Four 2 Smile

Sunday Trivia - Who Invented That?

2010-08-08T05:30:00.000-07:00

Did you ever wake up in the middle of the night and ask yourself -- who invented kitty litter? Or what about when you’re watching a movie and the actor tosses a stick of dynamite at the bad guys -- ever thought wow who invented that?

Well I bet now that I’ve planted the idea you will ~smiles~. You can thank me later.

For today’s Sunday trivia I thought it would be fun to find out who invented some of the things we use every day and some we don’t. Things from our childhood and some we wouldn’t want to live without.

Enjoy!

1. Airplane
2. Aspirin
3. Barbed Wire
4. Bread Slicer
5. Bubble Gum
6. Clue (one of the top 10 games of all times)
7. Coffee Pot (on my list of can’t live without)
8. Dynamite
9. Electric Battery
10. Elevator
11. Etch A Sketch
12. Frisbee
13. Graham Cracker
14. Hershey Bar (give that man a kiss)
15. Ivory Soap
16. Jigsaw Puzzle
17. Kitty Litter
18. Lava Lamp
19. Liquid Paper (I’m betting this was a frustrated secretary)
20. Matches
21. Mr. Potato Head
22. Potato Chips
23. Safety Pin
24. Slinky
25. Tinker Toy (on the top 10 toys of all times list)
26. Velcro
27. Yo-Yo

:)

Idiom's Trivia - Answers

2010-08-08T03:10:00.000-07:00

Bird In The Hand Is Worth Two In The Bush
A Chip On Your Shoulder
Back Seat Driver
Barking Up The Wrong Tree
Close but no Cigar
Curiosity Killed The Cat
Don't count your chickens before they hatch
Don't Put All Your Eggs In One Basket
Elvis has left the building
Everything But The Kitchen Sink
Finger lickin' good
From Rags To Riches
Go Down Like A Lead Balloon
Great Minds Think Alike
Haste Makes Waste
Hold Your Horses
Icing On The Cake
In The Heat Of The Moment
Keep your chin up
Knock On Wood
Last but not least
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
Method To My Madness
Mum's the word
Not Playing With a Full Deck
On Pins And Needles
On The Same Page
Pig In A Poke
Practice Makes Perfect
Raining Cats and Dogs
Rome Was Not Built In One Day
Saved By The Bell
Sick As A Dog
The Ball Is In Your Court
The Whole Nine Yards
Variety Is The Spice Of Life
Water Under The Bridge
When It Rains, It Pours
You Are What You Eat
You Can't Judge A Book By Its Cover
Zero Tolerance

;)

Sunday Trivia - Idiom's

2010-08-01T01:46:00.000-07:00

Do you know what an Idiom is?

I was sure my answer to that question was a resounding - Yep! Then, I read the definition - an expression whose meanings cannot be inferred from the meanings of the words that make it up.

Huh, what?

Okay to me an Idiom is a saying that makes little sense, has been used for generations, and no one knows it's origin.

So I thought it would be fun to see if you all can finish these Idiom’s. If I give you the beginning, can you supply the ending?

Have fun!!

1. Bird In The Hand Is Worth Two In The

2. A Chip On Your

3. Back Seat

4. Barking Up The Wrong

5. Close but no

6. Curiosity Killed The

7. Don't count your chickens before they

8. Don't Put All Your Eggs In One

9. Elvis has left the

10.Everything But The Kitchen

11.Finger lickin'

12. From Rags To

13. Go Down Like A Lead

14. Great Minds Think

15. Haste Makes

16. Hold Your

17. Icing On The

18. In The Heat Of The

19. Keep your chin

20. Knock On

21. Last but not

22. Let Sleeping Dogs

23. Method To My

24. Mum's the

25. Not Playing With a Full

26. On Pins And

27. On The Same

28. Pig In A

29. Practice Makes

30. Raining Cats and

31. Rome Was Not Built In One

32. Saved By The

33. Sick As A

34. The Ball Is In Your

35. The Whole Nine

36. Variety Is The Spice Of

37. Water Under The

38. When It Rains, It

39. You Are What You

40. You Can't Judge A Book By Its

41. Zero

;)

Sunday Trivia - Name The Waterfall - Answers

2010-08-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

1. Angel Falls - The world’s highest waterfalls and it falls from a height of 979 meters.

2. Iguazu Falls - The U-shaped cliff in the waterfall which is known as the Devil’s throat is the most striking feature of this waterfall.

3. Tugela Falls - The specialty of this waterfall is the presence of a series of five spectacular cascades.

4. Niagara Falls - One of the most powerful waterfalls in the world with about six million cubic meters of water flowing per minute.

5. Rhine Falls - One of the oldest waterfalls which were believed to have formed about seventeen thousand years ago.

6. Yosemite Falls - A combination of two plunge falls and a cascade falls.

7. Jog Falls - Its source is the Sharavathi River and it flows from a height of 253 meters.

8. Victoria Falls - The forest site near the waterfalls contains the most unique species of wildlife.

9. Murchison Falls - It's between Lake Victoria and Lake Albert.

10. Ouzoud Falls - Located about 150 kilometers from Marrakech in the High Atlas mountains.

11. Dettifoss Falls - Is the most powerful waterfall in Europe.

12. Gulfoss Falls - Within a few hours drive of Reykjavik.

13. Krimmler Falls - An amazing sight to see 20,000 m³/h of water see rushing 380 meters downwards.

14. Havasu Canyon Falls - The stunning turquoise water snakes down the narrow canyon with waterless desert on both sides.

15. Bridal Veil Falls - Almost 200 meters high and one of the most characteristic sights in Yosemite.

16. Kaieteur Falls - Located in the centre of Guyana's rainforest on the Potaro river.

Inception

2010-07-27T22:05:00.000-07:00

What is there to say about Inception?

How about - that is 2 hours and 28 minutes of my life I’ll never get back. And, trust me I want it back.

After watching Leonardo DiCaprio in Shutter Island, I had high hopes this dream state, subconscious thrill ride would have twists and turns that kept me guessing.

No such luck!

The premise of the film is Dom Cobb (Leonardo) and his band of trusted accomplices are going to pull off the impossible: plant an idea. If only someone had had an idea. Any idea of how to make this movie so it had a cohesive story line instead of action scenes intermixed with talking, intermixed with some very low tech, unexplained dream inducing machine, and back to action scene.

It’s funny, after sitting in the theater for two hours and twenty-eight minutes; it took me less then five minutes to forget the names of every character in the movie. The only reason I know Leo’s characters name is because it was on the theaters movie listing. I remember there were five or maybe three hundred other men and I think two or three women in the movie, but really only a few of them lived so I didn’t bother to count.

In fairness I will say there were a couple of chuckle moments, however having admitted that I have to be honest and tell you I don’t think they were intended to be funny. The rating for this movie is PG-13 and I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone under 13. Not because it’s bloody or full of swearing - truth be told, I can’t remember much of the dialogue, but I’m pretty sure swearing was minimal. The reason little ones should stay at home is because there is nothing in this movie they will understand. Heck, I didn’t understand it and I’m a pretty smart cookie most of the time. Oh, and Connie and KK agree with me (yes about the movie and about me being a smart cookie, LOL).

So all in all, Inception needed a little more in the way of explanation mixed in with a whole lot more direction - both in storyline and actual directing. This movie was a fail for me.

1 Buttered Popcorn

:)

Sunday Trivia - Name The Waterfall

2010-07-25T01:42:00.000-07:00

1. The world’s highest waterfalls and it falls from a height of 979 meters.

2. The U-shaped cliff in the waterfall which is known as the Devil’s throat is the most striking feature of this waterfall.

3. The specialty of this waterfall is the presence of a series of five spectacular cascades.

4. One of the most powerful waterfalls in the world with about six million cubic meters of water flowing per minute.

5. One of the oldest waterfalls which were believed to have formed about seventeen thousand years ago.

6. A combination of two plunge falls and a cascade falls.

7. Its source is the Sharavathi River and it flows from a height of 253 meters.

8. The forest site near the waterfalls contains the most unique species of wildlife.

9. It's between Lake Victoria and Lake Albert.

10. Located about 150 kilometers from Marrakech in the High Atlas mountains.

11. Is the most powerful waterfall in Europe.

12. Within a few hours drive of Reykjavik.

13. An amazing sight to see 20,000 m³/h of water see rushing 380 meters downwards.

14. The stunning turquoise water snakes down the narrow canyon with waterless desert on both sides.

15. Almost 200 meters high and one of the most characteristic sights in Yosemite.

16. Located in the centre of Guyana's rainforest on the Potaro river.

Sunday Trivia - Name That Rock - Answers

2010-07-25T01:00:00.000-07:00

1. Gutzon Borglum designed the sculpture - Mt. Rushmore

2. Built during the third and fourth Dynasty - The Great Pyramids

3. Rises 1267 feet above the Belle Fourche River - Devils Tower

4. Can be found in San Juan County, Utah - Mexican Hat Rock

5. Jutting from the water in Port Campbell National Park - The Twelve Apostles

6. Owes its façade to its composition of chalk accentuated by streaks of black flint - White cliff of Dover

7. Mountain carving was begun in 1948 - Crazy Horse Memorial

8. Found fame through the 1974 film starring arch-villain Scaramanga - James Bond Island – Thailand

9. Most widely-recognized landmark in Arches National Park - Delicate Arch (Utah

10. Western most point of the Isle of Wight - The Needles (England)

11. Located on the shores of the upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy - Hopewell Rocks

12. The granite crest rises more than 4,737 ft above the valley - Half Dome

13. Located about twelve miles west from Courthouse Rock and Jailhouse Rock - Chimney Rock

14. A strategic landmark in Sedona - Bell Rock

15. 45.52 carats, deep-blue girls best friend - The Hope Diamond

Oldie of The Week - Nim's Island

2010-07-21T18:58:00.000-07:00

2008 - PG - 95 minute

Have to tell you this movie is as good the second time around as it was the first. There is just something about tropical islands, turquoise waters, adventure writers, and dare I say it, Gerard Butler -- again!

Playing a duel role in this film, Mr. Butler plays Nim’s scientist father, Jack. Clean cut, intelligent, father of the year material. On the opposite side of the aisle, he plays Alex Rover, the muse of writer Alex Rover (Jodie Foster). Side note: Gerard Butler as Alex Rover - yum.

As a recluse, Alex Rover the writer, is nothing like her alter-ego, Alex Rover. The real Alex can’t even get up the courage to leave the house to get the mail. Meanwhile, super-hero Alex is cheating death in epic novel after epic novel.

The problems start when Nim’s daddy leaves her on the island to trek out to sea in search of plankton. Pretty, shiny, blue plankton. I myself would have gone with Jack to see the shiny stuff, but Nim, being a young girl waiting for baby turtles to hatch, doesn’t seem to want to go. After promises of no parties and good behavior, Jack agrees to allow Nim to stay behind.

Cue the storm!

Having survived a storm with hurricane winds, falling trees, and flying debris, I held my breath when both Jack and Nim are tossed around by the storm like toys. When dawn arrives they both find themselves alone.

Nim, for some reason seems to think Alex Rover the writer and Alex Rover the handsome adventuresome hero are one in the same. Her fears are lightened when her computer announces ‘you’ve go mail’ and as chance would have it, the email is from Alex Rover.

What happens next is LOL from beginning to end. Jodi Foster plays the part of an agoraphobic so well. The conversations she has with her character are witty and full of self doubt. Watching her struggle to gain the courage to rescue Nim is heartwarming.

Nim’s Island is wonderful entertainment. Directors Jennifer Flackett and Mark Levin deserve kudos’s for a job well done.

If you haven‘t seen Nim‘s Island, add it to your video on demand list today.

4.5 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Family Reunion - Oh My - Part 4

2010-07-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

With the dawn comes the heat, to beat it, get up before dawn. Sure, I’m completely over my heat stroke from yesterday ~not~!

Onward to Michigan - humidity, oh yea!

We left for DFW at 3:45 am, #2 and I quickly went over the items we’d packed to confirm nothing of importance was left behind. That took all of two point four minutes. From there we simply talked about anything we could think of to keep each other awake.

We had a 6:35 am flight to Chicago, where we would catch another flight into Flint, Michigan.

As usual nothing went according to plan, other then our departing her house on time. We arrived at DFW in the wee hours of morning, before the sun came up, before most people were up, before the sun was up, yippie.

Once we got into the terminal we discovered the airlines computers were not working. After standing in line for forty-five minutes (where are all the e-ticket machines??) we finally received our boarding passes. The ticket agent also imparted important information about the delay our flight would experience because of the slow check in process. So much for schedules!

Arriving at the correct gate we were informed it would take five to ten minutes to get the balance of the passenger’s checked in manually.

Thirty minutes later, we were still waiting to board the plane.

Each time one of the frazzled airline employees made an announcement we were told -- five more minutes. Finally, twenty minutes after our flight was supposed to go wheels up; another announcement was made regarding the lack of a departure time. A nice young man informed us the computer problem was worldwide and until headquarters gave the go ahead we were stuck in Dallas.

Looking at my sister, she didn’t even wait for me to ask. “I’ll be fine, go smoke.”

If you’ve ever been to DFW you realize, it’s less difficult to leave the terminal and return then at other airports. I knew I could get out of the building, smoke (yes, I know), and returned in about fifteen minutes, so off I went, glad to at least be moving. Even if it wasn’t up, up, and away.

I was trailed by about thirty other passengers from our delayed flight. We all arrived on the sidewalk, lighters in hand, and the great smoke break started. I think many of the other passengers were chain smokers, because they did not return with me when I re-entered the airport.

Standing in line to get back through the security checkpoint, I heard someone calling Michelle. Now I’ve learned over the years that a lot of people share my name, so I don’t normally answer to Michelle. A couple of seconds later a security guard, standing at the entrance to the gate, demanded to know if anyone and I mean anyone in the line was named Michelle.

I decided at this point I better raise my hand. “I’m Michelle.”

“Are you on flight 871?”

“Yes.” I was a little concerned I’d done something wrong by leaving the gate. Fortunately for me, there were twenty-nine other people outside who would get yelled at too.

“You better come with me. Quickly.”

Stepping out of line, I tried to push my way forward to obey this security guard. “What’s wrong.” I asked.

“Your flight is about to take off.”

Hells bells. “What about all the other people outside smoking?”

“Not my problem, your sister sent me to find you, I’ve found you, now please come with me.”

Not wanting to cause problems, I allowed this gentleman to get me through the security gate ahead of all those poor people without a sister standing on the other side demanding they find them.

As I arrived on the other side of the metal detector, #2 hustled me down the terminal to gate 24B. When we arrived all the seats, which minutes before had been occupied by weary travelers, were empty. Everyone was on the plane, waiting for the ‘smokers’.

Giving my boarding pass to the nice young lady at the counter, I told her she needed to get someone to the security gate, because there were still at least twenty or thirty people outside smoking.

To all you folks who shared the flight with us, let me just say…this was not our fault. If the airlines had been honest about it being a two and half hour delay up front, we would have had time to smoke an entire pack if we’d wanted too.

Once on board the plane - I slept!

We flew into Midway airport and the scheduled layover was supposed to be two and a half hours. Once on the ground it turns out we had 32 minutes. Just enough time to find a ladies room, conclude the line at all restaurants in the terminal were too long to wait, and dash for the proper gate…so much for eating.

Being fairly smart people though, my sister and I had packed a small snack of sausage and cheese, which we devoured as we hurried for the gate. Turns out our outbound flight was on time. What we didn’t realize -- the plane was so darn small it couldn’t pull up to the gate. Instead we were treated to the pleasure of climbing down two flights of stairs, in an un-air-conditioned stairwell I might add, to the ground level of the airport.

It was about this time, #2 started asking other passengers on our flight if they were from the Chicago area. Unsure of her motive, I queried, “What’s up?”

“I’m thinking maybe we could just rent a car and drive to Flint.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No!”

Side note, #2 hates to fly. The only reason she agreed to get on these planes at all was because I flew to Dallas first so we could fly together to Michigan. “Seriously, we will be fine.” I assured her in my bestest big sister voice.

“This plane better have jet engines,” she declared, while still trying to find out from the nice lady in front of us how long it takes to drive from Chicago to Michigan. “We could see the country, a great lake or two. Think of the fun.”

“I’m tired, hungry, and besides we have a rental car waiting for us in Flint. Relax, it will be ok.” I don’t think I assured her at all, however, I figured we would be on the plane in a few moments so her thoughts of driving would vanish soon.

I hate being wrong all the time ~smiles~.

Once we arrived downstairs, we exited the door and entered 'the furnace' to line up for the bus, which was to carry us to the plane.

Then it happened.

The wonderful folks from the airline couldn’t get the doors on the bus to open. For pity sakes, it’s 115 degrees out here, the tarmac is melting under my feet --

#2 is trying to arrange a deal to share a rental car with the nice people around us and one bus driver is stuck inside the bus pushing, while two employees on the outside pull. Could this day get any more frustrating?

“Does anything at this airline work???” #2 whined.

Wow is she stressed. “It’s ok, they will bring another bus, trust me.” Don’t tell #2 but about this time I’m thinking maybe driving to Flint might not be such a bad idea.

After being told the obvious, the door is stuck, the airline employee called for a new bus, we were herded back into the terminal to await its arrival.

“That woman said it would only take us about five hours to drive to Michigan.” #2 became a fountain of information.

“Yes I heard her.” See me trying to turn the tide. “We are taking the plane.”

She didn’t look happy, however she did stop talking about driving. A few short minutes later, about ten minutes after our flight was supposed to leave, we finally had a working bus to drive us to the plane. Which by-the-way was parked at the far side of the airport, past several runways and buildings, so it took a few minutes to arrive.

“It’s got props!!” #2 screeched.

“Yes. I can see.” I told #2 in a confident voice, far from feeling confident myself, I didn’t want to spook her.

“Only one is working.”

“They will start the other one once we are onboard.”

“So one engine is going to be hotter then the other, is that safe?” #2 was looking a little paler.

“Yes its safe, trust me.” I don’t think the 'trust me' line was working anymore, however, #2 is a real trooper. She handed over her carry-on bag to the nice young man waiting to take them, because there was very little overhead storage on the plane, walked up the ladder (also very small) and boarded the plane. Finding her seat, she quickly sat down and buckled up.

“Sis, I have the window seat. You need to let me sit down first.” Not looking at all pleased, she unbuckled and stood to allow me to sit. As I attempted to sit down the seat back flew forward, causing me to slam into the seat in front of me. Standing quickly, I looked at the seat behind me to see a woman trying to strap a very large car seat into the not so big seat in back of mine.

Her rear was banging the back of my seat with great force as she pushed and pulled in her efforts to secure the thing.

The stewardess arrived to explain the car seat was most likely to large for the seat belt to work and perhaps it would be best to check the seat.

With the look of a shocked mother, this woman informed everyone on the plane, “My son (about age four) simply can not fly unless he is properly fastened into the car seat.” After delivering her speech, she turned her attention back to the overly large car seat.

I was told, by the stewardess, in no uncertain terms to sit down and buckle up.

I did!

All the while the back of my seat was being slammed over and over as the mother of the year tried to make a ten gallon hat fit in a two gallon bucket – so to speak.

After about five minutes the captain’s voice came over the loud speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have been cleared for take-off. If you have oversized luggage you were unable to secure, please give it to the flight crew, NOW!”

Once again the stewardess approached, only to be told, “I almost have it. Wait; there…see I told you it would fit.” Yes it fit, however my seat back would never be the same. The four year old was quickly placed in the safety of the seat and finally the plane started to move.

As we went wheels up the young man seated behind me became so excited he started kicking the back of my seat. I looked at my sister to see if she noticed, only to find she had her eyes closed and appeared to be saying a silent prayer. I left her alone and hoped the mother would stop the young mans feet.

She didn’t.

After we reached cruising altitude, which in a prop plane is not very high, I turned around to request the kicking be halted. Super mom appeared to have no clue it might be bothersome. With a confused look on her face, she placed a hand on the boy’s legs and the kicking stopped, for about seven seconds.

Kick, my head hit the window.

Kick, the seat back slammed forward.

Kick, kick, kick…the young man is now screaming at the top of his lungs because he doesn’t want apple juice, he wants a soda.

“Now honey,” Mother Oblivious said, “you can’t have a soda. Apple juice is better for you. You like apple juice, remember?”

“I WANT COKE!!”

Sixteen passengers, one stewardess, and two seagulls flying between the lake and the plane jumped in fright at the volume of that demand.

Unaware her darling little boy‘s voice could shatter glass, Mom Obliv, assured him, “now sweetie, it’s ok, apple juice is good for you.”

“NO, NO, NO, I HATE APPLE JUICE.”

Turning to the stewardess, who had her hands over her ears for protection, Obliv told her, “he wants apple juice.”

“NO, I HATE YOU.”

“That’s ok.” Mother Oblivious must be wearing earplugs, “Here is your juice.”

#2 and I exchanged looks.

“Five hours.”

That was all #2 said. Leaving me to hope the flight would be quick.

It wasn’t.

Two seconds after finishing his juice the little tyrant, started kicking the seat again.

“Honey, don’t kick. The nice lady in front of you doesn’t like it.”

No kidding. Actually, I can’t think of anyone I know who would like it!

“I WANT SOME COKE.”

The unpleasant child continued to yell and kick over Lake Michigan, farmlands, fields, cities, and lakes, while Mother Obliv did little to stop him.

I, in the mean time was getting whip lash. Each time I tried to raise the glass to my mouth, my seat back jumped. Reading was out of the question because I couldn’t focus on the pages.

Looking at #2, I apologized.

“For what?”

“For this.” I’d had enough of the devil child and turned to speak with his mother. I surprised myself…my tone was less harsh then I intended. “Excuse me, could you please make him stop kicking the seat?”

She looked at me as if I had two heads. “Well, he has very little room here.”

“Really? He’s four. He’s got more room then any other passenger on the plane."

Ms. Oblivious didn‘t seem to confident when she told me, “Ok, I’ll try.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I do understand the difficulty of traveling with small children. However, allowing a child to cause so much discomfort for the other seventeen people on this plane was beyond anything I would have allowed when mine were young. The solution Mother Obliv came up with was to remove the kids shoes. This resulted in a new tantrum.

“PUT MY SHOES BACK ON!”

“I can’t honey, the lady in front of you says you can’t have shoes on until we land.”

Ok, I never said that. In fact I don’t believe I ever said anything about the darn shoes. It was the feet in them, kicking, kicking, kicking, that I spoke of.

“I WANT MY SHOES ON!”

At exactly forty-five minutes, thirty-seven seconds into the flight (which was a one-hour and five minute trip), Mother Oblivious finally cracked. “Stop it. Right this minute. You can’t have your shoes on and stop kicking the seat, before that lady yells at you!”

Now wait just a doggone minute. I do not yell at other peoples kids. Mother Oblivious I have no problem yelling at. After all, if she had put the kid in the seat without the car seat he wouldn’t be sitting so far forward he didn’t have enough room to move. Also, what ever happened to pre-planning for the entertainment of a child on a plane. Get a clue - bring a coloring book, a toy, something, anything to keep them busy. Oy Vey. Instead tell the kid I’m going to yell at him -- brilliant! (end rant)

The stewardess, bless her, walked down the aisle to speak with the mother. “I’m sorry, but you really need to try and get him to stop screaming.”

“I HAVE TO GO POTTY!”

I think everyone on the plane smiled. Mom Obliv was gonna have to take the kid out of his seat and lock herself in the bathroom with the devil child.

Apparently, Mother Oblivious decided the bathroom was the best place to remain for the duration of the flight, because the two of them didn’t return to their seats until the captain announced we were starting our final approach.

Once we were wheels down, I quickly exited the plane, #2 in tow and made for the terminal. I wanted to be as far away from Oblivious and Brat as possible.

"It would have only taken five hours to drive." #2 smiled.

"Ok, next time we drive."

We made haste to exit the airport and find our way to the car rental office. Finally, in Michigan we could get to our hotel and relax for awhile. All I wanted was a hot shower, some food, and a good nights sleep…

That would not be the last time I said those words in the next twelve hours - Stay tuned for the continuing story…one I call - Nightmare on Center Street

Sunday Trivia - Name That Rock

2010-07-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

Gutzon Borglum designed the sculpture

Built during the third and fourth Dynasty

Rises 1267 feet above the Belle Fourche River

Can be found in San Juan County, Utah

Jutting from the water in Port Campbell National Park

Owes its façade to its composition of chalk accentuated by streaks of black flint

Mountain carving was begun in 1948

Found fame through the 1974 film starring arch-villain Scaramanga

Most widely-recognized landmark in Arches National Park

Western most point of the Isle of Wight

Located on the shores of the upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy

The granite crest rises more than 4,737 ft above the valley

Located about twelve miles west from Courthouse Rock and Jailhouse Rock

A strategic landmark in Sedona

45.52 carats, deep-blue girls best friend

;)

President Trivia - The Answers

2010-07-18T02:46:00.000-07:00

1. George Washington grew marijuana on his farm (hemp, people, for making rope)

2. John Adams had a pet alligator

3. Thomas Jefferson was an avid inventor who is credited with inventing the coat hanger, hideaway bed and dumbwaiter

4. James Madison was the first president to have an inaugeration ball

5. William Harrison was the only President who studied to be a medical doctor

6. Martin Van Buren was the first president of the United States to be born in the United States

7. Andrew Jackson was the only President in American History to pay off the national debt and leave office with the country in the black (let's re-elect him who ever he was!!)

8. John Adams was swimming naked in Potomac River when a reporter, Anny Royal came to the shore, and sat on his clothes. She would not rise, until the president would give an interview. She was the first female to ever interview a president (wouldn't that be 'naked President?)

9. John Tyler was playing marbles when informed that he had become president upon the death of Harrison (oh, so that's what the Vice President does.)

10. James Polk the first president in office to have his photo taken in 1849

11. Zachary Taylor died in office in 1850 of "acute indigestion" after polishing off a bowl of cherries

12. Franklin Peirce was once a grave digger and a funeral organ player

13. Abraham Lincoln used his hat as a suitcase to carried letters, notes and bills (explains the hat nicely)

14. Ulysses Grant issued a speeding ticket for $20 for riding his horse too fast down a Washington street (speed limits for horses, the mind boggles)

15. Rutherford Hayes was the first president to use telephone - his phone number was 1

16. James Garfield could write in Latin with one hand, while writing in Greek with the other hand at the same time

17. Harry Truman was playing poker when he learned he was to be president

18. Dwight Eisenhower his favorite dessert was prune whip (that's just wrong!)

19. Lyndon Johnson his desk chair in the oval office was actually a vinyl helicopter seat

20. Richard Nixon the first and only President who resigned in his office

21. Gerald Ford was once a male model

22. Jimmy Carter was the first President born in a hospital

23. Ronald Regan during his presidency, the White House ordered 12 tons of jellybeans (that's like 24,000 pounds.)

24. George H. Bush threw up on the prime minister of Japan

25. Bill Clinton is a Kentucky Colonel (LOL, true - go look it up)

26. George W. Bush was a cheerleader at Andover

27. Benjamin Harrison was the first president to use electricity in the White House

28. William Taft was so fat, he got stuck in a bathtub

29. Warren Harding played poker at least twice a week and once put an entire set of White House china up to stake his hand. He lost the hand and the china

30. Franklin Roosevelt the first president to have his own airplane

:)

Sorcerer's Apprentice

2010-07-17T20:08:00.000-07:00

I know I’ve said it in a lot of reviews, but I’m all woman and when I can watch a good looking man - one Nicholas Cage - looking oh so hot-stud-muffin-I-want-him-in-my-Christmas-stocking, on the silver screen for 109 minutes, it’s a great day!

Sorcerer’s Apprentice was everything you could want in a fantasy film. Action, adventure, cool special effects, and I’m gonna say it again - good looking men! There is just something about Mr. Cage and that long hair, devil may care, looking for the woman I loved and lost, that makes a girl tingle.

Okay, about the movie ~smiles~. It all starts with Merlin. Having trained three apprentices in the fine art of sorcery, he fights the evil Morgana to protect us frail humans from destruction. Not all goes well and things being what they are, only one of his original apprentices, Balthazar Blake makes it into the twenty-first century, at least in the flesh.

Merlin leaves Balthazar a task which he spends over a thousand years trying to fulfill. With the help of Merlin’s ring, Balthazar must find the one and only human who the ring will accept.

Bring on the nerd - Dave, played by Jay Baruchel and let the games begin. To call Dave an unenthusiastic protégé is an understatement of epic proportions. Frankly, Dave doesn’t seem to have what it takes to defeat the forces of evil and save mankind. Never one to give up, Balthazar marshal's his courage and attempts to turn a physics geek into the savior of the world. Good luck with that!

Toss in a beautiful woman of the here and now to distract our young apprentice and another beautiful woman from the past to haunt our hero Balthazar, magic jars, dragons, a lot of magic and a little science and you can imagine the demolition of a large swath’s of New York City.

There was a little violence, a little humor, and a lot of Nicholas Cage. What more could I ask for on a Saturday afternoon at the theater?

If you haven’t seen Sorcerer’s Apprentice yet, take ye to the local theater and watch it. Oh, and for those of you who remember Mickey in Disney’s Fantasia you won‘t be disappointed with the mop scene.

Sorcerer’s Apprentice is definitely going on my DVD shelf for repeated viewing.

4.75 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Kidney Stone

2010-07-15T12:42:00.000-07:00

The Longest 90 Minutes In History.

Or at least my history. The history I can remember, that's it. I'm going to tell you about a time - way back before I became a grand mother and was only a mother-in-law ~grinz~. As you may have guessed this is about my son-in-law -- when having a son-in-law was fairly new to me.

My Friday started like any other school day, jump out of bed, chug two cups of coffee, check email, and yell every five minutes for the kid to hurry up and get ready. Rush out in the cold to start the car so it can warm up, yell at the kid again, “yer gonna be late”, then drive like a mad woman to get him to school on time. Is it any wonder I have to wait til I get home before doing my hair and make-up?

About nine o'clock I had a cup of coffee in hand, hot rollers in my hair and mascara on one eye, when the phone rang.

“Hello,” I said, catching it on the third ring.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

Ok, most mothers will understand when a child calls and asks what you’re doing, it usually means your schedule is about to go out the window.

“Putting on mascara. Why?”

There was a pause.

~light bulb~ My oldest daughter’s voice had actually sounded a little strained, sending my motheradar to high. “What’s wrong?”

She beat round the bush for about five seconds, explaining why it was impossible for her to leave work.

"Got it, you're busy. And?"

"Jeff called. He has a sharp pain and needs help. Can you to take him to the hospital, or if it’s really bad call an ambulance?”

After assuring her I was out the door, as soon as I got the rollers out of my hair, I used my super mom lightening speed button to be on my way in less then 60 seconds. As I drove the three miles to my daughter’s house, it occurred to me, I'd never asked her where his sharp pain was located. For all I knew he could be lying on the floor by the time I arrive. Fumbling in my purse I found my cell phone (you know the one I have but never use, never even turn on unless I’m on a long trip, and the only time I use it is to call home). Sorry, wandered there for a moment . . . anyway as I made the final turn I had the phone on and ready to dial 9-1-1 if necessary.

Jumping out of the car I ran to the front door only to have it open as I grabbed for the handle. There in front of me stood my son-in-law, tears running down his face, holding his side.

“What hurts?” I know, dumb question, but I was multi-tasking in my mind.

“My side.”

“Do you have your appendix?” I asked this question as I was helping him to the car.

“Yes," he moaned. "Do you think that’s what it is?”

“I don’t know, I can never remember what side it’s on. But it could be.”

Having gotten him in the car, I slammed the door, ran around to the drivers side and headed for the local hospital. Since I didn’t have one of those little red-flashing lights on top of my car it took about fifteen minutes to get there and find a parking space.

The next problem was getting him inside. Poor guy was in so much pain he was having trouble staying on his feet. I found him an empty chair in the hallway outside the waiting room, which by the way was very crowded. I had visions of him passing out while we awaited our turn. After adding his name to the list of patients stacked up like cord wood at the mill, I scanned the waiting room to assess the seriousness of the other’s.

No one was bleeding, check.
No one was crying, check.
No one was doubled over in pain, check.

Ok, I said to myself . . . we are jumping to the front of the line. Actually, I think this is why the kids called me in the first place. They knew I could take the emergency room bull by the horn and toss him lightly out of the way in my efforts to get a doctor for the newest addition to the family.

With that in mind, I went to work. Now, don’t get me wrong, I did wait at the triage nurses window for two minutes before I started looking for someone else to help. That could be a record.

After getting the attention of the registration clerk, by pounding on the window of her closed office, I motioned for her to open the door. I do have one of those non-threatening smiles, which comes in handy for these types of situations.
Once I explained the seriousness of my reason for being there, she found the triage nurse.

Less then five minutes after arriving in the emergency room, we were being helped into the triage cubicle, where they asked my son-in-law, “where exactly does it hurt?”

He showed Nurse Triage, “from here to here.”

Glancing over at me, she gave us her diagnoses, “kidney stones!”

Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen our emergency room staff move that fast. The dear boy was whisked off to the back and I was ordered to sit with the registration clerk and complete some papers.

“Ok. Yes. Whatever you say, just take care of him!”

This is where the fun started. Mind you I was still worried as heck about Jeff, but really, they expected me to do paperwork. ~head tilt!~

Sitting at the registration desk I waited for the first question.

“What’s his name?”

"Jeff."

“Date of birth?”

“I don’t know.”

“Social security number?”

“Hum, I don't know.”

“Is he allergic to any medicines?”

“Again, not in my data base.”

“Are you related to him?”

“Yes.”

Her eyebrows rose at least two inches. It was like she didn't believe me. "How are you related to him?"

"I'm his mother-in-law."

“Oh.”

Ok, what does ‘oh’ mean. Just because I’m a mother-in-law does not mean I don't know things. Granted I didn't know much about the medical history of my son-in-law, but I knew some things. She was just asking the wrong questions.

Looking pretty unimpressed with me, Ms. Registration Clerk asked, “do you know anything that will help find him in our system?”

Aha, "as a matter of fact I do.”

“And that would be?”

“The phone number of my daughter’s office.” Which I offered to dial for her, so she could ask the expert for my son-in-law’s medical history. A few moments later, I was relieved of duty and the registration clerk and my daughter were chatting up a storm.

I went on my way to find where they had deposited my charge.

Now before I continue this story I have to tell you there are three things that I don’t handle well at all . . . the sight of blood, sitting bedside and being comforting when someone has the ‘I gotta toss my cookies look’ and needles.

Ok, back to the story . . .

Nurse Triage met me in the hallway and escorted me to the room where my son-in-law’s moaning could be heard bouncing off the walls. "You can go in," she said from behind me. Without thinking I opened the door and saw a nurse trying to stick a two-foot needle into Jeff's vein. Turning quickly, I smacked into Nurse Triage, who was three inches behind me.

“Are you all right?” Her inquire, I'm sure was prompted by the lack of color in my face.

I said the only words I could get out, "need chair.”

Helping me to a seat nearby, I was banished from the room while they completed their task of sticking needles in my daughter’s hubby.

Unfortunately, I was too quick to assume they were done. Moments after Nurse Efficient and Nurse T. left the room, Nurse Needle walked in with a tray. In a very happy voice she informed the darling boy, thrashing on the bed that she was going to rescue him from pain by injecting large amounts of demurrel directly into his blood stream. It was at this point I notice what was on the tray, oy vey!!

“Where’s the coffee?” I asked, leaving the room with unladylike haste. Finding a phone I called my daughter to update her on our progress and let her know they were drugging the dear boy out of his mind.

I waited about fifteen minutes before I headed back down the hall to check on things. When I opened the door to the room, I discovered it was -- empty -- oh for crying out loud, so much for my daughter’s confidence in me. I'd misplaced her husband.

Finding the nurse, I inquired, “Where the heck did you take him.”

“To x-ray, he'll be back soon.”

~wiping sweat from brow~ Ok. Good. I'm off the hook. I hadn't lost him; they had simply taken him for tests.

Breathe Michelle, breathe.

Before long, the x-ray tech was pushing the bed back into the room. I think my son-in-law was on the bed; however, I must say . . . WOW!! I didn’t know they made x-ray techs who looked like that. Somewhere in the distance I could hear moaning, however I was involved in a deep conversation about lead protection with Mr. OhMy. While the moaning continued somewhere behind me I chatted with the tech, who was explaining to me "the pain of kidney stones is similar to delivering a baby."

What? I couldn't have heard him right.

"I've actually been told it's more painful then childbirth," Mr. NotSo OhMy, was saying.

Stupid boy!! I was quick to explain that after having three children, which made me an expert, if the pain of kidney stones on a scale of one to ten is a twelve, having a baby is a friggin twenty, so take your cute little butt, and go back to the x-ray department.

Turning my attention once again to the task at hand, I inquired if the still thrashing patient needed anything.

“A bucket.”

This of course was my cue to exit the room as quickly as possible and find Nurse E., who gets paid to provide all the needed support and equipment to handle the current situation. Once Nurse Efficient was on the job, I went to see if the coffee was still hot and called my daughter with another update.

Some time later, Nurse E. let me know it was safe to return to the room. I had just taken a seat when another tech arrived to inform me they were taking my charge for a C.A.T. scan. I found it interesting all these tests were being done and we had yet to meet a doctor. Must be those advances in medicine they keep talking about.

Alone in the room again I took the opportunity to explore a little . . . they have a lot of interesting gadgets in emergency room rooms.

Again, with no assistance from me the hospital staff managed to return the dear boy to the right room. This was going very fast so far, which was good because the demurral they gave him didn’t seem to be doing much for the pain.

Ok, now this is where things happened really quickly so bear with me because I can only type so fast.

My son-in-law groaned.
Nurse Efficient opened the door.
Jeff, his teeth grinding growled, “where the hell did the bucket go?”
Nurse Efficient moved quickly to find missing bucket.
Enter Doctor Clueless.
Trying to escape before my stomach, which is on auto gag gives out, Doctor Clueless decides he needs to speak with me.
Nurse Efficient has found bucket.
Son-in-law is leaning over side of bed.
Doctor Clueless tells Jeff he needs him to stop tossing his cookies for a moment because he needs to speak with him.
Dear S-I-L tells Doctor Clueless "ya as soon as I’m done puking my guts out doc, I'm all yours.”

I have to say Doctor Clueless lived up to his name. As Nurse E. continued to help the patient with his problem, Doctor Clueless told Jeff he'd have to take a break from the bucket because he needed to explain what was happening.

Okay, you know me ~grinz~ I just couldn't let it rest, “I think he can figure this part out without assistance from you, Doc.”

This seemed to send Doctor Clueless into a tail spin. He spent the next several minutes scribbling on his tablet and mumbling at his shoes, which was fine with me, as long as he wasn’t being stupid.

Before long Nurse E. exited the room and Doctor C., with much authority and the proper amount of seriousness, gave his diagnoses. "You have a kidney stone.”

No. Really. Why did we need a doctor? Nurse Triage had told us that an hour ago. However, I kept my mouth shut and listened as Dr. Clueless continued to drone on.

“Not much we can do except give you some pain pills and send you home. If it still hurts in a couple of days come back.” Wow, and he gets paid the big buck; hard to imagine. At this point Dr. C (at least I think he was a doctor, he never did give me his degree, or any proof that he was actually a doctor, however he had the stethoscope so I didn’t argue with him), wrote prescriptions and told me the nurse would be in to give us discharge instructions in a couple of minutes.

Looking at my poor son-in-law, still blue around the gills and looking as sick as he did when we arrived, I had my doubts about taking him home. Silly me, the nurse did not intend to send him home . . . at least not yet.

Nurse Needle returned, this time with a dose of demurral so large it could have knocked out twelve patients and moments after she attached it to the IV needle my charge went to La La Land.

With a little concern in my voice I asked, “How am I suppose to get him to the car?”

“You're not." Nurse Efficient assured me, "At least not yet.”

“But the doctor said he was discharging him.”

“Yes, he did discharge him, but he can't leave until we get some fluids in him.”

I guess I need to look up the word 'discharge' when I get home.

Almost as if on cue another nurse arrived with a very large bag of clear stuff which Nurse Efficient attached to the IV needle in Jeff’s arm.

“When this is gone, you can go.” She informed me.

“And how long is 'this' going to take?”

“Oh at least an hour.”

Looking at the patient again, I noticed the snoring had overtaken groaning and he seemed comfy. I informed the nurse I was gonna sneak out for a bit and get some lunch.

“No problem, we'll take good care of him.”

So off I went to my daughter’s office to take her to lunch and fill her in. Like a good mother-in-law, I arrived back at the hospital in an hour. When I entered the room and looked at the bag, I noticed it was just as full as it was when I’d left. Walking over to the IV machine, I soon realized nothing was happening.

Opening the door I called for Nurse Efficient.

After a quick look see, she discovered my son-in-law, in his drug induced sleep, had pulled his arms up tight against his body, and crimped the tube, effectively stopping the flow of fluid. So much for 'taking good care of him' while I was out lunching.

The nurse attempted to wake Jeff, ya right . . . I'd seen the size of the demurral injection they'd given him. Realizing she couldn’t wake him, she pulled his arm straight and in a stern voice told him to keep it that way. Her eyes however were focused on me, silently suggesting if I wanted to get out of there this year, I’d best make sure he didn’t move again.

Here is where the drip of the IV became my only chore. This chore required that I stand next to the bed and hold my son-in-laws arm so he couldn’t pull it back tight, not an easy task I’ll tell you.

One and a half hours later, I was still waiting for that friggin bag to run out of fluid. The shift change in the emergency room was over and a new nurse was assigned to our room. Let's call her Nurse Get 'Em Movin. Bouncing into the room, Nurse Get 'Em Moving asked, “How’s it going?”

Pointing to the IV bag, I shrugged.

“Oh we can handle that.” I watched as she took the bag from the pole and in a matter of minutes had squeezed the remaining contents into his arm. She assured me in an emergency she could push a bag of fluid into a patient in five minutes. I didn’t get in her way.

Not too many minutes after Nurse Get 'Em Movin took control, Jeff was awake, all be it, still swaying, and trying to focus on her instructions for what to do once I got him home. Thankfully, the demurral wore off enough to get him into the car without problems and finally I headed back home.

I’m happy to report Jeff recovered quickly and it's been eight years and no kidney stones since. I know a lot more about my son-in-law now . . . his middle name, his date of birth, even the color of his eyes. If you want to know anything else, you still need to ask his wife.

:)

Chin? What Chin?

2010-07-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

(Another installment from my Journal of a Football Mom.)

Its 2:36 pm on the west coast, the sun is shining and the temperature is a beautiful 73 degrees. It's hard to remember yesterday was cold, wet, and dreary.

When the yellow orb arrives (the sun to others), we who choose to live in this delightful state, peer out of our homes with wonder on our faces and ask “who turned on the lights?”

My son will be happy at this afternoon’s football practice because the grass should be dry for the first time since they started the new season. Today his practice jersey will not be covered in mud, his legs will not be covered in mud, and hopefully the rest of him will be mud free as well.

The bruise on his chin is almost gone, wait, did I tell you about that? No! Well let me back up then. Last week when he got out of the shower after practice and there was no longer dried mud covering his face, I noticed a rather large, long, red welt on his chin. Like any concerned mother I inquired, "What did you do to your chin."

Placing his finger on his face, he said “what's wrong with my chin?"

"Perhaps looking in a mirror might give you a clue, son."

He dutifully went back in the bathroom to examine his injury. Walking back into the office he stated. "Um. Not sure."

"Um. Not sure what it is or not sure how you got it?"

"Both."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nope."

Ok, about this time I realized we were at our standard one word answer to every question I might pose, so I decided I'd try one more time to extract information.

"Did you get hit or maybe stepped on? Did your chin strap get caught? Did one of the girls at school clobber you?"

"Its football mom, how am I supposed to know?"

Well it wasn't a one word answer, you gotta like that. "I know its football son. I'm just trying to figure out how you ended up with a welt that large on your face and how you could get it without knowing."

Giving me that look, which clearly said, here we go again, trying to explain to Mom things she has no hope of understanding, he stated. "It just happens some times. You end up at the bottom of the pile and get stepped on. It's no big deal, I'm fine."

That pretty much ended the conversation, well that, and the fact he went in the kitchen to find something to eat.

A few minutes later I joined my son in the living room. Sitting on the couch, I hit the mute button on the TV and asked him, “so how was practice?”

“Fine.”

“Do you like the coaches?”

“Yes.”

“Are you getting excited about camp next week?”

“Yep.”

That was it; I know when I’m defeated. Smiling, I handed him the remote and allowed him to go back to his cartoons and pizza rolls.

It wasn’t until the next morning on the drive to school that my son filled me in on all the details of his practices. I found out the coach has made him a strong side, outside line backer on defense. I now know they have him lining up against the varsity offense and he is holding his own against guys a lot bigger then him. He told me, he is still trying out for the position of wide receiver on the offense, and finally, he told me not to worry about his chin because it really didn’t hurt.

As I listened to him chatter about his time on the practice field I realized something important - wait until morning to ask questions!

:)

Twilight Saga: Eclipse

2010-07-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

I can sum this movie up in two words repeating for two hours and five minutes - fight, love, fight, love. Don’t get me wrong, the fight scenes were pretty darn good. Although there was something about the ballet studio scene in Twilight that tugged more at the heart strings. I miss that slow build up to our hero, Edward, coming to Bella’s rescue. Speaking of Edward Cullen, aka Robert Pattinson, he just keeps getting better. I didn’t miss the bouffant hair or peacoat at all ~smiles~.

Now about those love scenes - well, to be honest - where’s the chemistry? Again, going back to the first movie, oh my, talk about heat up the screen between Edward and Bella. That first, slow, painful kiss sizzled with unexplored passion. I don’t think either director of New Moon or Eclipse captured the raw obsession between our struggling couple. There were brief moments when it looked like our hero and heroine would spark, but alas, someone yelled cut and the moments were lost.

Everyone who knows me knows I’m Team Edward. I’ve been a fan of Robert Pattinson since before he walked onto the silver screen as Edward Cullen. I also liked the Edward character when I read the books, so of course, the scenes with Jacob and Bella didn’t really make me a happy audience member. Although, since I know the outcome of this somewhat strange love triangle, I was willing to sit through the whining, indecision of our heroine, albeit grudgingly.

Eclipse had yet another director and the different style of filming makes it seem like a disjointed continuation of the first two movies instead of a seamless saga. I’m a little worried about how they are going to pull off the last one, since the ageless vampires seem to be aging, but hey, maybe that’s what airbrushing is for.

Movie vs. Book. Once again, while they tried to sort of stay true to the book, they fell short in my opinion. A couple of my favorite lines from the book were glaringly absent from the movie. I understand the need to have a movie flow in a seemingly natural way, but I find it frustrating when they add scenes that were never in the book, instead of following the storyline the book fans loved. After all, if the book was so successful what is wrong with using more of it in the movie?

I don’t think there is enough vampire carnage in this movie to make guys want to see it, unless of course, they are dragged to the theater by their girlfriends. And, frankly those folks in the front row with the four little kids (all under age 5) really should have left the kids at home.

This movie is not a stand alone film. I believe if you’ve read the books and seen the first two movies you will appreciate it more. If you haven’t read the books or seen the first two films, you’re most likely going to come away wondering what it was all about.

In the end, I enjoyed the movie, but, I went in to it knowing it wasn’t going to be Oscar material. I will add Twilight Saga: Eclipse to my DVD shelf and watch it again.

3.75 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Sunday Trivia - Presidents

2010-07-11T09:50:00.000-07:00

I’m gonna get the boring disclaimer out of the way first - This blog is intended to be entertaining - I mean no disrespect to the men or the office they held, it's just nice to know they were once regular folk, just like us (lol).

Okay, on with the blog. . .

I’m always intrigued by what I find when I type the following into a search engine - strange/weird. Not so long ago it was my day to blog on my publishers site and since it was close to President’s day, I decided to see what I could find (strange/weird) on U.S. Presidents. ~smiles~

What I found was a lot of very interesting stuff.

It got me to thinking (always dangerous). Could I have figured out which President did what? LOL, I decided my answer would be - “No, are you nuts.”

But, I figured what the heck. Grab some info and see if anyone who reads the blog can match the President to the deed. So for your Sunday enjoyment (fingers crossed) I’m posting this little trivia game here for ya’ll to enjoy.

It’s easy to play and there are only 44 U.S. Presidents, so your chances are pretty good ~smiles~.

Have fun!

1. grew marijuana on his farm (hemp, people, for making rope)

2. had a pet alligator

3. was an avid inventor who is credited with inventing the coat hanger, hideaway bed and dumbwaiter

4. was the first president to have an inaugeration ball

5. was the only President who studied to be a medical doctor

6. was the first president of the United States to be born in the United States

7. was the only President in American History to pay off the national debt and leave office with the country in the black (let's re-elect him who ever he was!!)

8. was swimming naked in Potomac River when a reporter, Anny Royal came to the shore, and sat on his clothes. She would not rise, until the president would give an interview. She was the first female to ever interview a president (wouldn't that be 'naked President?)

9. was playing marbles when informed that he had become president upon the death of Harrison (oh, so that's what the Vice President does.)

10. the first president in office to have his photo taken in 1849

11. died in office in 1850 of "acute indigestion" after polishing off a bowl of cherries

12. was once a grave digger and a funeral organ player

13. used his hat as a suitcase to carry letters, notes, and bills (explains the hat nicely)

14. issued a speeding ticket for $20 for riding his horse too fast down a Washington street (speed limits for horses, the mind boggles)

15. was the first president to use telephone - his phone number was 1

16. could write in Latin with one hand, while writing in Greek with the other hand at the same time

17. was playing poker when he learned he was to be president

18. his favorite dessert was prune whip (that's just wrong!)

19. his desk chair in the oval office was actually a vinyl helicopter seat

20. the first and only President who resigned in his office

21. was once a male model

22. was the first President born in a hospital

23. during his presidency, the White House ordered 12 tons of jellybeans (that's like 24,000 pounds.)

24. threw up on the prime minister of Japan

25. is a Kentucky Colonel (LOL, true - go look it up)

26. was a cheerleader at Andover

27. was the first president to use electricity in the White House

28. was so fat, he got stuck in a bathtub

29. played poker at least twice a week and once put an entire set of White House china up to stake his hand. He lost the hand and the china

30. the first president to have his own airplane

Have a safe and happy Sunday!
Michelle

:)

Oldie of the Week - Shattered

2010-07-10T20:00:00.000-07:00

Shattered
Butterfly on a Wheel (2007) R

Let me start by saying - Gerard Butler and Pierce Brosnan in the same movie - oh yummy.

The movie starts by showing us the wonderful life of Neil and Abby (Maria Bello) Randall. The big house, good job, loving marriage, and adorable child. We watch as Neil claws his way up the corporate ladder, leaving deep wounds in the backs of his co-workers. It seems nothing can stop him from reaching the top - a partnership in the firm.

But, is all well in the suburbs of Chicago? Abby is turning thirty and seems to be wistful of the career she left behind to be a full time mother. Neil is a little too caught up in his climb to glory and somehow you get the feeling thing aren’t what they appear to be.

Life is Shattered when a madman - using an accomplice, abducts their daughter and takes mom and dad on a 24 hour psychological, do as your told or your daughter dies, nightmare ride.

Jumping from one timed task to the next, the couple tries to appease Mr. Psycho, failing repeatedly. Tempted to contact the police - standing ten feet away in several scenes, Neil and Abby talk each other out of the thought; aware one false move may cost their daughter her life.

It doesn’t take long to realize the lunatic is out to destroy everything the couple has - money, career, friends, love, trust - he wants them beaten down to nothing. He is testing them to see how far a parent will go for the life of their child.

Shattered is billed as a psychological thriller and it is. Although it didn’t take me too long to figure out at least one plot twist wasn’t going to be a twist for me. I’m not going to tell you what tipped me off, lets just say you need to be paying attention in two different scenes to catch on to one of them. As for the second, they got me! I didn’t see it coming.

If you like good old fashion crime dramas with a psychological edge you will most likely enjoy Shattered. Kudos to director Mike Barker for a job well done.

4 Hot Buttered Popcorns

:0

Family Reunion - Oh My - Part 3

2010-07-10T08:07:00.000-07:00

Continuing saga - still in Texas

Day Four - Doing Dallas

Although I’ve adjusted to the heat - a little (not really ~sob~) I’ve decided it’s best if I don’t wear make-up while in Texas unless I plan to go out. Frankly, it’s a waste of time no matter what, because it just melts right off my face in the heat, (not a pretty picture - trust me).

Not sure if I told you this, but #2 and her family live out of town . . . on a hill . . . on five acres . . . it's very pretty. HOT, but pretty. The best thing of all is the porch swing, which I spend many hours in once the sun goes down. It's peaceful, quiet, and a great place to write.

There are three dogs, two cats, and a lovely little thing called fire ants . . . for such a small creature these ants have a big, I'm talking big sting when they bite. I've learned to steer clear of fire ants. The dogs and cats however are all friendly this trip, unlike my last visit when the dogs thought it was lots of fun to keep me pinned on the couch if my sister was not in the room. This time they seem to have accepted my position (honored guest) in the house . . . Or it could be the treats I'm sneaking to them when no one is looking.

After taking a shower - talk about pain in the rear - in Texas, in July, it‘s so hot you can’t dry off before the sweat covers you again. It’s like trying to stop a river from flowing. And, don’t even get me started on trying to pull jeans up sweat soaked legs, Oy Vey!

Thankfully, #2 has AC in the car.

The car you ask?

Why yes, after all as the title suggests, we are doing Dallas today, ~squee~ It’s 9 am, and we are leaving in a few minutes. I have no idea where we are going, except Dallas. There are a few places on my list of things to see before I leave Texas this time, however, the heat has pretty much beaten me down and unless I can view it from the car, through the window, without having to roll it down, I’m planning to cut them from the list.

Go ahead, you can say it . . . “high maintenance”

Damn straight! And proud of it. ~sweet smile~

Okay, #2 is ready to leave . . . I’ll add to this post when we get back. Oh, wish me luck.

I’m back . . . Did ya'll miss me?

Here’s the low down, down low, up high, and over/under of the car ride in pictures. (disclaimer: I didn’t actually take any of these pictures because frankly I wouldn’t allow #2 to stop so I could step from the car and get a clear shot, nor was I willing to roll down the window so I could show you pictures of our trip. I told you it’s hot enough here to melt make-up. These are pictures I dug up on the internet. I am not in any of them) ~grinz~

Granbury Square

I love this place. They have ice cream!!

This is Fort Worth, I have no idea why there are horses, but hey, isn't it purdy?

The Dallas skyline - soooo pretty . . . so much glass, oy vey the glare from those buildings is blinding. Where are my darker shades?

Dealey Plaza - such a sad day in history.

Okay. This is amazing. I actually did leave the car to get up close and personal with these bad boys. There are like 40 bronze, long horn cattle, along with bronze cowboys on horseback. This work of art stretchs for several city blocks, or at least it seemed like blocks in the heat. I may have had heat stroke, so don't hold me to any of the numbers given here. (another disclaimer: seriously, I did get out of the car.)

~The End~

Oh wait . . . for the ride home, scroll back up and look at the pictures in reverse ~grinz~

In the morning we head to Michigan and the family reunion. I plan to have the rental car on stand by for a fast get away if need be. This family of mine may never be the same once they meet me after all these years. I'm sure some of them still picture me as the sweet, innocent, smiling child I once was. Oh well...we will find out tomorrow.

:)

What's in a name, anyway?

2010-07-08T13:23:00.000-07:00

(My son, who is twenty and living in another city played football from the time he was in fifth grade. This post is from my Journal of a Football Mom.)

As a mother, I put a lot of thought into naming my children. My oldest daughter went two days without a name because we couldn’t decide if she looked like Nicole, Jennifer, or Stephanie. We settled on Nicole, much to the delight of the nurses, who seemed to think it was odd we didn’t have a name picked out in advance.

I learned the unimportance of a first name when my son hit middle school. I was used to the coaches at the grade school calling him Hoppe. It’s a sports thing. What I didn’t realize was his first name would become one of the great unknowns.

Instead of James, my son is known as Hop, Hoppe, Hopsters, Hop-A-Long, The Hop, Ghetto Hoppe (don’t ask, he’s been dressing himself for years and it’s not my fault), and several others I can’t think of at the moment. On the flip side, my son has names for all his friends that in no way resemble their actual first name either. Usually it’s some slang of the last name or a nickname only the boys understand.

As a result of this, I couldn’t tell you the first name of any of my son’s friends. Honest, I really thought his best friends name was Dixon. Don’t tell me that can’t be a first name, it could ~smiles~.

Yesterday was the mandatory meeting for next year’s football team. When I arrived at the high school, oh gaud, he’s in high school. My baby is growing up . . . don’t anyone tell him I called him my baby, for goodness sake. He is now taller then I am and at least five times stronger. But I digress.

Arriving at the meeting, I saw all the young men my son has played football with for the last four years. All of them have been to my house. I should know their names and yet, I don’t. Anyway, when I walked into the little theater, they turned as one and in less then gentle voices, exclaimed. “Hey Hop, it’s your mom.“

“Hi Hop’s mom.”

When did I become Hop’s mom? I have a name, really I do. My daughters’ friends all called me by this name when they were in school . . . it’s Mrs. Hoppe. Granted a lot of their close friends called me mom, they still do, but never Hop’s mom.

Again, it must be a boy thing. I guess I don’t mind being called Hop’s mom, there are worse things they could call me I’m sure.

Back to the meeting.

After the boys all greeted me, I told James I would find a seat in the back and would see him after the meeting. I turned around to find a place to sit with the other mom’s only to discover -- there were no other mom’s. There were no dad’s in attendance either. Apparently, this mandatory meeting was for the boys. I had arranged my schedule to attend unnecessarily. I turned and looked to see if my son and his friends had noticed my confusion and am happy to report they were engaged in a game of keep away with someone’s hat.

Trying to look un-concerned I took a seat in the back of the room, I had fifty or so chairs to choose from so it was difficult deciding which one to use, however, settled on one in the middle. Twice my son turned to see if I was hanging in there, his smile reassured me it was ok I had attended.

It wasn’t long before the coaching staff arrived and for the next forty-five minutes I pretended to listen as the head coach explained why high school football is not like middle school football. He lost me at “welcome to high school football.” I sat through the entire meeting, eyes glazed over and thinking of a possible twist for my new book. I’m sure my son was paying attention and will be able to fill me in on anything really important.

After the meeting broke up, the boys headed to the locker room to get outfitted with gear. My son looks like he’s four times his normal size once they get all the pads and stuff on him. This exercise took over an hour and by the time he returned to the car it was a little over two hours out of my day to attend a meeting I didn’t need to attend.

When James (I'm not calling him Hoppe unless he's on the football field) got in the car, having tossed his gear in the back seat, he started talking about all the upcoming football events. First we have spring training, which starts this afternoon. At the end of June is football camp, five days at Eastern Washington University learning how to hit someone with a helmet and put them on the ground. Beginning July 1st we get to have a month of weight training, then in August we get serious with fall training. (We = James, LOL. I'm strictly taxi, cheerleader, laundry lady, and number one fan.) Their first game is September 3rd and the fun continues through November.

I know one difference between middle school football and high school football -- the time involved. I don’t think my son will be crying boredom this summer . . . not if his coaches have any say in it.

:)

The Last Airbender

2010-07-05T08:43:00.000-07:00

Kicks butt - at times.

Great effects - also, at times.

Worth the wait - I'm gonna say yes.

The Last Airbender is based on an animated television series: Avatar: The Last Airbender. I sort of knew that, although I thought it was a comic book before it became an animated series, aka: cartoon. I have never read a book or seen the cartoon, however the preview for this movie caught my attention the first time I saw it. There was just something that appealed to the paranormal side of me. Connie on the other hand - not so much ~smiles~.

After dinner out, a long wait in line, and checking for broken seats (before we sat), Connie, KK, and I settled in to see what this movie had to offer in the way of entertainment. The theater was a little crowded, mostly teenagers and single dads, looking for something to keep the kids busy for a couple of hours.

It was apparent from the moment we stepped into theater number 5 that there were serious Airbender fans in the house. One gentleman had gone so far as to shave his head and tattoo his scalp from the base of his neck to just above the bridge of his nose. It took the twenty something friend of my son, who was sitting in front of us, to explain it had to do with the Avatar character in the movie.

The Last Airbender plot centers on four nations, Air, Water, Earth, and Fire. Each having citizens with the ability to manipulate the element of their race. Overseeing all others is the Avatar - who has the power to control all four elements and therefore has the job of keeping everyone else in check.

There is only one problem - the Avatar is missing. War is raging, people are dying, and life sucks big time. The Avatar has been missing for a century and the Fire Nation is determined to keep it that way. Of course, there is dissent in the Fire Nation camp, which makes things a little dicey for this world of benders.

The special effects were pretty good - glowing eyes and tattoos were my favs. It was blingy and you know me and bling. What I found distracting was the way in which a bender needed to move in order to channel an element and toss it at their enemy. Swords would have been faster and frankly, if I’d been confronted with a bender, even I could have punched the dude several times before he'd finished his little arm waving-foot dancing-I’m gonna get you maneuvers.

Once the action got started there was some butt kicking, but (lol) it was painfully drawn out. I would have enjoyed more storyline. Give me more insight into the reason why the Fire Nation decided to be the big, bad, ugly guys of this world. Explain to me how the Avatar survived for a hundred years under what can only be considered extraordinary circumstances. Oh, and don't get me started on the token, let's make it appeal to women, romance tossed in without much thought or real need.

Don’t get me wrong - I love fantasy. I love paranormal. What I don’t love is a lack of supportive information to pull me into the story and keep me there. Frankly, some of the scenes were a little far fetched, even for me. It was almost as if the director spent so much time bending elements with CGI, he forgot that real-life actors need some guidance to bring a story to life.

The faults I found with The Last Airbender were not enough to keep me from overall enjoyment. The movie ended in sequel mode so there is hope the next installment will improve on some of the failings in edition one. KK and I have agreed to see number two. Connie - not so much ~smiles~.

3.75 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Family Reunion - Oh My - Part 2

2010-07-01T19:55:00.000-07:00

The continuing saga - I'm in Texas

Day Two

I have jet lag and it’s HOT! I’m going to fill the tub with ice cubes and go to sleep. Enough said?

Day Three - Defining hot

If you can fry an egg on the hood of the car - it’s hot.

If your plastic flip flops fuse with the sidewalk - it’s hot.

If the ice cream melts before they can get it in the cone - it’s hot

If the mail bursts into flames when you take it out of the mail box - it’s hot.

If the dog offers to clip his own hair - it’s hot.

If you fight the dog for the window in the car so you can stick your head out - it’s hot.

If your only mission of the day is to find more ice - it’s hot

If getting in the hot-tub with the temperature set at 102 seems cool to you - it’s HOT.

If the devil sends you an invite to visit Hades because it’s cooler - it’s TEXAS HOT!

At least when my relatives visit me in Washington they can put on a sweater or coat to get warm, (they all claim it’s cold here). I’m telling you, there are only so many clothes on this body of mine I can strip out of to get cool. Truth be told, I don’t think stripping naked would help. And the next person who tells me, “it’s a dry heat, so it doesn’t feel as hot,” is getting their ice confiscated!

:)

Oldie of the Week - The Spiderwick Chronicles (2008).

2010-06-30T22:14:00.000-07:00

Based on the books by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi

Talk about exciting, action packed, imaginative, and an old house I’d love to live in and you have The Spiderwick Chronicles.

What happens when you take three city kids, one mom (who is a little out of it because of her divorce), and drop them into the middle of nowhere? It’s bad enough that the one of the kids doesn’t want to be there and is only waiting until dad can come rescue him (which he isn’t going to do), but toss in things that really do go bump in the night and it’s a paranormal lovers dream come true.

Mary-Louise Parker, who plays the mom, is one of those actors I’ve always enjoyed. She played the stressed out, I don’t believe you’re doing this to me, mom, perfectly. You could feel her pain. Sarah Bolger did a great job playing the wiser-then-her-age teen daughter, who knows more then she should, but is going to keep the younger brothers from sending mom to the loony bin.

Then we have the twins - Jared and Simon, played by Freddie Highmore. Jared, the little snot in question, who thinks daddy is all that and a piece of cake, blaming mom for the divorce; is the child who apparently cannot read. Although he really can, because he reads the warning on the book, he simply chooses to ignore it. Typical rebel boy stuff. What happens when he opens the book is a lot more then expected and pretty much as you can guess . . . invisible.

Apparently the fantasy world surrounding not only the house but the world at large is invisible to humans until or unless you either have the magic stone or a certain creature spits in your eyes so you ’get the sight’. Talk about your laugh-out-loud, gross moment in a movie.

From the baddest of bad -- the ogre, to the cutest of cute -- fairies, this movie had it all. So much action, packed into one hour and forty-one minutes, I couldn’t wait to see how it all ended.

The Spiderwick Chronicles is a keeper and a movie I will add to my ’watch it again’ list. If you haven’t seen it -- rent it - now! LOL. If you’ve seen it, but it’s been awhile, add it to the Saturday afternoon schedule soon. It’s worth another viewing.

4.5 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Today's Laugh Out Loud

2010-06-24T11:19:00.000-07:00

Every once in awhile I get an email forward that carries a gem to be passed on. I got this one today and decided it had to be the LOL of the day. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did:

You only need two tools in life; WD-40 and duct tape . . .

If it doesn't move and should - use the WD-40.

If it shouldn't move and does - use the duct tape.
(Author unknown - but one very smart cookie!)

LOL, what great advice!!

;)

Oldie of the Week - Batman Begins

2010-06-21T11:07:00.000-07:00

Hello movie fans. Last week I had movie night at KK’s house. Tuesday is our day to spend some quality time as friends and watch good-looking men do their thing on the small screen. Each week (during breaks from NCIS) we pick a movie or two from the past we either missed when it was in the theater or was so darn good we want to see it again. I realize, most likely, you have seen most of these movies, but I thought I would post my take on them anyway. For those of you who haven’t seen the movies, this might be a way to decide if you want to add it to your video on demand system.

On last nights menu were two movies - Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. Today I’m going to review Batman Begins, so grab a soda and snack, put your feet up, and get ready to discover if this movie is for you.

Batman Begins (2005)

Let me start by saying, Christian Bale, oh my. Although I will admit, some of the lighting in this film didn’t do the boy justice. Every once in awhile I’d have to check my hunk meter to make sure he was as good looking as I first thought. The voice on the other hand - wow, can you say sexy.

I thought the writers/director did a good job of giving us more history on the Wayne family then we’ve had in previous versions of Batman. My only problem with this remake is the same as all those that came before and that is this - There is no way, no way I tell you that Thomas Wayne would have led his wife and son out the back door of an opera house, into a filthy alley to be mugged!

Wow, I’ve held that in for a long time.

The mugging scene in this movie was as contrived as it has always been and I still don’t find it believable, simply because of whom these people are. While I could expound on this scene for pages, I will leave it at my disbelief and move on to more interesting aspects of the movie.

I loved that this movie showed us the period between the death of his parents and Bruce Wayne’s return to Gotham City. It was refreshing to have more history to help understand this mans reason for donning tights and a cape. Not that I mind Mr. Bale in his Kevlar suit. It was also a unique twist to have him using the family business to get his gadgets. I liked that we got to see the development of Batman. Oh and don’t even get me started on the bat mobile . . . I want one!

It was interesting that the lady fair in this version was a childhood friend of Bruce. The interplay between these two was fun to watch and it was nice to see Bruce Wayne portrayed as the scoundrel we all love to hate in the daytime and dream about at night. Christian Bale plays the ‘bad boy’ rich man really well. His character was believable and I found myself hoping he’d find peace.

The special effects in this movie were well done and except for a few minor ‘right, as if he could really do that’ moments I liked the effects. The story line was familiar, in that it was good vs. evil, but this version of Batman gave us a new villain.

My problem with the movie is this - the climatic fight at the end of the movie had a plot hole I found a little frustrating. I’m not sure if it was the editing or if I’m just too critical, but I wanted a few more questions answered and maybe better timing. Otherwise, I think the movie was popcorn worthy.

I give Batman Begins 4.0 Buttered Popcorns

Tomorrow’s review - The Dark Knight

:)

Family Reunion - Oh My - Part 1

2010-06-19T17:43:00.000-07:00

A few years back, I took a whirlwind trip for the annual family reunion in Michigan. It was my first trip to the state of my birth since my parents had moved us, lock, stock, and barrel to sunny California, when I was five. Every year from the time I turned eighteen, I received an invite to the family reunion and every year I had the same question - “can’t you hold it in January, when it’s not hot and muggy in Michigan?” My auntie assured me, “summer is the best time for a family reunion”. Having diligently said ‘no’ for over thirty years, I finally decided maybe I should go. Of course, I planned on dragging sisters #1, #2, and #3 with me ~smiles~.

With a determined set to my jaw, I called the sisters, told them my plan, and once they stopped laughing . . .

. . . got them to agree to check their schedules for the necessary dates. At first it appeared we would take Michigan en masse, however, best laid plans and all... only #2 could get the time off for a ten-day tour.

#2 lives in Texas, another hot state, where traveling in July is a bad idea, but hey, you only live once. Right? I mean at the time I really thought this was a good idea. Forgetting of course, that sleeping in Texas in July is impossible. Nevertheless, I made my plans . . . down to the last detail. Itineraries were set, tickets purchased, kid care arranged . . . Remember - best laid plans!

Since this trip lasted ten wonderful (ha) days, I’m going to give this to you in doses. Let’s start with the first leg of the trip - Seattle to Las Vegas . . . buckle up, people; this is going to be a bumpy ride!

Day One

Leaving at 5:00 am from my house on the Washington coast, it was a comfy 46 degrees. My ex accompanied me on the two hour drive to the airport. His snoring was very helpful in my attempt to stay awake and focused on the drive, and is the reason why there is nothing fun or exciting to report about that portion of the trip.

Arriving at SeaTac, I pulled to the unloading zone, unloaded, and headed for the E-ticket machine, only to discover there wasn’t one for the airline I was on. Turning toward the ticket counter, I was amazed by the number of people in line, waiting for an agent to assist them. Looking at the clock, I had serious doubts I would make my flight.

I think I might have set a record for getting through the ticket line and the infamous security check point at SeaTac, because I made my flight with twelve minutes to spare.

Nothing exciting happened on the plane, I know, hard to believe. The couple sitting next to me didn't seem to want conversation with a stranger, so I slept.

Oh Las Vegas! The sights, the sounds, the slot machines, what fun! I had an hour to kill between flights, so of course I headed straight to a slot machine . . .

What I didn't realize was the slots no longer actually give you money when you win. No, instead there is a sign explaining a change person will assist you with your winnings, if you happen to win. Ok, having read the instructions (when did they decide we need instructions for a slot machine?) I proceeded to deposit five dollars in the correct slot. Magically, the machine rang up my credits and lights began to flash.

"Number of credits bet?" I pushed the button for 'maximum bet', but before I could even pull the arm, (OMG where is the arm), the wheels started spinning, and several seconds later, the bars I knew and loved, lined up in a straight line. One section below where they needed to be in order for me to win anything. The magic continued, as the number of credits I had decreased by five.

Never one to give up, I continued to push the 'maximum bet' button and after the third attempt I actually won some credits. Now, I'm one of those people who likes to ‘machine hop’ at a casino. I don't like playing the same slot over and over. I was on a deadline and needed to get my credits turned back into real money so I could move to another machine.

The change girl walked past at that moment and I requested she cash me out. Without a smile or how-do-you-do, she nodded and turned to the computer sitting close by. I watched as she punched some keys on the keypad, took money from the drawer and walked in the other direction.

Wait a minute. I thought she understood me. Feeling a little perplexed, I waited for her to return to my area and once again requested she cash me out. Again, she nodded her understanding, went to the key pad, withdrew money, and went to assist someone else.

Something was missing; I just felt it in my bones. She didn't understand my simple request to have access to my winnings. Ok, being the patient person I am (ha-ha) I waited again for her to return. This time I called her over, "excuse me miss...can you please cash out this machine?"

"If you request cash out, yes"

Keeping my cool I responded, "I've requested cash out twice now."

"No, you can't ask for a cash out, you have to push the cash out button.”

Ok, now I was getting a little perturbed. Looking down at the machine, I could not locate a 'cash out' button. Glancing back up to ask her where such a button could be found, I discovered she had once again moved on to help someone else.

I’m not unintelligent. Actually, I consider myself to be somewhere in the middle in the IQ department. If there is a button that says ‘cash out’ on the machine, I was capable of pushing it to get my winnings. Only one problem, there wasn’t one. Looking to the left and right, I discovered I was very much alone in my row of slots, no helpful face waiting to enlighten me. So, I did what any normal, intelligent person would do; I simply hit every button I could find on the machine with the word cash on it. One of them must have been the right one, because the change girl walked over, looked as if she'd never seen me before, handed me a stack of money and walked away.

Well, that took all the fun out of gambling.

However, never one to quit, I moved to another machine and once again fed the hungry sucker with a five. This time, I played the machine until there were no credits left. I wasn't going through the 'cash out' nightmare again.

Glancing at the clock, I realized it was time to head back to the gate. Even if it wasn’t, I would have found something else to do. I just didn’t enjoy slot machines that didn’t drop coins into the tray after I pulled the handle and lined up the cherries. There is something to be said for the old days. Ouch, did I just admit I’m getting old?

As I stood to leave the slot machine area, a nice looking man tapped my arm.

"Excuse me miss, could you tell me how to get my money out of this thing?"

"You have to hit the 'cash out' button." I told him.

"That’s what the change girl has been telling me for the last fifteen minutes. I just can't find one."

Trying to look like I knew what was what; I leaned over, "May I?" I asked.

"Please," he responded, a hopeful look in his baby blues.

Hitting every button with the word 'cash' on it did the trick once more. As I turned to leave, the change girl was counting out his winnings. Raising his voice a little, he shouted out, "Thank you!"

Turning quickly back, I nodded and waved to him. Another happy ending.

So ended my stay in Las Vegas. I saw the inside of McCarran; it hasn’t changed much since the last time I’d been there. Won a little on the slots, which had changed a great deal, and did my good deed for the day.

A final note to this post about the extended family I was traveling to meet - my mother had warned me about them. Very straight lace, old fashioned, and some of them are sure I'm strange because I was raised in California. Apparently the family, as a whole, was not pleased when my parents moved away from the controlling, domineering, heart of the family home. My mother’s relatives were sure we’d all turn out to be ‘wild child’ types or worse.

In light of this warning, I decided I better give my Auntie a little information about myself. I sent her a note, that included a paragraph about my upcoming book, for the reunion newsletter. I figured they might as well know from the first moment, they were right - I am a ‘wild child’ and darn proud of it.

I had no idea what would happen when this old school family of mine met me for the first time, however, lucky you, I‘m gonna give you all the details.

Stay tuned for more Family Reunion - Oh My!

:)

Sex and The City 2

2010-06-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

The girls and I headed to the local theatre last eve to watch Sex and The City 2. Loaded down with popcorn, candy, and enough soda to assure someone was going to have to exit for a few minutes, before the movie ended, we settled into our seats - well almost. Actually, the chair Connie chose had a broken cup holder and the sharp metal edge did a number on her new jeans (%*$&%*), so we moved down a row.

Now we are settled, and Connie is only slightly cranky about the rip in her new jeans.

The movie started with a wedding - and oh what a wedding it was. Liza Minnelli had a cameo. I loved it. She reminds me so much of her mother, who I love to watch in old movies. Her voice is a little weaker these days, but let me tell you, at 64 she is in great shape and can still take command of the stage. There was a lot to laugh about as the wedding swept into full swing and Carrie, with her three BFF, strutted their stuff.

My three BFF tell me if I was represented by one of the characters of Sex and The City, it would be Samantha. Yes, I can admit we have some things in common. However, having admitted that, I will say, at 54 I think I’ve done a better job of moving gracefully into maturity without losing my sense of fun, adventure, and passion, than the character Samantha. Even in my wildest moments, there are some things I wouldn’t do and some outfits I wouldn’t wear.

I was disappointed these characters, (or the writers) , don’t seem to be willing to accept that being older doesn’t make you less. The desperate struggle to remain in the past, instead of embracing what life has to offer in the here and now, is an old and tired attempt to make women think they have to spend billions on turning back the clock.

Carrie’s struggle to find balance in her marriage to Big also played out in a way that made little sense to me. I think in their attempt to fill time in the movie, the writers got a little carried away and someone should have pulled out the red pen. I don’t think the movie stayed true to the characters from the series.

Much of this movie revolves around the trip Samantha takes the girls on to The United Arab Emirates. The movie write up says they are "whisked away to a luxurious, exotic land". While there were many LOL moments, I was continually pulled out of the movie by the 'hit me over the head' political aspect. There were at least two times when the total lack of respect for other cultures was a total turnoff for me. I believe if a movie is going to try and teach me about other places and cultures in the world they should strive for sensitivity. Sex and The City 2 failed on that front.

Another highlight of the movie was the conversation between Miranda and Charlotte about the struggles of motherhood. It’s like a twelve step program. Step one is admitting being a mother is hard work. Step two is letting go of the notion there is a right and wrong way to do it. And so on. I really connected with the characters about the joys and anguish of raising children.

This movie is 2 hours and 26 minutes long. In my opinion it was at least 26 minutes too long. The movie ended on a positive note and in a good place to ‘end’ the story. Hopefully, there will not be a #3.

2.5 Buttered Popcorns

Things That Go Bump In The Night

2010-06-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

According to my daughter, it's everything! She has just moved into her new house and is now experiencing the joys of home ownership and things that go bump in the night!

Apparently, a heater turning on for the first time and rattling a vent in the floor is so frightening, it will cause an otherwise sensible young lady to run from the house in fright. I'm thinking she has watched too many horror movies. I was sorry to have missed her early morning bolt into the front yard in her PJ's. Heaven only knows what the neighbors think of the newest addition to their otherwise peaceful location.

Trying not to laugh as she related this story, I assumed my 'concerned mother' face and listened as she told me it took her ten minutes to work up the courage to re-enter the house and see if the noise had stopped. Personally, I think it was the driving rain that drove her back inside. Trust me, I know my daughter and ten minutes is nothing when there may be a gremlin in the house.

I can also assure you, if she had thought to grab her keys before fleeing the house, she would have arrived on my doorstep in her jammies demanding that I go with her to make sure it was safe to re-enter her abode.

Yesterday, I stopped by to visit. Apparently, a cell phone set on vibrate and left on the kitchen counter will make a very strange noise when someone calls. Again, this noise was so frightening, she ran out the door in search of . . . I’m not really sure.

I was tempted to explain about the noise a house makes as it settles, but decided it would be unfair to deprive the neighbors of their new entertainment . . . watching her rapid rush out the front door as some new and exciting noise makes its debut.

:)

~Hues of Dark and Light~

2010-06-12T10:11:00.000-07:00

Holding off the dawn,

my mind fights the fear.

Senses waiting, somewhere in my dream,

to touch you!

Call out the night,

hues of dark and light.

Please call out the night,

let me touch you.

Cradled in the mist,

my need is all consuming.

Shadows never more,

I love you!

Call out the night,

hues of dark and light.

Please call out the night,

let me love you.

Hiding in the dark,

reaching out for me.

Somewhere in my dream,

I feel you!

Call out the night,

hues of dark and light.

Just call out the night,

let me feel you.

Call out the night,

hues of dark and light.

Only in my dreams are you real!

Call out the night,

hues of dark and light.

Only in my dreams can I feel!

~LadyM~

:)

Three Hour Tour (How To Make a Simple Trip a Nightmare)

2010-06-08T12:58:00.000-07:00

You start with three sisters, (I'll call them #1, #2, and #3), one mother, two cars, the desire for fresh oysters for dinner and, of course, toss me into the mix. Can you even guess where this is heading?

On a quiet summer day, not so long ago, my dear, sweet, adventuresome sisters were visiting the great state of Washington. Don't get me wrong, I love my sisters.

No, really. I do.

They are all very capable women; self assured and fun to be around. The problem started, as things like this usually do, with a bright idea! Someone, not to be named, decided instead of one person jumping in a car to make a quick trip to the oyster farm for dinner fixings, we should ALL go. Oy's, talk about childhood flashbacks of shotgun calling, pushing and pulling, fighting for the window seat, and general bickering because it was taking fifty hours to get started.

When the plan was posed to me, I, of course agreed (ya right). Trust me, I've seen the place more then once and can think of many places I'd rather be then the oyster farm. Mostly, in front of my computer working. But in all fairness, the sisters had traveled from far and wide to be on the coast for a visit so I should get off my postier and join the trek -- thata way.

Only one problem - it took them almost an hour to get ready and I get bored easliy. Although I will admit there was some fun in watching #1 to do wild things to her hair, #2 looking for lipstick, and #3 looking for a different pair of shoes, because, heaven forbid she should get the ones she was wearing 'oystered'!

As they ran around the house, blowing this and trading that, I sat on the couch ticking off the minutes, thinking oy's I could have kicked the kid off the internet and done fifty posts already.

The moral here - live and learn!

Two seconds after everyone is ready to go we hit the first snag. (We aren't even off the porch yet!)

"We'll take mom's car." #2 says.

"Why?" I inquire.

"Because we can all be together," #2 responds.

Again. I love my sisters, but five grown women in one small car, all talking at once, and no leg room are not my idea of pleasant ride. In order to win the day I played my trump card. "Well, I smoke (yes, I know I shouldn't) and so does #3 (who also shouldn't). It's only fair that we take my car so as not to share our smoke laden air with the rest of you."

"That is such a waste of gas! Besides, you two can go a couple of hours without smoking." Mom, of course, was the voice of reason here.

Do you see the determination on my face? Well, of course you don't, but I assure you it is there. "If you want me to go, I'm driving my own car, period."

I won.

Wagons south.

Off we go, Mom driving her car. With nothing more interesting then the passing scenery, I and #3, in my car -- windows down, radio blasting and clouds of smoke billowing from the windows -- follow behind. (Not really, we don't smoke that much, but it sounds good.)

After we leave the city the speed limit goes to 55, so I’m thinking Mom is gonna speed up any second . . . we've been going about 30.

Wow, she sped up -- we're now doing 35! Looking at #3, I comment, “I think she's misplaced the gas pedal.”

“No, more likely she's showing them the scenery,” #3 replies.

"Oh." Feeling like less then a fabulous hostess, I point out the window, “that's a tree.”

“Nice.”

“Yes, and if you look out the other side of the car – that over there is -- another tree.”

“Oh, very pretty.”

“Ok, you’ve seen the scenery, can we please speed up?”

“Hey, she’s your mother," #3 assures me.

I’m sure you get the drift of the conversation . . . (unprintable) which went on for the next 20 miles while we did 35 miles an hour in a 55 mile an hour zone; the cars behind me passing like deer heading to a salt lick party. Finally, we made it to the oyster farm. When I got out of the car my first words to my mother were “did you lose the gas pedal?”

“What?”

“Mom, the speed limit is 55.”

“No it's not, it's 35.”

At this point, I turned to the other two sisters and asked if either of them knew how to read. Of course they had not been paying attention, because the scenery was just soooooooo beautiful. For pity's sake, they're trees . . . granted lots of trees, but none-the-less, trees. The old saying -- seen one, seen 'em all -- comes to mind.

Not wanting to dampen any spirits, I let go of the speed thing and we all headed inside. If you've never been to an oyster farm -- it smells.

We browsed the gift shop area, marveling at the bumper stickers, which appear on many cars in our area - 'Shuck me, Suck me, Eat me raw'. Deciding the cars didn't need decorating, we went about the business of purchasing oysters, had them packed on ice, and deposited them in a cooler in my trunk. Ready to hit the road again, we loaded up the cars to head back to town.

"Follow me," I shouted triumphantly out the window, pulling out faster then you can say, I'm not following the slow one all the way back, I pulled onto the highway and eased the car forward and in 2.2 seconds was doing 70.

Mom was still in the parking space.

Unfortunately, (snag!) I’d only gone maybe two miles when I noticed lots of flashing lights coming up behind me. “Uh oh," I told #3, "I’m gonna get a ticket.”

She laughed. (unprintable response)

And laughed. (unprintable response)

And laughed. (unprintable response)

Pulling over to the edge of the road I waited for the cop to catch up, which he did - quickly. However, he sped past me like a bolt of lightening. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw several more emergency vehicles screaming up the road to speed past my car.

"So much for our quick outing.”

“What do you mean?” #3 inquired.

“Well, with that many police cars and ambulances, the accident is big and we'll be stuck in traffic.”

“Can’t we go around?”

I laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

Now to give you a picture of where we are. Out the window on one side of the car is marshland . . . the cold waters of the harbor at high tide, lapping close to the road. On the other side of the car is . . . you guessed it - trees. Lots and lots of trees. We are on a two-lane highway and going around the accident is not really an option. I waited for Mom to catch up and we cautiously continued along the road for another half mile, before coming to a dead stop – a line of cars, stretching into the distance, blocking the road.

I put the car in park and strolled back to mom’s car. "Well, we could be here for a few hours." (Plastering a smile on my face, I asked sweetly) "Anyone up to taking the long way home?"

After a little discussion, it was agreed we would grab some food at the next available store and take the long way home . . . which lasted a lot longer than the song.

There are not many disadvantages to living in rural Washington, but an accident on certain highways is one of them. If our way had not been blocked, #3 and I would have been back home in about ten minutes . . . not sure how long it would have taken Mom ~smiles~.

It took 78 minutes to go around.

This highway is one big loop that travels along the harbor, the Pacific, and then a river as it winds from point A to point A. Finally arriving back home, no one was in the mood to cook or eat the oysters, so into the fridge they went for another day.

Thinking back -- I had a good time (because I was in my car with the windows down, the radio blasting . . . )

:)

All that glitters is -- Everything!

2010-06-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

I'm talking the washer, the dryer, the laundry room floor, my hands, my hair, it's everywhere....

No, I’m not doing a craft project . . . actually this is my sister's fault, but don't tell her I said that!

For those of you who know me, you know I like bling! Shiny things make me go weak in the knees and if that shiny is incorporated into my clothing -- even better.

In the not so distant past, sister #1 made me some new clothes for a writers conference I was attending. She happily shopped with me, fitted patterns, hemmed, shortened, adjusted, etc. What she didn’t do was pre-wash the fabric.

If you’ve never placed ten yards of slinky fabric covered in every shade of glitter known to man, in your washing machine, you have no idea what a disaster it can be. (Or the fun you can have with the kid).

Which brings me to -- All that glitters is not gold! (Proof fifteen-year-old boys have no sense of humor)

“Mooooooooooommmmmm!” The peace of a Saturday morning is shattered by said fifteen-year-old boy sounding like he discovered all the air had been let out of his football.

“Whhaaattttt?” Two can play this game, and I’m old , so I do it better!

“Why is there glitter all over my jeans?”

“There is?”

“Yessssssss!” Great. Bring on the whine.

Entering the laundry room, I look mystified, “I wonder where that came from?”

“Mmmmmooooommmmmm!”

Wow, it’s worse when I’m standing in the same zip code as him.

Taking the jeans out of his hands, I consoled, “Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“What are knickers?”

“It’s what Scottish men wear under their kilts.”

“What’s that got to do with glitter on my jeans?”

“Nothing, but I can get you some if you’d like.”

“New jeans?” There's a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“No, kilts.”

“Mmmmmoooommmmmm!” He has just pulled more clothing out of the washer.

“What?”

“There's glitter on my socks too!”

“Must be something wrong with the water supply.”

“Yeah, right. How would glitter get in the water supply?”

“Oh...(quick thinking required), didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“It was terrible.” I tried to use my ’mom is not joking voice’. “Last night the tooth fairy got drunk and fell in the lake. All the glitter in her bag spilled in the water and now we have glitter in the water supply.”

“Mom, be serious.”

“I am. Really son, I heard it was a big mess.”

“First of all, the tooth fairy has money in her bag, not glitter. And second, even if she fell in the lake it wouldn’t put this much glitter on my clothes.”

Well at least he didn’t say the tooth fairy doesn’t exist.

“Besides -- there's no such thing as the tooth fairy!”

Darn!

“So how did you get glitter all over my clothes?”

Can you say 'one track mind?

“How do you know I did it, maybe it’s your sister's fault.”

“My sister moved out of the house three years ago!”

“Well maybe she came to visit, tripped and spilled glitter on your clothes after I put them in the washer.”

“Mmmmooooooommmm!”

“Oh for pity's sake, take them outside and shake them.”

“Will that work?”

“I don’t know, but at least you’ll be outside and I won’t have to listen to you whine anymore.”

Wow, boys can give ‘that look’ too. I never knew.

“Give them here and I’ll wash them again.”

“Did you get the glitter out of the washing machine?”

“No, I figured I’d just wash them with the glitter again and see if that helps?"

“Well I can’t wear these to school with glitter on them.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s just a little glitter. Besides, the girls might like it.”

“Mmmooooommmm.”

Annoying much?

“Oh go away and let me deal with it.”

“Well if you can’t get the glitter off, we need to go shopping tomorrow.”

“What, you've decided you want some kilts after all?”

At this point he walked out of the room, proving he is smarter than the average bear, even if he has no sense of humor. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to see if I can vacuum the glitter out of the washer and dryer!

:)

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time

2010-05-31T18:39:00.000-07:00

My friend, Connie, and I have a system for deciding whether or not we want to see a movie. While watching the previews, we signal thumbs up or thumbs down. If a preview gets two thumbs up or two thumbs down, there is little need for discussion, so we don‘t ~smiles~, we simply add it to the list of movies to see or not to see.

If there is one thumb up and one down we discuss it to see what appeals or doesn’t appeal to the other and, see if we can compromise on whether to see it or not. If there is too much horror or bloodletting, I most likely will send Connie off to the movie with someone else and if it’s too far out in the fantasy world, Connie gladly bows out and lets me go with the kids or grandkids. I have to admit, Connie does more compromising then I do. Any movie we walk out of and Connie says, “Well, it wasn’t as bad as Push!” I consider successful.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time was a one up, one down preview movie. Of course, mine was the up thumb and Connie once again showed her skill as a BFF and agreed to join me. I believe her easy agreement had something to do with the leading man, Jake Gyllenhaal, who according to Connie is "easy on the eyes".

I was not aware this movie is based on a video game, until after I saw it. I find it interesting that it was once the other way around -- make a movie, turn it into a video game. Now it’s make a video game and if it’s successful, turn it into a movie. I say -- as long as the movie is well done, interesting, and has a point of view -- go for it.

Of the three items noted above, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time delivered a solid two and a half. The movie certainly had a point of view. Scene one led to scene two and so on in a reasonable order. I also found the movie interesting. The plot was mostly solid, if somewhat predictable. There were a couple of plot twists I wasn’t expecting, but, there was also a plot hole large enough for me to drive a car through. As for well done -- almost. Don’t get me wrong. The film was well shot, well lit, and the editing was sound. There was just something about some of the action scenes that felt more like a video game then a movie. I think if they had stayed true to what a real, live person, with great athletic ability could achieve and left out the CGI-"hey, wouldn't it be great if he does this"-jazz, the movie would have held a more real-appeal.

As for the cast - oh my. Yes, Jake Gyllenhaal is easy on the eyes. Speaking of eyes, his are very dreamy. I’d like to order him in an older model, please. Hey, I’m single, I’m allowed.

The romance between our Prince (Jake Gyllenhaal) and the beautiful Princess (Gemma Arterton) was believable. The getting to know you while I’m trying to steal back my dagger while hey, that’s my horse banter was funny and led up to the epic kiss everyone was holding their breath for. Mainly because there were so many false starts it was like watching water drip. Slow and steady . . . drip, drip, drip . . . kiss!

The ending to the movie was predictable but lacked continuity with the storyline (the aforementioned plot hole), but hey . . . it’s entertainment and we really shouldn’t expend too
many brain cells when watching fantasy.

Overall, I enjoyed what Walt Disney Pictures and Jerry Bruckheimer Films gave us in Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. I will most definitely watch it again on DVD.

My Rating: 3.75 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Rush to the Beach

2010-05-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

It’s very quiet in the house right now. The family is away for the weekend and I have the house all to myself.

Well, except the dogs are here.

Oh and the cat -- who by the way got me up at 4:52 this morning to go out!

When I finally pulled myself out of bed, much later, (it’s not often I get to sleep in) I discovered it is raining.

Still!

The grey clouds just keep rolling in and the rain keeps coming down.

According to the weather report it’s going to continue raining off and on for the next several days. I guess someone forget to tell Mother Nature it’s a holiday weekend.

The reason I know it’s a holiday weekend is all the RV’s. Here, there, and everywhere - RV’s are making their annual ‘rush to the beach’ for Memorial Day Weekend. Families packed to the roof tops with BBQ equipment, footballs, sleeping bags, and if the local grocery store is any indication, lots and lots of junk food. All the planning, leaving work early, and driving; only to arrive on the local beach to watch rain drops hit the sand. What a great time for one and all.

I can't imagine a more relaxing way to spend the weekend than cooped up in a box on wheels with three kids, singing in unison, “Mom, I’m bored! When is the rain going to stop?”

It’s easy to picture said mom, turning to dear old dad and hissing the following, “I told you this was a bad idea. We could be home, in our 2000 square foot house, with doors between us and them, but NO you had to drag us out here.”

“It's ok honey, it will stop raining soon. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh just be quiet and pass the cookies.”

Ok-I have to confess, I’ve only ever been RVing once. It was with only one of our children and it wasn’t raining. Therefore, I can only imagine what these families are going through, stuck in those trailers, parked side by side, from one end of the beach to the other. All I know is, I’m glad I'm not in one of them.

If for some reason I had the desire to travel on a holiday weekend, heaven forbid, it would not be in a RV. Come to think of it, at this stage in my life, I’d just as soon stay home and let the kids do the traveling. I’ll take care of the dogs and cat, even if I have to get up at 4:52 am to let them out.

My plan for the three day weekend is to do as little as possible and so far I’ve achieved my goal. I received my Netflix movies in the mail yesterday, I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing, food ready to eat as needed, and if the mood strikes I might even eat some cookies. At least mine won’t have wet sand on them.

:)

Memory Books

2010-05-28T16:41:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago I discovered Walmart.com has a photo department which allows you to upload your pictures to their site. Once your pictures are on the site (create your own account), you can order prints, make cards and postcards, and my favorite thing - make memory books.

I’ve done a couple so far, one for my grand daughters using the pictures we took of our trip to Disneyland and more recently, one for my son, James, to commemorate and celebrate his graduation from culinary school. I titled it - The Art of Becoming a Chef

What I like most about the site is my ability to add text to the pages and the many layouts, colors, and book sizes available.

I can also preview my pages to get an idea of what they will look like in the real book. This feature allows me to make changes -- something I do several times, until the page is exactly what I want (or I get tired of playing with it).

There is one thing I’d like to comment on - a lot of my pictures get a rating from the site as ‘low resolution’. Guess I’m not that good with the old digital camera. If one of your pictures is tagged ‘low resolution’ you get a warning message about the photo appearing grainy or pixilated when printed. Since I had limited access to pictures for the graduation book, I decided to take my chances with the low-resolution pictures and while they didn’t look like professional photos, they did turn out good. Since this book contained messages from mom (me) to my son, I felt the pictures were fine.

I wanted the book to have a personal touch without my having to fight with scrap booking supplies and hours of cutting little boxes and more hours of finding just the right sticker for the page. While I enjoy scrap booking, there are some occasions where I prefer the memory book option.

I think a book designed and written by you is great for giving a personalized memory to someone you love.

;)

P.S.
For those of you trying to read the poem on the last page (second picture, right side) I decided to post it for you. I wrote this for James.

The path to your future you travel,
my son you are never alone.
Reach for the stars,
stay out of bars,
and remember to tune up your car.

The path to your future you travel,
my son you are never alone.
Be careful where you roam,
charge your cell phone,
and remember your loved ones at home.

The path to your future you travel,
my son you are never alone.
Find true friends on the way,
take time out to play,
and remember be kind every day.

The path to your future you travel,
my son you are never alone.
You’ve nothing to fear,
I’ll always be near,
listen to your heart and you’ll hear.

The path to your future you travel,
my son you are never alone.
I believe in you,
and all you can do,
your destiny awaits down the road.

~Love Mom~
Copyright (c) 2010

~Mist~

2010-05-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

An angel gave this dream to me,
it's only for we two.

Safe in warm, strong arms,
the one I see is you.

I close my eyes and dream of you,
please join me in the mist.

As I gently touch my lips to yours,
a slow, soft, loving kiss.

With the coming of the dawn,
I once again awake.

The dream will fade, you float away,
your magic you will take.

'Til once again I close my eyes,
it's you I want to feel.

A whisper on my heart and mind,
please let the dream be real.

~LadyM~

Dressed Beef

2010-05-23T13:10:00.001-07:00

Imagine if you will driving down the highway with three of your bestest friends. The conversation is loud, of course, because you must talk over the music blasting from four speakers and the wind noise from the open sun roof.

While Shell’s is regaling us with tales of last week’s fun with the coffee crowd, I notice a sign on the side of a barn we’ve just sped by. The sign read - 'Dressed Beef''.

Since my brain doesn’t jump to the same conclusions as most people, I thought of a cow, dressed in a tutu, with nail polish on it’s hoofs, a strand of pearls around it’s neck and large pink flower earrings hanging from it’s ears.

I know - you can say it if you want - weird!

Turning to KK, I asked if she’d seen the sign.

“Nope.”

I told her what the sign said and continued with, “I really want to know what they dress the cows in. I mean is it like normal clothing or do they go all out with tutus and such.”

Once KK caught on to the fact that my mind was nowhere near reality (a place she gets to faster and faster all the time), she joined in on the fun. What does the average person dress their beef in? “I wonder if they do tours. Wouldn’t it be fun to go in and ask them if they have a catalog of the clothes they dress their cows in?”

This got me thinking-What a wonderful way to draw tourists to dairy farm country. I can tell you from experience, visiting a dairy is not a whole lot of fun. Besides the smell (oh my), I’m of the mind that one cow pretty much looks like the next. Imagine how much more interesting it would be to see all the cows dressed in their finest!

The kids would be yelling for mom or dad to pull over and take a look. The RV crowd would turn dairy farm country into the next great wonder of the world. It could get top billing with places like Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon.

The line of cars snaking along farm roads would be enormous and the dairies could have drive thru gift stands. Just think of the possible tourist trinkets they could sell along with ice cold milk!

I’ve been trying to come up with a slogan, but so far I’ve hit brick-beef. I’m not giving up though, so if any of you have any ideas, give a shout.

:)

~Journey~

2010-05-22T09:01:00.000-07:00

This path to our dreams we travel,
Sometimes together, sometimes alone.

This journey of discovery,
Leads not to an end, for the dawn always comes.

I see you each night in my dreams,
Your warm smile.

I feel you each night in my dreams,
Your loving embrace.

You haunt my heart and my mind.

Two people becoming one.

You are my fantasy, my ecstasy.

As the sun returns each night to sea,
Let the dream live,

Your hand in mine.

As the angels sing,
Give your love to me,

If only for a moment in time.

~LadyM~

Toilet Paper

2010-05-21T10:08:00.000-07:00

Also known as "my little friends".

Okay, don't get me wrong. I'm not the one playing with the extra-soft two-ply. Nope, that would be my granddaughter, Bailey.

My little princess spends hours carefully pulling each individual square off and stacking them neatly one on top of the other. I usually try to stop her when the stack is about twenty squares high - left on her own she will use every sheet on the roll.

According to Bailey, these little squares of softness are her "little friends". She talks to them, she watches cartoons with them, and recently she took some of the little guys shopping with her and Mommy.

There is one nice thing about this type of imaginary friend - I can see them! Makes not sitting on them a lot easier. The bad thing-if I forget they are more than a tissue when my eyes water or nose itches Bailey gets a little - LOUD!

"Grandma, you just ruined my little friends."

If you are unfortunate enough to make such a mistake, you will be required to allow her to retrieve additional squares from the bathroom to replace those you turned into trash.

I've learned over the months to put Bailey's little friends on my book shelf before I go to bed at night. If they are left laying around Kiki, the cat, will pretend Bailey's little friends are auditioning to be catnip toys and, when dawn breaks, the floor will be littered with shredded little friends. This will also result in a loud reminder from Bailey.

"Grandma, your cat ate my little friends."

Today, while her Daddy is off doing errands, Bailey is using my pink high-lighter to draw hearts and letters on her little friends. This new species is known as "valentine card friends". Each one says something different, according to Bailey, although they all look the same to me. Thankfully, Bailey has a lot of patience with her Grandma and will happily explain the difference between each little sheet.

It's a good thing I buy TP in the extra-large economy pack.

As I was writing this my son-in-law returned home. Bailey has found a new game to play. This one involves a balloon, her mommy’s high heel shoes, the dog outside, cartoons on TV, and her Daddy!

;)

Laundry

2010-05-18T10:11:00.001-07:00

As the mother of two daughters and one son I can honestly say – what the heck was I thinking? All through their childhoods I thought I was teaching them the same things. Giving them all the tools they would need to step out into the world, well adjusted young adults.

Wow, I blew that one.

I blame myself for my son's lack of knowledge. Unbeknownst to me, I fell into that age-old trap of women's work vs. men's work. I prepared my daughters to cook, clean, do laundry, and raise children. My son, on the other hand, is great at taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, and putting gas in the car.

Take laundry for instance.

The first thing you, the mother, need to realize is - girls will ask how much laundry soap to put in the washer. Boys won’t. (I think it has something to do with that whole men and asking directions thing.)

No, boys will simply dump the entire box into the water, close the lid, and hope for the best. The good news is, the laundry room floor will be clean-assuming you can find it under all the suds.

I’m positive, well-almost positive, I taught my son how to do laundry. I now realize, he wasn’t listening or he was paying his sisters to do his laundry when I wasn’t looking.

All the lessons about separating colors, not washing the jeans with the dress shirts, taking all the bits and pieces of important stuff out of those jean pockets, or heaven forbid, putting the socks in with anything; seem to have gone in one ear and out the other. I’m positive I explained bleach was for use with whites and hot water, that dryer sheets go in the dryer, and folding the clothes after removing them from the dryer will help prevent wrinkles. Apparently, I should have written it down … preferably tattooed on his arm so he wouldn’t lose the instructions.

Waiting until he has nothing to wear -- he kicks all his clothing down the stairs and into the laundry room. It matters not to him if the wet towels from Monday’s shower are wrapped around the jeans he wore on Wednesday, they’re all going to get wet in the washer anyway, right?

If I’m standing by, watching, my darling boy can separate clothing by color. He can -- if prompted--turn all his clothes right side out before putting them in the washer, and, with careful guidance, he can even use the measuring cup for the soap instead of eyeballing it.

Heaven forbid I’m not available to assist.

Six pairs of jeans, four sweatshirts, two dress shirts and an uncounted number of socks all in the washer with the water level set on low! Let me just say for the record, washing machines don’t like it! Truth be told, my son was none to pleased either, when he took the clothes out of the washer and there was still soap all over them--it didn’t stop him from tossing them in the dryer anyway. I guess he figured it was like lint and would somehow magically end up in the lint trap. Which by the way – for the love of Pete - I know I told him about lint traps. It’s a safety issue. You must clean them or things catch on fire. This is not a lesson I would have skipped.

As I see it the problem isn’t with my son, it is with me. Perhaps somewhere in the depth of my subconscious mind, I knew if I didn’t teach him how to care for himself, he’d always need me. I envisioned myself riding to the rescue, bleach in one hand and quarters in the other to do his laundry, no matter the hour of night or day, so he could look ‘good’.

You cannot count on the girlfriend to take care of your son-apparently not all of us taught our daughters to do laundry. I’m not making this up, moms. I have yet to meet a young lady of my son’s acquaintance who can even turn on a washing machine. I’m not sure what their mothers were doing, but it certainly wasn’t preparing their daughters to take care of my son!

When I discussed the lack of my son’s knowledge with my daughters, they smiled and reminded me they told me I was spoiling him. According to them, I never made the youngest do any chores. They are actually surprised he turned out as well as he did, considering he never had to lift a finger while growing up. I’m almost certain their assessment of the situation is wrong. I know he did chores. In fact, I’m positive he was in the laundry room at least twice before he moved out on his own.

I’m sure with a little more training my son will become proficient at laundry and we can move on to other gaps in his domestic training. For you mothers who lack the time to write instructions for keeping clothes clean and fresh, don’t sweat it. Show and tell is a better answer to the problem. Trust me if you write it down it will be the one thing in his pocket when he does stumble upon a washing machine.

;)

Date Night

2010-05-17T20:19:00.001-07:00

Mild mannered Phil Foster and his wife have been married, with children, for a number of years and the ‘spark’ has gone out of their marriage. In an effort to rekindle marital bliss, they have a weekly date night. Either the couple has no imagination or the writer has never had to rekindle anything, because I could think of a better date night with my right brain tied behind my back.

The first ten minutes of the movie didn’t do it for me. I actually got a little frustrated by some of the conversation about the woes of long term marriages. I didn’t really connect with the characters and my mind started to multi-task a little. I was as unsure of the movie as the characters seemed to be about what was wrong in suburbia. It is not until their friends announce their marriage is ending because blah, blah, blah, that Phil and Claire decide maybe more effort is required to relight the candle of romance.

In typical fashion, after talking to the ‘friend’, both Phil and Claire decide to ratchet up the date night ritual. What follows is a laugh out loud romp through the streets of Manhattan as they try to avoid being ‘dead’. Toss in cops, politicians, mob bosses, a hunky special ops guy, and some of the worst decisions ever made by a couple trying to stay alive and this movie kicks butt.

My favorite part of the movie involves a sports car to rival all sports cars and a taxi driver.

My Rating: 3.5 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Caramelized Mushroom and Onion Spaghetti

2010-05-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

A great way to begin going green is to have a meatless dinner once a week. Jeff (hubby) wasn’t all to thrilled about this at first but, he has come around. Not only are we doing something good for the planet, it’s a money saver as well.

This dinner is very nutritious and if you go with a quinoa noodle (found in the gluten free section) and omit the biscuits it is 100% alkaline. Ph balance is something I feel very strongly about for myself, it's something I hope my girls will understand some day.

Mushrooms are another thing I try to sneak in wherever possible, due to the new research that eating just one mushroom a day (even a button mushroom) can reduce your risk of breast cancer by 64%!

I hope you enjoy!
Nicole

Caramelized Mushroom and Onion Spaghetti
Served with Roasted Broccoli and Cheddar Biscuits

Ingredients

1 Sweet Onion, sliced
10 Button or Crimini Mushrooms, sliced
5 Cloves Garlic, minced
Italian Seasoning
Balsamic Vinegar
Organic Chicken Stock
1 can Crushed Tomatoes (read the labels, some of the cheaper brands add preservatives and to me the savings isn’t worth it.)
1 box Healthy Harvest, Whole Wheat or Gluten Free Spaghetti
Fresh Broccoli
Pillsbury Frozen Garlic/Cheddar Biscuits

Spaghetti Sauce

Begin by caramelizing the onion and mushrooms in olive oil, seasoning with salt and pepper. When they are about done add the garlic and Italian seasoning, continue to cook for 5 minutes or until the garlic has softened.

Deglaze the pan with a tablespoon or so of balsamic vinegar.

Using same pan, add about half a cup of stock and the crushed tomatoes. Bringing it to temperature over medium heat. Lower heat and simmer.

Follow package directions to cook pasta. When noodles are ready add to sauce.

Roasted Broccoli

Lay fresh broccoli florets on a cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper; toss by hand and spread evenly. Roast for 10 to 15 min in a 400 degree oven, turn and continue to cook for 10 to 15 minutes more.

Biscuits

Follow package instructions

Notes from Nicole

1. Chicken Stock - I think it’s important to go organic here, I only buy when it’s on sale and usually purchase 4. Also, when organic chicken goes on sale grab one because you can have it for dinner and then use the bones to make your own stock.

2. Olive Oil - If you are only going to make one change in your diet, the best thing you can do is use olive oil and only olive oil.

3. Broccoli - You will have to play with this, I like when the broccoli begins to caramelize. Adjust cooking time for your personal tastes.

4. The biscuits I make because Jeff likes them and since this is a meatless dinner he doesn’t complain if he gets these. If I had time I would make them myself but since I don’t, I like the frozen ones. I can make only what we need and save the rest. A bag of 10 is only about 3.99. I use 5 at a time so it only adds 1.99 to the cost of dinner.

:)

Intro To Healthy Living

2010-05-15T09:21:00.000-07:00

My daughter Nicole believes I don’t eat right ~smiles~. Someone once told me they were not fat, they’d worked hard to get the shape they had - “round”. Yes it’s a shape, one I’m more familiar with than I care to admit at times. Don’t get me wrong. I love who I am, extra pounds and all, however, Nicole is right - I don’t always eat the things I should for a healthy lifestyle.

A lot has changed in the last couple of years, since I now live with Nicole, my son-in-law, and two grand daughters. One of the biggest changes is Nicole does all (or most) of the grocery shopping and cooking. The snack cabinet no longer exists - it was mostly James’ snack cabinet and he took it with him when he left for school, but it was in the house and I knew where it was ~grinz~.

Now it’s confession time - I actually like 98% of what Nicole cooks. She puts a lot of love into her cooking and serves up ‘healthy’ in a way that not only fills the house with delicious smells, it tastes good. I still cheat-duh, it’s me-but I’m doing a lot better and try not to blow all Nicole’s hard work too often.

So, here in the Healthy Living section of the blog I’ll be posting Nicole’s recipes, advice, and links to some of her favorite sites. Feel free to post any questions you have and I’ll make sure Nicole gets an answer for you.

:)

Iron Man 2

2010-05-14T14:15:00.001-07:00

Contrary to what others are saying, I loved, loved, loved, Iron Man 2. Talk about two hours and four minutes of mindless entertainment. It was just what the doctor ordered for a Monday afternoon. Connie and I headed to the Coming Attractions Theatre at our local mall, hit silent running on our cell phones and settled in to watch Robert Downey Jr. do his thing! And oh, what a thing he does.

This movie takes you on a roller coaster ride of personality disorders most men have. From arrogant to womanizing, little boy lost to I don’t give a damn about anything, this man, Mr. RDJ can play it all. There were moments when I wanted to offer him a shoulder to cry on and seconds later I wanted to slap his face for being so -- hmmm, let me see, what’s the perfect word - STUPID! Yep, that worked.

The cast should be familiar for anyone who has seen Iron Man 1, and if you haven’t seen Iron Man 1 -- what the heck are you waiting for! I’m talking action, adventure, special effects, and did I mention Robert Downey Jr.? What more could a girl ask for in a movie.

But, I’m off topic…back to Iron Man 2 - the special effects - I’m telling you, they were great with a capital G. It’s amazing what film makers can do today. However, as much as I love the blow’em up, amaze me with the CGI and all that, I still want a story line. Plot is important to me. If I’m going to fork over the cash to see a movie I want to walk away with understanding and a sense that even if there is going to be another film down the road, the characters are in a good place at the moment.

Iron Man 2 delivered, in my opinion. And ladies, while you’re drooling over Robert Downey Jr., there is plenty of action and female flesh to keep the guys happy to. If you’re looking for a date night flix, give Iron Man 2 a try.

My Rating: 4.25 Buttered Popcorns

:)

Where there is Silence - Oh No!

2010-05-13T18:16:00.001-07:00

What makes more noise then teenage boys?

This is not a joke by the way. I’d really like to know if there is anything as loud as four teenage boys with size twelve shoes, running through the house with little cap guns, shooting each other with small, hard plastic beads.

They sound like a herd of elephants with their trunks knotted. Small bursts of laughter (until the bead hits) then ouch at the top of their lungs. All this accompanied by the sound of feet pounding hard on the floor as they attempted to rattle the house from its foundation.

Twice I tried to grab their attention as they flew past my desk, my son yelling, “careful, don’t hit mom or we’re in trouble,” to no avail. On the third trip around, I was standing, hands on hips. My darling son almost knocked me down as he tried to slow his forward progress, sliding on carpet of all things. The look on my son’s face made it almost worth it. You might know the look if you have kids. It’s the deer in the headlight, quickly followed by the uh-oh now I’m in trouble.

Hoping to forestall any words from me, my son quickly turned to his friends, “we better take this outside guys". They turned as one and headed to the back door. I heard several of them utter “Sorry Mama Hoppe” as they went.

Now mind you, going outside only solved the problem of the house shaking, because unbelievably they’d had their inside voices on before exiting the back door. Once outside the noise level went to an all time high. I think if the EPA had an office in Hoquiam, they would have been knocking on the door to issue a fine for violation of noise ordinances.

I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the police. All I could do was hope against hope they would run out of little plastic beads – soon!

What a silly thing to hope. I’m a mom, I should know better!

They did. Run out of beads that is.

Unfortunately, necessity is the mother of invention and our parking strip provided a suitable substitute. Gravel.

I could almost hear the “carry on men,” as one of them loaded their cap gun and took aim. Don’t get me wrong, these boys are very good friends and they would never cause serious harm, however, popping one another in the back of the legs with small rocks apparently doesn’t cause a lot of permanent harm. Just small discomfort and a slight sting according to the boys, as they assured me it was all right and they wouldn’t break anything.

Can you believe it? They actually thought I was worried about them breaking each other. Using small words, so as not to confuse, I explained to the boys my concern was the windows of the house, not their bodies. Small though the rocks might be and the fact they were shooting them at a downward angle not-with-standing.

You would think I’d taken every toy known to man away from the boys when I put a stop to the rock capping and quiet, blissful silence returned to the neighborhood.

Unfortunately it didn’t last. Fifteen minutes later the boys had a new game, which also involved yelling, laughing, loud talking, and a new sound - skateboards hitting the sidewalk. Do you know, if you get a running start on a skateboard, ride it up a ramp made of bricks and scrap plywood, and launch yourself into the air, you might land with your feet still on the board?

Notice I said might, because as far as I could see and hear it only happened once or twice. Mostly they crashed and burned, followed by loud roars of delight from those not planted face down in the dirt. A lengthy discussion followed each jump, after which they repositioned the ramp before the next fearless soul got their board. Wheels were adjusted, wind speed checked, and the flyer took off. All without benefit of a control tower or landing lights. Brave boys.

A friend of mine assures me, as on expert on boys, this is all normal. How does he know he’s an expert? Well according to him, when I posed just that question, it’s because he used to be one.

Wow, I’ll sleep so much better knowing that!

:)

Power Struggle

2010-05-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

Small town on coast of Washington gripped in deadly struggle for power…

No, this isn’t a headline from the local paper, nor does it have anything to do with politics or the local electric company. The struggle: an epic battle that rages from one end of my house to the other. The prize: control of the on/off switch on my computer hard drive.

Let me introduce you to the combatants.

In the black-swivel-high-back office chair we have yours truly, Michelle Hoppe, romance author.

On the floor, in cute little pink shirt and pants, binky in mouth, hands and knees working as a team, is my seven month old grand daughter, Sweet-pea.

It’s my desire to have said switch left in the on position and the little bundle of joy’s desire to simply push it in and out. Matters not to her if it’s on or off, it’s the thrill of victory she’s going for. Pleas from me about lost files and crashed hard drives not withstanding, the little darling is like a robot on auto-pilot, programmed for one purpose only: to crawl, push, twist and scream in her efforts to meet the objective of pushing the button with the little green light.

A typical battle for supremacy goes something like this:

Sweet-pea, cute little gurgling noises echoing around her, fakes grandma into believing she is engrossed in the current Disney movie blaring from the television.

Grandma turns to computer to write, unaware the little crawler is inching her way toward the desk, her mouth set on silent running to forestall warning anyone (me) of her approach. Her goal within reach, she extends a pudgy little finger toward the glowing green light just as I catch movement out the corner of my eye and react with the speed of a twenty-year old. Scooping baby up, I place her back on the blanket in front of the TV, toy’s heaped around her, some with little buttons of their own, in a vein attempt to refocus her attention on something else.

Now aware that snuggly little granddaughter has once again set her sites on my hard-drive, I return to work with one eye on the screen and one on the bundle of pink, determined to prove her stamina is greater than mine. Back and forth the combatants jockey for position. Little does she realize, I have trained for this struggle once before. Yes, I am an experienced, battle weary veteran of the shiny button wars. I earned a purple heart two and half years ago, when training granddaughter number one, Snuggle Bun, that certain things in grandma's house are off limits to little girls. Having succeeded once, I will triumph again or break a fingernail trying.

Snuggle Bun, now aware of how important it is to leave grandma's computer alone will intercede at times, mostly because she gets tired of listening to the crying.

I know-I’m not supposed to cry at my age, but darn it, do you know what a hard shut down of a computer will do to your current project?

The problem with Snuggle Bun’s intervention is it only lasts about as long as her attention span - seventeen point six seconds. Barely enough time for me to get comfy and take a sip of coffee. Once free of Snuggle Bun’s arms, Sweet-pea rolls onto her hands and knees, crawling over toys like a hum-v, one-track mind reengaged, she heads back towards the light.

No longer attempting to hide her intentions, it’s now a race to see if she can get to the button before grandma gets her legs uncrossed and sets the coffee cup down without spilling its contents on the keyboard.

Score one for grandma, as I snatch her up by the back of her shirt and plop her on my knee. For the up-teenth time I explain why she is not allowed to touch the computer. I might as well be talking to myself, because the rug rat is squirming to get down so she can implement attack plan bravo-charlie-345. I however swing into action with battle plan warm-bottle-in-babies-mouth, followed by a victory dance as the little angel falls to sleep.

A cease fire has been called for the next two hours while Sweet-pea recharges her batteries with a much needed nap. Snuggle Bun is also napping, so I have a window of opportunity to get some work done. There is only one problem with my window – I too need a nap after the morning skirmishes so if you will excuse me I think I’ll just lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a few minutes.

;)

Welcome to Four 2 Smile

2010-05-13T17:21:00.000-07:00

Some folks say twenty-two, some say eleven, but I’ve always heard it only takes 4 muscles to smile and something like 64 to frown, so SMILE!

Hopefully, you will smile too as you read all about my take on day to day living and reviews of the products I use.

All the views expressed here are mine, but the smile you might get from reading are all yours.

:)