EX Marks the Spot . . .Musings from a Has-Been

This Celebration Will be Short-Lived!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 01:50:00 +0000

Boy, it has been difficult trying to decide what to blog about.

That’s because I try to avoid political topics but at the same time want to scream with utter delight that our state’s (South Carolina's) presidential primary is past, i.e. the phone calls and television ads are gone.

For a while, any way.

Oh, yes, they will be back. I don’t know exactly when they will start again. Perhaps August. More likely we’ll be flooded starting in September and going through the November election.

Having the primary over with makes it awfully appropriate that we’re in the midst of “National Clean Out Your Inbox Week.”

You see, the political infiltration didn’t stop with phone calls and TV ads; the candidates and/or their campaigns and representatives filled our computer’s inboxes.

Many of us were notified every time a local “anybody” endorsed a candidate. We got e-mail to let us know where candidates were speaking and eating – and shaking hands and riding their buses and caravans, when their spouses were joining them or where the spouses would be speaking.

This week also just happens to be “No Name Calling Week.” Boy, we could have used that last week or the whole last month or even always and forever.

Since I’m always so intrigued by these off-the-wall observances, I guess it’s only appropriate to point out that Sunday is “Curmudgeons Day.” The Free Dictionary (online) defines a curmudgeon as “an ill-tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions.”

The way campaigns are run these days, the way so many politicians bellow out about other politicians, the phone calls, the e-mails – these all seem to turn me into a curmudgeon.

Maybe that’s why I think another special observance this week is fitting when talking about politics.

Friday is “Thomas Crapper Day” – and I’ll make no other comment about that.

***

PS -- Make no mistake about it; I love our country and I still think we are fortunate to have the right to vote. Still, I'm somewhat of a curmudgeon with the political atmosphere as it is.

- - - -

Football, The South, Gadgets & Men

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:15:00 +0000

The Duppster – that’s hubby Karl Duppstadt a/k/a Dupp – grew up in Pennsylvania.

That means he, like many others who didn’t have the privilege of growing up in the South, doesn’t realize that real football is played at the college level and at the high school level. He thinks real football is the NFL.

In fact, I’ll never forget the time we drove by a recreation department football game involving elementary school children and saw folks tailgating at the game. He thought that was hilarious. Dupp just doesn’t get it that football starts at an early age around here, and it’s important in the Southern life cycle.

Anyway, back to Dupp and watching the NFL on television.

Someone once said, “Men are simple things. They can survive a whole weekend with only three things: beer, boxer shorts and batteries for the remote control.”

I’ve always thought the remote control alone was probably enough for The Duppster. That was until this past weekend.

Dupp was watching NFL playoff games. He doesn’t use the remote as frequently or repetitively during football games as he does other times, so he had no reason to practically squeeze the remote control every moment.

I guess that freed up his hands and he felt the need to have those hands doing something else. I glanced over at him – and laughed.

While watching the game, he also was using his laptop computer, his cell phone, an iPad – and he had one of those contraptions in his ear that I believe is called a Bluetooth or something like that. That was four – as in “one, two, three, four” – different electronic devices in addition to the television.

No doubt, that’s why he hadn’t answered anything I asked him. He was carrying multi-tasking to its highest level.

He probably didn’t even know I was in the same room until a flash of light let him know I had just snapped a photo of him with all of those contraptions.

Thank goodness for electricity and batteries, huh?

* * * *

Ah, the Spine!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 21:39:00 +0000

By the time anyone reads this – assuming anyone ever reads my ramblings – I should be feeling a great deal of relief.

The surgeon took care of my upper back, shoulders, neck and, yes, even my head bright and early Monday morning. I was ready for the knife. Heck, he could have used the hammer or an axe or any other implement of his choice if that’s what was needed for relief.

I had gotten to the point that I couldn’t look from side to side without turning my whole body. There was no comfortable position for sleeping, sitting or standing, which, of course, didn’t leave many options.

The doc said that much more and I would have had trouble using my arms, hands and fingers. That concerned me, because I’ve never been very good at playing the piano with my toes. I know; I’ve tried.

I’ve had two previous surgeries to the lower spine; this is the first to the cervical spine/neck area.

Aside from bringing about relief, the really good news about all of this is that it means I actually have a backbone, unlike some of the politicians around us.

* * *

Photo Hunt - GATHER

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 14:55:00 +0000

Note: If you haven't had a chance to read the post below this one, take a moment to do so. If you can read it without laughing, you're just -- well, I don't know what. It's hilarious!
~ ~ ~ ~
This week's Web Photo Hunt topic is "gather."

Many in our family gathered together on Christmas night. Wish the entire family could have been there but grateful for those who could gather together.

This one is Christmas 2009.

Here we are in 2008.

And here in 2006.

We're not very original in our setting for gathering for Christmas photos, are we? Not everything else is constant, though; the family changes for various reasons - death, birth, marriage, divorce.

Gatherings from others in the Photo Hunt are here.

Note: Don't forget to take just a minute to read the previous post for your giggle of the day.

~ ~ ~

Just hilarious! See if you can read it without laughing . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 17:02:00 +0000

Mom forwarded this. It's so funny that I just had to share:

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill
them.

What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although his kids' stockings overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go, you'll only confuse
yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, 'What does this do?'
'You're kidding me!' 'Who would buy that?' Finally, I made it to the
inflatable doll section.

I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.

Finding what I wanted was difficult. 'Love Dolls' come in many different
models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do
things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale.

To call Louise a 'doll' took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. 'What the hell is that?' she asked.

My brother quickly explained, 'It's a doll.'

'Who would play with something like that?' Granny snapped.

I kept my mouth shut.

'Where are her clothes?' Granny continued.

'Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,' my brother said, steering her

into the dining room.
But Granny was relentless. 'Why doesn't she have any teeth?'

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, 'Hang on Granny, hang on!'

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, 'Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?' I told him she was my brother's friend.
A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants.

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
I can't wait until next Christmas.

May You Live Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 05:22:00 +0000

Surprise! It's Photo Hunt on the Web

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 22:33:00 +0000

This week's word for Photo Hunt is SURPRISE.

Harrison was surprised the first time he bit into a lemon. Can you tell?

To see other Photo Hunt surprises, click here.

Peanut Butter Sausage

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 20:52:00 +0000

So, here I am for a couple of days taking care of two grandsons, Harrison, 3 3/4, and Fisher, 11 months. Yes, I put "3 3/4" 'cause there's a lot of difference in 3 and 4. He'll be 4 in mid-March.

This morning I asked Harrison what he wanted for breakfast. Well, that was my first mistake; his mom has told me before not to ever ask Harrison what he wants to eat - just fix something and tell him that's what he's having.

By the time I remembered her advice, the damage was already done.

Harrison answered that he wanted "peanut butter sausage." I was still half-asleep, so I thought perhaps I was hearing things; I asked again, and again got the same answer: "peanut butter sausage."

I had no idea what peanut butter sausage was. I told Harrison I had no idea what he was talking about. Actually, my exact words were: "What in tarnation is peanut butter sausage?"

He said, "I'll show you." He went to the refrigerator and opened the door. Then, as he looked over the contents, he explained, "You get the sausage out of the drawer and put peanut butter all over it. Then you mix it with milk. And then with cheese. And then with diet Coke. You put grapes next to it."

By then, of course, I knew there was no such thing as peanut butter sausage.

Harrison knows how to play tricks on his grandma. And he does it with such a straight face. And a sweet, innocent one at that.

He had cereal for breakfast.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tops in Trivia - Our Winners!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 15:14:00 +0000

Congratulations to last month's top five scorers in "Do You Know" trivia. What? You're not playing? The link for the daily game is on the right-hand column on this page. Each day of the week has a different topic. Only 10 questions each day. Sometimes easy, sometimes medium, sometimes hard. (I thought the one for today - 12/1 - was hard. Ugh!)

Top Three in Number of Daily Wins in November:

1. gardener

2. 3M

3. mvaughan

Top Five Scorers in November:

1. 3M (134 points)

          2. mvaughan (131 points)

         3. gardener (123 points)

        4. nitebird2 (104 points)

         5. grandmacat (103 points)

Thanks to ALL of Our Recent Participants (in no particular order):

skullfullamush

Kitopila
grandmacat
DyreStraits

Cheesecat

Bud

gardener
mvaughan

sally

singz4fun2

xray2u
3M

BuddyP
Sherry
HLMeeks
Tippy

nitebird2

THANKS to ALL Players!

* * * * *

Photo Hunt for 11/26/11

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 03:06:00 +0000

The Saturday Photo Hunt is on my other blog today. Here's the Photo Hunt for "handwritten."

Unusual Thanksgiving List

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 03:38:00 +0000

Around this time of year, i.e. the fourth Thursday in November, writers start writing about the things they are thankful for.

Yep, that means most of us go right near a whole 11 months without writing about what we’re thankful for. `

Well, I’m gonna be like everybody else and tell you some of the things I’m celebrating.

I’m thankful for my arthritic fingers. Most of them are right crooked. They’re knotted and a little gnarled. Sometimes they hurt like heck. But I’m thankful for them because they still play the piano, type away on the computer, cook a bit and scratch where there’s an itch.

I’m even thankful for my head. Oh, sure: it doesn’t work right all of the time; it’s even slow on occasions and it hurts from sinus problems and tension. But it’s awfully good in bearing the blame when I forget things, when I mess up, when I’m wrong: it’s just this old head, you know.

I’m thankful for my legs and feet. For the most part, they get me around and get me where I’m going. Sometimes they jump a little, quite unexpectedly. Sometimes they don’t want to sleep when the rest of me does. And then sometimes, they go to sleep when the rest of me doesn’t.

The feet are downright ugly. An ex-husband told me there was no way God could have made up for what He did to my feet. They’re also very flat. Even so, I’m thankful for the legs and feet.

And I’m thankful for the rest of me. Some of it isn’t exactly where it’s supposed to be anymore; nature took care of that!

Oh, yes, there’s a lot more that I give thanks for – family, friends and all of those things most people write about.

And one more thing: that very first Thanksgiving – you know, the one with the Pilgrims and Indians back in 1621? It lasted three days.

I am very thankful that our Thanksgiving eatin’ time doesn’t last three days.

This ole body couldn’t handle that.

Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!

* * * *

Celebratin' - Novels, Horns, Peanut Butter & Banana Pudding

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 09:13:00 +0000

Have you celebrated yet?

November is National Novel Writing Month. I’m guessing you probably didn’t hunker down and write a novel this month. At least not yet. I didn’t either.

It’s also National Life Writing Month. Now I’m not certain exactly what that means; after all, we can’t script our lives. And we can’t rewrite our lives, although many of us might like to rewrite certain chapters in our lives.

Perhaps this is supposed to be a time to write your autobiography. Did you do that? No, I didn’t either.

But I did finally realize one of my dreams: I got a book published, so I’m officially an “author.” Yippee!

Yes, it’s a small book. It’s not scholarly (no surprise there, huh?)

May I share?

See, I subscribe – at least today – to the old proverb: “He who tooteth not his own horn, his horn not get tooteth.” So, yes, I’m sharing, i.e. tooting my own horn.

But I’m also tooting the horns of 18 others.

The book is Don’t Pick Up The Ham With Your Fingers: A Little Book to Do Momma’s Naggin’ For Her. (I’m better at naggin’ than at tootin’. Did I just actually write that????)

The book of humorous and occasionally serious naggin’s is illustrated throughout by work from 18 talented folks, ranging from a sixth-grader to retiree. I am overwhelmed by their talent.

These folks, all South Carolinians, are from Prosperity, Aynor, Chapin, Surfside Beach, Summerville, Greenville, Charleston, Mt. Pleasant, Conway, Myrtle Beach, Columbia, West Columbia and Lexington. Maybe there's a future Grandma Moses, Jasper Johns, Andy Warhol or even Michaelangelo in there!

We’re doing our first book-signing this week. It’s a new adventure for most of us and we’re having fun. And, yes, of course, we hope YOU find a copy somewhere.

By the way, November is also National Peanut Butter Lovers Month and Banana Pudding Lovers Month.

I celebrate those all year long!

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Win a FREE Copy of the New Book!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 02:43:00 +0000

We're have a little Giveaway Contest on the book's blog, so come on over for your chance to win the book. And, if you don't want a copy, come on over for a visit. This is a new experience, so your support is needed, wanted, appreciated!

http://hambook.blogspot.com/2011/11/win-free-book.html

Old Photos? Or Just Old Faces?!?!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 04:25:00 +0000

Most people don’t like to have their pictures taken. Oh, sure, there are a few who do.

I’m in that first group. I don’t like to have my picture taken. Maybe it’s because we haven’t yet identified a side that could qualify to be my “good side.” Actually, I don’t think I have a good side.

Be that as it may, I have a picture someone took that I like okay. Considering others, this one is at least half-way decent.

That’s the one I chose, naturally, to use on my Google profile and on other Internet sites that needed a photo, although later I found another that I used on an alternating basis. I didn’t like the second one as much but at least it was a change from time to time.

The first photo, though, is the one that was on a particular site that The Duppster (my hubby) was checking out last week.

That’s also the photo he was looking at when he asked, “How long ago was THAT picture taken???”

He was on the right track; this was most definitely not a new picture.

But it’s not like it was 30 or 40 years ago either. It was taken in November 2009 – exactly two years ago. Now, I ask you: How much can one person change in just two little years?

Yep, you’re right. Apparently, a WHOLE lot.

When my own hubby thinks the two-year-old photo is an ancient one, it’s time to use something more recent. I’m thinking of using an avatar or caricature instead of a real picture.

Whatever I use, I don’t think The Duppster will be asking how old it is any time soon.

------------------------

Top Trivia Winners - Last Three Months

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 16:50:00 +0000

October

Top Five Scores (tie for 5^th place)
1. mvaughan (145 points, 6 wins)
2. 3M (144 points, 2 wins)
3. gardener (131 points, 2 wins)
4. nitebird2 (120 points, 0 wins)
5. HLMeeks (101 points, 9 wins)
5. grandmacat (101 points, 1 wins)

Top Three Number of Wins

1. HLMeeks – 9 wins

2. DyreStraits – 8 wins
3. mvaughan – 6 wins

September

Top Five Scores
1. gardener (147 points, 7 wins)
2. 3M (127 points, 3 wins)
3. mvaughan (125 points, 6 wins)
4. nitebird2 (107 points, 1 wins)
5. grandmacat (88 points, 0 wins)

Top Three Number of Wins (tie for 1^st place)

1. gardener – 7 wins

1. HLMeeks – 7 wins
3. mvaughan – 6 wins

August

Top Five Scores

1. gardener (133 points, 3 wins)
2. mvaughan (128 points, 7 wins)
3. 3M (122 points, 4 wins)
4. nitebird2 (118 points, 3 wins)
5. Kitopila (77 points, 3 wins)

Top Three Number of Wins (tie for 1^st place)

1. mvaughan – 7 wins

1. DyreStraits – 7 wins
3. 3M – 4 wins

Not playing? Give it a try. The categories change daily on a 7-day rotation.

Yippee!!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 03:50:00 +0000

Yippee! It's published. The first copies of my book arrived today!

Okay, so this is shameless self-promotion of a sort, but look at it this way: the sooner we sell out, the sooner I'll quit posting about this project. Hint, hint.

What I really want to promote, though, is the art in the book. We utilized the talents of 18 artists, ranging from sixth grade through retirement years. The work by these folks is what really makes the book.

"Don't Pick Up The Ham With Your Fingers" is a little gift or novelty book; the subtitle is "A Little Book to Do Momma's Naggin' For Her."

This illustration is featured on the cover. It's by Austin Lane, a student at Socastee High School near Myrtle Beach.

It's a book filled with the humor and wit of a parent's nagging. So, why do the illustrations and caricatures feature a pig, a monkey, a ladybug and flip flops? Find out when you get your copy.

Below are the links to see more about the little book and about the illustrators, including Emily Lyles, whose art is on exhibit at one of the Smithsonian galleries 11/1/11 - 1/22/12.

On Facebook

The Book's Blog

Necks, Chins and Aging

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 01:10:00 +0000

This week I turn 62. I don’t feel 62.

Except sometimes.

Like when I look in the mirror and see that my neck isn’t anymore. I mean, there’s no neck there. It isn’t. It has ceased to exist.

My chin and neck have run together. Or perhaps it’s my neck and several chins. The turkey with the wattle has nothing on me.

And then there are the chin hairs. And all of the extra skin where there used to be just two eyelids and two eyebrows. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to open up my eyes because of all of the several folds of skin.

There’s also extra skin hanging around from the upper arms, especially noticeable if I lift my arms up above shoulder level. Thank goodness, I don’t have to walk around with my arms raised up.

Last week, when I asked the dermatologist about several worrisome spots, he said they were “wisdom spots.” Yep, those are what most of us call “age spots.” Then, he had the audacity to use my skin to show the visiting intern what happens to skin and elasticity as people age. There’s nothing quite like being a show-and-tell demonstration for the aging process.

Certainly less visible but just as indicative of aging are the inner signs – the aches and pains, the weak knees and weak hips, and even more.

I told one doctor about a burning pain in the area between my shoulders. He responded, “Do you see the arthritis in your fingers and how crooked your fingers are? Well, that’s the way your spine is also.”

Oh, great.

But I’m not complaining. I’m just sharing the process.

In fact, I would never complain about growing old.

My brother Rod didn’t get that opportunity.

~ ~ ~

Word Play - or Forgetfulness?

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 19:56:00 +0000

Sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain.

Sometimes my mouth works – and the brain is totally idle, as in off duty.

Admittedly, these statements don’t surprise folks who know me well. Those folks would include members of our adult Sunday School class, which I’ve been “teaching” for several years.

This past Sunday, as we discussed callings and vocations, I said my sister had a child with Alzheimer’s.

Class members snickered. They knew I meant to say “autism” instead of “Alzheimer’s.”

Well, I understand that autism and Alzheimer’s are not laughing matters, but when I think about saying that a woman has given birth to a child with Alzheimer’s, the thought is a little comical.

There are other words I confuse for no apparent reason. Like hysterectomy and hemorrhoidectomy. Believe me, I’ve had ‘em both; they most definitely are not the same.

Another example has to do with house-hunting. The Duppster, my fabulous hubby, is a craftsman of sorts. He wants to build things – furniture and such. So, we’ve been looking – leisurely and casually - for a house that includes a workshop.

But I mistakenly said the other day that we are looking for a place with a “warehouse.”

Talk about storage possibilities - a warehouse.

Wow! Isn’t that every woman’s dream?

~ ~ ~

Getting a Book on the Shelf

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 23:15:00 +0000

There’s more to writing a book than writing a book.

That sounds crazy, of course, but if you’ve ever tried it, you know exactly what I mean.

You see, the actual writing is almost nothing compared to what has to happen after the writing is done.

Of course, if your only goal is to write the book, that’s fine. But if you want someone else to read it, that’s when the real work begins.

For years I’ve wanted to write a book and I’ve known all along what kind I would write and what would be in it. So, I finally decided to take the plunge, so to speak.

And now I have three books written, almost four. No, you haven’t seen them on bookshelves because, right now, they’re pretty much still files on my computer.

After the writing, proofing, editing and such, there’s layout, cover design and so much more.

The writer has to decide whether to totally self-publish (the writer pays all costs, gets books printed, then stores them throughout the house/attic/garage/basement until figuring out a way to sell one or two of those things); boutique or print-on-demand publish (the writer still pays a chunk of money but gets only one copy; any others that might be sold are ordered through the printer/publisher and printed only as ordered); or find a publishing company that will pay the author royalties, advance or something.

There are negatives for all three options. With the latter, the author has even more options: find a company willing to accept the unsolicited manuscript, read it and maybe offer a contract, and then wait 12 months to three years to see the final product, or find an agent who’ll sign on the author and then do the work in finding a publisher.

Oh, yes, there’s even more. Once a book is in print, it has to find its way onto bookshelves, into gift shops and more. That’s called book distribution.

My first book will be “in print” in a few weeks. Whether it ever gets to a shelf other than in our own home remains to be seen.

Those Eye-Catching Headlines

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 19:00:00 +0000

We’ve all seen them, haven’t we? Those appealing, eye-catching headlines.

They entice us; they make us want to read more – to turn the page or to click on a link. Or maybe the purpose is to tempt us into buying a product.

I saw a headline recently that was supposed to be appealing, but, to me, it wasn’t. It said: Back to my pre-baby weight: 25 years later.

Do you know what I weighed the day before my baby was born? If that is pre-baby weight, no, I don’t want to return to it.

Show me a way to return to pre-pregnancy weight and then I’m all ears. Or eyes. Or whatever.

I’ve given birth to three babies and now, all these years later, I’ve never been close to pre-pregnancy weight.

Part of the problem is that I gained 50 pounds with the first pregnancy, 50 pounds with the second one and 38 pounds with the third.

Another part of the problem is that I didn’t lose the weight between those pregnancies. (Hey, you do the numbers if you want to know.)

What was my pre-baby weight each time, i.e. my weight just before giving birth? Well, I could never exactly tell because I could never see the numerical part of the scales. I could see belly when I looked down, and that’s all I could see. Thank goodness. I don’t think I ever really wanted to see those numbers.

Yet another part of the problem is that I like to eat. I don’t like to diet and I’m not much into exercise, unfortunately.

Nah, that headline didn’t entice me. Show me a magic potion to get back to pre-pregnancy weight without dieting, without exercising, with lots of ice cream and pound cake.

That’s worthy of a headline.

------------------------------

Just An Embarrassing Question

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 23:55:00 +0000

You may know the answer -- if you're female and if you're over 50-ish or so:

Just where all or how far does it grow before it's no longer a "chin" hair?

Just askin'.

=========================

Writing, Drawing and Facebook

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 16:22:00 +0000

I think Facebook is great.

Yes, it has its critics. Yes, it can be time-consuming. Yes, it can be annoying.

Yes, things can go wrong, but, hey, so can life. We can’t go through life avoiding everything that might go wrong. Otherwise, who would ever drive a car?

Anyway, back to Facebook. Some folks say it is impersonal. I find it just the opposite. I’ve found long-lost friends. We stay in touch in ways we very likely would not do by phone and in ways we’ve never done by letter.

I’ve saved the many wonderful and even funny messages posted on Facebook when Rod, my brother, died just over a year ago. They are a treasure to read from time to time.

That's just one example of how I've found Facebook to be personal rather than impersonal.

The reason Facebook is on my mind right now is that I’m finally writing a book. Actually, I’m working on three books at once, with two others in the wings.

For years I’ve wanted to write a book and even had one planned out in my mind but just never got around to doing it. Once I decided to actually do it, the one that had been thought-out got put on the back burner as I worked, i.e. had fun, on three others.

I love to write; I cannot draw. I can’t even produce a stick figure. Or a ball. Or a star.

So, since the first book needed lots of artwork, I posted a note on Facebook that I was looking for illustrators. Wow! I was totally amazed at the responses.

And now, this little gift/novelty book is nearing publication with illustrations by 16 talented South Carolinians. They are from all across the state and range from young students to retirees.

I’ve met only three of the 16 face-to-face but, thanks to Facebook, I feel like I know ‘em all!

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Taking a Break from the Phone????

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 02:08:00 +0000

I don’t like to talk on the phone. Never have. As a matter of fact, I detest being on the phone.

Why? I have absolutely no idea.

That’s the reason it shocked me when Mom and I ended a phone call a few days ago and I realized we had talked for about an hour and a half.

An hour and a half? That’s about 88 or 89 minutes longer than most of my phone conversations.

This was a special situation, though.

I’m getting three little books ready for publication, and Mom is serving as “editorial consultant,” i.e. typical mom.

On this particular day, we were going page by page over the phone, talking about corrections, changes, suggestions and so forth. It was a somewhat complicated procedure because I had made some minor changes, just enough that our versions weren’t exactly alike.

After about an hour, Mom asked, “Why don’t we take a break, go get something to eat, then come back to this?”

And that’s when she realized this wouldn’t work; we weren’t in the same place. We weren't even in the same town!

She said she had been thinking of several places where we could go grab a quick bite to eat before returning to our work at hand.

That’s something rather difficult to do when you’re over 100 miles apart, don’t you think?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawyers and Insurance Companies!

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 10:09:00 +0000

(The following is reprinted from The Azar Newsletter, an e-publication of long-time friend Joe Azar.)

Don't know if it is true, but it's a great story of don't-get-mad-get-even.

BEST TRUE LAWYER STORY OF THE YEAR, DECADE, AND POSSIBLY THE CENTURY

. . . .A lawyer purchased a box of very rare and expensive cigars, then insured them against, among other things, fire.

Within a month, having smoked his entire stockpile of these great cigars, the lawyer filed a claim against the insurance company.

In his claim, the lawyer stated the cigars were lost 'in a series of small fires.' The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious reason, that the man had consumed the cigars in the normal fashion.

The lawyer sued - and WON! (Stay with me.)

Delivering the ruling, the judge agreed with the insurance company that the claim was frivolous. The judge stated nevertheless, that the lawyer held a policy from the company, in which it had warranted that the cigars were insurable and also guaranteed that it would insure them against fire, without defining what is considered to be unacceptable 'fire' and was obligated to pay the claim.

Rather than endure lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance company accepted the ruling and paid $15,000 to the lawyer for his loss of the cigars that perished in the 'fires'.

NOW FOR THE BEST PART...

After the lawyer cashed the check, the insurance company had him arrested on 24 counts of ARSON!!! With his own insurance claim and testimony from the previous case being used against him, the lawyer was convicted of intentionally burning his insured property and was sentenced to 24 months in jail and a $24,000 fine.

(You reckon there was a politician involved in this whole thing??? Just askin'.)

` ` ` ` `

Where Were You on 9/11?

noreply@blogger.com (Sherry) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 10:34:00 +0000

Where were you on the morning of September 11, 2001? No doubt, you remember exactly, don't you?

I was driving by the Pentagon. We were leaving Arlington to return to South Carolina, after taking my six-month-old nephew, Ryan, home to his parents. We spent the night of the 10th, then got up on the 11th to drive home. We had planned to leave between 8 am and 8:30 but it was more like 8:45 when we actually left my sister’s house.

As we approached the Pentagon, I wondered aloud why there were police officers everywhere and why there were roadblocks being set up on the entrance and exit ramps. People were scrambling, rushing to close of the streets. In fact, I said that somebody important must be coming or going or doing something.

Because we were listening to an audio book, we didn’t have the radio on. Shortly, though, the cell phone rang. That's when we learned that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Immediately, we switched from listening to the book to listening to the radio.

We continued to drive south, trying to get news and trying to figure out what had happened. Soon, we learned of the second plane attack on the World Trade Center. And then the Pentagon crash. And then the news about the Pennsylvania crash.

These were hours of disbelief, shock, horror, confusion. This was more than the mind could fathom.

During some stretches along I-95, it was difficult to get clear radio signals, but we picked up bits and pieces as much as possible. It became clear that the country was under attack.

We felt helpless. Perhaps out of the helpless feeling came our desire to make a statement of sorts. We started looking for an American flag to put on the car. We were determined to show our pride in America. At the first exit, we couldn’t find an American flag to purchase. Nor could we find one at the next exit. Or the next. In fact, it took us many stops and about 200 miles to find a flag. We bought several.

As we continued the drive, people honked and waved at the flag on the car. Within days, in the aftermath of this tragedy, there were flags everywhere.
It many ways, it was a long drive home. My son lived in Arlington and worked at the Department of Justice in D.C. I couldn’t reach him by phone. I couldn't find anyone who knew where he was for about 48 hours.

It took a while, but a much shorter time, to reach my sister and brother-in-law also. I was anxious about family and friends in New York and in D.C.

As we’ve been reminded many times lately, it’s been ten years. I remember it like it was yesterday.