I had a dream...

And I remember it! For me that’s amazing. I know we all dream every night, but I rarely remember them—very rarely. This one involved a friend.

My wife, her father, and I were going to have lunch with the friend. We met at her house and she gave us a quick tour. My subconscious used my father-in-law’s house as the friend’s house—I actually have no idea what her house looks like! Anyway, after the tour we decided to take separate cars and we would follow her to the restaurant. We all went to put on our shoes (which were near the front door), but I couldn’t find mine. We all started searching…and searching. Finally, I looked down and my shoes were on my feet. I was embarrassed. I put my hand on the friend’s shoulder and apologized for wasting her time.

Then I woke up.

I don’t usually misplace things (like shoes or keys), so it was weird that I couldn’t find my shoes—even weirder they ended up on my feet! Once, when I was really tired, I was looking for my keys and couldn’t find them because they were already in my hand. It only happened once. It was a boring dream (where's the action???), but exciting for me just because I remember it!

Questions:
1. Would it make you uncomfortable if the dream was about you? Should I tell the friend or keep quiet about it?
2. Have you ever been looking for something that was already in your hand, on your head, etc.?
3. Do you remember your dreams very often?

Okay, now pass your papers to the front for grading and I’ll return them to you tomorrow! =)

Have a nice evening.

Left turn patience

You probably already know this, but…when you are sitting in your car, waiting to make a left-hand turn, do NOT turn your wheels until you are actually making the turn. Keep them straight! I learned that in driver’s ed when I was 16, but a surprising number of my friends have never heard it. This came up because of a terrible accident. One of my wife’s former co-workers and her husband were driving their daughter to nursery school. While waiting to make a left into the daughter’s school, the husband turned the wheels in anticipation of making the turn. A teenager, with the morning sun in her eyes, didn’t see them. See rammed them from behind, pushing their car into on-coming traffic. A pickup truck broadsided them—the wife and daughter did not survive.

Now, every time I go out I see drivers turning their wheels while waiting to make lefts. So many people do it and it almost never leads to an accident. It’s probably a one-in-10 thousand combination of circumstances. But why take the chance?

Sorry for the downer post, but I don’t want any of you to become a statistic that can so easily be avoided.

PS - I'm seriously thinking about making my singing debut here on Blogspot--it will be funny and horrible! It'll be like one of those really awful American Idol contestants, except I'll laughing along with you instead of getting indignant.

If I do it, will you do it too??? =)

Sir Sean Connery

Do all girls love that guy? Or is it just my wife? "Oh, that voice", "He's so distinguished", etc., etc. She's a huge fan. I'm sure he's on the list of guys she would leave me for--but it's the young Sean Connery who exists only on film, so I think I'm safe. =)

Speaking of a young Connery, my wife found an old film of his that is different from anything else I've seen him in. He sings! It's a Disney film--Darby O'Gill and the Little People.

Before he was Bond (James Bond), he played a young groundskeeper in Ireland who didn't believe in Leprechauns or Banshees. That changes the night the "Coashta-Bower" makes an appearance. If you have any interest in a really young Connery (singing!!!) or Irish myths, it's a cute movie.

Have a great weekend!

PS - There are unclaimed awards in my previous post. =)

Sweet and Stylish Blog Awards

I received the Sweet Blog Award from teJan @ Insights. I don’t think I deserve a Sweet Blog Award, but I’m keeping it because I’m mercenary like that (and I appreciate it). Thank you teJan!

I need to pass it to Sweet people, which is difficult because I only follow sweet people. So this will go to my first followers (who are still around): Mel, acutelife, the girl in stiletto, LOLanne, Angel, Dana, Kimmy, Leah, Kym , Dawna, Krissy, Manju, Blair, Olivia and Thanh Thao.




I received the Stylish Blogger Award from London’s-Beauty @ London’s Boutique. I really don’t deserve this one either, but…well, see above! Thank you missy!

I need to state 5 random facts about myself and then share the award with Stylish bloggers.

5 Random facts about me:

1. I’ve been trying to recreate my mom’s peach cobbler recipe, but no luck. It was just a bisquick creation, but I can’t find the right mix of spices. Any suggestions???

2. For a few fleeting moments last summer my barber thought I was cool. Well, really she just teased me about leaving the house with my t-shirt on inside-out (“That’s how all the cool kids are wearing their shirts”). I was in a hurry after showering and slipped it on without checking.

3. Speaking of inside-out shirts, how do you turn one right-side out? I pull the shirt down through the opening at the bottom. My wife pulls the entire shirt up through the neck. My way is better, right??? =)

4. I pitched one inning of organized baseball. I gave up no hits and no runs, but I was wild. I struck out two batters and walked FOUR. No runs scored because I picked a runner off 1st base. After that my coach sent me back to the outfield and I stayed there. Did that make sense to anyone?

5. While having lunch last week I noticed ladies purses slung over chairs or sitting on the floor. I thought restaurants should place wide, rounded hooks under tables so that women could hang their purses in front of them. Good idea? You know, I never noticed purses until I started blogging. LOL

I’m passing the Stylish Blogger award on to: Amy, Ana, Bananas, Becks, Elaine, eQ, Georgina, Ibyang, Jing, Julie, Livia, MeiBelle, Rena, RML, Sonia, and Wenny.

Barefootin’

When I was growing up, once the weather got warm it was time to break out the shorts (despite the Casper-white legs) and leave the shoes behind. We lived on a dirt/gravel road, so there were lots of “ouch, ouch, ouches” the first few days. I did put my shoes on if I was heading into the woods or towards the train racks—you never knew what you might step on there.

In fact, you never really know what you might step on anywhere…and sometimes shoes are no help. While running through the woods I once (okay, twice) stepped on boards that had long nails sticking out of them. That was painful.

But this story is about something I stepped on while barefoot. One night I emptied the kitchen trash and needed to put the bag in the ancient metal can outside. My parents had their back porch light on, which illuminated the porch steps and the sidewalk leading to our driveway. But the trash can was around the corner on the other side of the porch—in the dark. It was on a sidewalk, so I wasn’t worried about stepping on anything. Big mistake! As I went around the corner and approached the can, I stepped on something soft (and maybe a little furry?). Suddenly I felt the crackling, snapping of a hundred tiny bones under my right foot. It was so gross! I jumped back, but it was too dark to see what it was.

After washing my foot under the outside spigot, I went into the house for a flashlight—and put my shoes on. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see what it was, but I had to. I was praying it wasn't a kitten or something like that. I went back out and found a dead ground mole there on the sidewalk—a present from our cats. Yuck!!! I had stepped on that thing with my bare foot!!!! If you don’t know what one looks like, please Google "ground mole"! {shiver} A few nights later I had a nightmare about that thing—it grew to 8 feet tall and chased me! LOL

Hmmmm, I’m not afraid of the dark, but I really like flashlights. I wonder if it's related to that night??? ;P

Happy weekend everyone!

Edit: Just to be clear, I didn't kill the thing. My cats killed the ground mole and left it there either as a present to thank us for feeding them OR as a warning that we better keep feeding them!

Chance encounter

Tuesday morning I had a long meeting. Halfway through it was disrupted by a small group led by our public relations director. I was closest to the door, but sitting with my back to it, so I didn't see who else was with her. The first thing I heard her say was "Secretary Albright may have once had an office in this room." {You'd think she would first say "excuse me", but she has terrible manners} Secretary Albright? We never had a Secretary Albright?

At that point I turned in my seat to look back at the group. When I did, the face of former US Secretary of State (under President Clinton) Madeleine Albright was about six inches away from mine. She was in my personal space! We were so close she had no choice but to exchange greetings with me, so I introduced myself. And then they were gone. It turns out she had spent time with the Woodrow Wilson Center back when it was housed in that building.

It was an interesting experience, but not exciting. It's not like she was my favorite Secretary of State--that would be John Jay, who temporarily filled in for the first Secretary, Thomas Jefferson. {Confession: I only know that because I just Googled it two minutes ago! LOL}

The funny thing is meeting her didn't make much of an impression on me--she's just a person like everyone else. But if I were to meet one of my blogger friends, I'd probably start jumping up and down like I was on a pogo stick, pointing and shouting, "Hey, it's you. Is it really you? OMG, look, it's you!!!" That's a clear sign that I have my priorities in the right order. :D

Chores II: Timberrrr

For some reason, when my chores involved cutting down or cutting up trees, it was usually memorable. My favorite tree story involves a hickory tree that grew near the railroad tracks. My dad wanted to cut the top out of the tree, so he and I tackled it early one Saturday morning—the first chore of the day. I climbed up as high as I could and tied off a rope so he could pull the tree top as it started to fall (guiding it to a safe landing). I climbed back down to where he wanted it cut and went to work with a bow saw. I cut all around the trunk so the top would break off cleanly (and not strip bark from the rest of the tree).

I was standing on two limbs and cutting the tree just above my eye level. I worked the saw back and forth, and back and forth. The tree started to sway—back and forth, and back and forth. Before I could finish the job, the swaying felt out-of-sync with my sawing motion. That made me dizzy, so I stopped for a moment. My dad (the drill sergeant) “encouraged” me to keep working (“You stopped already? You’re soft, you’re soft!!! When I was your age…”). I explained about getting dizzy, but felt better and got back to work.

Soon the dizziness returned and brought queasiness with it. I had to stop again. My dad put down the rope and walked towards the tree (I think to offer more encouragement). Before he could say anything and before I could say anything, it happened! Did I mention this was my first chore of the day? Right after breakfast? LOL! Almost without warning, my stomach sent my breakfast hurdling towards the ground—right where my dad was standing. Fortunately for him I was pretty high up in the tree and he had time to get out of the way. Mostly! :P

Gee, what’s the lesson here? Don’t climb trees right after you eat? Don’t stand under a tree with a dizzy person in it? I’m not sure, but there’s GOT to be a lesson in there somewhere. =)


PS - When I was younger (than in the 1st story), we cut down another huge hickory tree that was dangerously close to our house. It looked like three trees intertwined because of the way the trunk grew. I hated to cut that one down because it made a cool, spooky creaking noise when the wind blew. It was right outside my bedroom window. After taking turns with the ax, my brothers and I were pulling on the rope (to keep the tree from falling on our house) and when the tree started falling--towards us, we froze. Someone (my dad?) yelled "RUN" and we barely made it to safety. It was exciting! Also, one summer a storm hit our area and produced a mini-twister that knocked down a huge, beautiful willow tree in our yard (and created a new path into the woods next to our house). Cutting up that tree was a sad chore, despite the endless supply of willow switches it had provided for my parents. LOL!

#100 - Why I blog

Before I explain why I blog (aside from the fondness I feel for my bloggy friends), I have a few questions about blog awards. Where do they come from? Is there a board that approves them or may any Tom, Dick or Harry create one??? Have you ever created one? I’ve decided to try my hand at inventing some. Let me know what you think. The names are the:

I’m not a stalker, I live near here Award (inspired by folks watching Leah’s front porch photo sessions);
MAC-aholic Award (must give your Mac to the person who tagged you);
You chewed and swallowed what? Award (for people brave enough to eat things I wouldn’t);
Amusing musing Muse Award (funny, thoughtful, inspiring--this would look great on a t-shirt);
I was a teenage Aswang Award (don’t ask);
Cornered by a Bug Award (it was huge);
OMG, that's your inside voice? Award (for the joyful and exuberant);
You’re too smart, I had to Google before commenting Award (I need to read more);
You’re not bad, you’re just drawn that way Award (again, don’t ask);
Miley Cyrus Lifetime Achievement Award

I know you’ll all be fighting over that last one! If I was really going to invent awards, they would be the “I Love Reading Your Blog Award”; “You make me laugh/think Award”; and the “Mary Poppins’ Award” (for the practically perfect).

Okay, it’s all downhill and even more boring from here on. Why I blog…

Last December someone asked how I got into blogging—since you don’t see many married dads in blogville. Initially, I signed up because of MrsZ and Mel. I met them on-line, started reading their blogs, and wanted to comment. Coincidentally, my wife had suggested several times I start a blog—although she had something very different in mind for me. I continued commenting and posted once in a while. Before long I was meeting friends of friends and they were becoming friends too.

As I met more great people, I felt more comfortable sharing. A side benefit is getting my stories on the record accurately so I can share them with my kids—someday! In real life, people had been repeating my stories and usually getting them wrong. My wife spent a lot of time telling her family and co-workers stories about me and then they would re-tell them incorrectly. You know what happens to stories as they get re-told! Blogging gives me a chance to correct that while also connecting with some amazing people I never would have met IRL.

PS - I think my strength (relatively speaking) in blogville is commenting, not blogging. Sometimes I get a little carried away and comment too often. But hopefully that balances out with the times I can’t comment.

A piece of me...June 2010

It's time again for the monthly game started by Toothfairy (we miss you Shirley). The game is to share info about yourself on the 1st Sunday of every month. This month....

I like: that my next post will be #100. It's not the number itself that I like, it's that you take the time to read my nonsense. I'll have more to say about this in #100.

I don't like: how much I enjoy ice cream floats--chocolate + 7 Up or vanilla with either root beer, cherry smash, or orange. Do you have a favorite ice cream float???

I want you to know: we had a big thunderstorm today with huge bolts of lightning. I stood out on the porch with my son to enjoy the breeze and watch the show...the same thing I did during storms when I was a kid. I also used to run around the yard trying to catch leaves blowing in the heavy wind, just before a storm broke loose. A simple, silly game.

I've planned: a summer trip to Williamsburg (despite the humidity); to buy a laptop; and to try one more time to talk sense to my brother.

I want to say to someone special: love in all it's forms (romantic, family, friendship, whatever) is special and makes life so much better. Where would we be without friends???

Chores I

We all have chores to do around the house, right? Everyone has spent time raking leaves, washing dishes, digging up yams, doing laundry, etc. As an adult, they're just part of the daily routine. During summer vacation as a kid, they were the bane of my existence! My dad wrote out a list of chores every morning. In theory I wanted to be responsible, but in reality I wanted to play!!! Looking back, I can see that the work was good for me. Having those duties helped teach me to be responsible even when I didn’t want to be…or perhaps especially when I didn’t want to be. It was a good lesson to learn. I should point out that I had completely learned that lesson by the time I was 10. All the chores after that were simply overkill. LOL

This might be a semi-recurring theme over the summer, sharing stories about different types of chores. Today's topic: Digging trenches.

We had a leaky basement. My dad kept coming up with ideas to direct water away from the house. We dug ditches in front of our property, behind it, everywhere. When I was 12 we dug a trench almost all the way around the house itself, down to the basement footing, so we could install drainage tiles. We started out digging together one Saturday and then each day we’d dig a little more. But one of my brothers had a job and the other one was practicing to be a magician’s assistant—he kept disappearing! I dug by myself pretty regularly.

One morning the daily chore list said “finish the trench TODAY!” So I climbed down into the trench alone and before long it was done! I was so happy (I didn’t know I would soon be carrying buckets of rocks to put around the drainage tiles--LOL). I looked up for a good spot to climb out of the trench. I quickly realized there were no longer any “high spots” to stand on. I couldn’t reach the top edge of the trench to pull myself out the way I had every other day.

I tried waving the shovel and calling out, but couldn’t get anyone’s attention. I clanged the shovel against the house. Nothing! I was tired and hungry. There was no way I was going to just sit in that hole until someone came by. I should have used the shovel to dig a foothold in the side of the trench, but I didn’t think of it. I did think of something. I went to one of the corners, drove the shovel blade into the ground at an angle (close to the house) and wedged the handle into the corner of the trench. Then I “walked” up the shovel handle while balancing myself by holding onto the house. After several tries, it worked. Sweet freedom!

The moral of this story? We all know not to paint ourselves into a corner. But also, don't dig a hole you can't get yourself out of!!!