Why doesn't McDonald's sell hot dogs?
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
I bet you’ve been wondering how it’s going with the papier–mâché guys I started before Thanksgiving. I’m sure it’s been keeping you up at night! LOL
Well……I’ve been s-l-o-w-l-y working on them. One at a time. Letting them tell me what they want/need.
The first one finished was this guy.
I waited for him to introduce himself and tell me his story.
His name is Fuzziwig. He told me he once worked as a clerk in a counting house in London. But because of his lackluster attitude toward the business he got sacked. He now works as a runway model in Paris. An occupation for which he is quite qualified with his stoic look and his ram rod posture.
Be sure you have your sound turned on...I worked hard on this audio track! ;)
I treated myself to a new software suite for Christmas. Camtasia
I want to learn how to make better videos without pulling my hair out in frustration with the free software.
Fuzziwig’s photo shoot was my first attempt. I had fun doing it….sitting at the computer and laughing out loud to myself!
I love it when a plan comes together!
Monday, December 11, 2017
Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.
(footnote:I'm running out of good puns so I've decided to switch to PARAPROSDOKIANS.
PARAPROSDOKIANS (Winston Churchill loved them) are figures of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected; frequently humorous.)
Friday, December 8, 2017
When my mother died I was tasked with cleaning out her house and getting it ready for sale. I wasn’t much surprised by anything I found until I went down into the basement. There, behind the stairs in a dark corner was a cobbled together set of shelves. Made from leftover wood, two by fours and bits of plywood. Not pretty but sturdy and functional. And on these narrow shelves were jars and jars of my grandmother’s canning. Vegetables from her victory garden that she had 'put up' years ago. Some of them were pristine and recognizable and some were black with spoilage.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. My grandmother had died many years before, in a different town hundreds of miles away from this dark basement. And yet my mother had rescued the jars and kept them all these years. I had been in and out of this basement many times but somehow I had never noticed them.
In that moment of fresh grief for my mother’s passing I felt a connection to her that I hadn’t felt before. She missed her mother as much as I was missing her. It was as if she had placed those jars there for me, just for this moment when she knew I would need them. As if to say, “I know. I know how you’re feeling and here is tangible proof that I understand.” A cosmic ‘hug’ if you will from my female ancestors who knew exactly when and where I would need it.