Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Some New Amusement...

My LOL name is Snuggles Phisher. I wish I knew how to post the link so you can find your own LOL name. I am just not that clever. Find another LOL name.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Words to Live By...

Sometime Courage is nothing more than being able to whisper at bedtime, "I'll try again tomorrow." --author unknown

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

A Little Survey - July ??, 2008

Blog Entry A Little Survey Dec 21, '07 2"20 PM
for everyone

1. You can only answer Yes or No!


2. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!

3. Repost this on your page.

****************Here we go!!

Kissed someone on your friends list? No


Danced in front of your mirror naked? yes

Ever told a lie? yes

Tripped on mushrooms? no

Done ecstasy? No

Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? Yes

Been arrested? No

Kissed a picture? Yes

Slept till 5pm? No

Had sex at work? No

Fallen asleep at work? No

Had an actual snake? No

Ran a red light? Yes

Been suspended from school? No

Totalled car/motorcycle in an accident? Yes

Been fired from a job? No

Sang karaoke? no

Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes

Kissed in the rain? Yes

Sang in the shower? Yes

Sat on a roof top? Yes

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? no

Broken a bone? No

Shaved your head? No

Slept naked? Yes

Blacked out after drinking? no

Played a prank on someone? Yes

Had a gym membership? Yes

Felt like killing someone? yes

Made your Partner cry? no

Had sex more than 9 times in one day? No

Had mexican jumping beans as pets? no

Been in a band? no


Shot a gun? no

Played strip poker? No

Donated blood? No

Video taped you having sex? No

Still love someone you shouldn't? yes

Have a tattoo? yes

Any piercings, other than ears? No

Sunday, July 13, 2008

I just caught one.

In the Headline of my last post, I incorrectly used the lowercase "i" when I should have used a capital I.

No one gets on my back about this stuff worse than I do!

Mistakes...I thought I made one once, but I was wrong

Cassie pointed out to me today that she has found numerous errors in my recent blog posts. That isn't like me. I hate spelling errors, and I hate even more substituting a sound-alike letter for a word. It's lazy and inappropriate. I c u r bzee. Don't give me that crap. If you are going to write to me, then please write the words you want to say. I will think highly of you.

Another issue I'm having is keeping my fingers on the correct keys. I struggle with this constantly. I think I get going toi fast sometimes. I understand this happens to a lot of people, but I strive for correctness in my written work. I hate making mistakes in my writing.

This is all about me. What I like, what I want, what I do correctly or incorrectly. Another thing I hate is a Friday night tv show called "Numbers" in which an e is replaced with a number 3. That's wrong!!!!! Don't do it that way. I don't think it is clever at all.

I also had an issue with "xmas" until I learned that the "x" actually meant the cross upon which Christ was crucified and so meant "Christ."

NOw you all know how I feel about things, so let's shape up out there.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

But how do i add a group?

http://amazingstitches.blogspot.com/I just found a blog I thought I would like to add to my list, but how the heck do you do that?

Friday, July 11, 2008

The Kissing Mouse Part 1

Part 3

Early the next morning, Daddy got up and got dressed to go to work. Before he left, he poured a cup of coffee and peeked at the Kissing Mouse. “Cute little Mouse.” Said Daddy.
“Daddy, guess what Mousey did last night?” cried Jack. Then Jacky told mom and dad the whole story of how Mousey had wakened him so he could let Francesca back in the house. “Naughty Francesca!” Mama scolded. “You know better than to try to sneak out during the night. I et is wa!” Mama scolded “You know better than to try to sneak out during the night. I bet it was good and cold out there!” Francesca was little bit ashamed of herself because she knew she had done a wrong thing. But Francesca was not afraid, she knew her family would always lover ner, no matter what she did.
Daddy finished his coffee and put on his hat. It was time to leave for work. Before he could go very far, the Kissing Mouse ran up Daddy’s sleeve and gave him a kiss on the chin. Daddy lauhed because it tickled.
Then Mousey ran into the living room where Megan and Erica ere plaing on the flor. The little mouse rant to Megan and kissed her little chubby hand, then climbed up her arm and kissed her arm at every step. Megan laughed and laughed. Then the Mous
The Kissing Mouse
© 2008
Sherry Benic

ran to Erica and did the same thing, kissing and tickling with his tiny little moujse feet. He sure was a busy little Kissing Mouse.
After a while, Yaya came over. When the Mouse saw Yaya, she scampered up her arm to her shoulder. Now remember, it was on Yaya’s shoulder that the kiss turned into a mouse. This time, there was little and a burst of stars and hearts, and the mouse turned back into a kiss.
The End
Later that night, after the family was all tucked in their beds and fast asleep, Francesca woke up.
Now, Francesca was the little dog, and sometimes she was naughty. On this night, Francesca pointed her nose in the air and sniffed. He smelled something different from the usual House smells. She smelled the nighttime air! Someone must have left a window open. Francesca poked her nose out from under the covers. Very quietlyshe wiggled her whole head out. Then her front paws and her long, little body. The last part to come out from under the covers was her tail. Francesca tried wagging her tail very quietly. It worked!
She tip-toed across the floor and into the living rom. There it was! An open window. Francesca jumped up onto the back of the couch and pushed her nose throught the open window. If she pushed a little harder, her head pushed the window open a little further. Pretty soon, Francesca could wriggle her shoulders through the open window. An inch at a time, she pushed out the window, then jumed down into the soft, wet grass.

The Kissing Mouse
© 2008
Sherry Benic

Meanwhile, in her little dump truck, near Jacky’s bed, under her washcloth blanket, the Kissing Mouse’s whiskers began to wiggle and twitch. She opened one eye. Her whiskers were teling her something was wrong! Mousey concentrated on her wiggling whiskers, then climbd out of the dump truck and ran over to Jacky’s bed..
Mousey pulled herself all the way up to the mattress where Jacky was sleeping. He bounced over the mattress and planted a great big kiss on Jacky’s forehead. He was such a little mouse that his bouncind didn’t move the mattress at all. Jacky didn’t even know he had been kissed, because even a big kiss from very tiny mouse does not feel very big.
Mousey had to kiss Jacky five or si times before Jacky finally woke up and rubbed his eyes. Mousey jumped up and down and pointed down the hallway to the living room. Then he got down on his hands and knees and acted like a dog, and pointed down the hall again. Jacky was still sleepy, but he understood tht Mousey was trying to tell him about one of the dogs in the living room.
So Jacky ushed the covers off of himself, and climbed out of bed, and followed Mousey down the hall. In the living room, Mousey pointed to the open window and ran to door. Jacky thought to himself, the window isn’t open very far. I bet Gracie (the big dog, couldn’t climb through there. But Francesca could!
qJack went to the front door and very quietly he pulled it open just a little bit. What did he see on the front step? It was Francesca, sitting all huddled up in a little ball, and
The Kissing Mouse
© 2008
Sherry Benic

shivering like crazy. “Oh naughty Francesca,” said Jack. “You sneaked outside and you got very cold. You come back in the house now, ok?”Francesca jumped up and licked Jack’s face because she was very happy. Then Francesca rand down the hallway and jumped back into bed with mommy and daddy/ After a few minutes she stopped shivering and went back to sleep.
The Kissing Mouse
© 2008
Sherry Benic


The sun was shining in a bright blue sky while Jack and Yaya played in the grass. Jack was throwing pretend kisses to Yaya. He would kiss his hand and pretend to throw the kiss across the yard to Yaya. His grandma, yaya, was pretending to catch the kisses in her hand and put them on hr cheek. Sometimes Jack would tease yaya and tell her, “Oh oh, yaya, you missed!”
Jack threw another kiss to yaya. When she pretended to catch it, Jack called out, “oh oh Yaya. You missed. That one landed on your shoulder!” Yaya looked at her shoulder and Jack shouted in surprise, “Hey! That one turned into a mouse!” When she looked at her shoulder, Jack’s grandma saw a tiny little brown mouse looking back at her with big, dark eyes and a little pink nose.
“Oh My Goodness!!” Grandma yelled, surprised. The funny little mouse jumped up a little bit and kissed yaya on the cheek. None of Jack’s kisses had ever turned into a mouse before! Suddenly the mouse wiggled its whiskers and twitched its tail, and ran down from Yaya’s shoulder to the grass. “It is a Kissing Mouse, A Kissing Mouse!” shouted Jack.
“It sure is!” Yaya shouted back. The funny little mouse ran up the porch steps and slipped into the house. “Come on, Yaya,” Jack yelled and ran into the house to follow the little mouse.
They found the mouse all curled up in Jack’s dump truck, sound asleep. “Cover him up, yaya” said Jack. He needs a little blanket.” Yaya went to the cupboard and

The Kissing Mouse
© 2008
Sherry Benic

looked inside. She found some little washcloths and gave one to Jack. “Here, Jacky, this is just the right size to cover up a tiny, sleeping mouse.”
Very gently Jack put the washcloth over the little kissing mouse and tucked it in around him. Jacky kissed his finger and touched the mouse’s little head with his kiss. In his sleep, the little mouse smiled. “What name will you give to your mouse, Jacky?”
“Ummm, I will call him Mousey,” said Jack.

Experiment


Last summer, Jack fell in love with gardening. I don't have a real garden; I have a patch of weeds encosed within a stone barrier. Jack and I would go shopping and pick up plants we liked, then bring them home and put them in containers on the back patio (as opposed to the front patio, which we don't have). We planted geraniums, petunias, impatiens. This year, I am going to fill a pot with sand and put in nasturtium seeds. The best nasturtiums I ever grew were seeds dropped in a sandy corner near the sidewalk. I know they do not thrive in rich soild, although that will contribute to lovely leaves. I think it will be interesting to see if we can grow nasturtiums. I can't think of those tender little flowers without remembering a military neighbor out at McChord. She alays referred to them as "nasturniums." Which does sound like it should be the name of a flower. In an effort at sumi-e painting several years ago, I did my own rendition of nasturtiums, which I present for your pleasure here today.

Forgot Something

I see that I forgot to add the example of marital discord, but really, didn't I cover that in one of my facts about me? Yes, I thought so.

I love to do a Meme. It's all about Meme.

I have never been tagged before, and now thanks to One Step Sideways I have a bit of work to do on the blog where I never blog.


Here are the rules:


1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog. (I don't know how)
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. (okie dokie)

3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs. (again, I don't know how)

4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. (finish laughter from #3)

5. Present an image of martial discord from whatever period or situation you'd like. (as you wish.)


And now, 7 Facts about me:

1. I am a published writer and artist.

2. I have a cat who can hawk up hairballs on command.

3. A very bitter friend who liked to try to mess things up for people, shared with me that I had the 2nd highest IQ in high school, then told me before the ceremony that I had won the Creative Writing Award.

4. I have a discreet tatoo, slowly becoming a long-stemmed rose; and only my ears are pierced.

5. My mother and dad fought so much I sometimes wished they would divorce and I could go live with Aunt Helen and Uncle Floyd.

6. I dream of writing a children's story that will be accepted for publication.

7. I'm fat; I know what causes it, but I don't cure it.

In the spirit of the meme, please read the fine print: If you are reading this, then consider yourself tagged.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

My Precious

These babies are the reason I didn't just cash it all in last October. Of course, The Texans are part of the same reasoning, but we generally don't discuss their names or show their pictures. Bottom Line: I'm not done with these children yet, and I feared that giving up to the Heart Surgery would leave too many things undone. There must be a reason God brought me through it all. My doctors keep telling me I am a Miracle, and I don't quite "get it." Unless because I was found to have 5 serious blockages inside my heart, but never had a heart attack or a stroke or any other problem. I was having the Open Heart within a week of finding the blockages. I did use a lot of nitro during that week. For what it's worth, I took off most of that week from work.

At this time I am angry with both my school district and my surgeon for allowing me to go back to work aftr only 8 weeks, with no restrictions. I couldn't do it. I seriously did not have the energy or ability to manage five days of work every week. Someone should have been looking out for me. Someone was: my good friend, Dr Bob, the psychologist who shares my office at one of my schools. Bob told me repeatedly that I was doing too much too soon. Instead, I ended up taking the last month of school as medical leave in order to destress, and relieve my anxiety.

Teaching is NOT an easy profession. It is highly demanding. And I work in a school in which every parent thinks he/she owns the school and has the right to make outrageous demands at any time. I want to leave that building.

But, I digress by leaps and bounds. I began by saying those little cuties up there are the reason I did not give up and ask God to take me. I remember some moments of feeling deeply connected on a spiritual level to God/the Higher Power/the Universe. I firmly believed at that time that if I asked to die, I could have. But I thought of the grandchildren, and I couldn't do it.

My life is not what I hoped it would be. I thought my husband and I would joyfully watch our children grow and accomplish wonderful lives. I believed that until the day he said to me, "I can hardly wait for the kids to grow up and be gone so we can do what we want to do." If I remember correctly, he was the partner who threw out my birth control impulsively so we could have a baby. And suddenly he was telling me that he didn't want these children we had created. I have never been as lonely without that man as I was while I was married to him. I want to watch the children be silly and I want to share laughs with someone who loves them to distraction. I hope God has that someone in His plan for me.

My children and my grandchildren are the reason I live today, and they are the focus of nearly everything I do. I hope when you look at them, you can see what I see.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Me as a Superhero!

My Frustration


It wasn't until I scanned this that I realized the eyes looked odd--kind of lop-sided. The changes I made when I inked over the drawing did not come through well. However, this was a quick pencil sketch, and overall I am pleased with it. I wanted to recreate the Gerber baby with my own precious little grandchild. This is Erica. the older of the two by one minute. Sometimes Erica looks a little bigger than Megan; she usually weighs just a few ounces (4 or 5) more than Megan, and she was slightly larger at birth. These little cuties barely hit the ground at the picnic yesterday. It was nice to see that Cassie put them down in the grass where they could explore their world. We couldn't help but smile, remembering how Jack would cry when his bare feet touched grass at the same age.

Friday, July 4, 2008

The elusive drawing that recalls a summer day

August. So hot, so humid, everything sticks. Walking feels more like wading in this heavy air. The road in front of the house is blacktop.
Even so, dust clings to everything. Everywhere else is green and lush, summer at its zenith, trees fully leafed, flowers fully bloomed, and for the children a sense that time is fully stopped, hanging in the air.
But it is morning and the heat has not yet stilled their thirst for adventure. Through the house, the end of the road beckons.
"Mom, can we have a picnic lunch?"
"I guess so. What do you have planned?"
"We're going to ride our bikes to the end of the road."We're going to watch the planes."
Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper are dropped into brown paper bags. Apples. School thermoses filled with Kool-Aid. Potato chips. Mom packs a mean picnic.
Today, though, when tennis shoes meet bike pedals, the children turn the other way, a blue Huffy and a red Schwinn roll down the driveway and turn left onto the old, pot-holed road.
No traffic today. Mid-morning, mid-week, mid-summer, and not many cars have a need to travel down this country road. Across the way, deep in old Mrs Goike's pasture, cows drowse. Next door, the Goike house is closed up. The Goikes and their five kids away on vacation. Down at the corner, Mrs. Goike's dad pokes at his garden with a hoe. He waves at the children as they ride by.
Waiting for two cars to pass, they cross 21-Mile Road to the next leg of Sugarbush. Here, the trees grow close to the edge of the road, their branches sometimes meeting overhead. The sugar-beet fields that gave the road its name no longer exist. The air is a little cooler here, under the leafy canopy.
The bikes pass the Little Store, windows boarded over now. When they were younger, the children ran here on errands for mom. Now they pass the house where Stella and her brother Doug live. Their mom is really nice, but the kids woder why she doesn't stand up straight. She walks all hunched over like a witch. It will be many years before they hear of osteoporosis. Their dad is kind of scary and mean. As she rides by, the girl thinks of brown beer bottles.
Shirley's house sits in its yard on the right, like an old white hen on its next. Nothing moves. Somewhere a bird calls out. In the distance a dog barks.
Kathy's house is at the end of a long, long driveway. Her older brother is big and blonde. Kathy is so quiet and shy it is hard to be friends with her.
A little farther on they pass Kingsbury Drive, and now the trees thin out and finally end. All around is empty field. Out there, in all that field, is the end of the runway.
The ditch running alongside the road is dry. Here the children drop their bikes and settle into the cushion of the long grass. Cross-legged, they open paper bags whose tops have already begun to disintegrate from the grasp of sweaty hands.
In the distance a jet engine roars to life. Shining eyes focus on the far end of the runway. The jet shimmers in the haze and gathers speed. As it moves closer and closer, wheels lifting from the tarmac and folding into its belly, then roaring overhead into the sky.
"That was a C-5!" shouts the boy. He knows them all.
The girl doesn't care. She cringes at the noise, revels in the speed, and takes a bite of her sandwich.
This is how they pass the morning. The boy bounces with the joy of each take-off. Planes fascinate He dreams of being a jet pilot. She dreams of the places the planes are going.
It is a moment in their lives--a moment of fullness. Later they will stuff the remains of their picnic back into the paper bags. They will ride their bikes back home.

Sugarbush Road

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

A Little More

I had lunch today with a teacher friend. We had such a fun gossip; I completely enjoyed myself. That salad at Applebee's was wonderful. And I just love this friend. She is so funny and sharp.

I am thinking now, that I am feeling so mujch better than I was a month ago. Taking the month of medical leave was the right thing to do. I do blame my surgeon: he should have provided me with some restrictions. I tried to do too much too fast after my surgery. A four-day work week would have been an appropriate restriction to help me stay rested. Also, my schools should have reduced the demands on me for a period of time. But then, principals have so many things to take care of, they can't be responsible for their staff, too. They just don't have time to care about anyone who gets paid to be there. Their first priority (and I know this from 21 years of observation) is always to stand on their heads to make parents happy.

I don't care what the Twit (last post) thinks, I know I am a pretty woman, and intel-
ligent. Probably more intelligent than most men I ever have dated. I could name a few, and I win, hands down.

But somehow, as I grew up, I learned not to trust myself, but to believe that everyone else knew more than I about what was best for me. So...if a man told me something, I believed it was true. NOw, I understand that is not necessarily true, an I like men a lot. I especially like their physiology. I like their voices--the lower timber and the souondof their laughter. I'm sorry I work in a field which has so few men. Well. Enough.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Time to check in with myself. I may have lost a pound, but I am not counting on that. My nerves are shot. I cannot get through a week without needing pepto bismol or kaopectate. It really wipes me out. On the plus side, I can proudly tell Oprah that I have not eaten within 2 hours of bedtime, and I have moved in some way every day. Some days I made it to Curves, other days I did the treadmill, anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes. This week it was 20 and my hip and leg are in a lot of pain. Perhaps I should cut down to five minutes per day, every day, and build up more slowly. I have cut out nearly all fast food and Ihave had no booze in weeks. I call this progress. I feel better.

I feel better enugh that I don't know why Im still single. I did meet a gentleman last week, through an online dating service. Understand that I use the term "gentleman" very loosely. The only thing this dude had in common with a gentleman was gender. His first comment to me was that my breasts were not quite as large ashe hoped they would be. Mea culpa. He did not understand bra sizing at all. Next was the inspection of my home: "How can you stand all this clutter?" "I don't look at it." Moral: where were you when your mother was teaching you manners? So far I am incredibly impressed with this man. He did say that his ultimate goal was marriage and he didn't want to bother if that wasn't my goal also. I see this twit as a control freak. He wants marriage so he can force his wife to meet his demanding appeites. I told him he needed to be looking into a bdsm site for a potential bride. Without going any further into this whole thing...I think he is too arrogant to recognise himself here. And yet...there was something kind of appealing about this poor little dude: a deep vulnerability and need to punish himself and humiliate himself. For what, I wonder? I find myself thinking of him the same way I did the Drunk. If only the right someone loved him enough, he could be healed. He needs deep, ongoing psychotherapy This little guy is so self-absorbed, he doesn't even know when there is another person in the room. Forunately for me, he decided I wasn't right for him. I am so proud of standing my ground and not giving in to his odd appetites. Mind, this guy will show up in one of my stories one day. He is 'way too interesting to pass up.