I had a thriving pink bleeding heart that I tried to transplant. That was not successful. But, this seems to be a good choice.
-
‘Valentine’ -
When I was little, my dad taught himself to play the guitar. When he was actually able to play songs, we would sing along with him. He played for decades and tended to choose old country music, Hank, Patsy, Waylon and Willie.
One of our favorite songs to sing with him was Butter Beans by Little Jimmy Dickens.
In the Episcopal church, the service on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is frequently when babies are christened. The service starts with no lights and no music and as it progresses. Candles are lit and music is added during the collection, which happens around the middle of the service. Eventually, everyone leaves the church to exuberant hymns with candles and lights everywhere, in anticipation of the joy of Easter.
For 3 or 4 years (if I recall correctly, I wasn’t always there) some of the members of my parents’ church were in a jazz band and they offered to do the Easter Saturday music, giving the choir a break from singing before all the action on Easter. The music was always good and the recessional was a kind of Dixieland parade into the parish hall where there was a party for the newly christened, their families and the rest of the congregation.
The year my youngest nephew was christened, they played Just a Closer Walk With Thee. Just the music; no voices. And my younger sister and I got tickled. In the middle of the service. We tried really hard to stifle the giggles. But, we weren’t as subtle as we hoped and our youngest sister, the mother of the candidate, leaned up and asked us what was so funny. And we told her. So, there were all the daughters of the rector snickering in the middle of the christening of his youngest grandchild. We did manage to pull ourselves together by the end of the hymn and finish the service behaving like adults.
Later, in the parish hall, my father sidled up to me and said. “What had you all giggling during the Offertory?”
And I said, “Because, they were playing ‘Butter Beans’ in church.”
The beginning of the service, before we all processed in, silently. Click through and listen. Then, tell me we were wrong.
He couldn’t.
-
I wish restaurants wouldn’t call any random salad they want to fancy up a Caesar salad.
Kale & Radicchio, with creamy sunflower dressing, grilled onion, nori, and whatever “crumble” is, is NOT remotely a Caesar salad.
They aren’t even cousins.
-
My sister had some friends who thought that the mispronunciations of their child were cute and adopted them into the language of their family. The kid had to go to speech therapy for several months to learn to talk once he began school. I have never been inclined to use baby talk anyway. But, that definitely inspired me to talk to my child as I wished them to speak.
That said, sometimes the way my child learned language often amused me.
We used to love to get the large Entenmann’s Danish pastry to keep around for breakfast or snacks. One morning, I asked C what they wanted for breakfast. “Breakfast.” “Well, yeah. But, what? Cheesey eggs? Grits?” “I want Breakfast.” and pointed to the box. Apparently, I had offered for breakfast often enough that C thought that was the word for it. And we did call it that from then on.
I was never sure how the confusion about the difference between cookies and crackers happened. But, I do recall how mad they got when they asked me for a cracker and got exactly that. They wanted a cookie and it took us a minute to work out where the confusion lay. It only took one explanation of “If you want the sweet one say ‘cookie’ and if you want the not-sweet one say ‘cracker’.” for them to always be accurate after that.
When they were learning to read, they came home from school and told me their teacher didn’t know how to spell juice. “She thinks it’s spelled JUICE.” I asked how they thought it was spelled. “DJOOS” I said “Actually, she’s correct. But, I can see why you thought it was the other way. It does have kind of weird spelling.” C said, “Well, dang. I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all along.”
It’s been fun discussing language with this person for 30 years.
-
They’re cute. They’re fluffy. They have those adorable little paws. And they are total assholes. Also, stupid.
When I moved into a duplex in Charleston, SC, there was a tiny piece of yard. I planted 24 crocus bulbs. Squirrels dug up every one, took a single bite, hated it and tried the next one. They never learned that if it looks exactly the same, it is going to be just as nasty.
That was the start of my loathing. And nothing has changed my mind.
When Vash was debating being a yard cat, we left kibble out for him. We spotted cardinals helping themselves when it had snowed and decided that bird feeders were in order.
And the squirrels thought they should help themselves.
IF they didn’t also help themselves to tomatoes, more bulbs and strawberries, I might be inclined to be more kindly. But, they’re just destructive and I refuse to encourage them.
We have 3 Squirrel Buster feeders off the deck and think it’s funny, in a mean way, when new squirrels try to figure out how to get in them. It’s doesn’t work. Those things are effective. And watching squirrels bouncing around on them is vastly entertaining.
One night, something tore up the alternative squirrel-proof feeder my husband put in the front yard. It might have been the bear. It might have been a raccoon or opossum. It wasn’t a squirrel. So, that feeder goes in and out instead of remaining available.
And, since birds are dribblers, the squirrels do have one shot at getting snacks from us.
I don’t mind them cleaning up the wasted millet. They are clearly not starving.
I am the Audience 