A Practice Round

Here are Nichole and Ken..soon to be betrothed.
They are watching Griffin play some round ball while letting Grif's siblings, Cooper & Parker hang out with them. They THINK that they want to procreate a passel of children because of being around the "perfect three" off-springs of Sean & Annie.













I'll bet Ken slept well after THAT day..but wait until he is changing the diapers!

A Day with the Youngest Male Murphy

Cooper will be three in April ~ and he will tell you so!
I had a magical three hours with this little bundle of confidence.
He ALMOST BEAT ME at my two favorite sports!




But I'm banking on him taking care of me in my old age....

Honk if You Love Parker!

Hey, Mom! Look what I found! Is it ok if I take a quick tour around the neighborhood? I'll take Cooper and Griffin with me, OK, Mom? Huh?
What, Dad?


Aw, Pop...do I HAVE to give the keys back to Mom?

Gutter ball...

Cry-Baby?

Yesterday one of my nearest and dearest friends (or "former" friend)told me that I was the biggest "ball-baby" she ever knew.
She makes fun of me because I DO maybe cry at silly times..like
Super Market grand openings (cutting that ribbon is SOOO emotional for me!) and the receipt of free address labels sent by my favorite charity.
On this occasion I had gotten a little misty-eyed because my (former) friend's two year old had brightened her day by surprising her by a spontaneous
"I love you"...well, that sparked memories of when her husband was just 3 yrs old and he used to say that to my Mom & Dad, who happened to be their grandson.

Well, that lead to me thinking of how much I missed my Mom & Dad & brother and so I had a very fleeting moment of being choked up. Ok, maybe it DID last five hours ~ but it was cathartic.

I always have and always will have slippery, well-oiled tear ducts. I guess that means I feel stuff. I will continue to get a lump in my throat when I see the color guard march to the National Anthem...I will still shed a little tear when given a nice greeting card...and I will continue to love it when anyone tells anyone else at a time of need, that they love them.
There's nothing greater!

I would go on but my keys are a little slippery and my glasses are fogged up.

The Golden V

Why geese fly in a "V" formation:

As each goose flaps its wings in formation it creates "uplift" for the birds that follow. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew alone. When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of flying alone. It quickly moves back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front of it.

If we have as much common sense as a goose, we stay in formation with those headed where we want to go. When we join a group staying on course is much easier.

When the lead goose tires, it rotates back into the formation and another goose flies to the point position.

Geese flying in formation honk to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.

In groups where there is encouragement, the production is much greater. The power of encouragement minimizes the isolation of being an independent agent.

When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two geese drop out of formation and follow it down to help protect it. They stay with it until it dies or is able to fly again. Then, they launch out with another formation or catch up with the flock.

Synergy = One plus One equal ... more than two.
We can learn a lot from these "bird-brains"!

Cyber-SPACEY

Have you ever had a day when everything you touched in cyber-space turned to _ _ _ _ (a word that you cannot say in front of anyone under the age of 107)?

I admit that I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer; not even the brightest light on the porch; I may be 2 fries short of a Happy Meal ~ but I'm not TOTALLY ignorant about electronics. I can use a hair dryer like a Hollywood make-over artist. The can opener and I are in such rhythm that we could give the contestants on Dancing With The Stars a run for their "cha-cha".
Light switches are a breeze for me now that I have attended the Ace Hardware store class on "Understanding How to Turn on a Dimmer Toggle Switch". ( I display the diploma proudly on the wall...hung up with scotch tape)

But ~ put me in front of a computer that has a TV screen and LOOK OUT! I am trying to channel surf for the latest cooking show instead of installing the software program that will make my life much easier and organized.
"Re-booting" to me means that I missed an eyelet in lacing up my muck-kickers.

Yesterday I spent six hours and forty-four minutes trying to load a new program on my laptop that would allow me to keep track of my accounts receivable and my accounts payable. This same program should also make my life easier by alphabetizing my Christmas card list and send me daily "ticklers" to nudge me to mail out a birthday card ~ or a (fifteenth) letter to Ed McMahon to remind his staff that my house is the one level that flies flags from the garage as it seems his Prize Patrol people keep getting lost.

After 15,438 frustrated and unsuccessful attempts at completing this task, I called the "help-desk" phone number that was listed on my software box..."24 hour assistance" and "Easily Installed in 3 Minutes" were a couple of phrases that were boldly printed on the packaging.
I THINK I was talking to a real person but I didn't understand a word he said because of the lousy connection (two tin cans and a string might have helped) and his accent. I don't believe that this person was anywhere in our stratosphere and probably had no idea that Hillary and Bill have sheds tears in the past week. While we were attempting to communicate, I heard chanting in the background...
From MY end, I was so exhausted of dealing with this whole mess of not being able to understand my "help-desk attendee" that apparently while he had me on hold to pray with the cows, I was awakened by my own snoring.

I'm thinking about now that I will remain dis-organized and keep track of my finances the old fashioned way...with a calculator and my checkbook.
I guess I will just look at the calendar to remind me of stuff.
Cyber-Peg I am not.

Dare To Dream

I feel like most of the Christmas Holiday was kind of a blur. I had some lousy stomach flu which allowed me to sail through the festivities without gaining an ounce. That was the ONLY good thing about feeling lousy when every day there were friends and family to enjoy and lots of food to sample.

So, now I feel great! I could walk to Wyoming if I had the urge. I'm ready to party and it's time to go back to work. Time to begin the annual 4 day exercise program (that lasts for half of the video because I need to change my work-out ensemble as it is too snug).

When I think of winter and the start of a new year, I think of ice skating. In reality, I am a terrible skater. When I was in Girl Scouts, I tried to earn an ice skating badge. My Mom took me to the group lessons and when the instructor told us to skate over to the other side of the rink, I had to sit...and kinda scooch over to the other side. When the laughter subsided (from the instructor, no less!) some kind soul helped me up but I ended up feeling like the "coolest" kid in the class...literally ~ because of the my many stumblings that created ice carvings on my face (and other parts of the anatomy).

But I still have my dreams and I still believe in my mind that I can go out on the ice and perform an inside axel, triple salchow and a spiral that would make each audience member stand up and throw flowers. When in fact, the spiral would be the DEATH spiral and my spin would make people throw more than flowers.

I don't want to lose my dream. Heck, it's the New Year so why not set un-attainable goals?

Today I will find an outdoor rink and dress with skating tights and a colorful scarf thrown fashionably around my neck, wear my skates tied together over my shoulder like Loretta Young did in an ancient forgettable movie.

I will then ~ lace up my skates, take a deep breath...

and pull on sweat pants as I sit comfortably with a hot chocolate to watch others procure ice carvings on their faces.

Happy New Year!

Auld Lang Syne

Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago !

Chorus:
For old long ago, my dear
For old long ago,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For old long ago.

We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For old long ago.

We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since old long ago.

And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill draught (of ale)
For old long ago!

And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For old long ago!

Another Tradition ~ Too Often Forgotten

I know that Thanksgiving has come and gone.
Christmas is now a just the picture of Uncle Oscar's Santa's hat tumbling into the punch...
but if we received a gift, it would be nice to write a note of gratitude.
(NOT an email, Brian!)

December 26....and all through the house....not a creature was conscious...

Who feels like this? Raise your hand!

Give Santa Some Credit

Is anyone else worried that Santa's credit cards might be maxed out?
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that his plastic holds up better than the average old guy wearing a red suit.

Families Are ~

The Little Murphs
Parker
Cooper
Cousin Connor with Griffin

Holiday Patience

Stay calm

Have lots and lots of patience...

And Keep your cell phone handy to dial 911...



(picture from AP wire photo)

Rejections of All Kinds - Should We Hold Grudges?

I've been known to have a pretty healthy ego ~ not conceited, of course, but confident in my never-ending talents and flawless abilities. Just about everything in my life seems perfect, from my faultless way I fold laundry to my error-free bookkeeping. So when I get rejected, my inner self is aghast with shock!
In the past week, a store clerk handed me back my American Express with a disgusted look that said, "You are a loser"...when in fact, the magnetic strip had been chipped just enough to dis-allow my credit card authorization. I handed it back to him and told him to hand-key in the numbers and he acted like I had asked him to run an uphill marathon on one leg! But I still felt kinda rejected.

I can remember my first BIG disappointment (let's not use the work "rejected" anymore) ~ I was in high school knowing that my future was in being a comedic actress. I had applied to one school, Denison University in Granville, Ohio. Denison is a wonderful school that had a top-notch fine liberal arts/theater program. Many well-known actors had graduated from Dennison. (John Davidson, Hal Holbrook..even Bobby Rahal!)
To be considered, I had to be personally interviewed as well as submit an audio tape of me acting out a scene in a play. I coerced my boyfriend, John Lampe, to read the scene with me. We practiced and practiced until we sounded perfect. I sent in the tape and waited. Every day I would come home from school expecting a marching band to greet me with the assumed news that I would not only be accepted to the college, but probably star as the lead in their fall play production.
So, at this point you know that I received a crappy little letter saying "you may want to consider blogging for the rest of your life because you are not Denison material"...

I have worked at least 59 jobs now and have only received a handful of letters
with the news, "Your skills are not a fit with our organization's goals"...but each one is like a dagger piercing the heart (not that a dagger has ever really entered any part of my body so I don't know why I said that).

I see people pick up their ringing phone, check the caller ID and not answer it. Naturally, the person on the other end is unaware that they have been blown off. I know that NO ONE has EVER done that to ME. Well, almost never.

I was dining at a 4 star restaurant about a month ago when I caught a glimpse of a friend of mine. This is a woman who would knock over the Pope to answer her phone. I thought that I would play a joke on her by calling her cell phone with the pretense of asking her to help me with my disabled car. Well, the phone must have rung because she picked it up from out of her purse...looked at the caller ID and placed it back in her purse!
WHAT? She knew it was me! Of course, confident Peg thought that she must know other Peggy Murphys ~ because surely, she would take MY call!
I promptly stormed over to her table and threw my bill on her salad plate and dramatically stomped off. I know now why Denison discarded my college application ~ when I made my theatrical dining room exit, I knocked into a busboy with a tray of glasses that came ultimately and in slow motion, came clattering to the floor.

I've had my baked goods snubbed at the charity bizarre and that hurts...
I've been the second one chosen when picking teams for sporting events...
I've had magazines send me emails saying my articles will be "filed for future consideration"..
I've had my poorly wrapped Christmas present be the last one chosen at a Christmas exchange...
I've had my dog Bailey wag his tail at strangers more than at me...
But I'm OK with all of that....

But the worst was yet to come. I've asked my nephew, Connor, for a year now, to come visit me for a weekend. I have bribed him with offerings like payment for yet another set of tennis lessons...or take him to Paris...or buy him three x-boxes (whatever THEY are). He told me, "I can't, Aunt Peggy. I need to trim my toenails"...or some other such excuse. But, that's ok...I know he loves me.

But what I think really bothers me...is that Denison University offered my boyfriend a scholarship from that audio tape we made! Yep...for THAT, I hold a grudge.

Headlines That Make You Wonder How The Editor Got the Job

I would think that newspaper writer-type jobs would be hard to acquire because of the competition. One writing headlines for a paper should maybe "have a clue". Well, maybe the following samples of journalism at it's best was just a lone incident on an "off" day for someone ~

* Deaf mute gets new hearing in killing (Beltone,maybe?)
* Police begin campaign to run down jaywalkers (that’s pretty severe punishment!)
* Safety experts say school bus passengers should be belted (aw, c’mon!)
* Iraqi head seeks arms (well, I’ve gotta "hand" it to them)

Grammar often botches other headlines ~

* Eye drops off shelf (40 "lashes" to the one who pushed it off)
* Squad helps dog bite victim (What are they teaching in squad school these days?)
* Dealers will hear car talk at noon (I don’t care if the car can sing the National Anthem, I just want it to give me better gas mileage!)
* Enraged cow injures farmer with ax (Isn't that over-kill? A mere head butt might have worked)
* Lawmen from Mexico barbecue guests (what ever happened to good ole wiennies?)
* Miners refuse to work after death (wow..now that’s an extended retirement)
* Two sisters reunite after eighteen years at checkout counter (I wonder if they were arguing over what to buy for dinner that night?)

Once in a while, a botched headline takes on a meaning opposite from the one
intended ~

* Nicaragua sets goal to wipe out literacy (like newspaper editors?)

Sometimes newspaper editors state the obvious ~

* If strike isn't settled quickly it may last a while
* War dims hope for peace (really?)
* Smokers are productive, but death cuts efficiency (DOUBLE really?)
* Cold wave linked to temperatures (NOW I am informed!)
* Blind woman gets new kidney from dad she hasn't seen in years (no comment)
* Man is fatally slain (yes, but did he DIE?)
* Something went wrong in jet crash, experts say (and EXPERTS should know!)

Hmmm...Maybe someone is spiking the coffee in the newsroom?

UGH

This is how my throat feels today.

The Little Things in Life

Why is it that I let the small things in life bother me so much?
Why do I want to throw the empty toilet paper roll all the way to Istanbul when I have had to be the sole heir to the responsibility of replacing the toilet paper?
Maybe it's because I must maintain a certain amount of decorum, maturity and professionalism ten hours out of the day so in the privacy of my home, I can go ballistic over being stuck with this seemingly thankless job.
(Author's note: My age was recently compared to Joy Philbin, who is Regis's wife...and she is TEN YEARS older than me ~ thus, I am acting 66 instead of my true young 56 years of age)

Back to toilet paper ~ there can be 28 people in and out of the bathroom and it's ME who is left with one pitiful lone sheet stuck on the nearly naked roll. How hard can it be to reach around and put another roll on the spindle? You're just sitting there "passing the time" anyway!

Even thought I feel like a martyr in having this enormous responsibility, I think I have become a wee bit obsessed about this "commission" that has been un-sanctimoniously awarded to me and am taking it too seriously.
Recently I have been taking out a new roll and installing it before the current roll is even 20% used. I can recognize the quality and number of plies in three seconds by a mere quick touch.

Now after I have installed the new roll, I place the old roll with a good 22 uses left in it's T-P life, on top ~ then I feel like I am a-"head" (that's "john" vernacular) of my job as a professional T-P installer.

Sadly, I have been know to execute this same action when I visit friends homes, stranger's houses, restaurants, gas stations and rest stops. Some just don't understand.

Let's face it, I have become the Queen of T-P and it can be a "royal" pain in the tush!
I want to relinquish my crown!

Pleeze...someone help me out here...I'm starting to look "flushed" a lot.

Primary Colors

Here's a quiz for you:
How many colors are there?
Whom do we think is the authority on this subject?
Crayola crayons, of course. They hold a LOT of power, I believe.

In 1903 they decided that there were 8 colors ~ When I tried to think of what they were I kept forgetting one....
violet...
1949-1957 - Crayola changed their mind and said there were 48 colors for their crayons and fashion designers, artists and painters followed suit and added these hues to their palette.

1958-1971 - NOW there were 64 colors

1972 - 1989 - Eight more colors were added to make 72!

1990 - 1992 - They had to change the size of their crayon box once again to accommodate 80!

1993 - There were 96 crayon colors
1998 - now - 120 colors!!

In 2003, Crayola had the nerve to "retire" four colors so they could add four. Maybe someone said "enough is enough" ~ Pretty soon a four year old is going to have to carry a backpack just to carry crayons!

One of the retired colors was "teal blue" to make room for "wild blue yonder" or was it Jazzberry Jam?
I have at least USED the term "teal blue" whereas the others have escaped my lips.

Some of the colors you may not recognize are:
Piggy pink
Mauvelous
Banana Mania
Eggplant
Beaver

As some of you know, I am not the fashion queen on my street..I don't even make it close to being in the royal court. I must take after my Dad who would wear plaids with stripes while my Mom always looked like she just stepped out of Glamour Magazine. Once she said to me when I was just getting signs that gray hair was my primary color, "Peggy, please stick to wearing black and white...it's tough to mess that up."

So, when you are exceptionally bored, try to come up with just 48 colors...then keep stretching yourself until you turn "wild blue yonder" blue.

No Plumber Genes (Jeans) Here

I'm not COMPLAINING but ~ if a professional charges $109/hour to fix your pipes, don't you think they could afford a pair of jeans that fit correctly so I didn't have to be "exposed" to the "great divide"?

Am I paying for MORE than just a clear garbage disposal? Maybe I got a free "show" because he fixed my pipe problem in under 15 minutes but I was charged the same as if he had spent the full 3600 seconds on four toilets, three sinks and an errant sprinkler-head instead of just one laundry room pipe. I almost asked him if he could paint the hallway for the other 45 minutes...

The trouble is that in the Murphy family we have NO ONE who can fix ANYTHING. Even the wonderful women the Murphy men have linked with have zero talent in repair work. At least they are all creative and crafty, which again, the crafty part has never been in our family gene pool.
Imagine if we need 10 hours a year of Fix-it stuff $100/hour...that's $10,000 over a ten year period of time! Maybe we should just send one family member to repair school. Wow...I can't even think who would know where to strap on the tool belt.
One family member might think it was a receptacle for a beer bottle, while another one wold think it was a handy place for a remote ~ to maybe change the TV channel to The Office.

Oh, crud...my computer is acting up. I may not be able to post this blog today.
Who should I call?
Oh, I know..the bank ~ for a LOAN

The Great Escape

I drove past a turkey farm on Thanksgiving night and enjoyed quite a site. There were a handful of turkeys that were "high-fiving" each other's feathers as they strutted around a pile of obviously discarded clothing. The music they were a-trottin' and dancing the "feather-jive" to was ~ "I Will Survive"
This scene intrigued me enough to get out of my car for a closer look.

There, in the pile, were Halloween costumes that looked like they would be a perfect fit for a...um..."turkey-sized" borrower.
I always wondered how some turkeys managed to escape the "Hatchet Holiday"...

Groucho Turkey still had his disguise on and one feathered friend was sporting a Nixon mask. (not surprising since Nixon seemed to stick around longer than he should have)
The Big Bird Costume was still unused, in it's original package.

I headed home knowing that the left-over turkey that my Thanksgiving dinner host had graciously given to me would NOT end up on MY plate.

Please pass the tuna fish.
(I feel another blog coming on for the protection of guppies everywhere)

Thanks-Giving

Maybe some of us forget the GIVING part of Thanksgiving. A lot of us even just by-pass the THANKING part too. Many of us just get caught up with the hussle/hassle of preparing a huge dinner and not once do we stop for just 5 minutes to reflect as to how lucky we truly are.

Hallmark and other greeting card companies are not making any money on this Thanksgiving Holiday. It seems to me that this would be one of the top three celebrations of the year (Birthday and Christmas being right up there) where we should be grabbing a card to send out to those we GIVE THANKS to. I don't see that happening...

Even on other special days, how many times do we look someone in the eye and say, "Thank-you". If someone says it, the eye contact is quickly released as it seems as thought there is something way too intimate in telling someone face to face they are grateful to them.

One thanksgiving when I was about 16, naive, altruistic and hopeful, I asked my family members to turn to the person next to them and tell them one thing they were grateful to them for. Well, the jokes came flying and not one person could do it. In fact, one person actually hurt someone else's feelings trying to be funny.

Here I am thinking that thankfulness should be an everyday occurrence but I don't see a lot of that going on, present Holiday NOT an exception.

Although I am not saying this in person, I still mean it ~

Thank you, _______________ for making me laugh just at the right moments.
Thank you, _______________ for allowing me to share in the joy of your children.
Thank you, _______________ for sharing with me your frustrations and fears as well as your highlights and lowlights.
Thank you, _______________ for bringing God back into my life.
Thank you, _______________ for teaching me the recipe that I take credit for when someone raves about my cooking.
Thank you, _______________ for selling me a comfortable couch at a discount.
Thank you, _______________ for always asking me how my day is going ~ and really want to know as I go through your check-out line at Krogers.
Thank you, _______________ for working for Rumpke and picking up my trash every Tuesday morning.
Thank you, _______________ for being the best dog, pet, cuddler a gal could ask for.
Thank you, _______________ for not laughing when you saw me and noticed that I had only put make-up on one eye.
Thank you, _______________ for being the most sensitive relative I could ask for.
(I know you all think that the above sentence is aimed at you...and it is)
Thank you, _______________ for being the best, most understanding, fun friend anyone could be blessed with. (hmmm...how many think that is you? You're right)
Thank you, _______________ for your discount coupons for your world-class pizza.
Thank you, _______________ for being an annoying millionaire with the comb-over hair who makes such rude remarks that you make me realize the guy who just cut me off in traffic isn't that bad.
Thank you, _______________ for being so funny on TV that my sides hurt from laughing at your material.
Thank you, _______________ for honoring my request to be on the DO NOT CALL list and leaving my phone silent during dinner hour.
Thank you, _______________ for providing entertaining blogs that are also thought-provoking.
Thank you, _______________ for throwing my DRY newspaper IN my driveway instead of what you used to do.

Thank you, _______________ for reading this blog.
I am truly grateful.

Now, go give thanks...that's an order! You'll thank me for this advice later.

Time to Become a Vegetarian

When I was young and my Mom & Dad were cleaning the turkey, it was tradition to name the naked bird in the sink. Since I hadn't seen it alive ~ or looked into it's baby brown eyes ~ or tweaked it's little beak, it wasn't a problem. So, we creatively named it EVERY YEAR, "Tom".

In my 56 years, 9 months and 15 days on this earth, I have had no trouble eating pig, chicken and cow remains. I never give it a thought that these are animals that are just a little different than my little pet yorkie-poo pooch, Bailey.

Now I know that none of them has ever begged me to play fetch ~ or snuggled up close during a thunderstorm ~ or asked me to scratch their belly. But I'm thinking that maybe I should stop eating animals that might feel the pain of a sharp ax blade creasing the neck.

But you all go ahead...enjoy your fowl.

I'll just eat the dressing.

A Two-letter Power Word

We are surrounded by negativity, right?
We are constantly reminded of what others do NOT want us to do...what an invisible force has commanded us to avoid...we see the "signs" everyday. Seeing the word "NO" is an hourly occurrence!

No U-Turn
No Soliciting
No Smoking
No Dogs Allowed
No Skateboarding
No Swimming/Diving
No Loitering
No Standing
No Fishing
No Camping
No Dumping
No Parking
No Shoes, No Shirt, No service
No Trespassing
No Talking
No Solicitation
No Exit
No Outlet
No Passing
No Right Turn
No Pain/No Gain
No monkeying around

Even when there is GOOD news, it sometimes starts with a NO...
No appointment required
No payments for six months

So (drum roll here) why is it that we have such trouble saying NO to others when we need to?
Today is the official kick-off for the six week crush of the Holiday Season. I feel like the quarterback for the Bengals stepping back to pass and my entire front line went to the sidelines for a smoke and I am facing eight 350 pound tacklers wanting to see me kiss the ground. Thanksgiving is only 3 days away and people are already winded from even thinking about the Holiday push.
The one comment that I hear most often is: I USED to love the Holiday but it has just gotten to be too much work...way too hectic.

Wouldn't it be nice to actually ENJOY this Holiday by NOT taking on too much? Wouldn't your family enjoy it more too? ~ and isn't that what the Holidays are mostly about?
So how do we create a balance so we balance our natural benevolent nature of wanting to save the world and caring for others while still maintaining a delicate balance with our family responsibilities?
Kinda simple, I think.

We need to learn that it is OK to set boundaries and communicate that.
Why is it that we will put our lives on hold or push our own duties, obligations and priorities aside, to say YES when we should say NO?
Certainly there are circumstances when someone is in dire need of our help and we should attempt to drop everything we can to assist in that. But when saying YES becomes a stress point that grows into a breaking point, we should step back and learn to use that expression that we see everyday.
NO.

We will still be loved.
We will still be accepted.
We may even keep our patience, sanity and relationship with others by saying NO when our plate is already full.

Wait, hang on..my phone is ringing...
I guess I gotta wrap this up.
It was my neighbor who called whom I haven't talked with since 1998. She needs for me to cut her grass since she has a sprained ankle. She also said it would be helpful if I went grocery shopping and ran her to the bank real quick. "This should only take a few hours...you are so sweet to help out" she said.
She continued ~ "Oh, the Doctor says that I will need about four weeks off my feet and my poodle, Daisy needs a walk three times a day and I know how YOU love dogs..."

So, I thought of making up 28 excuses ~ why couldn't I just say, "No"?
Oh, well, the exercise will do me good.
(I Mean the exercise of saying "NO"...)

Four Letter Words

I used to call GOLF a four letter word...but only on the days I missed the easy putts.
Then I just relegated the four-letter bad-word moniker to PUTT.

In college some of my "class-less"-mates called WORK a four letter word.

Lately I have heard almost all of the most annoying four letter verbs being spewed on TV with regularity. A few years ago, mouths would have been washed out with foul-tasting soap (I almost typed "soup" but that was in deference to Mom's icky beef bouillon serving)if even one of those words were uttered.

Just yesterday the weatherman spoke a four-letter word and I wanted to wash his mouth out with something vile. The temperature had been a balmy 65 degrees two days ago yet he had the nerve to forecast S N O W flurries for the day. ARGHRRGHRHG!@%#*#!^@*$*($!#%!

One true story stands out in my mind as the all time most memorable rejection of a foul word.
A seven year old girl got off the bus and ran in the house to tell her Mother about an upsetting event. She breathlessly recounted how a little boy had said a very naughty four-letter word! She asked if she could repeat it but her Mom shook her head "No"...then the little girl asked if she could SPELL it to her Mother. Finally, her Mom said, "Yes, if you just spell it in a whisper in my ear.."

The little girl climbed up on her Mother's lap and carefully and slowly whispered the spelling of this absolutely intolerable word ~

"H A T E"

Now THAT IS a four letter word.

How Can He Be 7 Already? He IS a GREAT-Nephew ~ Griffin!

Happy Birthday Griffin!
Lord, please bless his year number eight!
You sure have blessed seven of MY years with this young lad.

What Love means to a 4-8 year old...

I received an email from a friend in Florida that I wanted to share ~

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?"

________________________________________

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.
So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."

Rebecca- age 8
________________________________________

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

Billy - age 4
________________________________________

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."

Terri - age 4
________________________________________

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."

Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
________________________________________

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,"

Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)
________________________________________

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."

Tommy - age 6
________________________________________

"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore."

Cindy - age 8
________________________________________

"My mommy loves me more than anybody ~
you don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."

Clare - age 6
________________________________________

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." (Maybe Brad Pitt?)

Chris - age 7
________________________________________

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."

Mary Ann - age 4

________________________________________

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." (What an image)

Karen - age 7
________________________________________

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

Jessica - age 8
________________________________________

And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge.

The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,

"Nothing, I just helped him cry"
__________________________

Ah, out of the mouths of babes.....

November 13, 1921 ~ My Star Was Born

My Mom...she's pretty cute, isn't she?
She was such a good sport. Dad thought that taking this picture at a golf course in Hawaii on their 40th wedding anniversary was hysterical.

Today is her natal day and I honor her as much today as I did when she walked this earth plane. It's been 10 years since I hugged her, confided my deepest fears with her or giggled with her like we were 8 year olds.

She was my heroine, my star, my best friend.

I can still hear her tell me that I shouldn't put so much garlic in HER magic meatloaf recipe.
I can see her eyes twinkle when she would talk about her Grandsons, Brian or Sean ~ because they inspired her walk to carry a lot more bounce.
I can see her with her Great-Grandson, Connor when he was just five, sharing a pizza at Ciao's restaurant and leaning their heads together and laughing.

I can see Mom at The Irish Brigade's first gigs at a local pub when her son Dave's group only had 20 people in the audience...and Mom and Dad would stay until the end and Mom would lead the bleary-eyed remaining few in an Irish line dance during the last song of the night..all the while pumping her fist in the air to "Give Ireland Back To he Irish"...

I recall how each day how she would lean up to kiss my Father ~ and it made me feel good that they loved each other.

I miss her like crazy every day.

Mom ~ today I celebrate your birth, your life and your wonderful influence over so many lives that you gently and lovingly touched. I only wished more of you could have known her.

We Salute Our Veterans

I believe that some Holidays are "made up" celebrations to allow Hallmark-type companies to maybe increase their respective stock earnings. However, Veterans Day is a day that we should spend MORE time "saluting" because of the true love that is exhibited when one serves their country in uniform. When I went shopping to buy a card for my Uncle Hank, who was shot down three times in W.W.II, I couldn't find one! What's up with that?

Here are young men and women who left their homes, families, friends and loved ones to go to an unfamiliar foreign country with strangers to protect the safety and security of the same people they just left. I can't even imagine the courage it takes to do what our armed services are doing.

My parents were both Marines. Mom was a technical sergeant and Dad was a Master technical sergeant, which was one degree higher...on PAPER, that is. Everyone who knew my parents thought that Mom held the higher rank due to her strong personality and her strict code of behavior enforced around our house. My brother Dave and I used to say that we learned to march before we learned to crawl. I KNOW that I was taught by DAD how to make a bed so that a nickel could bounce 4 inches high off the tightly fitted sheets.

Dave & I used to LOVE listening to our parents talk about their experience serving our country in W.W. II. Dad would keep us spell-bound with stories that usually included the humor that was born from some scary situations. He rarely talked about the truly devastating experiences but when he did, his whole demeanor changed to a respectful, low tone.
One of the most repeated stories was his military assignment landed him in the Solomon Islands. Dad and his fellow Marines had been living in intense heat, in a tough environment with no showers or change of clothes for 10 days.
Finally, they were delivered great news ~
"Men. today you will change underwear!"
"Yeah! Yippee!" They all celebrated like it was Christmas! ~ until the announcement concluded with the words, "Murphy, you change with McQuade...McQuade, you change with Hunkler, Hunkler, you change with O'Shaughnessy....."

Ok..it's an old joke but we laughed just as had the 25th time Pop told it as the first time.

I don't agree AT ALL with this current invasion...but I SUPPORT and thank each and every person who has agreed to defend our country's freedom. I think we should take time today to teach our little ones to respect and honor are past veterans and our current service men and women.

I know that THIS is the real reason for anyone putting on a uniform.

OK, I've jumped down off my Tide Box now...

Old Sayings

In response to a question like, "So, are you going to be at work on time tomorrow?" one might say, "God willin' and if the creek don't rise"...well, "one" whom might just be "older than dirt" or had been sayin' that expression since he was "knee high to a grasshopper".(maybe better than saying "armpit height to a gray-tooth sloth")
From where do these golden pearls originate you might ask if you were a curious sort?
Well, "God willin' and if the creek don't rise" has nothing to do with water at all. It referred to an Indian tribe, The Creek Tribe, who were a little "madder than a hatter" that their land was stolen out from under them.
Kinda like the saying, "I would go to the mattresses for you, Guido"...(I added the "Guido" part) That was said when the mafia was after someone and people would go into hiding and stack bed mattresses up against the doors and windows.

I know, I am your oasis of knowledge in your desert of ignorance.

The Doctor is OUT...bye, bye, Dr Quinn, Dancing Woman

See Jane...

See Jane dance...

See Jane go....

Bye, bye, Jane.

Ok, so Dancing with the "Stars" (or Dancing With the Not-So-"Starish") has voted off another foot-flopper. Jane Seymour is an inspiration, for sure ~ but she tells us that over and over. She talks about how no one even "remotely" her age has ever done this before (excuse me! I am EXACTLY her age and I can cha-cha with the best..just don't ask me to "do-bop" in heels)..

Dr. Elegant goes on to bring out her MRI's to show her 3 compressed disks in her back then she flips out another set of MRI's to reveal her knee injuries. (I hear that she may resort to having her Doctor accompany her on interviews to confirm her medical records)

Retired Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman claimed in an interview today that she hasn't danced since she was 16 ~ but, hmmmmm I seem to remember seeing the previews of a bad movie where she supposedly danced and showed her enhanced bodacious ta'ta's to all viewers.

I'm still hooked on this show...and jealous of Dr. Jane, Medical Marvel Dancer.