It’s important to note, on this day in history, nineteen-hundred-ninety-nine, Fabio was hit in the face by a bird during a promotional ride of a new roller coaster at the Busch Gardens theme park in Williamsburg, VA. Fabio received a one-inch cut across his nose. I kid you not. www.on-this-day.com actually lists this tidbit along with the Eiffel Tower opening, Ford debuting its V-8 engine, Germany beginning its counter-offensive in North Africa, so-on and so-forth.

So here’s my question: What the?!!!

It’s not like comacazi fowl are unusual. Please. And theme parks?! Dangerous ground my friend, dangerous ground. I remember going to The Lagoon when I was young. There I was – sitting with a friend – enjoying a snack or two – when I felt something plop-a-top my head. At first I thought it was a bird with gastric distress. But then I looked up. There they were – two boys – hovering well above my head, pointing and laughing. They thought they were hysterical, as boys so often do. Boy spit. Boy spit was TOTALLY worse than bird poop could ever be. I was ruined. RUINED.

Guess I should just be thankful that particular low-point did not make it on a list of historical events - at least none that I’m aware of …

Just a quick note to let you know I've added a few prints of Rodney White to Magpie and Muttonfly's Fantastical Finds site.  Here's the ones available:

If you're interested in any of them, you better act quick.  They seem to be going fast.  To help you out, I went ahead and linked to pics to the site.   

Oh, and for those of you wondering about the Fantastical Finds site ... basically it's just my way of finding cool things on Amazon.com and directing you to them.  I rock.  I know. :) 

WANTED: Shakespeare, aka Mr. Bean.  Most recent offense entails jumping up on the kitchen table, plucking Lenten roses out of glass vase - one by one - and proceeding to drink the water.  Though he has been seen staking the scene of the crime, he has yet to be caught in the act.   

Do the right thing, even when it's hard - and remember, your family's got your back... 

The genre: Comedy-drama-romance

The gist: Brenda (Angela Bassett) is a single mom of three children, living in the inner-city of Chicago, just trying to make ends meet. When the plant she works for shuts down and heads for the border, Brenda is at a loss of how to keep it all together. Finally she decides a letter, informing her that her long lost father has died, may be just the ticket. Both figuratively and literally, for it includes 3 bus tickets. So off to Georgia they set – to meet the Browns.

My take: I love Tyler Perry. Sigh. I think he is an incredibly talented writer/actor/director. So, needless to say, I was terribly excited to see a new movie come out. But when it was all said and done, I was a bit disappointed. Not that I hated the movie, mind you. Though starting slow, it managed to keep me entertained throughout – I laughed, and gasped, out loud. I even shed a tear or two. Angela Bassett did a beautiful job portraying Brenda. And Lance Gross showed promise as Brenda’s eldest son, Michael. But many of the other characters were one-dimensional, making it hard to truly feel attached. Then there was the busy-ness of it all. And Tyler Perry – if you’re reading this (and how could you not be?!) what was the story with Medea? Were you bored? In desperate need of amusement?! Was that the only way you could work yourself into the script? What? Yes, it made me chuckle. And I’m all for fun and hilarity all for the sake of fun and hilarity … I just need to know …

Long story short – I’m leaving this one up to you. I won’t outright recommend spending good money to see this movie; and yet I won’t stop you either. As a matter of fact, as long as you know what you’re getting into ahead of time, you may very well enjoy.

An aside: Apparently this movie is an adaptation of Tyler Perry’s stage play of the same name. I have not seen the play; perhaps the story simply did not cross over well to screen? Or, perhaps I’m just trying to make an excuse for why I did-not-so-very-much-like. Sigh.

"Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem.  They were talking with each other about everything that had happened..." - Luke 24:13-14

There they are – two of Christ’s followers – trudging the old dirt road leading to Emmaus. Kicking pebbles here and there, they keep their arms folded, their eyes downcast. They talk in despairing voices. How could they have killed Jesus? Did they not hear his teachings? Did they not see the miracles? Why did God let it happen? His own son! With the Savior dead and buried, what hope does Israel have now? And Judas! Don’t even get me started on Judas!

They’re so into their discussion they don’t even see the stranger now walking beside them. “What are you talking about?” He asks. Can’t you just see the twinkle in His eye? They stop walking; but they just can’t bring themselves to look up. The question doesn’t even merit a response. Don’t you know? The stranger shrugs, shakes his head, inquires further, and the floodgates open. They tell it all. Every wretched detail – His name was Jesus, they begin. They tell of his signs and wonders – and how, despite all His great words and deeds, their own rulers handed Him over to be sentenced to death. Only three days earlier, they explain, He was crucified on an old wooden cross. He died and was buried, along with their hope for salvation. Then, to top it all off, the women went to His tomb, found it empty, and now claim He has risen from the dead.

All this and Jesus was right before their eyes. How could they have missed Him? How could we? We know He rose from the dead – we’ve read the scriptures, heard the sermons, and sang the songs. Yet when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of life, we often live as though He were dead. We focus on our despair, we try to fix things ourselves, we try to carry the burden alone. All this when the one who walked before us – the one who understands the burden of this world more than anyone –who laughed and cried, who felt the joy of friendship and the pang of betrayal, who felt misunderstood, alone, and abandoned – He is not dead. He is risen; and He walks right beside us. Tell me, He says. All we have to do is look up.

It's SPRING - take some time to enjoy it... 

Heaps of thanks to my Ana Sonja for lending this week's pic.  Copyright © 2008 Sonja McDannel.  All rights reserved.  Used with permission.

Happy St. Paddy's day to ye!

And what could be better than a bit of Irish fare?!  So grab a Guinness, join the wearin' of the green, and enjoy some good fortune with the ones you love ...

IRISH SODA BREAD WITH RAISINS

Nonstick vegetable oil spray
2 cups all purpose flour
5 tablespoons sugar, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
3 tablespoons butter, chilled, cut into cubes
1 cup buttermilk
2/3 cup raisins
Preheat oven to 375°F. Spray 8-inch-diameter cake pan with nonstick spray. Whisk flour, 4 tablespoons sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda in large bowl to blend. Add butter. Using fingertips, rub in until coarse meal forms. Make well in center of flour mixture. Add buttermilk. Gradually stir dry ingredients into milk to blend. Mix in raisins.
Using floured hands, shape dough into ball. Transfer to prepared pan and flatten slightly (dough will not come to edges of pan). Sprinkle dough with remaining 1 tablespoon sugar.
Bake bread until brown and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 40 minutes. Cool bread in pan 10 minutes. Transfer to rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Note: Special thanks to Karen's Whimsy for the four-leaf clover pic.  You can check out all her public domain images at karenswhimsy.com.

So.  I had a St. Patty's party last night.  I brought my beer, my green bread, and my Irish party spirit.  Alas, the last did not linger long.  First of all, you must know - I'm an odd-ball extravert - borderline extravert - the introverted extravert - whatever you want to call it, I'm right smack-dab down the middle of extravert and introvert.  In other words, I'm a freak.  That said, I can work a crowd if I know everyone OR I somehow feel I must.  If not, I tend to gather with the other wall flowers, just taking it all in. 

The latter, would be me last night.  I camped out on the couch with my Bailey's Irish Cream on the rocks and there I sat.  Sitting was my first mistake - Bailey's was a close second.  I'm not exactly what you would call a fun drinker.  Give me alcohol and I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to curl up and go to sleep. 

There I sat, desperately trying to keep my eyes open.  I chatted here and there, but for the most part I was completely pathetic. To top it all off, as I sat there, chatting with friends, a girl comes up and says to me, "So, I hear there are quite a few pregnant women here tonight.  Are you one of them?" [imagine, if you will, her smiling face to my trying-not-to-look-as-appalled-as-I felt]

I have two words: low.  point. 

Needless to say, after that uplifting convo, I cast my vote for best costume and promptly drove home.

People keep asking how that novel's coming along.  Well, just take a listen ...

Listen to Leroy Anderson's The Typewriter

 I do not know what to do with this ... 

Woman sits on boyfriend's toilet for 2 years - More health news- msnbc.com

Sitting on your duff for two years is one thing; but sitting on a toilet seat is QUITE another.    

Anyone who knows me knows debacles of all sorts and varieties tend to abound when my mom and I travel together. For some reason, stories of said debacles seem to amuse friends and family. So I guess it’s only natural people would be begin to wonder about our last trip to Mexico. Got any weird stories?

For the record, our stay was quite ordinary, thank-you-very-much. We lounged on white sand beaches and sipped pina coladas and mango margaritas. We traveled to one of the new wonders of the world, where our poor gringo-selves nearly melted in the sun. We meandered through the shopping district and got fairly fluent in saying, “No, gracias.” Shop here! We are cheaper than Walmart. No gracias. Do you want a free massage? No gracias. Do you want a Mexican boyfriend … well, you get the idea …

And then we decided to parasail.

It was lovely. Sigh. As Dr. Seuss would say, “If you haven’t, you should, these things are fun, and fun is good!” Floating above a sea of blue, the world was at once peaceful and serene. Then we began to drift. It was hardly noticeable at first. But before we knew it we were looming large above some poor, unfortunate man minding his own business on the beach. His children, having run from the waves screaming and crying, each latched to a leg for dear life.

Normally I would have said something clever and witty, but two issues were taking precedence: 1) I was wondering how much of my white pasty butt was hanging out of the harness; and 2) we were getting dangerously close to a crag of rocks.

Luckily, the boat started moving again just in time. And we were floating up, up and away from the humiliation of it all.

Kinda like life, isn’t it?! Just when you think you’re about to get skewered on the crags of despair, the wind lifts your sails. All you got to do is hang in there. Chances are, when it’s all said and done, you’ll look back and say, it wasn’t so bad …

The picture, in case you're curious, was taken after we had resumed our ascent. Let's all say it together, "Aaah, good times!"

March 10, 1876 the first words were transmitted via electric waves. In other words, it was the first telephone convo. Alexander Graham Bell spoke, “Watson, come here; I want you” and Watson heard the call. A momentous occasion for sure and yet I chuckle. Seriously. Of all the things he could have said; and yet he chose to go with “Watson, come here; I want you.”

Kinda reminds me of the time my mom went to call in a prescription. The Pharmacist answered the phone with, “Such-n-Such Pharmacy, can I hold you?!”

But I digress …

So let’s take a bit of time to be thankful for that great invention of Alexander Graham Bell - for all the serious and not-so-serious words it has conveyed. For all the ways it has brought us together in sorrow, in joy – even hilarity.

I'm not exactly what you'd call a domestic goddess.  I like cleanliness and order - so my house is usually clean and tidy.  On the surface.  Lord help you if you attempt to open a closet or look under a bed.  I like clean, fresh-smelling clothing - so I do my share of laundry, but I believe ironing to be evil.  As in the fru-its of the de-vil.  On and on it goes ...

So why, in heavens name, I got the swell idea to make cupcakes and attempt to decorate them like bowling balls is beyond me!  Granted, a couple of friends and I were planning a Sugar and Spice Bowl (as in bowling).  As with any great gathering we had goodie bags and prizes - we even had gutter glasses and a strike hat (if you got a gutter, you wore the glasses until the next gutter; if you got a strike, you wore the hat.  If you were wearing said glasses or hat when the buzzer sounded, you got a prize!  And yes, it is amazing what you will do for a free gift.)

All that and still I felt the need to add a little something extra.  So I set out to make just the thing.  When it was all said and done my kitchen looked as if a chocolate tornado had whirled thru. The frosting colors were lovely.  But my "finger holes" looked more like raisins.  Sigh.  Luckily, no one was around to see my endeavor.  What they don't know can't possibly appall them.  If only the same could be true of my bowling abilities ...     

Exhibit A: what our pets do while we're away

I had a minor meltdown this morning.  Frosted windshields finally got to me.  Not that they've ever been faced with grace and aplomb mind you.  Only today, it was different.  After months and months of trudging outside in the frigid morning hours to start my car and chisel my windows, I had finally had enough!  Perhaps it was the chirping birds, blue skies and sunshine.  And frost on my windshield.  Perhaps it was the clear windshields on every other dad-gum car on the street.  And frost on MY windshield.  What is with?!  Yeah, I don't know either.  But it ain't right ...

We can only hope the madness ends soon.  'Cause God don't like ugly.     

A friend and I have started meeting for Bible Study at 6:15 IN THE MORNING!  [whimper]  It is only once a week.  So I think I will survive.  Since it was OBVIOUSLY too early in the morning to make decisions, we opted to start with Romans.  And, as so often happens with the words of Romans, our conversation quickly turned to the world around us. 

I have often heard people complain that faith is a crutch.  That only the simple minded and weak lean upon the God of the Universe.  But looking around, I see that quite the opposite is true.  To truly study the Bible - and not pick and choose - takes discipline.  To have faith in one God - even when you are persecuted - takes devotion.  To stand for your beliefs - even when they counter society - takes courage.  It's not always the easy road.

And yet, if you truly delve into the scriptures you'll see it's a perfect roadmap.  It really is the only journey worth taking.  So why do so many who start believing the words of the Bible stray?!  I believe Alexander Solzhenitsyn sums it perfectly: "We do not err because truth is difficult to see.  It is visible at a glance.  We err because this is more comfortable."          

Let's face it - it's not easy to stand apart from the crowd.  Especially if you are being ridiculed.  The world says only the foolish believe in something they can't see.  We certainly don't want to be foolish!  The world says only the hateful preach against such things as abortion or gay rights.  We certainly don't want to be hateful!  The world says only the old-fashioned talk about ONE way to heaven.  We certainly don't want to be old-fashioned.  So we nod our heads graciously.  We shrug and we smile.  We may even apologize.  You're right, we say, it's no a big deal ... it's basically all the same. At least it's more comfortable.

March 3, 1904 Theodor Geisel was born.  Well, isn’t that nice, you say.  Quite, I reply, for Theodor Geisel is Dr. Seuss to you!  So in honor of his birth – and all the fun and fanciful places his words have taken us, here’s a quote from one of my favorites:

"Oh the places you'll go!  There is fun to be done!

There are points to be scored.  There are games to be won.

And the magical things you can do with that ball

will make you the winning-est winner of all. 

Fame!  You'll be famous as famous can be,

with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.

Because, sometimes, they won't."

--Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

A movie about the magic that is the movies...

The genre: Comedy/Drama

The gist: Mike (Mos Def) works for Mr. Fletcher (Danny Glover) at the Be Kind Rewind movie rental store - where you can rent a VHS for one day, for one dollar.  When Mr. Fletcher leaves town to research ways he might revitalize his failing business, he puts Mike in charge.  And he leaves instructions not to let Mike's conspiracy-theorist friend Jerry (Jack Black) in the building.  But Jerry does enter the building.  Magnetized.  And he erases every movie in the store.  In an attempt to stay out of trouble - and keep what little business they have - Mike and Jerry decide to re-films the movies themselves.  With the help of Jerry's mechanic, Wilson (Irv Gooch), and Alma (Melonie Diaz), a young girl from the local dry-cleaners, they make short clips of our most beloved movies.  In the end they become not only the stars of the shows, but their whole neighborhood as well. 

My take:  The first part of the movie was so slow it was almost painful.  As I was sitting there - trying to make sense of it all - the thought did cross my mind that I could easily excuse myself and never return.  And that's a pity.  Because the mid to end of the movie proved it could have been a classic film.  Of course, the fun begins once Jerry and Mike decide to "swede" - or film their own version of - the movies that have been erased.  Not only do the remakes provide a sense of nostalgia for anyone familiar with the movies being made, but anyone in the film business is sure to be reminded of his/her first attempt at making a film on a non-existent budget.  Needless to say, there are plenty of laughs in the middle of the movie.  But in the end, it's all about the heart.  Though Michel Gondry (Writer/Director) could have given us a stronger opening, he still manages to give us a great movie about movies - reminding us that movies bring us together, and for a few brief moments, allow us to forget the disappointment that may be lingering right outside the door ...