Thursday, September 30, 2010
Every family has their own sense of humor. In my original family, it was all about bathroom humor, or putting-others-down humor. Since getting married, I have moved on to a different style of humor. Naturally, our children have picked up this unique family humor as well. When we get together, quick wit and spontaneous humor flies about us. Conversation from a time when our two adult sons were home: Older Son: So... What are we going to do today? Father: That depends on the outcome of two phone calls at noon. (To determine opening times) Younger Son: If the first call is successful, you will live. Older Son: Define success. (I love our family.)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I saw this on a card last week. I'm guessing it tickled my funny bone mostly because I lived in Western South Dakota for nearly a decade, and often saw large herds of bison (some incorrectly call the animal a buffalo).
There was a drawing of a bison standing on its hind legs, talking into a cell phone. The message read: "I love the convenience, but the roaming charges are killing me."
Oh, give me a home... (la-la-la-la-la-la!)
Monday, September 20, 2010
I saw a small baggie laying on our front wall and wondered what it was. My view was partially covered by a large pot.
"Looks like gorp," my husband said.
*Light bulbs go off!*
Sure. I remember sitting in the Michigan sunshine two days before, and eating from the bag ... Wait! Two days? In an oak-neighborhood filled with birds, squirrels and raccoons? I checked the bag. Not even a nibble-hole in it. I opened the bag and ate a handful. Yep, I may not have remembered leaving the gorp bag there, but I did remember how stale the nuts were. I nibbled on a few more, along with the raisins and M&Ms and thought how picky our neighborhood wildlife was.
It reminded me of one of our honeymoon experiences where our backpacking meal tasted so bad, we couldn't eat it. Thinking to not waste the food, but let the raccoons whom we knew abounded there have a treat in the night, we left it on the picnic table, and crawled happily into our tent. In the morning we found raccoon prints on the picnic table, but the awful-tasting meal was left untouched by the gourmet critters.
One positive thing I've learned from this experience is: chocolate doesn't get stale! So... off to finish up my M's without the GOR&P.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Arrgh, me hearties! In two hours, it be Talk Like A Pirate Day!!! Be ye ready?
(September 19, 2010)
There be a'too many fav jokes, maties. Still, I be a'listin' three of 'em here for ye:
Q: How much did the pirate pay to get his ears pierced?
A: A buccaneer.
Q: Why does it take pirates so long to learn the alphabet?
A: Because they spend years at C.
Q: What do you get with you cross a pirate with a zucchini?
A: A squashbuckler!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
On my FaceBook page, I'd let my friends know that I'd cleaned two map turtles this week from our oil spill back in July.
One friend commented back, "What in the world is a map turtle?"
Another added, "I'm glad someone else asked that question."
I wrote back (something like, without looking it up):
"A map turtle is a creature which, if you're lost and rub its underbelly, then put it down, you can follow it wherever you want to go."
(Actually, if you just do a search for it, lots of sites pop up about map turtles.)
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Riding with some boy scout leaders this past week, one told me that he used to canoe with his troop to Alaska and back. The other one topped that by saying he took his troop to Hell and back.
Yep. Alaska and Hell are two towns in Michigan along the river.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
While on Mackinac Island, MI, where no motor vehicles are allowed, we rented bikes for a couple hours. I took our younger son on a seat on my back wheel. My husband rode a tandem bike with our six-year-old son behind him. Thing is, on the tandem bike, the adult seat in the front did not have adult pedals or spacing. My husband's legs were moving like he was doing the doggy-paddle the entire time. Also, our six-year-old didn't mind all the hard work. He told his dad that he could relax, because he (our son) had things covered equally. Dad would pedal going up the hills, while he would pedal going down.
Monday, September 6, 2010
While researching snakes for a writing project, the herpetologist at Reptile Gardens in Rapid City, South Dakota, gave me a personal tour our the place during off-season winter. He answered all my questions, and so much more.
At one point, he paused in front of the emerald snakes' glass cage. Pretty animals, I thought. Aggressive animals, he said. I took a step back.
He told me they weren't poisonous, but that during the summer months, he liked to wait until there was a crowd in front of these pretty (and aggressive) animals to feed them or clean their cage. They were very passive, until he reached in, at which time the snakes came alive, striking at him with open mouths, while the visitors screamed and pointed.
He raised his long sleeved shirt and said, "See? They're just like cat scratches, and don't even hurt as much."
HOWEVER, the author of this post does NOT encourage you to stick hand, arm, or any other body part into a snake cage, poisonous or not. Thank you very much.