Seven Questions I’d Like To Ask My Dog

 

1. The cat threw it up. And you still ate it. Now, stop and think a minute. Don’t you think there may have been a reason why she threw it up?

2. Yes, we typically feed you after you’ve been outside. And yes, your food bowl is empty. You eat twice a day, approximately every 12 hours. But by asking to go outside, again, just after you’ve eaten, and then running to your bowl to see if maybe we’ve put more food in it – do you really think we’ve forgotten that we’ve just fed you and you need to be fed again? Really?

3. You’re fixed. That special part of your anatomy is not even there anymore. Why, oh why,  do you still want to hump the leg of my daughter’s friend?

4. Along those same lines….. I know it is natural for you. But it is not natural for humans. So, could you please stop sniffing every visitor to our home in the crotch area? Pretty please?

5. You bark at the mailman but not the UPS man. Is there something you know that we don’t? Should we be concerned?

6. We just took you for a long walk. #2son played with you in the back yard for an hour. You follow me into every room of the house and I always stop and pet you and talk to you. You curl at my feet while I’m writing blog posts and I never fail to give you a little love. Yet you still act as if we never pay attention to you. Will it ever be enough? Ever?

7. It’s your crate. Your little sanctuary. We leave the gate open because we know you love to sleep in there, even though you don’t really need to be crated anymore. So, let me reiterate, it’s your space. Why do you let her push you around?

Charles Darwin For Congress! If I Had Lived In That District He Would Have Had My Vote.

Charles Darwin is alive and well in the state of Georgia.

That is, if by “alive and well” you mean “in theory.”

Rep. Paul Broun decried evolution, the Big Bang theory and other scientific discoveries as “lies straight from the pit of hell!” Granted, his audience was a church group. But in the age of Twitter and YouTube you need to be a little more careful about what you say in public.

Republican Representative Paul Broun was running unopposed in the 10th Congressional District in Georgia. But I knew nothing of the man since I don’t live in his district. (And the fact that I’m not very political, which is a nice way of saying I’m too self-absorbed to follow politics.)

I educated myself on the man this morning. Here is what I learned:

He is a nut.

I was going to list his crazy voting record, his fourth marriage, his feeling that Obama is a Marxist dictator. You can read about it all here. Suffice it to say, he’s crazy.

And he was re-elected. And is representing Americans in our government.

It’s a sad, sad day, indeed.

While watching the election returns (TV muted) I saw the results flash on the screen, Paul Broun 57% and Charles Darwin 0%. I thought, poor Charles Darwin. Named after a famous British naturalist and he still can’t get a vote. And then I thought, how horrible that his lack of popularity has to be broadcast so blatantly. But then I saw Obama gaining ground on Romney and I was distracted again.

I forgot about it until this morning.

An article on an online news magazine got my attention. Jim Leebens-Mack, a professor at the University of Georgia, started a Facebook campaign “Darwin for Congress” as a response to Broun’s ridiculous church-evolution rant. As a result, Charles Darwin received almost 4,000 votes. Not enough to beat Broun’s 209,000 (scary) votes, but an admirable showing, all the same. Especially since Darwin would have to be a party to Congress from the grave. Or the great beyond. (I embrace all theories of the life in the hereafter.)

Even more amusing are the other write-in candidates that peppered the ballots: Big Bird, Anyone but Broun, Anyone else, and Bill Nye The Science Guy.

Apparently, these voters were just as upset but unaware of Charles Darwin’s bid for election.

Too bad.

Maybe Charles would have had a chance.

You Mean There’s Never Going To Be A Doughnut Diet? Rats. Life Isn’t Worth Living.

Earlier in the week there was breaking news in the diet department.

Apparently there are “10 Despicable Doughnuts!” and an article urging you to “think twice before grabbing one of these fatty sugar bombs.”

I enjoy a doughnut from time to time.  I imbibe every third month or so. And I have fond memories of my more regular doughnut eating days. Weekends when my dad would bring home a dozen from Dunkin’ Donuts or after church, sneaking doughnut holes off the buffet at the meet ‘n greet in the church hall.

Curious as a cat, I clicked the link. Evil doughnuts? Were there any angelic ones? If there are 10 despicable ones then maybe they list the virtuous ones.

Are you curious? Do you want to know who graces the evil top 10?

Starbucks Old Fashioned Glazed Doughnut. Entenmann’s Devil’s Food. Little Debbie Mini Frosted. Dunkin’ Donut’s Chocolate Coconut Glazed. Krispy Kreme’s Vanilla Iced Creme.

Oh. No.

Aren’t these your run of the mill, fun, treat-type doughnuts?

And they’re ALL bad for me?

The article goes on to state “don’t be fooled” by the addition of blueberries to Dunkin’ Donut’s Blueberry Crumb Donut. (I wasn’t.) And here’s the big shocker (not): doughnuts are loaded with calories mainly from sugar and fat.

Horrors!

Who knew?

Uhhmmmm….practically everyone.

Am I right?

Raise your hand if you thought doughnuts were health food.

Hmmm. No one. Well, that’s a sigh of relief.

Is there anyone out there stupid enough to think that a doughnut is the breakfast of champions? That it shouldn’t be a once in a while treat? That maybe, just maybe, they might be packed with empty calories?

(Shaking my head in disbelief at what passes for breaking news these days. It must be a slow news day.

And I suppose, that’s a good thing.

Now go on and have a great, newsworthy day!  Oh, and have a doughnut! I know I will. Because after reading that article, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them.)

No Ifs, Ands Or Butts. Jane Solves The Age Appropriate Clothing Dilemma.

A friend of mine has a pet peeve. It annoys me, too. But it annoys her more.

Women wearing clothes that are not age appropriate. 

You know the type. The one with kids approaching their teens but they still buy their own clothing in the junior section. Wearing the trendiest of trendy. Ripped jeans. Bikinis. Short shorts. Thongs. Body piercings. Micro mini dresses.

This friend of mine. The one with the pet peeve? She’s not envious. She could rock any of the above styles. She just believes that women should dress their age.

I’ve just never really given the topic much thought. It’s not something I notice unless it’s an in-your-face kind of offense.

When pushed for an opinion, however, I agree with her. I feel embarrassed for the offender. I’m not saying we should all don mom jeans or support hose (does anyone wear hose anymore?). But I don’t shop in the junior department. My jeans ride closer to my waist than my……well, you know what I mean. Bikinis have been replaced with tankinis. And shorts are at a length where everything is in its place. At all times.

Yes.

I said, shorts.

Because, apparently there is a debate about whether women over 40 (gasp!) should even wear shorts. I came across  this article and was aghast. Seriously? I’m going to have to get rid of my entire summer wardrobe. Because, Baby, I’m well over 40. I’m pushing the next decade. And I never gave wearing shorts a second thought. Which got me thinking……what IS age appropriate for me?

I did what I do whenever I’m wondering about something.

I Googled it.

And stumbled upon this article, “Forbidden Fashion For The Over 30s.”  I agreed with much of it. Body piercings, super low riding jeans, micro minis. Forbidden.

And then they listed things I don’t think anyone should wear: scrunchies, tube tops and Crocs.

But they also listed things that I’m guilty of wearing (at age almost-50): tie dye, collegiate sweats, and flip flops (but not all at the same time, of course.)

What is appropriate fashion for my age? What can I still rock and what should I drop?

I admire the Helen Mirrens, Diane Keatons and Christie Brinkleys of the world.

They exude style and class. No one questions what they wear out the door. (Except Mr. Blackwell, of course) They look put together. Fabulous. And can you believe Christie Brinkley is pushing 60?

But I don’t have a private stylist that helps me choose what I should wear and stops me when I try to leave the house in something that I shouldn’t.

After Googling and reading and scanning countless pictures I’ve come to only one conclusion: If it feels comfortable, if it looks at least somewhat put together, if it is properly cleaned and mended and ironed and covers the important bits – who gives a flying flip what I wear out the door? I’m going to be comfortable. I’m going to feel good when I put something on. And it will be age-appropriate because I say it is.

No ifs, ands or buts.

Unless, of course, my butt is peeking out of my low rider jeans. Then, please. Stop me. And send me back to change.

Because no one should ever be subjected to that.

The Exercise Braggarts On Facebook. Tell Me Again. Why Are We ‘Friends’?

Who are these people that I’m friends with on Facebook? All of my Facebook friends are people I either went to school with, taught, is a neighbor, etc. In other words, people I have encountered in real life. No friends of a friend of a friend of a friend. Real people I’ve interacted with in real time.

In real time they seemed…..normal.

On Facebook? Aliens. Not from my world.

“So glad I got to the gym at 5am this morning. I’m leaving at 6 and there are 3 people fighting over the cardio machine. Ha!”

“Last run before the big race. An easy 5K in 23:12. Now my left calf hurts, left knee. But I feel great!”

“Just finished a great 18 mile run. The 30mph winds? Not so great.”

“It’s cardio time! What are YOU up to?”

Me? Wow. It’s so sweet of you to care.

I’m more of an introspective and private exerciser. I love my quiet yoga time. Walks with my dog. Sometimes we walk with my neighbor and her dog. And swimming, of course. My therapy. Lap after lap.  But apart from broadcasting my exercise exploits here (for the purpose of this post, of course) I don’t feel the need to shout my daily (OK, sometimes every other day) sporting accomplishments from the rooftops.

Who are these people?

And why am I friends with them again?

Is God On Tebow’s Side? And The Other Team. Do They Just Not P(r)ay Hard Enough?

More than 40% of Americans think that divine intervention can be attributed to Tebow’s success.

Listen, I’m glad the man has faith. Wearing it on your sleeve, or your face as the case may be? More than I do, but everyone has a right to shout out what they believe.

But seriously people?

Don’t you think God has more important things to do than help a man and his team win a football game?

(As Yogi Berra said, “Why don’t you just let God watch the game?”)

Jane Cures Head Lice And Other Blogging Mysteries Solved

Apparently, I’ve cured head lice.

Single handedly.

On November 2nd I wrote about head lice here. And then, mysteriously, on November 19th, 17 days later, my blog stats took a gigantic leap and readership soared. Through the roof. So, I wrote about it here.

I’ve been riding that gravy train of popularity ever since. That is, until today. As suddenly as my readership soared, it plummeted.

Crashed.

Deep nose dive.

Everyone must have taken my advice, cured their head lice problem with simple tea tree oil solutions, thus wiping out head lice across the globe.

And I’m lonely.

Don’t get me wrong. I knew my popularity was fake. But that doesn’t stop a girl from pretending there are lots and lots of people out there reading her stuff, educating themselves and coming back for more.

But now, my stats are back where they used to be. And I want to know.

Was it something I said?

WordPress has this handy little year end feature where they put together stats on your blog. There was a little button so that I could share it with all of you but I chose not to. Then you’d all see how few truly read me and I didn’t want you few who do to feel like total losers. Just trying to save your tender hearts, that’s all.

WordPress told me that I should write more about head lice, burkas and Toddler’s & Tiaras. That’s what my readers want, apparently. But I can’t. Head lice makes me squeamish. Burkas make me lose readers because they think I’m a racist. And Toddler’s & Tiaras doesn’t deserve any more publicity. (So erase those last few sentences from your memory banks. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.)

I have readers (all 44 of you) from six of the seven continents. Most from the US and Canada. That means that 21 of you are from North America. Nine of you are from Europe. Six from Australia. Five from South America. Two from Asia and one from Africa. (This is just a guess. An uneducated one. And 44? Just the number of hits I had at the moment I began writing this post. But I like playing with numbers. And pretending, apparently.) 

Here’s where it really gets interesting….

One of my greatest referral sites, besides Google and WordPress, is the sweet Bibliomama from up yonder. (That means Canada.) So, thank you, Bibliomama. I have a feeling it’s because Blogspot has that handy dandy feature that you employ on your sidebar. You know, the one that advertises the latests blog post titles of the writers in your Blogroll. Thank you for using this feature. I love it, myself. And I’m grateful that I have an honored spot in your Blogroll.

I, like any other blogger, like comments. Here on my blog, that is. Finding the time to read everyone out there that I want to read and then comment – that’s another story. But comments here? Welcomed and encouraged.

My top 5 commenters are:

1. Big Little Wolf at Daily Plate of Crazy

2. Dawn King from Dawn King

3. Faemom from Faemom

4. Katy Beth from My Odd Family

and last, but certainly not least….

5. TKW from The Kitchen Witch

You ladies are the bomb! Thank you, a million thank yous, for popping in here to see what I’ve written and then commenting even though I seem to have a hard time getting around to that myself. It’s nice to know I’m not writing to wind. I promise to make the effort to do a better job of commenting. I promise.

My little WordPress annual report was entertaining. And it reminded me to thank the readers who read me, which I should do more often.

Thank you! All of you!

And to the readers who are no longer coming here because, through my humble blog, I’ve cured your head lice situation?

You’re welcome.

It’s 2012. Where Are The Flying Jet Packs?

Where In The World DO They Find These Spam Writers? I Mean It. I Want To Know WHERE.

My spam cracks me up. It can even turn into a pretty entertaining blog post. I’ve written about spam so many times, I figured you were all bored with the topic by now.

But I recently received this:

“I’m a recurrent audience of one’s blogs. My partner and i liked the recent one and other content on your weblog a lot that I have subscribed to the blog’s Feed throughout Thunderbird. Even considering thieving some thoughts and place results. Retain every one of the great going by posting far more helpful content. Time well spent about this submit. Thank you.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. But it made me giggle all the same.

“Recurrent audience of one’s blogs” – Recurrent and one’s? Love it!

“Even considering thieving some thoughts and place results” – Thieving. Cool usage. And they spelled it right. (I didn’t when I first typed it here.) And what the heck is a place result?

“Retain every one of the great going” – Huh?

“By posting far more helpful content” – Hey! I thought you said you liked my blog. Now you’re criticizing the helpfulness of my content?

“Time well spent about this submit” – What’s a submit?

The sometimes firm and not so firm grasp of the English language has me stymied. Obviously, English is NOT their primary language. So, which is it? Mandarin? Portuguese? Punjabi? (Yes. This is a language. Native to about 109 million people.)

So, I lay awake at night wondering about the grammatical errors and misuse of words, trying to figure out which language in the world would have the most trouble with these English idiosyncrasies. And because I’m not a linguist, I never come to any kind of conclusion.

But that’s OK.

I was sufficiently entertained. And pondering the origin of the material was akin to counting sheep.

So, no worries.

I’m just glad I could be of some help to a far-away spammer.

“Thank you.”

You’re welcome.

Could You Be A Sister Wife?

I’m not sure I could.

I don’t watch Sister Wives religiously. (Ba-dum-bum. Chhhh!) But I have seen a few episodes, most recently, the one when they go back to the husband’s hometown for the first time as an open polygamist family. His friends from high school were very frank about their feelings towards him, then and now. Some were favorable. Some not so much.

The episode began to nudge me into a direction about how I feel. On one hand, it goes against everything I feel about monogomy. And to be fair, they think of themselves as monogamous. Their monogamy is just not my monogamy. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be nice to have that kind of help, friendship, incredibly close comradery with other women. Women who would totally get my frustrations with my (our?) husband, kids, life. But then, I go back to the first hand and think about theological concerns I have with the faith. So, that’s where I stay.

I’m conflicted. For myself. The shows Big Love and Sister Wives have pushed me out of my comfort zone. And that’s ok for me. It has, however,  stirred my passion for tolerance and acceptance of others who may not believe as I believe.

And it got me thinking.

If polygamy were legal, between age-appropriate and consenting adults, wouldn’t it be that much easier to prosecute the Warren Jeffs of the world? Think of all the people who could openly come forward with pertinent information regarding the abuse of young girls.

Behind closed doors, between age-appropriate, consenting adults, I don’t really care what happens. It doesn’t affect me.

What hurts us all is the abuse of young girls, forced to marry or young boys, forced out of their homes.

Horrible cults will never go away. We should always prosecute and condemn those who take advantage or neglect the welfare of our children. But if two (or three, or four…dare I say more?) adults fundamentally believe in a plural marriage? Who am I to judge?

Ok.

So now you know my fuzzy opinion.

What’s yours?