Sunday, November 27, 2005

test

Your Personality Profile

You are pure, moral, and adaptable.
You tend to blend into your surroundings.
Shy on the outside, you're outspoken to your friends.

You believe that you live a virtuous life...
And you tend to judge others with a harsh eye.
As a result, people tend to crave your approval.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Fun!

Running with the idea, Steve..

Tag to anyone who reads!

This is how you play:

Do a Google image search of the following and post the first result for each:

The name of the town where you were born
The name of the town where you live now
Your name
Your grandmother'’s name (just pick one)
Your favorite food
Your favorite drink
Your favorite song
Your favorite smell



Town where I was born:
San Diego, California
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Town where I live:
Some city in Mississippi
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My first name:
Tanda
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My grandmother's name:
Audrey
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My favorite food:
Taquitos! MMmmmm...
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Favorite drink:
Cappucino
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Favorite song:
"World by a string"
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Favorite smell:
Peaches
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Your turn!!

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Thanksgiving.

Nana Blythe came early. Under her brown knitted cap lay her white tresses which curled like dozens of miniature spiral staircases. Her face was flushed pink from the frigid wind that was making it's seasonal visit. In her right hand she held a small wooden box painted sky blue with two dainty hinges on one side of the lid, and a small latch on the other. There was no lock and no key.

Johnny Blythe, all 80 lbs of him, stepped quickly down the staircase to the front door where his father was taking Nana's coat to hang on the coat rack. He had just woken from a good night's sleep where he had the most incredible dream that he was racing on a professional racing track on his dark mare. It was the most vivid dream he thought he had ever had. He could see the crowd in the stands, the cloud speckled sky, and the horses with which his mare was competing. The other jocks looked just like him, but Johnny was determined to win first place just the same. Just before crossing the finish line, Johnny woke to the sound of the front door's bell.

When Nana saw Johnny, her smile magnified and her wrinkled face transformed to pure sunshine. There was her little Johnny with chestnut brown hair, light brown eyes, and still in his locomotive pajamas. She opened her arms and bent over just enough to catch him with her hug. She heard him exclaim, "Nana!!" The joy in his voice made her forget about all of her physical ailments, financial struggles, and general frustrations. She melted into his love and he her's. Johnny released his Nana with an overwhelming curiosity about the little blue box she was carrying.

Father took Nana's coat to the coatrack and returned to see Nana opening her little blue box. He understood what the box was for already. He, too, had received a little blue box from his Grandmother as a small boy. As he stood back and watched, he saw Johnny peer into the box. Father knew that it was empty and watched with amusement as he saw Johnny's puzzled face.

"There's nothing here", he heard Johnny say.
"That's because you haven't put anything in it", father replied. Nana smiled her knowing smile and proceeded to explain the purpose of the box.

"Johnny", she began. "This is the 'Thanksgiving box'. I'm giving it to you on Thanksgiving day, but that doesn't mean that you only use it at Thanksgiving. Whenever you have a problem that you can't solve on your own and you begin to feel sad about it, you can write down something that you are thankful for and place it in this box. That way, when you feel like everything is wrong, you can open your thanksgiving box and see all the things that are right."

Father smiled as Johnny took the box from Nana. He could tell that Johnny was taking that very moment to find something to be thankful about just so he could use his new blue box.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

SOCK update.

I wanted to give everyone an update on The S.O.C.K Project this morning.

First, the Walmart here in town was kind enough to give me a gift card to purchase materials needed for the project. With their donation I was able to purchase enough for 82 dolls! I'm really grateful for their help, especially considering Christmas is almost here and I wanted to get the dolls out by that time.

Second, I haven't been able to obtain a sewing machine yet. I received a total of $45 in monetary donations (and am VERY appreciative to those who donated) toward the project but still cannot afford to buy one. Joe suggested that I contact the local fabric store and area churches to see if they would like to donate one for the project. And I'm going to do this on Monday because...

Third, I contacted the local paper who agreed to do an article on The S.O.C.K Project the week following Thanksgiving! Yeah! Hopefully that will draw people in to help me make more dolls before Christmas gets here. Cross your fingers for me. I'm a single soul here at this chapter, but I aim to change that!

Fourth, I received an email from a teacher in Missouri who teaches 5th grade who wants her class to make the dolls this season for the children's hospital in their city! She'll be providing me with pictures of her class when they complete their project and these pictures will be featured at the S.O.C.K Project website.

Fifth, and finally, I'm moving The S.O.C.K Project to a bigger website where I will be able to update information easier and at the same time be able to give more information on the project. You will always be able to get to the site from here (in the right column where you see J.J. waving!).

Thanks to all!!

Friday, November 18, 2005

Vicki

If you've not met Ms. Vicki yet, it's time to.

She has a new blog located here!!

Here's a quick excerpt from her new place, just so you can get a taste:

"I am slowly peeling the layers of an onion away and sharing more of myself with you as I remove these layers. Just don't forget the type of onion I am, a Sweet Vidalia Onion, yes that is right and we grow them right here where I live."

Go visit Vicki! She needs new company to break in her new pad!

Mystery

Here's a mystery for you to solve:

This morning I was driving our oldest to school. As I approached the school's drive, I saw a police car sitting on the side of the road behind another car. It looked, from afar, like he had pulled someone over.

But as we got closer I noted two things: first, the car in front of the patrolman had crashed into the utility pole that sat at its bumper; second, there was no one in it. The hood of the car was bowed up, it's windshield was cracked, and both airbags had been discharged.

There was no one at the scene except the policeman who sat quietly in his car. There was no one walking around the area except the mothers and fathers who walked their children to the school. There was no tow truck, ambulance, fire truck, or any other emergency vehicle save the police cruiser.

Your mission: try to answer why there was no one there except the policeman, and what happened to the people who were in the car that had crashed into the pole.

This message will self destruct in...no, I'm kidding. If I blew up this computer, my husband would disown me. Haha!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Johnny Blithe sucked in his bottom lip. He was fighting the tears, but they were winning. He kept his fists clenched and his knees locked. The harder he fought, though, the more he failed.

Steven, the neighborhood bully, grinned his evil grin as he pressed his heel harder into Johnny's foot. His evil grin penetrated Johnny's core and with final resolve Johnny brought his arm back and swung. Steven's nose exploded in a haze of red and Johnny felt instant relief as the weight of Steven's heel left his foot. Steven fell backward and landed on Mr's Hadley's lawn. Luckily she wasn't home and wouldn't call Johnny's mother to report the incident. Steven cried and Johnny stared in disbelief as the boy who he thought was impenetrable continued sobbing. He was certain that Steven cried more from shock than pain, but he wasn't staying around long enough to ask.

Johnny ran. His house was behind Mrs. Hadleys so all he had to do was pass the metal gate to her backyard and crawl over the five-foot fence that linked the two properties. He hoped that the back door was still unlocked as he bounded up the short stairway. To his relief, it was, but standing on the other side of the door was his father.

There was an awkward silence as Johnny's father realized that Johnny was trying hard not to cry in front of him. While trying not to embarass Johnny, his father quietly placed his hand on Johhny's little shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. That was all Johnny needed. He jumped into his father's arms and wailed until he couldn't anymore. Life finally started making sense.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Panda


SIGNS THAT YOU SUFFER "ROAD RAGE"


* For lack of a more effective weapon, you find yourself threatening other drivers with the cigarette lighter.

* You exchange your Uzi with laser sighting for a "more serious weapon."

* You've stopped wearing pants in the car to make it easier to moon tailgaters.

* Local Crips now have a hand signal for "Get Off The Road, That Psycho's Coming!"

* On your license, under "restrictions", it says, "Valium Required."

* That Yugo hood ornament on your 4X4 is not *actually* an ornament.

* The only thing that calms you down is your trusty Megadeth CD.

* The need to wring Dr. Laura Schlessinger's neck is just a bit more urgent than usual.

* You swear more before you get to work than most gangsta rappers do all day.

* You threaten to run over the person in front of you, even though you're in line for communion.

* The car's a year old, but you're already on your fifth horn.

* Your saw blades don't work, your voice is out of sync with your mouth, and Speed Racer has just beaten you in another race.

* You've traded your plastic statue of St. Christopher for one of A.C. Cowlings.

* You'd flash your brights at that slow dumbass Jacob ahead of you if your buggy only had headlights.

* You've plowed more pedestrians than Wilt Chamberlain.


(http://www.unwind.com/jokes-funnies/miscjokes/roadrage.shtml)
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Sign that you've run out of blog topics:
*You start posting top ten lists...(wink)

Saturday, November 12, 2005

My Neighbors

We live on a very busy street. There really isn't ever very much traffic because we're near the city limits, but there is almost always someone walking, jogging, skating, or riding a bicycle on our road. It's wide enough to accomodate both vehicles and pedestrians at the same time. Usually it's pretty quiet here. That's probably because the local police department spends plenty of time down here. When you're driving down our street you're more than likely to see at least one of the following people:

"DOT"-A forty-ish black woman who can be found doing a speedwalk/jog almost every day. She is always wearing black spandex pants with a black windbreaker. You can guarantee she'll be sporting her headphones and if you catch her at the right time you'll see her singing aloud. I always smile and wave at her as I'm passing but she's never acknowledged me. I suspect that she is so entraced with the music and is focusing to intently on her routine that outside interference is automatically denied her attention. Maybe one day I'll get a smile in return.

"JOHN"-An older black man, maybe in his fifties, that has shoulder length dreadlocks, mostly gray. I see him all the time walking to the gas station or back from it. He also walks his little boy to school every morning, although on occassion you will see his little boy sitting on his shoulders enjoying a ride to school instead. He's the opposite of "DOT". He is very alert to his surroundings and not only will he smile and wave at you as you're passing by, but he will act as if he was expecting to see you! I often smile when I see him because I know he'll be wearing his "hey, how are you?" grin.

"LIN"-She's an oriental woman who lives in the neighborhood. I've never seen anything of her except her face. Everything else is usually covered. She is always wearing a bonnet, a long sleeved shirt, slacks, and gloves over her hands. I speculate that she has a skin condition, but perhaps she is merely modest. She has her hands in her pockets most of the time and scarcely ever looks up from the road. She seems to be perpetually withdrawn but spends a lot of time walking our busy street. I've never seen her going in or out of any building (gas station, house, apartment). I don't have any idea where she came from or where she goes so she's an enigma to me.

Maybe one day if you come this way you'll meet them. :0)

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Haiku.

I was browsing a local message board when I found a thread about Haiku. Here is a definition for those not familiar: Haiku is one of the most important form of traditional japanese poetry. Haiku is, today, a 17-syllable verse form consisting of three metrical units of 5, 7, and 5 syllables.
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To write Haiku:

What to write about?
Haiku-poems can describe almost anything, but you seldom find themes which are too complicated for normal PEOPLE's recognition and understanding. Some of the most thrilling Haiku-poems describe daily situations in a way that gives the reader a brand new experience of a well-known situation.

The metrical pattern of Haiku
Haiku-poems consist of respectively 5, 7 and 5 syllables in three units. In japanese, this convention is a must, but in english, which has variation in the length of syllables, this can sometimes be difficult.

The technique of cutting
The cutting divides the Haiku into two parts, with a certain imaginative distance between the two sections, but the two sections must remain, to a degree, independent of each other. Both sections must enrich the understanding of the other.
To make this cutting in english, either the first or the second line ends normally with a colon, long dash or ellipsis.

The seasonal theme.
Each Haiku must contain a kigo, a season word, which indicate in which season the Haiku is set. For example, cherry blossoms indicate spring, snow indicate winter, and mosquitoes indicate summer, but the season word isn't always that obvious.
Please notice that Haiku-poems are written under different rules and in many languages. For translated Haiku-poems, the translator must decide whether he should obey the rules strictly, or if he should present the exact essence of the Haiku. For Haiku-poems originally written in english, the poet should be more careful. These are the difficulties, and the pleasure of Haiku.
Definition courtesy: http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/#whatishaiku

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Here are a couple that I've written:

Christmas is coming;
Credit card debt, vicious crowds
And kids thank Santa.

~~~~~~~

Rose red in my vase
It's dead in less than a week;
Beauty has it's price.

~~~~~~~

Dirty faces and
Loud noises which wake me up;
Beautiful angels.

~~~~~~~

Now, let's see what you've got!

Monday, November 07, 2005

Amy.

Thanks for hanging with me guys. Here's a funny family story...

Amy-

In the late 1990's we lived in the foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains in northern California. The population of people was dramatically outnumbered by pine trees. Not having a four-wheel drive automobile was a "no-no" on these steep roads and if you were caught in the winter without snow chains you were the joke of the town.

There were plenty of children in our neighborhood, all of whom had to walk up a very steep road to get to the bus stop. A morning treck to the bus stop is how we all met Amy.

Amy's family had just moved in. They were sort of an oddity. Amy was cute, sweet, and fun. But the longer you knew her, the more questions you had. She was awefully flighty and although her hair was red, we called her a "blonde". Her younger sister had a hairlip, which we were able to overlook because of her charming personality. But her older brother, Danny, was one strange duck. He used to jump into the thicket in our neighborhood and we wouldn't see him for hours. I guess he just really loved nature. He wasn't very good with people, and vice-versa, so I suppose that theory checks out.

My sister, Cheryl, and Amy became good friends. Cheryl would go to her house and they would listen to music, skate in the basement, and play dolls. Amy would come over to our house sometimes too. Everybody seemed okay with this. Except Cheryl's dog, Brownie.

One night Amy stayed over. The girls had a great time staying up late eating snacks and watching movies. I let them play in my room for a while, which they loved. My room was a loft that covered half of the girl's room. A short climb up the ladder and !voila!, you were there. They liked to go up and look over the edge at the room below.

In the morning Amy began packing up her things. A short search revealed that an article of her clothing was missing. So was the dog.

Cheryl and Amy left the house. Cheryl was going to walk her home and play for a while since she was already going to be up there. But when they go to the mailbox, they stopped short. There was a freshly dug hole near the post and a very dirty dog next to it. And in the hole was Amy's underwear.

We never looked at her quite the same after that.

Our family has this story filed away in the "Ohmygosh, do you remember when..." file.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Busy.

Well, my blog hasn't been much lately. Then again, neither has my brain.

I'm bouncing between sick kids, 2 school papers, an impending exam, housework, a newly started novel, and sanity.

While visiting all of my blogger friends is something that I really look forward to, I don't always have the time.

SO, if ya don't hear from me this week, that's why. But I do hope that everyone is well and that life in general is treating you all well!

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Candy




Reeses Peanut Butter Cups



Very popular, one of you is not enough.


Is it coincidence that this is my favorite candy? lol. What kind of candy are you?

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Scary Stuff.

We had a little scare last night.

At midnight I was getting ready for bed when our 3 year old stumbled into the hallway coughing like his lungs were about to turn inside out. We had noticed earlier that night that he was developing a cough, but this clearly was worse than our initial impression of his malady.

We sat him down in the livingroom and I handed him a towel to keep in his lap because he started vomiting a little. Joe stepped into the kitchen to get some cough syrup and I headed for the phone book to call the doctor. While I was looking for the number, however, I couldn't bring my eyes from his little chest. It was concaving and his breathing was loud and laborious. When Joe came back into the room I said, "look at his chest!" At first he didn't see it, but when he realized what was happening, he looked at me and said, "Hospital".

Joe helped me dress him and he took our little one outside to get some wet, cold air into his lungs. In the meanwhile, I grabbed a pair of jeans, a shirt, and slipped on my tennis shoes. No time for a jacket. I ran out the door with my purse and loaded him into his booster seat in the back of our Blazer. Joe stayed home to take care of our other two boys.

When we arrived at the hospital he still wasn't breathing right. His face was red from coughing and the nurses sent us back immediately, thinking he was having an asthma attack. I layed him on the ER bed and took off his jacket while they checked his oxygen level (which turned out to be normal). Then they sat and watched him breathe for about 5 minutes to figure out what was going on. After checking his chest and listening to his throat they determined that he had Croup, a common ailment for a child his age, and proceeded to give him a breathing treatment. I felt so bad for him, especially when they arrived to give him a steroid shot.

I held his hand as he was getting his treatment and when they were done his breathing was much quieter and his face finally returned to it's normal hue. I hugged him and heard myself saying over and over again, "I'm sorry". Maybe he said it because he was tired of hearing me repeat myself, but I heard him say, "It's okay. It's not your fault". I sobered up quickly. What three year old has ever said that?? lol.

Now that his breathing was under control we were both able to relax and started talking about interesting things that we saw and heard at the hospital. It was almost fun.

I called Joe to tell him our little boy was okay and a half-hour later we arrived home. Joe was waiting outside for us and we all went inside and crawled into bed. The rest of the evening went without event and we were able to get some sleep. Finally.

Oh, but what a night...