Friday, December 31, 2010

One Last Gift to Open!

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011!




Christmas 2010 is a memory, but there is yet one gift to open.  2011 stands before us, 365 days waiting to be unwrapped.  Just like a colorful box under the Christmas tree, each day holds within it the unexpected; what we do with the contents is our choice. Make each day count!

Thank you to everyone who reads my blog. I appreciate the time you take to read and leave thoughtful comments. I've connected with so many wonderful people and fine writers this year. I can't wait to see what I'll unwrap in 2011!


Wishing each of you a healthy, happy and prosperous 2011!

See you next year -
Lisa

Clip art courtesy of Webweaver.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Birdbrained Tales of Microfiction Monday!

A malfunctioning internet server caused me to miss Microfiction Monday last week, a circumstance I lamented in a limerick a few posts back (scroll down to take a gander).  I'm back for my fix this week and offer my usual thanks to Susan at Stony River for hosting this tidbit of weekly fun. Below are my two stories to match the picture, each 140 characters or less.



I spied them against the backdrop of the sea, 
together facing the bitter wind. 
That was us, 'ere you spread your wings and 
flew away.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Inspector Pigeon," said Detective Byrd. 
"The victim was dining on seafood, but he was a sitting duck. 
Murdered for a measly fifty clams."


I hope everyone enjoyed a wonderful Christmas weekend, blessed with family and friends!

Looking forward to 2011-
Lisa

Friday, December 24, 2010

Not From a Store. . .So Much More!

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more. ~ Dr. Seuss


Christmas Eve at last! Even if you do not recognize Christmas as a religious holiday, I encourage you to join those of us who do for a celebration of joyful giving and appreciation for those we love and who love us in return. More than any other sentiment, it is abounding love that Christmas celebrates.

May we all share in that blessing!

Merry Christmas!
Lisa


Clip art courtesy of Webweaver.
The Grinch courtesy of Cinema.com.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Back Online Limerick and Wine. . .er, Whine

Clip art courtesy of Hasslefreeclipart.com

On Friday the unthinkable happened. My internet server, Bellsouth, experienced an extended outage and  internet access became impossible for---gulp!---four solid days. I could access neither my blog, email accounts nor Facebook. Due to appointments and such, a visit to the library or a friend's house to borrow a working computer was out of the question.

So how did this internet junkie deal with being severed from her technological window to the world? I whined a lot and. . .er. . .wined, because let's face it, no internet!  Hey, don't judge me. I didn't just sit around and swig from a wineglass, you know. I also ate chocolate and watched recorded episodes of the new Hawaii Five-O; and if you've ever seen Alex O'Loughlin shirtless you won't ask why Five-O is my new Must-Not-Miss. Actually, now that I think about it, losing the internet wasn't all bad. Just saying.

In honor of my return to the blogosphere I wrote the following poem, limerick style:

There once was a blogger who cried,
The week that her internet died.
She posted no stuff,
Neither serious nor fluff.
With technology she did collide.

When finally the techs got it right,
The internet beamed to her site.
She tried not to pine,
For all the missed time,
And the stuff that she nary did write.

(Oh, how I missed Microfiction Monday!)

So now she is back to her blog,
A veritable computer hog.
She’s still mad at Bellsouth,
‘Cause they shut her mouth,
With four days of internet fog.

The story is over, my friends.
But this lesson was learned at the end:
Your internet cherish,
Lest connection should perish,
And leave you with no blog to tend!

Thanks for sticking with me through the black hole of internet failure. I can't possibly catch up with all the posts by fellow bloggers, and I'm sorry for that because I know I've missed some terrific stuff; but I'm glad to be back on board!

How do you cope with internet outages? Do you grumble, suffer in silence, or haunt the local internet cafes?

Loving my internet connection --
Lisa

Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Spirit of Christmas


Today's post is a bit of a cheat---a repeat from last Christmas. I hope you don't mind the duplication, but this sums up how I feel about the holiday. Do you agree with what I've written below, or disagree? I'd love to hear your comments about the Spirit of Christmas.


Clip art courtesy of Webweaver

Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" made its annual appearance the other night. Old bagger that I am, I nodded off through part of Christmas Past and Present.  Later, Tiny Tim uttered his famous line without me because I was staring into the kitchen pantry wishing a can of beets would morph into a bag of M&M’s.  The M&M’s never materialized, so I ended up back in front of the tube grumbling, “Humbug!”  I settled for an Oreo cookie, but my chocolate craving remained unfulfilled.

Scrooge was unhappy, too, sobbing over his own gravestone and begging the Spirit of Christmas Future for a chance to change the course of his life. He promised to hold the Spirit of Christmas in his heart every day and not just at the Christmas season.
 

I have always focused on the story’s message that we have the power to impact our future by changing our behavior in the present.  For instance, how this cookie I'm munching tonight will evidence itself on my hips tomorrow.  Keeping the Spirit of Christmas inside us every day, with every breath—that concept I never fully pondered.
 

So what is the Spirit of Christmas? I believe it is being kind to others, being grateful for what we have, loving each other and forgiving one another in spite of our differences and foibles.  The Spirit of Christmas is the contentment we find in the presence of our loved ones, and the happiness derived from joyful giving. 

Surprise! I thought of religion not even once.
 

Christmas is more than just a Christian holiday. When I was a kid, most folks understood this concept. No one took offense at the trappings of Christmas because of the good things that ride on this holiday’s coattails. Not so much these days, with political correctness running amok. Too bad, because “good will toward men” is a positive thing, no matter what religion one practices. 

In spite of that, I still believe there is plenty of Christmas to go around. As a Christian, I celebrate Christ in the holiday, but if I awoke with amnesia and no recollection of being Christian, Jewish or Muslim I would yet delight in the sight of shy children talking to Santa. I would still be grateful for the love of my family. I would enjoy the lights on the neighborhood homes, and understand that dropping loose change into the Salvation Army bucket and donating canned goods to the local food bank should continue past December 31st.

That each person’s heart might, every day, hold alive the Spirit of Christmas is as impossible as turning a can of beets into a bag of M&M’s; and yet, I wonder . . . perhaps the miracle lies not in wanting it to happen, but in believing with all of my heart that one day, it will. 

May the Spirit of Christmas drift upon you, gentle as a snowflake and bright as a star; may the gifts of love and hope be visited upon you in abundance; and may God bless us. . .every one.

Merry Christmas -
Lisa

Monday, December 13, 2010

Red Socks, Reindeer and Microfiction Monday

Clip art courtesy of Webweaver

Merry Christmas!  I'm in a jolly mood because I finished my Christmas shopping yesterday, which means I can sit back and enjoy the rest of December stress free. I'm usually that frantic woman you see rushing through the mall with a glazed look in her eyes and hair standing on end. Not this year, buttercup. Yay!

(An aside:  The festive reindeer above resembles a cartoon rendition of my yellow Lab were I to embarrass him by tying back his floppy ears and attaching antlers.)

Now to the main reason for my Monday post: the just-too-much-fun Microfiction Monday, hosted by Susan at Stony River.  It is ridiculous how much I look forward to this every week. Susan has single-handedly turned Monday into one of my favorite days of the week.  Thanks, Susan! And thanks to all the other participants who make this weekly meme such a joy.  Below are my two stories to accompany the picture, each 140 characters or less.


She has no fear of dreaming for a grander life than this; 
distant lands, romance, mystery & bliss. 
She’s not afraid. . .to dream, to dream.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So I’m brainless, am I?” She muttered. 
“Well, I’m smart enough to know these red socks 
will turn his undershorts pink.   
That’ll teach him!”

Someone asked me what I consider the most difficult part of Microfiction Monday.  Well, the writing is fun and no trouble at all. The tough part is getting to all the other blogs to read the stories and leave a comment. I never make it to every one, and I know I'm missing out.

An update for all you holiday shoppers:  not counting today, there are eleven shopping days left until the big guy blasts down your chimney! Good luck with your shopping. I wish you an abundance of parking spaces, amazing sales, and short lines at the check-out!

Merry Christmas!
Lisa

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Old Bagger Brace Face OR Proof that God has a sense of humor...

Clip art courtesy of CartoonWorks by Ron Wheeler, master cartoonist.  This man does amazing work. Take a minute to check out his site.  Just looking around is fun!


Brace Face. Train Tracks. Metal Mouth. Tinsel Teeth. Magnet Mouth. Cheese Grater. Zipper Lips. Tin Grin.  And my personal favorite: Jaws.

I am loathe to report that due to teeth-shifting events beyond my control I have been forced to join the ranks of the metal-mouthed. At 50. That's right, buttercup. This old bagger has a mouthful of metal.  Well, okay, not all metal. I opted for the clear plastic brackets; but the wire attaches to the brackets and it is---say it with me---metal.

You know, I delivered three kids without the benefit of anesthesia. That's right, au naturale from start to finish. So comparatively speaking, the soreness and discomfort associated with braces is no big deal.  (Trust me on this one. Labor and delivery is way worse.) How does it feel? Like I'm wearing an extra set of choppers or Billy-Bob teeth, that's how. My self-esteem is curled into a fetal position at the back corner of my closet for the next 18 months. Even so, I can live with that.  What is driving me the most crazy is that everything, and I mean everything, gets stuck in these darn things.

The day the orthodontist wielded his torture tools on me, we went out to dinner.  I ordered soup and salad. How bad could that be, right? Between the shredded chicken in the soup and the greenery from the salad, the inside of my mouth looked like a rain forest. Throw in a sloth and a red howler monkey and it would have been a done deal. I learned fast that a meal means "zipped lips until after brushing." My family has figured that out, too. When they want me to shut up they feed me something.

I know this won't last forever. In 18 months the braces will come off and my teeth will be happy campers again. But make no mistake, buttercup. It will be a long 18 months, during which time my family and friends will tease me mercilessly, strangers will stare and pity me, and the toothbrush will be my best friend.

And if I find any sloths and red howler monkeys, you will be the first to know.

Off to brush--
Lisa

Monday, December 6, 2010

Spirits Whisper: Microfiction Monday

Thanks for dropping by for another Microfiction Monday.  If you have yet to shoot over to Susan at Stony River who hosts this challenge, please do.  She always has a terrific story, and there are many other blogs to visit for more tales to match the photo. I am always blown away by the creativity and the different views.  Here are my two 140 character offerings to go along with this week's picture:



Whispers…
Of that which was, but is no more; 
alive in naught but ancient lore. 
Sense me in the wind’s refrain. 
I didn’t die; 
my soul remains.


* * * * * * * * * *

“Tis the perfect spot,” he mused, 
“to lie down for an afternoon snooze.” 
He never awoke, never did rise; 
‘twas quite the dirt nap surprise!


Thanks for visiting. Please check back again soon.  In the meantime, I wish you a wonderful Monday to begin your week.

Til next time -
Lisa

P.S.  18 shopping days until Christmas!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Keyboard with Cattitude

Luna apparently thought my last post lacked an air of realism.  She kidnapped my keyboard and held it hostage for the better part of a half hour.





Now that I have my laptop back, I've got work to do. Hope everyone has a terrific weekend!

Til next time -
Lisa

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Loony for Luna

Luna at 5-weeks-old, 13 ounces
                      
When my daughter brought home a 5-week-old kitten, found shivering in a storm drain, my initial reaction wasn't just "no", it was "hellsabellsapoppin' NO!" After all, our household already caters to two dogs, two cats, and two rats. Do we need another furry critter roaming about?

Apparently, we do. *sigh*

My daughter named her Luna, and on her initial visit to the vet Luna required de-worming and antibiotics for a respiratory infection. Luna brought fleas with her, too, but at only 13 ounces, she was too tiny for chemical treatment; the alternative was daily grooming with a flea comb.

I asked our vet if they had room for her in their cat adoption room. "No," the doctor said. "But I can give you the numbers of a couple of no-kill shelters."

Yeah, right. Like I would take a sick, furry baby to a shelter. I'd gnaw my arm off at the shoulder first.

And that, buttercup, is how Luna became the newest member of our furry menagerie.  She graduated from helpless baby to sharp-clawed terrorist in just a few short weeks. She weighs in at 2 pounds, is now healthy and free of fleas, and thinks she owns the place. And pretty much, she does.

Luna at 3-months-old, 2 pounds


Luna hangs out with me while I'm writing and delights in batting things from my desk and laying kitty paw prints on my keyboard and screen. She also keeps my lap warm and purrs with contentment when I coo at her. Overall, she has proven herself to be a delightful muse.

Pray for me, please, that no other critter in need shows up at my doorstep. I'm running out of lap space.

Til next time -
Lisa