Hump Day

Let’s see. This week I’ve managed to vote (oh, the things I could say, and may say, but not today–except to note that the people who work our polls are helpful, upbeat, friendly, and I appreciate them so much) with Tom, Tim, and Debby. Tim was kind enough to take a selfie with my phone.

I’ve composed a two-page letter with 11 attachments to try to resolve a situation that has caused me abundant stress for the last seventeen months. You don’t want to see any photos of that–including how I look when I wake up at 5:00 AM and decide there are a few more things I need to do before that packet can be faxed.

Every day, I take on a small household task in addition to the routine bedmaking, straightening up, meal planning and cooking, and cleaning up after four dogs (who yesterday were stuck inside because it drizzled all day and it takes a village to get them outside in the rain, and I am but one person). Also, my Instagram posts take a little time to set up, shoot, and then put everything away.

Yesterday’s small task was giving the inside of the refrigerator a good cleaning and organizing it better. I’m not sure what today’s task will be–after I have breakfast and then take a nap since I woke up way too early.

I spotted this photo of actor Viola Davis this morning in my Instagram feed of accounts I don’t follow but show up because of other accounts I do follow. I think she’s pretty fabulous.

But what made me pause and screencap was that her fashion reminded me of an outfit I made for my first Runway Monday final collection in October 2008 based on characters in my novel A Coventry Christmas. Here’s Keelie in the same color palette.

Enjoy the middle of the week! Gonna leave you with this old Crowded House song I love.

Hump Day Snack


What are you snacking on today? Apparently, August 3 is National Grab Some Nuts Day. My favorites are cashews and pistachios, but this store-bought blend has only a variety of peanuts and almonds (those’ll do). I threw in sesame sticks with the dried cherries and raisins and the candy.

If the only nuts in your life are your friends, invite them over for a brew tonight. Get a jump on tomorrow, which is India Pale Ale Day.

Always a reason to celebrate.

Playing Nice

Here’s a bonus button that possibly will amuse only Jim C:


What does the fox say?

Since I’m feeling particularly benevolent, I’m going to add this for Marika, who always mourns the end of Hump Day Happy. Marika, give me a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, and you know what will happen. If anyone else remembers what the heck I’m talking about, you can play, too–do not give me your birthday again. The books don’t change.

Hump Day Happy in honor of Marika’s birthday

Possibly the silliest purchase I’ve ever made on eBay arrived today. I blame David Puterbaugh and his rousing endorsement of Toy Story 3. While Jim was here, we watched the first two Toy Story movies on DVD, then Jim, Tim, Tom, and I saw the new one in the theater. And YES, David, I DID need the Kleenex I took with me at your suggestion, and I wasn’t the only one. One of the themes of the movie is what happens to toys when their children grow up.

For years, I’ve mourned the disappearance of my wooden push puppet lion. He was one of my favorite toys, and if our toys remember us, he knows I didn’t lose him, discard him, or give him away. I’m sure he was stolen, and I know who the probable culprit was. I’ve never been able to find another resembling his craftsmanship and appearance, and I’ll never settle for anything less.

Along with my lion, other toys vanished along the way. I probably don’t remember most of them, but I do remember my Dolls of the World.

Dolls of the World were sold for 99 cents each with the purchase of Arco gasoline. There were twelve in all, and my mother collected six of them for me. They weren’t really to play with; they were for display. Even at that, not a whole lot of skill and craft went into them. They were basic plastic dolls–the kind often used for crafting–with hair too fine to brush, only movable at the arms and neck, and their clothes were cheaply made and not removable. Still, I liked the six I had. I learned about the countries they were from and took good care of them. Once they even helped me when I started in a new school. I took them for show and tell, and they were such a hit that my teacher took me to all the other classes in my grade so I could share them, a bizarre experience for a shy girl who normally did everything she could to avoid attention.

I know the dolls were on my bookshelves when I went away to college, but I suppose at some point, I was persuaded to let them go. After seeing Toy Story, I dreamed about them, which caused me to look them up online and on eBay. Not all of the dolls I found look like the ones I had, so maybe there were different versions for different years or regions. But I found England’s and Spain’s dolls that were identical to mine, and they were practically free, so I bought them.

In honor of Marika’s birthday, and the child who remains within us no matter how many birthdays we have, I decided to resurrect Hump Day Happy for this week. (Marika is the only one who ever expressed regret that it vanished as surely as my push puppet lion.) Anyone who wants to give me a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, can get an item from the happiness book to celebrate Marika’s special day with her. (I don’t advise picking 8/11, because I think Marika’s chosen it a couple of times, and it never changes.) Meanwhile, Marika, let’s pretend that whatever number you pick, it includes dancing naked men.

Hump Day Happy

I’ve misplaced something that I desperately want to find. I suspect I put it somewhere logical in late 2007 when we were remodeling, but since I was operating with stress and physical pain turned up to eleven during that time, “logic” then and logic now bear no relationship to each other.

In looking for this misplaced item, I’ve found all kinds of other goofy stuff, including some of Tom’s cereal box prizes. They made me smile.

While I continue my search, I’ll be glad to take the occasional break to give you something from this book to be happy about. Just comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25.

Hump Day Happy

How do you talk to a giraffe with one ear?


You’re talking to a toy? That’s just crazy.

Two hundred-plus dolls in the attic agree with me.

However, to humor you, if you give me a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, we’ll pretend it’s the giraffe looking up something in this book to make you happy. Because as Emily Dickinson wrote, The Possible’s slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.

Hump Day Happy


Moo Cards make me happy. These small-sized business cards reproduce fragments of my paintings on one side and contact/web site information on the other side. Moo did such a good job that I plan on another order featuring my novels. Check out their web site linked above. (No, I’m not getting anything for this endorsement.)

Meanwhile, if you give me a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, I’ll be glad to find something in this book for you that’s almost as good as Moo Cards.

Oh, wait. Did somebody say “Moo?” Hi, Rhonda!

Hump Day Happy


Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you! As you can see, my brand new bit o BuNnYz BuNnY MoNsTeR from StarMonkey’s Etsy Shop is making his debut on my LJ with a shamrock lei. His name is John Riley, and if you give him a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, he’ll be glad to find something for you to be happy about from one of these books.

Hope no one pinches you today–unless you like that sort of thing. 😉

Hump Day Happy

Ken is a shoe whore. There are more, but they’re on dolls. Apparently, shoes make him happy. If you’d like something to be happy about, please comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, and I’ll find something in the happiness book for you. It’s not quite the same thrill as a new pair of shoes, but it could be just what you need to prompt a happy memory, give you an idea for a story, poem, or blog entry, or just make you scratch your head in wonder at the foolishness of it all. I say we can never have too much happiness and foolishness.