Thursday, April 30, 2009
  T.H.E.C.P.

The CP and I like to note when we have things in common. Like the fact that we both like vanilla icing. Or if we are both wearing blue shirts. Stuff like that. Just the other day I discovered something new that we have in common, although I haven't pointed it out to him yet.

A newly made friend asked the CP his name. He replied "The CP. -T.H.E.C.P." He said his name and then immediately spelled it. All in one breath. I thought he was showing off a little bit. The new playmate was female, and slightly older to boot,and the CP does like to impress the ladies. The next day I accompanied him to the birthday party of a preschool friend. It was held at one of those fun centers where the kids can play games and eat pizza and you don't have to clean up anything. Genius! The center also supplied a party co-ordinator. She peered down at the CP from over her clipboard. "Name ?" she queried. He replied. "The CP. -T.H.E.C.P". He wasn't showing off. He was just trying to forestall the inevitable. It is, a case of preemptive spelling. I know it well. I do it all the time.

The CP's name is really only four letters long. Four simple letters. Just like mine. Something else we have in common. To me it seems simple enough. But I have had many many people ask me to repeat it when they hear it,or ask how to pronounce it if they see it written. And , you don't hear it much on this side of the Atlantic. He's no Tom Dick or Harry. Or Jason , Justin or Jeremy. About a year ago we took the CP to a show. The people behind us had a small child with the same name. As they settled into their seats, they used the name a few times. "CP sit down, CP don't touch that" and the like. Our CP, not knowing anyone else with his name kept answering. Finally frustrated by being corrected and directed by perfect strangers, he asked them why they kept calling him, It turned out that while the names sound the same, the other parents were using an Anglecized spelling, while the CP's parents kept the orinial Welsh.

I spell my first name often. Especially over the phone. Otherwise, I risk being called Doris. Yes , Doris. how one gets Doris from Star, I never will know. I have to confess that I have once or twice just gone with Doris because it was just easier. Years ago I was at the dentist, having my teeth cleaned, and chatting, as much as one can, with the hygienest. The new receptionist came in and said that Star was on the phone and needed to change her appointment. The hygienist pointed out that I was right there. The receptionist thought perhaps it was another Star. The hygienist said she was sure I as the only patient named Star who came to that office. The receptionist went back to the phone. When she returned she said it was her mistake. It was Doris who had to change her appointment. Even in reverse my name gets misconstrued.

And so we spell T.H.E.C.P. & me (S.T.A.R)




I


Friday, April 24, 2009
  Casting Call

The CP is a big fan of let's pretend. He always gets to assign the roles. Such as "Ill be the Policeman, and you be the Police woman Mom Mom". Or "I'll be Spiderman and you be Spider Girl". Yes, I am always assigned the girl part. Even if there is not a natural female counterpart to his male role, it is achieved by adding the word "girl" to the name. Such as Hulk-girl. We are working on that.
The other day he was here, presumably to help Sarcasdad put together his new BBQ grill. He brought along his own tool box. The actual helping lasted about 5 minutes. Then the CP busied himself with the large cardboard box and Styrofoam shipping pieces that had contained the grill. I sat on the front steps watching him play with his plastic tools and his new building materials. After a bit he decided to include me in the fun.
"Mrs Claus" he said. "I have some good news and some bad news"
See, still the female part for me. Don't you wonder what was going on in that cute little head prior to that statement? I do.


Monday, April 20, 2009
  Follow the Bouncing Ball

Today I went to a reading. It was billed as a meeting, but in reality it was not. A meeting is a gathering of people who have a common topic , or topics, to discuss. A give and take of information and ideas. What I attended today was a power point presentation, supplemented with a handout, which had all of the text of the power point presentation printed on it for me. So I sat while someone read to me, the words I am quite capable for reading for myself. A reading.
Normally I "delegate" these events to someone else, thereby allowing me to stay behind and get some actual work done. I wasn't able to weasle out of reassign today's task.

So I found myself sitting in a room on a folding chair surrounded by strangers. Each of us facing a white screen and balancing a handout on our laps. There was the usual period of adjustment as the people in charge realized they didn't know how any of the equipment worked and the laptop froze and six people ran over and tried to unfreeze it, and the only person in the building who knows where the switch to turn out the lights was located. The topic to be "discussed" was changes to the Pa. Women Infants and Children Program. We were instructed at the beginning of the presentation to hold all questions until the end. Of course, that didn't happen.

About halfway through the presenter went over a list of vegetables not permitted for purchase on the WIC program. On the list , white potatoes, including red bliss and yukon gold.Immediately there was a voice from the audience.
"Why does it say red bliss potatoes are not allowed if it is white potatoes that are not allowed?
The presenter explained that is was the color of the inside of the potato and not the skin that was white. And he moved on. But not too far.
Same Guy" Aren't all potatoes white inside?
Presenter : "Yams and sweet potatoes are allowed.Just not the white potatoes."
He changed the slide and we went to the allowable whole grains list.
Same Guy: "I thought potatoes were good for you"
Presenter: "White potatoes have little nutritional value" He clicked us on to allowable legumes. There was a brief respite from the potato guy, lulling us into a false sense of thinking this whole ordeal would soon be over. Then he spoke.
"What about mashed potatoes?"

How was your day?
Did I mention that I drove 45 miutes each way in the pouring rain?











Wednesday, April 15, 2009
  All You Zombies

Photobucket



The lovely Leanne has bestowed the honor of the Zombie Chicken Award on yours truly. My first thought ? "You like me, you really really like me". Of course, like all of you I blog merely for my own self expression and sense of accomplishment. Not for the accolades. That's why we have comment counters.

The Zombie Chicken Award means a great deal to me. First because it came to me from Leanne, one talented lady. And also because I have a soft spot for zombies.

From what I have read , failure to follow the rules of the Zombie Chicken can lead to bad blog karma.


The rules of the zombie chicken say…


The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken -
excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a
zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so
remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just
to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned
award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy
bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or
not choosing at all…”


So in order to appease the chicken and because I want to, I am passing the award on to 5 inspiring & entertaining bloggers.


Kenju always has something to share. A collection , ephemera, a quote or a joke. Mitey Mite is always on the go. Not even hurricanes can stop her. Melody has bravely traveled the world and let me tag along. Ally has faced a lot of challenges with strength and grace. And she amuses me with stories of chickens and bees. Moon has a wonderful spirit that shines through her words.


That was 5. But I also want to send it back to the very talented Leanne. Her amazing creativity shows in her art, her photos , and her words. Since she already has one, I don't think I am breaking any rules.

Each of you makes my little corner of the blog world a little brighter.


Okay, all you Zombies, show your faces.










Saturday, April 11, 2009
  Snapshots That Might Have Been

One of these days I'm going to get that photo. The one where you are just in the right place at the right time with a camera at the ready. And the light falls just right and you frame it perfectly. I see them on other people's blogs all the time. I know they are often prettied up a bit, but still they had the photo to start with.
Three times just this past week there were photos I wish I had snapped, but didn't.
On Tuesday I was leaving the dry cleaners which shares a parking lot with a car dealership. A maintenance person, small in stature and slight of build was holding the strings of about 2 dozen helium balloons in a red white and blue bouquet. The dealership puts them on cars on the lot every day. We were experiencing 50 to 60 mile an hour winds that day. Just as he hit the center of the lot, one of those gusts came roaring through. It took all of his strength to hold those balloons as the winds blew them perpendicular to the ground. It looked like a tug of war; man vs. balloons. I focused my iPhone camera on the sight, but wasn't sure how receptive the balloon man would be to having his picture taken by a stranger. So I didn't.
On Wednesday I was outside with the CP. He was riding his Harley Davidson style Hotcycle. He had a bike helmet covering his noggin and pinned to the back of his swearshirt was the 2008 Phillies Championship flag Sarcasdad got on opening night at the ballpark,which the CP was using as a cape. His legs were pumping hard, his head was down low over the Harley's handlebars, and the steady breeze, a remnant of Tuesday's gale force winds was causing the cape to stream out behind him as though he were flying. That picture will be in my head forever. But not on my Flickr page because I had no camera or phone with me.
On Thursday on a walk with a neighbor we passed an absolutely beautiful tree. We passed it four times because we were walking around the local high school track. The tree was in a yard across the street. It was big, and mighty oak-like. It was sporting a perfect crown of exquisite pink flowers. There wasn't even a breeze to stir the branches and it was showcased against the most beautiful clear blue sky. Every time we went around that corner I thought that when the walk was through and my neighbor and I parted ways I would go back and get a picture of that tree. Because you just got the feeling it had reached the peak of its perfection on that very day. But I didn't. I just forgot.
So I was hesitant, unprepared and forgetful. Hard to get a candid shot that way.


Sunday, April 05, 2009
  Vacancy

I have been so intently watching the tree outside my front window for signs of it's former tenant, that I totally missed the momma bird nesting in the other tree on my front lawn. I don't think this is a robin as I saw a bird with a white stripe under its tail land on the branch by the nest. And I saw no red breast. But I am far from an expert on birds. I won't be able to watch this nest from my seat on the sofa, but I am more than willing to get up to see the little ones when they hatch. Feeding time was really something to witness last year. Momma bird seemed to be worm hunting all the time, and the baby birds stayed out of sight until she showed up with a wriggly morsel. Then they would pop up with their little beaks wide open, clamoring to be the one who got fed. I don't know how she decided. I am hoping still that since the nest is still there, that robin might yet return to have another family this year. Maybe I should put a "vacancy" sign on it.
Another family I know is also waiting for a new baby. The CP is going to be a big brother. Not long after the momma birds take off for warmer climates.
I know there is a term for mothers who blog. What about grandmothers? Am I a grandmommyblogger? Or maybe a Mom-Momblogger?


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