A Blog of Random Brain Excretions by a Smiling Writer

How Ticklish Are Your Feet?

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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

Happy Anniversary, Laura & Kim!

Dear Sweethearts Poem Copyright 2008 Judy Rebmann All rights reserved

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

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — 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') — 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') — 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') — 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).

Ode to Chocolate

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 00:42:00 +0000

Chocolate, oh chocolate,
The substance of love!

From the moment I smell you
Until you melt on my tongue
My mind is enraptured,
My soul it does sing,
My body thrills
To all chocolaty things.

My mental health,
My muse and my passion,
My favorite wealth.
Of no other fashion...

However could I love any other?

Chocolate, oh chocolate,
Life’s wonder of wonders.

© 2007 Original poetry found floating around within the cranial detritus of Cherié Davidson.

The Rules of Chocolate...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 02:57:00 +0000

I received this e-mail, and after reading it I realized, it's the Chocolate Guide no one should be without! Yep, I took it to heart and I live by these rules! So I post them here for you, too ~ Cherié (*wink wink*)

If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.

Chocolate is a health food. Chocolate is derived from cacao beans. Bean = vegetable. Sugar is derived either from sugar beets or cane, both vegetables. And, of course, the milk/cream is dairy. So eat more chocolate to meet the dietary requirements for daily vegetable intake.

Chocolate-covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.

The problem: How to get two pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.

Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite and you'll eat less.

A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Isn't that handy?

If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?

If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are notoriously afraid of heights and will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves.

Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger.

Why is there no such organization as Chocoholics Anonymous? Because no one wants to quit.

Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.

Money talks. Chocolate sings.

If...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 15:48:00 +0000

If you can start the day without caffeine,

If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,

If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time,

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can ignore a friend's limited education and never correct him,

If you can resist treating a rich friend better than a poor friend,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

...Then You Are Probably The Family Dog!

(Author unknown)

(Photo of Tucker The Beagle, courtesy of Stephen Oachs)

For those who love the philosophy of hypocrisy and ambiguity...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 16:54:00 +0000

Another amusing and dare I say, thought-provoking, e-mail to share... (where do they get this stuff?! LOL)

Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things.
One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor...
Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
If man evolved from monkeys and apes, why do we still have monkeys and apes?
I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, "Where's the self-help section?" She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.
What if there were no hypothetical questions?
If a deaf person swears, does his mother wash his hands with soap?
If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?
Is there another word for synonym?
Where do forest rangers go to "get away from it all?"
What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?
If a parsley farmer is sued, can they garnish his wages?
Would a fly without wings be called a walk?
Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?
If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked?
Can vegetarians eat animal crackers?
If the police arrest a mime, do they tell him he has the right to start speaking?
Why do they put Braille on the drive-through bank machines?
How do they get deer to cross the road only at those yellow road signs?
What was the best thing before sliced bread?
One nice thing about egotists: they don't talk about other people.
Does the Little Mermaid wear an algebra?
Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
How is it possible to have a civil war?
If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest drown, too?
If you ate both pasta and antipasto, would you still be hungry?
If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?
Whose cruel idea was it for the word "lisp" to have "s" in it?
Why are hemorrhoids called "hemorrhoids" instead of "assteroids"?
Why is it called tourist "season" if we can't shoot at them?
Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?
If you spin an oriental man in a circle three times does he become dis-oriented?
Can an atheist get insurance against acts of God?

100 Years Ago - How Things Have Changed!

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Sat, 14 Jul 2007 03:06:00 +0000

Yep, another e-mail I received that is just too interesting to send to the virtual round file...aren't you the lucky ones!

The average life expectancy in the U.S. was 47 years old.

Only 14 percent of the homes in the U.S. had a bathtub.

Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.

A three-minute call from Denver to New York City cost eleven dollars.

There were only 8,000 cars in the U.S., and only 144 miles of paved roads.

The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.

Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California.

With a mere 1.4 million people, California was only the 21st most populous state in the Union.

The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.

The average wage in the U.S. was 22 cents per hour.

The average U.S. worker made between $200 and $400 per year.

A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist made $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.

More than 95 percent of all births in the U.S. took place at HOME.

Ninety percent of all U.S. doctors had NO COLLEGE EDUCATION! Instead, they attended so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press AND the government as "substandard."

Sugar cost four cents a pound.

Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen.

Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.

Most women only washed their hair once a month, and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.

Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering into their country for any reason.

Five leading causes of death in the U.S. were:

Pneumonia and influenza
Tuberculosis
Diarrhea
Heart disease
Stroke

The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii, and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.

The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was only 30!!

Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and ice tea hadn't been invented yet.

There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.

Two out of every 10 U.S. adults couldn't read or write.

Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.

Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. Back then pharmacists said, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health."

There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.

~ What will the next 100 years bring?

my computer’s finds are nothing close to a pun…

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 02:03:00 +0000

An original sonnet by me.... The spell checker poem from earlier today reminded me of this little pastiche, which I wrote several years ago. I had a blast taking a Shakespeare sonnet and making it my own! I think most writers can identify with the sentiment!

my computer's finds are nothing close to a pun;

words are far more tread than tires are tread;

if fad be funny, why then, its humors are done;

if written in files, floppy disks pile up to my head.

I have seen writings brilliant, fun and bright,

but no such prose seen when at mine I peek;

and in other's writings is there more delight

than in the files that my computer keeps.

I have to write daily, yet well I know

that TV hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw Dave Barry go

to my files, never to look around.

And yet, by Heaven, I think my writings as rare

as any Erma Bombeck can compare.

This was my second pastiche; if I can dig up my very first one, which was an assignment for English Lit 101 many eons ago, I'll post it. (I can tell you're so excited to hear the news!) ~ Thanks for reading me!

© Cherié Davidson All rights reserved

A Little Poem Regarding Computer Spell Checkers...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 01:56:00 +0000

Oh my gosh! When I read this in my e-mail, I knew it would become part of the fabric of my very being. My thanks to the author, whoever you may be, for touching my soul! LOL!

Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.

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To The Mothers Who Drugged Us...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 01:47:00 +0000

[Yep, you guessed it, another e-mail message I felt compelled to share. ~ Cherié]

The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question, “Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?"

I replied, “I had a drug problem when I was young...

I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.

I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.

I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.

I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.

I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity.

I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flower beds and cockleburs out of dad's fields.

I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood; and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.”

Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.

God bless the parents who drugged us!

Thoughts for the day...

noreply@blogger.com (Cherie') — Sun, 13 May 2007 22:10:00 +0000

Another fun e-mail list to get the giggle machine activated...

1. Birds of a feather flock together and crap on your car.

2. There's always a lot to be thankful for if you take time to look for it. For example I am sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt.

3. When I'm feeling down, I like to whistle. It makes the neighbor's dog run to the end of his chain and gag himself.

4. If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.

5. Don't assume malice for what stupidity can explain.

6. A penny saved is a government oversight.

7. The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.

8. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight, because by then your body and your fat are really good friends.

9. The easiest way to find something lost around the house is to buy a replacement.

10. He who hesitates is probably right.

11. If you think there is good in everybody, you haven't met everybody.

12. If you can smile when things go wrong, you have someone in mind to blame.

13. The sole purpose of a child's middle name is so he can tell when he's really in trouble.