Hallowed Thoughts

Hakko Harry and ittle Zizzie. ca 1992.

What "should" people of faith think about Halloween?

Do you think about Halloween … or to you is it just a fun time to dress up and carve pumpkins and tell ghost stories?

Since becoming a Christian (something I did relatively late in life, in my early 30s), I’ve struggled with reconciling my faith with the observance of Halloween – the second most celebrated holiday after Christmas. The struggle has been internal, as I continued to dress up and take my daughter trick-or-treating and to delight at seeing small children dressed up as superheroes and bumblebees and monkeys and the like.

One year, our youth group organized a party at the church. We learned, though, that even with our central location, we’re not in the best spot for trick-or-treating. Our church is situated on an island with little or no foot traffic. The approach to our front door from the parking lot is long and very very dark. But a few dozen people participated, and we handed out candy and little cards with a Bible verse and invitation to services and upcoming events. At the time we thought perhaps we’d do a drive-through trunk-and-treat activity in future years.

Some of my Christian friends are firm in the belief that Halloween cannot be reconciled with our call to be disciples of Jesus Christ. To them, there is no compromise. I respect that and feel rather wishy-washy in comparison with my own personal response. But I do agree that as thoughtful Christians, we should know what we are celebrating. So I’ve done a little more research and a little more thinking every year and still have yet to take a firm stand.

My eyes were opened a little wider last year when I attended the youth program at another church here in Saginaw on Oct. 30. In addition to hearing the pastor’s testimony about why he refuses to observe Halloween (stemming back to terrifying childhood memories of being chased in a part of Cuba where children were hunted for human sacrifice), I learned that there are people right here in our community TODAY who associate this time of year with fear – real fear – not fun.

Some of the youth testified that their parents and otherwise trusted adults in their lives were involved in devil worship, and Halloween is prime recruiting time. Most were frightened of the violence in their neighborhoods that escalates at this time of year. Rather than fond memories of dressing up and parties and trick-or-treating, they associate October 31 with hiding in the dark and praying that their homes are not destroyed. And I think most shocking to me was that they were praying for the souls of loved ones who choose darkness over light. This was heavy, heavy stuff.

I met young people with a very different understanding of developing a relationship with Jesus Christ. They possessed a heightened sense of urgency about accepting the Lord of Light and rejecting the forces of darkness. After listening to and praying with those young people, I remember feeling my conscience pricked for being not just wishy-washy about Halloween but wishy-washy in my faith.

So this year, All Hallows’ Eve falls on a Sunday. The Lord’s Day. It’s a good time to contemplate where faith and observance of the holiday intersect.

Here are some links I found with a lot of good reading on the subject:

http://www.religionlink.com/topic_101028.php

http://www.christianitytoday.com/16017

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2000/octoberweb-only/42.0.html

http://www.religioustolerance.org/hallo_ev.htm

http://www.cbn.com/spirituallife/OnlineDiscipleship/Halloween/halloween_Watt05.aspx

http://www.christiananswers.net/q-eden/halloween.html

Relevant scripture

(a handy list from one of the articles above; I encourage you to read the scripture, consider the context, and discern the relevance in your life)

1 Thessalonians 5:21-22

James 1:27

3 John 1:11

Romans 12:9

Deuteronomy 18:9-14

Ephesians 5:11-12

1 Timothy 4:1

1 Corinthians 10:21

2 Corinthians 6:14-17

Philippians 4:8

1 Corinthians 11:1

1 Corinthians 10:31

James 4:7-8

Ezekiel 44:23

Proverbs 22:6

Matthew 18:6

Hosea 4:6

John 3:19-20

Romans 13:12

Ephesians 6:11-18

1 John 5:19

2 Chronicles 7:14

Misty Hit the Big Time

The Great Cornholio looking for T.P. in my office.

My friend Misty just launched her own Web site yesterday: Mistyislosingit.com. In our short time working together, Misty introduced me to or inspired me to explore lots of new experiences.

Like Cornholio. I've led such a sheltered life.

Anyway, gwan over and check out Misty's new place.

Irony

 I likes to take stuff apart.

I don't iron very often. Wrinkly things are mostly fine with me. Besides, turning on an iron in my house can potentially be dangerous.

Many years ago, when I was in high school I think, my dad (shown in the photo at about age 3 or 4 I'm guessing) "fixed" our iron. After the fixing we could never turn it off so had to unplug it. I think Dad may have similarly fixed our toaster around that time. So I adopted what is actually a good safety habit of unplugging appliances immediately after use.

But for some reason last night I plugged in my iron, fully intending to iron a pair of khakis and then my mind wandered off to some other activity and I turned off the light and went upstairs, completely forgetting the intention to iron! A good half-hour later, I was sitting here, tap-tap-tapping on my computer, trying to get a head start on an assignment for my writing group and I suddenly remembered the iron. Alarmed, I sniffed the air while running downstairs, where I discovered the iron was warm, but not hot. It didn't turn itself off but at least wasn't burning a hole through the ironing board.

Domestic goddess that I am, I kind of suck at ironing anyway. And now I'm hungry for toast.

Thoughts on clutter, version 1.0

Clutter connector on my fridge

Bare refrigerators scare me. Or rather, I don't understand the mind of someone who can leave naked this wide-open canvas of possibility.

The fridge is my ever-evolving gallery of important photos and clever sayings and reminders and artwork. An impressive array of magnets connects all this flotsam and jetsam. The "Out of clutter ..." magnet is one of my favorites.

I have a tendency toward clutter. Those who know me well would probably call that an understatement. To a great degree, I've come to realize that it's a genetic affliction. But there are distinctive ways it manifests in my life.

Another one of those ponderings I'm just scratching the surface of. To start, I'd like to find the context in which Einstein said these words. I just did a quick Google search and found this associated with a lot of "work" quotes. Can anyone help me out?

In the meantime, we're headed off to Sunday School. We've been working on painting Bible verses on the walls of our youth room. Now, those are the words I really need to connect the parts of my life.

Clickety clackety ... we're bonding

Are you a tweeter?

I woke up this morning to the joyous sounds of Claudette gakking up her insides in some undisclosed location. That's always a nice way to start the day.

So I dragged myself out of the flannel sheets and went through the morning routine of filling her food dish (so she could, you know, do it again), turning up the heat and then scouting out all the usual locations ... the library, living room, hallway, dining room ... nada. Damn. That means when I least expect it later today I'm bound to slip on it and have even more mess to clean up or else another time soon I'll just stub my toe on petrified cat gak.

Thanks, Claudette.

It wasn't my intention to talk about cat gak today. It was just top of mind.

I'm sorry for not posting yesterday. Once again, I ran out of time in the morning and then after work I zipped down to Ann Arbor to get Lizz. And instead of going to some gastronomically amazing, but amazingly high-priced, place for dinner, Lizz treated me to baked macaroni and cheese, green beans and brownies in her apartment. What a treat! And then we drove home, unloaded the car, got into our jammies, jumped into my bed, pulled out our laptops and proceeded to bond.

In the old days, this would have meant pulling out whatever books we were reading at the time. We still do that, too. As I'm reading along, I snort when I come across something funny or ridiculous or whatever. If it's profound or thought-provoking, it might be a "hmmmm" or a "huh."

Lizz: "ye-es?"

Me: "ba!"

Lizz: "OK. Now you gotta share."

And I read her a sentence or a passage and we discuss and then we go back to enjoying our individual reading material until one of us produces some noise that brings us back together again. Usually it's me.

So this is what we did last night, only we were both checking and responding to e-mails - clicketyclacketyclicketyclackety - "Oh!" I'd say as I remembered something I'd wanted to share. 

And I'd interrupt her clicketyclacketing.  How does she ever live without me while at school?

I commented that I had a new follower on Twitter. I showed her my Twitter page (@NancyJustWrite). I'd avoided Twitter for a long time even though I'd set up an account long ago, I only recently started tweeting. Lizz is not a tweeter. But I showed her the people and organizations I was following.

Clickety clackety.

Then I remembered that Kay sent me a link to this funny site the other day ... it reminded me of My Milk Toof and a little of The Oatmeal and maybe a little of Rhymes With Orange. I'd made a mental note that I wanted to share it with Lizz so I said, "You have to check this out!"

And together we clicked on over to Hyperboleandahalf and proceeded to snort and guffaw as we read the main page stories together and then clicked on all the other little boxes, snorting and sniffling at all the funny bits. 

Just like old times. The reading, the sharing, the being together goes on until my eyes glaze over and I begin to feel the pumpkin time come. At which point, Lizz takes my reading material and turns off the lights and tucks me in and goes upstairs to her own cozy bed.

Clickety clackety snooze ...

In the pink

Everything's rosy

I've just discovered that I can edit/add effects to my Picasa photos in  something called Picnic. The little notes that come up while things are loading and opening and saving and whatevering are almost as fun as the ones on the ThinkGeek Web site that tell you that trained monkeys are calculating your order.

I think it was comedienne Rita Rudner who described  the experience of getting a mammogram as being  a little like lying down on the garage floor and asking someone to kindly drive over one of your breasts. I had my first mammogram a few years ago, and thought it was indeed a little like that.

Still, in her pinkness, Claudette wants to remind you to schedule your mammogram today.

Post-haste

What did you learn today?

I was almost not going to post anything today because I woke up late-ish this morning and didn't have time to write and then I figured it was just too late but I just checked SiteMeter and see that 16 people stopped by and now I feel really bad that I didn't have anything new for y'all to read.

I'm sorry. And I was trying so hard.

This is my dad, back in his teaching days. Some nice student must've written the "Smile" bit on the board. I'm guessing it was a girl because it looks like girlish writing, don't you think? Dad was an industrial arts (wood shop, metal shop, architectural drawing) teacher, and this photo was probably taken in the late 60s or early 70s so I think it's cool that there were girls in the class.

Every night at the dinner table, Dad would ask us what we learned at school. You were never allowed to say "nothing."

I know I learned new things at work today but I think it all spilled out while we were doing inverted poses in yoga tonight. Oops. However, I did learn that there's a gas station and a fee-free ATM very near to the office when I went out to lunch.

I know. That was totally worth waiting all day to hear about.

Friendly mountain

Montserrat, Spain. View from the monastery.

On my way to work yesterday, it was very very dark. That had to be wrong, I thought. I called Share to see if I'd missed announcement of a time change.

"What am I doing? I'm wearing big-girl pants and driving to work in the dark!" I yelled into the phone.

She LAUGHED at me.

Highlights of first day at new job:

• Eight e-mails waiting for me - wow!
• Really nice people - LOTS of them and some with same first name
• Sharing office with Scott and another writer
• As much as I thought I knew ... discovered how much more I have to learn

I wanted more shiny, and I sure got it!

29

Southern France. Winter 2005.

I'm thinking of the number 29 today.

My age?

The number of hours it took to upload this photo?

... or type a few characters? (What is UP with this computer today?)

The quantity of fuzzy socks I own?

The length of time I slept last night (unit: minutes).

... or the length of the commute to my new job (note to self: no catching up on lost sleep while driving).

Apparently, I'm not meant to say much today. Probably a good thing.

Happy Monday ... and here's to shiny new beginnings!

Playing with squash

I really have not done well at following NaBloPoMo's "Play" theme this month. I'm pretty sure that's OK. It's just a writing prompt in case I'm blocked and need a nudge. Though the idea of playing with squash (in this case, with an immersion blender as part of my soup-making process today) brings up the memory of teaching Lizz's Girl Scout troop how to make potato soup and not letting it cool sufficiently before putting batches of hot potatoes and broth in the blender and ... oh yeah, causing gluey potato bits and starchy liquid to spew all over the church kitchen we were using. Ceiling, cupboards, counter, floor, Girl Scouts, me ... good times! A cooking, cleaning and safety lesson all in one. Because I'm efficient like that.

I'm writing this post having just polished off my second bowl of Butternut Squash Soup. i've tinkered with various squash soup concoctions (love the stuff) but I got this particular recipe from Scott Kelly, chef at the Saginaw Downtown Farmers Market a few Saturdays ago. It was a cold and drizzly day - was that two weeks ago? Three? I finally picked up the chicken stock I needed today so when I got home this afternoon I got the soup going, put in a load of laundry and hunkered down with my new book. (Finally picked up Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which had been on my must-read list for a while.)

After the inevitable, and brief, nap that followed, the squash that had been simmering in a garlicky, oniony broth was the perfect tenderness to blend to perfection in mere moments with minimum mess using the immersion blender I inherited from Aunt Harriet. I wish the Girl Scouts could see me now.

Here's the recipe:

Butternut Squash Soup
Chef Scott Kelly, Saginaw Downtown Farmers Market

2-3 pounds butternut squash - peeled, seeded and chopped
1/2 C olive oil
6 cloves garlic - peeled and pinced
1 large onion
2 quarts vegetable or chicken stock
1/4 tsp dried thyme
Kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste

In a large stock pot heat the olive oil over medium heat. Sauté onion and garlic just until onions are translucent, taking care not to burn the garlic. Add the squash and stir to cover with oil-onion-garlic mixture. Add the stock and the thyme and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 30-45 minutes or until the squash is tender and cooked through. Very carefully purée (in a food processor or blender in batches and only after cooling!) or use an immersion blender. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired. Before serving, drizzle in some heavy cream or half and half for a richer flavor. I added a generous sprinkle of shaved Parmesan and ate my soup with crusty whole grain bread.

The potato man



Jim DeWyse - The Potato Man

 Yes, he really is called The Potato Man.

But his real name is Jim DeWyse and he's been in the potato business in these parts for 35 years, carrying on a family business started by his father.

I finally got up the nerve to ask Jim a few things one day when I went to the farmers market on my lunch hour. First of all, his name. And then, I wanted to know if I could buy all the potatoes and onions (he grows BEAUTIFUL onions, too) I thought I'd need for the next several months and store them properly so I wouldn't need to get them at the grocery store in the winter months.

I know this used to be done in the old days. But why is it that when I put my potatoes and onions in the pantry, the potatoes spoil and ooze all over and the onions grow giant sprouty things? What was I doing wrong?

Jim said I should put them in a cool, dry, dark place. Well, the pantry closet is dark but I guess in the summer months it's not very cool and probably not maintaining the right humidity level. It's definitely cool in the winter because it's not insulated. He also suggested putting them in a foam cooler. So maybe I'll try that. Please don't let me forget that I put a pile of potatoes on the counter in the basement kitchen because last year I forgot about the Hubbard squash down there and it EXPLODED all over.

I love it when the farmers tell me stories, and I definitely want to go back and have Jim tell me some more. I was fascinated listening to him and didn't want to be rudely jotting down notes in my little book while he was traveling down memory lane. But he told me that his dad used to deliver potatoes all around this area, directly to people's homes. Some of the ladies who bought the potatoes would greet his dad with freshly baked pies.

If someone delivered my potatoes, I'd do that.

A graceful exit

The kid's first off-campus abode. Summer 2010.

I've been lying, not laying, in bed (yes, Dad would be proud; even at the very end of his life when his caregivers would say, "We're going to lay you down now," he'd snap, "You will not lay me down! I am not a piece of paper!"

... where was I?

Oh, yes. Lying in bed. Not as in telling untruths, but reclining in a horizontal, supine state. And in this position, pondering.

I did a lot of that after my Christmas Break last year. Pondering. While supine.

Speaking of grace, did you know that Nancy means grace or full of grace? Wishful thinking on my parents' part, d'you imagine?

My point today, and I do have one, is that I have said a lot of goodbyes in my young life. Some, of course, were final. Or final for our time on Earth. Most, really, were the "see you later/until we meet again" sort. Because even when you think it's pretty much THE END or the very last time you'll see someone, I've been astonished to learn that lives that once intersected might do so again.

Even with all that experience at goodbye-ing, it's not something I've mastered. Hey! According to Wictionary, goodbye is from the Middle English godbwye - a contraction of God be with ye. I like that! Today I will say God be with ye to some people very dear to me. Some I've worked beside for a very long time and some only a few years or months or weeks.

Today I'll turn the last page of a 10-year-long chapter of my RayZooMay. End one era of my work life and prepare to begin another. I've muttered and mumbled and hinted at it for a long time, and now the day has come to make a graceful exit to my "what's next."

An apple (in) a day?

Recent trip to farmers market ... mmmm

Here's something I just don't understand:

I finally broke down and ordered myself a new laptop. Because the computer  from which I write my posts is getting old and creaky and slow ... even a few days after Scott-o came over to "optimize it" recently. It's been optimized a bunch the past few years, which has just been buying time. Literally. I'm thinking it will be a good repository for our photo archives but not much else.

Anyway, after many weeks of debating with my brain and my budget, I treated myself to a (little) Apple. I'm sure I ordered it the wrong way because right after I'd taken a deep breath and submitted my order on Sunday I saw that it would ship somewhere between Oct. 14 and Oct. 20. Wha???? How come when we order new computers at the office they come the actual NEXT DAY? So I called the nice people at Apple on Monday to see if it could be expedited and learned that for another $23 I could get "next day." Because once I finally decided to part with my dough and get something I want it RIGHT NOW. But then learned that was "next day" from when it was to ship. Which would probably be on Wednesday (yesterday) at the earliest.

I just got the "it shipped" notice and the tracking number. My new little friend is en route from China (Jake - look at the pretty bird! Look at the bunny in your garden!) and is estimated to arrive Oct. 19 by 4:30 p.m. Can someone please explain to me how eight days from the day I called is "next day"? Thanks.

Sincerely,

The Paragon of Patience

New kids on the block

The original Writers Block. ca 2005.

This is one of my favorite photos. It was taken at a work Christmas party 4 or 5 years ago. The composition of the Writers Block has changed since that celebration. And after this Friday, only one of the original members will remain. And it's not me.

I gave my notice last week and next Monday will begin a new job. Writing will be a big part of my new position because, well, that's what I do. But I'm excited to broaden my horizons and learn different things. Shiny things, for sure.

The new writers are seasoned professionals, so not exactly new "kids." I'm guessing none of them will do handstands in the hall. Or attach foil gum wrappers to project folders to attract the attention of certain people always seeking shiny things. Or do impressions of a cat hacking up a hairball. They surely have their own quirky writer traits and will add unique and memorable traditions and help create a fresh environment for the Writers Block.

I'm taking great memories with me. I've made lifelong friendships with some of my co-workers and I know these people will always be a part of my life. So that's it. My life-changing news. The continuation of the sentence I began in last Friday's post, if you didn't guess it already.

Super Snoozeday Tuesday



Tree man in Barcelona. March 2005.



 Daytime cold medicine to keep me alert and somewhat non-drippy by day. Night-time stuff to suppress coughs, sneezes and drips and help me sleep all night ... and right through my alarms.

Just call me Alice.

(Hope to be able to write about life-changing stuff later today. Tomorrow for sure.)

Okay bokay

Fragrant bouquet from farmers market. 2010.

Pretty funny how language evolves, isn't it? I always chuckle when I see bouquet spelled "bokay" on a florist's sign. My farmers market friend Maryiln gave me this pretty bunch of flowers and herbs last weekend and they're still pretty perky.

I do not have a single interesting thing to share today. Not yet anyway. I have a code id by dose and feel very poo-ish.

Oh! The walk was lovely yesterday. All my parts were sore toward the end, but it was lovely to spend the afternoon out in the fresh air. It took my mind off my dripping nose and the elephant sitting on my chest.

Well then. Happy Monday. Sneeze atcha later.

And we're walking ...

I'm walking in our community's CROP Walk today - a personal/family/church tradition for the last 15 years. CROP Hunger Walks raise awareness and funds for international relief and development, as well as local hunger-fighting agencies. Learn more about CROP, and sponsor a walker at http://www.cropwalkonline.org/ or e-mail me at nancy[dot]justwrite[at]gmail[dot]com to pledge your support.

Game day

Door to the kid's first apartment.
Love the happy color!

... the opening of another door.

But that's all I shall say about that now. Because today is Saturday!

And that means Imagonna go have breakfast with Lizz and do a bit of wandering in Ann Arbor and then head over to do some cooking with a friend.

OK, sports fans: What BIG game is playing in Ann Arbor today? Guess who had no idea it was TODAY until a couple of nights ago? Yep. That would be the sports-impaired alumna of the other school.

On the very best days, parking is a challenge in that lovely town. I'll be lucky to find a parking spot in Brighton, right?

A change of scenery

View from Writers' Block office. November 2009.

I have been looking out the same window at work for a little over nine years. I've watched the seasons change on the burning bush just out of view in this photo over on the left. It's a beautiful red right now but the leaves are starting to fall. Sabrina, the wandering Israelite on my desk, has really thrived in this location.

It has been a privileged perch for these many years - I can see people coming and going ... and I can watch the wildlife in the field just beyond the parking lot. When Gloria goes out to sit in her car during the day I wave at her. On warm and sunny days I've enviously watched the guy who does the landscaping, thinking I could do the edging and he could come in and try to think up a headline. I'm not sure why, but when someone gets flowers the flower delivery people often come to the back door so I get to be first to know. I usually like to be first to know stuff. Oh, just say it, Scott: Ann had her baby. I know, I know. How in the world can that baby be eight years old now? Where did the years go?

When the window washer people come, it's always a surprise and never convenient to move the clutter off my desk. I enjoy watching them squeegee my window and then I move all my papers and stuff out of dripping danger so they can do the inside. I think squeegie-ing windows would be kind of fun, too.

In any event, the view is going to change today, one of many adjustments being made to prepare for ...

Project Happy progress report

Banana in perfect state of ripeness. A happy thing.

Earlier this summer, Misty told me that if she came back in one year and I was still unhappy, she would punch me in the nose. So launched Project Happy. I didn't want to get punched in the nose.

It was not just Misty's threat, though, that got me really moving and tackling some of the things that were pressing down on me. Although I have no doubt she could deliver a mean left hook.

No, I attribute the progress to two other really important things: Prayer (my own and those from others) and actually making steps toward making some important changes.

What did Einstein say? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Something like that. I'm doing very different things and I'm seeing different results. Yay, science! Of course it's scary and exciting at the same time.

I have asked for God's help with overseeing the project - because I hear He's good at that. And then I've been trying to do my part. That's how it's supposed to work, right?

The universe is playing with my mind

An unexpected turn of events.

I know y'all think I am obsessed with this photo. But I think I know now what it was telling me.

Seriously, Universe. Scaring me.

I thought I was headed in one direction and chose another. A path that was completely unexpected.

Am I being oblique? Annoyingly cryptic? Simply annoying? Sorry. I have some big news but have to wait until the right time to broadcast it.

But I can HINT, right?

Secret of the monkey pants

Oh, there's no secret, really. (And though you can only see a peek of the pants here ... they're just like the top.)

My Nick 'n Nora sock monkey PJs that I bought for $6 on clearance at Tarjay a few years ago are my favorite attire for writing, reading, thinking and whatevering. The pants might have magic powers, because I sometimes think, do and say important things while wearing them that I might not otherwise.

I wish I could wear them all day today.

Especially today.

Toast to change

Derailment Porter. Up the Creek Brewery 2010 vintage.

I visited a writer friend and his family the other evening for "babies and beer." On these visits I'm treated to a bottle of the newest brew and then get to play with their adorable twin girls.

I was met at the door by screaming toddlers who screamed louder when I looked at them. Oh no! Didn't they remember I was fun Aunt Mancy?

It didn't take long, though, before we were making silly faces and playing games and reading stories. Phew.

Big changes are ahead this week. Salut!

Playin' wit da boys

Da boys on the field/court/rink/stage. October 2010.

I like it when Julie or DJ ask me to watch the boys. The asking usually starts with something like "The boys have been asking for their favorite great aunt EVERY NIGHT. They're crying because they miss you so much. It's so sad. We feel bad for them."

They got me with "the boys ..."

I know nothing about sports, but when I go over to watch/referee/supervise, I'm treated to hockey, basketball, football, baseball, golf and whatever else they're into at the moment. Last night was no exception.

Of course, I got to announce the players running onto the field and sing the National Anthem before the football game. That's my job. So glad I hadn't forgotten the words.

We also played with anti-gravity remote-control cars that can drive on the walls and ceiling. Cool!

Following playtime, they had a soothing lavender bubble bath and Sammy fell asleep on the sofa after sending me to find stories. So Ashton and I wrote a story about a crocodile who was very hungry and wanted to eat lots of worms.

The end.

I kin explain

Yeah. Just a sec. I'm in the middle of sumpin'.

I identified a need to maybe 'splain some things as I was taking a little trip down memory lane and reviewing old posts (recent and not-so-recent).

Like in this post, Edna did not turn me into a black woman. Just wanted to be perfectly clear because I see now that I was a bit rambly in my writing. I should probably not produce long drawn-out posts on Friday evenings when I've got a hankerin' to watch old Gilmore Girls episodes on DVD. But I did want to finish my story for those left hanging by my "to be continued" from the day before.

Since the functionality of this blog is limited by my own unsophisticated e-capabilities, I thought I could just address my seeming non sequiturs and any subsequent questions that arise here. If your question is not answered below, I kin explain. (Maybe.) Just ask in the comment section or e-mail me: nancy[dot]justwrite[at]gmail[dot]com. I'll keep a running list of 'splanations here until I can figure out how to make a new page on this here blog thing.

RULES / CAST OF CHARACTERS / RANDOMNESS

Chinese food. Should only be eaten on cold and/or rainy days. It is not warm weather food. It's just weird to eat Chinese food when it's warm and sunny out. Japanese food, Indian food and Thai food can be eaten in any weather, however.

Claudette. Faithful feline friend. Housemate. Holiday decorating consultant.

Edna. Fixes my hairs and dispenses hugs.

Farmers Market. I'm a junkie.

Guacamole. Party in a bowl. My recipe.

Handstands. Expression of joy/they make me happy. #s 13-19 on my list of 100. 

Imaginary friends. I had three. See them here.

Jake/Dr. Jake/John. Brother-in-law. Put up with my over-caffeinated gimpy self, fed me and chauffeured me around for two whole months after my Christmas break.

Lizz. aka Amazing Lizz. aka EM. My favorite gift. The college kid I aspire to be a little more like when/if I grow up.

Monkey pants. Favorite attire for writing, thinking, reading, cooking, Netflixing, whatevering. They may have magic powers.

Painting/home maintenance. Um, yeah ... moving on.

Paragon of Patience. Me, of course! What ... I'm not like a large, flawless diamond? A model of excellence and the embodiment of patience? Doesn't everyone think microwave popcorn takes way too long? Are we there yet?

Share/Sharon. Older sister by 14 years. Guardian angel. Knows all my secrets. Has a lot of experience taking care of me and rescuing me when I get into trouble. I've known her my entire life. Obviously.

Sneezing. If you sneeze, Claudette says, "enh enh enh enh enh" (God bless you).

Wrandom? Wrecent? Why? 

Just play anything

Zizzy and kids at the church yard sale, June 2010

Don't you just love how children will make ANYTHING into a game? Fancy toys are completely unnecessary. Just dump out a cooler of ice and ... it's an instant play-portunity!

Stomp on the chilly cubes and watch them crush into tiny bits and melt into the grass. Press your bare feet down and balance on the uneven surface ... rejoice in the fun of wobbling and the icy sensation that shoots up to your nose ... then laugh uncontrollably.

Love it.

Edna Part II: Playing with hair

The October theme for NaBloPoMo is Play. I'm gonna give this daily thing a shot again. I really want to do it in November so need some practice. I apologize in advance for the inevitable nonsense in store.

As I was saying yesterday, a few months ago, Edna wanted to try something new with my hair. I've long said that I'm hair impaired, so I was all for it.

I think she sort of explained her vision and I sort of listened and nodded. 

I have to have easy hair. Most of the time I run out of the house in the morning with a wet head. It's very professional, I know. Blow-drying my locks upside down is the extent of my styling efforts. I'm letting the gray creep in and refuse to color, which caused my last hairdresser great consternation.

Is anyone still there?

Now I have to tell you, Edna's own hair is usually a bit fancier than in this picture. She would want me to tell you that, I'm sure. I dropped in on her Wednesday at lunchtime because she wouldn't let me take her picture the other evening when I was in for a trim again. But Wednesday, she relented. So here she is in action. The lady in the chair has a beautiful smile but I think I caught her in a moment of deep concentration.

But back to a few months ago when Edna had been thinking of my hair all day. I just loved that! I told her that it reminded me of the day we met and she asked me what was UP with my brows. And I forgot to tell you that after that very first time I went to Edna's she called me the next day to see how I liked my cut. Well, I liked it just fine, and I also liked my new eyebrows very much, too.  And after my new do, Edna called again to make sure I was absolutely satisfied. Not only has it been super easy to take care of, I just love the thought and care that went into it. Clearly, I have needed someone to take care of my styling needs for a long time, so God sent me Edna. 

Now this is where it would be a good idea to show you the cute new do. But instead I'll show you the salon. It's very warm and cozy. There's even a little kitchen back there. 

I talked with Lizz last night and she apologized for being a selfish only kid and choosing to work on that day before she went to college. But we both agreed that it was a good thing because it helped me start to get used to my new life ... 

... and it gave me the opportunity to meet Edna.