I'm Still In New England, Right?

It IS January, isn't it? I'm still in New England, right? It's 57° out here in the middle of nowhere (we live in a neighborhood where most of the neighbors could be considered edible... You can relax though, because we are NOT cannibals.  You may trust me when I say homo sapiens are very safe at our dinner table... Well, ok... homo sapiens are at least safe from being the literal 'roast' of honor.  Most of our neighbors happen to be wild turkeys, wild rabbits, pheasant, deer, moose, bear... although I unequivocally DO draw the line on eating the squirrels... one must have standards...) and it's raining like Noah is coming to visit. Silver lining?  It's a great day to kick back and while listening to the rain, have a cup of hot tea, eat cookies and read, write, sew, quilt, or watch a movie. Or go out to sing in the rain and come in with pneumonia. Ah, choices, choices... :)

QOTD: "Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon." ~ Susan Ertz

Lost: A Little Grey Matter

https://twitter.com/ritgraymatter logo

   Lost: My brain has gone missing sometime this morning. I remember having it when I woke up but it has since gone a wandering.

   It's medium sized, wrinkled and colored with more than a little bit of grey matter.

   It answers to the names Mom, wife, Lemon Stand and very occasionally 'hey you'.

   It has a great deal of compassion (when warranted), wit and snark (when pressed).

   It does tend to wander and wonder with a little more frequency than it used to but is at peace with this.

   It has, in the past, gravitated to humorous situations, chocolate, books and occasionally fabric stores (whenever it thinks it can get away with it) and has a fine tuned sense of the absurd.

  If anyone should find it, please tell it that it is missed and is wanted desperately at home.

QOTD: "Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't tell where it keeps it's brain." Arthur Weasley, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets ~ J. K. Rolling

Vacation Is Over

Since I am determined to make a dent in the cleaning to-do list, I'm dragging out energy fortification... The Party Pack for a cleaning party of one so I don't have to share. (One must always look for the silver lining. :)

QOTD: (A list today)

- 9 out of 10 people like chocolate, the 10th person lies
- Chocolate is the answer, who cares what the question is
- Never under-estimate the power of chocolate
- Chocolate doesn't ask silly questions, chocolate understands

It's A Wonderful Life...

I love the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life" for so many reasons but especially for setting the mood and focus of the holiday season for me. A renewal of the things that really matter. 

It's not any secret that my family thrives on humor, odd though it may be sometimes, but it works for us and has had the bonus of keeping me sane over the years.  This year, Christmas at our house was normal... well, as normal as our family can be when it comes to Christmas. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone in our quirky family could be considered a poster-child for normality in any sense of the word.  I can live with that.

Our immediate family has a tradition concerning the making and using of Christmas lists that ensure that no matter how much or how little money is available for presents, there will be plenty of cheer, humor and love. I originally posted the traditions many years ago if you want to know the root of the hilarity that can be found here at our house. (Well, most years anyway as life does sometimes get in the way, especially when the deployment rotations come around or other mishap and mayhem. I wouldn't want to make our family sound perfect and completely idyllic (my kids would laugh hysterically because at least 75% of our lives is unbloggable... at least by my standards.)

The Christmas list affair for this year was pretty good. I won't post everyone's lists in their entirety but there are a few items that truly stand out. So as not to embarrass the offspring I'll allow the not so innocent to remain anonymous. (And no. They are not listed in any particular order. And yes, I'm cutting and pasting.)  :)

     ~ I want a clean room. [I had to laugh at this one]
     ~ Seasons of Vampire Diaries on DVD
     ~ Knives of the non-buttery variety
     ~ Vampire Diaries Poster
     ~ Edward Elric's Watch (he’s from Fullmetal Alchemist)
     ~ http://www.tungstenlove.com/vampire-diaries-elena-vervain-necklace THIS ONE I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT THIS SO BAD!!! [Sense a trend here?]
     ~ Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood seasons
     ~ Cool and interesting apartment illuminating items
     ~ That pen that scans a color and writes in it
     ~ Index cards. Like 200. In different colors
     ~ Fuzzy and/or sleep related items
     ~ The making of Harry Potter [book]
     ~ Tea
     ~ Teapot
     ~ Tivana Tea Gift Cards
     ~ Tea, tea, tea [It must be their father's English, Scottish and Welsh genes... mine all came from Quebec]

At least there wasn't a catapult listed this year.  Now, about these lists... one of our five daughters gave us her list three days before Christmas and Christmas morning she still got to unwrapped a 24 pack roll of toilet paper. (among other gifts) She laughed and said that she surely could use such a useful present.  We were pretty lenient this year, I think. Nary a jock strap in sight for any of our five daughters. A fact I'm sure that crossed each of their minds as they unwrapped each present. Ah the joys of parenthood!

I asked for Erin's list and she said she had given it to her father, so I had my husband email it to me (he was TDY in Florida at the time) and in it he included Rachel's Christmas List. I was happy. A two-fer so I didn't have to stress and send out 'the brute squad'...yet. Nor did I have to call the Emergency Stress Relief Hotline more than once or twice this season so far, so life is good. 

Unfortunately for Rachel, we found out three days before Christmas, whilst having her friends for dinner [No, they were not on the menu... they were our honored guests... um, they dined with us. Lord love the English language because I'm too lazy to go fix my grammar!], that the list her father had sent me... was from her Junior year of High School! [She is now a college Freshman].

Me to Rachel: "That's unfortunate for you as I've been using that list since October."

Rachel: "I didn't write a list this year. What was on the list?" 

After cranking up the computer, I read from her list at the dinner table.

Rachel: "I already have most of the things on it! There is only one thing on that list that I'd still like for Christmas."

Me: "Let me read you Erin's list as the two of you have several of the same things on these two lists. I'll see what I can come up with."

Well, since she didn't write a list this year, I guess it could have been a lot worse... for her. My husband and I could have put our heads together to create her list. That's the rules of this family tradition, after all.

Rachel glared at her father.

"Why did you send her that list?"

Husband: "I didn't!"

Me: "I have the emails right here honey." 

I probably shouldn't have thrown him under the bus like that and now that I think about it, I should go and apologize... maybe... a little later...

Husband: "I don't remember sending it. I only sent Erin's!" 

This time I was kind enough to change the subject.

Just in case you think this episode is truly over? It has become the gift that keeps giving. Let me tell you a little more about the events that are linked to that darn list, although I can only post the latter half of the adventure as the first half is a story best left for another day. I don't strive to be Tolstoy.

So Rachel's boyfriend and best friend were visiting and after she left the room, I told them that the only two things I had actually gotten off the list so far was a book I know she didn't have and the one item she had mentioned as a still viable Christmas List option. (I told them they could come over Christmas morning to watch if they wanted to.)

Her friends said they thought she would love it!

I showed her sisters this gift previously and they all agreed that she would love it!

On Christmas Eve I showed it to my husband and he also agreed she would love it!

...and then he handed it back to me...

...which is why what happened next was truly lamentable...

Yup. I promptly lost it among all the other presents I was wrapping. I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning searching for that darn thing. I removed EVERY item of trash from the trash bags. I looked inside EVERY plastic bag, container, box and paper to no avail. I tore the place apart and then finally I went to bed defeated. I then hoped that it might have gotten wrapped in with some other present so the next morning I explained that there was small gift that had gone on the lam and would they look out for it. I told Rachel that I would not tell her what it was unless no one else came to the rescue before every present was unwrapped.

Unfortunately, my bad luck was holding on to me like it was at a super glue convention and I was the test dummy. So I told Rachel what it was.  At first she was real quiet and then she said,

"And you lost it?" 

She truly would have loved it!

Everyone helped me look for it and when the search was fruitless, I went online and ordered another one so harmony was restored.  This definitely has a silver lining as it means she'll be walking down to the mailbox to get the mail every day until her present arrives.  It's all about the lemonade.

Still, I know there is hope that it will be found before we have to consider the milk carton route. I know this is true because I found the present Rachel had bought Nicole for last year's Christmas celebration whilst wrapping presents for this year.  What a year it's been!

Rachel was a great sport about it and a replacement is coming.

This year I bought all of our daughters union suits (or long handles, traditionally red with a butt flap, but does come in purple) along with thick woolen socks. (This is, after all, New England)  Dumbledore was absolutely right. There's nothing like a pair of warm woolen socks!

Erin was an enormous help this year and spent three days wrapping all the stocking stuffers... individually... even the crayons in the box were not spared her loving touch.  Her sisters watched her do this... for three days. So when Erin opened one of the gift boxes from Rachel, inside the lid was written:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This box was wrapped empty
Ha! You thought this would rhyme...

Nina was sort of picked on this year in a funny kind of way. I've already mentioned the toilet paper. Nicole and Rachel added their artistic skills and wrapped two bras that were gifts. (this is a family of women and my husband is trained to perfection not to blink an eye at requests to buy things like this before he comes home) It's definitely creative and funny as hell to look at when they were done.

When my husband came home with this tall Darth Vader (it's taller than the lamp) all I could think of was... well one of our daughter's did ask for an attractive male slave. Two out of three adjectives isn't all that bad, is it? Ok. Maybe that should be one out of three adjectives.  [If you are wondering what he is holding, it's a lego platform from years past. If you know our family at all, it won't come as any surprise that our family holds legos, books and chocolate sacred in this house. Not necessarily in that order].

Erin did not escape her father's warped humor as he wrapped the slippers from her list... individually (this is before he knew she had done the same to all of the stocking stuffers). But funnier than that, for Erin he wrapped a bunch of pennies in a box, and another box filled with tissue paper and although an accident, he wrapped and labeled three of the union suits meant for her sisters, as hers.  She was exasperated and told him she didn't need three union suits of various sizes.  The apple never falls far from the tree in this family.

Then I imagine the day continued on in the same fashion as everyone else. Those who were not in their 'jammies' put on their union suits and wool socks and on went the video games (which sometimes can be a wonderful spectator sport), our twenty something daughters pulled out our huge supply of legos (see Darth Vader), and the rest read new books until dinner time.  My husband made prime rib (because he didn't get to the butcher shop until it was closing on Christmas eve and they didn't have the spoon roast that he wanted, so instead they sold him a prime rib roast for the same amount of money! He does hunt and gather rather well, I must say) and although the beloved pumpkin cheesecake was missing this year, it was still a fabulous dinner thanks to my husband!

~~~~~~~~
I miss blogging. I miss the ability to write down all the wonderful blessings I have so that I can let go of whatever is stressing me at the moment.  The problem is... it takes forever for me to write it down and then go back and edit, edit, edit.  We're talking HOURS. Because to publish anything on the web is most likely to remain for my posterity.  I have stopped using facebook and news feeds because I have to face the fact that I am someone who becomes hyper-focused incredibly easily and when I glance at the clock, I panic when I realize that I've just lost four or five hours and have nothing to show for it in terms of housework, physical rehabilitation or just plain stepping out my kitchen door to walk down the driveway.

Unfortunately, this means I rarely write anything anymore and I feel like my life is less colorful than it use to be. There are other things that take priority these days and for the foreseeable future, so I think I will have to be content with whatever I can write, whenever I can write it.

Because I no longer have a following, I don't have to feel I've disappointed anyone by not being consistent. I remember more clearly that I started this blog so many years ago as therapy for the soul and it's ok if it only needs a cactus amount of water to flourish. It has gotten me through some pretty rough times as well as being a place to remember my blessings. Life is short. Live it out loud, in technicolor and with humor at every opportunity.

No quote of the day. Only a very heartfelt Happy Holidays to all who may drop by.

UPDATE: 28 Dec 2013 - Item was NOT found where I was wrapping presents. If I hadn't had the urge to clean out some boxes in the hall, I would never have seen it until I dusted. The last time I dusted was before the kids were born. My mother-in-law assured me that I would someday have a clean house when all of our offspring had left the nest. 

... I'm still waiting for that day and she's not around anymore to tell me when that day might be. It hasn't arrived and four of our kids are over the age of 18. I'm sure she would have laughed and told me that there will come a time when I miss them living at home. I'm beginning to have my doubts...

Test Warning...

WARNING: This is a test. This is only a test. Had this been a REAL emergency, you would have been directed to go to the nearest sound proofed room for your own safety (and possibly sanity)...

***REBEL, past caring who's eardrums are ruptured, YELL***

I guess this wasn't a test after all... oops, my bad.  My only advice now would be to get to a sound proofed room as quickly as possible or go get really exceptional earplugs.  These precautions may save you from rebel yells, profanities and possibly my colorful use of verbiage in the days to follow.

I'd like to be able to apologize for this interruption of (truly, I would) your work Face Book, work Twitter, work Tumbler, work Pinterest, work blogging, work gaming work internet surfing, work texting  and work sleeping (except if you truly DID need that 'Beauty Rest' or possibly a 'Pretty Nap' to function keep others from wanting to kill you), but I cannot lie.  I simply can't be sorry for that Rebel Yell...  in fact... it felt so good, I might even try it again (after my own ears stop ringing, that is) and again and again and a lather, rinse, repeat.

Thank you. I know 'I' feel so much better now. 

Lemon Stand 

PS: Unanswered questions that keep me from being able to sleep at night:

I wonder if OSHA will soon be knocking at our door... for noise pollution... along with the police for possibly disturbing the peace?

What's the punishment is for exceeding OSHA's standards for safe decibel levels for any humans, pets, plants and zombies that might be within hearing distance? 

I wonder if zombies have to pay taxes... because they are not quite dead, nor are they quite alive? 

I wonder if I could patent the sound as a vociferous form of torture?

Is there really only three things you can never avoid in a lifetime... death, taxes and zombies?

I will be sure to let you know when you may return to your regularly scheduled activities... until then, my recommendation would be to hide.  :)

QOTD:  "There are three times in a man's life when he has the right to yell at the moon—when he marries; when his children come; and when he finishes a job he had to be crazy to start."  ~ Borden Chase [Frank Fowler] (1900–1971), U.S. screenwriter

TELEGRAM FROM LEMON STAND:

Doing fine STOP Will be back soon STOP At the moment I sound like a duck being strangled STOP Rather slowly and with great malicious delight STOP Am one step away from the "shoot me now" stage of bad head cold STOP Courtesy of youngest of mongrel hoard STOP and two herniated disks in my lower back STOP courtesy of eldest of mongrel hoard STOP' I'm not dead STOP yet STOP but it IS time to go take some more 'good night Gracie' and grab another 587 pristine crisp white linen handkerchiefs from my dresser drawer STOP each embroidered in the corner STOP with bright red thread, mind you STOP with the letters P. M. S. STOP I kid you not STOP at least about the initials anyway STOP  Just ask Ruthie STOP There are six ladies (and I DO use that term rather loosely because IF cleanliness of boudoir were included within this description, well, let's just say they should be darned thankful I am too sick to reach for my thesaurus) living in this house now and there is not a microscopic-sized amount of chocolate anywhere on the entire property STOP  Unless you are a delivery service person of the aforementioned necessity STOP and actually HAVE the aforementioned necessity STOP  then  STOP  for your own personal safety  STOP  I would not suggest you physically cross our property line without a significant chocolate sacrifice arriving well before visitation  STOP  at least until hostilities have ceased OUT.

An Interesting Turn Of Events (At Least For Me)...

Anyone who has had the rather dubious honor of actually speaking with me, or perhaps communicating with me via email, has learned that my written words are not... well, normal.  'Not that I would know what 'normal' actually looked like, even if it bit me on my... ah, nose.'  When speaking, I have this really bad habit of starting sentences with... "however, comma, dot, dot, dot..." or ending them with "...period, full stop, end of story."  That is obviously NOT the way most people speak, not to mention all of those wonderful English teachers I had in Middle School, High School and College who are now rolling over in their graves at my grossly loose, use version of the English language.  See?  Even THAT sentence is not straight-laced, buttoned-down, proper use of the English language as taught by the public school systems in America (or at least I hope not).

When writing, I tend to write what I am picturing in my mind or feeling at that moment in time.  I think over the years, I have learned to share ideas ('Idears', for those of us up here in New England who add 'r's where they were not intended and drop them when we 'pawk' the 'caw') in a way that paints a sometimes way too vivid mental picture the intended victim recipient is supposed to see as clearly as I do.  Clearly, I have refined finger painting as a form of expression.

Then there is the problem with my wit with words.  Some find it humorous, while I do not find it quite so funny at the time.  I have realized I developed expressing myself this way to keep from offending or hurting others or I'm in full blown panic mode.  Rereading something I wrote later, sometimes feels like someone ELSE stole my crayon and wrote with it, freely embellishing descriptions in as odd a manner as humanly or not so humanly possible.

This probably is not making any sense at all to anyone but myself, that is.  It's sad to think I have been actively writing now for almost seven years about my very non-fiction life and have arrived at this point in time without evolving literarily at all.  (Yes.  I'm aware that the spell checker is gracing my scribbles with dire warnings of dire consequences in using words that don't really exist.  Be a rebel and ignore it.  I obviously do.)

So seeing as writing is my therapy for what ails me, you'd think that I could stay on topic.  Yakking on the keyboard (and I'll have you know that spell checker was eerily mute for the word 'yakking') and letting the words spew forth upon yon' (and spell checker is still quite silent) screen, really does not seem to be working very well for me at the moment.  My mind keeps wandering to subjects like vampires, ghosts, angels, brooding troglodytes, smart aleck (and may I say quite intelligent) women with a dash of witty reparte.  I evidently need to stop reading J. R. Ward.

I am a prolific reader, and unfortunately I read at a veracious (HEY!  That IS the correct spelling and usage of that word!  I've been gypped!  My spell checker is obviously substandard!) rate.  I'm pretty easy to please though since I will read just about anything except Stephen King-like novels in pretty much any category of the written word except Stephen King-like novels (Have I mentioned that I can not read Stephen King-like novels?).  I discovered the wonders of a library some time about Middle School.  (Yes, I know someone discovered it before me, but it was not real until "I" step through it's doors)  Suddenly there were new worlds to explore.  Elves, wizards and dragons to travel with, mysteries to solve, scary things to annihilate and history to be learned.  (I obviously did not discover the romance section until somewhere halfway through High School.)

I cut my teeth on The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.  Fell upon Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys like a starving, salivating pack of hounds on a very rare T-bone steak.  Then came Star Wars.  (I used to be able to quote by wrote the entire prologue of the first book.  Alas, my brain, over the years has been filled with so many stories that my memory occasionally does a dump to archive for some of the UBIs stored there.  That would be "Useless Bits of Information" for those that are acronym-challenged.)

And do you know what I have discovered?  My autobiography is the strongest sleep-aid known to man... even for me.  I really should patent it.  It could make me rich!  Somewhere over the last week or so I kept having to erase paragraphs of cool and interesting places and people to return to the boring life of moi... because that's what writing is all about, right?  I must be having a middle life crisis or something because I've decided I'd rather grow fangs, wear leather and ride a motorcycle, read all the non-fiction books in the Library of Congress, and discover where all the dragons hang out first.  (This is a test.  This is only a test.  If this had been a real emergency you would have been instructed where to go, how to get there and what to do once you got there.  NO!  I do not have fangs.  Or own leather pants.  Or a motorcycle for that matter.  And I do not know where dragons really hang out. (Although I have heard rumors they think people are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.)  Didn't want anyone thinking I've just jumped off the diving board of life into the empty, concrete swimming pool of reality. This is just me, making lemonade on a grey, cold, rainy, miserable day... maybe with a splash of vodka.  Za vas!  I may have to stop reading Christina Dodd, too. It's truly amazing the things you can learn from books.)

The really funny thing to me is that if I sit down to try and write really cool McGyverish kind of stuff, I come up with a completely blank screen.  If I try to sit down and write about the desert dry landscape of the real world and my personal phantasms, all I get is McGyver and dragons.  So it's official.  I have finally pulled into the train station at certifiable-ville.  Time to write myself out of a snowy dead end.

You will all be absolutely elated to know that I am not intending to ever share my fiction adventures, because I wouldn't want to give anyone reason to think I may have to be locked up I'm pretty sure authors of bizarre tales probably hide from their families... in a closet.  A secret double life.  See?  Now THAT sounds interesting... tapping on the keyboard that I had porridge for breakfast doesn't quite fire the imagination anywhere near as well as ghosties and ghoulies and wee little beasties, now does it?

If your imagination is as unmanageable and far-fetched as mine can be, then you can write your own new world all on your own.  Personally, I never thought I would get a kick out of the idea of inviting a character into a mythical place, torture it with either sappy or creepy (whichever it would hate most) and then either kill 'em off or have them ride off into the sunset.  I think I like the killing 'em off idea better, but who knows, it might be a warm and fuzzy kind of day so I wouldn't want to limit my options.  I guess I'm just mean like that.

Still, the reality is that I can't really live there, therefor I still have to make lemonade daily.  So, dot, dot, dot... Today is a Monday.  And it's supposed to be a humorous kind of day.  It's the law.  So it was amusing for ME to write about this interesting turn of events.  I might be getting just a little too much enjoyment from imagining my kids and their expressions and wondering just how much I can really weird them out?  This could take our family's dinner conversations to a whole new level! "Hey, honey?  How would you go about dismembering a werewolf?"  Or possibly, "If I wanted to make a guy REALLY squirm, I would make him [fill in the blank]!"

Hey!  It can actually be a two-fer.  I can torture the characters AND my family.  Now doesn't that sound like a win-win situation?  You can obviously see that this would not be a publishable book because I would do things to the characters just to annoy or creep out family members.  Really.  Ha!  I can describe love scenes to them... Remember these are the girls who absolutely do NOT want to know their parents even have a love life, much less their mother describing someone else's love life.  This really has the potential of being priceless.  Talk about some real Kodak Color kind of moments.

Ah, yes.  Life is definitely looking up...

Posts, Email, Texts And Twits...

My communication skills may sometime seem a little bizarre... at least from another person's perspective.  Looking at life differently, is therapy for me.  I try to go out of my way to look at things differently.  Why?  Because I was born a pessimist within a body that wants to be an optimist.  So I sorely try the patience of my family and friends.  Let me give you a few examples of this twisted bent in my thought processes...

My best friend Kelly, works part-time so there are times when I can not speak to her on the phone.  Since my kids have taught me how to text, I have been perfecting the art of this communication form by texting her at odd hours just to make her roll her eyes.  It's true.  I actually have a visual picture of this in my mind and it makes me laugh.  So I love to torment her with stray  texts, such as:

"Hello. Have you ever wondered why our American form of greeting rhymes with 'jello'?  Or perhaps that it starts with the word, 'Hell'.  Which, when you think about it, makes us all sound like we are jiggly or pessimistic..."

"Apparently I have been missing.  Just wanted to let you know that I have found myself. (Besides, I can't just say good night as that would be considered normal)"

I write posts like, "Conversational Ponderings..." and "Survival In The Wilderness Of The Internet..."

Sometimes, I even email friends with unsolicited advice like...

Are you ok? Just checking 'cause that last email had a microscopic bit of whining to it... I know being a military spouse is pretty difficult sometimes.  Especially when you can't always have him to yourself when he just gets home after a deployment because of kids and the in-laws from hell,  but I think if you do a little planning ahead of time, you both could come to LOVE the  parental visitations.  No, Really!  The next time your husband has to travel to go visit his family... all the way across the continent?  Find yourself a sitter, go with him and DON'T tell his parents you are even staying at the hotel with him.  During the day you can shop at Hot Topic and Victoria Secret while your husband has a great reason to look forward to going back to the room... no matter HOW his visit goes...
 
Lemon Stand

PS And just in case you've never heard this small bit of wisdom... A coat closet is kind of like that second parachute that jumpers have.  Use it ONLY in dire emergencies, but if that's all you got? Improvise, Adapt, Overcome.  :)

And now I am trying to learn how to Twit... conversations in 140 characters or less... We shall see, but I think I am up to the challenge...

Wednesday Was Created To Celebrate The Sense Of The Absurd...

The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it’s still on the list.

I didn’t say it was your fault; I said I was blaming you.

You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

The voices in my head may not be real, but they sure do have some good ideas!

Some people hear voices. Some see invisible people. Others have no imagination whatsoever.

If you are supposed to learn from your mistakes, why do some people have more than one child?

 

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars but check when you say the paint is wet?

When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

You’re never too old to learn something stupid.

We never really grow up; we only learn how to act in public.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

The Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good evening’ and then proceed to tell you why it isn’t.

A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

The Lemon Stand Vernacular...

What is 'vernacular' you say?

According to Dictionary.com one of the meanings of vernacular is "the plain variety of language in everyday use by ordinary people."  That was the simplest definition I could find.  The other online dictionaries had definitions but they sounded like gobbledygook to me.

What does 'gobbledygook' mean?  Well, again, according to Dictionary.com, gobbledygook means "...language characterized by circumlocution and jargon, usually hard to understand: the gobbledegook of government reports."

What does 'circumlocution' mean?  Well, we could be here all day at this rate and this is not my intended point of this post.  Oh, all right, just click on the link for the definition....

I love the word 'discombobulated' but Klaatu of Grey Matters commented on the last post: "Whenever I need to regain my combobulatedness, I stay in bed with kitties and books."  I didn't think I had ever heard 'combobulate' much less 'combobulatedness'.  Even my spellchecker is shrieking with it's dire warnings.

So I Googled it (I think most people can now say that Googled is in the modern vernacular) and came upon a very lively debate on the subject  Why Can You Be ‘discombobulated’ But Not ‘combobulated’? over at the blog 'Why?'.

I learned from this most wonderful post that apparently 'combobulate' is not part of the dictionaried English language.  For that matter, neither is 'dictionaried' in Merriam-Webster's Online English Dictionary.  At least, NOT at the time the post was written back in January of 2008 nor this one.

Even The Word Detective states that 'combobulate' is not a word.  The Word Detective is a cool little site I have just found (and joined) that answers any questions you might have about words.  If you want to take a look at what he has to say about 'discombobulate' or 'kittywompus' for that matter, then go to his entry titled, 'Book Em'.

Now I have wasted a crap load of time researched this odd duck of a word.  Combobulate.  Not as musical off the tongue as discombobulate but we will strive to make do.  Anything to pull me away from domestic goddess duties!

Combobulate IS, however, in a few online dictionaries, just not what I would describe as 'official' English dictionaries.  I even searched for combobulate in British English Dictionaries, Australian English Dictionaries and so on, just in case it had become official in any other English speaking country.  Like I said, I have wasted A LOT of time.

At Definition-of.com's Community Dictionary I hit the mother-load so to speak, where the definition of 'combobulate' is etched on my computer screen as:

"To put together in a somewhat mysterious manner. To bring something out of a state of confusion or disarray. To manufacture by some unusual or novel means."

They even go so far as to give examples of this fine word:

"We must think out-of-the-box in order to combobulate a solution to overcome all these seemingly impossible challenges."

And I just know you are dying to know that there is a second definition on this fine web dictionary...

To think extensively.  "I will have to combobulate for a while about my studies."

Now the online Urban Dictionary goes even further with this industrious word...  Just look how it has been fruitful and multiplied...

combobulate uncombobulated undiscombobulated discombobulated recombobulated rediscombobulated reundiscombobulated reuncombobulated

combobulated - The period before the feeling of discombobulation.

"Darn, I feel quite discombobulated right now, I miss being combobulated."

 What does 'industrious' mean?  Oh, never mind...

Am I the only person on the planet that becomes OCD over certain mysteries?  At least, if you have read to this point, you too have wasted a whole lot of time been elucidated.

Oh, and by the way Klaatu?  Your word STILL was not listed...

QOTD:  "We cannot hold a torch to light another's path without brightening our own."  Ben Sweetland, author

The Art Of Procrastination...

A few months back I promised myself that I would have all my Christmas shopping done by this weekend.  Instead I have been looking up quotes for my QOTD (quote of the day) just so I can avoid housework and shopping alike.  Please tell me I am not the only one out there that truly has talent in this art form...

    QOTD:

"My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season." Mary Todd Lincoln (June 1841, Her Life and Letters - 1972)

"Procrastination: A hardening of the oughteries." Anonymous

"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." Douglas Adams (1952-2001) English writer, dramatist, and musician

"Never put off till tomorrow, what you can do the day after tomorrow." Mark Twain (pen name of Samuel Langhorne Clemens) (1835 – 1910) American author and humorist

"When there is a hill to climb, don't think that waiting will make it smaller." Anonymous

"Much of the stress that people feel doesn't come from having too much to do. It comes from not finishing what they started." David Allen (1945 - ) Productivity consultant, creator of the Getting Things Done Time Management System

"Even if you're on the right track - you'll get run over if you just sit there." Arthur Godfrey (1903-1983) American radio and television broadcaster and entertainer

The Rest Of The Story...

I know that is is now past Veterans day, but a fellow blogger reminded me of this post.  I hope that he will post HIS original post but here is an interesting history lesson...





 


In the interest of angering the laundry Gods to whom I am supposed to be paying homage to by washing, drying, folding and putting away a gargantuan mountain of laundry (which I am still avoiding to post this) I was attempting to solve a little mystery. 

A Walk Down Memory Lane...

Since it has been so long since I have been able to read ANY of my old favorite blogs, I have been trying to see which ones are still around and sadly, many of them are gone.  Even more sadly... some of my favorite ones I used to love to comment on or link to in some of my old posts have... ::gasp::  forgotten The Lemon Stand.

No worries, at least not until my friends and family figure out I'm back and didn't send out the announcements...

Those who know me well, KNOW I suck at birthday cards, reminders (heck I can't remember the event most of the time!), congratulations, Christmas cards, letters and notes.  Unfortunately I was born without that gene in my DNA.  Blame it on my parents...  Looks like I will have to do some digging into my archives at home to jog some memories.  Let's see.  Who shall I pick on first? ::mischievous grin:

Well, actually...  I guess I have to play nice because lately I have REALLY been remembering a certain, mouth watering post by Sous...  So let me FIRST take you back to THIS PARTICULAR POST.  (Just don't blame me when you suddenly get the desire to run to the grocery store)  :o)

I have to do a little editing to the next post from the past but I figure as long as I am relearning how to work this blog with all the 'new and improved' software, these first few posts will work as my guinea pigs.  :o)  (By the way, have you ever noticed that when something says 'new and improved', it isn't or it is invariably more difficult to figure out?)

QOTD:  “We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.”  Jeremy Irons, British Actor (b.1948)