Sunday, March 30, 2014

Whining: the ultimate defense--plus a student photographer confession

I dreamed a gunman broke into my home. (At least, it was my home in my dream. It was more modern and uncluttered than my actual home.)

I instantly defended myself by... whining.

"I'm too tired for this," I said. Except that my voice was weak and it had an odd vibration in it. I tried again. "I'm tired!" I was supposed to be shouting, but it still sounded wimpy and just plain weird. "I said I'm tired!"

At which point my own snoring woke me up.

I think the message here is I need to ramp up my self-defense skills. And clear out my sinuses.

Now for my confession: I know photos have been hard to come by on this blog. I will buckle down this week and get some new material. I fully intended to get some last week. I even took the camera with me into the foothills and discovered a back road I'd never been on before. There were old barns and snowcapped mountain scenes. There were fields just beginning to show green.

It was a joyous afternoon, and the instant I was home I ran to the computer to upload the photos.

I didn't have an SD card in the camera. Stupid camera. Everything else warns me if I don't have any memory, but not my little old Nikon. We have been friends through so much, but when it comes to telling me I'm about to humiliate myself, it leaves me on my own.

This week will be different. I've loaded up, so if anybody breaks in, I'll be able to whine AND take his picture.


  1. I had to smile, I finally got an SD card for the same reason. I'm glad I did!

  2. How disappointing to discover the lack of an SD card, but this post makes a great read ... quality writing.


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Emails from home

Most of our email is pretty mundane. Once in a while, though, the immediate flavor of country life sings amid the shopping lists and communications to the office. Here are some stored on our home computer, written by people in our house and edited for privacy.

Some of the terms are softened for a family audience, but not by much.

Your evil kitty just woke up your son by urping up a mouse on his lion blankie.

You know you live in a small town when…

...Fifty-year old people born and raised in town are ‘new comers’.

...You are more afraid of locking yourself out of your house than of being robbed.

...The library has a different schedule on every day of the week.

...You are darn proud that your town has a library. Incidentally, your library account is handled not by a card but by a number that the librarian types into her computer. You have trouble remembering it, but the librarian can always tell you what it is.

...You can honestly say, "The Mayor is in front of the house fixing his manure spreader."

Good news: We caught another mouse.

Bad news: We have at least one more.

Good news: He must be hungry and he thinks of traps as a food source, since he robbed the bait of an un-sprung trap, finished the bait of the sprung one, and ate an eye from his dead brother.

Hope you're done with breakfast.