HumpDay Drivel

Yesterday was a little crazy-making and today is a deep-freeze.  Applying coffee, a hot shower, and M&Ms, and trusting that the immediate world will right itself before day’s end.  Snuggle up, kids, might as well make the best of another HumpDay!

So an attorney and a senior citizen are sitting next to each other on a long flight.  The lawyer’s thinking that older people are so out of touch he could easily get one over on this guy.

He asks the retiree if he’d like to play a fun game.  The guy’s tired and just wants to take a nap, so he politely declines and tries to catch a few zzz’s.

The lawyer persists, however, saying that the game is too much fun to miss out on.  “I ask you a question, and if you don’t know the answer, you pay me only $5.00.  Then you ask me one, and if I don’t know the answer, I’ll pay you $500.00,” he says.

This catches the man’s attention so to keep the annoying passenger quiet he agrees to play the game with him.
The attorney asks the first question.  “What’s the distance from the Earth to the Moon?”
The senior doesn’t say a word, just reaches into his pocket, pulls out a five-dollar bill, and hands it to the lawyer.

Now it’s the older guy’s turn. He asks the lawyer,  “What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down with four?”
The lawyer googles everything he can think of but can’t find the answer.  He sends e-mails to all his smart friends, to no avail.
After an hour of searching, he finally gives up.  He wakes his fellow traveler and hands him $500.00.

The senior pockets the $500.00 and goes right back to sleep.
The lawyer is going nuts now, not knowing the answer.  He wakes the guy up again and asks, “Well, so what DOES go up a hill with three legs and come down with four??”

The weary older guy reaches into his pocket, hands the lawyer $5.00, and goes back to sleep.

(Shared by my friend and fellow old person, Rudy Loewen)

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Life in the unicorn nursery …

Today we get the pathology on my eyelid biopsy and find out where it goes from here — nowhere, or back for more carving.  Either way, we dance — it’s Tuesday.  Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, if anything potentially negative is coloring your day, focus on the unicorns!

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Saying hello to the new year …

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We wish you a Merry Day-After-Christmas …

My blog just texted me that it was lonely.  (And it spelled out each word because it’s, you know, my blog.)  I feel awful — less than 24 hours after the kindest, splooshiest day of the year I wander off and forget the ones who mean the most.

But I’m back with a vengeance, launching bizarrely-benign torpedo-thoughts … configured sort of like my old paper airplanes … into what’s shaping up to be 2015.  For my Faithful Facebook Friends, today’s post will be an instant rerun.  Whatevs — can’t get there today, hope you didn’t have to work either!!  (And sorry, because I know some who did.)

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Christmas Eve 2014

 

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My girl Marilyn knew …

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And Friday spills over into the weekend again …

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Are you whistling yet?

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Wednesday Wisdom

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Sometimes you just go ahead and dance …

So I noticed a weird little goober on my lower eyelid, oh, months and months ago and when it started to resemble an expanding snot bubble I made an appointment with a specialist — I’m not one to rush into things unless it’s something I really want.  Anyway, today was as much fun as a poke in the eye with a sharp needle — biopsy done and now we have the inevitable wait.  But even if it’s basal cell, as Dr. Specialist surmises, it won’t be a biggie — Dr. Specialist #2 will biopsy the whole thing in layers and if I end up with a divot in my eyelid Dr. Specialist #1 will Bondo it for me and my eye will be good as new.  Also basal cell carcinoma doesn’t metastasize or send out runners.  Yay!

Hey, it’s Tuesday, the day we dahnce, dahlings, and I say we get on with it.  Choose your libation — I’m having NZ Starborough Sauv Blanc — and distract me while the anesthetic wears off and reality hits.  That’s what friends do.

 

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Just in time …

… for the annual “War on Christmas,” a handy flow chart from Christian blogger Rachel Held Evans, who writes “The whole story of Advent is the story of how God can’t be kept out. God is present. God is with us. God shows up—not with a parade but with the whimper of a baby, not among the powerful but among the marginalized, not to the demanding but to the humble. From Advent to Easter, the story of Jesus should teach us that God doesn’t need a mention in our pledge or on our money or over the loudspeaker at the mall to be present, and when we fight like spoiled children to ‘keep’ God in those things, we are fighting for idols. We’re chasing wind.”

Whatever your take on all of that, or mine, she also says, “For a long, long time Christianity was dominant in the United States and represented the civic religion of the country. But America is about the people who are here now, and that is a much more diverse group. And that’s good! It is time to stop insisting that everything revolves around us. Instead, let’s join the wider circle of the many traditions that make up our country. Besides, any Christian knows that Christmas is not about displays in shopping malls, or capitols, or schools, it is about a spiritual event that we honor most in our families and our homes.”

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What scares you?

Not BOOGA-BOOGA pants-crapping scared, where your skin crinkles up and makes little screeching noises with sparklers on the ends.  More like what are you AFRAID of … that fundamental sense of dread that a cog will drop into a random sprocket somewhere and life will change.  Fear of loss is a keen motivator — what else drives us with that same force?

But what if life changed and you lived through it?  And what if that happened over and over ’til you realized how brave you were and then you just started doing things and saying things you didn’t know you could do and say?  What if people didn’t get any of that at all and you didn’t care?  What if you just started kicking ass, including your own, and life really did change and you wouldn’t change it back if you had the chance?  WHAT IF?  Not the question I want to be asking myself when I’m gearing up for the choir eternal.  What if I’d done all those things I knew I could do?  What if I’d let myself be who I knew I was?  And to quote Captain Obvious, what if I’d just been nicer?  Regret, let’s not go there.

Holy balls, I’ve survived too long to let fear force me back into the box, and by now he’s like an old friend anyway, sort of.  You know, keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your powder dry.

“I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise.”  ~Dawna Markova

 

William Stafford

 

 

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If I’m lyin’ I’m flyin’ …

My grandma, who had to tolerate me a lot since I lived within rock-throwing distance and never knew when to go home, used to tell me that I was as happy as if I had good sense.  That is, when she wasn’t accusing me of lacking the sense God gave a goose.  Clearly she noticed a certain deficit in the reasoning department.  Time and experience have predictably sharpened my perceptions, but if I have to base my mood on whatever life’s currently dishing out, I’m done.  Hey, I KNOW things suck, generally speaking.  I’m perfectly aware we’re all headed to hell in a disintegrating hand basket at warp speed.  You know the drill: our atmosphere is imploding, our ground water’s drying up, our oceans are gunked up with plastic and sewage and a sick radioactive glow, the whole planet’s at war in one way or another, and disease and pestilence stalk the land.  But I can’t shake the feeling that life is good, gosh darn it, all indications to the contrary.  What can I say, things just have a way of working out, and it’s always too early to give up.  To quote the great Lucimar Santos de Lima (it’s okay, even Wikipedia can’t find him), “It doesn’t hurt to be optimistic, you can always cry later.”

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Making a list …

So Tuesday around here is evolving into a day for thankfulness and dancing, but will one day a week be enough?  I think not!  And on that note, I hope you’re making only HAPPY LISTS this winter.

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Yes, Virginia, there really is a December, and it’s here!

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The Monday rant …

 

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