How To Post To Your Blog While Wearing A Purple Cast In Three Easy Lessons...

Lesson Number One

Make sure your post title is the longest one you have ever written.  It'll look impressive to anyone who can read knowing you accomplished this feat with only one index finger.  (You will also get extra points if a teacher reads it and pronounces that you have spelled all the words correctly... and even more points if the entire post is grammatically correct including punctuation.  Particularly if it is Mrs. Who, whom we all know is the absolutely best but severely underpaid and under-appreciated teacher in her state... AND she survives even though she works for Professor Umbridge!  NOTE: I WAS going to link to one of Mrs. Who's Professor Umbridge posts but her current post is.... well, I won't ruin the surprise...)

Lesson Number Two

Wait to post anything to the internet until you only have to take Advil for the pain.  (Unless you actually want anyone to know exactly what you did to earn that purple cast... Note the date since my last post...)

Lesson Number Three

Make sure your post contains a short humorous anecdote from before PC (purple cast)

How about this for short and anecdotal... I've asked my husband several times to take the air conditioner out of the window.  

(You'd think he would have vividly remembered our previous experience with air conditioners.  I recently had to describe this past experience during a conversation and even though it's been years, I still become mortified.  Mortified because I can't coherently get the whole story out before becoming unintelligible from laughter, both from the experience and the expressions on the listeners faces.  I can't help myself, it just cracks me up.  I'm sorry, but I always seem to picture myself standing with the squirrels and wild turkeys and wishing I had had a camera.  A picture of the expression that must have been on my husband's face when he received the phone call would also have been an extra special 'Kodak moment'.)

The Color Purple...

Today I arrived at the doctor's office wearing a purple sweater and carrying a purple purse... not that I'd planned it that way, but just because they happened to be within reach and were easy to carry.  I left the doctor's office with a purple cast.  And my kids say that I am hardly ever fashionably color coordinated.... 

And just so you know for future reference... you KNOW your pain meds are working when you read the following questions and think they are hilarious OR you actually consider the possibilities...

 What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating
 an endangered plant?  

 If a cow laughed, would milk come out her nose?  

 If an orange is orange, why isn't a lime called a green or a 
 lemon called a yellow?

 Would a fly without wings be called a walk? 

 If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked?

Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?

Can vegetarians eat animal crackers? 

QOTD: THE PURPLE COW 

    _Reflections on a Mythic Beast,
    Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least._

    I never Saw a Purple Cow;
      I never Hope to See One;
    But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
      I'd rather See than Be One.

        _Cinq Ans Apres._

    (_Confession: and a Portrait, Too,
    Upon a Background that I Rue!_)

    Ah, yes! I wrote the "Purple Cow"--
      I'm Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
    But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
      I'll Kill you if you Quote it!

~ Frank Gelett Burgess (1866–1951) artist, art critic, poet, author, and humorist 

Conversational Ponderings...

I have a new fashion accessory... a half cast splint on my left hand/wrist.  Luckily it's not my writing hand but I AM seriously considering learning to type with my toes.  It would probably be a lot faster than my one handed typing.  Still, how can it be a bad week?  All five kids go back to school tomorrow. :o)  

(I know you are dying to know how it happened but do you seriously think I'm going to COMPLETELY describe my idiocy even further?  Nope.  Suffice to say my mother did NOT name me Grace...)

So instead, my mind is wandering painlessly, thinking about our family communication skills.  What does that have to do with a trip to the ER?  Why, absolutely nothing.  (See comment above about painlessness...)

I know it is sad but true that sometimes our family conversations are not quite in the realm of what is average...  Well, OK...  As average as the average person at large is.  Never mind.  I guess I can’t very well dress up our conversations in anything that would resemble polite conversation in a situation where one might be overheard.  Anyone who has ever read any of our family conversations (or been around, involved or related to us) have already been initiated and know what to expect.  

I’m sure there are many families who communicate just fine with dignity, politeness and a decibel level that does not legally have to have a warning posted on their front door.  They may even provide parental direction and chastisement in a reasonable manner expected of most Homo Sapiens whilst their offspring argue or whine.  Occasionally I wonder what that would be like...  

I also ponder the thought that in my golden years there will be times when, instead of inhaling or snorting out my nose some liquid substance as occasionally happens in our family’s presence during said communication, I will instead be spitting out my dentures… or perhaps I will merely choke on them.  I dread to think what my family would put on my epitaph… Here lies Lemon Stand who choked on a joke.  Rest In Peace… (And Quiet)

Our family rarely communicates merely in any one type of way.  Our family likes to explore all the options of communication... We all like to discuss, quip, debate, laugh, demand, mock, request, argue, snicker, pick an argument, banter, hassle, whine, make fun of, cross swords, disagree, gang up on, sass, dispute, quarrel, joke, get in one's face, hammer, hash out, have at each other, knock around, lock horns, sartorial witticism, quibble, rehash, row, jump on, squabble and occasionally speak in a polite, respectful manner.

I believe I have come to the end of my ponderings for the day since that happy, floating feeling is almost gone.  Time to go whimpering to the medicine bottle.  Who knows where the next wanderings might lead...