Archive for the ‘humor’ Category

Isn’t It Ironic

Day 316…

Oxymorons.  Such a word struggle.  How better to “explain” something than by identifying its parameters.  But doesn’t that limit an idea by assuming it has identifiable endpoints?

I found an extensive list that was a lot of fun.  Or rather what I appreciate as fun. http://www.oxymoronlist.com

Imagine the possibilities with these:  acute apathy, consistently inconsistent, controlled chaos, creative destruction, expected serendipity, extremely average, false hope, fictional reality, foolproof instructions, final version, group of individuals, hopeful pessimist or hopelessly optimistic, holy war, instant folk hero, never again, one choice, persistent ambivalence, meaningful nonsense, more unique, non-toxic bug spray, least favorite, perfectly ridiculous, pleasantly confused, reckless caution,  single thought, somewhat awesome, twelve-ounce pound cake, usually spectacular, violent agreement, wise fool…

No wonder there’s so much misunderstanding…

Happy Fourth!!!  I will be celebrating the freedom of speech (another oxymoron, in my opinion.)

For today’s writing topic:  An oxymoron of your choice…

Nevermind

Day 292…

I honestly felt better after sending out my rant yesterday.  But my face was hot.  On a whim I took my temperature.  102.5  No wonder I felt lethargic and not very patient!!!  I’m sick.

Remember Roseanna Roseannadanna as a newscaster on Saturday Night Live.  After she would get all worked up about some item in the news, a production guy would step in and tell her she had misunderstood.

The only explanation she’d give is “Nevermind.”

Writing topic:  Misunderstood

What Is…

Day 273…

Last day for after school science…Earlier this week I could feel the end-of -school fever building.  What will we do that both the children and I can enjoy?

We’ll make pizza!!!

After everyone had washed their hands and checked out the ingredients on the table, each child had to tell the rest of us how pizza could be a “science lesson.”

Kindergarten boy:  You eat it.

Another kindergarten boy:  It has stuff.

Me:  Where do we get pepperoni?

First grade girl:  Squirrels?

Sixth grade boy:  Chemically altered, discarded cow parts.

Me:  Tell us more about how pizza can be a science lesson.

Third grade boy:  The digestive system.

Another third grade boy:  Yeah, then out the booty.

Fourth grader:  It’s a chemical change, no a physical change…I don’t know.  It changes.

Recipe:

Spread three spoons of pasta sauce on one side of a thin whole-grain sandwich round.  (I have used English muffins, but these things were on sale.  Do I need to tell you there was much discussion about whether the little round hard things were seeds or bugs?)  Add a handful of mozzarella cheese and finish with 4 pepperoni slices.  Toast in the toaster oven until cheese melts.  Enjoy…

Oh yeah, clean up your place at the table before you leave.

Writing topic:  Children and food

A Philosophy for Life

Day 271…

This is the quote I want to experience today…

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge – myth is more potent than history – dreams are more powerful than facts – hope always triumphs over experience – laughter is the cure for grief – love is stronger than death
 Robert Fulghum

Writing topic:  Reactions to these thoughts

The Eyes Have It

Day 213…

Last Sunday evening my brother and I were having an early supper at the local deli.  Two days earlier I found out that I have glaucoma, and because it runs in families I felt it was my sisterly duty to pass on the information.

I told him that I knew Mother had had it, and probably Dad, and that it is diagnosed by an opthamologist.  I gave him the name of mine.  I told him it’s not curable, but can be managed with drops.  I even told him that in certain cases marijuana is prescribed.

The whole time I’m delivering this all-important information my brother maintains eye contact from across the table.  But I am pretty sure the news is not connecting.

Two years ago my brother had viral encephalitis.  It affected the language area of his brain and he has trouble with words and meanings, especially when he’s tired.   So from my big sister wisdom I decided that maybe he was just tired.  I had overloaded him.  That’s OK.  I’ve introduced the concept.  I’ll just revisit the lesson again.  (That part’s from the teacher in me)

We finished our meal on other topics with free ice cream cones.

As we are walking to our cars, Buddy turns to me and says, “Now what was that thing in your eye?”

“Glaucoma.”

“Oh, I thought you said guacamole.”

Well, that explains the disconnect. 

On the way home I replay the one-sided conversation.  I have guacamole in my eye.  It took a special doctor to discover it.  Mother, and maybe Dad, had it too.  You can’t cure it.  You just put drops in your eyes for the rest of your life.  No wonder he was confused.

I will note, however, there was a small flicker of connection during my presentation.  It came when I said sometimes marijuana is used to treat it.

Writing topic:  Simple misunderstandings

One with the Dog

Day 210…

While sitting in the vet’s examining room this morning (we were only going to get a shot…yeah, right)I noticed a chart on the wall…your pet’s real age.  Lo and behold, Princess and I are the same age…a wee bit over 60…

Well, that could explain why we are so much alike. 

After she’s had a brisk walk through the park with me, we follow it up with some quiet time.  Hers takes the form of a nap; I like to call my time “processing.”

She’s picky about food, snubbing the vegetarian version for the one with a bit of meat shaped kibble along with the vegetables.  And she, too, has put on a little weight since her last visit.

She’s not particularly fond of cats, especially those that slink through the backyard.  I don’t mind them passing through, as long as they don’t stop too long at the birdfeeders.  I’m afraid it’s one of our control issues.

She lies across my lap every morning while I drink my first two cups of coffee and write morning pages, and I’m OK  with that as long as she lies still.  Then she follows me around the house while I’m getting ready for the day.  She’s learned how to keep from getting stepped on, and I’ve learned how to keep from tripping over her.

But her life is a bit less complicated.  All she has to remember is where the food, water and my bed are, and when she goes outside she needs to take care of her business if she wants a Milk Bone.  I, however, have a few more challenges. For example, as I’m typing this blog, the vet’s office clerk calls to tell me that my debit card was left on their counter.  Bummer. 

Writing topic:  Our pets

My Mother the Watch

Day 201…

Yesterday in my rush to get to an elementary school to visit three classrooms, I couldn’t find my watch (red, $10 @ Target.)  I tried the tricks I use when looking for misplaced items:  the more practical way of retracing my steps, the more imaginative trick of asking myself if I were a watch where would I be (otherwise known as be the watch) or my magical thinking idea of walking away and giving it time to reappear.

It was no use.  I couldn’t find the watch and I was running out of time, so  I grabbed the $10 black Target watch my mother had worn.  It actually matched my outfit better.  (Sounds like my mother’s words) This watch has a habit of suddenly stopping, then starting again sometime later.  Oh well.  At the moment it was working and only a few minutes off.  I strapped it on my wrist and dashed out the door.

Several hours later I’m back at home grading online assignments. I notice the black watch on my wrist has stopped.  I thump it a couple times.  Reset it, in case that will jiggle it back into running.  Nothing happens.  I wait, thinking it needs a little more time to remember what it’s supposed to be doing.  Still nothing.  I go back to my grading.

Last night at book club I look down at the black watch that is still on my arm.  The darn thing has started working again and it’s only a few minutes off.

So like my mom to still be challenging my need for control.

Writing topic:  Object lesson