and started giving us wrong turns. We didn’t really get lost, but we had to turn around a couple of times before I realized that I shouldn’t be listening to the Bond Girl on this particular trip. (She’s very sharp in Atlanta and Birmingham, but rural areas are not her forté.) KayZee was very supportive, but I think we may have had too many helpful documents. The result was what DH calls “The Blonde Leading the Blonde.”

The other day, KayZee suggested, “I think we maybe should use a map.” So this year, KayZee is driving, and she has one map, so we are very optimistic about our chances for a successful road trip. Maybe we’ll take our journals so we can pen our thoughts about the beach and any wrong turns along the way.

Zucchini Again

2008-08-16T16:19:00.004-05:00

We ate out three meals a day while on our mini-vacation, and the scale showed it, so I’m trying to do better and take off the couple of pounds I gained in the Berkshires. (In Lenox one morning, a friend walked past my table in the dining room, glanced down at my plate, and commented, "Hearty breakfast.")

Back at home the other night, I went a little crazy and cooked a meatless meal. It had tricolor whole-wheat macaroni, cottage cheese and wonderful freshly grated Romano cheese, along with stewed tomatoes, onion, garlic, oregano and—you guessed it—zucchini.

We had had a week-long discussion about this meal—NO MEAT? ZUCCHINI?-- and I finally convinced DH that I could keep the zucchini in and he could easily dig it out. It’s not as if I hadn’t seen him do this before.

Well, he was pretty grumpy that evening. I loved the meal, and eating like that helps me keep my weight under control, but it plunged DH into a mild case of depression for the remainder of the evening. He finally decided that the only thing that would cheer him up would be a trip to Dairy Queen. He got one of those decadent waffle things and I ate half of a small Blizzard, hoping not to derail myself too far off my sensible eating program.

I enjoyed DQ, but let me tell you something—it is very, very difficult to throw away half of a Blizzard.

The Tanglewood Festival

2008-08-13T21:08:00.008-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, a group of us, friends and supporters of our symphony orchestra, traveled to Tanglewood Music Center, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, for the Tanglewood Festival. The Festival, which began in the 1930’s as the Berkshire Symphonic Festival, draws about 300,000 music lovers annually.

Our symphony has a special relationship with Tanglewood and with Boston University Tanglewood Institute (BUTI), and although this was the first trip for me and DH, it was the group’s 10th visit to the area. We met DH’s parents and sister, too, making it a fun family mini-vacation.

One activity that we particularly enjoyed was a trip to Naumkeag, a 44-room 1880’s house surrounded by 49 acres of gardens and farmland. Also on my list of major highlights: sitting in on a piano master class given by Dr. Jonathan Bass. I was amazed at how quickly the students comprehended and executed exactly what he asked of them.

We saw three major performances at the Koussevitsky Music Shed on the Tanglewood campus.

On Friday night, we heard the Boston Symphony Orchestra perform works by Ravel, Saint-Saëns and Chausson--featuring Joshua Bell on violin—and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, our favorite of all the music we heard while there.

Following the concert, two members of our group managed to get a prime spot in the long line for Joshua Bell’s signature, and the violinist autographed CD’s and programs for them.

Saturday evening’s offering was a Tchaikovsky opera, Eugene Onegin, headlined by soprano Renée Fleming. Afterward, the autograph seekers somehow procured an invitation into Ms. Fleming’s dressing room, where they had their photograph taken with the gracious American opera singer.

On Sunday afternoon, buoyed by their successes with meeting Joshua Bell and Renée Fleming, our friends were first in line to see Yo-Yo Ma. Unfortunately, he was not giving autographs, but in lieu of a signature he posed for a photograph with the delighted pair, and they left with their prize stored on the digital camera.

All in all, it was a fun-filled four days of enjoying incredible music-making in gorgeous surroundings with a cool mountain breeze blowing over us.

The Zucchini Festival

2008-08-10T17:22:00.001-05:00

DH and I were having dinner with KayZee one night, and when DH's meal arrived, he slid off his glasses and studied his food. “D**n,” he said. He had found zucchini fragments in his dinner.

KayZee was enthralled, but I had witnessed this scene many, many times. Once when Pappy was a teenager, I had made some lasagne. But this wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill lasagne. Oh, no—I had had the audacity to put some vegetables in this dinner, and one of the vegetables was the dreaded zucchini.

Pappy and I ate our meals and watched curiously as DH picked every speck of zucchini out of his dinner. By the time it was all over, there was a little pile of zucchini fragments next to his plate. I was incredulous and Pappy was hysterical. Somehow in our 10 or 12 years of marriage, I had never deduced exactly how much this man hated that little green vegetable.

A couple of weeks ago, we were on vacation, and we were traveling through West Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and I saw a big banner that read, “Zucchini Festival! Well, I am a vegetable lover, so you can just imagine my delight. Also, I had seen that 1991 movie, Doc Hollywood, and I was dreaming of outdoor movies and sparklers and giant squash people and such.

We didn’t make it to the festival, but at our lunch in Albany, New York, the last day of our trip, somebody told me, “Hey, your husband ate zucchini.” “WHAT?” It turns out that there were some shredded green things in our salad. Proudly, I turned to him to give him the news.

Later, I was told that those green things were just skinny strips of celery. Huh? I guess they don’t celebrate the zucchini in Albany. I am sure, however, that one day DH will eat some zucchini. And he’ll watch Sense and Sensibility, eat quiche, and work out with me. Hope springs eternal.

Happy Feet (Little Man 1.5)

2008-07-30T21:27:00.008-05:00

The last time Little Man came to visit, he came with some new features. He’s a year and a half old now, and during that weekend he reorganized my spice rack (I did the labels, which seemed smart since half of the jars were out of the pantry anyway), worked out with my hand weights, and ran around the house in Grandpa’s big shoes.

Also, he’s taken up dancing. We were trying to figure out what step he’s doing—it looks like a cross between the merengue and the salsa, with a little hand clapping thrown in. Whatever it is, he has a really good time. He was so tired by the time we took him to the pool, I think he was practically napping on the float.

Another feature of Little Man 1.5 is that he’s learned to give treats to the pets—in a manner of speaking. We taught him to toss koi food into the pond. Once, when some of the food fell short, he tried to pick up every piece that he’d dropped. He’s a detail person.

Next, I showed him how I toss a few kitty treats onto the floor at the cats’ dinner time. (Frasier loves that—he thinks he’s actually hunting.) Little Man began following the cats around, tossing various snack items at them. He loves to share—he always has, even when it involved food that he absolutely adored.

On Monday, the day after they left, I found a Cheese Nip in the cats’ bed.

To see an example of Little Man’s happy feet, click on the 'play' button below!

Trashy Barbie

2008-07-18T11:23:00.020-05:00

For one of her birthday presents this year, The Fred received her first Barbie doll, a magical Mariposa Barbie. Seeing The Fred's reaction brought back pleasant memories of when I was a little girl with my Barbie dolls. I remember having a Guinevere dress and a black-and-white swimsuit for my Barbie. That was a long time ago.

As I reminisced, DH and The Roomie and I began to think about what kind of Barbie would be a big seller with the baby boomer generation now:

HotFlash Barbie
Bifocal Barbie
Insomniac Barbie
Mood Swing Barbie
Depends Barbie
Forgetful Barbie
Osteoporosis Barbie--comes with her own cane
Plantar fasciitis Barbie--she's traded in her high heels for "sensible" shoes with orthotic inserts
Plastic Surgery Barbie--turn a tiny hidden crank and watch her features tighten
Sun-damaged Barbie--the older version of Mailbu Barbie. Comes with a special light to reveal all the sun damage from those years on the beach

And now, Barbie’s in the news again. The other day, I was
walking by the Giant Television when a disturbing image popped up onto the screen. I saw what appeared to be a Barbie doll, dressed in a leather jacket with fishnet stockings and very little else. One of the so-called news channels was reporting that the doll was based on a comic book character and that religious groups were upset.

Uh, yeah.

The Cosmopolitan web site (we at Terribly Shy are very particular about our sources) reports that “Mattel has released a doll based on a character from the Black Canary comic book, clad in leather, fishnet stockings and thigh-high boots [Ed. note: Those aren't thigh-high.]. The doll, to be released in September, has outraged Christian groups, who have dubbed the toy ‘S&M Barbie’." Hey, we hadn’t thought of that one!

The group Christian Voice said, "Barbie has always been on the tarty side and this is taking it too far." They're probably right, but I like that word, "tarty." I actually found the word "tarty" in my Merriam-Webster, and it means exactly what you think it means.

So now, we have more ideas for the iconic Mattel toy:

Tarty Barbie
Trashy Barbie
Slutty Barbie
Dominatrix Barbie

And some people think our vintage dolls damaged our self-image . . .

“Barbie tends to reflect what’s going on in society,” mused DH.

Well, that’s encouraging. We’re all going to be pole dancers soon.