Truth from A Louisana Resident

I came across this video on Sandy's blog (Sandy's Walks About Town) and felt it needs to be heard by as many people as possible. It is a mother speaking at the Gulf Emergency Summit about her own personal experiences with BP and the oil spill. Its outrageous!! (15 minutes long but worth it.)

Dads' Life (3 minutes)

Super Glue

With a post title of "Super Glue", you probably already know where this is going, right? If we haven't personally experienced the amazing bonding effect of Super Glue, then we've heard stories about how it will glue anything. ANY. THING.

Darius now knows about it, too.

I was trying to fix a broken toy for the 5 yr old grandson and I asked him to get me the glue. Elmer's glue. In the background I heard 6 yr old Darius say in a helpful tone "Mom has some super glue!" I called back to him that super glue was too dangerous and that I don't touch the stuff.

After a few moments I gave up on trying to fix the broken toy. Then Darius slowly walked up to me from behind and softly said "gramma?" in that tone that says he's not sure how the conversation is going to go from that point on. Yup. He had glued his finger to the tube.

Confession. I totally lost it then. I'm sure it is going to cost me my nomination for gramma of the year award, but I couldn't help it. If you tell someone don't put your hand in that vat of acid and they turn around and put their hand in the acid, well, it has a tendency to totally tick me off. Sigh. But lets not dwell on this.

The only thing I could think of doing is to soak his finger (and tube) in some rubbing alcohol.

 

What doesn't show up in the photo is D's face as he wails about his dilemma. One of my endearing terms for D is Mr. Dramatic because it fits. Also, the poor dear was probably scared to death thinking he would spend the rest of his life with a tube of super glue on his finger.... or maybe something WORSE!

When his mom got home a few minutes later, she called the Advice Nurse to see what they knew. Fingernail polish remover with acetone was mentioned, but it could cause some irritation. Darius has sensitive skin, so that was a no-go. The next alternative was baby oil and yahoo... we had some. Well, we had a little.

We had just enough baby oil to cover the glued spot if the container was tipped in a certain way. It was, however, plenty of baby oil to soak the mattress and the front of D's shirt. Oh... and one of his mother's blouses. Ain't life fun?

The Group, as I sometimes call my daughter and grandsons, left and didn't return until evening. No tube on D's finger. Apparently the tube was stuck there all afternoon, but finally one of D's little friends helped him get it off. (Darius wasn't allowing any adult to try to remove it, no doubt thinking we would simply rip off his finger. It crossed my mind, but only once.) I don't know what happened to the tube of super glue. I'm guessing mom probably threw it away.

Retro Retribution - A Magpie Tale

19 year old Suzie hunched over the lamp scrubbing decades of grime out of the indentations as though she were digging for treasure. In fact it was treasure of sorts. Suzie had spotted the 1960s lamp in a secondhand store and squealed like a stuck pig, albeit a cute one. She was into ‘retro’ anything and this lamp was definitely retro. Except for the dirt.

Her first cleaning didn’t bring the results she had hope for, but the toothbrush was a perfect cleaning tool. It wasn’t long before the lamp looked almost new.

 

As she began putting away the cleaning supplies she heard her mother call from the bottom of the stairs.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay. Be right there.”

After putting the small bucket and detergent under the bathroom sink she quickly put the toothbrush under running water for all of two seconds before putting it back into the toothbrush holder.

So my dear brother… remember my blouse you used to wipe off the engine of your car? she thought to herself. Well, I do. And revenge IS sweet. I don’t care what they say.

(Each week Willow, over at Magpie Tales, posts a picture as a writing prompt. Go check out the poems and stories by going here.)

The Watering Can

 
Wanda posted a photo of some watering cans and a few of us decided to try to "capture" them. I laid the trap but the can skittered by me. No "capture" today, but it was entertaining. For a while.

Check out what others have done (so far) here. To see the source photograph, go here.

(Wanda had gotten the photo from Abe Lincoln. Unfortunately I don't have his blog link right now.)

Coffee

 
I have a new favorite, now. I was a Starbucks consumer (from grocery stores, not retail coffee shops) but I am now a Seattle's Best fan. Do not cry for me, Argin... Starbucks, because there is no need to feel rejected. At least not in the corporate sense of the word. Seattle's Best is a subsidiary of Starbucks.

(Seattle's Best history is interesting if you're bored and are curious about hearing how startup companies become national products. Check out Wikipedia's article.)

This month I managed to get a bag of both Starbucks and Seattle's Best coffees together. (I bought one, my daughter bought one.) This was the first time I could compare the coffees to each other, back to back. I typically use Starbucks and occasionally I have had Seattle's Best. (When its a case of needing to count each penny...Seattle's it is, otherwise its Starbucks. And this is because of the consistently good taste of Starbucks, not because I'm a designer snob.)

I remember the moment, the sensation, when I switched brands. It was much like today. I was sitting at the computer having a cup of coffee when I suddenly became conscious that the coffee was tasting especially good.

"yummmmm... this coffee is tasting especially good."

The next pot I made was Starbucks. It was fine. Nothing to complain about. The following day it was back to Seattle's Best.

"yummmm... this coffee is tasting especially good."

That's when I knew for sure... I'm a Seattle's Best fan, now.

I don't think Seattle's Best is available nation wide currently, but if you wanted to try it, I suspect online ordering is available. Do not misunderstand things, though, I'm just voicing a personal preference based on my personal taste buds which may be different than yours. I'm just saying....

oh... oh... speaking of coffee, I have a little fun with iced coffee when the boys are around. They see the dark liquid in the glass with lots of ice cubes. The glass shimmers with beads of condensation. It looks good to me, so I know its gotta look delicious to the boys.

"Is that pop, gramma?"

"ah, ah, why no, its not. Its iced coffee."

"hmmm. It sure looks like pop."

"Well, do you want to taste it?"

"Yes."

And thats the fun... watching their faces squinch all up when they taste it.

"Yuck."

And because they're such bright young boys, the second one still takes a drink, too. You know. Just to make sure.

A Studio at Last - A Magpie Tale

 
Sarah sat at the drawing table and looked about the room. She had worked hard to remove the bedroom furniture. Thank goodness it hadn’t involved stairs. The furniture was now waiting in the garage, its fate unknown.

In its place sat a drawing table lined up parallel to the window for the light. Of course it wasn’t the famous ‘northern exposure’ artists were suppose to seek, but Sarah felt fortunate just having a studio, period. In the corner stood a large wooden easel waiting for duty. A few random paint splotches rested on the frame, proving it had been used at least once.

Two shelves sat side by side against one wall holding Sarah’s art books, pads of various sized paper and colored pencils, pastels, all the little supplies one picks up over the years. The overflow sat around the room on the floor.

Sarah turned back to the table and pulled out one of the sharpened pencils from their container. A large piece of paper sat directly in front of her. She looked at its huge blankness. It was so damn white!

She tentatively made a few pencil marks.

Three hours later Sarah still sat at the drawing table, a blank whiteness still staring at her. In the wastepaper basket near her feet were four crumpled pieces of drawing paper. She finally stood up, threw the pencil against the wall and walked out of the room mumbling sarcastically to herself.

“Just follow your passion. What if you don’t have any passion? What then!”

“Just express yourself. Yeah, right… gawd damn it!”

“I’ve been painting since I could pick up a brush, blah blah blah. Well good for you. Aren’t you special!”

When she reached the end of the short hall the sarcasm was gone. Sarah went into the kitchen. “Well, I think I can fix dinner okay… but we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we.”

She opened the freezer and grabbed a TV dinner.


This is an entry to Magpie Tales' weekly challenge. You should go check it out here.

Work of Art - Bravo TV

Did you happen to see the premier of the show Work of Art: the next great artist last night on Bravo TV? Its a reality show set up like Trump's The Apprentice, except its showcasing artists. (although it looks like the boardroom is a gallery.) Sarah Jessica Parker is the exec producer.

If you missed it, you can watch the episode on your pc (45 minutes)... check it out here. (I had to do some searching to find where to click for the full episode, but it could just be me. They also have it separated into individual video segments, too, about 7 minutes at a time. Either way, you are forced to watch some commercials, but I'm just glad its available to view. Thank you, Dove.)

They have all levels of artists.... professional, probably students, a self-taught artist, etc. Plus a wide range of personalities. Of course, one of them has been assigned to be the one everyone hates. The one that makes you turn on the show to see if she got her butt kicked, figuratively speaking. No matter what she does artwise, she'll last a few episodes to help with ratings. (Based on what she created, I thought she should have been send home first, but I don't disagree with the judges choice, either.)

I thought I'd just spread the word about the show a little.

Still Missing

 
Seven year old Kyron Horman is still missing after a week. Today is day 8 in the search for him. Perhaps you've seen a quick mention of it on the national news. You probably won't hear about it again for a while because the national news staff have left. There's nothing to report on because the authorities are keeping quiet. They have from the start and its the first reason one would have to wonder what the hell is going on?

The whole thing seems very strange. Very strange, indeed.

Kyron was last seen by his stepmom as he was walking down the hallway towards his classroom after they had both gone thru a science fair at the school. The mom had taken a picture of Kyron standing next to his entry in the fair. (His display was about tree frogs. I'm guessing some of you might wonder.) Apparently he never made it to his classroom and the substitute teacher marked him absent. It wasn't until Kyron didn't get off the school bus that afternoon when they realized he was missing. The mom called the school right away and then called the police. The search was started immediately.

They are only allowing certified searchers to work the case. The area is in a semi rural area, some places are very rugged and they don't want Joe Public to get lost or hurt themselves.

The parents are "cooperating fully" which, I think, is police talk for they are not people of interest. I read a comment of someone who said they knew the family and it was a very loving situation.

The police hold press conferences every day to state that the search continues and they have no comments. They aren't sharing any information. Its all vague. For example they may say something like this: "We are searching specific areas as well as the general area around the school." That tells you nothing. (They have searched the school three times.)

We also have not seen the parents at all. They finally gave a statement that was read by the police officer who has been staying with them. Apparently they aren't appearing in public because they want to keep the focus on Kyron and not them. Okay.

The police claim it is still a missing-child search but their actions scream criminal case. Very little has been mentioned about the biological mother. I seem to have the impression that she lives in another state, but I don't know that for sure. And the authorities have interviewed her... but that's all we've heard about the birth mom.

After 8 days, I'm hoping for an abduction. That would mean there is still a chance that Kyron is still alive and hopefully being taken care of... by someone who is not crazy. (Odds of that last part being true is slim.)

Little Kyron has touched a bunch of hearts around here. Even the police get emotional at times. I hope there's a break in the case soon.

Rain

Rain. Its raining. Its been raining. Its been raining for months!! Did I mention how wet it is? Rain. Rain. Rain. What's the forecast for tomorrow? Rain. Gasp... no! You mean its going to rain again, and again, and again.

Its been so wet around here we've got mushrooms growing every where.

 

 

I know nothing about mushrooms except that some will kill, some will taste wild (aka dirt), and some will take you on a trip from which you may or may not return. I'm not much of a risk taker either, so I will leave them alone.

I'm just tossing this photo in because I haven't posted it yet and I've got nothing else to share.

 

Coming next: whining about hot weather. Stay tuned. Film at 11.

Miscellaneous Monday... again

 
 
I wanted to try my hand at foreshortening.

This little sketch pad caught my eye... first it was because of the square shape, then I felt the paper. Its heavier than regular paper so it will take a light wash better.

Yesterday it stopped raining for about 5 minutes. During that time my five & six yr old grandsons grabbed the squirt bottle and ran outside, cause you know, the grass needed more water. They forgot a couple of things out there when they came in; they remembered them right when we were having a hard downpour. "Gramma! (gasp) The skateboard is still out there!!" I don't think I need to describe their stunned looks when they were allowed to go get the toys. In the rain. In the hard rain. "But it was a warm wet."

They really enjoyed that... running like crazy in the rain. They were all smiles and giggles when they dashed back inside. Ah, the small things. Try to get away with that when they're teenagers. "Oh Look... its pouring. Lets go play in the rain, whadda ya say, guys? Guys?"

ohmygawd, you know you're old when you turn into one of those crones who fall asleep mid-sentence. I did that on Saturday. It wasn't mid-sentence, but I was in the middle of a Big Boggle game. I was trying to spot words, I was actively using my mental abilities... sort of, and next thing I know my friend is calling my name. I had fallen asleep. (00) I repeat... OH. MY. GAWD!!! I'm blaming it on the allergy pill had I taken. The non-drowsy kind. And it had nothing to do with being bored. (I managed to lose the game by two points. If I had been awake, well, it would have been a different outcome.) Now I'm going to forget this whole incident. It shouldn't take long.

Hope you had a good weekend, cause another one is coming up in five days.

Art Masks

I watched Oregon Art Beat last night and saw a segment about Deb Fisher, Maskmaker extraordinaire. Check out her web site here.

There's a video available of the tv segment HERE if you wanted to watch it. (I don't think it will be available for long.)

If you have a few minutes, check her out. The masks are fantastic!