A Blog of Random Brain Excretions by a Smiling Writer

Life... It Is What It Is

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 02:48:00 +0000

It is what it is...
a fact of life I knew,
but have recently stared in the eye.

Friendships we choose,
The way we look,
The things we pursue,
The decisions we make,
The life we’ve lived,
The life we are living...

It is what it is.

The pain from our bad decisions,
The sorrow of lost opportunities,
The hurt of a devastating loss,
The discomfort of being alone...

It is what it is.

The joy of hearing a child’s innocent laugh,
The peace felt while sitting by a river or at the ocean’s shore,
The love of being with someone you respect and adore,
The thrill of living life at high speed,
The pride over a child that has grown into a truly good person,
The warmth felt when you know you’ve made a difference in a friend’s life,
The contentment of a life fully lived...

Realizing that all in life, at this moment,
simply is what it is...

A logical, intelligent, true statement of fact...
Life is what it is.

Accepting life in this way,
Is it facing reality, or embracing complacency?

Life is robust and glorious,
Painful and trying,
Filled with tremendous potential...
So by accepting simply that it is what it is,
Are we doing ourselves an injustice?
Are we sabotaging growth, improvement,
Preventing opportunities for learning to do and be better?

Maybe what has been, is what it is,
But the future, and today... right now...
It is what we decide it to be...
It can be what God wants it to be if we choose that path...
Or it can pass into another day of being simply what it is...

Life is what it is...yesterday.
Life is what you make it...tomorrow.

© 2010 Cherie' Davidson

(This is dedicated to a dear friend with whom I have greatly enjoyed deep, intriguing and fun conversations on life and all its ups, downs and mysteries. Thank you, Dave.)

Past and Present Meet After 30+ Years

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 17:42:00 +0000

Very recently I received a surprise e-mail. Someone sent me a Facebook friend request, which isn’t unusual in itself. But the name...now, that was more than unusual. It was a name I never thought I’d ever see again.

As I looked at that name, over 30 years rewinded for me in a millisecond. After the cloud of memory cleared from my eyes, I saw his photo in the e-mail message. Yes, those are his eyes, and that is his smile...I knew that face, even though he was 17 the last time I saw it.

With that Facebook request, an amazing journey began. One that few people are fortunate enough to take, and one I never expected in a million years.

We had spent several years riding a school bus together. We lived on the end of the route, so we talked a lot, every day. He sat on the high school side, and I sat on the grade school side, always under the constant vigilance of Clyde, our gruff, eagle-eyed bus driver. We talked about pretty much the same things most teens talked about in the 1970s...everything except that we liked each other. But my little pink diary was filled with thoughts on how much I liked him. He treated me like I was special, and important, and he imprinted a very positive, lifelong impression on my heart.

As happens, life moved on. Two innocent country kids began to grow up, and life parted us. He went off to college, and my family moved out of the area. Years flew by, lives lived, loves found and lost, good times, sad times and some confusing times, but not once in those years did our paths cross. Sure, I asked about him over the years, and when I started working on the Internet, I did a few searches. Nothing. I didn’t expect to find him...besides, he wouldn’t remember me. He was a senior and I was in junior high. I laughed at the thought that he’d ever remember my name.

Until Facebook. “How have you been, you may not remember me...rode that big old yellow school bus with you everyday... How is life??? Would be fun to catch up...”

He remembered me. Amazing. Staring at his strong, mature face, I still saw that boy. Those vibrant eyes and that charming smile. Seeing that name in my e-mail inbox seemed surreal. He just digitally dropped in, through time and space.

Honestly, I was a little nervous. Very happy to find that he remembered my name, but what was he like now? I’d had so many years of this wonderful set of memories entrenched in the fabric of who I am...would knowing who he grew up to be shatter those treasured memories? Would it just be better to keep the memories protected, keep that young girl’s crush safe from reality? That seriously crossed my mind...

However, I need life to be real. I’m a “face it head on and deal with it” person and I need to know truths, not live with pretty illusions...besides, I have an extremely curious nature. So, I clicked to accept this old friend from the past into my current life.

My reply e-mail was probably a lot of babble. I felt a little sorry for him having to read it; must have been pretty silly. The little girl from the past wanted to write all sorts of things, but I kept telling myself, don’t sound like an idiot, don’t say too much, let him tell you some things first...

He wrote back right away. I read his e-mail with a feeling that this isn’t real. This can’t be...but it is. It’s HIM.

For several days we exchanged e-mails, each more fun. They were filled with memories of a hometown, a valley, that we both adore. Catching up on family and friends, where we are in our lives. E-mails filled with humor and cherished, shared memories went on to become chats with more up to date information. We revealed some of our lives, and remarkably, there was no discomfort or uneasiness. We were not two strangers; after all this time, in God's plan, we were never meant to be strangers.

From chats, we crossed over to real life... and one evening the phone rang. I’m telling you, seeing his name on my caller ID, the complete surreal quality hit me again. HIS name and number on my phone. I nervously and excitedly picked up the phone, and I heard his voice. Even though he had a cold, there was a familiarity that settled right in...or was it already established from the chats and e-mails...or from time itself? I don’t know, but we had a laugh-filled call that seemed to mix time and reality in an amazing way. To speak to a childhood sweetheart after all those years...to find out your affection had been returned, and to not feel awkward about it...it was just amazing. (I think I’ve worn out that word!)

We’ve only just been reintroduced, and we are learning about each other’s lives and loves, past and present...and I realized that the relationship we formed in childhood had been one of friendship. A friendship that started in one decade and patiently waited through many decades, to arrive rich and full.

This reunion is a treasured time of my life. Whether we stay in contact, or life separates us yet again, the little girl now knows that boy felt the same way about her...and the woman knows the man is a good friend.

Life is remarkable...simply amazing.

Wishing you all a happy, healthy, wealthy and wise 2010!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 01:48:00 +0000

My apologies for such a long quiet spell. I hated missing out on the holiday posts I enjoy so much, but life has been busy, work hours long, and then I enjoyed a wonderfully peaceful vacation. So there's my pitiful excuses.

I don't "do resolutions" but I will try to be better at posting this year...and I have a couple essays by a writing friend I promised to post, so they will be up soon. (For those of you who have read all my posts, you may remember the name, Leslie Miklosy.)

Until I can take the time to be more verbose and pop out some pretty prose, here's a photo of "my girl," Dixie-Doo. She's been home for one year and four days now. We had a swell Christmas and "Welcome Home anniversary," and here's a photo of her smiling contentedly...yes, really, that is a smile curling those little beagly lips!

Happy new year, with wishes and prayers that it's a great one for us all!

Very funny e-mail about Christmas decorations -- still laughing!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 05:48:00 +0000

A very cool family member sent me the following e-mail today. I laughed, and the more I thought about it, the more I laughed. It's just one of those things that you fill in all the possible scenarios that go beyond the e-mail message. Or maybe I'm just strange that this gave me buckets of giggles throughout the day. Either way, I'm good with it!

As usual with the e-mails I post, I don't have any clue who the original source is, so if anyone knows, please let us all in on it so we can tell him or her thanks for sharing!

Take a good look at the photo, then scroll down and read the caption/story. And don't sip a beverage while doing so...I'm just sayin'...

“Good news is that I truly out did myself this year with my Christmas decorations. The bad news is that I had to take him down after two days. I had more people come screaming up to my house than ever. Great stories. But two things made me take it down:

First, the cops advised me that it would cause traffic accidents as they almost wrecked when they drove by.

Second, a 55 year old lady grabbed the 75 pound ladder almost killed herself putting it against my house and didn’t realize that it was fake until she climbed to the top (she was not happy). By the way, she was one of the many people who attempted to do that. My yard couldn’t take it either. I have more than a few tire tracks where people literally drove up my yard.”

Blazing Memories: Fall Chill, Sudden Loss, Lifelong Lesson... It was 1971

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 06:24:00 +0000

Early in my writing career, I wrote an essay about a very meaningful time of my childhood. It was a time of tragedy, by most people's definition, yet, I have positive memories of that October in 1971...and the lesson delivered to my child-soul. A real-life Halloween horror that provided me with a lifelong lesson and sense of appreciation.

Here is that essay, unedited...with all the bumps, bruises and written stumbles that come along with being a new writer...

More Than A Home

On a crisp, late October evening in 1971, I sat hypnotized, watching the largest, hottest, most ferocious fire I have ever seen- and ever hope to see. That night, through the tears, I learned a valuable lesson. The most meaningful memories can be a mixture of good and bad, and loss can leave a gift of appreciation.

Earlier that morning, my two younger brothers were making sure the entire family was up and starting the day. They ran around our rustic, lovely old house, from one spacious room to another, calling out and teasing our baby sister.

Mom had been up for hours, so breakfast was on the table. We all piled into the huge country kitchen and were greeted with the warm, aromatic smell of fresh hotcakes, homemade vanilla syrup, and sizzling, crisp bacon. No one noticed a slightly acrid smell coming from a back bedroom.

We loved our home, but it was something very special to me. It was the greatest house on the planet. There were four huge bedrooms upstairs, one for each of us. The second floor was our domain. It was so great, it even had a pink bathroom containing a mammoth, claw-footed porcelain tub. You could swim laps in that monster.

Directly off the front door, there was a long, half-winding stairway climbing to a large landing, which worked well as a wonderful eavesdropping-on-adults hiding place. We spent many weekends sliding down those stairs in cardboard box "sleds." Our goal being to slide right out the front door, but we could never get enough speed.

She was a great house, but one of her best attributes was her age. Our grand lady was going to celebrate her one hundredth birthday. I can remember so clearly the feel of the highly polished wood floors as we slipped around the corners, "skating" from connected room, to hallway, to next room. The smell of home-baked bread. The nightly sound effects whispering from the aged beams, as if the gracious old girl was lulling us to sleep with her dry, creaking, comforting voice. I remember every square nail, every restored rough-hewn wood panel, every groan in every stairstep.

After breakfast that particular morning, dad went into the back room to check on the old oil stove. It was puffing along, trying to keep us warm. Within moments, we heard dad yell for help. As we ran in, we saw him throwing coffee cups full of water at the wall and ceiling, above the furnace chimney. There was an angry red glowing spot threatening to climb to the adjacent ceiling, which was the floor of the boy's rooms upstairs. It only took a few minutes, and several mugs of cold tap water, and the emergency was declared over. No more hotspot, no more danger. We began preparing for the afternoon Halloween party at church. We forgot all about "the incident."

A few hours later, we all piled into our VW van, and off we went. The party was colorful and festive; and soon after dark, it was time to head home. As we were leaving, some friends asked us to come by for pie and coffee.

Dad thought it was getting rather late for the boys, so he decided to drop them off at home first. However, by the time we had reached the house, our pleading and cajoling (and a little nudging from mom) worked, and he gave in. He decided to let the boys stay with us.

Thank God.

We had been visiting for a short while when we heard fire sirens wailing in the distance. We lived in a rural dairy community, and there were many miles between neighbors. This was an area where people watched out for each other, so when the sirens screamed, everyone became concerned. Quickly, we were gathered up and loaded into the van.

Following friends and neighbors in a convoy of concern, we headed toward the terrible crying of the alarm. The closer we got to our part of the valley, the tighter my stomach knotted. By the time we crested the hill overlooking our beautiful valley, I knew. We all knew.

The incredible glow in the sky couldn't be mistaken. The smoke billowed upward in eerie gray-black pillars, rising high above the brilliant, searing, all-devouring, flames.

We parked across the street and watched through hot, dry, stunned eyes as our home and life turned to ashes in less than seven minutes. All we had left in the world were the handmade costumes we were wearing, and each other. Especially each other.

Later we were told the fire had started in the furnace chimney and had immediately spread upward, engulfing the boys' room and collapsing the second floor. The boys would not have had a chance.

The next morning, at daybreak, we went to see what might remain. All there was left was the brick chimney standing tall in the center of the devastation. Here and there we found little mis-shapen globs of melted glass or what looked like remnants of our old cast-iron cookware.

The only other thing that remained were hundreds of old square nails which had once held together a graceful, sheltering home filled with love. Each nail represented a time, a person, who had shared in the hundred years of memories.

That night I lost the home I loved. We lost all our material possessions, including seven beloved family pets. But, with the loss, I gained something very valuable -the realization that the most precious things we can have are those who love us. The scorching loss of my home left me a true gift of appreciation, which I treasure beyond words, -even more than a home.

'Twas a Dark and Stormy Night Fraught with Drama

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 21:59:00 +0000

It was a dark and stormy night. The moon, pock-marked and cheesy, begrudgingly shared the only light to be seen. This "Moon of Claiming" wasn't in any hurry to come out of hiding from behind the summer storm clouds and tall old pine trees.

On this particularly dark night, I found myself waiting for Dixie Doodle, my sleek and velvet-eared companion...a dame with plenty of attitude and four gams to get her what she wants. And right at that time, she wanted to take care of some biological business. I'm no idiot--I didn't stand in her way.

I leaned against the porch, wrapped in a tattered, fuzzy old blanket to ward off the dampness. I deeply inhaled the scent of heavy rain, wet forest and fresh ionized mountain air. In spite of losing sleep, I heard myself speak to the night air, something about life not being too bad.

While cocooned, gazing half-mindedly at the stubborn night orb, I realized I was wasting a photographic opportunity. Awkwardly I simultaneously drug, carried and tripped over the blanket, making my half-blind way back to the house. Bursting through the door, the soft glow of my LCD HDTV lit the way, allowing me to semi-quickly grab my camera. As I retraced my lumbering, fabric-laden steps to the porch, I hadn't accounted for the possibility that Dixie would follow...within moments there was a pile of tangled limbs, blanket, tripod parts... accompanied by yips, squeals and wimpering. And then I realized Dixie was still in the yard. If one humiliates oneself alone in the dark, is it still humiliation?

Eventually, I took 25 captures of the stormy sky and brilliantly shy lunar globe, all at different settings, mostly experimenting with manual settings on my Canon Powershot SX10. Due to unintended complications, not one exposure really produced a "good" image. But I was determined that this adventure was not going to pass silently into history. So I began a little post-processing in Photoshop.

I found I liked adding some texture to this image, as if it were a painting. The "fabric" texture depicts the evil blanket and the dark tone properly represents the inky, velvety darkness of the night. Do you agree? Disagree? Sorry I didn't get a picture of the blanket debacle?

(Click image to see it full view and really see the texture treatment.)

I actually won something - thanks to novelist Joe Finder and Twitter

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 16:29:00 +0000

I'm not the type of person who ever wins anything. I lived in Las Vegas for ten years and the most I ever won was $100 on a poker machine. I think I won $2 on a couple scratch lottery tickets. But otherwise, if it's a drawing, giveaway, gamble, game of chance, random draw...count me out. Not gonna happen.

That changed yesterday! I won a new iPod Shuffle on a Twitter giveaway. I had to read my name a couple times to let it sink in. I actually won something, and it was a pretty cool something at that!

How did this happen? Well, friends, it all started on Twitter...

Author Joseph Finder is promoting the release of his new novel, VANISHED. A highly anticipated action thriller, this book introduces Finder's new lead character, Nick Heller, a "private spy." (Read a juicy excerpt here.) He has a quickly growing fan following on Twitter, and with good reason. He follows people back, and replies to his fans personally. He and his very cool assistant Claire are very fan-appreciative, and it shows. One of the ways is through giveaways and great promotional ideas.

For the release of VANISHED on August 18th, Joe started a fun and clever Twitter campaign: for everyone who follows him at @JoeFinder, and who makes a tweet using the topic #Vanished (hash tag is necessary), will be entered into a drawing for an iPod Shuffle. I've been enjoying the clever tweets and the wordplay used with the title of the book. Joe has some fun and intelligent fans!

With this new Internet social marketing world, writers and authors like Joe Finder are learning to utilize the tools and connect with readers and fans like never before in history. And it's great for the fans, to know their favorite authors are real, and listen to them. A win-win!

I've read a couple of Joe's novels, and I enjoyed them immensely. I'll be posting some reviews as soon as time allows.

But until then, check out his pre-order special offer for VANISHED and visit his site to learn more about the very interesting Joseph Finder, the Yale grad, ex-CIA agent, former journalist and singer (a cappella, no less!). (I'm pre-ordering and will get a free signed paperback!)

(Photo by Joel Benjamin)

If you'd like to follow Joe on Twitter, click here: @JoeFinder
If you'd like to follow Joe's new character, Nick Heller, on Twitter, click here: @NickHeller
If you'd like to follow me on Twitter, click here: @smilingwriter

And that, folks, is how I came to win the iPod Shuffle. I have become a fan of Joe Finder's books and follow him on Twitter. I love to retweet his posts and those of other fans, and when the #Vanished challenge came along, I naturally couldn't resist. And I actually won! I'm still grinning about it...and watching my mailbox!

"Dance of the Lightning Men" is a very funny "How To" if you want to photograph lightning

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 01:35:00 +0000

Anyone who reads this blog knows I am in love with the nature photography of Stephen Oachs. Through my association with him (I've worked with him, mostly as his editor and copywriter, for over ten years), I am learning a little about photography. (Please, no jokes about my being a slow learner!) But, an additional perk is, I'm becoming electronically acquainted with other talented, skilled and gifted photographers.

One of these is Brian Rueb, a fellow who has a winning and witty way with words. I follow his Flickr stream, where he is known as "chaybert," and his stories never fail to get me to laugh out loud, chuckle repeatedly...and occasionally let out a snort from being caught off guard. He has a knack for tossing in something unexpected and totally engaging. (It was one of his posts that resulted in my finding Dixie Doodle and adopting her through PetFinder.com!)

Brian is a very talented and accomplished photographer who teaches art and photography to high school students. As if that's not enough camera time, he also co-instructs with Stephen Oachs, in outdoor digital photography workshops that are repeatedly sold out--and big hits. After you read Brian's story, you'll understand how fun those workshops must be!

So, without further ado, and with generous permission from Brian Rueb, here is an as-is reprint of his instructions on how to photograph lightning...

Tonight’s lightning storm was brief…but exciting…I always love watching light shows…the kind that just change color, and the kind that can pump you full of about billion volts….this was both.

The lightning was tricky to capture, and never quite the big blasts I hoped for but it was still impressive…but the color was INTENSE…I’ve never seen reds this deep and vibrant in a sunset before…and so focused to a small area. It just kept going and going. I thought I was the only one enjoying the show when I turned and saw my friend Jesse out shooting as well. It was nice to see someone else had the same idea.

This storm was also nice in that it didn’t rain….so I was able to photograph AND stay dry. If you decide to try your hand at lightning photography try these tips…

1) Bring a spare battery….shooting multiple 30 second exposures can be a pain…and a drain on the ol’ battery.

2) Be prepared to have about 1200 images that look the same, and have no lightning…or you can delete the non-lightning ones right after you take the shot…be prepared that the best lightning will happen while you’re deleting that last non-lightning image.

3) Using a GND filter is sweet…it’ll help give you a bit more light on the foreground…lightning does a pretty sweet job of acting like a fill light in the sky.

4) Get comfortable…you’ll be there a while.

If safety is your biggest concern…try these little useless tidbits to calm your nerves...because if you get hit…chances are you’ll be a human charcoal pile.

1) Try to assure yourself that doing things like wearing flip-flops will insulate you, and you’re perfectly safe.

2) If you’re big metal tripod gets hit…it will lessen the blow…and keep you safe….plus your tripod will now have super powers…and glow. Awesome.

3) Lightning only strikes people with mullets…

4) Lightning is too pretty to cause harm.

5) If birds are out…surely they would go hide if it were truly dangerous out…you’re safe.

6) Do a little dance…nobody ever gets hit by lightning while doing the robot.

7) Make sure your photo buddy is dressed in tin foil…they’ll think it odd…but you’ll know better.

8) Bring Jiffy Pop…after your speedy recovery…you’ll be hungry.

9) Wear sunglasses…if you can’t see it…it can’t hit you.

10) Taunt it. We all know it’s way harder to focus when being taunted…it’s why sports is the way it is. Lightning works in a similar fashion. If you taunt it mercilessly it will become frustrated, and not be able to hit you….

I hope that helps. And worse case scenario….pain is temporary…good photography lasts long after you’re a piece of burnt toast.

Beautiful Photography Video

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 16:16:00 +0000

This is the first video that my friend, Stephen Oachs, has put together and published on YouTube. He also has it posted on his blog, which is always very entertaining to read! If you love nature photography on any level, I urge you to check out his blog, Website and watch this video.

Very well done, Stephen! Hope we see more of these!!!

How Ticklish Are Your Feet?

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 03:53:00 +0000

Just how ticklish are your feet? I have a personal 5-point rating system. Where do your feet rate? Let's compare.

We're sitting in a comfy chair with our sock-covered feet up on a hassock, eyes closed, all relaxed and starting to doze off, and the dog walks by. Now here's the test...

• If the dog's tail lightly brushes across the tops of your toes, and you groggily open one eye just to casually take a peek, that's a 5. You’re aware, but minimally sensitive. Ticklish only when purposely tickled.

• If the dog walks by, swishing his tail, no actual contact, and you sort of notice the light breeze across your feet (remember, you have socks on), but don’t make any moves, I count that as a 4. Probably about a normal level of sensitivity.

• If he walks by, swishing his tail, and the light breeze causes you to wiggle your feet, but your eyes stay closed, that's a 3. Without socks on, you would have been much worse.

• If the light breeze makes your eyes pop open, and you look around in a “what just happened?” state of mind, that’s a 2 sensitivity. You’ve got some pretty touchy footsies.

• If that same gentle breeze sends you out of your chair, or causes you to launch the nearest reachable projectile at the poor pup, you my friend are a 1, for sure! Not just touchy, but intolerant to touch. You’re in the “tickle me and you lose fingers” club.

• What’s a –1? There’s no dog, you have shoes on, and you hesitate putting your feet up on a footstool, because it leaves them open and vulnerable. That’s me!

So, what is your tickle tolerance level?

Barbara Bretton was one of my first creative writing instructors...and she's giving away three novels for February!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 04:35:00 +0000

I was fortunate to have novelist Barbara Bretton as one of my first fiction (creative) writing course instructors. Although I haven't really gone in the direction of fiction, I will never forget her kind notes and constructive instruction, and how her comments allowed me to see what my words meant to those who read them. She was very encouraging, and helped me feel some confidence in my then newly nurtured talent.

Over the years, I've enjoyed reading her novels. I usually don't read too many romance novels (I lean toward action-adventures, thrillers, sci-fi, and works by Arthur Hailey). Sure, I've tried romances... the gothic novels of the 70s and 80s, mysteries, historical and regency romances, a couple "bodice rippers" and several set in the pioneering days. But, the ones I really enjoyed were the ones with humor...cleverly used humor. So, the two romance novelists I've followed over the years are Glenna Finley and Barbara Bretton. But Barbara is special...she helped me get started down the road I am now traveling.

I'm writing this post because I wanted to share Barbara with you all. I doubt she knows about this post, and she may only barely remember me, if at all, but that's okay. I really just wanted to share a little glimpse of my history, and introduce you to her, and her great prize drawings.

For February, she has a drawing for three of her novels (signed!) and an Amazon gift certificate. Very nice. Yepper, I've entered. I haven't had a chance to read two of the three novels she's giving away, so, I'm keeping my fingers crossed! Hope you will check out her site and sign up for her contest. She's an entertaining writer and a lovely woman, as well as a devoted knitter. Oh, and if you get a chance to drop her a note, tell her one of her former writing students says, thanks!

Credits: Photograph and book covers courtesy of BarbaraBretton.com

Smart Penguin Video

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 06:19:00 +0000

I was sent this video by e-mail. I have no idea where it originated, or who it belongs to, but I'm posting it, to share it with you. I am always very careful not to violate copyright, so if anyone knows the owner(s) or where I could track down the owner, so that I can confirm permission to keep it posted, I would appreciate it! But, since I'm reasonably sure that it's okay to post, here it is...

This appears to be real footage of a penguin being pursued by a pod of killer whales. Don't worry, it's not icky or horrifying or sad...I wouldn't post anything like that on a site by a smiling writer...but it is really something else, and it did keep me held in anticipation.

Hope you enjoy it...

Indelible Quote for Posterity - Stepping on the scale (Dave Barry)

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 19:21:00 +0000

"I recently had my annual physical examination, which I get once every seven years, and when the nurse weighed me, I was shocked to discover how much stronger the Earth's gravitational pull has become since 1990."

-- Dave Barry

Arctic Fox Photo that is not to be missed

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 23:03:00 +0000

Arctic Fox
Originally uploaded by stephenoachs

A really good friend of mine is a fantastic photographer. His work repeatedly takes my breath away, and frustrates me because it keeps robbing me of the words for adequate verbal praise. No kidding, I just run out of words to describe his work. Really, how many times can you say, beautiful, wonderful, fabulous, stupendous, amazing, stunning, fantabulous... you get the point.

So, I think this time, I'm letting this simple, elegant photo speak for itself. If you love animals, especially wild animal, and furry ones at that, this photo will capture your heart. I kid you not. Once I look into the eyes of this fox, it's like those paintings where you feel it's actually looking back at you.

Stephen got sick while in Montana, taking photographs in the snowy, bone-chilling climes. He's coughing, sputtering and hacking now that he's back home, but after seeing his shots, I have to hope he feels it's worth it...at least, maybe he will after he feels better! Take a look and see if you agree...he has posted a shot of a Bobcat, and one of two red foxes "dancing" in the snow, on his Flickr photostream, and I urge you to check them out, then check out his Website. If you haven't heard of Stephen W. Oachs yet, you will!

(Ok, enough gushing--for now, at least. lol) ...Now back to our regularly silly brain excretions... oh, and there'll probably be an update on Dixie Doodle soon, so stay tuned!

P.S. I have begun to tweet on Twitter. If you'd like to follow me on there, check it out on the right side of this blog, or look me up under smilingwriter at Twitter.com.

Christmas plans went awry, but sometimes awry is a good thing...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 03:09:00 +0000

I had planned to spend my Christmas time off, from VisiStat and various writing projects, at my mom's, but as events would have it, we were buried under a record-breaking snowfall. Day after day, night after night, snow, snow, snow! I think it lasted ten days solid. And I was stuck home...and then it snowed more.

I was fortunate that my electricity stayed on during Christmas week, but not so lucky with Internet. But that gave me a good excuse to be an offline human being for awhile! I need to disconnect from the Web every so often, to recharge my mental batteries. I'm not from the technology generation...I adopted it as a fully mature adult, so I periodically miss the days of my youth where there was no Internet, and entertainment involved stacks of books and an occasional old movie on TV. Being the reclusive writer that I am, I was easily able to enjoy myself while house bound. I called Mom numerous times, and the rest of the time I spent catching up on some reading, housework, some great old movies, and freezing in the snow trying to teach myself how to take decent photographs with my Christmas present... my new camera (a Canon PowerShot SX10 IS).

On Christmas day, I baked a delectable turkey breast (if I do say so myself) and made fried onions. Not traditional or much variety, but I had gotten caught off guard and hadn't made it to the grocery store before the snow hit. I live in a rural area, and it was too far to drive in for groceries in all that snow. Ok, I confess, I'm a winter driving weanie, so I believed it was too far and too scary to drive in the snow to the grocery store. Besides, I had ten pounds of moist, succulent turkey breast all to myself! And did I mention that delicious Cabernet Sauvignon a good friend had given me?

I thoroughly enjoyed my Christmas, and felt rested and very blessed. Talked to family, and had no deadlines to obsess over. It was really great.

Then Christmas ended, the weekend flew by, I took more photos of more snow, ate more turkey, and found my Internet was working again on Monday morning. I was working holiday hours until New Years day, i.e., no deadlines, just various low pressure projects and things that came up. And some fun work for a photographer friend, who I love to follow on Flickr (see his photostream here). There are a couple other photographers I enjoy following on Flickr, and one of them, chaybert, posted a photo of his new dog, Callie. His comments area mentioned petfinder.com, and being a pet lover, I was curious. So I popped over to the petfinder.com Website, and did a quick local search, just to see what I could see. Little did I know, that was a click that would change my life's balance and serenity...

I saw a photo (the one posted to the right) of a "spayed female Beagle" at a local animal rescue shelter. I didn't know anything about petfinder.com, or the shelter, and doubted the dog was still available. There was something about that little face, the floppy strawberry blonde ears, the sleepy eyes, and the patient stance.... I wasn't ready for another dog yet. I'd lost my 12 year old toy poodle about three years ago, and there was still a hole in my heart, and a bit of fear of feeling that sense of loss again. Besides, I was getting used to being unfettered. After 12 years of caring for a poodle with a back injury, I was finding the freedom rather appealing. Don't get me wrong, I really missed having a dog. I've had one almost my entire life. I had been thinking about maybe looking into getting one this summer. But I wasn't sure, wasn't ready yet. But there was something about that little face...

The next day, I went back and looked at the picture of this little sweetie, named Dixie Doodle. I don't know what it was about her, but she was sticking in my mind. So, I clicked on the link and went to the local shelter's Website, ColvillePetRefuge.org, to see what Dixie's story was, or if it even told. Once there, I found that the links listing their available pets weren't working. I wrote to let them know, and that night I got a phone call from them. We discussed the links and I helped with some advice on an easy way to remedy the situation, and was asked if I'd like to fill out an adoption application over the phone. I was a bit hesitant, but decided, why not? I could always say no at any time. After an over the phone interview, application information and a really nice conversation, Mary told me about Dixie Doodle...oh, my heart...

After more conversation, Mary said she'd call Dixie Doodle's foster home if I wanted to know more, and make arrangements to see her. I thought, what could it hurt. I could always say no at any time.

Ten minutes later, Bonnie, Dixie Doodle's very sweet foster "mom" called me. She had talked with Mary, and seemed to believe I would be an excellent match for little Dixie. After hearing more about her, I was beginning to agree, but did I really want to take on that responsibility again? Then Bonnie told me Dixie was such a good girl, but she'd been shuffled around so much, and hadn't really had a stable home where she could be herself, let herself have fun and just be a loved pet. Oh, my heart...

I told Bonnie I'd like to meet her, but the roads were horrible, and I didn't know when I could get to her. It might be quite awhile, since there was another storm coming. So we left it at waiting for the weather to improve. Maybe it wasn't meant to be...

The next day was New Year's Eve, and the roads were awful. Not awful for a winter driving weanie, but really awful! I wasn't sure that the visit with Dixie would go any further, and I have to admit, I felt so sad for Dixie, picturing her having to always be quiet and self-restrained, always feeling unsettled...but was I being selfish, not wanting to have another dog? I went to bed that night feeling sad for Dixie, confused about what I wanted, and figured I would "sleep on it" and see what happened. I have a very faith-based Christian viewpoint, and I prayed that the best for Dixie, and best for me, would happen, whatever that may be. With that, I drifted off to sleep.

I was awakened on Dec. 31st by my neighbor knocking at my door. I'd slept through my alarm and was afraid I'd be late for work...wait...the alarm clock was dead! I answered the door, and was told our electricity had been out for some time (which I should have known by how cold it was in the house!). After checking, I found it was going to be out for some time. Hmmm, and it wasn't snowing for the first time in many days. And the sun was shining for the first time in many, many days. And I unexpectedly had the day off, because without electricity, there was no computer or Internet. AND, my neighbor offered to take me out to see Dixie in her 4-wheel drive. I guess that prayer was answered pretty thoroughly, wouldn't you agree?

So around 1:30, I met Dixie Doodle. I called her name and she came running toward me, sat at my feet and wagged her tail until I petted her. Then she jumped into the car, curled up on the seat, and just looked up at me with those big, soft, sleepy eyes that tugged at my heart on petfinder.com. Guess what? She never left the car! We took care of the paperwork, fees and I adopted her that afternoon.

As I write this story, I have a 25 lb, 2-year old Beagle/Rat Terrier little girl stretched out next to me. We've just finished playing tug of war, her favorite game, and she's sleeping peacefully with her favorite toy at her paw tips. I think I see a little smile on her face! I know I have a smile on my face.

True, I am not as free as I was. I now have a living creature depending on me again. And I'm enjoying every minute of it. Yes, there's white hairs on my furniture and on my clothes, but I am getting out and walking with Dixie at least three times a day, and every time I look at her, I smile, and my heart fills with that special feeling reserved for animals and innocence. And she has the softest ears...

My Christmas and New Year's plans went awry, but awry was a very blessed thing.

Happy 2009 to each of you, and I wish you all contentment and joy the whole year through!

It's Christmas already?!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Sat, 20 Dec 2008 06:24:00 +0000

This year went by so quickly that I was afraid Christmas, my favorite holiday, would fly past me before I had a chance to really enjoy it all. So, I decided to start just a bit early and put my tree up and get it all decorated a little earlier than my usual tradition, to give me a few days extra to enjoy it.

It worked! And now I'm about ready to have my house back, remove the tree and put my furniture back where it belongs! Guess I put it up too early...I usually set the tree up and decorate it after Thanksgiving dinner. Thanksgiving day is the gateway to Christmas for me. (Guess I can blame that on the Macy's Parade; when I was a kid, I watched as it ended with Santa and his sleigh, heralding the beginning of Christmas season. I was psychologically embedded by Macy's and TV.)

But this year, my clever plan had me opening the gateway to Christmas while the little kiddies were running around yelling "trick or treat." Yepper, I was decorating for Christmas on Halloween. I wanted to be sure I had a full Christmas season...oh boy, I've had a full Christmas season alrighty. Instead of taking the tree down on New Years, I just may be taking it down the day after Christmas!

Although, now that I'm looking at it standing over there in the corner, its white lights glistening like ice and snow, its years of memories hanging from the boughs on little silver hooks, the festive red glass balls and gold sleigh bells scattered from bottom to top, I'm thinking, I just might wait until New Years after all. Christmas is a wonderful time, and when else can I have the house so filled with color and glitz and light?

While looking at my tree with the red and white tree skirt and the fuzzy stockings, many years of Christmases flood my memory, warming my heart, sometimes pulling a tear from my eye. The family and friends I have been blessed to share Christmas memories with, the changes in lives, loves, passing of old, some things lost, many things gained, and above all, the reason for Christmas, the birth of Christ, of the promise of life and love...all these things I see when I look at my tree. Nope, I'm not in any hurry to take the tree down, not yet anyway. There's still more memories to revisit, more memories to make.

I just may have started a new Halloween tradition at my house... "Boo! And Merry Christmas!"

May you have a memorable, warm and blessed Christmas!

Thanksgiving Wish

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 05:13:00 +0000

This is a Thanksgiving day wish that has been around longer than I have (whoa...that's a loooong time!). But the sentiment is still relevant, even if it's Tofurkey and whole wheat gravy (I shall refrain from editorializing further on the menu).

Have a warm, happy, tryptophan-enhanced holiday... and gobble til you wobble! ~ Cherie'

May your stuffing be tasty,
May your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes 'n gravy have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious,
May your pies take the prize,
May your thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs!

Maybe it's not a good idea to force your husband to go shopping with you...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 01:53:00 +0000

I alternately cringed, laughed, snickered, shuddered and nodded in agreement while reading this e-mail, so of course, I just had to share it! Enjoy... ~ Cherié

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunately, my wife is like most women--she loved to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Wal-Mart.

Dear Mrs. Samsel,

Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr. Samsel are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.

1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2 : Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away."

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him, he began crying and screamed, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the Mission Impossible theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look" by using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "PICK ME! PICK ME!"

14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed, "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"

And last, but not least...

15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!"

Regards,
Tom Richards
Wal-Mart Manager

"Oh, I hate mummies..." - actually, I love them! The Mummy 3 is coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 29 May 2008 21:24:00 +0000

I'm really excited about this movie. This and Indy 4 are the biggies I've been very impatient to see! I love the "old Hollywood" fantasy films with lots of humor, action, mythic bad guys (or creatures as the case may be) and tons of spectacle. And this trailer for The Mummy 3 looks like I won't be disappointed!

Expanding the detritus

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 23:10:00 +0000

Dear fellow Webanites,

In my exuberance, and while under the euphoric influence of blogging, I went and started a bunch of blogs. One for humor (this one...hope you can tell), one for my book reviews, one for movie reviews I've written, a fan site, one for a friend of mine who takes stunning photographs, the blog for the company where I work, and then I decided I needed one more. (What was I thinking?!) Yep, I figured I needed a personal blog that would be the perfect place for writing about my life, philosophies, job, and about writing from my experiences and unique perspective.

I figured I would use the domain, SmilingWriter.com, and stake yet another cyberspot for myself. I posted my introduction calling it a blog-journal (blournal? bjournal? bournal?), and there it sat. Since Nov. 07, that was the only post. It was titled, It Begins..., but that was all it did...begin.

After some time went by and I realized there just was not enough time in the day to keep up with all my projects, tasks, chores and to-dos (often, to-don'ts), I knew that something had to go. By logical selection, the least used blog should go bye-bye. But I had paid for a domain I really like, and I had received a very encouraging comment from just the one post I made, and I felt like I might have some entertaining (dare I say encouraging?) words to share.

Dilemma, dilemma. Decisions, decisions. What to do... ahhhhh, that is when I realized that I have this fun humor blog with a unique and fun name, and it tends to lean toward my taste in humor and interests, so why not consolidate?

So, as of today, SmilingWriter.com is moving to join Random Brain Excretions, becoming, A Blog of Random Brain Excretions by a Smiling Writer. Clever, huh? Well, maybe not very, but it's a great solution for saving some time and not wasting my domain name. This means that you can find this blog at www.smilingwriter.com and cdwrites.blogspot.com both. It also means there should be more posts like this one, woven among the e-mail humor, fun little poems, stories, and random things to read.

I hope you like the new blog, and will smile, maybe laugh now and then, and come back often. Looking forward to your comments and sharing many smiles.

Evolving, moving forward and smiling all the while... thanks for reading! (Hope you won't forget to sign up to receive e-mail notices when I post new entries.)

Until the next smile...take care!

Sweet Romance...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 20:25:00 +0000

A very good friend of mine is celebrating her 5th anniversary with her fiancé this weekend. Laura is a wonderful romantic and something of a Martha Stewart (though she could teach Martha a few things!). She has a real flare for drama and presentation, and knows how to have fun, and she's come up with a great idea for her man this weekend.

Due to the fact that this is a romantic event being planned, I will offer them some privacy and not go into details, other than, I MUST share her very original card with you.

Laura wanted to convey to Kim how big her love is for him, and how sweet their life is together. She had an idea for a sweet card, and enlisted her mother, Judy, to write an appropriate sentiment.

Judy has been writing personalized poetry for family, friends and special gifts for many years. Her mind just clicks on and her pen follows. I've enjoyed watching her create these fun "Judyettes," and Laura and I have always told her she should be published. Well my fellow blogophiles, I am very proud to be the first one to "publish" Judy's original work right here on my blog!

So, as you read the poetry, imagine it on two full-size poster boards with actual candy and candy bars placed appropriately...

Dear "Sweethearts" Kim (and cats)

On this our "5th Avenue" -versary,
I would just like to say-
I love you more than all the stars in the "MilkyWay"

The day I met you was surely a "Skor"
And I'm hoping for many, many years more.

We are so different, but yet so in sync;
We're a "100 Grand" duo, don't you think?

You like soft fuzzy kittys, beer and "Reeses' peanut butter cups"
I like wine, "Snickers" and rowdy ole pups.

You like baseball and "Grand Slam" runs,
I like cooking and cinnamon buns.

I think "Baby Ruth" was a baseball great,
You think the Babe was really first rate.

I like to go on a shopping "Spree"
You like to gamble, but not without me!!!!

Sometimes you're quiet and others "Nutrageous,"
Funny, ambitious, timid and courageous.

I love you for all the things you are,
I love you more than a "KitKat" bar.

You are an "Almond Joy" to me
I love you, love you, don't you see?

As we pass through the "Symphony" of life,
I hope you see I will be a good wife.

As you will always be my "Mr. Goodbar"
And I love you more than my brand new car.

Sometimes life can be a "RockyRoad"
But know that I'll be there to help carry the load.

Your burdens are heavy so "Take 5" and a "Fast Break"
And enjoy your life, for Heaven's sake!

I'll make you Kahlua, you'll probably get drunk,
But I love you to pieces, my "Big Hunk."

So "Hugs" and "Kisses" you'll always get
For 60 anniversaries to come - on that you can bet.

From your "Bit-O-Honey,"
Laura

Free Christmas Cookie Recipes - My Christmas "Card" To You!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 17 Dec 2007 20:36:00 +0000

My friend and fellow writer, Jan McCracken wrote this charming (and free) Christmas cookie recipe book. Since I collaborated with her to turn it into an ebook, I wanted to offer it to all my friends and blog readers!

This colorful collection has some great and fun recipes, including one reputedly used by Laura Ingles Wilder herself! These are Jan's recipes and I put the ebook itself together. Hope you enjoy it!

Please download and share this ebook with friends and family, as my Christmas card to all of you!

Merriest of Christmases, happiest of holidays, and brightest of new years to you all!

~ Cherié

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration (aka, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas")

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 17 Dec 2007 07:00:00 +0000

I wish I knew the author of this piece, so I could give him or her proper credit. I have laughed and appreciated the cerebral humor of this version of the famous Christmas tale for several years now, and I wanted to share it here, with all of you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! ~ Cherié

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."

Thanksgiving Wishes

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 19:03:00 +0000

'Twas the night of Thanksgiving,
But I just couldn't sleep.
I tried counting backwards,
I tried counting sheep.

The leftovers beckoned -
The dark meat and white,
But I fought the temptation
With all of my might.

Tossing and turning
With anticipation,
The thought of a snack
Became infatuation.

So, I raced to the kitchen,
Flung open the door
And gazed at the fridge,
Full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey
And buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots,
Beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling
So plump and so round,
'Til all of a sudden,
I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling,
Floating into the sky
With a mouthful of pudding
And a handful of pie.

But I managed to yell
As I soared past the trees...
Happy eating to all -
Pass the cranberries, please!

(Author unknown, but she/he is thanked for this fun Thanksgiving message)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!

Would you like to come out and play?

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie' Davidson) — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 02:17:00 +0000

It was my pleasure to read and review the book, Which Is More Round, the World or Your Tummy?: Offbeat Reflections on Serious Living by author Leslie Miklosy. His work is really unique and a lot of fun. He recently sent me this essay he had written. It was published in the Saturday Extra, The Readers Write column, August 11, 2007, The Fayetteville (NC) Observer.

This delightful essay, Would you like to come out and play?, made me grin and giggle, and I thought you all might enjoy reading it, too. So, thanks to Leslie for giving me permission to post his work here. (If you like it, please check out his book at Amazon.com.)

Without further ado, I present, uncut and in its entirety, Would you like to come out and play? by Mr. Leslie Miklosy...

I have a confession to make: I’m a middle-aged fellow who likes to play. I will, for instance, while in the throes of a particular mood, pretend to lunge at our family dog. The dog — smart animal that he is — picks up on the counterfeit attack and off we go, enjoying our merry little dance.

Or maybe I’ll get into a verbal joust with a co-worker. Each of us will try to outdo and outwit the other. With a good repartee started, the rejoinders fly back and forth like Ping-Pong balls, to our mutual delight.

In many situations throughout the day, I’ll have occasion to meander, and duck, and twist and turn, bop and weave, turn inside out and stop on a dime.

There are infinite ways of expressing play. It can be its own activity, or it can simply be imbued in a context to make it “playful.”

There is solitary play (with or without imaginary friends) and communal play. You can break into song, do a little Irish jig or make faces in the mirror.

If you feel like it, you can have long, absurd conversations with yourself (wearing a phone earpiece in public, for the sanity police). With family, friends and foils, you can enact wondrous scenarios that cover the range of human experience — putting your own peculiar spin on them.

What is it about play that is so satisfying? Well, it’s fun, it’s creative, and it breaks — temporarily — those confining boundaries of serious reality.

Play uplifts and exercises; it regulates and displaces; it modifies and modulates. You can understate with it or exaggerate. You can explode a moment with a quip or go off on a long riff.

Play is about possibilities. It can contain — among other things — humor, surprise, mystery, whimsy and extravagance.

Play doesn’t need research, doesn’t need to be proven. It requires no down payment. It fits into small spaces, wears well and is highly portable. And it contains no calories.

Serious business needs to be taken seriously, of course, but a pause here and there — a little playing here and there — will take the enterprise of living further and farther, while keeping it from going afield. So let yourself be light of foot and spirit.

Next time there’s a knock on your door, and the tooth fairy, or Santa Claus, or the Jolly Green Giant says to you, “Can Mr. Silly come out and play?” be smart and say “Yes!”

Copyright 2007 - The Fayetteville (NC) Observer

Leslie Miklosy is the author of Which Is More Round, the World or Your Tummy?: Offbeat Reflections on Serious Living, a collection of his quirky, midlife thoughts on various aspects of the life journey. He occasionally writes inspirational essays, including, "Happiest day is the one that starts today" and "Don't let opportunity slip by -- live with gusto" (also published in The Readers Write columns in The Fayetteville Observer).