I think it's time for some more excerpts from my "collection of things that amuse moi". Perhaps I'll try a theme of women and/or kids. Both topics can be very amusing.
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Three Wise Women would have....Asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts, and...there would be Peace On Earth.
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Dear Lord,
So far today, I've done allright. I have not gossiped, or lost my temper. I have not been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or over-indulgent. I am very thankful....But, in a few minutes I'll be getting out of bed, and from then on I am probably going to need a lot more help.
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They say wisdom comes as you age.
Now I'm in a real jam.
At sixty, I should be a sage,
And look what a twit I am.
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I am not asking you to be a normal child....I am just suggesting you be smarter about your crazy side.
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You've got to put down the ducky,
If you want to play the saxophone.
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A good Life lasts for generations.
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Here's to good Women
May we know them
May we be them
May we raise them
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Well, that's what you get when I spend more time talking to youse guys than writing my own stuff. So.... behave yourselves......"Don't make me get the flying monkeys" (I love that one, hehehe)

Today I've been pondering the imponderable, or maybe it's the ironic, or is it moronic, or anagramic, or analgesic, or hyperbolic, or hyperbaric, or maybe just weird. Dunno. Probably just silly.....I like silly (on occasion).

First ponderance - - How can you figure out what day of the week it is by looking at the calendar? You can't. They've got all these scrolley things on TV, but it's difficult to find one that gives the day of the week. Oh, yeah, they'll give you the time, in every time zone, and sometimes even the date, but rarely........hey, with the date I can look at the calendar and get the day. I knew talking this out would help. Previously, my only solution was to look at my pill organiser, and hope I hadn't screwed up my meds...again. (Actually, I just realised how much it sounds like I did screw them up. hehehe)

Well, that went so well, let's try the Second ponderance - - How do you look up a word in the dictionary, when you don't know how to spell it. This one has bothered me since childhood. I would ask my mom/dad how to spell a word, and you all know what the response was, - - let's say it, all together - "GO LOOK IT UP". There was no spell check. You wrote it wrong and took the bad grade and got yelled at again. No point in trying to explain why you couldn't look it up. In our house that would have been 'sassing back', which was not encouraged. 'Nuf said. Still haven't figured it out, but for all the tortures I did inflict on our kid, she never heard "Go Look It Up"

So
- - These are the kinds of things I like to think of:

On Wednesdays when the sky is blue,
And I have nothing else to do.
I sometimes wonder if it's true,
That who is what and what is who.
.....................................................W.T.P.
<*><*><*> And then I wonder, how are you ?

I was just cruising through the dictionary. Oh, shush, I like looking at words. I always find something new, and today I found a gooder. (I also like doing funny things to words). I found the word remora. At first, I thought it was cremora and couldn't figure out how it got into the Rs...darn, fine print. It's a fish ! I'd never heard of it, and it sounded interesting, so I wanted to read some more about it. This is the conversation I had with myself.

" So, where do you suppose that book on Fishes of the World is?.....Fish heads, fish heads, rolly-polly fish heads, eat 'em up, yum.....Well, now what ?.....It's not with the field guides...'course not, fish don't hang in fields hehehe..... Maybe it's.....oh you silly old crone, where the heck has your brain gone. You have a whole frickin' computer full of fishes !!!"

So, I googled that little sucker and found out that's exactly what he is. A Sucker fish. He has this plate on his head that he uses to attach himself to other sea creatures, like sharks, and whales, and turtles. They've also been known to hitch a ride on a Carnival Cruise, or any other ship bound for warmer waters. Cultures that hunt turtles, sometimes use them by tying a rope to their tails, releasing them in a good area, until they suction on to some poor unsuspecting turtle. The poor schlub of a turtle just figures he's giving this lazy so and so a free ride, until they're both hauled onto the boat. Smaht! Oh, don't worry about the remora. He gets tossed back to do what remoras do best...sucker some one else. As for the turtle, well that is the cautionery part of this tale..."never pick-up hitchhikers !" And...keep a good thought when you're waxing your car.

Now, THAT's a fish story.

I was just sitting at my desk, looking around for something to inspire me, get me out of my own head, and maybe into yours. I found this. I look at it every day, but I haven't seen it in awhile.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.
Never trouble another with what you can do yourself.
Never spend your money before you have it.
Never buy what you do not want because it is cheap.
Pride costs us more than hunger, thirst and cold.
We never repent of having eaten too little.
Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.
How much pain have cost us the evils which have never happened.
Take things always by their smooth handle.
When angry, count ten before you speak; if very angry, a hundred.

I have this on the mug I keep my pens in...it's Thomas Jefferson's Canons of Conduct. I think I'll go have a cuppa in my Ben Franklin tea cup. Ta.

I understand that many of you must wonder "What the heck is she up to", when you see the footprints I leave behind. Well, I can't help it. Of course I probably could, but it would mean changing my 'process' and I'm not up for changes this week (or ever...) To begin with, the first time I ever 'clicked' anything was less than a year ago. That's when they lifted the rock I was under. I have never right clicked anything and I've temporarily given up on trying to figure out cut and paste. Oh, stop groaning, it gets worse.

The way I xanga will probably annoy some of you, but most of you are tres forgiving and supportive. That's one of the reasons I enjoy my escapades in xangaland. I have no idea how all that subscription/friend thing works, so I've created my own system, my own style, so to speak.

First off, I have dragged and dropped (sounds so butch) a bunch of you guys into a folder in my favorites. My most favorites are at the top and I start my journey from the bottom (best for last). I check out every site for any new entries, and if there is one, I read it and maybe leave a comment. Then I read my kid's blog and try not to get too distracted by what's going on in her life.

Now comes the fun part. I go to my site to see if anyone has left me any comments, or messages, or just a kagillion footprints. What's up with those? If my site is any indication, I must drive some of you nuts. I enjoy myself for awhile reading your comment to my blogs or my pulses, or maybe you left me a message. You all know how rewarding it is to have someone talk to you, even if it's just to say Hi - how're ya doin'. Then I go marvel at how 1 comment can generate 3 to 100 footprints. If there's anyone new there, I check them out using the same system as explained below.

Next I go to the list of comments I've left in the past couple of days, and return to those sites to see if there's been any follow up, or to see how the discussion is going. Here's where I start to have even more fun. If someone has commented on my comment, or has made an interesting point, or I just want to see their picture better.....I click 'em. I check out their gobbledy gook stuff on the left, and then I read their current blog and maybe one or two others. Next I check out all their photos and most of the time I can't resist leaving a few comments (there are some great/funny/artistic photos out there). Then come the videos and the audios (I really want to figure how to put music on my site). The pulse section is usually good for a couple of chuckles even when there aren't any entries and it says "so and so has no pulse". Now, once I've started to form my own opinions about the person, I go to their profile to see what they have to say about themselves...curses, foiled again...most people don't fill out their profile. Then I decide if I'm gonna D&D 'em or wait until I check back on my comments. Invariably, within the next few days I'll see their footprints on my site and maybe even a comment. Depending on the conversation and or comments, from one site, this romp through Xanga land could happen a few times. See - - a kajillion footprints all over the damn place.

I do understand that there is a system in place for subscriptions (Nat'l Geographic?) and friends, and, no doubt, my system is way more convoluted than needs be, but I like it. The main thing is, my sanity has been saved by all of you neet people. For a couple of hours, every evening, we have a lovely tea party. So forgive my dainty size 6's tromping all over the place. I'm really glad you're there, friends.

Years ago ( early 70's) I received my most prized kitchen possession. It was a bonus gift with a set of steak knives - all gone - and some kitchen tools - slotted spoon and best ever potatoe masher are all that's left. As you have probably guessed - TaDah - it's a Big Blue Bowl.

It's made out of some sort of plastic, and it's pretty flexible. You can bend it enough to pour stuff, but it also stands up to the mixer really well. It's about 6 or 7 inches deep and about 10 inches across. It's smooth on the inside - no mold ridges that prevent the beaters from digging in. The sides are straight up and down with just enough of a slope at the bottom so that there's no design groove, and the sides are easy to scrape.

You can easily prepare any cake recipe in it. For pie dough it's wonderful cuz it's a wider surface area so you can really get those knives a slicin' (not that I've made any pies recently). It's terrific for my ginger cookie recipe with the 5 cups of flour {huge batch}. It really shines when called upon for salads. Cesar dressing first and then tons of lettuce - toss it all. Chop a whole head of cabbage, grate the carrot, add the secret ingredients, and there's still room to mix up that cole slaw. Mm-m-m! Soak the beans, work the meatloaf, mix the casserole. It does it all.

Then there are the non-cooking chores it's called on to do. It's great for mixing compost in with the potting soil before I plant stuff (to be killed). Sometimes, I'll fill it with warm soapy water and sit on the floor with my little knick-knacks, humming old tunes, cleaning the little dahlins'. Good times. It is very convenient for rinsing out those items too precious for the washer (not that I'm overly burdened with those). I use it often for little clean up chores. Even though it doesn't have a handle, I trade that for being easier to reach into. I've even soaked my foot in it (I can hear the eww-ws ). I have no idea what the material is, but none of the dirt, or cleaning chemicals or onions or even my foot, leaves any odor in it. I can use ajax and boiling water on it and it rinses out fine - - ready for our next adventure.

Okay, now I'm starting to sound goofy even to me. Every time I use it lately, I find myself humming that old PP&M classic about the Phrog and changing the words to 'Big Blue Bowl'. I thought you might enjoy the tale. By the way, did I mention that it's blue? Well, it is.

Sometimes people say things that I disagree with. I'm definitely not the be all and end all when it comes to expounding on philosophy, but sometimes people say things, sort of glibly, that I don't think they've really thought about.

Recently, in a Xang-versation about murder and mayhem in the world, a few people noted that we humans continually walk a fine line between good and evil. Certainly not all of us? I believe that most of us reside on the side of good, even damn good! Yes, we sometimes swear, we cheat on our taxes, we don't call our mothers, we drive over the speed limit, and we may have even had a few drinks when we do. We think impure thoughts and maybe even some evil ones, but do we skip over that line and actually do evil? You know, and must admit, that there are lots and lots and maybe even big bunches of kind, generous thoughtful people who would never actually do evil. You might even be one of them. In my day to day life I don't think I could take a comfortable breath if I thought that every person was struggling with staying on the good side of the line. This reminds me of a story about our well-behaved kid, when she was little, little and teaching herself to read - - she would tell people that she didn't get into trouble because she was raised with "de skip line" (di scip line). {I love it when things in the Universe go "click"}

One of the other things (of many), that some people say, is that dying is part of living. This one, much to my despair, I feel I can speak to with too much experience. I have had the dubious honor of being with a few really close people when they died. And I'm here to tell you that dying is much different than Life. I was also with these people in the days, weeks and months before they passed, and it made me nuts when visitors would refer to the person as dying. arrgh! I understand the semantics of it (picky-picky), and that folks need an expression to bandy around, but........where is that damn couch, I know it was around here someplace. Anyhoo, for me there is only Life or dead. And for those who glibly espouse the 'we're dying from the day we're born' theory........well, good luck with that. Me, I've been living since the day I was born, and I plan to continue.

I suppose I could think of more expressions, but, frankly, I'm dying for a nice Amaretto on the rocks while I stretch out on that couch and think evil thoughts - - -or not. Ta.

I was just reading about a fellow xangans attempt to deal with collections and clutter. Well, in my world, I was the major culprit, and it had very little to do with being artistic, as has been suggested. There's lots of stuff and lots of reasons:

First off there are the family heirlooms. Handed down through the generations, the line getting slimmer and slimmer, until ther are just a couple of us to inherit 6-8 peoples' lifetime of paintings, jewelry, books, dishes, furniture, misc collections and paperwork. I don't mean bank statements, I mean birth certificates from foreign countries, citizenship papers on fancy schmancey paper. Daguerotypes in beautifully tooled leather frames. Civil war stuff. Art deco jewelry. My grandmothers' tea cups. Just stuff and more stuff.......except to me.

Then there's my husband's stuff. Not a lot, mostly books. Last Christmas, the first since his going, I gave each of his family members, down to the newest baby, a book from his collection, and there's more, way more than enough left to do it again this year. (but I won't) Art books. Everything Edward Abbey has written. Civil war fiction and non-fiction. Old sci-fi books. His prized possession, the Harvard Classics. Beautiful books about the desert, and historic Indian sites and practices. All sorts of history books. Then, there're the computer manuals, and the game stuff, and pieces of this , and parts to that. Stuff that I will never use. (don't worry, geeks, I will make sure they get a good home with someone who cares). There's also his art supplies. We're talking SUPplies: Pastels; easels; leather portfolios; drawing sets; Dremel tools; pads of, pads of, pads of paper; canvases; and many completed and half-completed pieces.

The next category, we'll call: The Stuff She Left Behind. Who the heck gave her all those stuffed animals, and then there was the Auntie who crocheted all the characters from the Wizard of Oz, also made Hansel and Gretel, and a six foot clown. Let us not forget the dollhouse, 30 or so ML Ponies, countless games, a few barbies and 3,000 barbie shoes, a kajillion legos, and at least two bikes. Lots of early artwork and (precious to me) writing pieces. The children's books are staying. The rest....hmm-m-m?

Then there's my stuff (besides the heirlooms). My coloring books, knitting stuff, sewing stuff, lots of embroidery stuff, all sorts of rocks, many Wade animals, or little stone animals, especially turtles (Are you a Turtle?). Pens, I love all the new colors in gel, I have quite the assortment of rings and a stamp collection that I've inherited. Oh, and let's not forget the empty boxes and the bubble wrap. ( I might have to mail something)

Okay, so that pretty much takes care of the stuff. Now, on to the paperwork. In the past 5 years I have been in charge of 4 Estates. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that is? A lot, big bunches, a waste of more than a few trees. Then there's the Insurance company "This is not a bill/Keep for your records" crap; Tax returns for the past millenium and their W-whatevahs; planning board notices and condo assoc. announcements; social security pummelings; investment chuckles and bank haikus.

What to do - - what to do? When the kid moved out, her room became the catch-all spot. When in doubt throw it in, shut the door. By the time a couple of years had passed, you couldn't walk in there without moving stuff: Clothes; out of use tapes and cassettes; overflow of tupperware; old set of pots and pans; useless gifts; photo albums and boxes of pictures; two file boxes of school stuff; kids old comforters w/curtains. Do you get my drift? When you saw it, you just couldn't imagine where to begin. The kid came home one weekend and I sent her in there to at least get her stuff organized. Right. I checked on her after about 3 hours and she had pushed a bunch of stuff aside and had piled up some other stuff (not in any order). She had herself a little spot on the floor and she had beautifully arranged most of my smaller stones into a lovely display. Groovy. useless..but Groovy.

My dahlin' had finally had enough. On my next trip away, 3-4 weeks, He took one of his hissy fits and started throwing stuff out. A sewing machine (I did have two); some of my clothes; some fabric; all sorts of stuff. But before he got too far, he and I made a plan that suited us both. He bought 8 good size plastic buckets. Without particularly sorting anything, he took everything that was left and loaded them up. He emptied the 2 catchall drawers in the kitchen and another horror of a utility closet with a dead freezer in it. He hung all kinds of those wire organizer shelves in the closet. In the 'Junk' room, he built himself a desk with shelves, put more shelves on another wall, moved in an old bureau, piled up the buckets, and waited for me to come home.

It really worked pretty well. After I perused all the buckets, to find out what I was dealing with, I would open one at a time. I would sort through, and toss, keep, or donate the contents. Whatever I kept, had to find a place and stay there. Within a couple of weeks we were down to 3 buckets, and they were mostly gifts that I had to give and some heirlooms that hadn't found places yet.

Eventually, I got through the whole house. Expired anything/out. Buy a new collander/throw the ratty old one out. Chipped almost anything/toss. Buy a new lamp/donate the old one. Useless to you decor/donate. You get the idea.

Considering they make whole shows about this now, I feel I'm at the forefront of ...something. I wonder what my demographic is? I think it must be you. Thank you for your support

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always, there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your goals. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strenght of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of loneliness and fatigue.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt, the Universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.

And, whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be Cheerful. Strive to be Happy.
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One of my most enduring memories of the 60's, was my introduction to Desiderata. Two brothers and countless friends in Viet Nam. Stress and strife a la famille. And, the pill had been invented, so there was a virgin to be sacrificed. Through it all, day by day, I came to cherish these calming, comforting, and reaffirming words.
As the years went by and there was work and marriage and a kid and all of the good and the bad that we all go through, I had my mantra. Make no mistake, I am not very 'placid' at all. It has more to do with the striving, for me. And I do believe that it's a beautiful world, and that I do have a right to be here. So do you.

So, to my latest xangan friend, I see your Invictus, and Your Road Not Taken, and raise you a Desiderata.

Awhile back I made a plan and I even wrote about it, elsewhere. Since I'm still working on implementing it, I'll share it with you. It begins with my decision to start singing out loud, again. There is absafricken no one to offend, and I can hit or miss as many bad notes as I want. The thing is/was, I always loved to sing, but this breathing prob that I have, made it difficult. I've gotten much stronger and singing actually helps. And, then, there are those songs that are constantly playing in my head. I don't know where they all come from.

Some of the obvious ones are where I'll just hear a snippet, and won't be able to shake it loose, like the Oscar Mayer wiener song or "It's a jungle out there...", or "Woke up this mornin', got myself a gun...". You get the gist. Then there are the slap you upside the head ones. Like, I'll hear a word or a phrase, and, off I go. Baby - "Baby face, you've got..." - or - Rain - "Rain drops keep fallin' on my..." - or - All I want - "All I wanna do is have some fun...". That's actually fallen into the next category, which is, the songs that are just there, no prompting. The most inexplicable, is George Harrison's "I've got my mind set on you..". I'm not a huge GH fan, and I only know the one phrase...over, and over. (family need not send rest of lyrics just cuz you can) One of the songs that is in my head quite often, and really cracks me up when I realize that I'm humming it, is Rod Stewart's "If you want my body, and you think..." What a giggle !!!

I can remember my Dad sidling over to me, to hear if he could figure out what it was that I was humming. Very cute ! Boy, did he ever love to sing, and what a terrific voice. When he passed away, many people were surprised that he requested there be no church involvement. They all remembered that, for years, he had doggedly attended church. What they didn't know, was that he only went to sing in the choir. Funny old singer ! I was also fortunate to have another dad in my life (not always so funny) - - my father-in-law. He was a hummer too, and a big music lover, in general. I think one of the main reasons that he liked me so much was because I knew as many old songs as he did. Every time I hear Frank, or Bing, or Rosemary, or the Andrews Sisters, I think of dad.

So, that's the ongoing plan. Sing out loud. Now, see - that song is stuck in my head, " Sing, sing a song, make it simple to last your whole life long. Don't worry that it's not good enough for anyone else to hear, just sing - sing a song."

P.S. One more thing about music. My Dahlin' loved it, but he couldn't sing (couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't). The exceptions were the "rhum-rhum-rhums" in The Little Drummer Boy, and the "wim-a-ways" in The Lion Sleeps Tonight - - - sing a song my friend.