The Complete Goober

Trying to find descriptive terms for offensive people can be a challenge. I am personally a big fan of douche, I like the sound of the word, the pronunciation. I find that it conveys the sentiment well without being totally crude. However it is much too crude a word for me to actually use. The PC crowd have eliminated helpful terms like retard, moron and spaz. I believe that "complete goober" draws an effective mental image without casting unnecessary aspersions on any but a fictional character and a legume. If either complains to me I plan to ignore the one and eat the other before checking myself into a healing institution for a 72 hour mini vacay. The definition of the complete goober would be an individual living his life without regard for the convenience of others or common sense. Now you may argue that I should not be thinking of ways to denigrate God's creatures but should be filling my heart with love. You may argue that, but I don't suppose I have to explain to you the risk you are running.

Who still cooks

The pizza places are all offering pasta dishes now. You can have mac & cheese delivered to your house,(granted it has bacon in it, but still, MAC & CHEESE.) If people aren't even cooking mac & cheese for themselves, why is the food network so popular? How can Paula Dean or Rachel Ray be so adored if nobody's cooking? These are the paradoxes of life that puzzle me. I would just like to go on record that I still cook and many of my friends and relatives still cook. I just take the night off if I'm sick, or think I might get sick, or feel tired or rushed or overwhelmed, but other than that, I cook.

If I'm fryin' I love you

I am willing to go to a fair amount of trouble for almost no reason at all. I will cook something complicated for people who won't notice or care. I will spend hours on party decorations or some such temporary thing. I notice people get sucked into spending time and energy on things which are not important to them. For me, sometimes its a creativity thing. Like if you are making something larger than life or smaller than life, count me in. I had a great time making a giant Cheerios box and a giant Crayola box. Sometimes I am showing off, see how good I am to help you with your project. But know this and remember it, if I fry, its true love.

Words John says at age two:
bubble make-meaning let's blow some bubbles
da-granddaddy
mom-grandmother, also recently gramma
Connee- Connor
Ahnna-anna
Deem-James
Jeff
Mach-Mark
Junee-June
Mawn-come on(usually accompanied by a tug on your hand)
Play-means go outside
Wa-wa-means he wants a sip of my drink, but if it is actually water he will say "Coke"

Salad Month

Everybody knows that January is salad month. Also diet supplement month, Weight Watcher coupon month, 24 Hour fitness free t-shirt with membership month, we ate ourselves into a stupor over the holidays and now its time to pay. This is normal life and when you properly observe salad month you can arrest the natural tendency toward weight gain each year. So what is the deal with the grocery stores? They have the nerve to put their Lean Cuisines on sale right next to the Ding Dongs which are also on sale. Its almost like a conspiracy. There was a meeting somewhere and the ad guys and the ceos got together and pointed out that if Ding Dong sales went down, so would diet pills and exercise equipment.
Now Ding Dongs go on sale in September when school starts because lazy parents put them in their kids lunches and...wait a minute, can this be coincidence. Sure the whole fat kid thing is part of the conspiracy, get 'em hooked early on the Ding Dongs and they'll be lifelong customers of the diet industry. If I had only bought stock in the Total Gym years ago I could now afford liposuction.

Fruitcake before Twinkies

The question continues each holiday season, why fruitcake? Is there a shortage of door stops? Did someone hang on to their fruitcake last year instead of regifting it like you're supposed to. Really fruitcake is the ultimate recycle when you think about it. I mean nobody eats those do they? I guess if you soak 'em in enough booze you might not care about the taste.
Now my mother, who is at home with the Lord, had fond memories of making fruitcake every Christmas with her mother. It was a special event with everyone involved, Daddy gathering the pecans, my mom and her sisters shelling them, their mom mixing the batter, etc. But think about it, what was going to be their big Christmas sweet? Maybe an orange, possibly a Hershey bar split three ways? The bottom line is, these people did not have Twinkies. In a pre-Twinkie world, fruitcake probably tasted sweet and special. How is fruitcake going to compete in the snack capital of the known universe?

postpone the nip and tuck

If you postpone your plastic surgery, or should I say your first plastic surgery, until you need several things done the net result will be a win. You'll be thinking, tummy tuck and lipo but looking in the mirror, you'll think, that's gonna make my butt and thighs look big. Or you'll want to get your neck tightened up a smidge but then your crow's feet will stand out a mile. Its like trying to paint the hall in your house, it makes all the other rooms look shabby. If you have multiple surgeries at once just consider the pain factor. Lie on your stomach, ouch! On your back, ouch! On your side strains the stitches, ouch! Also, surgery is dangerous, what if you die on the table? All your relatives will have to explain, no it wasn't a life or death heart surgery, it was elective. Then too what if you don't die but just lapse into a coma, a beautiful, slim, twenty-nine looking, coma.
I'm not saying we should all learn to age gracefully, but perhaps with a quiet resignation. Accept the sags and bags, dim the lights at home, wear more make-up, wear a veil in sunlight and tell everyone you have melanoma. There are a variety of coping mechanisms you can use, tell everyone you're twenty years older than you are, they'll be amazed, hopefully.

The Wisconsin Dairy Association

The Wisconsin Dairy Association ran an amazing ad campaign for a number of years. The campaign was the brainchild of Cathy Janes who designed an adorable little cartoon mouse which became instantly recognizable in a tri-state area. The WDA mouse could be purchased as a cuddly plush toy that squeaked. The image could be found on cups, posters, t-shirts, caps, bumper stickers, and billboards. The adventures of the little mouse could be followed on the WDA website in the form of a comic strip created by Ms. Janes and later written by Seth Baltz.
After four years of outstanding success with the campaign, the WDA ran a contest to name the mouse. This too was a popular project with whole classes of school children submitting their nominations for the honor of naming the mouse. Many radio stations held call in votes on peoples' ideas, ranging from "Fromage" to "Queso", and "Kream Abdul Jabbar" to "Curdles". There were many disappointed contestants when the WDA finally announced that the new name of their mascot was to be simply "Cheese". Still the name was easy and one-syllable and the mouse was still adorable so everyone embraced the new name and Cheese became even more popular. You could meet a live "Cheese" at mall openings and the state fair. Cheese became the most requested guest at school functions, beating out Smokey the Bear and Gruff the Crime Dog.
Eventually new leadership came to the board of the WDA and with it new ad representation. Although some old members of the board were loyal to the Cheese campaign, the new members wanted to revamp the image and looked for change to promote renewed interest in dairy. They used the ideas of a "young gun" at the ad agency, Connor Davis, to make "Cheese" into an older, cooler, mouse. They gave him sunglasses and a leather vest and put him on a motorcycle. The Cheese cartoon strip took on more adult themes which many considered to be in poor taste. They discontinued the Cheese plush toys and went with coffee mugs and mouse pads. The people of Wisconsin registered their opinions in editorials to the newspapers and in talk radio buzz. Many people were happy that Cheese had come of age, while others resented the arbitrary nature of the changes. Some Cheese fans felt that the changes were not family-friendly and that the new mascot lacked dignity. There were some in the anti-Cheese crowd that felt the the the colors used in the new campaign were possibly anti-american or even satanic. Overall, the WDA was extremely pleased with reactions from all sides because it meant that more people were thinking "cheese". From the statistical evidence it seemed that "Cheese" had always been a successful salesman for dairy in any form he assumed. In order to keep the controversy going, Mr. Davis proposed a summit meeting for the pro-new"Cheese" people and the anti-new"Cheese" people. The WDA ran another contest to choose a board of five people from each side to attend a weekend meeting at a luxury resort with the purpose of reaching a compromise on the "Cheese" situation. The contest proved to be another triumph for the WDA as thousands of people entered to win a place at the table. When the weekend event finally came the chosen participants spent time in separate meetings, hashing out their demands with like-minded people. The pro side had an easier time of negotiations since they were only arguing for the status quo. They finished their meetings and decided to go get massages. The anti group had a much more difficult time of reconciling the different moral, cultural and even legal objections which their constituents had raise. It was discovered during the discussions that many of the objections to the new Cheese were just the result of an unwillingness to embrace change. If was felt that the new Cheese might be acceptable if a little dignity could be preserved for the mouse. A leader emerged in the group, Jessica Mallow, who was able to convince everybody to agree to one request for change.
When the final summit took place on the Saturday afternoon, Ms. Mallow spoke for the anti-new "Cheese" contingentd, "All we are saying is give Cheese some pants"

Chocolate coins are seasonal

Somebody should have warned me that chocolate coins are seasonal. This is very inconvenient for a Bible school teacher. Do you know how many lessons can be helped along by the judicious use of chocolate coins. Incidentally the Christmas stories are not among the coin lessons, but Christmas is when the chocolate coins are available (and possibly left over 'til St. Patrick's day). I sense a conspiracy. Who are the Christian-haters who are scheduling candy sales for inappropriate times of year? The solution is obvious, stock the freezer at Christmas. You won't need much because even fresh, the coins don't taste good, and I'm pretty sure months in the freezer will not improve the situation.

Why does a stay-at-home Mom have to run so many errands?

I always mean to be a homemaker. I love making a pleasant home-base for my family. I remember how wonderful it was to have a home to come home to when I was growing up. As an adult, I still felt at home when I went to visit the parents. But it does take actual time at home in order to make it homey. As the family purchasing agent I must venture out to procure supplies. One errand turns into five easily. With gas prices I have to combine errands, and before you know it, the day is half gone. I've been going to the laundromat so that I can baby the septic system. There's another day gone. I have to go to the Y three mornings a week because I won't exercise on my own and I have to be responsible about the diabetes. This is turning out to be a whine.
Total subject change.
I have a friend, a bit of snob, maybe not the brightest bulb. He decided to get help for his drinking problem, he joined AAA. No meetings, and if you fall off the wagon, you can call them for a ride home.

best April Fool's joke in church

Our new preacher likes to shake us up a little so he had us stand up during his sermon and move to sit next to someone we wouldn't normally sit by. No spouses together either. Surprisingly uncomfortable, but we all participated to the best of our ability. No problem was detected until the children returned from children's church. I wasn't paying attention until the lady sitting next to me started giggling. I looked around and noticed all these puzzled three to six-year-olds. "I see grandma, but what happened to my mommy?" Oops. Only one child was traumatized but we passed the basket for her future therapy.

You just don't get to have that much fun in church very often although if you're a lifer like me, you can probably dredge up a story or two. I loved it back in 1970 when a long-haired hippie walked down the center aisle of our church during the sermon and just took his seat on the steps leading to the podium. I can remember our white shoes, white belt, Brylcreamed haired preacher, somewhat at a loss. They had a civil interchange and I don't recall any of the details, didn't matter, that was the coolest church service of my life to that point.

Church

A friend's son turned four years old and they decided to give him an allowance for doing a chore. His very first week he picked up all his toys and his mom carefully counted out five dimes to him. She enjoyed the beaming smile on his face. "What do you plan to do with your money?" she asked. He became thoughtful for a moment and replied, "I think I'll buy that snack at church." Puzzled since they don't sell snacks at her church, she realized he was referring to communion. After all they always pass the collection plate right after. Not bad logic for a four year old.

Grandmother

This first year of being a grandmother has been absorbing. I find that I am endlessly interested in this developing little person, in a way which is similar to my feelings for my first child. I have diverse demands on my time so that there are natural limits to my interaction with John. I have more knowledge about child development now than I did 26 years ago, but it makes not a scrap of difference. No child has ever been so clever or so beautiful as this little boy. His every movement and mood fascinates me. I love to watch him play, to watch the choices he makes, to note the expressions of interest and joy and anger and cunning on his face. When he shrugs his shoulder and looks at me, coyly, inviting me to join in his world, I am ready to drop everything and leap.

I am in week three of a neck/shoulder injury and I would just like to say, Ow. I went to the chiropractor for the first time in my life. Interesting. It has definitely helped me. I would say the pain is about on a level three, down from a solid nine. (one being a mosquito bite, ten being child birth)
The neighbors are getting a new roof today. It sounds like a giant making popcorn on his stove. These sorts of things make me nervous, that is homeowners repairing and maintaining their homes. I feel like a failure because I have no money to keep up the house and I don't work hard enough to do everything that I can do. Maybe I can at least do my house work this morning. That might make me feel better. Couldn't hurt.

Stacked and Piled

Stacked and Piled by Nancy Thomas

My life is full of children wild,

they run and play,

in carefree ways,

and always in the kitchen now,

dirty dishes, stacked and piled.

In single days, my mother smiled

to hear me say,

“Order is the parents' way.”

but these days I must wade and plow,

through toys and tots all stacked and piled.

My hair has not been washed or styled,

my nails are bad,

my wardrobe sad,

and ever, always, mounds and mounds

of dirty laundry, stacked and piled.

Children won't be stamped and filed

sticky messes

tangled tresses

but always at bedtime now,

hugs and kisses, stacked and piled.

If Bosnia were home.

I enjoyed a visit with my friend who lives in Bosnia. We went to Walmart for last minute treats to take back home. She is very sad that she can no longer take her genuine Dublin Dr. Pepper on the plane with her. She said it was a good thing she wasn't flying on the day they made everyone dump their liquids. They wouldn't have been able to pry her D.P. out of her hands and would have had to take her to jail. Not the best reference for a missionary.

Interesting thought: what would I take to Bosnia if I had a fifty pound weight limit. She took mint chocolate chips, canned biscuits, powdered Gatorade, cornbread mix and frozen cookie dough. Also Community brand coffee for some Louisiana ex-pats. On some trips she has taken Pace picante sauce, and a tortilla iron(a true act of love since it weighs about 8lbs. all by itself). I'm not sure what I would take but I have a feeling chocolate would top the list. I know people love the chocolate of other countries, but I dance with the one who brung me. Hershey's milk chocolate is the flavor of my youthful Trick or Treating. Also the once-a-year-impulse-purchase of a fourth of a pound of chocolate stars at the Montgomery Ward candy counter. Of course, Nestle when it has to be Crunch. And keep your traitorous raisins away from my chocolate, and my cookies while we're at it.

My life is a saga

My life is a saga, or perhaps a series of unfortunate events, or maybe more like Keystone Kops. I have children, four boys and a girl. I have 86% raised them(the youngest is fourteen). I know what to do with children. So when my friend needed someone to look after her two boys aged 2 and 4 for an afternoon I was happy to volunteer. The boys, Small and Smaller, came to my house and we proceeded to explore the outdoors. We fed the fish in the pond and I sat in the gazebo and watched them romp in the puddles in the grass from the recent rain. After an hour or so it occurred to me that I didn't really have permission for them to get wet. I herded them in for a sip of juice and a quick bath. At this point I noticed that Smaller was wearing an orthopedic device on his foot. Rats! It appeared to be okay. I hastily cleaned and dried it. I put the boys into t-shirts and sent them upstairs to play. I threw their clothes into the wash and started on the shoes. I can't explain what happened next except to say that I temporarily lost my mind. I put the shoes into my brand new dryer without first scraping the mud off of them. My son then came to inform me that Smaller perhaps wasn't finished with his toilet training. I raced upstairs to find the boys playing happily amongst a rather loose stool. I grabbed a towel and gathered up Smaller for his second bath of the afternoon. Back upstairs to try to clean up the rest of the mess. Paper towels, Lysol, some carpet cleaner, the t-shirt was beyond salvage. Then it was time to get the shoes out of the dryer. I opened the door and saw a fine thin coating of mud baked onto the entire surface of the dryer. And still damp shoes. I pulled the shoes out and fetched more paper towels, Lysol, bleach, possibly muratic acid. I was able to get them back into their own clothes but when they requested a movie, I totally caved. I don't intend to use t.v. as a babysitter, but I was exhausted.

Family bits

I have eccentric antecedents. My grandfather used a divining rod to find water, unsuccessfully as far as I know. His grandfather and his uncle were friends of the James brothers. Jesse and Frank used to visit their farm in the summer. Granny Petty made them stay in the barn in case the law came calling. Manon Petty insisted that he saw Jesse on the street of a Texas town, years after his supposed demise. Manon said Jesse was living incognito as a banker. Makes perfect sense.

Get me out of the poll pot

I have heard enough polls to last a lifetime. I'm tired of listening for ones that reflect my opinions. I'm tired of getting angry about how stupid America has become. I'm beyond weary of having to remind myself that they only poll the relative few who don't have caller ID and a life. I will now go on an aggressive program to live poll free. It will mean for the most part avoiding "news" sources since none of them seem able to report a story without revealing the dreadful truth of how we all feel about it. I anticipate that this will mean an upturn in my mood and outlook. I will enjoy the smiles of a grateful family.