Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Singles :: Cheese

2. Blaze :: of Glory

3. Sandwich :: Skinny Girls Should Eat One

4. Outside :: Go play

5. Gooey :: Caramel

6. Industry :: Manufacturing

7. Exclusive :: Snooty

8. Warranty :: A document guaranteeing it will break one day after expiration.

9. Magical :: Kingdom

10. Heels :: North Carolina Tar


All I can say looking over this list is I really need to get some sleep.
Or eat a sandwich.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Singles :: Cheese

2. Blaze :: of Glory

3. Sandwich :: Skinny Girls Should Eat One

4. Outside :: Go play

5. Gooey :: Caramel

6. Industry :: Manufacturing

7. Exclusive :: Snooty

8. Warranty :: A document guaranteeing it will break one day after expiration.

9. Magical :: Kingdom

10. Heels :: North Carolina Tar


All I can say looking over this list is I really need to get some sleep.
Or eat a sandwich.

Sick of Sick

I consider myself very lucky that I rarely get sick. But when I do, there is a definite routine to the whole sickness game. In my world, sick doesn't mean bed and bedroom-ridden. Nope. Sick means move directly to the couch. Sick also requires the special pillow (still alive and kicking) one regular pillow and some sort of special blanket. Sadly, it is no longer THE special blanket, because I think that fell apart after several decades of use. Sick also requires the remote, the telephone (never outgoing -- always mid-day incoming how are you feeling?) a thermometer, a box of Kleenex (if necessary) and a wet washcloth, if I am feeling particularly 5-year-oldish.


Once established on the couch of sick with all necessary accouterments, the days are spent watching and sleeping through daytime TV while the sick runs its course. It's not very exciting, but then again, neither is the sick. It's just what I do to get by.


After a couple of days, though, I always feel like I've had enough. It's not because I suddenly and miraculously feel all better. Unfortunately, sick never seems to work that way. It's more like I'm tired of laying on the couch and watching horrid TV. The house feels stuffy and I feel skunky. It's also about this time that I decide that maybe I'll try to eat something. Not because I'm particularly hungry, but because you have to start somewhere, and somehow trying to eat something seems to be the thing to do.


After successfully eating a something or two, I usually decide it's time to get up and start moving again. And then, I'm faced with the aftermath of being sick. The house is a MESS. I am a MESS. There are dirty dishes in the kitchen, tissues in the living room, and a dishevelled pile of pillows and blankets. Sick is SICK, and it's right about now that I seriously consider taking to my bed so I don't have to face the detritus scattered across several rooms. Eventually, though, I have no choice, and it's time to get up, roll up my bed and walk, to quote the scriptures.


It usually takes me a little longer to clean up after the sick because I'm so tired. But it often feels good to take control of my house again. The dishes are washed and put away, the special pillow stowed for the time being, and nothing....nothing feels so good as a nice long shower. When all that is finally accomplished, even though I am still tired and weak, I know sick is on its way out the door. Good riddance. It's about time. I'm through with you.


This past Friday I spent the entire evening taking control of my house again. I started in the farthest corner of the kitchen and just started cleaning. Dishes were done. Refrigerator cleaned out. Floor swept. Cabinets and counters wiped down. I was tired, but it felt so good to gain control, inch by inch. Laundry was washed and folded and put away. The basement was returned (somewhat) to its former glory. Saturday began phase one of teenage-planned basement makeover. It's nothing too exciting at the moment, but we have two new lamps plugged into two new plugs! and a long story whose moral is: It is impossible to transport a new Papasan chair and cushion in a subcompact car unless your child is willing to wear the base of said chair around her head like a lampshade.

So, if you ask me how I'm doing right now, I'll probably say I'm OK. And sometimes it means I really am OK, and sometimes it means I'm not. But even if I feel tired and weak, what I really mean when I say I'm OK is that I'm tired of is being sick. I'm ready to get up and get moving. It's time to get up, get my house in order and take control. It's time to show sick the door. Good riddance. I'm through with you.

At least I hope I am.

Sick of Sick

I consider myself very lucky that I rarely get sick. But when I do, there is a definite routine to the whole sickness game. In my world, sick doesn't mean bed and bedroom-ridden. Nope. Sick means move directly to the couch. Sick also requires the special pillow (still alive and kicking) one regular pillow and some sort of special blanket. Sadly, it is no longer THE special blanket, because I think that fell apart after several decades of use. Sick also requires the remote, the telephone (never outgoing -- always mid-day incoming how are you feeling?) a thermometer, a box of Kleenex (if necessary) and a wet washcloth, if I am feeling particularly 5-year-oldish.


Once established on the couch of sick with all necessary accouterments, the days are spent watching and sleeping through daytime TV while the sick runs its course. It's not very exciting, but then again, neither is the sick. It's just what I do to get by.


After a couple of days, though, I always feel like I've had enough. It's not because I suddenly and miraculously feel all better. Unfortunately, sick never seems to work that way. It's more like I'm tired of laying on the couch and watching horrid TV. The house feels stuffy and I feel skunky. It's also about this time that I decide that maybe I'll try to eat something. Not because I'm particularly hungry, but because you have to start somewhere, and somehow trying to eat something seems to be the thing to do.


After successfully eating a something or two, I usually decide it's time to get up and start moving again. And then, I'm faced with the aftermath of being sick. The house is a MESS. I am a MESS. There are dirty dishes in the kitchen, tissues in the living room, and a dishevelled pile of pillows and blankets. Sick is SICK, and it's right about now that I seriously consider taking to my bed so I don't have to face the detritus scattered across several rooms. Eventually, though, I have no choice, and it's time to get up, roll up my bed and walk, to quote the scriptures.


It usually takes me a little longer to clean up after the sick because I'm so tired. But it often feels good to take control of my house again. The dishes are washed and put away, the special pillow stowed for the time being, and nothing....nothing feels so good as a nice long shower. When all that is finally accomplished, even though I am still tired and weak, I know sick is on its way out the door. Good riddance. It's about time. I'm through with you.


This past Friday I spent the entire evening taking control of my house again. I started in the farthest corner of the kitchen and just started cleaning. Dishes were done. Refrigerator cleaned out. Floor swept. Cabinets and counters wiped down. I was tired, but it felt so good to gain control, inch by inch. Laundry was washed and folded and put away. The basement was returned (somewhat) to its former glory. Saturday began phase one of teenage-planned basement makeover. It's nothing too exciting at the moment, but we have two new lamps plugged into two new plugs! and a long story whose moral is: It is impossible to transport a new Papasan chair and cushion in a subcompact car unless your child is willing to wear the base of said chair around her head like a lampshade.

So, if you ask me how I'm doing right now, I'll probably say I'm OK. And sometimes it means I really am OK, and sometimes it means I'm not. But even if I feel tired and weak, what I really mean when I say I'm OK is that I'm tired of is being sick. I'm ready to get up and get moving. It's time to get up, get my house in order and take control. It's time to show sick the door. Good riddance. I'm through with you.

At least I hope I am.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about GREENTUNA

Thirteen Cross Stitch Projects I Will NOT Be Undertaking
Any Time Soon Ever



1. "Miracle" (Horses)
First of all, this picture must use 27 shades of white, gray and brown. That's not enjoyment. That's an aneurysm on 32-count linen. Secondly, despite the fact that they have called this gem "Miracle" I'm not sure where the Miracle actually is. When you have a picture of Siamese Horse Heads, shouldn't it be entitled "Freak of Nature?" Sorry, I'll pass on this one. But if someone comes up with a cross stitch picture for a three-eyed fish, I'd be all for it.



2. "Lucky in Bloom"

An unoffensive flower in bold primary colors isn't bad. But cross-stitching "Lucky's cat's butt popping out of the top? Thanks, but no.

3. "Moose Be Born to Ride"

Now, I understand that lots of people take up crafting for lots of reasons. I also understand that lots of people have a wide variety of interests. But I'm thinking the demographics of people obsessed with both motorcycles and Mooses (mooses? moose? Bullwinkles?) has to be pretty narrow. And where would you hang this finished project? The Elk Club?

4. "Beneath Shining Stars"

The problem here isn't the picture. It's fine, if not overly simple (which can be a good thing when you need Christmas gifts PRONTO). What kills me here are the buttons. If I'm not entirely mistaken, the Joseph button on the left is the spitting image of Cartman, and I would never be able to look at this picture without cracking up and singing the South Park version of "Oh Holy Night.

5. "Mend"

Here's an annoying picture that they try to pretty up with some cute bunnies and flowers. Why do I need to spend a couple hours of my time on a pillow that is bugging me to do chores? What do you bet there are several pillows in this series, including "IRON" and "DO SOME DISHES BECAUSE YOU'RE OUT OF FORKS AGAIN." Thanks, I'll pass.

6. "Hang Ten"

Nice try, but I see how you are. It doesn't matter if you dress it up with palm trees, waves, sand and a surfboard, this is still LAUNDRY. I'm not falling for your crafty tricks.

7. "Of Female Arts"

Yeah, because all we can do is sew. I'll just let this ditty speak for itself with my implied Burma-Shave-esque coda: "Bite me."

Of female arts in usefulness
The needle far exceeds the rest
In ornament there's no device
Affords adorning half so nice.




8. "Road Trip"

Ah yes, another winner as we sew a picture of a car pulling a camper. Alas, the weary travelers are lost because the only road they were given goes around in circles. I bet they get really angry every time they reach that button in the middle of Crack Avenue and the dad refuses to ask for directions. Good times.

9. "Summer Maggie Butts"

First of all, I don't get the title at all. Summer, yes. But If Maggie has a butt at all, she must have left it at home. In fact, it's a freak of nature that the turtle floaty device is able to stay on her body when she has no discernible hips. Be that as it may, "Maggie" must be a nickname for "Medusa" because woah, she's got some snake hair going on. And why does she look so demoniacally happy as attacks that poor mouse with pepper spray?

10. "Galatea"Now, TeenTuna would love this picture. In fact, I think she saw it and she did love it, because it's very mermaidy, oceany, pinky pretty. And on general principals, I don't really have anything against mermaids. Except this one. This mermaid has the most defined butt-cleavage I've ever seen. How many butt presses does she do a day to achieve such form outlined in dark blue. Sorry, even if you are a mythical creature, if your butt looks better than mine, this picture is out.



11. "Peaceful Paradise"
When I was grabbing these pictures, I named this one "wholebunchawords" because seriously, what does it say? Who knows. It might be the entire old testament. It might be a recipe for Tree of Knowledge Pie. It might be directions to button land for that camper above. Whatever it is, it's too much and it's totally illegible. I'm not really up to cross-stitching a novel.



"Mehitable Frisbee"Ahh, the traditional death picture. Honestly, looking at some of the samplers from the mid-1800's it's a wonder anybody ever got out of bed, because all that was going to happen was that they were going to die. Many samplers admonished the viewer to "remember me" or "think upon me when upon this cloth you see" in a very YOU'RE NEXT kind of way. I've never seen a sampler go quite to this extreme, however, what with all the discussion of worms and such. Then again, if my name was "Mehitable Frisbee" I might not mind being a worm sandwich sooner rather than later.


Taco SamplerI've said it before and I'll say it again. The day I start cross-stitching tacos is the day I need to find a better hobby.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about GREENTUNA

Thirteen Cross Stitch Projects I Will NOT Be Undertaking
Any Time Soon Ever



1. "Miracle" (Horses)
First of all, this picture must use 27 shades of white, gray and brown. That's not enjoyment. That's an aneurysm on 32-count linen. Secondly, despite the fact that they have called this gem "Miracle" I'm not sure where the Miracle actually is. When you have a picture of Siamese Horse Heads, shouldn't it be entitled "Freak of Nature?" Sorry, I'll pass on this one. But if someone comes up with a cross stitch picture for a three-eyed fish, I'd be all for it.



2. "Lucky in Bloom"

An unoffensive flower in bold primary colors isn't bad. But cross-stitching "Lucky's cat's butt popping out of the top? Thanks, but no.

3. "Moose Be Born to Ride"

Now, I understand that lots of people take up crafting for lots of reasons. I also understand that lots of people have a wide variety of interests. But I'm thinking the demographics of people obsessed with both motorcycles and Mooses (mooses? moose? Bullwinkles?) has to be pretty narrow. And where would you hang this finished project? The Elk Club?

4. "Beneath Shining Stars"

The problem here isn't the picture. It's fine, if not overly simple (which can be a good thing when you need Christmas gifts PRONTO). What kills me here are the buttons. If I'm not entirely mistaken, the Joseph button on the left is the spitting image of Cartman, and I would never be able to look at this picture without cracking up and singing the South Park version of "Oh Holy Night.

5. "Mend"

Here's an annoying picture that they try to pretty up with some cute bunnies and flowers. Why do I need to spend a couple hours of my time on a pillow that is bugging me to do chores? What do you bet there are several pillows in this series, including "IRON" and "DO SOME DISHES BECAUSE YOU'RE OUT OF FORKS AGAIN." Thanks, I'll pass.

6. "Hang Ten"

Nice try, but I see how you are. It doesn't matter if you dress it up with palm trees, waves, sand and a surfboard, this is still LAUNDRY. I'm not falling for your crafty tricks.

7. "Of Female Arts"

Yeah, because all we can do is sew. I'll just let this ditty speak for itself with my implied Burma-Shave-esque coda: "Bite me."

Of female arts in usefulness
The needle far exceeds the rest
In ornament there's no device
Affords adorning half so nice.




8. "Road Trip"

Ah yes, another winner as we sew a picture of a car pulling a camper. Alas, the weary travelers are lost because the only road they were given goes around in circles. I bet they get really angry every time they reach that button in the middle of Crack Avenue and the dad refuses to ask for directions. Good times.

9. "Summer Maggie Butts"

First of all, I don't get the title at all. Summer, yes. But If Maggie has a butt at all, she must have left it at home. In fact, it's a freak of nature that the turtle floaty device is able to stay on her body when she has no discernible hips. Be that as it may, "Maggie" must be a nickname for "Medusa" because woah, she's got some snake hair going on. And why does she look so demoniacally happy as attacks that poor mouse with pepper spray?

10. "Galatea"Now, TeenTuna would love this picture. In fact, I think she saw it and she did love it, because it's very mermaidy, oceany, pinky pretty. And on general principals, I don't really have anything against mermaids. Except this one. This mermaid has the most defined butt-cleavage I've ever seen. How many butt presses does she do a day to achieve such form outlined in dark blue. Sorry, even if you are a mythical creature, if your butt looks better than mine, this picture is out.



11. "Peaceful Paradise"
When I was grabbing these pictures, I named this one "wholebunchawords" because seriously, what does it say? Who knows. It might be the entire old testament. It might be a recipe for Tree of Knowledge Pie. It might be directions to button land for that camper above. Whatever it is, it's too much and it's totally illegible. I'm not really up to cross-stitching a novel.



"Mehitable Frisbee"Ahh, the traditional death picture. Honestly, looking at some of the samplers from the mid-1800's it's a wonder anybody ever got out of bed, because all that was going to happen was that they were going to die. Many samplers admonished the viewer to "remember me" or "think upon me when upon this cloth you see" in a very YOU'RE NEXT kind of way. I've never seen a sampler go quite to this extreme, however, what with all the discussion of worms and such. Then again, if my name was "Mehitable Frisbee" I might not mind being a worm sandwich sooner rather than later.


Taco SamplerI've said it before and I'll say it again. The day I start cross-stitching tacos is the day I need to find a better hobby.

Arrrgh!

This one be for TeenTuna

Arrrgh!

This one be for TeenTuna

Arrrgh!

I would like a muffin.

Arrrgh!

I would like a muffin.

Arrrgh! Cluck!

Arrrgh! Cluck!

Arrrgh!

You are The Cap'n!
Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scalawag who stands between them and unlimited power. You never met a man - or woman - you couldn't eviscerate. You are the definitive Man of Action, the CEO of the Seven Seas, Lee Iacocca in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You’re mission-oriented, and if anyone gets in the way, that’s his problem, now isn’t? Your buckle was swashed long ago and you have never been so sure of anything as your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off his head if he shows any sign of taking you on or backing down. If one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

Arrrgh!

You are The Cap'n!
Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scalawag who stands between them and unlimited power. You never met a man - or woman - you couldn't eviscerate. You are the definitive Man of Action, the CEO of the Seven Seas, Lee Iacocca in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You’re mission-oriented, and if anyone gets in the way, that’s his problem, now isn’t? Your buckle was swashed long ago and you have never been so sure of anything as your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off his head if he shows any sign of taking you on or backing down. If one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

It's Just So Frustrating!

If this doesn't sum up the season known as Big Brother 8, I don't know what does. Two more days, folks. That's all....

It's Just So Frustrating!

If this doesn't sum up the season known as Big Brother 8, I don't know what does. Two more days, folks. That's all....

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Rita :: Meter Maid

2. Comedy :: Tonight

3. Polar :: Bear

4. Idiots :: Epidemic

5. Perception :: Often flawed

6. Infected :: Sick

7. Fake :: Insecure

8. Relating :: Empathizing

9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music

10. Gamble :: Risk

Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Rita :: Meter Maid

2. Comedy :: Tonight

3. Polar :: Bear

4. Idiots :: Epidemic

5. Perception :: Often flawed

6. Infected :: Sick

7. Fake :: Insecure

8. Relating :: Empathizing

9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music

10. Gamble :: Risk

Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.

Power, Strength, Potential

This was from a 2006 The Blue Voice blog post. Sadly I cannot find the original page now, but I have the poem in its entirety in my inbox.

I spent my whole life
waiting for God to send me a invitation
while I ignored God who lived next door
I thought that God was out there
and not in here
I never knew that God had given us tools
to create heaven on Earth,
powerful tools like compassion, understanding,
humility and solidarity.
I never knew that God lived at the bus stop
or in a taxi cab
or in the kindness of a stranger on the street
or in the 7-11
I didn't know that God whispered to me
when I read about places like Darfur
and didn't realize that my prayers were ignored
because I had the power to answer them on my own.

This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'

I have a choice, the same choice that faces every man. I can live a frivolous life, trying to impress others with the house I live in, the clothes I wear, the car I drive. I can strive to be a success in the way of the world, seeking the admiration of others, reveling in their jealousy. I can seek domination over my family and fellow workers in a vain attempt to hide my own deficiencies. I can seek fame, which is the most elusive pursuit of all, for it has no substance and soon vanishes in the air.

I can indulge in endless prattle about my friends and neighbors, dissipating my life's energy a little at a time. I can wallow in self-pity, refusing to accept responsibility for my own circumstances. I can manipulate others into taking care of me, which is the way of all petty tyrants. I can complain about boredom, as if it were up to those around me to inject excitement into my day.

These are the patterns of the living dead, people who have forsaken life, who are willing to squander their most precious gift, because they refuse to face up to the reality of death. If they wanted to live, truly wanted to live, they would rise up in a resurrection of their own making and commit themselves to the life they have.

One definition of humanity is
the quality of being humane.

One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion

And yet the definition of human is

a bipedal primate mammal

We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.

Power, Strength, Potential

This was from a 2006 The Blue Voice blog post. Sadly I cannot find the original page now, but I have the poem in its entirety in my inbox.

I spent my whole life
waiting for God to send me a invitation
while I ignored God who lived next door
I thought that God was out there
and not in here
I never knew that God had given us tools
to create heaven on Earth,
powerful tools like compassion, understanding,
humility and solidarity.
I never knew that God lived at the bus stop
or in a taxi cab
or in the kindness of a stranger on the street
or in the 7-11
I didn't know that God whispered to me
when I read about places like Darfur
and didn't realize that my prayers were ignored
because I had the power to answer them on my own.

This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'

I have a choice, the same choice that faces every man. I can live a frivolous life, trying to impress others with the house I live in, the clothes I wear, the car I drive. I can strive to be a success in the way of the world, seeking the admiration of others, reveling in their jealousy. I can seek domination over my family and fellow workers in a vain attempt to hide my own deficiencies. I can seek fame, which is the most elusive pursuit of all, for it has no substance and soon vanishes in the air.

I can indulge in endless prattle about my friends and neighbors, dissipating my life's energy a little at a time. I can wallow in self-pity, refusing to accept responsibility for my own circumstances. I can manipulate others into taking care of me, which is the way of all petty tyrants. I can complain about boredom, as if it were up to those around me to inject excitement into my day.

These are the patterns of the living dead, people who have forsaken life, who are willing to squander their most precious gift, because they refuse to face up to the reality of death. If they wanted to live, truly wanted to live, they would rise up in a resurrection of their own making and commit themselves to the life they have.

One definition of humanity is
the quality of being humane.

One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion

And yet the definition of human is

a bipedal primate mammal

We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.