Should I Peel This Potato?

Word of the Post
Today's word is: tszuj
/zhoosh/ verb
Note: When pronounced, the beginning and ending sounds (phonemes) are the same, the 'zh' sound of the z in 'azure'. The spelling I gave is the preferred spelling, though the pronunciation guide spelling is also acceptable.
Definition: To style something or someone, as in hair; style up, tart up or mince, as in food preparation.
The origin of the word is from Polari, which is a slang mixture of several languages, including Italian, Yiddish, Cant and Cockney. It is primarily used in the gay subculture in Britain, and can be traced back to at least the 19th Century. Polari has been revived in recent years in America, because of the popularity of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" on TV. I have also heard Rachael Ray use this when adding hot sauce to a dish.
Sentence: "I want to tszuj your riah." This same sentence in English becomes, "I want to style your hair." The Queer Eye guys used to fluff the hair of a straight guy who was in the stylist's chair, and say "add a little tszuj."
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I suppose I should apologize to many of my readers. I have been very lax on blogging, and the reading of blogs. I have had a busy week. Last Saturday, I got a call from Monkey's Momma, telling me that her brother-in-law was in the hospital because he had a stroke that morning. He was in bad condition, and had to be taken by helicopter to the hospital, since they live so far out of Oklahoma City. She was coming from Texas to be with her sister at the hospital.

I am happy to say that, today, only one week after such a massive stroke, he is home again. He can now move his arms and legs, and stand on his own. He will have a little trouble and will need therapy to regain full use of his fingers (fine motor skills) and will also need speech therapy. But... he is on his way to a complete recovery. If he continues to improve in the same way, within six months, the doctors say they should not be able to tell that he had a stroke. Please praise the Lord with me for the answering of prayers on behalf of my friend and her family.

I have spent this week being available to Monkey's Momma, and RoadRunner, who needed childcare and emotional support. Emotional support and light housecleaning together are exhausting. My brain has been tired, and I have not had time or brain power to devote to typing for you. God's work never sleeps. So, today, I slept in. It felt good to know that I could be of help to a friend in need. This is one (the major) reason I gave up my paying job back in December. I love being the one to hold a hand through a tough time. God has made sure that I am available when He needed me to support His children.

Speaking of God's children, I also got to visit with Niki recently. She was in town for a camp. She was Head Female Counselor, and is a founding member of the staff for this camp. They were at my Alma Mater, Oklahoma Christian University, and we had a lovely visit over a quick dinner. Those times always move too fast. It was over before I knew it. I really appreciate Niki and her Godly influence on our friendship. I don't have many friends who will offer to pray over a meal in public. She honored me in that prayer, and I am truly thankful that God sent her to bolster me up. Jared also said "Hi" via a text message that day. Thanks to both of them, for reminding me that I am not alone.

For the second time in as many weeks, I have dared to trim my own hair. I don't normally cut the back of my hair, because I don't think I can cut a straight line across the back of my head. But, I was tired of the length and the look, and I just decided that I could go get someone else to fix it if I didn't like it. I regularly trim my bangs, because I have a couple of cow-licks that force me to cut my hair crooked to make it look straight. I have known how to deal with that for a long time. This time, I even figured out how to layer the back a bit. It is not totally crooked, so I suppose I did a good job. I did get the bangs too short, in my opinion, but they are not noticeably horrible. DH always laughs at me, telling me that I need not criticize my work. I can cut his hair any day, but mine I am even more picky about. I can't help it. Most stylists don't know how to deal with baby-fine hair. One little cut in the wrong place, and the whole "do" is wrecked.

The sunburn of two weeks ago is gone. I am now itching while peeling like crackled paint. My skin looks like dried soap. I have a couple places where I can see the "tan line" (if you can really call it that), and the rest is just as white as always, but with more and darker freckles. I have decided that RoadRunner and her kids must take me swimming more often this summer. I may actually be able to hold a little color, if I can add it gradually. Thanks to all who made lotion suggestions. I ended up buying one that has worked for me in the past, Coppertone's Baby Faces 50. It smells like baby lotion instead of a pineapple-coconut-banana (eeewwww, banana), I-am-sitting-in-the-tropics-so-I-should-smell-like-fruity-alcohol smell. I know I will be fine, especially if I keep applying it. I just need to remember that I am a piece of paper, and that paper burns quickly.

Madness And Mayhem

Word of the Post
Today's word is: educate
/ed"u*cate/ verb
To give learning to. I am doing this post to educate my buddy Monkey's Momma how to do this here blog thing.
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Earlier this evening, I have shown her how to move stuff around on the template, change the settings, and generally fiddle with stuff. We like punching buttons.

Now, we move on to the complicated move of adding pictures.

See? Wasn't that easy? You can do it too!

I hope that most of you don't think I am crazy. You should know by now that I am. I am really showing my friend how easy this hear blog thing is... she was afraid of the computer. But, in love, I am educating her.

That is all.

Keep it in Perspective. (borrowed without permission, got forgiveness instead)

Holy Cow, I'm White... Oh, And Nerdy

Word of the Post
Today's word is: effigy
/ef"fi*gy/ noun
An image, representation or likeness of a person. This could be a coin, a sculpture, a painting or a full-body token for burning in the public square. I wish I had burned my own effigy, rather than endure the sunburn I have.
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I am a bad influence. I am teaching my niece bad things. I taught her to say "Don't work too hard," as DH was walking out the door to go back to work. I taught her to put up her hands and say "Ta-Da!" when she has fallen down and gets up quickly and without injury. She already puts her hands in the air, and says either "Touchdown!" or "I did it!". I didn't teach her those.

My next project, much to the chagrin of my mother-in-law, will be to get her to say "Behave yourself" to her grandmother the next time we all get together. That is my mother-in-law's favorite goodbye tag. She says it to her own mother! So I think she should get a little of that medicine back. She will glare at me, and giggle at the granddaughter. But, I think it could be worth it.

Does anyone out there have suggestions as to which brand of sunscreen works for you? I have a bottle of Ocean Potion Anti-Aging Sunblock that is SPF 15 (I know that isn't much, but...let me 'splain). It says it is water/sweat resistant. A couple of years back, I remember a news story on the companies being required to change the phrase from Water Proof to Water Resistant. Something about water still actually took off the product. Anyway, this is what I used on Tuesday, to go swimming with RoadRunner and her little boy and his friend. We were not in the sun for two hours, and I might as well have had baby oil (to promote the burning) on for all the "protection" this stuff gave me. I am white ("whiter than sour cream" is a reality for me, I am a piece of paper, seriously) where I had swimsuit, and cooked-lobster RED where I did not have covering. My right shoulder is the worst. It hurts to reach up, because that crinkles the skin against itself. OUCH!

I know, I know.... water reflects and intensifies the sun. I know that. But we weren't even there for two hours. I have done four hours in the front yard with no shade, and gotten no color whatsoever with the same sunscreen lotion. And my legs, which got no lotion at all, are the same as they were. This is Soooo not fair! My face had this and a layer of some 40 stuff that RoadRunner had, so I was not looking like I cooked over an open pit. I now wish I had taken her up on the offer to get my back with her better lotion.

So, I am now killing Aloe plants to recover. I was told to put vinegar on my burn, that it would help me heal. I have heard that before, but I don't want to smell like a pickle. I would rather be sticky with Aloe, or use lotion with the healing power of Melaleuca oil (essential Tea Tree oil, so not an oil at all, but essence of no more pain) in it. And my freckles are looking quite nice. Paper, burn, freckle, peel, paper. Repeat. I have no color, and no way to retain color. This won't even give me the whisper of a tan. I may have lines for a week after the actual burn is gone. Then, it will be back to the diving board. For now, I wear light tagless T-shirts, nothing with straps, and wear a light jacket, lest I burn more whence I venture outside again.

I don't like summer. I don't hate it, but I really don't like it. Quoth Paul Riser in Mad About You: "No, I don't want to go OUT. That's where they keep the HEAT." I would love it if the world stayed somewhere between 55 and 75 all the time. A little rain shower, a little light snow, a little warm sometimes.... but nothing extreme. If it is going to be close to Zero, I want snow up to my knee. None of this biting wind and freezing rain. No more blazing, scorching hot days. There is a reason I don't live in Phoenix... 113 in the shade, that's the reason. But, 113 in the shade in Phoenix is much more tolerable than 92 with 89 percent humidity in Oklahoma. That whole "dry heat" thing is true. I have experienced both. Summer in Colorado, Winter in Phoenix. I would love that. Alas, that takes money I have yet to earn. Sigh.

So, what sunscreen works for you? Will vinegar really do anything? Where do you want to be when the weather at home is unbearable? I look forward to seeing your comments.

Turn With Me, If You Will, To Page Five Hundred Sixty-Five

Word of the Post
Today's word is: quicken
/quick"en/ verb
To come to life; to make alive, resuscitate; to stimulate or revive; to show signs of life; to move, as in a fetus in the womb. I remember a song in church about being "quickened from the dead", referring to Jesus. I also was influenced by the "quickening", which seemed to be the transference of life-force from one Immortal to another in the Highlander movies and series. There can be only one, after all.
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I am my Father's child. It drives me nuts when someone asks me to turn to the Page, instead of what they really mean: the Number. The songs are often placed more than one to a page, so a book with 900 songs can have a mere 750 pages. Yep, I am that crotchety old woman who insists that the English language be used correctly. How sad for me. One of the guys who leads singing sometimes says "Notice with me number..." That is cute. Different than anyone else, and probably more accurate.

Music is a strong signal of memory. For me it is second only to smell, and the two are very close. A tune can bring me back to a time in my childhood long forgotten. In our songbook at church, called "Praise for the LORD", there is a song that I have known pretty much all my life. The title is listed "Savior, Thy Dying Love", and is also more commonly known (in previous editions of the books?) by the title "Something For Thee".

Those of you who have not grown up knowing this piece from church would probably recognize the music if I could play it for you. Elvis Presley used a very similar tune for his hit, Love Me Tender. Now I know that I probably heard Elvis use this tune first, which is really funny to me. The tune was written in 1871, and the song lyrics we use in church were written in 1862. I know Elvis isn't near that old. He's 72, living out his life in some rural part of the country. Just makes it hard to concentrate on church services, when you have Elvis running around in your mind, singing Love Me Tender, and Blue Suede Shoes.

Mom is an Elvis fan. DH is a Beatles fan. I have found that people who like the music from the decade of the 60's are fans of either one or the other. It is very rare to find anyone who likes both equally. It becomes almost an argument about serving two masters... fans often love one, and despise the other.

I don't know why that really struck me today, it just did. Many times I find myself thinking farther back than music in my memory. A simple thumbtack, and I am thinking of watching my friend jump up off the staircase we were sitting on to talk, because she sat on one. I was about 5. Which leads me to think of the Vacation Bible School song about the Devil sitting on a tack if he didn't like us praising Jesus. (OUCH!) A cheap kid's perfume reminds me of the Christmas my cousin and I got matching presents. I can still see the perfumed spongy dabber, the silly comb that was shaped like a fudge Popsicle, and the matching dolls in different colored dresses. I don't remember liking that year, because we both wanted trucks, (neither of us was a girlie girl, we were both very tomboy at the time) and we didn't like the colors we were given. I think we even tried to switch before the day was over. We talked about it years later, and decided that the parents didn't want us feeling jealous of each other, but we felt we both lost out on the specialness of thought toward our gifts.

There is a group of people at church who are learning new songs written by a man who lives in St. Petersburg. He has written whole symphonies to God in Russian, and many of the songs he has allowed to be translated into English. He visited here about a year ago, and he had a group of his music students with him, to sing for us. His music is phenomenal. There are not words to describe it, truly, until you hear it. He spoke in Chapel at Oklahoma Christian, and said (in complete honesty, and with all frustration) that when our groups went to his school in Russia, that it was neat to have us there, but our music was terrible. Knowing the Contemporary Christian stuff they are promoting these days, I would agree with him. I sing whatever I don't hear, so I am learning these in Soprano for now. I will move to Alto (more my comfort zone) when we get more Sopranos learning, or we get the whole congregation singing them correctly. I really love being in a group again. I would even be willing to perform, given the right situation.

On a totally unrelated topic, I never had indoor pets as a kid. Mom was allergic to the cats I wanted. We always had outdoor cats, because mom would let us feed them dry food sometimes, and of course, they would just stick around for the free lunch. I feel lucky to have indoor cats now, I love having something to purr next to me when I am feeling lonely, or to make me laugh when I am feeling depressed.

The rescue, Marvel, is my sweet boy. He is very happy with his schedule (not pronounced with the K sound in it, but like shed-ule, imagining Rush Limbaugh and his fake British accent) around here. Eat, drink water dripping from the bathroom faucets, run like mad all over the place, beat up the sister, and nap. (Lather, rinse, repeat.) He is always so clean and soft, it is amazing. Here he is being a 12-pack of Dublin Dr. Pepper cans.
Little Girl, Mystic, is just the cutie pie, who makes you want to pick her up. Which she doesn't like, so she squirms to be released. She does a push-twist-stretch that would be perfect for Cirque du Soleil. We fondly call her "Princess Touch-Me-Not". She is very good at knowing just how far away she can step, so that you can no longer reach her, then turning and looking at you. It is as if she is challenging you to try it again. This is Mystic, from the comfort of being in my way.
This is their mutual favorite spot, on top of the thing I am looking for or the thing I am using. This bag is permanently their property, so I guess I can't ever throw it away. Not that I want to, it is a good bag.

Look for your memory triggers. Is it music, smells in a kitchen, or the sounds of traffic rushing by? Is it something that you do the same way as someone taught you? Is it the thing that you once said you would Never do? Take some time today to remember more innocent times, and see if you can learn something new from your past.

Cleanliness Is Next To Impossible

Word of the Post
Today's word is: circumlocution
/cir'cum*lo*cu"tion/ noun
An indirect style of speech; a roundabout way of getting to the point; filibustering.
Politicians have this down to an art form. Wait, I miss-spoke. Politicians have this UP to an art form.
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I have been terribly busy. So busy that, without realizing it, I have done virtually nothing.

That is the part of my life that I don't like to project. I am a procrastinator. I put things off until the last moment possible, and then rush to get done what could have been done well, and long ago. I am also a perfectionist. What cannot be done right, cannot be started at all. The two work closely to make my house a mess and my life a misery.

Monkey's Momma and her family have decided that this is to be a summer of Habits. They are learning how to get up every morning, and do specific things. They are learning to make the bed every day. I wonder why, really. This is silly to me. I am just going to get back into it tonight and muss it up again. But, they think it is necessary. I should learn from this. They are also learning to wash the dinner dishes when dinner is over. When you are excused, you get up, and clean your dishes. This prevents large pile-ups of dishes for Momma to clean. I need to learn this too. I hate doing dishes, mostly because I do large piles of them at a time. If I would do a little at a time, I would not have to worry about the big backache from lots of dishes.

Actually, I have decided that I will take a hint from my mom, and from Monkey's Momma. I am writing down what I want to do each day, but I am also writing down what I have done each day. This way, I see my goals in a tangible form, and I see my accomplishments as well. Then, I determine to do at least one hour of work every day, as habit. I can do it all at once, or 10 minutes at a time, but I must prove one whole hour each day. This is to keep myself busy, and not bogged down in the office trash pile for days at a time. I am also looking at Flylady.net. If you have ever had a dirty home, this is your rescue. She has simple, tested patterns of working through your house to get it all sparkling and neat, in case surprise guests show up on your doorstep... like me.

I want to know how you keep your house clean. Do you have an army of children doing chores? Do you hire a service to help you? What is your secret to a clean home? I want to get my home cleaner, and ready for company. I want to organize and streamline the clutter I have allowed to build in my house. Flylady calls it C.H.A.O.S. ~~ Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome. Believe me, clutter is truly chaotic.

Have you seen the movie "Office Space"? This is the view of the intro to that movie. The main character is stopped in heavy traffic, and angry that the guy with a walker on the sidewalk is going faster than he is. The city they used for the skyline view was Dallas. DH thought this would be a good picture to have. If you look closely in the movie, you can see the sign for the exit to Preston Road. I have a better picture of that sign, but this is the whole view captured here. This area has exploded in the 8 or so years since filming "Office Space", but it is still impressive. If you have not seen the movie, word of warning here, it has a lot of cussing. Not something you want small children seeing, because they will repeat all of the words you just mentally edited. As an adult, the premise is still funny, mostly because it is so true.