So, I was thinking about dirt. Why? Because I was sweeping (Swiffering) my hallway, which I have to do every other day. The air flow in our house ends in the hallway...It must end there because the dust bunnies congregate in the hall. Also, two dogs and a cat equals tons of hair inside my house. It cannot be escaped and I can never get completely get rid of it. Even after the animals are long gone, I will be remembering them with each piece of hair I pull from my carpets and blankets.
So - after sweeping my hallway and family room floors, I saw the hair and dirt I gathered and wondered if anyone else could top me. Can you come up with more dirt than me?
Since Buttercup is the baby (and bottom of the totem pole) she compensates by bossing the animals. Just because she says "move" doesn't mean the pets obey. Taking charge requires skills. Buttercup still has a lot to learn.
Sometimes taking charge isn't easy, especially when change is involved.
Taking charge can be difficult when someone's goals do not match your own.
Sometimes taking charge is EXTREMELY difficult, especially when someone is very reluctant to accept your decisions.
However, if persistent, those resistant will eventually accept your ideas and may leap forward with the changes. They will be full on board with your plans.
Of course, there is a fine line for those in charge - When do you Reign in and when do you let go?
In these instances its best to re-evaluate the purpose and decisions you've made before continuing on. And, sometimes its best to slow down and get everyone back on board again.
And sometimes, no matter what is done - things backfire and you are right back to where you started
Almost a year ago, Buttercup freaked me out while Dave was gone - you can read about it HERE.
Last night a similar situation occurred. Of course, Dave is conveniently out of town AGAIN and I am home alone to deal with monsters and all things good and bad.
At bedtime, I told Buttercup to run and put her pajamas on. She started forward down the hallway and then stopped. She turned and ran back to me. "I can't go to my bedroom all by myself. That scary looking thing was flying in my room last night."
"What?" (A creepy cold feeling descended down my spine).
"It is very mean looking with big teeth." She stated. "I lay there in my bed with one eye open to watch for it."
"What does this thing look like?" I asked, wishing Dave was home RIGHT NOW.
"It is a B I G, U G L Y, M E A N F I S H!!!!" Buttercup's eyes widened. "It flies around my room and tries to get me when I close my eyes. But, if you are under the covers, it can't get you."
Great, just great. Buttercup has my vivid imagination. It is the imagination that works overtime at night - in which scary things are invented. Oh no, it can't be a monster under the bed or one in the closet. It is some deranged piranha flying around her room.
As I tucked Buttercup in last night, she commanded me to lay down beside her. "Close one eye Mom and wait." We laid quietly for a while. "Do you see it yet?"
"No, sweetie. There aren't any mean flying fish. I promise nothing is going to get you." I kissed her good night and left the pink lamp on for her.
Apparently, big mean flying fish only show up when the room is dark. The lamp will be staying on for a while longer. The little nightlight I bought two days ago is not strong enough to repel the creatures hidden in shadow.
Dave gets home tomorrow. He's been fishing. I think it is time he came home and caught piranha instead of salmon.
Well, I grew some this year. I like to grow something slightly different every year. It's how I get my excitement. (sad, isn't it?)
Here they are next to some regular orange carrots. As you can see, the purple does not extend all the way through, but only exists on the outside of the carrot. I still think they were pretty neat and the kids really liked them. Jammin' thought the purple ones tasted slightly sweeter.
When I cooked the purple carrots, my water turned reddish-purple. And when I canned a bunch of them - the liquid inside was dark. I hope that next February, when I grab a can of carrots to cook, I'll remember I used purple carrots and not think the jars have gone bad. I don't know where purple carrots originated from, but Jammin' thinks that they are part beet. I would like to agree with him, but then I found THIS article. Turns out that carrots may have originally been purple and didn't turn orange until the 1700's when the Dutch decided orange was better. Those crazy Dutch - couldn't they have stuck to tulips?
Purple or orange, I grow carrots every year. I like to eat them but really, they are kind of a pain to grow for several reasons. They are hard to weed. When carrots start coming up they are so tiny and fragile and the weeds take over too easily. Corn, beans, and even lettuce are easier to weed than carrots.
Also, when it comes to canning carrots, it is hard manual labor. Wash, peel, wash. (did you catch the peel part?). Peeling home grown carrots is hard work. They aren't always nice long straight big carrots. I get crooked ones, entwined ones, three-legged carrots, and super tiny ones. Of course I could leave the peeling on, but for some reason, dirt really seems to stick to carrot peels, no matter how hard I try to scrub it off. So, canning carrots involves me standing/sitting over a bucket peeling. (some days I think I've joined the army).
But, it is all worth it in the end when I have cans of yummy goodness waiting for me during the winter. I pop open a can of my carrots, cook them up, and each bite reminds me of the summer garden. This winter will be the same. I just have to remember that I grew purple carrots. I'll grow them again next year of course, probably alongside some purple beans.
The rules: Pick two different genres - come up with a Title for the book and then write the WORST opening sentence for each one.
GENRE 1 - Science Fiction
A Picnic on Planet Mardat
Naxtromex, an ancient name for "nomadic traveler" on the planet Pylex, but only used by two distinct tribes, who now harvest the rare and highly addictive white mint, which is used as a sedative by members of the Zorelean society, who are the only people in the galaxy who can afford to purchase it off the black market, stood staring out the port hold window, which looked in the same direction as his home planet, but of course was now light years away, and wondered when and if he would ever again see his mother, who was not Pylexian but had heard the name Naxtromex from a water broker and liked it so much she used it to name her only son, not realizing it was the feminine form of Naxtromixe.
Genre 2 - Romance
Passion for a Sword
A burst of wind (stronger than a breeze, but lighter than a gust) picked up the recently fallen dainty lace handkerchief (which was now no longer white but dusted brown from the dirt where it had been dropped) and blew it up against the black boot (polished that morning to a high sheen using the Army's standard issue of boot polish) of Captain Jeremy Strong, who at once seized the symbol of flirtation with his calloused hands, and examined the pale pink initials CF, whose intricate needle point declared that the handsome young lady Charity Faith (who had long, soft, wavy hair the exact color of Strong's Golden Mustang, but of course did not smell the same) was its owner.
Now that Talk Like a Pirate Day is over and that scallywag trash-talking OTHER person is gone, I can get back down to business and normalcy.
First - Back in August, Nan at Life is like a Lunchbox had a really cool Summer Soap Celebration. It showcased various soap companies and included prizes. Well, guess what! I WON Contest #8!!!!
I received a cute little bag full of different types of Handmade, Natural soaps. Delicious smelling and pleasant to the skin. Thanks Country Scents Milk Soap Company!
Secondly, I participated in a Summer Book Swap hosted by Emma. I received a great book from La Bellina Mammina. I have to say I've never received a package from Singapore before, so I was just as intrigued with the stamps as I was the book! I can't wait to start reading this book - as it is all about the Cultural Revolution in China written by a woman who was accused of being a British spy. I am very intrigued, especially since I don't know much about China's history during those tumultuous times. (my husband and I saw a play, RED, based on that period. It was very good and I've always wanted to know a little more).
Third - I had to share a couple of KID CONVERSATIONS that occurred over the past two days.
I told Buttercup to get dressed Wednesday morning. She didn't want to so Dave said, "Buttercup, I'll go back and help you get dressed."
She took his hand and as they walked down the hallway, she turned to Dave and said, "Dad, you are going to pick out clothes and I'm going to say 'NO' to everything you choose."
And she did. Dave now feels my agony every morning.
Today I picked up Buttercup from preschool and as I was buckling her carseat, I overheard Mrs. Beige, the preschool teacher, ask another little girl, Ellie, what kind of car her mother drove.
Ellie thought for a moment and then said loudly, "She drives a DIRTY one!".
AARGH - Red Mary Flint here. What the hell be goin' on around here.
I be fittin to be tied. I step away fer lootin' and buckaneer business an' when I come back t' check on her she's gone all soft. What be that crap about Mr. Darcy. Whose that Mr. Thornton? A bunch o' sissies if ye ask me. She orn't to be keel hauled and strung up like the dog she is.
Keep t' the code, I told her, while I'm gone. Don't get all soft on me,
I says. A pirate's life be the only life. Did she listen t'
a word I says? Obvi'usly nay. Who needs a man when ye be havin' got the
seas in front o' ye an' a good blade o' steel in yer han'. Treasure an' adventure be the only thin's that matter.
So its a good thin' I came back when I did. I need t' whip this place
int' shape. Clear the decks o' all that lan' lubber stuff. Good Grief
this place be sof'ter than Cap'n Pussy Willows mind.