Bobblehead Goat Photo

Here's a story-starter for you: a photo I took at MOOVILLE. Seriously. The place is called that because it is a dairy farm. But there's also a petting zoo there, and I really like goats. Mmwaahh.

ACTUALLY, FYI, we were married by a goat farmer. Seriously. That's not like a captain of a ship or anything. He was a full-time goat farmer, and a part time minister. Seriously.

Big Time Ut-Oh for Son's Pet

I'm so bad! I'm the type of person who does things, and then reads the instructions. Point in case: our son wanted a hermit crab. He thought they were cool -- until he owned one.

We put it in a plastic turtle-keeper, equipped with a 6" plastic palm tree in the middle. Our son was upset that the critter never ate, like all his rodent experiences. I was upset that we'd bought a brain-damaged animal into the house. For it would climb up the palm tree, hang upside down for a moment, then crash into the container, only to repeat the climb-and-crash all day long! If it would have simply sat there and scootched over a bit to make some of the food go away, that would have simply been a boring pet, but this one seemed psychotic. To me, the 2-inch wall holding it in hardly seemed secure enough.

Then, one day the hermit crab quit climbing and dropping. If it ever ate anything, we couldn't tell. (And, YES, we only "fed" it hermit crab food!) This sudden change in behavior -- or lack of it -- was confusing. We thought right away that it had died. But since it wasn't emitting a corpse-like aroma, we left the immoble pet alone. But after nearly two weeks of worrying and wondering, and none of the food disappearing, we decided it had indeed died. So we buried it in the backyard. We never got another one.

A decade later, as I was making a high school graduation quilt for our son, I looked up hermit crabs on the Internet and became horrified at my discovery: A HERMIT CRAB GOES INTO HIBERNATION WHILE IT OUTGROWS ITS PRESENT SHELL! This inactivity (with no motion and no eating) can go on for a couple weeks. We'd buried one of our pets alive!

Locked Out

My dad's in his late 80's. One evening, I took my parents out to eat. Afterwards, I pulled our van smack dab in front of the restaurant door, left it running, then dashed around to help both parents get in and situated. As I was trotting back to the driver's side, I heard a "click." Dad had locked me out, van running, and windows up.

"Unlock the doors, Dad," I yelled. He was a little deaf, as well. The closed windows didn't help.

"I didn't lock the doors," he gruffed back.

"Why'd you lock her out?" accused my mother.

"I didn't lock her out."

"Yes, you did. Let her in."

"She can get in."

It was always difficult to butt in when the two of them got to arguing. But as more and more people walked around the van in order to get in and out of the restaurant, I tapped on the driver's window.

"Dad, look at me."

"What?"

"Roll... UP... your... window."

He looked confused, probably because he could tell his window was already up.

"Roll up your window," I repeated.

Since Mother was no longer nagging him -- probably because she saw the same thing as he, and was equally confused -- Dad "rolled up the window" with a click. I quickly climbed in before he could "roll it back down," for our poor old van actually has handles to roll down and up windows, but near each handle is a button to lock and unlock the doors.

Seed Ticks, Anyone?

On one of our honeymoon adventures, my husband and I backpacked into the Ozark Mountains. By that time, we were tired of crowds and people, so had driven an hour or so on a dirt road, off a back road, then parked the car. We followed an old, unkept and unmarked trail into the woods. Our needs were met. No people in sight or sound.

After hiking a few hours, we took a rest on a log at the edge of a meadow which was created by a fire years before. Black stumps were still scattered throughout the field ahead of us. Soon we felt itchy. Looking down, we discovered we were covered with thousands of seed ticks -- itty-bitty-sized ticks common to the Ozarks.

We jumped up, brushed off as many as we could, and realizing they had gotten under our clothing, rushed into the field (away from overhanging trees and rotting logs where ticks tend to hang out). We stripped naked, and using up nearly every match we had, we lit, blew out, then "popped" each of those little babies out of our bodies, also checking each other over well, since we would be sleeping int he same tent that night.

Grand way to get to know your new spouse.

Brainstorming How to Climb into a Boat

We have a small (19') cutty. I like to swim. It's getting back into the boat from deep water which is the problem. There is a 2-step ladder attached to the boat. My husband says if it weren't for the fact that the lower rung is neck-high in the water, that it would be easy. Agreed. That first step is the first step to dryness. He suggested a longer ladder. I suggested a slanted one with railings. Our son suggested a ramp. And then I thought of a crane, swinging out from the back of the boat and lowering into the water like an elevator. Our son said that if we got that, that he would be the one in charge of operating it. As I smiled at my dear offspring, I imagined what he would do with control of a swinging mommy over the water. I no longer thought it was such a grand idea. So... done with brainstorming. Off to boat and swim, and struggle back up into our cutty via the too-short ladder.

MyMother's Word Substitutions

My mother would hardly ever get my name on the first call. She'd call me by my brother's name, my sister's name, our cat's name, and then finally -- BINGO! -- my own name. She did this with other words as well.

When our grad school son got his first car, my mother asked him if he was a member of AARP. This threw everyone into a fit of laughter, not knowing where it came from. I, of course, mystery lover of words, figured out that she meant AAA.

When I was in high school, she never liked me going to the public swimming pool because I might get syphilis. Of course, she meant athlete's foot, but it still brings a smile to my face whenever I go near public swimming pools.

How Much Zucchini is Too Much?

My husband would say one.

Our first year married, I wanted to go all domestic, so thought I'd plant a garden. My grandfather had a garden. We grandkids were never allowed in it. But it was huge -- house-sized huge. So guess how big I wanted my first garden? Yup. Just like my Granddaddy's. But, what to plant? I wasn't really into vegetables, except eating corn, carrots and peas.

I asked farming neighbors in our new community, and was told zucchini was easy to grow. I'm not sure I ever even tasted zucchini before that. I read the instructions on the package, and then proceeded to plant three seeds to every hill until all the seeds were gone. Zucchini grows like magic. No matter how many you pick, the next day all you have to do is lift a leaf to find another.

Not wanting to waste food, I experimented with the stuff. Today, when I even mention the word "zucchini," my husband turns green.

A few years after that first garden, I actually self-published a cookbook called "The Zucchini Cookbook -- 101 recipes, including a 5-course meal with zucchini in each meal; games included." Stupid title, but descriptive. I printed it on green paper, which was rather pukey, looking back on it. I discovered some favorite recipes, but someday will figure out how to cut them back to one-person-sized.

How much zucchini is too much? Maybe, if I ever plant it again, I'll only sow one hill with two seeds.

Fast Moving Building

Yesterday, while driving down a back country Michigan road, half of a house starts coming in the opposite direction right towards us, followed by it's better half. My own better half turned to me and declared, "That sure is a fast moving building."

Someday, a Dog

I've never had one, but there are times when I think I'd like to own a dog. I am an outdoors person, and would take many more hikes were there someone with me to defend against potententially dangerous 4- and 2-legged creatures. My husband has had many negative experiences with dogs, both wild and domestic. Because of that, he told me I could have a dog when he died. His exact words: "Over my dead body!"

What's Under There? (Under where?)

I sing in the church choir. It doesn't meet during the summer months. Still, in our non-airconditioned building, there are many a Sunday morning when I wish to shed the long, heavy, HOT robe. On those mornings, what I leave on under the robe can get rather skimpy.

So it was no surprise when I read about a choir where three women decided to do the same. Beneath their robes they just wore their underwear. Half-way through the service, their pastor, shedding his own robe, declared that since it was such a hot day, he invited the choir members to do the same. Obviously, there were three women who politely refused.

Dueling Cacti

During a trip to Arizona last spring, while hiking about in the dry ole desert, we happened across a couple of dueling cacti. I imagined that once they were "caught" by humans, they froze, in order to not to give themselves away. So, what do you suppose they do once humans proceed along the trail and backs are turned to them?

Rules of Etiquette When You're Choking

I like to embellish my cereal with fruits, nuts, and/or flax seed. Last week, a mouthful of cereal headed down my throat with a not-very-finely-chewed almond slice. This dainty bit of nut landed length-wise across my throat, refusing to move up or down. Knowing that eating bread helps to push stuck food downward, I dove for our freezer. (With only two of us living here, bread tends to dry out quickly unless frozen.) I ripped open the bag, grabbed two pieces, and started cramming them into my mouth, crumbs and ice crystals spraying out about me as I attempted to thaw and chew and swallow the bread at the same time. It worked.

I looked up at the stunned look on my husband's face. He rolled his lips inwards as he turned away to keep from laughing, finally saying, "I didn't know what to do. We had hot dog buns in the refrigerator. Plus, I didn't think it was proper to laugh when my wife was choking to death." He pointed to the circle of bread crumbs surrounding me.

Tent on Trampoline

A new family moved into the neighborhood with three kids. They set up a trampoline in their sideyard. This week, returning home after an early morning meeting, I noticed a tent pitched on top of the tramp. 3-4 pairs of shoes were scattered on the ground around it, and 1 HUGE bulge showing beneath the tent. It looked like a spaceship. I imagine the kids had rolled into one blob of torsos and appendages in the night.

First Humor Blog

There is humor all around us, for those willing to look. Children laugh on an average of 400 times a day, while adults average a mere 5 times (so I've read). So what is it that children see and know which we grown-up kids have forgotten?

I shall attempt to see (and post) the humor in my everyday ears and observations -- even when my grown-up eyes don't want to see anything to laugh at.

There.