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Archive for June, 2007

Tagged by Emily

See links to other blogs at right. I wasn’t specifically tagged, but she said, “anyone reading this post,” so Good Little Do-Bee that I am, I thought I’d play along.

Rules: After posting these rules, each player proceeds to list 8 relatively random facts/habits about himself/herself. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, leaving them a comment on their blogs to let them know.

1. Although I love to sing, I’m not all that wild about opera. Go figure.

2. Speaking of singing, my late aunt told me once that I could sing before I could talk. Whoa.

3. I have never been able to sit around in my jammies for very long, and prefer to get dressed the second I get up.

4. I loved being a secretary. If I’m not sitting at a typewriter or keyboard, I don’t feel as if I’m working.

5. I would have loved to have at least half a dozen children, but got a late start. Sigh.

6. I am a shocking housekeeper, despite really loving a clean and tidy home. It’s tempting to say that it’s hard to be clean and tidy when living with a packrat, but I seem to have developed tendencies along those lines myself.

7. If my chores aren’t done by 9:00 a.m., they won’t get done at all.

8. Despite my terror of flying, I actually do hope to make it to Russia one day.

Tagging: anyone who reads this blog, since I appear to have just six readers, per Bloglines.

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You Must See This

Over on the right are links to my favorite blogs (“Other Sheep of This Fold”). Click on Nancy’s (Treasured Heart) to see something that — well, it took my breath away. You do have to let it run for a couple of seconds before you realize what it’s about, and turn up the sound — it’s well worth it.

Update: Paul Potts won the competition! Elizabeth, God bless her, has posted all three of his performances on her blog, and when I clicked on over to You-Tube, there was also a clip of the announcement that he was the winner. Just thrilled for this guy, and so very, very pleased that culture is not dead, after all.

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How could I resist?

Margaret —

[noun]:

A real life muppet

‘How will you be defined in the dictionary?’ at QuizGalaxy.com

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Red Alert

Ever since last August — I think we all know what happened then — I have had a really difficult time keeping to my prayer rule. At that time, I’m sure it was just sheer physical exhaustion, as my body recovered from a major assault on it, and then from a life-threatening illness (turns out that MRSA kills a lot of people). Also, dh was home a great deal, and over the years, he’s made it plain that he thinks prayer is for “holy rollers.”

Well — his tune has gradually changed, and since he’s been home this past month, recuperating from his own stay in the hospital — I think I blogged about that — he doesn’t seem to mind my praying so much. This week, when I reminded him that I was fasting (he wanted to fix me eggs for breakfast), he just said, “Oh! Okay!” This is a major change for him.

So there isn’t too much excuse for the fact that I managed a bare minimum, sometimes, of prayer rule throughout Lent and the Paschal season. I’m just starting to get into it a bit more regularly now. It’s embarrassing; I’ll have to bring it up in confession; but until today, I haven’t been able to figure out what the problem is.

Today I got it. Now I just have to remember it, which is why I’m blogging about it.

When Jim’s home, I’m on nonstop Red Alert, a military term for, “Be ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice.” Yep, that’s me.

What happened this morning was that as I was debating whether or not to get into my prayer rule, at 8:30 a.m. (it takes about an hour to do the whole thing), Jim suddenly shouted, “Do you consider this redundant?” and proceeded to quote a sentence that, well, actually was redundant. He does this all the time, bouncing grammar rules off me; he’s actually very savvy with the English language himself, but if he isn’t sure about a point, it’s me he comes to. And while it’s flattering, it’s also very interfering.

“Would you put a semicolon here?”

“Is a colon followed by one space or two?” (It’s two. Semicolons are one space.)

“How does this sound to your ear?” (Reads the rough draft of a report he’s doing for work.)

“How many days did I work from home last month?”

Etc.

When he goes into Boston to work, this is not a problem, only when he works from home. Sometimes I feel like saying, “There is life in Rochester when you aren’t here, I don’t live in a state of suspended animation until you get home, so please stop acting as if I had nothing better to do all day than dance attendance on you.” In the heat of the summer, it gets real interesting; he leaves off working around 3:00 (having worked since 6:00 a.m., so all you taxpayers are still getting your money’s worth!), and then I’m supposed to Drop Everything at a moment’s notice so we can drive up to his favorite swimming hole, where he swims for a couple of hours while I work on embroidery and stew about dinner, which I will still have to prepare when we get back home. Why do I have to go along? It’s More Fun with me along.

Do any of you married women have a similar situation, or is this yet another manifestation of the Generation Gap?!?!

And you single gals: Think about this, when you get to hankering after being married. You don’t have a life. You’re on nonstop Red Alert.

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White Flower

With thanks to Philippa:

You Are a White Flower

A white flower tends to represent purity, simple beauty, and modesty.
At times, you are dignified like a magnolia.
And at other times, you represent great ecstasy, like a white orchid.
And more than you wish, you’re a little boastful, like a white hydrangea.

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