A Nice Place In The Sun

I Love Lucy

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 22:58:00 +0000

Cowboy Curtains

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 23:07:00 +0000

I awoke this morning with a burning sensation behind my eyelids, due to a desperate attempt to hold back tears. Tears I've held for sometime.

It was an early morning in December, one of my favorite seasons-
I recognized this feeling...I 'd felt it before- this was not my first wagon ride

I continued to close my eyes and think of my uncle's boyhood room, in addition to the smell of the honeysuckle vines in grandmothers yard, her dusty back porch, the clothesline, and talkative morning birds.

My heart dances when I remember waking up at my her house long ago...When my brother's and I spent the night with my grandmother, we awoke to the smell of bacon popping in a pan, homemade grape jam on toast, and the loudest birds I will ever hear again- I remember wondering how birds can understand each other, since they all chirp at once as they hop around in the morning dew.

I still what birds were gossiping about...but, they chirped so fast, that even if I could understand their language, their conversation would be impossible to follow.

Then, I laughed to myself, thinking about how children think, and was careful not to open my eyes, that way it would be easier to let my mind wander back into yesterday.

I remembered my grandmother laughing at my son's Golden Retriever, Wendy, when she raced squirrels from tree limb to tree limb, encircled the tree's trunk, followed by jumping toward the sky hoping a squirrel would lose their balance and fall. I started to laugh again, but suppressed it...and I'm not sure why-

I wished I was nine again, and squeezed my eyes together tight, willing the past to remain clear in my mind. Then, the sounds of the world waking up interrupted my trance, and I knew I would have to open my eyes sometime.

As a matter of fact, I knew that "sometime" was around the corner, because I had to wipe the tears that were sliding down my cheeks like rainwater. Why was I crying?- It was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling as though I were awaiting an unwelcome visitor- Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, one of my my favorite seasons-
So, I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before I met the day.

I kept my eyes closed and began to think of the cowboy curtains in my uncle's boyhood room, in addition to the smell of the honeysuckle vines in grandmothers yard, her dusty back porch, the clothesline, and talkative morning birds.

My heart dances when I remember waking up at her house long ago...When my brother's and I spent the night with my grandmother, we awoke to the smell of bacon popping in a pan, homemade grape jam on toast, and the loudest birds I will ever hear again-

I still wonder what birds are gossiping about...but, they chirp so fast, that even if I could understand their language, their conversation would be impossible to follow.

Then, I laughed to myself, thinking about how children think, and was careful not to open my eyes, that way it would be easier to let my mind wander back into yesterday.

I remembered my grandmother laughing at my son's Golden Retriever, Wendy, when she raced squirrels from tree limb to tree limb, encircled the tree's trunk, followed by jumping toward the sky hoping a squirrel would lose their balance and fall. I started to laugh again, but suppressed it...and I'm not sure why-

I wished I was nine again, and squeezed my eyes together tight, willing the past to remain clear in my mind. Then, the sounds of the world waking up interrupted my trance, and I knew I would have to open my eyes sometime.

As a matter of fact, I knew that "sometime" was around the corner, because I had to wipe the tears that were sliding down my face like rainwater. Why was I crying? It was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling as though I were awaiting an unwelcome visitor- Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, one of my favorite seasons-
So, I shrugged off the feeling, and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before I met the day.

I always project myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day of winter, I didn't think of the summer, I thought of those cowboy curtains...

In addition to the comforting sounds rich in my Southern environment-

The agricultural climate in the south blends into your senses and becomes a part of who you are, and what you will remember for a lifetime.

I can still smell the honeysuckle vines I pulled from my grandmother’s Azalea bushes, as well as hear the crickets' sing at night.

My grandmother lived close to a train track, hence, I can remember listening to the chirping rhythm of crickets, in addition to the thunderous roar of an occasional train rumbling down the track.

This was a heavenly daydream, so kept my eyes closed, and melted into the memories; thinking of the cowboy's on the curtains that blew away from the open window above my head.

I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night, so that I could watch the moonlight dance on the cowboys shadows, and blend into my hopes and dreams as the drapes floated toward the dark sky.

It seemed as if the moonlight showed up to shine light on the these characters and their horses. My youthful imagination created a picture of living cowboy's in the drawings. Actually, they really looked alive when the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth in the moonlight- it was like watching my own private screening from a time that passed me by long ago-

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who share the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, or rope any calf, gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I.

But today, when I close my eyes, I will let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside those sleepy drapes from long ago.

Because, after all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first wagon ride, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

I will think of cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandparents, my golden retriever...a cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

Then I'll open my eyes...and begin a new day-

Fasten Your Seatbelts. It's Going To Be a Bumpy Night (Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment)

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 11:54:00 +0000

This scene is from All About Eve, starring the great Bette Davis, with Thelma Ritter as Birdie, Margo's housekeeper, and Celeste Holm, as Karen Richards, Margo's best friend.

Happy Saturday! Welcome to Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment.

This Saturday is the first Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment, I've published in close to a year, and I can believe it. All day today, I've been trying to figure out why the links in my post highlight to Bloggers regular blue color, but then when I publish the post, the color disappears.

In addition, I cannot find out where to change the fonts period- I am lost-

Although, "I can't think about that right now. If I do I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow." Can you guess what movie made that quote famous?

Anyway, if I do not figure out how to change the font colors on my blog soon, "I'll go crazy." Hence, I've asked myself the same question I asked myself all year.

"Is it over, or is it just beginning?" (All About Eve) Did Blogger change their font design that much, or is the question so easy, there isn't an answer? Who knows?

But I had to "fasten my seatbelt," 'cause I had "a bumpy night."

I'm sorry I'm behind on my blog visits, but I'm sure I'll bump into ya sometime today.

Until then, have a happy happy Saturday! And be aware of "bumpy nights."

The Authorites Found The Runaway Link

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 07:07:00 +0000

We found the runaway link! He looks scared, doesn't he?

Oh, I had trouble trouble, trouble, posting Tuesday's Question yesterday. I felt like I was driving down the road the wrong way, and the cars going the right way were speeding toward me. I just love it when that happens, people begin rolling down their car windows, asking, "Hey lady, what do you think you're doing?"

(Well, now, let's see, do I look like I know what I'm doing?) I cannot stand it when people ask questions when they already know the answer, just to make someone feel bad, and make the world harder.

Anyway, my computer was running as slow as a doodle bug up running up an anthill, as well as my brain, and, everything I tried to write came out discombobulated. The title listed on the permalink to one of my old posts was incorrect, and I didn't know why, and I couldn't link to my old post pages or Sandee's...and then the sun shined on my shoulders and I managed to link to the posts, but they wouldn't highlight.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland again, but since the links were sort of working, I thought, well, I can deal with this, (Although I still hadn't the slightest idea how...)

In any event, I went to the post on Sandee's blog that I wanted to link to...and I could not find the page anymore, not anywhere, not on her blog, not on my blog, it just disappeared into thin air.

I realize you will have to read yesterday's post to understand this post, but if you wish to answer Tuesday's Question or already have, please read it. Because we can celebrate the fact that we caught a runaway post link; we just cannot let these posts think they can easily run away with the link to their page. We would have a real internet crisis on our hands if that happened.

In any event, thanks to the authorities we found the runaway post to "Show And Tell Annie's Style" on Comedy Plus that was so funny I made one of my questions on this post similar so that I could link to it.

I also found the post I wrote that Sandee was referencing, but I didn't remember it...both of them have hilarious pictures of bloggers in rare form, so they're worth reading, just for the laugh.

I had to bribe the post for the link, but here's the link to Sandee's post: Show And Tell Annie's Style post.

And here is the link to the page with my post, Bloggers show and Tell their Fashion Disasters from the Past

We Have Two Tuesday's Questions Today!

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 19:33:00 +0000

READ BLOGGERS ANSWERS AT THE END OF THE POST

Hello! Welcome to Tuesday's Question. We have two questions for you today. The first one is...

What was your worst fashion disaster? Ex: Once I went to work with two different types of earrings on, and yesterday when I was in the grocery store, I heard a lady laughing, and when I asked her why she was laughing, she said; "Because when I left home, I didn't realize I was wearing house slippers!" And...

Who Was Your Worst Boss? ...

The reason I have two questions today, is because I already planned on posting the, 'Who Was Your Worst Boss question, but since I've been offline for awhile, I started reading old buddies blogs yesterday when I came across an hilarious post from my friend Sandee, the owner and administrator of Comedy Plus

You see, the post I read was in response to a question similar to this one, hence, I wanted to share the link to the post with you, however the strangest thing happened. I was going to ask you to click on the permalink to the post I read, but I cannot find it. I found it earlier, but when I finally had the chance to link it, the post disappeared. Can you believe that?

I had it earlier, but with all the problems I've had with this post today, I cannot say that I blame the post for running away, and it has disappeared. In addition the links I have for Comedy Plus and 'My First Job' will not light up, which is another mystery. Therefore, just click on the name Comedy Plus, and it will take you to Comedy Plus. It lights up while you're composing the post, but not after its published.

Now, as far as an example of your nastiest boss, you probably do not need one, but in case you do, just click the title of my post about, My First Job, which in addition to not lighting up, has the wrong title on the permalink, but, in any event, it will take you to the post, and you'll get the picture about horrific bosses.

Feel free to answer one or both questions, whichever suits your fancy.

In closing, in case you're not familiar with Tuesday's Question, or you haven't participated, (although I know it's pretty self-explanatory) there's one thing, well, a few, you should know.

I will copy your answer, and paste it within this post, (that is, if you're not afraid it will also runaway) then link the post back to your blog. Therefore, by the end of the day, you can read your answers in the post, have a link to your blog, and enjoy the answers from other bloggers.

The point is to learn about each other, laugh, and have a great time. Thanks for commenting, and have a fabulous day! And if you have fun, please return next week to answer another Tuesday's Question.

At the bottom of this post is a drawing of a blogger, and a link to Tuesday's Question's address, just in case you get lost, or want to tell others about how much fun you had answering Tuesday's Question.

Feel free to place him on your blog, address book, refrigerator, card windshield, anywhere....:) That way everyone knows that you answered Tuesday's Question, and where they can find your answer. :)
I'm looking forward to your answers~

Note to readers,

Thank you for putting up with the mistakes and technical problems I've spent the day ironing out. It's amazing how much you can forget in such a short period of time. Blogging is sure a far cry from writing a query letter, manuscript, or submitting an article to a magazine. It's as if I'm learning all over again.

And to my most loyal fellow bloggers and friends who have already answered a question, I'm finally going to have a chance to read and post them. I cannot wait!

The first blogger to answer Tuesday's Question was Grace from ">Today's Conversation
Black and White Upon the Page

and Dragon's Alley

Grace answered the question about dreadful bosses, and I thought I would never stop laughing; and I'm not just saying that. Here's Graces answer:

Can't say as I've had any fashion disasters - perhaps clothes that didn't fit me as well as they should (too big) but not enough so anyone noticed.

Horrible bosses? Whoa, a few of those. the guy who barely spoke English and seemed rather pleased that he was a totally disorganized slob. I do mean slob. He would sit at his desk and eat fruit all day and throw the detritus on the floor - like inches away from the waste basket. Ewww!

Or the woman who was an "outer directed" person - meaning nothing was ever her fault even when she was the only one involved. Like the time she pulled her car into the company parking lot, got out without turning the car off or setting the emergency break - it wasn't her fault when it rolled backwards and smashed into another car. Now take THAT attitude and apply it to running a business.

I've got a few more but so you really want to know?

Sandee from Comedy Plus also answered the question about the nastiest bosses:

I can't think of any fashion disasters unless you want to talk about the clothing of the 80s and I don't, so I'll answer the last question since the list is pretty long.

I had a lieutenant once that would do my job for me. I would plan out the day and assigns deputies to certain details and if they didn't want to do that detail they would go to the lieutenant and he would change everything around to make all the deputies happy. It wasn't making me too happy though. I asked him not to do that but he just kept right on changing things. So, I took of my sergeants strips and gave them to him as it seems unfair for me to get paid as a sergeant when he was doing all the work. That fixed the problem once and for all. He just was a miserable lieutenant and I was so glad when he finally got transferred.

Have a terrific day and thanks for the shout-out. Hugs. :)

Thanks to both of you for such great answers! Keep them coming...

Pam from Finding Pam answered the question about her worst boss: Read this, it's hilarious, and don't forget to follow this link to Finding Pam, you'll enjoy the read.

Here's Pam's answer:

Annie, it is great to see a post from you. I know what you mean about having to learn your computer all over again.

My worst boss ever was a crazy red headed lady that owned a flower shop. It was my first time to work in flowers in a professional way. I was hired to deliver flowers.

This boss had some real mental problems. She loved to go to the grocery store in her big hairy bear claw slippers with her fur coat. She wore little or next to nothing underneath. She could smooze with the rich folks and cuss like a sailor at the same time. Very to the point and not discreet, if you know what I mean.

She was a total wack job. One minute crazy and the next minute she was super duper crazy. She and her hubs fought all the time. Once she left with her bear claw slippers and fur coat and headed North. It was a year before we ever saw her again. She pretended that she did all the designs to her customers. I guess her employees were her wait staff. LOL!

Take care and I look forward to reading more post.

To My Heroes... Featuring, Cowboy Curtains

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 10:38:00 +0000

This is the third time I've posted Cowboy Curtains, which a sleepy little post I wrote early one morning before my eyes were focused, but it turned to be popular among some childhood friends. Which I believe was due to the fact that they remember the room I used for the imagery. This past year has been a difficult one for me, because many of the people I met at the age of twelve passed away. Therefore before posting my 'comeback post' I decided to post Cowboy Curtains again for them.

Then, in the process of writing a comeback post over the last few days, I realized that I had already posted Cowboy Curtains earlier last year, at the urging of a friend who wanted to honor a mutual friend who enjoyed the post, and I'm so glad I did, because just last month, she lost her life as well.

Therefore, I decided to attach a different name and note with this post, because even if I put it in draft, it might cause some confusion...For example, some people might wonder, "What is going on with this lady? Doesn't she realize that she's posted that post a hundred times, she must really like it.

So, yes, I realize that my sleepy post has been published three times, but my dear friends liked it, and this is my last gift to them, besides love, in addition to the eternal gratitude I have for the laughs, jokes, promises, secrets, love, and trust you gave me most of your lives.

I'm working my way back to the world, and I'm sorry I disappeared. I just needed some time.The moments I shared with my rowdy crowd were too brief...any yet we lived a lifetime together, so you see, I need them to help me pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

I keep asking, "Did this really happen? In such a short period of time? One of the kindred spirits I lost was a dear man to me, who left his laughter, smile and mischievous nature in our memories. I will not forget his words, the sound of his voice and his shiny bright heart.

In closing, thank you for your patience today, and throughout this past year, and I'm looking forward to posting again soon. I'm working on a return post, writing again, and looking forward to reading your blogs; I cannot wait to catch up with you and find out whats happening in your world. .

Don't forget to read Cowboy Curtains. Just click 'Read More' Below this poor cowboy~

Cowboy Curtains

I felt tears in my eyes before I opened them this morning, but, I wanted to hold them back, so I squeezed my eyes together until my eyelids started burning- I didn't want to wake up crying-

It was an early December morning, my favorite season- and I wondered why I had tears in my eyes- However, I knew I didn’t want to open them-

I recognized a feeling...as one I had known before- this was not my first walk in the park. I wanted to keep my eyes closed and think of the cowboy curtains on my grandmothers drapes, the honeysuckle vines in her yard, my grandmother, and my golden retriever...
In addition, if I opened my eyes, I might lose the ability to smell honeysuckle-

I wished I was nine again and continued squeezing my eyes tight, regardless of how much they burned, that way I could stay in the moment longer, although I knew I had to open them at some point.

For one thing, I had to wipe the tears before they drew lines on my face, that way I could disguise the fact that I'd been crying...Besides, I didn't have an explanation for why those tears returned- they were a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling as if an unwelcome visitor had returned to my door. Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, my favorite season-
So I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before opening my eyes to today's reality.

I always project myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day in winter, I didn't think of the summer, I thought of cowboy curtains...

I remembered the cowboy curtains that hung in my uncle’s boyhood room at my grandmother’s house. They always smelled good, probably because they dried clinging to a clothesline on breezy afternoons.

It felt good to think about the smells and sounds rich in a Southern environment- I kept my eyes closed, and remembered the lasting impression my grandmothers five hundred year old Oak tree left on my soul, and then I thought about the hundreds of souls who were already acquainted with this same tree. I wondered how many friends this tree must have known throughout the years, and how many stories he had to tell.

Sometimes, I draw upon my southern heritage for comfort when I’m having trouble with life's harsh realities. And I’m happy I can still smell the honeysuckle vines I pulled from my grandmother’s Azalea bushes, as well as hear the crickets' sing at night.

The sound of crickets are entrenched in my mind, chirping in a rhythm I miss when I'm away...

I remember crickets singing when I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night; and I remember watching the moonlight shine on the shadows as the drapes floated on the breeze away from the window...

It was as if the moonlight showed up to tell a story of cowboys and their horses. The cowboy drawings looked alive when the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth-Therefore, it was easy to imagine real cowboys roping, laughing, and branding cows beyond what would be a dusty curtain. I wished the tiny wranglers I envisioned were real, and sometimes gave them names, histories, and character.

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who share the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, or rope any calf, gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I...

But today, I let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside the breezy drapes of long ago.

After all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first walk in the park, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

I will think of my son, cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandmother, my retriever...a cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

Then I'll open my eyes...and begin a new day-

Heaven On Earth

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Wed, 15 Dec 2010 16:40:00 +0000

My grandmother, Nana, tortured her grandchildren and neighbors by taking outside showers, well, that is, until the shower broke, and she couldn't find a person within miles to fix it. The shower or pipe stood about five long, with a shower head on it, and a place where you could attach a hose on the side, like a shower/water faucet combination.

There was a concrete floor under the shower so your feet didn't sink in the grass and form a muddy mess while you bathed.

My grandmother's property was in an old neighborhood that accommodated the new world: for instance, her garden and ancient outside shower were next door to her neighbor’s tennis court and paved circular driveway, whereas, Nana’s circular drive was gravel. However, the ingredients of the old and new worlds did coexist, at least as far as location was concerned, because sandwiched between Nana's back porch and the neighbor’s back door stood the outside shower. Although, there were hedges between my grandmothers garden, shower, and the neighbors tennis courts, they served as natures curtain, perfect for curious children and peeping Toms, but they didn't offer much in the way of privacy to anyone else.

Although, we all played in the water pipe/shower, especially in the summer, and Nana occasionally took a shower, the outside water hose/pipe/shower, also functioned as a water supply to the garden and the rest of the side yard, when necessary.

My grandmother never understood why her grandchildren refused to take an outside shower, although, I think she did notice how eager we were to take an inside bath anytime. It wasn’t the fact that Nana took an outside bath that was the problem, our embarrassment was due to the neighbors clear view of her at their breakfast table. In other words, she could never grasp the fact that the people next door may not wish to view her soap her body, underwear or not, in the gleaming sun while they drank their morning coffee.

When her neighbors began to complain about their view from the breakfast table, we took it as one of the first clues that the best of both worlds were going to collide- It was just a matter of time-

I will never forget the evening we received our next clue...It is an evening that will rest with me until the end of my days:

I heard my older brother from Nana's back porch screaming, as if bitten by a snake, “Nana! Please stop!” he yelled, however impossible it was that she might hear, “I swear Nana, I’m never coming over here again if you don’t stop! Mr. Coors (her neighbor) is having a tennis party next door for some of his friends at the Country Club! They can see you, Nana!” he screamed so loud, you could see veins popping out of his neck.
“They are watching you as we speak!”

I saw my brother jumping up and down waving his hands at my grandmother, while she slowly lathered the shampoo in her hair, oblivious to his shrieking! (Or pretending she was-)

My eyes followed my brother, who ran from the back porch to my grandmother's garden generating the attention of the tennis party next door from waving his hands back and forth, and jumping up and down in the the middle of the tomatoes; hence, the red juice from the fruit was splashing up in the air like fireworks on the fourth of July, and to top it off the garden was adjacent to my grandmother’s backyard shower and the neighbors tennis court.

Picture this image: My grandmothers neighbors guests playing tennis next door at their party, Nana's garden, my brother jumping up and down screaming, and my grandmother gently lathering her hair. I stood on her back porch wishing a nice family would rescue me from the insane one to which I had been born.

Although, now when I recall those memories I'm grateful our minds are capable of recording moments experienced long ago, because I can replay the voice and character of my best friend, who was also my grandmother, Nana. So often we forget the impact our family members have on our lives, until we think of a song, smell, or see something like an outside shower to help us remember a moment shared long ago.

Nana passed away eight years ago, and I still recall this shower drama as if it were yesterday. I hope that when we remember a shared experience of long ago that the ones we've lost remember it too- that would be my idea of heaven on earth.

I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 12:29:00 +0000

A special note to my readers at the end of the post~

I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair!

I looked in the mirror after showering today, and saw the first few strands of old lady hair, well actually, white grays that used to be blond. I think of things out of the ordinary in the shower and today wasn’t any different. Today, I sang the song, I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair, from the movie South Pacific, and thought about my past. And my past includes my ex-husband, who I think about every time I hear that song. I imagine washing him out of my hair, then watching him swirl down the bathtub drain in circular motion.

I considered other song titles that would also work nicely, such as, "I ’m gonna cram that man right down the tub drain," or "toss his bags right out the front door"...but I didn’t want to bore anyone with them....

This morning, I contemplated how joyful it would be to have magical powers, like Samantha (Elizabeth Montgomery) Stevens had on the Bewitched Show. A few minutes with super power is all the time I need to shrink my ex. to the size of Stuart Little, like "Endora" (Sam’s mother) did to Darin (Dick York) on the Bewitched show. I laughed to myself at the thought of my downsized ex-husband.

Whose name I can’t use, by the way, because it's redundant and he may sue me for Simon. (My cat) (Or worse, my money.) Hence, I will also call my ex "Dagwood," but I'll give him a name before the end of this post, I promise. .

I loved the Bewitched Show because it was a show about a woman witch. Anyway, I hope you are familiar with the comedy. If you're not, the leading characters mother referred to her son- in -law as "Dagwood" instead of calling him by his real name, which was "Darin," and I always loved that.

Moving on, today I thought about my "Dagwood" as I looked in the mirror at my "new" grays. You see, I blame him for them. Yep, it's his fault I have gray hair. Oh, I wish I could magically twinkle him into a tiny little man and watch him go down the drain.

I would love to see him swirling in a tiny tub tornado. But, that's not the best part. The best part is the thought of him calling out to me in a small voice...."Help me Annie, hon----ey, wha...in-the... Annie?"

I considered other song titles that would also work nicely with South Pacific's soundtrack, such as, "I ’m gonna cram that man down the tub drain," or "toss his bags right out the front door"..but, I didn’t want to begin boring people....

Actually, to be honest, I can’t wash any of the Dagwoods out of my hair, head, or heart.
I don't have dreams about past relationships often, or at least I don't think I do, if I do, I don't recall them. Besides, whatever I dream at night sticks in a corner of my brain and blends into a daydream the following day. I wonder if there is a reason for that? Perhaps, I'm blocking them out, or keeping myself at a distance...oh, I don't know...men are just a pain in the butt...and they give you gray hair.

Alright, that was just a moment given over by the fact that I woke up with a weary subconscious; and its as if I'm still dreaming. I've been hit by the waves of nostalgia that stay in your brain long after some relationships are over...and a few of them stayed drenched in memory- soaked- far away from now and the future...

Hence, the safest thing I could do at this point is to think of watching Dagwood twirl down the drain as well as the dance floor.

O.K. what was my topic? Oh yes, yesterday memories, and washing men out of my hair. I'm sorry, I was half awake when I started this post. That is what I love about blogging, I have time to regroup, sort of-

In any event, I don’t think you ever get pass some loves, no matter how many times you flush them down the drain.. And sometimes more than one love will remain transfixed in your head, memories, and heart; it's just unfortunate that there are times when love doesn't have anything to do with it.

In closing, I will admit to a make up, then break up relationships.. I wash him down the drain and out of my hair frequently, although I do hope I will wash him out of my hair less frequently over time.

I guess I should give him his own official name, hmmm, I know, it's Driftwood. Yes, from now on, the man I have twirling in a tiny tub tornado, will be nicknamed, "Driftwood."

And I hope that Driftwood will be the last man to bite the dust, spin in the wash, or encircle the drain. Because, I'm getting tired of washing men out of my hair, and depending on how much they mean to you, a girl can go through an awful lot of conditioner.

Link to Dick York Image from google images. Stuarts image is from Revolutionary links

As some of you know, I fainted due to the worst respiratory infection I've ever experienced, and ended up missing last Tuesday's Question, in addition to the rest of the work I had last week. Evidently, I fainted because I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my lungs, due to the infection, hence, my doctors are trying a new medicine, so I shouldn't find myself laying on the kitchen floor anytime soon, and that's a good thing, right?

Anyway, thanks to all of you (I know who you are) who asked about me, and then returned to see how I was doing...your words made a huge difference in my life. You might not think you are making people feel better by writing a few words, but never forget what an impact your words and friendship have on the attitude of others.

Hence, this week I'm going to make it up to you by posting two popular posts, a new post, and a surprise post by this week-end. I hope you will enjoy today's post, whether you've read it before or not, and I will post another one tomorrow. Although, right now, I'm going back to bed...Have a great day and I'll see you tomorrow.

Cowboy Curtains

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 08:52:00 +0000

I could feel tears in my eyes before I opened them this morning, so I kept them closed...

It was an early morning in December, my favorite season- so I wondered why I woke up teary eyed-

Although, I did recognize a warm feeling...It had a conflicting ring to it, one you never forget; because you feel great, yet confused about how to identify your emotions.

I wanted to keep my eyes closed and think of the cowboy curtains on my grandmothers drapes, the smell of honeysuckle vines in her yard, her dusty back porch, the clothesline, and the talkative morning birds.

My heart sings when I remember waking up at my grandmothers house long ago...It was a time when I awoke to the smell of bacon frying, homemade grape jam on toast, and loud birds chirping outside the window; I was curious about their conversation as they picked their way through the morning dew...

I imagined what they were gossiping about...but, they chirped so fast, that even if I could understand their language, their conversation would be impossible to follow.

I laughed to myself, thinking about how children think, and was careful not to open my eyes as my mind wandered back into yesterday. I remembered my grandmother laughing at my son's Golden Retriever, Wendy, as she raced squirrels from tree limb to tree limb, encircled the tree's trunk, and jumped toward the sky hoping a squirrel would lose their balance and fall. I started to laugh again, but suppressed it...

Because, I still wasn't ready to open my eyes...

I wished I was nine years old, and squeezed my eyes together tight, that way I could stay in the moment a while longer, although I knew I had to open them sometime.

As a matter of fact, I knew that "sometime" was around the corner, because I had to wipe the tears that were sliding down my cheeks; before they drew lines on my face- Why was I crying?- It was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling as if I were awaiting an unwelcome visitor- Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, my favorite season-
So I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before I opened my eyes.

I always project myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day of winter, I didn't think of the summer, I thought of cowboy curtains...

I thought again about the cowboy curtains that hung in my uncle’s boyhood room at my grandmother’s house. They smelled good, probably because they dried clinging to the clothesline on breezy spring afternoons.

It felt good to think about the smells and sounds rich in my Southern environment- and the lasting impression my grandmothers five hundred year old Oak left upon the recesses of my soul.

The agricultural climate in the south blends into your senses and becomes a part of who you are, and what you will remember for a lifetime.

Sometimes, I draw upon my heritage for comfort when I’m having trouble with life's harsh realities. And I’m happy I can still smell the honeysuckle vines I pulled from my grandmother’s Azalea bushes, as well as hear the crickets' sing at night.

The sound of crickets are entrenched in my mind, chirping in a rhythm I miss when I'm away...

I remember crickets singing when I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night- and watching the moonlight shine on the cowboys shadows as the drapes floated on the breeze away from the window...

It seemed as if the moonlight showed up to shine light on the story of these cowboys and their horses. The cowboy drawings looked alive as the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth in the moonlight- it was like watching my own private rodeo-

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who share the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, or rope any calf, gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I...

But today, when I close my eyes, I let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside the breezy drapes of long ago.

Because, after all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first wagon ride, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

I will think of cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandparents, my golden retriever...a long cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

Then I'll open my eyes...and begin a new day-

What is The Worst Hangover You've Ever Had? (Tuesday's Question)

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 03:32:00 +0000

Bloggers answers are coming in...they're posted at the end of this post~ If you wish, you can pass over the first part of this post, click on "Read More," and read some great answers!

I wonder how many people have said, "What did we do last night?" after the sun comes up the morning? I mean, people who have tied one on the night before.......laughing...Oh, it is the worst feeling, emotionally as well as physically, even if you did have a blast the night before.

Kris Kristofferson articulated it perfectly in the lyrics of one of his greatest songs, "Sunday Morning Coming Down." Because when you wake up after being intoxicated, it's scary to realize that the world twirls just as fast without you-

Hence, I don't think anyone says it better than Kris...

This Tuesday's Question is, What is the worst hangover or drunken episode you've ever experienced?

This is the first Tuesday's Question I've answered in some time, but I thought it was only fair that I answer this one, if I was going to ask you too-

Two things made me think of asking this question today, one was the upcoming holidays, and when an old friend contacted me on Facebook it reminded me of old memories.

It was great to hear from her because we've been close friends for decades, in fact the following story I'm about to tell you took place a decade ago. Well now, you may be wondering why a close friend would have to find me on Facebook.

It's because she remarried and moved to another city, and in that time we lost contact with each other like people sometimes do. So, again, I was delighted to hear from her, as well as a mutual friend of ours, who helped me reach back in time, since she joined us on many of our late night adventures.

However, before I move on...I would like to welcome everyone to Tuesday's Question, and say that I decided to post a lighter question this week, but I didn't want to glamorize alcohol so it took me all morning to find the right graphic.

But, don't get me wrong, I come from a long line of Irish Americans, so I have always loved to drink...it's getting drunk that's not worth it, although, it took me a while to learn to say goodbye to drinking, at least to the point of drunkenness.

Everything is better in moderation, and although this Tuesday's Question is written to remember times that were funny, and to learn more about all of you, please take note that I am in no way condoning alcohol abuse.

O.K. now that I'm finished preaching to my younger, and perhaps, older readers, lets have some fun...

My worst hangover was awful, however, if I hadn't been polluted the night before, I might not have been able to handle the bizarre circumstances we found ourselves in that evening.

My friend and I were at home with Children on a constant basis, which was great, but there were times when we simply had to get out of the house or we would lose our minds. We met at a time when we both needed something from the other, even if it was just another woman to understand what we were going through…and offer a friendly ear.

So one evening we set out to have a good time, leaving our children with their fathers and babysitters. We were just going to have a few daiquiri s at a daiquiri bar, but we ended up helping the bar owner close his establishment. We were so far gone by the time we left the place, I'm not sure why they let us drive, except for the fact that they were just as intoxicated.

This was in the days of no cell phones, so after the bar closed we didn’t have a way to call anyone to pick us up either, so we were stuck.

Hence, off we went, I backed the car out of the parking lot, and proceeded to weave my way home.
It was in the middle of the night, so I could barely open my eyes, I felt like I had heavy stones on my eyelids, or a glob of cement glue stuck to my eye lashes, and the reflection from the car lights ahead of us made it worse, I was about to say, “---- do you think maybe you should drive?”

But, immediately after the words left my mouth, we heard police sirens…I thought, well, this is just great, mainly because my father was The Chief of Detectives in our city, and I knew he would make me spend a few days in jail even if a Judge let us go... I wanted to speed up and try to out- run them, (smart) but thank goodness, I still had some of my wits about me.

So instead of trying to out run the police car, we pulled over to the shoulder of the highway, switched seats, and stopped- I'm not sure why they didn’t see us switch seats, but they didn’t- Hence, as a result, I was sitting on the passenger side when the officers approached the car.

First they asked my friend to step out of the car and show them her drivers license, car registration, and insurance, which, with the exception of her license was in my name. I sat in the car quietly praying that I was having a bad dream, and thinking about how awful it would be if my father showed up…

Then, while I felt my heart ricocheting against my chest wall, I heard the Sergent ask why the registration and insurance were in my name, but before I could collect myself, the other officer began tapping on my window, so I rolled it down, and when I did, he stuck his head in the window and began to kiss me!

I heard my friend and the other officer screaming, “What in the world are ya’ll doing?”
It was the weirdest thing…but I was so drunk that I actually believed his compliments, and continued to kiss him through the passenger side door! We kept kissing through my friend’s laughter, and my friend kept laughing while the other officer read her the Miranda Warning!

I think it took a few minutes for the Sgt. (the other officers’ boss) to realize what was happening, but when he did, his physical appearance changed. He reminded me of the handsome prince who chanced into a frog, instead of the other way around; all of a sudden this nice looking gentleman transformed into a big mad dragon with bluish smoke shooting out of his ears - I’m not kidding that’s what he looked like- Further more, as if by magic, he began to huff and puff about bringing us to jail despite our display of affection.

My friend was laughing…but the Sgt. who was “Romeo’s” boss was furious…he ran up to Romeo and pulled him into the front of their squad car, while we sat in the back unsure of what was going to happen next.

We could hear Romeo talking to the dragon, but we couldn’t make out what they were saying, so we waited in the car for what seemed like hours.

Then, we heard the dragon lecturing Romeo, although we still couldn't hear everything they were saying, (And don't ask me why, but I felt a little sorry for Romeo, because he must have had something wrong with his impulse control or he was drinking himself) until they got out of the police car…then we could hear them loud and clear. The sergeant said,

“I hope you know that now we have to let them go."

Then he added, “What is wrong with you? What are we going to do now? I hope you realize that we also have to give them a ride home.”

By this time, it was hard not to jump up and down with relief, although we were scared to count our chickens before they hatched.

Then, I heard Romeo say, “Well, Sarge, since we’re bringing them home and they’re not charged with anything…” I could feel the tension between him and his boss hanging in the air like moss on a vine...and I knew what was coming.

Only, I hoped I was wrong, I hoped I hadn't given Romeo more credit than he deserved-But, apparently I did, because instead of turning away from his Sgt. who glared at him with glassy eyes, he stopped in front of the sergeant and said,

“Well, I just thought that since everything turned out alright, that maybe I could ask one of them for their phone number? “

To this day I wonder what could have been wrong with that officer, I mean at least I was young, drunk and incarcerated-

In any event, to end this story quickly ...Romeo never called, and the following “Sunday Morning” came down on us like a hail storm- It was a nightmare.

This Sunday morning we were so hung over that we could barely peel ourselves off of the floor to take care of our children…and our husbands or rather her husband, actually filmed us unable to move on her living room floor. We were convinced we were going to die…Consequently, that is the last time I had more than one daiquiri or more than one anything for a long time.

Now it is your turn, "What is the worst hangover or drunken episode you've ever experienced?"

And here is the brief synopsis I promised to those of you who are unfamiliar with Tuesday's Question.

I post a weekly question called Tuesday's Question, and if you wish, you can answer it in comments. Then, I will publish your answers within my blog post, with a link to your blog...
That way, bloggers who haven't had a chance to meet each other will have an opportunity to do so; and if you like a bloggers answer, your chances are good that you will like their blog as well.

In addition, I wanted to let all of you who answered last weeks question know that I haven't forgotten to add your answers to the post with a link to your blog. I've just been running behind...

Unbelievably, I’m rewriting a children’s book, which I’m wildly excited about, so I need to start managing my time better. And I promise once it's on the shelf, you will get free copies!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy today’s question, because I know I will enjoy your answers.

By the way, I have been receiving compliments on how much people love your answers.
In addition, my numbers are high each time I post Tuesday’s Question…So I wanted to tell ya’ll that you have fans! I hope they are following your links- In addition; I have an upcoming award for everyone who has been loyal to Tuesday’s Question, as well as A Nice Place In The Sun.

I just have to track down my graphic artist to create the award.

Forgive me for posting Tuesday's Question so late today...I couldn't believe what time it was when I looked at my watch...and look out, because I didn't even have a chance to edit it.

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Alright, here's the question again, What is the worst hangover or drunken episode you've ever experienced?
The first blogger to answer is Grace from Hugz Before You Go, who said,

Can't help you with this one cookie. While there have been a few occasions when I drank more than I should have and did foolish things while under the influence I never woke up the next day with any ill effects. Unless you count remembering every foolish (embarrassing) thing I did the night before. Total recall is a bitch!

And then Grace returned with more to add to her answer, so since she is a loyal Tuesday's Question supporter and friend, I couldn't help but post both comments: Grace is from Hugz Before You Go

Here's Graces answer,
Well your story was funny and a tad weird LOL I drink too much I just barf and then I am right as rain. Mostly, under the influence, I just say the first thing that crosses my mind. Embarrassing but not fatal - lots of laughs for everyone but me!

Multi-tasking is just having several projects underway at the same time - set priorities and let it it fly!
Thank you, Buddy...

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The next answer is from Sandee at Comedy Plus
who left another great comment, and don't forget to follow her link for more laughs...

Oh this is an easy question. I was also young and foolish and didn't know about drinking too much.

I was a bartender for about 5 years in my youth. One day at the end of my shift I was invited to celebrate my birthday across the street at another bar. Wasn't allowed to drink where I worked. So, we all went across the street where everyone was buying me a shot of Scotch. My drink of choice.

I remember seeing shot glass after shot glass full of Scotch. They were all lined up in front of me. I'm not sure how many I downed, but at some point I just blacked out.

I woke up in my own bed, naked and wondering how I got home. Didn't have a clue. I was also married at that time and I was in big trouble. I was also sicker than a dog and I had to go to work at 10:30 that morning. Working in a bar...smelling alcohol.

I looked like death warmed over. I looked like I had been run over by a very large truck, but I went to work and completed my shift.

My girlfriends that were with me the night before told me that they loaded me in my car and drove me home. They undressed me and put me to bed. What a relief that was.

It took me three days to recover. I've never had scotch since and never will. It was a lesson I'll never forget.

Have a terrific day Annie. Big hug. :)

Thank you Sandee!

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The next answer is from Dawn with Don't Know Much About Photography
(And for someone who doesn't "know much about photography," she sure has a great eye.

Treat yourself to ...Don't Know Much About Photography, and enjoy the combination of spellbinding poetry with breathtaking photos that will take your breath away. Pay her a visit and you'll see what I mean.

Here's Dawn's hilarious answer:

Annie, Annie, Annie... there is no way in this world I could top your story! You cracked me up :)

Okay.. the worst hangover was last weekend... no just kidding ;)

The worst hangover was a long time ago when I was 18 and staying at a friends house for the night. I remember nothing except waking up with the room spinning and ended up spending the rest of the night with my head hung over her toilet.
That's how I learned never to drink beer and hard liquor at the same time.
Now I just drink hard liquor... ha ha ha! I guess you could say I'm a better drunk now ;)

Thank you Dawn~

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The next great comment is from Jackie at The Painted Veil

Get ready to read another fun story:
Well, don't get me wrong in my younger years I had my share but nothing that tops your story Annie.

I guess one of the worst times was when myself, my hubby and a couple that lived next door went out on the lake in another friend's brand new houseboat.

I can't remember what we were drinking but we drank a lot of it.

We were all out just floating around and looking at the stars when all of a sudden I got very very ill.

I looked at my friend who owned the boat and said"I'm goiing to be si..."but befor I got the last word out up it came.

I was sick as a dog and I threw up right in the main area of the boat. I also happened to be standing right over the heater/air vent and down it went.

To this day I have no clue how or if he ever got that cleaned up. But, the story doesn't end there.

I layed down for a bit and everyone else continue on drinking. Then they all decided to dock at one of the bars located around the lake.

Don't ask me where in the heck that bar was because I don't remember. In fact, none of us do.

Well after being sick and laying down for a while I decided to go ahead and try another drink.

Now the story gets weird and very odd. Because this was a small bar and there were only a few people in there, all men.

They decided out of the blue to buy a round for the house. We thought that was great. Wow, free drinks right?

Well, all any of us can remember after that one drink is trying to walk back down to the dock.

Somehow we all got split up and separated trying to find the boat. Well, I found the boat and so did Frankie, the boat owner. But Walter and Linda wound up lost and wandering around in the woods looking fora house to call for help.

To this day none of us know where Dave, Linda's husband was or how he found his way back to his van. We had all ridden with them to visit Frankie on the house boat.

Now I am on the boat with Frankie and we are lost on the lake looking for the van. Linda and Walter got picked up by some other boaters and taken back to the van.

Now, Walter and I had been friends with Frankie for years. So i will attribute his behavior that night to whatever the heck was in that 1 drink we were all served in that bar.

He approached me and tried to come on to me and I was so shocked. So, even though I can't swim I jumped off of the boat.

Thank goodness I got lucky and another boat came along and picked me up as I was screaming and almost drowning.

The details of how those people or the people that picked up Walter and Linda remain a mystery to all of us even today.

How did they find a single van parked on a lake with 600 miles of shore line? I have no clue. I am just grateful they did!!

To wind the whole disastrous night and now the next day, because we all slept, wet, in the van, until the sun rose and then proceeded to drive home.

On the way home,about a sixty mile drive the transmission went out. Dave, a mechanic, of all things, could only get the van to go into second gear.

So we drove almost the entire sixty miles doing about fifteen miles an hour. And Walter and I sat in the back, heads pounding, swirling, oh we were sick as dogs, listening to Linda yell at Dave.

She just kept shouting "oh yea, some master mechanic you are!"

I have never been so glad to get home in my life. I am very thankful those days are long gone.

Now the world knows! That's my story and I'm sticking to it!!

Big hugs,
Jackie
Thank you Jackie!

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The next answer is from Pam with Finding Pam

Don't you just love the name of her blog? This is another link to follow....

Here's Pam's comment:
Well, I am not exactly the person to ask because I have only been drunk once in my life. After all the toilet hugging and room spinning was over, I vowed never to drink again.

Too many alcoholics in my family for me to mess with the stuff.

Good for you, and thank you for taking the time to answer buddy. Have a great Day!
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And the last comment is from the very funny Gina with Humor and Laughs

Here's Gina's answer,

OMG . . . to this day I can't even stand the smell of tequila . . .

I am a rum and coke person, but the club had ten cent shots of tequila.

So . . . my friends and I had the bright idea of doing the salt and lemon thing with tequila shots. We lined up our change on the bar and proceeded to see who could go through their change the fastest.

Sometime during the course of the evening, I disappeared . . . one of my friends found me in the ladies room, curled up in a ball sleeping underneath the counter.

I don't remember much of that evening . . . only the fact that it took me three days to recover . . .

No more margaritas for me . . .

Thank you Gina.

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Thanks everybody, for taking the time to read Tuesday's Question...I hope you enjoyed it, because I'm going to publish another one next week....So....don't throw your thinking cap away....
You're the coolest of cool~
Peace out~

Annie

The Answer Is "Blowin' In The Wind"

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sat, 13 Nov 2010 07:56:00 +0000

I was going to post this song as the "song in my head today,'' but the version is so good that I didn't want to change the width on the video, so I decided to post it while I edit my next post entitled, "Who is Everybody?"

I hope you can return to read it, because I...well, I guess I should write it here in case, but I want to thank everyone who answered Tuesday's Question. Your answers are simply amazing, and I'm grateful that 'ya'll" are my readers. I'm a little behind again, which I explain in my upcoming, unedited, three topic post... but, in case it passes you by, please know that I really appreciate your answer.

Have a great week-end! And remember to pour a little sugar on it...

What Book Was...?

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 21:54:00 +0000

Hello, welcome to Tuesday's Question. This Tuesday, Tuesday's Question is asked at the end of the post instead of the beginning. If you're new to Tuesday's Question, there's a note for you at the end of the post as well. Plus, we already have two great answers...

Franz Kafka said,

"A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.” `

I had a hard time thinking of how to phrase today’s question. I was going to ask you what was the first book you remember reading, and what you liked or disliked about it. Hence, if you would like to answer that question you may, but I bet the title question will tell you why you felt the way you did about the book you read.

The first book I remember reading, is not my favorite book, but I will be forever grateful for having read it. Because I couldn’t wait to go back to the library and find another story to step into; a new door to open, and new characters who I could laugh, cry, suffer, dream, and live with until the final word on the last page, and beyond.

I think what Franz Kafka was saying is that books must crack open our outer shell and speak to our heart, mind, and more importantly our soul. I think that good books are just about syntax and spellbinding prose, they are about us, and who we are authentically, in addition to our relationship to the rest of the world.

I remember my feet moving when Scout Finch, the protagonist in To Kill A Mockingbird, (which is my favorite book) was running away from danger. I was so lost in the pages, I could smell the Finch house, feel the summertime heat, and of course feel the threat of danger.

Harper Lee’s book was the axe for the frozen sea in me…What book was the “axe for the frozen sea” in you?

Note to new readers: When I first started blogging I tried to think of a way to give back to my fellow bloggers, (who gave me awards and linked to my blog) and get to know them at the same time, and it turned out to be Tuesday's Question. Now, it's become a great way to get to know all of my readers and give back to the blogging community, in addition to introducing you to each other.

I guess you're wondering what I mean by "giving back," and introducing you to each other. Well, after you answer Tuesday's Question, I will post your answer as part of the post, and link it back to your blog. So, you get the benefit of the link and others get to know you by reading your answer. In addition, I think that chances are if they like your answer, they will like your blog, and I've made it easy for them to visit you by leaving your link.

If you would rather not participate, that's alright, I'm just happy you're here, and if you do, I love ya for taking the time to make Tuesday's Question what it is today- FUN.

And I thank you for your loyal support. Speaking of which, I have yet to post the answers to the last Tuesday's Question due to my computers terrible disposition. Therefore, look for them to be posted this week.

The first answer came from Grace at Hugz Before You Go who said,
I don't know about any axe for a frozen sea - I can't remember the first book I ever read since I started reading when I was 4 but if I look back the book that has stayed with me more than any other has to be "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott. Even at the tender age of 10, in the year 1956 I felt that Jo had copped out. But I loved Jo for being her own person despite all odds.

As an adult I read Louisa May Alcott's "blood and thunder" stories and in those stories the rebel woman wins out against the strictures of society.

Louisa called "Little Women" and the sequels "pap for children" but 100 hundred years later at least one child saw through the pap to the power.

Jo March will always be my hero and my first and only, role model.

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Another great answer from Sandee at Comedy Plus

This one is tough to chose. Only one, can't really do that so I'll go with a favorite. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. It just had everything from so many of the characters perspectives. There was hypocrisy, jealousy, faith, fidelity, family, marriage, society, progress, carnal desire and passion, and the agrarian connection to land in contrast to the lifestyles of the city.

The other thing is the character Levin was Tolstoy. All his beliefs were Tolstoy's. I didn't find that out until much later.

I just found this book so human. The struggles are the same no matter what country you reside or what century you happen to be living.

From where I am sitting I can look at my bookshelf and see that very large book named Anna Karenina. I've kept it all these many, many years.

This was a fun question Annie. I've always enjoyed Tuesday's Question.

Have a terrific day. Big hug. :)

I Feel Like A Child With Tangled Hair In Her Face...

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 11:00:00 +0000

I wish this was a caricature of me, but it's not. Really, I just wish I was more organized, but I'm not, not even on a good day, week, or year.

Although, judging by the look on her face, I'm not sure why I ever tried to emulate her, because she looks sort of unhappy, and at least I'm happy.

Anyway, the image above this paragraph is a better caricature of me lately, well, actually, her desk resembles mine. (Because it's invisible.)

I have notebook paper full of sentences I might use later, in addition to manuscript drafts, titles, phone numbers, etc....Although the rest of my house or apt. is clean and sort of organized, my desk and the little office I've made for myself are not, and lately it's worse.

I'm not going to bore you with my computer troubles anymore, but I do hope you will forgive me for missing Tuesday's Question yesterday, and I will say that it's the computers fault.

I mean, I think my computer should be smart enough to realize that now was not the time to announce that it needed "more space," geez...I am the human, the computer is supposed to be the smart one!

In any event, since I've been dealing with my computers breakdown, my life is running at a slower pace; I feel like a child with tangled hair in her face...but, the more I try to brush it, the wackier it gets.

In closing, I hope you will bare with the wackiness a little longer- (At least until I get the tangles out.)

For example, due to how impressed I was with your answers, and I don't want to take any attention away from them, I'm going to post last Tuesday's Questions answers this afternoon, and post my regular Tuesday's Question next week .

Please remember I'm still blogging, it's just that my computer thinks it rules the world, for instance, at this moment it's telling me to "restart now," although I keep hitting the button that politely asks if I would like to "restart later."

So, you see, if I'm not posting or visiting, remember it's my computers fault, and things will be back to normal soon.

Look for the answers to the last Tuesday's Question this afternoon....they are soooo impressive.

If You Had A Day To Spend Your Way, How Would You Spend it?

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 17:38:00 +0000

Hello, and welcome to Tuesday's Question! For those of you who aren't familiar with Tuesday's Question, I'll give you a quick synopsis.

I will post a question for you to answer in comments, then I'll post your answer and link it to your blog.

Today's Question is:

If you had a free day to spend exactly the way you wanted, what would you do? Let your imagination take you anywhere...or think about your simplest pleasures-

Thank you for stopping by, and I cannot wait to read your answers- Have fun!

Word Habits

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 22:15:00 +0000

I haven’t been able to sleep lately, so when that happens I jump on my computer and write. I do not think, I just write…Well, maybe I do think because I could not write if I wasn’t thinking, I suppose. Hence, last night I started 'thinking' about how people say certain words that aren't part of the English language, over and over again, sometimes for years. For example, I spoke to an old friend the other day, who I haven’t spoken to in years, that used to say the word "majorly" all of the time.

It drove me crazy, but I didn’t want to sound like my mother, and say, “Don’t say that.” Or “Did you know that majorly is not a word?” Because, correcting an adult, particularly a friend, would have sounded self-righteous and mean. Besides, there is nothing wrong with saying a word you like…it is not as if it’s against the law or anything. Well, I guess you could say it causes mental anguish, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, I was surprised that she still used the same word…and she’s not the only one. We are all guilty of this malacy…you see, malacy is also not a word, or I do not think it is, well, it may be a synonym for malady, who knows.

My mother is still constantly correcting my words, but she is just as guilty of improper word usage as I am…although she would never admit it. I don’t know why she is still correcting my language, but I guess she’s trying to make up for lost time, or she’s afraid I may run into one of her friends, and say, “Hello, it’s so nice to see you after all these years. It’s been a majorly long time, hasn’t it? “

When I was a teenager, my siblings and I had certain after school responsibilities she demanded we complete by the time she came home from work, or shopping, or riding horses, etc…whatever she was doing. In any event, my after school duty was to keep our kitchen clean, and I thought it was unfair since I had two older brothers who were constantly in the kitchen dirtying dishes. I mean, come on, what teenage boy doesn’t spend much of his time staring into the refrigerator?

Well, my brothers were typical teenage boys, hence, everyday after school, my brothers had demolished my cleaning job by the time my mother’s 1966 Ford Galaxy zoomed up our driveway-(our driveway was on a hill, well actually, our house was on a hill. That is why the driveway was…oh, you know what I mean-).

Anyway, we had better have our chores finished by the time we heard my mother’s white monster car soar up the driveway. (The car’s name was Charger)

I wish I could tell you more about “Charger,” (The Ford Galaxy) the Pear Apple tree, and our house on the hill, but I’m going to have to write about them in another post…because I’m trying to break the habit of bouncing from one topic to another-

O.K. now, where was I?

Oh yes, back to my unfair chores…According to my sluggish hormonial (not a word) teenage brain, kitchen duty should have landed on my brothers strong shoulders, not mine. Besides, it was obvious that my mother just wanted to torture me, because she could have had me dust the living room or take the garbage out, but no, she was adamantly against it.

Actually, I could not understand why it was illegal for teenagers to move into their own apartment.

Besides, grown-ups didn’t have a clue what teens were doing anyway.

Every time I asked her for a different chore, she would say; “Ann, that is the 17^th time you have asked me the same question!” At which point I would say, well, just give me one good reason why we cannot at least change the chores for once, and I’ll quit asking.”

That is when she would get so mad; it changed the features in her face. My mother would morph into someone else. Have you ever noticed when you’re involved in a confrontation you senses heighten, and you notice details about the person you’re arguing with that you’ve never noticed before?

For instance, when the maintenance man at my apt. complex told me this week that I would have to pay for a new dishwasher, I noticed that his eyes were big, brown and round, they looked like they were too big for his face, like a baby puppies. Moreover, his hair had turned grayer since the last time I saw him, which was the day before.

In any event, the first time my senses heighten with my mother, it scared the daylights out of me, in fact, she still can scare me to death.

Well, after I opened my mouth (for the seventeenth time) about my chore duties, and I smelled the strong scent of Chanel #5 or Ciarra in the air, I took off for my room, but, as always she caught me; and the lecture was on it’s way.

After telling me why I wasn’t going to talk to her like that, she’d cock her head to the side, and look at me like she didn’t have a clue who I was, after which, she’d straighten her arm out, and point with her index finger like she had her finger on the trigger of a gun, and say; “Ann, go to your room, don’t say a word, just go to your room and do not come out for the next seventeen years!”

To Our City of New Orleans

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 21:04:00 +0000

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy"-

Dr. Martin Luther King

In my title, Our City of New Orleans, I'm referring to all of us in America. New Orleans is the soul of our country, and thanks to the help of our great citizens all over America and the rest of the world, she will rise again.

I live eighty miles north of New Orleans in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and due to the fact that we were out of utilities for weeks after Hurricane Katrina we didn't realize the extent of the damage until our power was resorted.

After which, thousands of New Orleans citizens began to pour into Baton Rouge, particularly after the city was hit again by Hurricane Rita, only a week later.

One of the greatest and oldest city in America resembled a war zone...It's impossible to explain unless you saw it with your own eyes.

I would also like to extend this post, and my heart, to the Mississippi Gulf coast, whose citizens were also affected by the devastating effects of these natural disasters, in addition to the man-made horror the entire gulf coast is dealing with today-

However, if there is a region and a country that will pull through this, it is the deep south, and the United States of America~

"If There Will Be An Answer, Let It Be...

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 08:41:00 +0000

In the words of the first man, I ever adored, Henry David Thoreau,

"If thou art a writer, write as if thy time were short, for it is indeed short as the longest."

In January of this year as my friends and I danced, drank, and spoke of the year ahead as if we were guaranteed the time, the words of Henry David Thoreau rang a different truth for me, a truth I would understand in a different way by the end of the year.

Even some of my own words ring with a bizarre realism, for example, I wrote a little saying on this landing page that reads,

-Most of the worlds' great things were born of adversity and hardship; because these roadblocks encourage us to dream, imagine and believe.-

And now, those words ring more true to me than they did this past January, which I guess I should explain,

You see regardless of my train of thought at the end of last year, by February, my life began to cloud over, I had already been in pour health for some time, and it was beginning to get the best of me…for one thing I couldn’t write, which for me, is like snatching a bottle from a baby or alcoholic, take your pick…writing is my addiction, and I had the worst writers block I’ve ever known, hence, I knew I wasn't happy. In fact, I was simply miserable in every way, and I couldn’t put the breaks on my emotions. I was sick of myself.

Then, came the arrival of one of those typical Louisiana Springs, full of the kind of afternoon thunderstorms that tests your nerves like a colicky baby. I wanted to yell out of one of my windows, "Enough already!" My life was turning into days and days of pouring rain- Mainly because one of best friends in the world was dying of lung cancer. She passed away at the end of June, we met when we were twelve years old, so we were close friends for 35 years-, and now she is gone-

Which brings me back to my words,

Most of the worlds' great things were born of adversity and hardship; because these roadblocks encourage us to dream, imagine and believe.-

It seems to me that when the pain in our lives pull on our heartstrings, it stretches our hearts, thereby creating a greater capacity for love, joy, compassion, forgiveness, etc... In fact, after this year, I think my heart has grown to the size of a bottomless pit- Although, don’t get me wrong, I am not naive, meaning, I do realize, that much of the time pain and tragedy taxes the human heart to the point of pulling it in the other direction. I just believe that life is about paddling through to the other side, in other words, if we make it through the “hardship and adversity,” we win the prize of knowing abundant joy, or I pray this for us all, because, as Thoreau said, “Indeed our time is short, at the longest.”

In closing, I hope that after reading all of these paragraphs, you won't think of me as mellow dramatic, because it's hard to articulate how thrilled I am at this moment. As I write this post, I feel as though I am wrapping my arms around a long lost friend, and indeed, I am. It is a great feeling, because here on this blog, writing to my fellow friends, bloggers, and writers, I can let my soul fly, and my imagination take its course.

I guess one of the reasons blogging is such fun, is because there are no deadlines, judgments, or contracts- just writing and friendship.

In truth, I feel like I did the first time I saw the gulf coast; I was ten years old and so blown away by it's vast beauty that my stomach went into an excited flutter. I think it was one of the first times I realized how important and wonderful it was to be alive. I felt a content happiness, close to the way I felt when I daydreamed into the branches of my grandmother’s pecan trees, or when my mother read to my brothers and I, but that was when I was much younger, of course.

I used to lay in my grandmother's front yard, and read, where the grass was cool, although there were times when I read the same paragraph repeatedly, because my grandmother had a habit of talking to people in a low voice from a distance. I loved her dearly, but there were times when I looked forward to reading quietly, and I could hear her asking me something miles away through her front porch screen.. After years of this, I could guess what she was saying, but I still tried to ignore her, so I could read, although, by the time she gave up, the late afternoon birds would begin to whistle loudly above my head. But, you know, I would give my right arm to have one second of those moments again.

All right, I suppose that's enough head in the clouds dreamlike writing. I hope I haven’t bored you or taken too much of your time, posting such a long post.

It’s just that I really wanted to tell all of you where I have been since earlier this year, because I have had an awful fear that you may feel deserted, or like I never cared for any of you at all, and I hope that after you read all of this, you will realize that, that was not the case. (How could you not)

Hence, I would like to apologize to all of the special friends I have met blogging, and to my only pen pal, with whom I love dearly. (You know who you are…and I am dying to write you.)

Finally, another reason for the length of this post, and my delay in posting it, is my computer has two of those awful trogan viruses, and Dell has advised me to back up my files and wipe it clean. This is happening at the same time my car broke down, my son’s car broke down, I am out of paper, and my only pen ran out of ink- However, not all is lost, because I do have a huge red mark-so-lot. I am not sure if I spelled mark-so-lot correctly, but I am sure you now what I mean.

Burgh…life, but I will return, and when I do, and I haven’t pawned my digital camera to fix the car, because the computer lost all my manuscripts, I will take a picture of what I have written on my walls in red mark-so-lot, due to writers withdrawal.

I love you all and I will return-

"Till the next time we say good-bye" - Mick Jagger

Never, Ever, Interrupt A Daddy Ducks Breakfast

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 21:00:00 +0000

In CasE You Missed iT ThE FirsT TimE...

Several lakes surrounded the University campus where I went to school years ago; so, the ducks who lived on the lakes, usually walked students to class each morning hoping we would share our breakfast.

We could hear duck wings flapping, and a chorus of quaking, before we opened our eyes each morning, including week-ends. I suppose Roosters were born to wake up farmers, and Ducks were born to wake up students- Or at least that's what I thought-

Because most of the ducks I knew were polite and easy to deal with, but this educated group of ducks were different; they were were loud and aggressive, especially if you didn't offer them something to eat. Hence, the best thing to do was leave the house prepared to feed them, and never, ever interrupt their breakfast. Some students believed that the ducks knew which students were going to fed them, much like a waiter knows a good tipper, so they would immediately start attacking the students who didn't have food, and peacefully surrounded the ones with a bread bag. Incidentally, most students left their house each day with their books, and a bag of bread for the ducks.

It was hard to remember the ducks rules early every morning, therefore, on occasion a student would forget to bring the ducks food. Hence, it just so happened that one students memory lapse, provided a Daddy duck with the opportunity to teach the rest of us a valuable lesson. Plus, in addition to entertaining the campus with the funniest thing most of us ever witnessed in public; this daddy duck also reminded us to never, ever interfere with a ducks breakfast.

On the morning in question, I was sitting by one of the University lakes reading, when I overheard a couple arguing in front of a pair of ducks. The voices of the arguing couple and the gander's squawking sounded like an aggressive duck fight; and one loud enough to wake every creature on earth.

I felt sorry for the ducks, because this duck family wasn't bothering anyone until the couple came along. They were minding their own business, trying to feed their ducklings breakfast and I suppose send them to duckling school, when these people showed up and disturbed their morning. Hence, it's easy to understand why the daddy duck got his feathers in a ruffle over the human couples apparent rudeness and quickly charged in their direction.

When he approached the couple the man realized he was being challenged, so he put his hands in the air as if giving himself up for arrest, but Mr. Gander wasn't having it, and continued to advance upon the guy.

Everyone around the lake, including me, started laughing as this poor man kept shouting for help and backing away from his attacker. While the rest of the duck family squawked, the guy shouted and raised his fists as if demanding a fair fight from the creature, who continued his advance until he chased the guy down the sidewalk. It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen, or at least that's what I thought at the time...

However, later that afternoon, I was in another class in the same building, and I heard squawking again, only this time I was inside a classroom, so the honking, feather flapping argument, must have sounded really loud outside the building.

The classroom had three hundred theater style seats and two double doors at the entrance, so the students, including me, sitting in the seats near the entrance, could hear someone outside shouting, "Let go of me, ouch, let go of me," followed by more squawking and honking, until the double doors to the classroom blasted open, and in came a man running from the same duck I saw that morning.

Then, instead of rescuing their fellow student, everyone began climbing to the top seats to get away from the dangerous creature; who was doing his best to run with his head low enough to nip the man's heels and balance his wings at the same time. -The duck resembled a small airplane coming in for a landing-

The man ran up the row of seats with the daddy duck in hot pursuit nipping at his ankles... while students were shouting, "Did you forget to give him bread?"

Finally, someone latched onto both man and duck, and the situation came to a screeching, honking, feather flying halt, leaving an entire classroom of students laughing hysterically.

This daddy ducks behavior that morning was one of the most valuable lessons I've ever learned without having to pay a penny or endure a consequence.

And the lesson was; there are strict rules when it comes to ducks; you should always bring bread, and never, ever interrupt their breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow (Judy Garland and Toto)

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 20:58:00 +0000

Nobody sings Over The Rainbow like Judy Garland...and I've always been amazed at how wonderful "Toto" is in this scene...

I'll be back to my regular posting schedule...soon...I promise. All of you are important to me and I appreciate you stopping by to visit. I will be visiting you soon...

What Is Your Life's Theme Song?

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 19:36:00 +0000

What is your life’s theme song? I’ve asked this question before, in fact it was almost exactly two years ago, although this year the question is different for me. I wonder if it will feel the same to those of you who answered it before...

I’m not sure why it feels different, but it does...For one thing, I knew when I asked this question the first time that the theme song to my life would be A River Runs Through It, but I didn't know why, so I didn’t mention it at the time.

However, I did give a lot of thought to the fact that the title, A River Runs Through, is a metaphor for all families, regardless of where they live. And, I’ve learned over the last few decades of my life, how much our families shape us into the people we become, or you could say, how much our families “run through us.”

When I first saw this film I cried, like everyone, but after seeing it the first time, I continued to watch it to the point of obsession, and I couldn’t understand why; although, later I realized I identified with the youngest character played in the movie by the then unknown, Brat Pitt. Now, how in the world could a female from South Louisiana relate to a male character from Montana?

When I told my mother how I felt, and asked her what she thought troubled the character about his relationship with his parents... She said, "They were emotionally distant, whereas he was open and warm..."

It struck me as odd how quickly she answered my question, but I was still confused, so I asked, “Well, Mom, did you understand why his parents were emotionally distant, and besides they seemed to love their children.”

My mother looked at me like she was taken aback, but calmly replied, "Well Ann, of course they loved their children, but they were Scotch Irish."

Then, it clicked, because we are Scotch Irish as well...my whole family, with the exception of one Irish grandfather and a German Grandmother. I was relieved to suddenly realize why I strongly related to the character in the book and film, because we were brought up in similar circumstances and shared similar personalities.

Therefore, when I considered how “rivers run through” all families, it changed the way that I looked at what I would consider the theme song of my life. Have you ever strongly related to a character in a book or movie? If you have, I think it will help you answer this question, or answer it for you.

The first time I asked this question I phrased it differently; I asked,“What was your life’s Musical Score?” If you remember answering it, see if you feel differently now, or know more about yourself, or think of another song.

In any event, there is more to think about when answering this particular Tuesday’s Question. And I guess I rattled on more about it as well... Nevertheless, I hope Tuesday’s Question has always been a challenge, in addition to a blast.

Moreover, I know you might not believe me, even if I shouted it from the highest rooftop in your town; but these questions have taught me a lot about all of you, and people in general; I hope you’ve had the same experience.

And I'm Sorry again about posting so late in the day... I'm dealing with Dell’s (my computer) control issues again... One of these days he's going to find his computerized self at the bottom of the Mississippi River...it's sooo frustrating.

Also, I realize this is more like a preamble than the beginning of a Tuesday's Question post. I hope you will forgive me; I just had more to say on this one, and I will leave the post up throughout the day tomorrow.

Now, I want to know the theme song to your life...

Just skip over the next few paragraphs if you're familiar with Tuesday's Question.

Note to first time visitors: If this is the first time you've visited Tuesday's Question, please note, that I'm glad you're here. All participates answers are published (along with a link to their site) within Tuesday's Question's post and you don't have to own a blog to participate.

All you have to do is write your answer in comments and I will publish your comment along with your name. Just leave everything to me~ :0 Everyone's answers will be posted as quickly as possible throughout the day with a link to the participating blogger's blogs, therefore, don't forget to stop by and visit the blogger's who commented.

Chances are, if you liked a blogger's answer, you will also enjoy reading their blog. Have Fun, and don't forget, Tuesday's Question is a weekly post of original questions, link love, and friendship, so jump in and let us know your answer. You can read the answers throughout the day by clicking "Read More"

Marley & Me (Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment)

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 18:58:00 +0000

Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson star as newlyweds John and Jenny Grogan, in the screen adaptation of Marley & Me. The movie is based on the novel, Marley & Me, by Marley's true owner, Pennsylvania columnist John Grogan; who wrote many columns about his beloved Golden "Laberdoodle", Marley; also affectionately referred to as the "worlds worst dog."

This Saturday, instead of posting Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment without any words, I decided to share a little about the background of Marley & Me, partly because it's a true story, but also because it's based on John's Grogan's moving novel, written in first person narrative.

John's novel, Marley & Me, was published in 2005; after an overwhelming response to the eulogy he wrote for Marley in his column; then, Bad Dog, Marley, a picture book for children, based on his original story followed; Bad Dog, Marley was published in 2007. (Harper Collins)

I loved all three adaptations of Marley and Me, in fact, I read the novel twice, the children's book several times, and saw the movie in the theater and at home.

Marley & Me has something for everyone; moviegoers, readers, or both, in addition to two other children's books I neglected to mention; A Dog Like No Other, for younger readers without the sexual content in the original novel, and A Very Marley Christmas.

The Grogan family had their hands full, but they also had a loving family member who taught them about life and how to love. If you haven't seen this movie, watch it, and if you haven't read it, read it, and if you have small children, remember Marley's age appropriate books.

It's a gem; a film that will be watched for years to come. I just had to add all of this...enjoy the clip~

Happy Saturday, and have a terrific week-end.

What Funny Thing Did Your Child Do Or Say Today?

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 12:20:00 +0000

When my son was three or four, I made our living room into a play area to keep him occupied while I cooked. The kitchen was set up with a bar between it and the living room, so I could watch him from the kitchen, while we sang songs and I peeled potatoes.

One of our favorite song's was “John, Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt" I would sing and dance around the kitchen peeling potatoes, and adding to the pot whatever I could find from our limited supply of ingredients, while he laughed aloud and jumped up and down to the rhythm of the song. He was a good choreographer, and was sure to show me whatever new move he created as I threw onions, bell pepper and whatever else together for dinner. We sang every night at suppertime.

One night as we danced and sang John Jacob, I turned my back on him, and when I turned around again, he had gone to his room.
He did this sometimes, he would get in the mood to be alone and go in his room and make believe he was pirate or some other popular action figure for hours. But this time was different, and when too much time passed I started to get uncomfortable with the silence. I went in his room and saw him sitting in the corner covering his face, and crying. I said, "Honey what’s wrong?"

He pulled his chubby hand away his face, then shook his head back and forth refusing to come forth with the problem. However, I keep asking until he was more helpful, and after a gulp of air he replied, "You used to like to watch me sing and dance."

I was perplexed, I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about, but I said, "Yes Baby, and I still do. I had a wet kitchen towel wrapped my waist, but I pulled him on my lap anyway, and hugged him while he sucked his thumb, then I said,

"Honey, there isn't anything in the world I would rather do than watch you sing and dance, and not the biggest bear or the strongest Rhinoceros could change my mind about that- So why on earth would you think that I didn't like your singing and dancing anymore?"

"Because when I danced and sang you didn’t clap your hands." he answered.

"Well," I replied, "Taylor, I couldn’t see you, I had my backed turned." His reply is a good example of how literal children are, he said, "Why didn’t you just use the eyes in the back of your head?"

What funny thing did your child do or say today?

Happy Birthday Sandee!

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 09:35:00 +0000

Happy Birthday Sandee

Actually, September the 8th was my dear friend Sandee's (from Comedy Plus) birthday, as some of you already know, however, I thought I knew of a website that made graphics of different flavored cakes, and I was going to send it to her, as well as add it to this post. But, it fell through, and yesterday I tried to write this post, in addition to paying forward the fabulous awards I’ve received this month, but my computer had other plans.

Well, I say it’s my computer, and as for it running slow, it probably is, but have you noticed my font? For some reason, I cannot get the size straight and it’s written in bold.

It’s undeniably frustrating…in addition to my computer stopping every few minutes, and threatening me with it's hourglass. It's as if my computer is saying, your time on earth is running out, especially, if you hit one more button on my keyboard. In any event, I was determined to write Sandee a birthday post, and by golly, I’m doing it.

I met Sandee only a month or so after I started blogging, and I don’t think she had been blogging long herself, but she saved me from the brink of disaster on a daily basis, introduced me to many of her friends and made me laugh.

I remember seeing her first avatar, which was a sleepy-eyed cartoon character wearing big fluffy slippers and holding a coffee cup. At that time, she didn’t have her photo published yet, so I recognized her by the droopy-eyed character with the coffee cup and big slippers.

Anyway, to illustrate what a great person she is, I was looking for the character with the cup this morning on her blog, and to my surprise, I saw a gorgeous sign with a butterfly at the top. The sign said, “Get Well Annie,” which made a huge impression on me, but what really touched me was that she never told me about it.

It’s at the bottom of her blog and it made my day. In fact, to be honest, I wasn’t planning on returning to blogging for awhile, or at least not until my books were on the market, and the publishing market moves as fast as a snail, so that gives you an idea of how long I would have been off-line.

However, because of the fact that she kept writing me comments, along with my touchstone Dawn from Twisted Sister, I returned to blogging sooner.

Sandee, is a true spirit, what you see is what you get, and I see an authentic, compassionate, fun, and caring friend. She is no leaky vessel, and that’s what I love about her- a dependable friend to everyone and special to me-

Thank you, my friend, for sharing your heart, your time, and your kindnesses, in addition to treating me with the same dignity, compassion, and respect you would afford someone you’ve known for years. You exemplify the Emerson quote I have at the top of my blog...and I'm honored to be your friend.

As you always say,
Big hug and lotsa lovies

Note; I’m going to do my dead level best to post some awards today. Although unfortunately, I’m not sure what my computer’s problem is, and on a more personal note, I have a doctors appt. this afternoon, so I’m not sure I’ll make it. However, it’s a promise to those of you who thought enough of me to nominate me for an award; I will post them as soon as possible.
In addition, I know I have my “syster” Dawn to thank for her sign, as well as Ettarose and Bud, and Grace's wonderful comments- All of you touched my heart and healed my soul. I have so many of you to thank for helping me through one of the hardest times in my life, and I will never forget you.

When Was Your Most Romantic Dance? (Tuesday's Question)

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 11:51:00 +0000

When Was Your Most Romantic Dance? Where were you, who were you with, and do you remember the song?

Hello, and welcome to Tuesday’s Question. If you’re unfamiliar with Tuesday’s Question, it’s my way of spreading weekly link love, getting to know my readers, and introducing you to each other, that is, if you’re not friends already, and in that case, feel free to visit each other through comments.

This is how it works: After you answer Tuesday's Question, I copy your answer and add it to this post, along with a link to your blog. That way, everyone who reads the answers will read your answers as well, and will have a link to your blog, and chances are, if they like your answer, they will also like your blog.

Makes sense, right, plus, it is one of the ways we can get to know each other better, and I can pass along link love to my blogging buddies each week.

Today’s Question again is When Was Your Most Romantic Dance? Where were you, who were you with, and do you remember the song?

My answer:

My most romantic dance was on the beach with my ex-husband. It was dusk, and I was playing in the sand with our son, when my husband who was standing beside us, leaned over and took my hand. At first, I thought he was going to tell me something in my ear, but he pulled me into his arms, and started dancing with me.

Then, our one-year-old son crawled between us, and stood on his Dad’s feet. I’ll never forget it, because we didn’t say a word, we were covered in sweat, sand, and salt water, and we just danced. I laid my head on his shoulder and we hummed while he slowly rocked me and our baby back and forth...the wind blew and the tide rushed in...I don’t remember the song.

Now, it's your turn:

My first answer to Tuesday's Question is from Stephanie from Stephanie's Stories
and if you haven't visited this writer's blog, you're missing out...
She's an articulate writer, Mom, Aunt, Wife, and Therapist, with many an interesting story to tell.

Here's Stephanie's answer:

Hi Annie-
Love your blog!
What a great question. Most romantic dance:
-with my husband I affectionately call "The Bird" on my blog
-dancing in the middle of our living room, fire lit, candles glowing, Frank Sinatra in the background.
-Voted most romantic bc it was impromptu. Straight from a place a pure love.

Song stuck in my head is from Julie & Julia the movie we saw yesterday which is Time After Time...so lucky to be loved by you. (Not sure of the actual title)
xo Stephanie

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My next answer is from another wonderful blogger. Grace from Hugz Before You Go
which I would describe as a treasure box full of honest, intelligent, and funny posts.

Here's Grace's answer:

As much as I love to dance, my brother bought me a sweat shirt that said "To dance is to live, To live is to dance", I've never experienced a romantic dance. Never had a beautiful ball gown, can't think of any thing romantic I've ever been a part of. Now how sad is that?

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The next answer comes from Sandee at Comedy Plus, another nugget of gold in the blogosphere, not to mention funny and kind. She also writes great answers to Tuesday's Question.

Here's what Sandee wrote:

This is an easy one Annie. Of course it's with hubby. We weren't together yet, but we had a work function that had music and dancing after dinner. I'd never even kissed him yet so this is the very, very beginning. Okay, even before the beginning.

He walked over to me, extended his hand, and I of course took his hand and off to the dance floor we went. He folded me into his arms and we just swayed with the music. I felt safe and warm. I felt love. It was a magical moment that I've never forgotten.

The music...Whitney Houston - I will always love you. For everyone else this is not a love song, but for me it is...

Today is my birthday and hubby is making me feel special all over again.

Have a terrific day honey. Big hug and lotsa lovies. :)

September 8, 2009 9:45 AM

I left this date here to remember it's Sandee's Birthday...Hence, if you have a chance stop by and surprise her by telling her Happy Birthday. She'll wonder how you know, that is unless someones beat us to it, but still, she will not know how you know. Happy Birthday golden lady. I hope you have a good one.

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The next answer is from a very best buddy in the blogosphere, who, in addition to a being a fabulous friend, is a marvelous poet, who can make turning a spectacular phrase, look as easy as spinning a top. Dawn, is a woman with a big heart and a whole lot of talent. I'm honored to be her friend, and you will be too.

Oh, I guess I have to introduce her blog and leave the link in order for you to visit her blog, don't I? Thank goodness, I'm not running the world, eh?

Dawn is from Twisted Sister, and here is her answer:

Sorry I'm late answering... and you don't have to post my answer. I have had hundreds of dances I suppose but I don't remember one in particular that stands out as the most romantic... Unless of course you count all the times I danced with my cat. Now he was a real charmer... ;)

Luvs ya syster!

Your word verification is Syster! How cool is that?

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As Good As It Gets (Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment )

noreply@blogger.com ("Annie") — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 12:11:00 +0000

This is the second scene I've posted from As Good As It Gets. The first scene is funnier, in fact, I almost posted it again, but I remembered I already had it in archives. I guess it's obvious that I loved the movie. It has such a great screenplay I can't help it. You can watch the other scene by clicking the "link within box" below. I hope you enjoy one or both of them...and have a safe and fun Labor Day week-end. Thanks for visiting~