Monday, August 23, 2010

WILD THING ON #5 OR THIS? OR BOTH?

Awarded for
Excellence in newspaper journalism, literary achievements, and musical composition
Presented by
Columbia University
Country
United States
First awarded
1917

The Pulitzer Prize (pronounced /ˈpʊlɨtsər/) is a U.S. award for achievements in newspaper and online journalism, literature and musical composition. It was established by Hungarian-American publisher Joseph Pulitzer and is administered by Columbia University in New York City. According to the administrators of the Pulitzer Prize the correct pronunciation of the name should sound like the verb pull, as in "Pull it, sir"[1]

The other day, golf buddy and I were chatting on the way to the Par 3 Course to golf 18 holes in the dark and got on the subject of the HPO. He commented that it was good enough to win some kind of award and suggested that I look into a nomination.

I told him that I had already looked into the Pulitzer and downloaded all necessary forms just waiting for the February deadline.

Ha...his face said it all...and then he said..."well, maybe you could begin with something smaller."

Well...I will do that too and while I'm thinking about NOT whoa-ing myself back...how about meeting me on #5 sometime next week?

Thursday, August 19, 2010

#5...LOOKOUT FOR ME

What seems like a very long time ago...my dream was to do the wild thing on #5...this would include a waning crescent moon, a bottle of wine, and of course my golf buddy....



but I gave up on that dream a long time ago and now I would be so happy if that wild thing dream included an eagle chip and a can that is so cold the mountains are blue!

It could so happen.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

THAT'S RIGHT ICE MAN...I'M DANGEROUS

Ok.

Nearly 20 years have come and gone and I think I can finally (face) tell the truth.

My cable was cut off due to non-payment.

I told my children and the world that I chose to not have cable because I was tired of my developing brains being bombarded with trash.

The truth is..I really was…but the other truth is that when they came and turned it off it was rather obvious that we could not afford cable and ok…sometimes gas and water.

Instead of being honest, I was an enabler.

And the person that I enabled has been gone somewhere else for a long enough time that he might even find this funny. And I am no longer an enabler with secrets to keep. In fact…I used cable as a bribe for them to live with me…so that falls under some other kind of unacceptable category…like manipulation.

But for 4 years, we had no television except for movies.

My son never knew who OJ Simpson was or that he killed his wife and then led the police on a chase in his white Ford Bronco…but he could recite from memory practically every word from Top Gun because he watched it 4598 times. And this same talent is quite extraordinary when you consider that Lonesome Dove is almost 13 hours long.

I am not angry anymore that we had no air conditioner for 2 years, cable for 4 years, and intermittent episodes of sudden power outages. And I must admit that I kind of admire a person who can golf right after lunch every single day and never let the mundane things of life get in the way of which club to use when the breeze is out of the north.

And I do find it very funny when out of the clear blue sky, my now 26 year old (with a very developed brain I might add)…quips to me….Ace...Ven..tura…Pet.. De..tec..tive.

And that I am able to reply "What do you know about Ray Finkle?"

Sunday, August 15, 2010

TYPE FASTER WITH FEWER ERRORS


whatever....

texting is not for me.

I am a: too old b: too blind c: have too large fingers

My sister: your texting was hysterical last night...were you drunk?
Me: well...I had a glass of wine, but no...not really.
My sister: go back and read your texts...I'm still laughing.

Texts:

Me: Hey...lokeo at m i'm testing
My sister: Hey...what are you doing?
Me: sit by ter phoend with my perps
My sister: Are you drunk?
Me: no..buttocks it's dare and i carmel get used to this lit keyoboard
My sister: doesn't your screen light up?
Me: yes, bill biggest preolem is the it fills in mywords and i can't seem to tll if I have secreted tie right word or no.

and d: perhaps I am a drunk texter
ok...so I could be...but let's not let the day pass without acknowledgement of my bff...gustiest blonde I ever knew...
If I am the typinator....she is the first woman I have ever known to be the only female in a fantasy football league...and her name might be...could be.... The Vaginator...unless she whoas herself back. I am going to enter her into my droid with a capital "V"

Get back Helen Reddy.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

YOU ARE WHO YOU WERE WHEN YOU WERE 8


(Written August 2007)
I’m not sure where I first came across the quote, "you are who you were when you were eight", but it has always been one of my favorite truisms, and now one that I have been able to measure in a most significant way.

Baby Calvert, due on August 18, but ready a smidge early. The events of the day for August 13, 2007, included a 7:00 P.M. check in time at Baptist Saint Anthony’s Hospital. One final night of anticipation before the big event MIGHT occur.

In today, out tomorrow. We arrived at the hospital way past everyone’s bedtime to find Grace quiet, happy spirited, and ready to see what Tuesday would hold.

Tuesday’s Child is full of Grace…only today, Grace is full of Tuesday’s Child.

We thought the events of this day could well carry on for hours and into the night as most first births customarily do. But the look on the nurse’s face suggests a different story. Every time she comes in something new has happened.

Start the drip, break the water, move the bed downward and let gravity help, bring the incubator out of the closet, call the Doctor during his lunch, plug in the incubator, make a call to the nurse’s station to announce a birth is imminent, Doctor arrives and has a rushed surprised look on his face, ready to push…he teases that Grace is doing so good that he will call this the "Grace Technique."

As I quietly wait on my "mother’s perch", I am fascinated by the miracle that is unfolding before my eyes. I have done this before…3 times, but the fourth I am in awe. I have fallen in love….no, not with the emerging head that represents a new life that is about to enter our world, but with my little Grace…all over again. I have never been so proud of her in all my life. She is polite, focused, determined, and gracious.

I’ve seen that look before…at a track meet, eight years old, standing on the starting line of the 50-yard dash, ready, set, go. Red face, squinty eyes, clenched jaws, huffing, puffing-- in the race of her life as she exerts 100% effort to reach the finish line.

I loved her since the moment I felt her move inside me, but the day I saw her on the track, I realized she inspired me and that I wanted to be just like her. During her lifetime, I have felt that way many times, and especially today.

100% unbridled effort to accomplish the task at hand…ready, set, go…red face, squinty eyes, clenched jaws, huffing and puffing…and then Little Miss Betty Beatrice Calvert…one minute old.

You are who you were when you were eight. And my little bumblebee, we will have such fun discovering all that you will become. I think if we are lucky, you shall be just like your mother. Love, Poppy

And three years later? Well three years later...it's as if I have your mother all over again.

I am one lucky mama! Happy Birthday my little Betty

Friday, August 13, 2010

NAPKIN PLACED GENTLY IN THE LAP


When you visit a foreign country and discover that the table cloth EXACTLY matches your shirt (actually your husband's shirt)...I guess the only thing really to do is accept that there must have been quite a good bargain on that particular fabric and go on down the road hoping no one will notice that you blend in with the table.

I'M A NICE WITCH

I picked Princess Betty up from the babysitter yesterday and on the drive home we began to discuss the castle that Daddy B and Poppy are going to buy.

I drove her by to show her the house and when I called it a house, she corrected me and said
"It's a castle Poppy." So began our discussion of her being a princess, B being Prince Charming...it goes a little like this...

Betty: Poppy, YOU be the witch in the fire.
Me: No Betty, I don't want to be a witch..witches are mean and I'm nice.
I want to be a queen.
Betty: Is B going to be the Prince? Is he going to be Prince Charming? Will he wear a red cape?

Uncle Charles interrupts us with a call.

Betty: Can Charles be a prince too?
Me: Yes..we will have Princess Grace, Princess Beatrice, Princess Betty, and Prince Charles.
Betty: And Prince Charming with a Red Cape?
Me: Of course

Betty: Will YOU be the witch in the fire Poppy?
Me: Ohhhh Kaayyyy. But I'm going to be a nice witch.
Betty: Will you have apples Poppy?

I think we will be having this conversation for a very long time.