Akismet has saved this blog from getting 74,000+ spam comments which run the gamut from vile to ridiculous. Most are either perverted or hawking pharmeceuticals.
But this new tactic, for these crawling-robot spam-leavers, is to write very sweet words, very encouraging messages about some post or another. You are supposed to believe that a person has actually read and commented and is not just trying to drop their sales-link in to my blog comments where some unsuspecting reader can be roped in. Cannot be very effective marketing, can it?
But I wasn’t born yesterday. I don’t believe for a second that hearing, “Your opinion on this topic was the best I have ever heard” was really meant for me and my blog when it came in the post “Cake Buns,”which was just about the baby shower cake and had lots of pictures. No, that didn’t seem quite real.
One “crawler actually said: “We was actually happy with your website. We only submitted this internet site to Digg. You write good, but need more pictures.” Ha! More pictures? Good googa-moogas. WHERE would I put them???
Or when I get one for the post, “Heaven Fest 2010 is on Longmont, Colorado ” which is talking about, yes, Heaven Fest (www.heavenfest.com), and the “commenter” says, “Well said! If I could write like this I would be well pleased. The more I see articles of such quality as this (which is rare), the more I think there might be a future for the Net. Keep it up, as it were,” frankly I have to be suspicious. That was not good writing. Just relief. on my part about permitting Also, his website, attached to the comment, was a vile one…so I doubt he is rejoicing with us over this victory. Although I did appreciate that my talent alone might mean there is a future for the “‘net!” Ha!
But today actually made me laugh. Out loud.
“Are you a professional journalist? You write very well. I read countering arguments and I was on their side and now I read your opinion article and I am leaning your way, but am going to do some study and make my decision. But I will bookmark your sight for your writing and leaning.”
That spam-comment was for the post “You may quote me on this.” Left by a Viagra-hawker. I don’t think he really read that “article” and if he has to think about how to choose “sides” on it, he is not thinking with his brain. At all. May wanna back it up on those drugs, buddy.
Averi is sprouted ponytails and bananas and cream oatmeal with blueberries on the side. She’s “I’ll do it myself” in her big girl panties and scrunchy-faced smiles. Averi is red-flannel pajamas and cheeks that won’t quit. She’s “Rocky? Rocky!” when calling for her beloved daddy’s attention and she is 2 going on 32. Already a pro at being a bit of a sassy, independant and directive firstborn, new baby Rhoades (due any second now) will already have her life’s itinerary planned out for her…by Averi.
But oh when she stops to have a little conversation and thens melts into you with a committed hug, {sigh} Averi…what a surprise!
G is for Gavin
G is for Gavin who is growing up fast. He is all boy and football and friendship and freckles. He has loose teeth and thick hair and he’s white, but that kid can jump! He is responsible and organized and such a wonderful big brother. He is 6 and he’s 1st grade and he holds my heart and my confidence like no other. He is the firstborn, the firstfruit, the heir to it all. Zealous and hard-working, he is always ready to tear into whatever project I have wondered about starting with his “let’s get to it” attitude. And he said to me last Sunday, “Nonna, I sure wish we had some garden tomatoes. Maybe this week we should start gardening?”
The boy is a genius, I tell ya! He knows the best of everything and loves tomatoes like me!
G is for Guinivere
I love the flower girl. And that is my Guini. She tip-toes through the tulips and petunias and orange daylilies right into my heart. We play school and she ever-so-meticulously colors hers papers until there is not a naked spot left or until the washable Crayola marker she is using has run completely out of ink! And while she works on her masterpiece, she peppers me with the important things in her life. “Hey, Nonna, can I watch some Sprout when I’m done with this?” “Hey, Nonna, can I have some popcorn? Oh wait – do you have crackers? I LOVE crackers!” “Hey, Nonna, we got a trampoline and I can jump really high.”
And a couple of weeks ago when I asked her if she got to eat some of the Oreo/chocolate-chip/milk-chocolate mousse I had sent to her house (leftover filling from Jovanie’s cake). She clarified, “The cookies in pudding?” An oversimplification, if I do say so, yet she warmed my heart withher enthusiastic review, “Oh, it was TASTEEEEE!!”
G is for Gemma
For Gem-Gem, not only is everyone she meets her newest and bestsest friend in the world, everyone she meets is also an audience for her interpretive dancing, for she lives to make people smile with her art. But not “Miss Hannigan.” “I don’t like Miss ‘Cannigan’, Poppa. Miss ‘Cannigan’ is a bad person,” her little voice quivers in fright as she speaks of the orphange-woman in the Annie play. Gemma is spunky and two, a little lamb and a tiny dancer. She is cuddly and independant and will smile for any reason she can find. She performs and she sings “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow,” with arm flailing exuberance.
She is our own Annie, our very own Fancy Nancy with maybe a smidge of Pippi Longstocking mixed in! She makes my heart giggle!
H is for Hunter
Hunter’s a thinker, a little guy who reasons big. He’ll argue his point until you give in by sheer exhaustion. He is right when he’s right and right even if he is not. He is as smart as a whip and smarter than most adults. He will call you on every inconsistency, hypocrisy and duplicity. The kid is cute and loves his cousins, his mama and the world. He has already planned his life’s path to fly mission supplies around the world where he will be able to speak all languages fluently and touch the world for Jesus. He is currently in love with theater due to his poppa being in Annie and enjoys theatrically answering “yes” questions with a big, long, loud, “You’re daaaaaarn tootin’!”
When I said I needed to snap some photos for a blog post I’d written about them all, Hunter turned to Gavin with the wary look and said, “That’s what she always says.” Hunter is the Little Prince, wise beyond his years, fit to rule the kingdom.
Soon? Our alphabet will be turned upside-down with a brand-new bebe! Any second now…
I love coffee, but I am not a coffee snob. I mean, I grew up in the Folgers era and still like their commercials (plus they signed Danny Gokey on for a jingle contest, so, you know). I love Starbucks, but I grab coffee from McD’s and Del Taco sometimes, too. I mostly like like it plain, black and piping hot, but occasionally imbibe the icy Caramel Frappucino as dessert. And I prefer the bold, strong blends, although while in Maui 2 years ago, I became thoroughly addicted to the gentle Kona. I know these things:
I love the smell of the house as it brews and the morning ritual of it means more to me than the flavor of it.
Enjoying it with friends at a shop in the middle of any day is a major treat.
Some people take it all way too seriously.
Those things said, here are the coffees I had to choose from this morning when I opened my cupboard:
Great Value Decaffeinated. Why ever do de-caf? The CAF is what makes it great. But because I am a caring person, I keep a can around. Some people prefer it. But I must not be that caring or else it wouldn’t be Wal-Mart’s “Great Value.”
Archer Farm’s French Vanilla. This is Stormie’s coffee of choice. She adds all the cream and sugar and gooeyness to it she can. I am not a fan, really, and sadly whenever she brews it, my next pot of plain. black coffee is French Vanilla, too. It lingers.
Archer Farms Pumpkin Pie Spice. Dave bought this for me because I do go a teensy-bit crazy over Starbucks’ Pumpkin Spice Lattes when they arrive each fall. Here at home, though, I drink it black and though the picquant is pleasing, still, it does rather pale to the cream and sugar and whip-cream-on-top version. But drinking it this morning as I write, that seems appropriate. For it is sunny and bright and spring-y and not the warm, heavy comfort drink of autumn.
Folger’s Classic Roast Instant Coffee. Why? Well, have you seen the library episode of Seinfeld? The one with the library investigator, Mr Bookman? He made a compelling case for having a jar. So I complied.
Barnie’s Coffee and Tea Company Santa’s White Christmas. It is a bit much. It has actual white chocolate shavings in it and vanilla, I think. It smells wondrous while brewing, but I almost always regret drinking it.
Boyer’s Coffee Supreme Blend’s Rocky Mountain Thunder. From our very own, local coffee company, a really dark roasted, rich and strong brew. My current coffee of choice almost everyday.
Inventory complete. For now.
Library Investigator Scene: Mr Bookman
Note to self: More coffee out with friends! And kids.
In the early morning dark, when you shouldn’t really be awake, I reach over and feel Dave’s temporarily-bald head.
“You feel like GI Joe,” I tell him, referring to those really great GI Joe dolls of the 1960s that looked like Rock Hudson and had this short, fuzzy hair. Dave has 2 days’ growth.
“You can be my Barbie,” he replies, referencing the fact that when I played Barbies with my friends as a young girl, I let the others have Ken and opted to use my bothers’ GI Joe as my particular love interest.
In totally unrelated news: And, by the way, I got to see the colorful, bright and delightful Carol Channing star in “Hello, Dolly” in the 90’s. It was soooooo cool!
Dave with hair, in the kitchen; Dave without hair for his performance in Annie, onstage.
NOTE: He is rumored to have been advised to start growing his hair long, really long – which he is able to do easily, for a possible starring-pirate kind of role next year. People, I implore you! Did Carol Channing ever have to change her hair this much?
Longmont is a beautiful city with an amazing view of the Rocky Mountains. We have been in a most incredible location and it has been “home” (on the Northern Hills Church property www.northernhills.cc). What a blessing that has been. The drawback has been the 2-lane highway which makes for crazy long car lanes in every direction. Traffic flowed very smoothly…just very slowly this past year when we had 22,800 people there all at once!
This new property is a beautiful park and reservoir with lots of farmland, which is going to allow for “raw” camping. It is just west of I-25 on the north side of the 4-lane highway 119. 70+ bands on 7 stages, interactive worship, a Petra reunion…come on. Start making plans! WE GOT OUR PERMIT TODAY!
A partial look at what you’ll see.
Remember 2008 – our first year? We did this the day we got our Adams County Permit LESS THAN A MONTH out from the festival!
We’re still together. Still going strong and doing the happy dance. Still love each other! The GREATEST miracle of all!
The 2 Movies You MUST Watch for St. Patrick’s Day Celebrating~
THE QUIET MAN {1952}
If you can see one and only one movie during the month of March, I must insist, for your own good, that it be The Quiet Man starring John “the man” Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. Oh yes. I must insist.
John Wayne plays a disgraced American boxer who returns to Ireland to reclaim his homestead. Maureen O’Hara plays the part of a poor, young maiden/”spinster” who catches his eye. The movie follows the tension-filled and spicy relationship that forms between them as they both struggle to maintain control while her brother tries to keep them apart.
There is a cast-full of charming villagers, the matter of a dowry, advice on the duties of a married wife, some kissing and a slap, a kiss in the rain at a graveyard (note John Wayne’s nice silk shirt), Maureen O’Hara’s enviable red hair, the wedding night and the broken bed, a drunken brawl that has everyone placing bets, the townspeople helping the Reverend look good, and the importance of a good Matchmaker.
John Wayne is beautiful in this one, a perfect mix of testerone and tenderness, manliness and mild-mannered good graces. And don’t forget the shirt and the kiss in the rain!!! Watch for this fun line from the Matchmaker: Impetuous!
Just see it. Really and GOD BLESS ALL IN THIS HOUSE!
FAR AND AWAY {1992}
If you can see only two movies during the month of March, the second must be, without question, Far and Away starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.
Though pretty much critically panned, it is majestic in its’ panorama taking us from Ireland to New York during the great days of immigration in the late 1800s and finally to the legendary Land Race of the Oklahoma-territory. Add to this beauty, Tom, playing Joseph and Nicole, playing Shannon, as the poor potato farmer thrown together with the sassy, well-to-do land lord’s daughter and the adventure begins! Attempting to hide their growing attraction under the cover of hostility, the movie spans thousands of miles and many months culminating in the grand feel-good scene at which two of the movie’s taglines hint:
“They needed a country big enough for both of their dreams.”
and
“He left behind everything he knew for the only thing he ever wanted.”
Ron Howard directed and I love the history it reveals, but it is really about the story, the relationship between a red-headed Irish girl and a hard-headed boy, and about a dream. See it. Seriously.
6 Other Movies with a Bit ‘O the Irish in them:
WAKING NED DIVINE {1998} What if you won the lottery and then died from the shock of it? Cute, charming and set in a tiny Irish village of less than 50 people.THE SECRET OF ROAN INISH {1994}“It’s a beautiful story.”AUGUST RUSH {2007} starring Jonathan Rhys Meyers who is Irish and very cute and some girl. Beautiful movie about music and sound and song and love…THE FUGITIVE {1993} starring Harrison Ford has an “escape” scene in Chicago’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade which is helpful to him… THE COMMITMENTS {1991} I haven’t actually seen, yet, this movie about a band in Ireland, but have it on order from Netflix because I hear it is good… ONCE {2006} A quiet, beautifully melodic story that takes place in Ireland. For the music alone it should be seen more than once!
Three Meals You Can Eat~
Lucky Charms for breakfast. Corned Beef Sub for lunch. Runza {aka Nebraskan Mystery-Meat Sandwiches} for dinner.
The clothes you could wear.
4 Fun things to do.
Kiss an Irishman.
Read The Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy
Get an Irish-themed tatoo.
Attend the 48th Annual Denver St. Patrick’s Day Parade on March 13th at 10am
No, I am not Irish. But I do watch The Quiet Man once a year and I am making Wrex some Wrunzas and wearing green on the 17th ~ which makes me pretty darn blustrificating, if I do say so myself!
Blustrification: the action of celebrating boisterously
1982 when I was pregnant with Stephanie. I’d never had more than a cheeseburger and small fry at a fast food, but Dave insisted I try it and I LOVED it! I actually got addicted to them. Now I just get Whopper Juniors, but, mmmm…charbroiled!
First Big Mac
NEVER! Two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun? It’s the onions. I cannot take them, plus McDonalds? Ick. And-I consider this the one thing that makes me unique in any way. I have never had a Big Mac. And I never shall.
First full sentence
“I’m gonna go to church!”
I don’t say that nearly as much now – to the great concern of my grandchildren who have asked their parents, “Why doesn’t Nonna go to church?” And to the amusement of Rocky and Tristan who said to me a few weeks ago when I arrived on a Sunday morning, “Good to see you here. This is the result of a lot of people praying.” Yuk-it-up, boys.
Once a church girl, always a church girl. No worries, people.
First plane trip.
I was a senior in high school. I went back to Louisiana after our family had moved to Gary, Indiana because my HS credits didn’t transfer correctly and they were going to make me go all year long. So I finished up back in Hammond. I hung out with Cheryl Bardwell. And Ginger. I met a guy I almost ended up marrying (breaking it off 3 weeks before the wedding is “almost” right?) and I had my first taste of living far away from Ross-the-Boss, Mrs-Moss and the-rest-of-the-Little-Landers. I worked at The Sonic Drive-In for 1 day and finished high school.
First poem I ever wrote
I love my daddy
I want my daddy
I go to see my daddy
He picks me up to love.
~by me at barely 4. It was my first and probably my best. Ever.
First shoes with heels
3rd grade. I started young. They were 1 1/4″ high, navy blue with a cute bow. The first of many. I do not love all shoes like some women, but when I love them, when I have formed the strong emotional connection, they will forever remain in my heart. I will know where I was was when I got them, what the occasion was for looking and the special places they carried me. Oh, yes, I will.
First…(you may not want to know)
Ok, disclaimer. If you are easily embarrassed, don’t read this girly fact. My first period (as in menstrual, not high school schedule) started on David Cassidy’s21st birthday.
First speeding ticket
2 1/2 years ago. I said to him, “Seriously? I am 47 years old and I have never had a ticket!” very decidedly implying he was not going to get away with giving me one because of my very clean record.
The officer very coolly replied, “Only Jesus was perfect.” How did he know that was the one thing I wouldn’t argue with? I still totally disagree that I was going 32 mph over the speed limit. Totally. Disagree.
First job
Working at the church day care center watching pre-schoolers. Unless you count babysitting church people’s kids as a young teen. Which really wasn’t much more money than I’d made gathering sparkly rocks from a shared alley and selling them to my neighbors for candy money when I was 7. So that was it, I guess. Selling rocks.
First movie in a theater
“Gone With the Wind.” I got in so much trouble. It was a school trip tied in with our Civil War series in Social Studies. And I wasn’t allowed to attend movies (church rules, you know), but I did and doggone it if a man from church didn’t see me and tell my dad. Big trouble. But I don’t regret going now. I so appreciate the accuracy with which the Civil War was depicted, the raw and realistic portrayals of Rhett and Scarlet and how I still look at nice drapes for the amazing outfit I might be able to get out of them. Yes, I attribute my above-average resourcefulness to “Gone with the Wind.”
First kiss
Jimmy Green behind the North Pine Church of God in Davenport, Iowa. 1972. And for you inquiring minds? I kissed him. He didn’t know what hit him.
First time in the mountains
I was 11. My parents, my 4 siblings, my aunt and uncle and my 6 cousins and I drove from eastern Iowa to Colorado and camped in the cold Rocky Mountains. There were flower children and hippies everywhere and I loved it. The flower children and hippies are still here getting their Rocky Mountain high, but they are very old now.
First time in the ocean
Spring 1977. My dad let us skip school and we drove to Gulfport, Mississippi (Let your love flow…was playing on the radio) where I remember beautiful white sandy beaches and an ape that spat on my sister in some gas station animal viewing place. Good times. And yes, the Gulf counts – it is still part of the Atlantic.
The First Time Ever I Saw His Face
August 1978 when I first went to Northwest Bible College. I met him by the fountain and he was very shy and I liked to tease him about the girls he liked so I could see his dimples. Though we wrote friendly letters for a couple of years, he didn’t officially ask me out until May 26, 1981. It took him awhile. But we got married less than 2 months after the first date, following the Biblical admonition that it is better to marry than to burn.
First blog post
November 29, 2006. It was so scary. I was afraid to hit the post button. I was afraid to say anything because some one might actually see it. But after about 4 or 5 months, the graphomaniacal tiger in me had been released, never to be recaptured. And on it goes. Everything and waaaaaaay more than you can possibly believe is Mod-Podged onto the collage that is my thought collection.
“It’s a cake day” definitely does NOT have the same meaning for me as it does for most people. “Cake day” for me means I am doing a special-events-celebratory-by-request-decorated cake. Each one of these has the potential for great disaster. Never more than this one I will be attempting today and tomorrow. I have researched similiar cakes to this (diaper-cake) design, requested by my beautiful Jovan. I have found 57 photos. 3 are cute. ONLY THREE! The rest are hilarious disasters. {shaking my head} We shall see…But for Jovanie (who once talked me into a Barbie cake!!??…see below)? Anything!
I am playing my Three Dog Night’s Greatest Hits on the turntable – yes! NOT an MP3, an actual old-fashioned LP record – VINYL, people! Good times! The slight scratchiness adds to the experience.
Did Paul Williams (who had sort of a froggy-puppet look) write good lyrics or what?
Just an old-fashioned love song playin’ on the radio
And wrapped around the music is the sound
Of someone promising they’ll never go
You swear you’ve heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on
No need in bringin’ `em back,
`Cause they’re never really gone
Just an old-fashioned love song
One I’m sure they wrote for you and me
Just an old-fashioned love song
Comin’ down in 3-part harmony
To weave our dreams upon and listen to each evening
When the lights are low
To underscore our love affair
With tenderness and feeling that we’ve come to know
You swear you’ve heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on and
No need in bringin’ `em back,
`Cause they’re never really gone
It is a brilliantly sunny day and just as I was about to toss some onions from the produce drawer (the last of 2009’s onion bounty from my own garden) because they are starting to sprout, I realized it is not too early to go push them into the garden soil where they will grow for this year! Happy! Happy! Happy! Almost made me forget I can’t breathe and my throat hurts and (after 2 weeks of this) I have to go to the doctor’s office later.
