While not exactly skipping around singing "It's Beginning to Look Like Christmas", I am listening to a lot of good music for Christ and Christmas right now.
Part of the reason I'm not skipping is because it makes my knees hurt and I'm not singing because my voice, already low by female standards, has dropped about an octave and I sound very much like a frog or a toad.
Are frogs and toads considered 'holiday' animals, er, uh, amphibians? And is it tacky to decorate with them or to decorate them directly? Do they like wearing festive holiday antlers or does it just annoy them? Just wondering.
Having a cold makes it hard to breathe much less to sing, so I listened intently to my choir music hoping against hope that I could mentally rehearse the songs and hymns we are to present the weekend of the 10th, 11th and 12th of December.
I'm quite certain that the invitation to participate in the Christmas choir anticipated that I would do so without sounding like the croakings of doom from the back row of risers. Frankly, I've never heard a choir comprised of frogs or toads and wonder just what kind of selections they would choose to highlight their abilities. Do they actually have singers who carry a tune or do they simply make pitched noise?
Do frogs and toads even know music? And if they know music, are they able to work to whip a choir into shape for 8 shows over the course of one weekend? Are their homes bedecked with garland and tinsel or do they prefer pond slime and lily pads? Do they like gingerbread cookies?
Sorry, I digress...
Sadly, since my voice is currently stuck in their range, I had to ask because inquiring and drug-induced minds want to know. Perhaps when I am more lucid after a night's rest, these concerns will probably not plague me. I hope...I'm sure YOU hope that, too.
Should it happen to not be the case and it is discovered that I am gleefully decorating my tree with plastic frogs, please just close the door, ignore my croaking attempt at singing "I Saw Three Ships" and just slip away as if you had never seen anything at all. It would be the kindest thing to do.
December 1, 2010
November 30, 2010
Many Brave Hearts Are Asleep in the Deep
Never get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
I’m just trying to save your life.
Prior to the remodeling of the center bathroom in our house, going to the potty at dark-thirty was a risky proposition at best. Somnambulating through the house in virtual sleep while trying to answer the call of Mother Nature is never easy.
Objects that are navigated around easily during the daytime or when the lights are on become mine fields of danger and horror in the dark. Thanks to the remodeling, we now have motion sensing lights along the floor of the bathroom that provide a gentle ray of light to guide you safely to your destination without harm. With the illumination bathing the target in a warm glow, the trip is accomplished generally without tears.
Not every home is so blessed to have these amenities. Which brings me to the ever-present danger of the blue stuff in the toilet.
Most of us want to hope our bathroom facilities are clean and would pass inspection so we employ various cleaning products and tank treatments that allege to insure sanitized and safe use of the porcelain throne. Heaven forbid that our toilet smell like... well... a toilet.
The ubiquitous image of the advertising showing Tidy Bowl man happily afloat in his tiny boat in the deep and beautiful blue waters of “lake John” reminds me of both a clean toilet and, sadly, of a nightmare that I once had as a kid.
That little perky sailor of the bilge water smartly jabbed me with a jib as I sat on the throne one night to take care of business. He informed me that he was almighty tired of being peed on. I woke up from that dream scared and with a perpetual fear of colored water in the toilet that lasted for years.
But sometimes, nightmares notwithstanding, the bladder prods ever harder for relief until you are compelled to rise from your horizontal slumber and drag your snoozing carcass vertically into the bathroom. This is the time at which your conscious mind should be completely awake! Unfortunately, this is often the very time in which it deserts you entirely. It’s kind of a cruel practical joke when you are least able to defend yourself. Will you make it in time? Will you become disoriented and pee in the piano bench?
There are some horrors that never leave us. Have you ever sat down into a cold, wet toilet? Some early arriving male interloper answers ‘the call’ then, inexplicably leaves the seat in the “up” position and you creep into the bathroom sound asleep in your footy pajamas totally unaware of the danger that lies damply ahead only to find your previously warm buttocks plunged into the startling cool pool of the toilet thus rendering you unable to pee for hours? Plus your nether region is now a lovely shade of aquamarine?
Then, there is the awful specter of possibly slipping on the bathroom tile while seat is in said “up” position and alighting face first into the Tidy Bowl dyed water. How can you explain to ANYONE why you have a blue face? Or worse yet… imagine the headline if you drowned in that position?
"The victim was found facedown in the blue-hued water of the home’s main bathroom. Rescue personnel were unable to remove the body for approximately 30-minutes, during which time they had to forcibly stop looking at each other in order to stifle their laughter.”
"The family has requested that there be no viewing of the dearly departed since the funeral home indicated that the grieving family would not be able to tolerate the snickers from the mourners who filed past the casket making inappropriate jokes about Smurfs, Violet Beauregard and The Tidy Bowl Man.”
“Friends of the family are invited to send a charitable donation to the plumbing company of their choice.”
I’m thinking that just might be a headline article that our local paper could cover with great panache. They could include coupons for cents off toilet cleaning products underneath.
I’m just trying to save your life.
Prior to the remodeling of the center bathroom in our house, going to the potty at dark-thirty was a risky proposition at best. Somnambulating through the house in virtual sleep while trying to answer the call of Mother Nature is never easy.
Objects that are navigated around easily during the daytime or when the lights are on become mine fields of danger and horror in the dark. Thanks to the remodeling, we now have motion sensing lights along the floor of the bathroom that provide a gentle ray of light to guide you safely to your destination without harm. With the illumination bathing the target in a warm glow, the trip is accomplished generally without tears.
Not every home is so blessed to have these amenities. Which brings me to the ever-present danger of the blue stuff in the toilet.
Most of us want to hope our bathroom facilities are clean and would pass inspection so we employ various cleaning products and tank treatments that allege to insure sanitized and safe use of the porcelain throne. Heaven forbid that our toilet smell like... well... a toilet.
The ubiquitous image of the advertising showing Tidy Bowl man happily afloat in his tiny boat in the deep and beautiful blue waters of “lake John” reminds me of both a clean toilet and, sadly, of a nightmare that I once had as a kid.
That little perky sailor of the bilge water smartly jabbed me with a jib as I sat on the throne one night to take care of business. He informed me that he was almighty tired of being peed on. I woke up from that dream scared and with a perpetual fear of colored water in the toilet that lasted for years.
But sometimes, nightmares notwithstanding, the bladder prods ever harder for relief until you are compelled to rise from your horizontal slumber and drag your snoozing carcass vertically into the bathroom. This is the time at which your conscious mind should be completely awake! Unfortunately, this is often the very time in which it deserts you entirely. It’s kind of a cruel practical joke when you are least able to defend yourself. Will you make it in time? Will you become disoriented and pee in the piano bench?
There are some horrors that never leave us. Have you ever sat down into a cold, wet toilet? Some early arriving male interloper answers ‘the call’ then, inexplicably leaves the seat in the “up” position and you creep into the bathroom sound asleep in your footy pajamas totally unaware of the danger that lies damply ahead only to find your previously warm buttocks plunged into the startling cool pool of the toilet thus rendering you unable to pee for hours? Plus your nether region is now a lovely shade of aquamarine?
Then, there is the awful specter of possibly slipping on the bathroom tile while seat is in said “up” position and alighting face first into the Tidy Bowl dyed water. How can you explain to ANYONE why you have a blue face? Or worse yet… imagine the headline if you drowned in that position?
"The victim was found facedown in the blue-hued water of the home’s main bathroom. Rescue personnel were unable to remove the body for approximately 30-minutes, during which time they had to forcibly stop looking at each other in order to stifle their laughter.”
"The family has requested that there be no viewing of the dearly departed since the funeral home indicated that the grieving family would not be able to tolerate the snickers from the mourners who filed past the casket making inappropriate jokes about Smurfs, Violet Beauregard and The Tidy Bowl Man.”
“Friends of the family are invited to send a charitable donation to the plumbing company of their choice.”
I’m thinking that just might be a headline article that our local paper could cover with great panache. They could include coupons for cents off toilet cleaning products underneath.
November 28, 2010
Death by Fragrance
I'll begin by saying I'm not one to bathe in fragrance.
It just seems tacky and, well, wasteful.
Not subscribing to the the theory that if a little bit is good, a lot is better saves me a bundle on cologne, body spray and perfume. Plus, I don't wear it that often anyway.
Sadly, today one little oops with the spray button has plunged me into misery.
A spritz of scent is more than enough for this country gal. I kinda like my hubby to come in close for his whiff of beauty and splendor from the fragrance aisle.
However, I believe the neighbors could smell the beauty and splendor today. GAG!
Fortunately for all concerned, I own washcloths and soap and I'm not afraid to deploy them for emergency use.
Are you aware that a pleasant scent in the over the top measure proves to be an acrid, eye watering, nose clogging experience not meant for the faint of heart?
I have no desire to offend others, but I gotta tell you, offending yourself with your scent, even those aromas and scents meant to be pleasant, isn't pleasant or desirable at all.
Makes me rethink my entire position on the issue of applying cologne at all.
Can we still be friends with the people around us if we choose to be 'cucumber neutral'? Will they still respect me if they discover that I'm using a homemade all natural body bar instead of some over the counter floor washing solution with an added fragrance to seem like it's beautiful?
I'll admit I buy the above named potions from time to time. Sometimes I want to actually 'smell perty' instead of like the winner of the truck stop wrestling match.
But too much of a good thing can kill you.
When you are not able to breathe and you begin sneezing, your eyes are watering violently and you can feel your nasal passages slam shut from the offending olfactory assault, it's time to rethink the concept of 'dressing up'.
No wonder I prefer jeans and a t-shirt with a nice deodorant swiped up under each arm. Most days, it's enough when added to a nice warm bath.
Time to trundle off to church. I hope I don't smother anyone near me because I like to have smothered myself.
I just wonder what they'd put on my tombstone?
"Pertied herself to death."
It is a cautionary tale indeed.
It just seems tacky and, well, wasteful.
Not subscribing to the the theory that if a little bit is good, a lot is better saves me a bundle on cologne, body spray and perfume. Plus, I don't wear it that often anyway.
Sadly, today one little oops with the spray button has plunged me into misery.
A spritz of scent is more than enough for this country gal. I kinda like my hubby to come in close for his whiff of beauty and splendor from the fragrance aisle.
However, I believe the neighbors could smell the beauty and splendor today. GAG!
Fortunately for all concerned, I own washcloths and soap and I'm not afraid to deploy them for emergency use.
Are you aware that a pleasant scent in the over the top measure proves to be an acrid, eye watering, nose clogging experience not meant for the faint of heart?
I have no desire to offend others, but I gotta tell you, offending yourself with your scent, even those aromas and scents meant to be pleasant, isn't pleasant or desirable at all.
Makes me rethink my entire position on the issue of applying cologne at all.
Can we still be friends with the people around us if we choose to be 'cucumber neutral'? Will they still respect me if they discover that I'm using a homemade all natural body bar instead of some over the counter floor washing solution with an added fragrance to seem like it's beautiful?
I'll admit I buy the above named potions from time to time. Sometimes I want to actually 'smell perty' instead of like the winner of the truck stop wrestling match.
But too much of a good thing can kill you.
When you are not able to breathe and you begin sneezing, your eyes are watering violently and you can feel your nasal passages slam shut from the offending olfactory assault, it's time to rethink the concept of 'dressing up'.
No wonder I prefer jeans and a t-shirt with a nice deodorant swiped up under each arm. Most days, it's enough when added to a nice warm bath.
Time to trundle off to church. I hope I don't smother anyone near me because I like to have smothered myself.
I just wonder what they'd put on my tombstone?
"Pertied herself to death."
It is a cautionary tale indeed.
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