Yep. Good stuff.
Today, we’ve learned that Paul Ryan, the leader of the Republican Party in the United States of America, where I live and work, has stated his party’s intentions to defund Planned Parenthood. With that in mind, I thought I would share some brief history. In 1800, the average birth rate for the American woman was […]
via Hysteria. — I Am Begging My Mother Not To Read This Blog
Nothing offers camouflage quite as well as the color pink. I called this one, “Can You See Me Now?”
I found this reading checklist on Facebook and thought it was worth sharing.
Wouldn’t it be fun to tackle the list in order? I’ve needed to shake up my reading pattern for awhile, and this might be the ticket. Anyone care to join me? We could discuss our choices at the end of every second week.
Peace, and good reading, people.
I took this photo at a local store that specializes in hunting and fishing paraphernalia, i.e. fishing rods, guns, ammunition, etc. I’m not sure how a pacifier fits their target demographic, but then my degree isn’t in marketing.
There are too many things going on in this packaging for me to come up with a single title. Note the, “Ages 6 months to 99 years” recommendation in the lower left hand corner. Perhaps I should call this one, “A Gift for the Ages!”
Maybe I should focus on the whole Broadway Baby/fame aspect. How about, “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille,” or “Kim Kardashian, Eat Your Heart Out.”
Suggestions are welcome.
The title is a bit misleading since according to the calendar those of us residing in the northern hemisphere have been locked into winter since December 21-ish. Forget those pesky calendar designations. You know how robins are harbingers of spring? Then finding a lizard in my mailbox is the first sign the temps are going to drop in North Florida, and to me that is the truest indication that winter has arrived.
Not nearly as pleasant as discovering the robins have returned, being surprised by a lizard hiding in the stacks of post-holiday bills and glossy junk mail is a certain cardiac stimulant and/or test for urinary continence. I am proud to say that I didn’t squeal or utter a four-letter word this afternoon when the little bastard jumped out at me; although, I might’ve peed a little.
I found this in the “ugly Christmas sweater” clearance bin at J.C. Penney yesterday. So many titles came to mind, but I’m going with, “Holy Bad Taste!”
I’ve gained quite a bit of weight in the past two years. I’d be more specific, but who needs the depressing details? Let’s just say that the bathroom scales and I have climbed to previously untapped heights and leave it at that.
Early on New Year’s Day I was scrolling through Facebook and saw a post about a challenge to walk/run 2017 miles in 2017. The sign up deadline was midnight on 1/1/17, so I hesitated for only a moment before clicking on the link and paying my money.
I’m now committed (or perhaps should be). 2017 miles in 365 days means I need to average 5.5 miles a day this year, or 38.5 per week. I jokingly told a blogging friend that as of Friday I only have 2016.5 miles to go. The truth is, I’m kind of on track. With one and a half days left in this first week of January I’ve walked almost 32 miles!
Hopefully I’ll have more weight loss success than this guy ^^^.
Remember the scene in the original Peter Pan where Tinker Bell is on the verge of fading into oblivion and Peter, a.k.a. Mary Martin, begs the audience to applaud to bring her back? I used to clap so loudly that the folks next door complained to my parents. Well, I’m going to need your applause here if I’m going to succeed in walking 2017 miles this year. Exercise is not my first (or third or ninetieth) inclination, but with your help, as Peter Pan is my witness, I can do this.
Peace, people! Um, I can’t hear you.
I still can’t believe I’m going to Ireland in June. Granted, I’ll probably not get near any of these sites, but a girl can dream.
Today we will do a bit of hill walking as most of us have consumed those extra calories between the Christmas and New Year day 😉 Comeragh Mountains is a good place to start since you have already seen them from the top of beautiful Slievenamon. Here she is, my favorite mountain, as seen from the ascent to the Long Hill of the Comeraghs. First of all we will find the source of peculiar clouds that look so nice in the photographs, so let’s walk towards Slievenamon and have a closer look.
Bulmers! Or Magners, as the product is called outside of Ireland. Famous Irish Cider brewery is situated right next to Slievenamon. It also produces clouds 😦 Just look at the next image.
It is not always that bad though, but some days are worse than the others.
Dramatic clouds enhance your photographs, but is this steam emission harmless? I don’t know.
The…
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Humbling and moving piece by Jan Wilberg.
From the pay phone attached to the coral stucco wall of the La Jolla Resort, I could see the Chinese lanterns lit over the shuffleboard court, a couple sitting in lawn chairs holding hands and looking out on to the Florida Bay, a rented fishing boat with a Bimini top rocking, the sound of its sweet tapping carrying across the yard of sand and palm trees, softened by the bougainvillea draped at every turn, every corner.
It was 1988.
The trip to Islamorada was to celebrate my 40th birthday and the fact that we were finally out from under the expense and difficulty of having adopted a little boy from Nicaragua with a heart defect 18 months before. He had had surgery, was in day care, and was bright and happy. The four of us, my husband and I, our 15-year old daughter, and our mended boy were in love…
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First star knows about wishes.
She hears them murmured wistfully:
Star light,
Star bright,
First star I see tonight,
First star understands wishes.
She gathers them like forget-me-nots:
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.
First star hears wishes,
and then promptly forgets them.
Star light,
Star new,
I wasted many a wish on you.
First star regrets her lapses,
but what can we expect from a ball of gasses?
I wish I may,
Oh, wish I do,
To someday have a wish come true.
Praying for Eyebrowz 