Tag: random

It’s Wednesday…

I like a challenge and the chance to use my new camera. If you want one of 14,000 things to be happy about:

please give me a page number from 1 to 612 and another number between 1 and 30. I’ll not only tell you what the book says, I’ll endeavor to include a photograph in comments just for you.

I can’t promise the photo will have anything to do with your answer. Because honestly, what can I do with something like page 487, number 23, “Joe Pepitone, former Chicago Cub baseball player?”

I wanted to take photos of the moon…

…but we are having a VERY active palmetto bug breeding season which, for those who don’t know, means ginormous flying nocturnal roaches.

Dear Snow Haters: Tropical climates have drawbacks.

Where’s Mark G-is-for-Gallant Harris when I need him?

Hopefully I can get something beautiful and palmetto bug-free posted for Earth Day sometime on Tuesday.

For Mark G. Harris

Here’s a story of a host moment gone wrong:

On this date in 1822, Scottish poet and novelist Sir Walter Scott played host to George IV when the king visited Edinburgh. The king gave Scott a glass goblet in honor of the occasion. Scott put it in his pocket and later sat on it and crushed it.

On the plus side, Scott popularized the kilt during that visit, leading to modern-day visions such as this one:

Hubba. Which I think is Scottish for “Damn!”

I’m sure it will come as no surprise that kilts are mentioned in my new novel. Next book, instead of spending hundreds of hours researching and plumbing my imagination for ideas, I’m just putting together stolen quotes from everyone’s LiveJournals. It should save a lot of time.

Where do we go from here?

I know what you’re thinking. It’s time for me to close down this LJ because how can I top a poem written to a vegetable that I don’t even like?

You’re right. I should end it here. Trust me, I’ve been tempted to do just that many times over the past few months.

Instead, I won’t.

When Lynne drove us to New Orleans a few weeks ago, she asked me to get a piece of gum from her purse. I pulled out a pack of Dentyne, and she was all, “Not THAT gum. The other gum.” So I began digging around in her purse again, passing over what looked like a chic pack of condoms. (Well, honestly, everyone should have condoms at all times, even if just to hand them to a friend at a significant moment, and one doesn’t question a woman about what’s in her purse. In fact, one doesn’t even look in another person’s purse, except under orders or in case of an urgent need of insulin, nitroglycerin, or a Kleenex. But if Lynne had ever bossed YOU around, you’d know to damn well do what she says.)

Lynne: It’s a small black square.

Becky: Oh, THIS? I thought this was a pack of condoms.

Lynne: [squelching look]

Becky: Okay, this is about the most sophisticated pack of gum ever. How does it work?

Lynne: [heavy sigh] Turn it over and open it.

So yesterday, while in Office Depot getting paper because I’m printing A COVENTRY WEDDING (no, it’s not finished–Hi, John!–but it’s being edited and getting finished today and tomorrow), I spotted Lynne’s brand of gum at the impulse buy display. I followed my impulse and bought it.

Probably those of you who watch TV instead of working nonstop on your manuscript–Hi, again, John!–except for moments that must be shared with LJ, have seen the commercials for “5,” which Wrigley officially introduced in the U.S. last summer.

I am always months behind. As my editor could tell you.

Edit: Hump Day Happy will return next week. You’re all feeling just a little more secure now, admit it.

speaking of words…

I try really hard not to use the word “hate.” Sometimes it slips in (e.g., “I hate Brussels sprouts”). I never thought I’d have to worry about hurting the feelings of Brussels sprouts because I was pretty sure none read my LJ.

I also rarely use the word “hate” in conversation, though I did hear it leave my mouth a few times about the townhouses on our block.

I say “hate” and write “hate” so infrequently because it’s not a feeling that’s all that familiar to me, much the same way I don’t say “go to hell” because if I believed such a place existed, why would I ever want anyone to go there?

One thing I know. I have NEVER said I hated anyone who reads this LJ or has been friended by me on here. I hope to never hear that word attributed to me again. That’s unacceptable.

Thank you.

Now, just in case there are some literate Brussels sprouts with an Internet connection:

To a Brussels sprout

Oh, cruciferous sprout
How I have maligned thee
I, the ignorant lout
Who valued not your Vitamin C

With legions of beta carotene
And Vitamin K so plucky
Your indoles always on the scene
Making cancer cells unlucky

With your fiber and your folate
And your rich potassium
I say you and I shall make a date
Brussels sprouts–must eat me some!

Photo used without permission from lesliebeck.com, a fine way to treat a site that gave me all that information about Brussels sprouts.

Hump Day Happy

I usually keep the blinds closed on the window that’s directly in front of where I sit at my desk. The window beside me offers plenty of light and a better view, so I don’t think about the other window. However, the painting propped on that window is one Timmy painted and gave me years ago. These days, I like to raise the blinds so I can feel like a TimmyCreature is giving me a stare that means, “Get back to work.”

I know this is late, but if you want one of 14,000 things to be happy about:

please give me a page number from 1 to 612 and another number between 1 and 30, and I’ll tell you what the happy book says.

Hey, Lisa!

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Today I had what Jon Stewart might call my moment of zen. I clicked on your streaming video link of Old Faithful and idly watched another geyser get active then calm down. I figured there was little chance of seeing anything happen at such a random moment, but I kept the site up for a while anyway.

Soon, a buffalo strolled into the picture, grazing on the parts of the grass where the snow had melted. I was so excited that I had to call Tim. (He’s nice to humor me at moments like this.) While we were on the phone, Old Faithful erupted! My first time to see it live (so to speak) and in action. Then a hawk flew by and another buffalo walked into the photo. Poor Tim had to hear my entire Disney narration of events, but I couldn’t help it. It was calming and exciting at the same time.

Plus I didn’t have to endure the cold to enjoy it. Thank you for that, too. =)