LOTS OF STUFF ABOUT NOTHING

The way I fuss about a hangnail, you would think it was a nuclear war.  And a jagged fingernail makes me know I have some issues.  I fixate on it and can’t get anything completed until it is smooth.   I don’t like rough or jagged.

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If I ever get my hip replaced, I’m going to have a computer put in it to be able to read mind waves.  It seems like a handy thing to have.  Anyway, that’s what that the Grandma told me was wrong with me....I needed to listen to the voices.  

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If something looks easy, that something has been practiced a long, long time.  Watching basketball players sink free throws is an example.  Watching a kindergarten teacher getting her students ready for the end of the day and dismissal.  No one gets ahead without practice, hard work and experience.  Beware those folks to have a meteoric rise to stardom.....it’s a hell of a trip down.  But, I usually watch.

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Lordy, I love people who just blurt out foolishness.  Nothing makes me laugh harder than a Freudian slip....especially if it’s me who did it.

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Let retired be retired.  I love volunteering.  I love writing.  I loved waking up this morning at 7 and not have been at school, up for two hours, and listening to why EVERYONE is tired.  The Monday after the time change should be a school holiday.  I don’t know what I’d call it.  I did have a wonderful pal suggest that we ease into daylight savings time 15 minutes at a time over a span of four weeks.  It would be a nightmare to implement, but my sleep pattern would thank you.

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NIT....NOT IN TOUNAMENT.....it really stands for National Invitational Tournament.  I am still laughing about MY guess for what NIT really stands for.

Tiny Dancer: Sally’s in the House

Sally and I enjoy each other’s company.  We are about on the same wavelength most of the time.  She’s 4 and I’m 66.  I really do enjoy visiting with her.

Sally is a dumpling.  The world is her oyster and she just loves a good visit.  (Note:  I can’t understand Sally speech most of the time.  She gets excited, talks fast and doesn’t say her /s/ sound unless prompted by her mother.)  But, she got the Malloy gene for talking and getting along with people.  I am one of the members of her fan club.

I remember my own mother coming to Georgia to visit and saying, “I know why God gives children to young people.”  Yes, I am resting today.  Laughing.  AND thinking the same thing my mother said!

In the past 24 hours, the following quotes came out of my tiny dancer’s mouth:

1.  Hey, Nana, do you have You Tuber on your phone?

2.  It’s the chocolate milk that makes a great lunch.

3.  I just love a pink lipstick.

4.  The kitty is resting up in the big bed.  Get ready.  He eats toes.

5.  Now, what shall we do.

6.  Let’s get Uncle Dan involved.

7.  You be the patient.  I’m going to write your diagnosis.

8.  Don’t you just love new underpants?

9.  Can you say your alphabet?  Do you know it?

10.  You stay here.  My teacher doesn’t need to know my momma didn’t bring me to dance class today.

11.  I need to borrow a glass of water to take outside. (Said in very clean, clean clothes and a twinkle in her eye)

12.  Let’s go to your house and eat pot pies.

13.  If we pretend it’s Christmas, you can hide the presents and I’ll be the little girl that finds them.

14.  Girl Scout Cookies?  Alright, but I don’t like Thin Mints.

15.  What will we do if mommy doesn’t come back?

16.  Daddy said I couldn’t talk to you until you opened your eyes.  (I woke to find a sweet face staring at me.)

17.  Watch out.  Watch out.  Here come the unicorns!

What's in a Nickname?

I like reading the obituaries of strangers when they have a nickname in the headline.  The Macon Telegraph featured a “Bonehead” one day and I still remember it.

I was called "e” (and am still called “e") by my family.....I have been called Doc, Weezer, and MamaWeave (I have also been called some choice words by wayward youth who might have needed to have had to have a little attitude adjustment, too.) Because I have a niece named Erin Malloy, she is known as Little e....thank goodness my brother has sense enough not to call me Old e....or Wide e......or Old, Wide e.

"Little Mama” was a common nickname in many of the classrooms I visited in Central Georgia.  These were the little girls who had hearts of gold and took care of everyone.   I always wanted to know the whys behind the nicknames.  That’s what makes the story interesting....the why?

I had a little fourth grade girl come to Lakeview Elementary in Centerville, Iowa.  On the first day of school, she sasshayed up to my desk and annoounced that she had changed her name to "Go Go.” I told her that I needed to call her by the name on her birth certificate until her momma told me different.  That child had quite an imagination.  I thought of her as Go-Go the entire year.....this was in the late 1970’s and I still think of her as Go-Go.

Nicknames are one of those “let’s look in the underwear drawer” things in life.  Most of the time the bestowing of a nickname just happens.  It is a serendipitous moment when a nickname sticks forever.  And stick they sometimes do.

Coach Anthony Hines was the best nickname giver of anyone I have ever known.  I swear, Coach had a great nickname for all of us.  He never slowed down.  Those names were part reality, part fantasy.  We loved hearing the nicknames of the new freshmen.  He was the king of the nickname givers! Anthony had the gift of discernment.

So, I have an assignment for all of you.  I want you to tell me about YOUR nickname and how you got it.  I kind of promise I won’t use it in a blog unless it is a really great story.  Nicknames make me happy....nicknames are bits of love that are scattered by circumstance or happenstance.  Just let me know your alias. Please?

Ray Ray

Rockhead

Kitty

Cheeseburger

Di Di Chi

Boogie

Termite

Smitty

Beave

Pets

Spot

Smiley

Cooter

The Mullet

Buster

Real Ron

Bo

Cindy Lou-Who

Mo

Little Weave

Girly-girl

And the list goes on.....comment on your nickname and how you got it.....or even better, tell me nicknames and how they were earned by others.  Talk about March Madness.....

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas, If Only in My Dreams” Part One or Pass the Snickerdoodle Cookies

I spent some good time this week baking with Molly, Mary Michael, Sally, Mom, and Arlene Hauser. Mom and Arlene are in heaven but their recipes were in my kitchen.  At this time of year, I’m one to get all sentimental and think about......cookies.  No lie; most of my past can be summed up in the cookies I bake.

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It was the fall of 1963.  We city kids from State Center that lived north of Highway 30 got bused to Clemons Junior High 8 miles from home in the northern part of the West Marshall district.  Sounds bad?  Bussing?  OH HECK NO!   Clemons Junior High was where I decided I wanted to teach middle school.  You’ve heard the phrase, “Is this heaven?  No, it’s Iowa.” Most of us felt the same way about the bus ride, the people that we met, and the activities we participated in.... and school was okay, too.   That’s where I met some of the greatest people in my life....but I digress.  I wanted to tell you about Snickerdoodle Cookies.

One Clemons lass that immediately captured all of our State Center hearts was Marlys Hauser.  She was so much fun and just twinkled at the thought of .... anything.  Her laugh was contagious.  She was smart as a whip and saw life through the eyes of a dreamer....her imagination and her creativity were marvelous.  She had bonfires at her house and....parties!  I stayed overnight at her house as much as I could-- she had her own bedroom under the eaves and it was heaven.              

Marlys Hauser's mom, Arlene, was one hell of a cook.  I mean, the lady was magic.   Oh, she taught me so much about baking, food preparation, and combining tastes.   Not only did I get to have fun with Marlys, her mom taught me how to make pizza! IN HER OWN OVEN!    (FYI....her daddy could be an entire blog by himself....he was one of the nicest people in the world.)

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But, the magic that Arlene Hauser’s cooking created that I loved best were her Snickerdoodle Cookies.  Melt in your mouth, warm, cinnamonny bites of plain deliciousness--they are a favorite of mine still.

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Wednesday night the family played Christmas bingo and Mary Michael tallied which cookie we liked best.... the Snickerdoodles won!  I might have been sitting in a farmhouse kitchen in Central Georgia, but my heart was back in a farmhouse kitchen outside of Clemons, Iowa 53 years ago remembering a sweet piece of my life.  Marlys, thank you for sharing your family with all of us.  Merry Christmas from Georgia!

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx: Thanksgiving.....synonymus with mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, stuffing. Stufffing ?.....that's how I'll pack myself into my jean...

Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx

Thanksgiving.....synonymous with mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, stuffing.

Stufffing ?.....that's how I'll pack myself into my jeans this next week.

We will be celebrating a day dedicated to the delicacies of a perpetually hungry woman.

But let me digress to the latest diet.

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Bill and I are eating to live.
Not living to eat.

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I have been counting the calories of those foods that I eat.  I have lost 25 pounds by eating correctly.

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Correctly is relative.  Eating a bag of Cheetos is not correct.  Eating Kale is correct.  Eating a box of candy is not correct.  Eating an apple is correct.  Eating chicken can be an oxymoron....eating a skinless chicken breast is correct.....eating the skin off a piece of friend chicken and leaving the meat is incorrect.

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So, here comes Thanksgiving.  I shall keep moving forward on my quest to be healthy.  I shall deep walking.  But, I shall eat pie.

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I know myself well.  Pie is who I am.

Hurricanes, Hericanes, and Hymnicanes

HURR

Dang....good, old hurricane Matthew has my attention.  Niece Erin and I were talking last weekend that experiencing a tropical depression this past summer was enough for us.  I am a chicken of the highest order.  Sustained winds do not thrill me.  My friend, Patty Tresemer said it best, “That sounds like a 14 hour tornado!”

Prayers for all who are directly affected by this tremendous storm.  Thank you to the law enforcement officials, FEMA workers, and all who help others in their time of need.  You are angels on earth.  

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HER

I saw a middle aged lady acting like a fool at Kroger yesterday.  She was loud talking, “Does anyone work here?  Does anyone work here?”

A young teenager meekly said, “Well, I guess I do.”  

She then proceeded to verbally accost this young man for most of the ills of the world.  He was so young, so sincere.  So OBVIOUSLY not in charge of any of her asinine complaints.  

Therefore, I looked the lady straight in the eyes and said, “Bite me.”  I walked away.  That shut her up.  

FYI.....do not pick on children (even big children) in front of me.  I lose all control.  

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HYMN

Good bye, Arnold Palmer!  Arnie’s memorial service had some of the best music that I’ve heard in a long time.  It was a delightful send off for a wonderful person.  A good hymn can lighten the load and  make our souls sing.  

Church music can make my day.  It doesn’t have to be fancy.  It doesn’t have to be in tune...I just love hearing people sing about their faith for others to hear.  There are hymns that take me straight back to my childhood, or to the burial of the 17 year old family cat (we whistled “How Great Thou Art”) or a concert where Pat McCall and Alice Ridgeway played a duet of “It is Well with My Soul.”  

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We should all probably sing a verse or two of “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” and say a prayer or two for individuals facing challenges unknown to us.   Be it Hurricanes or Hericanes!