Tag: blogging

I Don’t Wanna Be Wrong

College football is in full swing right now, and Studly Doright and I watched games most of the afternoon and into the late evening. After one successful short pass from the quarterback to a wide receiver the commentator said, “That little shuffle pass has been effective against this defense this year.”

Studly turned to me and asked, “Is it shuttle pass or shuffle pass?”

As the self-proclaimed word expert in our home I declared that it had to be shuttle. I reasoned that the QB was shuttling the pass along. Studly disagreed. He believed the word was shuffle because it was as if the passer was shuffling a card to the receiver.

We argued back and forth until I googled the topic. I’m happy to say that Studly was wrong. But sad to say that I, too, was incorrect. The term is shovel pass because the hand motion involved mimics the movement of a shovel being wielded.

Well, fine. I don’t agree with the decision, but I can’t be right all the time. That would be annoying.

Peace, people!

A Second Date

Several days ago I wrote about having lunch with a lizard. (Link below).

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2021/09/13/lunch-companion/

It was a pleasant lunch, but the lizard and I didn’t exchange phone numbers or anything, so I was surprised and a little bit flattered to find him saving a table for us when I arrived at Sweet Pea Cafe for lunch this morning.

Stanley (I believe he looks like a Stanley) was at the same table as last time, but didn’t skitter away when I approached. Instead, he waited patiently while I placed my lunch and lemonade near him.

The unfurling of my napkin seemed to unnerve him, so Stanley slid into the space between the slats where he watched me take out my book and unwrap my fork.

He emerged a bit to study me as I ate. I offered to direct some ants in his direction, but he said he’d already eaten.

He stayed this close to me the entire time I was engaged in eating.

Several other diners commented on my companion. A small child squealed in delight and Stanley dove beneath the table. He was still nearby, though, when it was time for me to leave. I didn’t get his number, but I think we might have some ESP going on. ‘Til next time, Stan.

Peace, people.

Cinderella for a New Generation

I needed a break from Blacklist, the series we’ve been watching for the past couple of months. I told Studly Doright that a change of pace was in order and to my surprise he suggested the new Cinderella movie.

After checking to see if he had a fever (he didn’t) I agreed, and we settled in for an evening of wonderful entertainment. Well, I loved it. The jury is still out on Studly’s reaction. You see, musicals aren’t his thing.

The film is clever and adorable and a love letter to feminism. How I wish I’d been exposed to this version in my youth.

Biggest surprise—Camila Cabello as Cinderella.

Biggest surprise honorable mentions—James Corden as a mouse and Idina Menzel as the stepmother.

Nicholas Galitzine as Prince Robert with Camila Cabello as Cinderella. Magical.

Peace, people.

Longfellow?

My mind, like most minds I suspect, works in awkward ways. I’ll be walking between rooms, perhaps toting a load of laundry to the wash room, when a phrase or a snippet from a poem will pop into my head. I might forget I have Studly’s dirty socks clutched in my arms for a second or two as I try to recall the entire verse or the poet who penned it. That exact scenario played out this morning.

There I was, minding my own business with assorted laundry items in hand, when the words There was a little girl, trickled through my consciousness. Cute nursery rhyme, I thought followed closely by, I’d never have used forehead to rhyme with horrid. Poetic license. Hmm.

My next thought had to do with the pungency of Studly’s socks. I continued on my way and started the washing machine. Maybe I remembered to add detergent and maybe I didn’t—my mind was on that little girl. I googled the first line of the poem and this came up:

There was a little girl

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow authored this little poem? C’mon man. The same guy who gave us the epic poems The Song of Hiawatha and Paul Revere’s Ride also wrote a six line poem about a little girl whose forehead rhymed with horrid? Maybe I knew that at one time, but as I’ve already noted, my mind is easily distracted.

Anyway, well done, old chap. I never mastered memorizing Hiawatha, but with a little more work I’m sure I’ll have There Was a Little Girl memorized within the week. Maybe.

Peace, people!

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

I finished a FaceTime call with my friends in England today just as the sun began to fade. I yawned and considered retiring to my bed. Except I then realized the time was only 2 p.m.—much too early for bedtime.

Clouds have moved in, creating this wonderful gothic feel. All of a sudden I have a desire to watch old episodes of Dark Shadows. Why aren’t those being broadcast on some nostalgia channel? Seems like a no-brainer. Did anyone else rush home after school every day to watch Barnabas and Angelique? Just me? Now I feel foolish.

Peace, people!

Lunch Companion

Most days I dine alone at lunchtime. If the weather is nice I find a picnic table at Sweet Pea Cafè in Tallahassee and read while munching on one of their delightful vegan meals. Today the skies were slightly overcast, making it the perfect day to dine outside.

As I approached my favorite table a flash of motion caught my eye. A little lizard scurried away from me and I was quick to reassure him that I meant no harm. Now, this scenario has happened before. Every time, though, the lizard of the moment has totally ignored my words and gone skittering off to safer pastures. Today, though, this lizard remained for the entire meal.

At first he ducked between two slats.
Eventually, he emerged and seemed interested in my meal. I read aloud to him from the book I had with me. I think he might be a Stephen King fan.

I felt a bit like Disney’s Cinderella as the lizard kept me company. I wonder if it might be inclined to stitch a ball gown for me if were in need of one?

Peace, people!

Nothing Else Matters

Metallica was never a band whose songs were included on my playlist. Try as I might, I was unable to develop a taste for their hard-driving brand of rock. Then just this week I heard Miley Cyrus perform a cover of Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters, and now I am obsessed with the song.

Once I’d listened to Miley’s version I had Alexa play the original. Oh. My. It’s gorgeous. Hauntingly beautiful. Who knew Metallica could pull off such a restrained and heart-rending song?

Now, to add another layer to the mix, as I drove home to Doright Manor from Tallahassee on Saturday afternoon I heard the now familiar opening lyrics “So close no matter how far” emanating from my radio. Only this time it was a cover by country star Chris Stapleton. I adore Chris Stapleton, and his version is oh so good.

I went from not knowing the song at all to having three different, incredible versions on a playlist of its own. And if I’m being honest, the original is my favorite. Finally at my advanced age of almost 65 I’ve developed an affinity for Metallica. Will wonders never cease?

Fairly recent photo of Metallica. Guess I’m not the only one aging. They still look good and sound great, though.

Peace and Rock On, People.

In a Perfect World, This Would be my Dog

I enjoyed peach bellinis and whatever one might call a fruit and sweets version of a charcuterie board on Sunday morning at the Bettendorf, Iowa, home of one of my daughter’s friends.

My daughter created this yummy masterpiece. Is there a name for a fruit and cookie board?

We enjoyed our drinks and sweets out by the pool while watching the antics of this adorable dog, Daisy.

Daisy, the Beautiful

I’d never contemplated dognapping until the moment I first saw Daisy. Isn’t she perfect? Okay, I never really thought about sneaking her off the property, but I’d love to clone her. She is just as sweet as she looks.

Peace, people!

East is East and West is West

My daughter was confused because in my blog I kept referring to her home as being in the eastern part of Illinois, when in fact, Port Byron is in western Illinois. My mistake had her doubting what she knew to be true. See, that’s how fake news works.

I had no malicious intent in my false reporting. Honestly, my brain tends to switch such things around. Nevertheless, my daughter needed clarification. Did she live in eastern or western Illinois?

See that blue strip in the map above? That’s the Mississippi River where it separates Illinois from Iowa—proof that my daughter resides in the western, not the eastern part of the state.

In other news, my grandson is doing well following his recent abdominal surgery. And that’s all that really matters.

Peace, people!